Hardly a kilometre later, in absolute contrast to standing atop Cappadocia, I found myself descending deep into its belly at Kaymakli. I hadn&rsquot anticipated anything like this. A vast, subterranean warren of tunnels and rooms sank as far down as eight storeys, and I was in one of the largest of several ancient underground cities that excavations have revealed. Do these number 30, 40 or even 100 No one knows for sure. Built predominantly around the 4th century AD as hiding places by Christians escaping persecution at the hands of the Romans, some of these cities are believed to date back to 1800 BC or so, when the Hittites, an early Anatolian tribe, first settled here. We half-crawled through a constricted passage that was once a storage room for grain, sometimes used as a wine cellar. Lower and lower into the earth&rsquos interiors we descended, the air growing progressively chilly, the corridors tightening around us. We suddenly entered an opening that had me straightening my back in relief. "Were these toilets" I asked, indicating a neat row of small depressions at one end of the room. "Possibly," answered Baris, "for this was the cleaning area." I stared around in fascination, down another tunnel which widened into yet another opening perhaps the communal living room. There was a time when a few hundred or more people lived together in this dank, sunken labyrinth &mdash cooking, sleeping, washing... even the imagination faltered.