Boston
August 25, 2000
The train for Boston left Lancaster station at 6. After 9.5 hours of failed attempts at getting some shuteye, I pulled into South Station where Fuji was patiently waiting to pick me up.
We dropped off my pack at her place in Cambridge, just outside Harvard Square and after another failed attempt at rest, hit the streets for a stroll.
Harvard Square is quite the happening scene, with quality street acts, chess 'misters' lingering outside coffee shops, and a healthy population of true kooks, nose rings and all.
Payed visit to a local camera shop and picked up a Pentax iQZoom 120 Mi replacing my already outdated (3 months old) Olympus Stylus 70 film camera.
Eventually we made our way to a popular vietnamese restaurant where we had a grand night before leaving dinner of beef noodles soup.
On the way back, I had a hand at a chess match or two, and even pulled off a victory.
The Canon S100 digital camera I ordered from a shop in Santa Barbara to replace my Kodak DC215 should arrive tomorrow morning UPS.
August 26, 2000
The day of our departure, and still no camera... I shouldn't have cut these things so close. I call UPS and as it turns out the camera was shipped to my home in PA by mistake. Dammit!
Spent the last 3 hours before boarding the plane in a desperate search around town for a replacement, and purchasing our 10 of 2 month Eurail Flexi Saver Super Pass. With new camera and pass in hand we caught the metro and a taxi to the airport, arriving at the British Airways gate no more then one minute before they shut the door of the 777 on the way to Paris.
While fooling around with my new camera like a kid on Christmas, I ended up accidently erasing a handful of photos taken throughout the fiasco and decided to start fresh with some shots of what else but the in-flight entertainment system, busy merrily showing Winnie the Pooh.
it was a long flight and an equally long night trying once again to get some desparately needed sleep with the sound of babies crying in the background.
France
August 27, 2000
After a changeover in London, we arrived in the Charles DeGaulle airport of Paris, France.
Let me just say that this airport is a joke. it is exactly how the world thought of the year 2000 back in the 70's. 100% Jetsons. it even sounds off lasers while traveling the escalators which criss-cross through the center of the space pod shaped building for no apparent reason.
The french should hold their heads in shame over this ugly spectacle of Brady Bunch architectural design. Welcome to France.
After negotiating a money exchange (6.7 francs per dollar) and purchasing a telephone card, we found a room in Hotel Central for the basement bargain price of $40 per night (Paris means pricey in French) and spent the next 6 hours getting some much needed shuteye.
Later in the evening we strolled the Latin district of town and had our first run in with the european budget travelers staple dinner, bread and cheese. For dessert, a very tasty crepe smothered with nutella and banana.
in celebration of our successful journey we spent the remainder of the evening drinking beer in a groovy little multi-cultural hole in the wall pub hip on the sounds of Cuban Salsa and the smell of a dirty urinal. The beer, Leffe and Loburg, quality brews for sure.
Tomorrow we plan on touring the traps.
August 28, 2000
Our first real day, and it was a rough one. We toured and then toured some more. Garden of Luxembourg, Notre Dame, Picasso Museum, Bastille (read as a lame opera house), and ofcourse the Louve (I wasn't terribly impressed by the Mona Lisa, but did have a good time imitating the expression).
Paris is a lovely city with a level of quality and comfort a step or two above the states, which for sure is reflected in the prices, as we quickly learned that 300 grams (enough for half a hungry traveler) of chinese food cost just over $10. For sure tasty, but a definate shocker to someone who spent the last three months eating tacos and drinking beer for fifty cents.
Night fell, and we broke down for dinner and ordered up the full french fare including: a bottle of wine (Petit Chablis '98), appetizers of frogs legs and mussels in a creamy tomato sauce, chicken cordon bleu and broiled white fish, and a banana flambe with ice cream and cookies for dessert. Total damage, $60.
I will surely learn a lesson here soon enough.
August 29, 2000
Another hell of a day by foot, all the while convincing myself 'if it doesn't kill me, it'll only make me stronger'.
Up by 10 and out by noon, we picked up a small bag of bread and cheese and fruits at a local supermarket and headed off to the train station to check the schedule. Paris to Brussels every hour on the hour.
Strolled through a very nice Jardin des Plantes and stopped to do a little people watching (a very french thing to do). After an old man jogging the perimeter of the park cleared our post a dozen times, we set out to see the Eiffel Tower. Built in 1889 as the centerpiece of the world's fair, this 300m flagpole is actually tres impressive.
For a small fee you may choose to climb the stairs or for a much larger fee, take a lift from any of the four base legs to the first two observation levels. From there a lift services a 3rd and final observation site at the very top.
Deciding we weren't yet in enough pain from the rest of our touring, and not wanting to wait in the lift line stretching 300 m down the road and look like lazy asses, we took the stairs; because of course atleast in Paris, image is everything.
The first level, restaurants, souvenir shops, and lots of confused people pretending to be in awe. The view wasn't terribly impressive.
The second level, slightly smaller but still enough space for a shop or two, less people and a much better view.
Faced with the task of finding the lift to the top, a terribly thrilled attendant pointed his stubby finger saying 'in zee maze pleaze...' Pushing our way through the maze of jungle gym gates like a heard of cattle for 10 minutes, we finally made it to the lift and minutes later the top.
The top, alot smaller, alot more crowded, and more or less the same view as the second level. My advice, save yourself the lift and the final $2.50 and stop while your ahead.
To late and lazy to push on, we decided to stay the night and take the first train out in the morning.
After a beer or two I came up with a list of steps to fitting in around Paris:
Take up smoking
While driving, pay absolutely no attention to pedestrians
Dress fashionably, preferably in accented black
Get a cellphone, and use it even while riding a bike (I counted 20 in 5 minutes)
Drag around a dog with you everywhere, preferably matching the color of your cellphone
Practice being romantic, rose in hand waiting for that special someone
Spend entire days eating and people watching from a sideline seat in a high profile cafe
Get used to shelling out $5 for a small and unimpressive beer
Learn to appreciate the finer foods such as 'foie gras' (pureed duck liver)
Learn French
Belgium
August 30, 2000
Up early in the morning and on the train to Brussels, Belgium. Toured around Brussels until 6, seeing all the 'impressive' sights and eating waffles and chocolate as we went. The most impressive sight by far being the Grand Place, an old city square preserved from the 1600's, followed closely by the 'boy peeing' statue which they dress in a different costume daily.
in general, Brussels is a nice city, but Paris has it beat. Same high prices. After catching up on some email we jumped on the 6:10 train to Bruges, thus completing our first of 10 days of rail travel.
By 7, we had setup camp a few miles outside of town, and hit up the campground restaurant for dinner. Fuji finished off a big pot of mussels $20. Me, a small bowl of soup $3.
August 31, 2000
Bruges, a tourist town famous for its lace and doiles, chocolate, and beer. Toured around for most of the day sampling beers as we went.
Quite impressed by the Strauffe Brewery (one of the original 40 breweries of Bruges) where they explained the techniques that made Belgian beer, and particularly their beer the best in the world. We learned why Corona uses too much corn, why the British don't have a clue, and why open vat cooling is prone to pigeon poop and is simply unacceptable.
Satisfied by our 'free' beer following the $6 admission, we continued on to see lots of old churches, buildings, quaint city streets, and tourists doing their best to act romantic without having their cellphones interfere terribly with the otherwise pleasant atmosphere.
On the return trip through town, we happened into a stealth and cleverly unmarked supermarket selling food at half street price. Seeing they had been found out, they immediately started shutting down and pushing for us to leave. We escaped with a loaf of bread, bar of chocolate, bottle of water, and a 4-pack of Leffe for $6.
September 1, 2000
Today is best described as scattered showers and beer. We toured the Gordon Boom brewery, ran into a couple argentinians, and visited a few pubs. More mussels for dinner, and a night of rain.
Netherlands
September 2, 2000
After spending an hour drying our gear, we packed up and snuck out the 'alternate exit' thus avoiding an extra night of camping fees.
After an uneventful train ride, we ended up in Amsterdam, the city of sin, where just about everything is legal. A popular city for young hedonistic budget travelers for sure.
Checked into the famous Flying Pig Hostel for $20 and headed out for a stroll. This place is absolutely nuts, and everyone here is either a little crazy or well on their way.
Happens that the Dutch & irish were having at a game of futbol (soccer) when we arrived, and the streets were full of spirited fans singing and drinking.
Back at the ranch, I met a group of travelers: Patrick (soon to be lawyer), Blaire (niece of Carl Sheffer, one of the founders of ZBT-RPi), Debarski & Doris (chemical engineers of Austin, TX) and Harry & Laura (taking a long weekend of London).
We spent the night carrying on in the 'coffee shops' and singing and dancing with the fervent irish who where lucky to have tied the Dutch and were beyond alcoholic recovery, all the while singing U2 and drinking until 6.
September 3, 2000
in an attempt to get out of the city and clear our heads, the gang rented bicycles for a trip into the countryside village of Monnickendam.
We were properly lost throughout the entire journey, and saw lots of cows, sheep, goats, wind, rain, marsh, and even a windmill. The Holland countryside is a beautiful place and the local folk are very kind, even to tourists busy wrecklessly devouring their country and crushing the tulips.
Returning by dark, we prepared a good pasta feeding in preparation for another late night of 'activities'.
September 4, 2000
Spent the day touring around town. Visited the Dam Square with its assorted freaks, the Van Gogh museum with its sunflowers and mental insanity, and the home of Anne Frank a Jewish girl who spent 2 years hiding from the Germans and keeping a journal to tell the story.
A few observations on Amsterdam:
No one actually 'lives' here, just a bunch of perpetually stoned tourists
Streets consist of 5-7 lanes (2 pedestrian, bike, car, trolley, and boat) with no one actually using their intended lane, making getting around a real trick
There are an unusual number of falafel stands (I have yet to figure this one out)
Street signs giving directions drag you all over the city, eventually to leave you lost and on the opposite side of town from your anticipated destination
The people (other tourists) are unusually kind and equally clueless
Most 'coffee shops' don't sell coffee
After cooking up a wonderful curry for dinner, we headed out to tour the famous sex museums (wide-eyed) and the Red Light District (even wider-eyed) where women stand behind large street-side windows in their underwear, legally doing their best to sell their sex for a 100 Guilders. Mind you, photos strictly prohibited.
Tomorrow we plan on taking a train to Dusseldorf, Germany where a friend of a friend has offered us a place to stay.
Germany
September 5, 2000
Early rise, cruised town one last time, picking up some gifts and checking out the freaks of the Dam Square. Checked out of the Flying Pig and boarded the train to Dusseldorf, Germany.
No thrills, we made it in under 3 hours and hopped on a local line to the nearby small town of Meerbusch, where Stephane and family live. Well, we found our way to their doorstep, and Stephane
family was sure suprised, as he apparently forgot to inform them that we were coming. Together with a massive language barrier between us made for quite an interesting welcome.
Confused, they kindly took us in and elected the neighbor who lived in iowa for a year to be our translator. They showed great hospitality and equal curiosity until Stephane returned from work.
Stephane, who was also suprised, apparently had not checked his email and instantly switched gears from tired telemarketer to honorable offguard host.
After brushing off some family formailities, he took us into old town Dusseldorf, where we spent the evening talking over a few beers. Stephane is quite an interesting guy, energetic and full of inspiration and life.
Also an avid traveler, he had lots of good stories about bike touring through france and the Australian outback which he recently toured with his girlfriend Sabine.
An entertaining welcome to Germany, where the official cheer is "prost".
September 6, 2000
Spent the morning posting my first web update, the biggest so far, complete with over 70 photos and 2 weeks of story. My new cameras are working well and I am happy with the results, however the procedure is a bit more involved.
Following work, Stephane and took us into the nearby city of Cologne, where the mayor sat in a box for 9 days in attempt to raise support for his re-election. Needless to say, the media had a field day, everyone thought he was an idiot, and he lost.
We toured perhaps the only thing of real interest in the city, Der Dom Zu Kohn, a 160 m Gothic cathedral housing the clothes Jesus was said to have worn on the cross. We climbed all 509 spiral steps (dizzy, dizzy) of the south tower and caught an incredible view of the city before the rains began.
