Cliffs Notes to Sarah and Tyler’s World Trip

My friends Sarah and Tyler recently came back from their 7-month trip around the world.  The trip spanned these places: Peru, Bolivia, Chile, Easter Island, Tahiti, New Zealand, Tasmania, Vietnam, Cambodia, India, South Africa, Kenya, Egypt, Turkey, Bulgaria, Romania, Hungary, and Germany.

While they were traveling, they wrote updates from their trip in their blog: Strange and Benevolent.  This blog is long.  It’s 136 detailed entries.  If you were to, say, copy and paste it into Microsoft Word, you’d find that it has 138,985 words and spans 305 pages; and that doesn’t even include the pictures.  So, while originally I intended to follow their stories as they happened, I quickly fell way behind.  It took several train rides from Seattle to Portland and back where I did nothing but read their blog before I was caught up (thank you Google Reader!).  Yes, I’m a slow reader.

While I read their blog, I copied aside my favorite quotes.  I had a plan that in the end I would write my own blog entry as a sort of tribute / cliff’s notes to their trip.  Well, my little blog entry mushroomed into something bigger than I intended it to be, but here it is anyways.  Also, some of these quotes may not make sense out of context, but I think you’ll find them amusing nonetheless.

—

Sometime, in ancient history, the entire world got together and decided the “Rules of the Road.” After the Rules had been carefully laid out, America implimented them. And, to this day, we still follow them to the letter. Meanwhile, the rest of the World shrugged, said “meh” and threw them out the window of their car. “Let America follow those rules” the rest of the World said, “I´ve got somewhere to go.” Stoplights? Optional. Four lanes on the road? Perfect for six cars. And while America has only mastered the “I hate you with a passion” style of honking the horn. The rest of the world has turned it onto a subtle instrument that, I´m sure, would allow them to recite poetry if they so choose.

Meanwhile, the only accident we´ve seen is what appeared to be a fender bender between two sets of Americans in rental cars. I´m sure there is a message here somewhere.

—

(in Peru)
…the sand cliffs of the (oddly named) Yitzhak Rabin Park where we could look down at the surfers below us…

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…really, really epic billboards. One billboard was a massive six-story tall woman who appeared to be standing next to the road, looking at her even more mammoth shoe closet. Another was a pair of thirty foot tall flip-flops rising from either side of the highway. And a final pair of signs featured dozens of male mannequins in matching blue or red jump suits hanging from it by hooks. Surreal.

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And, luckily, I didn’t get pooped on again.

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it is actually a drink made from fermented purple corn, with cinnamon, pineapple, clove, sugar and lemon juice.

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The lines were everything I´d hoped them to be, and pretty much everything you´d expect giant drawing in the desert to be…Unfortunately, the tour was also over by 9am, leaving Sarah and I with a day to burn in Nasca, a place which even the owner of our hotel described as “a dusty, half horse town with nothing to do.”

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Finally, imagine having a guy sitting in the row behind you throw up. And then having him spend the next two hours locked in the bathroom, vomiting loudly the whole time.

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…because nothing says “Peru” like crepes, right?”

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That night, we were awoken by another small earthquake. I get the feeling they are a little more common here than in Seattle

—

…we weren´t sure when to go from Pepto and some Immodium to the hardcore stuff. Turns out that was today.

I got to experience something that I’m pretty sure had gone the way of the dodo even before my parents time: A doctor’s house call.

The doctor was everything you could hope for from a Peruvian doctor. A short, professional man in a dark suit who asked me a number of questions in a clipped, attentive manner that stopped just shy of ending each sentence with “idiota turista.”

“Did you eat anything from any street vendors (idiota turista)? Did you travel along the coast (idiota turista)? Did you drink water from a mud puddle (idiota turista)?”

—

the graves were often struck by lightening because of the metal objects buried only 1 meter from the surface

—

Apparently the name “Sarah” is “muy bonita” …but the name “Tyler” is pretty much incomprehensible. Here’s a normal conversation:

“What is your name?”
“Tyler.”
*Blank stare*
“Ty-ler.”
“Ty-lor.”
“Si. Yes. Tyler.”
“What does Tylor mean, in English?”
“You know the things in bathrooms? The little plates on the floor and the wall?”
“Si.”
“Well, in English, those are tiles. So, Tyler means someone who puts in tiles. A Tile-r.”
*Blank stare, as they ponder the ramifications of being named after someone who installs things into a bathroom.*
“But, honestly, in the States, our names don’t mean anything.”

