|The stories that travelers tell non-travelers (or at least those not currently traveling) involve the things that have been seen and done in a place: hiking to old Venician mills, visiting hillside tropical monasteries, exploring beachside caves, or watching amazing sunsets. The stories that pass between travelers on the road, however, sometimes skew a little bit more towards the ordinary and mundane, about the little aspects of everyday life that make can make a huge difference. Among them is where to sleep.
Most of the time, any old bed will do. I've stayed in hostels were there is a bare bulb on the ceiling, 12 sweaty men packed in a room, and hospitality offered as though it were gold (i.e. not readily). But that's okay. I sleep, perhaps change clothes, and then head back out looking for adventure. But every now and again, finding a place to stay that is more than just a bed is a very welcome change. I found one of those places in the Youth Hostel Plakias on the southern coast of Crete.
Comfortable rooms, super friendly staff, wonderful atmosphere, cheap prices, and enjoyable fellow travelers doesn't even begin to cover it at YHP. For me, it was a place to recharge, decompress, and get some much needed things done. My days spent sitting around telling jokes, drinking hot chocolate*, juggling the fallen lemons from the tree in the yard were as enjoyable or more so than the ones out visiting ancient ruins or doggedly seeking out the some attraction or another.
While part of me feels like I could stay at a place like this for weeks and weeks*, I know that I need to keep that all important balance. There are more islands to explore, more attractions to visit, and more culture to gobble up. So, somewhat reluctantly, I leave Chris and YHP behind and head north. And while I know there will be many cold dank rooms ahead, I trust there will be places that are more than just a bed as well.
|Wednesday April 20 2011||File under: travel, Greece|
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|One must keep in mind, when visiting ruins, historical context. For me, this became quite apparent when I visited the premiere example of Minoan ruins, the must-see attraction on Crete, the Palace of Knossos. After reading up on it and hearing it talked up to me, to say that I was underwhelmed initially would be an understatement. It just looked like a pile of rocks. There are better ruins across the street from my hostel*.|
But then I started reading the signs. Dates like 1900 B.C. and 1700 B.C. kept jumping out at me. That's old! And then I started thinking no wonder they don't compare to the ruins I saw at Ephesus, Heroplis, or Olympos. They were built over 1500 years before those places!
For me, impressive architecture is what I like in my ruins. Big and fancy things, like temples that dwarf everything around (like Tikal) or intricate carvings (like Angkor), are what make a set of ruins worth visiting for me. But this time around, I gained an appreciation for the other side of ruins, the contextual side. To realize that people lived in the houses that these foundations once held almost 4000 years ago is impressive in its own way. And while maybe there aren't the glossy brochure photo opportunities, I got off a decent shot or two.
|Sunday April 17 2011||File under: travel, Greece|
|There are a lot of things to like about Rhodes, Greece. The guidebook talks about museums and all sorts of historical buildings/ruins. My sister touts the beaches and island kitties. For me, while all these things are nice, it's no comparison. My favorite thing about Rhodes, that which kept me happily occupied for hours upon hours was the labyrinth of narrow streets and alleyways.|
At first glance, they often look like private pathways leading to someone's out of the way front door. But through a little exploration, I learned that that's the way the city is made, a reminder that, as an American I tend to forget, cities weren't always designed w/ streets to accommodate 2 lanes of vehicular traffic.
While it is primarily pedestrians that ply this meander maze, even the narrowest paths are traversed by the ever ubiquitous scooters. The wider "roads" even allow for the occasional precisely driven mini-car. With little in the way of obvious organization, this leads to impasses which are only resolved by some skillful reversing.
But for the most part, it is walkers that rule these relics of a simpler time. When tourist season hits in a couple months, I imagine the gauge could become an issue. As for now, it's down right beautiful.
|Friday April 15 2011||File under: travel, Greece|
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|When I started telling people that I was going to Turkey, I got lots of requests. "Take lots of pictures!" or "Send me a postcard!" But one request was so specific and awesome, although it took me quite a bit out of my way, I was happy to accomplish it.
