Istanbul

The trip is over and done and finally—Istanbul! One of the oldest cities in the world it is the only city that is on two continents (Europe and Asia). Since my hotel was on the Europe side, that is where I spent most of my time.
The worst part about Istanbul was that this was where I said good-0bye to my tour group. What Can I say, I’ll miss them all,. I learned so much from them—the odd phrase, backgammon and that drinking every night is what Holiday is all about. 

Luckily, there is facebook to keep in touch.

Now, I have four days to tour the city by myself.

Blue Mosque
I ha e seen a lot of mosques and the Blue Mosque is truly one of the biggest and is impressive as hell. But but what sticks out is the vendor who would NOT go away. There I was, standing in line and he starts chatting me up. Whatever. Then he doesn’t’ leave and wants to escort me through the mosque. Um…no. And ‘No’ for so many reasons, but the biggest being that I like being by myself. So, I brushed him off and took in the blue-tiled interior by myself thank-you-very-much. And extravaganza is not an exaggeration. The oddest part about the Blue Mosque is that women don’t have to cover their heads. I covered mine. To do anything less seems disrespectful.

But when I walked out, guess who was waiting? Yes. Him. I had to ditch him again. What a pain.

Hagia Sophia
It used to be a mosque but is now a museum and is huge and wonderful and the mosaics are gilded as hell. And God knows, I do love the gilding (shiny….).

Topkapi Palace
Where the sultans lived and is now a museum. The grounds are impressive and the various building hold some fairly sparkly relics. There are no pictures of the sparkly relics though—they won’t let you take them. But the most interesting building was the Harem. I always pictured a harem like a Disney move—one giant room with pillows and perhaps a pool. Instead, it’s multiple room with rooms for the eunuchs, the girls, the kids, etc. Impressive. And also tiled up one wall and down the other.

Basilica Cistern
Too cool! An underground cistern as that the Roman’s built. And this is no small feat. The room is as big as a mosque and held up with arches and columns. I can’t imagine how they managed to dig out the ground and then construct a building (and it really is a building in many ways) of such impressive beauty. It was forgotten for a long time until someone saw a villager pull a fish from a hole in his floorboards (the cistern was beneath the house). Now, we all get to enjoy it!

One Word...

RAKI
A licorice liquer, we drank vast quantities of it at a belydance show in Cappodocia. Then we headed to Fat Boys (best local bar ever!) and danced the night away

Goreme, Turkey

What an amazing town. Small. Friendly. Good food. Great bars (yay Fat boys!) But what doominates the lasndscape are Fairy Chimneys.

Fairy Chimney's are geological oddities--towers of stone left over from the wear and tear of time. And in this regions, peopel use them to as houses.

Yep, they tunnel those suckers out to make a home and as understand it, have done so for centuries.

Underground Cities

Imagine an entire city built underground and in the stone and you have the Cappadocia region of Turkey. And when I say city, I mean an area big enough for thousands of people plus livestock.

Built during times of war and persecution, these cities could house the people of the region until the invaders left.

Amazing.

The underground area we visited went down seven levels and had its own well. There were even churches. Another fun fact, they used round doors that rolled into place and could only be opened from the inside.

Busted!

I was hoping it wouldn’t happen, but it did. Earlier, I posted that I used Spanish to get away” from people I didn’t want to speak to. Frankly, a lot of people in the Middle East speak French and English (as well as their native tongue) but few speak Spanish.

This has worked for four weeks!

Anyway, I was trying to ignore a vendor and used my sad sad Spanish. Turns out, he speaks about six languages and his Spanish is quite excellent.

Geez—talk about embarrassed.

Shopping-A Lesson in Charades

I went shopping yesterday. I needed leggings (it’s somewhat chilly and rainy here in Nigde) plus we plan to go dancing in Cappadocia and I have NOTHING to wear. But Nigde is anything but touristy and so very few people speak English.

