well i’m on my way…

That’s the literal translation for “Arbeit Mach Frei”, the words across most of the entrance gates to concentration camps in Europe.  Since Auschwitz is about an hour and a half bus ride from Krakow, we decided to submit ourselves to the horror.  It was my second time at Auschwitz (the first time none of the exhibits were open) and my third time visiting a concentration camp.  I’m sick, I know.  It was definately my last time, though.  I can’t put myself through that any more. 

Some people ask, “Why go?”  And I’ve come up with various reasons, but there was a quote in one of the buildings that sums it up perfectly:  “The one who does not remember history is bound to live through it again” -George Santayana

I walked in and read the first sign.  It was in Polish, English, and Hebrew.  Hebrew!  I wondered to myself if that many Jews really came here there is a need for signage in Hebrew.  As I was pondering this, a man dressed as a Hacidic (sp?) Jew walked by.  There was my answer.  I wondered then what his nightmares would be like that night.  Then I wondered how mine would be. 

I walked into a courtyard where lots of people were murdered, at the end of it is the infamous Execution Wall where mostly Poles were killed.  As I entered the courtyard and passed through the gates, I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the about-to-be-executed heads?  Did they walk through, head high, ready to look death in the face, stare him down and give him a big Screw You; were they glad to stop suffering; did they cry and wail for their family; did mothers pray for their children, their health, safety, to be free from the brutality of this place?  I saw people crossing themselves, crying.  I got a little misty-eyed myself.  I walked out and noticed the gateway, the gateway out of the courtyard.  How many people have walked through these gates, never to walk the reverse route, never to see the backside of this wall?  No one knows how many, but I know the answer:  TOO MANY. 

A few months ago, I traveled with Naomi in New Zealand.  Naomi is Jewish and taught me a lot about her religion and heritage.  She even brought me to a Passover Seder, where I got a real sense of what community is like within her religion.  Now I know more about the Jewish religion, history, and culture, it’s more sad, more terrible, and affected me more than it had before.  I kept on thinking about the Seder, and how happy everyone was, and all I could wonder was “How…” 

 There were many buildings housing exhibits, but the most terrifying ones were the displays of possessions that were taken away:  suitcases, shoes, prosthetic limbs, combs.  One of the worse ones was the room full of hair.  Most of it was grey, but there were some brown braids nestled among the rest of it.  Terrible, terrible.  I cried that day.  I’m not much of a crier.  (The last time I cried was in Copenhagen, when I almost lost my ATM card.  The time before that was years ago.)

I was at a loss for words that day, and trying to write about it, I feel that no words can adequately express how I felt.  Or even what I saw. 

We took the bus to Auschwitz 2, which I hadn’t seen before, and that was were most of the killing happened.  There were some buildings still standing, where the people lived, but most of them were gone since they were all made of wood.  What is left though, are the chimneys.  It’s eerie looking out at a field with nothing but chimney stacks.  One of the buildings still had all the bunks still in it.  It’s amazing how so many people could fit in such a  tiny space. 

We walked around the perimeter of the grounds and was amazed by the enormity of it.  We saw remnants of the execution chambers and a pond where ashes were dumped.  There was a sparsely forested area that seemed peaceful and I could hear birds chirping and singing.  But people waited here before they were killed.  How could a place that seems so peaceful have a history that it does?  And then I started wondering what these trees have witnessed.  Where some buildings stood and have only foundations left grass is starting to grow over the remnants.  It’s amazing to me that life can still form in this place. 

We left, feeling like shit, and slept on the bus ride back.  No one spoke on the overcrowded bus; everyone was probably trying to sort out their own emotions, which…you can’t.  It was an emotionally draining day.  And I can’t believe that we all submitted ourselves to it.  And so many people do. 

We left Krakow the next day.  I don’t think we could have stayed any longer.  The atmosphere of Auschwitz would only have hung over us in Krakow.     

We arrived in Krakow around ten, but due to an outdated phamplet, we didn’t get to the hostel until midnight.  We dropped off our bags and went out in search of food and beer.  We found a 24 hour pierogie place and indulged-Ryan a mixture of meat, mushroom, and potato and potato and cheese for me.  We drizzled what we thought was olive oil and vinegar on our pierogies but found out they were these sweet syrups.  Still not bad though.  We found a literal hole in the ground pub (through a cellar door) and had a Tyskie (my favorite Polish beer!) each-we were so tired, unlike the other people at the bar who kept on disappearing and coming back with more and more energy.  Nice first impression for Ryan.   Held up to the impression he had, since the Swede from Budapest told us he got robbed in Krakow.  Twice. 

We learned that there was a free concert on the Vistula River for the Wainki, a traditional Polish Midsummer Night festival.  It’s been going on for centuries, but in the last few years, the legislation of Krakow has been throwing concerts of artists ‘with international status’ to ‘put Krakow on the European map’.  (I’m pretty sure Auschwitz has already done that.)  Last year Jamiroquai (sp?) played, and this year it was Lenny Kravitz. I don’t hate Lenny Kravitz, but he’s OK.  Some of his radio songs are sweet, and I really like his acoustic version of “Fly Away”. 

So we had a few Tyskies at the hostel before packing more into my purse and heading down to the main square to follow the masses to where the actual concert was being held.  We discovered that the stage was set up on the river, and the crowd was hanging out on the bridges around it-there was quite a bit of water between the stage and the crowd.  We both thought it ruined part of the concert-going atmosphere, not to mention the sound quality.  Lenny started the show by saying “I’m here, but you’re over there, but you can still feel the love…”  The crowd was ridiculous, with people pushing and shoving, no one could even dance, I couldn’t lift my beer to my lips, people were fighting, I’m sure over pushing and shoving.  There was a kid on his father’s sholders, speaking in a taunting voice to people around him in Polish.  I bet he was saying “Haha, I can see and you can’t.”  It was crazyier than most crowds I’ve been in.  No one really cared about Lenny Kravitz, as everyone clapped politely when each song was over, but they did chant “Len-nay” after his encore was done.  

