"HAPPY TURKEY DAY!"

We just wanted to take this time to wish each and every one of our friends and family a safe and happy Thanksgiving Day! We love, appreciate and are thankful for all of you! Please save us a piece of turkey, oh, and some of those string beans with the durkee french onion rings on top.

And, by the way, we are also very thankful that we are safe amongst a rash of attacks that took place in Mumbai last night. Merely seven days ago, we happened to be staying in the neighborhood of Colaba, where the attacks happened, and took the very train, from the very station, where people were wounded and killed. Our thoughts and prayers go out to those families who have been affected. We are also grateful for all of your thoughts and prayers which have helped to keep us safe.

May this day find you in the company of loved ones, nourished by good food and safe and comfortable in your surroundings! HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

GOING, GOA, GONE!

Monday, November 24th at 15:15

Kevin

I am sitting on a cushion at a low table in the restaurant of the place we are staying in Goa overlooking the Arabian Sea. I was just approached by an Indian woman wishing to sell me some fresh flowers. Although I don't very much like saying no, I have gotten quite used to it as I have gotten a lot of practice. The town we are staying in now, Arambol, is far different than those we have visited thus far. It is a small fishing community, turned hippie quarters some time in the late 60's early 70's, with a long beach of fine sand, coconut palms and lots of cows. It still feels very sleepy considering the small army of hotels (beach huts), shops and restaurants that have opened up since the discovery of this beach by outsiders. There are tourists from all over the world, with a majority hailing from Italy and Russia. We have yet to meet any other Americans, which is okay.

We are staying in a place called Samsara and it is a series of five very simple, yet comfortable, beach huts with two regular rooms in a concrete building a bar, restaurant and a yoga studio which hosts two classes daily. The young couple that owns the place are from Italy and Russia. They are very accommodating and very hospitable as is all the staff that comes from various places around India to work for the season, which is from mid November to about March with December and January being the core and most popular amongst visitors. We are happy to be here at the early part of the season and expect to move on before the rush hits. Our stay here has been incredibly memorable and relaxing. Goa's pace is slow and steady. The days drift by with the assistance of a blazing sun and an ocean breeze. Sleep has been restful under the mosquito net with the fan providing a cool breeze and the ocean providing a soothing soundtrack.




We arrived in Goa on a train from Mumbai. A portion of the story is missing. Shortly after arriving in India and weathering Idalis' bout with “Delhi Belly”, we set out to locate the train station where we navigated the application process and eventually purchased three sets of train tickets. One ticket was on the second class sleeper from Mumbai to Aurangabad, a city east of Mumbai, a ticket on what is known as an air conditioned chair back to Mumbai from Aurangabad and last, another second class sleeper ticket from Mumbai to Goa. We had decided, quite at the last minute, to venture a bit out of the way to visit the city of Aurangabad before moving on to Goa. We assumed that it would be a respite from the Mumbai chaos and was in close proximity to a series of Buddhist, Hindu and Jain temples that were carved directly into the face of the basalt mountains (sound familiar?). The two sites we were most interested in were in the cities of Ajunta and Ellora. However, on our first morning's excursion, we were lucky enough to hail a tuk-tuk being piloted by a thirty-two year old Muslim man by the name of Aman. Originally it was our intention to have Aman simply drop us off at the bus station where we would then use the Indian public transportation system to navigate our way to these points of interest. However, after a rather convincing sales pitch and an extra investment of the equivalent of about three US dollars, we decided to take Aman up on his offer to drive us for the entire day to not only see the caves of Ellora, but also to see ancient tomb, an ancient fortress and a miniature, yet still quite grand, version of the Taj Mahal located right in his home town. We were also eventually treated to an authentic and delicious Indian lunch and a random sampling of some of the fruits available along the road side, which he procured for us at Indian prices, rather than the typical tourist price. Aman was kind enough to give explanations about each of the sites as well as answering a slew of questions about Indian culture, politics and history, which we had been harboring since our arrival. The day lasted about eight hours, covered a slew of kilometers and left Idalis and I both breathless and totally exhausted.

On our original attempt to purchase our series of three sets of train tickets, we were advised to check them and then check them again to insure all of the information was correct. We did so and accepted the tickets as adhering to the schedule that we desired. It was later that night that a small voice in my head said, “check the dates on the tickets one last time”. So, I did, and to my horror, discovered that we had only given ourselves one day in Aurangabad instead of the two we originally wanted. After advising Idalis of our error and losing a bit of sleep over it, we decided to try and remedy the situation the following day as there was nothing we could do about it right then and were not about to traverse the streets of Mumbai in the middle of the night. The next morning we set out to attempt to correct the tickets. On our way, we were stopped by touts, again wanting to provide any service imaginable. We repeatedly, yet politely, declined and advised that it was urgent that we make it to the train station to remedy our purchase at the booking office. It was one of the touts that advised us that the booking office is closed on Sunday. However, knowing by now that any excuse was used to just have you hang out a few minutes longer to get just a bit more description and one closer look, we decided to ignore the information and press on. I started thinking as we made our way to the train station that, in fact, the guide book only gave opening hours for the train station booking office for Monday through Saturday. Nonetheless, we still pressed on, and good that we did. We arrived at the train station, made our way to counter twenty-eight, the tourist counter that we had visited the day before, and were greeted by Dina, the incredibly friendly, bright and cheerful woman with a beautiful smile working the counter. She entertained the explanation of our plight, did some research and ended up correcting the dates of our tickets and somehow managed to give us money back despite the fact that we had to pay fines for the corrections and cancellations. We were delighted that our mistake was not permanent and that we would get three whole days away from Mumbai before having to return to catch the final train to Goa, where we currently sit.