We continued around town for an hour in the rains hopping in and out of the local shops, checking out guitars, CDs, and photo gear where I got a reasonably priced second battery for my apparently power hungry camera.
Eventually we made it back to Meerbusch, where family was waiting with an incredibly tasty dinner of: Pork Schnitzel, tornado shaped potatoe poppers, fresh lemon dill salad, ice cream with Eierlikor sauce, and of course good beer (Bitburger and Diebels Ale).
I was so full, I could hardly roll my way from the table to the living room couch, where we spent the night playing cards, watching german music videos and drinking and eating more. I shall surely leave here fat and happy.
Real German Schnitzel
September 7, 2000
My greatest accomplishment today was to do my laundry. Otherwise, it was a day of sleeping and eating. For dinner, mom whipped up a quick batch of Reibekuchen (egg, onion, and potatoe pancakes) served with applesauce and sugar. Tasty.
Little bro Christian, followed up by driving us around his favorite spots in Meerbusch. There really is nothing in Meerbusch, but we had a good time eating ice cream, shopping for chocolate in the local grocery, looking at a toy and CD store, and skipping stones along the polluted Rhine.
Stephane and family are leaving for 2 days to a funeral. Tomorrow we will spend the day in Dusseldorf and take the night train to Prague, the capital of the Czech Republic.
Real German Reibekuchen
September 8, 2000
After saying our goodbyes, Stephane dropped us off at the Dusseldorf station on his way to work. Threw our gear in a locker, reserved our train tickets, and headed out to explore Dusseldorf.
Dusseldorf is perhaps the most boring city I have been to. A definate working city with little to offer the curious adventurer, other then extremely over priced clothing, a church or two, and a small but pleasant street market.
A few observations:
The people are not terribly sociable, rather stiff and firmly directed
They are serious about their meats, cheeses, and breads with an 8 pound loaf not being uncommon
The cars are small and the gas pricey at 4. per gallon
A high respect is held for the critical thinker/arguer
They really dig shoes
Czech
September 9, 2000
After a suprisingly restful night of sleep on the train, we pulled into Prague at 10. Walked around town for an hour and settled on the Atlas Hostel for 9 a night.
Spent the remainder of the day walking aimlessly through the heart of old town. Old town Prague is terribly beautiful, perhaps the most appealing city I have visited so far.
Most of the buildings date back to the 14th century, and are well preserved. it is no problem finding an ATM or anything else you might need, and unfortunately there are enough tourist here to prove it.
Even with such a high quality of life, everything is unexplicably cheap. A good half liter of beer will cost you .50 and you can get an exceptional dinner, complete with drink and dessert for 5.
That is exactly what we did.
150g Beef Goulash
400g Roast Duck
A dozen or so dumplings
Suprisingly good sourkraut and side salad
Apple cake and chocolate tart
A few beers
Full from a great dinner and tired from the walking and travel, we retired to bed early.
September 10, 2000
Today we got up early and took a walking tour before the hoards of tourist moved in to take over the town.
We strolled town in the wee hours of morn. as guide Paula, a local student showed us the famous Charles Bridge, the Prague Castle, home of the Vitus Cathedral (largest in the world) where the town treasures are stored behind a door with 7 locks, and the various old town avenues.
Prague is very peaceful in the morning when the streets are empty, quite different from the disneyland circus it becomes midday, making a walk like this very rewarding.
Slept off the next few hours before hitting the streets once again for more observation.
While taking in dinner at a small alley-side restaurant, we ran into Stephane of Canada, a guy I had met over a game of chess in Amsterdam. Small world! He informed us of another livelier and cheaper Clown & Bard hostel. We'll move tomorrow.
September 11, 2000
Fuji, dug in like a tick, wasn't hip on the idea of moving hostels. Over an hour I listened to her piss and moan. Well, in search of the lively scene and encouraging adventure I packed up for the move. On the way out the door, she decided to join me.
The Clown & Bard crowd is a lively bunch, akin to the Flying Pig. After enjoying a 'free' beer with the money saved from the move, we signed up for the 'real' tour with Paul of London. Anticipated as a 3 hour city walk, we spent 5 hours digging deep into the history of Prague.
Paul is quite the guide and very knowledgeable and enjoys his work. We covered everything from the Russian attempts at normalization to radio free europe and the connection with the Velvet Underground. We had a great time, and I strongly recommend it to all.
Back at the circus, a group of England were having at a game of chess. Spent the evening teaching them a thing or two and carrying on in good spirits with the rest of the inmates.
September 12, 2000
My advice, don't waste your time visiting Kutna Hora, a legendary day trip from Prague. An hour and a half there, and hour and a half back, to see what amounts to a pile of bones, creatively arranged by a bored monk. Other then that the towns got nothing going for it.
The people also seem ruthless and pathetically and unjustifiably rude. I couldn't even get a haircut, as they would just turn to me and shake there head 'no' as I entered the salon. Maybe I am exagerating their attitude, but trust me that an extra day in Prague is far more worthy.
After learning that valuable lesson, we returned to Prague for some dinner and gift shopping while we waied for the 10pm train to interlaken, Switzerland.
Well I got a little carried away strolling and picture taking, and by 9:20 we found ourselves lost in the middle of old town. To stubborn to hail a cab, we started the aimless jog to the station. After exactly 20 minutes of zigzagging and luring kodak moments we happened across the station where the doors of the train were closing.
We shouted to the conductor to wait, and thankfully he did, all the while shaking his head at us in dissapproval. Hearts pounding, breathing heavy, and sweating we found our way to our cabin. 'See, told you we'd make it' energized and grinning from ear to ear. 'i could use a little less adventure' Fuji apparently uninspired.
inflated my travel pillow, dawned my blinders and we were off.
Switzerland
September 13, 2000
The train pulled into Zurich, Switzerland at 10am. While waiting for our connecting train, we decided to take a quick look around. Like Dusseldorf, Zuric is a working city. People in a hurry and nothing of real interest to see. After one hour, satisfied that we had seen all there is, we boarded the train onward.
A second connection left us in Bern, city of bears and Toblerone, also the home of Albert Einstein from 1902 through 1909 during his formative relativity years. Similar in atmosphere to Prague but more expensive (a Big Mac will set you back $4) and less impressive (we have an astronomical clock too).
After putting together a lunch of ham and cheese sandwiches at the local supermarket and touring what's left of Eistein's home, we once again boarded the train, final stop interlaken.
As the name implies interlaken is a town between two lakes, nestled at the foot of the Swiss Alps. it immediately became apparent that we would have no problem finding Kodak moments here. Stunning scenery.
Exhausted from the town hopping, we checked into Heidi's Hostel for $10, where a 'quick nap' expanded into a nights sleep.
September 14, 2000
Broke down this morning and got myself a Swiss Army Knife, Camper Model, for $13 in a small shop where the young lady slaved away at the engraving machine tearing up 3 knives before finally getting it right. A tribute to Swiss precision at its finest.
Took a hike along the wanderweg (nature trail) outside of town, where we caught some very impressive views of the city from above. On the way back we happened across a moped rental and signed up for a half day. Top speed, 40 on the downhill with a tail wind, I truely miss my scoot.
We had a great time touring the countryside with its perfectly prototypical small villages and grassy fields. Along the way we stopped to check out Trummelbach Falls, a series of 10 waterfalls that serve to drain the glaciers and 42000m snow-capped peaks of the Alps of the Jungfrau region. The water flows fast (20,000 l/s) and cold (2c).
All said and done, I set a personal record for most pictures taken in a day, and we only scratched the surface. My recommendation, start at 9am and go for a full day. Better yet, do the whole of Switzerland by bike.
September 15, 2000
Planned on joining Skydive interlaken on a helicopter jump into town. After walking to the airport and waiting around for an hour in typical drop zone style, I was notified of the chopper being full and so it was called off.
Dissappointed, we returned to town to board the train to Strasbourg, France in hopes of visiting buddy Rolf for a few days before heading to the Oktoberfest in Munich.
Rolf, a friend met in the depths of the UCSB Vision Research Labs completing a MS in Signals and introduced to CMi, recently relocated to France with hopes of starting a technical service branch abroad. Well, apparently politics kicked in, and last I heard he quit. We'll see.
With work all mixed up, the stress of moving, and a relationship crisis underway (just walked out on), he was in no mood for acting out the jolly host as we arrived... Bad timing? Well, we pulled him and Cynthia (girlfriend) back together for a few beers at a nearby pub, and after a few hours, the stress catalyzed and things cheered right up.
Maybe it was good timing after all.
France
September 16, 2000
A perfect day. Up early and off to breakfast. Okay, so maybe it wasn't so early and we had lunch, but it fer sure was a beautiful day.
Strasbourg is like Paris, but much much smaller. The people are friendlier and in much less of a hurry. At noon they even close the streets off to cars making walking around a real pleasure. Well, that is exactly what we did.
Apparently this is a special weekend for the French as all the city museums and attractions were open to the public free of charge. Spent the afternoon strolling around, and checked out a museum and a National Geographic exhibit displaying some impressive photography.
Later in the evening, I spent some time updating my website as Rolf and Cynthia (his girlfriend) whipped up a killer dinner of Greek Salad, bread, cheese, and wine. After last night, it sure is good to see them happy together again.
We spent the evening playing chess and cards, talking about jazz and the blues.
September 17, 2000
Another day of strolling, conversation, beer, and chess. Raining and cold, but still pleasent. it's nice to spend days like this with good friends. Sometimes I feel there is just too much stress in my life. Tomorrow we plan on moving Rolf out of his pad and into Cynthia's.
September 18, 2000
The big move to Cynthia's pad all of 2 blocks away. Since they shut the streets off at noon, we had to work swift and efficient. Even with the unusually narrow and slanted french stairwells and elevators we managed the move in under 4 hours. it was really no problem at all.
Thankfully, yesterdays weather cleared up and it was another beautiful day. We celebrated with more of the same, eating, drinking, and being merry.
Tomorrow Fuji and I plan on heading to Munich for the Oktoberfest where Olaf, another friend of a friend, stepped up to the plate kindly offering us a place to stay.
September 19, 2000
At 7am the great bells began and rang without cease for 15 minutes. Nothing musical or special, just irritating. Needless to say it woke me up like any good alarm clock should. I can't believe this has been going on for hundreds of years without complaint.
Lollygagged around, met up with Rolf for breakfast, and eventually said our goodbyes. Rolf and Cynthia were exceptional hosts, and I left them with a bottle of wine and some flowers to decorate their new place.
Germany
Just missed the 11:30 train, so we relaxed outside the station until the 1:30 came rolling in. Tried to call Olaf with no success.
European phones take some getting used to with country and city codes to worry about. Combined with a non-unified nomenclature it is often times impossible to determine where one starts and the other ends, which is critical since depending on where you are they must be prefixed by 0, 00, 19, and sometimes even dropped all together.
To compound the trouble, most public phones only accept calling cards and every country has got its own. Maybe the European Union should work on coordinating its phones before taking on the larger uni-currency problem. it is all quite confusing to me.
Anyway, we pulled into Munich at 6:30 (later then expected) only to find nobody home. Tossed about what to do, we started plotting out a hidden area to setup our tent. No sooner did we pick a spot when Olaf returned, back from a climbing course he forgot he had signed up for.
We talked awhile before heading off to bed.
September 20, 2000
Today we strolled town in the morning and afternoon, meeting up with Olaf and his co-workers of the European Patent Office to celebrate the Oktoberfest.
After that, all I can remember is alot of drinking, dancing and singing, and more drinking.
Contrary to popular belief the official song of the event is not some traditional german umpa-lumpa gig, rather an english rock song going something like:
'Hey...hey baby...I wanna know know know know know would you be my girl' We had a great time and I would recommend it to anyone, but bring yer wallet.
September 21, 2000
A terribly rainy day, making for a perfect wind down to last night's festivities. My biggest achievement, making dinner for Olaf.
September 22, 2000
This morning Olaf took off on a weekend vacation with his girlfriend to italy, leaving behind the keys to his pad and a pound of trust. Olaf is a great guy, and for sure one of the 'good ones'.
Well, I finally mailed off some of the dead weight I been lugging around. Cost $35, benefit 4kg. it should find its way home within a couple weeks.
Tomorrow morning Fuji is off to Malaysia to end her vacation, and so is the Let's Go guide, so I picked up an outrageously overpriced Lonely Planet at a local bookstore.
