The great tapestry of Türkiye
I am 30 meters underground in a cave carved out of a volcanic tuff standing in what was once an altar. A mixed-race couple kiss with honeymoon bliss behind their tour guide while I pass a social media star documenting her OOTD to enter a narrow tunnel that requires my 5’3” self to bend in half as I descend.
We are only at the surface of the Kaymakli Underground City, the stronghold of the early Christian faith during 2 A.D., which served as the refuge of over 3,000 faithful. With its own mill, ventilation system and trap doors, they would hide for months at a time, waiting for a messenger pigeon to come flying in through discreet ducts to signal that the Roman troops or Arabic invaders had cleared. Then they could finally come out and practice their faith above the ground.
The diversity of Kaymakli’s visitors today show that their heroic efforts have paid off. Equal to the majesty of nature like the fairy chimneys of Ilhara Valley are these monuments to the resilience of humanity in the heartland of Türkiye. One doesn’t have to be a person of faith to ask: had they not persisted through months of darkness, would the Christian faithful from around the world still be able to know the light of Jesus? And as religions made contributions throughout history, without structures like these, would civilization have been able to advance as we know it today?
This sense of community and ingenuity lives on in today’s Cappadocians. The region welcomed a record 4.8 million tourists from all over the world in 2023. As locals move to modern and more spacious homes, caves carved from hills and valleys have since been repurposed into restaurants and hotels of every category, allowing tourists to enjoy its natural coolness in summer and cocooning warmth during the winter with Turkish handmade furniture and hospitality.
Tourism has allowed more locals to stay in Cappadocia with restaurants and museums championing local produce and craftsmanship. With the coming of the prestigious Michelin Guide to Istanbul in 2022, the country is coming together to elevate the local gastronomy.
While 99 percent of the population practices Islam and drinking alcohol is considered haram (forbidden) according to the Quran, for tourists and members of other faiths, modern winery Gulor is a favorite, producing 200,000 bottles a year for restaurants in Turkey and in Europe as well as onboard local airlines. A signature offering is The Bridge, a blend of the native bullseye grape Öküzgözü from Eastern Turkey and Malbec from the country’s Western, European side, making for a distinctly bold profile that pairs well with Turkish cuisine’s rich, savory flavors.
Up in a hot air balloon with 100 others, I join the world to witness the sunrise over the valleys and fairy chimneys of Göreme. Five hundred meters below are wild horses running across the plains. The snow-capped Mt. Kayseri stands on one side, overlooking abundant produce, while the Red River flows through well-preserved ancient towns on another. You can enjoy this view from the top of a cave hotel or on a pink retro convertible with the top down or on horseback or from over the hills, warmed by your first chai for the day. But getting in a basket is one for the bucket list that I can now tick. I share one basket with other tourists, not one of us speaking the same language, but we all have the same word for the Göreme vantage: Wow!
Back in Istanbul, man-made genius thrives. Architectural wonders like the Basilica Cistern, the largest of several hundred ancient cisterns that lie beneath the city house both historical sculpture and contemporary jazz festivals; the structure unsurprisingly provides fantastic acoustics. The newly-opened Galata Port welcomes both cruise ships and provides comfortable access to those crossing to either the “Asian side” or “European side” by ferry.
On any given day, visitors and locals alike gather in the shade of Sultanahmet Park, overlooked by the grand Topkapi Palace, Hagia Sophia Mosque, Blue Mosque, and Hippodrome. From my view, I spot an Orthodox family laughing at a Dondurma ice cream vendor’s tricks. Two hijabis wear their silk scarves a little loose to feel the Bosphorus Strait breeze in their hair. More couples exchange passionate kisses, just because. A group of Turkish senior citizens do a star formation for the camera, a trend loved by their Gen Z counterparts.
From the Grand Bazaar, I make my way to Taksim Square, stopping to marvel at the historic Galatasaray tram running through its length, before lighting a candle at the Church of Saint Anthony de Padua, the patron saint of lost things. Outside, photographers who identify as atheists sing praises of its neo-gothic architecture.
And at night, across the square at Galata Tower, young men and women from all around the world make the pilgrimage to pray for eternal love and later have a slice of the TikTok-famous San Sebastian cheesecake. That this diversity of people can come and feel free to be themselves is Turkey’s biggest success.
