E.Turkey

Whew. It's been a helluva journey across Turkey.


I should start by saying that Turkey's bus system is certainly unique. The tickets are slightly pricey, but the buses also have 'flight attendants' that come around to splash detergent in cupped palms. On my first trip (to Istanbul) I was rather vexed by these guys, since the bus was over-sold and I was moved around four times. After all of this, the steward kept waking me up and pointing at my feet. I know now that on Turkish buses, there is No removal of shoes. Anyhow, it may be against Bus-System etiquette to do so, but it's against My etiquette to wake me up all night reminding me. Then flat tire, yadda yadda... not a great trip. At some point I struck upon the right glare that kept the stewards away.

The next trip, to Cappadocia, I tried to get on the good side of the attendants. Turns out that non-trouble makers get more than just hand-sanitizer; cookies, tea, brownies, coffee, all this came my way when I just shut up and sat. Cool. But something is amiss in the Bussing-State of Turkey. I'll come back to that.

I already mentioned a bit about Istanbul. Other than the cabbies, the city is great. Now, if I were to eat lunch in a cafe, I might have found the place rather depressing. Lonely Planet warns against travel during Ramadan for similar reasons. However, I thought the city was magical for just that reason. I already mentioned I'm keeping the Ramadan fast... this may seem odd. But to wait all day to eat, patiently waiting for sundown and the accompanying call to prayer, and then to see the "Bikir il Ramazan" light up amidst cheers of joy from the kids waiting to open up their yogurt; this is special. The long-lines waiting to go into restaurants start to move, the Hippodrome comes to life as a carnival where vendors line the streets and hock every sort of gastronomic delight... really worth it. Some amazing foods, too.

Then I hopped to Cappadoica. I would have never imagined that such a place existed on Earth. The landscape is littered with strange rock formations, some like sand-dunes, some giant "fairy chimneys", all crazy. People have carved out homes in tons of these things, and to this day you can find tons of "Cave hotels" to sleep in. Christians carved out churches and seven-story buildings a couple centuries after Christ, and there are open-air museums of these all around the region. I rented a scooter for like $6 and had a field day. My cave hostel bed was $4. Just awesome.



Then I started my little journey across Eastern Turkey. This was where I got to know how crazy buses are. It took five buses and two days, but I got to see some great stuff on the way. One bus was way oversold, and I was standing in the aisle, squeezed between to round Turks for about 2 hours. Some buses were a few hours late, screwing connections. Madness.

I also stopped in Erzerum, hiked across town to the Otogar (bus station), and then back to find an ATM. 50,000 students in Erzerum. Met a friendly/goofy young Turk on the way into the center. He had spent two months in Albany, so he was elated to chat with me. He showed me a closer ATM, too. I took the opportunity to ask about the foot of snow on the ground, and whether it was a cold-spell. "Oh no no, this is a big heat-spell. 8 degrees? Our winters are always -35 degrees with a meter of snow or more." Cornell students have no right to bitch and moan.

Made my way to Kars and finally Ardahan. The landscape is just amazing, providing you're looking out the side windows of a bus. Those who sit near the front, seeing all the wandering cows the driver is swerving around, might get frayed nerves. I spent the night in Ardahan, and I found a little "hotel"/house to stay in for a few dollars. It was really awful, but the family was very charming. The dad came in after a while, saying something about "Madame, madame, tea!" to which I politely declined. Of course, the guy looked crushed, and I spent a few minutes cursing my Slavic customs (he only asked Once!).

I did wander out, though, just catching the Mom's eye, so I was invited again. Turns out there were two daughters about my age all dressed up out there. Hmm. Anyhow, turns out they were Georgians, so I had a pear and a chat 'po-russki'. Nice, nice folks. My bed didn't last the whole night, but after the collapse I found evidence that it wasn't a new problem. I put on a pitiful pout and said to the first person I could find "too many kebap," so they all had a good laugh and found me a new bed.