This is where the ability to kickass at charades comes in handy. First, the tights. I was walking along the street that seemed dedicated to clothes and I passed a shop with footless tights in a bin outside. Good enough. I sorted through but needed longer ones so went in side, held them up to my leg and mined “longer” .

She got it and pulled out a longer pair. I pointed to my but and gestured that I needed to make sure they fit . (I do have some “junk in the trunk” as it were). She held the tight up and pulled them to show the stretch. Nice. She totally got it. Purchase made.

So I went looking for a t-shirt. I entered the store and all the sales people were standing around looking bored (seems that's international). I said "Hi" and wow, did they perk up once they realized I was American. By the time I was finished looking around and had a few things to try on, I had three sales people talking to me and we were all making hand gestures.

While they were good at charades, I couldn’t say much for their fashion sense. They tried to get me to wear an aqua, satin tunic top and leggings. Um, they eighties called and they want their clothes back.

Still, it was great fun and we were all laughing and chatting thought neither side understood a single freaking word. And as it turned out, neither side needed to speak the same language. For me, that brings home the lesson that words are just a tiny tiny partof communication. Facial expressions, gestures and tone conveyed everything that needed to be said.

I hope they understood how much fun I had and how much I enjoyed “speaking” to them!

Sense of Humor Day--Number Three

Today, we crossed the border from Syria to Turkey via taxi (three of them for our group). One thing that wasn’t written in the Intrepid trip notes was that the taxi driver will purchase packs of cigarettes and whiskey (two per person) at the Duty free and if he is caught smugglings...you say they are yours. Otherwise, there is hours of paperwork involved. Luckily, our driver wasn’t caught

Of course, the fact he slipped a bribe to the Syrian official as we went through probably didn’t hurt.

After the crossing, the drive to Antioch (Antakya) resembled an episode of The Amazing Race as each driver drove as fast as possible to get us to our destination. Scary but entertaining and the scenery was amazing. We’ve gone from desert to rocky, green hills and fields. We also passed (still at breakneck speed) a family of SIX on a motorbike. Yep…six. I’ve seen four and even five once or twice. But six was a new record.

We arrived n Antakya and wow, what a different a border can make culturally. I’ve only spotted a few habibs and not one burka. The streets are spotless and while some of the housing is poor, it’s colorful and in decent condition.
Once we arrived, we head to see the oldest church, St. Peters. (Founded by Peter—that dude from the Bible). It’s in a cave with some mosaics left, and was a secret church that the worshipped got to by crawling through a cave. After seeing the church, we hiked up the hills and crawled through a few caves as well, getting quite filthy in the process.

Call me crazy, but it doesn’t feel like a full day unless I ended up a little dirty.

Krak des Chevaliers (Still Syria)

A Crusader castle in Syria with a long history Krak des Chevaliers is way the hell up a hill and HUGE (took 90 years and a few sieges to make it as big as it is today) Just as good—our hotel, the Betaire. It’s right across the small valley and has a spectacular view.

We walked all over the Fort today and when we were standing on top of…oh…something..we ended up talking to some college students. They asked where we were from and we told them—America, New Zealand and Australia. When they students found out we were Americans, they were surprised to see us.

Who can blame them? The media goes on and on about how dangerous the Middle East is and sure, parts are freaking scary and should be avoided. Syria isn’t one of those areas. With the notable exception of a shopkeeper who was an absolute asshat, everyone here has been wonderful.

Anyway, we chit-chatted with the students about how the media blah blah blahed (basically making sure that everyone stayed freaked out because nothing sells advertisements like fear) and in thirty seconds, were had a huge group around us, just listening and them wanting to take our picture. It was just so damned sweet. The younger generation of Syria are just…endearing. So pictures were taken (I started to get almost a celebrity feelings)and then we headed back down to the guide who was waiting for us.

I’ll probably end up on a government watchlist.

