The day was beautifully sunny again and we set off from Goreme for the 90 minute drive to Ihlara with our American friends from the day before, Bob and Lynnea, and a good mix of experienced travellers.The guide today, Rosebud (Gonja in Turkish, and the only reason I remember her name is that it sounds like the dirty weed smoked by West Indians), demonstrated the hilarious guiding humour evident throughout Turkey by highlighting the cheapest 'hotel' in Cappadocia en-route.It has free accommodation, free food, free clothing, free books, free gym...you name it, is has it and it's all free!!! There is, as always, a catch...checking out is bit of a problem because, as you've guessed it, it was the local nick.We would have all rolled about in fits of laughter in the back of the bus at this side-splitting local humour, had out guide not pointed it out yesterday.

Ihlara is a township in Central Anatolia near the town of Güzelyurt and Mounts Hasan and Melendiz (two of the three volcanoes of Cappadocia). Nearby is Ihlara Valley, a canyon approximately 100m deep and 16km long which was formed by the Melendiz River thousands of years ago.The gorge was the site of our morning sojourn.What made the walk interesting, and what also makes the valley unique, is the ancient history of its inhabitants as the whole canyon is honeycombed with rock-cut underground dwellings and churches from the Byzantine period.Due to the valley's plentiful supply of water and ability for occupants to hide easily, the Ihlara Valley was the first settlement made by the first Christians escaping persecution from the Roman soldiers.At its peak it is believed that the valley housed more than four thousand dwellings, around 80,000 inhabitants and a hundred cave churches decorated with frescoes.Consequently, and as we saw during our 7 km hike along the valley bottom, there are scores of old churches in the volcanic rock caves; we only had time to visit one though, the Kokar Church.

The gorge walk was extremely pleasant but uneventful and it was incredibly sad to see the graffiti scrawled on the remarkably colourful and well-preserved frescos on the walls of the Kokar Kilise (The Smelly Church), save for the graffiti of course, some of which was as recent as 2006!! I must remember to visit St Paul's Cathedral when we get home and daub 'Stuart hearts Maria 2011' in a suitably prominent location on an invaluable piece of art!The Kokar Church contains many frescoes and our guide explained that on the left side is the Annunciation, the Visitation, the Proof of the Virgin, the Nativity and the Adoration of the Magi scenes. On the right, you can see the Last Supper, the Betrayal, Jesus being Led Away, Jesus before Annas and Caiaphos, the Crucifixion and the Entombment. On the door facing the entrance there is a Diesis above, with scenes of the Flight to Egypt and The Last Supper below was badly damaged when openings were made at a much later date for windows and a door leading into the burial chamber. On the ceiling is the Ascension and the Pentecost together with a large Greek cross with the hand of God giving benediction in the centre. On each side of the lower parts of the vaulting there are frescoes depicting the apostles standing and seated.The church really is a beautiful work of art and must have been a wondrous site when it was newly painted.

The walk started in isolation, with our little band of 11 seemingly having the valley to ourselves.Ah, the solitude we thought as we walked without another tourist in sight along the river bank, admiring the greenery and uninterrupted views. Oh, we reflected 5-minutes later as the quiet was broken by a steam-train of a group out to set the record for navigating the terrain using walking sticks and wearing silly hats and shorts revealing anaemic sticks for legs.Then, as we neared the lunch stop, the whole of the Turkish education system was waiting for us at the riverside as they were still celebrating their national holiday.Making more noise than Niagara falls, the young loves amused themselves by dipping their toes into the water, splashing around and covertly eyed up the weird looking foreigners as we wove our way through the throng to Belisirma for a rest and some food.

The Selime Monastery was the first stop after lunch.It's a huge and sprawling rock monastery carved into the rock by Christian monks in the 13th century and the only way to access it is by a pretty steep climb.The monastery incorporates a vast kitchen and soaring chimney, stables with feeding troughs and a church with a gallery all around it.The church was pretty stunning and the remains of the black and white fresco high on the wall were captivating.We were given 20 minutes to explore but my bloody memory card was full so wasn't able to take all the pictures I wanted.I can't believe that I've filled a 16GB memory card already!!!

The penultimate stop of the day was to Guzelyurt underground city, a two-story affair that was interesting but did not match the grandeur of the 4-story Makliki Underground city seen yesterday.Entry to the 2nd floor was made more exciting by the need to navigate a stone ladder carved into the rock and when we were all there Rosebud took me to one side and told everybody to say goodbye as she was turning me into a human sacrifice.We all smiled politely (it wasn't worth a laugh) and since nothing else happened we are still all figuring out what on earth she was going on about.No idea?

Fianlly to town of Güzelyurt itself (Karballa, Gelveri) which was populated predominantly by ethnic Greeks from ancient times.Their Church of St Gregory of Nazianzus was first built on the spot we visited in 385, though the large building that's there now dates only from 1896.During the exchange of populations between Greece and Turkey after World War I, the ethnic Greeks of Karballa moved to a new village near Kavala in Greece, and ethnic Turks from the Greek towns of Kozan and Kastoria moved here in their place.With the Christians gone and Muslims arrived, the great church in the shape of a cross became a mosque and the bell tower was turned into a minaret.

We returned home, passing the prison without the joke this time, and got back to the Kelebek about 1800.Maria had been invited out with our Dutch friends from today as they'd been into Goreme last night and found a friend of theirs who'd been a chef in Capetown.Anyway, we thought why not and, just when we thought they'd already left without us, who should we bump into but Caroline and Petra.We amble off into town, not quite sure of the name of the restaurant or its location then, hey presto, there we are at the 10 x 5 metre fabric structure, half hanging over what looked like a flood drain with space just enough for four.It has a wild-west stove and chimney stack by the door, no fairies living in this one, and is more or less split in half with a raised section with floor seating on the left and 3 regular tables on street level on the right.We take a table on the right as the 'comfy' part is occupied with loads of Aussies having a private party, which is lucky for us as our quiet little 'getting to know a little more about you' venue turns out to be the noisiest and hippest bistro in Goreme; well, for one night only anyway.The chef is warmer than an Icelandic volcano, gives us Raki to try, then throws away the menu preferring instead to let us sample a few of his favourite dishes.'Not too much food please', we say, 'We don't have large appetites', 'No problem, just little', is the reassured reply.

A few minutes later we are so inundated with, bread, hot salads, cold salads, wine and tea that we seriously think about stealing the empty table next to us just to make it all fit; so much for not needing lots to eat!!If we follow our breakfast lead Maria and I are convinced we could nick the leftovers and live off them for the rest of our trip!Whilst this is all going on the volume of the 'guitar', tambourine, clarinet, timbales and traditional song that has been gently serenading the 'tent' since our arrival steadily increases to the decibelage of an O2 Arena gig and the musicians and waiters dance their hearts out on the impromptu postage-stamp sized dance floor.The Aussie's are on their feet, wiggling their hips and backsides to the music, some of whom must have been dancing in a warped alternate dimension judging by the performances of the men.The skirt being passed around by them to determine who the dancing 'you're it' will be fortunately never makes it as far as our table.I am, however, handed a tambourine, which I manage to play in the non-male dancing hyperspace, so acquit myself quite well.I'm moving up to the triangle next!

The mountain of food cost a whopping 60TL (£30) but the cost of the evening was priceless.We'd been looking for traditional food, dance, music, song and ambiance for the whole trip and what have we found time and again - stage managed tourist attractions.I guess the old adage that the best way to find something is to stop looking for it really is a truism.