Reprinted from http://www.burningmanseattle.com/stories-about-burning-man... It could be a copyright violation in the real world, in theory, but there are no such legalities in the world of Burning Man! Besides, it's absolutely hilarious... and strangely true!# Tear down your house. Put it in a truc... Read MoreReprinted from http://www.burningmanseattle.com/stories-about-burning-man... It could be a copyright violation in the real world, in theory, but there are no such legalities in the world of Burning Man! Besides, it's absolutely hilarious... and strangely true!
# Tear down your house. Put it in a truck. Drive 10 hours in any direction. Put the house back together. Invite everyone you meet to come over and party. When they leave, follow them back to their homes, drink all their booze, and break things. # Pay an escort of your affectional preference subset to not bathe for five days, cover themselves in glitter, dust, and sunscreen, wear a skanky neon wig, dance close naked, then say they have a lover back home at the end of the night. # Stack all your fans in one corner of the living room. Put on your most fabulous outfit. Turn the fans on full blast. Dump a vacuum cleaner bag in front of them. # Buy a new set of expensive camping gear. Break it. # Only use the toilet in a house that is at least 3 blocks away. Drain all the water from the toilet. Only flush it every 3 days. Hide all the toilet paper. # Set your house thermostat so itâ??s 50 degrees for the first hour of sleep and 100 degrees the rest of the night. # Before eating any food, drop it in a sandbox and lick a battery. # Mail $200 to the Reno casino of your choice. # Make a list of all the things youâ??ll do different next year. Never look at it. # Search alleys untill you find a couch so unbelievably tacky and nasty filthy that a state college frat house wouldnâ??t want it. Take a nap on the couch and sleep like you are king of the world. # Shop at Wal-mart, Cost-Co, and Home Depot until your car is completely packed with stuff. Tell everyone that youâ??re going to a "Leave-No-Trace" event. Empty your car into a dumpster. # Spend thousands of dollars and several months of your life building a deeply personal art work. Hide it in a funhouse on the edge of the city. Hire people to come by and alternate saying "I love it" and "this sucks balls". Blow it up. # Cut, burn, electrocute, bruise, and sunburn various parts of your body. Forget how you did it. Donâ??t go to a doctor. # Walk around your neighborhood and knock on doors until someone offers you cocktails and dinner. # "Downsize" last yearâ??s camp by adding two geodesic domes, a new sound system, art car, and 20 newbies. # Lean back in a chair until that point where youâ??re just about to fall over, but you catch yourself at the last moment. Hold that position for 9 hours. # Donâ??t sleep for 5 days. Take a wide variety of hallucinogenic/emotion altering drugs. Pick a fight with your boyfriend/girlfriend. # Set up a DJ system downwind of a three alarm fire. Play a short loop of drumâ??n'bass until the embers are cold. # Have a 3 a.m. soul baring conversation with a drag nun in platforms, a crocodile and Bugs Bunny. Be unable to tell if youâ??re hallucinating. Lust after Bugs Bunny. # Spend a whole year rummaging through thrift stores for the perfect, most outrageous costume. Forget to pack it. # Read "Dhalgren" by Samuel R. Delany. Read "The City Not Long After" by Pat Murphy. Cut off the bindings, throw all the pages up in the air, and shuffle them back together. Reread "The City After Dhalgren" by Samuel Murphy. Burn it. Read the ashes. # Listen to music you hate for 168 hours straight, or until you think you are going to scream. Scream. Realize youâ??ll love the music for the rest of your life. # Spend 5 months planning a "theme camp" like itâ??s the invasion of Normandy. Spend Monday-Wednesday building the camp. Spend Thurs-Sunday nowhere near camp because youâ??re sick of it or canâ??t find it. # Bust your ass for a "community." See all the attention get focused on the drama queen crybaby. # Get so drunk you canâ??t recognize your own house. Walk slowly around the block for 5 hours. # Tell your boss you arenâ??t coming to work this week but he should "gift" you a paycheck anyway. When he refuses accuse him of not loving the "community". # Ask your most annoying neighbor to interrupt your fun several times a day with third hand gossip about every horrible thing thatâ??s happened in the last 24 hours. Have them wear khaki. # Go to a museum. Find one of Salvador Daliâ??s more disturbing, but beautiful paintings. Climb inside it.
Posted by Alex on Wednesday, September 22, 2010
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Previously, we learned just what happens to that dear 'ol school bus, which used to take you to school in the morning, after its job is given to a newer, younger, hipper version. The workaholics continue to ply their trade in South and Central America (sometimes dying there); others are committed to... Read MorePreviously, we learned just what happens to that dear 'ol school bus, which used to take you to school in the morning, after its job is given to a newer, younger, hipper version. The workaholics continue to ply their trade in South and Central America (sometimes dying there); others are committed to continuing education, so they end up in South Dakota's Custer State Park, teaching tourists about Crazy Horse; the beach bums will go run their own surf camps in Costa Rica, and the ones who just can't let go of the adrenaline rush, join the Demolition Derby in places like Monroe.
Are there other options? Why, yes - some really are artists and hippies at heart, and they've got a place to call home in retirement too: Black Rock City in the Nevada desert! At least for one week out of the year they do anyway...
The Reel Mobile - we be jamming out on the Playa
The Space Bus - honestly, this one looks too much like a normal bus to be here!
On the way to San Francisco - can't tell if this was an Art Car or just somebody's way to transport everything to and from, but definitely a Burning Man vehicle!
Well, actually there was just one more last stop - after Burning Man, I chose not to return straight to Seattle, instead I headed to San Francisco for a couple of days of recuperationLooking happy, but exhausted, dusty... mind blown; want sleep, need showerNow, San Francisco is beautiful, it's excit... Read MoreWell, actually there was just one more last stop - after Burning Man, I chose not to return straight to Seattle, instead I headed to San Francisco for a couple of days of recuperation
Looking happy, but exhausted, dusty... mind blown; want sleep, need shower
Now, San Francisco is beautiful, it's exciting - it's full of interesting places to see, fascinating people to meet, I've got a bunch of friends living there...
View onto San Francisco from the bay
The iconic Transamerica Pyramid defines the San Francisco skyline
And as a result, this wasn't going to be my first time in San Francisco - most recently I'd been here just about a year ago, on my great railroad journey up the Pacific Coast. So between being relatively familiar with the place, and still trying re-integrate myself into the real world, I didn't particularly feel like playing tourist was to be my primary goal here - it fit in safely somewhere right behind resting/showering/catching my breath and meeting up with friends. However, by Day 2, I was feeling mildly recovered (physically anyway - mind remained a bit cloudy for at least another week), and the little tourist voice in the back of my head started singing its song again... it actually just kept saying one word over and over: Alcatraz!
The Rock! It may be the best know of San Francisco's attractions, and I'd kept missing it on each of the previous visits
Not sure how much I need to say about Alcatraz - it's only the most famous (and infamous) of American prisons, and it was in operation for a mere 29 years (1934-1963). It housed some of the most famous and notorious convicts of its day - starting with Al Capone back in the 30's. Noone is known to have successfully escaped. If you are curious to learn more, I recommend a trip to San Francisco and a visit to the Rock - the audio tour gives you a pretty good account of the island's history, including the times before, after, and of course, during its time as a Federal prison. The tour is quite well put together, and I actually found the narrative a lot more interesting than most audio guides of this sort. Some things I knew (life in America's most secure prison wasn't a whole lot of fun, but nobody is known to have successfully escaped), some I suspected (the island started life as a fortification for the San Francisco Bay back in the mid-19th century), and some I'd been completely oblivious of (The Rock was a site of an intense native American protest back in the 70's, lasting over a year, and while the Native Americans failed to get custody of Alcatraz, the incident did, apparently, accelerate the programs to transfer more tribal lands back to their original, tribal owners... who have since proceeded to erect gleaming, shining casinos on said tribal lands... but I digress...).
So, as I said, if you want the full history of the place, I recommend a visit, or you can at least start with the wikipedia page. I'll just do pictures and highlights of what I saw:
The main penitentiary building was a large, if fairly bleak-looking structure
Life inside was, well, rather spartan
I had chosen to spend my second day of recovery in San Francisco at a four star hotel downtown. The inmates here got a 5x9 foot cell, including a toilet, a sink, a table, and a cot
Even the lighthouse on Alcatraz somehow looks dramatic! It could just be dramatic bits I remember from The Rock, the movie (does it seem like Sean Connery's career is coming up a lot on the blog?)
The man's watching you! Did I mention noone had successfully escaped? There were inmates who had made it to the fence (and were promptly shot for their troubles). Others had made it all the way to the water (and drowned). I think there are two whose whereabouts are unknown - presumed drowned... or escaped to South America!
These days, Alcatraz is actually the domain of the National Park service, which surprised me, as there's not much of a park here. They do maintain and protect the Rock's greenery, and apparently the island is an important nesting habitat for several species of birds in the Bay...
All in all, I spent about three hours on the island, roaming about, taking in the narrative, observing the very multi-cultured collection of tourists on the island, and watching the weather undergo a dramatic transformation from standard Bay Area gray to sunny, with dramatic blue skies. By 6, I was back in the comforts of my hotel, living the high life some more - they provide a Napa Valley wine tasting every evening... but still somewhat in between the dusty mirage of Black Rock City (most of my clothes still covered in a thick layer of dust) and the real world (I did have a wonderful shower, and was excited to be less than 24 hours away from being back home in Seattle). That evening, I went out to meet Eric and Kristine for dinner nearby
And documented said encounter using the camera on my iPhone... which left quite a bit to be desired in terms of photo quality
The following morning, it was time to complete the last leg of the journey and fly back to Seattle... or so went the plan anyway. I examined my tickets again in the morning - they definitely said I was departing from the Oakland airport at 1 PM. I should arrive an hour early... I checked the BART schedules - it would take an hour to get there. I should also get some lunch beforehand - there's this great little sushi boat restaurant just nearby in Union Square... mmm, sushi. Well, somewhere in the middle of all that, my mind clearly flipped back into Burning Man mode, where time doesn't exist (and I avoided wearing a watch as much as I could) and an hour was lost. Because if your flight's at 1, you should be at the airport 12, and so, you should get on the subway at 11. Instead, I scouted out a train schedule for leaving the city at 12 and settled in for lunch at 11... Lunch was delicious! And at 11:45, I arrived back in my room, stared at my ticket, then at the clock, then at the ticket some more... forced brain to do some basic math... Oh Fuck! Well, the subway/bus was going to get me there in an hour for about $7, time to see how a $70 taxi will do! I told the concierge I needed a taxi to the Oakland airport. He went outside, rounded up a taxi, and told the driver to take me to the airport... Note the slight discrepancy there... Starting to drive towards the San Francisco airport instead of Oakland cost another ten minutes, which I didn't really have... Finally, we pulled up at the Oakland terminal at about 12:35. At least the ride was interesting - the driver had been in Vietnam during the war, as a civilian contractor and had fascinating stories from the time that he was getting published... He also complained about all the Pakistani cab drivers in the Bay Area... I chimed in complaining about the drivers in general all over India. We had a good rapport... and then I paid and took off on a dead run into the airport. Skipping the details, but I made my flight with, oh about 2 minutes to spare. How my bags managed to get onboard, I have no idea, but there they were looking at me on the carousel back in Seattle, just as I was asking the Southwest claims agent whether or not he thought they'd be on the next flight... So, all in all, disaster averted - delicious lunch eaten, interesting conversation with a cab driver had, and Seattle successfully reached! Just a bit of stress mixed in along the way...
Burning Man defies explanation - I feel words will absolutely, utterly fail to do it justice. Trying to get a grasp on it, without having gone, pictures will only mislead and confuse - the place is simply too enormous, too vast, too diverse to capture in any photograph. But, it is absolutely amazing... Read MoreBurning Man defies explanation - I feel words will absolutely, utterly fail to do it justice. Trying to get a grasp on it, without having gone, pictures will only mislead and confuse - the place is simply too enormous, too vast, too diverse to capture in any photograph. But, it is absolutely amazing. From the setting in the middle of a hot, barren, and foreboding Nevada desert, to all the very, very different people who come to witness it, to all the amazing and ridiculous art installations, and to its final culmination on Saturday and Sunday nights when the Man and the Temple burn - no matter where you turn, where you look, you never fail to be surprised, to see something downright amazing, never-failingly absolutely unique going on.
Just a few of the things that happened in Black Rock City - in no particular order, in no way suggesting that these are special, this is just what is likely to happen to you at Burning Man - normal parts of 'every day life' here, which make the place as unique and amazing as it is. I watched water burn, I rode a mutant city bus with a large ship installed on top of it, I walked a tight rope, I was shocked by one Joule of energy, which I had myself generated, I stripped off my clothes to do a dance in exchange for an early morning mimosa, I watched people fight in the ThunderDome, I climbed a tower that would've been deemed exceedingly dangerous to be climbed anywhere outside of Black Rock City, I found the fence in the middle of the night, then walked along it looking for corners, finally finding a movie theater in the middle of the desert, and settling in to watch the sun rise at a nearby bus stop ... where an hour later, a bus came by to pick us up, delivering the happiest moment of the week. I slept for an average of three hours a night, I inhaled an inordinate amount of dust from the air every day, I didn't shower, I watched my deodorant actually melt... I was ready to leave when Sunday rolled around, yet I was eager to go back as soon as we were confronted with civilization outside of Black Rock City. I felt free, unrestrained and happy the whole time there! I hung out with some of the most wonderful and interesting people you'll find anywhere on this planet...
We arrived late Tuesday night after a full day drive from Portland, Oregon. Our driver, the dominatrix (yes, that is her actual profession... seemed completely natural, unsurprising, and downright par for the course for this place) pulled up to the gate, presented all of our tickets and shared that she had two BM virgins on board - Laurie and I marched out, feeling just a little bewildered, each rang the gong, then proceeded to roll around in the dust, making a Playa angel and becoming one with the environment. A gigantic yellow moon hung low over us looking in on the spectacle, as an hour long cavalcade of cars was lining up for entry - on Sunday night, the wait had been six grueling hours(!). We found a parking spot on the outskirts of the sprawling Metropolis and wandered into the heart of town. Kyoto street to the center actually felt a lot closer than I had imagined, then rational thoughts ceased to be formed - we rode the Surly Bird around the Playa, passing a brightly lit Butterfly car and a preening Prey Mantis showing off the incredible detail its designers had dedicated to it. We saw The Man, holding its high and central position over the Playa. Laurie and I, the virgins, quietly tried to take it all in - I was absorbing the spectacle slowly, rationally, not feeling overwhelmed just yet, simply finding the scene around us astounding, ridiculous, bewildering. By the time we returned to the RV and went to sleep at 3 in the morning, the crowds had not thinned out at all, the music had not quieted down a single decibel, and the bright, screaming lights in the middle of this desert, a completely desolate piece of land for 51 out of the 52 weeks of the year, did not dim one bit.
The following morning, our happy Portland RV crew split up and we each went to our respective camps. I found Camp Caribbean, met Irina, proceeded to set up my tent ... which suddenly seemed awfully insufficient to house me and all of my things... a week's worth of food, water, clothing, and more. Irina and I headed off to explore the Metropolis in day light - and now, it really begins to blow your mind - there was just too much going on all around! The center of the Playa was closer than I had expected, but the encampment seemed to sprawl forever all around it. The landscape was dotted with insane art cars, incomprehensible, yet often gorgeous, art pieces ... camps that had their own decorations, their own entertainment options, their own food and drink, all of which they were ready to share with you. There's no money on the Playa - you bring things and you share them with the rest of the Black Rock City population, freely and happily. And in the end, free and happy were the strongest emotions that were on display here - you can do anything you want and you, and everyone around you, will be happy about it!
The Paradox in the desert - late Saturday night, the Man was set to burn! The biggest party in this week of partying over-indulgence, and its biggest oxymoron - we had all gathered to camp in this wild and desolate place, supplying all of our own food, water, power, garbage collection, and on this night, 50,000 people had gathered in the middle of the Playa, looking up at The Man, and surrounded by all the sites and sounds of civilization that you should never expect out here! The Man was surrounded by a ring of Art Cars, their music blaring loudly, their lights shining brightly, the drinks on board flowing freely. It was the one party that brought all of us together, making us feel like we weren't in the wild desert at all, but instead at an ornate celebration of our freedom, our freedom to incinerate the very symbol of the place that we had all come to see. Then the fireworks went off, blanketing the statue in their high-tech trails, making you forget about the desert setting that much more, until the flames were unleashed, and leapt up towards the statue, bringing with them a sense of wild nature here in the middle of the night on the Playa; consuming the giant statue in a matter of twenty minutes. The following night, the Temple followed the Man in its fiery course... but the Temple is the spiritual centerpiece of the Playa, and the setting was dramatically different - the Art Cars still patrolled in the background, but the sound systems were off, the lights subdued, the crowds relatively quiet... right up until the last of the Temple tumbled down onto the pile of ashes and glowing ambers, and a primal scream was unleashed... And then we got up and headed back for our camps and vehicles as it was time to leave. For those staying the night, the City remained vibrantly awash in light and sound, drawing in anyone still with the strength and endurance for another night of mayhem.
And finally, Evone, Steve, and I were in our U-Haul truck heading out of the City and on through the night towards San Francisco. Passing the entrance gates in short order, and then, thrust into a continuous traffic jam waiting, struggling to get back onto the paved roads, almost as if the real world was balking at letting us back in. For the three of us it went something like this: we'd pull up to the car in front of us and stop, waiting for it to move again. Which it would do some five to ten minutes later. Which was plenty of time for all three of us to fall asleep. Now, there would be some hundred feet of open dirt between us and the car ahead and either Evone would wake up first and get us up there, or one of Steve and I would wake up, nudge Evone, and we'd go. Rinse and repeat for some three hours until we finally hit the highway and were able to continuously move again, which seemed to help keep Evone focused and awake (while letting Steve and I simply pass out). The Denny's stop in Reno at 4:30 in the morning (along with every other car that had left Black Rock City that night) was a God-send!
Overall, what can I say about the Burning Man experience? In some ways, it did meet some of my expectations - I'm not entirely comfortable dealing with large crowds of people, and being thrust into a crowd of [mostly] strangers, fifty thousand strong, was a bit of a shock. On the other hand, in a lot of ways it exceeded a lot of my expectations - the over-riding feeling I got from everyone there was that of being happy and free, which was amazing, and made it easy and comfortable to get along with these thousands of happy and free strangers. The art, I also hadn't expected (how could you, really!?) - there's so much of of it ... everywhere and all around, it's incredible, astoundingly detailed and brilliantly designed, and all marvelously well fitting with the theme of the Metropolis (the Playa art tour was one of my favorite experiences of the week). As for all the expected downsides - the dust, the heat, the cold at night, the lack of showers? This didn't really register - maybe it was the lack of sleep (leading to lack of focus... or was it the alcohol that led to the constant lack of focus?), maybe I was just used to harsh conditions from places like Mongolia, Egypt, Nepal, Bolivia, etc, but I was able to take the harsh environment in stride... Not to say that I enjoyed the harshness of it - the first shower back in the real world, upon reaching San Francisco, felt like the most wonderful, healing, relaxing, profoundly existential experience, but, while there, I felt I could handle the intense conditions the desert threw at us. So, will there be a sequel next year? Much too early to tell - I'm intrigued about going back into that foreboding environment, meeting again the amazing people I had met this year, and finding more new ones... Then again, I might actually have a real job by next year, so will I be able to just take a week off? Will I want to go through the nightmare of logistics and planning again? What about the dust, heat, desolation, etc... conditions were actually far milder than normal this year? I don't know yet - I made up mind to go all of two weeks prior to the start this year, I'll probably let it go just about that long again next year!
Pictures... They still certainly fail to put anything into proper perspective, but that didn't keep me from taking lots of them. Instead of posting a bunch here, I'll just redirect you to the two photo albums already up on Facebook:
I was going to write up a post about the baseball games I got to see a while ago, but then I forgot, then some more time passed, and here we are now, with me getting back to it: baseball, the great American Pastime! Not quite as great (or popular) as the NFL these days perhaps, but a nice relaxing w... Read MoreI was going to write up a post about the baseball games I got to see a while ago, but then I forgot, then some more time passed, and here we are now, with me getting back to it: baseball, the great American Pastime! Not quite as great (or popular) as the NFL these days perhaps, but a nice relaxing way to spend an evening or an afternoon.
I've been to a good number of baseball games before - from San Diego to Seattle to Philadelphia to a lot of places in between (The new Giants Stadium in San Francisco is the best. Though Seattle's very own Safeco Field is up there too), but I had never seen either of the two oldest, venerable, most famous stadiums in the major leagues: Boston's Fenway Park, where the Red Sox play, and Wrigley Field, on the North side of Chicago, home of the green ivy and your favorite lovable losers, the Cubs. So, off I went planning my advance across North America, keeping famous baseball stadiums in mind:
Of course, my first North American stop was New York City
And they've got a fairly famous baseball team here too - something called the Yankees, at the New Yankee Stadium, shown here. I would've actually been more excited to see the old, more historic Yankee Stadium, but that had been replaced by this shining new stadium last year, so that's what we get. I would have been really, really excited to catch a game here (or even at the new Mets Stadium in Queens), but I happened to be in New York during baseball's All Star break, so no games for you! In fact, I even missed the hours for the tour of the stadium... So, enough with the Yankees then - on to Boston!
Boston, the city, I had visited on a number of occasions before, so I wasn't really inclined to do much sight-seeing, I did catch up with Mary Catherine (of Lake Baikal fame) here briefly, but really, my main raison d'etre in Boston was to catch a Red Sox game at Fenway Park, so on a beautiful summer evening, around 7 o'clock, I arrived at my Fenway seat and settled in to watch the Red Sox take on the Texas Rangers
Welcome to Fenway Park! Every game is sold out...