More Pictures-as Promised

Camel Ride in Palmyra

A small town in the middle of the desert this is the closest the tour gets to Iraq. I have to admit that seeing a sigh that pointed towards Bagdad sparked interest in the entire group.

But we arrived at Palmyra with no unexpected detours.

And this is where I had my first camel ride (no pictures today since the Internet in syria BLOWS. I will add some when I get to Turkey). Since the others have already ridden camels (I got sick that day) it was just me for this excursion. The driver arrived at the hotel just before sunrise, I hopped on the beast , the driver got on behind and away we went.

At first, we headed towards the ruins (which is also the reason we came to Palmya) to watch the sunrise. After the sun was up, we trotted through the area and he explained some of the archaeology of the area…while he tried to cop a feel!
Yep, my driver was giving it a shot . At first, I didn’t think much of it. I was driving the camel lnow and it makes sense that he’s occasionally have his hands on my hips. Then they just stayed there. A little weird but I shrugged it off.
Then he gave me a squeeze. I am fairly sure that wasn’t part of the trip. I told him to kowck it off.

I must say men here are persistent. He offered to marry me. Of course he didn’t mean it (I am not that dumb!) but it made me laugh. He tried to kiss me and I turned my head.

Seriously, what did he think was going to happen? I am not that new. So we rode back to the hotel and I left palmyra--unscathed and unmarried.

People Are People

Today, I am in Damascus, Syria. It’s a big city with all the big city issues—traffic, pedestrians and to much honking. But there are also stark differences—especially when it coes to cultural differences. First, the main religion is Muslin, That means that the majority of local women wear either habibs(scarves to cover their hair) or burkas (full body cover from head to toe with only an opening for the eyes). At times, walking through the ancient streets is like walking through a sea of black.

What I like most though is to watch them watching us. Syria is many things but it isn’t a tourist area. There are a few here and there, but very few, Factor in that Alex and I walk around with our heads uncovered and our ar and calves showing and suddenly, we’re a bit of a sideshow. Mostly, I see the women watching us.. A few of the older one frown but most look at us with curiosity—much like I look at them. And when I smile, they smile back.

So while there are glaring cultural distinctions, there are similarities that serve to remind me that people are people and that maybe we’re not so so different after all.

Sense of Humor Day-Number Two

Today, we are crossing from Jordan into Syria in a 1970’s van (complete with red plushy interior and wood trip) that we have dubbed “The Shaggin’ Wagon”, machine-gun toting police just flew past us on the highway and one of the guys in my group never got his laundry back from the cleaners.

This is how most days seem to unfold the Middle East—a combination of awe, excitement , slight irritation and a dash of “Oh My God, We’re Going To Die!”

And That Makes Three

Yesterday was a slow day. Not the tour itself but the fact we’re all dead tired. We went o Jerash—an amazing Roman ruin outside Madaba, Jordan. No power walking today….it was more of a stroll.

But the real excitement came on the way home. Here the sequence of events:

A cop pulls over a driver and opens his door
Cop doesn’t pull far enough off the road and door opens in traffic
Bus next to us tried to pull over into our lane so it doesn’t hit the cops door.
We try to go left so we don’t get hit by the bus
No one can move far enough so—the bus hit to cop door! Shattered the hell out of it and I watched it fly by my window…as we sideswiped the jeep on our left. As for the cop, no idea but we hope he's okay.

So that makes three times I’ve cheated death:
1) Elevator getting Stuck
2) Construction falling
3) Car wreck

Done now!

Petra-Day Two

Petra is all about walking. Seriously,. Today, we put some serious miles on our feet. First hike: The High Place and roughly 900 steps. Again, while brutal, it takes effort. And on the way up—a lone donkey walking up by itself. Odd.
Great view of the other structures from the top and we got yelled at by some Frechman. Hey, it's not a fun day unless someone yells at you!