After the show was one of the best fireworks displays I’ve seen in my life.  Lots of massive gold explosions and spiraly fireworks-all to the music from Requim for a Dream-which made it kind of creepy (for those of you who don’t know, Requim is a film about heroin addicts) but the music is beautiful.  The fireworks display definately made up for the Lenny concert. 

We’ve been traveling by bus.  A lot of people don’t really think about traveling by bus, considering the intense train networks in Europe and conveniences like the Eurorail passes.  But, travel by bus is cheaper, so that’s how we’ve been doing it.

Three of the main bus lines are Eurolines, Orangeways, and Student Agency Bus.  We have yet to take Eurolines, but I’m sure we will soon.  While there are some perks to travel by bus, there are also some downfalls.

When we booked the bus, we figured it was just a bus-with wheels, seats, and a steering wheel and hopefully a driver to take us to our destinations.  But these buses are a bit more.  We wondered if there would be a toilet on the bus and there was.  (But there is a sign on the door that says “ONLY NUMBER 1”.  There is a bus attendant, usually a woman from the country we are departing who brings you drinks.  You can purchase beer and pop and water for a steep price, but you can drink all the coffee, hot chocolate, and other hot drinks you like.  She comes around with a garbage bag a few times throughout the ride.  If you can read the langauge of the country we’re departing from, you can get a newspaper for free as well.  And they play movies (more on that in a bit).  For the cheap price these rides are offered, we felt like we were getting a lot more than we paid for.

Yesterday’s bus ride was a bit rough.  It took almost eight hours to get from Budapest to Krakow.  Online it said the trip was only five and a half hours.  Most of the buses put a type of tinting on the windows to keep the sun out, but its also keeping my eyes focused in.  Part of  the reason I prefer the bus to the train is that you get to see more of the countryside, as trains are cut out of the earth most of the time.  But on Orangeways, you can’t look outside.  And they show movies, which is a nice way to pass the time when you cannot see the scenery, but they play crap movies.  Yesterday we watched The Lake House, Wedding Crashers, and What Happens in Vegas.  It was a full bus, and we were seated right in front of a TV screen, so we had no choice but to submit ourselves to the garbage some people consider entertainment.  I felt trapped, and I’m sure Ryan felt even worse than I did.

All that said, the busses are still good.  And they’re cheap.  Have I mentioned this yet?  For our eight hour bus ride, we paid 22 USD.  From Prague to Krakow we paid around the same price.  We met a couple who paid 70-something Euros each for the same route on the train.  I may complain, but I’d still recommend.

…at least the part flowing through Budapest isn’t! But I should start from the beginning.

When we arrived in Budapest we had no problem finding the Metro and locating the hostel. It was a bit hard getting in, though. The hostel is located in an old building, with shops on the bottom and residences on the upper floors. There was a keypad, and a sign telling us which the keycode was, but we couldnt figure out that we had to press the number, not ‘key’ number or the other way around. I went to a restaurant a few doors down for assistance and when I got back, Ryan was inside but couldn’t figure out how to let me in! A woman walked in and we followed her, we knew the hostel was on the first floor, but there were two main doors and then a balcony that went encircled a courtyard with many doors along that. A door opened, and I poked my head inside. The walls were painted a bright yellow, bikes were parked along the walls, and there were brochures hanging on the wall. This was definately the hostel. Phew. As we got checked in and got a tour of the place, I fell in love. The hostel is two flats combined into one, and it felt like I was visiting someone in their flat. I love hostels that make you feel like youre in a home. We were booked for three days, but because of the homeyness of the hostel, we extended our stay for a week.

The hostel is situated a few blocks from the Duna, or the Danube as the English speaking world calls it (hence the name Riverside Hostel), and there is a massive island in the middle of it. We headed over there and walked it top to bottom. Its a huge chill spot for locals and tourists alike, with lots of green spaces, fountains, bars, a pool and baths, and an athletic center. We sat and took in the scenery, loving life. We went back to the hostel where it was buzzing about some rave on another island further up the river. Ryan was keen on going, but I was soon to crash. I was the only one in the hostel when I went to bed at 10. After our sleepless night the day before, sleep felt good. Im not sure how Ryan did it.

Of course I woke up early, about two hours after Ryan came back, so I hung out, taking my time, enjoying the chillness of the hostel. When Ryan did wake up, we decided to go to the Hungarian Turkish Baths (since I didn’t partake in it when I was in Turkey). The baths were housed in a large ornate building with marble and statues everywhere. We took our towels outside and laid in the sun until we were too hot to think. We headed for the closest pool and stepped in-the water was 38 C, 100 F–not exactly refreshing, but it was nice. We went to the next pool, which was 26 C, 78 F, and that was a bit refreshing, but we preferred the warmer one. We people watched and soaked. I was a bit disappointed since all I heard speaking was English and German (I wanted a more authentic experience) and Ryan was disgusted by all the older men in Speedos. After alternating lying in the sun and soaking in the baths, Ryan was RED and we went inside to test out all the other baths. They all varied in temperatures from 20 C to 40 C. Ryan plunged in the 20 C while I watched. Only a few months ago I dove into 16 C water, and that hurt. 20 couldnt be much better. I dont think it was. We sat in the 40 C for a bit, but I wanted hotter.