The Green Monster under the lights. I thought you'd be a little bigger, a little more monstrous actually, Green Monster? ('Green Monster' is what they call that big green wall over there, Mom)
My seats weren't very far from the Red Sox bullpen, so here's an action shot of the warm-ups
Unfortunately, the beautiful summer evening did not last, and around the fourth inning, the game was paused indefinitely due to rain. This was all a part of my Egypt hangover month of travel, where each new city I'd arrive in would greet me with rain and clouds after the interminable heat and sunshine that was everywhere in Egypt: Tunis, Naples, Rome, Paris, Bristol, London (of course), New York, Boston, Montreal, Buffalo... they each got me a taste of overcast skies and rain. I stuck with it though, waited out the delay, taking a chance to explore the stadium, and sample the local bratwurst offerings.
An hour later, the action resumed, and we all trooped back to our seats. Sadly, the weather didn't get the memo that we were all back, while the umpires were clearly inclined to try and get the game finished, so we were experiencing a little more New England drizzle than I felt I had really signed up for
The skies continuing to look ominous over Fenway
I put up with the rain for about another inning, and promptly packed up and headed out of the stadium - I'm all for catching a Sox game at Fenway, but getting soaked wasn't part of the plan. Fenway itself was really cool to see - it's certainly very small, very cozy, distinctly old school. The fans used to be known as the most knowledgeable baseball fans in America - as the ticket prices have risen sharply, the most die-hard, most knowledgeable fans have stopped being able to afford tickets, so while there still isn't an empty seat to be found in the house, I didn't necessarily think the makeup of the crowd was any different than what you'd expect at a baseball game anywhere else around the country.
And speaking of anywhere else around the country, a couple of weeks later, after a detour through Canada, I reached Chicago, home of the Cubs. I was once again here for just a single night, staying with Ellen, a new couch-surfing buddy, and we headed off towards Wrigley Field to catch an evening game against the St. Louis Cardinals (somewhat ironically, last time I had been in St. Louis, I caught a game there against the Cubs...).
Approaching Wrigley!
Ellen and I over by our 'seats' - all the games at Wrigley are sold out too, so we ended up with standing room seats, which was actually just fine by us!
National League MVP Albert Pujols taking a swing
'Beyond the Ivy' seats - Wrigley Field feels really small! Part of the reason is that the outfield seats don't go up very high, so the houses beyond the stadium, across Waveland Avenue, get a clear look onto the action
I accessorized in some St. Patrick's Day Cubbies attire and got a picture with Ernie Banks
We once again didn't make it all the way through the game... no rain this time, it's just that it went into extra innings, and we had a visit to Al Capone's old jazz club still ahead of us (which was awesome, by the way). Wrigley Field, I enjoyed even more than Fenway - they are both small, cozy and somehow feel closer and more genuine than most of the gigantic, new, corporate-sponsored stadiums, but Wrigley has a little more of a quiet, relaxed vibe to it than does Fenway. Maybe it's just the ivy on the outfield walls, or maybe it's because the Cubs are the lovable losers (last championship in 1908, next one does not currently appear to be imminent), while the Red Sox have become all smug, corporate, and expensive(!) after breaking through their own curse (read: cheapness of a former owner) and winning a pair of World Series titles in the past ten years.
And that, in short, was my America's Pastime baseball experience. Some day, catching a game at the two New York stadiums needs to happen, but I've gotten the two venues that I really wanted to see out of the way: Fenway and Wrigley! Oh, and I did pass by some other baseball venues along the way, but I wasn't quite so inclined to catch a game at either one of these:
Some fun decorations on the side of the Rogers Stadium in downtown Toronto - generally regarded as a particularly unattractive stadium... At least, I imagine, the CN Tower makes for a nice background
Seeing a game at Denver's Coors Field would be pretty cool actually (and ironically enough, the very same Chicago Cubs were apparently arriving in town just as I was taking off), but I didn't have the time - Seattle was calling by now!
And now that I'm back here in Seattle and not really traveling anymore, a whole new American Pastime has come calling: The Burning Man Festival in the Nevada Desert.
No, I've never been before, and I can't really describe it all that well - if you are not familiar with this particular form of insanity, you are best off just looking at their website and waiting for my blog posts afterward (no, not during!). Irina has gone the past two years, and she seems to absolutely love it, so this year I've decided to join her (and 50,000 of our fellow 'burners') - if she and I made it through Colombia, Israel, and Egypt unscathed, this is bound to go well too, right!?
This is Lara:She was one of my 17 closest friends in Rio de Janeiro over Carnaval last year. Meaning we were in the same 18-person dorm at our Rio hostel. Then I ran into her again in Argentina. And then she went back home to Western Australia, while I proceeded to do all the silly things you read t... Read MoreThis is Lara:
She was one of my 17 closest friends in Rio de Janeiro over Carnaval last year. Meaning we were in the same 18-person dorm at our Rio hostel. Then I ran into her again in Argentina. And then she went back home to Western Australia, while I proceeded to do all the silly things you read this blog for!
This is Victoria, BC:
Victoria is actually the capital of British Columbia, not Vancouver, and this is the Parliament Building.
The Empress Hotel is the other uber well-known landmark in Victoria.
Lara + Victoria = an excuse for me to travel a little more! Somewhere on the train ride to Denver, a plan was hatched: upon reaching Seattle, I'd keep heading further West and make it across the bay to Victoria and we'd hang out on Vancouver Island for a day. After all, I still had some Canadian cash on hand! More importantly, the following conversation had become all too common of a refrain while I'd been traveling: - And where are you from? - Seattle, in the US - Oh, I visited there - it's beautiful! How do you like Victoria? We thought it was really lovely! - Well, actually, I still haven't been to Victoria or Vancouver Island... <frowny face> And catching up with Lara, and her funny Australian accent would be cool too, so after spending Friday in Seattle, I was off again, to nearby Canada bright and early on Saturday morning.
A three hour ferry ride and 45 minute wait for immigration later, and I was back in Canada! Victoria itself is rather peaceful, and pretty, and quiet. It certainly has a pronounced quaint Victorian feel to it (duh!), especially in the summer - with the immaculate houses, lots of flowers, and the imposing Parliament building
Like I said, lots of pretty, brightly-colored flowers! Right in front of Parliament...
The rest of Vancouver Island, the largest island on the Pacific side of North America (and the 43rd largest island in the world - thanks, wikipedia!) is a pretty big adventure destination - from hiking to surfing to bungy jumping, you've got it all available, but I was only here for a day, so there weren't any big outdoorsy adventures on the schedule (other than camping overnight). We did our loop around Victoria, then went for a brief hike, more of a stroll rather, in a park, which hugged the jagged shoreline of a medium-sized lake in the suburbs of Victoria. I can't remember the name of the park or of the lake, but I do remember getting completely disoriented during the hike because the lake is a very, very irregular non-geometric shape... Anyway, I digress, following this non-geometric shape of a lake, we headed off to the Butchart Gardens, arguably the best known attraction of Vancouver Island. The gardens are an enormous, sprawling collection of flower beds, begun by Mrs. Butchart early in the 20th century. When you enter, you get a flower guide, which among other trivia, tells you when the flowers are likely to be in bloom - flowers being what they are, just about everything is in bloom in July/August, so you too should be coming to visit right about now:
There's pretty purple flowers
And really nice white ones... If I could get Lynn to help write this post, she could probably identify each of these flowers, but I can't remember the names...
The Ross Fountain in the back of the Gardens is animated into some exotic shapes and contortions. I was just at the Cirque du Soleil studios in Montreal two weeks ago - this seemed like the sort of thing they would've thought up!
Apparently, girls aren't welcome at the Gardens! I disapprove!
Well, I could let you go on believing that Mrs. Butchart was just mean and didn't want any other women in her garden... but instead, that sign was accompanied by a 'No Boys' sign on the other side of the street - it's just their polite, Canadian, politically correct way of saying 'No Entry,' to anyone... please! The Canadians are very polite - they really are renowned for it all over the world. Consequently you get all the idiot Americans parading around Europe with Canadian patches on their backpacks, thinking that'll make them appear slightly less obnoxious.
It was starting to get a little dark by this time, which was very good news, indeed - it was a Saturday, and as we discovered, The Butchart Gardens puts on a big fireworks display every Saturday in the summer. And this isn't just a shoot all sorts of sparklies into the sky, like we do for Fourth of July (or the Chinese do for Chinese New Year... they do a lot more actually!) - this is more of an old-school show: there's both the normal fireworks lighting up the skies, and lots of animated, firework-ed displays performing little song and dance tricks down on the ground. Not sure how well this shot captures it all, but it gives you an idea:
All in all, the 30 minute show was spectacular, and certainly offered the most creativity and variety of any fireworks show I'd ever seen. They design a new one every season, and have won a number of awards for their efforts
Visited the Ross Fountain again while waiting for the crowds to clear out after the fireworks - the fountain is spectacularly lit up at night
Yup, on the way out, I posed for a picture with a fountain in the shape of a wild pig...
By this time it was getting towards midnight, so we booked it back to our campground and crashed for the night - see the picture of Lara and I at the start of this post in front of our tent, if you are curious about our accommodations, which were surprisingly comfortable, by the way! (thanks for letting me borrow the tent, Lott!) In the morning, we caught a car ferry back to the States via Anacortes, which took long enough to frustrate and annoy me, but we did make it back to Seattle just in time to go get my furniture out of storage and get me moved in to my new place on Capitol Hill. All in all, a success then! If the ferry had taken another 45 minutes, my storage would've closed, and this success would have turned into a spectacular failure, so I like to think I was justified for wishing that the American Customs would move a little faster, but they are world-renowned for being slow and [often excessively] thorough these days. Especially when dealing with an Aussie... sigh...
My new humble abode in Capitol Hill!
I suppose it's not really new actually, but it's certainly new to me. It isn't exactly mine either, as I've got five house-mates, but I have slept in the same place for the past two weeks, in my very own bed, with my very own sheets, and that sure has been nice.
What happens to that dear 'ol bus that would take you to school and back when you were a kid? Well, apparently, the school buses all have their different personalities, just like the rest of us, and they all go in a number of different ways. And what do a lot of retired Americans do now? Why, they d... Read MoreWhat happens to that dear 'ol bus that would take you to school and back when you were a kid? Well, apparently, the school buses all have their different personalities, just like the rest of us, and they all go in a number of different ways. And what do a lot of retired Americans do now? Why, they dress up in bright and loud outfits and take a trip to Central America - school buses are no different:
The brightly colored, former school bus is the backbone of the public transportation networks in places like Panama City, Panama. This one is actually from Cochabamba, Bolivia, which is a place that most Americans (and American school buses) don't generally reach, but it certainly looks the part of its Central American brethren.
The ones who invested more time and money into their financial retirement planning during the long days of carting screaming, bratty little kids around the suburbs have a few more options. Instead of working through retirement on the mean streets of Panama City, they are able to afford to settle down in relative peace and comfort not far from the azure waters of the Pacific Ocean, near a Central American beach:
Witness this former North American workhorse now administering a surf camp at the beach town of Tamarindo, Costa Rica. Life under the palm trees is pretty peaceful in Tamarindo!
Unfortunately, life in Central and South America is fraught with danger, and there's constant competition for jobs from newer, younger, fresher immigrants coming across the border from up North, so not everyone can keep up. And when the time comes when you are no longer up to the task of being a brightly painted, suspension-optional transportation kog in a Central American municipality's public transport scheme, you are just put out to pasture in the fields of, say, Western Argentina
With the Andes providing a dramatic backdrop. If you are fortunate, like this guy, your final resting place will be near a National Monument - Puente del Inca here, and within a short hike from Aconcagua, South America's tallest peak
But not all Americans travel outside the country in their retirement years - many simply try to take in the many, many natural sites that North America has to offer. And the school buses are right there with them!
Who knows where this guy started, but he only made it as far as South Dakota, where he was turned into a tourist shuttle for the construction site of the Crazy Horse monument. Definitely missing out on a seriously psychedelic paint job though!
And then, there's a few school buses that were clearly forced to retire much too early - their adrenaline is still rushing, their engines are still roaring, and the fighting spirit is still strong within these ones! Fortunately, there's a place for these restless, competitive types too - it's the All-American institution called the Demolition Derby:
The Battlebus, ready to bring the pain, at the Derby in Monroe, Washington
School buses racin' and bumpin' around the tight corners. Yeah, that shady spot under a palm tree on the beach in Costa Rica may seem nice, but that's not the place for these guys!
Well, apparently these are all the school buses I've got pictures of... and all the witty commentary I have to offer. But my mother is always upset whenever a post doesn't have a single picture of me, so let's solve that - here I am, roughly school-bus aged. Except that I was in Soviet Russia at the time, where there were no school buses, but I digress. Besides, you wouldn't want to see any pictures of me from high school in Kentucky... I'm not sure I even have any!
I'm guessing this is 4th grade, I ought to be wearing my blood red Pioneer tie, but I think fourth grade was when we all got a little rebellious and learned we didn't really have to wear them in these crazy days of Glasnost and Perestroika...
Ok, here's me actually with a one of the buses above too: clicky here!
Just not quite the way I had ever wanted to become famous. Apparently, I was responsible for (maybe 'involved in' is more appropriate actually) holding up some traffic in Seattle: http://www.centraldistrictnews.com/2010/08/10/cdnews-police-scanner-8-10 - the 3:23PM incident at 14th and Yesler is all... Read MoreJust not quite the way I had ever wanted to become famous. Apparently, I was responsible for (maybe 'involved in' is more appropriate actually) holding up some traffic in Seattle: http://www.centraldistrictnews.com/2010/08/10/cdnews-police-scanner-8-10 - the 3:23PM incident at 14th and Yesler is all me, baby! Not that I remember it all that clearly, but I was definitely biking down Yesler, quickly, and there was definitely a white Ford Explorer making a right turn right in front of me... I'll get a look at the police report tomorrow, and I hear they had plenty of witnesses, but I am very curious to know if the guy had his turn signal on, since I'm usually fairly careful and pretty good at avoiding these sorts of things, and I wasn't going so fast that I couldn't have stopped if I had gotten an indication that he was about to turn. That's what I think anyway - we'll find out more tomorrow. At least I had a helmet and health insurance!
As far as the insurance goes, no serious damage appears to have occurred - a number of bumps and bruises that I've been told to put neosporin on, and most likely a mild concussion, but they put me through a CT scanner, and concluded that the insides of my head looked as good as ever, then sent me home. I noted that the CT scanner looked a little like a time machine... I was seriously bored by this time: they ended up keeping me at the hospital for about five hours - Harborview was busy! and thus slow... At least I got to go wakeboarding in the morning before - had been planning to play some hockey too, but that plan went a little astray obviously. Probably should stay away from both of those for the next couple of weeks, unfortunately!
No pictures to show... but you'll be happy to know that I've got a nice big red mark on the left side of my face. But they did keep telling me back in Russia that women are attracted to scars - this is totally my time to shine then, isn't it!?
I left Chicago by train, the same way I had arrived - from Union Station in the heart of the city. The station's waiting hall set a properly All-American scene:This was making me feel fairly patrioticSo, in this patriotic, all-American spirit, I headed for my one last destination: Mount Rushmore. Ac... Read MoreI left Chicago by train, the same way I had arrived - from Union Station in the heart of the city. The station's waiting hall set a properly All-American scene:
This was making me feel fairly patriotic
So, in this patriotic, all-American spirit, I headed for my one last destination: Mount Rushmore. Actually, I was heading to Denver, then driving to Rushmore, but it just plain wouldn't be an All-American adventure if there was public transportation available...
Mount Rushmore National Monument, in the middle of South Dakota's Black Hills National Forest. This was, incidentally, my first time in South Dakota too...
Rushmore is absolutely unique - I've been trying to think of something to compare it to, but there really isn't anything. The monuments are huge - the faces are each sixty feet tall, and they are carved into one of the tallest peaks in the park. There are, of course, other giant monuments around the world, but all the ones I can think of fall neatly into two distinct categories: religious shines (topped perhaps by The Buddhas of Bayman in Afghanistan... until the Taliban destroyed them in 2001), or pure cults of personality - my favorite is certainly the giant golden Turkmenbashi sun dial in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan. (Holy Crap - they are taking down the Golden Turkmenbashi!) Mount Rushmore, however, is neither religious in nature, nor was it constructed to immortalize those building it (or at least authorizing the construction), which, I think, makes it pretty uniquely American. The four Presidents depicted are (from left to right) George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Theodore Roosevelt, and Abraham Lincoln. I think it's safe to say these four were already pretty well immortalized in American history books by the time the monument was completed in 1939. In a related sign of an American oxymoron, accessing Mount Rushmore is free of charge (something that would be inconceivable just about anywhere else in the world) - the parking lot, on the other hand, is privately run and will set you back ten dollars.
In defense of my rather grizzly appearance I'll note that the previous two nights had been spent in a seat on board an amtrak train and in a tent in the South Dakota wilderness. Was starting to look forward to my Denver hotel room by now!
In a mildly ironic twist of fate, Mount Rushmore, this most iconic of All-American monuments is actually located on what has traditionally been Native American land - Sioux land, specifically. Perhaps as a result (or in response?), the tribes are banding together to erect a commemorative monument of their own, not far from Mount Rushmore - Crazy Horse. And you've got to give them credit - they are dreaming big! The mountain chosen as the site, is one of the few that's taller than Rushmore in the area, and, as planned, Crazy Horse will become the tallest monument currently in existence in the world. Now I say 'currently in existence' because they are nowhere near completion - in fact, at the rate they are going (10 workers at the site, not accepting any money from the US government to help with the construction), it is estimated that the monument will take another hundred and fifty years to complete... Nothing highlights your imminent mortality quite like being on a bus and being told that none of you on board, not even the youngest children, will live long enough to see the completed structure, assuming they stick to the current pace.
So far, we've completed Crazy Horse's face - this took about 50 years!
The envisioned model of the entire structure - just another 150 short years! I am a little curious about the slow pace - if money was the only obstacle, you'd think with all the money the tribal casinos are bringing in these days all over the country, that would be an imminently resolvable problem?
Assuming the final statue is eventually carved to the design originally envisioned, will it be the largest monument in the world when eventually finished? Hard to say - China and India currently have competing projects to erect the tallest Buddha statue, but neither reaches the projected height of Crazy Horse (560 feet, or about 171 meters), but what will happen over the next 150 years, assuming it really takes that long? Noone knows for certain... but unless the Taliban come to power in more parts of the world, I think it's safe to say there will be more statues getting erected, and given a century and a half, 171 meters may not be an entirely indomitable limit.
And so, after seeing the two monuments, each representing a different take on the notion of All-American, it was time to pack up my tent and head back to Denver. Now Denver is about a six hour drive from Mount Rushmore; the road passes through parts of Colorado, Wyoming, and South Dakota along the way... and lemme tell you this ain't the most scenic drive you'll ever take! In fact, unless you are a big fan of vast, flat open spaces and really, really, really straight roads, you may grow kinda bored along the way - I surely did. At least the speed limit on the interstates in 75 mph - they clearly know just how straight, flat, and devoid of compelling scenery the roads are. The immediate area surrounding Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse is legitimately beautiful of course - the lush greens of the Black Hills National Forest and Custer State Part, interspersed with a variety of lakes, rivers, and scraggy mountain ranges... But as soon as you leave those behind, you are left with, well, flatness. Some highlights:
An oil derrick in the middle of the prairie actually seemed like a very appropriate site
The town of Deadwood is within the National Forest - it's famed for its Wild West, Gold Rush days (as the HBO show of the same name reminded us), but these days its attraction is the legalized gambling...
Cargo trains criss-crossing Wyoming
A faint rainbow over Northern Colorado after a brief, but fierce thunderstorm. I later heard about golf ball-sized pieces of hail coming down around Mount Rushmore the following day... breaking windshields(!)
And occasionally, you see a big, seemingly incongruent tower of a mountain over the horizon
Actually, that last one wasn't exactly a random site along the way - that's Devils Tower, another National Monument, just across the border in Northern Wyoming. It probably added another hour or two to the drive back, but I figured as long as I was nearby, it would be a shame to miss it. Plus, it gave me a chance to drive along I-90 for some 30 miles, and that made it feel almost like home (I-90 proceeds all the way West to Seattle).
I don't know a whole lot about Devils Tower honestly - it looks like the neck of a big volcano... and it looks that way no matter how close you are to it, so I didn't see the point of paying to actually enter the grounds of the national park. I've since read that it's actually possible to climb to the top of the Tower, which would have certainly been cool, but I didn't really have time to do it anyway, so back to Denver I went! After snapping a few more pictures...
You don't mess with Texas and you don't mess with 386 meters of Wyoming's Devils Tower!
It's cowboy country, ya know!
One last bit of adventure on the way back from the Tower - I actually had to head North, in the opposite direction at first to find the nearest gas station (these are every bit as uncommon as you might imagine in the eternal flat emptiness of the Great Plains). After filling up, I turned out around, pulled back out onto the highway, and sent my little Hyundai on its way back South... Then things went into slow motion in my head - hey, there's a big white car parked on the side of the road - Crap! It's a cop! - Was I speeding? I wonder how fast I was going? I've no idea what the speed limit in the town of Hulett is! - Fuck! He's pulling out - lights on... So, I was speeding. Technically, if he had waited, he may have had a better catch as I was speeding up (probably not much better though, as I did notice him and slowed back down), but as it turned out, the speed limit in tiny little outposts of civilization (e.g. Hulett; population: 516) in rural Wyoming (is there another kind of Wyoming?) is 30 mph, and I was doing 41. Fortunately, I was polite, and the officer was nice, and after running my rental documents through his computer he let me off with a warning, thus not making this the most expensive gas stop in my life! I did make sure to inquire as to what exactly the speed limits were in future rural Wyoming towns... Fortunately, that knowledge would not be needed any more the rest of the day.
Being back in Seattle finally, first order of business was, of course, to check in on the ongoing struggle for survival that is the current state of the mini. Ok, not really the very first order of business, but it was pretty high up on the list.Gunnar, who is the man in charge of the restoration pr... Read MoreBeing back in Seattle finally, first order of business was, of course, to check in on the ongoing struggle for survival that is the current state of the mini. Ok, not really the very first order of business, but it was pretty high up on the list.