Aurangabad was a much needed break, and in spite of being a rather large, and somewhat industrial city, we welcomed the change and felt an incredible sense of peace and spirit in the temples that were carved from solid rock. The interiors of each were incredibly ornate and contained statues and carvings of the various deities represented by the three groups of religious sects that inhabited the area and competed to have the most impressive temples. The competition fueled a level of creativity that was absolutely fascinating and we were the benefactors of their dedicated work where entire temples were created by hammer and chisel by starting from the front and working back and the top working down. You could not help but feel like you were within the presence of greatness. The balance of our trip was wonderful. We stayed at a hotel called Shree Maya, where the staff was incredibly friendly and courteous, the food delicious and the room rather large and comfortable. It made the impending thought of returning to Mumbai, even if for only ten hours, very unsettling. Another great thing to come out of our trip to Aurangabad was the opportunity of meeting Peter and Julia, a young German couple that too had shunned their domestic responsibilities in search of action and adventure. Their course had taken them on a slightly different track through India than ours. Nonetheless, we met in the middle and immediately hit it off. It was as if we had simply reunited with old friends.

Peter is very practical, soft spoken and witty and Julia is very sweet, energetic and vivacious. Both are a pleasure to be around and thus we have made every attempt to spend time together. In fact, we reunited once again here in Arumbol and went out to dinner where we dined on tuna, pomfret and prawns along with salad, chips (fries) and two bottles of Port wine. Port, you may ask. Yes, Port. The state of Goa was only vacated by the conquering and occupying Portuguese a mere forty-eight years ago, leaving an indelible mark on the region in the form of food, architecture and Christianity, Roman Catholic being the dominant religion of the area. A weird occurrence that sometimes allows the visitor to forget he is actually in India. Meat is prevalent, alcohol is tolerated and crosses are everywhere. Our dinner on the second night in Arambol was serenaded by the chants, in Hindi, of the Catholic mass going on in a church right next door.

Idalis and I had lunch at an Italian restaurant when we first arrived in Goa. I had gotten up at some point to use the restroom and discovered two slightly used surf boards lingering around the kitchen. I immediately inquired with the restaurant manager, George, as to the status of the boards. To my surprise, they were for rent at the meager price of one hundred rupees an hour, or the equivalent of two dollars. The next day, the surf had picked up a bit, to slightly ridable, so I grabbed the 5'10” NSP board and headed out for a bit. As I was paddling I came across a young Indian man. We struck up a conversation and filled each other in on the details of our lives. His name was Utkarsh and he was currently in the Indian Army stationed in Kashmir where he was performing his duty and attempting to manage the disturbances in that area between Muslims and Hindus. He was very well spoken and a pleasure to talk to. However, after listening to some of the horrors of religious wars, I decided it was time to teach Utkarsh how to surf. Much to my surprise, he was very much a natural. He laid on the board and managed to keep his balance. I pushed him into his first couple of waves, one of which he rode nearly all the way back to shore. Although he wasn't able to stand in the short time we surfed, I think he had a great time and I hope it helped to clear his mind from work for a little while and possibly even add a new fanatic to the world of surfing. After returning the board, I joined Uktarsh and two of his friends from University for a drink by the ocean. I was introduced to Komal (KK), who is very funny, and Himanshu, who will be getting married in April (good luck Humanshu! Don't forget to send my invitation!) We enjoyed a few cocktails as we watched the sun go down and resolved all the worlds problems. Thank you all for your hospitality and good company, It was a pleasure to meet you!

While in Goa, Peter celebrated his thirty-first birthday (Happy Birthday Peter!). So, we decided to celebrate with a surf. We enjoyed a morning session and an afternoon session of some decent surf. Although the surf in Goa is pretty small and not all that organized, we still had a great time and just enjoyed being in the water. Our celebrations continued the next day when at the behest of Peter and Julia we actually ended up renting motor scooters and covering a distance of approximately one hundred kilometers, all while driving on the “wrong” side of the street and dodging sacred cows and women walking along the road side balancing unusually large containers on their heads . We began our journey early in the morning and did not return to Arambol until the sun had gone down, making driving a scooter, in India, on the opposite side of the road, in the dark, a very challenging, yet unforgettable experience. We managed to visit the Wednesday market in Anjuna to take advantage of some cheap shopping, we then visited the city of Old Goa, a Portuguese settlement with basilicas and cathedrals, and then on to Panjim, another Portuguese settlement and the capital city of the state of Goa. We ended that evening by enjoying yet another meal of very fresh fish, calamari, prawns, crab and, to commemorate a day full of Portuguese explorations, another bottle of Port wine, and all for the equivalent of about twenty-five US dollars.





Our experiences here in Goa have been awesome. We have created a lot of memories and were lucky enough to meet some really wonderful people to spend time with and share experiences with. Goa has both captivated us as well as allowed us time to catch up on some much needed rest and to pursue the propagation of our tans in our attempt to acclimate into the local culture. Life here is incredibly slow and ridiculously affordable. On average, we are estimating that we spend between twenty and thirty US dollars a day, which includes transportation, food, drinks and lodging. You can procure anything that you could possibly need and at a fraction of the cost that you would expect to pay back home. The only draw back is the possibility of a mosquito bite that will introduce your body to Malaria, a potential bite or lick from a stray animal that could find you writhing from Rabies, a severe sun burn that will practically melt your skin off, a bout with the inside out disease that is only ever one sip of water away, careening your scooter off the side of a cliff and one caramel colored cow that the locals say is crazy.. A small price to pay for the slice of heaven that we have found known as Goa!