As we were walking back from the baths, we saw a gathering of people listening to a man on a podium speak, sounding very passionate. People were cheering and holding Hungarian flags, and another flag we couldn’t identify. There were police cars crossing the street, heading towards the crowd, so we left. As we walked further down the street, there were vans of police, putting on riot gear. I was glad we left, but Ryan wanted to go back, but we didn’t.

The next day we took the free walking tour-not NewEurope, like the other cities hosted, but a generic tour. It was not as good as the other free tours we went on as the girl told us off the bat to ask questions because what she had to say was boring. The only thing I remember is that Hungarians invented the ballpoint pen and the Rubik’s cube. Good to know. After the tour Ryan and I took a walk and discovered a square full of people drinking. It wasn’t anything organized or a pub, just people hanging out in public. We found a supermarket, purchased a few beers each, and joined in with the locals, people watching. A man came up to us, spoke rather quickly in Hungarian, and when I said “English” he switched to “Please can we have a cigarette, and if you could spare some money, as we are homeless…” I told him that we were broke too, but here, you can have a cigarette. He asked for three, so I obliged, and he opened our beers for us and lit our cigarettes. We watched them ask everyone walking around for either cigarettes or change, or both. After feeling a bit sick on beers and too many cigarettes, we got Turkish food, the equivalent to Mexican drunk food at home. I ordered a cheese pizza-the cheese was just an egg batter! It wasn’t bad, but if I had wanted French toast, I would have ordered that…

We walked up the hill on the Buda side (the city is split into two by the river-Buda is the residential side to the west and Pest is the commercial side to the east) to the liberty statue (not the statue of liberty) to see panoramic views of the city the next afternoon once Ryan woke up. I noted that the city is very industrial by the massive amount of smokestacks. We found the Central Market thats housed in a huge building that was created for these markets. The bottom two floors are of fruit, veg, meats, bakeries, and fish. It did not smell good at all. The top floor housed souveniers and doilies-I doubt locals ever go up there, except maybe to smoke. Every stall worker was smoking, undoubtedly staining the beautiful linens. We bought a tomato for our dinner that night, so we headed back to the hostel so it wouldnt get smushed (can you tell where our priorities are?). En route we discovered a ‘traditional Hungarian dance’ in one of the tourist squares so we stopped to watch the Hungarian adolescents hold hands and dance in circles. Not long after they started dancing, I noticed a high pitch scream coming from the stage. Every minute or so another one emitted from the group. The girls were taking turns screaming! After a few minutes I was starting to get annoyed, so I said, “Stop screaming” mostly to Ryan. He took the tomato out of the bag and acted as if he was going to throw it. We started laughing so hard people we giving us mean looks so we left, still laughing, holding our sides and almost crying as we crossed the street. We chatted until late that night with our roomies-Fiona, Hong Kong born but raised in England; and very Northern Sweedish couple Jonathan and Malin.

When I woke up the next morning I realized it was my six month anniversary of traveling-Wow. I felt I should celebrate! Ryan and I went back to the island to sunbathe and found a nice patch of grass to lie on. Many other people had the same idea, most of them older men that Im guessing were retired, some other tourists, and lots of couples. Ryan has noticed that people are way into PDA more here than at home, and it was quite obvious by the couples along the tree line underneath blankets…After we were crispy and sick of getting run over by children kicking a ball around, we went in search of a quieter place in the shade. We joined more masses of people sitting by a massive fountain. There was classical music playing trying to be in tune with the fountain. Sometimes it worked, and other times it didn’t. We people watched there too, paying particular attention to fashion. Midriffs are very popular with the women here; what Ryan and I would call fannie packs (although we learned rather quickly it’s a pretty vulgar term in many parts of the world)-you know, the smallish pouch one puts around their waist either in front, on the hip, or as its done in Budapest, popularly sitting on their bum; g-string bikinis; 30 clips in a womans hair; dreadlocks are super popular (which Im loving on the men); long long hair on women; men in short shorts; men in capris; everyone in linen, men and women carrying purses I did over ten years ago…

We picked up some beers before we went back to the hostel. We had a few beers with our new friends, Jonathan, Malin, and Claudia-an Austrian, and some Canadian boys staying in our room. We went out to meet up with some guys Ryan went to the rave with and ended up in an arty bar called Instant. It was cool, with a fussball table and decent music, but I was a bit disappointed. All I could hear was English being spoken by native English speakers. Oh well, I probably would have only spoken to the people I came with, and the occasional Irish I always seem to harass once I pick up the accent. When I went to the toilet, I learned they were co-ed, as I had to pass a wall of urinals to get to the stalls. I had to try the local shot-Unicum, a licorice-y drink popular with Hungarians. The initial reaction of people is to make a nasty face, but after you recover and take that first deep breath, the taste comes to you again, so you make a worse face two minutes after you take the shot. Nasty. I went back to my beer, but a few hours later, we did another shot, which right after, I handed my beer to one of my new friends and beelined to the toilet. No more Unicum for me, but beer was still settling well with my stomach. We closed the bar and went for Turkish food and we closed there too. Ryan was sleeping at the table when they turned on the lights. When we walked outside the sun was rising, as it was 530 in the morning. Good night. Slept til 11 the next morning.

Ryan and I were extremely tired the next morning, so we took our time getting up. We went out in search of the Opera House (someone told me this is where Evita was filmed, the part where Madonna addressed the Argentines telling them not to cry-unfortunately it wasn’t, but it was still a beautiful building) and the Jewish Synagogue. Thanks to my Jewish travel partner in New Zealand, I have a new interest in Judiasm. The Synagogue was a spectacular building as well. We took lots of breaks in our walk and sat on a lot of benches, just people watching. At one point a man came up to us, probably asking for money after he leafed through a few garbage cans. We just said, “No” a couple times until he went away, but it wasn’t quick enough as he smelled like feces. Literally. We started packing our bags when we got back and watched Borat with the Swedes. Ive seen the film before but didnt remember much. I decided that I wasted 2 hours of my life watching that movie-twice.