Spent the majority of the afternoon touring the Deutsches Museum, the world's largest, and by far the most complete science and technology museum. it puts the Smithsonian to shame with exhibits ranging from bridges and circuits to an underground mine.
I spent 5 hours in awe, and you could easily spend an interesting 3 days there. I full heartedly recommend it.
Out of the mines and into the center of town I passed the Glockenspiel doing its thing. For 10 minutes straight it carried on dinging and donging and animating wooden ballerenas. it even sounded off a rooster at the end, all quite impressive even to this jaded tourist.
September 23, 2000
Lonely day. At 5am Fuji left to catch her flight, once again I travel solo. it kinda feels good.
Beautiful day. Spent the afternoon strolling the gardens around town.
Productive day. Back at the ranch, I ran into a Steffen Gast with tools in hand staring confused at an old MotoGuzzi italian cycle.
Always one to lend a hand (especially on motorcycles) I offered help. Apparently the bike had been in storage for 3 years and now it wouldn't start, infact it backfired terribly.
We went through systematically checking the fuel system and carburators. No problems. On to the ignition. Problem. The reference manual wiring diagram was coded in italian. Pocket translator to the rescue we determined the ignition cables were swapped left and right which would obviously explain the backfiring.
We switched the cables and it fired right up 'better then it sounded 5 years ago' Steffen said. Elated by this and my help, he invited me to dinner at the Lucullus Greek Tavern next door.
The food was incredible and so was the company. We talked for hours on motorcycles, travelling, German history (he was a history teacher), and work (he is a computer programmer).
I learned about Bismark and his unification of Germany and why the Bavarians consider themselves separate from the greater Germany. He also had some good ideas considering work for me outside the US.
Realizing I could use to upload my Oktoberfest photos, he also offered me time on his computers at work tomorrow, which I shall surely use. For sure, another good guy.
Earlier in the day, Yann, a Patent Office cohort I met during the Octoberfest, invited me to move my gear over to his place to stay.
A bit late, I packed out of Olaf's and jumped on the U-bahn across town where Yann welcomed me in.
September 24, 2000
I woke to the sound of the bathroom mirror breaking free of its sponge tape backing and crashing to the floor. Thank god I wasn't on the toilet at the time or things coulda been messy. Spent an hour picking up the broken pieces and cleaning the 'glass dust'.
it was then when I got the call from Steffen to check out his work and use the computers. Steffen is a database programmer for an internet startup. Clearly they had were well connected and the uploads went through in record time. 50 uncompresed images in a half hour.
We talked a bit about internet travel site ideas. Steffen is a bright guy with lots of great ideasand surely this is not the last I hear of him.
On the way back to Yann's I picked up a train reservation for tomorrow night to Berlin. Yann was happy as he had come in 9th of over 100 runners in the local marathon. As with Olaf he is also a moving Marvin, just can't sit down for too long.
We took in dinner at a traditional Bavarian restaurant (read: 'Which sausage would you like?') and talked about the possibilities of near term world unification. Mark my words, the world will be quite a different place in 30 years.
September 25, 2000
A day of revisiting the most impressive museum I have been to to date, the Deutsches Museum. There really is alot to see, and I still feel I have barely sratched its surface.
On my way through town I ran into Mike, Niels, and Kjeld of Denmark drinking in the Markt. 'You haven't been to the Hofbrau house?' 'Surely we must go!'. Welcome to the Hofbrau house, Germany's oldest beer house, where I spent the rest of the day drinking and meeting group after group of unknown and interesting people.
2 hours before my train departure, I returned to pickup my gear, said my goodbyes and settled in on the 8 hour overnight train to Berlin.
After getting kicked out of a sleeper, I managed to find space to inflate my Thermarest on the floor under the seats. Contray to how it looks, there really isnt much room under the seats, and I didn't get a second of sleep.
September 26, 2000
Checked into the BaxPax on the east-side for $11 where I met Mark Direen of Australia also in the middle of an extended world tour. We took a walk along 'the wall' and swapped stories and travel ideas as he just finished up the middle east and is headed toward Central America.
The wall is a bit different then I expected. A 20' high slab of concrete covetred in artistic and political murals. it is hard to imagine only 11 years ago it was all for real. Berlin is rapidly changing and construction zones occupy the entire city, sprouting cranes like weeds.
Unlike other Eurocities, it is full of recent history, not the works of some Romans of 600 years ago. infact, all those monuments have been bombed to hell.
This is from where Hitler commanded the Nazis with orders to kill off the jews, and consequently this is where during the heart of the cold war, a wall was constructed by the communists to prevent migration of their people to the properous west, thus separating the city in half.
As you look across the city all this is evident in the structures an the way people carry themselves and it is all quite moving.
After a few hours of strolling we picked up some Doner Kebabs and beer and headed back to the ranch where I hit the bed hard for a few hours of much needed recovery sleep from a restless last night.
Re-energized, we rallied the troops to go and checkout the nightlife. Refused admission to the underground 'friends only' scene we found ourselves a small irish pub and settled in for the night.
September 27, 2000
A beautiful day. Took the 'insider' walking tour. interesting, but not as good as the 'Real' tour in Prague and far too many people. Afterwards the gang headed to the nearest watering hole. Chris mentioned doing a Harley tour across America come April, interesting.
September 28, 2000
Another great day! Toured the Checkpoint Charlie, the crossing between east and west Berlin where I learned of the top 10 ways to dodge a border undetected, including hollowing out a surfboard and digging a tunnel, apparently hot topics during the cold war.
Climbed the Dom du Berlin for a great view of the city and checked out the art exhibit 'Do you wash here or free', where some bright young artist setup 500 washing machines (w/o dryers) in the square for people to use for free. This goes to prove the Germans are a strange breed.
Back at the ranch the gang put together an impressive and royal feeding based on my authentic schnitzel recipe followed by another night on the town.
September 29, 2000
Checked out and moved my gear to a locker in the train station where it sat waiting for the night train to Venice, italy. Most of the gang went their own way, leaving Chris and I behind for a final day of wandering around town.
We visited the Potsdamer Platz center, a recently constructed hyper-rad showcase of high-rises by companies like Sony, definately in high contrast to the otherwise dull brickhouse architecture (oer lack thereof) of Berlin.
After playing with the latest in consumer electronics we revisited some of the other local landmarks.
Slowly my stomach started to turn on me. Something I ate wasn't agreing with me, and the quality of my emmisions made it hard to ignore. The beginning of something serious? Lucky for me the symptoms subsided after putting in some time on the John.
Italy
September 30, 2000
The train to Venice was uneventful other then the fact that the conductor leaving Berlin stamped my ticket with the wrong date, which I had to explain to all the conductors from then on. They let me go but not without giving me 'the look'. and a little attitude.
Fueled only by a pretzel and an apple strudel, I somehow made it through the 16 hour journey and even managed to grab some sleep this time. My train sleping techniques are getting better. The other passengers still laugh at my attempts, but they seem somewhat impressed at the same time.
Overcast and scattered showers, welcome to Venice where the Lira is the currency and it trades at 2200:1.
The first thing that took me by suprise was the canal of water passed infront of the train station, where a crowded road would normally be. No cars, busses, or trains here, only boats. The traditional and overpriced Gondoles for the romantic, and the Vaporettos or subway boats for people like me.
Alberto of Columbia, a fellow traveler met on the train and I took line 41 to the hostel where we met Pierre Felipe (photographer) and Gustov (architect) of Belgium. All starving, we headed straight to the nearest pizzeria where I had a couple killer big and tasty thin and chewy crust slices of pizza and a drink for $3.50. For dessert, a gelato (ice-cream), two scoop for a buck. Ahhh, the good life.
October 1, 2000
The people of Venice are by far the rudest people I have met so far, and every interaction with one today proved dissappointing.
Scenario 1: I waken at 10 to an empty room. Confused but feeling great peace I go to take a shower. Chlorine bleach fills the air, and a lady with a mop in hand barks at me for 10 minutes in shotgun italian pointing toward a second bathroom. Okay, whatever, I go there. Not more then 5 minutes later someone starts banging on the shower door. 'Yes?' No response, just a shadow waiting outside and more banging. I finish up and on my way out I am barked at by a man apparently very dissappointed
that I had not read the small sign in the basement indicating the hostel is closed between 9 and 2. Honest mistake I think, 'Sorry I will leave right away'. He thinks not, 'Now you must pay me a penalty'. This leaves me angry for an hour.
Scenario 2: I an Alberto are enjoying a game of backgammon in a small pub. Without warning and in the middle of the game, one of the bartenders walks over and sweeps the pieces off the table crying '4,000 lira per game'. No excuse or pardon me, nothing like that.
I understand rules are rules, but they simply have no concept of tolerance for the unaware. A real shame for an otherwise beautiful city.
Another day of rain.
October 2, 2000
Good things come to those who wait, and after the last 2 days of being shit on, todays blue skies were a pleasent change.
I heard someone say 'Venice is beautiful in the rain, but even more so in the sun' and I couldn't agree more.
Checked out the Basillica S. Giogio, where I rode the lift to the top of the bellfry for an incredible view of the city.
Took the vaporatto to the mainland and S. Marco square where thousands of tourists were literally fighting thousands of pigeons for standing room. I kept myself amused watching some Japanese get attacked by the merciless birds. They seemed to enjoy it too.
Well, after 3 days I have accomplished quite a bit here. I no longer feel lost in the maze of shoulder width alleys and I have had more pizza and gelato then any other human could possibly handle, successfully checking off all 60 varieties.
I checked into the train schedule and plan on catching the 3pm to Cinque Terra, 5 supposedly breathtaking towns along the north western coast.
October 3, 2000
Up and out early. Said my goodbyes and jumped on the vaporetta to the small island of Murano, famous for its glass factories. its popularity is well justified as there is more nice glass there then you could possibly break in one full day.
Stopped in the cemetary for a quick look around, and I must admit italy has got Mexico beat. Every grave is loaded with fresh flowers, and as a one up they also each have a photo of the deceased embedded in the headstone. I almost felt like I knew the folk. Kinda touching.
Spent the remainder of the day on the 6 hour train to Monterosso, the first of the 5 coastal towns that make up what is called Cinqua Terra.
As I arrived in town very late, I slept under the pier on the beach.
October 4, 2000
Woke up to the sound of one very old and obviously very frustrated man swearing at me in italian. Oops, no camping on the beach. I packed out quick, found myself some fruit for breakfast and did a little snorkeling in the sea.
Today I start the walk along the coastal mountain trail that separates the 5 towns. Most people do the walkin 5 hours, but I am in no hurry and will give it 2 days and camp somewhere along the way.
incredible day, the summer sun and a cool sea breeze, perfect for the hike. Coupled with the mountain side scenery it all reminded me alot of Santa Barbara.
Left town at 11 and after 3 hours of intervals of climbing, heavy sweating and breathing, and photo breaks (read: rest stops) I found my way to the second town of Vernazza. My writings can do no justice to this place, and I only hope the photos give it half the credit it deserves. The landscape is stunning! A definate must see. A visit to italy without touring Cinqua Terra is like kicking yourself in the ass. To do it right, all you really need is a sleeping bag, a camera & film, a small bag of food, and a bottle or two of the local wine.
Exhausted from the first segement, I spent 3 hours at the top of the town castle eating bread and cheese, drinking local wine, and relaxing in the sun followed by a quick dip in the water.
After 2 more hours of strenuous hiking (40 pound backpack) I made it to Corniglia. With the sun about to set I back tracked to a secluded area on top of the mountain and setup camp.
October 5, 2000
Compared to yesterday, today was a light day of hiking. Up and on the trail by 10 I arrived in Manarola in under an hour. Broke out my mask and snorkel and jumped in the sea. Still too far North for tropical fish, but the water was clear and refreshingly cool. Besides, I really needed a bath. After a few more hours of stretching in the sun, I took off on the final segment to RioMaggiore. Total hiking time, 7 hours. My legs are beat.
While lingering around the train station trying to decide if I should stay the night of grab a late train to Pisa, I met a travelling Daniel and his mom Sylvia of Sterling, Colorado. They invited me to stay on an extra bed they had in their hotel and introduced me to another traveller they also adopted somewhere along the way named Bill, also of Colorado. Together we watched the sunset and treated ourselves to a exquisite dinner of Antipasti, Primer and Segund Piattis, and wine. Tiramisu for dessert of course.
