IN THE LIMELIGHT
A MAGICAL LAND How a trip to Turkey, where her late father once lived, led one writer to her geographic soulmate and a life-changing decision. BY OZLEM AYDIN EVANS
A
fter my father passed away, my brother and I decided to take a trip through Turkey, the homeland he’d left in the 1970s. It would be like going back in time as we revisited the places my father had taken us when we were children, including Cappadocia. It felt like it belonged in another world, thanks to its “fairy chimneys” – tall, rugged cone-shaped rock formations that dotted its desert-like landscape. We were supposed to stay there for just one night. We planned to sleep in a cave, watch the famous hot air balloons rise over the horizon in the morning, and then move on. I was anxious to head to the beach in the south of the country, where my father used to take us camping. After driving for hours, up and down the steep hills of the Anatolia region, it was dark by the time we reached Göreme, the heart of Cappadocia. “I think we’re here,” my brother said, as he turned right off a curvy road. The sky was pitch black, but the city lights greeted us like a welcome committee. They illuminated the rock formations at their base, giving them a strange, mysterious look. We could see the tiny windows of the 42
rocky caves. It seemed as though we were entering the Land of the Hobbits. I felt like a child looking outside of the car window, while my brother navigated his way through the narrow brick-lined roads trying to find our hotel. I imagined how my father had driven through these very streets decades ago. It made me feel closer to him. I had hoped that this trip would be comforting for my brother and me, but I had no clue how this trip would impact the trajectory of my life in the near future. I slept in a fairy chimney that night. Like a baby. For the first time in months, I did not wake up once. There is something very eerie, and yet soothing, about sleeping in an actual cave-turned-hotel room. It feels like the walls of volcanic rock wrap around you like a big heavy blanket. The next morning, I woke up to strange noises coming from outside – quick gusts of wind back-to-back, and then silence. As I opened the curtains of the small wooden window of my cave tower, I witnessed the most incredible sight I had ever seen. There were dozens of hot air balloons in the sky – some so close I felt like I could touch their baskets, if I could have fit my arm through the window. The sun was