—

Then, as we made our way to the next ruin, a car drove by and a water balloon hit me square in the chest! Punk Peruvian teenagers!!!

—

After that, we made our wat to the final site: Sacsayhuaman. Now, pause for a second, and say that name outloud, and you´ll see why its the one name on this trip that might make me giggle more than “titicaca.” As we made our way to the site, I let Sarah walk a little ahead of me, and repeatedly said: “I think I see Sacsayhuaman ahead.”

—

There is no “@” sign on the Spanish keyboard, which makes emailing difficult

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Most houses and buildings also have this halfway finished look about them, with rebar sticking out of the roof or a half built upstairs

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BOLIVIA

And, we even saw a lunar ecplise while eating dinner the first night

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since it was an island with limited contact with the mainland, there were basically three choices for dinner in each restaurant: trout, omelettes or spaghetti. We did see one place advertising hamburgers, but when we sat down and looked at their menu, “hamburgers” had been crossed out, leaving (you guessed it) trout, omelettes and spaghetti. To be fair, their spaghetti was very good

—

Our first stop was to go to the salt flats. In the dry season, they must looked like a big field of dried salt, but during the rainy season, they get about two inches of water covering them which leads to a surreal and magical look where the sky and clouds reflect in the water and from a distance, piles of salt and mountains appear to levitate above the surface.

—

Interestingly, the three ‘couples’ all had different foods we were avoiding to avoid illness. Tyler and I wouldn´t eat the raw cabbage/tomato salad at dinner. The Israelis would’t eat the yogurt that had probably never been refrigerated, but that was all over Peru and Bolivia, and weren’t sure about the eggs (also sans refrigeration). Julia wouldn´t eat ice cream in case it had water in it.

—

First off, if any of you were wondering what Smokey Robinson has been up to recently, apparently he´s moved to southern Bolivia, where he is a driver for tours on the Salar de Uyuni.

—

CHILE

Oh, and a flag that is disconcertingly like the the Texas flag….

—

We did find an internet cafe, but after typing for roughly 10 minutes, the girl running the cafe walked up to us and asked us questions we didn´t understand. It was only after a larger man came, stood behind me and said “bye bye” menacingly in English that we realized it was time to go.

—

When they told us that Isreali´s have a bad reputation abroad, I didn´t immediately believe it. That is until at the border between Bolivia and Chile when our bus driver started yelling at them, saying “you Isreali´s better not be trying to sneak some cocaine across the border!”

—

It doesn´t help that the exchange rate for the US dollar to Chile peso is 1 to 525. So, a the bill for a $12 meal reads as $6300. Also, we´ve seen Dollar Stores in Chile. They are “$500 Stores.”

—

The weird side effect of this is that while the people in Seattle used to only have a 1 hour time difference from us her in Chile… you now have a 3 hour time difference. Crazy, ain´t it!

—

last time I was in Santiago, I remember thinking to myself while I was at Cerro San Lucia: “If that girl I just started dating, Sarah, was here, I´d totally make out with her here!” And now, three years later (and thanks to the wonders of allergy medicine) I was able to make that dream a reality.

—

But I will mention one thing: If you are ever hoping to watch a dramatic sunset behind a line of Moai on the beach… just make sure there are no female dogs in heat present. Having two male dogs begin fighting next to you is less than a romantic.

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The bus ride (which was maybe 45 minutes long) reinforced the fact that the rest of the world considers sometime around the year 1984 to be the apex of American Music

—

pretty much every American we’ve run into on this trip seems to be from Seattle. I’m convinced that only Seattlites travel abroad

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Unfortnately, when it came time to actually buy them, our bank card was denied. Several increasingly desperate phonecalls to the bank later, it was determined that our card had been put on hold because the bank had grown suspicious of all the purchases made abroad.

—

At the end of their last email, they told us rather cryptically “we will leave you a little something something at the iSite in the international terminal in auckland. check behind the “City Life Hotel” pamphlets in the Auckland hotels section.”

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Another fun thing about the spaceship is it’s a little like you’ve joined a little club–we’ve had a few other spaceship sightings, and there’s always lots of waving and light-flashing, which makes for fun moments on the road.

