The photos are not identical. For example, the other photo of the same type of vegetation has large clouds. But, contrary to the current caption of Curran Trail this is also taken from Meadows Canyon Trail.

Another village we passed through. More typically dense than the village we stayed in a few house further on. There is a bamboo water pipe snaking down the hills to a trough where a bunch of villgers are gathered.

As Irmi and I hiked up into the hills we passed through this village.

I don't know how these guys had the strength to pull these rickshaws up the steep roads of Haridwar.

This is the family Janet and I stayed in while waiting for the village truck to go to our onward destination. The days spent in Kilichli, despite a lack of mutual language, were rich in feeling.

Slash and burn rice farming. A rice-stack.

A winter day, no farmwork, time for gossip in the village center. A mosque has been built in this area since then.

I have no idea what I was doing on the roof top in Hamadan but I look at the picture and remember the bright colors of the dyed wool yarns.

Judith and I hitched a ride on the village truck from Kas to Finike. What we didn't realize was that the truck was stopping for several days in this small village. Language was limited to a English - Turkish dictionary, yet we spent a wonderful 3 days there.

I have a wonderful set of pictures of people, mostly the family we stayed with.