Gunnar, who is the man in charge of the restoration process, had previously sent me a few pictures of the process: see here. But this time I was here to see it for myself, equipped with a camera and everything! I'm pleased to report that I don't appear to have missed much, as I am hoping the gradual process will continue to get covered here on the blog...
Not so surprisingly, the vast majority of the front panels are to be scrapped
Headlights gaping from their open spaces
The trunk panels are going to be all new too... Same with the floor and the doors actually - anything that's been anywhere near the Mongolian soil is more or less in a state where it's cheaper/easier to replace than it is to salvage and repair
Ever since Sicily, my trip's been taking me to places that I've visited previously - sure Pisa and Switzerland and Quebec and Ontario were all new, but they don't feel quite as radically new as, say, finally reaching Africa and seeing the Pyramids in Egypt. It's more like going through and picking u... Read MoreEver since Sicily, my trip's been taking me to places that I've visited previously - sure Pisa and Switzerland and Quebec and Ontario were all new, but they don't feel quite as radically new as, say, finally reaching Africa and seeing the Pyramids in Egypt. It's more like going through and picking up the pieces that I'd missed before. But before that all starts sounding boring and mundane, never fear - the particular pieces I've been picking to see are pretty damn appealing in their own right - so...
I'd been to Paris several times before (most recently to buy a certain mini automobile), and I've seen all the big museums - Louvre, d'Orsay, Rodin, Versaille, but never the Center George Pompidou, perhaps the premier modern art collection in the world:
June 2010, Check!
The collection the Pompidou houses is certainly amazing and huge - I appear to have developed a greater degree of appreciation for modern art lately, but even I found some of the French exhibits a bit too weird for my tastes...
Moving on - There's lots of bridges around the world, I've seen some interesting and famous ones - some more famous than others. So, I couldn't leave New York this time without having walked the Brooklyn Bridge
consider yourself crossed, t!
In a similar vein, it was about time I finally caught a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty!
There are some crazy, crazy, weird statues all over the world (especially in South and SE Asia), so I can't possibly be going home without having seen what is arguably the best known statue in the Western World. Certainly in North America...
I didn't go to Easter Island. But I really want to go! So, instead I went to see an exhibit dedicated to it at the Montreal Museum of Archaeology and History
The CN Tower of Toronto, Ontario rises to a fairly mind-boggling height of 553 meters above ground
I've seen some of the tallest buildings in the world, but I hadn't seen what, until recently, used to be the tallest of them all (Burj Dubai surpassed it earlier this year) - Toronto's CN Tower is certainly the grandest (and tallest) of the city's landmarks. Unrivaled in height, probably rivaled in appeal by all the restaurants Toronto has to offer...
Hockey - Canada's national past time. And the Stanley Cup, the prize for becoming the champion of the National Hockey League
Sports I've gone to see along the way: muay thai (Thailand), rugby (Fiji), footie (a.k.a. Australian Rules Football), sumo wrestling (Japan), tennis (Argentina), football/soccer (Bolivia), cycling (Bolivia), horse racing (Hong Kong), baseball (USA). I went horse back riding in a few places too, but that hardly looks like a sport when I'm the one doing it... So, what I really should have done is catch a hockey game while in Canada, but it's the NHL's off-season during the summer, so I settled for a visit to the hockey Hall of Fame here in Toronto for a glimpse at all the glory and history of the game...
Moving right along... waterfalls! The Iguazu falls in Argentina are undoubtedly the most awesome waterfall (or a collection of falls rather) in the world. I should see the Victoria Falls in South Africa before making these assertions (Venezuela's Angel Falls too...), but I'm pretty confident. After all, I did go to Buffalo, New York to see the Niagara Falls, the greatest waterfall North America has to offer, and while I wasn't disappointed (was mightily impressed, in fact), Niagara surely pales in comparison to Iguazu!
I recruited Amie to come play my local tour guide... Last time we hung out was back in January, on the beaches of Koh Tao in Thailand - six months later, Buffalo and Niagara Falls! Apparently she now has a job too...
Speaking of big tall buildings, the skyscraper was invented in Chicago, and the city is home to American's tallest building - the Willis Tower (which used to be knows as the Sears Tower, until apparently the Sears corporation started running out of money).
I felt Ok about the Sears Tower though, since I'd seen it before...
The locals in Chicago, however, apparently prefer the John Hancock Tower (merely the sixth tallest building in the US), so I made my over to see it.
Actually I met Cynthia for lunch at the Signature Room on the 95th floor, with its amazing views of the Lake Michigan shorelines - the best part about "crossing the t's and dotting the i's" is that traveling in civilized places like Europe and North America, you get to meet up with lots of friends wherever you go!
After making it all the way from New York to Denver overland, I finally relented and got on a plane for the final leg of the trip to Seattle and the Pacific Coast. And upon landing, I immediately concluded that it's good to be back!View of Mt. Rainier in the setting sun on the flight over the Cascad... Read MoreAfter making it all the way from New York to Denver overland, I finally relented and got on a plane for the final leg of the trip to Seattle and the Pacific Coast. And upon landing, I immediately concluded that it's good to be back!
View of Mt. Rainier in the setting sun on the flight over the Cascades
Welcome to Montreal!After some Greyhound bus-related mis-adventures in Vermont, I finally made it to Montreal. (At about 3 in the morning - Greyhound is not your friend!) What did I know about Montreal prior to arriving? They speak French a lot, and I have friends to visit there - that's about it. T... Read More
Welcome to Montreal!
After some Greyhound bus-related mis-adventures in Vermont, I finally made it to Montreal. (At about 3 in the morning - Greyhound is not your friend!) What did I know about Montreal prior to arriving? They speak French a lot, and I have friends to visit there - that's about it. The last guidebook I had been traveling with was for Egypt, so I'd become rather open-minded about the places I was getting to these days. So, the following day, having met up with Goose and Sara (at 3 the previous morning), I headed off to explore this new Franco-English speaking land. And the first thing I found along the way? Well, apparently, hippies - proper, frisbee throwing, hacky sack playing, tambourine drumming, weed offering hippies! You'd think you were in San Francisco or Seattle again - I figured I could get along with the people here! No matter which language they spoke...
First stop was the Parque Mont Royal, which, as their website describes, hosts a popular activity called the "Montreal Tam Tam Jam:"
It consists of lots of people drumming away on these hand drums ("tam-tams" in French).
And of others dancing to the rhythms
This was kind of crazy, kind of cool, but it gets better! I headed deeper into the forest (park), in search of Sunday's star attraction - the 'fighting geeks,' as Sara and Goose described them. They aren't hard to find - quite an audience had gathered, so pretty soon I was in a large-ish clearing, watching the following spectacle:
These guys, sadly, do not have a website explaining what it is that they are all about (that I know of - in reality they likely do). But how much of an explanation do we really need? It's a collection of twenty to fifty guys (and girls) who go at each other, utilizing plastic pikes and swords, wrapped in foam! Pretty straightforward, makes for quite a spectacle. While some of it certainly looks like vaguely organized mayhem, quite a few of the participants looked to have a fair bit of actual fencing background - a 'noob' couldn't even touch me, man! On Halloween a couple of years ago, they did apparently get attacked by a crowd of zombies though... I do ever so wish I had been there to witness that battle!
Moving on from the semi-, vaguely-serious to the purely comedic, The Just for Laughs Festival was just finishing up in town that Sunday too. I watched a magician do his act, all in French... still entertaining...
The whole crowd may have been a little high by the time the evening parade rolled around!
As for the rest of Montreal, it's interesting and eclectic - there's a properly French-looking old town, and a nicely preserved old port is on the banks of the river. Montreal used to be Canada's primary Atlantic port as the lakes and rivers connect it all the way to the ocean, but the major ports have moved even further inland along the Great Lakes these days. Apparently, at the turn of the last century, it was also a significant manufacturing and shipping hub - a fact you won't be able to miss while gazing at some of the architecture that highlights the Old Port area:
Then again, they might just all be hippies, so they like having all these grain silos still around!
I mean somebody had to have designed this housing complex, and I'm fairly certain they were high! I liked it a lot though - enough so to pedal all the way out there to get some up-close shots of it
There's also a Biosphere... which, of course, only makes me think of Pauley Shore and the less renowned Baldwin brother (Stephen), who had both stared in the similarly titled movie Bio-Dome
And you can feed raccoons on the street!
As for the friends I was visiting with here in Montreal, they might not be hippies, but they seem to be fitting in pretty well. I got to see just about the entire town thanks to them - from biking past a sprawling amusement park under the Jacques Cartier Bridge to the Cirque du Soleil studios further afield (where Pavel, whom I know going all the way back to Moscow, now works)
Pavel and Olga, at their apartment in the Old City
Goose and Sara, along with Talya and Baby Mireille, after a frisbee game. They apparently needed subs, so I got to play - now looking forward to getting back to Seattle and maybe actually getting some exercise...
On to Toronto, where I was off to hang out with Whelena, Vera, and Tim
Toronto is a bit more serious and buttoned down - I went to see the Provincial Legislature, the CN Tower, the Hockey Hall of Fame, the wineries in the nearby Niagara Valley... joined by hordes of other tourists once again. But Canada's still Canada, so that evening, we were off to see indie rock at a club nearby.
This was Elliot Brood, the opening act. Calexico were the headliners, but everyone seemed to enjoy Elliot Brood better - maybe it's just because they're local and Calexico are Americans, or maybe because they were just better?
Actually, the best part of Toronto was all the all the food and drink we had. I was staying with Tim, with whom I had previously met up traveling in Mendoza, Argentina (wine tasting) and Hong Kong (Chinese food! No, not the tourist crap, good Chinese food). Toronto was sort of a combination of the two - from ethnically diverse including Indian and Chinese Dim Sum, to Cora's for breakfast, to trout and goat cheese mashed potatoes Tim and Whelena had collaborated on (btw, goat cheese + mashed potatoes = really good) to wine tastings along with local cheese in the Niagara Valley... But I'm trying to keep a theme here, so we're focusing on the indie music at this point! I'll have to get back to the Toronto attractions like the CN Tower in another post... Montreal, by the way, does quite well on the culinary front itself, chiming in with poutine - I have now come to accept french fries with gravy, cheese curds, and a variety of additional toppings as a very worthwhile addition to the culinary world from the nation of Canada...
Actually both Montreal and Toronto have some claims to dining fame - Toronto is often described as having the most diverse choice of cuisines available in any city in North America, if not the whole world, while Montreal is said to have the most restaurants per capita. Having witnessed them both, I'm not about to argue with either of these claims!
New York, New York!The night-time view onto mid-town Manhattan: the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, the UN (and more), from Nathalie's apartment, where she was kind enough to let me stay for a couple of nightsTimes Square on a rainy July dayThe Statue of Liberty, flanked by the New Jer... Read MoreNew York, New York!
The night-time view onto mid-town Manhattan: the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, the UN (and more), from Nathalie's apartment, where she was kind enough to let me stay for a couple of nights
Times Square on a rainy July day
The Statue of Liberty, flanked by the New Jersey skyline... not quite as imposing as the New York skyline
The iconic Brooklyn Bridge shot!
The rainy day over Times Square eventually turned into a coloful sunset over Lower Manhattan
I walked back and forth across the Brooklyn Bridge, then took some more pictures
I went to see the new Yankee Stadium, it just so happened to be on the day that George Steinbrenner, the long-time owner, had passed away - a small memorial out front
The Statue of Liberty
I think this was my fourth or fifth time in New York, but it occurred to me that I'd never actually been to see the Statue of Liberty before, so I made sure to make my way down to Battery Park and towards the statue this time. Taking the ferry to Liberty Island itself was expensive and entailed an hour+ wait. Taking the Staten Island Ferry, which goes right by the Statue, was free and had no wait, plus the huge orange ships were pretty cool, so I followed my aunt's advice and did a commuter drive-by visit to the Statue. Liberty and Ellis Islands get saved for next time!
I met Michelle at Lombardi's Pizza
We were each waiting for a 'table for one,' and decided we'd seem less pathetic if we just got a table for two. Besides, the pizzas are rather sizeable - Lombardi's claims to be the original pizzeria and is a well-established tourist haunt, as the place had been recommended by Jamie, all the way back in London... Somebody else had suggested Lombardi's to Michelle too - she's an interesting girl: had just graduated from Texas A&M University and is at the moment doing an 'Eight Jobs in Eight Weeks' program, where, you guessed it, you work eight different jobs in eight weeks, in eight different cities. Writing a blog and everything and presumably figuring out what you want to do with your life now that college is over, and you are supposedly about to become responsible. She now has a video of me on the blog going on about how you should just travel instead of becoming responsible, but I can't possibly imagine that I sound particularly coherent, so I'll leave finding that blog as an exercise for the reader...
And then I went to see Wicked
I kept hearing about how good the show was, but had missed it when it was playing in Seattle (and then again in London), so I was happy to catch the permanent production on Broadway. The show was, indeed, great, but this sign you see as you are exiting the Gershwin Theater struck home: You are now Leaving Oz. Reality Straight Ahead. Getting back to Seattle and facing reality again is looming closer and closer!
Have I been everywhere and seen every single remarkable site that the world has to offer? No, I have not. Should this preclude me from declaring what the magical 'Seven Wonders of the World' are? Maybe... but it won't - this is my list, if you disagree with something, feel free to make your own!I th... Read MoreHave I been everywhere and seen every single remarkable site that the world has to offer? No, I have not. Should this preclude me from declaring what the magical 'Seven Wonders of the World' are? Maybe... but it won't - this is my list, if you disagree with something, feel free to make your own!
I thought about coming up some criteria, but it's really quite easy - the 'wonders of the world' are things that unique and amazing. And these are all man-made structures; wonders of the natural world would be a whole another matter, likely a much harder one. I also tend to favor wonders that are amazing because of what they are, not because of the important/amazing/rare things that had happened there. Otherwise, it should just be Jerusalem, Rome, Athens, and New York for a bit of modern flavor.
So, without further ado, the list:
#1. The Pyramids of Giza: Cairo, Egypt
You have to start with the Pyramids, don't you? It's the only one left of the original Seven Wonders, and they are still going strong - still gigantic, still incomprehensibly ancient. It took us as a civilization over 4,000 years to finally build a structure that was taller than the Pyramids. Egypt has gone through a succession of rulers and overlords since the Pyramids had been constructed - various ones of these lords tried to destroy or alter the Pyramids; they barely made a dent. They are as they had always been - colossal, monumental, huge, imposing... When you see them in person, they are even bigger, than you had imagined.
#2. The Taj Mahal: Agra, India
The jewel of the Indian sub-continent, constructed as a burial shrine to a King's former wife. It's a beautiful, gleaming, almost magical site to behold. The contrast it offers to the slums that dominate the rest of India is striking, but it doesn't, in any way, need any extra points for the contrast - it deserves to be on any list of this kind just for its own unique and magnificent splendor. Criss-crossing India by rickshaw, getting to Agra to see the Taj Mahal was, at least, a three day detour for us, and it was easily worth it.
#3. Angkor Wat: Siem Reap, Cambodia
While the gloden domes of Thailand's famous temples shine in the lights of Bangkok and Chiang Mai, Angkor Wat stands solemnly across the border in Cambodia, in the heart of the former Khmer kingdom. The individual temples of Thailand and Laos may be more beautiful than the less glittering Khmer architecture, but not a single one stands out in my memory quite as strikingly as the ancient Angkor Wat, towering over the jungle from its position near Siem Reap. This wasn't the only Khmer temple I visited, and while the architectural styles are similar, none of the others could even begin to compare to Angkor Wat on sheer size and scale. It's huge, and it just peaks out of the jungle, with a subtle air of mystery, as if a real-life Angelina Jolie - Tomb Raider really is going to emerge from behind the trees any second. It's a stark contrast to Giza, where the Pyramids have been all but swallowed up by the metropolis of Cairo. Of course, Siem Reap isn't much of a metropolis, and Cambodia rolls along at a much slower, quieter pace than Egypt anyway.
#4. Kinkakuji Temple, a.k.a. the Golden Pavilion: Kyoto, Japan.
Just as I was starting to get a little despondent after a month in Japan, complaining that the Japanese architecture, while unique and beautiful, wasn't particularly varied, I finally arrived in Kyoto, the cultural capital of the country. A lot of the structures here were more of the same too (not another five story pagoda!?), but, Kyoto did have a few that very much broke the mold and inspired the imagination. Tops among them is the Golden Pavilion. Actually, I think, it's the golden reflection in the perfectly calm waters, on a clear winter day, that truly sold me. The stark green forest background surely made it one of the most photogenic sites in Japan...
#5. The Eiffel Tower: Paris, France
The structure that finally bested the Pyramids in height? That would be the Eiffel Tower. I think we are all pretty familiar with it by now, so I don't need to try and wax poetic about it - it's the avant garde symbol of modern day France. While Notre Dame, Versailles, and Louvre were the gleaming, golden symbols that the French royalty erected to celebrate their rule, the modern, and relatively spartan in decoration, Eiffel Tower is the symbol of Paris, and of France that I think of. In fact, it's the on the very, very short list of the most striking and memorable sites in all of Europe that immediately come to mind.
#6. St. Basil's Cathedral: Moscow, Russia
Maybe I'm biased having grown up in Moscow. Maybe I overlook the Moscow sites because I take them for granted, having grown up there. I don't know, but while Europe boasts plenty of amazing churches and cathedrals, none is quite as unique as Moscow's St. Basil's with its assortment of beautifully multi-colored domes. Even the other Russian Orthodox churches don't look like this, with their always golden cupolas, and I did emphasize uniqueness among my criteria!
#7. Sydney Opera House: Sydney, Australia
Nobody ever said this was a list of ancient wonders, and for #7, I settled for something modern, unique, and beautiful. Skyscrapers have really become symbols of modern architecture, but they are really not that different from each other. Sydney's Opera House is absolutely unique in its contemporary combination of function and design - sails blowing in the wind, as it's coming in from the harbor. The Eiffel Tower was reviled when first constructed, Shanghai's Oriental Pearl Tower remains ugly, but I doubt anyone didn't admire the beauty and elegance of the Sydney Opera House from the moment it had been completed.
And that's the list! There's plenty I haven't seen yet - the Mayan and Aztec Pyramids, the brand new Burj Dubai Tower, the Moai of Easter Island, even America's very own Mt. Rushmore, just off the top of my head, so I may, some day, decide to adjust the list, but, for now, I'm quite happy with it. Some notable runners-up that didn't quite make the cut:
- The churches of Western Europe: Notre Dame in Paris, London's Westminster Abbey, St. Peter's Basilica at the heart of the Vatican, Sagrada Famillia in Barcelona. None of them quite stood out and separated themselves enough from other similar Cathedrals, in my mind. Sagrada Famillia has a chance, as it's still under construction...
- Machu Picchu is awesome, but it is in large part awesome because it's the 'Lost City of the Incas' and because of its amazing surroundings in the Peruvian mountains. But the actual Incan architecture, especially minus all the gold, that conquistadors so kindly removed/stole, isn't quite astounding enough. The Potala Palace in Tibet falls into the same category - it's mystical and full of history and tradition, but as far as the actual architecture and decoration, I didn't think it was quite up to par. Very compellingly close though...
- Thailand and Burma each has a plethora of amazing temples, but they are hard to separate from each other. As a whole, Bangkok and the plane of Bagan are amazing, but I can't pick an individual temple over the likes of Angkor Wat, Taj Mahal, and Kyoto's Golden Pavilion. In a similar vein, Istanbul, Cairo, and [especially] Samarquand had some amazing Islamic architecture - from the massive spires of the minarets of Istanbul and Cairo to the ancient, mosaic'd madrassahs of Samarquand and Buchara, but that left each of them just good enough to merit mention among the runners-up category.
Ok, eleven years... almost to the day, in fact - the last (and only other) time I had been to Rome was back in the summer of 1999, when I was young, naive, and inexperienced in the ways of a world-wide nomad. So, I've changed and evolved since then - turns out Rome has too. Well, in some ways, it ha... Read MoreOk, eleven years... almost to the day, in fact - the last (and only other) time I had been to Rome was back in the summer of 1999, when I was young, naive, and inexperienced in the ways of a world-wide nomad. So, I've changed and evolved since then - turns out Rome has too. Well, in some ways, it hasn't - the Colosseo is still here:
Built in 80AD, it's on a rather slow trajectory of change - an extra eleven years wasn't going to do a whole lot
It feels a bit different on the inside though - more on that below
Hola, Roma!
The atmosphere inside and around the Colosseum, however, changed dramatically - sure, it was a big tourist attraction then too, but compared to today? I felt I had the place all to myself when I went inside eleven years ago. Today, the people of America, and the people of India, and the people of everywhere in between have truly discovered Rome and the Colosseum. I'd love to see the comparison of annual visitor statistics between today and '99 - my guess is that there's several times more visitors that arrive today. Along with them, you get lines (of course), persistent tour guide touts, offering to get you past said lines, and Nigerian men aggressively selling crappy souvenirs. Inside today, it's crowded - sometimes you start to think that maybe picking up a few ancient Gladiator swords and pikes and going out into the ring in order to 'thin out the crowds' a bit wouldn't be such a bad thing. I did have a rather profound headache that morning, following the three bottles of Italian wine Donna and I had split the night before (which didn't feel nearly far enough in the past), so, perhaps, my judgment was a bit clouded on the 'thinning of the crowds' issue...
Other things change in less obviously perceptible ways - take the Vatican. St. Peter's and the Piazza remain the stoic guardians of the Catholic Church, and the same steady flow of tourists comes to gawk at them. Maybe I should say torrent, not flow... but that was just as much the case eleven years ago.
The St. Peter's Basilica - certainly an awesome testament to Papal glory
And the plaza out front... Didn't I see that obelisk some place recently? That's right it was plundered from Egypt...
The State of Vatican is an independent nation (I went by the embassy of the Russian Federation at the Vatican), but you can't get a Vatican stamp in your passport... to my bitter disappointment
The big change from summer of '99 is that now you actually get to see the dome of St. Peter's in all of its glory - and it is, oh, so very remarkably glorious. Back in '99, the Vatican was getting ready to welcome in the New Millennium in style and the entire Cathedral was being renovated - the outside fully encased in construction works. Having now seen it, I've got to admit, the Basilica is quite the site. While the architectural style is by no means unique, it is far bigger, grander, and more lavishly (much more) decorated than any of the other Catholic Cathedrals built in a similar style. The vast colonnaded plaza out front only adds to the already awe-inspiring ambiance...