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Glowworms are strange creatures. They only live in New Zealand and four states of Australia, they live about 11 months, most of the time spent as a pupae, and once they become a full-fledged insect, they live for 1-5 days, mate, die and serve as food for other pupae. But they are fascinating! They glow in order to attract water bugs that wander into the caves. The bugs get attracted by the glowing lights, thinking that it’s the way back out, but instead they get trapped in the multitude of mucus strings that the glowworms “spin” to catch their prey.

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Even though I enjoyed the three Lord of the Ring films, I was actually planning on ignoring their connection to New Zealand in the same way that I was planning on ignoring Bungee Jumping and Zorbing

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Now, I must say, the Kiwis know how to do camping and road trips. The campsites we’ve stayed at so far have been incredibly well-equipped. At a minimum, they all include a nice “amenities block” which includes a kitchen with sinks and stoves/burners and bathrooms and showers–with hot water!

—

we continued on to Whakapapa Village (pronounced, as you might have guessed, “Fakapapa”

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And though I hadn’t put two and two together, the golden sand is what leads to the amazing green color of the water. (Yellow and blue make….ah!)

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We spent the first part of the morning arguing over steering and then our speed (the slowest in the group) only to find out that Tyler had been holding the paddle backwards. That helped things a bit. I think it suffices to say that we could both benefit from some core and upper body strengthening

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mountain passes that seemed to be impersonating the intestinal tract of a contortionist

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they had the convenient hours sign of “11-4PM Most Days;” apparently our day swinging by wasn’t one of their open ones.

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One of the funny things about travelling is that, whenever you meet someone, the first thing you ask is where they are from. After that, you usually ask them where they’ve been travelling. Then you ask where they are going next. Then, after that, you ask them their name… maybe.

—

we have no idea what this switch does, but occasionally we just have to “turn up the Japanese” a bit.

—

Though the blowholes weren’t active (it needed to be high tide), the “pancake rocks” were alien and fascinating

—

We were just a few minutes out of the town of Haast, doing about 110 kilometers an hour, when something that sounded like a feathery hackey-sack hit our windshield

—

That gave us the excuse to put our X-Treme LifeStyle™ on hold. So, while we had initially planned on driving a para-gliding jet-boat attached to bungee-cords off a waterfall into a field of Zorb-balls, instead we decided to sleep in and enjoy and extra cup of tea before exploring the village.

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Apparently, the third eye no longer works, and is only really visible when the tuatara is young but still… it has a third eye!

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it seems to combine our favorite elements of both Soccer and American Football. (oh, and they had commercials for sheep medicine during the advertisment breaks

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Kiwi’s seem to be fond of hiking straight up hills… no switch-backs here

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I don’t care where you are in the world, but I want you to drop what you are doing and run (don’t walk) to Puzzling World! Now!

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And, if its not sheep its cows. Or deer… yes, they actually farm deer here. There is nothing more bizarre to see a pasture filled with a herd of deer

—

I’m reminded of a conversation Sarah and I had with a beer producer in Haines, Alaska. We asked him if he exported his beer much, and here basically replied: “Not at all. I believe that beer should be a local thing. Not only does it help give a region its identity, but also allows travellers to experience something new when they visit.”

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“ALL SHURIKENS AND NINJA STARS MUST BE DECLARED AT CUSTOMS.” Awesome!

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Earlier this week, when I was unpacking in Hobart, I noticed that the head of my shaving razor was missing. Well, today I found it when I plunged my hand into my bag and proceeded to shred the end of my right middle finger on it

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As you probably all know, Australia started out as England’s penal colony. Well, during that time, Port Arthur was Australia’s penal colony. So, to end up there, you had to mess up bad enough to get shipped to Australia… then mess up again to get shipped to Port Arthur

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It was also called the Silent Prison because prisoners (and even guards) weren’t allowed to talk. In fact, guards even went so far as to cover the ground with turf and wear silk slippers over their boots so that not even their footsteps made a sound

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when we got back from the hike we discovered that a tour group had basically taken over the rest of the bunk rooms, and had completely filled one of the kitchens in a cacophony of “bro”s, “dudes” and “can I bum a smokes?”

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First, picture the largest race you can. Something like the Boston Marathon.

Now, picture that race occuring on every street of the city at the same time.

Still with me?

OK, now give each runner a moped.