INCREDIBLE INDIA! (Volume I) A Baptism of Fire

Kevin

Tuesday, November 18 @ 19:54

First of all, I should take a little time to explain the name of the post and how it came about. While still traveling in Turkey, we were fortunate enough to sometimes have English speaking television, usually in the form of CNN or BBC. On the latter network would often run advertisements sponsored by the tourism and culture departments of various countries around the world. The one that was most enthralling and poignant was the one for India. A series of short clips highlighting many beautiful and interesting sites that lay within the border of this massive country. All visually stunning and made even better with the soft and melodic harmony with the words “Incredible India” sung in the background by an Indian woman with a beautiful voice. We decided to assist the tourism board of India by using their slogan to title all the posts for India, and there should be plenty, and exposing our hoards of dedicated readers! So there you have it. Each entry will still have its own ingenious title, but will be an installment.

Second of all, and on a more serious note, though this is technically not our first trip to Asia, as 97% of Turkey lies within the Asian continent, this is our first taste of what may be called an un or under developed Asian country. For all intents and purposes, India is growing by leaps and bounds in many respects, but perhaps most as an emerging global market. Unless you have been here, there really is nothing that you can see, including tourism commercials, or hear that can prepare you for this very unique experience. I am not qualified to pass any judgments or provide commentary in the form of details or specifics. However, as you know, this blog is a way for us to share our experiences on this adventure that we have chosen to undertake.

Upon arriving in Mumbai from Istanbul I think it is fair to say that we both may have experienced a bit of shock. The airport terminal is not all that bad or crazy, but suffice it to say that once you leave it, you are in a completely different environment. For us, one that we had never had any exposure to and could never have prepared for. The Indian people are truly beautiful in so many ways. They are incredibly colorful, charming, helpful, gracious and at times quite persistent. Their food is a cornucopia of spice and flavor, their music cheerful, their crafts intricate and beautiful. However, there is also a rather gloomy side. Again these are entirely based on our individual observations and are in no means intended to offend or judge. There is a gaping and drastic divide between the haves and the have nots. There is a level of poverty that neither of us could have ever envisioned. Mumbai is a city of sixteen million people and the better part of the community is incredibly poor. Without becoming graphic, suffice it to say that both of us were so moved by what we saw on a daily basis that we were practically brought to tears at the end of each of the three days that we were in Mumbai. Growing up in the west is a privilege that I will never take for granted again. Part of my upbringing is to blame for my inability to accept what I saw as “normal” or “just the way it is”. Entire families live in the streets and immediately adjacent to traffic, people sleep in gutters and little naked children relieve them selves in catch basins. Mostly everyone is in search of a way to secure a rupee, a currency that holds little value to the dollar that we are funding our travels with. It is so overwhelming at times and yet, there seems to be nothing that one person could possibly do to relieve the situation. No amount of rupees that we could ever supply would make much of a difference in the lives of some of the more unfortunate. Through it all, Idalis and I have been prompted to have some very intense and deep conversations that usually revolve around how to make sense of it all.
For the most part, India still subscribes to the caste system, which binds people to a social strata, from the time they are born, which most are never able to deviate from. A hopeless situation that is justified as the karma one must endure for actions in previous lives. A hard pill to swallow for a pampered westerner such as myself. Through all the noise and chaos that is India, we have committed to trying to work through it in the hopes that we could learn something from this experience and even better perhaps do something to help.

Our arrival into Mumbai was, for the most part, flawless. The planning that we had done had come in handy. We found the ATM, secured a fixed price taxi, slathered ourselves in mosquito repellent and managed to find our hotel without much difficulty. It was not the greatest hotel in the world, but our twin bed, rectangular room with a detached and shared bathroom was to serve us well, at least for one night. It pains me to once again have to advise everyone of yet another complication that my dear Idalis had to endure. It appears as if on the night of our arrival she brushed her teeth and simply overlooked the fact that the water could be hard on the gentle gut of a tourist. It was probably close to 2:30 in the morning when she awoke me to advise off pain, fever and a compulsion to visit the shared toilette...frequently. We suffered through the night together and first thing in the morning, I headed out into a city that I had yet to see in the light in search of water (of the bottled variety), re-hydration salts, bananas, crackers and toilette paper, the only item I did not return with. I then secured us an upgrade, a room with an attached bathroom and moved my Mum and all of our stuff one floor below. We set up, locked the door and settled in for what eventually became about twenty-four hours of intense fever (103.1), aching muscles and bones and an all liquid expulsion. I stayed with her the whole day and did whatever I could, which was not much, to try to help ease the discomfort. Had the hotel been decent, it may have made it a bit, just a bit, easier. But unfortunately, we got a pretty bad place that I virtually had to scrub just to make usable. (Worse than the Acrapolis in Rome, by far!)