The Vatican also houses a vast and diverse art collection - the Popes have enjoyed the good life over the years... and eventually one of them thought to turn their personal collection into a museum (and charge a steep admission fee, of course). The steep admission fee has never done much to discourage visitors, and I had planned to see the Sistine Chapel and the Musei Vaticani back in '99, but I was confronted with a threesome of obstacles, which put together, were too much to overcome: it was 30-some degrees (Celsius), the line stretched for at least three hours, and you had to wear long pants to enter...
This is where things change, but subtly. You see, the line is still there, in all of its eternal glory - in fact, I think it stretches almost precisely as far as it did eleven years ago. It's still hot, and you still have to wear long pants. But this time, I had a secret weapon (sort of like holy water, only more useful and technologically advanced) - I was staying at a hostel, the Vatican had embraced the word of the internet, and the hostel showed me how to order a ticket online. For an extra 4 Euro, you get assigned a time, show up at the Vatican at roughly that time, walk past the line, keep walking - it's a long line, walk some more, finally get to the front... "Excuse me sir, I have this ticket?" "Oh, sure go right in - this way!" That was, far and a way, the best 4 Euro I have spent in my entire life!
Oh, and the Vatican museums themselves... It's not just the Sistine Chapel (as I thought going in) - it's so very, very much more: room after room of paintings, sculpture, decorations, archaeological finds, and more. They are hard to describe, honestly, but suffice to say, the collection rivals the finest art exhibits you will find in the Louvre, in Florence, in London... The Egyptian wing may have an arguably finer collection of artifacts than the Egyptian Museum in Cairo (certainly better presented). The works by all the Italian masters are here - the decorations by Michelangelo and the Bernini's statues all immediately jump out at you. And all it takes is standing in line for three and a half hours ... or 4 Euro. Thank you, Hotello di Roma!
The Sistine Chapel. No, you are not allowed to take pictures in here, but everybody else was doing it...
One of the more interesting exhibits they have is a large section of modern religious art. I'm surprised at the mild oxymoron of the term 'modern religious' art, as well as the fact that the Vatican would deign to recognize the existence of such an art form...
The rest of Rome, I found more or less unchanged. It's busy, and vibrant; it's lacking in underground public transportation options, but it isn't lacking in Italians lounging about, cruising around on their Vespas at precarious speeds, not doing much of anything productive. There are ancient sites to see just about anywhere you look, and there's shops offering memorabilia from said sites indeed everywhere you look. Oh, and the food's excellent!
Piazza Navona, with a large Bernini sculpture decorating the fountain
It is called the city of fountains... and the Trevi fountain remains one of the stars
The Spanish Steps, at Piazza di Spagna, are most certainly home to more tourists than steps
Leaving Rome after three days, I was looking to fill in another gap in my earlier Italian itinerary: Pisa, and its precariously leaning tower. Last time I've been to Pisa, I had just enough time to change trains at the station - now I was stopping here for day. Pisa was, apparently, somewhat of your basic Italian backwater town for most of its history - a Cathedral was eventually built, it burned down, it was re-built; a bell tower was added... and then the Tower began to fall over. Slowly. Very slowly - slowly enough for the citizens of Pisa to stabilize it and turn it into a world famous attraction. Today, the tower (which, by the way, is quite remarkable in appearance, aside from the unhealthy lean) continues to stand askew, but it has been stabilized, the crumbling columns have been replaced, and the gradual falling has ceased, suspending the tower in its slightly askew state.
I knew most of the above before ever getting to Pisa. What I learned in Pisa is that there's more to it than just the Tower - there's a whole Piazza del Duomo: a picture-perfect plaza housing the Cathedral. It has rightfully gained the majority of its fame and notoriety for the precariously leaning tower, but the Duomo itself, along with the adjoining Campo dei Miracoli make for a remarkable medieval Italian scene in their own right.
Look - the Tower, it leans! I wasn't actually expecting the Tower to be as big as it is. I don't know why, but somehow I pictured it to be smaller. In reality, it's rather massive - easily visible along the streets before you arrive at the Piazza. The angle of the lean is also far more pronounced than I imagined
The Duomo and the Campo dei Miracoli - the other major characters of the Piazza
Honestly, there's not a whole lot else to see in the town of Pisa, and what you do see doesn't quite stack up to the prime attractions, but the Chiesa di Santa Maria Della Spina on the riverbank is worth a visit
Further noteworthy Pisa: the Nigerian mafia has followed the trail of tourists up here. In Rome they seemed to specialize in cheap umbrellas, crappy sun glasses (and they swap displays of one for the other with remarkable speed and efficiency depending on the conditions overhead), and souvenirs, which are both cheap and crappy. In Pisa, they assault the tourists with offers of Rolexes... and crappy souvenirs. I can't imagine why anyone would want to own a fake Rolex, no matter the price, but I did see someone negotiating on a purchase... people have weird tastes, obviously...
The sites of Pisa really don't need more than two, maybe three hours, so after snapping a few pictures of the Duomo and ducking the 'Rolex' salesmen, I had more than enough time to get back to the hostel and settle in to watch the final qualifying round game of Italy's national team at the World Cup, along with the Italians there. Italy played Slovakia. They had played rather uninspired football previously, so they needed a win. The Slovakians seemed unimpressed. The Italian that I was watching with, seemed despondent (and more than a little cynical) when their team was looking lethargic, down 2-1 deep into the second half. Then Italy scored a goal to tie it up! The whole street erupted in a wild, spontaneous celebration. They appeared intent to teach the South Africans just how to properly use a vuvuzelas in a time of football induced ecstasy... And then the referee ruled it a no goal (offsides - replays confirmed), and we settled into a sort of a dull stupor. In the end, Italy, a 3-2 loser to Slovakia, finished dead last in its group and failed to advance past the group stage for the first time in some 30 years. I don't speak Italian, but I could still tell that even the TV announcers sounded depressed... It could've been worse, I thought - after all, the French not only failed to advance past the group stage, but their team outright mutinied against the coach. The Italians didn't seem particularly encouraged by this neighborly comparison - I heard more about how the National Team's coach had refused to select the Italy's two top players for the squad - one for getting into an altercation with the coach's son, the other for being black... It was a decidedly depressed country on this day!
As I was wandering, somewhat aimlessly, around the city of Bristol, I came upon the St Nicholas Farmer's Market. To add to the excitement, 'Street Market Chefs' (a British cooking network-type show, I presume) was filming an episode at the market. I hung around to watch and was rewarded with the amu... Read MoreAs I was wandering, somewhat aimlessly, around the city of Bristol, I came upon the St Nicholas Farmer's Market. To add to the excitement, 'Street Market Chefs' (a British cooking network-type show, I presume) was filming an episode at the market. I hung around to watch and was rewarded with the amusing image above - the show's celebrity guest, whom the audience around me identified as a former rugby player, doing a taste test for the Street Market Chefs - of course, the meal of the day was a portobellini salad, and while, I admit, it's possible that the man may have discovered the joys of salads in his post-playing days, he sure doesn't look like he'd ever come anywhere near a salad while he was a player! Amanda Lamb, a British television pseudo-celebrity also in the picture... I never caught the rugby player's name.
Later that evening, it was the World Cup semifinals - Spain vs. Germany, while I was, of course, couch-surfing with Patricia and Christian (the two on the right) - she's Spanish, while he's German! My excitement was partly diminished when it turned out that Christian didn't really care about football all that much, so we all proceeded to cheer for Spain.
I must have actually driven a diesel vehicle before at some point. It obviously didn't leave much of a mark, since the only diesel experience I can think of was filling the mini up with Gazole (which I now know is French for diesel, not gasoline!) and learning that that was a rather expensive error ... Read MoreI must have actually driven a diesel vehicle before at some point. It obviously didn't leave much of a mark, since the only diesel experience I can think of was filling the mini up with Gazole (which I now know is French for diesel, not gasoline!) and learning that that was a rather expensive error to make. That's all changed now though - I'm going to remember this diesel!
I had decided I was going to drive through the French countryside, the Alps, and the Col de Turini (the 'best world's best driving road,' according to Top Gear) on the way up to Geneva. I would have liked a convertible for the trip, in fact I would have very dearly liked the convertible BMW that I used to own, but compromises have to be made, so I ended up with a Renault Megane, a fine sporty little French car, powered by a diesel engine. I called her Megan.
Megan[e] and I in Southern France
I left Montpellier and drove off towards Millau to see the giant bridge. Pretty soon, I was discovering just what we are missing in the States, where we don't have any of these sporty little diesels. It was a six-speed transmission, but in any gear, if you want to accelerate to pass, you just step on the gas, and the car takes off! I was mesmerized... I also had trouble keeping up with the speed limits... On occasion, I did glance at my gas gauge, soon discovering that it was refusing to change. A hundred kilometers passed by, it stubbornly showed the gas tank full. Damn, these things really do get good mileage... Another hundred kilometers passed by - still a full tank of gas! It must be broken!? Fifty K more - hot damn, we are down to 7/8ths! So it works then... this engine just doesn't use any fuel. That's a nice sidebar, of course, but I was here for the roads! I quickly ducked off the Autoroute after the Viaduc and headed deeper into the countryside along a route my map called Gorges du Tarn. True to its name, the road winds through mountains and a river bed following the gorge - the views it offers are spectacular, with little French towns dotting the side of the road, centuries-old church steeples punctuating the skyline at regular intervals. I started to think of what it could be reminding me of, and quickly came up with Albania: the very best roads across the empty deserted (but very similarly green) mountains in that long-lost European country were a lot like the roads here... well maybe the worst stretches of road here, in the South of France. And minus all the churches, of course...
Viaduc de Millau
The road along the Gorges du Tarn
Bright, pretty sunsets above the French countryside, shortly before I had popped into a fancy roadside winery/restaurant for dinner - tres Francaise!
But the drive across the Gorges du Tarn was, as it turned out, rather tame. Picturesque, but very tame indeed. The roads are fairly straight, and the elevation more or less constant. The real star of the driving show was to be Col de Turini, and that's where I headed the following morning. First, I struggled for an hour looking for my hostel in Nice, after arriving at two in the morning, without a map. An hour later, I was sound asleep though, looking forward to making Megan[e] conquer the Alps!
Center of Nice - Quai des Etats-Unis. Nice seemed a lovely sea-side resort town, where I would have liked to have spent more time - I have had more than one person tell me it was their favorite place in Europe... This wasn't in the cards this time through though as I was back on the road shortly after 11. I suppose I'll have to come back.
Oh, they are funny with their 'Do not Enter' signs here in Nice!
So, on I went, driving to the very last exit before the Italian border, then turning off onto a minor road winding up into the hills towards the town of Sospel. Here the road become tinier, windier, and devoid of traffic. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins. I pushed the car up into the rarefied heights of the Alps. I pushed it fairly aggressively in fact; pretty soon, my arms and legs were getting soar from all the shifting - I loved every last second of it! Shortly after leaving Sospel (around hairpin #7 - yes, I kept count), the road arrived at a little church sitting atop a hill. I was a bit reluctant to leave the road, but quite exhilarated to jog up the stairs to get a look at Notre Dame de la Menour and catch a glimpse of the twists and turns I'd conquered leading up to it!
That's my road!
This is called a 'hairpin' turn, mom - it's when the road makes a full 180 degree turn in direction - usually while climbing up or down the mountain
Notre Dame de la Menour, on a mountainside in the middle of nowhere
Jesus still suffering - clearly the man didn't drive up here!
Around hairpin #27, I arrived at the village of Col de Turini - the high point of this section of road. Most other people on the road, not that were many, were German bikers
Little tunnels carved into the rock, as I was heading down
French towns in the High Alps - I believe this was Saint-Martin-Vesubie
At hairpin #40, the Col De Turini section was finished and I stopped for lunch. I figured I could stop counting hairpins at this point, since I was switching to a fairly straight road towards Jausiers. At least my map showed the next section of the road as being fairly straight, on the way up towards Geneva - I drove on, the road was heading up all right - in fact, this "fairly straight road" turned out to be Route de la Bonette - the highest road in Europe, traversing a 2,802 meter pass. It was windy, and twisty, and incredibly scenic. Adrenaline remained in high gear. The scenery now had some new additions - snow banks, spectacular views of the Alps in the distance, an occasional waterfall, and flocks of sheep crossing the road. The Megan[e] and I were excited! The diesel purred to life as I pushed the car up to the top of the 2,800m pass - that's only the highest elevation the road reaches, I got out and climbed the last 100 meters to the top of the peak we were passing, losing a few more degrees of temperature. Suddenly my flip flops, so perfect for the beaches in Nice, seemed a little out of place... And that was before it started to rain and hail. I returned to the car a bit soaked and with some fresh concerns about the windy, twisty road heading down the mountain, now with slicker pavement. Excitement did not, however, wane very much. Fortunately, the rain did wane, as the cloud apparently extended only to the very top of the pass, as after half an hour climbing down the hill, I was once again back to a perfectly dry road. With occasional flocks of sheep, waterfalls, authentic French/Swiss Alps houses, and slow cars that gave me regular chances to push my little diesel into over-drive past them. At one point, I [briefly] found myself behind a Porsche though - he wasn't so slow...
Not the Southern Alps, nor the Japanese Alps - these are the real thing! The ones that Hannibal somehow crossed with a bunch of elephants and without paved roads. I have no idea how they did it!
The Megan[e] blending in with the snow banks, in black and white
A couple of hours later, I was crossing from Italy back to France, this time under the Alps - via the Tunnel de Frejus. A 35km tunnel bored into the mountainside is one of the longest in the world. Speed limit in the tunnel: 70 kph - it takes a while. Cost: $35.10 Euro! In retrrospect, I would have rather skipped it, had I known that was the cost!
And here, the Alps came to an end (the adrenaline rush lived on for a couple of days though). The mini may have made me a little leery of traveling long distances by car any more, but given a good car, and fun roads, and a relatively manageable distance, driving is still an incredibly fun way to get around! But on this day, I was done - after paying a few more tolls (you can't really afford to drive around Europe anymore), I arrived in Geneva just in time to watch the streets explode in celebration after Brazil's World Cup victory over Chile. There's a few things I had imagined about the city of Geneva - crowds of Brazilians out in the streets, wildly cheering on their football team, wasn't high on the list...
So, there I was enjoying the Switzerland the way it was meant to be enjoyed - climbing up a windy, twisty path in the Alps with a big blue glacier looking down on me invitingly.That's the glacier!Lynn and I had just spent an hour hiking to get up here, but she had to turn back at this point, hoping ... Read MoreSo, there I was enjoying the Switzerland the way it was meant to be enjoyed - climbing up a windy, twisty path in the Alps with a big blue glacier looking down on me invitingly.
That's the glacier!
Lynn and I had just spent an hour hiking to get up here, but she had to turn back at this point, hoping to catch an earlier bus and get back to Geneva in time to take Loki out for a walk (yes, Lynn named her dog after the Norse God of mischief). I kept going, the path quicly turned twisty, windy, narrow, and steeply climbing. I felt this was just fine - I was, in fact, pretty excited about the whole thing. I was just upset that I wouldn't have time to reach the ridge above me and get a glimpse of Mont Blanc... but you can't have everything. Regardless, the path I was happy with. Turns out, not everyone shared in my excitment - the first sign of trouble was when I ran into a Spanish couple hurrying down the mountain and asking me [in Spanish] how far it was to anything down below. My brain initially refused to accept the situation and had to do a double-take - they are not talking to me in French, but I understand, must be English, right? No, don't understand that well - oh, right, Spanish... There's a little restaurant a little ways down below - you can probably get there in twenty minutes, treinta tops! What's going on? Turned out, a little ways up above there was a woman who had broken her leg. I considered the path we were climbing and decided this didn't seem entirely unexpected, unfortunate nonetheless.
By this point, I couldn't climb much further up the mountain anyway if I were to make the last bus back to Martingy, so I settled for simply going up to investigate. I discovered two women, both probably in their 40's or maybe early 50's - one in seemingly good spirits, but with a broken ankle, which was starting to swell; the other seeming a bit frazzled. We chatted a bit - I started with Spanish, they turned out to not be Spanish. Didn't speak any English either, so we were stuck with French - the chatting was rather limited. The frazzled one was on the phone with someone trying to explain where we were - I produced a map and pointed roughly to our location. It didn't seem to help the other end of the line all that much - I wished I knew more French. By now, I figured friends or family, not rescue personnel, had to be on the other end of the line - we started talking about trying to make it down the mountain. I offered that I'd be perfectly happy to take her pack down - I actually think that's all she had really wanted, but through some combination of misunderstandings and my trying to help, we decided to see if she could make it down to the hut-restaurant below herself as well. We tried to come up with some sort of a workable way of getting down without putting any weight on the broken foot, which was a challenge, since the path was tiny, twisty, and steep. Eventually we settled on slow progress with me holding the woman around the waist, while she hopped along on one foot.
By now, I was starting to give up on the bus, figuring I could always hitch-hike my way down to the train station at the bottom of the mountain, so I could play Good Samaritan for a while - maybe learn how to say 'broken ankle' in French. So, we hopped for a while. Not entirely surprisingly, it turned out to be fairly tiring for both of us - we took a break. The frazzled one was worried too. We chatted - they asked about my bus. I, in turn, asked if they had a car taking them down the mountain? No, they were staying somewhere in the mountains and had some sort of a car arrangement (that I wasn't entirely clear on), that would pick them up, if and when they made it down the mountain. Or maybe, they'd send a helicopter... Either way, I should probably go and catch my bus... and see what the Spanish had managed to accomplish down at the hut?
Fine... after a few more assurances of calm and safety, I grabbed her pack, and took off down the mountain. Well, the first thing I actually did was trip myself and watched a rock accelerate at an alarmingly high speed towards my face, but I've still got hands for occasions such as these, so I came away largely unscathed. And proceeded down the mountain, a little more carefully this time. The Spanish were, in fact, waiting down at the bottom of the hill. I tried switching from French to Spanish to explain to them what I had learned, but my brain refused to process language switches quite that quickly - fortunately, they now had somebody that spoke English with them. My brain acquiesced to processing English. A few minutes later, Spanish became acceptable too, so I learned that the Spanish were from Tenerife, and lo and behold, they had been up in the Swiss Alps just last year too, when she had also broken her leg - and had to be airlifted out by helicopter... interesting... Anyway, I headed on down towards my bus, while the English speaker, whom I gathered to be some sort of a guide, hastened up the hill to try and help the two women get down. The people at the restaurant had apparently just shrugged their shoulders at the report of the injury, so a rescue team was probably not imminent. The Swiss seem pretty calm and stoic...
Anyway, I headed down the mountain, reflecting that all I was missing at that point was somebody speaking to me in Russian about what had happened. I've no idea what happened in the end, but from where I had left them, getting down to the little restaurant shouldn't have been all that difficult with the help of the guide. And from the restaurant, they could probably get a stretcher, so she'd be fine, presumably - just a memorable day in the mountains! Probably not even a helicopter ride to add to the excitement... Supposedly, a doctor was coming to see them wherever it was that they were staying.
As for the Alps!
The Trient Glacier stretches for 4.3km in the Mont Blanc Massif, flanked by a pair of snow-capped peaks
I've been to the Southern Alps in New Zealand, and the Japanese Alps in, well, Japan - finally time to see the originals!
Stream of snow-melt heading down from the glacier
Just wouldn't be Switzerland without cows grazing in the mountains, cow-bells ringing
Switzerland, I've discovered, is also rather fond of some utterly random sculpture, like this Minatour in the middle of Martingy
Welcome to the City of Lights! The Eiffel Tower presiding over in the middle of the nightOr would you prefer a more artsy black and white version of the tower?How about an artist's rendition of the Tower from the Musee Pompidou?I like Paris...... Read More
Welcome to the City of Lights! The Eiffel Tower presiding over in the middle of the night
Or would you prefer a more artsy black and white version of the tower?
How about an artist's rendition of the Tower from the Musee Pompidou?
Yes, there are a few things that I understand - for instance: - the Catholic Church, just like most other religious institutions is constantly competing to win (and keep) the souls (and wallets) of the common man, and building giant, imposing religious structures has always been a sure fire way of p... Read MoreYes, there are a few things that I understand - for instance:
- the Catholic Church, just like most other religious institutions is constantly competing to win (and keep) the souls (and wallets) of the common man, and building giant, imposing religious structures has always been a sure fire way of proving to the populace that your deity's the most awesomest
- even so, the church itself didn't actually have to build all the awe-inspiring churches and cathedrals that you find scattered all over Europe; lots of them got built by rich nobles, hoping to curry favor from the church. In this life or the next.
I understand all that, but still, sometimes it's just a bit of overkill. Take the French city of Lyon: it's got a nice, beautiful, and appropriately imposing Cathedral:
The Cathedral St-Jean - you'd think it ought to really be enough to convince most mortal commoners that your deity is, in fact, the awesomest
Some beautiful stained glass windows inside too
But here, in Lyon, that was apparently deemed insufficient. Maybe they were feeling a little threatened by all the Protestants across the border in nearby Swiss Geneva. Or maybe the nobles here just had more than their fair share of sins to atone for. Whatever the reason, enough people felt that the Cathedral just wasn't doing its job, and felt obliged to erect a second gigantic church, on a hill directly above the Cathedral St-Jean, and overlooking the entire city of Lyon:
And a Chapel standing next door - the Virgin Mary guards the city from her perch - she's credited with saving Lyon from both the plague in the 17th century and the Prussians in the 19th century...
Was in necessary? Was the second church the difference between losing dozens of souls (and wallets) to Calvin and his Swiss Protestants? Who knows, but for now, Lyon has a pair of amazing churches. I might not understand the Catholic Church, but it's a good setup for the tourism industry!
