Friday, October 31, 2008
Finally! My pictures!
These are only the pictures I took with my camera, which means there are some serious gaps since I relied on Kristen and Michael a lot. But here you go! You can click on the slideshow if you'd rather just look at them online yourself too.
Yay Europe!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Croatia and Italy with an unexpected delay in Zagreb
So, we made it to Dubrovnik quite easily, as it's only a 2 hour bus ride from Kotor. As we crossed into Bosnia-Herzegovina, and then again into Croatia, it occurred to me that we might have had a bit of trouble getting across two borders in our rental car. Perhaps we made the right decision about that Madonna concert after all.
When we stepped off the bus at the station in Dubrovnik, we were as usual greeted by a throng of people renting sobe in their homes. This was probably my favorite sobe-renting experience. We had been through the ropes by now, so we knew which questions to ask: Is it in the old city? Is there a kitchen? Do we have to share a bathroom? We got to talking with this old stout woman who spoke some English, and assured us that her place was the best. Then there was the question of price. As it was now halfway through the trip, I was starting to become a little alarmed by the fact that we had already spent more than half my money. Especially considering we were now entering more expensive territory. So we were on the prowl for cheap- like, 10 euros a night. But we quickly realized Dubrovnik was just too touristy, and that wasn't going to happen in the center. So we thought, ok, 15 euro each, which would translate to a 200 kuna room. We could do that. So we went back and forth and back and forth with this squat little woman, who unfortunately remained nameless, and finally the young girl turned to us and said, "Ok, 200 kuna." So we were off.
Getting to this woman's house was an ordeal, and wasn't made any easier by the fact that we had our enormous backpacks (which of course had only become more enormous over the course of the past weeks). We had to take the tram, then walk into the old city and weave through alleys and finally up about 200 stairs. The woman was huffing and puffing like crazy, and clinging to the walls as she went. And I thought to myself, how the hell does she do this every day? She looks like she's about to die! Finally we arrived at her home, shimmied our way up a narrow staircase, and threw our bags down in a tiny but pleasant double room. She showed us a map, and the bathroom, and let us get settled for a few minutes. And then I said, "We should pay you now?" And she said yes. And I said, "200 kuna?" And her face went blank.
See this is my favorite part about Croatians. And it happened everywhere we went in Croatia. When you ask a question that people either don't care to answer or deem too dumb to answer, they'll stare at you as if all of their skills in the English language have suddenly been zapped away. Or as if you're speaking Martian. So I tried, Lord knows I tried. But that bitch would not budge until she had 300 kuna in her hand. And at one point I thought about getting up and going back down all those god-awful stairs. But Kristen looked at me and said, "It's going to be 300 anywhere we go." And I knew she was right. I'm still pissed she got that extra hundred kuna though.
Anyway, Dubrovnik is a beautiful city. Very touristy though, more touristy than anywhere else we had been. It's funny because Dubrovnik was one of the destinations that I was most excited about when we left for the trip. And it was great, but it was other unexpected things in Croatia that really caught my eye. For instance, the islands on the horizon that looked like they had been dolloped onto he water by a spoon from above. It was rainy and we had run out of time to go to the Islands, but oh what a sight. And the drive from Dubrovnik to Split that we made the next day was one of the more stunning things I've ever seen. The Dalmatian coastline really is, as Lord Byron said, "the pearl of the Adriatic."
So the plan was to catch an overnight train from Split to Zagreb, and then a morning train from Zagreb to Venice. Our overnight leg was REALLY uncomfortable. The sleeper cars were sold out, or maybe I just didn't want to pay, but we wound up sharing a six person compartment with one older Croatian couple who felt they were entitled to take up four seats. And even after the woman snapped at me for putting my shoes up on the seat, she and her husband took off their shoes and put their smelly feet in our faces. Awesome. Needless to say, we didn't arrive refreshed in Zagreb.
So we wandered into the train station and up to the international ticket booth, and waited our turn. When we got to the front, we asked the woman for two reservations on the 7 am train to Venice. She looked up sharply and said, "No morning train. Only 23:35." And we said, "What?? Our Eurail timetable tells us there's a train at 7:20 am?" And she got that blank look that the Croatians get when they don't want to deal with you, and said, "Only 23:35."
Dammit. So for the second time in as many days, Kristen and I sat down and had to rethink our plan. Should we walk all the way to the bus station to see if we could get to Italy that way? Should we skip Italy altogether since the train was rerouted to Munich anyway, and Munich was our next destination? (That was not actually an option, as my original excuse for coming to Europe was to visit my brother in Padua.) Ultimately, we had no choice but to wait in Zagreb until the 11:35 pm train. And even though we were trying to save money, we figured there was no way we could do back to back overnight trains without getting some sleep during the day. So we walked to the tourist center and booked a room with this cute little French-speaking woman. (It was exciting to get to speak French with someone, since it's the only European language I actually speak and we weren't going to France.) So here is what our day in Zagreb consisted of:
-walking around the city and the main square- much of Zagreb is seeable in a day
-buying sweaters and boots since it was cheap and we were cold
-sleeping and taking showers at the French woman's house
-eating amazing Croatian sandwiches at this little stand called Pingvin
-seeing a play! We happened to land in Zagreb on a Friday during the Zagreb International Theatre Festival. I know, pretty cool. And even though this Flemish production of Antigone was not exactly my bag, how awesome to be able to say that I saw theatre with all the culture snobs of Zagreb.
All in all, not too bad for an unexpected day.
The next morning we arrived in Venice surprisingly quite refreshed. We had actually had a comfortable sleeper car from Zagreb to Venice! My bro, David, came to meet us in Venice and help us get back to Padua, but we figured since we were in Venice, we might as well walk through San Marco Piazza. BIG mistake. Can I say something actually? I kinda hate Venice. It's nothing but huge crowds of tourists, pigeons that shit everywhere, and convoluted streets to get claustrophobic and lost in. And honestly, I usually like getting lost. But not in Venice. I mean, for the love of God, it took us THREE HOURS to make a simple loop through the city. And yes, it's beautiful, and yes we got some nice pictures. But having been there twice now, I don't mind if I never go back to Venice. Seriously.
Padua, or Padova as the locals call it, is only 30 minutes from Venice, but a whole different place. I loved walking around the calm city with Dav, and meeting his study abroad friends. There's really nothing to do but eat there, so on our first day, we had lunch, had dinner, got gelato, and sat in the square to drink a Spritz. Not a bad day.
My second evening in Padua though, was my favorite, because David's host family invited me to have dinner with them. It was a group of 11: David, me, David's host parents, brother and grandmother, and then David's friend Elise, and her host parents and siblings (Dav's host father and Elise's host father are twins, hence the connection). I mean, how cool to sit around a table eating home cooked food while Italians gesture emphatically. Everyone engaged me a bit with English, but even when they slipped back into Italian, I swear I understood at least 50% of what they were saying. Italians are inherently theatrical, which is something I understand, and the commonality of Italian and French made it easy to follow. I don't even really remember what we talked about that night, but oh was it good conversation and good food! I'm so happy that David is so well taken care of there.
