A little sad and already missing Deb, my evil genius partner in world exploration, I marched stiff-lipped and head held high through the Istanbul airport. Sour-faced employees thinned out the further I got from the security check and more familiar, welcoming sights began to fill the void. My long journey ahead had a stop in Kuala Lumpur before my final touchdown in Surabaya so the departure lounge seats were crowded with a variety of smiling, chatting, curious SE Asian travelers. *sigh* This feels better already. I was a novelty again; sneaky glances from grown ups, open-mouthed gaping from kids, giggles hid demurely behind delicate hands or snapped open newspapers, what’s the white girl up to? And smiles. Even from obviously weary travelers, I got smiles. Wow. Nice. I’m definitely heading in the right direction.
When in my life did 12+ hour flights, long layovers, more flights, then long drives in random vehicles become a normal bout of travel? Ugh! A little frazzled I finally arrived at the Surabaya airport, only a short 30 minutes late, bought an on-arrival visitor visa, collected my ginormous backpack and stepped out into my new country. The heavy, humid heat wrapped around me like a welcome home hug and I couldn’t help but laugh. I knew this place. I knew this culture. I didn’t have a clue where I was, knew zero words of the local language, and was being led blindly by the sweet girl and driver from the school who had come to pick me up but I was floating. The frantically swerving motorbikes on the overcrowded roads, the endless line of street carts steaming with bizarre and tempting foods cooked up while you wait, the palm trees towering amid the concrete maze and smoggy pollution, the long, straight, black hair, the flipflops shuffling along the ground, and the tiny bodies with the big, big smiles. Oh hello SE Asia, I think I’m home.
I’ve been here a week and it has passed by faster than a frat boy’s spring break in Mexico. New house, welcome dinner, new school, teachers, classes, students… my head is still spinning. But I’m being taken in and taken care of every step of the way. I live in a HUGE one level house with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, an enormous sitting area, dining area, and kitchen. My neighborhood is a posh residential area with quiet, tree-lined streets and a big, icky, central stagnant swampy pond where you can find locals either using it as an afternoon fishing area or outdoor toilet. Apparently it’s not uncommon to see someone going number 2 six feet away from someone catching their dinner. Hmmm… remind me not to eat at the neighbour’s house. Lots of food carts stroll by on a regular evening route, outdoor eating areas come alive after the sun has gone down, and mosquitoes multiply by the millions. I’m back, baby, I’m back!
I have my very own room with AIR CONDITIONING!!!, a luxury I won’t deny myself after years of simply having to sweat it out. I have two housemates and so far, it looks like life will be pretty easy. Adam, a lovely English guy who has been teaching in various places in Asia for the last six years. Only a couple of months here and he knows the ins and outs of this place already so has been showing me what’s what all around our cozy little neck of the woods and making sure I’m sorted out. Partner in the Philippines with hopes of being reunited by year’s end. Separation is tough. John’s a funny Greek guy who’s on his last term here. Ha ha “funny”, not weirdo “funny”. Laid back and encouraging. Not sure if he’s heading back to Greece or somewhere else but I’ll only have three months to get to know him. Girlfriend in Jakarta. Again, separation is tough. Easy to talk to and laugh with guys who are looking out for me and similar in that we all like our own space so no one takes offence when someone is hanging out in their room instead of chilling on the couch. I think I’ve been placed in the quiet house, by the sounds of it, and that works out perfectly for me. Now all I need to do is buy me a little motorbike so I can start getting out and exploring on my own soon soon!
Oh. And did I mention that we have two cleaning girls? Oh yeah. Two LOVELY young local girls who clean the house, wash our dishes, and wash our laundry. Seriously! I’ll come home from school and my bed, that I DID make, has been remade the way they like it, my dirty clothes have not only been washed but ironed and PUT AWAY in my closet, and any dish that I might have used has been washed and put away as well. Oh. My. Gosh. I feel SO guilty but WOW! I’ve been told not to interfere, they’ll take this as a slight on the job that their doing, so fine by me. Have at ‘er! Help yourself! You wanna make my bed and wash my clothes? I think I love you. My life is way too easy here.
The school is incredibly organized, professional, and comfortable. A big, resource-filled teacher room with curriculum already laid out, fully stocked classrooms with desks, whiteboards, sound systems, and sweet, sweet A/C, and a support staff that will do anything for us, including running off to get our lunch for us or hailing down taxis. The rest of the teachers at my school (the company has 4 schools) are par for the course in terms of getting my head on straight (more on my teacher folk later) and are just fabulous. A private school attended by the wealthy and educated so yeah, this place is top notch. Pinch me, please. How did I not come here before?
My students… oh wow. Classes are offered from 2:30pm – 9:15pm depending on the level of the student. They go to school all day and come to us for private lessons a couple of nights a week. Apparently expensive private lessons. Privileged kids but for the most part really, really nice. Really. I’ve got 6 classes that I teach on a rotating basis, 5 year olds, 8 – 9 year olds, 10 – 11 year olds, junior high kids, and senior high / college kids. All of them… super smart. Their English blows me away. Even the little ones! And the curriculum for the oldest students, yeah I’ve had to actually study and research the topics to be taught before going to class – they’re THAT good. Yikes. Intimidating for sure. Basic teaching and simply speaking English isn’t going to cut it here. Big learning curve for this girl but by the end of the year, I’m should be talking English real good yo yo!
I think I’ll generally work from 12:30pm – 8:30pm, even on the days I only teach for 3 hours, because I’m an organization freak and need to make sure I’m uber prepared before teaching. This apparently will fade as I become more comfortable, I’m told, or until someone kicks my ass for being a keener. They’re tolerating my eager beaver antics for now but I’ve been duly warned. I have the entire weekend off and a ridiculous amount of holiday time. Too much time to actually know what to do with at this point. I’m going to have to be careful I don’t spend every penny I make on all of the diving and exploring I want to do around here. Once my head stops spinning, the map is coming out and destinations will conquered. I’m in Indonesia!
I don’t have any pictures yet but I’ll get on it right away. I’ve made the mistake far too often of living in a place and getting so used to it that I forget that it’s not an everyday sight for most people. I’ll bring the camera everywhere with me next week and see what I can do. I also want to… *gulp*… get a motorbike as it’s a necessity to get anywhere. Looking into it now and will fill you all in on the horror stories once it becomes a reality.
Have to fly to Singapore for the day (oh my, doesn’t THAT sound fancy?!) on Tuesday to get my work visa organized and then I’m a true blue Kelt teacher. Yay me! I think this year will pass really quickly and hopefully, I should feel more and more at home as the days pass. No first month of crying myself to sleep (oh Thailand how I miss you!), no overwhelming horror at the choice I made, no yearning for comforts that have long since faded from memory. I’m a big girl now. While committing to this for an entire year is still a humming haunt in the far recesses of my mind, I think the year will come and go ending with a whole new world of opportunities laid out for me. Sticking with my theme, my universe is incredible at finding me these grand adventures… it’s upward and onward from here. Terimah kasih universe… I love what you’ve done for me!
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Time to Leave Turkey.
Deb & I were at a bit of a loss for what to see and do after Cappadocia. I had my flight booked to Indonesia so we had a deadline, it was too little time to try to visit another country and it just felt like too much time to stay in Turkey. Limited financially and geographically, we decided to stay in Turkey but to visit an area close to the Syrian border to see if things changed away from the more touristy route. We were off to Gaziantep, known to be home of the best baklava and the world’s biggest mosaics. Okay, let’s see what we find.
The bus trip got our hopes up as we passed some of the most beautiful scenery. Big mountains, green, green forests, this was all looking very promising. But the mountains flattened out, the green turned to brown and a very big city loomed ahead. Gaziantep is business central and we were there to spend four days. *sigh* Not what we were hoping for but baklava, mosaics, and local life… this could be good.
Yeah, it wasn’t. A modern city with a GREAT old market that we wandered through where you could see them hand making lots of tin and copper pots, jewelry, and other bits and bobs, cobblers cutting out really interesting leather shoes, and lots and lots of local spices, foods, and souvenir trinkets but c’est tout. For us market mamas, it was perfect, but after one round of nosing around, that was about it. MUCH searching led us to a tourist information building and the lady who we chatted with tried to turn us on to several unimpressive museums without success. She told us that the mosaic museum we came to see is under construction and closed (disappointed but not surprised), there are no live whirling dervish performances only a small museum of their culture (of course), and the castle / fortress in the centre of the city was THE major tourist attraction. *sigh* She loaded us up with books though. Gaziantep really doesn’t have much to offer but they’ve printed novel sized brochures on the little there is to see. “A” for effort, “F” for effect.
So we saw the little there was to see and tried really hard to find some happy people. Active big city, people were marginally more friendly, but yeah, not so much to report. Some really good people-watching spots that again just confirmed our suspicions of generally unhappy people. And to add to the ugh factor, Deb got sick at this point as well. All in all, the timing was actually perfect because she could stay in bed and take care of herself while not feeling that she was missing out on exploring any once-in-a-lifetime must-sees. I checked out the town a bit more, reported back to her, and yep, we were good to hang out and catch up our photos and blogging. Flights booked back to Istanbul and we’re almost done with Turkey. Count down is on.