Viaduc de MillauThis is the Millau Viaduct, a 400+ million Euro project in the South of France completed fairly recently, in December 2004. It's a gigantic bridge, as you can probably appreciate, spanning the valley above the town of Millau. Several records were set over the course of design and con... Read More
Viaduc de Millau
This is the Millau Viaduct, a 400+ million Euro project in the South of France completed fairly recently, in December 2004. It's a gigantic bridge, as you can probably appreciate, spanning the valley above the town of Millau. Several records were set over the course of design and construction, it's the tallest bridge in the world (taller than the Eiffel Tower), and has highest support pillar - yeah, somebody does keep track of such things... apparently! The entire project only took about three years from start to finish too, which seems quite impressive. Especially here in France, where the work week is only 35 hours anyway, and that's if we are not on strike that week!
The cool thing about this bridge though is that in addition to the functional part of alleviating traffic in the valley, it's also actually quite a picturesque site to look at... And on that note, some other memorable bridges around the world:
The Coolest (also the Oldest, actually) - the Forth Bridge outside Edinburgh, Scotland. Looking better than ever at night
The Best - San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge. Who knows if I'm biased or not, but it's hard not to love the looks of this bridge!
The Highest: Viaducto de Polvorilla - a railroad bridge outside of Salta, Argentina, the base is at an altitude of 4,200 meters above sea level
The most, Australian? Sydney's Harbor Bridge, yes it gets bonus points in this 'competition' for having the Sydney Opera House right beside it, life's not fair!
The Most Old School - for all its old world flare, London's Tower Bridge was actually constructed some thirty years later than the Forth Bridge above. I prefer the more modern-looking types, but it's surely quite the famous bridge
Tongariro Crossing, New Zealand - nope, I'm not picking on New Zealand here, I really did very much like these littel bridges in the Tongariro National Park of New Zealand. Carrying capacity: one 'tramper,' a.k.a. hiker in the rest of the world.
Some views of the Brooklyn Bridge coming in a couple of weeks, I hope!
While I'm prancing all around Egypt and Israel, taking trains, boats, buses, and planes, you've been quietly wondering - say, I sure would like to know what ever happened to the mini? Well, never fear, we have an update! Gunnar, back in Seattle, is now fully in charge of running the affairs of the m... Read MoreWhile I'm prancing all around Egypt and Israel, taking trains, boats, buses, and planes, you've been quietly wondering - say, I sure would like to know what ever happened to the mini? Well, never fear, we have an update! Gunnar, back in Seattle, is now fully in charge of running the affairs of the mini. First step of the process is to tear everything that was still left on the car apart (he reports finding even more rust than originally expected, and a bit of dust whose origins are likely Mongolia, or a country whose name ends in stan). Next step will be to put it all back together using new, not-yet-rusted parts and build it up to be better than it had been ever before! And finally, he'll get rid of the fluorescent color... That's all going to take a while, a long while, in the mean time, Step 1:
All that's left is the shell! And the fluorescent yellow...
Ok, I've been a little hard on Egypt recently. And it probably deserved it too, but I should give [some] credit where [some] credit is due. So, Egypt... the ancient land of Pyramids, the land of amazing Arabic architecture, the land of magical stretches of sand lining the Red Sea.Starting from the b... Read MoreOk, I've been a little hard on Egypt recently. And it probably deserved it too, but I should give [some] credit where [some] credit is due. So, Egypt... the ancient land of Pyramids, the land of amazing Arabic architecture, the land of magical stretches of sand lining the Red Sea.
Starting from the beginning, Irina and I crossed over from Israel and headed straight for the beach town of Dahab. Dahab was easily my favorite spot in Egypt - it's still Egypt, with all the negative connotations that carries in my mind, but, at least, this is a place where backpackers have always come, and while it's all grown up now (with a variety of all-inclusive resorts - we stayed at one of these), the few backpackers that still come to Egypt, do still come here, which gives the place a much more easy going vibe than anywhere else in this country. And then, there's the gorgeous sandy beaches ... it's just a beautiful place to relax for a few days. To wit:
Dahab means 'Golden' in Arabic - the beautiful golden beaches of Dahab, Egypt...
Inside of the Coralia Resort. Definite bonus points for atmosphere!
Zizo! I can't remember what it was that Irina called his position at the resort, but he was definitely in charge of keeping the guests entertained, and he certainly did a great job of it.
Irina in white, meet Irina in black... It's a small world, and there's lots of Russian tourists all over Sinai, some of them named Irina
Just our Irina, being one with the beach
Next stop was Sharm el-Sheikh. I'm certainly not like most other tourists (in my defense, I was slowly winning Irina over to my side), but while millions of tourists descend upon Sharm every year and seem to absolutely love it, I could best describe it as an abomination. An absolute abomination filled with too many people, so many in fact that the locals have long ago become terribly, horribly jaded, making them even more incredibly unpleasant to deal with, than your average Egyptian purveyor of crappy merchandise. And the place looks like an over-grown shopping mall, straight out of the American suburbs, with a bit more neon and loud music thrown in. Subtle, it is not. Over-priced, it is... And yet people seem to love it - I don't really understand people. Anyway, the only worthwhile thing we did here was a camel ride, but I'm punishing Sharm el-Sheikh anyway by not including any pictures, so moving on:
Cairo! Cairo is everything that is right and everything that is wrong with Egypt. Cairo is the home of the Pyramids, the magnificent and mind-bending structures that are over 5,000 years old!
trivia time: Q: the Great Pyramid of Khufu was 146 meters tall when construction was completed in 2570 BC. When was the first building constructed that was taller than this Pyramid?
A. 1889, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, which reached 324m in height. Being in Egypt, you note that our civilization might really not have advanced all that much in the past 5,000 years!
The ancient (well, not that ancient, compared to the Pyramids) mosques are also here, and Christian churches dating back to the times of Jesus. It's the market hub of Egypt, where you can buy anything, and somebody will always be trying to sell you something, usually something you don't actually want. And then there's the streets of Cairo... I'm glad they have a subway system! The traffic is nothing short of amazing - the way these people drive is hard to even describe, but suffice to say that you are taking your life into your own hands every time you try to cross the road. But, we are not focusing on all that right now, today, we are highlighting 'amazing Egypt,' so:
The Great Pyramids of Giza!
The Sphinx stoically guards the Pyramids
You are not supposed to take pictures inside the Pyramids... But I did anyway - take that, Egypt!
Baby Sphinx in nearby Memphis
The Mosque of Mohammed Ali in Cairo
A beautiful courtyard lies behind the Mosque
The Al Azhar Mosque, "the mosque of the most resplendent", the oldest Mosque in Cairo - construction began in 970. Impressive. They tried to make a God-fearing woman out of Irina before letting us enter, can't guarantee it worked.
Man reading the Qur'an in the courtyard of the mosque
Cairo was Irina's last stop - I escorted her to the airport, she took off for her long flight back to the real world, I remained in Egypt. If you've been reading my last few blog posts, that may have been somewhat of a mistake in the grand scheme of things, but let's not forget the amazing, there were certainly more things to see in this country. So, I boarded a 'tourist train' down to Luxor and arrived the following morning, quite comfortably, which was a little surprising. The 'tourist train' is actually pretty good value compared to the rest of the world, but is, of course, ridiculously more expensive than the normal Egyptian trains. This would be perfectly fine with me, if I, as a tourist, wasn't restricted from taking the regular trains... But I digress, Luxor!
Luxor is up the Nile and South of Cairo. Here, you are getting into what was once the Upper Nile, which was, of course, a separate kingdom and spent a lot of time fighting the Lower Nile. And then, they moved their burial sites to the Lower Nile and built the Pyramids... Twist of fate. But most importantly, at this point, Luxor is South of Cairo! And Cairo is in Africa, and it was June, and I thought my brain was going to melt. After I left my things at the hotel and headed out towards the tombs and temples, I passed by a thermometer in the center of the city - it read a remarkable 42 degrees! Celsius! And I actually thought this was Ok. That's 107.6 degrees Fahrenheit, by the way, and this was at 10 in the morning. Now, I could have taken an air conditioned car to see Luxor. This is true, and it would have been almost comfortable. However, it would have involved talking to and negotiating with an Egyptian 'fixer' on the street, who would then proceed to drive like a maniac and somehow disappoint me in the end. I wasn't in the mood, so I rented a bicycle. And proceeded to pedal against the 42 degree heat... and rising. I drank lots of water - I thought it wasn't bad, really. Still do - my brains may have melted... Since it wasn't all that bad, I parked my bike in front of the Temple of Hatshesput and proceeded to hike over a nearby ridge to the Valley of the Kings. I drank lots more water. And I stopped in every bit of shade that I could find. It continued to be miserably hot - actually it got better on the far side of the ridge where there was some wind. When I came down into the Valley of the Kings, the locals seemed pretty impressed that I had walked over the ridge, so I'm still able to impress the populace - that's worth something, right? After wandering around the Valley of the Kings for a little while, refusing to pay for the entire admission ticket (in part because it would have involved walking all the way over to the ticket booth at the main entrance - apparently they don't expect a lot of tourists to hike the goat paths over the ridge), I proceeded to bribe a guard to let me into one of the more far flung tombs (it was pretty impressive) and promptly went back over the ridge to pick up my bike. An hour and a half later, I was back at the Nile and returning the bike back to the rental shop.
This could have been a good time to stop, go back to my hotel (AC'd!) and take a nap. However, I was determined to just spend one day in Luxor, still harboring thoughts and hopes of getting a few more days for diving on the coast), so I headed up to the Temple of Karnak instead. This temple is absolutely amazing - it's gigantic, constructed, and added to over the course of several centuries by a succession of pharaohs and featuring columns grander and thicker than any I had seen in Rome and Athens (more of the how far have we really come in the past 5,000 years?). It was also stiflingly hot at 3 in the afternoon, and most of the temple is in an open area. Very open, very sun-lit, so I sort of dragged myself through the motions of documenting what was there and proceeded to head home. The good news was that I was tired enough that ignoring the touts along the way selling whatever was perfectly easy by now - just a non-chalant No, and moving on...
The final stop on the way home was the Luxor Temple... it did seem interesting, especially since somebody had apparently decided to place a mosque right in the middle of it. I looked at it and rolled over those thoughts in my head. Then I took some pictures of the temple (and the mosque) from the outside and went back to my room for a richly deserved nap!
The Colossi of Memnon greet you at the entrance to Luxor's West Bank
Deir al-Bahri, home of the Temple of Hatshesput. View from above as I was climbing up the ridge
My friend, the guard at the tomb. No, I can't remember whose tomb it actually was - an ancient Pharaoh! The guard was a nice guy too and did his best to have me enjoy my tour of the tomb. On the down side, the man smelled horribly and didn't speak a word of English, but we were able to establish some common ground on terms like Tomba, Pharaoh, and Scarab
The Papyrus Forest of columns at the Temple of Karnak. Really, if we were able to build columns this impressive in 2,500BC, how far have we come as a civilization?
The Luxor Temple, with the Mosque strategically (if perplexingly) placed right in the middle
And finally, the last stop before my Hurghada retreat was Aswan. It's even further South and, thus even hotter. I suppose my brain was fully melted by now, so I didn't care very much. Fortunately, there's not all that much to see in Aswan proper - there's a big mosque, an even bigger Christian Church, and an even bigger yet mosque under construction... Woo-hoo! The attraction here is Abu Simbel, which is another 3 hour bus ride South, almost all the way to the border with Sudan. The thoroughly amazing thing about the Abu Simbel temples is that they were going to be lost forever when Egypt built the Great Dam on the Nile, causing the water levels up the river to rise, and threatening to flood the Temple. To prevent this, international organizations (with a little bit of Egyptian input and assistance) raised a bunch of money and proceeded to cut the entire temple into portable pieces and move the entire thing, piece by freaking piece, to a new location, 65 meters higher, and safely away from the rising waters... Say what you will about the Egyptians, but that's pretty astounding. When you actually get there, very early in the morning - the bus departs Aswan at 3AM(!) and see the temples in person, it becomes even more astounding! Clearly impressed by their abilities, the archaeologists later proceeded to move the Temple of Phillae to higher ground as well. Also impressive, especially since this temple was already flooded when they started, so part of the work had to be done under water...
The Great Temple of Ramses II, dug into the side of a mountain at Abu Simbel is simply astounding. The Pyramids are surely the greatest attraction of Egypt, but I do think this was the most memorable site.
The nearby Temple of Hathor isn't too shabby either
Lake Nasser, the largest man-made lake in the world. This surely seems like a record ripe for the taking by the Chinese - they clearly just don't know about it yet
The artwork decorating the Temple of Philae - once again, considering that this was all created several thousand years before Jesus Christ even came along, it kind of makes a lot of what we've accomplished since pale in comparison a bit
Well, and that's it, really. The other thoroughly amazing part of Egypt is the underwater life in the Red Sea, but I feel like that's been covered thoroughly enough in my earlier posts, so that's Egypt for you! On to Tunisia and Italy!
* India has a long running campaign to promote tourism with the tagline of "Amazing India." Well, Egypt and India have a lot in common - both places that have some fascinating sites to see, yet both places that I was happy to leave after some three weeks in each. The reasons are different, and I've had plenty of people tell me that they had fallen in love with each (after a long adjustment period), but tying 'Amazing Egypt' to 'Amazing India' seems all too appropriate
It starts off as a rumble of not-so-distant thunder. Then the sound quickly escalates into the roar of a jet engine at take off. By now, it has your complete attention, so you are staring at the column of fire (and, well, brimstone) that's shooting twenty or thirty feet up into the air from the top ... Read MoreIt starts off as a rumble of not-so-distant thunder. Then the sound quickly escalates into the roar of a jet engine at take off. By now, it has your complete attention, so you are staring at the column of fire (and, well, brimstone) that's shooting twenty or thirty feet up into the air from the top of the crater! That's Stromboli; it does this about every 20 minutes, and has been doing so for the past 40,000 years, roughly. It's a tiny little spec of an island off the coast of Sicily, which is one of the youngest, and thus most active, volcanoes in the world. But it's not real big on huge, destructive lava flows, just a column of fire every 20 minutes to entertain the tourists.
Remember when you had the Roman Empire? When the only people you couldn't conquer were the ones you couldn't find? How about the Roman Catholic Church? As grand as the Roman Empire was, the church spread its influence even wider! And then what happened? Is that how the Roman Empire actually fell? Wh... Read MoreRemember when you had the Roman Empire? When the only people you couldn't conquer were the ones you couldn't find? How about the Roman Catholic Church? As grand as the Roman Empire was, the church spread its influence even wider! And then what happened? Is that how the Roman Empire actually fell? When the Barbarians figured out that nobody did anything between the hours of 12 and 4 in the afternoon? Cause they sure don't these days. Can I buy a ferry ticket at 2:30? No, come back at 4. Can I get a map of Palermo, from the tourist information kiosk outside the central train station at 1? No, closed till 4. Can I find out about renting a scooter at 3:15? No, somebody'll be here some time after 4... But it sure is pretty! Which just makes you wonder - how did they build all those amazing things if nobody works during the day?
I ended up spending a full week in Hurghada - it's not that I actually liked it, no, it was just comfortable, my hotel had AC and internet, and diving was cheap, easy, and nearby. After a couple of dyas of local dive trips though, grander things came calling, and I agreed to go South to Marsa Alam f... Read MoreI ended up spending a full week in Hurghada - it's not that I actually liked it, no, it was just comfortable, my hotel had AC and internet, and diving was cheap, easy, and nearby. After a couple of dyas of local dive trips though, grander things came calling, and I agreed to go South to Marsa Alam for a day of diving there; after all Marsa Alam is about as good as it gets for diving in Egypt.
Marsa Alam: so beautiful... so empty...
Sting ray on lying on the bottom in Marsa Alam
Coral Reefs, with lots of fish all around
But it is Egypt, so the trip went terribly right from the start - I was taking a bus, instead of a private car (even though I was still paying the price of a private car?), the bus was taking five hours to get there, instead of the three I'd been told, and the bus was two hours late - well, sadly, it was actually only an hour and 57 minutes late as I had set 7AM as my deadline to call the whole thing off, but the bus finally showed up at 6:57. I should have called the whole thing off... instead, I went to Marsa Alam, the Yin of Egypt came along, or the Yin of the people of Egypt is perhaps better. It's a simple pattern really, that never fails to repeat: first they overcharge you, then they proceed to under-deliver...
So, somewhere around hour five of the "three hour trip to Marsa Alam", I was sitting by a window, watching the Red Sea slowly pass by, quietly raging, and passing the time composing the scathing review of the Hurghada tourist services I was going to write (but the passing scenery was nice). Then the Yang arrived: a bunch of kids boarded the bus in Al Quesir. One of them sat down next to me at first, did not speak any English, just called me 'Habibi!' (common term of endearment, literally meaning something like 'my lovely'). A bit of re-shuffling came forth in a few minutes, and I was now sitting next to Said. Said spoke English, made fun of the other kid a little, and explained that they were all heading to the beaches around Marsa Alam to sell newspapers on the water-front. At exorbitantly inflated prices, of course. But since I had no interest in the papers, we just chatted for a bit. Said comes from Cairo, he had attended university there studying to become an accountant, but upon receiving his degree and spending six months looking for work in Cairo, gave up and came out to the coast and sell papers by day and work at a restaurant by evening. I'm sure I would have hated him were he to approach me on the beach and try to sell me yesterday's paper for ten times its cost, but here on the bus, where he wasn't trying to make a sale, he was a genuinely nice kid, and fun to talk to. He explained about the lack of jobs in Cairo, his nine years of studying English which, in reality, does not appear to help much in the job search, and how he liked the Russian girls because they were happy to talk to him, even though he was a mere paper boy - the British, on the other hand, were all stuck up and just thumbed their noses at him... Consequently, his collection of girlfriends presently included two in Russia, one in Switzerland, and an object of affection here in Egypt, who was apparently marrying another, richer, man... I wished him the best of luck with the Russians... The Yang of Egyptians: those exceedingly rare moments when you can have a conversation with an Egyptian man, who is actually not trying to sell you something.
The Yin survived and prospered, of course, as the great under-delivery of Marsa Alam continued right on course when I finally arrived - we were going shore diving, instead of the boat diving I had been promised (shore diving is an interesting experience to try, but is not what I had in mind when agreeing to get on a bus at 5 in the morning... which left at 7. Oh wait, 6:57 actually!) The shore diving, naturally, reduced my desires down to just two dives, instead of the three I thought I was going to be doing, but poor Imad was incredulous that I wanted to pay less for my two dives than I had originally agreed to pay for three. By now, I just laughed at him, fairly openly. His dive master had let the normal prices slip beforehand, so I was paying double anyway. The five hour bus journey back turned into an hour and a half by bus followed by two hours in the back of a cramped ancient Peugeot, whose driver seemed intent to kill us all. I did get a measure of revenge the next day when I yelled at Ali, my fixer, and got him to return a quarter of what I had paid for my disappointing experience. I'm not entirely sure where exactly to place Ali on the Yin/Yang scale as he actually seemed a reasonable fellow, and did come through with both my hotel and the diving in Hurghada. And I did watch him set up the Marsa Alam trip with another 'associate', who didn't looked so reasonable, or trustworthy, actually he had more of a look of a used car salesman. An exceedingly sleazy one at that. I later found him to be utterly incredulous that I had chosen to pay less for my two dives than what had been previously agreed upon as the price for three dives. He may have presented it in somewhat more convoluted terms... Regardless, whether my man Ali really was getting screwed himself or if he was just trying to re-assign blame to make me feel better, getting some of my money back was a major victory (and a minor financial one), especially as that's normally an outright impossible proposition here in Egypt.
On the way back in the evening: Egypt's listening... Somewhat ironic actually - the censorship turns out to be much stricter in Tunisia
So, I filed this whole experience away... Somewhere under 'if you found a place in Egypt that doesn't offend you much, like Hurghada, just stick with it already!' Following that line of reasoning, I promptly decided to skip Alexandria, since I was by now sure that it would be disappointing and frustrating and caught the bus straight to Cairo to get to the airport. Yin and Yang came along for the ride. First up to bat: Yin. The bus is 'scheduled' (as much as schedules exist in this country) for 3 in the afternoon. I arrived at around 2:20 - I didn't have much to do anyway. The bus showed up at about 2:45 and ... promptly left at 2:50. An Egyptian bus might leave two hours later than scheduled, or 10 minutes earlier - plan accordingly, and by that I mean, try not to have any plans riding on the bus arriving (or departing) anywhere at any prescribed time.
But, alas, the bus didn't actually leave Hurghada, he left the bus station, circled through the city to the bus depot, dropped us off and took off, with some vague promises to come back 'shortly'. In the hour that passed, I had time to make friends with the Yang - I met Hany, an Egyptian now working at a hotel in Dubai, but formerly a tour leader in Egypt. An interesting guy to talk to - spoke perfectly good English and was also frustrated with the unreliability of the Egyptian buses. If anybody's going to Dubai (and I certainly would like to some day...), I can hook you up with some help! Hany also, of course, has a Russian girlfriend - in fact, he's on to his second one. But this one is all of 21 years old, so he didn't particularly trust her.