But alas, every good thing must come to an end. And we had to get to Munich. Michael Schwartz was arriving on a plane at 8:10 am Monday morning. And Oktoberfest 2008 was calling our name. So we we boarded our last overnight train of the trip (THANK GOD) and tried to sleep as we raced over the countryside into Germany.
When we stepped off the bus at the station in Dubrovnik, we were as usual greeted by a throng of people renting sobe in their homes. This was probably my favorite sobe-renting experience. We had been through the ropes by now, so we knew which questions to ask: Is it in the old city? Is there a kitchen? Do we have to share a bathroom? We got to talking with this old stout woman who spoke some English, and assured us that her place was the best. Then there was the question of price. As it was now halfway through the trip, I was starting to become a little alarmed by the fact that we had already spent more than half my money. Especially considering we were now entering more expensive territory. So we were on the prowl for cheap- like, 10 euros a night. But we quickly realized Dubrovnik was just too touristy, and that wasn't going to happen in the center. So we thought, ok, 15 euro each, which would translate to a 200 kuna room. We could do that. So we went back and forth and back and forth with this squat little woman, who unfortunately remained nameless, and finally the young girl turned to us and said, "Ok, 200 kuna." So we were off.
Getting to this woman's house was an ordeal, and wasn't made any easier by the fact that we had our enormous backpacks (which of course had only become more enormous over the course of the past weeks). We had to take the tram, then walk into the old city and weave through alleys and finally up about 200 stairs. The woman was huffing and puffing like crazy, and clinging to the walls as she went. And I thought to myself, how the hell does she do this every day? She looks like she's about to die! Finally we arrived at her home, shimmied our way up a narrow staircase, and threw our bags down in a tiny but pleasant double room. She showed us a map, and the bathroom, and let us get settled for a few minutes. And then I said, "We should pay you now?" And she said yes. And I said, "200 kuna?" And her face went blank.
See this is my favorite part about Croatians. And it happened everywhere we went in Croatia. When you ask a question that people either don't care to answer or deem too dumb to answer, they'll stare at you as if all of their skills in the English language have suddenly been zapped away. Or as if you're speaking Martian. So I tried, Lord knows I tried. But that bitch would not budge until she had 300 kuna in her hand. And at one point I thought about getting up and going back down all those god-awful stairs. But Kristen looked at me and said, "It's going to be 300 anywhere we go." And I knew she was right. I'm still pissed she got that extra hundred kuna though.
Anyway, Dubrovnik is a beautiful city. Very touristy though, more touristy than anywhere else we had been. It's funny because Dubrovnik was one of the destinations that I was most excited about when we left for the trip. And it was great, but it was other unexpected things in Croatia that really caught my eye. For instance, the islands on the horizon that looked like they had been dolloped onto he water by a spoon from above. It was rainy and we had run out of time to go to the Islands, but oh what a sight. And the drive from Dubrovnik to Split that we made the next day was one of the more stunning things I've ever seen. The Dalmatian coastline really is, as Lord Byron said, "the pearl of the Adriatic."
So the plan was to catch an overnight train from Split to Zagreb, and then a morning train from Zagreb to Venice. Our overnight leg was REALLY uncomfortable. The sleeper cars were sold out, or maybe I just didn't want to pay, but we wound up sharing a six person compartment with one older Croatian couple who felt they were entitled to take up four seats. And even after the woman snapped at me for putting my shoes up on the seat, she and her husband took off their shoes and put their smelly feet in our faces. Awesome. Needless to say, we didn't arrive refreshed in Zagreb.
So we wandered into the train station and up to the international ticket booth, and waited our turn. When we got to the front, we asked the woman for two reservations on the 7 am train to Venice. She looked up sharply and said, "No morning train. Only 23:35." And we said, "What?? Our Eurail timetable tells us there's a train at 7:20 am?" And she got that blank look that the Croatians get when they don't want to deal with you, and said, "Only 23:35."
Dammit. So for the second time in as many days, Kristen and I sat down and had to rethink our plan. Should we walk all the way to the bus station to see if we could get to Italy that way? Should we skip Italy altogether since the train was rerouted to Munich anyway, and Munich was our next destination? (That was not actually an option, as my original excuse for coming to Europe was to visit my brother in Padua.) Ultimately, we had no choice but to wait in Zagreb until the 11:35 pm train. And even though we were trying to save money, we figured there was no way we could do back to back overnight trains without getting some sleep during the day. So we walked to the tourist center and booked a room with this cute little French-speaking woman. (It was exciting to get to speak French with someone, since it's the only European language I actually speak and we weren't going to France.) So here is what our day in Zagreb consisted of:
-walking around the city and the main square- much of Zagreb is seeable in a day
-buying sweaters and boots since it was cheap and we were cold
-sleeping and taking showers at the French woman's house
-eating amazing Croatian sandwiches at this little stand called Pingvin
-seeing a play! We happened to land in Zagreb on a Friday during the Zagreb International Theatre Festival. I know, pretty cool. And even though this Flemish production of Antigone was not exactly my bag, how awesome to be able to say that I saw theatre with all the culture snobs of Zagreb.
All in all, not too bad for an unexpected day.
The next morning we arrived in Venice surprisingly quite refreshed. We had actually had a comfortable sleeper car from Zagreb to Venice! My bro, David, came to meet us in Venice and help us get back to Padua, but we figured since we were in Venice, we might as well walk through San Marco Piazza. BIG mistake. Can I say something actually? I kinda hate Venice. It's nothing but huge crowds of tourists, pigeons that shit everywhere, and convoluted streets to get claustrophobic and lost in. And honestly, I usually like getting lost. But not in Venice. I mean, for the love of God, it took us THREE HOURS to make a simple loop through the city. And yes, it's beautiful, and yes we got some nice pictures. But having been there twice now, I don't mind if I never go back to Venice. Seriously.
Padua, or Padova as the locals call it, is only 30 minutes from Venice, but a whole different place. I loved walking around the calm city with Dav, and meeting his study abroad friends. There's really nothing to do but eat there, so on our first day, we had lunch, had dinner, got gelato, and sat in the square to drink a Spritz. Not a bad day.
My second evening in Padua though, was my favorite, because David's host family invited me to have dinner with them. It was a group of 11: David, me, David's host parents, brother and grandmother, and then David's friend Elise, and her host parents and siblings (Dav's host father and Elise's host father are twins, hence the connection). I mean, how cool to sit around a table eating home cooked food while Italians gesture emphatically. Everyone engaged me a bit with English, but even when they slipped back into Italian, I swear I understood at least 50% of what they were saying. Italians are inherently theatrical, which is something I understand, and the commonality of Italian and French made it easy to follow. I don't even really remember what we talked about that night, but oh was it good conversation and good food! I'm so happy that David is so well taken care of there.