Eventually, Mum's fever came back down to normal, the frequent visits to the lou lessened drastically and we found ourselves up, dressed and ready to tackle the city on our second day. I can't really say tackle, it was more like a tiptoe. We managed to see the Gateway to India, built in 1953 for the visiting British King, some of downtown and the train station, where we spent a great deal of time trying to figure out exactly where to order the tickets, how to complete the required form and select the most appropriate coach class from seven different varieties. After that, we eventually found ourselves navigating the very busy, very loud and very crowded streets to the furthest stall inside of the Kamat restaurant, where we would dine on our first real meal in over forty-eight hours. It took a great deal of fortitude for Idalis to feel secure about ingesting our menu selections. But, it turned out to be an incredibly tasteful, enjoyable and above all, safe meal. So much so that we would return the following night to sample more items that we had not had the room for on the previous night. There are many things to do in Mumbai, the touts will create or customize any tour imaginable for the right amount of rupees, “good price, good price”. However, we really did not get to do too much of the touristic things and were somewhat anxious to try and get out of the city after our few short, though very intense and taxing experiences. The most impressive of these experiences being our actual train ride out of town. It was the Kolkan Kanya train to Arangabad and it would be the second class, non a/c sleeper for us, seeing as it was the only thing available. We arrived an hour early, got a decent fare on the taxi ride and managed to find the correct platform and staging area for our designated coach, S3. As the train approached, we stood confidently at the platform ready to board until all of the sudden and out of nowhere the space between us and the train, no more than four feet, was immediately occupied by at least on hundred screaming, pushing and very determined Indian passengers. At first, we had no idea what to do, simply returned our lower jaws to their appropriate location and stepped back so as not to be a casualty of the mayhem that was ensuing before our very eyes. Second class is comprised of two categories, unreserved seating and second class sleeping berths, consisting of eight bunks per compartment. These classes are the cheapest and the ones most used by the locals. We had no idea and only accepted what was available to us the date and time that we wished to leave. Thankfully, after seeing the dilemma that we were facing, an Indian Transit employee cleared the coach of the unticketted guests allowing those with tickets to eventually board. We did and were somewhat relieved to eventually find our compartment, very much resembling a jail cell, and settled in for what we hoped would be a restful overnight train ride to our next destination. As you may have guessed by now, no such luck. We were, however, pleased to have the opportunity to meet another couple traveling through India, Klara and Zenik from the Czech Republic. They were kind enough to provide us with some insight on the art of traveling in India, including the top bunk theory, for which we are eternally grateful (thank you if you are out there and read this!). At first, the coach was only moderately occupied and a majority of the passengers were students of Architecture from Mumbai University. However, as time passed on our seven, eventually eight, hour journey, the coach became more and more crowded, to the point that people were lying in the aisles, cubbies and even restrooms. Another funny thing about train travel, if you want to call it funny, is that there is a very precise schedule for each and every train and rarely do they ever manage to adhere to those schedules. So imagine how complicated it is to know if you are at the right stop when your scheduled time arrives, it is completely dark outside and there are absolutely no signs indicating the station that you are at, or if they do exist, they are written only in Hindi. Thankfully, once again, the generosity of the Indian people shown through and one of the passengers advised us of when our scheduled stop to Arangabad had arrived. It was five in the morning, again, pitch black and we put on our packs, said good bye to our new friends and set off through a swarming crowd of touts to try and find our way to a hotel along a dark, dirt road.

Idalis:

Mumbai and I did not get off to a good start. As Kevin mentioned, on our first night, I became violently ill. The traditional “Delhi Belly” that many visitors get at some point in their travels here happened to me right away. I woke up at 2:30 AM, sweating and with horrible abdominal pains. My head was pounding, my entire body hurt, and although my fever was over 103 degrees, I could not stop shivering. I will spare you all the details. Suffice to say that it's the sickest I can ever remember feeling. I was somewhat scared, being in a new country, in a crappy hostel that perpetually smelled of turpentine, with no relief in sight. It was a horrible experience, the one good thing coming out of it was feeling, once again, Kevin's constant love and dedication to me. Kevin helped me take cold showers to bring down my temperature, ventured into Mumbai's dirty streets to buy me hydration salts, force fed me bits of banana so I'd have some food in my system, took my temperature religiously, and wiped my tears away when I couldn't stop crying. Not once, in those 24 hours, did he leave my side, choosing instead to stay with me in our hot, stinky, claustrophobic room. He watched over me, soothed me, and kept telling me I would get better soon. Kevin has done many romantic things for me. He's a guy who's not afraid to be affectionate, and his loving gestures have been numerous. This, by far, takes the cake. I will never forget his dedication and concern, his gentle hands helping me into bed when I was too weak. Some girls like diamond rings and roses, but for me, this has been the greatest show of love I've ever felt. Thank you, Amor, for calming my despair and making me feel safe.

I will not lie. Mumbai was hard. Kevin and I felt a range of feelings while there: awe towards the women dressed in beautiful colored saris, sadness at seeing so much poverty, delight at tasting our first vegetarian thali, revulsion at the smell of feces and urine which permeated so many corners, wonder at our first glimpse to the Gateway of India, frustration at the endless touts and beggars, and a million other conflicting emotions. We felt guilty for at once wanting to be pleasant to everyone we met, but having to say no to the millionth outstretched hand. We were greatly humbled by this experience, and our time in Mumbai further solidified our feeling of gratitude. Gratitude for having each other, wonderful families and friends, a roof over our heads, and food in our belly. For me, Mumbai was like having to drink cod liver oil as a child: I didn't like it, but I knew it was good for me.

"LIST"ANBUL

Wednesday, November 12, 2008 7:30 PM

Idalis:

Istanbul was a great city to finish our European leg on. Here were our top ten favorite things in this vibrant city, in no particular order:


1.Aya Sofya – For a thousand years, this was the largest church in the world. The Ottomans converted it into a mosque in 1453, and is now a museum. It is beautiful, especially for its dual representation of both Christianity and Islam. We saw beautiful mosaics of Jesus and Mary, right next to Arabic quotes from the Koran.



2.Blue Mosque – Given its nickname because of the blue impressions created by its tiled walls and dome, Sultan Ahmet mosque is Istanbul's greatest place of worship. Kevin and I took off our shoes, I put on a headscarf, and we went inside to marvel at its grandeur and beauty.



3.Topkapi Palace – Stomping grounds for the Ottoman sultans until the 19th century, it's now a museum. In one day, you can see exhibits of priceless diamonds and porcelain, as well as the Prophet Mohammed's tooth!



4.Street Food – Roasted chestnuts, sesame buns, steamed mussels stuffed with rice, döner kebab right off the spit, and the never-ending stream of men selling hot Turkish tea as they yell, “Çay, çay, çay!”



