Walking the Ilhara Valley with the Melendiz sisters

Walked the 14 km Ilhara Gorge trail today along the quick flowing Melendiz River, poplars and willow-like trees near the water, 90-degree red and tan sandstone cliffs rising on both sides not far away, great pieces of collapsed cliffside between us and the walls. Along much of the way, about a third of the way up the cliffs, are communities of doorways, windows, tunnel entrances, the narrowest of rock cut pathways, dovecotes. For centuries, this was once home to herders, monks and gatherers. Likely a safe-feeling and certainly a contained world. Interspersed with these communities are cave churches and a monastery, many with ceilings covered in Christian frescos. Two we entered contained tall decorated columns, just as you would find in most Byzantine churches.
Although people have moved to small nearby villages, we still pass small groups or singular souls picking grapes and squash, tending cows or inspecting tomato plots. Always a bubbling of voices wherever a group works.
About half way we pick up three friendly female dogs, or they pick us up. We quickly learn that they know the way very well. It might seem that it’s hard to get lost at the foot of a deep narrow gorge, but in this case, especially where the rock face has collapsed or the cliff comes to the water’s edge or many paths crisscross and meander, the best way forward is often unclear – but only to us, not the dogs. Yes their nimble habits take us to some scary places, and sometimes when we don’t follow, they suddenly appear far off and often ahead, sniffing about, putting in time until we catch up, sometimes seeming to shrug with a ‘we told you so’ look, sometimes heading off for an extra run. It’s only when we arrive at the end of the trail near our pension, that we are told that these three smell out walkers at whatever end of the trail they’re sniffing about, tag along to the other end and then hang out until more people who smell like walkers appear, then do the return trip. Back and forth, picking up a meal where they can, taking only a little attention for a thank-you. The four-legged Melendiz sisters – we’ll remember you when we think of the Ilhara Valley.
Thanks Muhsin for bringing us breakfast at the pension in Selime (where we walked the Ilhara Valley) and showing us around (in sandals and as agile as a goat) the cave monastery up the cliffside from the pension. May you one day realize your life-dreams, whether it is being a guide (as you said, smiling – did we understand each other?) or whatever else you wish. Twelve, thirteen is a good time to dream.