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Merhaba, from Cappadocia, Turkey!
Welcome to the Grand Canyon on acid. This strange valley of bizarre-shaped rock dwellings is truly one of the strangest and most delightful places on Earth. In Cappadocia, we slept in a cave, harvested grapes with a local family, flew in a hot air balloon over giant canyons of distorted rock structures and visited underground cities where Hittites and early Christians hid for months at a time. We also made friends for life with some wonderful fellow travelers.

JENNI: Cappadocia (pronounced cap-a-DOH-key-ah) is another unplanned stop on our itinerary, and like all our other unplanned stops, I am so glad we came here! It is truly otherworldly, and ranks right up there with the best of the "holy cow" experiences. It's good that we chose to come here after Adana. This place was slow, relaxed, far removed from what could be described as the real world…in a word, perfect.

JOE: During the 5-hour bus ride from Adana to Cappadocia we traveled from flat plains to the central mountainous region, crowned by Cappadocia. Even the names of the towns are as strange as the moonscape. Ergup, Goreme, Uchisar, and Neveshir are all marked by bizarre conical rocks that intermingle with the town's houses, as they have been used for thousands of years as dwellings. The stone teepees are made of "tufa," which is volcanic rock. A volcano that erupted thousands of years ago left these huge piles of tufa and the locals decided to live inside them instead of cleaning up the volcano poop. Apparently, the tufa is just perfect material for making into a house, because it keeps it warm in the winter and cool in the summer.

As soon as we arrived in tiny Goreme (pronounced "GHER-eh-may") we went shopping for the best tufa hostel we could find. After several tries, we found the Anatolya Pension to be quite suitable, offering a 2-room cave and shared bath outside. And the price was right: 14 Turkish lira per night (about $9 U.S.)! The "holy cow" factor was very high here. My continual reaction to seeing the stone teepees was a mixture of wonder, curiosity, and disbelief. It's hard to believe that people still live in these things. There was also a creepy quality to the structures as they look like giant skulls if you stare at them long enough. The most unusual, I think, are the ones called "fairy chimneys." They are the rocks that have giant conical caps carefully balanced on top. I still don't understand how this is geologically possible, but, so far, these massive houses of cards have survived years of all kinds of bad weather and earthquakes.

One of the biggest rocks is called a "castle" because it presides at the top of the tallest hill in the area. Around the castle, we saw Selcuk (early Turkish) paintings on the rocks that have survived since at least the 11th century and are still just sitting there out on the outer walls of the rocks. Anywhere else, it seems, someone would have made a fortune, carving them out and placing them in museums. But here, they are just out in the open. While visiting the castle, we met a family whose ancestors had lived in the surrounding rocks for at least a thousand years. They've since turned their tufa cave-home into a tea house/hotel/museum, and gave us a nice tour and a free cup of tea.

JENNI: In the eighties, the Turkish government required that the families living in the rock homes find other housing. The rock homes were to be preserved as a national treasure, or something like that, and people whose families had lived there for generations had to move out. But for whatever reason, there are still some people living in them. The tea house we came across was a real business, and the owners told us of having to prove to the government that their desire to return to their former home had merit as a cultural undertaking. It's probably for the best to try and preserve such fascinating structures, but there's something to be said to view them in their natural environment, as homes for people.

JOE: One of our most unusual and fulfilling adventures on our European trip so far began with our serious plan to walk several miles and go sightseeing. In the early morning, we headed up the highway toward a canyon called Love Valley (in the picture on the right). It's also known as Penis Valley thanks to its enormous phallic rock structures. We had walked a good mile, hoping to hitchhike as well, when a small family in a horse cart approached. There was obviously no room in the cart - two women, two small children, and a grandmother, plus a bunch of boxes and buckets. But they pulled up anyway and offered us an opportunity of a lifetime.

JENNI: Not sure that I would have characterized it as an "opportunity of a lifetime" in the beginning. They just asked us in very broken English if we wanted to see their house. Since they obviously were farmers, of peasants, I imagined their home to be authentically Turkish farmer- or peasant-like. Sounded good to me! They beckoned us after them, and we followed dutifully, walking behind the cart. And we walked, and walked, and walked. The path we had turned onto became deep sand, and no one could ride the cart anymore - too tiring for the horse. The kids quickly latched themselves onto us, chattering away in Turkish and wanting our sunglasses, our packs, my hairclip, anything. Joe carried them on his shoulders, "as a good American uncle should do". Cute enough, but I had a feeling we were not going to their home. And we weren't - we were going to their grape patch. I think that's when we realized that our planned day had just become unplanned, and we were suddenly workhorses.

JOE: I thought grapes came from the grocery store! But seriously, I had never even seen grapes growing in nature before, much less, spent hours picking them! But the ladies were not interested in our level of experience. Just our strong backs and willingness for hard work over several dusty acres in the shade of the funky Blair Witch Project lava rock domiciles. And it was definitely hard work! Those ladies didn't waste a moment, starting at dawn and picking until the dusk, using a curved knife to separate the grapes from their little branches. Then they'd pile the bunches into containers.

