My walkabout: A most unplanned adventure

Adopted by Boat Crew

2010-08-14T19:55:00.000+03:00

It was time to leave the very very hot southeast and go to far eastern and cooler Van. We returned to our breakfast place for an amazing breakfast before finding a bus to the bus station and bording the Best Van Tur bus. Although we were told the trip would only take 4 hours, it actually took about 5.5 We encountered a rockslide, tons of road construction and then a Kurdish demonstration that took the form of a parade of cars, filling the main street of a small town. Finally, we entered Tatvan, to be told that we would not be taken past the ferry boat terminal as promised, but instead be left somewhere in the middle of town. Very grumpy we took a taxi to the ferry terminal at the edge of lake Van to see if there would be a boat going accross. When we got there, we were told that there would definetly be a boat at some time, but it could be in one hour at 5:30, or it could be as late as 9 or 10. The trip would be 4 hours, and it was only 5TL. We decided to wait. The reason for the unclear time of departure, we found out was that we were waiting for the transasya express, the 3 day train from Istanbul to Tehran. Whenever the train turned up, it would be loaded on the boat and we would leave. Indeed, the boat had been lined up so well that the train tracks that ended on the bank now lined up with the train tracks on the boat (!) so the train would be able drive straight onto the boat.

Having had no idea what time the boat would leave we had rushed from the center without eating, and had not eating anything since breakfast. Asking one of the captains, a man with glasses and a plad shirt if there was time to go back into town, he said maybe or maybe not, but the iskele bufe should have food. After asking them and scolding them for not having anything he invited us onto the boat for food. We walked along the traintracks on the boat and back to a table in the back with a couple of chairs and a bench. We took a peek in the kitchen where the chef was chopping up an enormous piece of meat. The captain, whose name we found out was Atila told us to sit, the food would be ready in 10 minutes. While that seemed unlikely we sat down. A few of the other guys came over too. To avoid too much male attention since we didn't know how long we would be waiting, I pretended to only speak a little bit of Turkish. The captain's english was fairly good though and we had a broken english conversation. He told us that 25 people work on the boat and he was one of the three captains. He was in charge of stowage - unloading and loading the boat. There were also engineers and and machinists. The cook was also the ticket taker. He brought out three rolls of cookies, and then went to get us tea from the guys at the other table. We told the guys that had come to sit down with us and they asked how many children we had. Insallah I replied - If god wills it - which is always a satisfactory reply to that question.

The food was not going to be ready, and after learning that the boat went twice a day, that it took cars as well as trains, and other things, we excused ourselves to go take some photos. Once around the corner out of earshot I started calling hotels in Van to make sure we would have a place to stay when we got in at midnight or later. We took some photos, then returned to the iskele where we sat, and played many games of uno. At long last, although it was really only about an hour, we heard a train whistle, and it was one of the most exciting things I've heard in a while. We immediatly jumped up, but a guy told us the train wouldn't arrive for another half an hour. And then, suddenly the train had arrived and many many iranians were flooding off it with all their stuff and rushing to the boat. We were taking photos until we realized that we too needed to get our stuff on the boat before there were no more seats. We abruptly got our stuff and left, realizing on the way we had probobly missed our chance for food.

We threw our bags on some seats in the main cabin, watched two of the train cars get loaded onto the boat and then went to the bufe to get some toast and drinks. Sitting on the rather full top deck we ate and watched the boat as it pulled away from shore. The view was fantastic and the weather was no hot. After some photos and a bit of exploring by Mark, captain Atila found us. He first took us to get our tickets, something we hadn't figured out where to do yet, then took us upstairs into the crew's area, where one man was eating dinner. He insisted that we sit, than put large bowls of kuru fasulye (beans) in front of us, along with cacik, rice and a whole loaf of bread. It was fantastic. He told us that he had already eaten, but had only eaten cacik because he was on a diet. I noticed the wedding ring on his finger and asked about his family. His family lives in Tatvan and he has a 16 year old son that will finish high school next year, and an 8 year old son with downs syndrome. He told us that he's on the boat for 9 days and only gets 1 day off after that. Not good for seeing his family. But he does make 3,000TL a month, which is good money considering the minimum wage is 630 TL a month. He is from Antalya, and after highschool did an internship before he got his job.

After I finished my first bowl of kuru fasulye, and tried to indicate I was full by patting my stomach, the captain insisted upon filling it. We were not allowed to help clean up, but then moved to the other table to eat watermelon. I ended up saying Mark had a watermelon allergy so the guy wouldn't be offended by his not eating it. We also took out our remaining pistacios from gaziantep, and insisted upon leaving them in the crew area for the other guys to eat.

After sitting and talking until the point that my fakely bad turkish would allow no more, and declining a nap in the captain's cabin we got a quick glimse of the engine rooms before going up on deck. The deck was like a massive party. People were dancing and singing. Others were playing cards. Others, too tired, were just sitting or sleeping. The captain told us that the train after Van would be an Iranian train, and all the women would have to cover up after leaving the boat. He said that going the opposite direction the women get on the boat, and start to take off layers of clothes. So this was their last partying for a while. We started to play uno, and soon the captain had come over, as had a bunch of Iranian guys. After playing a few games, we invited the captain to play. He played one hand, and seemed to be catching on, but decided one was enough. Next, an iranian guy with fairly good english took a turn. Other guys were standing around trying to help him as we explained the rules. One guy in particular seemed to understand, and wanted to know how many cards there where, so he could see if that was possible. But when I said I didn't know, he told us it was boring, and decided he didn't want to play when we invited him. After a while our crowd faded.

Soon the captain returned and told us he wanted to show us the navigation room. We abandoned uno and went to look. At this point the captain realized that I was understanding too much not to know Turkish and told me so. One guy was steering, and another of the three captains (who had taken the pickle from Mark's toast with wink and eaten it) were in the room. We were shown the radar with the map of where we were going, the compass, and other important stuff. We were once again asked if we had children. The other captain told us he had three but wanted five. We walked out to the front where we could see an incredible amount of stars and the milky way, as well as the last captain sleeping on the ground.

We returned to the deck, which was slowly emptying of people. Eventually Mark went down to get my hoodie and camping pad to sit on. It got cold enough that even he had to get his sweater. When it was finally too cold we sleepily returned to the main cabin for the last few minutes, and after we docked left the boat.

One of the crew was ofloading his pickup truck, and after seeing that there were no taxis the captain told the guy that he should take us into town. He agreed, and after the offloaded a massive harvester, we put our bags in the back, and got a lift. He left us off at a traffic circle, which turned out not to be the one on our map. So we got a taxi, and turned up at our hotel at midnight completely exhausted and happy to be there.

And thus it was we were adopted again.

Closed Due to Fallen Rock

2010-08-14T18:59:00.004+03:00

We took daytrips from Diyarbakir the next two days, enjoying the fact that we didn't have to take our big packs with us and find a new hotel. I had always heard about Mardin, and so the next day we were up early and to the minibus area. The minibuses go when they are full, and in this case ours was quite full. One mother had gotten two seats - for her and her three children. Other mothers had children up to what looked like age 12 on their laps. I understand having children perhaps up to five on one's lap, but beyond that it gets silly. That, and the kids are not protected by the minibuses insurance. And three kids in one seat is just insane. There was a long discussion between the driver and one mother, which only ended when one of the girls in question told them to stop it. Before the end of the trip, one girl, who was finally old enough (about 15) to get her own seat went through her entire English repetoire with us, which took a maximum of five minutes.

The old city of Mardin is built on a hill, with the new city sprawling below. We got off the bus on the main street, which runs along the hill about halfway up. After walking a bit, Mark looked through a doorway, and discovered a view, as well as a cafe looking out at that view, so we stopped for a coffee, feeling a bit out of place to be sitting and looking at the view instead of staring at the screen of a laptop.

We visited the very impressive Sultan Isa Medresesi, the gorgeous post office, and attempted to see the Forty Martyrs Church, but true to form it was closed to renovation. I did get us in to look at the inside, but it was covered in wooden scafolding and dust. The buildings in old mardin, or the old ones at least are made of a honey colored stone, and many have amazing carvings and elaborate decoration.

After our wandering we went to the Cercis Murat Konagi resturant for my belated birthday lunch out (thank you Mike and Marie Riddle!). It comes very highly recommended by the lonely planet, a place where the women of Mardin do all the cooking. The building is amazing - an old christian courtyard house that has been redone. Our waiter was a flamingly flamboyant gay guy in a pink shirt. He insisted on explaining the very complicated menu in English, although had he done it in Turkish I would have understood better. We ended up getting some icli kofte, a very impressive platter with small amounts of mezze in metal ladels, and a stew with plums, lots of pits, chick peas and lamb. It was all really good and a bit amusing.

After managing to get out of our chairs, we walked through the baazar area. Because there are lots of steps going down the hill, cars can only use the main street, and don't enter the baazar. And so we saw donkeys. And guys making saddles and one rolling black stuff onto what looked like wax paper. He explained what he was doing, but I managed to not understand a word. We made our way down to the bottom of the hill through the maze of streets. At one point we passed a boy crouched down. Instead of saying hi and then asking for money he worlessly handed us both cucumbers, something that's never happened to me before.

At the bottom of the hill we gazed up at the city, and then made our way to the bit hotel, which is a very faded four stars, and where the amazing view of the city that is on all the postcards was supposed to be found. The view was amazing, and the drinks horribly expensive. After taking many photos, we caught the bus back home, exhausted by the time we got there.

Our second daytrip was to Hasankeyf. Hasankeyf was the one of the few places I really really wanted to go to on the trip. Perhaps the one I wanted to see the most. I had no idea what it was that was there, only that it was supposed to be amazing, is a UNESCO world heritage site, and is supposed to be flooded when the planned dam on the Tigres is built as part of the GAP project. So we needed to see it soon, before it was flooded.

To get to Hasankeyf we took a minibus to Batman (yes, there is a town named Batman!) and then changed to another that would pass Hasankeyf. The bus went along the river before crossing it at a bridge, where we got off. We immediatly walked back accross the bridge for views back across the village. From there we could see the massive pillars that remain from a much earlier bridge, as well as the castle, caves and village. We also passed a large number of goats using every inch of shade under the few trees to sleep.

Back on the other side of the bridge we stoped in a corner store to get water, and were told that the site was closed as a rock fell and killed a six year old. We were a little shocked, and wandered on until we were overwhelmed by a familiar scent - gozleme! and had to stop and eat some. Across the street was a little office with the photo of a very pretty blue bird. We stoped in to ask where we could find the bird, and the man, telling us he was working against the dam said it would be very hard to find and the site was closed, but he could recommend an alternate route for us. Walking with him a little farther down the road we came to a gate. We could go no further. We were shocked. Every bit of the old village, caves and castle was closed. And it wasn't just a rock that fell, but part of a cliff, a massive piece of rock. We were very dissapointed. We had gotten to the place before it flooded, but a month too late to explore.

The guy told us that we could go up and around and get a view into the valley, and then up and around again to have a look at the caves around the back. Figuring it was better than nothing, we took his advice. The first view was very nice, and we were trailed by a purple shadow, maybe 10 years old, who never said a word. Up and around again we climbed on the roof of a cave goatshed to get an even better view. There was a house behind us and all the children peeked out, put underwear on the baby, and then brought him out and begged for a photo. So Mark took one.

We walked a bit through the valley behind, but a little paranoid about more falling rock, and also a bit hot didn't walk too far. I had been very excited about eating at one of the platforms over the river while dangling my feet in the water, but the road down to these had been closed off along with everything else, and this was not to be. Instead we ate at a resturant with a balcony over the river, and a view of the bridge. But it was a view over the Tigres river, and we had some very lovely fish.

Exploring the village a little more we found that the cave cafe we wanted to visit was also in the closed zone, but there was a garden resturant, that at first seemed nice, but got less so as they started watering the plants and it got muddy and soaked the bottom of my backpack. After visiting the mosque we decided that we had seen all that was left to see, and it was time to go. It is quite an amazing place, and even though it was closed, I'm very happy to have gotten there before the water reached the window at the top of the minaret. At least the stork's nest on the top would remain out of the water.

Big Stone Heads

2010-08-05T21:03:00.005+03:00

We left early from Urfa the next morning, catching a bus to Kahta. We got to the otogar, and took a minibus that was supposed to go straight to Kahta. Except that it only went to Adiyiman, and when we got there we were told we had to wait for the next vehicle. So grumpily we sat and waited and I drank tea. The next bus had some dutch people in it - the first westerners we had been in transport with in a very long while. A bit later a Spanish guy got on. He too was planning to go to Kahta. And the reason one goes to Kahta? To visit the giant stone heads at the top of Mt. Nemrut (Nemrut Dağı). Arriving at 1:30 at the hotel recommended
to the Spanish guy, we were just in time to book onto the tour leaving at 2, dump our stuff in the room (no AC) that we had just gotten, change our shoes, and grab some lunch before getting on the bus.

There were six of us on the bus - the three of us and three koreans. Our driver knew barely any English, and Mark and I were sitting up front to avoid me getting carsick, and so I once again slid into the role of translator. Our first stop was a burial mound, the Karakuş tümülüs. Surrounding the mound are three pillars with statues. One was an eagle and one a lion. The are very large and impressive. After walking around the mound we once more got into the van, to stop a little farther on at the Cendere bridge which was built in honor of the Roman emporer Septimus Severous. On one side of the bridge we saw a large group of people dancing to a loud drum, and others picnicing and swimming. As it was Sunday everyone had left the heat of the town to find some cool. Next came the very cool but disappointing new fortress, disappointing because it had been closed to visitors for 10 years. After wandering up to it, and taking photos we returned to the cafe accross the street where our guide was lounging and used the opportunity to drink lots of water. The temperature was somewhere up above 100.

Next came the selcuk bridge, which, although there has been a new bridge built, is still used by cars. We walked across the bridge, then walked down to the stream running underneath it where we waded accross. And the guys stripped down to their shorts/underwear and went swimming. But because it was eastern turkey only the guys got to swim, and I had to stand there in the sun and got harrased by a guy. I was a bit jealous, and very glad that I had Mark along for the journey, as this was one of the few times I got harrased.

Our last stop before the summit was Arsemia, which was the summer capital of the Commagene kingdom. We saw several friezes with greek carved into the back, one tunnel that was blocked off and another that extended down for some 158 meters. I went in maybe 30. Mark went until it ended and emerged later very dirty and happy. We walked up to the top to see the view, and then came back down to find our guide.

And then it was time for the big heads! The sun was getting low in the sky as we headed to Mt. Nemrut, but our guide assured us that there would be enough light. The road was much better than the lonely planet indicated - the guide said it had been repaved a few years back. We were left at the parking lot, and along with everyone else, started walking up to the top of the mountain. The top 50 meters of the mountain was created by the same guy who ordered the big heads. They used rock chippings from that and other things to make a huge cone on top of the mountain. It's incredible. Although the temperature was a little cooler, the hike to the top was still a bit of a hike. We first went to the eastern side. The bodies of the heads are in their original location, but the heads have fallen or been taken off and are sitting on the ground. They are absolutely incredible. The western terrace heads are even more amazing, although the bodies are no longer standing. We took lots of photos, and then sat, eating our antep fistik, and watching the sun set. It was magical. And then a guy blew a whistle and told everyone it was time to get off the mountain. So slowly slowly we did.

The way back was much longer, but it was on a bigger road. Back at the hotel we had a mediocre dinner, and then the worst night ever as we tossed and turned in our 90 degree room. The fan seemed to blow hotter air than what was coming in the windows. We ended up sleeping with wet towels for pillows as they cooled us down a bit. It was horrible.

The next morning we caught an early dolmus to Siverek. The old road to Diyarbakir, our final destination for the day, had been flooded by the making of the Ataturk Dam, and so now the dolmus goes on a very small and rickity ferry for about 20 minutes accross the lake. The dolmus was so full and people had so much luggage ours had been tied to the top. In Siverek we caught the next dolmus to Diyarbakir, and from the minibus terminal had to take another bus into town. We were staying in the old town, which is surrounded by massive intact basalt walls. There only seem to be two roads in the old city that buses go on, and so we had to walk a bit to the hotel area. The first we tried was horribly expensive. The next expensive. And the third one, as luck always seems to have it, was just right (okay, it could have been cheaper, but it was about average). We immediatly left to get food around the corner and then came back to our lovely airconditioned room to have a nap. Mark was exhausted as he hadn't slept the night before at all. Two hours in the cool and dark later we emerged to try to find dinner. Diyarbakir seems to have few resturants, and the ones it has are all kebab places. We walked on and on and then found a small shop that said it only had breakfast. And so we went in. And what an absolutely amazing breakfast it was. So amazing I am going to detail all of it. We had kavurma eggs - eggs slow cooked with lamb meat and spices (Mark is contemplating marrying the man, his eggs are so good), sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, olives, crumbly cheese with butter on top, homemade yogurt, fresh blackberries, van style herb cheese, white cheese, kasar cheese, a small plate with sliced banana and fig with kaymak (like clotted cream), honey and walnuts on it - the food of the gods we decided, and lots of bread straight from the bakery. And tea, water and fresh orange juice. It was the best Turkish breakfast I have ever had in my life.

After a night in the airconditioning we felt much better, and after eating the hotel breakfast, which had great honey, but was otherwise disappointing after our amazing breakfast of the night before, we went out to explore Diyarbakir. Diyarbakir gets a bad reputation, mostly because it's the Kurdish capital, and so has seen a lot of violence. But everything was calm when we got there. We had absurd numbers of kids saying hi to us, and then many of them asking us for money. We either said no, or Mark asked them for money.

We first visited the walls of the city, at the opposite end from our hotel. We walked all the way down the main street, and found ourselves in a park. The walls were cool, or should I say very very hot. We had a nice view of the area outside the walls, and people on the roofs of houses outside waved to us. As someone afraid of heights though, walking on a narrow section of city wall sometimes unnerves me a bit. After returning to the ground we walked through many narrow and twisting streets to the Church of the Virgin Mary. It was supposed to be closed for lunch, and when three kids answered the door they told us it was indeed closed. But Mark looked very sad and told them we had come all the way from Australia, and the little boy let us in. A man showed us around the church. It was incredible. It's a Syrian Orthadox Church, and they speak Syriani. Next we visited the Behram Pasa Cami. When we went in a kid ran in in front of us and turned on all the lights. He proceeded to give us a tour, taking us up to the balconies so we could get a good look over the mosque. It was beautiful, both the inside and the black and white striped stone outside. When some other kids arrived and told us to keep going so we could see the roof, the kid in charge told us not to and so we didn't. At the end I was sure he was going to ask for money, but instead he asked us to put some money in the collection box. He must have only been about 9 or 10, but he was taking his job very seriously.

After discovering a closed house museum and that it was call to prayer time, we decided that it was lunch time. We walked back down the main street, stopping in the cheese market to buy some Diyarbakir cheese in a small flat disc. It was so salty and curdy it seemed it couldn't possibly melt in the heat. We also got some peaches and bread and returned to the park along the walls for our picnic. It was a lovely picnic. And then it was time for more old buildings. We found the Chaldean church was open, so we had a look inside. The courtyard is incredible. The other house museum was very closed and banging on the door many times yielded no results. So we walked north to the citadel. No one seemed to know where it was. Inside was a very non-exciting mosque, and the poorest part of the city we had seen so far. We walked a bit of the wall, but couldn't see the promised roman bridge with 10 arches, and I was feeling a bit sick from the heat so we returned to the airconditioning for a bit.

Later it was still hot, as we made our way to the ulu cami, and then discovered the first house museum we had visited was now open. It had some amazing white stenciling on the black basalt walls of the courtyard. The insides of the rooms had not very exciting displays with wierd manakins. Walking back we went past the han we kept meaning to investigate and noticed that right in the entryway was a sign advertising manti and icli kofte. We went in immediatly. The food was amazing, the guys seemed very amused to have us there and we left very full and happy.

Sacred Fat Fish

2010-08-04T20:58:00.004+03:00

We left Antakya after breakfast the next morning. Erdem insisted upon walking us to the otogar even though we knew the way. After the guy there sold us our tickets he called the bus driver, telling him to come pick up the tourists. The minibus showed up, picked us up, and took us to the minibus terminal where we waited for more people. There were only a few other people on board by the time we left, and in hopes of picking up more people, spent over half an hour crawling out of Antakya, honking at all the people walking by the side of the road, as if this would make them realize that they suddenly had a very strong need to go to Gaziantep, or Antep for short. No one had an instant change of heart though and finally we started to go at a normal speed. The airconditioning barly worked, and gave up completely halfway through the journey. And the host guy kept yelling into his phone, sometimes in Turkish, and sometimes in Arabic or Kurdish or possibly both. He also elbowed Mark in the head. Then, unfortunatly it was his turn to drive, and he continued screaming down his phone and passing people as Mark and I sat there a bit scared. It was the worst ride of the trip so far, and then the driver couldn't even drive us into the otogar to let us out properly. We then took a very scenic drive on a city bus, which did eventually lead us into the center of Antep. We went into the Güllüoğlu hotel, which is above the güllüoğlu baklava shop and asked for a room and then looked pitiful and asked for a student discount. The cut 10TL off the price so we decided to stay.

Starving, Mark took the bags up for the room and we immediatly left to find some food. We got some food around the corner, but after eating it realized we were still hungry. Walking around the area Mark got a liver sandwich from a street vendor and I got some very yummy banana milk. And then we went up into our nice airconditioned room, and slept in cool bliss.

The next day we woke up to find that Mark's liver sandwich might not have been the best thing to eat. After breakfast we went to the train station to find a nice, but completely clueless guy behind the desk. He thought he could make us a reservation for the Ankara-Istanbul train, but had no idea there was a train from Kars to Kayseri and told us to call that office. After he suceeded in making the first reservation, which took a great deal of fiddling with the computer on his part, he realized that he could do the same thing for the second ticket. The first two days we asked for were full, but in the end we left the slightly more confident man with two sets of train tickets.

The train tickets too all our remaining money, and so we had to walk past the museum, back to the center and take out money before returning to the museum. Which was closed for lunch when we got there. We spent nearly an hour reading in the gift shop/cafe waiting for it to open. The museum is amazing, incredible, beyond words. The site of Zeugma has been partly flooded by the GAP project, and so the museum did a large number of rescue excavations and moved the incredible mosaics to the museum. There's a model of what they looked like in the site, and it must have been wonderful to see them there. The mosaics are mostly intact and phenominal. The biggest was about 20ftx12ft and completely intact. Words don't do it justice, I shall post photos soon.

After the museum we walked up to the castle, decided it was too hot to climb up to it, and instead went around the side of it and through the market. The focus of the market is copper and tin work. There were a few guys sitting around, etching pieces, and another couple polishing. Good thing I have no space in my bag, because I wanted to buy a number of things. After wandering through the market we found the famous Imam Çadas resturant and baklava shop. They claim to have the best baklava in Turkey. Antep is famous for it's pistachios, so all the baklava is pistachio baklava. The ayran (yogurt drink) came in large tin bowls with a spoon like ladle for drinking. We had lahmacun and then very amazing baklava, but I still maintain that mom makes the best baklava in the world.

We couldn't leave Antep without buying what Mark declared were the best pistachios he had ever eaten. Those purchased we got our stuff, and took a less round about bus to the otogar. Entering, there were two companies going to Şanliurfa, one on each side of the entrence to the platforms. We were going to the left, when all the guys on the right started gesturing madly to us. So we went to them. They had a large bus showing on their tv monitor and told us it was leaving immediatly. It left another 15 minutes later, but that's pretty immediate for Turkey.

The bus ride was lovely, cool, short and direct. Sadly, the Urfa otogar is also about 6km out of town. A guy that was talking to the driver told us that he would take us to the center as he was also going there. Looking at eachother we agreed. He told us about the things we were passing and in a friendly Turkish way asked too many questions about where we were going. I told him we were going to look around, and so he insisted upon letting us out in the area where all the tourist stuff was, even though we wanted to get out half a mile before. He handed a package in a black plastic bag to a guy, and we said goodbye and left. We walked back to our hotel, which turned out to be shorter on foot than in a car. The hotel was on a back street, had airconditioning (good as it was 110 F or 43 C), and was cheap. The walls were so think though that we could feel the heat radiating out of them as the airconditioning tried to cool the place down. Leaving the hotel we discovered that the entire town seemed to shut down at 8pm. There was nothing open for dinner, or nothing open that had içli kofte. We ended up sharing a medeocre kebab outside, and then, still hungry walked back to the area where we were earlier and had a toast and slushie before returning to the airconditioning. Next time I visit southeastern Turkey it will be in April or October!

Urfa is said to be the place where Abraham was born, and where he was put on a pire to burn. Except that he got knocked off and was saved and the coals from the fire fell in a pool and turned into fish. Today, a part of Urfa is a park with the sacred lake of fish, numerous mosques, and the cave where Abraham spent the first seven years of his life in hiding. It's a lovely place. We first went to the lake of sacred fish. Sacred and very fat fish. All the visiting pilgrims want to feed the fish and make a wish, and so when you stand next to the pool and raise your arm, all the fish rush over, even if there isn't actually any food in your hand. It's also forbidden to feed the fish, so the pool is very full, and fish that have escaped the pool wind up all over town in various waterways.

Next we visited a couple of mosques and then the cave where Abraham was born. There are seperate entrences for men and women. The women's entrance was quite full and had women crowding around the two fountains, pushing a bit, and filling up large numbers of bottles full of the water which is supposed to have healing properties. I got a glimpse of the cave and then left.

We walked up almost to the castle to have lunch at the cift magra (double cave) resturant. It is, as the name suggests, in a cave, and it was amazingly cool inside. We sat on benches covered with cusions at the back of the cave to eat. We both had içli kofte - spiced ground meat wrapped in a bulgur wheat dough and then fried and cacık - a yogurt and cucumber salad. It was quite delicious and we followed it up with tea and then Mark followed up his tea with a coffee, which we then both followed up with a walk through the heat and a visit to the internet cafe.

Walking through the park we had found several cafes surrounding small fountains, and one of them had nargile (water pipe). Finding a seat next to the fountain Mark smoked his nargile, and I caught up in my journal. The area is without a doubt the nicest park I've been to in Turkey. After leaving the park we went for a walk in the baazar and got lost in the backstreets of Urfa. After our first pass of the baazar we hadn't found the sites listed on the map, so we dove back in. We found the covered bedestan selling lots of scarves, and then stumbled out into a beautiful two level han where lots of people (mostly old men, but one family) sat around drinking tea and playing backgammon. Inspired, we sat down for a tea too. On our way back through the bedestan I stopped to look at scarves at a stall with three women dressed in a traditional style. A lavender colored scarf with white emrodery seems to be the typical thing here, so I stopped to look. The vendor wanted to put it on me, but instead I asked one of the women. She took a black and white silk scarf and wrapped it tightly around my head a couple times and did a fancy tucking in thing, then loosly wrapped the lavender scarf around my head. She was also wearing a very sparly overcoat in purple and gold. Mark looked at a scarf too and the guy tied it on for him. Deciding we hadn't bought anything really touristy on the trip we decided to buy them.

Leaving the baazar we had to return back to the center of town to find money and visit our hotel and then walk all the way back down to a resturant with a terrace we had spotted. We had Urfa kebab for dinner - a must when in Urfa, right? It was lovely and much more spicy than the Istanbul stuff. Despite all the warnings of Urfa as a very conservative town, we found ourselves very welcome there, and I think it's my favorite place in the southeast.

adopted in Antakya

2010-07-31T21:01:00.003+03:00

Lovely Antakya wasn't nearly as hot as Antalya, which suprised me a bit as it's inland. I had been in Antakya twice before. The first was in 2001 when we spent the summer in Ankara for Mom's research. The second was in 2007, when I took the bus from Istanbul to meet Mom there so she could help me through the Syria border so I could spend Christmas with her and William in Aleppo (see http://travelingmouse.com/story%20pages/syria_christmas.html for more).

We arrived and took a service bus into town to the old otogar. For some reason they keep making new otogars for all towns and cities which are on average of 6km from the city. From the old otogar we found many hotels, which all seemed overpriced at first, but we eventually settled on the Divan hotel. It had airconditioning, but there were no rooms with double beds left, so we went for lunch while the guy took our stuff up the stairs and pushed the beds together. We had lovely pizza and slightly cold fries and felt better. Overnight buses leave one quite hungry. Returning to the hotel we basked in the airconditioning before venturing out to the internet and then the market. We found more slushies and some pancake things and then bread with pepper and cheese on it. The market area is awesome and has everything. We found the Habibi Neccar Cami. Habibi Neccar was from Antakya but was a christian or something and is buried in the mosque with two saints. I'm a little confused about the story, but the mosque is very impressive.

Feeling we should eat dinner we found the best iskender place in Turkey. I had been there in 2007, but none of use could remember the name, just the general location. I remembered what the upstairs looked like, so I went upstairs in a couple of resturants (which confused the waiters greatly) before finding the one we had been to. The Iskender was superb, although some of the old photos on the wall were missing - apparently they were stolen. And then it was time to sleep in a stationary bed yay!

The next day we ate a breakfast of pastries from little shops on our walk to St. Peter's church - the first cathedral and the place where christians were first called christian. And by going on a pilgramage there one also gets a plenary indulgance. It's a pretty amazing place. Back to the center we shared some Kunefe, the famous dessert of Antakya. It's made of very thin hair like wheat noodles with cheese layered on the inside, baked and then drenched in syrup. Maybe it sounds weird, but warm and fresh from the oven it's amazing.

Mom and William's friend and fellow couchsurfer Koray met us with his car at the PTT (post office) and took us around. We went to a place called the Anadolu House for lunch. The resturant is in a restored old Antakya house, and Koray ordered a selection of traditional dishes. We had wild thyme salad, olive salad, hummos, ali nazik (a bed of eggplant cream with meat on top), an eggplant salad, a very spicy paste of red peppers and walnuts and I think that's all. It was absolutely amazing. Koray had gotten married a few days before, and had only gotten back from his honeymoon the night before. He works at the university and is also the founder of the Antakya youth center. He was great to talk to and knows a lot about Antakya. After lunch he took us to the salkıev (hidden house) cafe. We tried a very strange neon pink drink called haytali. It's made from rose oil as well as sugar water and has sort of tapioca cubes and ice cream in it. It's refreshing, but at the same time a little strange. We sat until 4 with Koray, and could have sat and talked longer, but it was time for our next visit.

We went back to the hotel, collected our stuff, and were picked up by Mihriban Teyze. Mihriban is my friend Ömür's aunt, and Ömür told us we should go visit. The family lives in the old part of Antakya around a courtyard, where all the cousins and more distantly related relatives live. When we arrived we were taken out into the courtyard for tea. Melik, Mihriban Teyze's son was playing a game with three of his cousins. Mihriban Teyze's cousin and her two grown daughters were staying at the house while theirs had work done on it. Ömür's mom and her grandfather also lived in the house. Tea of course was not just the drink. There was pepper bread made by Mihriban Teyze, some cookies from the nearby town of Salmandağ, and some from Syria. Relatives, hearing that we were visiting, kept dropping by to say hi, getting up, and being replaced by more relatives. One was Erdem, who lives in Bahrain with his family, and learned English from the American soldiers at the base there.

After many cups of tea and cookies, we went up the hill to another relative's house to have coffee. We sat in her courtyard and she served Turkish coffee. There was an orange tree and some other kind of fruit tree and a couple of turtles, which we looked for but couldn't find. After a full evening of Turkish, we were shown the upstairs flat, helped to take the dust covers off, an fell into bed.

The next day I awoke late, it seemed had everyone else. We had breakfast around noon. To get freshly baked bread the family doesn't even have to leave the house - they just call the bakery accross the street, which delivers. Breakfast was fantastic, and included a Syrian specialty which one of the women named TNT. It's eggplant stuffed with hot peppers and perhaps pickled a little. Mark loved it. I thought it was good, but maybe a bit too spicy for breakfast. As we were finishing Cemile and Hatice, Ömür's younger sisters arrived from Istanbul.