But alas, every good thing must come to an end. And we had to get to Munich. Michael Schwartz was arriving on a plane at 8:10 am Monday morning. And Oktoberfest 2008 was calling our name. So we we boarded our last overnight train of the trip (THANK GOD) and tried to sleep as we raced over the countryside into Germany.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
NOW, and then Montenegro and our failed attempt to see Madonna
So I've created this weird split-world thing now, where I'm sitting here today, on Oct. 23 in my Los Angeles apartment, and pretending to be in Montenegro, where I was over a month ago. I guess that's what I get for giving up on my blog and then deciding to pick back up where I left off. The result is sufficiently confusing, both for you and for me. But I'm sorry, because before we get back to Europe, I have to report some amazing news that I received yesterday.
I have been awarded this year's Mike Ockrent Fellowship through the SSDC (Society of Stage Directors and Choreographers). The fellowship is giving me the opportunity to assist and observe director/choreographer Casey Nicholaw on a new Broadway musical called Minsky's. Casey is someone I really admire- he choreographed Spamalot and directed/choreographed The Drowsy Chaperone. I am REALLY excited about this. The whole application process for the job went on while I was traveling through Europe, and by the time I had returned home and not heard anything, I assumed that I hadn't gotten the job. But then two days ago, I got a call about an interview. And yesterday, after about ten minutes of chatting on the phone with Casey, he said "Well, alright Elissa, let's consider it done." I said, "Wait, what?" And he said, "Yup, consider it done."
So excited. And even better: now that I've gotten the job, I know what I'm doing for the next few months. Which was a big fat question mark until 4:30 pm yesterday. Here's my plan: I'll be in LA until mid-November. I'll probably stay through the Ovation Awards on the 17th, and then leave town on the 18th to drive up to my parents house and drop off my car. Then I'll fly to New York City, and from Nov. 24 through the holidays we'll be rehearsing in NY. BUT, the show is doing its pre-Broadway run here in Los Angeles. So on Jan. 4, we'll transfer the whole company out here to LA, and I'll be back here working on the show in January and February. And then I'll have to figure out what I'm doing after that. (Get a job and make some money....???) But hey, I'm 23. Please don't force me to live more than a couple months ahead at a time, ok? And please- let me stay broke if I want to. I like being a poor starving artist. Living the dream.
SO that's that. And now onto...or rather, back to the Balkans (doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo):
Montenegro
So, after a lovely one-day stay in Ohrid, Kristen and I climbed onto our overnight bus that was going to take us through Albania and up to Montenegro. Now, of all the journeys that we were going to undertake during our vacation, this was that one that we had been most cautioned about. Online message boards, travel agents, and the Greek guys had all told us to beware of traveling through Albania. So we expected the worst. We walked up onto the bus with our money belts strapped around our waists, our ipods and cameras buried deep in our backpacks, and our bladders drained of all fluid (these overnight buses don't have bathrooms, and you never know when they're going to stop). But I am sad to report, that aside from the smelly men sitting behind me, and the anticipatory mild panic attack that I suffered during the first half hour on the bus (I quickly squelched it with a Dramamine), the bus ride was entirely without event. And in the morning, we wound down off the steep cliffs of Montenegro and were greeted with the most spectacular view of the Bay of Kotor.
We had no hostel reservations, because we figured that we would be greeted by people offering sobe, rooms in their home. But, when we stepped off the bus, there were no such people around. So Kristen and I decided to walk towards the city in search of accomodations. We had gone about 10 feet when a man stepped out from behind a taxi and said with a very thick accent, "You need a room?" We replied yes, and within a minute we were in his car and he was telling us that his daughter Mirella was a travel agent. He said something about "Free" and kept repeating the phrase "Excellent tourist destination." Over and over and over. Kristen and I weren't exactly at our sprightliest, having just stepped off an overnight bus, so this man was a little much to handle. But if we thought he was intense....
Well, Mirella took the cake. This was the loudest, brashest woman I've ever met. No American could possibly be like her. As her father stood at the stove making us coffee, she was thrusting shiny brochures into our faces, and making a list of all the things we needed to do during our ONE DAY in Kotor. She asked me my name and proceeded to address a whole speech to me, completely ignoring the fact that Kristen was sitting right next to me. "Well, Ah-lee-sah, there are many beautiful things to see in Montenegro, and Ah-lee-sah, we are in Prcanj, and you need to see these islands Ah-lee-sah...." Ah! It was just too much to handle, especially when she plopped her guest book onto the table and started telling us all the wonderful things people had said about staying in the apartment next to her house. She also wrote out directions for us to everywhere we needed to go, and told us that we should take the 8:30 am bus to Dubrovnik the next morning..."There is an 8:30 am bus and a 2:45 pm bus, but Ah-lee-sah, you should take the 8:30 bus, because if you stay longer here you must pay more." Speaking of which....not free. Of course not free, I figured that much. But she wanted to charge us 15 euros each for the room, and when she realized we were about to stand up and leave she said "Ok, ok. 10 euro each. Very good price." And her father added "Excellent tourist destination."
So we went to our room, took a nap, and then spent the afternoon climbing the ancient city of Kotor. Now, why Kotor, you ask? How did you even hear of it? Well the answer to that is, I read about Kotor a couple of months before we left on the trip in Conde Nast magazine. Yup. There was a Conde Nast sitting on top of my roommate's toilet, and as I settled in I said to myself, I wonder if there's anything good in here? And that's when I read that the ancient city of Kotor is topped by a fortress, and the whole thing is built on a steep hill. The pictures were stunning so I decided we should make a stop in Kotor. I swear, some of the best discoveries in life are made on the toilet.
So, I digress. The hike was stunning. I can't really describe the Balkan coastline. It would take at least a thousand words. So here's a photo to do the job:
Kotor rocks. It's amazing. You can see that. What doesn't rock is Mirella, and I'll tell you why. The next morning, when we woke up to catch our bus, her father offered to give us a ride around the bay back to the bus station. But as we were pulling out of his driveway, the man in the little shop next door stopped him and pointed to his tire. It turns out we had a flat tire. However, rather than going back up the driveway to get one of his three other cars, Mirella's father tried to keep driving. "Five minutes, it will be ok." But about 100 yards later, he pulled off the road to fix the tire. Not ok I guess. So this man is running around the car grabbing the jack and then wrenching the spare out from the bottom of his trunk, and rushing to get all of this done because our bus is leaving in 15 minutes. It was ridiculous. And when he finally got it done, we still had to stop on the way because he owed us change from our 50 euro bill for paying for the room. So he pulls over next to a little hut, goes running out, comes back and hands Kristen 25 euros. She looked down and then up again and said "But, you owe us 30." And he replied "Taxi ride. 5 euro. Very good price."
A 5 euro taxi ride so we could watch his ass bob up and down as he changed his tire? I'm sorry, WTF?? But we looked at each other and thought fuck it, we need to catch this bus. So a minute later he drops us at the bus station, and we run inside to buy our tickets.