Caught the 10am bus to Tbilisi, which took four hours to the border. There were four passengers; myself and three older ladies. The Georgian border guards were all rather slovenly, unkempt, and wearing a mish-mash of uniforms and random warm garments. As I was approaching (the crossing is done on foot), my fellow passengers said something to a guard about the American, to which he replied, "ahh hah, tourista". He then said something about speaking Georgian, to which I replied in Russian. He looked surprised, and then spent a few minutes looking at the stamps in my passport. He finally gave an approving nod and said, "Touristo". I was rather flattered by the amendment.

Anyhow, this was about 1500 local time. The bus then moved on to Tbilisi... on rural "roads". I think the ride on a dirt path would have been smoother; the crumbling Brezhnev-era highway we were driving on felt more like Roman Ruins. This is without mentioning the 7ft. width or the animals/crazy-tractor-driver adornments. We stopped around 20:00 to eat, and though I read for a while (I had no local currency), I was invited over by the gang to join in. I accepted some bread, but I also didn't refuse the two shots of Cha-cha (you don't refuse drinks in Georgia). This local fire-water has a very pleasant taste, and goes down smooth, but just these two shots got me very tipsy. Then I realized my drinking partner was the bus driver.

Anyhow, we finally made it into Tbilisi around 22:00 (yeah, look at the distance on a map... redic), and I crashed at the "Bus Station Hotel". The name was probably the most elegant thing about it. It was only four bucks or so for the night, but some of my pads with homeless folks at train stations have been more comfortable. Indeed, it was empty; I think the homeless shelter across the road is nicer.

So I'm off to explore the city, get visas, and find out if the Philharmonic is playing. I'll upload some shots soon. Love yall.

Istanbul

This is my second day in Istanbul. The city is nice, but I spent a good amount of time hunting around for the Georgian consulate. I finally grabbed a taxi this morning to head over to the suspected location, harboring a bit of doubt after the last taxi-episode. Everything seemed to be going well until the driver pointed at a hotel and not-so-slickly pressed some buttons on the meter. Within a few minutes, my fare had quadrupled. I kindly asked why he had played with my fare, and he backed down with "Okay, okay! Ten lira." I was cool with this since it was less than what had been on the been on the meter before tampering. So when getting out, I hand him the only bill I have, a fifty lira note (about $36), and before my very eyes, the bill transforms into a Fiver. "Nono, the fare is ten, this only five!"

Well now. Twice; shame on me.

So despite my usual good-nature, I summoned all the rage that my Kern Viking Blood has blessed me with, and let out a mighty bellow. The guy looks like he's going to mess himself, and he hands back the fifty. I then offered a few words on how his "tomfoolery has made it evident that my conscience will not suffer from my withholding payment" (rough translation). Just before slamming the door, however, I'm sure to throw in a "Don't Mess with Texas." I don't want to hurt the reputation of Decent Americans.

Anyhow, after another hour or so tracking down the Georgian consulate, I finally find it and inquire about a visa.

"Which national?"
"American."
"No visas for American."

I'm stunned, crushed for a moment. This could put a kink in plans. Finally I muster the courage to ask why.

"Because now we good friends!"

Ahh! Praise be unto Allah! No visas required for Americans. So I thanked the guy, skipped out, and floated for the rest of the afternoon. Checked out the Grand Bazaar, Blue Mosque, and Hagia Sofia. Really great stuff here.

On my way I also stopped in a rug shop after a guy gave me a guided tour of the Blue Mosque (hey, a pity request to view his rugs is a pretty cheap price). A few days ago, however, I had spent a bit of time chatting with a merchant (who also happened to run my hostel) about rugs. So at this new place, when the merchants started their show, I asked about the price of a certain rug. $1400. I then ask why it's so much, being an Afghan chemical-dyed nylon-blend. The two salesmen look at eachother for a moment, and one finally replies, "sixty dollars." That's it. No demo, no haggling, no apple-tea. Do any readers want me to pick up something on their behalf?

Anyhow, sun is setting, so I'm off to breakfast. I'm working on pictures. Sit tight.





P.S. They just found bird-flu in Turkey. I've come to the conclusion that I'm a carrier. It seems that everywhere I go, they find it. That whole central-China thing? Yeah, they found the dead birds the day I visited Qinghai lake. Just watch, next it'll be Greece.