5.Grand Bazaar – A cacophonous labyrinth of 4500 shops, where you can buy jewelry, hookah pipes, nuts, spices, lanterns, scarves, and a million other things. Don't forget your haggling skills!



6.Religious Harmony – Istanbul is a very tolerant city. Women in head scarves are seen smoking cigarettes, while devout men pray in mosques, and young people meet for drinks. People seem to get along, despite their differences.



7.Reconnecting With Friends – Istanbul seems to be visitors' both first and last destination in Turkey, so Kevin and I were able to meet up with travelers we had met along the way. Thank you Maarten, Anthony, Elena, and Gianluca for such a great time! We wish you all much continued adventure and safe travels!



8.Eminönü – Istanbul's ferry port teams with energy! Boats are constantly coming in and out, people are walking everywhere, and the smell of food instantly makes you hungry! We loved sitting down with our fried fish sandwiches bought from the rocking boat (don't forget to spit out the bones!) and sipping on pickle juice, watching the organized chaos unfold before us. Better than television!



9.Basilica Cistern – I never knew a place that holds water could be so beautiful! Softly lit columns reflected in the water, two statues of Medusa, and humongous swimming carp! Researcher P. Gyllius had heard rumors of people cutting well holes in the ground to fish in this underground area, and eventually rediscovered this forgotten piece of Istanbul's history.



10.Beyoğlu – The heart of modern Istanbul. We loved walking down Istiklal Caddesi, browsing in bookstores, eating cheap food, and stopping for a drink in one of its numerous bars. Cosmopolitan, upbeat, and a great place to people watch!

CAVES AND FAIRY CHIMNEYS

Thursday, November 6, 8:20 AM

Kevin:

It's 5:30 in the morning as the sun starts to breach the horizon and begins to light up our surroundings. We peer out of our windows from seats 11 and 12 on the Nevşehir bus, where we have been for the last ten hours. Though the bus was large and comfortable and even served snacks, drinks and refreshing cologne, it has been a grueling ride. Idalis was sick the entire time and I spent the ride hovering between vomit catcher and comforter. Luckily, Idalis was able to control her facilities long enough to coincide with the scheduled stops that I only had to serve as the latter. All of these hardships from a restless overnight trip melted away as we absorbed the beauty of our surroundings. On either side of the straight, four lane, paved highway were rolling hills blanketed with velvety grasses in various stages of growth and displaying hues from green to blue to brown. In the distance, a backdrop of mountainous peaks giving off purple and gray hues. As we continue to drive, we begin to see hordes of hot air balloons gently and gracefully drifting over the landscapes that have made this region of Turkey so famous. We are about to arrive in the city of Göreme, in the heart of Cappadocia.

Idalis:

Cappadocia truly is a sight to behold. This lunar-like landscape, created over centuries by the erosion of a thick layer of volcanic “tufa,” has resulted in eerie shapes and surreal scenery known as “fairy chimneys.” The region of Cappadocia was originally settled by the troglodytes, who burrowed their homes into these stone cliffs and built many of their cities underground. Some time later, the early Christians continued this trend, by carving vaults and chambers for use as churches, homes, and animal stables. Some of these stone cliff dwellings are still inhabited by locals, and many others have been converted into accommodations, ranging from simple pensions to fancy hotels with bathroom jacuzzis! Walking in Göreme is like stepping into a dream with your eyes wide open.

We arrived very early in the morning at Traveller's Cave Pensiyon, where we would be staying in a cave room. Not ready for check-in, we were allowed to leave our bags and explore the city. Although tired and still recovering from the previous night's sleepless bus ride (rest stops with squat toilets are not what you want with stomach indigestion!), we were revived somewhat by our surroundings and walked to the Göreme Open-Air Museum, a World Heritage site which encompasses Cappadocia's best collection of rock-carved cave churches. We couldn't believe that so many of the frescos inside were in such great condition, even though most were from the 11th century! We walked in and out of the small churches, admired our surroundings, and tried to dodge the many tour bus travelers crammed inside some of them. Arriving back at our pension after a few hours, we were able to check into our simple cave room, and took a very long, much needed nap!

The next day, Kevin and I hiked two of the valleys in Göreme, Love and Rose Valley. Love Valley, given the name because of the phalic-shaped pillars of basalt stone, is also known as “Penis Valley,” for obvious reasons. We hiked up to a cliff and once reaching the summit, I couldn't help myself and yelled at the top of my lungs, “I'm surrounded by dozens of huge penises!” I had to do it ;)

Even more beautiful, though maybe not as funny, was Rose Valley, given its name because of the red hue of the stone. Despite only being 2 kilometers away, it took several hours to reach because of all of the ascents, descents, twists, and turns in the mountainous rock. It was definitely worth the effort, for the view from up top was enough to take your breath away. Shades of pink, yellow, and green could be seen in the distance on the wavy, pointed pillars.

Cappadocia is COLD at night. You can see many of the locals gathering firewood, preparing for the winter. We've enjoyed spending time at Traveller's Cave's common area in the pension, always warm with a lit furnace. Guests gather in the evenings at the toasty meeting place to have tea, nurse a beer, play backgammon, share travel stories and itineraries, or simply read a book. Although our accommodations were very simple, and the weather quite cold, the friendships we made helped warm our hearts! Thank you all who crossed paths with us for making our time here so special: teşekkür ederim!

