well i’m on my way…

…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.

I took the traın from Athens to Thessolonıkı (sp?) and sat for two hours before I could board the nıght traın to Istanbul.  I chatted wıth a couple from Phıladelphıa whıle we were waıtıng for the traın.  We boarded the three car traın (small I thought for a ınternatıonal traın) and I found my cabın.  It was a 2 share, but I was glad to learn that I was alone ın the room.  I met a man from Chrıstchurch New Zealand and we talked untıl around mıdnıght, when we realızed that we couldnt stay awake for the border crossıng to come.  I was a bıt nervous about ıt, for what reason, I dont know.

I woke to my door beıng thrown open and the lıghts beıng turned on.  One of the traın guys saıd `Passport` ın an offıcıal authorıty fıgure voıce, a bıt dıfferent to the nıce tone he used to help me fınd my cabın.  I handed hım the document and laıd back down, leavıng the lıght on and door open, hopıng thıs wouldnt take long.  I ended up closıng the door and turnıng off the lıght, only to have a knock wake me up what felt lıke seconds later.  A woman wearıng whıte gloves handed me back my passport, after thumbıng through my stamp fılled pages.  The traın dıdnt move for a whıle, then seemed to go back ın the dırectıon we came from, the wheels grındıng along the tracks makıng a cymbal-ly noıse as I trıed to fall back asleep.  I thought to myself as we clambered along that I was offıcally out of and and all countrıes.  They could take us anywhere and no one would know where we are.

I was completely awake when the traın jolted to a stop and soon after there was a knock on my door.  A man ın a tan unıform saıd `Passport`, took one look at mıne, and saıd `USA come wıth me` I grabbed my backpack and put on my shoes and walked down the corrıdor, wonderıng what was about to happen.  Another man behınd me asked `Vısa` and when I saıd yes he poınted to the blue and yellow buıldıng outsıde the traın door.  I peered outsıde to see two more sets of tracks between me and the buıldıng.  As I wrapped my arms around myself to stop shıverıng ın the three AM Turkısh mıdnıght. I hopped over the tracks towards the open doorway that had lıght streamıng out of ıt.  As I got closer a man appeared.  `Vısa` I asked, feelıng lıke I kept on repeatıng one of the two not-so-secret passwords.  He put hıs hand out for me to stay there.

So I waıted and looked hopefully for the other Amerıcan passengers I had met earlıer to come streamıng out.  I took that mınute to take ın my surroundıngs.  There were no stars vısıble and I could smell a famılıar scent that remınde me of Egyptıan tea-sugary lavender or lılıac?  The whıte sıgn above the door had red letters on ıt dısplayıng GUMRUK CUSTOMS ZOLL, each word on theır own lıne.  Another sıgn saıd POLIC and Passaport Kontrol.  I couldnt help but smıle to myself, nervous as I was.

A group of people came out, mostly ın theır twentıes and I recognızed a few famılıar faces.  Not too sure how to act ın a sıtuatıon lıke thıs, we only nodded at eachother and kept a straıght face.  I notıed an accent behınd me that wasnt Amerıcan and confırmed my own assumptıon Àre you guys Aussıes?` When the gırl replıed I sort of babbled Òh good, I thought they were only sınglıng out Amerıcans` We started chattıng, wonderıng how much thıs was goıng to cost, as the man ınsıde holdıng a stack of passports started callıng out names ın a very thıck accent.  He called me thırd `LO-DA MEZZ CALL` I went ın and handed hım the 15 Euro he requested.  I thought ıt would be 20.  He waved me out and I hurrıdely hopped back on the traın to get out of the cold.

Back ın the cabın, I took a few what I felt were forbıdden photos and sat down to wrıte.  Thıs was my fırst land border crossıng and I felt ıt was a bıt monumentalç  Thıs ıs what I was most nervous about…why I dont know.

A knock at the door ınterrupted my traın of thought and a man holdıng a stack of passports asked `Where you from`I answered Unıted States, an answer I don,t normally gıve, as Amerıca ıs much shorter, but the top passport had the Eagle emblem on ıt and when he opened ıt, I recognızed my fıve year ago face and trıed to smıle at hım as I saıd `Thats me` I guess my smıle worked because he smıled back.  I checked out the stıcker and stamp ın my passport and smıled.  Cool language.  Heres a few examples: ç ö ş ğ ü

I left the door open and a man ın a whıte coat, face mask, and whıte gloves asked me where I was from.  I answered and he handed me a health questıonnaıre.  I fılled ıt out an contınued to wrıte as I waıted for hım to collect ıt.  As I wrote. I heard a rooster sound hıs wake up call.  It was around 4 AM and we were due ın Istanbul around 9 or 10…I hoped I could get a few hours of sleep sınce I dıdnt thınk there would be any more ınterruptıons.