Greece and Ephesus

Ahh, where'd I leave off?

Oh, Athens. Athens is Athens. The historical sights are amazing, the food is great, the museums make others look like collections of curios. As far as modern cities go, however, I wouldn't compare Athens with Rome, lest we disappoint the Greeks. Prices were a bit higher than I had expected, even in October there were throngs of tourists, and the non-ancient architecture was less than amazing.

But still, I dare not harp on this city that gave civilization so much. Philosophy, drama, some fine architecture... but then again, judging from the Athenian female population, the Greeks also invented the ugly-stick.

The food was really amazing, though. I had a blast trying new Greek dishes, but for some reason (perhaps the 1.50euro pricing) I always capped off a meal with a Gyro. These, for those who aren't familiar, are the evil snacks that I discovered shortly before gaining 30lbs between fifth and sixth grade. No matter, though; I'm keeping the Ramadan fast to compensate.

After Athens I hopped a ferry for Santorini (Thira). I've always been amazed when seeing postcards of the white homes with blue detail, but I was in for a treat. Santorini, or Thira, was once just a giant volcano in the middle of the sea, until it got pissed at the civilizations that made it their home (though I doubt that included the Atlantians as the Thira Tourism Bureau will tell you) and blew up. So now, the Greeks have a giant sunken volcano, with a caldera, a crescent isle of rocky cliffs, and thousands of tourists. Anyhow, cool stuff.

I spent one night on the remote side of the island, having successfully bargained a good price, but in turn getting the room with a gas leak. The olive groves and pool were lovely, though. I then grabbed a bus up to Fira, the Postcard City. It was gorgeous. Sure, the prices were outrageous and Sols and Ednas seemed to be falling from the sky, but somehow I managed. Although my room's rate was listed as 50euro, I managed to get it for ten. I guess the generous hotellier took pity on the fact I wasn't a retired dentist.

From there I made a rather crazy island-hop to get to Rhodes, where despite my search, I could find no colossus. Perhaps my travel guide is out of date; so much for Pausanias. The island of Rhodes is quite cool, though, with huge city walls and some other medieval hints of its Crusader-stopover past.

This was also the first place I've had trouble getting into a museum; everywhere in Greece entrance fees are 12euro, unless you're an EU student/fogie (six euro) or under twenty (free!). I asked a ticket guy for the Junior's ticket, and presented him my passport (standard procedure everywhere), which he then proceeded to inspect closely. He finally handed it back, saying, "It looks like... a passport." I couldn't tell if he was serious, so I didn't know whether to use the 'dumb-' prefix or '-hole' suffix.

Anyhow, finally made it up to Turkey, hopped a coach from Marmaris to Selcuk, and I've been here (Selcuk/Efes) since. Very cool. Behind my hostel/rug-shop is the Tomb of St. Paul. In front of that is one of the Seven Wonders of the World, the Temple of Artemis (though now it's only one column in the middle of a field). Up the road, the ancient ruins of Ephesus lay scattered over a huge area. The facade of the library has been rebuilt, and it's very impressive. It's also nice to know that during the Roman times, there was a tunnel under the library that led to the local brothel. All the wives were proud when their men became such avid readers.

There's also a huge amphitheater nearby where many ancient artists, including Sting and Elton John have performed.

Then, up the hill, we have the Virgin Mary's retirement home. Though the details of how the place was found seem a bit sketchy (came to some German chick in a vision), the authenticity of the site was confirmed by Pope someone the something. It is really cool to see the place where Mary lived out her days and passed on.

Of course, getting up there was a pain in the ass. Though I mentioned a hill, it's actually seven kilometers up a mountain, so there was no way I was walking up there. I normally don't take cabs, but I caved when I finally found one with a meter. As it turns out, the meter jumped by thirty cents every six cents, so it ended up being WAY too much. Then, even as I was trying to get the cabbie to stop at the entrance to the park, he drives into the gate so I can get hit with a "vehicle entrance fee" of another ten bucks. Wow. So, I paid the guy, and tried my best to cool down before visiting such a holy place. I finally decided that a walk down the mountain would do me some good (great views), but halfway down the mountain, this cabbie comes roaring down, telling me that I owe him 25 lira since he had been waiting for me! This guy had balls. Finally I just turned to keep going and this guy starts shouting after me, "I get police on you!! They take you to prison! HAVE NOT YOU SEE MIDNIGHT EXPRESS???"