So, Hany, the Yang of Egypt - the man was smart, knowledgeable, easy to talk to, and shared most of my frustrations about the place. He didn't prove to be entirely without some local mis-judgments though, as we talked about car prices in Egypt. Apparently, a Toyota here costs slightly less than it does in the States. But 75,000 Pounds is much more difficult to come by for an Egyptian than the equivalent $13,500 is for an American, he countered. Quite true, I offered, but do you expect Toyota to sell cars at a loss in Egypt out of compassion for the impoverished people of the country? He was definitely still the Yang though - we chatted, he helped me try and figure out where to go upon arriving in Cairo. This was nice... then the bus finally came back: Yin happens... how much is a ticket to Cairo, I had inquired (more than once). Well, prices in Egypt are never posted - it's a little harder to over-charge tourists if you actually post prices, you see - so I first happened to ask my sleazy car salesman. He told my 75 Pounds, I assumed he was lying, just on the off-chance that I would actually ask him to get me the ticket. I figured I'd rather walk to Cairo than ask for his help, but I digress. He was, of course, lying - I asked the ticket office, they said 55 Pounds. I asked Hany, he too said 55. I gave 70 pounds. I got five in change. I complained - Hany translated. The man matter of factly stated that the tourist price was 65 Pounds. I declared Bullshit, Hany apologized, the ticket seller walked away. I figured I had a better shot at getting one of his teeth than getting any money back. Yin happens, you are in the wrong country to be crying over 10 pounds (almost $2 - pick your battles!). The bus approached Cairo, the Yin percolated on board... finally deciding to demonstrate that it's an equal opportunity affliction and can haunt the locals too (especially the ones who stray from the true path of robbing tourists... with a smile): you see, Hany's parents lived not far from the airport. The airport wasn't on the way, but there was a convenient spot along the way for him to get dropped off. And since it wasn't all that far from the airport, I was going to get off there as well, and my taxi to the airport would be cheaper than one from downtown Cairo. Would have been, I should say, as this was an excellent plan, of course, and Hany shared it with the driver, in fluent Egyptian Arabic. The driver signaled his approval. We arrived in downtown Cairo... Remember the smiling kid in Hurghada with the apparent learning disability? The driver probably had the same condition... It's called the Yin of Egypt.
To summarize: Egypt has an embarrassment of riches when it comes to world class attractions - from the ancient temples and Pyramids of Giza, Luxor, and Aswan, to the dynamic cities like Cairo, Alexandria, and (for some) Sharm el-Sheikh, to natural wonders like the Red Sea, the Nile, and the vast deserts. It is absolutely worth visiting. Egypt also has some really nice people. These people, unfortunately, can be hard to find. The vast majority of the people are greedy, lying, unscrupulous bastards, who have heard their politicians talk about the difficult economic conditions of the country (likely caused by the same greedy and unscrupulous people never paying any taxes) long enough to feel it is their absolute right (and responsibility) to extort money from the tourists who come anywhere near them. And if you don't choose to come near them, they will come chase after you. If you ask my advice, I'd just say reward them for their behavior by staying away, but if you do decide to go anyway - the place does have all those amazing attractions after all - take a tour! It will, of course, over-charge and under-deliver too, but at least they'll take care of all the negotiating for you, so you'll get ripped just that one time when you buy the package ticket, and when your bus will be delayed for an hour for no good reason whatsoever (and yes, it will be), you'll have someone to yell at!
The Great Pyramid of Khufu - Giza, Egypt
I'm so excited, my pants are going to split at the seams in three... two... one... now!
The Mosque of Mohammmed Ali (no, not the American boxer!) - Cairo, Egypt
The forest of columns at the Temples of Karnak - Luxor Egypt. To think that all these massive things were built nearly five thousand years ago absolutely blows your mind!
The Great Temple of Ramses II in Abu Simbel
Larger Scale: the Yin and Yang of Northern Africa.
Egypt threw one final piece of smelly Yin my way on my way out, when my flight to Tunis was delayed from 9:30PM to 2:30AM, but five extra hours weren't enough - we finally left another hour later. I could blame TunisAir, the Tunisian airline, but I think it's Egypt's fault! And, eventually, leave we did! And after a couple of hours, we had landed in Tunisia. And yes, of course, Egypt was still being very fresh in my mind, but Tunisia seemed like such an amazing breath of fresh air! Prices are posted, the people are helpful (without expecting a tip in return for their help), the buses are easy to navigate. There is no army of angry, foul-smelling cab drivers offering their services in place of the bus that is "no longer running." People do come up on the street trying to sell something, but when you just say 'No, Thanks,' they actually leave you alone... And every conversation doesn't start with 'Where you come from?' Better yet, the locals go to all the same places that the tourists go, which, keeps the prices in check (helps that they are posted too). I've also met some wonderful people here in Tunis, after finally deciding to give CouchSurfing a chance - they spent a large chunk of their Sunday showing me around the city. CouchSurfing, for the un-initiated, is a website that connects people with couches with other people that want to spend a night or two sleeping on said couches - it's like a community thing. Everybody gets reviews, both the hosts and the surfers, so you, generally, try to not stay with people who get described as rapists and murderers. I'd never used the service myself before, but I've met many a traveler that swears by it - a free place to stay, and you meet interesting local people who are more than happy to show you around their town, time permitting, or at least tell you what to do. Then Irina and I got a place for the night at the Kibbutz on the Dead Sea using CouchSurfing (which worked out incredibly well), so I was ready to give it a try myself, and so far, I'm extremely pleased with the outcome!
But this place does quite well as the Yang to Egypt's Yin of Africa in its own right. It's cleaner, it's greener, it's quieter, it's calmer. The traffic isn't as horrendous as Cairo's; the attractions are better preserved; the people have some understanding of the concept of a queue. The attractions (the ruins of ancient Carthage and the beautifully preserved old city of Sidi Bou Said) might not be quite on the world-class, 7 wonders of the world, par of Egypt, but I've enjoyed the experience of seeing them so much more, that I do very much want to some day return to Tunisia to see the rest of the place. Egypt, on the other hand, the Yin of Africa, remains as a definite 'maybe... if I run out of other places to see.' And if you'd like a haute-couture all-inclusive beach resort vacation? Well, Tunisia has plenty of those on the Mediterranean coast as well.
Mohamed, Nes, Ossuama, and myself at the amphitheater at the ruins of ancient Carthage. Mohamed not quite timing the wait time on his camera correctly...
More ruins of Carthage, and Mediterranean in the background. Nes striking a pose in the foreground
Sidi Abu Said, where there is a law that all the houses must be blue and the decorations must all be in this very shade of blue. The result is gorgeous!
Panoramic view from the top of the hill at Side Abu Said
Central Tunis in the distance
The Clock Tower in Central Tunis as dusk gathers
Mohamed's in art school, takes some great pictures, and can do some fun things with Photoshop
Sunrises really are a lot more spectacular than sunsets. You go from pitch black darkness to gentle dawn and then, all of a sudden, the golden-red orb of our neighborhood star pops up over the horizon! Then again, maybe I just don't get to see nearly as many sunrises as I do sunsets, so they only se... Read MoreSunrises really are a lot more spectacular than sunsets. You go from pitch black darkness to gentle dawn and then, all of a sudden, the golden-red orb of our neighborhood star pops up over the horizon! Then again, maybe I just don't get to see nearly as many sunrises as I do sunsets, so they only seem more spectacular? Sunrises do have a tendency of happening insanely early after all...
I had plenty of time to contemplate all this while standing on the road passing by the settlement of Ein Gedi in Israel at 4 o'clock in the morning
It was dark still. 4 in the morning is too early for the Sun too
Irina and I were standing here at this unfathomable hour of the morning (night?) because for sunrise, we wanted to get to the top of Masada, a famous nearby mountain peak. And an Israeli stronghold against the Romans two thousand years earlier - we'll get to the history lesson in a moment. In the mean time, Masada is best accessed from the hostel that sits at the base of the mountain. Unfortunately that hostel was full. So was the hostel in Ein Gedi. We were instead sleeping at the Ein Gedi Kibbutz, quite grateful for the generosity of a couple guys we had found through couchsurfing. Having free accommodation at the kibbutz was very awesome, unfortunately it wasn't doing us much good in terms of getting to Masada in time for sunrise - our hosts recommended getting up early and hitch hiking - the Israelis are quite practical like that. So, here we were at 4 in the morning, on the highway outside of Kibbutz Ein Gedi. We spent an hour here. Perhaps ten cars passed us - none of them stopped. We muttered bad things about the drivers. I don't quite remember what else I was thinking or feeling during the time, but mostly I was unhappy about not being in bed. I vaguely remember Irina being not entirely pleased with me either, but the details escape me... Did I mention my distaste for waking up at 4 in the morning? I also don't like the uncertainty of hitch hiking, especially when after an hour noone stops, and you end up giving up and going back to bed. Actually, that's not true - going back to bed felt wonderful! I could see the first signs of dawn lighting up the Eastern sky on our walk back to the kibbutz...
The morning rolled around. We had gotten an additional five hours asleep since our middle of the night escapades and, feeling rather refreshed, were determined to conquer the stubborn mountain the next morning! Over the course of the day, the one and only taxi driver in Ein Gedi was located and his monopoly-inflated prices to take us to Masada the next morning were agreed to (Ein Gedi is not a big place). Then we met Katya and Sam and convinced them that they needed to see a Masada sunrise too, and thus the monopoly-inflated taxi costs came to be split four ways. And off we went the next morning - I can't remember what time we got up, but while it was certainly still before sunrise, it felt a lot less horrible than the night before... or maybe we were just developing a tolerance for the pre-dawn insanity?
Catching the sun rise over the Dead Sea from the top of Masada, that's what it's all about!
Celebrating our triumph at the top
As for the history lesson... Masada (meaning 'stronghold' in Hebrew) is a sheer-sided plateau rising high above the Dead Sea. It was once a palatial retreat of Herod the Great, who, I presume, was a Roman governor appointed to rule the lands of Israel. Things aren't meant to last though, so Herod died, the Jews revolted against the Romans, and a group, called the Zealots, established Masada as their base. We'd probably call a bunch of zealots holed up in a mountain-top stronghold terrorists today, but I digress... The Romans, in short order, came back and laid siege to the fortress. The zealots all committed suicide instead of being captured. This image lives rather vividly in the hearts of the Israeli Defense Forces today, who take their oaths at Masada.
In modern terms, Masada is a big rock rising up above the Dead Sea, with 750 steps leading to the top. At the top, there's extensive ruins and excavations of the historic site, and spectacular views of the Dead Sea, surrounding mountains, and the sun rising over all of them, if you climbed the 750 stairs early enough. Which we did, because we are a determined bunch!
The Roman ruins at Masada
Surrounding sheer cliffs
A couple of days passed. We left Israel and made our way over to Dahab, on Egypt's Sinai peninsula. Not having seen any pre-dawn hours of the night for a whole three straight days, I felt the need to follow in Moses' footsteps and watch the sun rise from the top of Mt. Sinai, which is conveniently located on the Sinai peninsula... Picking up a few new commandments may have been a nice bonus, but wasn't a must-have. Irina had wizened up and upon learning that the way to the top of Mt. Sinai involved 3,750 steps - an even 3,000 more than Masada - chose to stay by the beach in Dahab. I joined the tourist horde and headed for Sinai.
The sunrise was mildly disappointing, which would be a theme for Egypt - some amazing sites, yet the experience as a whole? Mildly underwhelming and disappointing. Now Masada is a big place at the top - we actually lost Sam for a while. But there's not a lot of people there - it looked like maybe a dozen people were doing the sunrise climb, and a couple of Birth-right tour buses showed up from the other side (the weak and lazy among us can take the easy road on the far side of Masada, which goes just about to the top of the mountain. Not that we were making judgments about our collective superiority...). That's Israel. Not so here - Sinai is in Egypt, and the Egyptians are very enterprising about putting together rushed, overcharged, and not-very-well organized tours for their attractions, so while there's a lot less space at the top of Mt. Sinai, there is a hell of a lot more people up there - easily over a thousand in time for sunrise. On top of that, we left Dahab at 11 the night before, which got us to the base of the mountain a little before 2, and to the top some two hours later. Which, much as I had pointed out back in Dahab, is not when the sun rises.
It was a clear night with a full moon, so no trouble following the windy path to the top. Avoiding the persistent camel peddlers along the way - much harder!
So, we waited at the top. More people arrived. A lot more. Egyptians came by offering to rent rather disgusting-looking blankets because, you know, it gets a little chilly at the top of a 7,500+ foot mountain, at four in the morning, when you aren't moving about for an hour and a half. I tried to sleep; it was a fruitless effort - the thousand people kept popping into existence all around me. We were one of the first groups to reach the top and picked out a nice vantage point to watch the sun come up. Over the hours to follow our vantage point was packed with a litany of new tourist groups, chattering away in German, French, Russian, and most other languages of the UN (except Hebrew, of course - relations are still a little tense with Israel). Finally, around 5:30 the sun showed up. Actually, there was some debate about this - most thought it was just the Moon. Judging by time and compass direction, I was fairly certain it was the Sun (especially as it kept rising), but, admittedly, the spectacle was awfully subdued - there was a lot of haze in the air, so there was none of the bright brilliant reddish-golden radiance, just a pale yellow orb slowly and quietly making its way up into the sky. Producing precious little light or heat at the time.
Yup, that's the rising sun!
The mountains of the Sinai peninsula all around are a pretty amazing site though!
I was excited to be up here, haze or no haze!
Mt. Sinai, of course, has a ton of Christian tradition, so there's a chapel up at the top. The stairway leading up to the top, the '3,000 Steps of Repentance' was built by a monk over a thousand years ago
And on the way back down... the crowds, oh the crowds!
We took the Steps of Repentance on the way down, which wound through a spectacular canyon with the sun, higher and brighter by now, lighting up mountains on either side of us. At the bottom of the canyon we could see St. Katherine's monastery, the oldest continuously operating monastery in the world. A brief visit to the monastery was also a part of the tour - it too was rather disappointing.
But at least it is an awesome site on the way down through the canyon!
A three hours ride in our very uncomfortable minivan later, I was back in Dahab. I probably should have gone to bed, but instead I went wakeboarding - I have my priorities
And it was the right choice anyway! I heart the wake the Malibu puts up...
In between climbing mountains in pre-dawn hours of the night, we spent a lot of time lounging on the beach - yes, I know, it's a hard life. First was the Dead Sea, which was simply spectacular - the concentration of salt and other minerals is amazingly high, so nothing lives in the water, it stings horribly if you ever get it into your eyes or mouth, but, you don't sink! You lie down and just kind of gently float on top of the water - it's the coolest feeling, I've never felt anything remotely like it! Jesus supposedly walked on water in the Sea of Galilee, up in the North of Israel - good thing because it would have seemed so much less miraculous to do so down here!
The Dead Sea! That's Jordan on the far bank
Just lounging about
Yup, you don't sink! Don't take your flip flops off either - you'll definitely know about any cuts you had, even if you didn't know you had them before. Getting a fresh cut on the rocks below would bring horrible pain!
Or you can take a little nap in the water - just put your sunscreen on!
The water is actually incredibly good for your skin - note the high content of salt and other minerals by the shore. Unfortunately, the Dead Sea is gradually disappearing as Israel and Jordan have diverted a lot (too much?) of the waters feeding it, so come see it now while it's still here!
We also spent a day on the beach in Eilat, on the Red Sea, which I found fairly underwhelming, but Irina explained about the minimum number of days a modern human being has to spend in the sun on the beach every year in order to maintain their sanity and health, and headed off for the beach. I did not entirely see her point and went off to run some errands, which felt useful and productive, and, in the end, were largely a complete waste of my time - I suppose her theories must be correct!
My final tally: - Masada: awesome, just hard to get to in the morning due to lack of transport options - Dead Sea: amazing, go see it before it disappears! - Eilat: nice, but if you've come all the way down here for the beaches, just go to Egypt, where the beaches are better and the prices are lower - Dahab: perfect! Easily my favorite place in Egypt - Mt. Sinai and St. Katherine's Monastery: I guess if you are here, you ought to go see them (historical significance and all), and the sunrises are usually more spectacular than what I got, but I was underwhelmed.
I got up early in the morning, headed downstairs to reception and handed over a laundry bag. - Could you get this washed for me, please? - No problem, sir. It'll be ready this evening or tomorrow morning.I expressed my preference for 'this evening' and went off diving. Diving was nice, we saw dolphi... Read MoreI got up early in the morning, headed downstairs to reception and handed over a laundry bag. - Could you get this washed for me, please? - No problem, sir. It'll be ready this evening or tomorrow morning. I expressed my preference for 'this evening' and went off diving. Diving was nice, we saw dolphins
I'd never seen a dolphin diving before
Some beautiful corals too
I returned to the hotel. I inquired about the state of my laundry. Frenetic usage of cell phones ensued. 'You are in room 105?' 'No...' 'You left the laundry in your room?' 'No...' More frenetic conversation in Arabic. - [smiling broadly] Fifteen minutes, sir! I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen in fifteen minutes, and pointed out that it seemed like he had no idea where my clothes actually were? - [more smiling] No problem, sir, fifteen minutes! No problem. I went off to find dinner.
[an hour passes] - [smiling broadly] Have you found my laundry? - No problem, sir [more frenetic cell phone conversation] waiting... - Yes, yes, in your room or down here? - Doesn't matter
I give it another hour while sitting on the front deck, reading my book and chatting with Ali, my local 'fixer.' I finish, and, as a sign of good faith, head directly upstairs, instead of stopping by reception - the laundry might actually be there now, right? Of course not, back to reception. Another frenetic phone call. Why doesn't the laundry room (upstairs in the same building) have a land-line? - Ok, ready - they'll bring it to your room. - Ok It's not like I actually have big plans for the night here in Hurghada, so I don't particularly need the laundry returned now, but I don't necessarily want to keep dealing with this. 15 minutes passes while I examine that thought, and a broadly-smiling 17-year old materializes outside my door with the familiar laundry bag. The price is 10 pounds (which is very good value, admittedly), I hand him over a 50 note and he runs off to get change. I check the laundry - sigh...
The smiling 17-year old returns with my change. I point out that the clothes aren't actually dry. He takes the bag, smiles some more, and promises to come back. I go back to lying on my bed, studying the universe, wondering what he's actually going to do...
Fifteen minutes later, I get another knock on the door - he's now smiling even more broadly and making vast, sweeping ironing motions with his free hand. I thank him, take the bag, and send him away. Five minutes later, as I'm hanging up my clothes (which are every bit as damp as they were fifteen minutes ago) all over my room, I conclude that the kid must have a learning disability.
This is Hurghada (I eventually decided to stay instead of taking the 14 hour bus ride to Sinai), I rather like Hurghada actually - it is only a slightly over-built under-planned resort, not a hideous neon-glazing monstrosity like Sharm el-Sheikh
The customer service, and the command of the English language, leave something to be desired though. That's not really unique to Hurghada though.
The waterfront on a nice calm day
Life Aquatic
There's a lot of little rays in the waters too
Swimmin' with the fishes
Ok, I can't resist - one more little nugget of fun in a Egyptian hotel... So, I returned to the room in the evening. I flipped on the light switch. Nothing happened. Odd - I could have sworn I had lights in here the other night? I turned on the light in the bathroom, examined the room, didn't see a light fixture. Very odd? I resumed introspection, and the waiting for the laundry. Five minutes later it hit me - that's right, I actually removed the light bulb myself the night before, prior to going to bed! Why? Well, rewinding some 22 hours...
I had just returned from the bus station, having decided that a 14 hour bus ride to Dahab would be stupid, so instead I was going to stay here in Hurghada and just dive this side of the Red Sea. The Thistlegorm wreck, the most famous dive site on the Red Sea, closer to the other side of the channel, would have to wait for another time. I brushed my teeth and turned the lights off, noting that they are using these high-tech, lower-power-consumption twisty light bulbs (pretty cool). So, I got in bed - something flashed. A few seconds later, something flashed again. What the? I studied the room for a moment - it flashed again. Weird... Pretty soon I divined that apparently, after you turn the power off, the high-tech, lower-power-consumption twisty light bulb continues to flash every few seconds here. I thought about static charges, capacitors, and college... then unscrewed the light bulb and went to sleep.
Lara Croft hunts for her mysterious treasure at the Angkor Wat Temple complex near Siem Reap, Cambodia. I followed in 2008. It was spectacular. Go back a little further in Hollywood tomb raider history and Harrison Ford, as Indiana Jones, goes to find the Holy Grail in the 'Canyon of the Crescent Mo... Read MoreLara Croft hunts for her mysterious treasure at the Angkor Wat Temple complex near Siem Reap, Cambodia. I followed in 2008. It was spectacular. Go back a little further in Hollywood tomb raider history and Harrison Ford, as Indiana Jones, goes to find the Holy Grail in the 'Canyon of the Crescent Moon,' or as the 2,000 year-old city carved out of rock is more commonly known, Petra. Which is in Jordan, just a skip and a hop, and a two hour taxi ride from the border with Israel. So, being in Tel Aviv a few days ahead of Yael's wedding, Bailey and I headed South to follow in Indiana Jones' famous foot steps. Yes, and the Crusaders, and Saladin, and the Romans too, but 'Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade' was only some 20 years ago, and it's a right now sort of world we live in!
Side note: this actually happened almost a month ago now. If you are wondering why my recent posts have involved the rather disparate locations of Jerusalem, Petra, and the Pyramids of Giza, it's because, well, I'm almost a month behind on any real blogging. Catching up...
So, Petra!
The first glimpse of the Treasury as we are making our way through the Siq, which is also known as a long canyon carved via erosion through the rocks over thousands of years. I prefer Siq.
And here's the Treasury itself, the premier of Petra's sites (and the supposed one-time home of the Holy Grail)
The site is not-so-enthusiastically guarded by the local police forces
But if they slip up, the camels' got their backs!
Getting to Petra was a bit of an adventure as we had to negotiate a taxi fare immediately after crossing the border from Israel. And taxi fares aren't cheap when you have to drive for two hours, and there's no competition, so the negotiations may have been a bit contentious. Most visitors to Petra choose to skip right over the negotiations process and arrive here onboard a gigantic tour bus. We met plenty of them going into Petra in the morning - by the afternoon, they were all gone, heading back to Eilat, Jerusalem, Sharm el-Sheikh, or wherever it is the bus had brought them from. Which meant that the Treasury, above, was just about all that they got to see in Petra. Which is a shame really, as there's a lot more to it - us, having independently negotiated the taxi fare, and thus having a full days to explore the place, Bailey and I set off to climb all the little goat paths up the hills and see every last monument in the place!
Climbing along the wall
And more climbing...
Eventually we got to a lookout point high above the Treasury, presenting a spectacular view of the ancient monument
The giant Urn Tomb. Pretty much all the monuments here are actually tombs (much like the Pyramids in Egypt...) - the people's homes were more like modest and portable tents, so not much has survived
And this tomb looks a good bit like an angry face
Bailey in front of more tombs
And then the dust came...