After we looked around, we hiked down the backside, toured a lot of tombs and carved houses—way too many to count! But all good. What I found interestingis that we only found one house that was carved on the inside. I can see why they wouldn't paint on the sandstone but to not carve it inside seems odd.

And around 3:00, we decided that we were “Tombed Out”. After all, one can only see so many tombs (even the ones at Petra) and at some point, they all start to blend. So what do we do…what to do…

We decide to go ahead and leave but to take an “alternate” route home that our guide had told us about. It’s not up the hill. It’s through the river bed, down a sandstone canyon, through a short tunnel and voila, you’re back at the entrance to the site.

Sounds easy enough?

It is, except for the climbing. Through the sandstone canyon, there are walls made of stone and misc. things like tires that you have to climb up in order to go on. Add that to the fact that someone motioned the word “Flash flood” and then that’s all I could think about. Yes, I know it’s a desert and I know it doesn’t get much rain but that doesn’t mean they don’t get flash floods. Still, even though it freaked me out a bit, but as always, I didn’t let a little trepidation stop me and an hour and a half later, we were outside Petra.

Petra Day One

One of the (new) Seven Wonders of the World and made even more famous by Indiana Joes and the Last Crusade, Petra is exactly as fabulous as everyone who hasn’t been there thinks and hopes it is.

Today, we arrived, walked through the canyon, turned a corner and WOW!

Iconic! And while the site was busy, that didn’t really bother me. My thought is that back in the day, Petra was busy with traders, shops, and people just living their lives, so seeing it a bit crowded with tourists isn’t that different. Sure, we’re dressed different but there is still shopping, money changing hands, milling about and even a few camels. So really, not so different.

And while most people are familiar with the Treasury, there is so much more to Petra. Today, we walked around the site and ended up hiking the 880 stairs up to the Monastery. Sounds like a bit of a walk but after Mt Sinai, anything less that 1000 stairs isn’t that big a deal anymore. And for those who don’t want to walk, there are always donkeys. Personally, I’d be worried about falling off the donkey to my death but it seems the little critters know what they are doing and so far as I can tell, people aren’t dying in droves!

On a side note, the donkeys look depressed as hell and I still think it’s possible they might just jump over, taking the rider with them.

Anyway, you hike up , ride up, whatever, and when you turn the corner—wow!
I have to say, I think I like the Monastery just as much as the Treasury. It’s not as ornate, but the fact it’s set way the hell up the mountain is impressive. Plus, you get the kick-ass view. We spent some time just walking around, going inside and trying to get into trouble.

Filthiest group EVER

Right now, I am traveling with a group of people that range in age, gender and nationality. Our group leader (John) has dubbed us the “Filthiest Group Ever”. Why? Two reasons:
1) We are smutty. It’s true. It seems we can’t have a conversation without it turning into something that Stu (a Kiwi) dubs “utter filth”. It might be dirty jokes, innuendo, learning a new and disturbing word or phrase, etc. but it’s all smut and sex with us.

I think it’s because we’re all single people with nothing better to talk about. There’s one married couple and they rarely (if ever) add to the smutty conversations. The rest of the group thinks it’s me that causes the decent into filth! Sure, pick on the romance novelist. Bastards and liars..all of them. J

2) Lack of washing. It’s not that we don’t want to but sometimes there is no time. Luckily, we don’t all do this at the same time, but I will confess that I didn’t wash my hair for two days after hiking up Mt Sinai and going to Sawa beach—I just rinsed and conditioned because I figured the salt water was harsh enough without adding soap to the mix. WRONG. My hair got to the point where it would stand up on its own.

Wadi Rum Desert

Entering Wadi Rum (a desert) is like entering a movie set—it’s so unreal and so huge that it verges on unbelievable. We did quite a bit there—climbed up huge rock arches, hiked up dunes (which is really really hard may I say) and spent the night at a Bedouin Camp.

