Return to the U.S.

Exams are finally over and there's two days left until we arrive in Norfolk, Virginia. I doubt I'll have time to write about Morocco by then but I intend to get around to it eventually. But in case I don't, I wanted to wrap up this blog and say that my decision to go on semester at sea was quite possibly the single best decision I've ever made in my life. It's been the most exciting, fun and eye-opening summer I've ever had, and I'm sure the things I learned and experienced in this voyage will influence what I do for the rest of my life.  I've made friends all around the country, and interacting with the students and faculty on this ship has opened up the world for me in so many ways.  I signed up for this trip thinking this would be the ultimate travel experience, but now I see this as just the beginning of my traveling career.  If anyone's interested in learning about this program, I'd love to share my experience with you and give you advice - you can reach me at shane.rasnak@gmail.com.  Thanks for reading.

Egypt Part II

Day Three

I woke early in the morning and got ready for a trip I’d been waiting for since the very beginning of the voyage.  We boarded a bus and took the same three-hour ride back to Cairo to see the pyramids of Giza once more.  As we got into town on the long stretch of road from Alexandria to Cairo, the silhouettes of the three pyramids came into view in the distance.  Driving up next to them they seemed infinitely bigger than when I saw them at night during the lights show.  Unlike many historic sites that tend to fall short of our grand expectations, the pyramids in real life do not disappoint.  I had pictured the pyramids as having small steps that you could climb, but in actuality they’re made of enormous cubes of stone, some taller than the average person.  We were first taken to a site about a kilometer away for a panoramic view of all three pyramids.  We hopped off the bus and were immediately pounced on by merchants trying to sell headdresses and other souvenirs.  Others walked around with camels, scamming unsuspecting students by offering to take pictures of them on the camels then forcing them to pay for a ride.  I saw one guy yelling, “Let me down! I’m not paying for a ride!” as the huge camel walked off with him somewhere, but I had better things to attend to.  We took some group pictures then got back on the bus to see the pyramids up close.  On the way there our guide offered to take us into the second pyramid for about ten bucks, so I signed up with a few others – after all how many people can say they’ve been in a pyramid?  Once we arrived the guide took us straight to the base of the middle pyramid.  There was a long slanted surface going down into the ground, and you had to crouch as you descended the steps because the opening was about four feet high.  Eventually it leveled off into a stuffy corridor, which led to another set of steps going back up into the middle of the pyramid.  Feeling a little claustrophobic in the oven-like corridor I hustled up the steps and ended up in a small chamber.  Against the wall was an empty stone casket (I’m guessing it wasn’t the original), but otherwise the room was dark and empty.  After a few minutes I had seen enough and went back down and up the stairs to get outside.  It wasn’t the most exciting thing but well worth the ten bucks to see the tomb of an ancient king.  We had about fifteen minutes left to take in the sight of the pyramids from outside, so we took some pictures and walked around until we had to leave.  Next we took a short drive down to see the Sphinx.  We walked through a crumbling building and found ourselves about fifty feet away from the legendary stone figure.  After admiring the Sphinx for about half an hour we were driven to a private country club back in Cairo, where a parking lot full of Jeeps were awaiting us.  Six of us hopped in and we immediately took off for a ride through the desert.  Our driver spoke no English but quickly sensed that we wanted to go off the road.  We bounced around against the ceiling, startled but laughing as he drove up and down the dunes.  Never in my life did I expect to go on a jeep safari in the desert in Egypt, but things got even crazier from there.  As I stuck my head out from the window I saw in the distance a massive line of camels sitting in the middle of the desert, and the jeep sped toward it and stopped.  The doors flung open and we were led out – and before I knew what was going on a guy handed me a whip and helped me up onto a camel.  Making a sound that was like a cross between a cow and a dinosaur, the camel stood up and I was suddenly seven feet high in the air.  The man that helped me on took the rein and started leading the camel as I struggled to maintain my balance on the massive hump.  Our caravan of about thirty camels mobilized, and we spent about half an hour strolling through the desert.  Eventually we made it back to the country club where we were treated to an amazing buffet of shawerma, pasta, fresh fruit and bizarre pastries.  After lunch we drove to our final spot: the Step Pyramid of Zoser, which is said to be the first pyramid ever built in Egypt.  We walked through a 5,000 year-old building and arrived in a huge empty square, at the end of which stood a series of massive stone steps that rose into the sky.  We spent some time wandering around and admiring the pyramid, then finally boarded the bus to head back to Alexandria.  Three hours later, we were back on the ship.  After two hectic days figuring out our way through Cairo, it was great to have such an incredible day completely planned for us.  I didn’t have to worry about a thing, and it was one of the most amazing experiences of the summer.  After having dinner on the ship, the three of us walked around in search of a bar.  We wandered along the corniche, stopping for ice cream at a Baskin Robbins.  As we passed a dark alley I caught a glimpse of a sign: The Spitfire Bar.  I recognized the name from a WikiTravel article on Alexandria, which listed the few bars that existed in the city.  Despite its sketchy entrance, we decided to walk in.  Right as we entered a man came out from behind the bar and asked where we were from.  Upon hearing our answer he greeted us with a wide smile and asked another question: what would you like to drink? Happily we sat down at a table with Sakkara bottles in hand, taking in the atmosphere.  It was a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, but there was a very unique feel about it.  Bob Marley was playing on the speakers, there were flags from all over hanging overhead, and the wall was covered with sailors’ photographs and scribbled writing in black markers.  The bar owner Ari brought over a crumpled and faded magazine article that had been written about the bar some years back.  It said that the bar had been in the same family for three generations, and was a popular spot for sailors who were stationed in Alexandria during the wars.  Ari proudly recounted how Eisenhower, Jim Carrey and some other famous Americans had been there as well.  We spent the rest of the night talking, enjoying the beer and reading the countless messages on the walls.  Eventually we said goodbye to Ari and walked back to the ship.