"Think my name at a Sufi grave" was the request that my friend tasked me with. At first, I thought it would be no problem. Graveyards are everywhere and one of them was bound to have a Sufi grave. In asking around, however, I found that wasn't the case. I guess Sufis aren't so accepted or something. Anyway, when I reported back, I was told to "pull out all stops and head straight for Konya where the shrine of Rumi is".
So that's exactly what I did. I got there just before it closed but had enough time to complete the mission, and even gain an appreciation for something I would have never otherwise visited. And I get to tell my friend back home "mission accomplished!"
|Saturday April 9 2011||File under: travel, Turkey|
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|I've always been a big fan of farmers' markets back in the states. (I've even posted about them a time or two.) But stateside markets don't hold a candle to the markets of small town Turkey.
I've passed through 2 little towns on their market day this past week, and have enjoyed the spread (and the excitement and energy) each time. This time, I'm in Egirdir, a neat little town situated on a head of land sticking out into a great lake surround by mountains. The market pretty much takes over "downtown", closing off streets and making it the going slow to get to and from the fresh fruit juice stand.
But unlike in the U.S., these markets sell more than food. Besides the tables upon tables of fresh fruits and veggies, dried fruit and nuts, mountains of olives, and fresh cheeses, there are tables of bedroom slippers, miniature padlocks, hair ties, bras, and so much more. It's kind off like an outdoor mall, but with elaborate put up and take down procecdures.
Today, I bought a carrot, cucumber, fresh cheese, bagelly thing, and dried figs and headed out of town for a hike (which, for the record was pretty dang amazing!). Coming back through town a couple of hours later, all the trucks were loading up and the streets were passable again. It amazes me that such a huge commerce center is set up and taken down every week for just one day of sales. But what a day it is!
|Thursday April 7 2011||File under: travel, Turkey|
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|Some travel stories are too long to fit in a 200 word blog post, but I hate to leave them out because I think they really add to the feeling of what it is like to travel. The following is an example of a longer story that hopefully adds to the picture I'm trying to paint about my travels in Turkey. Please bear with me.*
Due to Turkish web censorship or some other technical reason, I can't access my bank's (U.S. Bank's) website. No biggie, really. I just wanted to see if my tax refund check made it yet. But then I needed to transfer money. And do a few other banking things. Still no crisis, but a pretty big headache.
Then, my accounts get frozen. I only find this out when I am trying to buy an airline ticket from a Dutch website (with liberal use of Google Translate). After completing the transaction, I get an e-mail to the effect of "der carden nein workingen". Bummer.
To try and assess and fix the situation, I talk a trusted friend not behind the great internet wall of Turkey into logging into my account. But one of the oh so helpful security questions have us stymied*. Then I have him use their contact form to submit a letter explaining the situation and try to resolve the issue by e-mail. But the contact form is limited to 200 characters, not nearly enough space to explain things.
It is decided that the best (and probably only) way to resolve the problem is by calling them. Easy, right? Um, not so much.
Being intimidated by regular phones, you can image what international calling does to me. But seeing as that's my only option at this point, I reluctantly go forth. Most international calling these days, at least on the travelling scene, is done through Skype. One hiccup is that the microphone on my computer doesn't work. So I use the hostel's. To use skype, you have to set up an account, so I do that. And to make calls to non-skype users, you have to charge your account up with money. In trying to do that, I realize that I can't...because my bank account is frozen.
I finally get some money on my account by transferring it via paypal, so I set to work to try and make the call. No dice. My skype account has, for some reason, been blocked from that number. Who knows what that's all about. Over the next day or two, I try skyping again from various computers, but again, no dice.
Next choice down the phone options tree is to use a public payphone. Supposedly I can call them collect, but I barely know how to call the US regular style, much less collect style. So to pursue said regular style, I go out and buy a phone card (which is what payphones require here, instead of coins). Through a combination of not understanding the prompts, not necessarily knowing how to dial internationally, and, I'm pretty sure, that I was sold a card with no credit on it, this also fails.
By this point, I can't help but laugh at this incredible fiasco. My attempts to fix a seemingly minor problem have gone on 4 days now and I don't feel any closer to a solution. But since having a frozen bank account doesn't mesh well with spending money hand over fist*, I keep pounding away.