I woke up the next morning (today) to find Ryan was already awake and had breakfast waiting for me. I usually wake up right away upon rising, but the confusion of Ryan being up and functioning before me threw me off guard. We had our last breakfast with our new Swedish and Austrian friends, as we’re leaving today for Poland, to a city Ive been to before, but still, I’m looking forward to it.

Before you continue to read this, I must warn you.  I cannot find the question mark nor the exclamation point on this keyboard, so bear with me if I sound a little dry.

When we arrived in Prage and I refreshed myself with the public tranportation system, I started feeling super excited and had a grin on my face that didnt leave until after we checked into my favorite hostel of all time, Sir Tobys.  (The reason Sir Tobys is my favorite is because it is the first hosel that blew me away by its character, cleanliness, excellent staff, and delicious worth the price breakfast.  Since then Ive seen others that are similar, but Sir Tobys is what sets the standards in my book.)  The hostel worker was very pleased to hear that I was a returning customer, and even more so when I told him I always recommend Sir Tobys for other peoples travels.

We got to our room and met Tash, an Aussie and the two of us chatted about Western Australia, my favorite part of Oz and her homestate.  I recalled an amazing restaurant near the hostel called Pet Penez, and the three of us went.  We all had pasta dishes-very Czech, I know-for under three Euros.  Cheap and delicious.  What a perfect way to begin our stay in Prague.

The next day we checked out early to meet Ryans brothers frat brother, Joe, who has been working in Prague for the last year, and invited us to stay in his flat while his roommate was away.  Awesome.  The flat was pretty clean, considering three guys live there, and the rooms were pretty spacious.  Ryan and I had the largest of the bedrooms to ourselves.  Joe and his roommate left for work and we showered, taking our time and savouring the fact that we didnt have to wear flip flops nor worry about using too much hot water for the line of other travelers outside.

Once we freshened up, we headed out to see the sights.  Since I was in Prague two years ago, I was still able to naviagte the winding cobblestone streets.  We saw the New Town, the Old Town, crossed the Charles Bridge, and just wandered, looking at the lovely architecture.  We noticed that where Berlin had the communist style buildings (big and blockish), Prague did too, but they seemed to take some time to make it look nice.  We rubbed what we thought was a good luck statue (we learned later that a local rubbed off another part of the statue so it looked like you were supposed to rub it-Jerk) and basically walked around getting lost and finding our way back again.  We got back to the hostel exhausted, with half assed plans to go out, and did some laundry (yay free laundry) and crashed.

The next day it was raining, so we stayed in until the skies cleared up.  We had intentions of wandering and getting lost, but we found a beer garden with Budwar Budweiser ads all over the canopies.  This is what Annheuser Busch (sp question mark) got their name from, and theyve been fighting over the name ever since.  So we sat down and ordered one, and another, and another.  So much better than the American version.  We noticed people arriving from after work, and with their beers, these men in suits were ordering huge plates of fries.  They looked delicious, and when we learned they were less than 2 Euros, we ordered a plate.  They came with tartar sauce that tasted more like a tzatziki sauce minus the pungent garlic and ketchup that tasted a bit cinnamony.  We scarfed them down and had one more beer before we decided to leave.  The sun was still out and we were loving Prague even more.

We wandered around Prague some more in search of the supposed largest horse statue in Europe.  I had to see it, after being on this trip of the biggest, largest, southern most, and all those other things that belong in the Guinness Book of World Records…We found the TV tower en route, and commented on how ugly it was, scarring Pragues baroque character until we noticed statues of babies crawling up and down the tower.  Then it became wierd so it was OK in our books.  Next to it was a Jewish Cemetary that looked overcrowded, with headstones literally inches away from eachother.  We wanted to go in, but I noticed a locked gate, while Ryan was sizing up the jumpability of the fence.  We ended up looking at it awhile, until it got dark, and we headed for the horse statue, which was starting to come into our view way up ahead.

We found the statue after walking under a couple viaducts and down some very dark streets and what do you know, the area around it was under construction.  We couldnt get as close as we wanted to the massive statue, and wished we could so we could determine the scale of it.  Could we touch the belly of the horse, we wondered.  How big was the mans boot that was riding the horse, we wanted to know.  Oh well, we saw the largest horse statue in Europe, and thats all that matters.  Right.

We took the free tour of Prague the next day and everything we walked by and learned about Ryan and I had already seen.  It was nice to get the running commentary, but our tour guide wasnt as enthusiastic about it as our Berlin guide was, so we couldnt get into it as much.

After the tour we went back to Joes flat, where he and his friend Eva from outside of Prague were having drinks just hanging out and would we like a drink-of course we would, it was our last night in Prague.  After we finished the juice and nearly finished the vodka, we decided to go out.  Since both Ryan and Joe are gay, we of course went to a gay bar, since gay men love dancing with girls anyway it seems…Valentino had three levels, but the levels went down instead of up.  We started with a few beers on the street level, sitting at a table, watching people come in.  After we caught a buzz, we headed down to the next level where there was a dance floor.  We had more beers, a shot of Absynthe (yuck) and danced and danced.  After Eva left, we went downstairs, which had a smaller dance floor and lots of couches.  We met some of Joes colleagues, and when they started hitting on Ryan, Joe wanted to leave.

We went to another bar, that I cant remember the name of, and bought our last beers.  The music here was much better than the last bar, and I ended up dancing with a bunch of good-smelling men, since Ryan was ready to leave and Joe had disappeared.  I like dancing with guys who arent the least bit interested in me; gay men are so much fun and theyre excellent dancers.