Soon after, Erdem came over, and we walked to the minibus which took us to Samandağ. We thought we were going to meet Ömer's mother, and so were a bit surprised when we got out at a resturant. Erdem talked to one of the guys and then we got into his car. Turns out he was Erdem's uncle. Erdem's uncle took us to the school where Ömür's mom is principle. We had some tea, and at Mark's request visited a kindergarden class. Then we got back in the car and she got into another car and we drove out to see the titus tunnel. First there's an archway over the river. Samandağ apparently had a problem with flooding, so the emporer Vespasian started and his son Titus finished a tunel that would control water flow. The water today is almost non-existant, especially in summer, so we could walk through the tunel. It was a bit dark, but really amazing. The best part though was the cradle cave or Beşikli Mağara. It's a cave with three or four arches at the front, and completely filled with rock-cut graves. Sadly everything has been stolen so there's nothing left inside the graves. The place is absolutely fantastic, and yet it's not in the lonely planet, even though it's just a few meters up the path.

A bit muddy, we returned to the cars. It had been Erdem and his uncle's first time visiting the site as well. We went a few hundred meters down the road and then stopped at a resturant where Ömür's mom ordered us balik ekmek (fish sandwich), which turned out to be amazing, and far more exciting than the stuff in Istanbul. Back on the road again they had to go get petrol, so we stoped at the side of the road, watched a very full tractor go by, as well as a guy on a donkey, watched the lizards Mark found, ate a bunch of grapes we stole and waited. Soon they were back and we continued up into the hills. The view over Samandağ, the mountains and the sea was stunning. Our next stop was the Moses tree in the village of Hıdırbey. The tree is around 1500 years old. It is supposedly on the spot where Moses visited with Khid (the green man). The tree is hollow, and supposedly at one point there was a little market set up inside it. The inside has many strings tied as this is supposed to grant a wish. We had a glass of tea in the shade of the tree and then continued on. At this point Erdem's uncle needed to return, and so we crowded into the backseat of the other car.

Somehow we missed the turnoff to the last Armenian village in Turkey, and continued on to another village that had a church that had never been finished. It was dated 1134, but didn't look that old, but perhaps it was. Ömür's mom said that because it was built on stone instead of soil it wasn't damaged in an earthquake like so many of the other buildings of area. The sun was setting and it was quickly getting dark. We continued along, going down now. The man driving the car, another relative whose name I have sadly forgotten dropped us off at the main road. After eating very fresh fried dough soaked in syrup and getting very sticky we managed to find a minibus with space which took us back to Antakya. When we got there Cemile and Hatice were waiting for us with the car. We went back only to go to Erdem's family's house for coffee. And soon after we arrived so did many other family members. Soon we left, exhausted from the wonderful day.

Flames from A Mountain

2010-07-31T19:50:00.002+03:00

Olympos was not quite what I expected. I expected a few hippi treehouse places out in the middle of nowhere, near the sea and the ruins with no cars, birds singing, and lots of flowers. Maybe that's how Olympos used to be, but it's not anymore. Turning off the main Fethiye-Antalya road, it's another 11km twisty and narrow road with mini buses going far too fast. Past the first few camps/pensions/tree house places the road is paved, but then it becomes a red clay mess with too many cars, and parked cars and pedestrians. It looks like a one road tourist town mess, and that's what it turns out to be. Our driver insisted on driving us all the way through to the tiny V-Go hut, where we told the guy there we had arrived and then walked back up the road to the place we were staying - Şaban. To be fair, Şaban is awesome. It has lots of places to sit in the shade and read books and have cold drinks. It has hammocks. It has free internet in a hut with airconditioning, and it has little wooden huts on stilts - tree houses in the olympos sense. We had a tree house to ourselves, with matreses on the floor and breakfast and dinner included for 30 lira each.

Dropping our stuff in the hut, we went back to the main area to have a drink and the manager Meril came over to chat. I had apparently gotten very dehydrated and was fairly out of it until I had drunk 1.5 liters of water. We used the internet and waited for dinner. Everyone lines up to get their food - it was very remenicent of summer camp as kid. The food, however, was much better. We had salad, an eggplant salad, mucver (fried zucchini patties), pilav, and fried fish, with enough for seconds. After dinner we went for a walk, found the Canadians from the boat, discovered the tatoo place only did Henna tatoos, and I got some very exciting earrings. We then collapesed into bed, discovering that the way to keep the place cool was to leave the door open.

The next day we did almost nothing. I say almost because Mark and I seem incapable of actually doing nothing for an entire day. In the morning we read, wrote, used the internet, had lots of beverages, ate breakfast, wandered around a bit and read some more. Around 4 we decided we ought to go see the beach and the ruins, and so joined a crowd of people going in that direction. The beach was packed, and it seemed packed only with Turks. The water was lovely, but the beach, like most Turkish beaches was very rocky. We swam a bit, not that swimming is necessary. The water is so salty that you can float in a standing up position without moving arms or legs. After floating around we decided to climb up to the ruins of a tower or castle thing. The views were amazing, but Mark's hat blew off, and landed at the edge of a sheer drop, and so we had to leave it there, in that beautiful place, and hopefully it is resting happily.

Down from the tower thing we walked back along the very empty river, through very cold springs and pools, on a trail through the woods under an arch to see some sarcophogi and broken mosaics and then back to Şaban for another lovely dinner. We then boarded a very full minibus, and took the narrow twisty road back up to the main road and after less than 50m on the main road turned down another narrow twisty road, went through a little town, and stopped. We were at the enterance to the Chimera, a site where gas comes out of cracks on the side of Mt. Olympos and burns upon contact with the oxygen in the air. As it's best viewed at night, that's when we went. It was a steep uphill walk for 15 minutes in the dark, by the light of Mark's very bright head torch. And then we were there. There really aren't words to describe how cool it is to see fire just emerging from the earth. A few guys were cooking sausages over one of the fires. And everyone else was just wandering around and staring. We couldn't stay too long though because the bus was leaving, and soon we were headed back down and gulping water, then back on the slightly scary journey and to our home sweet tree house.

The time had come to leave major tourist areas, and so the next morning we caught a bus after breakfast up to the main road, another very crowded bus (people sitting on stools in the aisle) to Antalya, and from there booked our 15 hour overnight bus to Antakya in the province of Hatay, which is still considered part of Syria on some maps. For more information read my mother's book which will be in print in February. With a few hours to spend in Antalya we took a bus into the center, got a map, and walked back out to the museum slurping blue slushies. The museum was amazing. They have more statues and sarcophogi than they really know what to do with. And they are all in amazing incredible condition. At the end of two hours looking at things from the paleolithic period to the present, my eyes were a bit glazed over.

We had a picnic of crackers and sardines on the grass nearby, took a look at the crowded beach and decided we had no desire to go there, and took a tram back in the center to look at the old town. It was nice, although perhaps a bit too nice to be real. We found a lovely cafe with a view of the harbor and sat for a bit to escape the heat, and then had some pasta before returning to the otogar and boarding our bus. It was a surreal ride. I listened to hours of Harry Potter 6, and then when that messed up Harry Potter 4 on Mark's Ipod. Mark read my Harry Potter 3 book. It soon got dark, and we started to doze off. I would wake periodically to road construction on the very very windy coast road with views of the full moon, sea, fog, and mountains. It was very eery and surreal. We stopped twice, the second of which was at a place on the sea, where we could see the yakamoz (the light of the full moon on the sea - 9 words in English, 1 in Turkish). We were very glad to arrive in Antakya the next morning. 15 hours is too long on a bus.

a very blue sea

2010-07-31T13:19:00.003+03:00

Brenden drove us to the V-Go office Tuesday morning where we checked in, and then waited with an ever increasing number of people and bags. After looking at booklets of all their offered tours and thinking we might never leave, it was time to go to our boat. Our boat was Ömer Kapatan 1, and the captain's name was indeed Ömer. The rest of the crew included his wife and his 12 year old son Ismail. There was also their 5 year old son Hasan and 13 year old Osman, a friend of the family who would be going with us as far as Kaş. After being instructed by the V-Go representative that there were no shoes to be worn on board, no toilet paper to be put in the toilets, and that we should shower off when getting back on the boat after swimming. And then we were off! Although the boat was a sail boat, the sails never went up. We didn't have enough crew to sail anyways.

We motored to a small bay near Fehtiye where we went for our first swim. The water was crystal clear and oh so lovely. When lunch was ready the bell rang and we all sat down at a large and very solid wooden table at the back of the boat for salad, green beens, bulgur pilav and yogurt. The other people on the boat - there was an Iraqi family with two daughters - one in medical school and one hoping to start medical school in a year or two, a brazilian girl, and four candians - a mother and daughter, as well as the mother's best friend from highschool and the daughter's best friend.

After lunch Ismail pulled up the anchor and we departed. The water was a bit rough and the boat rocked a bit and I got a bit sick. And then realized I had motion sickness medication in my bag. We went around a large point, past Ölüdeniz, saw a bunch of paragliders, and went accross the bay to kelebek vadesi (butterfly valley). The water was incredibly blue - like the color of a blue crayola crayon. We anchored there and swam ashore. Brenden told us that the famous waterfall had no water in it and was a waste of time and money, and we didnt't have time to walk there anyway, so we just walked around the little hippi tent village. And didn't see a single butterfly. Back on the boat we went back the way we had come and stoped next to St Nicholas's Island for the night. As soon as we were anchored among about 15 other boats, a boat came by with ice cream and Gözleme (like crepes). And old lady was sitting there in the boat with a big cast iron griddle rolling out and filling the Gözleme. Mark and I were sharing a lovely chocolate and banana one when the bell rang for tea time. By this I mean tea the drink, not tea the meal. So very civilized having tea, coffee, and buscuits on a boat.

After our tea, the captain took us over to the island in the little dinghy. St. Nicholas (Santa Claus) spent some time on the island, and as a result it's completely full of ruined churches, which are amazing. There's the long remains of a tunnel which used to be a procesional way connecting the palace at the top of the island and the church at the bottom. Mark also found a bat cave with hundreds of bats inside. They freaked out a bit as we looked in and started to fly out just past our faces. We reached the top as the sun was setting and then returned back to the little peir where the three kids came to pick us up in the dinghy. As soon as we got back it was dinner time - I guess they had been waiting for us. We had grilled fish, eggplant salad, salad and fruit for dessert. The mother of this family is an amazing amazing cook! I was exhausted as soon as it was dark. We all slept on beds at the front of the boat, bringing our pillows and blankets up from the cabin as it was much much to hot to sleep inside.

We were awoken at 5am the next day by the sound of the anchor chain and the motor starting. Soon we were yawing from side to side and, with my bed at the edge, I was feeling I might slide off. Switching with Mark I had a bed on the inside, and managed to sleep a bit more over the next 4 hours as we went along. Finally, we stoped at Firnaz bay where we immediatly got in to swim and then had breakfast and swam some more. The bay is also named Aquarium bay, and after breakfast we went snorkeling. It was amazing! The water was crystal clear, and visibility was great. Paddling around we found lots of plants growing on the rocks, fish and more fish, and then I spotted an octopus in a rounded hollow in a rock. Two fish next to it seemed to escort it to another rocky outcrop where it dissapeared. And Mark found a small moray eel. I felt like I was doing well with my go-fish with real fish on the cards game tally. Have you got an octopus? Yes!

After leaving the bay we went towards Kaş. We stopped a bit outside the town to have lunch, then went into the harbor. We had about an hour to explore the town, but it was very hot, and I had adjusted to the boat so well that the ground seemed to be rocking if I sat down anywere, and especially if I went into a small space like a bathroom. We wandered around, sat in a tea garden, looked at lots of tourist stuff and earrings and then got back on the boat. Osman left us to go back to his family. Happily back on the boat we left for another bay, more swimming, more snorkeling, and a lovely dinner with barbequed chicken once again falling asleep just after sunset.

Day 3 fortunatly did not start with the sound of the anchor chain at 5am. Instead, we all slept as late as we could with the sun up and blazing, and then swam and had breakfast. After breakfast we motored to a small cove filled with daytrip boats. Told we were only going to stay here 2 hours, but instead staying about 4, we didn't actually go into the cove until the very end as we kept thinking we were leaving. Grrr. When we did leave, we went past and over the partly sunken city of Kekova, which was cool, but not as impressive as the name sunken city would lead one to believe, and were going to the village of simena we spotted a huge amount of smoke. Heading back we saw that one of the day trip boats was on fire. We think everyone jumped overboard and was safely rescued, but there was no hope for the boat. We all stood and watched as it burned and part sunk. The family stood at the prow with horrified looks on their faces. The mom said she had never seen a boat on fire before. We could tell they were thinking about their family - what if this had happened to them, their family livelyhood could be gone just like that.

Turning away we went to Simena. With no room to dock we dropped anchor and went ashore in the dinghy, 4 at a time. The Iraqi family choose to stay on board. They hadn't swum either, most likely because they didn't know how. The village is very cute. We followed a group of obnoxious astralians from another boat up up and up to the castle, which has amazing views out over the water and the rest of the village. The views would have been better though if there hadn't been three girls sitting in the place with the best view and complaining about everyone on their boat. Back down again we explored a bit, visited the sarcophogus in the harbor and then got back on the boat to go into a bay with a small enterance and many branches - perfect they said for pirates. We snorkeled more, but visability was not great as cold water and warm water kept mixing. We could see the density waves in the water. The evening passed the same as the others - swimming, snorkeling, dinner and bed. I now have quite an impressive tan (for me). Hasan, the 5 year old has just warmed up to all of us, and has discovered he has a lot of new playmates.

The last day we woke up latest of all and were still in the same place long after the other boats had departed. All a bit confused I asked the captain, who told us that we were waiting for the place to become a bit less crowded. Good to know, the problem was that the family spoke very little English and I found myself translating quite a bit. Not that I mind, and maybe they would have spoken more English if I hadn't been there to translate. We went past the pirate's cave and had 10 minutes to swim around inside it before heading off to Demre where we pulled in, had a last lunch and most delicious lunch, filled out evaluation forms and got a small boat to a small bus. There was supposed to be an opportunity to visit the ruins of Myra and St. Nicholas's church in Demre, but in reality there was time for neither. Just time to get a popsicle, look at the outside of the church and go to the bankmachine. And then we were off on the bus to Olympos to stay in a tree house.

a village and more pork

2010-07-26T15:09:00.003+03:00

Our bags when opened tend to explode. In our last two days in Fethiye our stuff had managed to get all over the house, so we spent Saturday morning convincing everything to go back in our bags, and taking out what we would need for our next adventure. We were going to the village of Minare, near the ruined lycian city of Pinara. Brandon and Ayse had a house in the village, and Brandon had volunteered to drive us out for a few days when they returned from Marmaris. After packing we returned to the beach for another lovely full English breakfast. On our way back we bought food for the village (no shops there) and pork sausages at the pork shop. Everyone had returned from Marmaris when we got back to the house, but we had to wait until about 5 when the Danes returned, as only Brandon's car could make the trip to the village. So we sat around. And talked. And read. And I learned to make Gozleme. And then the car returned and we loaded in our bags and all our food and the very fat dog and headed out of town. On the way we narrowly missed three people who decided to run out in the road, and after a very narrow windy road arrived at the village.

Brandon's house is at the top of the village. And it is absolutely amazing! I still haven't seen the promised photo of what it was like when they bought it, but I think it was pretty ruined. Now it's amazing. The building is stone and has two floors. But there are no interior halls or stairs. All the rooms open to the outside, not onto eachother. The stairs are also on the outside. Half of the top floor is a covered terrace and the other half is two bedrooms. The downstairs has a kitchen, a bedroom and a livingroom complete with TV and DVD player. The garden is wonderful, and after we got there Brandon put out two benches, a hammock, hammock swing, and another swing. The toilet is in its own little building. After goldie sniffed everything and Brandon set everything up and had a cup of tea, they left. Mark and I went for an explore around the place. Everyone was highly confused as to why we were still there when they had just seen Brandon drive off. Everyone I could understand that is. I found teethless village women a little bit difficult. We passed a very noisy cow that wanted to be milked immediatly and a guy walking around wıth a shotgun on his back. Back at the house the neighbor who was hanging around earlier didn't want to leave. And he didn't seem to realize Mark was there, talking only to me. I thought somehow having Mark around would make it okay to speak Turkish without sending the wrong signals, but this doesn't seem to be the case. After getting him to leave we made mashed potatoes and sausages...mmm pork!

The next day I woke up without an alarm when I got really hot. So moved out onto the terrace and read there. It was a thoroughly lazy and lovely and hot morning. Which stretched until 5 when we decided it was cool enough to go look at the Pinara ruins. Mark mostly remembered the path, although we took an accidental detour to visit some lycian rock cut tombs that he hadn't seen the year before. Then it was up to the ampitheater and along the ridge to visit even more tombs. The tombs are amazing, but were all broken into ages ago, and now nothing remains inside. We went into the site the back way, and stayed up on the ridge. As we were finishing and nearing the main road we heard a car. Hiding behind the trees, we watched the site caretaker/ticket takers drive past, saving us from paying the site fee. The natural setting is just as amazing as the tombs themselves. Returning back to the house I made spagetti for dinner and read to the sound of cicadas.

The next day was more lovely reading and doing nothing. And sewing Mark's ripped shirt while he surveyed the territory which was very amusing. Brandon arrived with John and we packed up the place and he drank some of the sweet tea I had made (I think the first sweet tea I've ever made). Then we were off in the car in a new direction. Up and around and through and then parked the car at the edge of the lycian way and walked up to an abandoned house for a spectacular view of the sea. And Brandon, on his return to the car asked Mark what he thought of a chuck of land nearby. Nice was the reply. Good, said Brandon, because it's ours. We continued on to a village and then on a very sketchy road to the yediburun lighthouse botique hotel with an amazing view of the seven noses or seven points. A lovely place for a beer, or to spend a weekend, or to write a book. And then it was back to the house, to meet the new Turkish guests staying in the house next door, and another barbeque, even more massive than the first. And there was an adorable 2 year old that drank too much coke and got very silly and giggly and dogs wanting the chicken bones. And after all that one last swim in the amazing swiming pool before going to sleep with thoughts of boats in our heads.

Mud baths and gorges

2010-07-23T19:06:00.002+03:00

Fethiye was lovely. And the reason it was most lovely was because of our hosts Ayse, Brandon, and their daughter Aylin. One of our good friends Simay is the nice of Ayse and Brandon, and Mark had visited them the year before with Simay. Brandon told him to find a girlfriend and come back, and Mark had taken him at his word.

We arrived at the otogar not knowing how to get to there place, having a vague idea of where we were going. Waiting at an intersection for a dolmus a man stuck his head out of the window of his old blue station wagon to ask where we were going. Hearing we were going to Calis beach, he told us to get in. He pointed out the bar where he worked on the way past, and dropped us right at the beach before going to have a beer there. He refused our offer to buy him a beer, so we started the trek away from the seaside to Ayse and Brandon's house. Mark remembered the road, and so with no wrong turns we arrived at their house soaked in sweat. Although they already had five visitors they were very happy to see us, and we arrived in time for the barbeque.

Brandon's cousin John was visiting, as well as one of Simay's other aunts, who now lives in Denmark, her husband and two of their friends. Ayse invited us to come with them on their daytrip to Dalyan the next day and we happily accepted. After moving tables into the garden and watching Ayse grill mountains of chicken we all sat down and ate and ate until we could eat no more. And then the happy dog goldie got to eat the remains.

The day trip to Dalyan was incredible. Mark, John and I were in Brandon's car, and as Brandon doesn't like the new tunnel that they've built under the mountain so tourists can avoid the narrow windy mountain road, we took that narrow road. And the views were spectacular, although we got into a small amount of trouble later. At Dalyan Ayse negotiated a boat for us, and a young looking captain in a pink shirt with a mullet crazy looking hair cut took us out in his boat. Although he didn't look it, he did turn out to be a good captain. He first took us through the reed lined chanel (supposedly used in the shooting of the film The African Queen) to the sandbar beach which separates the lake and fresh water from the beach and sea water. Lots of sea turtles lay their eggs on the beach, and no one is allowed to be there after dark. On the way there we passed some spectacular lycian rock cut tombs on the cliff face. The beach was amazing - clear blue water, sand going out forever, small waves. Boarding the boat once again we went over to the crab boats to pick up our crab order, and to watch as guys threw crabs on lines out into the water trying to lure turtles up to the surface. One did pop up for a short time, but was apparently too full to reemerge. But still, I saw a leatherback sea turtle! And then sat on the boat and ate some amazing crab.

Our next stop was the mud baths. Basically, you go in, laze about in a warm muddy pool smelling strongly of sulfur. Then cover yourself and others in mud and wait for it to dry before rinsing off. Then you are sprayed down by a guy with a pressurized hoze before going into the very hot hot pool, which smelled even more of sulfer. And at the end the hot air feels cool, and your skin feels like a baby's. This is the mud that they export and sell for lots of money as facial masks. And it's oh so fun to play with. The final stop was a swim in the lake before going back to shore for some food and ice cream before returning to Fethiye and a dinner of leftovers and chips (fries).

I should clarify - Brandon and Ayse have two houses that share a well. So the Danes were staying in the other one. And the second night we slept in our tent in their garden after stealing their daughter's room the first night. But the next day all the inhabitents of the house we were in went off to Marmaris to visit relatives, and left us with the whole house to ourselves for two days, which was great. Our first day we went into town to explore Fethiye, and it's pork products. Calis beach is full of brits, which means it's also full of all day English breakfasts, complete with bacon and pork sausages. For a teacher living in Istanbul and very pork deprived (Mark more than me as I'd just been in France and the UK) this was food heaven.

Convincing ourselves we could move after our breakfast, we walked along the beach, and then took the water taxi into the center to research our boat trip. Lonely planet gives dire warnings about what can happen if you don't research your trip well enough, and we were scared. We walked on two boats and asked lots of questions, but in the end those boats didn't have space or weren't going on the right days. In the end we chose V-go, which had been reccomended by one of Mark's friends. That task down we wandered the center, visited the fish market, got some fish for dinner and went home. Mark cooked the fish to perfection.

The next day we visited the natural wonder of Saklikent. It's a canyon that's been cut into the stone, and is so narrow at most points that they daylight doesn't penatrate. We took a dolmus through villages before arriving at the entrance, renting plastic shoes and hurring in to be ahead of the large group that was massing. The first bit is a wade through an icy stream where they take your photo, but after that the water is shallow, and it's a bit boring until the canyon narrows, and then it's over rocks, up small waterfalls, all the time walking in the water. At time bolders are stuck above between the walls of the canyon. It's an absolutely incredible place. We hiked a couple of hours before deciding it was getting a bit too difficult, and we were getting very hungry after only sharing a toast that morning. We were a bit slower on the way back as we lounged in pools of water and found an amazing natural rock waterslide. The way into the gorge is on a walkway but for the brave of heart (or crazy people) for the return you can be swept away in the freezing river for a few hundred meters. Of course we went this way. Then you pull yourself out of the river onto the platforms of the resurant located there. We sat on a platform overlooking the river and shared quail and omlet before returning to Fethiye. Back in Fethiye we went for a swim in the sea at Calis beach and then had fish and chips to bring back a bit of Mark's childhood.

ruins galore

2010-07-15T22:29:00.004+03:00

It's been a very ruin filled week. After leaving Ayvalik we headed to Selcuk. The buses don't go directly there though, so we had to take a bus to Izmir and then change to a mini bus to Selcuk. Selcuk is the closest town to the ancient city of Ephesus, which is why we were going there. After calling the local camping place, which refused to tell me the price of camping, we decided to stay in a hostel. The room was lovely, and it had a shower and air conditioning, both of which were very welcome after one night on a bus and two camping. Our first day and a half in Selcuk, Mark started and finished at least one book, we visited the Ephesus museum, the ruins of the impressive basilica of St. John, found a camping pad, saw the remains of the aquaduct and its nesting storks, and wandered the market. And this was the day and a half we had given ourselves for down time. Apparently we are horrible at doing nothing.

Ephesus is about a 4km walk from the center of town. We got there fairly early in the morning, so it was empty when we started. It didn't take long though for large groups of tourists led by guides bearing umbrellas started to flood in. The area is absolutely amazing. There's a theater, a smaller theater called the odeon, the library of celsus (the image seen on all postcards) which has been reconstructed by the Austrians, the latrines, the baths and more. By far the best place was the terrace houses. There is an extra charge to get in, but it's well worth it. The houses were built into the side of the hill, and seem to be part of an ongoing archeological restoration. They've been piecing together various bits of the marble wall siding and frescos that fell off the walls. There mosaics on the floor are just as incredible as the decoration on the walls. Walking up the hill, we passed more ruins, which are in a more ruinous state than the ones below. Only an arch or a pillar remains standing.

The road back proved longer than the road there, and we had enough time to get our packs before walking to the bus station. When our bus turned up, however, there wasn't enough room for everyone. The bus station in Izmir had oversold the bus. And so we had to wait for the next bus, which turned out to be a half sized mini bus, and more like a dolmus (shared taxi) than a bus, stoping for everyone by the side of the road. But it had airconditioning, and it got us there.

As we got off the bus in Pamukkale (cotton castle) we were mobbed by people wanting us to stay with them. Fortunatly we had called ahead, and one of the guys in the crowd was for the dort mevsim pension where we were planning to stay, so he put us in his van and drove us there. It was a good deal - 7 lira a person to put up the tent, as well as use of the internet and swimming pool.

Pamukkale was created by a very calcium rich spring which now puts forth 260 liters of water a second. It used to produce even more. When it comes in contact with oxygen the calcium precipitates out of the water as calcium carbonate, which then settled on the hill making white pools and just generally covering the place. The romans thought the water was healing, so they built a spa city named heiropolis above it, and so now you can visit the natural wonder of pamukkale, and the roman ruins as well.

We spent the entire day there. The entrance is at the bottom of the hill, and then you walk up through the white area. Shoes are not allowed because it damages the site, and so as Mark pointed out, we saw our first barefoot security guard. We visited all of the ruins, including the octaganal temple of St. Phillip the Apostle, supposedly built on the site where he was martyred. It was up a large hill, and there was no one else around. We saw the theater and the ruined temple of apollo, and were shocked at the price to swim in the ancient pool and so didn't, and visited frontius street and a bit of the necropolis while consuming about 5 liters of water. It was hot. On the way back down we watched the sun start to set as we swam in some of the man-made travertines (pools).

Our second morning in Pamukkale we spent most of the time in the calcium rich swimming pool - fed by the same spring up the hill. I feel I should somehow have stronger bones after sitting in all that calcium. Midday we caught a ride back up into the village to catch a bus to the seaside town of Fehtiye.

The cat goes to class

2010-07-08T19:29:00.003+03:00

Sometimes things don't start quite as you thought they might. This was one of those times. We arrived at the Anzak House hostel in Canakkale at 1:30, and being suddenly wide awake went off exploring for a bit. Returning to our room Mark got a message that the girl who had taken Greta (the cat) just the day before was freaked out by her and she was no longer willing to keep her. She was our second person to take Greta, as the original person fell through at the last minute. But at half past two in the morning there was nothing to do.

After a restless night, Mark got another message saying that a friend of a friend could take Greta for three weeks, solving the problem for now. We took the noon tour of Galipoli. As Mark is Australian, Galipoli is sort of a pilgramage site. For those of you who are American, and therefore didn't learn about this in school, Galipoli is a peninsula which is at the entrance to the one sea route between the Mediteranean sea and the Black sea. During WWI it was therefore a very strategic point. Brits, French, Australians and New Zealanders attempted to control the penninsula for 8 months before escaping from the Turks. The tour took us accross the dardeneles (the first bit of the waterway) to a resturant with a horrible lunch. Poor people on organized tours never eating good Turkish food! Our tour guide was great though and the bus had airconditioning. We went to the small museum, Anzak cove, where the force originally landed, lots of cemetaries and monuments for various countries, and even got to walk around in the trenches. Although I don't usually like tours there was no way to get to all the sites by public transport, and the guide had lots of stories, and put the places in context instead of it being just another monument.

We had a lovely supper, odd ice cream, and a good walk before sleeping. The next morning, however, we were awoken by beeping - the next place for the cat had fallen through. We were running out of options. We could leave her with a vet for 6 weeks, but she would be in a cage the whole time and crazy by the end. Tramatized by various houses, putting her with another friend wasn't really an option even if we could have thought of someone. Then there were the future problems of what to do with her when we continue to travel, and the torture of the 10 hour flight to america. So we decided to take Greta to her brothers - to be a very scholarly cat at Bogazici University. But I didn't want to let someone else take her. Which is how we found ourselves on an 11am bus back to Istanbul. Arriving at Istanbul at half past five we did a mad dash to galata, picked up a freaked out cat and took her to the university. When we got there we saw Chaucer sitting on a step, and a few minutes later, Hendrix. Both looked happy and healthy, and both remembered us. No longer feeling worried about Greta, and knowing this was the right thing for her, we said our goodbyes and dashed back to the bus station for a night bus to Ayvalik. We arrived at 7am to start the holiday again.

Since then everything has been lovely. We set up our tent in a foresty bit of the town overlooking a bay of the Agean sea, went swimming twice, and visited an island and had amazing seafood. We also went on a long search to find methylated spirits for the camp stove (which we found) and a sleeping pad for me (which we still haven't). It was a bit frusterating, because for the first time in a while I found myself not able to explain what I wanted in Turkish. But in the end we got the idea accross.

Today we took a day trip to Bergama (formerly Pergamom) to visit the amazing acropolis and red basilica. The red basilica in particular is amazing! It was so big that insead of converting it into a church they just built the church inside it. Amazing to think that those towering walls have been standing for over 2,000 years.

UK, moving, and off again!

2010-07-08T19:10:00.002+03:00

After the rest of my Paris experience I went to visit Tom, and his lovely flatmate Derik and girlfriend Roja. We went to see Britain's Got Bhangra, a new musical produced by a friend of mine, which was funny and full of great music. So much so that once we got home Derik was Bhangraing around the flat. I got to see lots of art with Roja, and she taught me how to make some Iranian food. And had lovely beer with Tom at a couple of pubs in his neighborhood, as well as exploring the area where the industrial revolution started, which has since become the first area of urban regeneration in Europe. It's called castlefield, and has a lovely canal (europe's first again) running through and warehouses turned into flats with lovely pubs outside.

After Manchester I took the train to Wales to see Charlie and Tim in Swansea. They now live in a flat with a spare room with a very comfy futon. I arrived a bit sad that I was going to miss the barbeque and pimms that Tom had planned for Sunday, only to discover that Charlie had pimms ready at the flat and had planned a barbeque for Sunday as well. Pimms is an british alcohol mixed with lemonade (sweet fizzy water) and cucumber, peach, lemon, orange, strawberry and mint. It's like fruit salad with alcohol, and I drank a lot of it with Charlie over three days. We also watched Fantastic Mr. Fox (amazing), walked to the Mumbles, had sunday lunch and a barbeque and sat around in pubs. One day I went on the train to Cardiff with Tim where we discovered that the museum was closed, and that while Cardiff has lovely arcades and neon blue ice cream (which we couldn't find) there isn't that much else to do. I also did some walking along the coast of the Gower Peninsula.

Very sad to leave Swansea, I got on the 8:30 evening train to London, arrived at nearly midnight, took the underground to Heathrow, slept on the floor for four hours, checked my bag at 5 am, and got on the plane at 7 to arrive in Istanbul at 2. Mark met me at the airport which was very exciting. And then began about 4 days of packing and crazyness. We didn't do much on the Wednesday, but spent the time until Sunday at 1 in the afternoon packing the house, throwing things out, giving things away, visiting people, making arrangements at the last minute for the cat and thinking we might never leave. But on Sunday at 3pm we arrived at the otogar after putting all our bags in a friend's house and returning the keys to our flat. We were free! And then told the next bus was at 7. But never fear, IKEA was there, and so we ate swedish meatballs and had free refils and cake, as well as testing all of the beds and couches before boarding our bus to Canakkale. The traveling had begun!

food and Paris

2010-06-17T23:30:00.003+03:00

As I spent months planing this trip, waiting for the end of school and counting down the weeks, I never really thought I would be leaving. Only as I waved to Mark out the back window of the taxi Wednesday morning, did I realized I was. After falling asleep on the bus to the airport, confusing the security guys with my camera battery and charger, and getting myself some euros and pounds I was getting on the plane. The exciting part of leaving from the Asian side of Istanbul to fly to Europe is that the plane has to go over the whole city, giving a view that looks remarkably like google maps satellite with a few clouds. With it's 18 million people, Istanbul's size never ceases to amaze me.