Ah—the Bedouin camp—where one of the guys in my group tried to sell me for camel milk! Luckily, there was no camel milk to be had so the deal was no good. Plus, thee sheik already has two wives and me as wife number three…I think not! Still, the Sheik of the camp had great fun with it and went around all night calling me his wife. Even late into the night, I heard “Good Night my Wife!” yelled out into the dark, which sent Alex and I into giggles.

Anyway, dinner was cooked under the ground (called Zarv—see the picture) and quite good though occasionally gritty. And afterwards, there was singing and a dancing by the men. Myself and Cathy (she’s a British girl in my group) were pulled up as well and joined in—heaps of fun if a bit embarrassing. After the entertainment, we headed to bed and slept under the stars.

Sleeping in Wadi Rum is the best. There’s little to no light pollution and I don’t’ think I’ve seen that many stars in years. It was so clear and the stars so thick that it was like a sea of them over our head. Memorable!

Look Up!

Spent the night in Aqaba. A LOVELY town and but a bit dangerous. My roomie, Alexandra (Alex) and I were walking down the street to find a bakery and these who men were yelling at us. We ignored them because lots of people yell at us. Usually it’s a shopkeeper telling us to come into their store, that looking is free, etc.

Turns out, they were trying to warn us that there was construction going on in the building next too us. So, we’re chatting and walking and ignoring and we heard a clattering above our heads. We look to see mortar and wood raining down. I swear, I could feel the adrenaline and before either of us had time to think or shout, we ran into the street as the whole mess hit the sidewalk.

Cheated death once again!

Sense of Humor Day-Number One

Basically, it’s a border crossing. This time it’s from Egypt to Jordan via ferry, which is an adventure in itself. The ferry is always two hours (min) late and today was no exception. The ferry was supposed to leave at 2 and it left at 5. And the waiting terminal…..ewwww! At some point, I simply got use to the flies.

On the upside, as a foreigner, you get to board first. So when everyone rushes the door—push ahead of them. Yes, you get dirty looks but that’s why you pay more for a ticket. And the seat on the ferry are plushy and comfy. Well worth the wait!

Sawa Beach

I might be a “fire sign” (Sagittarius) but I love love love the water. Yesterday, we hiked up Mt Sinai, and today the payoff is this—Sawa Beach. Tucked on the Egyptian Coast, it’s a little piece of paradise with bamboo huts. And it’s what every little beach resort should be. Small. Cool in the shade. Hot in the sun. Lounge chairs. Strategically placed cushions so everyone has a place to spread out. The only thing missing are the Mojitoes (they don’t serve alcohol).

We arrived yesterday afternoon and the weather was perfect. We unloaded bags, jumped into our swimmers, grabbed snorkel gear and headed out to the reef.

On a side note--I can’t say that I find the water peaceful. I find sitting on the beach listening to the water peaceful, but not the water itself. Frankly when I snorkel I always feel a bit like bait splashing around, waiting for a predator to some and take sample from my leg.

Despite that, I snorkel anyway. I never want fear to keep me from doing something fun, and hey, snorkeling is a hoot! So we headed out to a reef that’s about 200 meters from shore. A bit of a trek, but so worth it! Tons of fish and a variety of coral, it isn’t too be missed I’d try to describe it but this is one time that pictures can definitely say more than words.

Mt Sinai

Today, we hiked up Mt Sinai. For those who know neither their bible nor Hollywood blockbusters, Mt Sinai is the birthplace of the Ten Commandments. Once you arrive, the point is to walk to the top. You can either take the 3000 steps to the top (called the Steps of Repentance) or take the easier hike of 6K. My Intrepid group decided to take the stairs. It’s brutal but shorter and somehow, that makes it sound easier.

Wow, are we a bunch of idiots.

Call me crazy, but 3000 stairs sounds “doable” when first heard. Or at least believable The trick is to break it down. I figure it take ten stairs between floor of a building and so a ten story building is 100 stairs. Just do that 30 times. Easy!

