Cappadocia is where the earth decided to sculpt. Volcanic eruptions millions of years ago created fairy chimneys — surreal rock formations that look like they belong on another planet. For a kid from Istanbul, visiting Cappadocia for the first time felt like discovering that Turkey held secrets even Turks did not know.
Now, as a National Geographic award-winning photographer, I return to Cappadocia regularly. Each visit, the light is different. The landscape is the same, but the story it tells changes with every season.
At 5 AM, the valley is dark and silent. Then, one by one, burners ignite. Flames illuminate colorful envelopes as dozens of hot air balloons inflate simultaneously. By sunrise, the sky is filled with them — drifting over fairy chimneys, casting shadows on ancient cave churches.
This is the most photographed scene in Turkey, and it is still breathtaking every single time. I shoot from the Goreme panoramic viewpoint with a 70-200mm lens to compress the balloons against the landscape. Golden hour light turns the balloons into floating lanterns against a pink sky.
The fairy chimneys here are tall, phallic rock formations that look impossible. At sunset, they cast long shadows across the valley floor. A 35mm lens from ground level, looking up, creates a dramatic sense of scale.
A 16-kilometer canyon with a river running through it. Ancient rock-cut churches with faded frescoes. This is where my documentary approach shines — capturing the layers of human habitation carved into stone over millennia.
Derinkuyu and Kaymakli are ancient underground cities that go 8 levels deep. Photographing in near-darkness with only torchlight and high ISO creates atmospheric images that feel like time travel. Low-light techniques are essential.
The highest point in Cappadocia. From the top at sunset, the entire landscape unfolds — a 360-degree panorama of valleys, chimneys, and distant mountains. I use a wide-angle lens and stitch multiple frames for panoramic prints.
Turkish Hospitality: Every visit to Cappadocia includes Turkish breakfast with local families — eggs, cheeses, olives, fresh bread, and endless tea. These moments, photographed in warm kitchen light, are some of my most treasured images. The landscape is stunning, but the people are the real treasure.
Every photographer has a landscape that shaped them. For Ansel Adams, it was Yosemite. For me, it is Cappadocia. This is where I understood that photography is not about capturing what you see — it is about capturing what you feel. As a Turkish-American, photographing Cappadocia is an act of cultural reconnection. The landscape is my heritage, rendered in stone.
From Turkey to Japan through the lens
What I pack for every destination
The city where it all began
Many times. Cappadocia is in my blood — I am Turkish-born, and this landscape shaped my visual imagination long before I picked up a camera. Returning to shoot there feels like coming home.
April-May and September-October. Moderate temperatures, clear skies, and the hot air balloons launch daily. Dawn is the only time to shoot the balloons — they fly at first light and last about an hour.
Goreme panoramic viewpoint for balloons, Love Valley for fairy chimneys, Uchisar Castle for sunset panoramas, and the underground cities for atmospheric interior shots. I always rent a car to reach remote valleys.