January 2014 – Page 2 – robinchartier

Frequent Flyer

I haven’t finished writing about our previous trip, but I’m already thinking about my next one. My close friend has had a lifelong dream of visiting Paris. Since she moves back to the US this summer she doesn’t have much time left to grab this opportunity while she’s still on the Paris side of the Atlantic. She proposed to a group of us that we take a long weekend and go together, without any husbands or kids. (Funny side note: between the 5 of us we have 21 kids . . . a case of crazy attracts crazy?)

Of course my immediate automatic internal reaction is to say, “No thanks.” And then spend the next few days coming up with reasons to reinforce why opting out is perfectly natural, reasonable and sane. But this time when my brain said, “No,” I tried to think of all the reasons why I should go, or might want to go. I’ve never had a desire to see Paris — I picture snooty people with great coffee, so that’s one out of 2 things in their favor. I could go for the great artwork and amazing architecture, but I’m more of a words person than one who falls in love with images. Yes, it’s a chance to get away with girlfriends, but honestly, I never crave that. Maybe the getting away part, but I don’t feel like my relationships or time spent with them is lacking. And an evening holed up in my bedroom with my favorite TV show and knitting while Josh watches a movie with the kids covers any and all escaping cravings.

But in spite of all those non-reasons, I’m going. Mostly because I question whether I can. To further silence the little voice in my head that wants me to doubt myself. For 6 days in February, I’m going to leave the confines of my little island and venture out without Josh: my passport and ticket holder, my navigator, my money holder, my translator . . . when we travel he does all the hard things and I just smile and keep track of the kids. I’m not scared of going, but it would be easier to stay home and I have to remind myself, “Easier isn’t always better.”

We were about to purchase tickets when someone mentioned the possibility of using frequent flyer miles. I asked Josh if he would check and see how many miles I had on my United account just in case. It turns out I had just over 35,000 miles — enough for a ticket to Paris. The most amazing part about that number is that I flew every single one of those miles. No credit card points, no bonus miles . . . just time logged in the sky. For someone who used to feel sick just looking up at an airplane flying overhead, that’s a pretty amazing thing.

I’m sure Paris will be too.

Christmas part 2 (afternoon/evening)

You’re probably tired of caves, but we weren’t. The last stop on our tour would have made the “tour experience” worth it all on its own because it’s something we wouldn’t have seen otherwise.

About an hour from our hotel is this extensive cave monastery that I can’t do justice to with words. I also can’t do it justice with my photographs, but whatever, this is all I’ve got.

It was a long, goat scramble kind of climb up. I wish I could show the perspective from the bottom of the mountain. It was so steep in places we had to grab on to the sides of the rocks with our hands.

One of the main “buildings”

At the top it plateaued and there was a level of caves to explore. The caves went up several levels above that, but those were off limits.

Some were connected by tunnels

Some of the rooms were two stories and had balconies that overlooked the main rooms I couldn’t really take photos inside because they were dark and it’s not much to see. It’s an amazing place, but I can’t imagine living there pre-electricity.

She was a trooper

inside the church — there were frescos at one time, but everything just looks black now.

Carter is up where they used to keep the pigeons, in the top of one of the peaks

The niches in the wall are where the pigeons used to nest

This was a steep tunnel — Camille was shrieking the whole way down.

See the pointed fairy chimneys in the background? These are a special kind and this shape only appears here. Near our hotel they look more like mushrooms or phallic symbols (one of the areas is nicknamed Love Valley for a reason). George Lucas was inspired by this location and wanted to shoot Star Wars here, but couldn’t get permission from the Turkish government so instead he built his set in the desert in Tunisia.

I have almost no pictures of the boys because they kept running from cave to cave and disappearing into the tunnels

On our way home: a view of the valley near our hotel.

Playing chicken on the edge, of course.

We got back to the hotel and after a great day things went downhill when Camille started getting sick (fever) and cranky. Thankfully I had a warm fire, a comfortable chair, and my knitting to keep me company while she slept in our room and the boys and Josh all went to play cards and drink tea.

I made a baby hat with tassel. My own design.

We had a very Merry Christmas.

Reality Bites

I’ve gotten a bit sidetracked from posting our trip pictures the past few days because I had a new mountain of laundry to conquer. Carter started itching and scratching while we were on vacation and in the back of my head I knew what it was, but thought maybe it was a coincidence — hoped it was coincidence. Our closest friends had been infected with scabies (somehow, no one knows) before Christmas and had been treated, but since it’s spread through close contact and we are close, it was inevitable. Our boys run between the houses and mine sleep over so if their kids all had it, mine probably would too.

*** side note: I always thought scabies was an STD (thanks it being included in Mom’s medical book with all the STD photos), but it’s not. It’s a little mite that burrows under the skin and it doesn’t jump from person to person, but is only transferred through extended close contact like handholding, sleeping in the same bed, or rubbing an open wound against someone who is infected. It doesn’t survive long without a host, so Mom, no need to fear that you’re going to pick up some friends during your visit.

