Thursday, May 17, 2012


When I was a kid, I used to look at maps and see all of the different places around the world, imagining their landforms and ways of life.  Now that I am older, I travel, not to them, but within them, for being in a place unfolds its reality before you even as you become aware that your home is closed to a dot or bounded compartment appropriately labelled in their own imagined geography.  Thus do I see that in the tiny Cappadocian tourist town of Goreme (population 2500), there are amidst lots of moderately of highly upscale restaurants only two doner kebab joints each of which knows there are only two of them, thus do I see the scattered food shops where local men gather to talk at the end of the day, thus do I see the street to the museum, steadily traveled by day, nearly deserted by evening, and an ever-changing mass of tourists from all over the world who mix together on various tours before going their separate ways.  This is the most basic experience of travel.

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