I thought it was hilarious too. Thanks for sticking with me.

I'm off to Istanbul tonight. More soon.









P.S. They're rebuilding the Acropolis. That only took, what, 400 years? I don't think I'll criticize Boston again any time soon.

Albania

Well, I'm here to tell my friends about my new favourite corner of the globe: Albania.

"Ahh! But John, isn't that one of the poorest countries on Earth? Isn't their main import drug money, their main export efficient organized-crime circles??"

Perhaps these may be so. Perhaps the country is so poor that 38% of Albanians have never owned a Mercedes. Perhaps the crime circles are so rich that new, gorgeous buildings are popping up all over the country. Perhaps the government is so nuts that the megalomaniac mayor of Tirane spends public funds to paint the entire city in Pastels. So, what of it?


Indeed, it's the foibles we think charming. Ask any American voter. So this interesting little land, going through a boom-time right now, although with a complete lack of tourists, is ripe for adventuring. True, I found ATMs and internet cafes, which the Lonely Planet said didn't exist, but this is likely because there hasn't been a LP researcher here for a few years. When people inquired and learned that I was from NY or the USA, they gave me this curious look that I should have expected if I had said "Ancient Persia."

And of course, prices came down to normal levels as I got to know the locals; while the first cup of coffee might be $1, the following cup, along with a full lunch, was also $1. This might be expected in a land where the value of your camera slightly exceeds the Per Capita GDP.

However, the Per Capita Mercedes ownership might not be, as I mentioned previously. Indeed it seems only every fourth car didn't sport the tri-point. I asked a few folks about this; some extolled the reliability of the brand, some just pointed to the greasy guys in ugly sunglasses sunk in their brand new M-class MobMercs, and I even got a neat story about why most car insurance is no longer valid in Albania. My informant explained that a popular Italian past-time was to drive an older Benz down, vacation, "persuade" cops to fill out a Theft report, sell the car at half-price, and then have insurance fork out another car. True or no, interesting.

So after some time in Tirane, it was time for me to move south to Gjirokaster, and for my mate Tom, north to Bosnia. Since the tourist infrastructure is nonexistent, a traveler has two options; go with the locals to the dirt-mound called a bus-stop, or fly First-class with the other locals. Still, our mound didn't have the buses we needed. But in the process of tooling around with confused looks, an older guy came over to help us get to where we needed to go. He led us around to the agencies we would have never found, and got us all the information we needed to know.

Of course, he didn't speak English.

So the travel companies give him the info in Albanian, he relays this to Tom in bad Italian or French and myself in bad German or Russian. Tom and I listen with bad Italian/French/German/Russian, and then confer in order to piece together what we need. Perhaps the guy did actually speak English, because the scene would have been worth the laugh.

This guy finally got us around to the various dirt-mounds from whence our buses left, Tom's from the side of a cafe, mine from behind a suburban gas-station. Before I said farewell to this Samaritan, he revealed that he was actually an off-duty cop. Wow.

So I was on the bus, free to relax and start the book I brought along. Of course, behind me was a friendly couple who was eager to chat with the one blonde kid in the country. They patiently waited until I took breaks from reading, so as not to interrupt, but of course (just my luck) I had traded Tom my LP and phrasebook before we had parted. So, completely dumb, I did my best with gestures and my atlas. This was all rather easy until they got curious as to what I was so wrapped up in reading (they saw "Alexander" and thought it was a book about 'the Great'). So, I ended up doing a pantomime of the first 170 pages of Count of Monte Cristo, attracting the attention of many of the other passengers. When I finally finished, I was implored to keep going, since I left them at a cliff hanger (or perhaps a cliff tosser). One guy seemed to be cursing the bus, since it didn't have lights for me to continue reading, but it was still all smiles. I had a fun time. It seems there's no surer a place to make friends or enemies than public transport.

