Travelling the world - one city at a time

The bus lurches to a sudden stop. Still half asleep, my two friends and I look around dazedly into the misty black night. “Goreme,” the bus attendant mumbles, pointing towards a row of shops in the distance and gesturing for us to disembark. Minutes later, with our bags at our feet and the bus merrily carrying on its way, the three of us look around, stupefied.

Reality sets in. It is 3 in the morning and the three of us – all still a little bewildered from being awakened abruptly – have suddenly found ourselves in the middle of a tiny town in Cappadocia with no idea where to go. The situation is not as bad as it seems – except that the temperature is flirting dangerously towards zero degrees Celsius and there is nary a soul about.

We grab our bags and head towards the buildings, our breaths forming wisps in the cold night air as we look about for some sign of life amongst the row of closed shops. After a survey of the complex while trying unsuccessfully to stay warm, we numbly realise – we may be in trouble after all.

A tall gangly boy, his shoulders hunched up against the cold, turns around a corner and makes his way towards one of the shops. He spots us three shivering girls and detours towards us. “Hullo,” he chirps, sounding amazingly perky for the time of night. “Are you okay? Do you need any help?” Our bus was three hours ahead of time, we weakly confess, and we’re stuck here until someone answers the phone at our hotel.

“No problem,” he offers. “Let’s go to my friend’s place.” He heads back to one of the shops and hammers at the door, hounding its occupant awake. It is almost three minutes before a man unlocks the door, squinting at the lot of us while rubbing his face blearily. He and the boy have a quick conversation before bidding us inside, taking our bags and offering some tea to warm us up.

Are you sure about this?? I ask, a little agape at the sudden turn of events. “No problem, no problem at all,” our saviour assures us as his friend yawns loudly and looks around for the kettle. “I was coming here to sleep too. I fought with my grandmother and left my house,” he admits, before breaking into a cheeky grin.

We try calling the hotel again but no response. “It’s no problem, you can wait here until morning,” our new friend mutters distractedly as he switches on his friend’s computer and puts on some music. The shopkeeper offers us steaming cups of tea, gives his rude awakener a friendly cuff on the head and heads to a corner chair to doze off.

My friends and I look at each other, grinning incredulously at our stroke of good luck. We thought we had seen it all when it came to Turkish hospitality, but thank goodness for a petty family squabble that night!