October 6, 2000
Took the early morning train to Pisa to check out the leaning tower and yes, it is for real. A bell tower where Galaleo did his famous experiments on gravity, and at a 5 degree inclination, it is a real suprise it hasn't crumbled to the ground.
The city is doing its best to remedy the problem, including loading it up with lead weights, digging counter-balance holes in the ground, and harnessing it up with a weighted wire bridle. They say the process should take years to complete and no one is even convinced it will work. Odd that we can send a man to the moon and build bridges that span 1000's of meters, but when it comes to straightening out a building we just stand there and scratch our heads.
With that said and done, I hopped on the late train to Florence, where I learned it is unwise to assume you will always find a place to stay at the last minute. With all the local hostels booked, I set out to find a campground, which in the end worked out great. A free site at the top of the neighboring Michelangelo hills with a great view of the city. Setup camp next to Sisko, a drug addict from Venice, busy mixing techo rave music using a double cassette deck. Oh, the stories I heard...
October 7, 2000
Florence is without question one of the most spectacular cities of my travels so far. Home of the Duomo, Europes most famous cathedral, and also the home of more museums, plazas, cathedrals, sculptures, and freaks then you could possibly see in a lifetime. Thank god I am not to concerned to see it all. Spent the day on a random walk pattern through town and sidetracked into all sorts of good fun. Took in dinner at Cafe ZaZa where I met Tracy Phelps of Florida, Hans Doellgast of North Carolina, and Linley Bowyer of Atlanta, Georgia. We spent the evening drinking cheap wine and city gazing from the mountain top.
October 8, 2000
Laundry day... 5 machines + 1 working = real joy. More undirected wandering about. At around 4 to everyone's suprise, a parade formed out of nowhere. Marching down the middle of the street where a few dozen men in leotards and other silly wears, carrying flags, banging on drums, and without warning firing off cannons. They slowly made their way to the town center and dissappeared into the Duomo. Still not sure what that was all about, but rumours say Ferrari just won some car competition. Strange...
October 9, 2000
My final day in Florence. Toured the Duomo, not terribly impressed with the interior design other then a cool ceiling painting. Climbed the bell tower, not terribly impressed with the view.
Broke down and bought a leather jacket at the Cologne Leather Factory, where the owner did a sufficient job convincing me that all the other shops were crap, and they import their jackets from china, and they use inferior materials and poor and underpaid labor, and that he personally designed mine special and its all about quality.
What really does quality mean these days? Anyways, when I took out my digital camera for a shot they got silly and told me of their internet dreams of jumping on the web bandwagon (better late then never), but oh if only they had a clue where to start.
Well, I got them online and registered their domain CologneLeather.com at a nearby internet cafe, pictures to come.
Took the late train to Siena and once again without a place to stay, I found myself a clearing in the neighboring countryside and setup camp.
October 10, 2000
Haircut day! 3rd one since beginning my tour and my most expensive at $18. From the outside it looked like a cheap barber shop. Always ask the price ahead of time.
Feeling invinsible and sexier then ever I toured Siena. Saw Piazza Campo, a big slanted brick arena in the middle of town that they race horses in twice a year, and the Duomo which I was actually impressed with.
Mixed showers, I decided to check into a hostel for the night and dry out my gear. it rained all night.
October 11, 2000
Too much city dwelling, I decided to take a step out and see the countryside. Hopped on a bus to Monteriggioni, a 10 home castle walled village 30 minutes outside Siena in the Tuscan countryside.
Well, the bus driver decided not to make the stop and I ended up walking the distance. Late to arrive, I was also late to leave and needless to say missed the last bus to San Gimignano.
A beautiful day. Now would be a good time to let my finger fly and do a bit of hitchhiking I thought. Thumbs up. Within 5 minutes and to my luck Kirstin, a beautiful girl from Hamburg, Germany pulled over. Haircut maybe?
On a one week thunder tour of italy and the Tuscan region before returning to university, she had rented a car and was terribly confused as to where she was and where she was going.
'San Gimignano, I suppose?' Sounded good to her, and after an hour of confused travel (15 minutes by bus) we found it. S. Gimignano is a truely medieval town famous for its towers. After introducing her to Gelato, finding a much needed bathroom,
and reloading our cameras with film, we climbed the grandest tower of them all, Torre Grosse where we had an incredible view and scared a few tourists by standing nervously close to the edge.
Determined to get in a bit of winetasting before nightfall, Kirsten rushed us outta townand on another crazed journey along the scenic roads that cu through the Tuscan valley. There were wineries everywhere as far as I could see, but no they weren't 'the one'.
Well, by the time we got to 'the one', it was closed and the lady in charge was in no mood to serve up another.
A little dissappointed but very much determined, Kirsten had us back on the road to another hopeful destination.
By nightfall we still had yet to see a glass of wine, but for sure we had a good and memorable time talking, singing, and seeing the beautiful countryside.
Unboaund by rails and schedules, it is times like this when I really miss travelling by motorbike. You really miss everything otherwise.
Eventually we settled into a hotel in Chianti and scouted out a tasty dinner of bruschette, pasta, and to Kirstens thankful approval a bottle of fine local wine.
October 12, 2000
The morning, touring the Chianti countryside. Alas we find success wine tasting.
The afternoon, a visit to Montevarchi, a modern and relatively uninspiring town, who's only worthy feature a Prada outlet (read: high fashion clothing at even higher 'discounted' prices).
Kirsten had to do a little shopping before returning home, and well what the hell, I never been to anything so trendy so I figured I would give it a shot, so we took numbers and waited and waited to enter this exclusive shop.
We waited atleast an hour, and by the time we got in I had already put back a cappucino or two.
Kirsten quickly found a few purses and jackets. Caught up in the thought of exercising fashion somehow I ended up with a cashmire sweater and a t-shirt that makes me out to be much stronger then I really am.
Kirsten headed North on a 3 hour drive to catch her flight home out of Milano, and me heading South on a 3 hour train to Rome to continue my travels we said our goodbyes.
A nice train ride. Italian trains are the best, why?
No need to reserve your seat and pay a fee
They are cheaper then walking
They have big windows you can hang your head out of
Checked into a hostel and took in dinner with the new gang.
I have never in my life heard someone snore so loud. Combined with my inflatable pillow finally giving in I got no sleep. As soon as I would leave the room and move to the hall to avoid the noise, it would stop and the road noise would start.
All night people hammering sheet metal gutters. Back to the room. The snoring begins again. Repeat 6 times.
October 13, 2000
Toured town with Jamaica of Santa Cruz. Saw the colloseum, the roman forum, and a church or two. Rome is like Florence on steroids. Don't expect to really see any of it unless you have a few years to spend.
Thankfully I am not bent on seeing it all, so we just strolled around casually and left the potential panick syndrome behind.
Back at the ranch we broke open a bottle of wine I had in my pack from Chianti and passed it around talking world politics with an Arab.
Slowly a gang developed and one bottle turned into two and then three and the place lit up with lively discussion about everything from dancing mickey toys to patriotism.
The gang eventually moved to a bar outside the Pantheon.
October 14, 2000
More touring with Jamaica and Matty of Australia. Was terribly unimpressed by the Spanish Steps, no flowers just crowds wondering where the flowers were.
Happened across the Vatican where the pope was to give a talk. The crowd was big and ruthless with parents holding their naked babies in the air, people pushing and shoving to get a better view, and nuns on cellphones.
We decided to sidetrack on a neighboring alley and found ourselves in the middle of a posh retail street with torches burning incense on the side of the street and $1000 marble statues of the budda for sale.
Eventually we happened into an artist plaza where the kids had their caricatures done and we saw finger puppet shows and freaks lying on beds of nails.
Took in a nice dinner and returned to the hostel where a party gang was well under way. I was tired and took an early night to bed.
October 15, 2000
Rainy day blues. Everyone left but me and Matty and we decided to spend the day in an internet cafe catching up with the world.
On the way home we took in dinner at a chinese restaurant for a change and met a Tom, age 53 and his son Christian just turning 21 of Jersey England.
it was a birthday celebration week touring Europe for the family. Tom, a 53 year old modern day mix between Arthur and Austin Powers. Successful in business (he wouldn't let us forget he was a multi-millionare)
and one of the liveliest and horniest men I ever met, squeezing waitresses asses and commenting on their boobs. He sure drew a crowd and paid everyone off he offended to keep them happy.
The night was spent all expenses paid, carrying on around town and bragging about business and women.
interesting perspective I thought. His son was surely 'proud'.
October 16, 2000
Today I took the 3 hour train to Naples. it broke down and took 6 hours.
October 17, 2000
Spent the day touring Capri island 1 hour off the Naples coast with a gang of Australian travelers from the hostel who all being friends from Melbourne (which I quickly learned to pronounce mel-bin), by a stroke of miracle somehow all ran into each other coming from different directions and headed in different directions in Naples.
Capri is a really nice island, reminding me alot of Catalina off the coast of Los Angeles.
We properly wandered aimlessly around the small island successfully seeing non of its major attractions but having a good time none the less.
I recommend renting a scooter first thing and leave the funicolar and busses to the rest of the crowd.
Sat down to a nice dinner of Seafood Risotto back in Naples.
October 18, 2000
Another day outside Naples with the Australians.
We took a quick train to explore the ruins of Pompei, a city at the base of Europe's only active volcano Vesuvius that was buried in ash some 2000 years ago.
Dusted off by archeologists and fenced in to make a buck. it is actually quite an impressive excavation and we spent the entire day wandering in and out of the recovered buildings.
The gang all took off in their own directions just as quickly as they had found each other, a touching moment.
Tomorrow I would like to actually check out Naples and then head back to Pompei to do some campong and explore the volcano.
October 19, 2000
When a hostel advertises free breakfast, don't be dissappointed when all you get is a roll and a dixie cup of tea to wash it down. This is something I am starting to get used to.
Just as well, when they say clean sheets, don't expect the matresses not to be infested with bed bugs.
Well, atleast they got hot water... nope, another cold shower. it is best not to really expect much of anything for $10 a night.
Checked out and dragged my gear to the station where I sat it in storage while I strolled through old town Naples.
Definately a dodgy town and terribly overcrowded (densest city in Europe), but at the same time interesting and with an air of excitement and energy.
Men and women in scooters, cars, and busses all weaving in and out of each others way within inches of death.
Driving machines they are, performing evasive maneuvers that would scare the Blue Angels.
I would guess they have a high driving fatality rate and can't imagine how most of them made it so long.
it is a shopping town, not big on sites. Found a few good deals on clothing and scored a suit and some sweaters and pants, all fitted within a half hour.
Satisfied that I had seen it all, I jumped on the 20 minute train to Pompei. An hour later I found myself sitting by the side of the track (train broke) talking to a Shannon of San Diego.
Shannon is an exchange student, taking 3 months of art history in Florence. On a long weekend, she decided to sight see the Amalfi coast. Maybe we will run into each other again.
2 hours later I step off the train in Pompei and setup camp. Tomorrow I tour Herculaneum, another buried town and then the mighty Volcano Vesuvius.
October 20, 2000
Well, if you've seen Pompei, Herculaneum is nothing special. I do recommend hiking Mt. Vesuvius however. No lava flows, only wisps of smoke, but with a great view of the Pompei gulf.
Amazing enough I ran into a few of the Australians in the station. They had just finished a day at the ruins and were headed back to Sorrento for the night. Together we went, checked into the only hostel in town and as usual met a new dozen or so travelers.
There is talk about renting scooters tomorrow and exploring the Almalfi coast in true italian style.
October 21, 2000
A most memorable day. A true biker gang, 9 of us in all, picked up our bikes by 10 and within 5 minutes had our first accident. One of the Aussie girls pulled out infront of an oncoming car and totalled the bike.
Lucky for her she survived with only a scratch in the arm, a dent in her pride, and the nickname 'roadkill'. She stayed behind with a friend to file the police reports as ofcourse it was 'no ones fault'.
With that traumatic event out of the way, the remaining 7 of us took off. We had the best time cruising the beautiful coastline stopping every few minutes for the inevitable kodak moment.
