The Story of Mutlu, our Turkish guide

We are not alone.

Cappadokya cave hotel and the evangelical tour group from Alabama. Where? Alabama yall and just look at that full moon.

It was a long day for me, the photo assistant. A race of kilometers versus sunset to get to the top of a natural stone outcropping subsequently carved into a castle sometime in the dark ages. We made it to the castle, after speeding some 150 kilometers. With no moments to spare for idle nut and fruit buying el foto loco threw down the Turkish lire and got us all tickets to the top. Very quickly, I felt like I was in that race where you RUN up the stairs of the Empire State building, except that I was carrying some 40 pounds of camera gear (ok fine, the bag of snickers and one of the cameras is mine) and the stairs were carved out of volcanic rock and sometimes missing. We summitted with maybe 2 minutes to spare. Foto loco got off his shots and we packed up and set out towards to our cave hotel.

We made it to our enchanting cave hotel carved into the side of a mountain, after many tight turns that our VIP SUV had to circumnavigate. Foto loco was meeting with our guide for the 5 day trip, who was busy describing just exactly why it would benefit us to pay him in cash. Having heard enough I opted for an auditory change of scenery and settled down in front of the fire in the main “cave”.

I was just getting settled and drawn back into Pamuk’s novel “Snow” when a loud group of, who other than, Americans tumbled in, bringing with them several of the local dogs and cats from the street. Leave it to the good will of this evangelical tour group’s do gooding to warm these flea bitten shivering animals within the confines of our cave hotel. Allah Ackbar!!

In turn, each of these tour groupees came over & wished me a warm welcome, in Turkish no less! They also made sure to make eye contact with me and praise me, with the warm light of their gospel. Their astute travel sense, my beard and wild eyed look must have convinced them that I was a local Haji. They did however, completely disregard the English novel I was gripping with dismay, in my non-handshake hand.

I mean really! I am in Turkey and reading Pamuk. Tomorrow I will ride in a hot air balloon and I am staying in a “cave” hotel. I buy back carbons, I am the ultimate tourist.

10.26.2007

-Today was simply a beautiful day. It started at 5 in the morning with a hot air balloon ride over a valley with some of the strangest and most breathtaking landscapes I have ever had the chance to photograph. The day ended, several beers deep, sitting in my cave hotel, listening to a traditional Turkish musician. Oh dear reader, please allow me this one tender and sentimental moment before I return to my usual medio pollo self. Habla con Ella has a scene in it where Caetano Veloso plays for an intimate group of friend at a dinner party. I was quite taken with that scene and had pretty much come to the realization that I would never attain this experience, but simply relive it on video (much like my childhood love affair with Martha Plimpton). Tonight changed that, with the experience of sitting and listening to this gentleman play for friends, it was otherworldy. “While my eyes go looking for flying saucers in the sky. . .”-

After, quite literally, shooting the moon, foto loco and I learned the true story of the “fairy towers” rock formations we had just finished photographing, from Mutla, our guide. This version was definitely NOT in our Rough Guide or Lonely Planet (however, metaphorically speaking, both titles are appropriate). We had first experienced these “fairy towers” from 1000 feet, in our hot air balloon but el loco foto was not satiated and needed a closer look. Later that day, after driving down, through, up and over several windy back gravel roads at dusk, we finally came upon these strange rock outcroppings.

Formed a bazillion years ago by 3 volcanoes that erupted at the same time (kinda like that thing kids say “what is the everyone in the world farted at once”) and poured lava over the land. Fortunately for the Ansel Adams that lays deep and hidden, in all of our hearts, one of these volcanoes was not like the others. It’s lava was less erodible than its counterparts and so, through the ages, most everything has eroded except for parts of the land which consist of special volcano #3. Add to that some rivers, wars and rain, we have left a valley of, what foto loco described as, 100 foot asparagus, or as Mutlu proudly declares“Penis Valley”.

Let the story of Mutlu, our guide, begin:
“So this rock like penis. Very famoz. The womans, they like have secs. Powerful.”
Foto loco interrupts here “Excuse me, women like to come up here and have sex next to the rocks formations at night?”
“Yes – the sex, secs. With some nice friends and ladies. Drink some beers and then smoke hashish. Hashish. Then we eat a little.”
“Eat a little?” interjects FL.
“Yes, the sex” and then in a whisper to the valley, his breath visible and rising in the twilight, Mutlu repeats “seeeeeeeex” and closes his eyes. He then performs a number of hand motions. “Then you climb up to top and have sexs.”
“Up to top?” FL replies.
With my infinite knowledge and understanding of Aphrodite, I add “yeh man, they climb onto the top of the rocks, lay down a carpet and do it!!”
“NO!” replies Mutla, with an unforeseen even greater understanding of Aphrodite. Seeing the stark confusion on our eyes, he then adds, “The car” and he hits the roof with a closed fist.
“Then many girls – have – seeex.” Smiling, he inhales the last of his cigarette and puts the car in drive.
He turns to Foto Loco and says, with a crooked smile of his brown gumless teeth,
“Very Fresh.”

Penis Valley, Turkey 10.26.2007

i call this photo "where the hell is my assistant!"

and i call this one"down here boss!!!"