Our second round in Istanbul, back to where it all began. The two guys running our hostel were two of the most socially inept, living in mom’s basement playing Dungeons & Dragons WEIRDOS ever. Each person that we met who checked into the hostel would eventually ask, “What’s up with the hostel guys?” Just rude. If you tried to talk to them, they kept their eyes on their computer screen and would mumble a few incomprehensible words until you gave up and walked away. They refused to acknowledge new arrivals and when people finally got frustrated by just standing around and insisted that they look up from the computer to check them in, they did so with a gigantic sigh, eyes rolling, and enormous effort. This is your JOB dude! What the hell is wrong with you people?!?
Oh we were done, done, done with this country. A few more explorations around Istanbul and as was the case our first time around, there were more happier people to be found so we soaked up the street and market hospitality like a dead man in the desert. Anyone who smiled or talked to us drew us in like moths to a flame. We were putty in their hands. You smiled! Wow! We should have stayed in Istanbul. Not Asian or African hospitality mind you, but we took what we could get after a month of miserable. It’s almost flight time.
After lots of packing and repacking, Deb analyzing and prioritizing my possessions for me, and some slight anxiety, I was packed and ready to hit the road for Indo. Deb changed her flight back to Spain to leave the same day as me as high season had arrived and travel was now insanely expensive plus, we needed to leave Turkey before someone was going to get a karate chop to the nose. It was really that bad.
Airport scene, lots more rude, dismissive people so yep, let’s get on our planes. Tears of desperation as I said goodbye to Deb who left shortly before I did and then it was my turn. Sitting at my gate surrounded by Asians, I felt the tension ease and the casual and smiley interactions between people lift any lingering doubts of my new ventures to Indonesia. My decision to teach in Asia over the Middle East was confirmed. I knew I was heading in the right direction.
Four months ago my life was turned upside down by an email. No job in Ghana, figure something else out. I visited areas I'd never considered seeing; fell in love with some and learned a lot from others. I’m thankful that I chose to visit the Middle East before accepting a teaching position there as it influenced my decisions enormously but it’s an area I’d still like to travel more. Live there, doubt it, explore, absolutely. I was able to reconnect with a friend who keeps my head on straight and shares my passions, something that I can’t place a value on. And I found my way back to an area that I had previously called home. I think Indo will be challenging and fascinating and overwhelming and adventuresome. I think it was the right decision. Whatever happens, as always, there will be good stories to tell, I’m sure.
Deb, to say thank you seems completely inadequate but I don’t know how I would have made it here without you. Our time together was ridiculously good fun, the wine was terrible, the miserable was balanced out by our mocking of it, and I remain entirely convinced that we will forever be kindred spirits. Soak up Spain, love your time in Canada, and please start planning your trip to Bali. Seriously. I love you.
That invite is open to ALL of you by the way. Indonesia… how could you NOT want to come?!? Wish me luck!
The bus trip got our hopes up as we passed some of the most beautiful scenery. Big mountains, green, green forests, this was all looking very promising. But the mountains flattened out, the green turned to brown and a very big city loomed ahead. Gaziantep is business central and we were there to spend four days. *sigh* Not what we were hoping for but baklava, mosaics, and local life… this could be good.
Yeah, it wasn’t. A modern city with a GREAT old market that we wandered through where you could see them hand making lots of tin and copper pots, jewelry, and other bits and bobs, cobblers cutting out really interesting leather shoes, and lots and lots of local spices, foods, and souvenir trinkets but c’est tout. For us market mamas, it was perfect, but after one round of nosing around, that was about it. MUCH searching led us to a tourist information building and the lady who we chatted with tried to turn us on to several unimpressive museums without success. She told us that the mosaic museum we came to see is under construction and closed (disappointed but not surprised), there are no live whirling dervish performances only a small museum of their culture (of course), and the castle / fortress in the centre of the city was THE major tourist attraction. *sigh* She loaded us up with books though. Gaziantep really doesn’t have much to offer but they’ve printed novel sized brochures on the little there is to see. “A” for effort, “F” for effect.
So we saw the little there was to see and tried really hard to find some happy people. Active big city, people were marginally more friendly, but yeah, not so much to report. Some really good people-watching spots that again just confirmed our suspicions of generally unhappy people. And to add to the ugh factor, Deb got sick at this point as well. All in all, the timing was actually perfect because she could stay in bed and take care of herself while not feeling that she was missing out on exploring any once-in-a-lifetime must-sees. I checked out the town a bit more, reported back to her, and yep, we were good to hang out and catch up our photos and blogging. Flights booked back to Istanbul and we’re almost done with Turkey. Count down is on.
Our second round in Istanbul, back to where it all began. The two guys running our hostel were two of the most socially inept, living in mom’s basement playing Dungeons & Dragons WEIRDOS ever. Each person that we met who checked into the hostel would eventually ask, “What’s up with the hostel guys?” Just rude. If you tried to talk to them, they kept their eyes on their computer screen and would mumble a few incomprehensible words until you gave up and walked away. They refused to acknowledge new arrivals and when people finally got frustrated by just standing around and insisted that they look up from the computer to check them in, they did so with a gigantic sigh, eyes rolling, and enormous effort. This is your JOB dude! What the hell is wrong with you people?!?
Oh we were done, done, done with this country. A few more explorations around Istanbul and as was the case our first time around, there were more happier people to be found so we soaked up the street and market hospitality like a dead man in the desert. Anyone who smiled or talked to us drew us in like moths to a flame. We were putty in their hands. You smiled! Wow! We should have stayed in Istanbul. Not Asian or African hospitality mind you, but we took what we could get after a month of miserable. It’s almost flight time.
After lots of packing and repacking, Deb analyzing and prioritizing my possessions for me, and some slight anxiety, I was packed and ready to hit the road for Indo. Deb changed her flight back to Spain to leave the same day as me as high season had arrived and travel was now insanely expensive plus, we needed to leave Turkey before someone was going to get a karate chop to the nose. It was really that bad.
Airport scene, lots more rude, dismissive people so yep, let’s get on our planes. Tears of desperation as I said goodbye to Deb who left shortly before I did and then it was my turn. Sitting at my gate surrounded by Asians, I felt the tension ease and the casual and smiley interactions between people lift any lingering doubts of my new ventures to Indonesia. My decision to teach in Asia over the Middle East was confirmed. I knew I was heading in the right direction.
Four months ago my life was turned upside down by an email. No job in Ghana, figure something else out. I visited areas I'd never considered seeing; fell in love with some and learned a lot from others. I’m thankful that I chose to visit the Middle East before accepting a teaching position there as it influenced my decisions enormously but it’s an area I’d still like to travel more. Live there, doubt it, explore, absolutely. I was able to reconnect with a friend who keeps my head on straight and shares my passions, something that I can’t place a value on. And I found my way back to an area that I had previously called home. I think Indo will be challenging and fascinating and overwhelming and adventuresome. I think it was the right decision. Whatever happens, as always, there will be good stories to tell, I’m sure.
Deb, to say thank you seems completely inadequate but I don’t know how I would have made it here without you. Our time together was ridiculously good fun, the wine was terrible, the miserable was balanced out by our mocking of it, and I remain entirely convinced that we will forever be kindred spirits. Soak up Spain, love your time in Canada, and please start planning your trip to Bali. Seriously. I love you.
That invite is open to ALL of you by the way. Indonesia… how could you NOT want to come?!? Wish me luck!
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Meet The Flintstones!
Our trip from Olympos to Cappadocia was LONG. Leaving Olympos all buses stop in Antalya where you then have to wait out the day for the swarm of night buses that all leave within an hour of each other to get to Cappadocia. This leaves most people with a full day to spend in what appeared to be a really interesting, very modern city and thus most people take full advantage by seeing the sights and cramming in as much culture as they can before the 10pm bus departure. Us? Well, we found a nearby modern mall, did some shopping, and hit the movies. Yep, we’ve been on the road far too long. I justified the shopping by knowing that I needed to start a job soon so t-shirts and flipflops weren’t going to cut it and we really wanted to see a movie in a proper theatre. Seriously folks, when TV is barely accessible, a MOVIE THEATRE is absolute indulgence! So while others sweated their way through the nearby Turkish sights, which I’m sure were very interesting, we were as cool and comfortable as a couple of 14 year old mall rats. Loved it!
Overnight sleepless ride to see the sun rise in … where did the Flintstones live?... Bedrock! Yeah, Bedrock! This place is straight out of The Flintstones! Massive vertical pinnacles cut out along canyons and mountains, caves in and above ground all along these rocks… it’s Bedrock meets the hoodoo Badlands of Alberta meets original Star Wars. Impossible to describe and the pictures don’t do it justice. Really unique, interesting landscape. So wild!
We dragged our butts and bags to our hotel, woke the staff to get our room, and promptly fell asleep for a couple of hours. It’s easy enough to explore the entire tourist oriented town in a few hours but there were lists of tours that you could book as well to see the sights just out of walking distance. Cost? Out of this world expensive. I guess if you had planned to only come to Turkey, maybe the prices would seem reasonable, but for people on the road for a while, this country was truly costing us a fortune.
***side note* Deb and I aren’t posh pants travelers but being that there are two of us, we could afford to get nicer places to sleep than if we were on our own. Both of us have slept in our share of dorm rooms and flea pits so again, as long as we had a place to crash, not too fussy. Turkey is not meant for backpackers on the cheap. I guess it depends on where you’re coming from and what kind of traveling you’re looking to do but the options of $10 nights were unheard of, not even $10 EACH, which would get you a whole HOUSE in some of the countries we had just come from. So when tours were costing around $50 a day, to some, it was worth it, to us, it was out of the question. Note to future travelers… save up to come to Turkey! ***
I did some exploring and hiking through some of the hoodoo canyons (Deb only had flipflops so couldn’t come) and saw as much as could by foot while Deb worked her social magic and chatted up a couple of fellow hostellers and convinced them to rent a car with us. SCORE! We met one other guy who wanted in so the next day 5 of us piled into a rental and hit the road to see why the buses where charging $50US per person.