Day Four

I slept in and had a late breakfast at 11:30, where I ran into the girls I met going to Cairo.  We decided to go see the Library of Alexandria, and so we walked out of port and took a cab there.  Before going in we stopped for drinks at a café outside, then bought our tickets.  The new library is one of the most modern and spectacular libraries I’ve ever visited.  I spent an hour online looking up things to do in Morocco, and then decided to go wander around outside.  We crossed the street and found an outdoor café/hookah bar overlooking the beach, so we sat down for pizza.  We walked back to the ship, taking the long route through a random neighborhood.  We unintentionally went through one of the poorer areas of the town, and suddenly I felt like I was in a completely strange place – even by Egyptian standards.  The buildings were in disrepair, a flock of sheep stood feeding in the road, and the people stared at us as we walked by.  Fortunately nothing happened to us, and we were able to see a completely different side of Alexandria.  We also passed by an enormous mosque, though we didn’t feel too good about walking inside.  After having dinner on the ship, we went out with a small group to try and find the bar from the night before.  On our way through Alexandria we met a small Egyptian guy probably around sixty years old.  With a lazy eye and missing teeth he was about the creepiest guy I’d ever seen, but a few of the girls had apparently met him before and he had helped them find their way around.  He told us about his life as he led us through the town to find the Spitfire Bar – he had been in the Egyptian navy, during which he had traveled all over the world.  He spoke relatively good English and boasted fluency in four other languages.  As interesting as he was I wasn’t too sure what his motives were as he led us to the bar, which was closed, and then to another place down the street where we sat down for a few beers.  Fortunately we didn’t run into any trouble, though I suspect the prices of our drinks were marked up because of him.  We eventually parted ways and hung out at a café near the coast, then took a cab back to the ship.

Day Five

With no other places in Alexandria that I felt I needed to see, I took it easy on my last day in Egypt.  We aimlessly walked through the city for a while, stopped for some mango juice, and then took a cab down to the bazaar.  There we strolled around looking at the goods, then walked along the coast back towards the ship.  We stopped at the last of the three bars listed online: the Mermaid Bar.  We walked in and sat down upstairs in a booth next to an open window, where a cool breeze was blowing in from the sea.  With the last of my Egyptian pounds I ordered a beer and some calamari, and we leisurely spent the afternoon sitting there listening to a rotation of Bob Marley songs.  We walked back to the ship and jumped into the pool upstairs, laying out on the deck until the ship set sail from Alexandria.  It was a surprisingly relaxing end to the most chaotic port of the voyage.

Egypt, Part I

With finals approaching I'm not sure when I'll be able to write about the second half of Egypt and Morocco, so here's what I've gotten down so far. Tales of jeep safaris, camel rides and pyramid exploring to follow.