(Saigon)

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First up, we navigated a narrow river that took us to a coconut candy “factory” where they showed us how they made the candy. This was followed by the obligatory chance to buy some candy. But, it was quite good, so we obliged.

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A meat stand at the market… yep folks, that meat up front is rat.

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(motorcycle trip in Vietnam…)
Literally the whole trip, there were these pale yellow butterflies everywhere.

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When I went to show them their picture, most of them ran away.
(A group of boys at a school)

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…we met the matriarch of the group. Our guides told us she was 104 years old, which makes her probably the oldest person I’ve ever met

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generally Sarah and I can create and edit blog entries… but are unable to view our own blog (and our friends blogs) most of the time.

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As some of you probably know, Southeast Asia is somewhat of a Mecca for cheap tailoring. And, if Southeast Asia is Mecca, then Hoi An is the Masjid al-Haram.

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Young people in Vietnam seem to look extraordinarily young for a long time. A group of giggling girls I took for 13 were 18.

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I imagine now there’s a family in Saigon or Hanoi looking through a family member’s pictures saying, “Look! White people looking at rice! How funny!”

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There are about four channels most Vietnamese families get: VT1, VT2, VT3 and apparently the Cartoon Network. They often show American movies on the national channels, but they are always dubbed. By one women. In a monotone voice.

—

Let me first start by saying that the ledge we were jumping off was really slick. Let me follow up by saying that, when I hit the water, fifteen-odd feet below, I was effectively doing a reverse belly-flop.

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Still, there is something entirely different between seeing a cow crossing a rural road. And suddenly coming across a herd of cows in a crowded downtown Dehli street. And every street in Dehli is crowded.

—

(fucking india…)
for every location of note he brought us to (the old fort, the President’s house, the India Gate), he’d take us by one shop where we’d be stuck having people try to hard sell us Inidan handcrafts for 15 minutes. When we complained about the shops, he’d plead back to us: “But they give me gas vouchers. Please, do it for me.”

—

But then, one teenage girl got up the courage to ask: “Can we take a picture with you?” This opened the floodgates. Next thing Sarah and I knew, we were being swarmed by Indian tourists who all wanted their picture with us. Bizarre, yet soft of flattering, Sarah and I made our way across the complex stopping to have our picture taken every couple of meters.

—

We’ve probably totally forgotten how to have a conversation that isn’t about travel.

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Note: After typing this all out the first time, Blogger decided to eat my entry. I’m sure that there is some Buddhist message about patience I should have learned. But sadly, instead, I just threw a massive fit…

—

(in Ladakh)
In addition, the roads generally aren’t paved, but the Border Road Organization (or, humorously acronymed “BRO”) is fond of putting up signs touting its own greatness or just providing road safety advice in a broken English that we’ve taken to calling “drunken Confucious” (for example: “Be Mr. Late, Not Late Mr.” or “Drive with Safety, so you can have “safe tea” at home.”

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The gonpa itself was closed, but a monk that was hanging around outside let us into one room where we could see a number of statues. Interestingly, the faces were covered on all the statues and would only be shown once a year.

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Tibetan Prayer Flags – its amazing how something that looks so trite hanging from a college students dorm wall can look so cool in the right context.

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Apparently all that exists between Leh and Manali are mountains.  We climbed up and down mountains for almost the entire journey. At one point, we saw a sign at the pass saying we were at 16,500 feet!

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You do have to admire their fortitude for skiing without a chair lift.

—

we’re tempted to leave here early to have more time at Dharamsala/Mcleod Ganj, but that would mean more conversations with the travel agent. There is still sexism here, and sadly it is better for Tyler to deal with most issues, and he’s getting pretty sick of talking to them.

—

Everyone says–even we said–that India is the hardest place to travel in. That you’ll experience high highs and low lows. I just didn’t expect the lows to be so low and the highs to be so few and far between…We were supposed to be smart, seasoned travellers. And now it felt like India was kicking my butt.

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So, apparently, our bus to Dharamsala thought that it was good enough just to get us within 15 kilometers of Dharamsala and ditch us on a corner in the middle of the night.

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“Screw that noise. We’re going to McLeod Ganj.”

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she and her husband can have the cooking school since it’s in their home, but they can’t open a restaurant since they don’t have passports. Some local Tibetans find Indian partners to be the owner in name, but they often have trouble with the police. As she put it, when the policemen want to drink, they’ll go around and ask for passports and basically scare the refugees into paying them bribes to stay out of trouble.