P.S. Two things worth noting that don't really fit anywhere:

1.Becoming an Ambassador:

On our first day here, as Kevin and I were walking back to our pension, we came across an old man going up the hill with a bucket of soil. As his bucket was heavy, he would walk for several steps, then place his bucket down on the steep climb. He was definitely struggling. Kevin went up to him and asked him if he needed help, motioning with his hands. The elderly man nodded his head yes, and gave Kevin the bucket, which Kevin then carried to the trash to pour out. The man smiled and Kevin gave him back the bucket. We walked a few more feet and ran into a young Turkish gentleman who was working with his crew to rebuild a mosque. The gentleman said he saw Kevin helping the old man, and just wanted to shake his hand and thank him for helping him. We spoke to him for a while, actually on two occasions, and had nice conversations with him about art, Turkish life versus American life, and other topics.

We were a bit worried about entering Turkey, as we had heard some cautious tales, mostly from people who've never been. It has been a wonderful experience, and we have found the Turkish people to be extremely friendly, helpful, and generous. Just as important as the sights, what has really colored our experiences are the people we've met along the way.

As Americans, we felt some trepidation on this trip about how we would be viewed, since our government has done little to befriend our neighbors. Some fellow American travelers have gone as far as concealing their national identities, sewing a maple leaf patch onto their backpacks to pass as Canadians. Kevin and I are against this, and instead of hiding who we are, hope to give others a more positive impression of Americans. We know that we are very blessed to be doing this trip, and will try our best to be goodwill ambassadors to the world!

2.The World Celebrates Obama's Victory!

On our hike in Rose Valley, we stopped near the end at a little cave, where an elderly Turkish man sold refreshments. He made us a delicious drink, squeezing fresh pomegranate and orange to make a tasty juice. With his three words of English and our five words of Turkish, we were able to have an animated conversation (with our hands!) in his small cave. He asked about our presidential elections (we think) because we heard him say something about Obama. Kevin made a small joke saying, “Bush, güle güle!” which loosely translated means “Bon voyage, Bush!” The man started laughing hysterically and slapping his knee! He went out of his cave to tell another person Kevin's joke! The day of the elections, we were we were all huddled around the television at the pension, waiting for the results. The morning after, when we finally knew Obama had won, there was a collective congratulatory feeling. People from all nationalities including American, British, Dutch, Italian, and Turkish, were celebrating, as if we had just rung in a new year.

From the “Obama '08” stickers we saw in Rome, to the old Turkish man's enthusiasm for our new president, the world at large seems to be celebrating. So, regardless of your political affiliation, know that the international community appears to be happy with our country's political turn of events, and feels we've made a good decision. If nothing else, we have learned that is harmful to be a bully. It is unwise to trample on your neighbor's yard and seek refuge inside your home, for one day you will find yourself sharing the same sidewalk again. Many of us are hoping that this change will help to heal old transatlantic wounds. Hopefully, one day, we'll be able to change our new president's effective campaign slogan from “Yes we can!” to “Yes we did!”

WHIRLING THROUGH TURKEY

Friday, October 31, 2008 4:54 PM Happy Halloween!

Idalis:

As I write this, I am sitting on the bed in our wooden bungalow in southern Turkey. Our travels have brought us to many interesting and great places. Turkey is definitely one of them! The people and landscape are so diverse, from Mediterranean fisherman to the Whirling Dervishes of Konya, the blue seas of the coast to the mountains of Nemrut. We look forward to exploring it!




MARMARIS, MEDITERRANEAN COAST, TURKEY

We arrived in Turkey about a week ago, having taken a ferry from the Greek Island of Rhodes to Marmaris, the city that serves as a gate to the Mediterranean Coast of Turkey. We were so excited to be entering a new country after a month in Greece! So, after staring at the deep blue sea from our ferry boat for about an hour, Kevin and I felt a giddy sense of happiness when we finally saw land, in the form of Turkey's signature tall, green mountains.

Our original plan was to try to get a bus from Marmaris to Fethiye once arriving in Turkey, since there wasn't much of interest for us in the first city. But as we waited to make our way through customs at the port and saw it getting darker and darker, we changed our plans and decided to stay in Marmaris for the night, and catch a bus to Fethiye in the morning. While in line to get our passports stamped (yay!) we met a young Japanese gentleman named Kango. Kango proved to be very helpful, and extremely entertaining, in this new foreign city! The three of us decided to walk into the city of Marmaris, ignoring the hawking taxi cab drivers, and try to find the youth hostel mentioned in our guide book. We started walking. And walking. And walking. No map, no directions, no knowledge of the Turkish language, just a general “sense” of where it might be. We stopped several times and asked for directions, eventually finding the covered bazaar where the youth hostel should have been, only to find out that it had been closed for over two years! We wandered through the bazaar, by this time very late and dark, and finally made our way out. Kevin went into an internet cafe to ask for directions for another hostel, Kango went to get advice from a young Turkish man, and I stayed in the middle of the street, looking lost and bewildered! A taxi driver eventually approached us (a sorry-looking lot, I'm sure) and told us his friend had a pension. Although very hesitant at first, we followed him to the cab, realizing that at this point, we had very few options.

We arrived at the pension and the owner, Memo, showed us to our rooms. Spartan? Yes. Better than being on the street? Absolutely! That night was our first introduction to two-folded Turkish hospitality. We sat with an older Turkish woman, and had a great “conversation” that lasted a couple of hours. Being that she knew three words of English and we knew the same in Turkish, our talk included a lot of hand gestures and smiles. She gave us a delicious pastry that her son had baked that day in the bakery where he worked, and we even exchanged jewelry! Later on that night, our new friend Kango came back, telling us he had made some new Turkish friends at a bar we had passed along the way, and was coming back to get us. It was a great evening, as we learned a little about Turkish culture from the locals while drinking a few Efes beers. Conversely, we also got stiffed for the bill in the end, which we later learned was a somewhat common annoyance towards tourists. Regardless, we enjoyed ourselves and made a new friend along the way. Kango, if you read this, we hope you enjoyed the rest of your trip in Turkey and hope you made it safely home. Thank you for the hilarious company!