***another side note* by this point, Deb and I have decided that we don’t like Turkey so much. We apparently aren’t completely alone in this opinion but have heard complete opposite experiences from other travelers so maybe we were running a stretch of bad luck for the month. We would sit for ages just trying to catch someone smiling or enjoying each other’s company or being nice or SOMETHING, but nope. Miserable. Miserable to each other, especially miserable to tourists, just miserable. We’d try to talk and joke with people… shut down. We were repeatedly ignored or told to “get out” when we would ask questions about travel routes or options simply because people couldn’t be bothered to do anything. LOTS of outright lying from many different people on things like bus routes, prices, general questions, and so on with a shrug of the shoulders and roll of the eyeballs when you called them on it. And the people in general, walking by on the street, in the shops, or just anywhere were unhappy, unhappy people. Coming from countries where the people have so little and give so much, Deb and I spent a good deal of time shaking our heads and sighing. Turkey has so much to offer but hospitality and nice people doesn’t seem to be one of them.***
The road trip was good fun, mostly because I got to drive a manual again (Yipee!) and we got to see all of the things that the tour buses saw at a fraction of the cost. Sweet. Huge underground cave “cities” that went 8 stories down and were really, really interesting until you realized that you were 8 stories underground with a couple hundred other tourists with only one very narrow single file stairway that led out. Gulp! Kept having to swallow down those choking lumps of claustrophobia that would sneak up if you thought about it too much. Not really able to get any good photos but a really neat experience. Saw some nice little villages that we wouldn’t have seen otherwise and generally wandered around for the day. A very good day.
My favourite thing in this place was the view of the early morning hot air balloon launchings. At least 50 hot air balloons would all lift off over Flintstone’s Bedrock just after sunrise and the skies were filled with their colourful globes bobbing and floating over the landscape, the wooshing sound of the burst of flames echoing through the canyons. Again, too pricey for our budget but to see them overhead was just incredibly beautiful. I’m sure it would have been an amazing way to the see the landscape but I’m pretty happy with all that we saw on the ground. Of course the photos don’t do it justice, but trust me, it was stunning.
Typical experience trying to get out of town, bus company agents who were too busy on facebook or picking at their faces in hand held mirrors to arrange a ticket for us and would wave us away telling us to come back later or just simply refuse to acknowledge us. Found one very nice guy who eventually got us sorted out after an hour of trying 5 different places all side by side. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. What is wrong here? Seriously?! We would even try to be goofy or silly, anything to get a smile, a laugh, some kind of rapport… nothing. You guys have read my stories… Deb and I both usually end up getting invited to stay with families or make new life-long local friends or have glorious tales to tell of how we have been taken in under someone’s wing who wanted to show us how wonderful their country is. Not here. No way. It was comical how miserable people seemed to be. Okay, okay, carry on. Let’s just keep moving.
Cappadocia was worth the visit and luckily for me, Deb is funny enough on her own so between the two of us, we kept ourselves fairly entertained. Mostly at others' expense mind you, but they never knew it so all good. We’re gonna have fun no matter what we run up against! Our time in Turkey is running out…
Overnight sleepless ride to see the sun rise in … where did the Flintstones live?... Bedrock! Yeah, Bedrock! This place is straight out of The Flintstones! Massive vertical pinnacles cut out along canyons and mountains, caves in and above ground all along these rocks… it’s Bedrock meets the hoodoo Badlands of Alberta meets original Star Wars. Impossible to describe and the pictures don’t do it justice. Really unique, interesting landscape. So wild!
We dragged our butts and bags to our hotel, woke the staff to get our room, and promptly fell asleep for a couple of hours. It’s easy enough to explore the entire tourist oriented town in a few hours but there were lists of tours that you could book as well to see the sights just out of walking distance. Cost? Out of this world expensive. I guess if you had planned to only come to Turkey, maybe the prices would seem reasonable, but for people on the road for a while, this country was truly costing us a fortune.
***side note* Deb and I aren’t posh pants travelers but being that there are two of us, we could afford to get nicer places to sleep than if we were on our own. Both of us have slept in our share of dorm rooms and flea pits so again, as long as we had a place to crash, not too fussy. Turkey is not meant for backpackers on the cheap. I guess it depends on where you’re coming from and what kind of traveling you’re looking to do but the options of $10 nights were unheard of, not even $10 EACH, which would get you a whole HOUSE in some of the countries we had just come from. So when tours were costing around $50 a day, to some, it was worth it, to us, it was out of the question. Note to future travelers… save up to come to Turkey! ***
I did some exploring and hiking through some of the hoodoo canyons (Deb only had flipflops so couldn’t come) and saw as much as could by foot while Deb worked her social magic and chatted up a couple of fellow hostellers and convinced them to rent a car with us. SCORE! We met one other guy who wanted in so the next day 5 of us piled into a rental and hit the road to see why the buses where charging $50US per person.
***another side note* by this point, Deb and I have decided that we don’t like Turkey so much. We apparently aren’t completely alone in this opinion but have heard complete opposite experiences from other travelers so maybe we were running a stretch of bad luck for the month. We would sit for ages just trying to catch someone smiling or enjoying each other’s company or being nice or SOMETHING, but nope. Miserable. Miserable to each other, especially miserable to tourists, just miserable. We’d try to talk and joke with people… shut down. We were repeatedly ignored or told to “get out” when we would ask questions about travel routes or options simply because people couldn’t be bothered to do anything. LOTS of outright lying from many different people on things like bus routes, prices, general questions, and so on with a shrug of the shoulders and roll of the eyeballs when you called them on it. And the people in general, walking by on the street, in the shops, or just anywhere were unhappy, unhappy people. Coming from countries where the people have so little and give so much, Deb and I spent a good deal of time shaking our heads and sighing. Turkey has so much to offer but hospitality and nice people doesn’t seem to be one of them.***
The road trip was good fun, mostly because I got to drive a manual again (Yipee!) and we got to see all of the things that the tour buses saw at a fraction of the cost. Sweet. Huge underground cave “cities” that went 8 stories down and were really, really interesting until you realized that you were 8 stories underground with a couple hundred other tourists with only one very narrow single file stairway that led out. Gulp! Kept having to swallow down those choking lumps of claustrophobia that would sneak up if you thought about it too much. Not really able to get any good photos but a really neat experience. Saw some nice little villages that we wouldn’t have seen otherwise and generally wandered around for the day. A very good day.
My favourite thing in this place was the view of the early morning hot air balloon launchings. At least 50 hot air balloons would all lift off over Flintstone’s Bedrock just after sunrise and the skies were filled with their colourful globes bobbing and floating over the landscape, the wooshing sound of the burst of flames echoing through the canyons. Again, too pricey for our budget but to see them overhead was just incredibly beautiful. I’m sure it would have been an amazing way to the see the landscape but I’m pretty happy with all that we saw on the ground. Of course the photos don’t do it justice, but trust me, it was stunning.
Typical experience trying to get out of town, bus company agents who were too busy on facebook or picking at their faces in hand held mirrors to arrange a ticket for us and would wave us away telling us to come back later or just simply refuse to acknowledge us. Found one very nice guy who eventually got us sorted out after an hour of trying 5 different places all side by side. Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. What is wrong here? Seriously?! We would even try to be goofy or silly, anything to get a smile, a laugh, some kind of rapport… nothing. You guys have read my stories… Deb and I both usually end up getting invited to stay with families or make new life-long local friends or have glorious tales to tell of how we have been taken in under someone’s wing who wanted to show us how wonderful their country is. Not here. No way. It was comical how miserable people seemed to be. Okay, okay, carry on. Let’s just keep moving.
Cappadocia was worth the visit and luckily for me, Deb is funny enough on her own so between the two of us, we kept ourselves fairly entertained. Mostly at others' expense mind you, but they never knew it so all good. We’re gonna have fun no matter what we run up against! Our time in Turkey is running out…
Cruising the Aegean & Mediterranean Seas.
Up and out early early as owner Adam kindly offered to drive us the 20 mins or so to the bus station where we were to catch our coach to Fedihye, the starting point of our Blue Cruise. Super nice guy, Adam, who would have offered the same service to any of his guests but seeing as it was HIM who drove us, not one of his staff, I think he wanted a little extra face time with my friend who stole his heart. Awww… So sweet.
Four hours on yet another bus (all trips seem to take 4, 5, or 6 compact hours almost exactly to the minute. Strange.) and we are eventually escorted to our awaiting sailboat. Wow. Really. Wow! I’ve never been on anything other than ferry boats or dive boats so THIS was exciting. Deb has been on lots of cruise ships and sail boats and everything in between and even she was pretty excited about this one. We were shown to our little cabin with its bunk beds and own private bathroom and both of us were pretty darn impressed with the setup. Big decks on the front, top, and main part of the boat with cozy sitting areas for lounging about, massive masts with sails tucked away (as we had huge distances to cover so the engine for mobility it would be), and a proper cool big wheel to steer us straight and clear. The boat looked brand, shiny new with its gleaming polished wood and brass and clean, crisp tarps, coverings, and ropes. This is a FANCY boat! Apparently not the usual for these kinds of cruises so how we managed to snag such a sweet ride, I don’t know, but I wasn’t about to ask either. Let’s get this baby off to sea!