Three hours of sleep later, I landed in a city of four million. After Istanbul most cities seem small. Mom and William met me at the airport, and we took two suburban trains and a metro to arrive at the flat. The flat is amazing. I'm staying in the living room, and from my window on the 7th floor I can see a very large TV across the street which is perpetually turned to the world cup, a huge number of chimney pots, and Sacre Cour, one of the famous cathedrals of Paris. William thinks whoever owns the flat spent all their money buying it, and had nothing left to furnish it. It does indeed look like it was furnished from a flea market.

My mom had to finish writing her conference paper for tomorrow (the reason they are in Paris) so William and I left her with coffee and computer and headed out to look at the Hospital St. Louis and a canal. The Hospital St. Louis is where they quarantined plague victims back in the day, and it's still a working hospital with a very nice courtyard with the requisite football game as well as other children playing. The canal connects the Seine to another river some 100 kilometers away. It has 10 locks along the way. We watched one in action as a houseboat went down the lock and entered a tunnel at the very end of the journey to the Seine. We walked quite a way, past tall bridges with lots of stairs, a swinging bridge, a homeless tent settlement, ducklings and a canal boat. Walking back through the neighborhood we are staying in we found Cambodian, Brazilian, Turkish, Arab, Chinese, Thai, French and a multitude of other restaurants, grocery stores, bakeries and butchers. While I love Turkish food, I miss diversity in food in Istanbul.

In keeping with past blog entries, much of my travel is centered around, or at least related to food. And in France, how could it not be. Last night we ate Brazilian food. Today I woke up to fresh baked croissant. A foodgasm to be sure, along with eggs, melon and bacon (pork!!). I realized that while I've spent a good amount of time in France, apart from 24 hours in 2005, the last time I was in France was in 2000 after my Sophomore year in high school. Which happens to be the last time I was on stage in a musical. I had fond memories of French food, but I had forgotten how amazingly good it is.

Today was a very civilized day. William and I visited the Musee d'Orsay, a former train station which has many impressionist paintings and lots of incredible art nouveau furniture. We saw Monet and Manet, Van Gogh, Cezanne, and many other people I can't remember. Fully one third of the paintings feature naked women. And then there is a special exhibit entitled Crime and Punishment. Gory paintings of crime, more of the punishment. And then eye charts, photos of faces and diagrams of sculls trying to identify which physical features where most identified with criminals. A set of measuring tools to measure scull size etc. An actual prison door carved with inmate's names. A good exhibit to see and one I hope I don't see again.

To continue with our day we walked to Saint Germane de Prey, where we had lunch at Cafe Deax Margots, where the famous writers of the left bank drank their coffee. I had salad and wine. Followed by a walk on the Seine in the rain and a trip to a coffee rostery which had over twenty kinds of beans to choose from.

For mother's day William had given mom dinner at the restaurant Le Petit Zinc with one of her children. Luckily she picked me (sensibly too, as Ian is sadly in NC). The restaurant is complete Art Nouveau decoration and absolutely stunning. The food is incredible as well - fish soup, duckling with red fruits, and profiteroles. Paris really is a foodie's heaven.

Off again

2010-06-10T13:16:00.003+03:00

I was asked a few days ago when I was going to update this blog again. I was surprised - I didn't know anyone read it, especially since I haven't posted in about a year and a half. But as I am leaving Istanbul (my home of the past three years) to begin a new adventure, it seemed like a good idea to start writing again.

The plan:
1 week in Paris
1 week in the UK - Manchester and Swansea
7 weeks in Turkey with Mark (the boy) attempting to see as much as possible
4 days back in Istanbul
10 hours on a plane with Mark and Greta (the cat) to NYC
3 days in NYC
5 days in Chapel Hill
16 hours driving a U-Haul with Mark and Greta to Ann Arbor, Michigan

I will then spend then next two and a half years completing two masters degrees - An MPH (masters of public health) in International Health and Epidemiology and an MA in Middle Eastern and North African Studies. Don't worry though, I'm not settling down, just staying in one place for a bit to get a degree which should allow me to be able to travel and work without teaching English.

And now, to pack!

Traveling Mouse

2009-01-12T17:10:00.003+02:00

It has recently come to my attention that it has been over two months since I posted. So first of all, I would like to wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving, merry Christmas, and a happy new year!!

After doing tech for a local production of Cinderella, I was lucky enough to make a friend in the theater world, and now I am working in a theater. It's a bit challenging as it's all in Turkish, but it means that my turkish is improving all the time. I've also moved from the asian side to the european side. It was exactly six months from the time I left this summer until I had my own place. And as much as I love traveling, I realized that every so often it is important to have a room of your own. A kitchen is also a good thing.

Once again I came to Istanbul unemployed and homeless, and once again I have found an amazing life here.

I've started a new project - The Traveling Mouse I'll still be posting ocasional updates, and when I start traveling again I'll be posting more regularly on this website. My new project is travel stories aimed at teenagers, although I hope anyone can enjoy them. There will be a new story every monday. If you have time, let me know what you think.

Election night 2008

2008-11-05T20:08:00.001+02:00

At home with strep throat, I didn’t get to go to an election night party. I started watching CNN at 3:30 pm. However, as the first polls weren’t going to close until 1am Turkish time, which meant that I had a darn long time to watch CNN before anything started to happen. I watched their little backstage bit at least five times, and during the breaks instead of beer ads, watched every board of tourism east of Germany and west of America try to convince me that they had the most beautiful woman, beaches, etc. Either that, or it would be wise of me to get an MBA or go to a leaders conference in Dubai. Lying on pillows on the floor with dogs, I watched, waited, and hoped beyond hope, knowing that I had sent in my absentee ballot a week and a half before from Germany. At 5:30 I decided that Obama was going to win and went to sleep. Had I known that they were going to call it just half an hour later I would have stayed up. As it was, a friend and my mother called and woke me up at 6am to tell me Obama had won. Payback, my mother told me, for all the times I had woken her up to tell her UNC had won. And, as if to prove the two things are important enough to wake someone up over, Franklin Street was rushed after McCain conceded. Basketball and Obama. The two things worth staying up til 5:30 in the morning to watch from abroad. And, lying there with strep throat, as things went Obama’s way, I was much happier to be here now, than four years ago, sitting in the library at 2am with a broken heart, writing a paper the night before it was due, checking the returns online, and having my first fight with my mother in years as we watched the world fall apart wanting to cry.

This time I wanted to cry. For joy

Marathon and Halloween

2008-11-02T14:38:00.002+02:00

Istanbul, Turkey

Since returning to Istanbul, I am mostly just living. However, I no longer have my own place, and so I’ve been staying with various friends. And at this point I think I would like to say thank you to everyone who has put me up, and helped me on my way from the end of the festival to now.

A huge thanks to Rich and Jim, who gave me the gear, advice, and inspiration to hike the west highland way. Thanks to everyone I met on the way, to Daniel, Graeme and Karen for hosting me in Glasgow and showing me how fantastic the city is. To Tom and all his fellow assistant wardens for amazing food and adventures in St. Andrews. To Sarah in Manchester for taking me in at the last minute. To Lou and Olly for also giving me a place to stay at the last minute, for the hugs, and just generally being wonderful. To Charlie and Tiffany, for the awesomeness and fun of sunny Wales, and to Webster, for the birthday party and fold out sofa. But that’s only in the UK! Thanks to Ingo for having the amazing exhibition, to Buck, and amazing CS host, and Marko, for giving me my own space for two days. And in Istanbul, thanks to Hande, Collette, the dogs, Amy, the cats, and Brienne for putting me up so far. You all are absolutely amazing!!

And now after that short break, we return to Istanbul. I was exhausted after my flight here, and didn’t really do anything until Monday, when I went to the Kapili Carsi and the book exchange to visit people. The exception to that was to participate in the Istanbul Marathon on Sunday, October 26. It’s the only marathon in the world that spans two continents, and if you do it properly, it involves running 42 kilometers. There’s also a 15 kilometer fun run. But being much more the walking type than the running type, I participated, along with about 150,000 other Istanbul’lus in the Halk Korsusu, or the people’s course. It was about 6 kilometers from the Altunizade bridge on the Asian side, across the Bosphorus bridge to the European side, and then to just past Besiktas. It’s the one day a year that you can walk on the bridge, which explains why so many people turned up in the pouring rain. Usually, Turks are afraid of the cold and rain, convinced that they are going to get sick. I guess the other motivation was that if you had a number, you got a metal and a t shirt at the end. I didn’t have a number.

I guess the walk across the bridge could have been more amazing had it been clear and sunny so that it was possible to see Ayasofia and all the other historic mosques. And it would have been nice not to be soaking wet, through the three layers I was wearing. It took my shoes nearly three days to dry out. But it was amazing to walk across the bridge, and to look back and see the sea of umbrellas and hooded people being me. Sometimes people would feel inspired and run past, but mostly people just walked. I’ve never seen so many turks in one place before.

The other exciting, or perhaps not so exciting event was Halloween! Turks have not really gotten into Halloween yet, but some of the other foreigners had organized a party in one of the bars in Taksim. So after a three hour meeting (over amazing Thai food) on how we were going to make the pumpkin to carriage transformation for Cinderella, speech bubbles winter panto, we put on our Halloween gear. I had managed to scrape together a witch costume, with a skirt from Hande, a hat from Amy, and some green makeup from Sharon. I also had my own converse, and purple and black striped knee socks. Walking from the Galata tower nearly all the way to Taksim square (a 20 minute walk) I got an incredible number of stares. Some people just looked. Some said something about Halloween. And one girl stopped us and asked if we were going to a Halloween party. She was really excited and wanted to come as well.

There were some good costumes – a guy dressed as a belly dancer, Sarah Palin (she won the costume contest, hopefully the only thing she will win!), Penny from Hairspray, and a storm trooper. Sadly there was no pumpkin carving, but I did make a pumpkin pie instead.

Germany

2008-10-26T14:19:00.003+02:00

Due to technical problems of my computer hating the internet, photos coming soon!

Berlin

Arriving at the bus station with no reservation for a place to stay (no different than usual) I headed to the main train station and attempted to find tourist information. Most things in Berlin and Germany generally seem to be quite well signposted, but in this case I followed the signs for 700 meters, and when I got to where the tourist information should be, there was another batch of signs. The one for tourist information pointed me back 650 meters in the direction I had just come from. Something to work on Berlin, if you want to encourage happy tourists!

I took the u-bahn to the hostel I had stayed at the other two times I was in Berlin, but it was full. And so I spent a very hungry and tired hour on the internet obsessing about hostels, and decided to go with the Mitte backpackers hostel. They had space, it was all good. Dropping my stuff, I tried to wake up, brushed my teeth, went and found food, and for lack of anything else to do, wandered to Ingo's gallery. I hadn't told him that I was stopping by, and when I looked in I saw mostly photos I recognized, but no Ingo. The guy looked at me a bit strangely, and I was going to leave when Ingo came out. It was so nice to see him again. I realized how much I had missed him. I went in, looked around, helped a bit, and got in the way a bit. We took one framed photo and a print to the framer so she could swap out the prints, because the new one was better. We also went to the bindery to pick up the art book that Ingo had made for the exhibition.

After leaving, I wandered about a bit, and when it started pouring went back to the hostel, made some pasta, read some, and then crashed around 10 and slept over 12 hours. Amazing what some sleep can do for you. The next day I wandered about until I was meeting Ingo at 3. We went for amazing sushi and walked through Mitte until we parted ways so he could get ready for the opening at 6. I kept walking, and visited the Maur (wall) park. As you walk through the park on the left side where the wall once was, now there is nothing. It is separeted from the park by a fence, and is clearly still a sort of border area. From one of the plaques I read, perhaps they are keeping it that way as a sort of memorial.

The opening of Ingo's exhibition was the first art opening I had ever been to. When I got there it was still pretty empty, but it seemed that everyone else showed up at once soon after that and Ingo ran around stressed and tryed to talk to everyone. I had a fantastic time. I got to see Thies and Antje, Marko, Jorn and Filiz, as well as meeting Thies and Jorn's cousin, who was a bit crazy, and very funny. He tried to teach me how to say "I love stuffed tigers" in german, as well as other things. After a few hours in the gallery, the celebrations moved to a nearby bar. There was some food, and everyone drank a lot. At the end there was dancing.

The next day I met Thies and Anje for coffee, which turned out to be ice cream. They had just finished their berlin internship, and were leaving for Hamburg to start classes early the next morning. And then I took my things from the hostel to go stay with my lovely couchsurfing host, Buck. He has one of the most amazing, crazy flats that I've been in. As he puts it, it's beautiful, if you like dilapidated beauty, and I do. After talking a bit, we went over to his friends' house, and I stayed while he went to study german. The friends - Adam and Paul took me with them to see a band that some of their other friends play in, called the cowboy killers. It's a banjo guy who also plays kazoo, a guitar and harmonica player, and for that night, a bass. I guess they normally have a washboard player, and a drummer. The guys reminded me of people back in Chapel Hill. A bit funny to go all the way to berlin for american folk. The band was awesome though.

The next day I wandered around Kruzberg, one of the main Turkish neighborhoods in Berlin. I walked into a bakery, and asked for manti in Turkish. The guy looked at me and went off on this long string of german. I tried to explain that I didn't understand, when one of the german turkish guys sitting in the shop, who actually knew Turkish, stepped in, and told me the guy didn't have what I wanted. A little bit further on was a doner shop. So I stopped inside and asked if he spoke Turkish. Of course he said. Every donerci speaks Turkish. So we had a bit of a discussion. He told me he thought obama would be elected and then assasignated. And then he gave me free Baklava.

I finished my wanderings around Kruzberg, and went to the Kruzberg museum, which has a history of all the different groups to live in the area, and of migration to berlin and germany more generally. Returning to the flat I then went off to meet Buck at the karmenoya, where he and his friends were supposed to be having a reading group. Except when I got there I felt a bit out of place because everyone seemed to already know eachother, and I saw no one there that I knew.

Minutes later though, Buck showed up on his bike, with another bike in hand. They had just moved the location of the readinng group to where I had walked from, and so he thought I could ride a bike back. Having not ridden a bike in a city ever, I freaked out a bit, and told him he should go ahead because I would be a bit slow. Once I got on the bike though, it was amazing, although I had a bit of a hard time with the backpeddle breaks. The reading group was fun - much better than any english class I've ever taken.

I left Buck's house on Monday to meet Ingo at Marko's house. Ingo works mostly nights, so after falafel, it was time for him to nap. Later on we visited his friend and got ingredients for a bit of a strange dinner - mashed potatoes, hot dogs, guacamole, and pickles. It was fantastic though. We topped it off by watching the new indiana jones film and sharing a pint of hagan daaz tiramisu ice cream.

After breakfast the next day (I miss breakfast with Ingo!), Ingo departed for his parents, and I spent the next two days enjoying the solitude of Marko's flat and not going out. Thursday was my last day in Berlin, and I met Filiz, and at a wonderful lunch at her flat that she had cooked for me, before walking along the canal and visiting the swans. I also got to have coffee with Sarah (on a grand to do her dissertation research) and Ben, before heading back to have dinner with Marko, hear about his trip to paris, and then fly to Istanbul.

My flight left at 3am, but for some reason they thought I needed to be there two hours ahead of time. It was the only flight leaving at that time, and we all just sat around in the waiting place. The flight was very empty - I got an entire row to myself. Somehow, the budget airline fed us breakfast, and then I got to lye down for an hours sleep. I woke up for the landing, which made the whole extreme red eye flight seem worth it. It was perfectly clear, and still dark as we flew over Istanbul, and I could see all of the bosphorus, the bridges, Kadikoy harbor, and everything else. I felt like I was looking at a map. What a beautiful sight.

Sadly, it took me two and a half hours on the bus to get from the airport to Kadikoy, just as long as my entire flight from Germany to Turkey. I was back.

Tea, scones, and a long bus ride

2008-10-25T23:28:00.004+03:00

London

I woke up late, and Pi the cat showed me to Webster's room. After a bit of waking up time, we took the train to richmond, to the tea house, called the tea box, where webster works. Yes it was his day off, but we went there anyways. It's a really cute place, with a green theme, chandaleers and cool wooden tables. And I had my first proper tea the meal, although perhaps a bit early to really be tea the meal. Green tea, a ham and camembert sandwich, followed by more tea, a blueberry scone with lots of cream, and half a brownie. All of this was eaten very slowly over maybe three hours in a proper tea house like maner.

After concluding we couldn't eat or drink one more thing, we returned to Webster's house, and Webster's dad attempted to solve the puzzle of why my computer wouldn't connect to the internet. It turned out to be an unsolvable puzzle. Later that night I took what should have been two tube trains and ended up as four to liverpool street station to meet nick (another awesome c venues person). Concluding rapidly that there was nowhere to go at liverpool street station, we headed back to the tube to camden town, home to many more pubs, as well as shops, and in my opinion, a much cooler place. Apparently there was a major fire recently, but it was dark and I couldn't really tell. We had some beer, and talked about c venues, life, the universe, everything. It was really great to see him again.

My return to kew only took two trains. The next morning I got up early to see Webster off to work, hung about, packed my bag, printed my ticket, and then once again took everything on the tube, and lugged it to Victoria Coach Station. This time, not for a megabus, but a eurolines bus (gray with no markings) to Berlin.

And so began the 21 hour journey to Berlin. I was sitting next to a german woman with purple hair who spoke very little english. Getting out of london took forever and a half, and then we continued on to dover. There was some confusion about which lane we should be in, and our diver had to back the bus about 500ft, out of the lane he was in. At which point the other driving jumped out, and stood in traffic with his hand out, trying to get all the semi-trucks to stop so that the bus could merge. In Turkish style everyone on the bus stood up to watch and perhaps offer advice, and it was all I could do not to burst out laughing. We then waited in this line for a bit as the boat docked and the other cars drove off. And then we all did burst out laughing, as the woman telling cars to go had to walk up to a van and wake up the driver who had fallen asleep. The woman looked a bit startled, confused, and a bit embarassed. I hope she didn't realize she had an entire bus watching her.

The boat ride took a bit over an hour, and as we were still in the UK, dover was covered in mist. The white cliffs at dover are very impressive though. And standing on the top deck I realized that I had been on the ferry from Dover to Calais once before, and that it had been 10 years ago. 10 years!! It made me feel old. I stood outside on deck most of the time to avoid being sick, and as the boat approached calais reboarded the bus. It was nearly dark by this time, and everyone started trying to sleep. At lille I got my own seat, and sometime later in the night the seat accross from me emptied and I could put my feet on it and lay down more or less. We stopped about two hours outside of berlin so our drivers could have breakfast, and then we were in Berlin. All things considered, I think I slept more than I usually do on buses.

Sunny Wales

2008-10-25T22:23:00.005+03:00

Swansea, Wales

I was determined to get to the borough market before I left london, and so Saturday I packed and went with lou, olly, and all my stuff including wheely suitcase to the market. It's a food lovers dream. For lunch I had a wild boar sausage with cranberry sauce, greens and mustard - absolutely amazing. It's like a super gourmet farmer's market with lots of jams, olives, meats, baked goods, fish, vegetables, you know, a market, except that it's in a nice area of london. And suitcase in market - not a good idea.

After not much time in the market, I had to say goodbye to lou and olly, and headed off to victoria coach station once again to catch the megabus to cardiff, and from there walked accross the center to get a bus to Swansea. I guess the bus area is not in the nicest part of town, and it was a bit empty when I walked out in search of charlie. I soon found her and we did that running to each other thing that happens in the movies. And then we walked to her house, and up the hill, or as I am told, mountain.

After being fed and meeting her sister, we headed out to meet some of Charlie's friends and go to a ska/punk/regee gig. I hadn't really been properly out to a show in a long time. Yes there was music at the fringe, but somehow that seems a bit different. The second ska band and the american guy playing regee were the best. Beer was served in plastic cups, which was confusing, as when you squeezed the cup, the beer spilt, and by the end everyone was dancing. I felt like I fit in fairly well with my blue hair. After the music finished we went to another bar with lots of girls in very short skirts trying to get the attention of guys that didn't look so impressive, and then went home. We were all hungry, and so Charlie's roommate Mali, who works as a chef at TGIfridays all day, made us pasta with cheese and egg. Never has pasta been so good.

Sunday Charlie had to work, and so Tiffany, the other roommate, photographer, and girlfriend of Mali and I went to the three cliffs on the gower peninsula. Tiffany is french, and has a french car, and so while it seemed much more normal not to be sitting in what is usually the drivers seat, it meant that she was sitting on the outside of the road as she drove and not the inside. She warned me that it had been a while since she had driven on the left, but there were no issues, and we arrived safely.

I was really excited to see the gower peninsula, because Rich's story from "Driving Helicopter Syle" was about going to the gower peninsula with his family. Granted he went to rosili and the worms head, but it was still the gower peninsula, and the weather was amazing - not a cloud in the sky. I remember one line from his story distincly - "and if it was a sunny day, and i'm told that there are sometimes sunny days in southern wales..."

The walk to the three cliffs was nice, and once we got there it was absolutely beautiful. We sat on the beach to eat lunch and watched the rock climbers, and
then walked to the end of the beach. The tide was coming in by this point, and we had to walk through a gap in the rock as the water was getting deeper and deeper. By the time we got through the water was past my knees.

On the way back to the car we picked brambles, not enough for a pie, but enough for a brambly apple crumble. We got back just before charlie, and hung about in the house. Adam, Charle's boyfriend and another friend showed up and we had dinner and my first attempt at a crumble. The top was good and everyone liked it, but for some reason the fruit didn't cook.

The plan was to have a bondfire on the beach, and so eventually we drug ourselves out of the house (okay, so I may have pushed a little). After finding firewood on the beach, and Adam dragging up an entire tree trunk, we attempted to make a fire. And attempted. And attempted. And used up all of the newspaper, then all of the scraps of paper we could glean from our bags and wallets, and then finally the lighter died. The answer from the welsh was firestarters for next time. On the way back Charlie gave me a tour of the rest of swansea by night, visiting the bar where she works on the way.

My last day in Wales I visited Charlie on her lunch hour, and we had the amazing brittish version of the baked potato in memory of the kupir we shared in istanbul. This potato had beans, butter, and loads of cheese. Welsh cheese. We sat in castle square, and then charlie got me welsh cakes. Fresh welsh cakes with sugar. I will dream about them for months to come. Returning to get my stuff I took the bus back to cardiff and then the megabus back to london, arriving at 7. Then there was the tube to hammersmith, where I found Webster and his friend Jake.

And this was the reason I had returned to London - to help Webster celebrate his birthday (part I). We went to an indian resturant, I met lots of his friends, was offered a civil partnership so I could get a visa to stay in the country and had amazing food. This was followed by a bar and then with my suitcase to webster's family's fold out couch.

London

2008-10-24T20:33:00.014+03:00

London

Olly and Lou's spare room reminds me of a cave. The bed is in a nook, and it's incredibly dark with the curtains shut, which means it's an incredible place for sleeping. Saturday morning I slept really late, and then lou and olly made a traditional english breakfast, complete with the baked beans. Yum! I spent most of the day sitting in their living room, learning how to use the program picassa and downloading my photos. In the evening Olly went out to meet Tammy, Lou went to see a possible show for next year at C Venues with Andrea, and I wandered the south bank, walked accross the thames twice, and distracted in a book store. The amazing thing about the UK, is that the books are all in English, meaning that I can read whatever I want when I go into a book store.

After their show was finished I met Lou and Andrea in the bar of the BFI, or Brittish Film Institute. It's a pretty happening place, with velvet arm chairs and lots of well dressed people. John soon joined us, and we had a great remeniss about C Venues. Later we met Tammy and Olly, and just got to this amazing Japanese resturant before they stopped serving. It's the only japanese resturant that I've been to that doesn't have sushi. I put my ordering power with the others, and we shared everything, including really good rice, quail, chicken, lamb chops, amazing egg plant, bacon and asparagus, and lots of edame. It was an absolutely amazing meal, and the food was also incredibly cute. It's a good thing that the trains to clapham junction run later than that tube, because we didn't get back to their flat until after 1.

Sunday, in typical brittish fasion, was a rainy day, perfect for hanging about and going to museums. We had breakfast together again (of the less cooked variety), and after some a pep talk about the need to get out into the world, I headed out into the world. I went to the free museums near prince albert hall, spending most of my time in the science museum, although I did pop into the natural history museum. As one who reads every bit of every exhibit (something that really annoys some people), it took me a long time to get through two exhibits. The main one I looked at was a history of steam power and the steam engine. They had collected old steam engines, bits of old machines, and each stage also had a computer terminal with animations of the workings of the engines and information about the key players. It was absolutely facinating! The other exhibit I visited was a history of plastic, which was also pretty darn cool. Further proof that I am a true nerd. That evening I helped Lou make curry, and rediscovered how fantastic a vegitable the parsnip is.

I woke up in the morning to sunshine! and remembering William's photos of Kew gardens, thought I would try to see them. With a week travel card (an amazing deal if you are going to be in london for a week!!) that was only good for zones 1 and 2, and not realizing i could top it up to go to zone 3 (you can top it up) I got off at the last stop in zone 2, and started in my way. I walked through the center of Chiswick, and then through a very boring stretch, before I crossed the river, and entered Kew. I think the best word that can possibly describe Kew is cute. It's extremely cute. The tracks for the underground, which at this point goes overground sort of splits the small center into two.

I did find the gardens, but at 13 pounds for entrance, with only two hours remaining, and no flowers at this time of year, I decided it wasn't worth it, and being the daughter of a historian, did what any logical person would do, I decided to check out the national archives. When I got there I was given a packet about how to go about conducting research if I wanted to. Instead, I checked out their museum. I found it really interesting - the importance of the archives and documents. Especially interesting were the exhibits on who gets to see what documents and how that changes politics, society, etc. In addition, the museum hosts the doomsday book, a land survey from the 10th century. I think it's the oldest book found from the UK. Just shows the importance of geography - the oldest book from brittian is about place.

Leaving the national archives I took the thames path along the south bank of the river. It runs through the forst, making it seem really hard to believe you are in a major world city. It seems as if you are in the middle of nowhere. I walked all the way to hammersmith, crossed the bridge, and took the tube home to have Olly's pasta and sauce for dinner, followed by watching stardust. Or maybe we watched that sunday. Things run together when you're having fun.

Tuesday I decided to return to the science and natural history museums. I went on a guided tour of the botany bits of the museum, which included behind a the scenes look at where they press and store all of the plant samples that come in. Back in the science museum, I visited some other exhibits. In the evening I ended up once again
meeting Lou, Andrea and John for the Royal National Opera's production of Swan Lake. We were in the upper stalls at the side on the top, which meant that we couldn't see the back drops or a bit of the action on stage left, but it was still a fantastic performance, and the music was wonderful. It's such a good show for the oboe.

Wednesday was the most beautiful day so far, and I walked the south bank, and basically went nuts with my camera. The clouds were perfect, the sky was amazing, the views were fantastic, there were lots of art students out working on projects, and two guys were making living rooms out of sand on the beach. One was just finishing as I got there, and he was sitting on his sand couch watching his sand tv, and hoping that people would toss some money down to him.

I walked all the way to St. Pauls, but I got there just as it was closing for mass, so didn't go inside. Instead, I went to the nearby tourist information, and asked likely one of the wierder questions that they get - do you know where I could buy corn tortillas? The guys had no idea, but said that there were some latino stores in the elephant and castle shopping center, so I headed there to have a look.

There were no corn tortillas in the elephant and castle shopping center. The shopping center is a mall that has fallen from popularity. The top floor is bingo. On the ground floor is Tesco, Iceland (a very discount supermarket) and Boots. There are lots of other random stores, and one latin american deli sort of place. The area outside is full of stalls selling clothing and random other stuff, with a few food stalls as well.

Giving up, I went home to make enchiladas with flour tortillas. Webster came over for dinner as well, and much fun was had by all. The four of us managed to finish off two trays of enchiladas and four avicados worth of guacamole. I also had my first amaretto, which unlike most alcohol tastes just as it smells.

Thursday I decided was my day to visit Greenwich. After attempting to do some cleaning in the kitchen, which was a bit of a disaster from my cooking the night before, I headed out late. I also wanted to visit the docklands, as they are supposed to have canals, and also have changed a huge amount in the past 10 or 20 years. So I took the Docklands Light Rail (DLR) for a tour of the docklands on my way to Greenwich. They had a reputation for being run down, but now it's all tall buildings, posh stores and offices. The canals are pretty, but it may be the area of London that is most changed. Not interested enough to stop I headed all the way to Greenwich. The area is cute, and after a bit of walking I found the park where the observatory is.

I went first into one side, but really wanted to visit the side with the prime meridian, and so went back to the center, at which point I was told it was 4:31, and that we had past last enterance time. They wouldn't let be back into the area from which I had just come either, which was very annoying. And so I did not get to see the prime meridian as it goes through the royal observatory. But the park was really nice, and the view from the top of the hill was fantastic.

I walked a bit more in Greenwich, took the pedestrian tunnel under the Thames, and then headed to north london for dinner with Rashmi and Subir. They live on the same road as they did when I visited them nearly four years ago, but in a different flat, which they own. Apparently the view is fantastic during the day, but it was night. Subir had made a chicken dish and a vegetable dish, the names of which I have forgotten, but they were both amazing. We talked about chapel hill, and politics, and watched some BBC, which was my first TV news in a long time. They said they were thinking about getting online booking for their spare room, as it was in such high demand. I told them next time I was back I would go to their site and book a few days. Going back to south london I learned how to top up my oyster card, before begining the long journey back.

For my last day at Lou and Olly's I actually woke up at a decent hour, so that I could go with lou to the c venues office to help for the day. My job for the day was to read through all of the duty logs, and to see which companies overran their time slots, and by how much. Not the most exciting of things, but it was nice to do some work, and be back in the c venues world for a day. And that evening lou and olly went out, and I visited the fresh and wild store - really whole foods, where you can get corn tortillas, refried beans, and north carolina salsa. I got a frozen burrito and some ben and jerry's, and ate it while watching Dirty Dancing and Singing in the Rain. Fantastic.

Going south

2008-10-20T00:29:00.008+03:00

Glasgow and Manchester

From St. Andrews I headed back to Glasgow. Daniel was packing to return to the US and Sandra was off on holiday. Highlights included the glasgow green, the lighthouse, fajitas and more sucessful brownies with Graeme. And walking and walking down by the river on my own.

I left Glasgow Wednesday for Manchester with the lovely MegaBus. If you haven't heard of megabus, it works similarly to the budget airlines. The first ticket is one pound, and after that they go up from there depending on demand. So, especially if you can plan a bit ahead, it's a great way to travel cheap. And I hear it's already begun in the US. I arrived in Manchester around 4, and wasn't meeting Sarah, a friend from the festival until 10, so I had a lot of time to do something with. None of the guys from the bus station dressed in their neon yellow high vis could actually were from manchester, but they did tell me that there was no left luggage in this bus station. So I followed the signs to tourist information. They told me that there was supposedly left luggage at the train station, and that there was a free bus to get there. They also did what tourist information does best and gave me a free map. The woman proceeded to circle almost everything on it as a point of interest, especially cicling the northern quarter - known for it's artsy nature. Perhaps it was the blue hair.