The next day, Kevin and I got up (kind of) early and after a simple breakfast of Turkish tea and pastries, we made our way to the bus station to make our way to Fethiye. To get to the bus station, we took a dolmuş, a small bus which literally means “stuffed” and is the preferred (and cheapest) way to get anywhere around any town in Turkey.









FETHIYE, TURKEY, MEDITERRANEAN COAST

Kevin:

Arriving at the local bus stop in Marmaris, we were immediately ushered on to a bus that was idling and waiting for the likes of two lost foreigners to reach full capacity and begin the three and one half hour journey to Fethiye. The more we rode along, the more we realized that the country of Turkey was nothing like what we had imagined and was bound to exceed all expectations. The landscape is lush, green and completely exhilarating. It was a nice change from the package resort town of Marmaris that we was our first introduction to Turkey. Fethiye is a, surprisingly and unexpectedly, larger town that is known for sailing and is a main port for all, and I mean all, the gulets that run the summer blue cruises and any combination of fishing, sunset and private tour packages that you could imagine. It does, however, manage to maintain a very small town feel in spite of its large area. It also seems to be a big destination for English tourists whose pound goes a very long way and therefore seem to be snatching up property at a fevers pace! The town is basically defined by its very long and very crowded marina.

Upon arrival at the otogar (bus station), we waited for approximately an hour fro the free shuttle to take is into the historic part of town. We were dropped off at the foot of a very steep hill that we would have to climb in order to arrive at our lodging, which was the very popular and acclaimed Farah Pension, also known as Monica's Place, named after the wife of the owner, Tuna, a very friendly and incredibly informative and handsome gentleman. We happened to be the only guests upon our arrival and were therefore ushered to the double with the best view and a small balcony, where we would end up spending many a cold night sharing a bottle of wine and samples of Turkish food from the local markets. After a complimentary drink, we began to shuffle through the pages of books, guides and pamphlets to see what the town of Fethiye had to offer. We were pleasantly surprised to see how many activities were available within just a few kilometers of our pansiyon. You see, originally, our only interest in Fethiye was as a jump off point for our blue cruise, which is a cruise on a wooden Turkish yacht, or gulet, which would ultimately arrive in the town of Olympos. Unfortunately, or later determined to be fortunately, the last blue cruise of the season was leaving the day after we arrived and was completely booked. Not a problem that wasn't easily overcome and possibly even exceeded. After some research, we realized that the blue cruise is usually more of a booze cruise and consists of very loud music played very late and hords of young and party inclined travellers. We were also advised that there were no guarantees of who your crew would be, how trained or how hospitable. We quickly moved beyond our disappointment and began immediately planning for alternate activities. A chore that would find us extending our original one night stay in Fethiye to a five night stay without a minute wasted or regretted.

On our first full day in Fethiye, we managed to get out early and took a walk into town. We were lucky to run into a girl who was just opening a local travel agency and began to inquire with her on the status of the different boat tours available. After checking our choices, we decided on the 'Twelve Island Tour'. We bought our tickets and asked where exactly the boat would take off from. We were given walking instructions and then advised that the time changed the night before and we were two hours early. So we walked around the marina until it was time to board our gület, which as you all know by now is a wooden Turkish yacht, to explore the 12 small islands that surround the bay. We wanted to have the experience, and because we were forgoing the “blue cruise” we thought this was the next best thing. It was wonderful! We were lucky, since because it was low season, there were only 8 of us on the sailboat, instead of the normal 40-50 people that go out on this boat. We didn't get a detailed explanation of the sights we were visiting. Instead, once we'd reach a new island, the captain of the gulet would yell, “Red island. 45 minutes. Go swim!” Although not very talkative by nature, the family crew was very well experienced, and we enjoyed the beautiful, clear waters. I went out, jumping off the gulet into the waters and exploring the surroundings. Idalis chose, for the most part, to stay on the boat and catch some sun, as the water proved to be too cold for her taste. We liked talking to the other passengers on the boat, and exchanged travel stories as we sailed. We had fresh fish for lunch on its deck, and sailed for the rest of the afternoon to some of the other surrounding islands. It was a great experience, and gave us a taste of cruising through the Mediterranean.

The following day found us walking Fethiye's extensive harbor, admiring the beautiful boats anchored for the season. We also hiked up to the mountain at the back of the town to see the Lycian tombs carved directly into the mountain side. That night, we had met some travelers who had arrived at the pansiyon where we were staying and we all decided to go out to dinner at the local fish market. We enjoyed an amazing dinner with Matt, from England, Ben, from Australia, Josh, from California, and Selma, from Denmark. The traditional Fethiye dinner includes a trip to the fish market where you pick out and pay for your fish of choice, then take it to one of the surrounding restaurants, where they will cook it for you (to your liking), and include bread, a salad, some sauce, and Turkish tea, all for about three dollars! We loved the experience, and we all got along well and had a great evening of conversation. If any of you read this, we hope you are well and thank you for sharing this experience with us!