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Buddhism rests upon the concepts of the Four Noble Truths. Which read as follows (Tyler paraphrased version):

1) Life is suffering.
2) Suffering is caused by desire or craving.
3) To cease suffering, you must cease desiring.
4) See the Eightfold Path for more details.

Now, in our case, I think it bears looking at the Second Noble Truth. Basically, we were suffering because of our desire to have the travel agency provide us with a good vacation. Now, obviously, they seemed to be incapable of delivering what we desired. So, in order to stop suffering, it only makes sense that we cease desiring their assistance.

So, to those ends, we’ve told them we wish to cancel our agreement with them. At first they were resistant. But, through our persistance we’ve finally gotten them to agree. Unfortunately, even having cancelled our agreement, Sarah and I were still suffering a bit. Why? Because now we desired our money back. This was something that they’ve also been resistant to…

—

…a flower-bedecked groom on horseback, followed by lots of children holding glowing lanterns. The lanterns were actually all connected and electric, so they in turn were followed by a truck towing a humming generator

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And, of course, the auto-rickshaw broke down halfway there. I’ve come to realize that, in India, pretty much everything just barely works

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two corners later, my bag goes flying off the roof of the van and tumbling across the (thankfully) empty intersection

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Pushkar actually has a ban on alcohol (as well as meat, including eggs).

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suddenly, as the singing and music faded, we saw a sight that we’d be told about, but which still made our eyes grow wide: Thousands of bats filled the sky

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Sarah and I have both been getting sick about once a month from one thing or another

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When we first arrived in Delhi, there was unrest in Rajasthan, the area we’re in. Unrest as in policemen being killed, police stations being burnt down, roadblocks and tearing up railroad tracks. The best we could figure out about the situation when asking around had to do with the still existing caste system. There are a group of people in Rajasthan called Gujers. Apparently, they were tribal people outside of the government caste system and were quite well off. But times have changed and they want some of the protections and benefits of caste status. Like American affirmative action, government jobs are doled out in percentages to different groups, and the Gujers want a piece of the action. Ironically, this seems to mean being downgraded to a lower caste than they would be considered now. And the existing castes don’t want to lose any of their benefits, so it’s a difficult situation. The riots were called off when the government agreed to have talks about the Gujers status. And, apparently, those talks are happening today. In Pushkar. While we didn’t see anything too out of the ordinary on our way out of town, 2500 policemen were being shipped in, and our guesthouse owner said she saw Gujers arrive with guns.

—

Oh–and when I was sick and thought about talking to a doctor, I couldn’t see the nearby doctor because he was busy treating a guy who’d been gored by a bull in the market that morning. The local cows seemed a lot less docile the rest of that day. (And I’m still curious what they do with a bull that’s gored someone. They can’t kill it–cows are holy–but it can’t be safe to leave them around town. We still don’t know the answer…..)

—

Sheesha, the sister, invited us to join the family celebration the next night for her nephew’s fifth birthday. Just a small party, she said, 40 to 50 guests, with traditional Rajasthani food. We were delighted.

—

Now, we’ve run into several people who have been to Agra and only looked at the Taj from the view across the river, and said that it was all they needed to do. Their argument is that the entrance cost to the Taj itself is too high. And, while I agree 750 Rupees (about $18 US) is a lot, comparatively; Sarah and I also knew that we had to go in. I mean, we’ve payed thousands of dollars to get to this point. To stop and only see it from across the river seemed a little goofy. Like climbing Everest, stopping 100 meters shy of the summitt, and going “y’know, the views good enough from here, I’m going back down.”

—

That evening, we had a pleasant meal on a rooftop restaurant overlooking the Taj. Around us, hundreds of people mysteriously were flying kites, the city sky filled with them

—

Now, losing a hat might seem like a little thing, but it was a big thing for me. After Sarah, that hat had become my constant companion and best friend on the trip.

—

So, let me just tackle it head on and make one observation: The white people here are really white. I mean, their complexion is so pale and their hair so blond that they make Sarah look like she’s from the Mediterranean. In addition, they are very… well… preppy…

And what about the blacks? The other 80% of the South African population?

Well, as a white tourist, its a little more difficult to meet and get to know them. The closest analogy I can make would be to Latinos in LA. On an average day, you see black Africans but generally working in service positions – waiters, cooks, parking lot attendants, etc. There is a general sense that things have improved since the Apartheid, but for the most part whites and blacks seem to live in seperate, parrallel worlds.