Oh. My. God. I’ve never done anything so hard in my life. We hike UPWARDS for 3 hours! Every muscle in my legs hurt, my knees ache and about midway on the last 700 stairs, I simply lost all energy. The general consensus was that Moses was hallucinating from altitude, fatigue and lack of water and so of course he saw an angel . My God, I was seeing things!

Still, we persevered. After all, it’s called the Steps of Repentance and not the Steps of Anyone Can Do This so Please Come On Up.

We all got to the top (some much earlier than others) and it was worth it. The view was barren and wild and spectacular. Not much of a sunset due to haze but frankly I didn’t do the walk to see the sunset. Much like any mountain, I did it because it was there.

Bonding

this is a little late but better late than never....

Here is my first group--STUCK in the elevator at the Hotel Indiana (Cairo, Egypt). Talk about bonding! L-R: Lorena, Michael, Peter, Alex, Stacy )my roomie)

On a side note, I seem to be the only American. The rest are Australian and New Zelanders and I am learning all sorts of slang.

Word of the day:
Budgie Smuggers—Men’s Speedos

Aswan and Better Living Through Chemistry

Aswan is a fabulous city. Clean. Nice people. Great market. And a lot to see and do.
But I will simply have to take everyone’s word for this because I am stuck in the hotel room-SICK. Yes, I ate or drink something that did not agree with me and I am stuck. I tried to “suck it up” yesterday but the heat makes me double over with cramps and and one can’t have a good time when one is crying like a little girl.

So far I have missed: The camel ride, dinner at the Nubian village, swimming, and Abu Simdal. But I am feeling better and I figure that the felucca ride should be fairly painless as all I have to do is lay around on the boat.

Still, this bites!

Spanish-The Best Language to Ditch a Man

Traveling as a single woman in Egypt is a pain in that every man in the country wants to know where you are from, is it your first visit, do you want s boyfriend, etc. t’s charming and flattering at first….annoying and eye-rolling the hundredth time.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t’ mind small talk with strangers. In fact, I do it all the time. But when random men approach me, I don’t like it no matter what the country. Unless they are hawt and since I already have the haw`t guy in my life….even random hawt men seems kind of “meh”.

What I have discovered is that while everyone in Egypt seems to know either English, French or both—very few speak Spanish. And I speak enough to get by. So now, when some random man wants to chat me up, I simply say “No Entiendo” and they go away since they can’t talk to me.

How handy is that?

Crying: it works in any language

I didn’t sleep much last night. It wasn’t the heat or the bed or because had insomnia…it was the urchin children running up and down the hallway and screaming. And by children I mean around 5 years old. They woke me at 11PM when they came in. I don’t begrudge anyone having a good time but when in a hotel one should have some consideration for other guests
Frankly, I blame the parents.

Anyway, I lean my head out the door and told them to please be quiet. Silence ahhh…blessed silence….

Until 1Am when they returned and decided to do it again. But the youngest decide to pitch a crying fit as well. The guy at the desk told me to get my own taxi I had a melt down. Yes, I can get a taxi but I was worried that he’d either lie about knowing where I wanted to go, overcharge me or both. And I was so freaking tired I couldn’t see straight!

Hence, the meltdown.

There I am, sobbing in the lobby (which if you know me is a unusual). You could almot see the clerk flinching. But he sucked it up (cuz I sure as hell wasn’t) went down with me, spoke to the driver, got the price and sent me on my way.

So yes, crying works in any language.

One-liners for the day (Museum and Market)

I went with Kess and Pam to the Egyptian Museum and market. Mother/daughter travel partner, they are so funny and so much fun.

Best one liners of the day:
Do you want it back? We ate lunch and they tried to overcharge us and we refused to give in. Their biggest mistake? Messing with Kess. When they pressed us to pay more, she came up with that fabulous line.

