Cappadocia

A little too much wind and nothing lifts, so cancelled mornings are common. On the days that go ahead the crews gather before sunrise and fill the envelopes in the dark, and the call comes only at dawn. Leave a spare morning in the plan.

Churches cut into the rock cluster in one valley, each with frescoes still on the ceiling. The Dark Church kept its colour because it has almost no windows, and it alone charges a separate ticket. Footsteps ring inside, so any talking carries.

The place was dug down through several storeys and only part of it is open to walk. Long stretches run low and narrow enough to force a stoop, which is hard going on bad knees. Ventilation shafts reach the bottom floor, so the air holds up.

Steps drop you onto the canyon floor, and the walk follows the stream from there. Rock churches are cut into the walls along the way, and the tree cover keeps it cooler than the plateau even in high summer.

One block of rock standing at the village centre was hollowed out and used as a castle. From the top the valleys fall away in all directions, though the railings run low in places.

Rock pillars capped like mushrooms stand together in one valley. A block of hard basalt on top shielded the softer tuff beneath from wearing away. A few of the pillars have hermits' rooms and windows cut into them.

People lived in this valley until the 1950s and left when the rock turned unsafe. Kitchen soot and pigeon lofts survive next to the churches because of it.

Around sunset the tuff in this valley shifts from pink into orange. The path is poorly marked and you end up stopping at every fork.

The town throws its pots from clay lifted out of the Red River. Several workshops still turn a kick wheel and will sit you down at one. Shipping a large piece can cost more than the piece itself, so settle the size first.

Greeks built this village, and the carving on the stone doorframes is still there. The 1923 population exchange emptied it, and the families who came after moved into the same houses. Few visitors come, so the lanes stay quiet by day.

A city cut downward through many levels, open to visitors since 1964. Only the top four levels are shown. The tunnels are lower and tighter than Derinkuyu's, with stretches walked bent double, so tall visitors need to mind their heads.

Lore says a farmer north of Avanos found it in 1972, chasing water that vanished underground. Round rolling-stone doors survive, along with small holes bored from one level down to the next. Tour coaches skip it, so the passages stay uncrowded.

A village dug into a cliff, abandoned in the mid-20th century when rockfalls drove people to a new settlement below. The Church of St John the Baptist survives high up the cliff face. The climb is on footholds cut into the rock, so wear trainers.

Ortahisar's central crag was dug out as a fortress, and its top surveys the valleys. The tuff caves below stay cool and store lemons trucked up from the Mediterranean, plus potatoes. Walk past their doors and you smell citrus.

Between Goreme and Uchisar a valley bristles with tall pillar-shaped rocks. Most visitors stay at the rim viewpoint, though a path drops to the valley floor. At dawn the balloons drift low over it.

Pink tuff slopes turn crimson at sundown, and people gather for it. Hiking in from the Cavusin end brings you past small rock-cut churches. The way back after sunset is dark, so pack a torch.

A valley running down from Uchisar to Goreme, its rock walls pocked with dovecote holes. Farmers once gathered the droppings to feed their vineyards. It slopes downhill, so start at Uchisar and walk down into Goreme.

Rocks said to resemble animals earned it the nickname Imagination Valley, and the camel rock is the famous one. Unlike most valleys here it holds almost no carved churches or homes, only bare stone. Lying beside the Urgup to Zelve road, it suits a brief stop.

Three capped fairy chimneys stand together on a slope outside Urgup. The name means three beauties, and a legend tells of a family turned to stone. Being close to Urgup town, it fills with photographers toward sunset.

Two branches of a valley well south of Urgup are scattered with rock-cut churches. Best known are one whose dome was carved from solid rock and one painted with a serpent. Village women sell rag dolls at the entrance, and tour buses rarely come.

Where the Ihlara Valley ends to the north, an entire cliff was hollowed into one of Cappadocia's largest monasteries. A church-sized hall, kitchen and stables connect over several levels. Bits of the route are a scramble on bare rock; grippy soles help.

A two-storey rock church at Gulsehir, northwest of Goreme. An inscription in the upper frescoes reads 1212, so the paintings can be dated to the year. Cleaned of soot, the colours are bright, and hardly anyone comes.

A Seljuk inn for caravans, built in 1249 beside the road about 5km southeast of Avanos. The name means yellow han, after its tawny stone. Evenings bring Mevlevi sema performances in the great hall off the courtyard.