When Jon and I were planning our trip outside of Istanbul, we knew we would have to compromise. I happen to have an affinity for old stuff, and Jon was hoping for more of a beach holiday. So we met in the middle. We would go to Konya, a true center of Islamic art and culture, and then move on to the southwest coast of Turkey for a Mediterranean adventure. To get to Konya from Istanbul, we boarded the Meram Express, an overnight train. (left) The trains in Turkey can be slow, but they are also really comfortable and a good option if you want to travel during the night. Jon and I got our own sleeper compartment, complete with sink and refrigerator!
We woke up to find a very green and flat landscape outside of our window. Konya is in the plains of central Turkey, and the reason I wanted to go there is because it was the capital of the Seljuk dynasty in Turkey, as well as the center of the Mevlevi order of dervishes, known popularly as the whirling kind. Jon and I both really enjoyed the city. Lonely Planet has a laughable travel warning that the city is full of "conservative people," which I personally don't find problematic in and of itself. In truth, the people were super nice, the food was good (they have firin kebab, a fatty mutton slow cooked in the oven, and et ekmek, a kind of thin pizza with ground lamb), and I saw some pretty sweet architecture. Jon was a champ going with me to all the museums and holy sites; he even went into his first mosque!
This is the turquoise-tiled conical dome over the tomb of Mevlana Celaleddin Rumi, known commonly in Turkey as Mevlana, and commonly everywhere else as "Rumi," which actually only means "dude from the lands of Rum (Rome)." I had no desire really to catch an authentic whirling dervish performance, mostly because I doubted how "authentic" it was really going to be. That and I felt I was already asking a lot out of Jon, making him endure two solid days of mosques and museums, it seemed that adding men spinning around with funny hats for two hours was a little too much to hope for. 
The Seljuks ultimately had a lot of background and influence from Iran and Central Asia, so we see a lot of very pretty blue tile work in their architecture. Check out this kick-ass blue and black tile dome!
The Alaeddin mosque in Konya, a really interesting place that was probably built on top of a Byzantine church. The crazy white tent thing to the right, which looks to be straight from Tomorrow-Land, is a protective covering for what little remains of the palace walls.
So I need to talk about felt guy. Every region in Turkey is famous for some kind of product, whether it be wood, or clay, or amber. Konya's is felt. Shepherding is the main source of income for many of the surrounding villages, and the wool from the sheep is cleaned, dyed, and essentially matted together to make felt. The Lonely Planet told me that if I wanted to check out a master felter, to go to the bazaar and find Ilkonium. After the second try, we finally found the shop. It looked closed; the display windows were boarded up, and when we walked in the place was a complete wreck with piles of wool everywhere and a half-finished creation taking up the surface of two tables pushed together. Standing in the center of this maelstrom was a man we later learned is named Mehmet, who I refer now to as the felt guy. He was broad-shouldered, had a huge mustache, wore a denim shirt, and was chain-smoking. I asked him if they were open. He took a drag on his cigarette and told me "oh yeah, my wife and I just got back from this big craft show in Maryland, and we just threw our stuff down." He invited us to have a cup of tea, and we ended up sitting there with Mehmet and his wife, who is actually from Argentina, about the felt business and about my research. My favorite part was how he chastised me for not being able to produce an indigo vat my freshman year in college for a project I was doing, "that is like, the easiest one. How the hell did you screw that up?" As we were getting ready to go, felt guy invited us to come back to his shop for dinner. Jon and I had already made plans to have dinner with fellow Fulbrighter Aundreta and her husband, but Mehmet shrugged and told us to just bring them along too. It turns out that Aundreta had met the felt guy earlier in the year at an exhibition at the local university, and had been meaning to visit his shop for some time, so it all worked out in the end. It turns out Mehmet cooks some really killer kofte, and we had a wonderful banquet of meat, rice, and meze! Yum! We stayed up chatting with Mehmet till midnight, at which point we decided to wander back to the hotel. So lucky to run into felt guy!
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