Our mateys included 6 Colombian university students, early 20s and oh so cool, a Turkish mom, her adorably awkward teenage son and his best friend, and a French couple with their 18 month old baby. We were all a little hesitant about spending the next four days on the water with a baby but they had been traveling via camper van and had this kid under control. Seriously. Couldn’t have asked for a better bunch. It was mid afternoon, hot and sunny with a calm, blue sea and a bright clear horizon ahead of us by the time we pulled up anchor. Ahoy all! Let’s set sail! (Or whatever pirates say. What DO pirates say???) It doesn’t really matter. I’m going cruising.
So the next four days consisted of eating, sailing, swimming, snorkeling, chatting, visiting small beaches, bays, or villages, watching the incredible scenery pass by, and napping. *sigh* another one… *SIGH* Heaven. Now, I’ll be honest, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Despite the fact that the seas were calmer than the Captain had seen in quite some time, I was spending many, many, MANY long, consecutive hours on a boat. It didn’t matter how flat the water was, I was rocking. When I needed to go into my cabin for whatever, it was with a quick step and focused eye as being below deck sent my stomach churning. I was jumping in the water at every stop we made to try to settle the wobblies but by the time we finally stopped to explore a bit on land, I was green. Butterfly Valley, stunning and reminiscent of Thailand days of long ago, only a vague glimpse as I spent most of our visit time there spilling my guts in some bushes. Shame. That being said, so did most of the Colombians as well. We were needing a bit more time to get our sea legs steadily underneath us.
Deb, however, is a rocking and rolling queen. The rougher the weather, the happier she is. I slept outside, wrapped in blankets on deck every night not only because it was so perfect to be on the water under the stars in the cool fresh air but because there was simply no way in hell that I would have been able to stomach any length of time in that small (but very pretty!) cabin. The weather was heaven but even if it hadn’t been, I’m not sure I would have been able to handle it under there. Oh how I envy you, Deb; green with seasickness and envy.
As the second day dawned and my time continued on board, my stomach settled and the spewing stopped. Over the next couple of days, there was no more vomiting. I went a little stir crazy from time to time, I want to get OFF the boat, why can’t we get OFF?! but that too passed. By the end of our journey, the wooziness had disappeared, I was able to spend a little longer down under (but not too much longer) and I had found a brand new happy place. I see how people can fall in love with this kind of thing. I was SAILING! (well, not “sailing” because we were using the engine, but it was still a sailboat!) you know what I mean.
The days blurred by and it truly was a really great trip. Loved the group we had on board, jumping into crystal clear waters off the side of the boat within the first 10 minutes of waking up to start the day, seeing some beautiful beaches and villages along the Aegean and Mediterranean coast, and oh yeah, even managed to go for a dive. Kinda disappointing. Sad little spot with nothing to see for a good chunk of cash, but it was a dive and I’m happy diving so nice little bonus to the trip plan. We had a goofy little dance party on board one night and were taken to a “disco island” another night to meet up with some other “Blue Cruisers”. The other Cruisers only lasted an hour or so but our bunch danced the night away. Slight hangovers from both nights were instantly cured by an early morning jump in the sea. Just TOO much fun!
Not too many stories to tell of this journey but the pictures posted on facebook give a pretty good idea of how amazing the trip was for all of us. We finished our sailing near a small, strange town called Olympos where all places to sleep claimed to be “tree houses”. We had no choice but to stay in Olympos as it was too late after getting off the boat to really get to anywhere else significant. Our “tree house” was a wooden structure on stilts crammed in with several other wooden huts in an orange / lemon orchard. Two flat mattresses on the floor, that’s it. But it was cozy and very clean so we’re not picky. Again, reminders of my days in SE Asia. There wasn’t much to do other than a quick walk to a not so nice pebble beach, rest up, chill out, and book tickets out for the next day. So that’s what we did. With the fabulously salty memories still lingering, we made plans for our next delightful destination… Cappadocia, here we come.
Four hours on yet another bus (all trips seem to take 4, 5, or 6 compact hours almost exactly to the minute. Strange.) and we are eventually escorted to our awaiting sailboat. Wow. Really. Wow! I’ve never been on anything other than ferry boats or dive boats so THIS was exciting. Deb has been on lots of cruise ships and sail boats and everything in between and even she was pretty excited about this one. We were shown to our little cabin with its bunk beds and own private bathroom and both of us were pretty darn impressed with the setup. Big decks on the front, top, and main part of the boat with cozy sitting areas for lounging about, massive masts with sails tucked away (as we had huge distances to cover so the engine for mobility it would be), and a proper cool big wheel to steer us straight and clear. The boat looked brand, shiny new with its gleaming polished wood and brass and clean, crisp tarps, coverings, and ropes. This is a FANCY boat! Apparently not the usual for these kinds of cruises so how we managed to snag such a sweet ride, I don’t know, but I wasn’t about to ask either. Let’s get this baby off to sea!
Our mateys included 6 Colombian university students, early 20s and oh so cool, a Turkish mom, her adorably awkward teenage son and his best friend, and a French couple with their 18 month old baby. We were all a little hesitant about spending the next four days on the water with a baby but they had been traveling via camper van and had this kid under control. Seriously. Couldn’t have asked for a better bunch. It was mid afternoon, hot and sunny with a calm, blue sea and a bright clear horizon ahead of us by the time we pulled up anchor. Ahoy all! Let’s set sail! (Or whatever pirates say. What DO pirates say???) It doesn’t really matter. I’m going cruising.
So the next four days consisted of eating, sailing, swimming, snorkeling, chatting, visiting small beaches, bays, or villages, watching the incredible scenery pass by, and napping. *sigh* another one… *SIGH* Heaven. Now, I’ll be honest, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. Despite the fact that the seas were calmer than the Captain had seen in quite some time, I was spending many, many, MANY long, consecutive hours on a boat. It didn’t matter how flat the water was, I was rocking. When I needed to go into my cabin for whatever, it was with a quick step and focused eye as being below deck sent my stomach churning. I was jumping in the water at every stop we made to try to settle the wobblies but by the time we finally stopped to explore a bit on land, I was green. Butterfly Valley, stunning and reminiscent of Thailand days of long ago, only a vague glimpse as I spent most of our visit time there spilling my guts in some bushes. Shame. That being said, so did most of the Colombians as well. We were needing a bit more time to get our sea legs steadily underneath us.
Deb, however, is a rocking and rolling queen. The rougher the weather, the happier she is. I slept outside, wrapped in blankets on deck every night not only because it was so perfect to be on the water under the stars in the cool fresh air but because there was simply no way in hell that I would have been able to stomach any length of time in that small (but very pretty!) cabin. The weather was heaven but even if it hadn’t been, I’m not sure I would have been able to handle it under there. Oh how I envy you, Deb; green with seasickness and envy.
As the second day dawned and my time continued on board, my stomach settled and the spewing stopped. Over the next couple of days, there was no more vomiting. I went a little stir crazy from time to time, I want to get OFF the boat, why can’t we get OFF?! but that too passed. By the end of our journey, the wooziness had disappeared, I was able to spend a little longer down under (but not too much longer) and I had found a brand new happy place. I see how people can fall in love with this kind of thing. I was SAILING! (well, not “sailing” because we were using the engine, but it was still a sailboat!) you know what I mean.
The days blurred by and it truly was a really great trip. Loved the group we had on board, jumping into crystal clear waters off the side of the boat within the first 10 minutes of waking up to start the day, seeing some beautiful beaches and villages along the Aegean and Mediterranean coast, and oh yeah, even managed to go for a dive. Kinda disappointing. Sad little spot with nothing to see for a good chunk of cash, but it was a dive and I’m happy diving so nice little bonus to the trip plan. We had a goofy little dance party on board one night and were taken to a “disco island” another night to meet up with some other “Blue Cruisers”. The other Cruisers only lasted an hour or so but our bunch danced the night away. Slight hangovers from both nights were instantly cured by an early morning jump in the sea. Just TOO much fun!
Not too many stories to tell of this journey but the pictures posted on facebook give a pretty good idea of how amazing the trip was for all of us. We finished our sailing near a small, strange town called Olympos where all places to sleep claimed to be “tree houses”. We had no choice but to stay in Olympos as it was too late after getting off the boat to really get to anywhere else significant. Our “tree house” was a wooden structure on stilts crammed in with several other wooden huts in an orange / lemon orchard. Two flat mattresses on the floor, that’s it. But it was cozy and very clean so we’re not picky. Again, reminders of my days in SE Asia. There wasn’t much to do other than a quick walk to a not so nice pebble beach, rest up, chill out, and book tickets out for the next day. So that’s what we did. With the fabulously salty memories still lingering, we made plans for our next delightful destination… Cappadocia, here we come.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Cotton Castles and Causing Chaos in Pamukkale
***Pamukkale, meaning "cotton castle" in Turkish, is a natural site in Denizli Province in southwestern Turkey. The city contains hot springs and travertines, terraces of carbonate minerals left by the flowing water. Pamukkale's terraces are made of travertine, a sedimentary rock deposited by water from the hot springs. Travertine is a form of limestone deposited by mineral springs, especially hot springs. Travertine often has a fibrous or concentric appearance and exists in white, tan and cream-colored varieties. It is formed by a process of rapid precipitation of calcium carbonate, often at the mouth of a hot spring or in a limestone cave.*** Thanks Wikipedia!!!