Day One

At about ten in the morning, I walked through the exit of the immigration building to take my first step in Africa.  A beautiful square emerged underneath the blue sky, lush green plants surrounding a fountain and date palm trees lining the way out to the gate of Alexandria.  Walking out into the light I immediately felt the sun beating down on me, and I questioned my decision to wear pants; apparently people here disapprove of shorts and it would’ve instantly categorized me as a tourist.  Because of the difficulty and risk in using the public transportation here, most of the students signed up for overnight trips organized by the ship.  My two guy friends and I however decided to have an adventure and travel to Cairo on our own.  We walked out of the mirage that was the inside of the port to receive a rude awakening; as we stepped outside the gate a swarm of cab drivers rushed toward us, unleashing a barrage of tactics to get us into their cabs.  Knowing better we ignored them and walked past, and as we started on the sidewalk five girls ran toward us asking if we’d walk with them; not five minutes out of the gate and we were all huddled together in an attempt to deal with a level of chaos we’d never experienced before.  We walked for some time and took in the surroundings: the decaying buildings, the excrement on the sidewalk, the polluted air, the blaring horns of cabs and vans that were packed with people like sardines.  We separated from the girls to find the train station, and crossing the street toward the center of the city we immediately ran into two other girls who were going to Cairo on their own.  Agreeing to go together we walked for some time, making our way through the busy streets and warding off the string of seemingly innocent attempts by the locals to get money out of us.  About 45 minutes later, sweating and exhausted, we walked into the train station to see an unexpected sight.  As soon as we walked onto the platform, there on the right, was a literal train wreck.  A small crowd of people stood around the mangled train riding up on the rubble against the wall, but otherwise people shuffled through the station seemingly unaffected.  I tried not to think about it too much as I bought a first-class ticket to Cairo and ran to catch the train in time.  What we expected to be a two-hour ride stretched to four hours as the slow train stopped at random locations on the track, and I reluctantly snacked on the kebab-flavored potato chips I bought at the station, deeply regretting not getting up in time for breakfast.  Eventually the slow train arrived in Cairo, the largest city in Africa; and the madness that followed was on a whole new level from Alexandria.  We walked outside into what I can only describe as a cacophony of honking cars and yelling men.  The smog pervaded the air as we walked hastily on a sidewalk beneath the bridge, stepping over mysterious black puddles and scattered garbage.  Women covered from head to toe in black burkas looked at us suspiciously behind the narrow slits, which revealed their eyes and nothing else.  You never know what you’re going to see while walking through this city: not five minutes after the train station I witnessed an eight-year old whipping the hell out of a donkey in the middle of the street while cars sped past around him.  Surprisingly enough, we managed to navigate through Cairo using a compass and random street maps in Arabic, and we finally found the hostel that the girls were staying at.  After making arrangements for the night, we took the hostel worker’s recommendation and ate at a small restaurant down the street.  I had falafels and a chicken shawerma, which consisted of a pita, rice, vegetables and chicken.  They brought out enough food for two full meals and it cost me about six bucks.  We went back to the hostel and were led to our rooms, and Mohammed, who booked our rooms for us, offered to arrange for a private car to take us to the pyramids for a sound and lights show.  Since we didn’t know how to get anywhere we happily accepted his offer, then went back to our room to shower and rest.  At 8 o’clock we got into a minivan and went on a ride through Cairo to Giza, chatting along the way with our slightly racist (toward Arabs at least) driver Hemmet.  We arrived an hour early for the English showing, so we sat down at a small café for hookah and tea.  We bought our tickets and entered the gates to find rows of chairs sitting about half a mile from the three great pyramids of Giza.  Soon the dramatic music came on, and we were treated to a 90-minute show with lasers and colorful lights illuminating the pyramids, while a narrator recounted their history.  Though the pyramids were absolutely breathtaking even from afar in the dark, the lights and the over-the-top narration by the Sphinx (as they made it to look like) really cheapened the experience in my opinion.  I would get to see the pyramids on my own over the next few days so I didn’t mind too much, and accepted the fact that I was in a major tourist trap.  After the show our driver picked us up and dropped us off at the hotel, and we decided to try our luck at finding a bar.  We wandered for almost an hour, crossing the bridge over the Nile to the resort area.  We entered one luxurious hotel only to find the bar there had a minimum of fifty dollars each, so we went back down to the river and settled for ice cream soda at a café.  We returned to the hostel at one o’clock and went right to bed.

