Speeding Along
I think I don't like mutabal. The gallayah was good, but nothing to write home about. But I guess good enough to blog about?

So after Chimera, I spent morning lazing about, mostly trying to work on a tan. To get to the beach, I would've had to take a ten-minute walk through some ruins (and pay money for them), so I just hung out at the hostel, alternating between hammock and picnic bench.

I think I've actually managed to sunburn my forearm. But it looks like it skipped pain and went straight through to peeling.

Anyway, I took a shower and headed to Antalya for the afternoon. But all I really did was go to the hamam and get some [Turkish] fast food. I've managed to not eat anything "American," or any of the foreign cuisines that are now mainstream (e.g. Italian, Chinese). Although I am sometimes weak when I pass a McDonald's, which isn't frequently. And American fast food doesn't really cross my mind unless I see it.

So I bathed and ate, and then I got on a bus bound for Cappadocia, or land of the "fairy chimneys." The fairy chimneys are geologic phenomena that resemble misshapen penises. Much of the land is soft and volcanic in origin, so it readily erodes. But where harder rocks were on these beds of soft rock, they prevented the erosion of the clay directly beneath them. This resulted in towers of this soft rock, with a large rock perched atop. So then the whole penis thing.

I got into a town called Göreme at 6:30 in the morning, not having continuously slept for more than two hours all night. And nothing was open. So I sat on the curb for half an hour, until the bus company offices started opening. I found a bus for the right time and price, and they let me leave my backpack in the office for the day.

I headed across the town square to ask about moped rental prices. Two of the three agencies were open, and they offered the same price. I tried to find breakfast, to get some calories in me, but nothing was open. So I just got cookies at the market.

And then I drove around on a moped for eight hours. Well, I stopped along the way. I hit many of the tourist sites in the region, including Zelve (where people carved cave dwellings but were forced to relocate in the 50s), Devrent Valley (clusters of fairy chimneys), Özkonak (one of the underground cities, but small in scale), the towns of Avanos and Ürgüp, and Kaymaklı (one of the larger underground cities). Notably, I didn't have time for the Göreme Open Air Museum, which is like Zelve, but more impressive and with intact frescoes.

And while the sites were interesting, it was also nice zipping down the roads, watching the scenery pass (I think the moped is part of the reason my forearms are peeling).

I tried to go to the local hamam, since I was feeling gross, but they were at capacity with a tour group. So I just treated myself to a steak dinner (oops, American!) and then got on a bus bound for Antakya.

The ride was uneventful; I passed out pretty hard, and I had to be woke up after everyone had already disembarked.

And then the story picks up with the Attractive Man and the Syrian border.

Labels: bar trip, Göreme (TR), Olympos (TR)

- posted by roger @ 8:18 PM (0) comments

 
At Least I Got a Facebook Profile Pic Out of It
So the Chimera was kind of a let down. It's a site on the Mediterranean coast of Turkey. The towns Çıralı and Olympos are nearby, but the closest big city is Antalya. The preferred spelling may be Chimaera, but I'm just going with Chimera. Anyway, the legend goes that Zeus buried Chimera in the ground and poured molten lead down his throat, causing him to breathe fire (or something to that effect). And to this day, Chimera continues to breathe fire: there are maybe 20 cracks in the ground where escaping gas spontaneously ignites upon contact with the air. The LP said you can cover a hole and put out the fire, but the fire returns as soon as you uncover it. I kind of wanted to see if I could pee one out, but my bladder wouldn't hold for the 1.5h walk, and there were people around, anyway.

Sounds like a cool site, right? Twenty small fires, littered across the ground? That's just it--it sounds cool and probably warrants a googling/wikipedia, but it's really not essential to see. It looks exactly like a gas fireplace...because that's what it is. The flames are cool, but they're mostly steady, due to the constant stream of gas. So you're just watching a fire, without anything visibly burning, and without any sounds.

It just wasn't worth the logistical details, e.g. trying to be there at night.

Dinner's here: mutabal and red gallayah!

