Today is Sunday March 1 and I am in Ibrahimpasa, a very small village in Cappadocia about 15 km from Nevsehir, the larger village in which the airport’s located. I was up this morning at 5 with the call to prayer from the Sultanahmet mosque, finished packing my bags, dragged them down the narrow staircase of the Ocean’s 7 Hotel and into a cab, and was off to the airport. I had no problems checking in amidst the village people clustered in large, black-clad groups and milling around the terminal, expect that, of course, my bags were overweight and I had to wait in a lineup to pay for the extra. After two security checks, an expensive nescafe cappuccino (not a good taste), a borek (sausage roll), and a wait of about 2 hours, I was on the plane and off again in Nevsehir in an hour. A shuttle bus was at the gate to greet me and whisked me off into the surreal desert landscape of Cappadocia.
Upon arrival in the village square, my bags and I were handed over to three young Turkish urchins who dragged my luggage through the very narrow streets to the door of the Babayan Culture House, my cave home away from home. My room is great; it is nicely decorated with Turkish carpets and vases, has a double bed, a kitchenette, and a small bathroom with shower. Outside I have my own working space and also access to all the facilities of the place, including a lounge and a lovely longhaired black cat. Right at the moment it is snowing gently while the sun is also shining. On that note, this morning when I left Istanbul it was blue skies and sunny – it figures that the sun would come out as I left the city!