—

We realized when we returned that night that all the Americans had ended up in one jeep together, so we jokingly called ourselves “Team America.”

—

(chimps in a reserve in S. Africa)
They’re pretty sad stories. One was used as a gimmick in a bar and was addicted to alcohol and cigarettes. Another was tied up outside a petrol station. Some were family pets who got too big and strong for their owners.

—

While New Zealand might be the King of Campgrounds, South Africa is the King of Rest Stops. Their Rest Stops are these enormous and elaborate affairs which generally include, but aren’t limited to a gas station, a small store, a fast food place, a play area and park, an ATM and the largest bathrooms I’ve ever seen this side of Vegas.

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This is ostrich country. Big-time.

—

It was the Cape Mountain Zebra. And there were three of them. They are endangered, and it’s rare to see them, especially three. When we told the woman at the guesthouse, she said she’d never seen one in this area as long as she’s lived here!

—

You had to be under 75 kilos though to ride one, so that ruled out the well-feed South African family that was on the tour with us. So, it fell on my shoulders to demonstrate the fine art of ostrich riding.

They put a bag over the ostriches head while you climb on.  Ostriches are so massively stupid that they basically can’t function when they have a bag over their head.

Once the bag comes off, the ostrich suddenly realizes it has a human sitting on its back, and takes off running.

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they are called Jackass Penguins because the sound they make sounds almost exactly like a donkey braying.

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“Warning, please look under your vehicles for penguins.”

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These spdier crabs creeped me out. They’re huge. Their main body is, like, the size of my head.

—

Since we left on our trip, we’ve been holding what we’ve dubbed the World Dominos Championship. Several times a week, on a slow evening or afternoon, we play dominos. We generally play to 100 points. But, in addition, we also have a running score with both country winners, continent winners and -eventually- a grand champion. Currently, I’m winning overall but Sarah has the lead for South Africa.

—

Several years ago, when people asked Donald what he was doing in Kenya, he’d give vague answers about how he’d “started a film production school in Nairobi.” But, I think it was safe to say that my friends and I generally had sort of presumed that it was a crackpot scheme… the sort of thing that many of my friends seemed to get mixed up in the years immediately following College. So, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was, well, a real, legitimate school!

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Vincent, two wives and fifteen children live together in the boma

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The family then had us go into the cattle enclosure for a photo–cows are incredibly important in traditional families

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Then we noticed that all the black dots we had presumed were rocks on a distant hillside weren’t rocks… they were more wildebeests. Thousands and thousands of other wildebeests.

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Since he’s Maasai, he’s not supposed to be afraid of lions. I, on the other hand, can be as afraid as I like.

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Donald’s friend had just found a place, bought half a goat, and invited everyone over to celebrate in the Kenyan way. Except that he didn’t really know what to do with the goat.

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Sarah’s camel, who’s head was effectively right next to my head, was nothing but burps and gargling bellows.

Meanwhile, my camel enjoyed letting out dusty farts every time it sat down for me to dismount.

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The tunnel into the pyramid was narrow, and angled down at something like a 30 degree slope. Making my way down, I had to scramble with my knees almost to my ears, with other tourists directly in front and behind me.

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Since that time, the Egyptian government has all but eliminated the group, but to this day tourists are still required to travel in convoys through certain portions of Egypt.

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The entire Abu Simbel temple was cut into pieces, and rebuilt 200 meters back (and 65 meters higher). And then a small mountain was built around it.

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One thing to know about Egypt before coming: everything is more expensive than you expect because of baksheesh, or the culture of tipping.

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One thing you notice right away is that it is incredibly green and lush by the banks of the Nile, but it rapidly becomes sandy and arid away from the water

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But the Brazilians were not pleased, demanding that they get a refund. Their logic was that if the boat would be shared by more people, the cost to each of us should be less.

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One thing that did grab my attention was the mummified crocodiles on display in part of the ruins. I mean, Mummified Crocodiles!!

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“No, you don’t have malaria. You have amoebas.”

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“And the waters. Of the Nile. Burst forth. From my sandals.”

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“See! This is you stomach! And here, your kidneys. Good kidneys. And your bladder. You ate about two hours ago, didn’t you (which was true). And here… here is your heart. Nice heart.”