Day Two

Our new friends had plans to go see the pyramids at 7:30 in the morning, but we slept in till 11am.  We got ready and headed out to see the bazaar.  While we were wandering around trying to find our way, a random guy started following us, starting a conversation with the now-familiar line: “Where you from?” Thinking he might be able to point us in the right direction we went along, and he insisted on leading us there.  About ten minutes later, we found ourselves not at the market but at a perfume shop where he worked.  Realizing we had fallen into his trap to get us into his store we walked away and signaled for a cab.  We were nervous about taking a cab in the crazy streets of Cairo but luckily we arrived at the bazaar safely, and the three of us walked into the busy outdoor market.  Even our experience at the Turkish Grand Bazaar wasn’t enough to prepare us for this place.  Lugging my heavy back pack I entered the narrow alleyway lined on both sides with racks and tables, as the locals briskly walked in the middle. The people looked up as they saw the three strange Americans, rushing to get a few words in to get us into the store.  One guy called out to us yelling, “Hey Obama! Obama!” as he followed us through the market – I wasn’t sure if he was a fan of Obama or he was just making fun of us.  Trying to deal with the onslaught of calls from shop owners and the workers hissing at us as they shoved past with their load of goods on their shoulders, we barely had the time to look at all the goods they were selling as we walked along.  At first we saw the familiar souvenir items like fez hats, bongos, little pyramids, papyrus prints and other things, but as we made our way through the alley we noticed that the goods weren’t really there for the tourists.  There were clothing, spices, blankets, toys, vegetables and other foods; this bazaar was here for the locals, not us – it was a refreshing getaway from the tourist traps.  But after half an hour we couldn’t stand to be in there any longer.  We found our way out and sat down at an outside café for another delicious shawerma and a surprisingly good glass of mango juice, which is apparently common in the summertime.  Next we hopped in a cab and pointed at our map to be taken to the Egyptian Museum.  There I saw the famous mask of King Tutankhamen and a huge collection of ancient statues and treasurers.  After carrying our heavy bags in the hot sun for so long we were exhausted by the afternoon, so we found our way to a bus station to return to Alexandria.  We bought our tickets but the time and bus info were all in Arabic, so we spent some time trying to figure out which bus would take us back to the ship.  The three of us boarded a bus with an illegible sign based on seemingly conflicting directions from the people in the station, and prayed we’d get back to the right town.  About four hours later we arrived in a completely unfamiliar place: a dirt parking lot in the middle of nowhere filled with other buses, with not one person that looked like they’d speak English.  Fortunately we found a cab driver and, after pointing to a map, we discovered that we were in the edge of Alexandria after all.  He dropped us off at a square not far from port and we managed to get back to the ship, but not before another random guy started following us to get us into some other store.  I’ve never been so relieved to see the ship as we arrived in port; the lights welcoming us back to safety, comfort and familiarity.  We spent the night at the pool bar eating pizza and ice cream and cheeseburgers, recovering from the past two days.  So far my time in Egypt was simultaneously the most exciting and shocking experience of the whole voyage.

Pics II

Haven't had much time to write, so here are some more pictures from Bulgaria, Egypt and Morocco. Will try to get caught up soon!






















Bungee jumping in Varna.

















At the pyramids in Giza.
















Camel ride in the desert, Egypt.

















Zip line on the Atlas Mountains, Morocco.