Labels: bar trip, Olympos (TR)

- posted by roger @ 7:34 PM (0) comments

 
Whew
Turned out to just be throwing my passport at the hole in the officer's window.

So it's four hours later, and I'm just out about $25: $16 for the visa, $9 to get a random bus company to take me to Damascus. (ed note: actually, I was out another $60. Visas could only be paid for by US dollars or Syrian pounds; some naive sense of a Traveler's Code or compassion compelled me to lend the Norwegian and Australian money for their visas, trusting that they'd use my email address to contact me in the future and pay me back. Small part of me hopes they one day remember, but I'm not holding my breath) Pretty sure I won't be making it to Jordan tonight; I definitely won't make it to Petra. But I got across the border without much hassle. I just wish I'd brought a book to read--the iPod's almost out of batteries from playing Solitaire.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 3:00 PM (0) comments

 
Syria: Stage 3
My bus has left, not wanting to wait for my passport issues. I think the driver was trying to tell me I could get on another bus that comes through at 1pm, but I'm not really sure.

The Norwegian and Australian were processed, no problem. I think maybe my mistake was saying I was passing through to Jordan, when he asked where I was staying, because the officer sighed and appeared annoyed, as if I just invalidated his paperwork.

Anyway, I'm sitting in a cavernous immigration hall, at the border of two countries whose languages I don't speak, passport out of my custody, and I'm just waiting. Hopefully, if I wait long enough, someone will come with my passport in hand, telling me I'm all set. Or, more likely, pointing toward the exit and making a shooing motion.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 10:41 AM (1) comments

 
Syria: Stage 2
The primary tourist annoyance in Turkey is that people frequently give me wrong times. I figure some of it is language-related, that they get numbers in English mixed up sometimes. But if you tell me the bus is at 8, but it's really 8:30 (or, at 8:30, that we'll be leaving in "five minutes"), that's no innocent mistake.

But in my defense, the man was really hot. You would've said "yes" to his salt and pepper hair, beard, his V-shaped back, and his butt-licious, straight-leg jeans, too.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 8:54 AM (0) comments

 
Syria: Stage 1
I've just handed my passport and 10 Turkish lira to the irst man who asked me if I'm going to Aleppo. He says the visa isn't a problem, and that my passport will be on the bus. This is the start of something awesome or comically tragic.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 7:32 AM (0) comments

 
Italian Tourists
Why would you be shouting at a site the government forced citizens to relocate from due to structural instability? With obvious cave-ins roped off?

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 10:19 AM (0) comments

 
A Pass Through Antalya
Hey, Lonely Planet, how about instead of "you can take the same bus back to the bus station, bu take a taxi if you're in a rush," you tell me "you can take the same bus back to the station, but because the route is a loop, what took 30 minutes going into the city will take you an hour coming back out." I mean, I budgeted extra time, but not that much, and I caught my bus with about four minutes to spare.

Speaking of which, this is my first overnight bus of the trip; approximately a week and a half in. Hopefully, my inabiliy to stay awake on buses (and trains, for that matter), will work out in my favor.

I guess it's a Turkish thing to sit with a wide stance and invade personal space, but I'm trying to maintain the high from my first hamam experience (I am going to try to skip meals so I can bathe exclusively at hamams), so I'll try to not sweat it.

The oil massage was probably the most action I'll see these for weeks.

Addendum: he just changed to an empty row. Based on his tone of voice and facial expression, I think he said something along the lines of "let me move over there; no sense being crowded!"

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 8:50 PM (0) comments

 
Might Join a Cult/Commune
I'm currently at a roadside restaurant, a stopping point for regional buses, about 7km from where I want to be. And no more local buses are running there, so I'm going to have to divert to a town with service still running.

This is what I don't like about the Lonely Planet I'm using. It mentioned bus times, so I knew I'd arrive here too late, but it didn't mmention distances or provide a useable scale map. It's these little things that bother me. And it frequently provides inconsistent information. For example, under City A, it may specify travel times to City B, and return times from City B. But you look under City B, and the duration is slightly different, and the departure times don't match. To the extent possible, I think I'll stick with Let's Go. They're pretty much as replete with information and recommendations, but I also appreciate their "picks." It's good for someone who can be indecisive, to have a default choice when serveral sound appealing.