Looks like snow, feels like pumice stone, boggles the mind. We arrived in this one-horse town of Pamukkale shortly before sundown and were swept up in the warmth and excitement of one of the keenest business owners in all of Turkey. Adam, entrepreneur extraordinaire, instantly fell in love with Deb, settled us comfortably into our cozy little room overlooking a HUGE pool, and then oriented us to the town that appears to exist simply for the tourists who come to see this magnificent creation of Mother Nature. The entire town can be seen in a brisk 30 minute walk with all roads leading to that massive snow-white tiered phenomenon gleaming out from a forested and rocky mountain landscape. As high school as we sounded, Deb and I were a broken record, “This is so cool. This is just SO COOL!”
Only needed a day to explore this brilliant bit of a science experiment gone perfectly haywire. And as is usually the case, Deb and I managed to find ourselves, unknowingly, in trouble. *sigh* We really don’t do this on purpose, I promise. We paid our fees, took off our shoes (no shoes allowed!) and began our early morning exploration from the bottom of the travertines to the top. Most of the tour buses start and stay at the very top section, we wanted to see it all. There were a handful of other people who had started to wander up ahead of us so we kept them and the route they were taking in the corner of our eye as we found a super sweet puppy and snapped photos of this indescribable place. Crystal clear water flowed fast and warm over glacier-like terraces reflecting sky blue pools while scratching rough and rocky under our toes. The hot, near summer sun confused senses as we sweated from beaming rays when it looked like we should have been shivering over ice sculptures. Yep, so very cool.
As we attempted to negotiate our way through a slippery section of a rather deep pool that we just watched 5 other people stumble out of, we started to hear a far off, frantic whistle blowing. We paid no attention to it because we were trying not to crack our skulls wide open on the rocky edge of the limestone. The soccer ref / traffic cop whistling became a little more insistent and we stopped our slopping around to try to find its source. As we peered back towards the entrance, we could make out a man in uniform gesturing wildly in our direction. We looked at the people ahead of us, they didn’t seem too concerned, so we carried on. And so did the whistling. We paid a little more attention and found that there was shouting accompanying the whistling so hmmm... we need to figure out what’s going on here. We slipped and crawled our way back out of the pool on to the ledge and tried to figure out what he was saying. No use, he was yelling, SCREAMING, in Turkish. Oh dear. He had started his way up to us but had to stop at some point as he had forgotten to take off his shoes so said shoes and the bottom bit of his pant legs were now soaked. Heh, heh, heh. This was kinda funny. Except that when he started back up towards us, he was as angry as a wet hen left out of the chicken coop. Whistling, gesturing, shouting, and we just stood there, looking at him, not having a clue what he was going on about. Oh shit Deb, I think we’re in trouble.
Closer he stomps and we’re shrugging our shoulders, trying to make out what he was losing the plot over. Closer still and we hear “DOWN! OFF! NO! FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN!” Well, I’m of course in near hysterics at this point, laughing as we tried to communicate with him, shouting back to him that we were following those other people and we were kinda stuck and couldn’t really get back down and what? What is “FORBIDDEN”? Far enough away that we had to shout but close enough that we could see his head about to explode as he near choked on his damn whistle that he didn’t stop blowing, we pick and trip our way back down to a lower section of the travertines. Apparently we followed our way up to sections that are closed off to feet to help preserve the pristine whiteness of it all BUT there are no paths, no signs, no ropes, nothing, just some aneurysm prone wanna be police officer chasing after trekking tourists finding their own way.
Both of us giggled and mocked our way along the “right” path as mad, wet hen splashed his way back down to his border post to curse us to the seventh end of hell. FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN! Oh far too funny!
As we headed further up, closer to our climb’s end and the tour buses’ beginnings, we crossed paths with the usual bunch of adorable Koreans in matching outfits, the pasty white British families in swimsuits encouraging instant sunburn, and the Eastern European porn stars in even skimpier swimsuits posing seductively among the channels of water and prancing children. Full on circus atmosphere – fantastic! A great day of being amazed and entertained.
We intended to take the town mini-bus back down to our hotel. Walking towards the bus stop, we were swooped up by a chatty man who said he was a mini-bus driver as he serenaded us with the one verse of Happy Birthday and two lines of Jingle Bells that he knew in English over and over again. Oh please, let’s go with him! Only once we were locked tightly in the van did Deb and I look at each other and shake our heads. This guy wasn’t the town mini-bus driver. A few questions and we figured out that he was a TOUR bus driver, waiting for his group to finish at the travertines so he thought he could make a few extra bucks on the side. We were brought, “free for you, just for look, no have buy” to an onyx factory where he obviously received his quota commission and we walked the obligatory route, learning a bit about the four different kinds of onyx being mined and how they make the bizarre amount of trinkets and bobbles that are all, of course, for sale “special price”. How nice, thank you.
Two fairly experienced travelers and we hop into some random van with some random guy who tells us, yes, mini-bus??? Not that we were far out of town or couldn’t have quickly gotten out of the situation should our spidey senses have been set off, but still. Slight slip in worldly wisdom. Luckily all this guy had on his mind was bad versions of silly songs and making new friends at the factory. Wow. Thank you horseshoe, wherever it may be.
Remember I told you that Deb and I are just winging it, no plans, just checking out what to do and see along the way? The perfect way to keep travels completely wide open, riding the suggestions of others. Adam, being the eternal excellent host, arranged the next bit of our journey. We were booked on a “Blue Cruise”. Three nights, four days, sailing from Fedihye to Olympos, Aegean Sea to the Mediterranean, exploring islands, seeing the coastline, and just cruising. Seasick McGee Me had some reservations as memories of violent vomiting collapsed in the bottom of rocking boats flooded my mind but I really wanted to do this. Really. So yep, book me in, I want to sail. Phone calls made, money paid, and we’re going cruising. Always a new adventure!
Looks like snow, feels like pumice stone, boggles the mind. We arrived in this one-horse town of Pamukkale shortly before sundown and were swept up in the warmth and excitement of one of the keenest business owners in all of Turkey. Adam, entrepreneur extraordinaire, instantly fell in love with Deb, settled us comfortably into our cozy little room overlooking a HUGE pool, and then oriented us to the town that appears to exist simply for the tourists who come to see this magnificent creation of Mother Nature. The entire town can be seen in a brisk 30 minute walk with all roads leading to that massive snow-white tiered phenomenon gleaming out from a forested and rocky mountain landscape. As high school as we sounded, Deb and I were a broken record, “This is so cool. This is just SO COOL!”
Only needed a day to explore this brilliant bit of a science experiment gone perfectly haywire. And as is usually the case, Deb and I managed to find ourselves, unknowingly, in trouble. *sigh* We really don’t do this on purpose, I promise. We paid our fees, took off our shoes (no shoes allowed!) and began our early morning exploration from the bottom of the travertines to the top. Most of the tour buses start and stay at the very top section, we wanted to see it all. There were a handful of other people who had started to wander up ahead of us so we kept them and the route they were taking in the corner of our eye as we found a super sweet puppy and snapped photos of this indescribable place. Crystal clear water flowed fast and warm over glacier-like terraces reflecting sky blue pools while scratching rough and rocky under our toes. The hot, near summer sun confused senses as we sweated from beaming rays when it looked like we should have been shivering over ice sculptures. Yep, so very cool.
As we attempted to negotiate our way through a slippery section of a rather deep pool that we just watched 5 other people stumble out of, we started to hear a far off, frantic whistle blowing. We paid no attention to it because we were trying not to crack our skulls wide open on the rocky edge of the limestone. The soccer ref / traffic cop whistling became a little more insistent and we stopped our slopping around to try to find its source. As we peered back towards the entrance, we could make out a man in uniform gesturing wildly in our direction. We looked at the people ahead of us, they didn’t seem too concerned, so we carried on. And so did the whistling. We paid a little more attention and found that there was shouting accompanying the whistling so hmmm... we need to figure out what’s going on here. We slipped and crawled our way back out of the pool on to the ledge and tried to figure out what he was saying. No use, he was yelling, SCREAMING, in Turkish. Oh dear. He had started his way up to us but had to stop at some point as he had forgotten to take off his shoes so said shoes and the bottom bit of his pant legs were now soaked. Heh, heh, heh. This was kinda funny. Except that when he started back up towards us, he was as angry as a wet hen left out of the chicken coop. Whistling, gesturing, shouting, and we just stood there, looking at him, not having a clue what he was going on about. Oh shit Deb, I think we’re in trouble.
Closer he stomps and we’re shrugging our shoulders, trying to make out what he was losing the plot over. Closer still and we hear “DOWN! OFF! NO! FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN!” Well, I’m of course in near hysterics at this point, laughing as we tried to communicate with him, shouting back to him that we were following those other people and we were kinda stuck and couldn’t really get back down and what? What is “FORBIDDEN”? Far enough away that we had to shout but close enough that we could see his head about to explode as he near choked on his damn whistle that he didn’t stop blowing, we pick and trip our way back down to a lower section of the travertines. Apparently we followed our way up to sections that are closed off to feet to help preserve the pristine whiteness of it all BUT there are no paths, no signs, no ropes, nothing, just some aneurysm prone wanna be police officer chasing after trekking tourists finding their own way.