When we left the bar and noticed the sky was getting light.  We decided then that we would go back to Joes, grab our stuff, and head for the bus station, since our bus left in a little less than three hours from then.  Sleep would be pointless.  We got to the train station as the sun was rising and chatted with other travelers who were also waiting for busses, after having the same idea we did.  We finally boarded our bus, and fell asleep, hoping we wouldnt wake up until we arrived in Budapest.

Ryan and I spent six days in Berlin mostly relaxing.  We learned quickly that our hostel is used mostly for school trips when we stopped some people running by our room.  The sixteen year olds were from near Cologne and gave us our first German beer-Berliner.  We chatted with them awhile to let them practice their English, but they were drunk and hung up on the fact that its illegal to drink in the US until youre 21, but are able to drive when youre 16…

Every morning I would wake up in a different mood I was the day before.  One morning I would wake up wondering what the day would bring and then next wondering what I was doing there.  Im pretty sure that my joke of a mattress I was sleeping on was helping my negativity…

When I discovered there was a kitchen in the hostel, I got excited, since I hadnt cooked my own food in almost three weeks.  I didnt realize how much I needed to do that.  We hurried to the supermarket, just outside the hostel, and bought eggs, peppers, tomatoes, a bag of oranges, and 5 minute noodles.  The omlette we made was probably the best tasting Ive ever had, mostly due to the fact I cooked it myself.  After we both felt more energized from our brunch, we headed out and wandered the Berlin suburbs for eight hours.  We were exhausted and fell asleep so early.  I could feel sickness coming on, where my head was hurting and I was starting to feel a scratchiness in my throat.

Next morning I awoke to Ryans face in mine, seemingly yelling, Rise and Shine  We hurried to meet up with the free tour of Berlin and spent the next four hours being paraded around by an Australian student who definately knew her German history.  The most interesting thing we learned was that the tearing down of the Berlin wall was an accident.  A misinformed man whose name I forgot gave a press conference and when asked when the wall was coming down, he said Immediately, instead of saying something more along the lines of To be determined at a later date, which he should have.  Oops.  So, the destruction of the wall was a bit of a mistake, but a good one.  I think.  Ha.

Since it was Saturday, we were planning to go out, but after we napped a bit, since no one goes out before midnight in Berlin, I was not ready to go out drinking.  I dozed off, and when I awoke Ryan was tying his boots.  I was glad that he didnt mind going out alone, since I was too tired, and didnt want to accelerate my sickness.  Plus, I wouldnt have been fun.

I woke up the next morning feeling OK but lazy.  Ryan slept most of the day and I read.  I took a nap and woke up hating life.  I knew going home wasnt going to make me feel better, but I felt that if I stayed I would be wasting my money, going from place to place feeling numb.  I expressed my feelings to Ryan, and while he looked everywhere but my eyes, he told me to do whatever I had to do, and if he had to travel Europe on his own, he would do it.  I knew then that I had to feel better, but I knew this was something I coudlnt force myself out of.  Time is the only thing that could.

We went back to our room and read and a French guy walked in.  The bed that he wanted was made, but we thought that the lady hadnt cleaned the sheets off it, so he took the sheets off and used his own to make it and folded his covers back just so.  He told us hed be back.  While he was gone, a family came in and the daughter hopped into the Frech guys freshly made bed.  When the guy came back, he was really upset, and struggled to tell her in English that he paid money for the bed, and her response was that She paid money too, and sounded like she was laughing.  He left in a storm, came back with fresh sheets and spat on her as he made the bed on top of hers.  She just lied there, but after he got into his bed, he leaned over and started saying things to her in French.  She got up and moved into bed with her mother, while she and the girls father just lied there.  I couldnt believe that they didnt do anything.  I have no idea what the man was saying, but he sounded very angry.  Once he fell asleep, he made these crazy noises that kept the entire room up all night.  It wasnt snoring, as snoring is more constant as the mooing\moaning noises he made.  It was ridiculous.  When he woke up at 5, he started speaking very viciously to the girl again.  I told him to be quiet, which he did, but still continued to speak very nastily to her and seemingly to her family.  Wierd.

When we woke up we met our nice roommate, Nicholas from Luxembourg.  He was trying to get a job in Berlin, and had interviews lined up for the entire week.  Ryan and I left for another walking day, in search of the bus station we were leaving from the next day.  After we found it, we headed back, but stopped at a supermarket en route. We picked up rolls, cheese, salami for Ryan, potatosalad, and yogurt and feasted at a park across the street.  Everything was so tasty, especially the potatosalad-it tasted like there were chunks of pickles in it.  We wandered for the rest of the day and lazily sat in a park for a while.  I was starting to feel alive again, but I didnt want to say anything to Ryan, in case the feeling was temporary.  When we got back to the hostel Nicholas was there and feeling very chatty.  We started talking about our travels, and where hed worked, in Africa ,and some islands off Portugal that I had never heard of.  As he was telling me about these places, I found myself smiling alot, and feeling excited.  I was back and that made me happier than anything.

We decided to continue our conversation in the hostel bar, where we had four beers each and closed the bar.  I forgot about the effects of German beer and wondered how I would wake up the next morning, as I was feeling pretty damn good.  Surprisingly I woke up before my alarm, packed, and we headed out for the busstation to get on a bus that was heading for Prague.

The train to Copenhagen was two hours late, while I waited, a drunk man started talking to me, and what do you know-hes from Turkey!!  I avoided talking to him and chatted with an English girl waiting for the same train, except she was going to Berlin-it split somewhere in the middle of the night.  The longer and longer we waited, I began wishing that I was Berlin-bound as well, since after I booked my ticket I learned that my friend Ryan had just arrived there, and was really digging the vibe.