The bus to the train station was packed, and I kept having to get off with my bag to let people out. The first time, the driver didn't seem to realize that I wanted to get back on and almost drove off without me. I did find the left luggage, and was thrilled to be rid of my bag, although I was still carrying my pack with laptop. Following the advice of the tourist information lady, I headed to the northern quarter, which was very cool, but sadly, it also started to rain. I went to a cafe, had tea, and hid for a couple of hours. By the time I left the cafe it had stoped raining, but I still had a few more hours. I walked in the direction with the most people, and soon found a tesco. Buying a bagel, I proceeded back into the street, and, feeling rather homeless I squatted next to a building and made myself a cheese sandwhich bagel. Just when I had finished a woman came up to me and asked me where I had gotten it as it looked good and she wanted one. Should go into business.

My wanderings led me to the nightlife area, a very disnified passage, and a large wheel. Apparently an IRA bomb went off in this area, destroying buildings, but injuring no one, and so they have been able to redesign the area. I met up with Sarah a bit later, and we took the bus to her flat. She had been at the greyhound races, and had won 10 pounds. We had time for a short reminiss about c venues, and then it was time for sleep. In the morning she went off to work and I went back to the center of Manchester feeling just a tad worried about my complete lack of plan.

I had been hoping to stay with a friend of Tom's on her canal boat, but it seems that this was not to work out. I visited the library where I did the large amount of paperwork necessary to secure my absentee ballot (as north carolina is now a swing state!) and then visited a rather old and famous library, which looked exactly how a proper library should look in my mind. Or, at least definetly how I expect the library at hogwarts looked. And it's still in use for the university. I bought a bus ticket to london, wandered around more, and called Olly who told me it would be fine if I stayed with them tonight, at the very last minute. Returning to the train station I got my luggage exactly 24 hours after I put it in, returned to the bus, or rather coach station, and took my second megabus in two days.

London was another five hours, and then it was two stops on the local train to clapham junction. It was fantastic to see lou and olly again. It was going to be my first time having a bed in a room to myself in weeks, to have some space. And Lou and Olly are amazing. I got there at the end of a dinner party, and after giving them my bottle of wine with the prettiest label, I sat down, was given risotto, and was so happy that I wanted to cry.

Pi(e) and dumplings

2008-10-17T14:40:00.008+03:00

St. Andrews

After all the excitement in Glasgow, I headed back to Edinburgh for a day to return the camping gear that I now think of as mine, and to be reunited with my computer and suitcase. It was great to see Rich again as well. I put all my photos on the computer, which caused my camera battery to die twice, and got to sleep in a proper bed in a room to myself, a rare occurance.

The next evening I took the bus to St. Andrews and was met at the bus station by Tom and his friend Vikash. As I have hosted two guys named Tom on couchsurfing, let me clarify. This is not the cycling Tom currently in Iran, but the one who is now back from Iran and studying Iranian history at St. Andrews. Not only is he studying, he is an RA, or as they call themselves, assistant warden. Which means that he and five others take turns being on duty and dealing with fire alarms and drunk first years in the dorm. But instead of having to live in a dorm room, they get flats in the dorms. As he visited me twice in Istanbul, I thought it was only fair that I called on him in St. Andrews. St. Andrews is known for two things - the university, and GOLF. Golf being the more important of the two. In the middle ages they had to ban golf as it was getting in the way of the far more important archery practice. In addition to many golf courses, there is a ruined castle and a ruined cathedral.

I spent five nights in St. Andrews, all of which was amazing. I think the most amazing bit was the last day, where Tom and I went out in search of wild blackberries, or brambles, as it is scotland. We walked to the trailer park, and after hopping over the fence found many. We had not thought beyond finding the brambles however, and hadn't brought a sack. So in a feat of amazing engineering which has not been repeated since, I managed to take off the bottom of four layers without exposing myself. The bottom layer was black so I was hoping it wouldn't stain. With my shirt tied up as a sack, we proceeded to completely fill it with brambles in a short time, and only a few scratches. My hands, however, had turned completely purple.

Tom had to return home, but I wandered around town, and then had the most scary tesco (a grocery store) experience of my life. Back in Tom's flat I stressed about finding a circular pan to make my bramble pie, before realizing that this could be a square, and therefore very nerdy pie. Instead of making the traditional lattice I wrote, perhaps at Tom's suggestion, Pi(character) r squared(character) on the top. Because as we all know after taking geometry, pies are no longer round, pies are square.

After finishing the pie I helped Tom's flatmate Yaning finish making the 200 or so dumplings that she was making. The other assistant wardens came over and we sat on pillows (bits of my bed really) on the floor of Yaning's room and ate dumplings until we couldn't move. And then we ate more. Sometime later the pie was done, and Katy and I decided that it needed cream. So we walked to Tesco for a much less scary tesco experience to get cream and custard. And it was a really good pie.

Other highlights include yet another freshers week. Because I was hanging out with all postgrads, they are a little bit more classy than freshers, and so I went to several receptions with free wine, which was exciting. I also went to Katy's birthday party, where she had a giant fudge doughnut we had picked up earlier as a birthday cake. It was amazing. St. Andrews in general is a quite foody town. There is an amazing cheese shop, several delis and bakeries, a butcher, and did I mention the amazing cheese shop? The brittish do make some amazing cheeses.

Then there was the night when Tom, Vikash and I went to the beach with a mostly full bottle of whisky. Let me share this advice - never drink (accidentally or on purpose) more than a brittish male, especially a former rugby player. It did end up that a guy from northern cyprus came along the beach with two friends, and we had a very strange conversation in Turkish.

Most of what I did in St. Andrews looking back was talk, discuss politics, eat good food, drink wine, walk, and hang out. A very good life indeed.

Return to Civilization

2008-10-16T19:09:00.006+03:00

Glasgow

The next morning I woke up absurdly early, found myself once again on the school bus, spent an hour in a coffee shop in portree eating a breakfast scone, and then boarded the 7 hour bus back to Glasgow. Part of the trip followed the way, and it was a bit depressing to drive a bit that had taken me a day to walk in half an hour. And a guy sat down next to me, and it took me a few minutes to recognize him as someone who had stayed in my hostel in Fort William. It's a very small world.

Back in Glasgow, I met up with Daniel, the guy from Tenessee that I had met on the walk. He had returned a few hours earlier from Inverness. I got a real shower with a real towel and real shampoo and it was amazing. We had the rest of my cheese and salsa, and then Daniel's roommates showed up - Graeme and Sandra. Graeme is from Scotland and is studying audio visual engineering at Glasgow Uni. Sandra is from Germany and is an architect. Later some of their friends showed up and it turned into a party. I spent the night on my first couch since the end of the festival - very comfy, in a lovely red nook behind the table in the kitchen. It was a bit on the short side though.

I hung out there all the next day, enjoying being inside and having electricity. That evening I walked accross Kelvingrove park to stay with Karen, whom I know through the festival. It was the end of freshers week at Glasgow, and so Stag (Student Theatre at Glasgow) was putting on a showcase to entice first year students. A note on this freshers week thing - in the UK, when people go to uni, at least 95% of them are 18 or over, meaning that they can legally drink. And so there is a week before classes begin where first years (freshers) move into the halls and then have lots of university sponsored orientation events, and get horribly drunk. Something we US freshman completely missed out on due to stupid alcohol rules.

Anyways, the showcase was fantastic and I got to see more people from the festival and got invited to the party they were having the next night. And people tried to talk me into staying to perform in the first show of the season.

Saturday, I visited the Kelvingrove museum in the morning. The building is amazing - it looks like a cathedral - but apparently was built for an event like the worlds fair. I focused mainly on the exhibits relating to scotland. The most interesting was about Charles Rene Mackintosh, who designed a huge number of buildings in Glasgow, specializing in tea rooms. I think he is most remembered for his distinctive chairs. Then I met up with Karen and I walked to Byers road - one of the shopping streets of the west end. I continued a wander into town while she returned home to do work. The party that night was great - with a theme of 1999 and lots of decorations to match. Theatre parties everywhere seem to be fairly similar. Perhaps a bit drunk, I discovered the wonder that is chips and korma sauce.

Discovering once again that a lot of cheap wine isn't good for one's head I was a bit slow in the morning, then walked into town and to the cathedral. The cathedral was nothing spectacular, but the cathedral museum, St. Mungo's had an absolutely fantastic photography exhibition on of iraqui refugees in Syria and then in Glasgow. I stood there at the end in tears, and really wished they had a catologue of the exhibition.

Having heard about the huge cemetary called the necropolis, I walked up to the gate as a large group of people were standing there. A woman asked me if I wanted a tour and so I said yes. 2 hours later I had walked all over the cemetary, and knew more about the people burried there and the symbolism of different head stones than I would have thought possible. The guides, with their very dry glaswegian humor, were great.

I returned to Karen's and then crossed Kelvingrove park again to stay with Graeme. Both Daniel and Sandra had gone to Germany. We visited an amazing tea shop just behind their flat and then wandered the west end. And I concluded that I really like Glasgow.

Adventures in Skye

2008-10-07T13:58:00.012+03:00

Portree, Uig, Dunvegan

When I woke up the next morning, the rain had stopped and the cow was still mooing. I packed up my stuff, headed back to the road, and watched the bus to portree drive past me as I walked to the bus stop. Turns out that if I had stuck my hand out the bus would likely have stopped because it's a rural road, but I didn't know that. So I walked to the visitors center for the castle I had passed the day before, asked the guy in the garden shop lots of questions, and sat out front waiting for the bus.

I took the bus to broadford, with the intention of exploring. It had not yet sunk in how tiny all of the places in Skye are. I was dropped off in front of the co-operative grocery store, and bought supplies. And then I had a quick walk around, and realized there was nothing to see here, and that I would be best continuing to Portree. So I got on the next bus, but didn't have enough money. I was going to wait for the next bus, but the driver took all the change I had and told me to get on. Then, when I got off the bus he handed me a ticket and change. I gave him a funny look and he said he had just put me into the system as getting onto the bus at a later point on the route. And so he was giving me change! It was one of those moments that reaffirmed for me the kindness of strangers.

Portree is nice enough, although their main square has been turned into the island bus station. The town is very cute, and full of cute shops and resturants. I visited the Skye Batik store, where they told me to put my pack down and handed me coffee. Reading the information sheet, skye batiks had originally been produced in skye, but because it took so long for things to dry, people were buying their batiked items wet and taking them home to dry. So they moved the opperation to Sri Lanka. Being a good world citizen, I wanted to make sure they treated their workers okay. I asked, and the guy told me it was his wife and her family working. "I wanted to exploit them" he joked, "but my wife wouldn't let me." Probably makes for happier workers if they get to sit in the sun, than working with fabric that refuses to dry in skye.

I wandered down to the harbor, where one couple was fishing, and wandered around the rest of the place. And then got on the 3:30 bus to Uig (apparently pronounced ooig). The first stop was the Portree High School, where I discovered that although this bus was public transport on the surface, it was actually a school bus. It was soon filled with uniformed kids aged 12 to 16 or 17, and, sitting there with my big backpack, my now green hair tied up in a scarf, I was something to be ignored. Evesdropping on their conversations, it made me glad to have finished high school.

I ended up getting off the bus at the Quaraing. The lady at the batik shop told me it had an amazing view, so once again I found myself hiking up a large hill with my heavy pack. The view was indeed amazing, although it would have been better if it was less misty. I thought that scotland in general was a green place, but Skye can make there rest of scotland look practically brown. As I was standing at the top pondering the walk down, an older man walked down from the ridge to where I was standing, and asked me if I'd like a lift down to the road. The same woman in the batik store had told me that hitchhiking was an acceptable method of transit on skye, especially on roads where buses did not run, so I accepted his offer. He told me that he had walked to the Quaraing. Apparently it's actually a rock formation, inside of which is absolutely flat. I couldn't have walked it that day, however, because by the time I was on the ridge, it had been covered in fog. He and his wife were English, but came up to Skye every year for holiday. He also told me that the cattle auction had started the day before, and most calves were being sold. The reason for the all night mooing suddenly became very clear - this mother had lost her child.

Back down at the bottom I waited for the last bus of the day. While I waited I went down to the sea side, and was passed by a group of cattle. Back on the road, I watched as this group of cattle ran up and down the road, followed by guys in small farm vehicles. After about the fourth time, I asked one guy if this was cow exercise day. No, he told me. We're separating out the mothers from the young. They had already put one calf in a separate pen, and it's running mother kept trying to escape the group to go to her calf.

It turns out the bus I was waiting for was only going to go half of the remaining distance to uig before it stopped for the night, but the driver did let me on, and then I stood by the road and watched as he parked his bus and went home. With no good camping area nearby, I did something that will frighten my mother, and stuck out my thumb. After about 20 minutes a car stopped. The guy told me eventually he would be going to uig, but he was taking the long way. A minute later another car stopped. It was a german couple, also going to uig. They rearranged their stuff, and managed to fit me into the car.

I asked the guy if he had trouble driving on the left, and he said now. Not that it was a problem on this particular road, as it was a single track road. His wife was on sheep spotting duty though, and kept yelling sheep, sheep. She was a doctor and he was an engineer, and they had hired a car to explore scotland for a couple weeks. As we came to the west side of the island, the sunset was absolutely spectacular, and so they pulled over to take photos. They drove me all the way to the camping site at uig, I thanked them, and then they sped off to find a B and B.

The camp site wasn't exciting. Uig wasn't exciting. It was getting dark, and I set up my tent, made dinner, and then visited the pub, which like the pub the day before, was empty. Determined to find some life I walked past the pier where the ferries to the outer hebridies depart from, and back toward the main road to portree. The only sign of life I found was two boy playing with a ball in the middle of the road. I turned around, went back to my tent, and slept.

Waking up to another cloudy but dry day, I visited the Skye brewery, tried this drink called kyte, which is microbrewed ginger beer with 1% alcohol. Mine was also made with tayberries, so it was tayberry kyte. And then I caught the bus back to Portree. My plan was to go to Dunvegan, but there wasn't a bus for three hours, which would have put me in Dunvegan too late to see anything. And so I tried the hitchhiking thing. Walking to the edge of town, standing next to the post office, I waited. But everyone kept pointing to the post office. I found out later that I could have gotten a lift with a postman if I had asked. But I didn't know.

And so I started walking. Half an hour later, a car with two old men stopped and offered me a lift. They had seen me walking when they drove into town as well. The guy who was driving, told me that he is a crofter with 80 cattle and 200 sheep. His friend works as the gardener for a hotel out in the middle of nowhere, and so the guy takes his friend into town once a week so he can buy groceries. He told me how there used to be grocery vans. One company would come by on a monday, another on a wednesday and another on a friday. Nowdays, he doesn't even bother to milk his cows anymore, he just buys milk at the grocery store. And people don't want to live in the country anymore. They are going to build lots of new council houses up at portree. People want to live in town.

He let me off on the road to Dunvegan, and I tried my luck one last time. 20 minutes later a car came toward me and stopped. I was a bit confused, until they explained to me that they were going to Dunvegan, but there had been a police car behind them and they couldn't stop. So they had turned around to come back and get me. I got to sit in the back with my pack and their very friendly black lab named Jake. They were surprised to see me hitchhiking, saying that when they were young they had done it all the time but now things were different. I said that I had been told it was okay on Skye, but wouldn't do it anywhere else. The woman had been in the brittish equivalent of the peace corps, and they both had some good stories. They gave me a ride all the way to Dunvegan, showed me the campsite, and then let me off in the center of town.

At tourist information the woman advised me not to wild camp, and so I walked back the direction I had just been, to the campsite, put up my tent in the wind, and walked back into town to have a look at the castle. The castle at Dunvegan is the McLeod clan's. It looks impressive from the outside, but sadly, they redecorated at the end of the 18th century, and the inside is a bit too frilly for my taste. The history bit was interesting, and the gardens were very nice. And it was my first castle of this journey, so it seemed about time, as I had been in scotland over two months. And I had a camera epifany in the gardens.

Checking in both pubs, I came to the conclusion that perhaps bars are alive during weekends on Skye, but every pub is empty during weekdays. I returned to my tent, cooked my emergency ramen noodles, chatted to the guy running the campsite, who turned out to be a postman. He told me there used to be postbuses on Skye, but they had decomissioned the last one this summer. And then I spent my last night in the tent.

Difficulties with Laundry

2008-10-06T22:02:00.008+03:00

Fort William to Skye

I have to say, fort william isn't a very exciting place. And they don't have a launderette. The largest town in the highlands (second to inverness, the only city in the highlands) and they don't have a launderette. I got in a bit too late to do my laundry the night before, but thought I'd be able to do it on my own the next day. And so my washing hunt began.

I checked out of the hostel, had more cheese and salsa sandwiches, wandered around a bit, and went into the big hotel to ask if they had ideas on where to do my washing. They said there was a launderette in the next village up, but it was closed onsundays. But there was a hotel three miles the other direction that had a laundry room, yes she had used it and was sure I could use it.

She gave me the wrong time for the bus out there, and I just missed it, and thinking I was going to malaig and maybe sky today, I wanted to get on with things, and not wait another two hours for the bus with a trash bag full of my very smelly clothes. So I found a taxi to this hotel. I paid the guy a very large amount of money, got out of the cab, went into the hotel, and the guy said, yes we have a laundry room, but all of our dryers are broken. At this point I wanted to cry, but the sun had managed to come out, and so I sat outside reading for an hour waiting for the bus to take me back.

At this point I found internet somewhere, and did a futile search for launderettes anywhere near malaig. None. And so I came to the logical conclusion, about four hours and 10 pounds on transport too late. I could stay at my hostel for another night, and do washing. And so I sheepishly checked back in, then went out, now too late for anything to be open, I got the most amazing scone, and as the place was closing, sat on a bench, eating my scone from a Styrofoam box, writing and trying to make sense of my life.

A couple came up to me, wanting to know where I got my food. It's that way, I told them, but it's closed now. As was everything else on the street. But they found food somewhere, and returned to the bench next to mine, to eatchinese, and give their dog water. They were headed to inverness.

My clothes actually got clean! There's nothing so good as burying your face in freshly washed and tumbled dry laundry, still warm. I ate canned tesco soup, watched brave heart, went out for half an hour to hear music in the local pub, and then collapsed into my bed.

Once again having to leave the hostel by 10, I had more salsa and cheese sandwiches (see a pattern?) and then went to the train station. The train that was leaving formalaig was the Jacobite express, pulled by a steam locomotive. Similar rolling stock was used for the filming of harry potter, and they filmed it on this very bit of railroad. The company has used it as an excuse to make it's prices way high, and so I settled for photographing the train as it left, and then taking the next train on the same track.

The steam engine was so cool!! As it pulled out, I took a photo every second. For a train nerd, it would make a super cool flipbook. And the ride itself was absolutely amazing. A conductor kept telling the group of older people near me about the landmarks along the way, and so Ieavesdropped and saw the viaduct that features in harry potter. This is one of those railways that doesn't go along the road, but
instead goes straight through the mountains, ending inmalaig. It's also called the road to the isles.

I spent all of 15 minutes in Malaig before deciding it wasn't exciting and that I should get on the boat for skye that was about to depart. And what do you know, but it started to rain. After ditching my pack inside, I stuck my camera underneath my raincoat, and headed to the top deck. It was very misty, but clear enough to be able to see the outline of land in front of us.

As the boat was landing I returned inside to put my camera away. I set it on the seat next to me and then heard a woman ask "bubenim fotograf makinesim mi?" ("is that my camera" in Turkish) "benim" ("mine") I automatically answered. She had a bit of difficulty comprehending, and so asked in English.I once again aswered in Turkish. She and her husband were from Izmir, and in scotland visiting their son and his girlfriend who live in Aberdeen. The son is an engineer working with BP. We chatted and then they insisted on introducing me to the son and girlfriend. It was slightly awkward, and only succeeded in making the girlfriend feel bad about not knowing more turkish. The son said they would like to give me a ride, but there really wasn't space. No problem I said, I'm going to camp around here tonight.

It was pouring as I walked into the one shop by the pier. It's a shop of funky clothes andjewelery , and seems a bit out of place out by the sea in the grey mist. The women inside told me that they actually do a lot of business with people going to and from the boats. I was no exception, and bought a bag to replaced my much loved and completely worn out bag that I bought in Marrakesh, almost a year and a half ago.

The woman inside told me that there was not much to do in town, a pub, that's it. She thought people sometimes camped in the woods a bit up the way because she had seen fires there sometime. And if I walked about three miles up the road there was thegaelic collage, and sometimes they had events there. I decided to try my luck with the town, as it was much closer. The town consisted of a run-down hotel with tiny and completely empty bar, tiny shop, and a few houses. Stepping back out into the pouring rain, a bitdisillusioned, I began to walk north along the road. I passed the armandale castle, home of some clan, and a bit farther on saw a trail leave the road. I hiked up it, and in the first clear spot I got to, pitched my tent. Thank goodness for the lack oftrespass laws in scotland.

It was only 4 pm at this point, and I spent the rest of the day hiding inside my tent, reading, and for the first time, used the enormous porch on my tent to cook. Earlier in the day I had stopped into an outdoors store to get more methylated spirits for my stove. Reading the bottle I discovered that this noxious purple liquid is mainly used to clean glass, and has a very highVOC rating. But, some clever person had invented cans of green jelly made of high quality sugar alcohol that burned to leave only water and carbon dioxide, left no trace, was absolutely amazing, etc. This was my first time using it, and to me it smells just as bad as methylated spirits, but in a different way.Nonetheless, my conscience was eased by the promised environmental qualities and I breathed through my mouth.

At some point late in the evening the rain mostly stopped, and as I fell asleep I listened to the mournful moo of a cow, which lasted all through the night.

West Highland Way - the end

2008-10-05T21:52:00.013+03:00

King's House to Fort William

The next morning my shoes were marginally dry, and it promised to be a lovely and dry day. The day promised to be a hike, as I would be climbing the devil's staircase, the highest point on the way at 500 meters.

The first few miles were uneventful, walking along through the moor, looking at the mountain the guys I met the night before were at that moment climbing. The sun was out an I was happy. I kept looking back, and the king's house took a long time to disappear from sight.

And then the way started to climb. Gradually at first, and then it zig zaged up, up and up. I would get to one of the points by telling myself that once I got there I could stop for a minute. Then I would continue on to the next turn. And the next. And the next. As I staggered to the top I saw thegermans making their picnic lunch, and the south africans who were returning from climbing up the ridge on the side to the view point. Since I have this very strong drive, for some reason, to always get to the highest places to get the amazing views even though I amafraid of heights, I started up this bit. A few minutes in though, I decided that I wasn't carrying my pack up. I took out my camera and money, thinking it was too heavy (at 40 pounds) for anyone else to want to carry it.

The non-existent path to the top was extremely boggy and muddy, but there was indeed a fantastic view at the top. Sadly though, it was too cloudy to be able to see Ben Nevis, the highest mountain in Great Brittan. It was my first time using a self timer on a camera, though, which was very exciting.

Back down at the top of the pass, I ate my lunch, yet more cheese and tomato sardine sandwiches, but was forced to walk as I ate it, so that themidgies would leave me alone. Somehow they had managed to get to the highest point on the trail. Horrible creatures. From that point on it was mostly flat and downhill. I walked along the side of a valley, with lots of sheep. It was very green, and there were lots of waterfalls. As the path started to go downhill, it was very rocky, and a bit difficult to walk.

This path eventually came to an old building related to the aluminium works, and the path turned into a gravel road and entered into the woods. With no more rocks to pick my way over, I widened my stride, and went flying down that gravel road that seemed to go on forever. Walked through the woods, and for a bit beside huge pipes that were bringing water into the town ofkinlochleven for use in the aluminium smelting. I also passed some bikers that were making their way up the hill, which made me feel very victorious in having the devil's staircase behind me.

I entered the town, the biggest place I had seen since visiting drymen on my second day, and who did I run into but the germans. I was thinking to go to the grocery store, buy food, and wild camp, but I was so exhausted that I decided to stay in the campsite. The town, and campsite were full of whitewater kayakers. This was the weekend where they were letting water out from the dams on two different rivers, and so the kayakers had turned it into a festival. I once again made more pasta 'n sauce, while the sunset light the entire sky neon pink, and to celebrate being back in civilization, had some cider as well. Sadly, thekayakers were not exhausted from walking, and were not the quietest. The also had some of the most massive tents I've seen in my entire life. Like the harry potter flat tent that could likely sleep 12.

Grumpy after not getting to sleep until after 2, I tried to get up early my last day, knowing that I had 14 miles ahead of me. Fortunatly it wasn't raining, and I packed up my gear, headed back to the grocery store for things I had forgotten, and headed out of the town. It was good to get back to the middle of nowhere. Sadly though, having climbed down into the valley yesterday, almost to sea level, from the 500 meters, meant that I had to now climb back up the other side of the valley.

At first it was through the woods, and then on the flat. I thought it might have actually have been more difficult than that devil's staircase, but I made it. It flattened out, and sometime later I stopped to have my last lunch on the road. Completely sick of sardines, and having been able to visit the store, I had moved on to cheese and salsa sandwiches.

The way was mostly flat for the rest of the first half of the walk. I passed some ruined buildings, walked on the side of another valley, kept passing and being passed by this same couple, trying to keep my feet dry, and scaring sheep. The walk seemed to stretch out forever. But at least it wasn't raining. Then, I got into what I thought were supposed to be forestry plantations, but all of the trees had been newly cut down, and the place looked like a war zone, and more than a bit creepy. I passed the cairn marking a major turning point in thejacobite wars I think, and then came upon a sign telling me that I had only 6.5 miles remaining.

And it started to rain. This was definitely the lowest 6.5 miles of the journey for me. I was quickly wet. I was tired. I was hungry. My shoes were wet. I was walking through a landscape that seemed unfriendly. And I just wanted to be done. I walked through dense forest, across some very high stiles, though more vast tracts of chopped down trees,reminiscent of the larax, through more dense dark and creepy forest, and stopped to eat my last emergency snickers bar.

Then there was a detour with unclear signs. And I ended up on a gravel road
I wasn't sure was right. Then on a paved road, passing theben nevis visitor's center. It was pouring at this point. I didn't think the rain would stop, the road would stop. It was a horribly anti-climactic end to mytrans formative walk. I saw the bridge where I knew it ended, but it took me a moment to spot the sign. As it was raining I couldn't photograph the end, but I did kiss the sign, and almost cried for joy. And then I walked to the center.

Asking a couple for directions, I was guided to the bank street lodge. Outside was a sign that said no vacancies, and as I entered she was just telling someone on the phone that no, they were completely booked. But, miracle of miracles, they had one female spot left in a dorm. The only spot in the whole place. Once again, I was so happy I almost cried. I ran totesco to buy soap, and the woman at the desk lent me a towel for free. It was the most amazing shower, but everything I had was wet and stinky, and I ended up having to wear my shorts with waterproof trousers over them out to find food.

I had the steak pie I had been dreaming about all day, and some belhaven's best ale, almost fell asleep at the table as I waited for the check, and then collapsed into a real bed, with a real blanket, in the complete darkness, able to sleep flamingo style properly for the first time in 9 days.

I did it. On a whim, inspired by wikipedia, I walked over 95 miles in my amazing trainers with only one small blister. I ate 10 candy bars, spent 10 nights in my tent, 6 of them wild camping and 3 in campsites. I had four tins of sardines, and was wet, cold, hot, grumpy,frustrated, exhilarated, overwhelmed, inspired, proud, tiny, powerful, and very happy.

West Highland Way - Rannoch Moor

2008-09-30T16:54:00.006+03:00

Tyndrum to King’s House

The next morning I woke up to a stop in the rain. None of my clothes had dried however, and so I put them in the dryer before I left. There is something amazing about clothes right out of a tumble dryer. I guess it’s because I’ve gotten so used to hanging up clothes to dry. On my way out of town I stopped for food at the last market for 28 miles. With three tins of sardines, tuna, dried pasta, cheese, and more chocolate bars I was ready to head out. I also bought some waterproof over trousers.

Tyndrum marks the beginning of the Rannoch moor. By some it might be considered bleak, boggy grass, heather, hills, and little stream cut across the land. I thought it was absolutely beautiful, and kept having to turn around and look in all directions as I walked. As you go over a small hill, the view always changes. It is very empty though. Walking through I had this feeling of complete insignificance, and at the same time of great power. I had already walked over 50 miles, and was carrying everything on my back. I could do anything. And yet, in the cosmic scheme of things, I am tiny. Maybe this feeling was helped by the fact that I’ve been reading Sophie’s World along the way.

From Tyndrum northward, the way mostly follows an old military road, making it much easier walking than the banks of Loch Lomond. The seven mile walk to Bridge of Orchy was one of the easiest sections of the way I think. It was mostly flat, and mostly not raining. I got there much faster than I expected. The first thing you see when you get to Bridge of Orchy is the train station, followed by the town, and last, the bridge. I guess before they built the bridge, everyone had to go miles around, because people weren’t able to ford the river, and building the bridge made the route over the moor much faster. The village is very small and cute, but they are selling the primary school. I wonder where the kids will go to school now.

Just after I left Bridge of Orchy, the weather took a turn for the worse. It’s only two miles to Inveroran, but it seemed as long as the previous seven miles. The path is basically up over a line of hills, and then down the other side. I think the view at the top could have been amazing, but by the time that I got there, I was completely enclosed in fog. I sat at the top, on the cairn, needing a break, but freezing and soaking wet. I think it was sheer will power that got me down to the inn at Inveroran.

Just past the inn is a grassy spot next to a bridge – a free camping spot. When I arrived the Germans from the night before were already there, as was the group with the dogs. Everyone tried to get their tents up as quickly as possible, and then we sat in the wind and rain and cooked dinner. I love my waterproof trousers!! On the other hand, my raincoat had long before soaked through, and wasn’t doing much good. Eating the heaviest things first, I had rice and baked beans.

And then we all went back to the inn to sit in the warm and the dry and drink. The Germans had a plan to try all the whisky on the list. Sarah (the American with the Germans) and I taught them how to play the game bullshit, which was pretty funny. The dog walkers gave their dogs corona. And by the time we left the rain had mostly stopped and our things were drier.

The next morning the rain held off until I got my tent down, but then started off again. I was cold, my raincoat was still wet, and I was grumpy. I was going to do the eight mile hike to king’s house and it was going to rain the whole way and everything was wet, and it was gray.

There was a break in the rain, and I sat down near some trees hoping that they would block some of the wind. No good. By the time I finished my sardine and cheese sandwiches (mmm) I was freezing. Thank goodness for chocolate bars. I averaged one a day on the trail.

But then, as the rain continued, the sun came out behind my back, and I saw the most beautiful and perfect rainbow of my life, just in front of me. And soon it was a double rainbow. And I couldn’t help it. All the grumpiness vanished. And then there was the sunshine on my back. I just wanted to jump up and down and smile.

That rainbow kept me going for the next couple hours. And then in the distance there was another rainbow. And then another. And another. And as I once again got to the top of a pass and started down, I could see my destination in front of me, bathed in sunlight. The king’s house hotel was actually a bit farther on than I thought, and the last twenty minutes of my journey were also accompanied by a rainbow, but this time without the rain. And every time there was a rainbow, I would have to look at it every few minutes, to see how it changed as I walked.

The king’s house is a famous hotel, and is especially popular with climbers. A river goes past the king’s house, and out back, next to the river is free camping. Among clouds of midgies I set up my tent, and then headed into the climbers bar to read my book, drink tea, and charge my phone and camera battery. The chairs inside the bar were absolutely amazing.

Returning to the outside I cooked my oh so exciting dinner of pasta ‘n sauce (dried and all in one packet, perfect for backpacking) mixed with tuna and walked around the whole time to avoid the midgies. Back in the bar I started talking with two guys that were planning to climb one of the nearby mountains the next day. According to them, all of the greatest climbers have been Scottish, including the first guy to climb Everest. They pointed out all the photos on the wall. And the place has a climber’s bar and another bar because climbers apparently have a tendency to get drunk and rowdy. Although that night the bar was extremely quiet.