JENNI: Their containers were two large trash bins along with burlap sacks ripped open at the seams. Also cardboard boxes and wooden crates. They used anything that would hold the bunches of grapes. I'm glad we had our own Swiss army knives with us - they didn't have enough knives to share, and the vines are way too thick to try to break with our hands. So we set to work, slicing and piling, bent over low bushes of grapes. How I wished for a wide skirt to pile the bunches in, like the women were doing. As it was, my all-purpose travel pants served only one purpose in this situation - to protect my knees in the sand. I was, however, grateful for the headscarf they'd tied around my head. It kept the flies away. In the course of picking, we got to know the other women a bit. One of them was my age, 27, and expecting her third child. She was in her third month, with an aching back and she was oh-so-tired. Her sister was 35 and healing from a slit wrist injured when a porcelain pot broke in her hands while washing dishes. The children were cousins, aged six and five, and adorable, even as they got tired of the picking and started squabbling and fighting for their mothers' attention. The grandmother was probably in her late 60's or early 70's, and a loud voice that could rival any high-school cheerleader's.

JOE: After about three hours of picking, it became my job to carry the HEAVY grape containers about 100 yards over to the horse cart. Then, with the help of the grandmother - the strongest little old lady I'd ever met - I loaded the big baskets onto the cart, then Granny and I rode back to town. We left Jenni and the other women behind at the grape field to continue their work on an increasingly hot day. There was very no room for me on the cart, so at first I walked for a couple of miles.

Once on the highway, the horse was ready to trot, so I had to put one foot in a sort of metal stirrup on the back of the cart and grab hold of the ropes she had tied around the grape bunches. I held on for dear life as Grandma shrieked out orders to the horse to go faster. I somehow managed to shoot video without injury. I was however, yelling for my life, as I was sure that I would die. But I think she just thought I was trying to help her move the horse a little faster. Once back at her house, she prepared a meal of cheese, olives, sweet grape syrup, yogurt and bread. Her husband came home and sat with us on the floor and ate with us. Then he barked out an order to his wife and she started to leave the house. I got up to leave with her, but she told me to stay. I asked about Jenni, and she motioned that she was going to get Jenni and bring her back. "Just relax and have some tea with my husband," she seemed to be saying with her body language. Luckily I had my Turkish-English translation book handy because Grandpa and I drank a lot of tea and struggled to converse as we waited for Jenni to come home. He is a 72-year old villager who worked construction and other hard labor all of his life. Now he is retired.

JENNI: It's getting quite hot now, and there's very little breeze anymore. I ran out of bottled water some time ago, and in light of the stomach fussiness Joe and I both had over the last few weeks, I was a bit leery of drinking the muddy water the women had brought along. I ate a lot of grapes, as they were my only source of moisture. So we worked and worked, and I wondered how long it would take for Joe and Grandma to come back. We would occasionally see tourists hiking the path we had intended to take earlier that morning…the ladies would wave and so would I, and I wondered what the tourists thought, looking down into that field. Finally, finally, I heard Grandma yelling what could have been obscenities (but probably not) at the horse and I looked up eager to see Joe's face. But he wasn't there. Was he dragging behind? I pointed to my wedding ring and asked "monsieur?" (the term they were using to address him) and figured out that he was at their home. Oh, I was fuming. I was hot, tired of bending over, bleeding from a small knife cut, and dying of thirst. And we still had hours of work left, and another load of grapes to bring home.

JOE: I swear I thought she was coming right back with Jenni! If I'd thought otherwise, I would have gone back with her. It made me nervous to be separated from Jenni, even though I knew she would be safe. I kept asking the old man, "Madame? Where is my wife?" But he signaled for me to relax and bloat myself on glass after glass after glass of tea. We drank our "cay" in two different cafes that were packed with men playing cards and backgammon. I guess their female loved ones were also out picking grapes! As the sun was beginning to set, the old man took me back to his house and showed me the grapes and other vegetables, fruits and nuts the family was drying and processing on the roof. The grapes they'd pick today and all these other vegetables and fruits would be saved for the winter. Finally, Jenni came home after nine hours of working in the field. Since there wasn't room in the packed horse cart, she and the other ladies had to walk the several miles back. As soon as they arrived home, the ladies unloaded the grapes and then went right to work in the kitchen preparing supper. There wasn't much for Jenni to help with in the kitchen, so she tried to stay in the living room with the man, the little boy and me. But, to my horror, Grandpa shooed Jenni away to the kitchen! I tried to get up and go talk to her, but I was ordered to sit down and watch the boring soccer game. I promise I really did try!