When Carter ended up with raw spots and scabs on his hands and wrists from scratching and I started feeling prickles of itching on my neck, I called and made an appointment. Since our friends had already been diagnosed the doctor thought it was best to treat it as scabies, but the pharmacy was out of the treatment (our friends got the last of it) and wouldn’t get any in for another week. However, Carter couldn’t go to school until he had been treated. He thought that was awesome, but my Sister Wife came to the rescue. It’s a two part treatment where you rub poison lotion all over every square inch of your body (of every person in the household) and that immediately kills them. Then you wash all your linens and any clothing that has been worn. Repeat the entire process again in 2 weeks. They had completed phase 1 so gave us the rest of the lotion and when I pick up my poison in a week, I’ll give them half. We shared the bugs and we’ll share our drugs.

The funniest part was while applying the lotion last night the kids started making up songs about scabies:

Sung to Justin Beiber’s “Baby” (in case you’re not familiar: baby)

Scabies, scabies, scabies . . . oh! I’ve got scabies, scabies, scabies . . . oh!”

and What Does the the Scabies say? (fox video)
Add in naked, dancing, butt-wiggling Camille and I couldn’t help but laugh.

So we are currently bug free, but drowning in laundry. Well, I was drowning yesterday. Then I got a message that Josie was back early from her vacation and God bless her, she put everything right today. Hoping the rest of 2014 is bug free!

christmas day

The town of Goreme. Isn’t it like something out of a fairy tale?

More of the beautiful Turkish lamps and carpets

Our first full day in town we explored on our own, but for the second day (Christmas Day) we decided to go on a tour. We are not typically “tour people.” You know, the ones that get herded from bus to attraction and look like sheep following the guy with the flag? We always pity those kinds of travelers, and prefer to forge our own way, but this time we decided to do a one day tour for the sites that were too far to walk to to save us the expense and hassle of renting a car. (This view of our hotel grounds looking out over the valley explains why there was plenty do see and do within walking distance.)

And it was a good day for a tour. It was colder and more overcast than our first day so it was nice to be in a warm bus, being driven from place to place. Then we’d hop out, take a few photos, look at the pretty scenery, and get back in the bus.

Thankfully our guide wasn’t a big talker — he’d say a few informative (and funny) things from the warmth of the bus and then set us free for a few minutes. There was only us and 3 other couples in our group so it felt almost like a private tour.

The first real stop of the day was at the Derinkuyu underground city. There are 100s of these kinds of cities in the region because the type of volcanic rock in the area is soft and easy to carve. We could even make marks in the walls with our fingernails.

These tunnels began as storage areas, but when the Ottomans (or some people group who was hostile to Christians) came to the area, the Christians retreated underground and could live protected for up to 4 months at a time.

The round stone is part of a system of security doors that could be rolled in place to keep attackers from entering the deeper tunnels.

We went down 5 levels underground by way of tunnels and steps

I didn’t go to the underground city last time “because of the baby” and because I was a little freaked out that I might get claustrophobic. It was totally fine. A few of the tunnels were small and you had to stoop to walk through parts of them, but most of the rooms felt big and airy. This is me happy that I’m not flipping out about being trapped in a tunnel.

Our family Christmas photo in the stables. I thought it was interesting seeing the underground stables for the animals since it reminded me that Jesus was probably born in a cave rather than the open wooden structure pictured in all the nativity scenes. Like the guide said, it probably smelled in there from all the animal waste and not a lot of fresh air (though more than you would think)!

The community also had grain storage, wine and oil presses, a church (on the deepest floor), sleeping caves, burial areas (they would eventually bring the bodies aboveground and bury them properly), and toilets. Our guide said they used to use huge clay pots and then cover the waste with ashes and then at then end of the underground stay they would bring them up and wash them out to be reused. That wouldn’t be a job I would want!

After we finished with the underground city, we headed to the Ihlara Valley.

In a similar way, this valley is lined with caves and hiding places where the Christians lived and hid.

Too busy to look at the scenery, Mr. Parkour and his teammate proceeded to leap on and off every rock on the trail.

Every. Rock.

Then we climbed 50 bazillion steps to the top edge of the valley. The caves are tucked in along the ridge.

The reason for the climb was to visit this old cave church with very old frescos on the walls and ceiling. The monks/priests used to use pigeon poop to plaster over the walls of the cave and then paint with natural paints/dyes on top of the “whitewash.”

The paintings are hundreds of years old, but weren’t protected until the 1980s. Everyone and their mother has scratched their names into the paint. The missing eyes and faces are all from when the Muslims came through — they remove them because human images aren’t allowed in places of worship in Islam.

tasting the snow!

winter wonderland

This is where the magic happens. We love the Cappadocia region anyway, but to arrive to a blanket of beautiful snow thanks to a snowstorm the previous week (the one that brought the first snow to Cairo in 125 years!) was extra perfect.

We were staying in the town of Goreme in a cave hotel and the best part about that location are the hiking trails and the fairy chimneys that were right outside our door.

After breakfast we bundled up in our snow clothes and set out. These two dogs hung with us all morning.

It was peaceful and quiet — we had the roads and the hiking trails all to ourselves.

The boys covered twice the distance we did as they ran ahead and back, pelting each other with snowballs.

Huge icicles — so we had to stop and throw chunks of ice at them to try and knock the biggest pieces down. Only I kept yelling that this was like a game of deadly piñata and they had wait to run in and grab the falling chunks of ice. I didn’t want someone to be impaled by a late falling spike of ice. I don’t think they believed me that someone could be killed by a falling icicle. I swear I read it in Little House on the Prairie (or some other pioneer book).