So Day 1 ended somewhat anti-climactically, with Petra covered in a cloud of dust. I thought it actually made for some interesting pictures, but you couldn't see the monuments from more than a couple hundred meters away. Besides, we were exhausted anyway, having started hiking and climbing before nine that morning. But we did get to see most of the place, and left feeling much superior to the tour bus groups. They paid more anyway!
The second day came about, and with fresh[er] legs and distinct hopes of not getting swallowed up by any more dust clouds (our man, Mahmoud, at our hotel promised it was an uncommon occurrence), we headed back out. Having actually seen most of Petra the first day, we took a taxi to nearby Little Petra - it's sort of like the real thing, but little. And free to enter...
We found a temple. Seen here getting ready to scale the ledge to get to it.
Somewhere deeper into Little Petra, we met our would-be guide, who was ready to show us the path (spectacularly scenic path) that led to Petra proper. After some negotiation, we arrived at a price for his services that we felt wasn't entirely outrageous. So, off we went, past goats, cliffs, inspiring peaks and canyons, and often following paths that were best suited for a goat. The trek took about three hours, and the guide was worth every penny as it turned out, as we would've never found the way on our own.
I have a new-found appreciation for the goats' ability to navigate tiny little mountain paths.
Guide earning his pay by showing us the way along goat paths, often like this one. Sometimes smaller and windier...
And at the end lay our reward, the Monastery!
With the dust cloud moving in, and leg muscles complaining, the Monastery was the only major part of Petra that we had missed the day before, so the goat path entering Petra out by the fabled Monastery was an effective selling point in our prospective guide's sales pitch. Also effective, the fact that Bailey and I had only purchased single day tickets the day before, and had managed to avoid the sporadic patrols along the goat path, thus sneaking in for free on the second day.
And on that triumphant note, it was time to hop into a taxi and race back to the border in order to make it to Tel Aviv the next day in time for Yael's wedding. Made it - no problem!
Egypt, for all its ancient and mesmerizing beauty can at times be incredibly frustrating. 150 years of tourism has turned the place into a carnival of package tours, and rampant corruption has turned it into a place of tour agencies, collecting fat commissions. At the moment, I'm in Hurghada, on the... Read MoreEgypt, for all its ancient and mesmerizing beauty can at times be incredibly frustrating. 150 years of tourism has turned the place into a carnival of package tours, and rampant corruption has turned it into a place of tour agencies, collecting fat commissions. At the moment, I'm in Hurghada, on the West Coast of the Red Sea. I would like to go to Sinai, on the East Coast of the Red Sea. This much I know. Here's what I don't know: - there's a ferry that runs to Sharm el-Sheikh. But I've been told by my hotel that it's not running right now. It is, however, not possible to confirm this, as the ferry operator does not have a website I could locate, and the travel agencies around town have no idea. The agencies which [supposedly] sells tickets for the ferry remains closed. Maybe that's a sign?
- IF there's no ferry, I will take the long bus ride around the Red Sea. But the bus station is on the other end of town, and nobody in town knows the bus schedules (and if they told me that they did, I wouldn't believe them anyway). My guidebook has schedules, but it's five years old, and the schedules seem to change daily, so I don't choose to put too much stock into it. I suppose I'll have to give in and take a taxi to the bus station... there's no public transport in Hurghada, obviously - everyone arrives on a package tour!
So, I'm frustrated... But the azure waters of the Red Sea are beautiful, and I do look forward to getting under those waters to go diving. And it's not as stiflingly hot here as it was inland in Luxor and Aswan!
Jerusalem... The Holy LandJerusalem... I've seen lots of places over the past two years, but none of them approach Jerusalem. It's hectic, yet downright transcendent; it's ancient, yet at the forefront of modern-day's politics; the people here look like they still live in the 17th century, yet each ... Read More
Jerusalem... The Holy Land
Jerusalem... I've seen lots of places over the past two years, but none of them approach Jerusalem. It's hectic, yet downright transcendent; it's ancient, yet at the forefront of modern-day's politics; the people here look like they still live in the 17th century, yet each has a satellite dish on the roof. It's a city of contrasts, yet harmony, which manages to highlight both the multitude of differences and the even more numerous similarities among the people living here.
So, some of the more amazing places about Terre Sancta:
The History Sure, lots of places have all kinds of historical significance - be it Rome, China, Egypt, or India, but none of them can compete with degree of difficulty, and significance that this piece of land, lying at the meeting point of Africa, Asia, and Europe holds. Three of the world's major religions consider it holy, and hardly an empire has existed over the past three millenia that didn't impact Jerusalem - even the far flung Chinese were connected via a terminus on the Great Silk Road. So, a few of the historical highlights:
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is only the holiest Christian site in the world. This is the spot, where, it is said, Jesus was nailed to the cross, died and rose from the dead. I'm by no means religious, nor am I really all that versed in the Bible, but certain basic bits of Christianity are inescapable in our world today, and standing on roughly the spot where Jesus Christ was nailed to the cross is pretty awesome, no matter what your thoughts on religion are. And if your thoughts are a little more devoted than mine, then you are one of the many who've been making the pilgrimage to this very spot over the past two thousand years, sullenly entering the church, and prostrating yourself on to kiss the holy ground. We witnessed the spectacle continue to this day, and I came away, well, subdued.
The Golden Cupola is the 'Dome of the Rock,' underneath it lies the rock, considered sacred by both the Jewish and Muslim faiths
The two holiest cities in Islam are Mecca and Medina, where the Prophet Mohammed lived and preached. Jerusalem, however, is next line, as it was here that Mohammed had traveled to launch himself heavenward to take his place alongside Allah. He, in fact, launched himself off of the rock, now covered by the gleaming Golden Dome above, which, as it turns out, is actually even more holy in the eyes of Judaism. According to the Jewish faith, the rock was the foundation stone of the world - it was here that God had created the Earth used to form Adam, and it was here that Abraham nearly sacrificed his own son Isaac, as a test of faith. It was also the site where King Solomon had erected the first temple (and after that has been destroyed by the Babylonians, the Second Temple followed... only to be destroyed by the Romans)
The Western, or Wailing Wall on Shabbat evening
And yet, in modern times, the Temple Mount, which houses the Dome of the Rock, is not visited by religious Jews. Instead, the holiest Jewish site is the Western, or Wailing Wall, which is, of course, here in Jerusalem too. It is, in fact, merely a retaining wall for the Temple Mount, above. But following the destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans in AD 70, the precise location of the temple was lost, and upon returning to Jerusalem, the Jews studiously avoided the Temple Mount, lest they unknowingly step on site of the Holy of Holies, the ancient inner sanctum of the temple, barred to all except high priests. Instead, they began praying at the exposed outer wall, which the divine presence had never left, according to rabbinical texts.
Immediately after the 6 day war of 1967, when Israel had recaptured Jerusalem, Moshe Dayan, the Israeli commander, handed over the Temple Mount to the city's Muslim leaders. I assume because it is a holy Muslim site, and a site that pious Jews wish to avoid anyway. These days, the access to the Wailing Wall is open to anyone 24 hours a day - it acts as an open-air synagogue. Access to the Temple Mount, on the other hand, is very restricted - men and women of any faiths can go, but only at very restricted hours and days of the week. Unfortunately, not knowing the specific restrictions, Irina and I missed out on the chance to go up to the Mount... I guess, we'll need to come back to Jerusalem again - next year in Jerusalem? (probably too soon...)
At the Church of Nativity in Bethlehem
Back to Christianity and Jesus Christ. A massive wall separates Jerusalem from the Palestinian West Bank. Just on the other side of this wall lies the town of Bethlehem. Here sits the Church of Nativity - the world's oldest continuously operating church (commissioned in AD 326) is the birthplace of Jesus. The Grotto of the Nativity here has a continuous line of men and women ready to offer their prayers to the very spot were baby Jesus was said to have been born. We snuck in from the exit to catch a glimpse of the place, but I was wary of taking pictures...
The Russian Chapel of the Ascension
Mostly, I included this photo simply because it's a beautiful golden-dome Russian Church. The Russian Orthodox Church does, however, claim, that this is the precise spot where Jesus made his ascent to heaven... Jerusalem is sort of like a capital of Christianity, so various sects, or states have their own churches and hospices in the city. Funny how the Buddhist nations all do the exact same thing in Gaya, India, the spot where Buddha had initially achieved enlightenment.
The People Once you get past the history and arrive in the present day, the most fascinating thing about today's Jerusalem is the widely diverse people that inhabit the place. The Old City is split up into four quarters - Jewish, Arabic, Christian, and Armenian. Yes, I know, the Armenians don't seem to belong, but Armenia was apparently the first nation to adopt Christianity, and they had made a significant alliance with the Crusaders when they had come to reclaim the city in the Middle Ages... In summary, they've got a quarter, but it's small and very quiet, so, unfortunately, I don't even have any good pictures from there... But on to the fascinating, varied, emotional, and opinionated people of Jerusalem:
Jewish man praying at the Western Wall
Muslim trader in the bustling bazaar, which is the Arabic quarter of the Old City
Christian procession carrying the cross, following in Jesus' footsteps along the original fourteen stations of the Cross
Kids playing football, soccer if you like, in the neighborhoods of the Arabic quarter
Jewish boy dressed for the occasion at the Western Wall
Explaining an important point on the street
A Christian nun on the streets of Bethlehem
Muslim women in the Arab quarter
More prayers at the Western Wall
But the most amazing thing of all is that, right now, we all more or less get along. It's hard to say how long this'll last - the Arabs generally feel like they're living in a conquered state, the more liberal Jews just want to find some sort of an amicable long term resolution to the whole thing, and the orthodox Jews just want to pray and study, and they'd like to everyone else to do the same. So, it's a tenuous situation, but for now, we all seem to get along just enough for visitors to come and enjoy the place, and, in turn, be overwhelmed by it:
Like I said - tourists. A break while taking a spectacular walk along Jerusalem's ancient wall
Life goes on in the city - an orthodox wedding not far from the Western Wall. We concluded that the bride was likely Russian (after all 1 in 7 current Israelis are), so not sure how fervent she might be about the orthodox lifestyle?
And keeping the peace, the army... Not at all opposed to having tourists take pictures though...
So, that's a brief take on Jerusalem. It took me a while to get to it, but it was hard to come up with any sort of coherent way to present everything there is to be said about Jerusalem, and, in spite of everything above, there's plenty more to be said. (All historical/Biblican information courtesy of my Lonely Planet - I won't claim to be up to date on any of this stuff, but it sounds about right to me).
That's right, I've finally made it to Africa, continent #7! Oh, and there's some fairly large Pyramids around here too... Heading deeper into the continent, up the Nile into the center of Egypt tonight.... Read More That's right, I've finally made it to Africa, continent #7! Oh, and there's some fairly large Pyramids around here too... Heading deeper into the continent, up the Nile into the center of Egypt tonight.
Missing because the whole time in Israel so far, I've been traveling with friends, which leaves a lot more time to go out for dinner or a glass of juice on the streets of Tel Aviv, but a lot less time for blogging. To be caught up on eventually... TBD when exactly, but a preview of things to come in... Read MoreMissing because the whole time in Israel so far, I've been traveling with friends, which leaves a lot more time to go out for dinner or a glass of juice on the streets of Tel Aviv, but a lot less time for blogging. To be caught up on eventually... TBD when exactly, but a preview of things to come in the mean time:
Bailey and I went to see Petra back before Yael's wedding. The Treasury - the most famous of Petra's 2,000 year old artifacts
Irina and I in the old city of Jaffa, with the sun setting over Tel Aviv
The old city of Jerusalem, with the Dome of the Rock prominently in the middle
Jerusalem's Wailing Wall on Shabbat
Floating in the Dead Sea - it's weird, you really don't sink! Spending a full two days here
The 2,000 year old mountain fortress of Massada features prominently in Israel lore. We climbed in time for sunrise
We landed in Tel Aviv at 4 in the morning. There was very little drama, aside from the man with the giant lips. I went through Israeli customs and immigration; there was a little drama while I stood waiting in line for 30 minutes, after less than 30 minutes of sleep and decided it wasn't my idea of ... Read MoreWe landed in Tel Aviv at 4 in the morning. There was very little drama, aside from the man with the giant lips. I went through Israeli customs and immigration; there was a little drama while I stood waiting in line for 30 minutes, after less than 30 minutes of sleep and decided it wasn't my idea of fun at 4 in the morning. By 5, I was finally outside, looking for my monit sherut - a shuttle van bound for Haifa. Michelle, whom the blogosphere might remember from such previous adventures as Gitika's wedding in India two years ago, warned that sometimes there's drama involved. Approaching sunrise at 5 in the morning, there was no drama. A French couple next to me chatted incessantly, but I insisted on catching up on sleep. Almost an hour later I glimpsed a Toys'R'Us along the side of the road and figured we had to be in Haifa. Another twenty minutes passed, and I was making a dramatic appearance at Michelle's apartment in Haifa, with the following twitter post summing up how I was feeling: Haifa, Israel: on to Haifa - Hi, Michelle! I haven't slept tonight, where's your couch?
Not to say there hasn't been a bit of drama in this region for the past, oh, three thousand years or so, but the drama of my arrival was largely contained to the strikes in Greece.
After a couple hour nap to recover some degree of sanity, we headed off to explore Haifa.
Michelle, pointing out the natural attractions of the city
Me, finding my own ways to enjoy some of the not-so-natural attractions of the city. One of the things I've really found enjoyable about cities in Israel so far though, is that there is a lot of art on the streets - be it just sketches on a wall, or a big metal structure like this one, or something altogether more abstract (a giant abacus?)
The Haifa main municipal building is housed in a gleaming new skyscraper (which the locals seem to think resembles a missile... hmmm, aimed at nearby Lebanon?)
The star attraction of Haifa are the Bahá'à Gardens though. The Bahá'à Faith is a religion, founded in the middle of the 19th century, which emphasizes 'spiritual unity of all humankind.' While that does sound rather abstract and maybe even a little pompous, the faith does have a lot of aspects that I can wholly support - quoth wikipedia:
Unity of God
Unity of Religion
Unity of all humankind
Equality between men and women (!)
Elimination of all forms of prejudice
World Peace
Harmony of Religion and Science (!)
Independent investigation of truth
Universal compulsory education
Universal auxiliary language (?)
Obedience to government and non-involvement in partisan politics
Elimination of extremes of wealth and poverty
So, yeah, I came to Israel, the Holy Land for three of the world's major religions - Judaism, Christianity, and Islam, and so far I've had a chance to learn about the Bahá'à Faith. Not to say it wasn't interesting... The big attraction in Haifa are the Bahá'à Gardens, which house the tomb of the Báb (the man viewed as the forerunner of the Bahá'à Faith), among other important structures. A tour here gives you some of the background about the faith and a chance to walk through the huge garden complex:
The Bahá'à Gardens
I wonder if the soaring eagle represents something to the faith too?
The entirety of the Bahá'à Faith crammed into a lens of my sunglasses?
I had been aiming for three full days of rest, recovery, and relaxation in Haifa, but the Greek financial crisis had other ideas, I arrived a day late, and two days later, I headed down to Tel Aviv to catch up with Bailey and make a three day trek to Petra, just across the border in Jordan. Petra was amazing, and will require a full blown post of its own at some point (hopefully soon), but we'll skip it for now, and stay focused on adventures in Israel, which quickly led to the actual reason I was here in the first place: Yael and Etai's wedding:
Yael and Etai holding their marriage contract, while the rabbi reads the ceremonial texts. The entire ceremony takes a refreshingly quick ten minutes. All marriages in Israel have to be religious, by the way, and inter-faith marriages are best handled someplace across a border...
Action shot of Etai smashing a glass - good luck was ensured!
Sharing a kiss on the dance floor
The ceremony was held at the beautiful and posh 'Q,' in Kibbutz Glil Yam. Apparently Israeli Kibbutzes have expanded beyond collective farming to things like hosting glittering wedding ceremonies. The official part of the ceremony was very quick, and beyond that the reception was absolutely free-flowing - we ate, we danced, we drank, ate some more, danced some more, wondered around the gardens, chatted with the newly-weds for a bit, then danced some more. Israel is generally a lot less into rigid rules and structure than we are in the States, and the wedding (on a Wednesday night) was an apt example of this free-flowing liberty. That being said, it was certainly a big party - the guest list was over 400, and the dancing went on till after 1 in the morning. Which, technically, is a rather early night out in Tel Aviv...
The next couple of days were spent exploring Tel Aviv. It doesn't have any of the history of neighboring Jerusalem (what having been founded just over a hundred years ago and all) - it is, however, a relaxed, yet vibrant city, filled with markets, cafes, night clubs, and people on the far extremes of religious observance. A lot of Israel shuts down on Shabat (Friday sundown to Saturday sundown) - Tel Aviv just slows down and relaxes a bit more. Life in pictures:
On the beach in Tel Aviv. The old city of Jaffa in the background
Like I said, art on the streets. I think Sigmund Freud and I make for a nice couple. Sorry about the bunny ears, Siggy!
Michelle had come down from Haifa for the wedding and to play tour guide for a day around Tel Aviv
Fresh fruit and vegetable market. Tel Aviv is actually a very compact city, so it's easy to walk around and get everywhere you want to go
In Jaffa, the old city, where the twisting stone streets (all named after zodiac signs) host an abundance of art galleries. Or sometimes just a hanging tree...
The Frank Meisler Gallery was the most remarkable that we saw, with his variety of sculptures. The Temple of Jerusalem here.
Sunset over the Mediterranean
It's a Jewish state, of course, but there's no shortage of Mosques and Christian Churches in the Holy Land
The people of Tel Aviv tend to be on the liberal and progressive side - this is a demonstration pushing for legalization of marijuana that I stumbled upon when passing through Rabbin Square one afternoon...
Some additional general impressions on Israel... Everybody - men and women - serves in the army. I knew that. And everybody takes public transport to get to and from their army bases (the soldiers often get weekends off). I knew that as well. And while I also knew that the soldiers on their way home do take their guns everywhere with them, it was still a slight shock to see all these 18 and 19 year olds riding the train with their M-16's. Not loaded... The trains and buses do feel quite safe though - not sure I'd want to be a pick-pocket getting caught by a bunch of armed soldiers...
The other thing that kept coming up in conversations is that Israel may very well be a totally different country in another 30 or 40 years. And the threats it faces don't come from the surrounding Arab world (well, there's plenty of those too, but we're not talking about them now). There is drama here after all - internally, Israeli Jews conform to a wide array of religious practices. Currently, the majority is secular, and religion plays about the same role in their lives as it does for most secular people in the world. However, that's not everyone in Israel - exactly the same as Islam has its extremist factions, and modern Christianity produces lots of devout fundamentalists, Judaism has its fair share of Orthodox Jews of various sects. The people that I had only pictured as cartoons on the the streets of Brooklyn at the turn of the 20th century are alive and well here in Israel. Generally, I'm all for a 'to each his own' approach, but that tolerance runs into some brick walls when the Orthodox sects practice a lot of the similar social practices that I find downright appalling in the extremes of the Arab world - segregation and extreme inequality between men and women, lack of formal education beyond religious studies (and even the religious studies tend to focus on rote memorization rather than interpretation), and closed-minded, ignorant, and rather militant mistrust of the outside world, especially the non-Jewish world. And where all this becomes a problem for the state of Israel is, quite frankly, sex - much like the fundamental principles of the other major religions, Jewish Orthodoxy preaches that sex is to be used for pro-creation only, which makes birth control irrelevant. Nature, however, has other ideas, and human beings tend to be hormonally induced to be drawn towards sex, even the fundamentalist and orthodox human beings, and the result is that the Orthodox population is growing exponentially in Israel, which will make them a majority in the country within another generation (which will turn Israel into a Jewish version of Saudi Arabia?), and, at the current state of affairs, will bankrupt the state, as anyone pursuing an Orthodox religious education in Israel is eligible to be entirely supported by the state while they study (until age 40 generally), and are also exempt from military service. So, that's all a little scary... The place is filled with lots of really smart and ingenuitive people, so I hope they figure out a way for everyone to get along, without becoming a fundamentalist religious state!
And on a brighter note, in a couple of hours, I'm heading off to the airport to pick up Irina (from such previous adventures as Colombia) and we'll be spending the next two weeks exploring Israel and Egypt together. So, hopefully, the next mentions of the Orthodox sects here in Israel will be confined to photographs of people the two of us will be encountering in Jerusalem!
Really, how can a man support such an enormous set of lips? Wouldn't you have to have extra strong neck muscles, or something to support such things? The man with the lips and I got off to a bad start immediately - I had my window seat on the plane to Athens, and was looking forward to having an ent... Read MoreReally, how can a man support such an enormous set of lips? Wouldn't you have to have extra strong neck muscles, or something to support such things? The man with the lips and I got off to a bad start immediately - I had my window seat on the plane to Athens, and was looking forward to having an entire half row to myself for the 35 minute flight. But then, the last two to come on board were the man with the giant lips and his ugly lady friend. No, I mean, really, she wasn't very attractive. They took the two aisle seats in row 4, I took note of the over-sized lips and went back to trying to fall asleep. But sleep wasn't meant to be - the man of the giant lips and his lady friend had a lot to say to each other, across the aisle. And they proceeded to say it, loudly. And they laughed, boy did they ever laugh! I would call the laugh infectious, but not in the sense that I wanted to join in, more that I thought he was infected with some sort of a terrible affliction that caused this. And then a phone rang (five minutes after taken off). And kept ringing for a minute - eventually the lip man tore himself away from the laughter and conversation and picked up his phone. Stared at it, seemingly in no way surprised, (or sorry to be receiving a call in flight), ignored the call, put the phone back in his pocket (still turned on - the next call might be important, you never know), and turned back to his ugly lady friend.
I decided I'd make him famous through my powers of the blogosphere in retaliation, so here's to you, loud annoying man with the giant lips (and an AWFUL lot to say with those lips!)
Michelle's rendition of the suspect based purely on my descriptions
PS. On the bright side, my flight, delayed from the day before by the general strike in Greece, was otherwise uneventful, and I arrived in Tel Aviv, Israel a few hours later. Sadly lacking in sleep...