Bulgaria

Day One

We had arrived in the waters outside of Varna, Bulgaria, on the day before we were scheduled to debark the ship. As I went about my regular class day I would look out across the water wondering what I would find the next day when I went ashore to another new country that I knew nothing about. In my business class I learned that Bulgaria is a former member of the Soviet bloc, and now the poorest member of the European Union. Since it was my first experience in a country that used to belong to a communist regime, I wasn’t sure about what to expect. It turned out to be a pleasant surprise when I took the tender boat ashore the next morning, as I walked along the port towards the center of the city. The weather was pleasant – warm, breezy and sunny – and a sandy beach stretched out along the shore. I had a few hours to kill before my scheduled trip in the afternoon, so I decided to wander around with a small group before returning to the ship. With no map or directions we ambled inland. I wasn’t sure what to think of the place – it seemed nice enough as we walked under the trees in the cool breeze, but the buildings were in poor condition, stray dogs were sleeping on the streets and we randomly passed by an old helicopter and missile launcher as we walked on the sidewalk. We arrived at the center of town, a small cluster of modern shops and cafes, but there were no crowds of tourists save the students from our ship. We sat down at a coffee shop, but I took a walk by myself to see what I could find to eat. I stopped at a small shop on the street and pointed at the first thing I saw that someone else ordered, and received something like a gyro – chicken wrapped in pita with lettuce, cucumber and tomato, but also doused in a variety of yogurt and chili sauces, with some French fries thrown into the mix. After my quick and delicious meal I walked back towards the ship to arrive in time for my trip. I had signed up for a class-related trip on the subject of human trafficking, which is apparently a huge problem in the area – young girls seeking to leave the country for opportunities abroad are exploited for sex or forced labor. We were driven down to the municipality building, an impressive and official-looking structure in the center of town. We were led into a large lecture hall where the mayor and some NGO-representatives talked about how they were combating the issue, and we also heard from local high-school students who volunteered to educate students on the subject. After the discussion was over I walked back to the ship where I met some friends waiting outside, and we strolled over to the beach to grab a meal at one of the restaurants. I had a shopska salad, a local favorite, along with a chicken skewer and the local beer – all for six or seven dollars. We returned to the ship to shower and rest, and then went out to check out the bars along the beach. We found a great outside bar right on the beach with ridiculously cheap drinks, so we hung out there for a few hours. We met a guy from Varna who happened to work in DC, and he gave us some tips about where to go and what to eat. Following his advice we walked along the beach to a packed nightclub called Copacabana where we stayed until two or three in the morning, then stopped at a shop for another pita before returning to the ship. Not knowing what to expect in Bulgaria, we were ecstatic to find such a great nightlife; not to mention the drinks were cheaper than any place we had been on this trip. We hung out in a friend’s cabin till 4 am and finally went to bed.

Day Two

Slept in until noon to get some much-needed rest and went down to the dining room to find everyone at lunch. Four of us decided to take it easy and just go lie on the beach for a while, so we got our stuff together and walked over to the sandy beach just five minutes away from the ship. I hadn’t gotten a chance to swim in Turkey so I immediately took my first dive into the Black Sea, but found the water to be a stark contrast to what I’d gotten used to in places like Capri or Mykonos. The water was murky, slimy seaweed wrapped around my feet and small pieces of debris floated on the surface; so I went back up to the sand and lied down for a few hours. Compared with our experience in Istanbul just a few days ago, where women almost never swam in public and the ones that did were fully clothed, the beach in Varna was the complete opposite. Kids up to maybe ten years old were running around naked, and even girls our age would lie around without clothes on while chatting with their mother or friends. It was a refreshing return to the relaxed European attitude I had become accustomed to. After a while I got up and walked to a stand where I pointed at another random food and received what looked like an enormous hot dog, except with some kind of sausage and with French fries thrown on top. We spent some more time in the sun, watched the Red Bull volleyball tournament going on nearby, then walked back to the ship after taking a quick detour for the cheapest ice cream cone I’ve ever purchased – I think it was about 40 cents. I took a nap and met up with friends for dinner on the ship, and made plans to go out for the night to Golden Sands, a resort area about 10 miles away from town. After successfully haggling for a decent price we got in a cab. The ride was unexpectedly safe and the driver blasted techno music the whole way there. We were dropped off in a place that, at first glance, looked almost like Disney Land. There were luxurious hotels, a long stretch of bars with pools, a mock Eifel Tower, and European tourists crowding the sidewalks. Feeling almost suspicious about the glamour of the place, we walked for some time searching for a cheap place to stay. We walked by one huge hotel where in the front parking lot, I kid you not, five cars were neatly lined up: an Audi SUV, a Mazarrati, a Mercedes sedan, a Porsche Cayenne, and an Astor Martin. We eventually found a decent hotel where the seven of us could share a room with two single beds for about twenty dollars each – perfect. While booking the room we met a half-naked and tattooed Scandinavian dude who was sipping on a small bucket of what had to be alcohol on a street corner. It turned out that he was selling tickets to a pub crawl, and remembering our amazing time doing one in Rome we decided to do it right away. We checked into our rooms, and while the girls got ready the other guys and I went out to grab some pizza and drinks to bring back to the room. We got ready, ate, drank, then headed out to the first bar called Den Glade Viking. The place was filled with people from Norway and Holland, and the impression I got from them is that Varna is kind of like our Cancun or Acapulco: it’s a cheap vacation spot for college kids to party, but there’s not a whole lot in terms of cultural or educational experiences. I decided it’d be nice to take a rest from the cathedrals, mosques and museums, and just have fun in Bulgaria without worrying about what I’m missing – I didn’t know of anything to go see anyway. We spent the rest of the night hopping from bar to bar with a massive crowd of crazy Scandinavian kids. We got a drink at each place, hopped into a pool at one, and marched on as tourists went by on mini-trains snapping photos at the mad crowd of drunken kids chanting to the beat of “Seven Nation Army.” It really was a surreal experience. I eventually made it back to the hotel room and fell asleep.