We toured Positano, the posh mountainside resort town where we stopped for lunch, a lay on the beach, and a swim.
Despite the early incident, everyone held high spirits and eventually earned nicknames, mine 'the Demon' for pushing the scooter limits.
After Positano, we continued on to Amalfi, a less inspiring town with a rather lame Blue Grotto.
Later in the evening, the gang took dinner at an excellent nearby pizzeria.
Chef Tua's Bolonaise Sauce
October 22, 2000
Another day relaxing on the Positano Beach and another evening of good food. This is getting addicting.
Too tired to move on and already 'checked out' of the hostel I decided to crash on an otherwise unoccupied bed in the room.
Well, it was unoccupied till 2am when the rightful owner (a sorry ass group of canadians) returned from the bars to claim it. Feeling pathetically righteous and almighty they woke me up and
kicked me out onto the street. Well, circumstance truely drives a wanderer to higher ground I thought, and after some searching time found a perfect spot on the roof.
Wow! Sleeping under the stars in what had to be the best spot in town I thought as the roof door slammed shut by the wind behind me. I turned around to find that the door knob was missing from the outside and the door
I was surely locked out on the roof 8 stories up. After some panic and futile attempts at icking the door with my swiss army knife I scoured the neighbooring apartments for an exit by cat walking between the rooftops.
To my luck, I found a second and unsecured door. Satisfied that I was no longer stranded, I returned to inflate my ThermaRest
and hit the sack. if only I had found this roof earlier I thought. I reckon the best way to see Naples and the Almalfi coast is by daytrip from this very spot.
October 23, 2000
Took an early morning train to Rome to meet up with Mom and friend DeDe for a couple of days.
Welcome to the Empire Palace 4 star hotel. Met them in the lobby at noon and joined the room.
Quite a step up from the hostels and the rooftops of the past. Complete with real hot water, breakfast, toiletpaper, and even bathroom slippers. A few days of this and I will be butter.
Traded my extraneous purchases to mom for a new MityLite sleeping bag (thanks Linley) and set out to show em round town.
After seeing all the major sites and putting up with a bunch of pissing and moaning about jet-lag and tired legs we returned for an early night.
October 24, 2000
More of the same. Took communion at St. Peters in the Vatican City. Less pissing and moaning.
October 25, 2000
Checked out the street markets in the morning and the Roman Forum in the afternoon, following which we checked out of the palace (god I will miss that place).
in a fit of indecision, I decided to continue on to Greece instead of following them to Florence, so I saw them off and spent the remainder of the evening waiting for the night train to Brindisi at Sofie's hostel.
Laundry, dinner, and carrying on while a fresh gang shared with me some tips on Greece and Egypt and saw me off with a beer. Budweiser, blah.
I just recieved word from team Patagonia-Alaska that their trip was a success! Check it out...
Team Patagonia-Alaska Success!
October 26, 2000
Sleeping on trains is no longer a problem for me, it is waking up that causes all the trouble. Lucky for me the train was one hour late into Brindisi, the changeover town for the ferry to Patras, Greece.
Met 2 guys, Eric Brewer and Mark Keesling both of Colorado also headed in the same direction and so together we scouted out some tickets.
Getting an honest deal on ferry tickets, supposedly included in the Eurail pass is like pulling teeth. After walking the main street twice and talking to 6 different agencies we were left with no less then 4 different and conflicting stories
(ferries not running, trip duration 18 hours, eurail no good) atleast we were a couple stories closer to the truth, which we luckily happened across.
Blue Star ferries at 11:30 is 9 hours to Patras and all for only 12,000 port tax with valid Eurail.
Tickets in hand we settled in to the Babylon day hostel for some food, internet, and rest. Eric, Mark, and I took a bus to the beach which was empty and littered with trash but otherwise pleasant after a few inspiring games of chess on my rollup board.
Back at the hostel we ran into Paul Constantine, a Texas Aggie and headed out to find a river of shit and eat our last supper in italy, the biggest 'gigante' pizza I have even seen.
Checked out of the hostel with a newly acquired Greece guidebook in hand and after a few hours of listening to a cruise line saxiphonist try to impress some touring girls with bragging talk about his lifelong accomplishments of music, cultural appreciation, and worldly adventure boarded the ferry to Greece.
Setup camp deck class.
October 27, 2000
Storm all night. I moved my bag 4 times to avoid the deck washout before giving up and moving to a spot on the hall floor inside. My new sleepingbag is excellent and had no problem keeping a comfortable temperature all night.
Greece
We pulled into Patras at 9 in an uninspiring overcast. Welcome to Greece, where the unit of currency is the Drachma and it trades at 400:1. With one shared guidebook, together we took the train to Olympia, home of the original Olympic games.
if I ever see a slower or older train in my life I will surely be amazed. Two coaches and an old gas engine complete with steam whistle, which the conductor assured us was getting good use. Toot-toot every 5 minutes along the entire 3 hour trip only 80 miles south. Evidently the bus is the transport of choice in Greece.
Checked into a hostel for $4 and spent the afternoon strolling. Olympia is a small and pleasant town with one main road that leads to its main attraction, the archeologic site and museum of the Olympic ruins.
Dinner time came and I thought it keen to fire up my WhisperLite stove for the first time in 4 months, rusting badly from the Baja coast. Big mistake! Damn near burned down the place trying to make pasta and surely upset the owners
wife who almost fainted when she saw the 3 foot yellow flame flare from the porch. These stoves are way too touchy. Tomorrow ill clean it out and try again.
October 28, 2000
Sunny day. Today is 'No' day, a national holiday celebrating the Greek saying no to Mussalini during the war. Entrance to the ruins and museum for free, bonus.
A field of rocks where once was furious competition. Actually it was interesting, and we saw the gynasium where they used to practice, the temple of Zeus, and even ran the original 600' track which turns out is alot longer then it looks at first.
Tomatoes, olives, and feta for lunch. Midday siesta. Spent the evening cleaning the rust from the stove and firing it up for another shot at pasta. Clean blue flame, nice.
Pepe of Costa Rica just wrote me with this story to share with you all...
Pepe's Adventures
October 29, 2000
Out of the hostel and on the train to Pyrgos on the way to Kalamata and eventually Sparta.
Enter Tariq, a self proclaimed crazy, outspoken, upfront, no bullshit, conflict loving Arab that goes in and out of Cornholio mode and never has nothing to say.
On a 2 month vacation from work as a polyester distribution expert, he shares similar Dilbertian work experiences as I and fought the system hard. Vibrant and easily triggered he is in the moment.
Well, the bus from Pyrgos leaves at 4 and we arrived at 11 giving us an afternoon of sitting and waiting. While Tariq and the gang talked religeon I checked my email.
Back on the bus. After 2 hours of wreckless driving and a luggage lost incident we made it to Kalamata. Too late to continue on to Sparta, we checked into a 'real hotel'. Hotel Diana, complete with tv and soap.
While the Colorado boys fired up their stove in the room, Tariq and I took off to a greek dinner. Needless to say the talk was lively and the food was excellent.
October 30, 2000
Travelling through Greece is no easy task. To get between Olympia and Sparta we took a total of 1 train and 3 busses for a total covered distance of under 100 miles.
Atleast the travel is cheap so long as you aren't in a hurry and keep a good attitude about it. After 2 days of travel we pulled into Sparta at noon.
Tariq continued on his way to another town and so we said our goodbyes. Well, museums are for the most part closed on Monday, so instead we jumped on another bus to the nearby town of Mystros.
Mystros is an old Bysantine castle town on a mountainside and is a real sight. Spent the afternoon hiking the mountain and exploring the ruins. Met a Renee Visser of Sydney, Australia who plans doing a safari in Africa.
From the mountain top we were lucky enough to witness a brilliant sunset and view of the surrounding countryside.
October 31, 2000
The Sparta museum sucks, but there was a statue out front that someone stuck a cigarette in its mouth and it kept me amused for awhile.
Took off to the bus station to check the schedule to Napflio and ran into Renee doing the same. Squeezed in lunch at Goodys and boarded the bus.
Nice drive through the mountains full of olive and citrus trees. Napflio and all of Greece I would reckon is desparate for tourist dollars this time of year, as on our way to the hostel we were accosted by a cripple man and then chased down the street by an old lady trying to sell us on her hotel.
Frantically and almost pathetically waving their arms and yelling 'Stay us... only 5,000... all three... stay us...'
We spent the evening climbing the 1000 steps to witness an even better view and sunset from the top of the Napflio castle.
Back at the hostel we ran into Tariq, imagine that.
November 1, 2000
Epidarus... At one time a sanctuary of healing and 'magic', today an amphiteater with with noteworthy acoustics (you can hear a coin dropped in the center from the highest level, that is if the crowds of tourists screaming wasn't enough) and a lame museum.
Out of the whole crowd of idiots we actully met one decent singer named Sarah from Canada who believe it or not had the crowds stop their noise making long enough to hear what talent brings.
Tariq bought new socks. He is so proud.
November 2, 2000
Eric and Mark, for reasons unknown to me decided a 7am bus to Tivas sounded like a good idea. Did someone say 7?
Well at 6am there I stand infront of the office door, closed and locked with no one even considering waking up to help me recover my passport.
Not even Eric and Mark, 'We're going to the station... We'll make sure they don't leave without you'... Yeah.
Swiss Army knife shoe lace puller to the rescue, I twisted and pulled at the eyebolt for 5 minutes before it finally gave way.
With passport in hand and feeling unstoppable I hurried my way to the station. 'How did you get it?' 'i broke in ofcourse, let's go'.
A day on the bus. First stop, Corinthos, a border town separating the Pellopenese from the mainland by man made canal.
Watched some big and small boats navigate the canal before changing busses to Tivas.
Tivas, let's just say it turned out to be less then they were hoping for. What were they hoping for? Later I found out this whole idea started because one of them heard mention of the town while watching 'The Lion King'.
With only two hotels in town, one booked and the other trying to charge $100 a night we decided to continue on to Athens.
The train to Athens was fast and free.
November 3, 2000
Spent the morning at the National Museum where besides being head stale from looking at statues, we ran into Tariq for the third time.
Tariq met us with a big grin on his face and as usual had plenty to say.
in one magnificent, sweeping, and seamless transition he went from stunned, to serious photographer, to woman hound, to prophet.
it would be interesting to follow him around with video and shoot a biography I thought, sure to amuse all with his slapshot antics and quirky sense of humor. Never a dull moment with Tariq, a classic for sure.
Spent all night on the internet catching up on things I have been putting off. Ahhh, reminded me of the late nights I put in at CMi.
November 4, 2000
This morning I had a bad case of the 'travelers blues'. I directly attributed this to a lack of real exercise, so I took off on an hour run through the park.
While jogging along I happened across a group of runners from Texas. Texas? What were they doing here I naturally thought.
Well, they informed me of the Marathon taking place tomorrow, appropriately between Marathon and Athens. Wow! The famous one I thought. I musta been riding high on endophins cause I seriously considered joining in on the 42km run, just for shits and giggles I thought.
Eventually and thankfully my body chemistry returned to normal and I realized how silly the whole idea was, so I toured the Plaka instead.
That run was definately what I needed and I felt great all day.
November 5, 2000
Every week on Sunday at 11 the full changing of the guards ceremony takes place infront of the parliament building.
A bunch of men in leotards carrying old guns and marching around like associates from the ministry of silly walks, lifting one knee high, extending their leg straight, wiggling their foot around, and then stomping it back down, a motion which takes some precise time between 3 and 4 seconds per step.
Needless to say it takes quite some time for the new guards to reach their post. Oh, and their shoes have pompoms on them. A rather strange tradition to say the least. You decide, honorable or just plain silly.
With that out of the way we set off to see the Acropolis.
On the way we sidetracked through the turkish flea market for a stop at Stavros Melissinos, the world famous poet/sandalmaker's stall, where he has sold his timeless sandals to the Beatles among other famous folk. Even with all this fame and fortune he still only charges $12 per pair and I walked outta there with 3. Yeah, maybe I got a little carried away.
Eventually we made it to the Acropolis (free entry on Sunday, which in my opinion is about all its worth). Something about scafolding, cranes, and cheap souvenir shops ruins the austerity of it all.
On our way back I lost $25 to a stupid card trick (they saw me coming from a mile away), and picked up some incense to help beat down the typical hostel foot odor stink.