JENNI: I believe Joe, but I had no patience for Grandpa after that. He drinks tea all day while a pregnant woman, an injured woman, and his aging wife pick grapes all day while watching the kids? It's unconscionable to me, and I would not tolerate his interruptions of the women's stories during dinner. I wouldn't acknowledge his interruptions, and asked the ladies to continue. No matter really…it was all in Turkish anyway, but it was the principle of the matter. And the women truly amazed me. We found out that they awaken at dawn to chop firewood, and then head out to the grapefields. And then they cook dinner in a rudimentary kitchen where the counterspace is the floor, and then they clean up. They are "Wonder Women." Anyway, I tried to help with dinner, but it was crowded with three women in a tiny little room and I was not allowed back in the living room. So they were nice enough to let me contribute by cutting the watermelon. We ate dinner sitting on cushions on the living room floor. Their dining table is a round metal disc with a table cloth that everyone uses as their napkin. The traditional dinner they prepared was pasta with yogurt sauce and ground bits of beef. It was simple, yet very delicious and I was impressed that it was enough to feed a big family.

After dinner, the ladies showed off their beaded scarves they make for their own use and also sell to tourists. They usually sell for about 4 million lira each, or about $2.50. I bought four of them for 100 million (about $70 total). Maybe it will help them get the water fixed in the kitchen, or send the kids to school, or whatever they might need it for. At the end of the day, I think Joe and I both realized that we were probably one in a long line of strong-looking tourists targeted by this family every year on their way to the grape patch. It's quite clever of them actually. We know now that we played right into their hands, but how thankful we are that we were in the right place at the right time to be played. This was definitely a most enriching experience, more up-close to real Turkish peasant life than we could ever hope for. I will remember it always.

JOE: One of my favorite things about traveling is meeting other travelers. Our first night in Cappadocia, we met a wonderful Australian woman named Simone who imbibed with us on the night before she was setting off to Iran. Our second day here, we met a remarkable couple who have also quit their jobs to travel - just like we did. Ali (short for Allister) and Bott (short for Louisa) are a doctor and nurse team from Bath (pronounced Baaahth) England. They are driving a Range Rover with a camper across Europe for four months. They had planned to go to India through Pakistan, but now, because of the war on terrorism, they've had to change their plans. They've decided to head back north through Eastern Europe and may even visit some of the areas we've already toured. We hit it off so well with Ali and Bott (pictured on the right) that we spent half of our days in Cappadocia with them over countless meals, sharing travel stories, and examining the differences in our common language. For example, when the British people go to the bathroom, they say they're going to "spend a penny." That refers to the money they used to spend for pay toilets. In fact, they don't even say "bathroom." They say, "loo." If they have to go "big bathroom," they say they're going to "drop the kids off at the pool." We had a lovely time and some priceless conversations with Ali and Bott and hope we get to cross paths with them again.

And remember Mary, our Canadian friend we met in Istanbul? We also hooked up with her in Cappadocia. Seems she met a young Turkish man named Dogan (pronounced Doh-WAHN) and fell in … well, at least lust. Jenni and Mary convinced Dogan to take us to a hammam or Turkish bath in the nearby town of Ergup. As soon as we arrived, we changed out of our civilian clothes and into a thin, dish towel toga, just big enough to cover all the parts. The hammam is basically a public sauna; dark, hot and humid with dripping wet marble floors and columns. We sweated for about an hour while the staff masseuse, an overweight middle-aged man with fierce hands, called us into a private room one by one. First, he massaged us (my "massage" was more like an ass kicking) and then he scrubbed us down with soapy suds. After it was all over, Dogan and I were shocked to learn that Jenni and Mary got COMPLETELY NAKED for their baths! Following tradition, Dogan and I kept our little togas on, but Jenni and Mary were confused, so they asked the masseuse if they should get naked! Of course he's going to say, "yes!" Dogan was so embarrassed because he lives in that town and now he's got to listen to stories about his naked Canadian girlfriend. That masseuse probably still has bragging rights and may even get elected mayor of Ergup, he's so popular now!

JENNI: That's not how it happened at all. Mary and I both knew we were going to have the massage, and who wants a massage with all your clothes on? So we asked Dogan - who is TURKISH, by the way, and should know these things - if we were supposed to wear underwear. He said he wasn't wearing his, so we took our cue. Who knew you were supposed to leave the stupid toga-thing on? When it was my turn for the massage, I took the thing off and asked, "tamam?" which means "okay?" in Turkish, and he said "tamam". If it was wrong or against protocol, he should have said something then. What do I know about the do's and don'ts of hammams? That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, I have to tell about one more thing we did…on the last full day in Cappadocia, we decided to spring for an expensive treat: a hot-air balloon ride over the valleys. They picked us up before sunrise and carted us to a field where they blow up the balloons. We climbed on board and then floated over the valleys of crazy rocks as the sun came up and painted the sky. Afterwards they toasted everyone with some really cheapo champagne and took us back to our cave home. I'd never been in a hot-air balloon before, and I have to say that I don't know how it could get any better. How can you top floating over the most fascinating landscape on earth? It was an expensive treat, but so very worth it.

Tomorrow we leave for another treat - an overnight bus ride to Turkey's West Coast: to the town of Izmir, where we will finally meet some friends that we made a year ago on the Internet!