"Hello, we'd like two tickets for the 8:30 am bus to Dubrovnik."
"No bus at 8:30. Only at 2:45."
"Wait, what? Our host told us 8:30."
No response. And then the chick looks down, writes something on a piece of paper, and holds it up in our face. It said:
"2:45."
Thanks.
MIRELLA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Agh!!!!!!!!!!! We hate you!!!!!!
Now see, this created a problem. In a fit of madness the night before, Kristen and I had purchased standing room tickets to the Madonna concert in Budva, a Montenegrin town about 20 minutes away. Ever since we had gotten into the vicinity, locals kept asking us if we were here to see Madonna. We kept saying no. I can see her anytime at the Kabbalah Center on Robertson anyway. But finally one tzochke seller in Kotor told us that tickets were only 35 euro, and they weren't sold out. And we decided it would be AMAZING to see a Madonna concert in Montenegro. But now we had a problem. Today was Wednesday, and we needed to be in Italy no later than Saturday morning to see my brother. But we also wanted-needed-had come all this way to go to Croatia. So our plan was that we would go up to Dubrovnik Wednesday morning, spend all day, rent a car and drive back down to Budva on Thursday, see the Madonna concert, and then drive up to Split, Croatia on Friday in time to catch an afternoon train to Zagreb which would connect with an overnight train to Venice. Complicated?
Yes. So much so that this little adjustment threw a big wrench into our plans. We sat in the car rental place trying to figure out other options. I even have a page in my journal entitled "The Madonna Question" with four different possible scenarios. But when it came down to it, it was just too expensive to make it both to Croatia and back down to the concert. And there wasn't enough time.
I went back to the bank where we bought our tickets, and tried to sell them back. I was able to sell mine, but Kristen's was ripped so she was out of luck, they wouldn't take it. Who could we sell this ticket to? We hoisted our heavy backpacks up and walked across the square to an internet cafe.
It was our luck that we happened to sit down next to a Serbian high stakes poker player. Milos, as he is called, was playing online Hold Em, but was nonchalant enough that he could engage us in a chat. When we asked him if he wanted our ticket, to our delight and surprise he said yes! Subsequently, we had an awkward drink with Milos and his thug Serbian friends out in the square.
But then, luckily, it was time to go. So we said goodbye. Goodbye to Milos, goodbye to Kotor, goodbye to fucking Mirella and her father, and goodbye to the Madonna concert. We boarded our bus to Dubrovnik and were on our way.
I have been awarded this year's Mike Ockrent Fellowship through the SSDC (Society of Stage Directors and Choreographers). The fellowship is giving me the opportunity to assist and observe director/choreographer Casey Nicholaw on a new Broadway musical called Minsky's. Casey is someone I really admire- he choreographed Spamalot and directed/choreographed The Drowsy Chaperone. I am REALLY excited about this. The whole application process for the job went on while I was traveling through Europe, and by the time I had returned home and not heard anything, I assumed that I hadn't gotten the job. But then two days ago, I got a call about an interview. And yesterday, after about ten minutes of chatting on the phone with Casey, he said "Well, alright Elissa, let's consider it done." I said, "Wait, what?" And he said, "Yup, consider it done."
So excited. And even better: now that I've gotten the job, I know what I'm doing for the next few months. Which was a big fat question mark until 4:30 pm yesterday. Here's my plan: I'll be in LA until mid-November. I'll probably stay through the Ovation Awards on the 17th, and then leave town on the 18th to drive up to my parents house and drop off my car. Then I'll fly to New York City, and from Nov. 24 through the holidays we'll be rehearsing in NY. BUT, the show is doing its pre-Broadway run here in Los Angeles. So on Jan. 4, we'll transfer the whole company out here to LA, and I'll be back here working on the show in January and February. And then I'll have to figure out what I'm doing after that. (Get a job and make some money....???) But hey, I'm 23. Please don't force me to live more than a couple months ahead at a time, ok? And please- let me stay broke if I want to. I like being a poor starving artist. Living the dream.
SO that's that. And now onto...or rather, back to the Balkans (doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo):
Montenegro
So, after a lovely one-day stay in Ohrid, Kristen and I climbed onto our overnight bus that was going to take us through Albania and up to Montenegro. Now, of all the journeys that we were going to undertake during our vacation, this was that one that we had been most cautioned about. Online message boards, travel agents, and the Greek guys had all told us to beware of traveling through Albania. So we expected the worst. We walked up onto the bus with our money belts strapped around our waists, our ipods and cameras buried deep in our backpacks, and our bladders drained of all fluid (these overnight buses don't have bathrooms, and you never know when they're going to stop). But I am sad to report, that aside from the smelly men sitting behind me, and the anticipatory mild panic attack that I suffered during the first half hour on the bus (I quickly squelched it with a Dramamine), the bus ride was entirely without event. And in the morning, we wound down off the steep cliffs of Montenegro and were greeted with the most spectacular view of the Bay of Kotor.
We had no hostel reservations, because we figured that we would be greeted by people offering sobe, rooms in their home. But, when we stepped off the bus, there were no such people around. So Kristen and I decided to walk towards the city in search of accomodations. We had gone about 10 feet when a man stepped out from behind a taxi and said with a very thick accent, "You need a room?" We replied yes, and within a minute we were in his car and he was telling us that his daughter Mirella was a travel agent. He said something about "Free" and kept repeating the phrase "Excellent tourist destination." Over and over and over. Kristen and I weren't exactly at our sprightliest, having just stepped off an overnight bus, so this man was a little much to handle. But if we thought he was intense....
Well, Mirella took the cake. This was the loudest, brashest woman I've ever met. No American could possibly be like her. As her father stood at the stove making us coffee, she was thrusting shiny brochures into our faces, and making a list of all the things we needed to do during our ONE DAY in Kotor. She asked me my name and proceeded to address a whole speech to me, completely ignoring the fact that Kristen was sitting right next to me. "Well, Ah-lee-sah, there are many beautiful things to see in Montenegro, and Ah-lee-sah, we are in Prcanj, and you need to see these islands Ah-lee-sah...." Ah! It was just too much to handle, especially when she plopped her guest book onto the table and started telling us all the wonderful things people had said about staying in the apartment next to her house. She also wrote out directions for us to everywhere we needed to go, and told us that we should take the 8:30 am bus to Dubrovnik the next morning..."There is an 8:30 am bus and a 2:45 pm bus, but Ah-lee-sah, you should take the 8:30 bus, because if you stay longer here you must pay more." Speaking of which....not free. Of course not free, I figured that much. But she wanted to charge us 15 euros each for the room, and when she realized we were about to stand up and leave she said "Ok, ok. 10 euro each. Very good price." And her father added "Excellent tourist destination."