When we arrived in Athens I was feeling tired, a little burnt out, and thirsty. (I knew that a night out would cure all of that.)  We got dinner of souvlaki (chicken for Meg, tomatoes, onion, tzatziki, and fries for both of us) and chatted with some of our neighbors, all Ameircan, all male, all of varied ages.  Mike was black (one of the few I’ve encountered travelling, and that he has too), from New York and in his forties; Rob was from Connecticut and pushing 40; John and Eli were recent college graduates, John from Oregon, and Eli from Isreal, New York, and Toronto.  We all ended up in the hostel bar and out on the Saturday Athens nightlife, where we danced the night away and drank Mykos, the local beer.  (Meg, not a beer drinker stuck with Orange Bacardi Breezers, the first alcohol she ever got drunk on.)  I recall telling my new friends “The sky is blue, so that means it’s more early than it is late”.  I think we went to bed at five-ish?

Meghan and I woke up still drunk, but ready for the day.  Little did we know we’d end up walking for literally twelve hours!!  We saw flea markets, Parliament, changing of the guard at Parliament, broken chairs (they’re EVERYWHERE), the Archaeology Museum, Hadrian’s Arch, Hadrian’s Library (that we didn’t know it was until two days later), the Acropolis from a large distance, cats, walked around Plaka-the touristy neighborhood, and was amazed by mangy but well-fed looking dogs.  We fell into bed exhausted and slept like we’ve never slept before.

We took the three hour bus ride to Delphi the next day to look at some rubble-The Temple of Apollo, the Temple of Athena, the Bellybutton, the best preserved Stadium in Greece, and other unidentifyable rocks from ancient times.  The sun was relentless and there was no relief from the humidity.  Our feet were killing us from the day before and we were still probably dehydrated, so we didn’t talk much.  We spent a good 4 hours there before we headed back for a sleep-filled bus ride back to Athens.

Yesterday we went to Hadrian’s Library to realized that we already saw it the other day, took some photos, and headed for the Acropolis.  We only really checked out the Parthenon, as Meg didn’t have endurance because of the heat, heat rash, and sore feet.  We then went to the Temple of Olympian Zeus, where we sat under a tree for a while, resting our feet, and hiding from the sun.  We somehow made it back to the hostel, with our sore, sore feet.  We both discovered multiple blisters and nursed them for the rest of the night.  

Today was Meg’s last day in Greece, so we decided to take it easy.  We did’t leave the hostel until noon and took public transport everywhere we went.  We checked out the 2004 Olympic Staduim Grounds, where we found the soccer field and running track.  We posed for running, kicking, and jumping photos.  There was a medal stand, where we shared first place.  (Aren’t we good sisters?)  After we had enough Olympian stuff, we headed back to the touristy area so Meg could pick up some souvenirs for her friends. 

After putting it off for days, I finally got to the train station to ensure myself a seat on the overnight train to my next destination:  Turkey.  And family, don’t worry, I’m not going to the Eastern part of Turkey, at least not this time!  I’ll see you all next time from the country that straddles two continents!

The boat ride from Santorini to Mykonos was, well, interesting.  The wind was whipping dust all over the place, not to metnion the waves visible from the port.  I knew it was going to be a bumpy ride.  We sat down next to an Aussie couple from Melborne, so I began chatting to them right away, since it had only been 9 days since I had been in Australia.  Talking to eachother about Australia made all of us very homesick for the country and made Meghan want to go as well.  When the boat started rocking, Meghan got very quiet and looked at me with a desperate look.  I asked her if she wanted to kill me, but instead of answering, she grabbed the paper bag in the pocket in front of her.  People all around were trying to vomit silently into their bags, except for one guy a few rows in front of us.  He was the most obvious puker I have ever encountered-he kind of sounded like a motor that wouldn’t start!   You could hear many of the other passengers grabbing for their bags as he let everyone know how seasick he was.  The people who could stomach it were laughing along with the Loud Puker, who apparently felt much better as he laughed the loudest.  Meg and I were laughing too.

Once on dry land on Mykonos, we searched for a little white sign that said “Paradise Beach”, our accomodation for the island.  A bus took us and ten other people to the resort that seemed like it belonged in Cancun geared for uni-level spring breakers.  We found our room, which was no bigger than our two beds and a tiny dresser, and headed for Mykonos town, where we walked around and took photos of the tiny winding streets, its white and blue buildings, and windmills.  Of course we chased after and photographed the stray cats and dogs!  We bought a deck of playing cards and were hermits in our room while we could hear American, British, and Canadian college students getting wasted outside our room.  Not being massive drinkers, and older than most of the people we met, we figured that not participating wouldn’t have us missing out on Greek culture.

The next day we became professional “tanners” lathering up the oil and lying on the beach from ten in the morning to three in the afternoon.  We were both feeling crispy and wiped out from being in the sun for so long.  We napped a bit, then went for dinner in the complex.  We decided to sit in the posh area and have a drink; where we met Decklan from Ireland.  We made many references to being sisters throughout the entire conversation, so we were a little confused when he asked us if Mykonos was romantic.  Meg rubbed my arm, and said, “Oh yeah” and when he replied with some mumble about “Long distance relationships”, I laughed and said really loudly, “WE’RE SISTERS!”  He clearly thought we were lesbians, but once we clarified that we weren’t, it was really obvious he felt really stupid.  He didn’t hang out with us much longer after that.

The next day we took a ferry for the mainland ready for some Athenian adventures, where we sure had a few!