First night in Cappadocia: arriving in a moonlit landscape
The bus from Istanbul pulled into Göreme just after 8pm. I'd spent most of the journey with my forehead pressed against the window, watching as Turkey's landscape transformed from urban sprawl to increasingly dramatic rock formations. But darkness had fallen before we reached the truly spectacular parts of Cappadocia that I've seen in countless photos.
My cave hotel (yes, an actual cave carved into the rock) sent a shuttle to collect me from the bus station. The driver, Mustafa, pointed out shadowy silhouettes as we drove through town.
"Tomorrow you see properly," he assured me, noticing my squinting attempts to make out the famous fairy chimneys in the darkness. "Very beautiful in morning light."
The hotel itself exceeded my expectations. My room is literally carved into the hillside, with walls of smooth, curved stone that have stood for centuries. There's something profoundly calming about being enclosed in rock that has witnessed thousands of years of human history. The modern amenities - surprisingly fast wifi, effective heating, and a rainfall shower - create an unexpected contrast with the ancient surroundings.
After checking in, I was too curious to stay inside despite the late hour. I set out for a short walk through the quiet streets of Göreme. The temperature had dropped to around 2°C, and I could see my breath forming clouds in the cold night air. Most restaurants were closing or already closed, but I found a small place still serving and enjoyed a simple dinner of lentil soup and fresh bread.
The town feels entirely different from Istanbul - smaller, quieter, more intimate. Walking back to the hotel, I noticed how the moonlight cast eerie shadows across the rock formations surrounding the town. Even in darkness, there's something otherworldly about this landscape.
Back in my room now, I'm setting my alarm for 5:30am. I've booked a hot air balloon ride for tomorrow morning - apparently one of the quintessential Cappadocia experiences. The company confirmed they're still planning to fly despite the forecast showing some clouds. The representative mentioned that February is actually one of the better months for ballooning here, with stable morning conditions and fewer crowds than summer.
I've laid out my warmest clothes for tomorrow's pre-dawn adventure. The thought of floating above this ancient landscape as the sun rises has me feeling like a child on Christmas Eve - too excited to sleep but knowing I should. My balloon is scheduled to launch at 7:00am, which means I need to be ready for pickup at 6:00am. I'll be there at 5:50, naturally.
It's nearly midnight now, and the silence here is profound compared to Istanbul's constant hum. I can hear the wind whistling gently around the rock formations outside my window. There's something about this place that already feels special - like I've arrived somewhere that exists slightly outside of ordinary reality.
Tomorrow: floating above fairy chimneys at sunrise, followed by exploring the Open Air Museum if time permits. But for now, sleep calls.
Day 165 of 500. One-third of my journey complete, and still so much world to discover.