Day Three

Woke early in the morning to find (fortunately) all seven of us back and crammed in our hotel room. We stayed in bed for about two hours recounting the night before and swapping stories, and eventually got up and checked out. We took a quick swim in the hotel pool and left to find some food. While the girls walked around shopping for souvenirs, I stood in a long line and bought some crepes. We were all exhausted so we hopped in a cab and returned to the ship. I took a long nap then went out with a few guys to grab a meal at the beach, then spent about an hour at an outside bar to take advantage of the free wi-fi. Completely partied out from the night before, we decided to spend our night at a bowling alley that we passed by on the first day. We bowled, played a few rounds of pool and called it a night.

Day Four

Rested up from the day before, I woke up at nine ready and excited to do what I’d been anxiously waiting for since we got into Varna: bungee jumping. I had looked it up on the internet and supposedly there was a 52m-high bridge in Varna that was famous as a bungee spot. Four of us met up ready to go, and made the hour-long trek to Asparuhov Bridge. Having never done this before, my heart was pounding as we crossed a street and finally began walking across the bridge. Unfortunately, all we found when we arrived at the spot were a few students from our ship sitting or looking down at the water. The guy hadn’t arrived yet, so we nervously waited around just imagining what it would be like to actually leap off the railing. After an hour we were fed up, and one of us had the bright idea to go get some food since nothing was happening. We walked about 40 minutes before finding anything resembling a restaurant, and our big group split off trying to find places they wanted to eat at. Three of us ate quickly at a KFC, the first fast-food place we found, and walked back to the bridge. We arrived to find a long line of students from our ship waiting for their turn, and the bungee crew had just arrived and were setting up for the first jump. We had only four hours left until we had to be back on the ship to leave Varna, and with each person taking up to 15 minutes we thought that our opportunity was gone. With nothing else to do we waited for hours and hours, watching as each person was strapped to the cord, climbed up on top of the railing and fell 150ft below. The first guy I saw jump actually went into the water and came back up with half of his body soaked – apparently they had misjudged his weight. As sketchy as it was bungee jumping in a country that could potentially have no laws for liability issues, I was determined not to miss my chance. Even as we hit the last hour and groups of people started to leave, I stood in line and waited my turn. By 5 o’clock most of our friends had left, but four of us finally made it to the front of line. One of my friends Andrew, who wouldn’t even jump off of a cliff in Croatia a few weeks before, insisted on going first. Surprisingly he got hooked up to the cord, and with his teeth chattering he got up on the railing, looked out straight ahead, and fell with no hesitation. Next it was finally my turn. All the nervousness that had built up after waiting and waiting for hours climaxed as the tattooed and dreadlocked Bulgarian guy strapped me up, and his English-speaking assistant gave me the instructions: stand up, put your feet together, lift your arms out, and lean forward. Anxiously I stood up on the railing, smiled at the camera, and without thinking I took the dive. In the first few seconds I felt the rush I was used to from cliff jumping, but it didn’t end there. I fell, and kept falling… and kept falling some more. About half way down, as I flailed my arms out trying to find my balance, I had the sudden thought: “What the hell am I doing?!” But before I had the time for another thought the cord pulled me back, tossing me high into the air, and again I fell as the world spun into a blur of sky and water. After another few bounces and falls I started to spin as the cord went taut, and suddenly I wasn’t having so much fun. Fortunately the spinning stopped shortly and the guy lowered a red rope that would pull me back up. After swinging back and forth, grabbing desperately at the rope several times while hanging upside down, I finally managed to grab it and pulled the hook up to clasp it on my belt. With my signal the rope pulled me up, and after waiting for a few long minutes clutching to the side of the railing the guy pulled me back over. When I was done I couldn’t stop smiling; it was the greatest rush I’ve ever felt. My two friends eventually made their jumps and as the last one was on his way up, we signaled for a cab and we all rushed in. Being late back to the ship on the last day is a huge deal – being just 10 minutes late can mean hours of having to stay aboard the ship at the next port. Luckily we made it back to the ship before six o’clock and spent the dinner talking about our experiences and watching the videos of our jumps. It was a fantastic end to an incredible four days in Bulgaria.