When I finally got into Gjirokaster, a family found me (and led me to) a much cheaper and closer hotel than I had been thinking of. Very cool. I then hiked around the hills of this old city, climbed up to the 6th century castle, and generally had a good time. Of course, once I found the appropriate cafe-stop and inquired as to my bus to Athens, I learned that "Buses three days a week" means "Friday, Saturday, Sunday." So, I settled in, read, climbed to the castle again, took more photos, took Turkish coffee. Rinse, Repeat.

Anyhow, after exploring the lovely town in a lovely country with some of the friendliest people I've ever met, I was off. Sure there were the low points, like getting backed over by a car or slipping into some poisonous bushes, but I'm an optimist. So it was off to Athens, on a bus full of friendly, curious Albanians. Rinse, Repeat.

So I've been in Athens for a few, now. The ride down was gorgeous, and we took a ferry across to the Peloponnese and crossed to Athens at Corinth. Modern Athens can't compare to modern Rome, but the ancient sites are still amazing. They would also be twelve euro to enter if I was older than 19, but since I came at the right age, they're all free. Ahh. So I've just been tooling around here, seeing the sights and getting my fill of museums, grabbing some gyros and hunting for old coins. Worth it, indeed. I'm off to Santorini this afternoon.

Love yall.

Monasteries and Macedonia

It's been a rather interesting month or however long since my last post.


After Romania, I made it into Sofia, Bulgaria, where I soon stopped asking 'yes or no' questions. Many have heard that Bulgarians nod their heads for 'no' and shake their heads for 'yes', but now, many will do just the opposite for tourists, leaving us entirely baffled. Sofia was cool, though, and the weather was nice enough. In addition to witnessing some random military parade, I stumbled upon one of the more regular features of the city: a giant trinket-market. I found this market to be special for its goods, which might be explained by history and tourism levels. History because Bulgaria was allied with Germany during WWII, and tourism levels since... well, who the hell goes to Bulgaria? So anyhow, the stalls are filled with old Nazi stuff that would have already been snapped up in more visited destinations. Crazy.

The hostel in Sofia was great, as well. In addition to providing guests with two free meals a day (wha??), it's a very social place where I just happened to run into a guy that I toured Vilnius with, as well as a guy from Bozeman, MT (Big Sky boarder). Odd. Along with an Aussie named Tom, we headed off to Rila Monastery, up in the hills of Bulgaria. Purty. There were almost as many tourists as stray dogs, though. The scenery was pretty amazing, but I realized that it still wasn't as nice as the hills at Home. Hmm.

Anyhow, I traded out books and got ready to move on to Macedonia. Aussie Tom was also on his way there, so we latched. Skopje was an interesting city, with a giant cross that lit up on the mountainside at night. Just the kind of thing that might not fly in Alabama, today. Or maybe it might.


After a day in the capital, Tom and I caught a train down to Prilep, in the middle of Macedonia. We dropped our bags at a hostel, got our day-packs and boots, and headed off to the outskirts of town. About 10k from the city, high atop a local mountain, lies Treskavic Monastery. The hike up was amazing. The views were amazing. The monastery... empty. The only sounds to be heard up there were the wind and the rustling of grass. Occasionally, a goat's bell broke the silence. Tom and I climbed the peak just behind the monastery, got some photos, and came down to find the Monk/Father/Priest who keeps the place going.


We were welcomed to stay the night (gratis), and only later in the evening did we run into some other folks who came up to stay the weekend. Our fellow guests were five Macdedonians, who, after introductions, seemed to live pretty normal lives. After thrice declining offers of a giant bag of ganja, however, more of the truth came out about their line of work. So, due partly to their knowledge of English being limited to a small field, we spent some time talking about the drug trade in the region. Interesting.

It was when I started reading the Palahniuk I brought that I realized the odd mixture of the day. A spiritual haven, Drug dealers, and a book about Black Magic. Hmm. Still, the monastery was just incredible, easily the highlight of this whole trip so far.

So, now we're in Ohrid, on the shores of a great lake in southern Macedonia. Gorgeous indeed. Tonight we're off to Tirana, and along with ATMs, internet cafes do not exist in Albania. It might be a few days, so hang tight.