I’ve never had the opportunity to see my heart before. Frankly, it was pretty darned cool.

—

And you know what I like as much as Istanbul? Whirling Dervishes.

Random person: What are you doing?
Sufi: I’m spinning.
Random person: Why?
Sufi: To get closer to God.

Who am I to argue with that logic?

—

I was totally fascinated by the chandeliers in the blue Mosque. The ceiling was massive and domed, yet they hung to barely above head level, giving the place the feeling of being both giant and intimate.

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Yup. In addition to it being our first full day in Turkey, and our 6 month travel Anniversary, the day also marked the completion of our second year of marriage. And what a happy and amazing two years its been!

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I’m still enjoying our journey–we’re incredibly lucky and blessed to be doing this–but my thoughts are more often turning to Seattle

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Things got off to a rocky start when our guide stepped on a bee and got stung right before we were about to leave

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Um… yeah. There’s no way to photograph those without them looking phallic.
(fairy chimneys in Goreme, Turkey)

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Back at the hostel, while the British girls washed the dust off themselves and examined imaginary thistle wounds in the mirror; I grabbed a beer and Sarah and I headed for the rooftop pool

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Flames appear to come out of the earth due to methane leaks, and it’s fascinating to see the fires that have no fuel source and have been burning for centuries

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I quickly learned that the Mediterranean is incredibly salty…   By the end, our towel felt a bit like cardboard and all our clothes looked a bit ashy. I always thought the phrase “salty sailor” was a euphemism for the attitude; now I know it came from a real physical state!

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So it is now that we will go to Bulgaria, Romania, and Hungary for the final two weeks of our travels. That’s definitely one thing I’ll miss when we’re back State-side–being able to decide on a whim to travel through places I’d never even considered before, just because we have the time and they’re there and we can.

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I mention this only because the thought passed through my mind several times during our walk to the next site we were seeing: Mary’s House. And, by Mary I mean *the Mary*. As in the person who changed Jesus’ diapers.

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The city is modern, but in that sort of dorky Eastern European way where people dress like they’ve discovered every single fashion statement from 1950 to 1990 all at the same time (which, in some regards, is the case)

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I was fiddling with the pesky curtain so I could look out past the walkway through the window at the countryside. At some point, though, my efforts pulled the curtain and rod off the doorway and into my lap. I sat a bit red-faced, then Tyler and I managed to re-connect it. I finally looked around at the others in our car (now including the husband) who were smiling in amusement.

(on a train in Romania)

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Bran Castle has a reputation as being “Dracula’s Castle,” but the history doesn’t hold up, despite all the tacky souvenirs with Dracula-inspired themes (and excuses to include scantily clad women in distress).

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Then we wandered down to find Rope Street, so called because it is one of the narrowest streets in Europe, less than 2 meters wide.

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“gah!!” Why was Sarah attacking my feet!? But, it turned out it wasn’t Sarah. It was Darko, the hostel’s kitten.

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The mud on the trail was almost clay-like though, building up on the soles until you felt like you were wearing uneven platform shoes.

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He was very forward with both us and the hostel staff about the fact that he was a Lonely Planet writer. No, “secret shopper” routine.

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Only then did I realize: She wasn’t asking us for directions… she thought we were lost, and was trying to give us directions.

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Sit in a steam room and sweat, plunge breifly into a cold water pool, relax for a while in a hot pool, and repeat. Leaving the baths about two hours later, we felt like neither of us had a muscle left in our bodies.

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When the original opera house was burning down, the firefighters tried to get beer from the neighboring beer hall to use to put out the fire. The people in the beerhall refused. So, the new opera house was built using money raised from taxing beer.

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At the edge of the park is a section of river where the current forms a perpetual wave that surfers visit from miles around to try.

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A large beer at the Hofbraeuhaus: 1 liter!

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As I lay there, two thoughts kept going through my mind:

1) Why can’t they just turn off the lights and go to sleep!
2) They are going to hate life when Sarha and I get up in an hour and a half and start packing our bags to go.

Clearly, seven months on the road has made me a more compassionate person.

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Sarah and I have made it back to the States safe and sound. Since then, we’ve been busy getting caught up with friends and family, and generally just getting used to “normal life” again (in my case, “normal” loosely means “being a 31 year old, unemployeed, married male, living at his parents house”).

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