Issue link: http://digital.canadawide.com/i/597384
ian lloyd neubauer W I N T E R 2 0 1 5 | W E S T W O R L D 39 of marble, was founded around 1,000 BC by the ancient Greeks and in the second century BC became a Roman capital. It is now one of the best preserved ancient sites in the world. We walk the pillar-lined street made of smooth white stone, passing the remains of fountains and statues. At the centre stands the impres- sive library facade, which draws you down the road. Walking toward the exit, we look back and see the looming amphitheatre – 25,000 people once sat there, almost 2,000 years ago. Our last stop on this trip, Cappadocia, is magic. Volcanic eruptions have laid out layers and layers of differently coloured rock and ash, which rain and erosion have broken down unevenly, creating mountain ridges and other- worldly turrets known as fairy chimneys. At the centre is the Göreme Open Air Museum, where groups of tourists wander around in awe. I run up one of the hills overlooking the site and, without all these people around, I could easily be on some undiscovered planet. We explore an underground "city," a dark, maze-like cave eight levels deep where early Christians hid from Roman persecution. You can still see spear holes used by the inhabitants for defence. That evening we watch the whirling der- vishes and we're asked not to speak or clap. is is not a show; this is a ritual, a meditation. When the enchanting music starts, the danc- ers tilt their heads to one side and raise a scooped palm to the sky. As they spin, their robes swirl, forming a circle slicing through the air, with sharp corners that seem lifted with invisible string. Afterwards, Yesim tells us this dance is called Sema. "It means eternal move- ment. They are representing the universe through dance." Staying quiet is not a problem: we're mesmerized. I doubt you could travel this vast country without wanting to return, to go deeper. And whether you're coming or going, the gateway is always Istanbul, as it has been for centuries. On our last night in the city, we take a yacht along the Bosphorus. We pass lit-up mosques as their calls to prayer resonate across the water, haunt- ing and beautiful. Glittering lights from the Bosphorus Bridge reflect in the dark water. A giant ocean liner passes us, silent except for the deep warning horn. I think about how much these waters have seen, and how much is still to come in a city and country that's still adding new layers. (clockwise from top left) Tap detail in Istanbul; Demircidere Village women in traditional clothing; café in Istanbul's Grand Bazaar.