Finally, through gestures and peering questioningly through windows, I find a real phone to call from. Once I get them on the line and explain things, the U.S. Bank people go to work and get most everything sorted out. I still can't access the website, but I can use my card...hopefully. The ticket I wanted is now long gone, so I haven't quite had the chance to test it.
On a somewhat related note, does anyone know how to get back from Europe mid-summer for under $11,000?
|Thursday April 7 2011||File under: travel|
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|Attractions, i.e. things to see, while travelling fall into a few general categories. There are the old and man made (temples, pyramids, ruins*), new and man made (big buildings, bridges), events (whirling dervish show, circuses*, and natural attractions (canyons, waterfalls, caves).
Pamukkale* definitely falls into this last category, but not in any subcategory that I've ever encountered. What looks like snow covered hills is actually eons of deposits of calcium from natural hot springs that flow into naturally terraced pools and down the hillside. When visiting, you take off your shoes and climb up the hillside, wading through the successively hotter pools (making friends along the way). Being that it was a cold day, we headed straight for top pool to wade and dork around. After making it to the top, it is back to category #1, with some spectacular ruins of which I won't post any more pictures*.
Yep, Pamukkale is a great spot. I planned on spending one night. I'm working on my third now. But tomorrow it is back on the road, another amazing set of attractions waiting to be discovered.
|Tuesday April 5 2011||File under: travel, Turkey|
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|Late in the summer of 4212 B.C., Greek city planner and part time musician John Stamos set sail with a dozen of his closest friends to find a new city. Or was it found? He could never remember and his Greek to English dictionary was woefully uninvented yet. Either way, he and his pals were going to build themselves a home based on truly greek ideals, ones that Athens had forgotten or ignored: toga parties and really good gyros.
Only hours into their voyage, however, a great storm arose from the sea. "That's the last time I pay tribute to Poseidon with generic brand ouzo," John thought to himself as he lashed himself to the mast. The storm raged on for 11 and a half months, with waves as tall as a two story building (which was the tallest thing invented at the time.) Only due to great fortune did they and their precious cargo of rotisserie meats survive.
The story continues...more?
|Friday April 1 2011||File under: travel, Turkey|
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And I also haven't figured out how make good panoramas on my Linux machine. I miss Panorama Factory.
The Black Sea, along with the Caspian Sea and the Dead Sea, have always been on the fringe of my geographic knowledge. I knew they were over in Asia somewhere, and that some of them were big. But their exact locations and specifics of their size, which countries border them, etc. have always eluded me. Hopefully now that will change.
The other day, I took an outing to the Black Sea. Staying in Safranbolu in North Central Turkey, it was just a 1.5 hour drive (along a windy road) to the little seaside village of Amasra. Being low tourist season, we pretty much had the town to ourselves. A civil worker(?) who had the day off even offered to show us around (although I think he had an ulterior motive because he learned I was from Seattle and he has an ex-girlfriend from Seattle and he wanted me to pass along a message to her*).
We ended up exploring the village on our own, hiking up to the hillside (which was covered in wildflowers), strolling the beach, and getting our feet wet (if it wasn't so cold (both the water and the air temp), I might have jumped in, just to say I've been swimming in the Black Sea).
The verdict on the trip was that, while it was quite nice, it might not have been worth the $16 and 3 hours crammed in the back of a mini-bus, but it wasn't the worst way to spend a day. And now I can say I've been to the Black Sea...and even that I know where it is!
|Thursday March 31 2011||File under: travel, Turkey|
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|Travel blogging is funny. I'm always thinking of what to post next, how to keep things fresh, etc. etc. What sometimes gets lost in the process are the little stories, the ones that I might tell when I got home at the end of the day, but two or three days later, seem of minor importance. Anyway, I've collected a few of these littles stories, which, each in their own right wouldn't be a blog post of its own, and combined them to share. I hope you enjoy!
Two Forks, Two Toothpicks, and a Salt Shaker
Spreading American Culture
|Tuesday March 29 2011||File under: travel, Turkey|
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