So we went to our room, took a nap, and then spent the afternoon climbing the ancient city of Kotor. Now, why Kotor, you ask? How did you even hear of it? Well the answer to that is, I read about Kotor a couple of months before we left on the trip in Conde Nast magazine. Yup. There was a Conde Nast sitting on top of my roommate's toilet, and as I settled in I said to myself, I wonder if there's anything good in here? And that's when I read that the ancient city of Kotor is topped by a fortress, and the whole thing is built on a steep hill. The pictures were stunning so I decided we should make a stop in Kotor. I swear, some of the best discoveries in life are made on the toilet.
So, I digress. The hike was stunning. I can't really describe the Balkan coastline. It would take at least a thousand words. So here's a photo to do the job:
Kotor rocks. It's amazing. You can see that. What doesn't rock is Mirella, and I'll tell you why. The next morning, when we woke up to catch our bus, her father offered to give us a ride around the bay back to the bus station. But as we were pulling out of his driveway, the man in the little shop next door stopped him and pointed to his tire. It turns out we had a flat tire. However, rather than going back up the driveway to get one of his three other cars, Mirella's father tried to keep driving. "Five minutes, it will be ok." But about 100 yards later, he pulled off the road to fix the tire. Not ok I guess. So this man is running around the car grabbing the jack and then wrenching the spare out from the bottom of his trunk, and rushing to get all of this done because our bus is leaving in 15 minutes. It was ridiculous. And when he finally got it done, we still had to stop on the way because he owed us change from our 50 euro bill for paying for the room. So he pulls over next to a little hut, goes running out, comes back and hands Kristen 25 euros. She looked down and then up again and said "But, you owe us 30." And he replied "Taxi ride. 5 euro. Very good price."
A 5 euro taxi ride so we could watch his ass bob up and down as he changed his tire? I'm sorry, WTF?? But we looked at each other and thought fuck it, we need to catch this bus. So a minute later he drops us at the bus station, and we run inside to buy our tickets.
"Hello, we'd like two tickets for the 8:30 am bus to Dubrovnik."
"No bus at 8:30. Only at 2:45."
"Wait, what? Our host told us 8:30."
No response. And then the chick looks down, writes something on a piece of paper, and holds it up in our face. It said:
"2:45."
Thanks.
MIRELLA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Agh!!!!!!!!!!! We hate you!!!!!!
Now see, this created a problem. In a fit of madness the night before, Kristen and I had purchased standing room tickets to the Madonna concert in Budva, a Montenegrin town about 20 minutes away. Ever since we had gotten into the vicinity, locals kept asking us if we were here to see Madonna. We kept saying no. I can see her anytime at the Kabbalah Center on Robertson anyway. But finally one tzochke seller in Kotor told us that tickets were only 35 euro, and they weren't sold out. And we decided it would be AMAZING to see a Madonna concert in Montenegro. But now we had a problem. Today was Wednesday, and we needed to be in Italy no later than Saturday morning to see my brother. But we also wanted-needed-had come all this way to go to Croatia. So our plan was that we would go up to Dubrovnik Wednesday morning, spend all day, rent a car and drive back down to Budva on Thursday, see the Madonna concert, and then drive up to Split, Croatia on Friday in time to catch an afternoon train to Zagreb which would connect with an overnight train to Venice. Complicated?
Yes. So much so that this little adjustment threw a big wrench into our plans. We sat in the car rental place trying to figure out other options. I even have a page in my journal entitled "The Madonna Question" with four different possible scenarios. But when it came down to it, it was just too expensive to make it both to Croatia and back down to the concert. And there wasn't enough time.
I went back to the bank where we bought our tickets, and tried to sell them back. I was able to sell mine, but Kristen's was ripped so she was out of luck, they wouldn't take it. Who could we sell this ticket to? We hoisted our heavy backpacks up and walked across the square to an internet cafe.
It was our luck that we happened to sit down next to a Serbian high stakes poker player. Milos, as he is called, was playing online Hold Em, but was nonchalant enough that he could engage us in a chat. When we asked him if he wanted our ticket, to our delight and surprise he said yes! Subsequently, we had an awkward drink with Milos and his thug Serbian friends out in the square.
But then, luckily, it was time to go. So we said goodbye. Goodbye to Milos, goodbye to Kotor, goodbye to fucking Mirella and her father, and goodbye to the Madonna concert. We boarded our bus to Dubrovnik and were on our way.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Aren't I terrible at this?
This is Arjeta and I being hippie tree huggers in the Old City of Ohrid in Macedonia (FYROM).
FRIENDS!!!
I'm back in California. Yes, finally. Or maybe, yes, already. As you may have been able to tell, I totally gave up on my blog. This is a thing I feared might happen. Actually hoped might happen. And thus, it did. You see, I do all of my own journaling, which are my personal reflections on my experiences, and which I find very therapeutic. But no, you can't read those, they're mine. Anyway, I was finding it incredibly draining to write about my experiences not once, but twice, and also tiring to cram tons of information into a carefully thought out blog post when I had about 10 minutes of internet time every two days. But perhaps that was self mandated....because I was in EUROPE! I didn't want to be spending my time in an internet cafe. So I said to myself, "It's fine, Elissa, no one reads blogs anyway."
WELL. I have been astonished to have about five of you say to me in the few days since I've been home that you were actually reading my blog, and that you were disappointed when it just stopped. Well now I feel guilty. You see, I have a highly developed sense of Jewish guilt, especially about things that I start and don't finish. Uch. I had contemplated going online this weekend and saying,
Alright guys, these are the lessons I learned: _________________ and I'm sorry, but the blog is over. I hope you enjoyed the little you read!
But oh you loyal, lovely friends. I can't do that to you! You care about my stories and you want to hear them. (If you don't it's ok to stop reading now). So here's the plan: I'm going to pick up where I left off, do a new post every few days, and when I get to the end, this will be over. So, (insert flashback underscore here),
it's Sept. 20, and Kristen and I have just arrived in Ohrid, Macedonia:
But the backstory first: So back in 2005, when I studied abroad at the British American Drama Academy, I spent my week long break in Italy with my friends Tim and Zoe. We began the week in Positano, Italy, a stunning town on the Amalfi coast. We had decided to go to Positano because Zoe had spent two weeks there in a piano conservatory program when she was 16. It also so happens, that when cute little 16-year-old Zoe had stayed in Positano for two weeks, she had fallen in love and had a torrid affair with an Italian 3 years her elder named Alberto. Our mission, upon our return to Positano, was to find Alberto.
When the three of us arrived after the long trek from Naples, through Sorrento, and on a winding bus ride that finally brought us into town, we deposited our bags at our hostel and quickly made our way down the steep stairs towards the beach (Italians pronounce this word "bitch" and I love that). We stopped into a little cafe to get a bottle of water and got to talking with one of the Italians next to us, who could clearly tell we were tourists. He seemed very friendly and curious about us, so we decided it might be alright to ask this man if he knew of a young man named Alberto who might still live in town.
"Alberto?" He replied. "He's my cousin!"
