Our meal was delicious and Osman very friendly and attentive, he prefers living in the mountains even though they get heavy snowfalls and are unable to move around other than very locally during the winter months. I hope the hotel plans work out and we left wishing them well to climb the final few steep miles to the visitor centre and ticket office for Nemrut Dagi. There is a 15 day pass valid for most of Turkey's museums that gives a substantial discount but would mean rushing around, something we fortunately do not have to do. It is possible to stay at the VC which has fantastic panoramic views but it is usually very windy. Luckily for us it was a sunny morning with little wind and we were the first up the long flight of steps that splits in to two around the huge conical mound that was built by hand from stone chippings.

We rounded a corner on to the eastern terrace and were both completely overawed by the sight of several huge stone heads lying at the base of the huge torsos on which they had once sat. They included images of Zeus, Heracles and Apollo with lions and eagles either side and date from over 2000 years ago forming part of a huge tomb that lies within the mound of stone which was part of a temple complex commanded by Antiochus who is also represented by a stone head and torso. The east facing Fire Altar has been reinstalled and we sat on its various levels soaking up the amazing views and remarkable statues. A friendly Chilean girl arrived so we left her to also enjoy the setting alone and walked round to the West terrace where the same gods were replicated with again the heads lying on the floor having been toppled by an earthquake.
It was one of the most impressive sights I have seen and we were reluctant to head away but as tour groups were arriving we felt very privileged to have had the place to ourselves and had a good look in the VC at the archive of photos covering the archaeological investigations of the site and surrounding area.Dropping down a beautiful gorge we reached the river at Cendere and decided to park up under the new bridge for shade and walk over to the beautiful old Cendere Roman bridge originally flanked by four columns of which three remain. It was very hot and families were picnicking on the sand and shingle banks with 3 young Turkish women bathing fully clothed in the clear waters. We decided to stay for the rest of the day but moved from under the bridge to a spot alongside a fighter jet shaped shelter which would give us shade.

Later on families came to say hello and one offered us fried sardines with salad in baguettes and tea which despite feeling a bit under the weather I enjoyed. Yet again we were humbled by the generosity of strangers in this remarkable country. Mandy braved a swim before the sun set but just as we were turning in for the night a pick up turned up and the two friendly guys said staying overnight on the banks was not permitted but we could park up on the approaches to the old bridge where a small campsite provided a cafe and places for tents. A couple from the Czech Republic were travelling with an old caravan and were very friendly but said the road down from Malatya was quite challenging. A friendly dog that had been following us around all afternoon rather blotted his copy book by barking most of the night and with the very high temperature (18 +) and me still feeling odd neither of us slept particularly well.
The road to Malatya was indeed a steep and twisty challenge, even without a caravan, but as we dropped down to the town we noticed that extensive work had been done to bank up some of the corners and widen the route in places. Soon after we discovered the reason why as we came across an HGV with an adjustable trailer and rear wheel steering transporting a huge wind turbine blade. He was struggling on a still rather tight hairpin bend and further on we saw the other two blades awaiting their attempt.

Malatya was badly damaged in the Feb 23 earthquake to the extent that razing the centre and starting again was the easier option. Thus along the approach road there were huge mounds of broken concrete sprouting rebar, architrave, sanitary fittings, doors and window frames followed by lines of temporary housing before the skeletal infrastructure of the new city began to appear with roads, trams and civic buildings already in place. Whilst checking out a possible overnight spot we passed crumbled houses whose occupants had set up tented accommodation alongside and continued to farm their land as they waited for rebuilding to commence in their area.
We decided to stop near Gurun at a small hotel/restaurant that offered camping on its shaded terraces and access to a washing machine so pulled up mid afternoon for some RnR. Shortly afterwards a motorbiker pulled in bearing Chilean plates - the young rider was profoundly deaf but with persistence we were able to understand him and were amazed by the trip he was undertaking having travelled through Mongolia and being en route to the Nordkapp.