The next day we decided to go hiking. There is a 500KM trail that runs along the Mediterranean Coast known as the Lycian Trail. Don't get excited, we did not hike the entire length. Rather, we decided to walk about 6KM of the trail from a town called Kayaköy to a town called Ölüdeniz. To get to Kayaköy, we had to catch a dolmüş from Fethiye. The town of Kayaköy is known as “ghost town” locally and is a town of approximately 500 residences that were occupied by the Ottoman Greeks prior to the invasion, and subsequent eviction, by the Turks in 1923. The Turks never occupied the residences after the exodus of the Greeks, thinking the land was cursed. Today, all the structures remain, mostly in tact, some still complete with bright red and blue painted interiors. The town is situated on a hill side and each residence was constructed in such a way that they did not obstruct each other's view. We happened to be the only ones visiting the site that day and it was slightly eerie. It is a town that just ceased to exist and silently lies in the hills of the Taurean Mountains. From the ghost town, we intercepted the Lycian trail and began our trek to the beach town of Ölüdeniz. After about an hour of trekking through and over the mountain range, we came to a look out where we got our first view of the Mediterranean coast and the beautiful beach of Ölüdeniz. After getting a view we seemed to have stepped up our pace to make it to the beach to get some sun during the peak hours. Ironically, after an hour and a half of hiking, the most difficult portion was the last 100 meters or so. It seemed as if the creators of the path also were in a hurry to finish the trail and get to the beach, as it was incredibly steep and full of loose rock. By the time we actually made it to the beach, the seat of our pants were stained the color of the ground we had met with on several occasions. Once arriving in Ölüdeniz, we realized that the town was slightly more attractive from the look out above, as it was more or less a tourist town and jam packed with English tourist. The beach was beautiful and we laid out eating a pancake with meat (kind of like a tortilla stuffed with lamb) and an ice cold Efes beer as we watched the pasty white English tourists paraglide down to Earth with smiles plastered to their faces and gaping holes in their wallets.

The next, and last day, in Fethiye, we decided to go to another local site and were glad we did. It is called the Saklikent Gorge. It is actually 18KM long in total distance, but most people are only inclined to walk about 1KM of it. This gorge, unlike previous ones we had visited, has a river running through it. At the very entrance, there is a spring that feeds into the river and it is a strong and cold current that you must overcome in order to make it to the other side where a lazy little stream accompanies your stroll up the gorge. The reason most people do not make it very far into the gorge is because it gradually becomes more difficult and one must wade in waist deep, and deeper, water that is pretty frigid and little to no sun light permeates the gorge, due to its narrowness. In addition, there are some large boulders that must be traversed. Of course, you know that there was no way that I was to be deterred by cold water and rocks. So, Idalis was kind enough to find a comfortable seat on a smooth stone while I attempted to permeate the inner core of the great chasm. Well, I probably only made it about another 1KM after about an hour and felt satisfied after not seeing any more footprints and reaching a point that became dark and where the gorge started to close in. Had Shawn been with me, we certainly would have pressed on!







OLYMPOS, MEDITTARANEAN COAST, TURKEY

The next morning we packed up our bags and headed down to the bus stop to catch a dolmŭş to the otogar (bus station) for our next trip to Olympos. The bus to Olympos was a four and a half hour ride that hugged the Mediterranean coast for most of the trip. The views were stunning and the ride was made interesting by the beautiful environment. Once again, despite all of our efforts to make it early, we were stuck at a small restaurant at the top of the hill overlooking Olympos while we watched the sun go down and become dark as we waited for a shuttle, or servis, to the village. Once it arrived, we boarded and made our way to Şaban Pansiyon, where we arrived just in time for a most wonderful and traditional Turkish dinner prepared by the owner's daughter, Meril, and her mother, who would turn out being incredible hosts and prompt our decision to stay longer due to the homemade breakfast and dinners included as part of our stay. We originally wanted to stay in a tree house, however, the frigid nights convinced us to rent a bungalow instead. It still felt like camping and we are fairly certain that there will be more tree houses in our future.

Olympos is a very cool town. There are a series of pansiyons (mostly tree houses) tucked down in a valley that discharges onto a pebble beach that is lined with ruins from the Byzantine, Roman and Lycian ruins and a backdrop provided by the large and looming Mount Olympos. It is stunning and has an incredible vibe. The ruins are very accessible and many are tucked away under the growth of local flora. Wild boars, roosters, and birds abound. We have even run into turkeys...Turkeys in turkey, still makes me smile every time I think about it. Our four days in Olympos have been very relaxing, another vacation from the vacation, and have included home made traditional Turkish breakfasts, consisting of tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, bread and much to our surprise, a fried egg. Evenings are met with a dinner of traditional Turkish fare such as çarakçaga, kuzu and mante. We have had time to hike and explore all of the ruins, lay out on the beach in an attempt to darken our tans in an effort to blend a bit more once we arrive to India and I have found various rocks and ledges to leap from, as this country seems to lend itself to my penchant for jumping off of things. Our hosts are wonderful, the bungalow cozy and the company fantastic.

Perhaps our most memorable part of Olympos will be our hike up to the Chimaera on Halloween night. As legend would have it. there was a strong and virile half god, half man that arrived in the town of Olympos. He became very well liked and had a reputation as a good man. He fell in love with the daughter of the King of Olympos, who did not care for him as he was not a local. So, as an agreement, the King told the man, if you can sleigh the Chimaera, or part lion, part snake, part eagle creature, than you could have my daughter's hand in marriage. The king gave him this task knowing full well that this was not even remotely possible. Well, our hero thought long and hard about how to accomplish this task so that he could marry the woman that he loved. Ultimately, he decided that he could not perform this task on his own, so he employed Pegasus, the winged horse, to assist. After a long and grueling battle, the hero was able to pierce the beast in the heart, at which time he collapsed, which sent a shock wave through the mountain which crumbled and buried the creature. It is said that the Chimera still lives as a captive inside the mountain and the fires that come from crags in the Earth, and have burned for centuries, are the breath of the buried beast. The experience in itself was absolutely amazing. However, experiencing it on Halloween and with such wonderful people as Anne, from Germany and Nicolette and Matt, from Australia, made it that much more enjoyable. We arrived at the fires, took a thousand pictures and then cracked a celebratory bottle of wine to mark our accomplishment and our new found friends!