Yup. He sent us to the police station where Alberto's brother worked, but the little shack that served for a police headquarters was closed- I guess they were out for a smoke. We figured we'd try again later, and headed to the bitch.
At the beach, we plopped down on the pebbles and spun our heads full circle gawking at the view. The crystal blue of the waves, the sun setting on the horizon and reflecting off of the pale yellow stacked houses, the man pulling his small boat into shore. And suddenly Zoe got this crazy look on her face, stood up, and started running toward this man with the boat..
It was Alberto.
I kid you not. And as the two of them reapproached Tim and I, arm in arm, Alberto said "It is destiny. I knew I would see you again." Such an Italian thing to say.
Anyway, we spent the next day with Alberto until we made our way to Rome. But I just thought it was truly magical how a girl could show up in a small Italian town and, by word of mouth and sheer luck, find the man she had made out with in a rocky crevice 5 years ago. I have a picture of Zoe reenacting that too....priceless.
So-
FLASH FORWARD three years to Kristen's and my arrival in Macedonia. (Ok, George, I know it's called FYROM. Federal Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia. Don't argue with a Greek about this. Macedonia is part of Greece, the Macedonians stole the name).
Anyway, 30 years ago Kristen's mother had stayed with a Muslim Albanian family in Ohrid while she was backpacking through Europe. This family was called the Zhutas. Over the years, Kristen's mum had lost touch with them. But she did hear from them once in the early 90's when all of the Yugoslavian unrest began...the family asked her to sponsor them for visas to Canada. Kristen's mum tried to help them, but never heard back. Kinda scary. So, before we arrived in Ohrid, Kristen showed me these papers that she had- a copy of the Zhuta's address from 1978, and photocopies of pictures that they had all taken together. It was really not much to go on, but I was ready for the mission- operation find the Zhutas and hope they were still alive!
We arrived in Ohrid late in the day, and settled into our hostel with a cup of hot apple tea- yum. As we were chatting with the proprietors, we mentioned that we were going to try to find an Albanian family who Kristen's mum had stayed with 30 years before. Our dude took a skeptical look at the papers she had, then pulled out the phonebook and looked up the name Zhuta. There was one entry. So he called, and Ekuran Zhuta, the father of the family, picked up the phone. The dude nodded at us, and then spoke in hurried Macedonian into the receiver. Kristen and I just gaped at each other.
So yeah, within 30 minutes of our arrival, we found the Zhutas. Yup.
And they were wonderful! Ekuran and his son Ilber took us to drinks, Ilber's wife Arjeta showed us around the whole next day and treated us to a lovely meal in her home, and the Zhutas had us over for coffee and snacks. It was freaking amazing. There is nothing like stepping into someone's home and taking off your shoes when you've been traveling for three weeks. They were a dream.
So yes, it's true my friends. The world is a small place. Smaller maybe when you go to a place where the pace of life is calm enough that people get to know one another, and take time to chat over tea and crackers. Good things happen when we believe they can. It was pretty awesome finding the Zhutas.
AND, since I know what's coming, on the next chapter of Elissa's belated European adventures: A hike up the steepest city I've ever seen, and a failed attempt to attend the Madonna concert in Montenegro.
Stay tuned.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
MIA
My dear blogging friends. I'm sorry I've been MIA. I have been working vigorously on an application for a fellowship, and it's all I've done every time I've seen a computer. But here I am! I'm alive and well and drank lots of beer at Oktoberfest!!! (the most amazing festival in the world) Since I have not been the best blogger, I would like to invite you to catch up on all of my adventures at my friend Kristen's blog: http://kristen-lostinwanderlust.blogspot.com. She is an amazing blogger, much better than me, and there are many pictures to boot.
I'll be back!
I'll be back!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
"You don't go that way"
This is me, Constantinos, Sing Yi, Kristen and George eating our AMAZING chocolate souffles on Mykonos. We worked very hard to get these souffles- the place was closed so Constantinos called the owner's mother to have him come open it for us. Yup. These Greek men get shit done.Ok, so as I alluded to before, Mykonos was crazy. We were planning to stay for a day or two, and wound up staying for five. And if Kristen and I hadn't been so gung-ho about getting to Croatia, we would have probably never left. In fact, as far as I know, Sing Yi and Janell are still there!
On the first night when we arrived, we did the normal touristy stuff- we ate along the water, drank ouzo, and went out the the Scandinavian bar (a place for smelly, sweaty Aussies and Albanians). Janell had had quite a crush on our waiter at the restaurant, and later on in the evening, he came to meet us. Janell was clearly going to get home in her own way, and Kristen had already headed back, so Sing Yi and I had to find our way. Thankfully, two guys from Florida who were staying in the same place as us were at the bar and heading back too. The only catch: they had only brought one scooter. But Christos insisted there would be no problem. So the four of us walked to the scooter, and hopped on. Here's how we managed: Christos drove, Sing Yi and I squeezed onto the seat behind him, and the other guy Paul propped himself on the metal thingy on the back. I have never ridden a scooter before (Chris, you owe me a trip on your Vespa!!), and this was a crazy way to begin. Of course Christos had to be macho and take the turns at breakneck speed, and I kept freaking out about the fact that my bare feet were dangling three inches above the ground as we traveled 40 or 50 miles per hour. It must have been the worst for Paul though, without any padding back there... Anyway, we made it back each in one piece, after walking the last steep incline - that poor scooter just couldn't make it. And Sing Yi and I promptly passed out.
Which brings us to.... The day we lost Janell
In the morning, Janell hadn't returned. In a normal circumstance, this wouldn't have really been a problem... but Janell is a free spirit who had decided to travel without her cell phone. Sing Yi did have her 'special friend's' phone number, but none of us had a phone that was charged with minutes on it, and our phone was not accepting a recharge. So we borrowed our Floridian friends' phone to call, but only got a message, and didn't know what number to tell him to call back, since the Florida boys were leaving. I then put the piece of paper with his number on it in a place for safe keeping, and proceeded to lose it. (I found it in my wallet five days later...of course, Elissa).
At this point, the problem was that we had to check out of our room by noon so we could move to the Paraga beach campground where we wanted to stay for the next few nights. So we just packed up our things and all of Janell's and began our trek over to the campground on the other side of the island. It also would have been smart to leave Janell a note telling her where we were going, but by this time none of us was thinking clearly, and we were subconsciously trying to make it as hard as possible for Janell to find us.
By the time we got to Paraga beach, it was late in the afternoon and we still had no idea what to do. But you can't spend all your time worrying right? So Kristen, Sing Yi, and I went to go lie on the beach. Janell's a big girl...she'd find us.
A couple hours later, Kristen had gone up to the pool, Sing Yi was sleeping, and I decided to start doing some yoga on the beach, as I am apt to do. I was in the camel pose when I heard some laughter and heard Sing Yi say "It's yoga." Apparently, a group of guys on the beach were making fun of me. The interesting thing about this was that Sing Yi had pointed over to the group before and singled out one of the guys as good looking. I'd said "I'll give you that, but he's not my type." Now this guy, Constantinos, and a few of his friends came over to the two of us. In about two minutes Sing Yi was in love with Constantinos, and in about three, I was in love with his friend George. I guess that's how it happens on the Islands. Anyway, by the time Kristen came back to the beach about a half hour later, Constantinos and George had agreed to take us all to dinner, and then to help us find Janell.