As Eric and Mark are headed home on Tuesday I decided to give them a day of peace and save myself some dough by saying my goodbyes (done effectively by beating Mark in a few games of chess) and checking into a cheap hostel close to the train station.
'Ewww' you say, 'The dodgy part of town'. Yeah whatever, Athens ain't as much a hole as popular opinion has it and trust me I have seen much worse.
Spent the evening planning out my trip (ie. my first stop) through the Greek isles.
Hit the town for a late night in a Rembetika club where the local gater at 1am to drink and dance to the sounds of traditional and live Greek classics.
November 6, 2000
Outta bed by 7 to catch the 8am ferry to the island of Mykonos in the Cyclades. Wouldn't you know it, my Mexican Special sandals fell apart on the way. With 3 new pair in my bag I thought it a timely coincidence. With too little time to break into my stash I hopped my way aboard as the gates closed.
So here I sit in the 'Distinguished Class' lounge holding a 'Deck Class' ticket on this 6 hour tour.
Enter Petr Tucek, an architecture student of Czech. We decided to team up to find a place to stay. Off the boat an eager crowd awaited 'Stay with us 6000... us 5000...' when from the background we heard 'with me 2000'. 'Oh boy' we thought, 'What a deal'. Jumped in the van and off we went when half way to the place the lady casually says ' Oh I was joking about the price, I charge 6000 too'
'No thanks' and out on the street we went in search of another place. Nothing, this town is beat. Fueled by a souvlaki or two we kept at it. Eventually we happened across 'The Peking Palace', an abandoned summer time hotel with an out of the open deck where we spent the night fending off mosquitos.
November 7, 2000
Out of bed and on the road for an hour jog across the island to Choros beach and back followed by a bath in the ocean. Damn cold is all I have to say.
Spent the afternoon on the island of Delos. To an archeologist, the grandest of all sites in Greece; to me, a big pile of rocks. This history stuff just doesn't get me.
Well, I climbed the biggest rock I could find and sat back and ate lunch while enjoying an incredible view of the surrounding islands.
On the ferry back to Mykonos I met a group of Marathon runners including a Heidi Howell of Santa Barbara and Karin McClune of Troy, small world.
Petr took off for Santorini and I happened across Hazel Hurtak of Canada who introduced me to the wonderful world of scooter rental.
$7 later and with sleeping back in store, I was off on a 24 hour stint of the island. Wind in the hair, life is good.
Beautiful views and no tourists, this I would say is the best time to be here. Soon enough darkness found me and I found myself a vacant lot with a house under construction where I climbed to the roof to setup camp. More mosquitos.
November 8, 2000
Quite a day! Up with the sunrise and not a minute too late as I packed out and narrowly avoided discovery by the construction crew.
More touring, eventually making my way Paradise Beach where I took a bath and a swim and spent the afternoon trying to get rid of some tan lines.
Apparently this made some fat mans day as later I noticed him retreat into a 'shaking bush'.
On my way out, I was chased by a very large and hungry german shepard that broke his chain, leading me straight up a 5 foot wall with only minor injury.
There I sat for 5 minutes looking down on a mighty pool of saliva and sharp teeth. After 5 minutes of barking the dog lost interest and wandered off.
Back on the bike and back to the port in time for the ferry to Syros. Well, at least in theory I was in time, but since the bike rental man was out on a siesta and my passport was locked up in his office I missed the boat by not more then 30 seconds.
So here I sit on the lonely pier where try as they might minnows cannot eat potatoe chips.
Went for a nice dinner of Moussaka, kinda like a potatoe, eggplant, beef, and cream version of lasagna where I once again ran into Hazel.
Eventually I made my way back to the port where Lupe Algorta, Sole Martinez, & Clara Boully of Buenos Aires, Argentina sit wondering if they would ever get to leave the island.
We passed the time until the next ferry arrived talking about travel. The 1 hour trip to Syros was uneventful and off the boat I was met by another eager hotel crowd.
Deciding that a real shit shower and shave was in order, I jumped on the back of a scooter and settled into a room for the night.
November 9, 2000
I like Syros. Definately not a tourist town, but a real town with real people living real lives. Unlike Mykonos which turns ghost town this time of year, Syros has a purpose not entirely devoted to the lonely planet.
Spent the day just walking around, passing through a lively market where you can get a bag of fruit for a quarter and a smile, quaint side streets where laundry hangs from the balconies, kids play ball, and stray cats roam, and card room bars where old men drink ouzo and throw cards around showing expression that is at the same time full of furry and delight.
Today I was lucky enough to run into Gunter & Karin Maisch of Stuttgart, Germany travelling the world in a 40' sailboat that they spent the last 9 months restoring.
Their story? Not much different then mine and perhaps not much different then most. Many years in 'the factory' until one day things change and the inevitable questions begin.
'Bullshits' he says, and 'You guys have some meetings and I am going to buy a boat and sail the world!' And from the youthful glow that radiates from their faces, I can see they could have never made a better choice.
Not to say things aren't always smooth sailing but they are following their dreams and it all seems pretty admirable.
Together we took diner and we talked and talked about everything from carbide tooling to paragliding in the Alps and from trends in language to peculiarities ofthe Linux Kernal, for sure they are interesting folk.
Gathered my gear and jumped on the 11pm ferry to Naxos. Setup camp on a deserted beach.
November 10, 2000
No mosquitos! I slept like a rock. Took a walk through the old town, just as empty as Mykonos, and decided to rent a scooter for 2 days to see the island, the biggest of the Cyclades.
Naxos is mostly mountains, similar in style to those of Santa Barbara. Otherwise it is mostly scattered summer home towns of a few dozen houses separated by a few locals sheparding goats around.
Every now and then I would stop for a few hours and just lay back on some rocks and listen to their bells ring like wind chimes in the distance.
Camped the night in Apollonos.
November 11, 2000
More of the same. Visited the Naxos Citron distillery. Citron is an alcohol produced by grape, and flavored by boiling the leaf of the Citron tree. it taste alot like lemon but is a bit more bitter.
Supposedly Naxos is one of the only remaining producers of Citron in the world.
Took a nap and lunch at the base of Mt. Zeus, at 1000m it forms the highest peak on the island. Olives, feta, tomatoes, and ofcourse Citron and Sprite, a very nice combination.
By nightfall I made my way to the beautiful white sand beaches of Plaka and Ag. Anna. Another mosquito night.
November 12, 2000
Returned the bike early to avoid a repeat missed ferry performance and spent the afternoon resting in the sun, while waiting for the ferry on its way from Syros and headed to Santorini.
On the ferry I met a couple Adriana and Sebastian of Columbia. We decided to group up in finding a place in Santorini. They are learning english and had me proof-read their journal for the day which is basically the same as mine so here goes...
'We took a ferry at 11am. it was a new ferry, faster than others. On the way we met a guy called 'Zaheer Ahmed' from USA but born in Pakistan. Then on a stop of the ferry on Naxos another backpacker took the ferry, this is easy to notice because there isn't too many people travelling now.
We went with them to Santorini and we stayed in the same hotel. in the afternoon we ate together in the worst restaurant i've eaten. Everything on the table was disgusting, I don't like to say that about food but is true.
Everything was like re-fried, the chicken was dry, the fish too, and the beef was very oily. We complain about the food with the waiter and he said the food was ok, but afterwards he brought us a half chicken.
But also we couldn't eat it, it was bad too. Daryl (the guy who took the ship in Naxos) was sick the whole night and even the day after. That night we walked a bit through the town and then we played cards all together.
During the night we couldn't sleep very well because of the mosquitos in our room. it was so uncomfortable that one time Adry just turn the light on and she sat on the bed trying to kill the mosquitos. Obviously she couldn't.
in that moment it wasn't funny but the next morning it really was to remember her behavior.'
November 13, 2000
Santorini is the fat cat of juicy bones. I don't know what that means but it came to me while walking along the houses perched up high on the crater which makes up the western coast of this volcanic heap of an island.
Supposedly, when the oceans filled in and separated asia from the better part of europe and angry volcano pushed through with an eruption that threw ash some 6 miles into the air and produced a tsunami some 600 feet high taking out the Minoan civilization.
it devastated everything for miles around, and some say including the lost city of Atlantis. The result, Santorini, black sand beaches, lava rock cliffs and all.
it is a beautiful island, far nicer then any of the others I have been to. Anyways, while the others decided to pay $10 for a ferry to explore the volcanic core and some nearby hotsprings, I just took a walk. Very long and peaceful.
Took alot of pictures, but compared to the real thing they sucked so I erased most of them.
Later in the evening we fired up my stove on .10 fueland for $2 each Zaheer whipped up a killer Chicken Curry and Basmati rice dinner. The stove worked great and it all went over really well.
With visions of sugar plums already dancing in his head, Zaheer already has tomorrows breakfast, lunch, and dinner planned out; he is a real character.
Spent the evening playing cards and teaching the gang hearts which they really enjoyed. Tomorrow we plan on renting some vehicles and hitting a few beaches.
Zaheer's Masterpiece Feast
November 14, 2000
Sure enough we rented scooters. Some ancient ruins, a red sand beach, and a missed sunset. Too tired to get food fancy, we took in a classic Greek dinner at whereother then 'Nikos Taverna'.
Stuffed tomatoes, peppers, fried cheese, and Mythos beer.
November 15, 2000
Everyone left at the crack of dawn for somewhere else. I decided to stay an extra day and see things my way, besides I don't exactly know where I am heading.
Well what started as maybe a bus to he beach undoubtidly turned into another scooter day. Sigred, a girl from NY and I covered more ruins, more beaches, and this time actually caught the magnificent sunset.
Took in dinner with Paul and Yvette of Sydney, Australia and this guy actually toured Troy, NY. Why would anyone do that is all I could think.
Saved from a night wrestling with mosquitos they invited me to the extra bed in their room.
November 16, 2000
Legend has it that I can still make my way to Turkey through Crete and Rhodos. Atleast up until 3 today when the last ferry of the season sets sail.
With plenty of time on my hands I decided to hike the 10k stretch to the port. One tired ass, two pb&j's, and 3 hours later I made it. it is amazing how heavy 4 pair of sandals, 3 bottles of Citron, and a half dozen bars or soap can feel.
Needless to say I put in some good rest on the 4 hour ferry to Crete. Checked into the hostel and lights out.
November 17, 2000
The port town of Iraklio is just a busy city. Not so bad but nothing special. Checked out the Knossos Palace. Why? Because that's what everyone here does and I checked the ferry schedule to Rhodos. Twice a week, tomorrow and tuesday. Thinking it senseless to leave tomorrow I jumped on a bus to Hania, Crete's second largest city and the stop off for a trek into the Samaria Gorge.
To make this discussion simple, lets just say I eventually got there. To make my day, lets just say the gorge is closed. Don't ask me, according to the lady in iraklio it was open and just to think you could close something liuke a gorge boggles me so whatever.
Spent the evening searching for a place to stay and ran into an Australian touring by Beemer. We split a room.
We talked quite a bit about the experiences of travel and work (seemingly a popular topic among travelers) and he read me some exerpts from his journal. Very well written and introspective.
November 18, 2000
Today I just walked around Hania. Crete is full of venetian fortresses and this town is exceptionally blessed. if you only have a few days in Crete I reckon you skip iraklio and go traight to Hania.
Set back a pb&j next to their classic lighthouse, strolled the market, and climbed a fortress or two.
The old town is pretty much resigned to tourism, but just outside the walls there is a real thing going on and it was refreshing to see. Fly swatters for sale, old ladies hocking luggies, and among other things chickens in cages.
I am definately tiring of the Disneyland travel that my European tour has offered so far.
I mean I guess I kinda expected this but the effects are really starting to wear in. it is all just so proper and orderly and easy and typical and sometimes it just bores the hell out of me.
in the place of true adventure, I make for myself this artificial variety, and it ain't much different then camping in my own backyard.
For a change of pace I decided to dig into 'the outback' and hopped on a bus to the Lassithi Plateau.
November 19, 2000
Looking across the plateau in the early morning is at first breathtaking. A blanket of clouds cover the ground hiding the dozen or so villages that make up the perifery of the plateau.
in the heart of it all, thousands of windmills erected to pump the water needed for the farming of the land from a spring deep under ground. Tired of lugging my gear around, I hid it behind a tree and set across the land by foot.