I got on the train, found my cabin, only to learn that it was full already and people were sprawled out all over the seats and floor.  I found a cabin at the end of the car that only had two people in it and curled up in a ball and tried to sleep.  I awoke what I thought was hours later to see the sun rise.  I learned it was four am, and that we werent even out of Germany.  I hadnt realized Germany was that north in some places to see so many hours of sunlight…

I started chatting with people in my cabin once it was a decent hour.  We were all young, early to mid twenties I guessed, and we got on well.  The guy in the cabin had done a six month trip in South America about a year ago, and of all the questions he could have asked, he asked me if I was getting bored.  Im not sure bored is the right word, but tired sure as hell is.  I explained to him that Im just really indecisive about what I want, where I want to go.  He felt my pain, and told me how he would see things, feel numb to them at the time, but now when he looks back, he realizes that his experience was amazing, and that he did have a wonderful time, even though at some times he was exhausted.  That was very reassuring.

I arrived in Copenhagen and wandered around the train station.  I needed money so I found an ATM machine.  After I put my card in, the screen went black.  After waiting a minute, I asked the woman waiting behind me if she knew what was going on.  A trainstation employee was exiting a door right next to the ATM and the woman asked her, who started speaking to me in Danish.  I asked ‘English?’ and thankfully she spoke perfectly, ‘Two other people have lost their cards in there today…’  I explained to her that I was traveling and this was my only way of getting money.  She offered me her phone to call, but the number was on the card that was in the machine.  Miraculously, the machine started making noises and spit out my card.  I grabbed it, said ‘Tak, Thank you,’ and hurried away.  I found the WC, locked myself in a stall, and silenty cried. 

After I composed myself, I found an ATM that was working and took out some money.  I left the building and tried to find an information center.  I was booked into a 32 bed dorm room and I was not about to share a room with 31 other people in the mood I was in.  I inquired about a bus to Berlin and found it left daily-but 2 hours previously.  They told me of another company, but I had to go to the building which was at address 20 on ‘this street’, while running his hand diagonally across the two streets crossing in front of the building we were in.  I walked in a huge circle, finding address 20 of both streets, but not finding what I was looking for.  I started crying again, left my sunglasses on, and walked back to the train staion.  All I could think to myself was how tired I was…

At the train station I got online and clicked on easyjet.com.  There was a flight leaving Copenhagen in three hours for Berlin.  I booked it without hesitation and got on the train.  I looked at the people on the train, decided that most of the men were very attractive, looked at the sights, and knew Id be back.  Not sure when, but I will definately be back.  When I have more money to spend, more time, and heaps more energy.

I arrived in Berlin, found the train to the main part of town, and found a hostel near there in my guidebook.  Exhausted as I was I walked there, booked a room for a night, went online to email Ryan, showered, and went directly to bed.  I didnt sleep well that night, dreaming of seeing my friend.  I knew that a friendly face was what I needed most, after some decent sleep.

I woke up and checked my email.  Ryan had written back and he was at A&O Hostel not far from where I was staying.   I checked out and hurried for the train-wanting to get there as soon as possible.  There was a line for the ticket machine and the train was there.  This was my third time in Germany, and after all the trains Ive taken, Ive never been asked to show my ticket, so I just hopped on.  Of course, once the doors closed, a man said something in German, took an ID badge out of his hoodie, and the people on the train started taking out their tickets.  Crap.  I claimed ignorance, but that didnt work.  I was issued a 40 Euro ticket, which Im wondering if I really need to pay. 

I got to the hostel and waited for Ryan.  I wasnt about to book until I knew how long he was staying.  I surfed the net until I saw him enter the lobby, where I jumped up and gave him a huge hug, which he returned tenfold.  I thought I would cry upon seeing him, but I didnt.  After only a few hours with him walking around Berlin, I felt as if a huge weight had lifted off my shoulders.

When I awoke I thumbed through my Lonely Planet wondering where my next destination would be.  I decided that none of the places between Greece and Czech Repubic sounded enticing to me, so I did some soul searching.  Where in Europe do I really want to go?  When I went to the toilet and looked in the mirror at my reflection, I got the answer: Scandanavia!  I couldnt be discriminated against for my blue eyes, blondge from the sun hair, and pasty skin there!  My mothers father was half Sweedish, half Norwegian, so I looked at the book.  Norway was my first decision, as a Kiwi told me that their Fiordland rivals New Zealands, and that so far is my favourite place in the world.  I decided that Denmark would be my second option, since it was still on the mainland and would be easiest to get to. 

When I arrived in Thessoloniki, I searched for an internet cafe.  I got a hotel owner to let me use his personal for 3 Euro an hour (ouch!) and looked at flights.  The cheapest I found from Thessoloniki was to Dortmund Germany and was in two hours.  I learned it was only a 30 minute cab ride from the hotel so I booked it and ran out of there to catch a cab.  As the cab driver raced through the streets, I got a huge smile on my face.  I was happy again-and thrilled to be traveling!

The flight was full of Germans, so even though its a foreign language, its one Im familair with, after studying it in grade school, and then meeting so many Germans in the last 5 months in Oz and New Zealand.  I was happy and when I arrived in Dortmund, I got to practice my German, and booked an overnight train to Copenhagen.  I found an internet cafe to waste my time in, since I had six hours, and Ive been here before in between flights-I already know theres not much to see.

Denmark here I come!!!

On the walk back I asked Suat, the DJ from the hostel about the ‘friendliness’ of the Turkish people.  He explained to me that American woman, and just women travelling in general seem to be a little more ‘openminded’ than others.  And that these men are being bold because yes, they are tring to sleep with them.  Although this wasnt really something I wanted to hear, I appreciated his honesty.

