Sacre Bleu

Paris hasn’t been everything I’d imagined it to be. Had I known what I was doing and had more time, though, it might’ve been. As soon as I arrived at Charles-De-Gaulle airport I pushed through crowds of travelers to find a way into the city as fast as I could. You can’t take the metro directly from the airport into Paris you have to transfer from a different type of train, one that I thought was the metro. It wasn’t. I arrived at the Airport around 10:00pm the last train returning to the airport leaves at 12:00am and the train takes about forty minutes to reach the center of the city. I had almost no time to see anything even if I knew what I was doing. If I made a mistake I was f’d. I made a mistake. I got off at the wrong stop, thinking I’d be able to see the Champs-Elysees and what-not. But Instead I got offered maps, bracelets, and drugs. I did see some Catherdral or something. I don’t know what it was, but I was gorgeous, and there were a ton of tourists there crowded around some black guy playing his guitar and singing 70s R&B. I can now say I’ve been to Paris which is a plus, but I can’t say it’s been great. I’ve slept about three hours in the last 42 or so. I guess I am going to try to get some sleep on this hard as hell marble floor. (I’m actually home now)

My Big Fat Greek Afternoon

This afternoon I went to the Greek Island of Kos. Yesterday Merve and Ed arrived.

Walk Hard

On Sunday Hande and I went to Efes, the ancient greek/roman ruins located about 2 hours north of Bodrum. The over three thousand year-old structures amazed me. They were so old and so beautiful. Hande and I also walked excessively, at least 8 or 9 miles. I'll tell that story later.

Wild Rabbits... Fat Brits

I haven’t posted in a few days because I haven’t had the time or internet access to do so. Don’t worry. I’ll bring you up to speed. Three days ago Hande and I lounged down at the beach all day. That evening after dinner we had intended to go into Bodrum for the evening but Hande disappeared to her room around nine for a quick nap and was not seen until the following morning. I did get my Bodrum fix, though. Two Days ago, Hande and I spent the entire day in the city. We explored nearly all of Bodrum—the good, the bad, and the ugly. We shopped for a bit (only after Hande basically forced me too),and I picked up a couple of pretty sweet t-shirts. After lunch, where had it not been for Hande we would’ve been ripped off by a couple of Turkish restaurant employees who love to prey on ignorant tourists. After battling through another round with the tireless stream Bodrum shops we were down for the count. We made out pit stop at Hookah bar where we smoked and talked about our futures. We ate dinner with some folks from Wales and then we went out with a couple of Hande’s high school pals. We sipped on our drinks at Korfaz (a pretty low-key Turkish bar) for awhile and then cranked up the excitement level a bit and hung out in a Rock-n-Roll club for the rest of the night. We didn’t get back home until around 3am, so I struggled to get up yesterday morning. When I finally did get out of bed, we decided to head to Wild Rabbit Island. The thing that makes Wild Rabbit Island different from the countless other islands that litter Turkey’s southwestern coast is that you can you can walk to it. We walked through the sea to Wild Rabbit Island and we even saw a few wild Rabbits. Later we swam and then ate lunch. We came back home napped and then ate at declicious meal prepared by Hande's mother. After dinner we went into Yalikavik. We shopped a little and picked up a few gifts for friends and family. While shopping we were distracted by some Brits at a near by barbelting out "West Virgina! Mountian Momma! Take Me Home!" in song. Hande and I couldn't pass up another oppourtunity to make fun of tourists, so we sat down. We had a couple drinks and just watched as middle aged overweight Brits belched out tunes. It was hilarious and we were the only ones who thought it was so. With the exception of three young turkish men who we quickly became friends with, and a couple of young British love-birds who were more interested in each other's lips than a few fat singers, the entire crowd was engulfed by the songs cheering and singing along. Hande, the three other Turks, and I just sat back and laughed. The turkish boys heckled the Brits to know end "Go Micheal go...Yeah sing bitch!" When we talked to the turkish boys they appologized for their recent attack on the US consulate "thes things happen" one said with a smile. The attack scared me a little bit, but I was far from Istanbul when the event occured, and I am now alive, safe, and well.

Worth Thirteen Hours

I've left Istanbul and am now relaxing in Bodrum. We hopped on a bus Sunday night to embark on our 13 hour journey to the Okutucu's summer house in bodrum. The 13 hour ride didn't drag on as expected it would, but rather, it was interesting and even exciting at times. The bus stopped a couple of times, once at 3am and a second time around 7. At the First stop Hande refused to wake up so I wandered around the stop alone for twenty minutes. I experienced a non-western style toilet for the first time and I was glad that I only had to relieve my bladder and not not my bowels. I also had top pay 50 liyra to relief myself but all I had were Euros. I put one Euro on the table and walked away. Finally Hande woke up and we hurriedly slurped down some soup before re-boarding the bus. The Turkish countryside was not like I expected it to be. It was much more mountainous and forested than I'd imagined. I managed to occupy a four hour chunk of the trip with sleep. I woke up when we stopped for breakfast. Then finally at around !0:30am we reached our final destination. After taking time to snap a few photos, I ate, slept, ate again, and slept again. After Breakfast this morning Hande, Merve, and I hiked down the hill to the beach. The cool sea water was a refreshing break from the hot midday sun. The three of us bobbed in the ocean for about an hour and then headed back for lunch. Were going back down to the beach later this afternoon.