I visited the other bar for a bit, and met up with the Germans once again. Also spent some time talking to the South Africans I had met up with on the banks of Loch Lomond. Proving once again, that once you see someone on the trail, eventually you see them again. They were very happy to see me in one piece, as they were worried about me picking my way over rocks in the rain that day. I had some amazing bread pudding in custard, returned to the climbers bar for a bit, and then went back out to my tent to stuff paper in my shoes in an attempt to dry them out and then slept.

West Highland Way - Loch Lomond

2008-09-25T14:28:00.009+03:00

Balmaha to Tyndrum
I awoke the next morning to a rainbow over Loch Lomond. While I was sitting eating breakfast, Andrew and Scott from the day before passed me. Sitting there I had my first real experience with midgies, horrible little bugs that look like gnats, but swarm and bite. And while the bites don’t itch immediately like mosquito bites do, they do end up itching for days. But worse than the physical pain, is the mental pain of having swarms of insects in your face, flying up your nose and into your eyes.

I spent the entire day walking along the shores of Loch Lomond. Not that it’s right by the shore – there’s a lot of up and down and walking over rocks and such. I had decided that I wasn’t going to stop for lunch until I got to Rowerdennan. Not being the fastest walker, I was passed by many people on the trail. And I stopped a lot to for views of the lake and such.

I got to Rowerdennan after two, and sat down by the lake to eat my lunch. Today’s lunch was refried beans and cheese on pita bread with an apple. I then went into the inn, and had some tea and a scone and ran into Andrew. He had decided that he couldn’t manage to finish the trail because his feet were so bad, and so his girlfriend had come to pick him up. The first case of someone walking to fast and not being able to finish. Made me feel better about being slow.

I left Rowerdennan, and started out on the very wide, gravel road that lead to inversnaid. They never paved it though, and so it’s not possible to drive from Rowerdennan to Inversnaid. If you want to go by car you can drive up the other side, and then take a boat over. Apparently at this point the road splits into a high road and a low road, but I never saw signs for the more difficult and scenic low road, and so stayed on the high road

I saw very few people on the path. There was a family walking the dog, but after that it seemed that I was not on the same schedule as anyone else. One of the loveliest places I passed was a bench, overlooking the lake; with one of the most beautiful inscriptions I can remember seeing. There were also waterfalls along the side of the path every 10 meters or so, and I think that I stopped to look at every one of them.

It was beginning to get dark, and I hadn’t found a good place to camp, so with a burst of energy I continued on the smaller trail after the road bit ended, to find a lovely clearing down by the lake. The first thing I did was to take photos as the sun was setting. But as I started to set up my tent, I was besieged by midgies, and in complete madness I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before, I started pulling things frantically out of my pack, searching desperately for the midgie net I had been lent. I can’t describe the feeling of immense relief once I put the net over my head. Unfortunately I got a huge number of bites on my hands, and on the strip of my lower back between the bottom of my shirt and the top of my trousers.

I had a delicious supper of baked beans and rice, and then called Ian to wish him a happy birthday. My baby brother is now 21 and no longer needs me or anyone else to buy him alcohol. I spent a long time just looking into the darkness toward the lake as the light faded, and then went to sleep.

The next day it took me a couple hours to get to inversnaid, and it was getting to be a bit foggy and a little drizzly. Up until this point though, the weather had been fantastic, especially considering I was in the highlands of Scotland. Inversnaid is a posh hotel, with nothing around it except a nice waterfall. Not one of the more exciting places I’ve been, but I did have a cup of tea and a sandwich and charged my phone and camera battery once again before heading off to inverarnnan.

My guide book told me that the first half of the trail from inversnaid to inverarnnan was the hardest bit on the west highland way, because it involved lots of ups and downs over rocky trail. And just as I set off, it started to rain, making the trail very slippery. I guess I must have been on schedule with everyone else at this point, because I kept getting passed by people and then passing them again. One group in particular were all originally from South Africa, but now lived in many places in the world. They were a bit worried about me.

Halfway through the difficult stretch, which was also amazingly beautiful, I sat down to finally eat my lunch, and as I was sitting there, cursing the midgies, a guy came up to say hi and took off his pack to take a break. His name was Daniel, and he was from Tennessee, and hiking the way by himself as well. In fact, he was planning to walk all the way to Inverness. He waited for me to finish, and we started walking together. We finished the difficult bit, and got to the easy bit. We visited the bothy at Duane, a hut that had been renovated, that was a free place to stay for walkers. You were just supposed to make sure that there was wood there for the next visitors to use in making a fire in the fireplace. When we got there, two Scots were just leaving, having made a fire to cook their lunch on. The end of Loch Lomond is an amazing view. There’s a small island at the end called “Island I Vow” or something like that.

I walked with Daniel all the way to Inverarnan. He’s a very cool guy. Did a degree in sustainable development in Glasgow, and after graduating from a Scottish university, you can have a two year work permit, so he’d been working in Glasgow for a bit over a year. After having three and a half days mostly on my own, it was really nice to have someone to talk with.

He had also been lent equipment, but there was a small part missing from his stove, and so he hadn’t been able to use it. After passing stopping a bit in Inverarnan, visiting the shop to get food for dinner, and having some beer, or in Daniel’s case a half pint of Guinness and a banana, we left the campground. While there, I ran into Matt, a guy who had passed me while I was climbing Conic hill. Funny how half the people you see on the way, you see again.

We decided to camp somewhere further on and less than half an hour later it started to pour. After Daniel ran through a bog, we found a camping spot next to a bridge, by an old wall that was falling down. We had an amazing feast, which included quesadillas, scones, macaroni cheese, baked beans and tea. It was also my first experience with waterproof trousers – Daniel lent me some for sitting on the wet ground. And I have to say, waterproof trousers are an amazing thing! For the first time in a long time the clouds cleared, and with no light pollution, the stars were absolutely fantastic. I think I even saw the Milky Way.

The next day I was up and ready before Daniel, so I headed off, and he caught up with me about an hour later. As he caught up to me I ran into a couple of guys that I must have seen on the trail about five times before. They gave me some coffee and I stopped to chat with them. They had been walking together every year for ten years. Sometimes other people joined in, but they were always part of it. This year they were walking the whole way to celebrate 10 years of walking, and also the 50th birthday of one of the guys.

We walked to the turnoff to crianlarich, where we sat, had lunch, and exchanged contact details before Daniel sped off on his way to Inverness. As I watched him walk out of sight, it started to rain, and rained and rained. I was soaked by the time I got to Tyndrum. The walk wasn’t very exciting, but did go past the site of an old lead crushing plant, a site where to this day nothing grows from the poison that was leeched into the soil.

I was thinking to walk on past Tyndrum, but as I got to the campsite I was so cold and so wet that I stopped. I walked into the common cooking hut, to find lots of wet people trying to get warm, and we all instantly bonded. And, inside, I found Matt for the third time. Something about the way brings you back to the same people over and over.

I borrowed shampoo, had an amazing shower, and then discovered that I had been using my stove wrong for the past days. I played Uno with a group of Germans with one American woman, had some cider, and enjoyed being surrounded by a group of people all evening.

West Higland Way - the beginning

2008-09-23T17:03:00.009+03:00

Glasgow to Balmaha

I left Edinburgh a bit late, and arrived in Glasgow about 6. My plan - to wander around and find a hostel, dump my stuff and then explore the city. In my experience there is usually at least one hostel very close to the train or bus station, and I was going to find it. After wandering for two hours, I gave up and asked, and was directed to the Euro Hostel. The Euro Hostel as it turns out, is the typical hostel for capital hopping americans, and all the dorms were full. Not wanting to pay 20 pounds for a place to sleep I decided to head for Milgavnie, where the way officially begins.

At Queen Street station, who should I run into but Karen, a friend from the Fringe. It's a small world to be running into the only person you know in a city at the train station. She offered her floor, but said that it was perhaps better to just camp at the beginning of the way. In scotland there are no laws of trespass, so unless you are damaging a farmer's crops, you can basically camp anywhere.

And so I got on the train to Milgavnie. At 9pm on a Thursday night the town was complely dead, but I could tell that it was pretty posh. The first sign for the way was directly outside the train station, so it was pretty easy to find my way to the beginning. It was dark by this time, but the beginning of the way was on a paved path with street lights, so I set off. A bit later I found the community center for the area, and went inside to ask the old scottish men inside for camping advice. They told me if I went a little further on I would get to a place where it flattened out. And so I walked until where the street lights ended in a park, walked just outside the range of the light, and set up my green tent for the first time, in the dark. Thank goodness for head torches.

The tent isn't very difficult to set up. The poles are color coordinated, and have little tabs on the tent so you put the right pole in the right place. Except some designer wanted it to be pretty, and so there is a purple pole, and then two blue poles, in slightly different shades. Why one of these blue poles couldn't have been neon yellow, or something a bit different I don't know. This design flaw aside, the tent is well engineered for scottish weather. You put up the rain fly first, and then clip the inner tent to it. So if it's pouring you get the rain proof part up first. There's a sort of porch as well, over a third of the tent actually, so that you can stick your pack there and do your cooking, and everything will stay dry. As a two person tent though, it's a bit large for one person.

Anyways, it wasn't raining, and i had no problems in my camping, except being woken up by curious dogs in the morning. I had done my food shopping the night before in Glasgow, but needed an adaptor so I would be able to charge my camera along the way, and so headed back into town. And then when I went to take my first photos, the battery died. So I ended up spending a couple hours reading in a coffee shop while charging my camera and phone. Only at around noon did I get the photos of the beginning monument and set off on my way once more.

Turns out it was a good thing that I went back into town, because I had veered off the way a bit the night before. The beginning of the way is in several parks. As it moves out of the glasgow area, it goes through lots of farmland. This involves opening lots of gates and then closing them again. Lots of cows, sheep, and these overly hairy cows with very long horns. The path was easy, and mostly flat, but getting used to my 40 pound pack took a bit of adjusting. Much of the path was actually an old abandoned railroad. I passed a distillery, and was given lots of advice by various old scottish men.

At some point the trail led out to a paved road. I kept walking, until dusk, when I passed the first campsite, near the village of Drymen. I camped near two belgian girls that I was to see again and again on the trail, as well as two guys that had passed me not once but twice on the trail that day. I had my first go at using the stove, made some pasta and sauce, and fell asleep.

Still trying to adjust from my festival schedule of going to sleep at 5am, I didn't manage to get up until well after 8, to an empty campsite. I discovered the glorious invention of peanut butter on hobnobs, and then set off. I detoured into Drymen, to have a look at the place, as I was told it would be another 70 miles before I saw a town of that size again.

Walking through the woods outside Drymen I met some guys from Edinburgh - Andrew and Scott. Andrew was already walking funny from blisters, and this was their first day. They were using the travel lite service, which transports your bags along the way for you, and so were walking much faster than I was. I walked with them for an hour or so, until the beginning of conic hill, when I decided that I needed some lunch, and had a picnic.

Conic hill is the first major hill of the way, and the path seemed to be doubling as a small stream. Going up was slow, the top was misty, and going down was even slower. A heavy pack isn't so bad going up, but going down, it really messed up my center of balance, making it much easier to fall. So I inched my way down this hill, until I got to some rock stairs that had been built in.

Balmaha is a tiny place, the center of which seems to be the oak tree in, a hotel, returaunt, and bar with a tiny shop next door. It's also the first point on the way which is on Loch Lomond. I met up with Andrew and Scott again, as well as the guys from the night before to have a pint before walking a bit out of the village to camp on a hill above the loch, complete with beautiful sunset.

leaving Edinburgh

2008-09-04T16:36:00.002+03:00

On Sunday I watched the most amazing fireworks I have ever seen, set to music of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra playing in Princes Street Gardens, compmlete with a firworks waterfall over the side of castle rock. It was celebrating the end of the international theater festival, or really, the people of Edinburgh having their city to themselves again.

After cleaning of flats, and helping to organize stores, I finally left C Venues housing tuesday morning, and still with no plan, went to stay with Richard the first. Richard the first, because he was the first richard that I met in my travels in 2005. The room that was neon pink is now white, and the hall is being redecorated, but other than that his flat remains close to the same. I mentioned that I wanted to do some camping, and he got out a map, and started suggesting places. He suggested Inverie, the most remote pub in scotland, and while the internet provided little information on how to walk there, wikipedia led me to fort williams, and then to the west highland way. And, at that moment, I decided I would walk it.

Richard kindly provided me with a pack, tent, sleeping bag, sleeping pad and compass, and last night took me to meet his friends Jim and Sally. Jim has climed all the Munros (mountains) of scotland, and the two of them lent me a map, head torch, and midgie net, as well as giving me lots and lots of advice. This was followed by the best macaroni and cheese ever (with peas, broccoli, capers and olives), cider, and conversation until 2am.

Today I take the bus to Glasgow, and tomorrow morning I will begin this 95 mile, 7 day walk through the highlands of scotland. Hopefully I'll get some sunny days, and it will be my first opportunity to really use this new camera I got before leaving the US.

taking the long way round

2008-08-30T19:19:00.002+03:00

Edinburgh, Scotland

I'm back in Edinburgh after three and a half years. The first time I was here was only a few weeks after I started this blog back in 2005 for my six months of life changing travel, that also seem to have gotten me addicted to travel. I've just spent the last six weeks at the Edinbugh Fringe working for C Venues. I performed in a show called "Driving Helicopter Style Three-Quarters of the Way to the Moon" which was an absolutely amazing experience. I spent the rest of the time volunteering as a senior swing tech, working four days a week outside in a place known as the urban garden, and two days a week inside in a more traditional theater space.

We created 17 theater spaces in a week and a half, one of the most amazing experiences of my life so far. At this point I don't feel as if I can put into words all that has happened in the six weeks. I can say that I got very little sleep, loved everyone I worked with, now have blue hair, and have quit my teaching job.

I am once again starting september with no idea of what the next year holds. Perhaps I will return to Turkey to teach private lessons. Perhaps I will continue with theater. Perhaps... Although a bit scary, I'm excited to once again be steping out into the unknown, in some senses homeless, in some senses with more homes than I could count on both my hands, with belongings on three continents, ready to continue taking the long way round.

And now that the festival is over, I will try to post more often about where I am and what I'm doing.

And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile

2008-06-22T05:47:00.009+03:00

And you may ask yourself, how did I get here?

I am now undertaking the serious task of being a tourist in my own town. It helps that I've been away for a year.

Weirdest things so far
*Drinking fountains, with water you can drink out of
*You can drink the tap water
*Dollars are bills, not coins
*Free refills
*Cars that stay in their lanes
*Cars that stop for pedestrians
*Driving for the first time in a year
*Grocery stores
*Even small children speak English
*No one cares about football, of the soccer variety

Highlights
*Burrito with pork! and guacamole
*Sushi
*Cheese, cheese and more cheese
*Cheese grits
*Carrboro farmers market with delicious cheese
*Contra dancing
*Tukey's victory over Croatia
*Seeing my friend's baby

so what happens now?

2008-06-19T00:26:00.000+03:00

Unlike a tall tale, in this story the moral goes first. The third time’s the charm. Double checking can get you into trouble. Always triple check!!!

Because when I looked at that piece of paper for the third time I saw that the arrival time in Munich was 9:30, and that my flight was actually departing in five minutes. Not thinking, I ran to the check in desk to ask what I could do. Unfortunately, planes are not trains that you can hop onto one minute before they depart (and I have done that). And because my ticket was a frequent flyer ticket, using three different airlines to get home this was not going to be easy. That and the fact that I had not slept and had not eaten anything in a long time. After Turkish Airlines was very unhelpful I burst into tears, called mom and William, and then pulled myself together. The Lufthansa people were even more unhelpful than Turkish Airlines, refusing even to open my itinerary on the computer.

And so I found a pay phone, and for the first time used that pay phone card I had bought so very long ago. After calling Ian, I spent a long time on the phone with USAirways. Yes they could get me home eventually, but I would have to pay a change fee, and they would also have to redo my flights to Scotland. What stupidness! I was cancelling, but then they couldn’t rebook me on the same flights. And so now I fly into and out of DC.

Luckily, Liz is still with her family in Manassas, and she is going to pick me up at the airport. Unluckily, I had to pay another $130, and I was going to need to be at the airport the next morning at 4:30. As William said, I guess I really wasn’t ready to leave the airport. After making my plans I went in search of food. On the down side I couldn’t get anything to eat for an hour. On the bright side the place had free wireless internet.

I decided that I was staying in the airport, because it would have been too hard to get back the next morning, and wrote something to that extent on facebook. And so later a worried Collette called me, and I reassured her I was fine, although feeling more stupid than I thought possible.

Around 5, my friend Katie called me. She had also been on facebook. I live right next to the airport she said, and I have the car today, I can come get you. Bored and exhausted, I said yes, and by 6 I was in a place with a bed, a TV, a friend, a cat, and real food. We talked, watched phantom of the opera, had soup and dolma, and I slept. Sitting now in the Munich airport, I have many many miles to go. And likely won’t even be home tonight, as the drive from DC takes 4 or 5 hours. But I do feel like I am ready to go home now, and incredibly lucky to have been taken in for the night. And, after my friend Amy called me worried last night, I have to say that facebook is incredibly pervasive, and well, it can have a positive effect once in a while.

But always triple check!!!

A moment of unbelievable stupidness

2008-06-19T00:24:00.000+03:00

I’m not sure where to start, where the craziness of the last day began. I think I could put it down to the fact I was sick for the entire month of May. The upside – I learned the word for tonsil. Perhaps because I got too tied up doing both the set and the lights for a production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. And then after that was over got food poisoning. All three of them resulted in me not seeing anyone for over a month, including my mom and William who got there in the middle of all the craziness.

And so the two weeks of June before I was to leave were absolutely crazy. I tried to see everyone, and mostly succeeded. I spent the weekend in Saray at my friend Huma’s family’s summer house, near the black sea in the European bit of Turkey. We fit 14 of us into the house, grilled a lot of chicken, some of which was a bit too pink to be eaten, went swimming, watched as the neighbor’s house caught on fire and people frantically ran around waiting for the fire department to come, and generally had a fantastic time breathing village air and doing nothing.

When I got back on Monday my couchsurfing friend Tom started staying with me. He stayed with me the first time on his way to Iran to hang out and learn Persian, and now they had told him he could no longer renew his original visa, so he would have to leave the country to get a new one. Told the easiest place to get a visa was Istanbul, he took a 48 hour bus, only to find out it was going to take much longer than he thought. And so he was staying with me again. My friend Cat was about to leave for the states, and so the three of us spent most of three days together, walking, attempting to not die while biking on the islands, and eating/drinking.

My German roommates left Thursday night for two weeks on the black sea coast. I had to say goodbye to Cat on Thursday as well, and then Tom took the train to Bulgaria Thursday night. I had very little time to feel lonely however, as Friday I went with mom, William and the students along the golden horn to Eyup, and was then taken out to a wonderful dinner. I’ll spare you the details. And somewhere in there I finished the school year, playing lots of Taboo, Jeopardy, and giving away American candy to most of my kids, who thought that was the greatest thing ever.

Saturday was frantic shopping at the bazaar, saying goodbye until September to friends there, trying to spend as much time with mom and William, and having another wonderful dinner, this time in Tunel. I feel like I am making up for all the parents weekends I never really had in University since I was living in the same town as my family.

Mom and William left early Sunday morning, and I went to the Moda Cay Bahcesi with my roommates to eat borek, drink tea, and watch the view, which, this morning, included dolphins. In good brunch form we stayed two and a half hours, and then I ran off to return my Joseph CD to Eric, the fellow Asian side person of my show, who gave me rides, advice, and lots of help, and then to Taksim to see Joanna, who was in the US, married her Turkish fiancée, and then, a week into their honey moon, decided that they should not move back to Turkey, but should stay in the US. And so she was back to get the cat. Although she did mention that if McCain were to win, they might give up on the green card for the moment and move back to Turkey. At 6 I was back on my way to the Asian side.

I got to the house to find that Ulas and Orcun had gone off to find our kittens. Half an hour later they came back with one of them, saying that next weekend they would get the other. I guess that kittens hadn’t wanted to be caught, and had been running away. The one they brought was orange and white, terrified, adorable, and a very good diversion from beginning to pack. Already feeling like I didn’t want to leave Istanbul, this just made it harder.

And then it was time for football in Bostanci at 9:45. Turkey was playing the Czech Republic, and they were tied in the group. The winner of this game got to advance, and if the game was a tie, it would go to a shoot out. Tension was high, and people got increasingly frustrated as the Czech goal keeper, who we dubbed bumblebee, kept saving all of the attempts that Turkey kicked his way. Sixty minutes in and the score was 0-2 Czech Republic. And then Turkey scored, and again, and again. And then the goalkeeper got red carded for hitting a guy in the head, and one of the regular players had to become the goalie, because all substitutions were used up. But there was not enough time left for the Czech Republic to take advantage of the situation, and Turkey won. And I won – I had predicted the score to be 3-2, and won an Efes Pilsen, Turkish team shirt. After the first three games, everyone I was with had a t-shirt, and the guys at the bar just loved all these foreign women who were so into football, that they took photos with us.

Traffic was absolutely insane, people hanging out of cars, sitting on cars, standing on cars, running down the street, and all of them were waving Turkish flags, even the covered woman who broke off a tree branch to make a pole for her flag. So it was that returning at 1, playing with the kitten until 2, I began to pack at 2. That and wait for my laundry to finish drying. I was not just packing my things for the summer, but packing up everything else in my room to leave in a corner, as someone else will be living in my room for the summer.

On double checking my ticket a few days ago, I realized that my flight was not at 7, but at 9:30, and so was able to take public transport to the airport. I left at 6, got a taksi to the iskele, took the fast sea bus across the Sea of Marmara, and then the airport bus from there. After going through security, I opened my itinerary for that third look and took off running.

My first fight in Turkish

2008-05-15T12:58:00.004+03:00

The next day I enjoyed a shower in a shower with an actual bathtub (in my house you shower onto the floor), and then we had a lovely breakfast in the garden. Afterwards we took the dolmuş back to Denizli. The first thing to do was to attempt to cancel our train tickets and get bus tickets instead.

So we went to the ticket office in the train station. We went to the woman and explained that we wanted to cancel our tickets. It said on the back of the ticket that with last than 24 hours notice we would be penalized 20% of the fare, but would get the rest back. We gave her our tickets, and my card. But she wanted a recipt. I said I didn't have one, but I had the tickets and the card and your trains are always 4 hours late but you haven't changed the schedule and you need to give us our money back. After calling in her supervisor, she said if I got a copy of my passport she would give us the money back.

So we walked accross the street to the bus station, where we bought tickets back to Istanbul, and, after asking them for a camera, which Cat corrected by asking for a photocopy machine, I got a photocopy of my passport. Back at the train station the woman got out a binder, wrote this long thing on the back of my passport photocopy, and then tried to run my card. After one try, she decided it didn't work because it was only a bank card, not an actual turkish credit card with a chip in it. To fully explain herself she got out her credit card with chip to show us. We explained that we had bought the tickets with my card, and if their machine wouldn't put the money back on it it was their fault. She said it was too bad. No she could not give us cash.

By this point we were really mad. We went outside the office, and then went back in to ask her if she could put the money on her card because she had one and give us cash. No she said, that is forbidden. But if we found someone else with a card she could put it on their card and they could give us cash. So we walked out and started to ask. At the station cafe they sent us accross the street to a bakkal. At the bakkal they gave us a funny look and sent us to a lokanta. At the lokanta we got a funnier look and they sent us to another lokanta. At this lokanta the guy actually understood what we wanted, and took out his wallet to show us that his card was the same as mine, without chip. After asking one more time we realized that this was not Istanbul, most people didn't have credit cards, and if they did they were not going to give them to a couple of foreign girls. We went back, determined to occupy her office until she gave us the money. We called some people to get advice and went back in

To find that the shift had changed. We gave the tickets, my card, and the passport copy with letter to the new guy behind the counter. He tried to run my card, it wouldn't work. He called in his new supervisor, who ran Cat's american credit card through until it worked. Easy. No problem. It was possible all the time.

After winning our fight, we felt tired but victorious. And we had the problem of what to do with 10 hours in Denizli. Conclusion - there is nothing in Denizli. We at some doner, walked around with all our stuff, wasted an hour and a half in the internet cafe, sat for two hours in a pastane after eating not so good profiterol, found the cool market area after it was entirely closed, and then finally walked to the place with the famous Denizli roosters. When we got there there was only a statue of a rooster and it was pouring. We ate some food, sat in the place as long as possible, and then returned to the bus station for our overnight bus.

Arriving in the morning, I changed in the teacher's bathroom, ready to start my monday morning after not sleeping on the bus.

Pamukkale

2008-04-28T13:53:00.007+03:00

Deciding that we had been in Istanbul for too long without getting out, and that we needed to be tourists for a bit, my friend Cat and I decided we needed some K/Catherine Zamanı - K/Catherine time, and so we headed off for Denizli and Pamukkale on the 5:30 train Friday evening. I had bought food at the deli, Cat had brought a bunch of American junk food her mom had sent over, and we were set to go. Two hours into the train ride, a couple of guys got on. One was a naval officer, the other a student of geology. From the beginning the naval officer, ufuk, monopolized the conversation, and likely due to some of the weirdness involving heirarcy in Turkey, we heard very little from the student, Uğur, during the trip, although he did often try to feed us.

I fell asleep early and was expecting to be woken up a bit before 9 as we were entering Denizli. I was woken up at 9, but it was only by Ufuk coming back into the compartment, and then later by the conductor wanting his sheets back. It was only just before noon, three and a half hours late, that we finally arrived in Denizli. Not thinking about the ride back, we just wanted to get to Pamukkale. On our way into the dolmuş we were harassed by two different guys, and feared for the worst. When we arrived in the village below Pamukkale (which means cotton castle) however, it was dead. Almost no life. The restaurants were all completely empty, and as it was just past noon, I had expected them to be full of people eating.

We walked around, very hungry and falling apart, before getting some lahmacun at the recommendation of a guy who seemed nice and was running a sort of tea garden that had no food. The lahmacun was good, and it made both of us less grumpy. While sitting there, we looked in the guide book and decided on a place to stay. After asking directions from a couple of old guys, we were met halfway down the road by a guy on a scooter from the venus hotel. They must have called him, although we were perfectly capable of getting their on our own. The place was a large pink house with balconies, a great garden, and adorable rooms, and so we decided to stay.

Emptying our backpacks slightly, we returned back to the enterance of pamukkale. We walked up a sort of gravel road for a bit, and then reached a sign instructing us to take off our shoes. So now the list of places you may not where shoes in Turkey is Mosques, houses, and Pamukkale. Pamukkale was formed by lots of hot calcium loaded water ran accross the hill, and as the water cooled the calcuim fell out and coated the rocks. It created lots of pools called trasterverines, which are amazing. They used to be full of water, and the place used to be even more white, but with a huge boom of tourism in the 80s and 90s, much was destroyed. Now they have taken sharp measures to try to protect the area, including making people take off their shoes. We we walked up the hill, making little ouch noises as we stepped on tiny ridges of calcium. At the top it was much more red, hopefully from bacteria or algae. At the top were also hoards of tourists from tour groups. Most of them are brought in to the north entrance, so that they do not walk up the hill. At the top we sat down by some running water, and stuck our feet in. It's warm and full of calcium and supposed to be healing.

Pamukkale is not a new formation. The romans also had the opinion that the waters were healing, and so they built a city at the top of the hill. The city is named Heropolis, and the ruins there are amazingly well preserved. My favorite bit was the theater. It's a huge amphitheater that is mostly intact.
Unfortunately, they did some restoration work, and now you cannot get to the stage. I had heard that the acoustics were amazing, and really wanted someone to be standing on the stage saying things, to see if I could hear them. It would be really amazing to put on a roman play there.

In addition to the theater was the main road, a holy pool, with the remnants of columns that is now full of swimming germans and russians, a temple of apollo, and a spring that lets out poisonous gasses. There is also a very impressive cemetery. I guess not all the people who came to the city were cured. Some of the tombs were on the white calcium pamukkale. The poppies were in full bloom, and I am positive that Cat got tired of me saying, so pretty, çok güzel. Yes, I know there are many other adjectives I could have used.

On our way back to the village, the place was much more quiet, as most of the tourist groups had gone home. It also got cold as the sun started to go down. We sat for maybe a half an hour with our feet in the warm water, until an official looking guy took out the dam, and the water slowed to a trickle. There was also a policeman with a whistle and a big stick that was attempting to keep people in a certain area, and coming after them if they passed the line or if they wore their shoes.

The bad part of having our feet in warm water that long was that they were much more sensitive to all the ridges and gravel on the way back down. But the sun was setting, and it was spectacular. By the end we were both wearing our coats, but had our pants rolled up and were carrying our shoes. Against the background of white it was pretty funny - like being barefooted in the snow.

We returned, exhausted, and a bit sunburned to the hotel for dinner. The food was fantastic! The best mercimek çorbasi ever, salad, a plate of different vegetables, and then kebab. At the end I thought I was never going to get up. Cat also befriended a dog named fındık (hazlenut). She was small and black, while the large white dog was named Çilek (strawberry). We ate sitting at a table in the garden.

Intending to just go up and watch TV and sleep, we got distracted talking to the guy who ran the hotel. He convinced us to stay for tea, and told us that he had had 400 tourist girls, but was now engaged so we didn't have to worry about him. However, his brother was there, who had studied Ottoman at university and had never been with a tourist girl, and had I had a Turkish boyfriend yet. That should have tipped us off, but we stayed, had instant pomegranate tea, and the cousin showed up. The brother's name was Yusef, the cousin Bekir.

We sat in the main room, discussing university, the various merits and disadvantages of the american and turkish university entrance system, and the system once you enter university, basketball, football, being a teacher, etc, and then they suggested that we go see the lake and pamukkale light up at night. Cat and I wanted to see it, and put our stuff upstairs, giving them time to discuss. They concluded that it was far to walk, and therefore they should take us on the motorscooters. And now I am afraid I have also gotten Cat addicted to motorcycles/scooters.

Anyways, the seemed to have thought it was a date. The whole thing was very amusing, and good turkish practice. Yusef, the guy who picked me, told me I was cute and asked what I thought about him. I told him I had not decided, which got a laugh. And then we turned down an offer to go to the disco and went to sleep.

Adventures in Art

2008-04-01T12:23:00.000+03:00

I feel as though ever since I got to Istanbul I have been surrounded by photographers. There are of course my two roommates, but I we have also had numerous guests. Charlie is a photographer, as is Filip. Orçun's friend, another photographer is currently staying with us.

Ingo, in particular, has really helped me to expand my idea of art, and of beauty. He takes objects most would consider trash, and sees the beauty in them. Plastic on a building being restored, trash on the beach, wrappers tied to a tree for wishes, a dirty dish rag, all of it can be beautiful if looked at through Ingo's eyes.

I have watched him take numerous photos, but two of his photos have involved more adventure than the others. The first was nearly two weeks ago. I somehow ended up with a four day weekend, and so we spent Friday exploring Üsküdar. Mostly this just involved walking and walking. We visited an old abandoned mosque, and found the theater. Ingo had mentioned that he wanted some motor oil for a photograph he was working on, and as we were walking we passed a car shop. So I decided I would just go in and ask.

When we walked in the man in charge was on the phone but he motioned us to sit. I think he was a bit surprised when I chose the chair closest to his desk, instead of letting my guy take it. When he got off the phone I started my question, the same way I have started many requests - Thıs is a really weird question, but do you have some motor oil we could have. Not really knowing the word for motor oil, just the word for oil I managed to convey what we wanted. I explained right away that Ingo wanted to use it for a photograph because oil looks so colorful when you put it on water. Although I am sure they were thinking the whole thing was highly amusing, they were polite enough to agree with me, and a short while later a guy came back with some slightly used motor oil in a plastic water bottle.