But I suppose it gives me time to write and kvetch. Oh, and I'm sorry about the transcription delays, but Turkish keyboards vary significantly from the US, so typing is a real chore. The letter i, the period, the apostrophe, and the comma are all located in unexpected places.

I've come here from Faralya, my destination after Selçuk. I stayed at a place called George House, which is remarkably close to what I imagine paradise to be like. The town is located up on a cliff, facing west (making for beautiful sunsets), and while accessible by road, it's not a road that goes anywhere important, so it's quiet and feels remote. George House has a series of bungalows and cabins, and it epitomizes what I think Faralya once was. Before the road was put in, the village had to be self-sufficient, since it had no practical land or sea access to neighboring towns. On the George House property, there is a natural spring, which appears to fulfill all of its water needs. Some has been diverted to its pool, and they have drinking water constantly available, free of charge.

They also grow a fair share of produce; the outdoor dining area is shaded by overgrown grape vines.

Honestly, it's just so peaceful and calm. I kind of wish I'd stayed for another night, but I guess I'm still worrioed about missing out on stuff. Bird in tree.

From George's, there's a path down the side of the cliff. It's incredibly steep, and it requires use of the rope guide to get up and down in spots. At the bottom is Butterfly Valley, home to Jersey butterflies. Unfortunately, their high season is spring, so I missed out on seeing swarms. I asked about the path when I arrived, about 5:30pm, but the manager said it was too late to go down; it takes about 45 minutes in either direction (going down isn't any faster, because of the steepness). He suggested another walk I might take, so I went to drop my things in the cabin. But when I came back, it turned out another guy was just about to go down to the valley (and beach).

Phonetically, his name's Christopher, but he's German, and I'm not really sure how he spells it. About ten years ago, he met some young Turks on a train in Germany, and they told him about Faralya. He decided to visit it, and he's been coming back every year. Most recently, he quit his job back in January, and he's been travelling ever since; he's been at George House for the last few weeks. He's now "helping out" there. Anyway, suffice it to say, he knows the path extremely well (though it's also well marked), so I decided to follow him down. Apparently, he goes down for a swim every day, just a bit before sunset.

This decision turned out to be a mistake. He practically ran down the path, and I'm sure he was slowing down for my benefit. It took us maybe 15-20 minutes to get down. I just gave up on the way back up; I was about to heave a lung out.

The beach was amazing. It was a pebble beach, and the water felt like it was over 75 deg. F. I'm a wimp for cold water, and I went straight in.

I also went down to the valley the next morning, but I instead opted for the small nearby waterfall. It was there I spotted the butterflies. The underside of their wings are a beautiful orange, but they would mostly hide on rocks, with folded wings, exposing only the dingy black and white exterior.

When I got to the falls, I thought it was the destination, but I noticed a rope going up the side, frequently passing through the water itself. Maybe it wasn't the safest decision, but I just had to go up. The view wasn't any more impressive, but I got to climb up a waterfall. Totally worth it--since I am neither dead nor maimed.

I really don't see the beach getting over-developped. There's a campsite (or "pretentious hippies," according to Christopher), but it's pretty much impossible to get to by land, except for the path, and I think getting a road down would be an engineering marvel. There's also a water taxi, but I'm hoping development is practically limited. I'd definitely like to get back there some day. Hopefully the path down improves, though! The rocks are fairly slippery, polished over time by hiker's shoes.

Okay, I'm burning moonlight. My entire purpose of coming down here was to see the Chimera at night, so I better get to it. And now that I'm ina dierent town than planned, the walk's considerably longer. Here's to not getting lost and dying!

Labels: bar trip, Faralya (TR)

- posted by roger @ 9:53 PM (0) comments

 
Just Backgammon
"What are you looking for?"

He approached, and I shrugged.

"Nothing?" He smiled.

"Yeah, I guess nothing really."

He made small talk, asking if I was traveling alone. My suspicion was aroused, so I lied. I shifted my backpack from arm to arm, unsure of whether he had a cohort behind me.