We kept trying to describe to the two of them who Janell was with. "We think his name was Constantinos too....or Costastinos...Costas???" The boys seemed like they would know everyone on the island, but they had no idea who we were talking about. Still, no rush to find out if Janell was lying passed out naked on a beach somewhere.... So, we went to a beautiful tavern called Petran, and the boys ordered us all kinds of fish we'd never heard of. And a beautiful white table wine, according to Sing Yi, who also just happens to be a sommelier.
Around 10 pm- fully 18 hours after we'd last seen Janell, we went back to the restaurant where Janell's special friend worked. As we approached and pointed to him, Constantinos was like "Oh, Gus?? He's my friend!" He went up to Gus and it turned out Janell was with his roommate at a nearby internet cafe, and had had a fantastic day. When I went into the internet cafe to get her, she was in the middle of her US unemployment interview. Amazing. But she hadn't been worried and told us she'd meet us at the campground later. I was slightly reluctant to leave her again, but we headed out. And when she walked into our tent an hour later, she was like "Oh, you guys were worried? It's a small island....I figured I'd find you."
This is why we love Janell.
Getting adopted
The boys, Constantinos and George, essentially adopted all of us for the rest of the week. They took us to amazing hidden beaches, and out to some really great dinners. And I seriously fell for George. So much so, that he almost convinced me that we shouldn't go through the Balkans, as Kristen and I originally planned.
We were looking at a map of Eastern Europe. Kristen and I showed George how we were planning to take a bus from Athens to Florina (in the very north of Greece) and then travel by bus up through Macedonia, Albania, Montengro, and Croatia. George said "No baby, you don't go that way. That's dangerous. It's bad, it's dangerous." When we pressed him why, all he could really say was that Albanians were not nice, and neither were Macedonians. He pointed to the ferry route from Patras, Greece, to Venice and said "That's why this route exists. You don't go that way." It seems Grecians do not get along with their neighbors very well.
Anyway, between the sun and the beaches, we were almost talked into staying on the islands for an extra week and going directly to Italy. But ultimately, Kristen and I were way too excited to go where few have gone before, and on Sunday morning we left Athens on a bus for Lake Ohrid, Macedonia. And all is not lost...I may just go back to Athens at the end of my trip to see George. If I can't get him out of my head.
Or....I may never come home.
On the next episode of Elissa's Currently-Not-So-Tax-Deductible European Vacation:
-Sam and Sasha, the friendly taxi drivers of Macedonia.
-Kristen and I find the family that her mother stayed with 30 years ago in Ohrid, Macedonia, and get chaffeured around the city for a day.
-Hiking to the top of the old city in Kotor, easily the steepest city I've ever seen.
-We rock the Madonna concert in Budva, Montenegro!!!!
AND I'll be adding pictures!
On the first night when we arrived, we did the normal touristy stuff- we ate along the water, drank ouzo, and went out the the Scandinavian bar (a place for smelly, sweaty Aussies and Albanians). Janell had had quite a crush on our waiter at the restaurant, and later on in the evening, he came to meet us. Janell was clearly going to get home in her own way, and Kristen had already headed back, so Sing Yi and I had to find our way. Thankfully, two guys from Florida who were staying in the same place as us were at the bar and heading back too. The only catch: they had only brought one scooter. But Christos insisted there would be no problem. So the four of us walked to the scooter, and hopped on. Here's how we managed: Christos drove, Sing Yi and I squeezed onto the seat behind him, and the other guy Paul propped himself on the metal thingy on the back. I have never ridden a scooter before (Chris, you owe me a trip on your Vespa!!), and this was a crazy way to begin. Of course Christos had to be macho and take the turns at breakneck speed, and I kept freaking out about the fact that my bare feet were dangling three inches above the ground as we traveled 40 or 50 miles per hour. It must have been the worst for Paul though, without any padding back there... Anyway, we made it back each in one piece, after walking the last steep incline - that poor scooter just couldn't make it. And Sing Yi and I promptly passed out.
Which brings us to.... The day we lost Janell
In the morning, Janell hadn't returned. In a normal circumstance, this wouldn't have really been a problem... but Janell is a free spirit who had decided to travel without her cell phone. Sing Yi did have her 'special friend's' phone number, but none of us had a phone that was charged with minutes on it, and our phone was not accepting a recharge. So we borrowed our Floridian friends' phone to call, but only got a message, and didn't know what number to tell him to call back, since the Florida boys were leaving. I then put the piece of paper with his number on it in a place for safe keeping, and proceeded to lose it. (I found it in my wallet five days later...of course, Elissa).
At this point, the problem was that we had to check out of our room by noon so we could move to the Paraga beach campground where we wanted to stay for the next few nights. So we just packed up our things and all of Janell's and began our trek over to the campground on the other side of the island. It also would have been smart to leave Janell a note telling her where we were going, but by this time none of us was thinking clearly, and we were subconsciously trying to make it as hard as possible for Janell to find us.
By the time we got to Paraga beach, it was late in the afternoon and we still had no idea what to do. But you can't spend all your time worrying right? So Kristen, Sing Yi, and I went to go lie on the beach. Janell's a big girl...she'd find us.
A couple hours later, Kristen had gone up to the pool, Sing Yi was sleeping, and I decided to start doing some yoga on the beach, as I am apt to do. I was in the camel pose when I heard some laughter and heard Sing Yi say "It's yoga." Apparently, a group of guys on the beach were making fun of me. The interesting thing about this was that Sing Yi had pointed over to the group before and singled out one of the guys as good looking. I'd said "I'll give you that, but he's not my type." Now this guy, Constantinos, and a few of his friends came over to the two of us. In about two minutes Sing Yi was in love with Constantinos, and in about three, I was in love with his friend George. I guess that's how it happens on the Islands. Anyway, by the time Kristen came back to the beach about a half hour later, Constantinos and George had agreed to take us all to dinner, and then to help us find Janell.
We kept trying to describe to the two of them who Janell was with. "We think his name was Constantinos too....or Costastinos...Costas???" The boys seemed like they would know everyone on the island, but they had no idea who we were talking about. Still, no rush to find out if Janell was lying passed out naked on a beach somewhere.... So, we went to a beautiful tavern called Petran, and the boys ordered us all kinds of fish we'd never heard of. And a beautiful white table wine, according to Sing Yi, who also just happens to be a sommelier.