Adalar

I was torn from my dream this morning by a barrage of foreign tongues. Raif, who takes pleasure in implementing creative strategies of waking us up, "accidently" turned the television set (broadcasting in Turkish) to full volume. After the abrupt start, however, we spent the rest of the day relaxing. We took a ferry to Buyuk Ada (one of the princes' islands). While on the island we took a very enjoyable horse carriage ride despite the less than pleasant aroma of the "shit sack." The horses nearly lugged us all the way to the the highest point on the island, but they stopped because at a point nearly a kilometer from the top of the island, the road gets significantly steeper. In order to reach the very top, we had to hike. Our laborious trek up the steep road paid off when we saw the view. A small chapel sits alone atop the hill. Before we went inside, though, we had to fully cover our legs. I first tried to cover mine with a skirt before a Turkish man suggested that unless I was Scottish, I had better where the pants that were hanging right next to them. A man also yelled at me for taking photos. Outside the chapel, two little boys were holding ice cream cones. One of the boys dropped his cone on the other boys neck. Hande and I found this hilarious. On the boat ride back there was an old man trying to sell potato peelers. He just started talking loudly and telling jokes. He gave a little presentation and to my surprise, almost everyone bought  one. We even bought one. Dinner was also excellent again. (I will ad photos later) 

Arriving in the Middle East

Every one of the 33 hours that I've been in Turkey has been fantastic (well maybe not every single one, but at least 30-33, and that ain't bad). The food, the culture, the architecture, the atmosphere, everything. It has all just grabbed a hold of me and taken me hostage, and I love it. The day I arrived I was very tired, so we didn't do much; however, our small journey exhausted this already exhausted boy. We took a tram from the airport to the hotel and then Hande and I went for a light meal. We ate at a very non-touristy restaurant. According to Hande it is where the locals eat, and the food was excellent, although, it was not what I expected. Hande ordered for me because I had no clue what I was doing. She ordered Kuru Fasulye pilav which is basically just rice and beans, but it is delicious. She also forced me to try Ayran, a yogurty Turkish beverage, which unfortunately was not as tasty as the food. It rather reminded me of spoiled milk. Street cats run about the streets everywhere too. I first met these cats during my first meal but they have graced my presence throughout the trip. I have also learned the Turkish cats, surprisingly enough, speak Turkish. When I attempted to beckon one of my feline friends with my usual call "kitty kitty kitty kitty kitty," I got no response; however, when Hande corrected me telling me to use the Turkish calling "gel pisi pisi pisi pisi" he came right on over. After our meal, Hande and i ventured through the city on a quite lengthy walk. In this country, though, i stick out like a sore thumb. I am clearly not a native and the shop owners know that. "Are you from the US? " is what they say, but "Do you want me to rip you off?" is what I hear. I've learned a few phrases to get by though like "Merhaba" meaning "Hello" and "Yok Saol" meaning "No Thanks." On our walk we saw some mosques, the sea, and best of all people. I was amazed by what I saw walking through Istanbul's narrow back streets. I say what I only thought existed in movies. Children in the street playing soccer, cats scampering around, people lounging outside their homes or shops chatting it was just life and it was great.

On the Second day, Hande her father Raif and I visited as many palaces, mosques, and museums as our tired legs would allow us to. At one of the mosques we met a hat-making friend who reminded Hande of Lucio and charged too much for his hand knitted hates. After making our rounds of all the must-see mosques, the grand bazaar and such(all of which were breathtaking by the way) we hopped on a ferry and trolled across the Bosphorus. On the other side we walked the streets and then had dinner in an open air Tavern where most Turks go to sing sad songs and drink away their worries, but we just had dinner and a couple of beers. We ate Meze which are basically appetizers which included clams, seeweed, and octopus, all of which were delicious. We also sampled Turkish beer called Efes which is much better than then frat standard- Busch Light.

Amsterdam

Ahh…Amsterdam. I had been in the city less than 10 minutes when I first smelled the famous forbidden plant burning. I arrived in Amsterdam at 5:30am local time. After exchanging a few US dollars for Euros, I took a train into the center of the city at around six. As soon as I emerged from beneath the airport into the dense Amsterdam Fog, I knew I had arrived in Europe. It is not unlike the US in many ways yet it is still vastly different. The overwhelming subtleties really set Europe apart from the US—smaller cars, better style, older buildings, smaller streets, etc. When I left the train station and officially planted my foot in foreign soil for the first time (I’m not counting Canada. It’s just America’s attic) I felt liberated. I was alone and thousands of miles from home, but the first thing that caught my eye was the huge number of bikes. They were everywhere. They lined the streets and sidewalks. Not a single pole, railing, or piece of fence was left naked. Each was kept company by at least one two-wheeled companion. While in the city I basically just walked around. I considered stopping in one of the many bars open at 6:30am for a pint but decided against it. I’m tired as hell right now. I still have about two hours before my flight leaves for Istanbul. I haven’t slept a wink and probably won’t. Try to sleep on the plane is terribly hard.

Ankle Agony (Almost)

I had a little scare yesterday. Despite my Dad's warnings against skateboarding before my trip to Turkey, I indulged in a little skateboarding session in my garage. I had finally nailed both kickflips and heelflips. A failed kickflip attempt, however, left my ankle in pain. I felt a strange shift in the outside of my left ankle, and I thought that I had surely sprained it. A day later, the ankle is only slightly swollen and most likely not seriously injured. It looks like my trip to Turkey will not be ruined by injury after all.