Being the only tourist during this time of year in the plateau, I became the main attraction to the locals, a role reversal. As I passed through village after village groups of old men and women would just stop what they were doing and just sit and stare. The traditional way of life is very much preserved here.
in Psyrho I explored the Dikteon Cave complete with stalagtites, where legend has it Zeus was hidden from his offspring gobbling father. Afterwards a walk through the heart of the plateau.
I must have looked tired as along the way a local farmer returning from a day of harvesting offered me a ride. Regardless of how obvious it must have been to him that I had no clue what he was saying, he talked and talked the whole way to Tzermiado where I got out to eat a late lunch in a local tavern.
There I sat for 2 hours just observing the local crowd. Taziki faced children swinging their legs and stuffing their mouths full of gyros and fanta while the parents socialized over a sovlaki and the local wine.
All very spirited and I could tell that an eatout like this was surely a real treat to them.
Eventually I hiked the 2 hours back to my gear and found a secluded clearing to setup my tent.
So here I lay, maglite hanging overhead and swinging from the force of the winds on the tent that are steadily progressing, happy to be out of the city and away from the tourists.
There is still so much I would like to write but my mind is scattered and tired.
November 20, 2000
Believe it or not after nearly a month here I finally learned my first 4 greek words. Yasis (hello), kalimera (goodmorning), andio (goodbye), and efharisto (thankyou) in response to meeting my first non-english speaking Greeks on another stroll through the villages.
Why has it taken me so long? Good question. To dig deeper into the local life I decided to just take a seat for some time and see what develops of their curiosity for me. A few curious stares at first and within 5 minutes a flock of questions I couldn't understand.
How stupid did I feel. if you want to get the most out of extended travel, learning the language is a must. After the failed attempts at reciprocation, they lost interest and continued on their way. A tractor, an old couple chainsawing some wood, and every now and again someone tugging along a goat.
I see no children, only old men and women walking more or less in circles and converging into groups every now and then to exchange a few words and move on. How long can a village like this survive I wonder. I guess this sort of lifestyle doesn't take much to sustain.
Back on my feet and a few villages down the road I run across what finally appears to be real work, a family making ouzo, a liquor of grape skins and vines.
Within minutes I am assimilated into their operation. Walnuts, raisins, potatoes, olives, and shot after shot of the firey beverage all on a smile. I break out the camera for a shot or two and the excitement builds.
Photos are something they don't see much of in these parts and in return for their hospitality I offer to take family portraits and mail copies. This couldn't have made them happier.
After a few hours of photos and cheers they let me on my way with a bottle of that crude potion dangling from my pack. Not so far, they stopped me once more to stuff me full of lunch. Eggs and a salad.
'All...All...' they would say whenever I began to look full, oh and full I am and god willing not sick.
And now here sits my 'translator'. He knows not a word of english but everyone in town thinks he does. With snot hanging from his nose he does his best to negotiate the conversation. I do my best not to look disgusted and pretend to understand in protection of his dignity.
Ah, the kids return from school. Maybe there is hope. They want me to stay the night. The last ferry out leaves tomorrow. Just as things get interesting travel interferes.
Off to the bus station. 'No bus today' and panic sets in. Step after step and through chickens and dogs I cover the 45k to the port town of Agios Nikolaos. Ok so I lucked into a ride after the first 2k in the back of a Toyota pickup full of potatoes.
Safe and sound in Nikolaos, a pretty town where english is once again understood and the people aren't so quick to make friends. Oh, and yes the ferry does leave tomorrow morning at 7:30 for Rhodos.
November 21, 2000
A 12 hour ferry to Rhodos, where a group of us gather to invade the only hostel in town.
November 22, 2000
At 9am I begin my journey for breakfast. A bar of chocolate, some yogurt, and a bag of oranges. The juicer I got in Olympia for .50 has really paid off as I use it to make fresh OJ just about every chance I get.
After breakfast a gang forms to explore town. Liz & Marie of England and Svein of Norway.
Rhodos, seemingly like all the islands, is a medieval fortress town and its streets a tangled web of narrow alleys and piazzas, just like Venice but without the canals.
We walked a bit, lost the girls, returned for lunch and a shit followed appropriately enough by a frank discussion about foreign toilet protocol and the unstable failure modes of the seatless comode and headed out once again to eventually run into the girls.
Hungry from such a strenuous day we headed out to dinner where I had the greek favorite octopus for the first time. Octopus is actually pretty good. A flavorful mix of lobster and crab but with the texture of shrimp.
Deciding that it wasn't worth spending 1000dr to sit in the 'famous square' and relax with a drink, we got a cheap bottle of wine and did our relaxing back at the homestead.
A night of lively talk about the past present and future of the world, covering everything from the piecewise american destruction of the otherwise perfect italian pizza to what really is a vegetarian and why are the chinese going to rule the world sometime within the next 30 years.
November 23, 2000
Today couldn't have been more productive as I found a small leather shop in town to repair my mexican special sandals for free, thus fulfilling my MBO's for this month.
After 3 hours and 4 travel agents with 4 stories I finally converged on what sounds like a stable ferry schedule. The 'secret' ship to Turkey leaves tomorrow at 2.
More wandering about and by 1 the gang was up and about and well on their way to recovery from the party of last night.
'A rental car... Yeah, that's what we'll do' A Fiat Cinquecentro (a car that would never succeed in the states) for 24 hours and $20.
Down the East coast to Lindos for he remainder of the day. More fortresses, small streets, white washed houses, and sandy beaches. in a noble attempt to circle the island on our return trip we got properly lost, and lucky for us as we ended up somewhere deep in the moutains and away from the city lights where we enjoyed some excellent star gazing.
Average distance covered? 7k per hour.
Back at the ranch Marie whipped up a mighty pasta.
November 24, 2000
Taking full advantage of our rental, we got up early and out, this time down the West coast toward Monolithos.
There are only a few times I have feared for my life, and being in the car with Svein behind the wheel will surely be remembered as one of those times.
Turkey
Slamming on the breaks and locking up the wheels for fun we slid our way to see a few castles and ruins before returning to catch the ferry to Marmaris, Turkey.
16,000dr for the ticket, let the games begin. Back in the world of chaotic border crossings.
With ticket in hand I arrive at the unmarked office at the port. 'You must wait' So I do. I say my goodbyes to the gang and wait. Eventually word of mouth has it that they are ready and the crowd scurries through 'passport control'.
'Boarding pass and passport please' I hand over my ticket and passport. I get an evil eye. 'Not ticket... Boarding pass' the officer huffs.
A shudder is heard through the line as no one has been given a boarding pass. 'Uh, pass, huh?' 'Stand over there' 10 minutes later unofficial #1 speaks up 'Your boarding passes are waiting outside'
where we find unofficial #2 holding a stack of yellow cards. '3,000dr port tax please' tickets and cash are exchanged for the precious and limited cards. Back through 'passport control' who are now happy with the cards but unhappy with the fact that no one has a
corresponding entry visa in their passport. As there was no post entering Greece, you tell me. After a suitable head shaking time has passed they issue the stamp.
On to the Turkish boat, appropriately termed boat as ferry implies large and this thing could hardly float a good sized tuna. I hand over the boarding card which is returned with a confused look.
'Ticket please' After convincing the man our tickets were exchanged for these silly cards he finally lets us board at the additional cost of dropping our passports into a plastic grocery bag laying on the ground.
This happens to 30 people everyday. Doesn't anyone get tired of these games? in a seasick inducing motion the boat slowly rocks its way out and into the deep blue.
After 30 minutes unofficial #3 comes around gladly returning our passports for another 4,000dr turkish port tax. The view entering Marmaris is stunning.
Off the boat and through customs where another 30 minutes is spent buying the $45 entry visa and getting 'the stamps'.
Welcome to Turkey, where the Lira is the unit of currency and it trades at 700,000 to 1. Most prices therefore are in the millions and it can be quite a shocker.
November 25, 2000
It is amazing how an entire day can turn to shit when you sit down to a computer that doesn't work and you are determined to get something done. Over xmas I gotta research a better way to handle this update stuff.
To compound the misery, my stocks have taken a dive.
November 26, 2000
It is possible that the solar showers here rank lower then the electric showers of central america, especially on a rainy day like today.
A day I wouldn't have minded so much wasted in an internet cafe. It is all about timing.
Spent the afternoon learning about Turkish carpets. Materials and dyes, synthetic verses natural. I really had no intention of buying one but the eager shopkeeper was convinced I did.
Cleverly mixing small talk with sale and throwing a chai (tea) at me every now and again. Over the course of a few hours what started at $900 knocked down to $450 and again to $250 and again to $200.
He just wouldn't take 'no, I don't want a carpet' for an answer and thankfully at $150 including shipping he gave up and shifted the atttention to a smaller carpet. I left.
Had it in my mind to take a bus to Dalyan but arrived to late in Otalya in the rain with no local dolmus (minivan transport) running and no reasonable accomodations and decided to hop back on the bus to Fethiye where I checked into a pension for $4.
A very cold, windy, and rainy night. They say it could continue for 3 days.
Tomorrow begins the Muslamic month long fasting of Ramadan.
November 27, 2000
What started as a beautiful day quickly worked its way back to rain.
A day of relaxation from the stresses I've been through over the last 2 days.
A quality $3 shampoo, haircut, shave, and massage, and a few nice Doner Yerim Ekmeks and baklava for lunch,
where I quickly became a star of the commercial they were filming. Just to think that Turks for generations will think of me as the doner man, king of the kebap.
Hey, isn't this supposed to be Ramadan? It sure hasn't slowed down this crowd.
What to do on a rainy day? My first Turkish bath. Sauna, scrub, rinse, soap, massage, rinse, and a tea for $10.
A real letdown. The sauna was luke warm, the scrub brief, the soap in my eyes and nose, and the massage poorer then the one that came with my haircut.
Just about the only good thing was that I happened during dinner and they fed me spicey lamb, dolmas, and some sesame oil and sugar cake.
I also turned around a few tourists on their way in, saving them the dissappointment.
Afterwards I stumbled into a gaming parlour where the locals gathered to see who could slam down their rummy tiles to the table the hardest.
I drank some tea and tried a few rounds but didn't quite catch on as every time I would slam a tile down I would knock a few on the floor. They weren't impressed.
Hiked the mountain to see the famous pigeon hole tombs and catch a great view of the city and port between lightening flashes.
Major downpour.
November 28, 2000
Rain rain go away...
The village women can get a bit rowdy during Ramadan as I was sexually harassed by a group of the chain smoking rug wearers in a dolmus on my way to the otogar.
A 5 minute trip where all I heard was 'SEXY '. Maybe the haircut?
I had planned to see Oldeniz during the day but the bus was delayed for a half hour giving me plenty of time to be sidetracked.
During a search for food I ran into a local fixing his motorbike and after 10 minutes of talk found myself hanging from the back gear and all on a wreckless trajectory through town to the grade school snack shack where he works.
There I spent the day avoiding the intermittent rain, drinking tea, eating sandwiches, taste testing their latest treats, and providing them entertainment between the student feeding frenzies.
I tried to get a few shots but the lighting was poor and all I got was a blur.
Back on the street and back at the otogar (bus station) this time fixed on Antalya.
I recommend you use the toilet before boarding a bus in Turkey no matter what the conductor says about rest stops.
It snowed during the 3 hour trip and I thought about calling Turkey short and heading straight toward Egypt.
Dropped off in the rain in the seedy part of town with a power failure and no lights. Wandered the streets and ran into one friendly and helpful soul who after the lights came back 'guided me' to the neighboring pension and turned lunatic and demanded a fee. I gave him $1.
November 29, 2000
I finally broke down and bought an umbrella, ofcourse not before already soaking everything I own. After a year of this sort of abuse my shoes and socks are finally starting to give in.
There isn't much to see in Antalya in the rain. An old town, a port of ships, ofcourse a statue of Ataturk, a mosque or two and numerous typical shops lining the cosmopolitan city streets.
With internet costing only .70 an hour and being relatively fast I spent a few hours online and out of the cold.
Had a nice lunch of kebaps, strolled the market, and watched a few old men get free haircuts as part of a 1.95 does it all comb demonstration.