But he turned out to be harmless. I learned he had just started university, studying mathematics. The fact that he was studying such an academic topic (as opposed to practical) at a private university put me at ease--he probably had no need for anything from me. He was on summer break, helping at his cousin's store, which we stood next to, and his parents' carpet store across the street. He offered me some tea.

I took a hesitant breath, and I said sure--I really had nowhere to be. We walked into his cousin's store, where his cousin was already talking with two Australian women. The women soon left to try some lunch place recommended by the cousin, but not before accepting his offer to come back for dinner. The young man who approached me also invited me to dinner. While I was sure that would be the more interesting option, I'd already told the hostel that morning that I would attend their BBQ, so I regrettably declined his invite.

Somehow, the conversation turned to backgammon, which I've recently learned on my Nokia. We played a couple games, and I was wallopped. He offered that he'd been playing for ten years.

The conversation turned to music, and we traded band names. He asked if we could go download some of the Shins. I actually had my iPod USB cord, so I plugged into his laptop (ed.- that's what she said). I pulled a few files onto his desktop.

The conversation continued quite easily, and I was glad I'd accepted his offer of tea. I just kind of wish the story stopped here. But I asked about the carpets, just to show an interest, and I think at some point he mistook my curiosity for being interested in buying one. And I would've been fine correcting this impression--I felt comfortable enough--but his brother came along, and he started giving me the hard sell.

I tried to explain that they really didn't suit my tastes; I find the colors kind of drab, and the patterns feel kind of stuffy. I really couldn't imagine owning one. But I didn't know how to explain this clearly enough without being insulting.

There's also the matter of money--I have barly enough to cover this trip and first and last months' rent, even factoring credit cards--and I really wasn't about to use my small sum of disposable income on a Turkish rug unless I happened to love it.

Eventually, I just had to ask what time it was and pretend I was late to be somewhere.

The young man, whose name I never got, told me as I left to come by some time if I wanted to play some backgammon.

I got on the bus the next day a little sad, but what can you do.

Labels: bar trip, Selçuk (TR)

- posted by roger @ 10:15 PM (0) comments

 
Tidying Up
Okay. Git 'er done.

So Delos was amazing. I highly recommend it. It's a small island near Mykonos, and its ruins are very extensive. One of the best aspects is that it's not very busy, so it's great for some secluded exploration.

Sorry, I feel like my language is stilted because I cna't help half-listening to the table next to me. We've just had dinner, and I'm now drinking tea made from leaves that a Turkish guy here picked. I sort of missed the name of it, since it was Turkish. He said it meant something-island chai. It's quite fragrant.

Anyway, I don't really know what to say about Delos, now that I'm chock full of other subsequent memories.

Mykonos Town was nice. It's very much a resort town, but quite appealing. The streets are maybe 6 to 10 feet across, and they crisscross at all sorts of angles. Apparently, they were designed to confused marauders, but they operate to slow tourists down. It's nice, because you can't really try to get anywhere; you just go.

I did end up making it briefly to Super Paradise Beach, but it was a let down. The wind was so strong that lying on the beach was kind of painful, with the flying sand. Plus, it was neither more gay nor more nude than Paradise Beach. So I didn't get to sunbathe nude. I did strip down to my briefs, though. In my defense, I think I would have done it, but no guys were nude. The extent of it was a handful of topless women.

That night, I made it to some bars, but I was exhausted. I had two birds in hand, but they were tourists, and I was really after, you know, Greeks. So I ended up with nothing. But the meat market was incredible--all but impossible to move. But by that point, in a huge crowd on a tiny street with sweat and smoke in the air, I got close to vomiting. Well, also I'd had a gin and tonic (which tasted great). So I left Mykonos getting no action, which probably means no action for my entire trip, given where I'm headed.

One weird thing I've encountered on this trip is that everyone seems to be traveling for much longer than me--generally for over a year. Kind of insane. I really thought 4 weeks was kind of long! Maybe it's an American thing to not take traveling sabbaticals; I really haven't met many Americans so far.