Turkey

Day One

I dragged myself out of bed at 6:10am, hoping to catch the sunrise as we sailed into the port of Istanbul. Four of us went up to the top deck only to see the sun already in the sky, and the port was still far from sight. We lay down on the deck for a while until we came near the port, and watched as the enormous mosques and minarets appeared in the skyline. After breakfast I went back for a nap, then got up and met my group for the city orientation trip. We boarded a bus and drove through the city as our tour guide told us some basic facts about Istanbul and Turkey. I was surprised to learn that Istanbul is located across both the European and Asian continents – this means that I’ve traveled from the east end of Asia to the west end in one summer. I took care to note that Muslims account for 99% of the country’s population; having practically no experience with the Islamic culture, Turkey would be a great introduction. We stopped at a quiet park near the river and ate our boxed lunch, then drove to the old city to visit the mosques there. We first stopped at the Mosque of the Crown Prince. We entered the beautiful courtyard of tall columns and high archways, and watched as people cleansed themselves with water outside before entering for prayer. We were all told to dress conservatively - the men to always wear pants and the girls to cover their arms, legs and head before entering. We took off our shoes and entered the mosque, walking quietly on the soft red carpet. Inside you could see the enormous dome above, supported by smaller semi-domes and quarter-domes that were in turn supported by four enormous pillars. Unlike a church there were no paintings or visual depictions of religious scenes; the walls were decorated with colorful geometric patterns and enormous Arabic inscriptions. A series of wide rings hung down from the ceiling on chains, holding hundreds of small glass bulbs. We walked around as we listened to the story of the mosque and the architect who built it, then walked out in time to hear the call to prayer. Voices boomed from the megaphones on the minarets (tall, narrow towers placed around the mosques) with a song-like quality, as the muezzin read passages of the Qur’an to call people into the mosques for prayer. This happened five times a day, and I could hear the call coming from the mosques from anywhere in the city. We walked about five minutes across the park to visit the Aya Sophia, an even bigger mosque that had been turned into a museum; though they call it a museum the building itself is the only thing on display. Next we walked across the street and down some stairs to enter the Basilica Cistern, a dark underground water reservoir with rows of tall columns and arches dimly lit by red lights. After that we saw the Blue Mosque, nicknamed so for its blue windows and colorful painted patterns. We took the bus back to the ship and I took a quick nap before eating dinner on the ship, and then went out for the evening with a small group of six. We walked along the bridge that crossed the narrow strip of water where our ship was docked. Beneath the top level of the bridge was a whole row of restaurants, bars and lounges, and we decided to stop at an outside hookah bar with brightly colored bean bag chairs facing the water. We ordered a mug of the local beer Efes and a peach-flavored water pipe to share, and spent a few hours talking and relaxing while watching the sunset. Later that night we walked across the bridge looking for a local variation of ice cream called dondurma. Instead I ended up buying random foods as I walked along the bridge, stopping at vendors for a fish sandwich and a disgustingly sweet churro-like pastry. Realizing the ice cream stores wouldn’t be open so late at night, we headed back to the bridge and spent some time at a pub before returning to the ship.