Around 10 pm- fully 18 hours after we'd last seen Janell, we went back to the restaurant where Janell's special friend worked. As we approached and pointed to him, Constantinos was like "Oh, Gus?? He's my friend!" He went up to Gus and it turned out Janell was with his roommate at a nearby internet cafe, and had had a fantastic day. When I went into the internet cafe to get her, she was in the middle of her US unemployment interview. Amazing. But she hadn't been worried and told us she'd meet us at the campground later. I was slightly reluctant to leave her again, but we headed out. And when she walked into our tent an hour later, she was like "Oh, you guys were worried? It's a small island....I figured I'd find you."
This is why we love Janell.
Getting adopted
The boys, Constantinos and George, essentially adopted all of us for the rest of the week. They took us to amazing hidden beaches, and out to some really great dinners. And I seriously fell for George. So much so, that he almost convinced me that we shouldn't go through the Balkans, as Kristen and I originally planned.
We were looking at a map of Eastern Europe. Kristen and I showed George how we were planning to take a bus from Athens to Florina (in the very north of Greece) and then travel by bus up through Macedonia, Albania, Montengro, and Croatia. George said "No baby, you don't go that way. That's dangerous. It's bad, it's dangerous." When we pressed him why, all he could really say was that Albanians were not nice, and neither were Macedonians. He pointed to the ferry route from Patras, Greece, to Venice and said "That's why this route exists. You don't go that way." It seems Grecians do not get along with their neighbors very well.
Anyway, between the sun and the beaches, we were almost talked into staying on the islands for an extra week and going directly to Italy. But ultimately, Kristen and I were way too excited to go where few have gone before, and on Sunday morning we left Athens on a bus for Lake Ohrid, Macedonia. And all is not lost...I may just go back to Athens at the end of my trip to see George. If I can't get him out of my head.
Or....I may never come home.
On the next episode of Elissa's Currently-Not-So-Tax-Deductible European Vacation:
-Sam and Sasha, the friendly taxi drivers of Macedonia.
-Kristen and I find the family that her mother stayed with 30 years ago in Ohrid, Macedonia, and get chaffeured around the city for a day.
-Hiking to the top of the old city in Kotor, easily the steepest city I've ever seen.
-We rock the Madonna concert in Budva, Montenegro!!!!
AND I'll be adding pictures!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Greece
Sing Yi, Kristen, and I holding the flowers some French Moroccan boys bought us on Bar St. in Kusadasi, Turkey.
So, by the time we left Turkey, we were happy to go. Yes, it's a beautiful country, but Kristen and I had gotten a little tired of the men in carpet stores calling to us "Hello! I am here! You are looking for me?" and "You are my sunshine....my only sunshine..." Last Friday night we hopped on a bus from Istanbul to Kusadasi, the Turkish port town from which we could make our way to the Greek Islands. Kristen and I brought along two of our girlfriends we had met in the hostel in Istanbul who were also eager to go to the Islands and get out of Turkey. One of the girls, Sing Yi, is an Aussie with a Malaysian passport, and has been traveling in the Shengan countries for almost 6 months. (I didn't know what Shengan was either- it's the European continent, and apparently if you don't have a visa, you're not allowed to travel for more than 3 consecutive months. ) Anyway, Sing Yi was worried that they wouldn't let her on the boat to Samos, the closest Greek Island.
Sure enough, when we arrived at the port on Sunday morning, this awful Turkish woman in the passport control started barking at the top of her lungs at Sing Yi like she was a terrorist. While she was barking, this Turkish man in plain clothes stepped in and started barking back, and then stepped outside to make a phone call on Sing Yi's behalf, probably to the Greek mafia or something. Our boat was supposed to leave in five minutes, and the woman would still not let her through. So Kristen, Janell (the other girl, from LA- actually she lives at Sunset and Detroit, how weird huh?), and I made our way onto the boat without Sing Yi. We sat dejected on the deck of the ferry, which strangely wasn't leaving, but still no Sing Yi in sight.
AND THEN, in a blaze of glory, Sing Yi emerged around the corner of the dock with the Turkish mafia man by her side, and strutted towards us with the sun glistening behind her. I was so excited to see her that I ran down onto the dock and started jumping up and down and leaping all around. Everyone on the boat thought I was crazy, but I have to say it was a glorious moment.
On Samos, where we only stayed for a couple of hours until our ferry to Mykonos came, we met a Kiwi named Dan who took us to a delicious place for lunch (the best food we had had on the trip yet) and sat on a beautiful beach. Dan was a trip, and told Kristen and I that he's going to America in November. So he has invited himself to stay with me for a night on November 2 in LA, which is funny considering that I might not even have a home in LA by then. Hmmm....we shall see. We travel by the seat of our pants.
By Sunday night we were on Mykonos, in a room on the north side of the Island. Kristen and I were only planning to stay on Mykonos for a few days and then island hop and wind up in Athens on Wednesday, but we wound up staying on Mykonos until Friday morning. The stories for why this occurred are very good....and I'm gonna leave you in suspense for now, dear readers.
But suffice it to say that we came to Athens last night, it looks like we're going to spend a rainy day walking around the city here, and then we'll be making our way up into the Balkans.
Tell me how much you want to hear about Mykonos, and maybe I'll tell you :)
Sure enough, when we arrived at the port on Sunday morning, this awful Turkish woman in the passport control started barking at the top of her lungs at Sing Yi like she was a terrorist. While she was barking, this Turkish man in plain clothes stepped in and started barking back, and then stepped outside to make a phone call on Sing Yi's behalf, probably to the Greek mafia or something. Our boat was supposed to leave in five minutes, and the woman would still not let her through. So Kristen, Janell (the other girl, from LA- actually she lives at Sunset and Detroit, how weird huh?), and I made our way onto the boat without Sing Yi. We sat dejected on the deck of the ferry, which strangely wasn't leaving, but still no Sing Yi in sight.
AND THEN, in a blaze of glory, Sing Yi emerged around the corner of the dock with the Turkish mafia man by her side, and strutted towards us with the sun glistening behind her. I was so excited to see her that I ran down onto the dock and started jumping up and down and leaping all around. Everyone on the boat thought I was crazy, but I have to say it was a glorious moment.
On Samos, where we only stayed for a couple of hours until our ferry to Mykonos came, we met a Kiwi named Dan who took us to a delicious place for lunch (the best food we had had on the trip yet) and sat on a beautiful beach. Dan was a trip, and told Kristen and I that he's going to America in November. So he has invited himself to stay with me for a night on November 2 in LA, which is funny considering that I might not even have a home in LA by then. Hmmm....we shall see. We travel by the seat of our pants.
By Sunday night we were on Mykonos, in a room on the north side of the Island. Kristen and I were only planning to stay on Mykonos for a few days and then island hop and wind up in Athens on Wednesday, but we wound up staying on Mykonos until Friday morning. The stories for why this occurred are very good....and I'm gonna leave you in suspense for now, dear readers.
But suffice it to say that we came to Athens last night, it looks like we're going to spend a rainy day walking around the city here, and then we'll be making our way up into the Balkans.
Tell me how much you want to hear about Mykonos, and maybe I'll tell you :)
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