Both of us giggled and mocked our way along the “right” path as mad, wet hen splashed his way back down to his border post to curse us to the seventh end of hell. FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN! FORBIDDEN! Oh far too funny!
As we headed further up, closer to our climb’s end and the tour buses’ beginnings, we crossed paths with the usual bunch of adorable Koreans in matching outfits, the pasty white British families in swimsuits encouraging instant sunburn, and the Eastern European porn stars in even skimpier swimsuits posing seductively among the channels of water and prancing children. Full on circus atmosphere – fantastic! A great day of being amazed and entertained.
We intended to take the town mini-bus back down to our hotel. Walking towards the bus stop, we were swooped up by a chatty man who said he was a mini-bus driver as he serenaded us with the one verse of Happy Birthday and two lines of Jingle Bells that he knew in English over and over again. Oh please, let’s go with him! Only once we were locked tightly in the van did Deb and I look at each other and shake our heads. This guy wasn’t the town mini-bus driver. A few questions and we figured out that he was a TOUR bus driver, waiting for his group to finish at the travertines so he thought he could make a few extra bucks on the side. We were brought, “free for you, just for look, no have buy” to an onyx factory where he obviously received his quota commission and we walked the obligatory route, learning a bit about the four different kinds of onyx being mined and how they make the bizarre amount of trinkets and bobbles that are all, of course, for sale “special price”. How nice, thank you.
Two fairly experienced travelers and we hop into some random van with some random guy who tells us, yes, mini-bus??? Not that we were far out of town or couldn’t have quickly gotten out of the situation should our spidey senses have been set off, but still. Slight slip in worldly wisdom. Luckily all this guy had on his mind was bad versions of silly songs and making new friends at the factory. Wow. Thank you horseshoe, wherever it may be.
Remember I told you that Deb and I are just winging it, no plans, just checking out what to do and see along the way? The perfect way to keep travels completely wide open, riding the suggestions of others. Adam, being the eternal excellent host, arranged the next bit of our journey. We were booked on a “Blue Cruise”. Three nights, four days, sailing from Fedihye to Olympos, Aegean Sea to the Mediterranean, exploring islands, seeing the coastline, and just cruising. Seasick McGee Me had some reservations as memories of violent vomiting collapsed in the bottom of rocking boats flooded my mind but I really wanted to do this. Really. So yep, book me in, I want to sail. Phone calls made, money paid, and we’re going cruising. Always a new adventure!
Cushy Kusadasi
Kusadasi (the “Kus” pronounced “Koosh”) lived up to its namesake as it proved to be our cushy home for a week-long veg out session. Heading to this highly recommended seaside town we knew we wanted to settle in for a few days, maybe a week. The pressure for me to find a job was mounting to slight anxiety and Deb had been on the move for quite some time. We had nothing but time and we were told that this was the place to stop and just be. Yep, turned out to be exactly that. Nice find.
A couple of long-ass but very efficient bus rides and we end up in town after dark, excited to see what looks like a potential vacation hotspot. Dropping bags and getting a quick orientation, we head out looking for apartment options and to check out what’s what in this southern seaside location. Not only did we quickly find a great little apartment, we found a town bursting of neon-lit, cobblestone-laid, souvenir and trinket lined streets buzzing with European holidayers gulping local beer and guffawing at the suave entrepreneurial lures attracting them into shops and restaurants. Oh this is gonna be SUCH good fun!
The next morning we moved into our new hotel apartment run by a charming Eugene Levy look alike and his equally kind family. Our apartment’s balcony over-looked one of the main streets in town where the lives of locals and tourists regularly passed by and festival-sized markets set up on Wednesdays and Fridays closing down all traffic for the day. Perfect, perfect, perfect! Bags emptied upside down, well-worn travel clothes washed in a full sized bathtub, shelves and closets filled with products freed from ziplock bags and travel cases, and we properly settled in. *sigh* Press pause and just breathe.
My priority… a job. Offers had come in and I had choices to make. After the disappointing and extremely expensive Ghana travesty, I was wary and worried. Country choices, salary differences, quality of life, contract stipulations… gulp! This isn’t fun anymore but time is running out and I needed to commit to something NOW. So Deb saves my life, once again. She walks me through the pros and cons of this one and that one. We look at the cities, the contracts, the offers, and what my daily life may or may not consist of. She’s patient with my hysteria, fills in my panicky gaps with information that she researched online, and allows me to become a falling apart mess for as long as it takes for me to make a decision. Throw me in the middle of someone else’s crisis and arms wide open I’ll take it all on. Tell me I have to make a decision that may settle me down for a period longer than a week and I’m in full-on meltdown mode. Deb! Choose for me. Sigh, Jan, I can’t choose for you, but you can do this. No, no, no! I can’t! Just choose for me! I promise, I won’t get mad or blame you if it goes wrong, or second guess your choice. Relax Janice, just break it down and think about it. *sob!* I need a glass of wine. Okay Jan, let’s have some wine.
And this is how it went for a couple of days. Deadline day arrived. I chose, they accepted, and a paid for plane ticket was emailed in my name. I HAVE A NEW JOB! I accepted a teaching position with a language school in Surabaya, East Java, Indonesia. Big, busy city and I’ve been warned that it’s a typical crowded, polluted, loud, somewhat unattractive Asian city but the beaches are short bus rides away, a nearby active volcano hike makes for an excellent weekend excursion, and hello! It’s Indonesia! A 20 minute flight to Bali and more short jaunts to some of THE best diving spots in the world. There are loads of details in the contract but I’ll share those after I’ve actually had a chance to see if they come to be. They seem organized, I’ve already heard from one of the teachers there (who seems LOVELY!), and I’m set to arrive on July 7th, starting to teach on July 11th. Gulp! That’s soon, soon, soon but the head teacher already sent me words of encouragement; telling me the first week is laid back and easy breezy and that I’ll be just fine. Wow. This is really going to happen. From Africa to the Middle East to Asia. It has been one wild year and a half.
We spent our week lounging. Wandering nearby market streets, checking out local beaches, and watching the fabulously funny, mostly British and Russian holidayers having a drunken good time was full time entertainment. There was so much more that maybe we could or should have seen as we were there for a good, long while but life was pretty easy there and we took full advantage of chill out mode. That being said, Deb & I can usually manage to find some small bits of trouble to stir up, completely by accident of course! Oh let me tell you…
As we indulged in our regular peering over the balcony sessions watching the world float by underneath, we noticed an establishment just next door to us that appeared to be a regular nighttime hot spot. But an unusual one in that we would see loads of men coming and going but no women. Hmmm… A darkened den with blue neon lights and music, oh whatever could it be? We absolutely knew EXACTLY what it was but we wanted to see the show for ourselves. So one night, early evening of course, we strolled in to find several heavily made up, scantily clad, hard looking Eastern European and Turkish girls seated at various tables ready for business. Deb and I confidently marched over and plopped our curious selves down at one of the tables alongside the wall, excellent view of the entire room, and smiled at the gawking and shocked faces all turned in our direction. The manager hurried over and asked us what we wanted, why are you here? we replied that we wanted a drink, he just stood there. Can we have a drink? Maybe a couple of Cokes? Again, blink, blink, blink. You? Drinks? Yes, please. He looks around, helplessly, shrugs his shoulders, and brings us our drinks. Hee.Hee. This is fun.
Initially there were only a few icky, lecherous men hanging around the outsides of the room peering at their potential prey and sizing up their targets for the night while Deb and I took in the whole scene. Some experienced girls very confident in their ultra high heels and outfits that left little to the imagination and some brand new barbies, one of whom was escorted into the bathroom by one of the more experienced entertainers shortly after she arrived to change her modest dress and faint makeup to a more appropriate street worthy image. *sigh* Such a shame.
More men slinked and slimed their way in the door while Deb and I continued to get confused and curious glances from the girls and the men alike as the bar staff nervously flitted nearby. Some of the girls smiled and waved at us, some scowled, I guess thinking that maybe we would get in the way of their money making for the evening (highly unlikely as we showed up in our shorts and ratty flipflops). Anyway, a short while into our sex for sale evening, several large men burst in through the doors and shouted, bringing the music to a screeching halt and freezing everyone to the spot. Deb, former police officer for 27 odd years, immediately recognizes this as a “RAID!” I, as the retarded thinks everything is funny people watcher doesn’t see anything but humor in the whole weird scene. As the panicked girls start to dig through their bags, the staff I’m watching try to make themselves invisible, and the large men start gallomping through the room demanding ID from each girl, I’m laughing. Loudly. Deb is shooting me “shut-up!” looks which I naturally don’t pick up on nor do I hear the head of the police pack shouting in our direction. Deb notices him getting increasingly angry at me not picking up on the seriousness of the situation and then HE shouts at me to “SHUT UP!” (I didn’t hear this either, Deb had to finally tell me.) Yep, I’m a moron.
We watch as each shaky girl has her ID confiscated and a couple of them look over to us, giving us a thumbs up or mouthing “it’s okay, it’s okay” trying to reassure us. The angry head of the raid guy stomps over to our table and I’m now a bit nervous so even more giggly. He looks at us, looks at the manager, back at us, then sticks his hand out “PASSPORT!” Deb and I smile sweetly, tell him that we are living next door and just came over for a drink. We have no ID on us. Again he looks over at the manager, they both shrug their shoulders, and angry grumpy raid guy stomps off. Whew. I think it was pretty obvious that we weren’t involved in the evening activities just by looking at us. Oh. My. Goodness.