On my second loop of the city I stopped in a hole in the wall bar for a drink and spent the evening talking to the locals and wondering why (inline with the rest of the world) they still listen to Bon Jovi.
Caught the 9:30 overnight bus to Goreme in Cappadocio, a ticket I bargained down from 10 million to 6.
November 30, 2000
The bus pulled into Goreme at 8 and based on the incredible views entering the Cappadocio valley I knew I was in for a real treat.
The most spectacular sight in all of Turkey. Entire valleys of eroded volcanic stone carved into churches, homes, and even entire cities both above and beneath the ground.
It all looks like something out of a movie and indeed some scenes from Star Wars were filmed here.
After aimless wandering with my gear for an hour trying to shave a buck off the accomodations, I finally reached the 'perfect room', an empty dorm room in a fairy chimney cave carved from stone for $3 with laundry service.
I have learned that 6 days is about the longest I can wear a pair of clothes for before they start really bothering me.
Perfect, I thought. A 2 hour nap, I pick up my clean clothes, and off to explore the valleys.
Not so fast... When I woke my clothes (*ALL of my clothes) were hanging from a line dripping wet. On an overcast and near zero day? I didn't ask, but borrowed a pair of jeans, dawned my windbreaker and sandals and headed out, freezing but determined not to waste the day.
Picked myself up a 'locals only' style wool hat and after a bit of walking warmed right up.
This place is beyond a doubt breathtaking. Amazing, incredible. I found myself lost in its natural beauty and intrigued until well after sunset, returning home on the verge of hypothermia.
Warmed up with a tea and a bowl of lentil soup. Tomorrow I would like to take one of the 'all day' tours advertised around.
December 1, 2000
25 days till xmas.
Very happy to crawl out from under my rock to find a beautiful and sunny day. Blue skies and a couple happy clouds.
My clothes? Still hanging and still wet. Took a tour and saw a bit of everything: pigeon valley, an underground city, the sight of Star Wars,
a big gorge, a camel stop on the silk road (the 9000k camel trail between Spain and China), and a beautiful sunset all in good company.
Expensive at $20 for the day including meals but worth it as I didn't have to think about anything but just relax and enjoy the sights.
Back in town I was invited into a real Ramadan feasting. Plate after plate of odd but tasty food with a couple of very hungry and religeously hard Turks. The best meal so far with ofcourse baklava and tea to finish it off.
A very nice and memorable day. Tomorrow maybe rent a scoot and return to spend some time at some of the sights we flew through today.
December 2, 2000
Thinking to save money and get in shape I rented a bicycle and sure enough spent most of the day on long uphill roads to nowhere. Lots of beautiful scenery and kodak moments.
Returned and ready to continue on with a bagfull of still wet clothes I boarded the overnight bus to Istanbul.
Riding the back seat of a bus through the 'Turkish Siberia' with a broken heater and seats that don't recline and ofcourse the token crying baby is not the best way to get a good nights rest and infact I didn't. Not a second. It was a long 12 hours.
December 3, 2000
Welcome to Istanbul. Once again back in the world of busy-ness. Two overpriced metros and a short hike later I checked into an overpriced hostel in Sultanamet (the cultural heart of town) and hit the bed.
By noon I was up and about and in full wander mode.
Istanbul sprouts mosques like Berlin sprouts cranes and for sure it is at an energetic peak during Ramadan when people from all over Turkey converge on the city to wash their hands and faces, take off their shoes, and bow down to Allah five or more times a day.
Kinda a muslim Christmas party and with all the kooks moving about definately bazaar.
Which leads to my second topic, bazaars and carpet shops. Everywhere you turn your either coaxed into a discussion about a carpet you never intend to buy or are hit with a kilo of dates, a dozen pair of socks, a few sweaters and throw in a bazouki all for $5.
And why not cause it is all such a deal? An american coupon cutting garage sale and flea marketers' paradise. In all a truely fascinating place.
A day of this street circus and a night of a real circus. Carnival rides, music, tea shops, and even a bucking bronco fill Sultanamet park, providing the much needed sillyness and entertainment after a hard day of fasting and prayer.
December 4, 2000
More bazaars, mosques, and kebaps followed by a typical hostel evening of world philosophy.
December 5, 2000
The Grand Bazaar. More like a tourist shopping mall then a real bazaar, dissappointing to say the least.
Turkish bath number 2. $5 for absolutely nothing. I mean I actually laid there for an hour wondering when the washer person would show up, very dissappointing.
Another evening of hostel chit chat. No adventure here.
I bought my return ticket home for xmas today, scheduled to leave Istanbul on December 19th and return on January 20th for the low price of $675.
Until then I plan on checking out Bulgaria and perhaps Romania saving the Middle East, Egypt, and Africa for when I return.
December 6, 2000
The aimless wanderings continue. Me and the gang took in cinema at night. 'Snatch' by the director of 'Lock, Stock, and Barrel'.
Essentially the same story, or should I say stories as it tried to illustrate 6 stories in parallel of 6 gangs trying to get at a stolen diamond.
Basically alot of flashy MTVesk camera work and hard to understand 'British' english (even the British audience couldn't comprehend).
My thoughts... If you seen the one you seen em all. Skip it.
Bulgaria
December 7, 2000
Went to check out the sultan's palace and harem before boarding the bus to Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Lots of gold and jewels, silly outfits, and hedonistic behavior. I even got to see a hair from the prophet Muhammed's beard and his foot, lovely.
The bus was kinda haphazard and seeing that I was the only one heading to Plovdiv, they figured close is good enough.
They dropped me off at a roadside diner somewhere in the middle of Bulgaria at 2am without a strotchinki (dime) and without a clue.
A crazy Bulgarian walks over to me bearing a magic markered swastika on his forehead waving his arms around in a salute, talking German, and trying to act funny.
I guess he thought I was German, as all the items in the menu were listed in Deutsch Marks, and figured I would get a real charge out of it. I just ignored the sad idiot.
Welcome to Bulgaria, where the leva is the unit of currency and in the last two years they removed a few zeros making the exchange rate 2.2:1 (something Turkey oughtta consider) and printed up some slick new bills.
Eventually I caught another bus passing through actually intending to reach Plovdiv.
December 8, 2000
A rough night. Arriving into town after 3am with no place to stay I ended up unpacking my Thermarest and crashing in some back alley on the street. Very cold and sick, with a rapid onset of a stomach flu and nausea similar to that of Nicaragua.
'Great...' I thought 'another month of antibiotics'. I somehow managed to shiver myself to sleep for 2 hours.
In the morning I packed up and set out to look for cash and a place to stay.
After an aimless walk around I happened into an accomodation agency and social services office where Marion, a scottish lady who moved here 3 years ago to 'get away from it all' and Galia, her Bulgarian translator/psychologist/assistant booked me a private room for $8.
Galia, heading out to observe an agency organized highschool basketball tournament invited me along.
An evening of dinner and strolling around the 'old town'.
The BMW riding Ben Wilmut shares with us some insight from his travel journal...
Ben Wilmut's Insight
December 9-12, 2000
Well Galia and I spent a bit more time together, and the one day I originally had planned on spending in Plovdiv expanded quickly.
After two days in the cat littered private home of an old lady who was convinced I spoke German, Marion invited me to stay in a guest room of her apartment.
'Well, what happened over the past four days?' you ask...
To the best of my memory, I spent a day at a nearby monestary, a day of fashion shopping (black on black is the 'style' here), and a day or two of just plain lounging around in 'the office' with the social service gang observing their antics.
I haven't taken many photos or kept track of what has been going on, but just as well I am having a good time and am experiencing a closeness with the Bulgarian culture that I would have otherwise missed out on.
A break which I surely have needed. I am not sure how much longer I will be staying here or even how long my invitation will last but I am starting to itch to move on and see more of the country before returning home.
A deeper look at the gang...
Marion - lost and lonely. Confused about where she is and where she is going.
After contributing to a car accident that cost a young girl's life in Scotland, she alienated herself from friends and family and moved to Bulgaria on a whim to 'start anew'.
Faced with a new and radically different culture and language she found the transition tough but eventually settled in to form the social services organization that she has been struggling with ever since.
A real fighter, she stuck in there and somehow managed to learn the language.
A real conversational hoot, convinced that everyone is out to get her and using her.
Has contemplated suicide and holds a high respect for those who have, saying it takes a strong soul to commit yourself to something so true to feelings. I only hope her soul is not so strong...
A brute insecurity coupled with lots of stories and a great sense of humour which she unfortunately aims at herself. A self proclaimed 'fat and ugly bitch'.
I don't think so... I see her as a beautiful and sweet lady in search of respect stuck in Bulgaria, a country where respect is hard to come by.
She talks about returning to Scotland and her horses which she loves dearly and sweeping the rats outta her flat and getting back intouch with her roots.
A good idea I think.
Galia - 33, introverted and uninspired. Married at 22 and divorced with a 10 year old. Still living with her ex, a man who she left once he 'fell in love with another'.
Why is she living with him? Simple economics. Life is not so sweet for a child psychologist in Bulgaria.
A smart and thoughtful girl, motivated most by her work with the homeless in the area and otherwise terribly within herself.
A little spacey, she likes to drive in reverse more then forward and never looks back, not to mention the car never leaves third gear even at a stop.
According to Marion, a true Bulgarian helplessly throwing herself on the man of her desires and too self-fullfilling to admit or apologize for her wrongs.
Another sweetheart disturbed by what she calls 'the system', a system she fiercely despises.
December 13-16, 2000
I really don't know where all the time has gone.Galia reaffirmed my belief that Bulgarians can't drive by putting her car in reverse (as usual) and w/o looking (as usual) backed into a tree on the highway divider doing 20 mph.
Luckily no one was hurt. I am still unclear as to what instigated this action but prefer to think it aggrivation in response to her car being broken into earlier in the day and her rush to get us to a movie that we had already missed by 2 hours.
Yes, a good day indeed. We did make up for it by catching the flick the next day. 'What Lies Beneath', a really shitty suspense thriller.
It was more of a plotless horror show about a couple who moved into a spooky ghost house and the husband turned out to be the killer. Dumb. Skip it and save yourself the depression.
Oh yeah, we took a day or so in Sofia (the highest city in Europe and the capital of Bulgaria), probably a real nice city had it not been raining.
The only city I have seen with a yellow brick road and a skaters half-pipe setup in the center. Some nice churches and mosques, a bad restaurant and a good one.
We spent the night at a friends house on the outskirts of town.
December 17, 2000
Well eventually the fun must come to an end and today I must return to Istanbul in preparation for my flight home.
A day of looking around town for the best transport concluded by the realization that there really were no options to begin with.
Take the $20 overnight bus or nothing. I said my goodbyes and hopped aboard. I am surely going to miss this gang.
A 5 hour ride that took 9 hours pretty much sums it up. A 1 hour dinner break 15 minutes into the trip and 3 hours sitting at the border crossing.
Arrived at the Istanbul otogar at 4:30am, an hour before the metro woke up and I found a secluded corner in the station to lay and try and catchup on lost sleep.
By 6am I made my way to the hostel and agitated by all the night's troubles laid in bed awake until sunrise.
So what has Berlin boy Mark Dineen been up to over the past few weeks you ask? Check it out...
Mark Dineen shakes up Mexico
December 18, 2000
A beautiful day! Realizing my bag wasn't heavy enough to return home with, I found myself a bazaar and managed to negotiate enough sweaters and Turkish delight to consider the trip a success.
Back at the hostel I ran into a Japanese dude that I met passing through the Plovdiv accomodation agency.
He was headed out to a talk on Turkish music history being held at a local university. I decided to join him.
A long talk to say the least. It probably woulda been good if we understood Turkish, but then again maybe not as half way through it they had to interrupt the talk to wake a sleeping local whose snoring was in competition with the phonograph.
A few drinks back at the ranch and then off to the airport, Ataturk ofcourse.
Where the passengers scientifically position themselves in the loneliest possible configuration given the space and seating constraints of the lobby while waiting on the 6am flight to Amsterdam.
I am on my second day without sleep.
December 19, 2000
An uneventful flight home.
Actually they did loose my luggage and the flights were all either delayed or cancelled, so maybe it wasn't so uneventful after all.
All I really remember is the baby crying and the beautiful view from my window seat.
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