It finally started to rain around shortly after noon. It had been dark and gloomy ever since the morning, which seemed to fit my mood; I tried to busy myself going off to find a place to exchange my left over Albanian Lek and Serbian Dinars. I got 7.40 Euro for my efforts - the night before I spent ... Read MoreIt finally started to rain around shortly after noon. It had been dark and gloomy ever since the morning, which seemed to fit my mood; I tried to busy myself going off to find a place to exchange my left over Albanian Lek and Serbian Dinars. I got 7.40 Euro for my efforts - the night before I spent 35 Euro for my taxi back from the airport and a second night at my hostel here in Thessaloniki. Net loss. And why was I back at my hostel in Thessaloniki (instead of on a beach in Haifa)? Well, because the airport is closed - the whole country is on strike. I posted this on twitter two days ago, while somewhere in the middle of Serbia, upon learning that the Greek trains were on strike: Q: How would Greek financial crisis affect the trip? A: Trains on strike, getting from Macedonian border to Thessaloniki TBD at the moment!
So, I was wrong. The trains weren't a problem, it was the airport that got me.
This brings up an interesting question - what's worse, spontaneous riots on the streets of Kathmandu over raised fuel prices in the impoverished country of Nepal, or well organized strikes and demonstrations in Greece? Sure, sure Nepal still loses - they were throwing bricks at us, but at least the Kathmandu airport (guarded by UN peacekeepers) remained open throughout. Here, nobody wanted to bother me, but the airport was participating in the strike, and, voila, I was stuck. And getting stuck upset me far more. (Or is that the Kathmandu was over two years ago, and I've just moved on? Hmmm...) After all Tommy went off into the riotous crowds back in Kathmandu to get some pictures and [to our astonishment] returned unharmed, describing the rioters as rather friendly...
I was supposed to be in Israel by now, having left Thessaloniki on a flight to Tel Aviv at 11:30PM last night. It was by the time that my last pre-strike bus of the evening got me to the airport that I began to realize that there may be a problem - the terminal seemed deserted; I found a display, and, of course, all the flights are canceled today... The tower workers were taking part in the nation-wide strike! Til midnight. My flight's at 11:30, think they just pushed it back by 31 minutes? Nope, I'm now ticketed to go on the same flight 24 hours later (calling the airline for a strike update before leaving for the airport tonight).
And what exactly might we be striking about, you may be wondering? Well, it's probably been in the news back home - the Greek government has this tiny, little insignificant financial ... catastrophe. They've got some loan payments due, don't have any money to pay them, and nobody will lend them more money because, well, you apparently can't ask a sovereign state for their first-born as collateral. So the rest of the Euro-zone countries, along with the IMF, are providing a 110 billion Euro loan package (at 5 percent). It's not real popular back in Germany, France, etc. either, but it's apparently even less popular here. Because, believe it or not, those other EU countries and the IMF have insisted on some guarantees that Greece will be able to cut its national deficit over the next few years and, you know, repay the 110 billion Euros via some 'austerity measures.' And now we're protesting... and striking... and my flight is canceled because the airport is closed, and unlike the train service, they wouldn't just provide a bus to Tel Aviv instead. And I totally saw amphibious tourist buses in Budapest...
The demonstrators marching through the center of Thessaloniki
Contrasting them to the rioters in Kathmandu - the Nepalese have really got the riot thing down better
I met up with Jimi here in Thessaloniki - Jimi, the Greek mini enthusiast, who spent half a day working on mine back during the rally after we run into him in the middle of Serres, and is far more responsible for the mini getting anywhere near Mongolia than any of the other [many] mechanics along the way
The waterfront in Thessaloniki - before I got pissed off about being stuck here, I went for a little sight-seeing
it's just called 'The White Tower'
And this is the Rotunda of St. George. Sits just outside of my hostel
Jesus keeps suffering inside the Rotunda
And yet roses bloom outside of it, ignorant of his suffering...
Well, back to the strike - is it all just a scam by the Greek government to help stimulate the economy? After all, school's out today (teachers on strike) and all the kids are hanging out at the street side cafes all day long, playing cards and backgammon and drinking coffee... The adults seem to be enjoying a day of shopping as well. On the other hand, the post office down the street from me had all of its windows smashed, and this in relatively calm Thessaloniki - three people were being reported dead in Athens... It's a good thing Californians only riot over police brutality (or Lakers championships), not when Schwarzenegger cuts a bunch of their state benefits to try and balance that state's budget...
Berlin... Belgrade... Budapest... BucharestBelieve it or not, I liked geography back when I was growing up too. And since I was growing up in the Soviet Union, a lot of the geography I paid attention to dealt with the countries of Eastern Europe. And a lot of them had capitals that started with 'B' ... Read MoreBerlin... Belgrade... Budapest... Bucharest
Believe it or not, I liked geography back when I was growing up too. And since I was growing up in the Soviet Union, a lot of the geography I paid attention to dealt with the countries of Eastern Europe. And a lot of them had capitals that started with 'B' (and then when I was six, a huge shopping center named 'Budapest' opened right across the street from our house in Moscow, really captivating my attention and imagination). So, why not see all these 'B' capitals!? I got to Berlin just before the Mongol Rally in 2008; a certain Moldova-sponsored detour, brought me to Bucharest in July. That detour continued on to Budapest, but all I saw was the ring road that took me right around the city, so this time I was back!
And I got inside the ring road:
I also didn't have a car to worry about anymore
In fact, I got to spend an entire weekend wondering around Buda and Pest and taking in the sites of the city, which has begun to once again attract hordes of tourists, since its re-liberation in 1990. Before we get the photo gallery, a few general thoughts on the place... Now, just because I'm grouping Berlin, Budapest, Belgrade, and Bucharest together doesn't actually make them at all similar. Berlin is, of course, a beast entirely of its own, a German city of never-ending night life extraordinaire. Budapest, a former part of the Austro-Hungarian empire stands out, not so surprisingly, for being far and away the closest to Western Europe (its location is the most Western-most too). The architecture is more reminiscent of my brief visit to Vienna than anything else, the city (and the entire country) is predominantly Roman Catholic, unlike its more Russian/Greek Orthodox dominated sister cities to the East. That being said, Budapest also has that unmistakable look of a big city in a formerly Communist country - it's mostly just a feel for me, but I tried to categorize the visual clues that gave me that distinct impression. In the words of Jeff Foxworthy:
Your city might be a former Eastern bloc capital if: - your public spaces are relatively unkempt. The pavement on the sidewalks and roads is torn and cracked, and there's graffiti on the houses - your downtown buildings are all older. Even if reasonably well maintained, there's hardly any new construction sprinkled in. - once you get out of the center of the city just a little, your city is noticeably green and verdant. Wild green, nothing like the manicured Central Park in New York or London's Hyde Park - the insides of your buildings (say, my hostel) are characterized by big, wide, empty, and usually unlit stairwells, and no elevators. Bonus points for trash and smells of urine in abundance, but those were thankfully not present in my hostel - smell of urine in your alleys? Definitely a plus! - shady looking men looking to sell some sort of unspecified (but shady) goods and services outside the train station, an even bigger plus! These guys, by the way, seem to have been generally replaced by the Nigerians in a lot of the Western cities these days, including Tokyo, Paris, and, surprisingly enough, Thessaloniki, Greece, where I am at the moment
So, while Budapest is certainly very closely tied to Western Europe - culturally perhaps more so than to Eastern Europe, 40 plus years of Soviet domination have left some indelible signs of being a communist-run city. Alright, enough cultural anthropology, on to my favorite sights on the place:
The House of Parliament sits on the banks of the Danube
Did I mention the Roman Catholics? The St. Stephen's Cathedral in Pest, named for St. Stephen I of Hungary (c. 975-1038) - his mummified hand resides in a chapel inside. It's apparently traveled extensively around Europe, but has been returned to Budapest after WWII.
The inside of the Basilica - the Catholics sure do know how to decorate. Decorations a bit less blood thirsty than the ones in South America though...
A trip to the observation deck up on the roof gives an expansive view of the surrounding city
Across the river, in Buda, sits the grand, yet slender Mathias Church. Uniquely beautiful inside too, I've been told, but sadly I showed up an hour too late to go in!
Back in Pest, this is the Budapest Great Synagogue - second largest in the world according to my hostel, somewhere in the top five according to wikipedia. Either way, an amazing sight, and remarkable for having survived both Hitler and Stalin...
Ah, those crafty Jews with their funny synagogue signs...
"The Shoes on the Danube Promenade" is more somber - a memorial to Jews who were executed on this spot by the Nazis during WWII. The Germans had the foresight to make their prisoners take their shoes off prior to shooting them...
After a weekend here, I felt like I had Budapest well covered, along with prior visits to Berlin and Bucharest, so all that was left now was Belgrade, the capital of Serbia. Serbia has some other distinctions as well - Belgrade is directly on the way to Thessaloniki, where I was headed to visit friends and catch my flight to Tel Aviv, and Serbia is the only one of the seven former Yugoslav republics we didn't make it too during the rally in 2008 (Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Montenegro, Kosovo, and Macedonia being the others. Granted the coastal road in Croatia passes through Bosnia for all of about 10 minutes, but that's ten more minutes than I had ever spent in Serbia). So, in short order, I boarded my Belgrade-bound train in Budapest Monday morning... and 8 hours later I had arrived in Belgrade (the journey really wasn't interesting, so I won't dwell on it).
Belgrade isn't a whole lot like Budapest. Serbia isn't in the EU; it doesn't draw anywhere near the numbers of tourists (I heard almost exclusively Serbian on the street, which is a LOT more similar to Russian than Hungarian is, by the way), and in a clear sign that reminded me of Russia and Ukraine, most women, these days, choose to dress like they are in some way employed by the adult industry (no complaints!). I also got to spend all of one evening in Belgrade, so my sight-seeing opportunities were a bit more limited, but here's the best sites of the place from the time I had:
The St. Marco Church - me thinks we are a lot more Greek Orthodox around here...
The Belgrade Fortress as darkness gathers. This is a city park, by the way, which was filled with locals just hanging out, strolling around, and generally enjoying this warm Monday evening
A relic from the Balkans war from the 90's. I don't know what used to be in this building that caused NATO to bomb it, nor why they're refusing to fix it, but it's a pretty poignant reminder
Hostel reviews along the way: Budapest, Belgrade, Thessaloniki: - Carpe Nochem, Budapest: Cleanliness #3, Fun #1. It wasn't dirty, but it was in that older building, with the unlit stairwell in Budapest, and was always full. It wasn't full at 9 at night, every night though, as around 8:30, the whole hostel was out for a pub crawl along the local pubs, bars, and clubs, every night. Returning some time around 4 to 6 in the morning... - Manga Hostel, Belgrade: Cleanliness #2, Fun #2. Not quite full, but close to it, close enough for their to be enough other travelers to hang out and watch a movie with at night. Quite clean though, and has an attractive little garden outside. Hard to compete with 'pub crawl till 4-6 in the morning every night' though - RentRooms, Thessaloniki: Cleanliness #1, Fun #3. Spotless, and empty. The place is clearly quite new, and pristinely scrubbed - in a fun area of town too (University district) and also features a nice garden/backyard, but backpackers in Greece all flock to Athens and the islands, so the only ones here are just stuck making a connection (which is really what I'm here for as well), so there's hardly anyone here. Limits your fun potential... In fact, when I got stuck here for an extra day last night (damn strike!), I found the two other guys in my room asleep at 10 o'clock at night.
As for where we started this whole post: Berlin: early July 2008 Bucharest: late July 2008, but I wasn't in the mood for any sight-seeing... Budapest: April, 2010 Belgrade: May, 2010
- my feet hurt. Spent all day walking around town yesterday, followed that up with being out till 4 in the morning last night. Today's been a struggle. Looking forward to spending most of tomorrow on a train (to Belgrade). Maybe I should have done the thermal baths after all...- I love Nestea's Peac... Read More- my feet hurt. Spent all day walking around town yesterday, followed that up with being out till 4 in the morning last night. Today's been a struggle. Looking forward to spending most of tomorrow on a train (to Belgrade). Maybe I should have done the thermal baths after all...
- I love Nestea's Peach tea! Loved it last time I was in the area, still loving it now. The peach juices in South America were amazing too, why aren't there more peach-flavored beverages available in the States!?
- the 'Terror House', a museum documenting the Soviet occupation of Hungary, is kind of a chilling experience... Growing up in Soviet Russia, you don't quite get the same story about the Soviet Union's interactions with 'our Eastern European brothers'
- just as my parents had described it, you hear plenty of Russian speech on the streets of Budapest. I'm not used to coming to a city for the first time, that my parents have already been to though - I thought I was the traveling trendsetter in the family
- it looks like I'll get to visit the two biggest synagogues in the world on this trip. The second biggest is here in Budapest. Is the biggest one some place in Israel? Of course not, it's in New York City. But I'll get there in July too... Hmm, turns out wikipedia disagrees with the sources at my hostel: they think the biggest is in Jerusalem
- I do have lots of pictures, they'll be in another post, these are 'thoughts' after all
Hello, blog, have you missed me? I haven't abandoned you, just a prolonged bit of neglect, while being busy not traveling for a month, but let's catch up! This is Tina, rolling down the hill on a powder-ful day at Crystal Mountain at the beginning of April:And here's a Tina still in mid-roll. I prop... Read MoreHello, blog, have you missed me? I haven't abandoned you, just a prolonged bit of neglect, while being busy not traveling for a month, but let's catch up! This is Tina, rolling down the hill on a powder-ful day at Crystal Mountain at the beginning of April:
And here's a Tina still in mid-roll. I proposed she use this one as her Facebook profile photo, but she continues to refuse to create a Facebook account...
A bit more from the day at the mountain
A rare [partly] sunny break in a day otherwise filled with lots of clouds, dumping lots of fresh snow
I returned to Seattle in the middle of March, but thanks to the unpredictable vagaries of the Pacific Northwest weather, did not end up missing the entire ski season. In fact, we had a record snow fall over Thanksgiving right before I left, followed that up with hardly any snow while I was gone, and the skies greeted my arrival back with a couple of unseasonably powdery weekends in late March and early April. Hooray for fresh snow! Only wish there'd been more of it during the winter months for everyone that was here.
What else have I been up to over the past month? Well, I've tried being an adult again and rented an apartment, that seemed a nice change from sleeping on a couch, both for me and the owners of said couch. Spring promptly showed up, bringing with it my personal favorite rite of spring - March Madness. When buying my return ticket back in November, I didn't really give a whole lot of thought to my precise return date, and yet my non-plan happened to work out surprisingly well: not only did March Madness (NCAA basketball tournament) commence on my second day back in the US, but March 17th, my actual return date, turned out to be St. Patrick's Day. I wasn't quite up for an all night affair with a bunch of Irish backpackers like the year before, but I was all for hanging out with friends at a party - thanks, Ann! Three weeks later, the basketball tournament concluded the way it always should - with Duke being crowned National Champions for the fourth time in school history, and everything was right with the world of college basketball once again! The past month in pictures:
Let's Go Duke! I welcome your hatred and envy, the rest of college basketball world!
Spring commencing in bloom in Seattle
Spring is a time for new beginnings - this one for the mini, which is now in the capable hands of Gunnar, who is about to take the whole thing apart, then put it all back together, minus the parts that have rusted through (or been welded together by Mongolian mechanics). Good as new... some nine short months from now!
The new beginning did require a jump start, for which we attempted the Subaru and BMW batteries, but eventually had to call in AAA... My push starting skills just aren't what they used to be back in Mongolia
And in other new beginnings, the boat is back to life! After taking last summer off, wakeboarding is once again in the plans for this summer.
And the other thing I dedicated my time has, of course, been scheming for another trip. I really felt very much ready to just stop at this point actually, and am far less excited to be on the road again right now, than I had been at the start of the last two journeys, but Yael was getting married in Israel, Bailey wanted to go, and I've not yet made it to either the Middle East or Africa, so a plan was eventually hatched together. Helped quite a bit by a frequent flyer miles sponsored ticket to Europe. And while, I can't honestly purport a whole lot of excitement about the unique opportunity to spend more nights in hostels, I am nonetheless pretty excited to see Budapest, Jerusalem, Petra, the pyramids of Egypt, Carthage, Sicily, Pisa, and the Niagara Falls just to name a few of the places I'm aiming to see over the next three months. Plus, there's a lot of friends now in all those places along the way, so maybe I won't have to sleep in hostels quite so much!
And just to get things started, I took a quick trip down to San Diego to see family and friends just before taking off:
With friends in San Diego's Little Italy, getting a base for comparing Italian foods in Italy vs the ones in the States
Art on display - San Diego's Art Walk in Little Italy
And that evening, the Miss iTAN bikini contest at the Siren Lounge in San Diego's Sè Hotel, a very appropriately South Californian way to spend an evening. The brunette on the right clearly should have won, but was robbed by the judges... She was born in Hungary, so I'm currently on my way to Budapest to try and set things straight... Or I could just settle for meeting a few of her friends and beautiful country-women
And finally, from the fun and novel department, we get this tale about Iceland. No, it's got nothing to do with the volcano and the ensuing flight delays - Lynn and I were disappointed to have left Iceland without a single volcano erupting over the course of our stay there (eruptions are a regular occurrence there - most don't play havoc with airspaces over Europe), and the ash has dissipated enough by now to not be having any affect on my flight to Budapest. No, this is about the 8,000 Iceland Kronur I brought back from Iceland and promptly took to Bank of America to exchange and deposit, along with my remaining Thai Baht and British Pounds. After verifying the pictures of all three currencies in her 'big book of world currencies,' Brittney, my helpful bank clerk, processed my Baht and Pounds and moved on to the Kronur. Now, Iceland's economy has hit a bit of a rough patch lately - at one point the whole country was just about bought by Russia, and the currency has fallen enough for Iceland to make some budget travel destination lists - not because it's actually inexpensive, just because it's a whole lot cheaper than it used to be. So the currency has been a little volatile of late, but I knew my 8,000 Kroner were worth about $65 USD. Brittney, on the other hand, just as clearly did not know that, and she informed me that according to her computer, my Icelandic currency was worth $1951 USD... I wasn't quite ready for such news, so I duly pointed out that her exchange rate was off by a factor of, oh, 250. She called her manager over, conferred, and insisted that I take my two thousand dollars. I felt I had by now done my due diligence and left with a simple 'Thank you!'
I quickly transferred the money to a different account and wondered what would happen - eventually they'd have to discover the 'Bank error in your favor,' right? This isn't Monopoly after all... A week passed. And then Brittney called and very apologetically explained that their system was wrong (really!?) and she wasn't supposed to accept Icelandic currency at all, so she would need to take the money back out of my account. I pointed out that the money was no longer in the account. I got a few more apologies in response, but eventually, your bank account will be frozen (big deal, I've got others), and they'd send it to collections. I felt ruining my credit wasn't worth $2,000, so I put the money back. A few days later, I had my Kronur back, did not have my two thousand dollars anymore and was feeling a bit annoyed because that final, seemingly straightforward, exchange involved a lot more phone calls, waits, and trips to the bank than I felt it should have. I mentioned my dissatisfaction to dear Brittney, and was assured that a manager would be calling me back to 'set everything right.'
Two more weeks passed. I had time to wonder what the bank's version of 'setting everything right' might end up being; it didn't seem like it would be sufficient. Yet, no apologetic word from the manager, or anyone else. Anger kept mounting, so I went to visit the the bank yet again to express my new feelings. Brittney was very, very, very sorry again, but unfortunately, the branch didn't have a manager right now (did the manager actually get fired over the Kronur thing? I suppose, I hope not...), and it would all be settled on Monday when the new manager was arriving. That evening, I got a message from the 'temporary manager,' apologizing some more, and assuring that they had put 'a gift' in the mail to make up for the inconvenience. Hearing about the gift helped upgrade from angry to furious.
So, Monday came, the day of reckoning - I wasn't expecting much, but the new manager was certainly going to hear all about how I felt on her first day on the job. She was actually there this time, apologized some more, invited me to her desk, and went off to collect some more documents and information. I contemplated my attack. But before I could launch my assault and demand, say, a hundred or so dollars for my troubles, she came back and matter of factly stated that they would put 'the money' back in to my account because that's the right thing to do. This took me by surprise... - you mean, the $2,000? the entire two thousand dollars!? - yes, that's the right thing to do, and what we should have done in the first place - uhm, well, that is the right thing to do. I wasn't really expecting that, but thank you! Uhm, would you mind also writing me a letter stating that Bank of America will make no further attempts to retrieve this money? - certainly
So, the next day, I delivered my 8,000 Icelandic Kronur back to Bank of America, and had $1951 deposited into my account in exchange. Along with a letter from the branch manager confirming that the money was mine to keep. And thank you for being a loyal customer! Now, I generally tend to have somewhat mixed feelings on Bank of America, but any bank that can make my trip to Iceland not only inexpensive, but downright profitable, is OK by me!
Appreciate doing business with you! At the end of this current trip, I will actually be making a brief stopover in Iceland again (just for two hours to change planes this time), but I think I'm just too honest for my own good to try bringing any more Kronur back with me...
As for the current trip, me and my black eye (deflecting a hockey puck with your cheekbone [two days before departure] apparently leaves a mark... Don't worry, mom - nothing broken, I'm just going to look extra dashing for a week) are on the way to London for a few hours currently, and then on to Budapest by Friday evening. If you want to follow along, the website is back in operation and back to tracking my progress across seven continents - and this time, I plan to finally make it to Africa, that fabled 7th continent! No matter how much I keep hearing that 'real' Africa is the sub-Saharan stuff, Egypt and Tunisia will still, definitely, be enough to finish my continent count. And one day, one day, your day will come too sub-Saharan Africa! Anyway, the website, in case you'd forgotten: http://www.safety3rdblog.com.
One last picture, from London's Heathrow: a classic mini at an airport shop. British racing green, and a Union Jack on the roof - that's roughly what I'm aiming for with the one Gunnar's got at the moment
Africa reached on May 30, 2010
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Posted by Alex on Friday, January 7, 2011
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