Don’t touch me. Said repeatedly when every man in the bazaar felt like he had to grab my arm. By the time we got to the end of the alley, word was out and when a boy tried to touch my arm to get my attention, a guy told him not to touch me!

It’s you. A young guy woul NOT go away and when Kess sneezed , he asked her what made her sneeze. Hence the reply!

I have a back alley. I mentioned that we needed to find a back alley and a vendor piped up with this gem. I don’t think he realized how perverted it sounded. I don't wnt to know ANYTHING about his "back alley". EW!

Note on the museum--they don't allow you to take pictures so that's a bummer. But it's worth touring. Tutankhamuns wing is fabulous. If I was going to rob a museum (in a book, people...in a book!) I'd go for something in that area.

So much fun being with Kess and Pam. They are great travelers, have a good sense of humor and are nice enough to let me tag along. Later, we ended uo getting take-away from four different vendors and eating back at the hotel.

The meal (clockwise starting from the bottom)--Falafel, Kosharia, Pidgeon and lamb. The spelling of kosharia is all kinds of wrong but until can get the correct, it will have to do!

First Day-Giza

I had a great first day in Cairo. I booked a tour and went to the see Saqqara —the first pyramid ever built. Very cool for that reason alone. The pyramid is smaller but impressive. And the majority of the site is quite large and complex. Next time, I’d take taxi though having a tour escort is a little limiting as far as time goes. I like to hang out and peopele watch while guides have schedules. Bummer!

What I learned in Saqqara:
Locals will try to escort you through a tomb and then expect to be paid. When you finally give them few pounds they will ask for more.
Lesson: Don’t let them escort you

Lesson Two: If you fail lesson one, don’t give them any more money than what you initially give them

After Saqqara, we went to Giza—the three famous pyramids that one always sees in movies, television, etc. When you first see them...WOW. There are no words. The pyramids are GINORMOUS. Just the fact all that stone was moved and shaped is to be awed. Anyhoo, I paid to go into the first pyramid and wow, what a helluva hike. Cramped. Hot. Steep. Once you reach the tomb, there isn’t much there. Thieves raided the tomb and by the time it was discovered, there was nothing left besides the mummy. Still, if one can imagine it filled with gold and artifacts, it’s impressive.

I had my guide take my picture at the “panoramic” site where you can see all three pyramids. One would think, that after being guide for YEARS…she could get all three pyramids in the background. Apparently not.

What I learned in Giza:
When you enter a random tomb, a local will ask for a ticket even if one is needed. Trust me, you will know when you need ticket . When that happens, just keep walking.

A quick note on Driving in Cairo…

DON’T!

If there are two lanes, they make it three by driving down the middle. And no, that is NOT an exaggeration. Three lanes becomes four. Four lanes become five…maybe five and a half…

On the upside it’s so congested that no one seems to go fast enough to cause damage.

40,000 feet and 11 Hours

4:20PM and leaving JFK
I am finally heading to the Middle East—Egypt Jordan, Syria and Turkey (in that order). It still seems a tad surreal. I’ve been planning this trip since last May and now…it’s here. Weird. It still doesn’t feel quite real, although real enough to be a bit nerve -wracking.

Face it, it’s been a long while since I took a vacation by myself and other than the archaeological history, I know very little about Middle East Culture. And even that knowledge is a bit sketchy. So, here I am at 40(ish) thousand feet, whisking across the ocean in a giant metal tube, and looking for adventure!

4AM and six hours later (approx)
Sitting just ahead of me is a young woman with two kids. When we first took off, the kids screamed and screamed and frankly, I felt sorry for both them and their mother. I’d imagine that as a mom, it has to be amazingly frustrating to be in a plane and not be able to calm your kid down. No one wants to be “that family”.

But that was about 6 hours ago. Now, my compassion quotient is used up as one child has a meltdown every thirty minutes…like he’s on a timer. Seriously. Every. Thirty. Minutes. I think if I could get some sleep, I’d feel better towards them but right now…not so much.