Then we were offered tea. The only thing was apparently the boss man didn't realize that they were out of tea when he offered. So we sat and I tried to converse while we waited. I remember discussing cars. They all agreed that Mercedes, or just German cars in general were the best cars. Of course we discussed the weather. Football. What I was doing in Istanbul. How all Turks want to go to the US but here is a weird american girl that came to Istanbul to work. When we were just about to go the tea was ready, and the boss man sent out one of the other guys to buy some biscuits. So there I was, surrounded by guys, drinking tea and eating biscuits in a car repair shop with half a bottle of free motor oil in Ingo's backpack that they would not take any money for. Ingo has finished the photograph now. Always better to have a story to go with the photograph. And I am sure we provided the amusement for the week.

Adventure in art number two. This weekend Ingo and I went to the first of the prince's islands - Kinaliada - which means Island with Henna, perhaps named because of the red sandstone that they mine from the island. The island is much different from the other islands. The others are covered in pine forest, but this one is covered in very dense short vegetation - mostly bushes. Perhaps it burned, perhaps it is due to the stone, the wind, I am not really sure. We set out with my backpack full of picnic food, Ingo's full of his camera, and walked. Two hours and half of the island later, I decided we had found the picnic spot and I was not going further until I had eaten. Ingo had to go look around the corner, but when he spotted some plastic blowing in the wind decided that this could be a good picnic spot, and then he could take a photo. The spot was beautiful - a view of marmara and not a house in sight. Well, unless you looked around the corner to see the sprawl of Istanbul.

The food was fantastic, better because it was eaten outside with a view. I think picnics definitely make my top 10 list of favorite things, perhaps they are even in the top five. So food finished, I looked at the view and Ingo started the business of photography. It was only when I saw him pick up the object that he was photographing that I told him he needed to photograph it in the air - not on the ground. It was a tree branch, sort of resembling a harp, that had gotten tangled in white plastic. As I held it and looked up it felt very might like I was at a wedding and holding a veil in the air. Before, all I would have seen was old dirty plastic. Ingo tried to photograph it, but concluded the spot was not right.

So we walked down the hill we had climbed before I declared a halt for the picnic, and then started scrambling up this slope that was covered in medium sized rocks (not very small rocks) It was sort of like the place was just waiting for an avalanche. Up we went, climbing over purple rocks, red rocks, striped rocks, rocks with lichen. But that spot wasn't good either and so we left the backpacks and went all the way to where some short trees were growing. Ingo went first and I followed with the veil and tree branch harp. At one point Ingo yelled my name and I looked up to have a rock tumble past where my head had been a second before to instead hit my food before thundering on.

Ingo put his object in a tree and I sat there and kept the plastic uncaught. Occasionally Ingo would move to get a better angle, and every time he did, I found a small avalanche go past me. The worst of it whacked me in the elbow. But neither I, nor Ingo, nor the camera tumbled down the hill, although we all tried at one point. Sitting perched on the hill, defying gravity, the plastic looked amazing against the blue sky, water and the trees. A police car drove past on the road below, saw us and stopped. One can only guess what was going through their heads. They waited a while, and then we breathed a sigh of relief when they drove on again.

Inching my way back down on my butt, I thought I might be crazy. But turning around and looking back, the plastic blowing in the tree still looked beautiful.

My First Earthquake

2008-03-14T20:54:00.000+02:00

I am happy to report that I have survived my first ever earthquake. It occured at 20:53:32 on Wednesday, March 12 while I was in a cafe eating soup with Ingo and was 4.8 on the richter scale. I didn't feel a thing. I actually had no idea until a teacher asked me about it at school the next day. Anyways, Istanbul is located on the North Anatolian fault, which is similar to the San Andreas fault in California. I any future earthquake exeriences are like this one.

Plumbing Nightmares and Ice Cream Orgasms

2008-03-04T14:05:00.000+02:00

My plumbing nightmare started on Thursday night, and at the moment my house is without a working toilet. Unfortunatly, during this period Ingo had two guests visiting and I had one. My guest was an absolutely wonderful girl named Charlie, another couch surfer. From the moment I met her at the boat on Wednesday and she appoligized for being late because she had gone the wrong direction on the tram, I knew I liked her.

After managing to get her stuff up my hill and my stairs, we went to Beşiktaş, to visit Filip, Marten, their hosts, and their newly aquired hamsters, in what is possibly the messiest flat I have ever been to. But since it is filled with good people, I can let that slide. Omer was once again making frying fish. He does a good job, but it seems to be the only thing that he can cook. It was a rather crazy night.

The next day we went to visit Heylibeada. Filip and Marten were planning to leave for Ankara, but Marten came down with the flu, and so Charlie, Filip and I went to the islands with a backpack full of picnic food. The boat to the islands is about an hour, and Charlie, who has a tendency toward sea sickness got a little green. I fed the seagulls, and Filip and Charlie tried to photograph them. Sea gulls seem to be very difficult to photograph though.

Once at the island we took the road straight up the hill, stoping to swing on the swings. We found a really cool ruined chapel thing, that had a skull and cross bones on it, as well as other more pagan looking carvings and greek letters and continued on up the hill. We stopped at what the sign said was a sanatorium but now was full of guys, likely fire fighters, playing volleyball. A guy came out and talked to me but I really had no idea of what he was saying at all. We went down the hill to what looked like a beach, but was really dirt, and after making friends with the dog sat out on the pier for the best picnic ever!! After the picnic I laid on the pier and had fun taking sideways and upside down photos while Filip went wading and exploring.

Unfortunatly, one cannot sit on a pier in the sun forever, and so we continued on around the island, seeing the water deliver carrage and some fantastic views. It wasn't so long a walk, and about an hour later we were back at the iskele. We pondered staying longer, but as there was a boat leaving in 20 minutes, decided to go back to Kadikoy. Charlie discovered that sitting on the side was better for avoiding sea sickness, and it was too dark to photograph sea gulls. In Kadıköy, Filip headed to the train station to buy his tickets to Van, and Charlie and I went home.

We looked at facebook photos, and she cooked me an excellent dinner. Except when I went to wash the dishes, the water went through the sink and onto the floor. Time to call the plumber, especially since the faucet for the shower was beyond the point of just dripping - it was a steady flow.

The next morning Orçun called me about 10 to tell me the plumber would be there in 20 minutes. He looked at everything, sent his assistant running out for materials, and fixed the kitchen sink. While he was working, our neighbor from the first floor came up and started yelling at him. I didn't understand and thought the problem was that he had shut off the water. He yelled back and said it wasn't his fault and she went away, only to return a bit later to yell some more. At this point Charlie was up and a bit intimidated by yelling neighbors.

But the sink was working so I did a mountain of dishes and then Charlie took a shower. While she was in the shower we had three women come in five minutes to tell us not to use the water. And so we stopped using the water. Then, as we were leaving to go to the market and school, a woman asked us to dump a bucket of water on the floor and in the toilet in 5 minutes so I went up all the stairs to tell Ingo, only to be told that it was no longer necessary when I got down the stairs again. This time I called ingo.

The market was fabulous as usually, and the sixth graders were on better behaviour as usual, and I was so happy I bought some flowers from the roma women at the iskele on my way home. To arrive and be asked to once again pour water down the toilet. After one bucket, the woman decided that it would be better if she did it. Later another man came to look and told us we needed to talk to our unetici.

Still not able to use the water, Charlie and I left to aviod any more problems. We went to Taksim, and I told Orçun about yelling neighbors and water problems and how I was at the limit of my Turkish - could he please find out what was going on. It was our six month aniversaries - mine of being in Istanbul, and Charlie's of leaving home, and so we had a date and then met some couchsurfers for beer.

Turns out the water pipe that runs through the building had somehow broken while the plumber was fixing our sink. Fortunatly, they decided it was old and would have happened anyways, and so we did not have to pay for the repairs. But no water for Saturday. Filip left Saturday morning, and Charlie and I went to Ortaköy to look at the crafts market, and eat Kumpir (the best baked potato ever, filled with stuff), and a waffle, also filled with fruit and chocolaty goodness. Instead of going out that night we decided to stay home and watch When Harry Met Sally, giving inspiration for the title.

Sunday morning at around 10, four guys stormed into the flat, set the toilet in the hall, and pulled out the biggest drill I have ever seen, with a drill bit to match and started making a huge amount of noise in my flat. It wasn't until they had moved downstairs that I could see what they had done. The tile was ripped up, and there was a hole down into the flat below.

After not showering for too many days, Charlie and I decided to get over our modesty and visit the hamam in Üsküdar. We had not counted, however, on the anti-AKP protest that was being held by the Turkish Communist Party. There were tons of police, and no busses, dolmuşes, or mini busses, making it very difficult to get anywhere. Stinky, and dissapointed, we decided instead to photograph the protest. I was a bit nervous at first, but there were no problems.

After that we walked up the sea side, had a cup of tea at the Moda çay bahçesi, I learned some Welsh, and then we went to Ali Usta - the best ice cream place in Istanbul. And because of When Harry Met Sally, and the fact that we were substituting with ice cream, we decided to document our orgasmic ice cream experience. The place was pretty empty at the beginning, but by the end we were getting some funny looks. It will remain one of my favorite memories ever I think.

We went back to the flat so Ingo could leave (someone had to be there to let in the plumbers), Charlie packed up, and I walked her to the bus office. It was really sad to see her drive off, but I am sure that our paths will cross again.

As the toilet was still in the hall, I spent that night with Hande, who is frantically working on grad school applications. Which brings us to the time I started this entry.

I am happy to report that Charlie has gotten safely to Greece, Filip to Iran, and that as of Tuesday night we have a working toilet, and can use our water again.

SNOW!

2008-03-04T13:56:00.000+02:00

I'm finding it a bit difficult to get my head around, but two weeks ago today (Tuesday), we were in our second day of a snow holiday. By tuesday the roads were all slushy, but on Monday Orçun and I went sledding on the hill next to the moda tea gardens. We were sledding on syrian plastic bags, looking out at the sunset, hayasofia and the blue mosque. Sledding really doesn't get any better.

A week later I was sitting in the tea garden, right above my sledding hill with Filip and Marten, drinking tea and watching the sunset, with not even a hint that it had ever snowed.

The snow started on Saturday, and when I got back from beer in Bostanci about midnight it had started to accumulate. Not wanting to risk the snow being gone in the morning, I made a snowman at midnight. Sadly, when I went outside to get my camera and went back out the head had been destroyed and I had to make a new one. Yay for snowmen!!

After making my snowman I was not at all feeling like going to sleep and so I wandered around Kadikoy. Near the fish market I ran into a couple who said hi to me in English. They told me I looked so delighted by the snow that it was obvious that I was not Turkish. We almost went sledding right there and then, but were missing something to sit on.

Sunday I met Char, a UNC student beginning her time abroad at Boğaziçi, and experienced Istiklal Cadesi in the snow. It was falling so fast that within minutes my coat was white. The roads were covered (making the bus ride back a bit worrysome) and causing school to be closed Monday. Bringing me back to the begining of this out of order blog entry.

A snowy view

of course, another train

2008-02-11T17:32:00.000+02:00

Belgrade, Serbia

I must be crazy. After getting back to the Asian Istanbul train station Sunday morning, I went to the European train station Monday night, bought my sleeping car reservation, some Turkish Delight for my hosts, and boarded the one car on the train that was going to Belgrade. It was a pretty empty car - and no one really spoke English or Turkish - just serbian. Before even leaving Turkey, I was once again back to speaking with my hands. Now that I am able to communicate most things that I want in Turkish, I had gotten used to not needing to speak with my hands to get things done.

The conductor made up my bed, and at 10 the train left and I went straight to sleep. I was woken up about 2 in the morning, and put my coat on over my pajamas, and walked out into the fog, down the stairs and under the other tracks to the station where I waited in line to get stamped out of Turkey. But before they would give me back my passport, I had to fill out a survey about my time in Turkey. Where I had stayed, how much money I had spent, etc. The whole thing was entirely surreal. And then they got on the train to make sure everyone had been stamped out. Why they can't just stamp you out on the train like most other countries is beyond me. One stop later the Bulgarian officials came on the train, stamped us into Bulgaria, and then I was allowed to return to sleep.

The next day I woke up when we stopped in Sofia. I ate lunch, then went out to explore. It was when I got out of the station to see the very distinctive front of the train station, I realized I had been here before, running to catch a train in the summer of 2005, and making it literally a minute before the train left. No such stress this time, and the train continued on. At the border between Bulgaria and Serbia one of the guys actually searched my entire bag, and we continued. We got into Belgrade late, at about 9:20 local time, and I couldn't find Petra. So I got money, and after several tries bought a card to work in the pay phone (stupid turkcell doesn't work outside the country).
Unfortunately I couldn't get the phone to work, and only found petra at around 10, when I realized there was another section of the train station. She had been frantically looking for me for 40 minutes. I felt horrible. We took a tram and then a bus to her house. It was really great to see her again! Her mom (who speaks no English and is originally from Croatia) fed us both the most amazing pizza ever (eaten with Ketchup - and for the record Petra did eat it with Ketchup, something I am told she never does) I tried hard to stay awake and be social, but around midnight gave up and went to sleep on the bed that pulls out from under Petra's bed - a trundle bed I suppose.

In Petra I have found a fellow sleepyhead, and so we were not good at getting up early. Around noon we made our way downstairs and her mom had made breakfast. First was a sort of french toast, eaten with sour cream and ham. That's right - real ham!! and then crepes with nutella and jam. mmmmm. After breakfast we headed out so that Petra could give me a tour of the city. We decided to walk to the center instead of taking the bus, and half way there stopped at the newish tea house that sells all sorts of different kinds of tea. I had really nice green tea, a welcome change after so many glasses of Turkish tea. Then on to see Petra's high school (depressing looking) and primary school (full of happy looking kids with flowers on the window).

Next on the tour was the Temple of the Holy Sava. It's huge and still under construction. Sava is the name of one of the rivers that flows through Belgrade (the other is the Danube), and is also the name of their patron saint. At first I wasn't impressed by the temple, but the inside is amazing. The entire space is open - no pillars or anything and at the moment very simple. I hope they keep it simple and don't over decorate it, because at the moment its beauty is in its simplicity. We also visited the small older church next door, with walls and ceilings covered in paintings. Petra pointed one image out to me - The ottomans burning the remains of Saint Sava so that people would not know where to pray.

Next we bought sushi, and walked down the main pedestrian street to Kalemegdan fortress. As Petra put it "American girl coming from Turkey enjoying in Japanese food with a view on the Serbian river and city from Kalemegdan...classical example of a multicultural experience.:)" From the outside, I thought the fortress looked pretty small, but it's huge. We walked the grounds, went into Saint Ruzica's Church, and did a little bit of exploring as it got dark. Petra knows an enormous amount about the fortress, who the statues are of, who the paintings are of, and about her city in general. She made a fantastic tour guide, and put up with lots of my questions.

Our last stop was Skadarlija, the cutest cobblestone street, lined with lots of nice and cute restaurants. On the way home we stopped at Petra's favorite coffee shop - Coffeedream for fancy coffee. I had a cinnamon latte (No starbucks in Belgrade!) and it was super and we sat there and talked for forever. I feel like I have found a friend to whom I could tell anything. And who I can walk arm and arm with down the streets.

Back at Petra's house we ate the lentil soup her mom had made and then, concluding we were too tired to go out, watched The Notebook which had me crying the entire second half.

In which: there is a difference of opinion about temperature

2008-02-03T14:00:00.001+02:00

Konya, Turkey

Saturday morning we visited a cave church in Göreme. It was locked, and we were going to give up, when the people in the house next door emerged, and said, oh yes, we have the key. We we went back up the snow to look at the church.

We caught the 11:30 bus to Konya, arriving a bit before 3. We took the tram back to the center, this time with no injured parties, and found Ipek Yolu, or Silk Road, a carpet shop, near Mevlana's tomb, owned by a guy named Mehmet, that friended our family when were were in Konya in 2001. When we walked in he looked surprised, but when I told him I was Sarah and William's kizi (daughter) he remembered me. You were so young the last time you were here, he told me. We sat and talked for a while. His family is doing well, there were some american university students that visited his village for 3 days, I should come back any time, but in June and July there will be a cherry harvest in the village. When his driver took his father home, we also got a ride to the train station.

We got on the train, and everything was good. A guy came in, turned on our heater, and showed us how to use the control. Then, a couple of Turkish guys got on with no luggage, except for food. Oh good, we thought, they aren't going to be on all night. But no, they were going to Istanbul. Ingo and I went to the dining car for dinner (I love dining cars on trains!!), and returned to find our room very very hot. Not having anything to do, we concluded maybe we could just go to sleep. The idea seemed to work better for Ingo than me. Because I am used to sleeping in a room with no heating, a room that is a very dry 35 or 40 C is not a good place for me to sleep. At around midnight, after I had opened the window half an inch, one of the guys tried to close it because he said he was cold. I offered him my blanket, which he turned down. In the Turkish world, a cold draft means you will get sick, just as putting ice in a drink will give you a cold, and god forbid you eat ice cream in the winter.

Not being able to stand the heat, I walked down the train in search of someplace cooler. I ended up sitting at the end of a car, in the doorway people use to exit the train. There were a couple of Turkish guys there smoking, who decided they needed to ask the weird foreigner who wanted to sit in the cold questions. Where are you from, what are you doing in Turkey, do you like Turkey, which is better, America or Turkey, does everyone in America have blue eyes? what color are your eyes? how old are you? And more than a few times - aren't you cold? you can go inside and sit in my seat. do you want my jacket? The idea that I could like a place that wasn't overheated was a bit beyond their imagination, even after I had explained it several times.

It was at this point that I realized how male dominated my trip had been. There is the obvious, I was traveling with a guy, but that's not what I mean. Except for one or two very short conversations, all the conversations I had had on the trip were with guys. The guys on the train to Konya, guys in the Konya bus station, guys in the hotel in Eğirdir, guys in the restaurant in Eğirdir, the three guys that ran the hostel in Kapadokya, guys in the carpet shop in Konya, guys on the train back to Konya. I talked to a woman in a pension we didn't stay in in Eğirdir, a very strange woman waiting for the night bus to Kapadokya, and a bit to an american and a korean woman staying in the hostel. I had gotten a lot of practice with my Turkish, but it had all been with guys!

Anyways, when people needed to get out the door I was sitting in, I moved into a free seat in the car. When a guy got on, and claimed the seat, I went back to my car and sat in the hall. And then the conductors came by, asked me if I had a ticket, and told me I had to go back inside. When I told them it was too hot, they told me to turn off the heat and so I did. A few hours later, the Turkish guys got cold and turned back on the heat. I think I finally fell asleep around five and woke up at nine. Our train was supposed to have arrived at six, but we didn't get in until 10, four hours late, making it a 16 hour trip.

In conclusion (this sounds like an essay now), I really like Turks, but have no desire to ever again be in a train compartment again with Turks where the heater has only two settings - very hot and off. Also, it is now time to go hang out with my female friend!

Kapadokya!

2008-02-03T13:33:00.001+02:00

Göreme, Turkey

The guy on the bus told us that because of snow, the bus was not going to Göreme as usual. We could get off in Nevşehir, and then try to get from Göreme from there. The bus ride was long - with two half hour stops, that were mostly useless. We got to Nevşehir at about 7 in the morning, and had our first real experience with the extremely over friendly stranger. Oh, there are no buses to Göreme. About 20 minutes later though, a dolmuş went. I can see why the bus didn't go down that road. There was too much downhill, with turns and snow for a big bus. We got there safely, and after investigating the three places with dorms, settled on one called Rock Valley. As we wandered, snow was falling and we were befriended by a street dog. Kapadokya covered in snow looks magical!

After eating some breakfast and sleeping for an hour, Ingo and I put on lots of layers, and then headed out into the snow. As we walked down the road out of town we collected dogs. There was the dog from earlier in the morning, then another english setter looking dog, and later, two more. After a bit, we turned off the main road to follow some tire tracks, in hopes of finding one of the two love valleys - complete with fairy chimneys (very phallic looking rock formations). The track was beautiful, but we found no fairy chimneys, and so, we decided to go off roading. In the shallow places, the snow covered my feet, in the deepest places, it went up to my knees. There were also about four times that I ended up sitting down in the snow after loosing my balance. I have to say, snow shoes would have been useful, and walking in the snow is hard work. By the end, my jeans (which are cuffed because they are too long) were full of snow and frozen. We did find the fairy chimneys.

Thinking to go to the Göreme open air museum, we went back to the main road, stopping near the entrance for some gozleme and sahlep. Most of the cafe was unheated, but the guy took pity on us, and brought us into the office, where we took off our shoes and socks and put them in front of the wood stove, in hopes that they would dry. I think it was a completely different experience than you would have in the summer. Guys came in for tea, chatted, and mostly ignored us, except for making concerned comments about how we were wet and going to get sick. In the summer, everyone would be in tourist mode, and we would never have been allowed back stage, so to say.

We decided not to go inside the museaum due to the enterance fee, but on the way down the hill spotted a sign. Reading it, we discovered it was for a church. But upon trying to enter we were asked for our tickets. We have no tickets I told the guy in Turkish. I guess we must have looked pittiful, covered in snow, trying to peer in through the doorway, and so the guy motioned us in. It was amazing! The church is carved out of the rock, with walls completely covered in paintings, and is from the 12th century

We returned to the hostel, and went to the restaurant/common room, where they have moved the couches and chairs to form a circle around the wood stove. And it was there that I sat until I went to sleep. The guys in the hostel had cooked, so we stayed there for dinner. It's very cozy, and at the same time has windows show an amazing view of kapadokya. There is also a cat named Kaplan (tiger), although I think he looks more like a lion than a tiger.

The next day was similar to the first. And I had french toast for breakfast! Best french toast in Turkey, the guy had told me when we looked at the hostel. And it was indeed delicious. It was ingo's first time eating french toast, and he is already planning to make it, as well as the variations he could make. "What if you added cheese?" he asked Something I had never thought of.

We retraced our way along the road to the open air museum, picking up another street dog there that I named Barney (after the flintstones character), and then continued up the hill to Ortahisar, or middle castle. The castle thing is a huge stone, that has been carved out with many caves.
Unfortunately, signs in 3 languages proclaimed that it was dangerous and we were not allowed to enter. So we walked around it, and then went in search of a way to get down into the valley behind. We didn't find one, but really liked Ortahisar. It's a much more real place than Göreme.

Cold and hungry, we caught a bus to Ügrüp, a city whose name I still can't pronounce. There we had pide, more sahlep (it's like liquid sütlaç, says Ingo), and found a bank. Much as I love my bank card, it only seems to have parnerships with a few of the banks in Turkey, and machines of other banks will not give me money. We had thought to go to mustafapaşa, but instead went back to the hostel, to sit in the nice warm chairs around the wood stove.

sorry, road closed due to snow

2008-01-30T19:40:00.000+02:00

Eğirdir, Turkey

Monday night Ingo (my roommate) and I set out for a week long adventure in Turkey. Our plan was to take the night train to Konya, and from there to go to Kapadokya. We got to the train about five minutes before it left, and for the first couple of hours had the compartment to ourselves. Then, a couple of Turkish guys got on. For about the first hour it was really quiet, and then they got out their food and we got out our food, and the eating and talking began. The two guys go to a two year school in Isparta. Cihan, the older one with a ponytail, is learning the leather trade. The younger, Beyhan, is studying textiles. They were both really nice guys. Beyhan knew a bit of English, which only came out after he had drunk Vodka, and Cihan didn't speak any. So it was a good chance for me to practice my Turkish. The sleeping part of the journey, however, was not as good as the company. The seats folded down, but the heating was right under the bottom beds. So the bottom beds were really hot, but if we opened the window, then the people on the top froze. In the middle of the night Cihan was nice enough to trade beds with me so I could get out of my boiling bed.

The next morning we arrived in Konya two hours late at around 10. Our first order of buisiness was to find cigarettes and coffee for Ingo, and then the internet. Our internet directions were bad - Turks have this need to tell you how to get somewhere, even if they really don't know where it is, but at least the hunt lead us close to the center. Unlike in most cities, Konya's train station is not in the center of town. With no word from anyone on Hospitality Club or Couchsurfing, we decided to go straight to Göröme. So we boarded the tram to the bus station. And then, on the way, the tram hit a guy. So naturally, everyone had to go look at what was going on. Then the televison guys, polis, and ambulance arrived. After waiting about 20 minutes, the tram was allowed to leave. The bus station is really way out of town. By the time we got there it was snowing really hard. We found a counter advertising busses to Göröme, and they told us they were closed. Not understanding, we went to the next counter, where they explained that the roads were closed to snow. So we can't go today, I asked (in Turkish). No. When can we go? Tomorrow there is a big chance. Allah Bilir (God knows).

Needing a new plan we headed to the station cafeteria for tea and coffee. Looked at the book. Had some soup. Pondered taking a bus to Van. Then I went back to ask when they thought the busses would go. Or where else we could go. You can go to beyşehir lake or eğirdir lake they told me. You speak turkish very well. Your boyfriend (meaning Ingo) is lucky to have you. We don't know when the roads to Kapadokya will be open. Turns out, Ingo had been to eğirdir before and really loved it. Then, while talking to mom on the phone, she reminded me that we had been to eğirdir before. And so we decided to go.

Considering how snowy the road to Eğirdir was, and the fact that it was still open, I find it hard to imagine how snowy the other road must have been. At one point we stoped because there were cars in the oncoming lane, as well as a truck that had pulled over into our lane. And naturally, all the Turkish men on the bus needed to stand up, see what was going on, and give advice.

As we drove through the hills, the sky was the same color as the snow, making it sometimes impossible to tell where the land ended and the sky began. And it also began to snow. We arrived 4 hours later at Eğirdir, in the dark.

It was only this morning when I woke up that I got to see what was on the other side of the lake. It's absolutely beautiful. The lake is surrounded by mountains, that, at this time of year, have snow on them. From the town on the shore, it is a 2km walk to the island. Yes, they have made a walkway to the island, I guess making it not really an island anymore, but we were not walking on water. And on the way we found the most amazing icicles ever. Eğirdir is really windy, and on the windy side of this sort of land bridge, the waves were very strong. And probably since the beginning of winter the ice has been accumulating on the ground, trees, rocks, and table and chair. The chair really looked like it had teeth.

The island is really cute. As Ingo put it, if this was Germany, the island would have been totally cleaned up for the tourists. But it hasn't been, and so there are still old houses and dirt paths, and well, it has not been sterilized.

There isn't really much on the island though besides cafes, pensiyons, a playground, and lots of very nice views.

We found a place we wanted to stay, and after some tea, headed back to the shore.

At the bus station we discovered that there is a direct night bus to Göreme, and being poor, decided to skip paying for a hotel and to take the night bus. Sorry to the lady in the pensiyon!

While eating lunch, we got to witness the beginning of the doner making process. The donercu sliced the meat into very thin slices, and then put them all into a mixture of yogurt, milk, onion and other stuff and mixed it all around. He then put the meat back in a pan, and told me it would sit overnight like that. Then, the next day they would stack it up, and put it on the spit and cook it.

We decided it was much too cold to walk back to the island, and so instead walked along the lake, finding more giant iceicles. After wasting more time in a pastane and at the internet cafe, we boarded our night bus to Göreme.

Şile

2008-01-24T15:17:00.000+02:00

Last Sunday, Ingo, Cat and I took a field trip to Şile. Şile used to be a small fishing village, but as it is only 70 km from Kadıköy, it is now a summer vacation spot for people from Istanbul. Because it was January, it was pretty dead (a good thing) and a bit cold, but it was sunny and really really beautiful. The photograph on wikipedia does not do it justice!

This is what it looks like:

The bus to Şile was a cross between a city bus and a nice long distance bus, and after some confusion finding it, the ride took about an hour and a half. After arriving in Şile we had lunch in this little place in the center. They had amazing bread right out of the oven. After lunch Ingo wanted Turkish coffee, and, by this point we were already the amusement of the day. But the coffee made us the amusement of the week. The guy said he would check if they had Turkish coffee, went digging in this cabinet and found some (who knows how long it had been there) and then he had to go ask another guy how to make it. The whole process happened a bit fast for real Turkish coffee, but Ingo said it wasn't too bad. We didn't really think much of the town, so we went in search of the sea.

We first found the harbor

and a bunch of boats that had been pulled up on land for the winter

We then walked around the harbor and I decided to see how cold the water was. Within two seconds I couldn't feel my feet. After putting on my shoes while balancing and trying not to fall in the water, we had our first "off roading" experience climbing up a hill to get a view of this.

Once again, I have concluded that the hardest thing is not going up, but the getting back down.

After we got down Ingo and I both came to the conclusion that ice cream was necessary and Cat was very easily convinced. The problem was finding ice cream. The Turks thing that it is bad to eat ice cream in the winter - it will make you sick or something - and so all the small stores with little freezers that sell ice cream in the summer unplug them, making ice cream very hard to find.

Failing to find ice cream at all the cafes near the harbor we walked up and around for the next view.

At this point we saw a cave, and decided we needed to go explore. So we went off the path again, went buy a bunch of guys smoking and drinking and doing whatever else in a crack in the rock, and had everyone staring at us. Eventually we decided we couldn't get down to the cave and so walked back up to the road and climbed over the fence. Walking back up on the road we found some stairs and climbed down them and did get to the cave. Victory for us!

The second victory came later, when after trying at least 3 grocery stores we found a small selection of ice cream, and then sat on a bench on the street eating our ice cream and having every person that passed stop and stare at us. One guy went so far as to stand across the street smoking, and not very subtly glancing over at us. I maintain that ice cream in the winter is a great thing.

As the sun was setting we got on a bus back to Istanbul. We took a different route though, one that went through lots of villages on a road that might have been well paved twenty years ago. For a large section of the trip we were driving on the left side of the road because it was more well paved. Nothing like a bit of pretending to be in the UK.

Kadıköy Kazı

2008-01-22T13:28:00.000+02:00

In the Kadıköy fish market there lives a goose (Kaz). He (or maybe she) is a bit dirty at the moment, but every time I see him waddling through the market it makes my day. So I thought the Kadıköy kazı deserved its own blog entry.

You can see some of the fish market in the background

I love the Kadıköy goose!
Kadıköy kazını seviyorum!

Who are you?

2008-01-15T18:11:00.000+02:00

We now interupt the normal happy narrative for a bit of a pondering about the meaning of life

About a week ago I was sitting in the main teachers room drinking tea and eating my dessert from lunch, when the third grade class teacher decided that she wanted to talk with me. I have exchanged very few words with most of the non-english teachers, because I have to keep up the perception that I know no Turkish at all. And most of the other teachers don't know English, or more likely, are too shy to use it. So anyways, she asked me where I was from, how old I was, the usual. And then she asked me a question that I was completely unprepaired to answer - who are you? I still remember it because I think it is the first time in 23 years that I have ever been directly asked that question.

I remember sitting in the orientation the critical language program had put together before we departed for Istanbul and two months of intensive language study in summer 2005. In one of the presentation the guy made this observation - in the american language the most frequently used verb (in questions at least) is to do. Do being most oftenly used in the question - what do you do? In every other language, he pointed out, the most frequently used verb is not to do, but to be. In other cultures, who you are is more important than what you do. Perhaps he was wrong, or I am remembering incorectly, but I think the gist of it is interesting

And so I sat there and could not think of a thing to say. I went to this university, studied this, now I live here, etc. But those are all things I do, or did. I was saved from having to answer as she went off to do something else and then the bell wrang. And I have yet to think of an answer. Who am I? I'd like to think I am not alone in not knowing.

On a related note, it has been brought to my attention that I may not know what I am doing with my life, be uncommited, and not be living in the real world. The first is true - I do not know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I know that I do not want to be a lab scientist, nor do I want to spend my life doing only data entry, nor do I want to be in the army, nor do I want to work for a huge corporation selling anything, nor...

I am not, however, uncommited. For the vast majority of my life, the opposite has been true. I have been completely overcommitted. When I say I will do something, I do it. And so I got good grades, did math club and science club and theater and wrote a thesis and had a job and etc. Now I do not have a contract, only a verbal committment that I will stay til June, and even though I have found private lessons pay better, I have not broken that committment. Instead, I am thinking of staying at the same school for next year.