Anyway, so I went from Mykonos to Selçuk, connecting through Samos and Kuşadasi. Selçuk was a nice little town. I stayed at a place called Australian New Zealand Guest House. The staff was a great resource, but my mattress was terrible--all springs. Interestingly though, all the other travelers were staying in rooms, so I was the only one in the dorm.

It was just around the corner from Ephesus. Ephesus was impressive--especially the restored façade of the Library of Celsus--but I think the take-away was that going early to beat crowds simply does not work. The better strategy seems to be late afternoon. But now I feel kind of over ruins now. At least Greco-Roman.

Ooh, souvenirs. I've been foolishly buying breakables. At Ephesus, there's a mini souvenir tourist trap, where I Picked up some small bowls. I think I overpaid, but they're hand-painted. And I don't think they look like typical tourist schlock--you'd only know if you went to Turkey and saw them at all the stores. ...or if I just told you.

Wandering around Selçuk, I met a ceramics teacher, selling her wares. She may have been lying, but she emphasized how she painted everything herself, didn't copy designs from anyone/anything, and made her own shade of blue paint. Apparently, the French coined the term "turquoise" after visiting Turkey and seeing their extensive use of turquoise. So I bought two circular turquoise plates for my mom, with a raised design, painted two shades of blue. But I kind of want to keep them.

In Mykonos, I spent about $200 on three glass panels. They're curved so they stand upright, and they could conceivably be placed in front of votive candles (but I'll probably stand them alone). The perimeters are a reddish orange, with flecks of gold leaf. There are black trees painted on the front, with flecks of black and orange on the back, like leaves (all three pieces are the same design, but I got one big and two small). It's autumnal, and it's kind of redder than what I was hoping to use in my future kitchen, but I'm hoping to put them there.

Okay, break.

Labels: bar trip, Delos (GR), Mykonos (GR), Selçuk (TR)

- posted by roger @ 9:43 PM (0) comments

 
Or Maybe It's Me
I think I'm now three days behind--I'm never going to catch up.

So I'm on a coach right now, and I think the old guy I'm sitting next to is kind of an entitled asshole.

I got on the bus first, and I found my seat by number. It was an aisle, and the window seat was empty. A couple minutes later, my neighbor got on the bus, looked at the seat numbers, and motioned toward the window seat. I got up to let him in, but he didn't get in. He spoke, but all I could respond with was that I didn't understand. The young man in the row ahead of us indicated I should sit in the window seat. Okay, fine.

I sort of chalked this up to a misunderstanding on his part about seats, since the label and my ticket were both clear. But as the conductor came around to check our destinations, the old man laughed and pointed at me while talking to the conductor, who smiled. I don't know what was said, but I'm pretty sure he knows he swindled me out of my seat.

Even if he didn't, even if it was my mistake, he reached over to close the curtains next to me. And told the man in front of me to close his. Fucker, I'm the one in the window seat. If you want to regulate sunlight, you don't sit on the aisle.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 10:54 AM (0) comments

 
Introversion and Eggplants
It occurred to me that I'm sending a lot of time in transit. Today, I sent about 5 hours on boats (and that was the fast service), plus getting to/from stations and waiting for transfers, it took about 9h total. I guess part of it was also having to go through immigration on both sides of the water. Part of me enjoys it--at least when I'm on the open deck. It's a good chance to collect and reflect, and it's not a weird circumstance for me to be alone (compared with being in a restaurant). But then I also feel like maybe I'm wasting time. I don't know.

Anyway, I'm now in Selçuk, Turkey, my jumping off oint for Ephesus (Efes) in the morning.

I had an amazing aubergine salad tonight. There was oil & vinegar, parsely, garlic, and peppers. There was more, but I couldn't pick it out. And I don't know if the eggplants were pre-cooked, but they were so deliciously fleshy. As someone who usually dislikes eggplant, I don't know why I haven't been eating Turkish all my life (I know that didn't really make sense). Or Greek, for that matter.

Okay, bugs are killing me. Must shower. Resume later.

Labels: bar trip

- posted by roger @ 10:06 PM (0) comments