I woke up with Suats words ringing in my ears, wondering how much truth there was to them.  Not about to give the benefit of the doubt, I started suspecting every man I walked by.  Im sure my hangover had something to do with this, but still.  Sure, it may seem that the life of a traveler is to experience new places, and with that, new people, but Im not one of those travelers the Turkish may think I am. 

I decided to leave Istanbul the next day, for Fethiye, the Mediterranean beach place, but when I tried to get information from Sherif, he clammed up, and tour offices wouldnt help me-ony tried to sell me other services.  I was tired, and started thinking about how tired I was in general.  I realized I had been traveling for six months now, and I was exhausted.  I actually looked at flights home, but knew that I couldnt do that to my friend Ryan, or even myself.  I knew that if I cut my trip short, I would regret it.

I made friends with the Greek boy staying in the room next to mine and we decided to go for a walk.  Hes a photographer and wanted to get some photos.  We met some touts, and Alex stopped to talk. I would have just kept on walking, but I stopped and chatted as well.  I had a one on one conversation with one of them and it went something like this:

Tout: So have you known eachother long?

Me:  No we just met, were staying in the same hostel

Tout:  So you are traveling alone.  Did you go out last night?

Me:  Yes I travel alone, and yes I went out last night.

Tout: By yourself?

Me: No I went out with people I met at the hostel

Tout: Boys?

Me: Yes, in fact, I did go out with some boys.

Tout: I like openminded girls like you.

Damnit!  I didnt mean to sounds like a whore, but hell, I sure did.  Alex, my new Greek friend and I walked away, to get rid of these guys, and walked farther than I had since I got to Istanbul.  He bought a beer and I had water.  We ate some sweets as we walked around until we found a really pretty mosque.  We went inside the walls, and we both made a comment on him bringing a beer in, but he put it at his feet anyway.  A security guard came out of the shadows and told Alex to take it out.  Alex (Im guessing machismo has something to do with what happened next) got all smartassed and asked how far.  When the securtiy guard said 500 meters, Alex asked exactly how far was that.  I didnt say anything, not about to piss one of these men off, but as they got in eachothers faces I walked away to the street, to see if I could place myself within the city.  The security guard said something about me being Alexs girlfriend, so Alex then had to ‘defend’ me.  The security guard loosened his belt, and I decided right then and there I was leaving Istanbul the next day.  I know its unfair to decided something like that based on people, but I had had enough.  The security guard finally walked away, and Alex came up to me, saying That guy has some psychological problems.  What was funny is that I thought he had some problems himself, although I didnt say anything.  We went straight back to the hostel after that, and I went to bed, even more tired than I was before.

I wasnt sure if I should leave Turkey, but when I went to pick up my laundry and discovered it still wet, I was mad, because then I was stuck there.  I was glad to feel that enraged, knowing that my decision to leave was the right one.  I laid my clothes out on the roof and hoped they wouldnt fly away.  Thankfully they didnt.  I booked the return train journey I had made 3 nights previously and walked around.  I went back to Ikstalal Cadessi to see if it would do anything for me.  It didnt, so I got to the train station early and sat and read. 

One of the train conductors started talking to me while I was waiting for my passport back (nothing crazy this time) and he just stood in the cabin, asking how old I was, was I traveling alone…I told him I was tired and he reached out to massage my shoulder.  I shrugged him off and he left, upset and was cold to me for the rest of the journey.  What happend to being nice for the sake of being nice?  Guess that doesnt exist in Istanbul.

I slept well that night, with the door locked, knowing that when I awoke, I would be in Greece, very close to getting off this train.

When I arrived in Istanbul I went for some Turkish coffee with other travelers on the train-a couple from Liverpool and Nick from California.  After the sleepless night, the sludgey coffee was just what we all needed.  Nick and I were staying across the street from eachother, so we decided that after we checked in, wed check out the city together.  After I was shown to my room, the uber friendly owner took me upstairs to the rooftop terrace where breakfast was being served.  Even though I was hungry, I first took a few minutes to take in the view.  The sky was cloudless and the sun was dancing perfectly on the mediterranean, making it sparkle.  The entirety of Istanbul was laid out before me in all her beauty.  I enjoyed my breakfast of hardboiled eggs, olives, red red tomatoes,  goat chesse, and Turkish tea while I stared at my view.   It was love at first sight.

Our hostels werent too far from the main sights-the aptly named Blue Mosque and Ava (Hagia) Sofia.  Ava Sofia started out as a Christian church, became a mosque, and is now a museum.  The buidling was originally build in the sixth century AD, and it shows.  The building is painted browns and reds, and the exterior is crumbling in place, despite obvious repairs.   Its still a goregous building though.  The inside is spectacular, all huge and hollow in the middle, like a mosque should be, (except for the scaffolding taking up a good quarter of the center) , with mosaics of Jesus and Mary and other saints, which seem out of place.  I guess in the Muslim religion you arent supposed to display icons in places of worship.  The stairway at the head (?) of the building is present, with a mosaic of Jesus behind it…it was just wierd, but cool at the same time.

The Blue Mosque was built across the way from the Ava Sofia, the builders goal being to humble the church-gone-mosques appearance.  Sad to say, it does.  The Blue Mosque is indeed made of blue stone with multiple minaretes (sp?) surrounding it.  Since its these minaretes that the megaphones emitting call to prayer are on, it seemed even louder than one might imagine.  It woke me up every morning!  The interior was spectacular, but as tourists, we couldnt go in the center as it was fenced off.  It was dark inside except for the light pouring in from the high windows and the light bulbs suspended from the high ceiling dropping to only 2 or 3 meters above the ground.  We were given plastic bags to put our shoes in upon entrance, and I gasped as I realized I forgot to cover my hair before I walked in!  I felt bad, being disrespectful, but noticed other woman displaying their hair proudly.  I quickly covered my head with a scarf and walked around, just being amazed.