Syrian Embassy and Hollywood Lies

I had Friday off and thought I’d get my visa for Syria. In the three other counties I’ll be visiting, I can get a visa at the border. But not Syria. Nope. They want you to send in your password, pictures, and not just one application, but two. Since I live in the DC area, I thought I’d make a day of it.

The day started off less than spectacular when I discovered I lived in a geological black hole where ALL passport cameras are on the fritz. Okay, maybe not ALL, but the three I tried were broken. A frustrating hour later, I had my passport-sized pictures in my hand and was heading into DC...

...Where I found the Syrian Embassy. I don’t know what I expected--Okay, that’s a lie. I know what I expected, or rather, wanted. I’ve seen embassies in movies and they are always glittery and shiny and are populated by glittery, shiny people. There are parties and shadowy men with accents. Woman who would sell themselves for secrets.

I wanted Mr. and Mrs. Smith. But was it like that? At all?

For anyone who wants to know, the part of the Syrian Embassy I say (the office area) was anything but glittery. or shiny. It looked like any office in anywhere USA. There was a counter with a glass front. The bored receptionist. And people standing outside and smoking.

To be fair, my BF told me it would be like this. That it wasn’t that exciting. But dammit, I wanted to be right. I wanted the gild and the gold.

Despite the disappointment, I got the visa. And soon, I’ll be in Syria where I’ve done enough research to know that what’s in my head is real. Maybe not glitter. But also not Hollywood.

And probably better than I can even imagine.

21 days and counting.

How Travel Will Help Me Survive in a Post-Apocalyptic World

My sister sent this to me the other day:
Are Violent Video Games Adequately Preparing Children For The Apocalypse?

and it made me think...hmmmm....how will I survive in the Post Apocalyptic World (PAW)? I am not a gamer and don't plan to start because hey, I already have enough things sucking up my rime. However, I *think* that my travel experiences might help. Well, I hope they help because I am TOAST otherwise

How travel will help me survive in a post-apocalyptic world

One: Learn to Blend. When I travel to Mexico or the Middle East, I wear longer skirts and make sure my shirts cover my shoulders. If needed, I cover my head or wear a hat. The point is, blending keeps me out of trouble and locals appreciate my attempt to belong.

As far as a post-apocalyptic world, learning to blend is a huge asset! If a zombie hoard is shuffling through town, it is not the best time to be all, "look at me, I don't have to conform". Sure, you can stay clean and keep your pride...in your GRAVE! Your best bet of survival is to smear your face with blood and dirt, shuffle, moan and try to look as if you belong. Zombies are not the brightest of the monsters and with a little effort, are easily duped.

Two: Pick good travel companions. During my current travels, I like to be with people who are adventurous and can handle staying in a "low end" hotel. If I am traveling to a more "sketchy" location, I don't hesitate to hire an armed guard. The point is, to plan ahead and align yourself with someone(s) who can help you survive in a PAW. I plan to team up with a group (safety in numbers) and if I can, here's what I want: survival expert (Les from Survivor man would be great!), soldier, farmer, and the best video gamer I could find!

Three: Be open to Cultural Differences. There is nothing worse than traveling abroad and being labeled an "ugly America". You know those people. They whine that the food tastes funny and people drive on the wrong side of the road and why can't they find someone who speaks English and blah blah blah. You know what I say to those people-Wah! Part of travel is to learn about other cultures. To soak them in and if not to celebrate the differences, then to respect them.

The same will have to be done in the PAW. Customs are going to change based on the fact that groups will shift and move. Mere survival will mean buddying up to whoever is left alive at the end of the day-no matter what country they are from. There might even be an influx of demons that end up integrating into human society. Granted, there are some cultural differences that would have to be nixed (human sacrifice comes to mind), but otherwise, we stand to learn a lot. And if we pay attention we might be able to use that knowledge to defeat the creatures that want us dead.