I had detected a slight misfire on the long hot pull up to Nemrut Dagi the other day so decided to change the fuel filter which was, according to my records, due in a few thousand miles anyway. It's a simple enough job but requires the filter to be prefilled with diesel so I tipped the contents of the old in to the new and installed it. Then despite turning over happily the engine refused to start so I removed the new filter and managed to siphon out some diesel from the tank to add more. I gave the petrol from my fuel can (usually used in the genny) to the biker but after reinstalling the now full filter the engine still wouldn't start. As it was now getting dark I decided to leave it all overnight but plugged the van in to a socket in the loo block so I could connect my battery charger to reinvigorate the starter battery. The following morning things were no better so in need of fuel as more siphoning wasn't possible I set off on the 2km walk to the nearest garage. This was shut for refurbishment and the nearest alternative was 10km in the other direction back past the campsite so I figured using the bike would be the best option.
As I walked back I stuck my fuel can out and before long a guy stopped and gave me a lift in to Gurun. He had a few errands to run but said he would then drop me back so before long we had got my fuel and a small funnel which he insisted on buying and I was back at the van. I removed the new filter, made sure it was absolutely full of fuel, reinstalled it and again no joy. Finally I removed it once more, filled the old one up, replaced it and bingo first click. Clearly the new MAN filter had a fault so there is a lesson to learn there... carry a spare spare!
We said goodbye to the Chilean guy and settled up with the owner who spoke good French as he had worked in North and West Africa and drove on the hundred and fifty or so miles to Cappadocia with no issues.
We decided to stay at the Kaya Campsite as we wanted to explore the area on foot so felt the van would be more secure and were squeezed on to the terrace between a Turkish couple sleeping in their Berlingo van and a German couple in a 4WD T5 with a pop top. It turned out that they were part of an organised group crossing the Stans and on in to Mongolia and China and would be away until October. The mostly Swiss and German couples had all made their way here for the trip proper to start: a quick look at the organising company's website indicated that they were paying over £20k each which would presumably exclude food, fuel and accommodation! Later a large group of Italian vans arrived on another organised but less ambitious trip and a few Turkish families also arrived, mostly with tents. We walked out across the flat terrain in front of the site and looked down in to Goreme with its dozens of remarkable rock towers formed of tuff, most topped with a block of basalt and many forming part of cave hotels and houses. Back at the site we made good use of the excellent showers, chatted to neighbours of varying nationalities and then after a good sunset retired to bed.

Along with most other guests we were up at 5am to witness the remarkable spectacle of around 200 hot air balloons lifting off as the sun rose under a clear blue sky. It was a superb show with the gas burners roaring and the baskets containing up to 28 people dwarfed by the colourful fabrics of the balloons. Some rose high whilst others aimed to hover over and around some of the towers and rock formations. Most flights ended after an hour with graceful descents on to the flat land with ground crew arriving in 4x4s with trailers and minibuses to ferry the guests back to base. At around £250 per person it is not a cheap experience and having checked a couple of websites it looked like most opportunities were booked well in advance so this is another activity to add to my next time list.

We went back to bed for an hour and then after breakfast walked out and across towards Goreme, partly to check out the wild camping options to actually be beneath the balloons. We dropped down to walk amongst a number of the amazing houses and churches carved out of the numerous rock pillars and enjoyed a welcome but overpriced fresh orange juice in a small cafe. As seems to be increasingly the case quad bike and 4x4 tours seem vital to many of the modern and generally younger tourists so their noise and dust was an unwelcome intrusion. As their leaders want to get back ASAP to get the next group out they didn't even have time to fully explore and appreciate the remarkable structures we were able to enter. A walk back through the Red Valley was in welcome shade and passed many more cave houses where a distinctive feature were the many carved ledges that had encouraged pigeons to nest so that manure and eggs could be harvested. 
After a few tunnels we reached the beautiful Valley Cafe, a simple rustic affair offering fresh orange at a reasonable price and a shaded area to sit. Embarrassingly after he had produced the drinks I realised I didn't have enough cash left and down in the valley he had no connection for a card reader. As is the way he was fine about this and just took what I had with me promising to return the following day. A final walk round to the site finished off a rewarding day and we made full use of the 5 star washing facilities.
After another dawn viewing of the balloons we walked out of the site to nearby rocks to be above some of the craft and then out on to the plain where we were amazed to see that the balloons try and land directly on the trailer and are then driven along the tracks to an area large enough for the canopy to be deflated and folded away by the ground team as the customers get a glass of champagne.
We then walked down another valley to reach the entrance to the Goreme Open Air Museum which is a collection of numerous churches cut in to the rock faces, many still retaining ancient frescoes. However it is a major stop on the tourist circuit and we joined the hundreds of people milling around, most of whom seemed more keen on the ubiquitous selfie than actually looking in detail at the history before them. The way people buzzed in and out of the various rooms giving them barely a glance reminded me of the streams of ants we had been watching previously.
We returned to the van and settled up before driving over to the large town of Nevsehir as I wanted to arrange for an oil and filter change some time soon. In a busy area of the town dedicated to all things automotive with endless garages and workshops we found the independent VW outfit that I had found online. They had clearly cut and pasted images of a surgically clean VW main dealer workshop in to their Google listing as theirs was as chaotic and workaday as you could imagine. However they said if we waited for another car to be finished they could do the job there and then and before long the owner was driving us around the side of the main building to their inspection pit.