Nick and I parted ways in mid afternoon, as I wanted to get information on the rest of my time in Turkey.  I had 12 days before I had to meet my friend Ryan in Prague, and wasnt sure what to do with my time.  There were a few touristy things I wanted to do, like take a cruise on the Mediterranean and see some crazy natural scenery, but after a night of no sleep, I knew I was in no state of mind to make a decision.  I was so tired I was indecisive on whether or not to take a shower, or what to eat for dinner.  The hostel worker, Sherif, asked me if I would like to go out with him that night, to Taxim, the party area of Istanbul, but I was so exhausted.  I went to bed at 9pm and slept soundly until around 5am when I was woken up-startled-by the call to prayer.

The next day I met 2 brothers from Iowa, Ryan and Tanner.  I made plans with them to check out the nightlife with them,  it being Saturday.   I was glad to have a day to myself, since I really hadnt had one since before I got to Europe, and was feeling good about life, despite all the touts trying to sell me their wares and to drink tea and play backgammon with them.  As I walked by a restaurant, I saw Nick, and he invited me to sit down.  He was drinking the orangest looking orange juice I had ever seen, so I ordered one.  Although Im not a fan of pulpy orange juice, this was definately the best I have ever had.  It tasted exactly like biting into an orange, tart, pulpy, thirstquenching.  

I told Nick my plans for the day and he decided to come with me.  We took off for the spice market, since we had stumbled across the grand bazaar the previous day and werent too impressed.  We both thought the spice market better, as it felt less touristy and more aimed for the locals-but it was Saturday so that could have had something to do with it.  We crossed the bridge in search of Istiklal Cadessi, my friend Danis favourite street.  It seemed to me like the central shopping street, with lots of smaller streets branching off it.  Nick wanted to go in some shop to look for clothes.  I looked around, went outside to wait for him, and left.  I wasnt a huge fan of this guy, he was a fast walker, wanted to stop for a beer every few hours (Im on a budget!) and is impressed with things like multiple big houses in strictly white Californian suburbs, name dropping.  Not my kind of guy, so I decided to go in search of my own Istanbul experience.   I was in a peaceful solo Istanbul bliss for about an hour when I heard my name.  Nick was standing outside a restaurant, with his hands turned in a way as to say What happened?  I went over and humoured him and myself and hung out with him the rest of the day.  

On our walk up Istiklal Cadessi we saw a protest-just a bunch of university age looking people standing with red signs in this indistinguishable language.  As we walked away, we saw a ton of cops marching towards them, four abreast and about 30 rows deep-each carrying riot gear and tanks of tear gas.  As curious as we both were, we got out of there as quickly as we could.  I never found out what that was about, but later learned that protests are common in Istanbul.

We took a ferry over to the Asian side of Istanbul, nothing really different about it-just we were on the continent of Asia!  Nick wanted to get his new pants tailored, so we found a tailor, who put me in my place.  I wasnt thinking and just followed this guy in store after store in search of this tailor, wanting to see the exchange, as we didnt see any tourists, and not many people spoke English.  Nick found his man, but the tailor, seemed upset that I was present.  Another man came and ushered me to sit on a chair outside the building.  I sat with my head down, feeling silly that I had forgotten that I was in a Muslim country.  I didnt look at anyone in the face, and tried to imagine life as a Muslim woman.  No thank you.

Nick and I split ways after we got to the part of the city our hostels were in, making plans to meet later to go out.  I wasnt sure if I would meet him, as I made plans with the brothers, but everyone always ends up going out in massive groups, so I figured we would all hang out. 

As I walked back, many Turkish men tried to become my friend, trying to sell me things, hang out with me, get my name, asking why I was alone.  Upon getting to the hostel, a bit weary from my walk back, Sherif was there, all smiles, asking if we would go out tonight.  I was like, Yeah, sure whatever, and he told me he would go home at 8, be back around 930 and would I be ready?  I said sure, feeling defeated, and went upstairs to shower.  When I was in the toilet, I heard him calling my name.  Not really wanting to talk to him, I took my time.  When I got out, Sherif was standing in my doorway looking in my room.  He had come up to tell me I had the room to myself that night.  AS he turned away, he said OK see you later, and thanfully I remembered I had made other plans.  His face fell, he tightened his lips, said OK rather abrubtly and walked away.  He was cold to me for the rest of the time I was there, which made me feel uncomfortable.

I found the brothers downstairs and we went to the rooftop for happy hour.  I was supposed to meet Nick at 930, and he showed up in the bar at about 945, telling me I was late.  I almost ditched him, but for some reason he kept on finding me.  Oh well, the more the merrier.  He had an English guy with him, Lee, and after a beer the two of them left for dinner, and the brothers and I were to meet them at midnight.

Ryan, Tanner, and I started talking to the bartender and his DJ fried, and I watched and learned while the boys all played backgammon, while we all downed a few beers.  We ended up going out with them too, and met the other two on the bridge, where we headed to Taxim from there. 

We found a bar that was playing Michael Jackson that wouldnt let us in, since there were too many boys to my one girl.  We found another bar and had a beer before we moved on.  The Turkish boys took us to a traditional bar, where there was a band playing old songs, where we learned some traditional dance, which was mostly different line dances.  The music was beautiful, but sad, of course, as most traditional folk songs are, but we had a blast, learning the dances and just being in the prescense of a bunch of Turks.  We closed the bar and watched the sky grow light on our way home.