On the subject of the real world. I am living over the ocean from my family, and am not being supported by them. I am living on money that I have earned while here. I am living in a different culture, in a different language that I am trying to learn, I managed to find a job, a flat, get a bank account, and find friends in a place on the other side of the ocean. I live in a flat with no central heating and no hot water in the kitchen. We have to boil water to wash the dishes. So I'm not sure how it gets any more real world than that. Perhaps because I love my job and the place I am living, perhaps because I am happy, then it is not the real world?

So who am I - I am daughter of Sarah and Tom, sister of Ian, adopted daughter of William, step-daughter of Shannon, step-sister of Christi and Cari, friend to many, lover of life, happy where I am.

winter festivities

2008-01-15T17:47:00.000+02:00

I guess I left off with Istanbul Wintercamp. Wintercamp was a couchsurfing event. If you haven't heard of couchsurfing, it is an amazing organization to meet other people, sleep on their couches, and learn more about other cultures, while also making it cheaper to travel. A great majority of my friends in Istanbul are couchsurfers or friends of couchsurfers.

Anyways, for wintercamp, 650 people from Istanbul, Turkey, Europe, and places even farther away gathered together to tour istanbul, go on a boat ride, learn various kinds of dancing (greek, latin and belly dancing among them), see a fire dance show, dance to two live concerts, share stories, laugh, eat new foods, have a great time, and bring in the new year together.

I didn't attend all the events, but did learn some greek dancing, a latin dance called the borchata(?), watched the fire dance show, went to one of the concerts, went on a boat tour, and met some amazing people! I plan to go visit two of them in Serbia for the second week of my winter break at the beginning of February.

For New Years Eve, I decided not to go to wintercamp because my roommates had decided to have a party at our house. Fransizka, Orçun's girlfriend was around most of December and into January, and she had two German friends visiting - Dani and Eli, making a total of four Germans in our house. Then, down the street, Amy was gone, but Dilek, Dilek's sister and Ivonna were around, as well as Fransizka's friend Maija and Ivonna's boyfriend Patrick (thus adding 3 more germans to the mix). I invited my friend Kelsey, and then Tuğberk. Other Turks also came whose names I have forgotten. We made a lot of food - cooked vegetables, raw vegetables, yoğurt dip, tomato butter, pudding cake thing, and then Dilek et. al. brought more food and then a turkish family brought more food, and soon we had two full tables. There was also punch (beware the strong punch), hot wine, normal wine, and beer. Perhaps we got a little too excited about the food and drink.

As we have no central heat, we mostly all sat in Orçun's room, as it is the largest. We played games, ate, drank, talked, usual party stuff. Fransizka's birthday is the first, so at midnight there were two cakes for her and presents and everything. We were getting a bit sleepy, and then Fatma and her friend showed up with a bottle of tequilla at maybe 2. Dangerous stuff, tequilla. And then things got a bit crazy, with some funny photos to prove it. Kelsey fell asleep in my bed around 2, and then I went to sleep at around 6. Tuğberk slept on my floor. That night there were 8 of us in my flat.

The next morning the house was an absolute mess. It's the time when you really want a dishwashing machine. But instead, we all got to do lots of dishes. Fortunately there were 6 of us cleaning, and by about 3 it was starting to be okay. Lisa, a fellow american couchsurfer in Istanbul called me up in the evening to see if I wanted to go find something resembling black-eyed peas and greens. So I drug myself to europe to meet her. We did not find the exact new years food, but we did eat some beans, and some greens in the form of lettuce to wrap çiğ kofte (not cooked very spicy meat) in. And then we went and got some mussels. In the fish bazaar we saw some black cabbage that looked like proper greens, so I tried to explain to him about eating greens on new years for money. He looked at me a bit strangely.

Happy New Year to one and all!!

the return journey

2008-01-06T16:11:00.001+02:00

Thursday morning, after breakfast and packing up their lives in Syria, mom and William took me to the Dolmuş lot before going to get a bus to Beruit. From Beruit they flew to Casablanca, and then Bamako, Mali where it is 90 degrees. I, on the other hand, waited for almost 2 hours for enough people to fill the dolmuş so we could leave for Antakya. The ride back to the border was uneventful. When I went to get stamped out of Syria the guys there recognized me and waved. As we were going through customs back into Turkey we got stuck behind a bus carrying a huge amount of stuff. Everyone in line ended up backing up and then went on the sidewalk around the bus. There was a moment when I was worried about getting back into Turkey, but the guy was only confused because he thought I had a one month visa instead of a three month visa. In the dolmuş was an older woman with only some of her face showing, a Turkish man who knew arabic and had lived in the Netherlands for 20 years, and then the driver, who spoke Turkish and Arabic, but I am not sure where he was from. As someone told mom, around here everyone speaks Turkish and Arabic. I think the woman in back with me paid for two seats so she wouldn't have to sit next to a guy.

From the dolmuş lot, I went into a bus office, and got a ticket on the 3 o'clock bus to Adana. I was really worried because they said the ride would take 3 hours and I thought the train I had a ticket for was at 7. There was a service to the bus and fortunately I got a bit of bread to eat before I got on the bus and fell asleep. They showed a movie which I guess was one of a series with these 5 guys, this time in Iraq. But as I kept falling asleep I can't give a better description.

In Adana, I got the service to somewhere downtown, and then a helpful guy took me to a dolmuş to take me to the train station. By this point I had realized that my train was actually at 9 and not 7. Whew. Got to the train station and met the guy who worked there. I had talked to him on the phone the day before when I tried to make a reservation (in Turkish). But I couldn't pay over the phone and the ticket had to be bought that day, so he paid for it and now I was going to get the ticket and pay him back. He was wearing sunglasses and I think could not see well, if at all, and was with a guy missing one eye. After going with them to the ATM and paying, they both got on a motorcycle and drove off. Over the phone the guy did not let me spell out my name for him, and this is how it looked on the ticket - Kentrin Siltsin. Wow.

I went to the nearby kebab place and had some Adana kebab - the thing to do when you are in Adana right. And then waited an hour and a half for my train. I was taking the Toros Express, which turned out not to be very express as it stopped everywhere. On the bright side I had my own compartment in the sleeping car, and the compartment had a sink and heater. On the down side, I thought there was a restaurant car because the train that mom and william took had one. But, for the second time on a long train ride, there was no restaurant car. I folded down my seats and went right to sleep. At 10 in the morning the train stopped for 10 minutes, and everyone rushed the bufe in a chaotic attempt to get something to eat. I ended up with a couple of simit, some cheese, and water. It was enough to get me through the day. We were supposed to get in at 6 but got in at 7. I still maintain though, that if I can have a sleeping car I would rather have a 22 hour train ride than a 15 hour bus ride any day. And going on a train you often are away from the roads and the ride is really beautiful.

After arriving in Haydarpaşa station, I lugged all my stuff up the hill to building, only managing to get the suitcase up half the stairs. Fortunately, Ingo came to my rescue. Door to door, it was a 35 hour trip. And then, being crazy, I stayed home for a couple of hours and went out for the first night of Istanbul Winter Camp.

Christmas in Syria

2008-01-06T15:03:00.000+02:00

The santa that comes to Syria does leave presents, but he does not fill Christmas stockings. We had a little paper tree with little fiber optic lights in it that kept changing color. The tree was made in the UAE. Contrary to popular belief, there are a lot of Christians in Syria, belonging to many different churches - Greek Catholic, Greek Orthodox, Maranite, and more that I have forgotten. So finding a Christmas tree wasn't hard. The only thing is that real trees are forbidden because there are so few trees around.

Christmas felt a bit empty without Ian and christmas music and traditional christmas breakfast and everything. But it was still christmas and there were still good presents. For dinner William made camel stew because there were no geese, turkeys or hams to be found. And as he put it, what else would the wise man do with their extra camel after delivering all the presents it was carrying to baby Jesus? It was delicious. The taste of camel is somewhere between lamb and beef, in case you were wondering.

The problem with not writing about things right away is that I am now a bit hazy on what I did each day, but no matter. Other highlights - lots of walking in the souks and eating fuul. In Egypt fuul resembles refried beans and can be eaten in a sandwich. In syria it is more like a soup that is eaten with bread. It has fava beans, some of which are whole and some of which are mashed, tahini, spices and olive oil, and will keep you full for hours. And the whole bowl and bread is only 50 cents. The guy in the souk also sells the best humus in the world.

I bought presents and then mom and william were sending me back with things, and so I decided that it would be good to get a small daypack that I could also use later on for weekend trips. I thought it would be easy to find, but similar to Istanbul, you have to find the right souk. So after getting advice from Mattey, or however you might spell his name, William and I set off. We walked through clothing and through leather bags, and through the back streets all along the length of the souk unsucessfully. After that we went to Samer a bit discouraged, and he suggested that we go to the toy souk. Going through the toy souk ment that we also had to go through the housewares souk. And sure enough, in the toy souk we found backpacks. I was very tempted to get a teenage mutant ninja turtles bag, but didn't. The guy spoke some Turkish, so we ended up doing the transaction in Turkish. I also got some olive oil soap - Aleppo is famous for it, as well as scarves and a table cloth, as they are also famous for their textiles. The scarves in Muhammed Salah's shop were amazing, and all stacked very neatly until I tried to start looking at them and managed to dump them all over the ground. They told me mom did the same thing when she was looking at scarves.

We had two other amazing dinners, both of them with Samer. The first was home food, with mezze and then one stew with Ayva, or quince, and meat and the other with sumac and meat. Facinating. We also went to another really really nice resturant that is in a restored courtyard house with a fountain in the courtyard. They had covered the couryard for winter. We had muhamara, a spicy paste thing, kibbi, eggplant something, and then I had kofte (meatballs) in cherry sauce - mmmm. In typical turkish fasion we had a waiter take a photo of us all at the table.

I went with William one day to visit Muhammed video (not his real last name). He just happens to sell pirated DVDs. I guess William bought a lot of DVDs there, but then they learned that you cannot ship DVDs or CDs out of Syria because the government is afraid that you are smuggling out military secrets, and because they don't want to check every CD or DVD, the just put a ban on them. The ones that remained I carried out in my suitcase.

All of us went to visit Hala and her mother the last day to take her the printer, coffee pot and christmas tree. Mom had never met her mother before and so we were invited up for tea, and then Hala's mother gave us some cold meat thing she had made and then sat there and insisted we eat, bordering on force feeding. She even did it to mom. Mom tried her arabic and Hala helped as needed. William and I sat there and watched.

We also visited the brother of the Ahmet, the man that owns and lives in the house where mom and William were also living. They are living in a run down house, as they renovate the large courtyard house next door. The husband was out, so mom and I were taken up to the family's room. William was taken into the house that was being renovated. We met the wife's parents and her children who were gathered around a heater. Mom gave them the things she had for the family. Then we too went into the rennovated house to look around. The wife was married when she was 15, and did not know how to read or write, so her husband, 15 years older, taught her. She too gave us some dessert and then insisted that we eat it.

It was really interesting to get a glimse of the position of women in Syria. I would be past my prime in terms of getting married at the age of 23. Many women marry around the age of 15. In the area where mom and William lived, the most conservative part of the most conservative city in Syria, there are few women out on the streets or doing shopping, and when they go out it is sometimes in groups but most often with their husbands. They wear all black, most of them covering even their eyes. Men work in the stores, men do the shopping. In other muslim neighborhoods women wear western clothes and cover just their heads with bright scarves. In christian neighbhorhoods women have their heads uncovered. In other areas there are more women on the streets, but still less than in Turkey. Mom said that living in Syria helped her understand how women can be a part of their own oppression. She felt uncomfortable going out on the streets full of men, and so William did most of the shopping and such. As an extremely independent woman, even she gave up some of that independence without being explicitly asked to.

But not wanting to end on that note, I think that everyone I met in Syria was really nice. They are very welcoming and hospitable and curious about other places. The food is amazing, the old restored houses are beautiful. The government, for all the faults it may have, is subsidizing a huge number of iraqi refugees with its subsidized transportation, food, educating etc that no other country will take. And after being shut off from the world for so many years they are fairly self sufficient in industry. Especially in America Syria does not get enough credit for what it is doing to stabalize the region and most of all for the wonderful people that live there.

Syria!

2008-01-04T17:23:00.001+02:00

Leaving the house the next morning after breakfast I felt like I had walked onto a movie set. The old city of Aleppo is a world heratige site, and it definetly deserves the title. The neighborhood they live in is all courtyard style houses which open inward, so walking down the streets is a bit like a maze. All the walls are made of the same whiteish stone, and periodically there are doors, but there are no real windows on the first floor and the only breaks in the walls are for other streets. One has no idea of what lies behind the door. Leaving the neighborhood, we came out into an open space that is dominated by a hill, on top of which sits the citadel. We tried to go inside, but the enterance was mobbed by turks, all wanting tickets at the same time, and unwilling to form any sort of orderly line. So we decided to wait.

We first visited a shop called Sebastians, owned by Muhammed and his brother, andwhere Samer works. This is the store where mom and William bought my Syrian textile. It's a beautiful shop, with jewlery, textiles, lamps and more. On the wall hangs a poster of Oscar Wilde quotes. Samer is one of the people William has spent the most time with in Syria, and he is a really nice guy. Of course we had to drink some tea. It's different from Turkish tea though - made with only one pot instead of two, and as I discovered later, often already sweetened before they offer to put even more sugar in it for you.

That day we also visited Muhammed Salah, who has another store selling much the same things that Sebastians does. The store is in another amazingly redone Arab house, this one with a spectacularly huge bathroom with the biggest showerhead I have ever seen. We walked in the souks (market) - William tells me that Syria has the longest souks in the arab world. The souks were completely full of Turks though. I have to say, that first day I heard way more Turkish than I did Arabic. We walked by the fruit and vegetable market area and though the dead things souk, where you can find the entire inards of a sheep still conected. It is a great anatomy lesson.

That night we had the most amazing dinner. We went to a place called Sisi, in the christian quarter, a very nice resturant. First we had mezze - real baba ganouj, another eggplant salad, Kibbi, hummus, and olive salad. Then, mom and I shared some kebab Halep - the special kofte that they make in Halep (aleppo). And William had wine and it came out to less than 8 dollars a person. If only eating out in Istanbul could be that cheap. Unfortunatly, I got the cold that I had been trying to keep away to weeks. Everyone at my school has been sick, and not sleeping on the bus did me in.

Sunday we took the bus an hour to the town of Idlib. Some friends of the family that used to live in Salsbury, NC (but who are from Syria) live in Idlib. Nabeg and Rema have a large number of olive trees. William and mom had already been to see Nabeg's new olive press in action, and so now we went to see the olive harvest. They had had to delay for a while because of rain. The fields were still pretty muddy. We watched a number of mostly teenage boys and girls stripping the olives off the trees onto blankets. I decided I needed to try a raw olive - I wouldn't suggest it to anyone. After watching the harvest and collecting an enourmous amount of mud on our shoes, we visited their summer house and the horses and puppies and then went to their flat in town. They have four children, whose names I have now forgotten. We had a huge and amazing lunch, although Nabeg kept saying that Rima hadn't really cooked. And then, trying not to burst, we took the bus back to Halep.

The next day we got inside the Citadel. It's amazing! There is a walkway up to the top, and then the gate makes a few turns to make it even harder to storm. Inside the walls it is like a small city. I felt like I was in Lord of the Rings or Kingdom of Heaven. The citadel is made of the same white stone as the old city and the new city. Inside there are two mosques, a hamam, and numerous other buidings. Half of it has been excavated and half is still being excavated. There is also a large amiptheater where they have concerts in the summer. Wow

After the citadel, Mom and I went to meet Hala, her Arabic teacher. Hala is a small woman with a large presence. She is christian and lives in the christian quarter, and wears only black in memory of her father who died last year. She was there to go shopping with us. For christmas mom had decided that she was buying me clothes as they are so much cheaper in Syria than in Turkey. Our shopping took place in the christian quarter, where the clothes are all western style, and there are women working in the stores. It was a very sucessful shopping trip I would have to say. We also got half a kilo of william's favorite cookies (mmm) and some Sahlep - a hot thick milky drink that reminds me vaguely of oatmeal. After shopping we got our hair cut. Apparently last time, the women working had blown mom's hair straight. I saw the picture and I have to say it looks better curly. So this time they didn't blow it dry. It's interesting - one guy does all the hair cuts, and then there are a number of women who decend upon you afterward to blow dry your hair and do other things. Another good haircut with a language barier. Funny how two out of my three haircuts with a language barrier have been really good.

the road to Syria

2008-01-04T17:01:00.000+02:00

My blog has been blocked in Syria. The ride here was very long. i left my house at 6:15 on friday and walked down to the bus station office stopping to get some simit. My servis left at quarter to eight. While waiting for the service i was watching tv in the office. After a program about a soldier who had died the first day of bayram there was news on the bulls that had escaped. The current holiday is called Kurban bayram in Turkish. It's the sacrafice holiday, where people usually kill sheep, and apparently sometimes bulls. I had actually witnessed it earlier in the day in fatih, a more traditional neighborhood. Anyways, not wanting to die, some of the bulls had escaped. There was footage of them running into cars, running at people and in one case running into a resturant. Atone point i couldnt help it and i burst out laughing.

From the asian bus station I got on the Jet bus that was to carry me to Antakya, also known as Hatay. I was sitting next to a 32 year old physics teacher. over the course of the journey i learned that she is engaged to another physicist, a friend from school and a good guy, but not the guy she likes. She showed me a photo of the guy she likes. She has also invited me over for food when i return to istanbul.

It was a very long 15 hour bus ride. I slept some, but not enough. Twice during the night we stopped at places built for buses to stop and I had some soup. At these places they sell food, but also toys and other souveneers. They are major operations. The big bus companies all have their own, but since Jet is not a major company, we stopped at a stop for all the small companies. And of course, there is (or nescafe or coke) on the bus. After the tea, an attendant comes by and pours lemon cologne on everyone's hands. The smell of lemon cologne will always remind me of Turkish buses.

We arrived in Antakya at about 11 in the morning. The last bit of the ride was over some very impressive mountains. One woman sat there and prayed as we drove very close to the edge. She reminded me of mom. I took the service into the center and then walked with my stuff to the main bridge in town. On one side of the bridge is a large statue and the other side is the old town, lined with Kunefe shops. I found mom and we went to eat the best iskender kebab (meat, yogurt, bread and a tomato sauce) ever and then had some kunefe. Kunefe is a desert that has cheese in it and is soaked in syrup. It sounds very weird I know, but is actually very good. Antakya is famous for its Kunefe.

And then it was time to continue on to the Syrian border. There was just one problem. There were no vehicles going! It turns out there is a holiday exchange between Syria and Turkey. So for Seker bayram at the end of ramadan, all the Syrians come to Turkey and for the current bayram lots of Turks go to Syria. So earlier in the day they had taken every vehicle that could be spared including school buss es. We got on a bus and waited, but they kept delaying the departure, so 5 of us went off in search of a dolmuş (shared taxi) to Reyhanli, the town right at the border. After about an hour we found a dolmuş. Then, at the border we had to get on a bus that was going across, as the first guard laughed at me when I said we could walk. Apparently it's 5 km.

Getting stamped out of Turkey was no real problem, except once again the guy stamped my passport wrong the first time, making a total of two cancelled stamps on one page. The syrian side was a bit more challenging. We went into the back office and after some discussion, the guy in charge said he would send a fax to Damascus to see if they would issue me a visa. To cut a long story short, we stayed there for 6 hours in that cold office. Not that I can really complain. They were very nice and gave us tea and tried to talk with mom. And I know that it takes much more than that for a Syrian to get a visa for the US. And finally, at 10, after I was investigated by the special branch, we got permission to buy the visa stamps. Mom swears that she heard the guy in Damascus tell the guy in the office "But we sent that an hour and a half ago". Fortunately there was a guy hanging around and he gave us a ride to the place mom and William have been living in Aleppo.

Unfortunately, the goodbye party for mom and william started at 7:30 and we missed almost all of it. Everyone was very nice and waited until we got there to leave, but about 5 minutes later they all left. And I ate some amazing french food that was leftover from the party and then crashed in my very cute room up some very steep stairs in a beautifully restored Arab courtyard house. Door to door it was a 29 hour trip.

a year since the very blue gown

2007-12-16T16:06:00.000+02:00

I have now been a university graduate for exactly one year. A year ago I was sitting in the dean dome in a very bright blue robe listening to a guy tell me about how hard the Beatles had to work for their success.

I suppose there are some things I miss about school. But I have to say that as I heard about people studying for exams, I was completely relieved not to be taking any. And it has only been recently that I have started reading anything that could be remotely considered serious. Perhaps I might want to go back to school in a few years, but I am very happy that I am on the teaching end of it now.

As a member of the working world now I have two observations about the differences between turkish workplaces and american ones. Unfortunately, the Turks took the American attitude toward work (or maybe the americans took the turkish attitude?) and not the European one. Turks only have two weeks of holiday a year, and often they work six days a week. Crazyness. Many work places in Istanbul offer a service to work. This means that a largish van comes to pick you up from somewhere near your house and takes you and other people to work. This has two advantages - traffic is horrible and commutes are long, so you can sleep or read on the way to and from work. In addition, it is more environmentally friendly and helps to reduce that horrible traffic.

Jobs in Turkey usually include lunch. I eat the lunch at school for free (and it is so so much better than school lunches in the US! They actually use real fruits and vegetables, as opposed to heating up things in industrial sized cans). My friend that works for a mobile phone company has a cafeteria in their building where everyone eats lunch. My roommate that works in a bookstore, too small to have its own kitchen, gives its employees cards with 200 lira a month that can be used at a large number of food places in Istanbul.

And of course all work places have tea, and copious glasses are drunk through the day.

Cheese!

2007-12-10T19:15:00.000+02:00

Mondays are the one day a week that my roommate Orçun has off work. So I usually hang out with him in the afternoon. Often we end up paying bills and then going to this great cafe near to our flat. Today I was completely absorbed in my book (The Reader, I would highly recommend it) when he took these photos.

Cheese...Although I love Turkish food as everyone I have ever talked to about it knows, I have found myself in the last two weeks making two cross continent treks to find imported cheese. The first was when I went to the annual american women of Istanbul's christmas baazar. I actually went for the promise of ethnic food in general, but I had to teach so I got there three hours in. By then most of the food had gone. The food court upstairs was closing. The candy canes were gone. But I did find a half a kilo of cheddar cheese made in Sweden. The cheese along with bread from my slightly used toaster fed me for most of the week.

Last Friday, I went with Kathy (her son goes to my school and she found me my job), Leah (house sitter who let me sleep in the place she was house sitting), and two other older expat women to the Italian consulate to look for cheese and pork products. I ended up getting some Romano and some Asiago cheese, which are once again fantastic. The only thing I am missing now is the carolina moon cheese the chapel hill creamery makes, and cheese cheese. The tuesday market here is far far bigger than the carrboro farmers market could ever aspire to be, but for all that the carrboro farmers market has a wider variety of cheese.

That being said, I have now managed to find sage, rosemary, canned mexican beans. The people in the grocery stores near my house must think I'm pretty strange. And when I asked for the leaves and stalks of the celery but not the root (what they eat here) they must have thought I was even stranger. Not to mention a bit inept because I can never open the plastic bags they give me.

The time I failed with spices was for nutmeg. A while ago Ingo was making some califlower soup and wanted nutmeg and flour. The flour was easy. My dictionary told me that the word from nutmeg was kuçuk hindistancevizi, or little coconut, or little indian walnut. So at my local grocery store I was looking at the spices and asked for a kuçuk hindistancevizi, and he handed me a small packet of grated coconut. When I told him no, that wasn't what I wanted, he got offended and told me that was the smallest package of coconut they had.

My food discussion comes to an end. Almost. The one adorable second grade class held a bake sale today and the other will tomorrow. It reminded me of being in elementary school in north carolina again.

a room with a view

2007-12-06T10:52:00.000+02:00

The wallpaper removal process - 3 days. Why people put up wallpaper, especially wallpaper that looks like this I shall never know. Thanks to collette for the help and the horrible carpenter for the one good thing he did - suggested I use soap as well as water.

My room now. 3 walls are one yellow and one wall another yellow, but they don't look as drastically different as in these photos. Definitely not as yellow as the first.

My ceiling! Yay ceiling art!

The view from my windows - Topkapi palace, Hayasofia and the Blue Mosque

Around sunset

In the morning

Our hall and dining room - not as yellow as it looks. The flowers are from teachers day :)

My kitchen - complete with original wood burning stove now covered by a gas burner and next to a modern washing machine.

thanksgiving and bulgaristan

2007-11-25T14:11:00.001+02:00

I had a turkeyless Thanksgiving in Turkey. After teaching my one morning class I went over to Collette and Hande's house to cook. We went to the grocery store in a car, the first time I can remember doing that since I left the US. My contributions were a pumpkin pie, stuffing, as well as chopping lots of califlower and potatoes. The pie was sort of a challenge. I did have the lovely measuring cups I got at IKEA, so the crust went okay. They have pumpkin here, and Collette had gotten one for thanksgiving, so they had a huge amount of cooked and frozen pumpkin in their freezer. The thing was I had no idea how much a can of pumkin would be of this frozen stuff, and I had no evaporated milk. So I substituted heavy cream stuff and just added things until it looked like the right consistancy. Collette's oven is just big enough to fit one pie. For the stuffing I used celery root, because they don't sell the stalks here, and used sage leaves intended for tea.

Thanksgiving dinner was great! We had zuccini al gratin, this vegetable loaf thing, tavuklu pilav, borek and poğaças made by Hande's aunt, mashed potatoes, steamed califlower, stuffing, bread and mini quiche things. For dessert we had pumpkin pie (which I think was the best I have ever had), cranberry cake, and vanilla ice cream (no fresh cream for whipping here). The attendees were Collette, Hande, Chad, me, Amy, and Amy's collegue. After eating too much food and watching the football game we sat around singing random song's from Chad's computer. Yay thanksgiving!!

Atatürk designated November 24 as öğretmenler günü, or teachers day. Because the 24th is a Saturday this year, my school celebrated on Friday. They told me I shoudl come for the ceremony in the morning, and then the feast at noon. I didn't have any classes, but convinced myself to get up early to go. The ceremony consisted of the 8th to 2nd graders saying sentences in English and Turkish about what teachers mean to them. The best was the 2nd graders - they were so so cute!

I had some idea that students gave presents to teachers, but had no idea that I would be getting anything. I ended up with two boquets and a rose from students and a set of Turkish coffee mugs that the founder gave to all the teachers. The day before one of my students gave me an amazing drawing with "I love you teacher Katty" at the bottom. I felt so loved. It was sort of an acceptance - you are a teacher and you belong here and we like you. The feast was great - lots and lots of food.

Friday afternoon, I was once again reminded how small the world is. It was beautiful and sunny, so I was going to to read by the sea. And as I was passing my neighborhood Akpinar, who should I see but Michal. She has been doing research in Italy, and Sami came to visit and so they decided to visit Istanbul. I had no idea that they would be here. And for them to be wandering a couple blocks from my house (completely outside the normal tourist zone) precisely as I was walking past was, well, I would say amazing, but I feel that's not enough.

So I showed them my house, walked with them along the pedestrian street, and then took them to the market. They loved the food market especially. We ate mandolinas, and then got very messy sharing a pomigranite. After the market I went with them over to sultanahmet to investigave this neighborhood they wanted to see. We ended up in a fish resturaunt/market area, and after being asked to eat at every resturant, and having a guy from georgia tell us the names of all the fish in his case in spanish, english, italian, japanese, and some other languages, we sat in the circle near all the resturants, drinking beer out of bottles. We had some guys come up and tell us we were going to get sick from sitting on cold stone. We found a lahmacun place that looked to be closing as we walked past, but they opened it up for us. They had no bathroom, and the mosque bathrooms were closed, so the woman from the resturant took us accross the street to a place where guys were making fake prada shoes so we could use their bathroom. Then Ibrahim from the workshop came over and talked to us as the baker made our lahmacun. It was interesting to talk to him and he invited us for tea after we ate. It's nice being with other people because when I am alone I am sort of wary of talking to guys because they sometimes get the wrong idea. After the excelent lahmacun we went back to their hotel and had rakı on the terrace.

And then it was time to visit Bulgaristan (Bulgaria). I woke up yesterday at 5:40 am, and left to take the 6:15 boat. Except I had read the weekday schedule, and on saturdays the first boat is at 6:30. I had to meet Kelsey and Mija to take the servis to the bus station at 7, and it wasn't going to wait. I took a taksi from Karakoy to Besiktas, and I have never gotten their so fast. When I told the driver I had to be there at 7, he ran some red lights for me. I just made the servis, which took us to the main metro office, and from there we took a very crowded van to the bus station. The bus ride was about 2 hours to Edirne. Turkish buses all have a sort of attendent in addition to the driver. First the attendent splashes lemon cologne (mostly alcohol, used for hand cleaning) on everyone's hands, and then he passes out cups, tea bags, or nescafe, hot water, and a little snack. It all seems very civilized. I slept most of the ride. In Edirne we had to take another servis into town, and then after lots of confusing directions, found a dolmuş (shared taxi) that would take us to the border.

And then we walked accross the boarder. We got a number of funny looks. Some people aren't allowed to walk accross and have to get into a car, but they let us walk. First customs, then being stamped out of Turkey, then getting sprayed accidentally with the stuff they use to clean the bottom of cars, then stamped into Bulgaria, and customs on that side. There isn't much on the Bulgarian side. I changed some money and we had some fantastic pizza and bulgarian beer. Then we hailed a bus, but when he told us how much it was to Sofia, and that he wasn't going through any other towns, I had him let us off by the closest village. The village was named Kaptain Andreevo, and there we met some teenage boys with great mullets on very old bicycles. The older one knew some English, and they accompanied us on our walk around the village. In the village there were some photos of people posted on walls, and when we asked, the boy told us they had died. We walked toward the church, and when we asked if we could photograph it, the boy thought we meant the photo of a dead person, and said if we took a picture of that we would also die. We crossed the highway and found a store owned by a guy from Edirne. There we tried this really weird Boza stuff, and had some more beer. There weren't really any busses to svalengrad, the nearest city, and so we walked back and went back into Turkey. We had one problem when they just stamped my and Kelsey's visas again because they had not yet expired. The whole goal of the expedition was to get new visas. We asked and were told where to buy them and then had to get them stamped again. I think the cars we cut in front of might have been a bit pissed.

The custom's officer told us there were dolmuşes back to Edirne, and so we were just going to take the bus that was going through inspection straight back to Istanbul, when he found a woman going to Edirne that would give us a ride. She told us there had been a flood and that the border had been closed for four days, explaining why the line of Trucks to get into bulgaria extended all the way back to Edirne, some 20 kilometers.

Back in Edirne, we realized there were few hotels, and it was going to be expensive to stay. So after trying two places, we found a ticket the third place, where a weird guy worked that spent a lot of time telling mija how she could improve her skin. We were all tired and cold and had some soup and tea for dinner. Then used the internet and took a city minibus to the bus station to get on the bus back to Istanbul. When we got to the big istanbul station there were a lot of people, and drums. Guys were being thrown up into the air and there were firecrackers. Mija explained that a group of guys were about to begin their military service (mandatory in Turkey) and that their friends and family were there to see them off. Took another servis to taksim (had to stop at one point so the driver could put more fluid of somekind into the van) and then I took a dolmuş home.

In total that makes three large buses, 7 small buses/vans, one boat, one taksi, and one experience hitchiking to get my new visa. All in all I would have to say the day was a success and bonding experience.

And now to get out and enjoy the sunshine before the clouds return!

football and other chaos

2007-11-25T13:48:00.000+02:00

First, the details of the going out last week. Thursday night I met Collette, Johannes, his sister Lisa, some other Europeans and later Hande. We ended up going to three different pubs in Kadikoy, the last of which was called teachers pub. So much for me deciding never to go there. At the last pub Collette just kept handing me beers, resulting in me being the second most drunk I have ever been in my life. I recall Collette and Hande walking me home and the stairs being easier when drunk. I also showed Hande the former wallpaper in my room. I was switching back and forth between Turkish and English. But I'm a bit hazy on what I said. They tell me I said nothing stupid.