As each girl was eventually given back her ID, sighs of relief, claps of joy, and squeals of thanks were heard around the room. Poor things. Police leave, music starts back up again and then… in walks the madam. A frumpy, miserable, in-charge looking woman who scared the girls a million times more than the police raid. As she made her rounds, checking out what the girls were wearing and what they were up to, the girls were ordered to scatter to the drooling, greasy maggots sitting around the edges of the room and start conducting their business. The easy smiles and casual comfort as they hung around each other switched to seductive sashaying and teasing touching in efforts to bring in the money demanded by the bitch in charge. Heart breaking. We took our leave shortly after this.
Not sure the owner of our hotel was too happy to see where we were returning from but we thought it was pretty funny. Canadian girls… sheesh!
Getting out of Kusadasi and towards our next destination proved to be equally as frustrating as each bus company claimed to either be full or confused or simply didn’t want to help us. What the HELL is going on here?! “Tourist agencies” and “bus companies” but no one knew how to get us from one major city to the next nor were they interested in selling to us. Grrrr! We finally found one very nice man who sorted out two tickets for us but wowsers, it took some serious effort. For a country high on the list of European travel destinations, this country isn’t proving to be very tourist friendly. Whatever. We had a good week in a fun place, reams of relaxation, a little trouble stirred up, and yippee do dah… new job for me! Everything else is gravy on this travel train. Yee-haw! We’re off to Pamukkale.
A couple of long-ass but very efficient bus rides and we end up in town after dark, excited to see what looks like a potential vacation hotspot. Dropping bags and getting a quick orientation, we head out looking for apartment options and to check out what’s what in this southern seaside location. Not only did we quickly find a great little apartment, we found a town bursting of neon-lit, cobblestone-laid, souvenir and trinket lined streets buzzing with European holidayers gulping local beer and guffawing at the suave entrepreneurial lures attracting them into shops and restaurants. Oh this is gonna be SUCH good fun!
The next morning we moved into our new hotel apartment run by a charming Eugene Levy look alike and his equally kind family. Our apartment’s balcony over-looked one of the main streets in town where the lives of locals and tourists regularly passed by and festival-sized markets set up on Wednesdays and Fridays closing down all traffic for the day. Perfect, perfect, perfect! Bags emptied upside down, well-worn travel clothes washed in a full sized bathtub, shelves and closets filled with products freed from ziplock bags and travel cases, and we properly settled in. *sigh* Press pause and just breathe.
My priority… a job. Offers had come in and I had choices to make. After the disappointing and extremely expensive Ghana travesty, I was wary and worried. Country choices, salary differences, quality of life, contract stipulations… gulp! This isn’t fun anymore but time is running out and I needed to commit to something NOW. So Deb saves my life, once again. She walks me through the pros and cons of this one and that one. We look at the cities, the contracts, the offers, and what my daily life may or may not consist of. She’s patient with my hysteria, fills in my panicky gaps with information that she researched online, and allows me to become a falling apart mess for as long as it takes for me to make a decision. Throw me in the middle of someone else’s crisis and arms wide open I’ll take it all on. Tell me I have to make a decision that may settle me down for a period longer than a week and I’m in full-on meltdown mode. Deb! Choose for me. Sigh, Jan, I can’t choose for you, but you can do this. No, no, no! I can’t! Just choose for me! I promise, I won’t get mad or blame you if it goes wrong, or second guess your choice. Relax Janice, just break it down and think about it. *sob!* I need a glass of wine. Okay Jan, let’s have some wine.
And this is how it went for a couple of days. Deadline day arrived. I chose, they accepted, and a paid for plane ticket was emailed in my name. I HAVE A NEW JOB! I accepted a teaching position with a language school in Surabaya, East Java, Indonesia. Big, busy city and I’ve been warned that it’s a typical crowded, polluted, loud, somewhat unattractive Asian city but the beaches are short bus rides away, a nearby active volcano hike makes for an excellent weekend excursion, and hello! It’s Indonesia! A 20 minute flight to Bali and more short jaunts to some of THE best diving spots in the world. There are loads of details in the contract but I’ll share those after I’ve actually had a chance to see if they come to be. They seem organized, I’ve already heard from one of the teachers there (who seems LOVELY!), and I’m set to arrive on July 7th, starting to teach on July 11th. Gulp! That’s soon, soon, soon but the head teacher already sent me words of encouragement; telling me the first week is laid back and easy breezy and that I’ll be just fine. Wow. This is really going to happen. From Africa to the Middle East to Asia. It has been one wild year and a half.
We spent our week lounging. Wandering nearby market streets, checking out local beaches, and watching the fabulously funny, mostly British and Russian holidayers having a drunken good time was full time entertainment. There was so much more that maybe we could or should have seen as we were there for a good, long while but life was pretty easy there and we took full advantage of chill out mode. That being said, Deb & I can usually manage to find some small bits of trouble to stir up, completely by accident of course! Oh let me tell you…
As we indulged in our regular peering over the balcony sessions watching the world float by underneath, we noticed an establishment just next door to us that appeared to be a regular nighttime hot spot. But an unusual one in that we would see loads of men coming and going but no women. Hmmm… A darkened den with blue neon lights and music, oh whatever could it be? We absolutely knew EXACTLY what it was but we wanted to see the show for ourselves. So one night, early evening of course, we strolled in to find several heavily made up, scantily clad, hard looking Eastern European and Turkish girls seated at various tables ready for business. Deb and I confidently marched over and plopped our curious selves down at one of the tables alongside the wall, excellent view of the entire room, and smiled at the gawking and shocked faces all turned in our direction. The manager hurried over and asked us what we wanted, why are you here? we replied that we wanted a drink, he just stood there. Can we have a drink? Maybe a couple of Cokes? Again, blink, blink, blink. You? Drinks? Yes, please. He looks around, helplessly, shrugs his shoulders, and brings us our drinks. Hee.Hee. This is fun.
Initially there were only a few icky, lecherous men hanging around the outsides of the room peering at their potential prey and sizing up their targets for the night while Deb and I took in the whole scene. Some experienced girls very confident in their ultra high heels and outfits that left little to the imagination and some brand new barbies, one of whom was escorted into the bathroom by one of the more experienced entertainers shortly after she arrived to change her modest dress and faint makeup to a more appropriate street worthy image. *sigh* Such a shame.
More men slinked and slimed their way in the door while Deb and I continued to get confused and curious glances from the girls and the men alike as the bar staff nervously flitted nearby. Some of the girls smiled and waved at us, some scowled, I guess thinking that maybe we would get in the way of their money making for the evening (highly unlikely as we showed up in our shorts and ratty flipflops). Anyway, a short while into our sex for sale evening, several large men burst in through the doors and shouted, bringing the music to a screeching halt and freezing everyone to the spot. Deb, former police officer for 27 odd years, immediately recognizes this as a “RAID!” I, as the retarded thinks everything is funny people watcher doesn’t see anything but humor in the whole weird scene. As the panicked girls start to dig through their bags, the staff I’m watching try to make themselves invisible, and the large men start gallomping through the room demanding ID from each girl, I’m laughing. Loudly. Deb is shooting me “shut-up!” looks which I naturally don’t pick up on nor do I hear the head of the police pack shouting in our direction. Deb notices him getting increasingly angry at me not picking up on the seriousness of the situation and then HE shouts at me to “SHUT UP!” (I didn’t hear this either, Deb had to finally tell me.) Yep, I’m a moron.
We watch as each shaky girl has her ID confiscated and a couple of them look over to us, giving us a thumbs up or mouthing “it’s okay, it’s okay” trying to reassure us. The angry head of the raid guy stomps over to our table and I’m now a bit nervous so even more giggly. He looks at us, looks at the manager, back at us, then sticks his hand out “PASSPORT!” Deb and I smile sweetly, tell him that we are living next door and just came over for a drink. We have no ID on us. Again he looks over at the manager, they both shrug their shoulders, and angry grumpy raid guy stomps off. Whew. I think it was pretty obvious that we weren’t involved in the evening activities just by looking at us. Oh. My. Goodness.
As each girl was eventually given back her ID, sighs of relief, claps of joy, and squeals of thanks were heard around the room. Poor things. Police leave, music starts back up again and then… in walks the madam. A frumpy, miserable, in-charge looking woman who scared the girls a million times more than the police raid. As she made her rounds, checking out what the girls were wearing and what they were up to, the girls were ordered to scatter to the drooling, greasy maggots sitting around the edges of the room and start conducting their business. The easy smiles and casual comfort as they hung around each other switched to seductive sashaying and teasing touching in efforts to bring in the money demanded by the bitch in charge. Heart breaking. We took our leave shortly after this.
Not sure the owner of our hotel was too happy to see where we were returning from but we thought it was pretty funny. Canadian girls… sheesh!
Getting out of Kusadasi and towards our next destination proved to be equally as frustrating as each bus company claimed to either be full or confused or simply didn’t want to help us. What the HELL is going on here?! “Tourist agencies” and “bus companies” but no one knew how to get us from one major city to the next nor were they interested in selling to us. Grrrr! We finally found one very nice man who sorted out two tickets for us but wowsers, it took some serious effort. For a country high on the list of European travel destinations, this country isn’t proving to be very tourist friendly. Whatever. We had a good week in a fun place, reams of relaxation, a little trouble stirred up, and yippee do dah… new job for me! Everything else is gravy on this travel train. Yee-haw! We’re off to Pamukkale.