They were happy to use my oil and filter and two young lads set to, both fascinated by RHD and the camper set up. Before long the job was done for £20 and we were back above Goreme having also stopped to get a spare fuel filter and parked up above the town, arriving in a heavy downpour as a thunderstorm moved away. We walked back to the Valley cafe for more juice and settled our debts much, I think, to the guy's surprise and he was proud to show us his other seating areas and vegetable garden hidden away out the back. We spoke to a young couple heading they hoped through the Stans and on to Pakistan and India and talked with the owner's friend about the areas of Turkey we had enjoyed.
Back at the van a young couple had turned up and set up a trellis arch, a table and two chairs, pots, flowers and some signs as if for a photo shoot but later a young couple turned up for what had obviously been planned as a sunset meal and marriage proposal but unfortunately the skies were cloudy from the storm and the air had turned chilly. The couple organising things had come over with home made pizzas and were enthusiastic about their business proposition but from what we could see margins would be tight. Also to our surprise a motorbike rolled up and it was the Chilean guy with a pillion passenger who turned out to be a young Russian/Ukrainian woman he had met in St Petersburg a few years previously and by chance saw again in Goreme. He was glad to see we had resolved the filter issue and I wouldn't be surprised to see him again some time.
The weather conditions put paid to balloon flights the following morning so we decided to explore another of the valleys starting down at Goreme. There would have been a few thousand disappointed customers to refund as most would be unable to defer their booking as their tours run to a tight schedule.
Love Valley was another collection of huge rock towers that loomed over us and made for a fascinating couple of hours exploration before we climbed out over the ridge for a Turkish breakfast in Goreme itself. The town has dozens of cave houses and hotels and in recent years a project has been underway to remove unsightly additions and ensure that future extensions are in keeping with traditional styles and use materials that blend in. Where this has happened the result is far more acceptable.
We drove the few miles to explore the old cave village of Cavusin which is above the existing village and has churches and houses carved in to the rock faces. As there had been collapses the old village was abandoned in 1982 but it made for a good climb up to the top plateau followed by a walk down past more 'fairy chimneys'. Back in the village we had a look inside one of the remaining houses that had a display of the locally made ceramics.
Pasabag was another collection of towers popular with the coach trips but as it was late afternoon most had departed so we largely had it to ourselves.
Back on the plateau for the night another group turned up for a photo shoot, this time two young girls in long flowing dresses were being photographed against the setting sun which was again largely absent.
No flights the following morning or for the next few days decided us to move on, stopping initially at Uchisar where we climbed up inside the castle, walked down through the village and then couldn't resist tea on the 2nd floor balcony of a stunning cave house.
The family were moved in to the village when the area was declared a national park and rent their original home back as a cafe and handicrafts stall. The guy's parents had raised him there and many of the rooms reflected how families had lived - it was just the sort of place I could have happily occupied and there was a lovely veg garden hidden away between the various towers.
Derinkuyu has a whole underground town that descends 8 floors down with thousands of rooms linked by tunnels and shafts. People lived almost their whole lives down there with shops, mosques, store rooms, bakeries, animal pens and burial chambers all clearly identifiable. The occupants could seal off or isolate relevant areas or levels by rolling round stones the size of millstones across the tunnels: fascinating.
Heading south we stopped at Guzelyurt to visit Monastery Valley a striking collection of 17 different monasteries and churches carved in to both sides of the beautiful green valley. Near the entrance the first old church was lit with an LED light tape that disappeared in to the ground. I followed it in to a very low tunnel and emerged unexpectedly after a short climb in to another part of the room.
Nearby a former church had been repurposed as a mosque and various texts described the intertwining of the Muslim and Christian faiths, something we had seen at the Mesquite in Cordoba and possibly a sign of hope for a more tolerant interfaith future.
The other churches were quietly remarkable and moving, many containing 1000 year old frescoes.
After a busy day we were glad to pull in behind the large mosque in the small village of Ihlara, where P4N indicated that it was OK to use the large parking area. Later on a woman came round trying to explain something, followed by a guy, we didn't really understand but they seemed friendly enough.
Later when we walked round to the front of the mosque they were sat there beside their own van and had obviously wanted us to join them. We found a pleasant riverside terrace for an evening meal and walked back to the van after sunset as the call to prayer echoed round the village.
Ihlara sits at one end of an eponymous gorge so the following morning we were away early with plenty of water to drop down to the river for a day exploring the many paths and tracks that led to 50 or so carved churches and chapels. It was cool, calm and peaceful and after about 5 miles we reached the half way point at Belisirma for a caff break. Returning along other paths we couldn't resist lunch at a riverside spot where raised shaded decking areas were furnished with comfy cushions above the clear flowing water. A simple lunch of flatbreads filled with cheese and spinach was enough to set us on our way back to the van for another quiet night. At a small cafe in the village a young lad was excited to serve us and his uncle was dressed exquisitely as the maitre de service.


So with our time in Turkey drawing to a close and a fair few miles to go to the Greek border we set off west with a few showery days in the forecast. Cappadocia had been even more beautiful than we had expected and a return visit is something to look forward to....
More pics...