The next morning before 8, Tom and Andy arrived to get their stuff. It was a bit too early. They moved all their stuff out on the landing and repacked it. Then Tom went off to Western Union, Andy started putting on his new wheels, and I went in search of kaşarli toast. I helped Andy dismantle his broken wheel and will attempt to sell the non-broken one on Ebay for them.

By that time it was noon, and so Tom made some very delicious lunch - potatoes, onions and pepper left over from the dinner monday put into pide bread with cheese - mmm. After lunch, Andy and Tom were hanging out on the landing, so I went to visit. And then, the door shut with my keys inside. This was half an hour before I needed to leave to go teach and I was still in my slippers. First Tom tried to break into the front door with no luck. Then, we went through my neighbor's flat to her balcony and he climbed onto my balcony from hers. I video taped the entire thing. He arrived safely, only to discover that the door wouldn't open from the outside. It was then I realized that Amy might be home and I could just get her keys. So I walked to her house in my slippers, and thankfully she was home.

When I left to go teach, my landing was completely full of gear, and when I got back two hours later it was gone. My room and balcony were empty, and it felt very strange. Then, I went out in the pouring rain to meet a couch surfer named Lisa and had dinner with her. We went to a pub, met more couch surfers and Kelsey, then Lisa went home and we moved pubs and met Collette. I drank a huge amount of apple juice, and Kelsey and I were unsucessful in getting french fries.

The next day I slept late, and then went to Boğazici to get the best kaşarli simit and finished Jane Austin's pursuasion, an extremely good book. Between Mom, William, Tom and Andy I now have a huge stack of books to read. Yay! That night I met some couchsurfers again and Kelsey and we went to a bar and then went out dancing. Good times. I have to say though, going out three nights in a row is a crazy thing.

Monday all was normal at school until a school inspector showed up. And so I had to leave. Monday is Orçun's day off work, and so for the first time in forever, Ingo, Orçun and I all had dinner together. Later that night Amy, Dilek, Dilek's sister and their friend showed up for Ingo's slightly delayed birthday cake. mmm cake

Wednesday saw me at my first football (soccer) match of my life. Turkey was playing Bosnia, and they had to win in order to qualify for the European Champeonship tournament in 2008. I went with Collette, four german guys and two Turkish guys. It's the first event I can remember being at where the women's bathroom was completely empty when I went in. For most of the match, the only other woman we could see was wearing a Turkish flag shirt and had her head covered.

Apparently the match was pretty boring, and by the last 15 minutes the announcer had started to come on and beg the crowd to cheer. When this didn't work he asked them to wistle, started to cheer himself, and then asked them to cheer for the soldiers. Turkey won 1-0, but there were some close calls at the end. After the game there were fireworks above the stadium. Then we left in chaos, took the metro to Taksim, a dolmuş to Kadıköy, and then visited a sports bar before I walked home.

Visitors!

2007-11-19T17:31:00.000+02:00

Crazy that half a month has passed since my last entry. The time has flown by, mostly with rainy and cold weather. It's a bit like England or Oregon in the winter here it seems. Thursday I'm going to be celebrating thanksgiving with some other Americans. I'm going to attempt to make a pumpkin pie. They have enormous pumpkins here, but I have yet to see a pie pan.

On the whole things are going well. Mom and William came to visit about a week and a half ago. They arrived by train early Thursday morning. The same day I started hosting a couple of really cool British guys, Tom and Andrew, who are cycling around the world. My room was suddenly full of gear and the balcony full of bicycle. And they had to carry it all up my stairs. It was fantastic to see mom and William!! The first thing we did was go to the baazar so they could visit Hasan and Murat. I guess first there was lunch. That afternoon I took them to the book exchange and then we had dinner in a place we would never have found had we not been told about it. Completely unsignposted from the outside, like so many of the best places in Istanbul. I got back home to find Tom and Andrew reading in my room. That night I attempted to give Tom a turkish lesson, although I lied a lot and kept having to backtrack. I think he learned a few things though.

Friday I had to teach the english teachers of the future class, because it had been rudely cancelled due to a philosophy exam earlier in the week. After the class I met mom and William on the other side at Efdal's school. After waiting a long time for them and having my name written in fancy caligraphy, they arrived and mom discussed her study abroad program with the boss. Afterward, we got on the boat, and then I had my first ride on the nostalgic tram. I don't usually think of Mom and William as old, so it was kind of strange to see that other people do. I think it's because in turkey, many people, especially women, dye their hair. So mom is one of the few grey haired women, and the only one with long curly grey hair. Anyways, they didn't have to give up their seats on the tram.

Back at my flat I got to see some of Tom and Andrew's photos, and then a bunch of mom and william's photos. They liked my flat and neighborhood a lot. I was glad, because for many it might be too funky. We then went to my favorite resturant for dinner. There is a theme to their visit - food! That night Andrew, Tom, Ingo and I visited some bars on bar street - awesome old wooden houses that are now multilevel, very smoky bars. I have to say that hanging out with these british guys (and maybe the wet weather as well) is making my feet itch again.

Saturday saw me at another fantastic resturaunt for dinner. Before dinner I met mom on Istiklal Cadesi to look for shoes for her. Instead it poured and we ended up spending all the time on the terrace of a cafe that had been covered up. The floor was wet and everyone inside was wet. We got this really weird and very green pistacio and cocolate cake thing. The best part was the chocolate covered pistacios, and so I ended up in a seven year old moment, dismantling the cake in search of them. Yay playing with food. Later in the evening there was more playing with food - playing poker for tiny raisins. It was decided that it was a reqiurement to eat everything that was won.

Saturday morning was Ataturk's death day. There was a ceremony at school that morning, and because I was curious I got up really early and went. It was really well put together and I was really impressed with all the work my students had done. The only thing wrong was that while they were showing photos of Ataturk's mosoleum, they played 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen' in the background. All in all a very interesting, memorable, and informative experience.

William got his NFL fix on Sunday. We went to my friend Collette's house, for the NFL party with the best turkish food ever. Or the only NFL party I've been to with Turkish food. That day I also visited Akmerkez, and sort of helped mom in her boot buying quest. Shoes, and more generally, buying clothing in Turkey is horribly expensive.

Monday, saint William made dinner at my house for my roommates, and the brits. We were lacking in plates, napkins, silverware, and chairs, but it was still a fantastically yummy basque dinner. At school that day I was asked to prepare a speach on the ceremony I went to Saturday. Three cheers for the cook!! That night my roof leaked, and there was much general wetness on many levels.

Tuesday was a teaching day. I have to say that before now, I have never really appreciated a shower where water does not go all over the bathroom, and you don't have to always hold the shower head thing in your hand. I got to take a shower at mom and william's hotel - and a more fantastic shower was never had. Perhaps that was more information than you wanted.

Wednesday mom and william left. It was very sad. But before that they bought half a kilo of the most amazing cookies in Istanbul and then we went to the fish resturant in the fish market. We discovered that the awesome goose that wanders around the market belongs to them - their boss. The fish was fantastic - not since the fish market in Casablanca have I had fish that amazing. I told you that the theme was going to be food. That morning I delivered a little speech I had been asked to write by the principle and my department head to the entire school. Apparently it may be published on the school website.

Thursday, Friday and Saturday involved far too much going out, and that story will have to be told at some time when my hands are warmer than they are now.

If you were at all curious when I mentioned that these two guys are bicyling around the world - check out their website at http://www.ride-earth.org.uk/

Happy Halloween

2007-10-31T19:17:00.000+02:00

My house, Moda, Kadıköy, Istanbul, Turkey

Dedicated to Dillon - the cat who loved halloween

It seems very strange to be in Turkey where no one is celebrating halloween. Halloween and thanksgiving are my favorite holidays. I suppose I'll have to plan something for thanksgiving. I've been horribly lax in posting, sorry for that.

I've now been here two months. It seems like I just got here and yet that I've been here so long. I've been teaching at the school I found at the end of my last post for 6 weeks now. It's definetly been a learning experience. I have kindergardeners, second through seventh grade classes, high school english prep, and english teachers of the future. I see each class once a week for 40 minutes (known as an hour) (shorter with the kindergarden), making a total of about 12 hours a week plus planning time. A few of the classes are really challenging because they are too crowded and the kids don't listen, but for the most part they want to learn English. The other teachers have been really great about giving me ideas for lessons and generally helping me out when I have no idea what I'm doing. The turkish education is a bit different than the US system - more authority and less creative thinking.

I also have one private class. I'm teaching a businessman in his early 30s named Bora. He lived in San Diego for a year and his English is really good. Basically he's paying me a lot of money to talk with him for an hour and a half a week and assign homework. He just wants to make sure that he doesn't forget his english. He races sailboats, rides a motorcycle, and is looking for a house because he is about to get married, which means he gets to move out of his parents' house.

Just today I found another job teaching a conversation class 3 hours every sunday to recent university graduates. I have my first class sunday. Hopefully it will go well.

After being in Istanbul a month, and trying all the turkish websites, english websites, and builiten boards that I could find, I found a place to stay. Thanks so much to all the people who let me sleep on their couches (some of them fold out) while I was looking for a place to stay - Aylin, Kubi and Ali Kaan, Leah and the two dogs, Erol and his family, and Ali. I found a place by looking at the buliten board in the german bookstore at my friend Ferah's suggestion. I called and Amy answered.

The place I'm living is likely about 100 years old. I'm on the 5th floor, meaning I have a view and lots of stairs to climb. Out my window I can see hayasofia, the blue mosque, and topkapi palace. The floors are wood and the ceilings have been painted. On the down side the plumbing is a little bit sketcy and we haven't yet gotten a referigerator. But we do have hot showers, a stove, and a washing machine. Next month we plan to paint the kitchen and buy the refrigerator.

I have two and a half roommates. One is a Turkish guy named Orçun, a photographer by training who works in a book store on the european side. He only speaks Turkish. The other is a German guy named Ingo who is a photographer and that's what he gets paid for. He's only here til april. He speaks german and english. The half roommate is named Amy. She lives down the street and has a business that buys translation rights to books. She also does translation, and is using the last room as an office to do translation a few times a week. She is american and is fluent in Turkish. So when she's not around I find myself translating between Ingo and Orçun. Fortunatly Orçun is very patient and a good teacher. So I'm getting lots of Turkish practice.

When I moved in my room had this horrible wallpaper that was badly done. In my inocence, I thought it would be easy to take off. Three days later, and with some help from my friend Collette, it was finally off. Then I spent a day cleaning and sanding and two nights painting. After a week I could finally move my cusions into my room to sleep.

The bed was another story. When we moved in we found a carpenter to build a door to Amy's room. He was telling her how in the past he had made these seat bed things. I thought that sounded cool, and he told me he could make me one for 100 lira. That was thursday I think. He was supposed to bring it Tuesday. Tuesday and Wednesday nights I sat at home waiting. Thursday he brought a bed that looked like a set piece for a play. Except that had I built it, I could have done it better. Unfortunatly I paid him.

Next came seker bayram and my first ever trip to IKEA with Ali and his family. What an insane place. The stores were closed for the weekend, but on Monday, Orçun's day off from work, we got a washing machine and I got a mattress and a sort of closet made of cloth.

After a second trip to IKEA this past monday (republic day) and many trips to the ucuzlik pazari (store of cheap things) I feel settled in my house. I really really like it actually. My house is about a 15 minute walk to the ferry boat dock and the shared taxis that I take to work. I'm 5 minutes from two grocery stores and there's a corner store on my corner. A note about IKEA - the second time I went by bus and it was an adventure. It's designed for cars.

Today I got my first pay check (well, except that I'm not on the books so it was cash not a check). And then I went and opened a bank account. A few days ago I had gone to the tax office to get a tax number which is necessary for having a bank account. They are supposed to be sending me an ATM card in the mail.

That's about it for now. I'm gradually trying the resturants and cafes in my neighborhood. The guy who runs the bakery near my school knows me know because I go in there many mornings to get some breakfast on the way to school. Oddly I've been drinking more coffee here (turkey is primarily a tea drinking country) than I have in the rest of my life. I have brunch with roommates on the weekends and have already had two guests try out my floor. I've gotten into the networks of the professional american women in istanbul and the young female english teachers of istanbul. All the people in both networks are amazing. Life is good.

the job hunt saga

2007-09-14T13:10:00.000+03:00

Istanbul, Turkey

A summery of progress so far. On Saturday I arrived. Sunday I went to a wedding. And Monday I started looking for work. I had made some conections at the lunch after the wedding. So I started calling and sending emails. I also went to Kadikoy and visited 5 languages schools there to ask about teaching English. At the end of the day I had filled out one application and sent in 2 cvs.

Tuesday I turned in my application to English Time. On my way to the boat to go visit Sam, I stopped at the Brittish English booth to see if they needed teachers. An american girl was sitting there and translated what I said to the turkish guys. I feel like asking for english teaching, I should ask in english, for some reason. The guys were helping her fix her shoe, which had broken. Turns out that she went to chapel hill high, graduated in 96, took time off, and then just graduated from UNC and spent a year at bogazici university. It's a very small world. So I took her with me to meet Sam. We had lunch at sultanahmet koftesi, and then wandered around the taksim area. Then we went to the internet cafe. I feel like I spend far too muchtime on the internet these days with job searching and all. I had an email from a friend of a friend. She had two job suggestions for me. I emailed my CV to one, and then called the other, Small Hands preschool. The guy there said that that the woman in charge would call me soon. Indeed, later that day she called me, asked me to send her my cv, and asked if I could meet her at the school in Etiler wednesday morning at 8:30. Thanks to russ my CV got emailed.

Wednesday I woke up at 6, and had to take a bus and then a boat to the other side. By the time I got there I had to take a taksi, because I didn't have enough time to take the other bus. I got to the school, to find it was the first day of school. Chaos. I met with the woman in charge, Leman. She's horribly busy because she's trying to run 4 schools. Turns out one of the two teachers of the yellow group 2 year old class hadn't shown up. So they asked me to work right away to try it out. And then kids started showing up. I tried. I used turkish I didn't even know I remembered. I played with kids, talked to their parents, helped feed them lunch. 2 year olds are super cute, but you can't reason with them. Leman asked me to come back the next two days and said we woudl talk on Friday

Thursday was more chaos in the preschool and getting up early. Wednesday night I had gotten a call from someone my mom knows and I had met once. So after the school day was over for me, I called her. She wanted me to come to Topkapi palace and send her a text message at 4:30. She must not have gotten my text message. When I texted her again at 5 she said I had just missed the performance she wanted me to see. I got all excited, maybe I could get a part time job doing theater stuff. I waited more while she did some errands. Turns out, she wanted me to work 2 days a week giving out flyers and convincing people to come to her show. I'm sure it's a fantastic show, but I hate trying to sell things. I emailed later to say no.

Friday, more preschool chaos. After I was done I waited around a long time, and was told Leman was busy, she would call me later. So I left. Then I get a phone call from my fellow teacher, Leman will call me Saturday.

Saturday I get sick with a cold. I go to some events with Aylin and Kubi. One of them is a ceremony for kids that are about to start primary school. Leman doesn't call.

Sunday I feel horrible and don't do anything. I call Jay, the mentor at the school. He tells me I can talk to Leman tomorrow morning.

Monday I wake up, drag myself out of bed and go to the preschool. Leman calls me into her office. She tells me she wants to speak to me personally and professionaly. She tells me I am a great person and work with the kids very well one on one, but I'm not that good with a group. If I want I can try out another of her schools on the asian side, but they only need a teacher in the afternoon. So if they can find me an assistantship in the morning, and if I work better with the kids over there, I can try it out for a week, and then maybe they can hire me. I said no. Maybe because I had started three days ago, didn't know turkish (I was supposed to speak enlish not turkish), the parents were still there, everyone was settling in, and I had no experience. Oh well. But I worked the rest of the day, and managed not to start crying. I did blow my nose every five minutes. They did pay me for the four days I worked.

Tuesday I call a woman at a private school who needs an english teacher. I heard about the job last week, but didn't call because I thought I had the job at the preschool. She said, can you come meet with me. Having thoughts of oh no, not again, another super busy woman, I went to her school. The school is nice, and she took time to sit down and talk with me. They want a native enlish speaker to go into each class's english class once a week and do conversation things. I would be working with kindergarden to 10th grade. But the english teachers woudl stay in the room with me. They paid well, and everyone seemed nice, so I said yes. She made me promise I wouldn't leave them.

Since then I've sent out numerous emails looking for another part time job in policy or geography, visited the american research institute in Turkey, visited the baazar again, and tried to get better.

Ramazan started yesterday here. It's weird to see all the food stalls open, but no one buying food. I think being in Turkey for Ramazan will be a very interesting experience. This morning I was woken up by drumming at 3:30am. Apparently guys play drums through the neighborhoods to wake people up so they can eat before the sun comes up and the first prayer. I reminded me of being woken up by the call to prayer the first night I was in Istanbul (that I remember).

Anyways, that's the saga of the job hunt so far. Sorry if it was a bit boring. I start teaching not this coming Monday, but the next Monday, the second week of school. And by that time I hope to have a room in a flat and another part time job.

Happy ramazan and jewish new year

in which i enter the former ottoman empire

2007-09-14T12:50:00.000+03:00

Istanbul, Turkey

I arrived in Turkey. It was a rather long trip from Prague. First I took the 6:30 bus from Prague to Budapest. If you're in the czech republic I would highly recomend student agency as a bus company. First they give student discounts. Second, they give you free hot beverages from a machine that makes very sweet slightly lemony tea, just the thing if you had to wake up far to early. And third, they show really random czech movies, including one about a guy who pretended to be a waiter during socialism, and everyone was so tired of waiting to pay they gave him their money. Called run waiter run or something like that. Another was called mountains of carpathia. On the bus I met a very nice woman who had been doing a medical rotation in the czech republic. She offered to show me around budaest, but feeling like I really needed to get to Istanbul I had to decline her offer.

After navigating the budapest metro I arrived at the train station. I really think the man behind the ticket counter had never written a ticket to istanbul before, because he had to consult all sorts of booklets and it took a very long time. But I had my ticket. I was too tired to do anything besides go to the grocery store. The 36 hour train ride I was about to take would have no dining car.

The istanbul bound car was half first class and half second class. I don't think I've ever seen a car split in half like that. Most of the rest of the train was going to greece, and other cars were bound for romania and bulgaria. A guy not wearing a uniform helped me onto the train, put me in a first class compartment and took my ticket. I was a bit concerned, until he took the tickets of other people coming onto the train. It turned out that there was one older turkish guy, two austrailian girls, one brittish girl named sam, me, and the conductor on the train. So we each got a compartment to ourselves. I ate some food and then folded down my seat into a bed and passed out. I was woken up at about 11 when we crossed into Romania. There was a passport check and 30 minute stop on each side of the border. Romania didn't take any time changing their passport stamp to the EU format. Places like the czech republic still have their own stamps.

Around 11 the next day we stoped in some little town in Romania. We were there for about 3 hours, so Sam and I got off and wandered around. Our car was the only thing on the tracks, sitting all by itself. It was pretty funny. There wasn't much in the town except for some big power plant. We had some too expensive coffee and then walked around. Later we found the austrailian girls and all had beer. By this point we had gotten better at negotiating with our euros. Fortunatly this time I didn't need any money in Romania, since I still wouldn't have been able to get any.

We left, and I spent the rest of the day sleeping and looking out the window. That afternoon we crossed into Bulgaria, and the scenery immediatly got more beautiful. To cross into bulgaria we went over the longest steel railroad bridge in theworld, or something like that. At 2 in the morning we left bulgaria and entered Turkey. On the turkish side, everyone had to leave the train. Then we bought our visas in one line, stood in another line to have our passports stamped and then I got back on the train and went to sleep, only to be woken up by an official checking passports to make sure that everyone on the train had a stamped visa.

We arrived in Istanbul at about 8:30 in the morning. Not having a hostel, I followed Sam to hers. They told us that check in wasn't until 12, but the guy let us take showers, and then leave our luggage. We went to the place that Efdal teaches, and had menemen for breakfast. Not much had changed. It's nice to be back.

Sam was visiting Istanbul on her way to a wedding in Bodrum, so I kind of showed her around that first day. We visited the baazar, and Hasan and Murat. She found some shoes there. Then we walked down the hill to eminonu to get some balik ekmek. Returning back up the hill we stopped at a cafe, and then she went out to meet some friends of a friend. I called Aylin. She said, why aren't you staying with us? and, Nazende is getting married tomorrow morning.

So after that first night in the hostel, I got up early in the morning, and took my stuff on the tram, boat, and bus to get to Aylin's house. That was the last time I am taking all of it on public transportation! Never again will I travel with so much stuff! Although my arms are stronger now. It was great to see Aylin, Kubi and Ali Kaan again. He's four and a half now! I had missed the religious wedding, so was only going to the civil part of it. It was in a building sort of like a town hall. Nazende's dress was beautiful. Cemalnur had designed it. Aylin hadn't told anyone that I was back, so they were all very supprised when I showed up. After the wedding was a lunch, that in usual turkish fasion was a bit chaotic from trying to include everyone. Then later that night was a zikir, a sufi ritual. While I had been to many sermons (sohbets) I had never been to a zikir. I think I was a bit too tired to properly appreciate it though.

2007-08-29T22:50:00.000+03:00

Prague, Czech Republic

I ended up spending a week total in Loket. It was just really hard to leave. The hostel was great, and the people running it, Doug and Bianca were awesome. Bianca found train and bus times for every day trip I did, and then gave me advice about what to do when I got there. After Karlovy Vary, the next day I went to Cheb. Cheb, very close to the German border, used to be full of Germans until they were all expelled after World War II. The old center of town is nice, and the walled monistary garden is really beautiful. My last day trip was to Marianske Lazne, another one of the big spa towns. There were fewer water drinkers, and more people enjoying the beautiful central park and gardens. I could only actually find three of the fountains, the others seemed to be in locked buildings or mislabeled on the map. On the way back I took the train to Karlovy Vary, which was beautiful, although I had a hard time staying awake for the first half of the trip. The czech's really love their gardens.

My last adventure in Loket was going to see a play in the castle courtyard. Normally, theater is pretty easy to go to, but there were only eight of us watching and it turned out to be audience participation. It was a sort of modern version of Don Quijote de la Mancha. I understood the bit that was in spanish, but nothing beyond that. They still had me participating though, and they didn't really seem to get that I had no idea what was going on because I didn't speak czech. At the end we were all standing on stage with our shoes off as don quijote was dying and then we did a collective curtain call and got participation prizes. I guess the play was really funny because everyone else laughed almost the entire time.

After Loket I went to the university town of Olomouc in Moravia. The hostel there was also fantastic. In both hostels when you arrive they show you a map and point out lots of places of interest. I managed to get there in time for the last concert of the street theater festival, but was a bit bummed that I missed the rest of it. There are just too many festivals. While in Olomouc I visited the modern art museum (good photography) and the archdiocese museum (lots of jeweled gold cups and old czech people scolding and telling me things I didn't understand). I had chocolate pie, climbed the tallest tower in town that has a double helix staircase (and then a scary metal staircase) and kept walking through the town square. The town reminded me of prague, but smaller and with almost no tourists. In other words, more like a real place.

Tomorrow I take a bus to budapest at 6:30 in the morning :( and then will take a 36 hour train to Istanbul.

the kindness of strangers

2007-08-21T19:08:00.000+03:00

Loket, Czech Republic

Left Ceske Krumlov hoping to get from there to this tiny town of Loket, in the west of czech republic in one day. Took the train back to Prague, changing once, and then headed off in the direction I thought the bus station was. And, because I'm me, I got lost. Started following random people with suitcases, which didn't work at all. Finally I asked a woman on the street, and she walked me to the local bus stop, told me which bus to get on, to go one stop, and then gave me a ticket. At the stop though, I still couldn't find the station, so I wandered around a lot and asked other people. When I made it there, the guy at the desk told me to take a bus to Sokolov and then change and go to Loket. So I got on the bus, and with the help of the woman sitting next to me got off at Sokolov. When I got there it was 9:30 and very dark and I couldn't figure it out. So I asked another woman for help. Then her friend came out of the pub (conveniently located at the bus station) and they found the platform for me. There was one bus at 10:30, so they invited me into the pub. There, I met Misha, Anetko, her two year old daughter, Peter, Anetko's father, some random guys, and found out the woman I had asked for help was named Simona.

They bought me a beer, and then Misha, who spoke fluent english, and was in a wheel chair or on crutches from a major car accident that had her spend two months in the hospital, and had done a lot of traveling when she was younger, decided that I should come spend the night at her appartment since Simona was already spending the night, and we could drink wine and hang out. And because she seemed nice and it was late I said yes. A bit later we left, Peter pushing Misha's wheelchair, Simona pushing Anetko's stroller, and me carrying the crutch. When we got to their appartment, Peter put Anetko to bed, and then opened the wine. They gave me some yogurt (dinner) and then we sat around talking. Simona wanted to show us her my space page that she had put a lot of time into creating, and then wanted me to edit it for her since she had written it in english. She was visiting Misha so that they could take pictures of her and Anetko so that she can show people her taking care of a child when she applies to be an opear in England. Got to bed really late and ended up sleeping on the floor. Then Anetko woke up at 6:00. Managed to sleep untl about 7:30, and then it was up and out. Misha's dad drove her, me, Simona and Anetko to Loket.

Loket's midevil festival was going on, so they wanted to stay there for the day and hang out at the festival. It was a bit difficult though, because the castle where the festival was occuring was built on a hill in the 12th century and not designed for wheel chairs, so Misha had to spend the entire day on her crutches. It took a couple hours of being in town and multiple rings of the door bell and then a phone call before I could get into the hostel. They had all been out at a concert the night before and were completely out of it. After dropping off my stuff I rejoined Misha, Simona and Anetko at the festival.

The festival was great! There was food (very good, since I had eaten almost nothing for 24 hours), music, people in costumes, stuff to buy, a castle to visit (complete with dungeon and torture chamber). I think one of my favorite things was the festival food. Over the two days I had this pizza like thing - fried bread with ketchup and cheese, a sausage rolled in a tortilla like thing with garlic, a potato pancake with ham and raw onions, a potato pancake topped with sourkraut, a bread bracelet thing with almonds, vanilla and cinamon, and a ginger bread cookie. Grease filled and fantastic. Also saw sword fighting, traditional dancing, the firing of an old musket, and a music group with very quiet bagpipes. There was also a parade, where everyone that was dressed up went through town.

Loket is a very small place. The river curves so much that it's almost on an island, but not quite. Because of that it hasn't really been able to grow at all, and so the town is still the same as it was hundreds of years ago. It also isn't completely full of tourists. Once the festival was over, I was suprised at how quiet the town was.

Today I hiked (and got lost and once again had very nice people helping me) to Karlovy Vary, a spa town that was big a couple hundred years ago. There are about 15 different springs that produce waters of different temperatures. The water had been diverted to fountains around town, and people, often elderly walk around drinking the water out of special china cups that have a sort of straw like thing. The waters are supposed to be healing, and especially good for the digestive system. So I had some, although I was drinking it out of my water bottle. The town is strung out along the river, and the buildings are beautiful. It was built so people could go to spas, drink the water, look at beautiful buildings, breathe the fresh air, and get better. The water is free, but you have to pay for the toilets.

mmm beer

2007-08-21T19:05:00.000+03:00

Ceske Krumlov, Czech Republic

I left prague on tuesday morning for the town of ceske krumlov in southern bohemia. I took the train to the town there the original budwiser is made, and then changed to a very small local train. We went through every little village, and I saw some amazing gardens, as well as some deer and a lot of chopped wood. It seems that people in rural czech republic heat with wood. Ceske Krumlov is a really cute town with an amazing castle and a tower that reminded me a bit of a pastel wedding cake. My first night there I ran into a woman who was born in Tashkent when it was part of the USSR, then moved to the US when jews were given refugee status, and is now working in paris. I had no idea that she spoke russian, and then all of a sudden she started speaking russian to a woman in a shop. The shopkeeper had picked up everything, left the ukraine and opened a shop in the czech republic. She recommended a restaurant to us and had some fish and then fried cheese on salad. Somehow, the lettuce and the fried cheese are supposed to cancel each other out I guess.

The next day I decided to do the hike I had heard some other people talking about, so I searched town for someone who could give me a hiking map, got some bagel sandwiches and headed off, It was a beautiful trip. I started by taking the train three stops, then got off and walked 6 kilometers to the highest hill in the area named klet mountain. It's only 1084 meters tall, so not really a mountain. But someone built a tower at the top and there is a fantastic view of the surrounding country side and lots of small towns. The way back down was about 8 kilometers, and there was some walking at the beginning of the hike, so all in all I think I hiked 14 kilometers. When I got back to the hostel I was going to take a shower and relax, and then discovered there was a keg of good local beer at the hostel and it was free. So I drank lots of beer and talked to a bunch of Australians and some french canadians. Had a veggi burrito for supper and it wasn't bad. I guess its been a comfort food day, bagel sandwiches and burrito.

The next day I went rafting down the vlatava river, the same river that flows through prague. It wasn't very serious rafting, more like floating down the river and occasionally tying up the boat and drinking beer. But it was a lot of fun and I bonded with the people in my raft. I also learned how to play euker (spelling), which is a bit like bridge, but using only half the deck. It seems to work better with four people than six though.

decorating with bones?

2007-08-13T19:02:00.000+03:00

Prague, Czech Republic

Not much to write about really. Prague has been good. It's rained every day since I last wrote, I think. And it's been nice and cool. Some days I've been prepaired. Today I got really wet. The nice thing about the rain is that the streets, especially in the tourist areas become less crowded.

A couple days ago I went to visit the former silver mining town of Kutna Hora. In the 1300s or so, silver was discovered and the resulting city was larger than the london of the time. It was second in importance only to prague. Later, all the silver had been mined and the city shrunk. But not before the miners had paid for an amazing gothic cathedral. Not to be outdone by prague, St. Barabra's cathedral is the biggest or one of the biggest in central europe. I thought the coolest part was the mining guild symbols that were painted on the ceiling.

Kutna Hora is a very picturesque town built around a valley. They also have a nice plague column (giving thanks that the plague of the 1700s was over) and the italian court, a palace that was turned into the mint while Kutna Hora prospered. They day I was there they were having an outdoor concert in the valley, and the group I heard seemed to be an american bluegrass band. It felt out of place.

The main station to Kutna Hora is actually located in Sedlec, an industrial town. I chose to walk from the main station to the historic town. On the way I visited the ossuary in Sedlec. Back in the day dirt was brought back from the holy land and sprinkled there, and after that, all the rich and important people wanted to be burried there. I think they ran out of room, but anyways, they now have 40,000 sets of bones. I guess they were just mounded in the chapel, but in 1870 someone got creative and hired a designer to decorate the inside with bones. It's a very grusome place. One of the main decorations is a chandeler made out of all the bones in the human body. The rest of the bones are piled in six pyramids at the edges of the chapel.

I've also done a lot of walking around Prague. I revisited Charles Bridge, and have been in and out of the old town square more times than I can count. Today I visited a church dedicated to this doll of the baby jesus that's supposed to have amazing healing powers. I also walked along wenceslas square, really more of a very wide street than a square, and around one of the islands in the Vlata river that divides Prague in half. The main way I get around here is by tram. The trams seem to go everywhere. There's also buses, and three metro lines.

Last night I went with Jan's stepdad to the local resturant in their neighborhood. It used to be a place where people exercised and played futbool, built as an effort to increase national identity by sports played together. Now it's a nice outside pub. You can tell it's a local place because .5L of beer is only one dollar. And it's some of the best beer in the world. I had goulash in a bread bowl. Although goulash was originally a hungarian dish, the czechs have also adopted it as one of their national foods. Although it's pretty heavy stuff, I like most czech food that I've had. Especially the dumplings!