Chuckles in Chanakkale
A bit wistful leaving Istanbul as it was, IS such a great city, but Deb & I were very much looking forward to what else Turkey had to offer us. On to the ferry (with revised travel plans in hand) and we scored primo outdoor seats on a VERY fancy boat. The very fancy boat is actually a normal, everyday, transportation ferry but come on people, I’ve been living in Africa. I’ve become so used to ragamuffin, ancient, deadly modes of travel that I find myself getting super excited over functioning and attached doors and windows, no animals or strange smelling produce on board, and enough room for me AND my stuff to fit quite comfortably. My boats usually have plastic bags plugging up random holes here and there with an extra stash of petrol in an old, plastic Coke bottle. This was SUCH luxury! Exciting times, my friends, very exciting times.
Travel in Turkey is completely modern and very, very easy. This country is a fascinating combination of Europe and the Middle East; the laid back nature of a European travel destination with the cultural and historical allure of an Arabic adventure. As neither Deb nor I had really planned to come to Turkey, we had no idea where we wanted to go, what we wanted to see, or what the country had to offer. Lucky for us, Turkey is HUGE and everyone we’ve met so far has loaded us up with suggestions of “must sees”. And lucky for ME, the bus stations seem to be close enough to hostels, hotels, and ferry ports. The looks I get stumbling along with my oversized hunchback backpack are evidence enough that this girl needs to settle down sometime soon. Deb, the expert traveler, trots efficiently along with her dainty little roller pack as I sweat and snort behind her refusing any offer of help. Stubborn mule. She tries to make me feel better by reminding me that I have my life in my bag and am looking to move to a new country, not just travelling, but really, we both know that I’m simply ridiculous. Thanks for trying, Deb.
Ferry and mini bus brings us to Chanakkale. After some stumbling through what looks like an interesting, non-touristy small waterfront town, we find our hostel. The road in front of the place is a construction site, completely torn up with a digger parked square and sure just outside the door with mounds of dirt, ripped up concrete and piles of bricks stacked here and there. Hmmm… not sure this is gonna be a good one. We’re greeted warmly by a Paul Newman look alike owner if Paul Newman had the misfortune of being slightly inbred, had fallen down on his face once or twice, and forgotten to shower for a few weeks. But SO happy to see us and literally tripping over himself to get us settled in and comfortable. Not the swiftest rat in the race but so very nice and the place was warm and homey. Yep, we’ll stay.
Great little town with some of the best people watching spots on the planet. Deb and I (thankfully) share an almost obsessive fascination with sitting and watching the local life pass by. We also (even more thankfully) share the same sense of humor when it comes to the accompanying commentary on those fascinating creatures that happen to pass by. Turkey seems to have more than its fair share of individuals with a wildly unusual amount of thick, black hair, round babushkas with their plain, functional kerchiefs tossed loosely over their heads, and quirky clothing choices that often left us speechless. Now, it’s very clear that WE’RE not top notch fashionistas ourselves by any stretch of the imagination and we both know that being nice Canadians in someone else’s country is top priority so our commentary and our amusement is good-hearted and discreet. We have been thoroughly, thoroughly entertained so far.
A quick and comfy ferry visit to the island of Gallipoli, learning more about the ANZAC significance and the incredible feats of the Turkish military of WWII. Had no clue. Unfortunately, Gallipoli isn’t really set up as random traveler friendly so if you’ve arrived not being part of a pre-arranged bus tour, (which of course we didn’t. We just wing everything) you had to pay a small fortune to a half-interested taxi driver to get to any of the memorial sites. Hmmm… no thanks. We were quite happy hanging out at the water front and perplexing the local minibus drivers as we wanted to just ride the bus from one ferry port to another to at least get to see some of the landscape. They weren’t quite sure what to do with us but we’re both pretty used to that reaction by now so we smile and nod and carry on. Good times in Turkey.
Our attempts to leave Chanakkale proved to be bizarre and eventually downright annoying. We spoke to several different travel companies who appeared to be able to book tickets for various bus companies but were getting absolutely nowhere so we walked to the main bus station where 1., acknowledging our existence as we stood at the counter was a HUGE inconvenience to them and 2., we had the word “FULL!” shouted at us before we even had a chance to finish our request. *sigh* But you don’t even know where we want to go yet. FULL! Wait a minute, what’s full? BUS! FULL! Which bus? All these buses? To all these cities? FULL! We want to go to Kusadasi. FULL! Oh my gosh. You’ve got to be kidding me. After lots of back and forth to all of the different bus companies, we found one that had seats left for late the following afternoon. No seats in the morning? FULL!!!! Okay, okay, afternoon is fine. *sigh* Funny now, not so much in the moment. Gong show.
Our remaining time in Chanakkale included some more people watching on a busy waterfront indulging in some yummy ice-cream and my new addiction, Turkish coffee, shopping for the ever essential bus snacks, and repacking the incredibly durable pack that seems to explode like confetti poppers each time I even touch the zipper. We were looking forward to our next destination, apparently along with the entire population of Chanakkale, by the time our afternoon bus finally arrived. Nice little town. Amusement rating… SOLID! Thanks Chanakkale!
Travel in Turkey is completely modern and very, very easy. This country is a fascinating combination of Europe and the Middle East; the laid back nature of a European travel destination with the cultural and historical allure of an Arabic adventure. As neither Deb nor I had really planned to come to Turkey, we had no idea where we wanted to go, what we wanted to see, or what the country had to offer. Lucky for us, Turkey is HUGE and everyone we’ve met so far has loaded us up with suggestions of “must sees”. And lucky for ME, the bus stations seem to be close enough to hostels, hotels, and ferry ports. The looks I get stumbling along with my oversized hunchback backpack are evidence enough that this girl needs to settle down sometime soon. Deb, the expert traveler, trots efficiently along with her dainty little roller pack as I sweat and snort behind her refusing any offer of help. Stubborn mule. She tries to make me feel better by reminding me that I have my life in my bag and am looking to move to a new country, not just travelling, but really, we both know that I’m simply ridiculous. Thanks for trying, Deb.
Ferry and mini bus brings us to Chanakkale. After some stumbling through what looks like an interesting, non-touristy small waterfront town, we find our hostel. The road in front of the place is a construction site, completely torn up with a digger parked square and sure just outside the door with mounds of dirt, ripped up concrete and piles of bricks stacked here and there. Hmmm… not sure this is gonna be a good one. We’re greeted warmly by a Paul Newman look alike owner if Paul Newman had the misfortune of being slightly inbred, had fallen down on his face once or twice, and forgotten to shower for a few weeks. But SO happy to see us and literally tripping over himself to get us settled in and comfortable. Not the swiftest rat in the race but so very nice and the place was warm and homey. Yep, we’ll stay.
Great little town with some of the best people watching spots on the planet. Deb and I (thankfully) share an almost obsessive fascination with sitting and watching the local life pass by. We also (even more thankfully) share the same sense of humor when it comes to the accompanying commentary on those fascinating creatures that happen to pass by. Turkey seems to have more than its fair share of individuals with a wildly unusual amount of thick, black hair, round babushkas with their plain, functional kerchiefs tossed loosely over their heads, and quirky clothing choices that often left us speechless. Now, it’s very clear that WE’RE not top notch fashionistas ourselves by any stretch of the imagination and we both know that being nice Canadians in someone else’s country is top priority so our commentary and our amusement is good-hearted and discreet. We have been thoroughly, thoroughly entertained so far.
A quick and comfy ferry visit to the island of Gallipoli, learning more about the ANZAC significance and the incredible feats of the Turkish military of WWII. Had no clue. Unfortunately, Gallipoli isn’t really set up as random traveler friendly so if you’ve arrived not being part of a pre-arranged bus tour, (which of course we didn’t. We just wing everything) you had to pay a small fortune to a half-interested taxi driver to get to any of the memorial sites. Hmmm… no thanks. We were quite happy hanging out at the water front and perplexing the local minibus drivers as we wanted to just ride the bus from one ferry port to another to at least get to see some of the landscape. They weren’t quite sure what to do with us but we’re both pretty used to that reaction by now so we smile and nod and carry on. Good times in Turkey.
Our attempts to leave Chanakkale proved to be bizarre and eventually downright annoying. We spoke to several different travel companies who appeared to be able to book tickets for various bus companies but were getting absolutely nowhere so we walked to the main bus station where 1., acknowledging our existence as we stood at the counter was a HUGE inconvenience to them and 2., we had the word “FULL!” shouted at us before we even had a chance to finish our request. *sigh* But you don’t even know where we want to go yet. FULL! Wait a minute, what’s full? BUS! FULL! Which bus? All these buses? To all these cities? FULL! We want to go to Kusadasi. FULL! Oh my gosh. You’ve got to be kidding me. After lots of back and forth to all of the different bus companies, we found one that had seats left for late the following afternoon. No seats in the morning? FULL!!!! Okay, okay, afternoon is fine. *sigh* Funny now, not so much in the moment. Gong show.
Our remaining time in Chanakkale included some more people watching on a busy waterfront indulging in some yummy ice-cream and my new addiction, Turkish coffee, shopping for the ever essential bus snacks, and repacking the incredibly durable pack that seems to explode like confetti poppers each time I even touch the zipper. We were looking forward to our next destination, apparently along with the entire population of Chanakkale, by the time our afternoon bus finally arrived. Nice little town. Amusement rating… SOLID! Thanks Chanakkale!
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