Day Two

I slept in and left the ship around 11am with three others, and had breakfast at a baklava restaurant at the port. I had a bland cheese pastry and a Turkish coffee – probably the strongest I’ve ever tasted. We walked across the bridge toward the old part of the city, making our way past the street vendors selling shoes and sunglasses and random junk. In the morning the market was lively with tourists and locals, and we finally found a dondurma stand. Somehow the ice cream here has a sticky consistency like taffy, and the guy plays tricks with customers as he waves the ice cream cone around on a long piece of metal that sticks to the ice cream. Next we walked through the spice bazaar, a narrow strip in the market where there are mountains of colorful spices and Turkish treats for sale. A walk through this bazaar is something of a sensory overload: the strong scent of the spices in the air, the Turkish men yelling for us to come and spend our money, and the sight of all the goods displayed on the tables and walls combined for an overwhelming experience. I bought a few souvenirs but left my shopping for the next day, when we’d be going to the Grand Bazaar. We had heard that a great thing to try in Istanbul is a traditional Turkish bath, so we spent about an hour walking in the hot sun looking for one. Eventually we gave up and got in a cab, which took us straight to what the driver said was the best one in town. We arrived at the Cemberlitas Hamami, a Turkish bathhouse built in the 1500’s by the same architect who had built the great mosques. Including me there were two guys and two girls in our group, so we each paid for our bath and split off into the separate quarters. They gave us a room for us to put our clothes in and with nothing on but a small towel we were led into a large circular room with a dome ceiling. In the center of the room was a marble platform about two feet high and twenty feet across, where a few men were lying down. We lay on our backs staring up at the ceiling for about twenty minutes, and by that time the heat was almost unbearable – I was completely drenched in sweat. As we got up to take a break and go outside, our attendants came in and told us to sit down. The middle-aged Turkish guy, also wearing nothing but a towel, told me to lie on my back. He proceeded to scrub me down forcefully and lather me in soap before giving me a full massage. Over the next 20 minutes he cracked what seemed like every bone in my body as he bent each of my limbs around. As intense as it was, I felt extremely relaxed and didn’t feel at all uncomfortable about a near-naked 40-year old man massaging me. It was at the same time one of the weirdest and most enjoyable experiences I’ve had on this trip. My friend and I walked out feeling incredibly relaxed and sat down outside the steam room for about an hour while waiting for the girls. On the way back we got a Turkish pizza, then spent a few hours resting on the ship. We had heard that there was a soccer game going on that night, so we walked about half an hour to the stadium and lined up to get tickets. The regional team was playing against an Italian team, and a large group of us sat down in the huge stadium to watch the game. We randomly made friends with a group of local guys not much older than us after they asked where we were from, and they taught us a few cheers in Turkish. After the game ended we started our walk back, and I grabbed some kind of meat sandwich from a street vendor. But before finishing my last bite I had an interesting encounter with a little gypsy girl that came out of nowhere. As I was waiting to cross the street she pointed at my sandwich and looked up at me, so I offered it to her. She flashed a big smile and scarfed it down before giving me a high five and running off. Oddly enough (at least to us) no one at the game was drinking and beer was nowhere to be found at the stadium, so we headed back towards the port hoping to find a place to drink. We sat down at a hookah bar only to be told that no one was selling alcohol as it was Sunday, so we reluctantly walked back to the ship and called it a night.

Day Three

I met up with a large group in the morning, ready for a day of haggling at the Grand Bazaar. We crossed the bridge and walked through the spice market, then up the busy streets. We stopped at one of the ubiquitous stands with meat that looks like a monstrous beehive, which spins on a rod as it’s cooked. I ordered a sandwich and they carved some meat right off, placing it in a pita with some lettuce and tomato. I didn’t know it was lamb until I asked the guy afterwards, but it was extremely salty and had an interesting taste. Soon after we arrived at the Grand Bazaar, a huge indoor area filled with rows upon rows of small shops selling a huge assortment of goods: Turkish rugs, cashmere and silk, water pipes, colorful ceramics, musical instruments, and other souvenirs for tourists. Here the process of haggling is expected, and I had a great time figuring out how best to negotiate with the Turkish men. My best haggle was a turban, the cost of which I talked down from 22 lira to 10. After spending a few hours at the bazaar I was completely exhausted, and after sitting down at a café for some pie and apple tea (or chai as they call it) I headed back to the ship and took a long nap. I had dinner on the ship and debarked, ready for a night of drinking after the disappointing turn of events the night before. We bought some bottles of Istanblu vodka from a shop on the street and started walking towards a park where we’d heard there was a free music festival. On the way there our massive group broke apart, and the eight of us decided we’d be more content turning back and drinking near the bridge where we’d be closer to the ship and away from a potentially risky area. We found a small area just beyond the strip of restaurants, right on the water under the road. There we spent hours just hanging out – I had one of the most enjoyable nights of the trip just sitting on a towel on the cement, sharing a drink and talking with my friends. We eventually finished our bottles and moved to the reliable hookah bar from the night before, spending the rest of our night there.

Day Four

I woke up with a terrible cough and a slight fever; my exhaustion had finally caught up with me. I decided to sacrifice the day for rest so that I might make my hike the next day. I spent the day relaxing and getting some work done, then went out alone to an internet café for a few hours, enjoying my first relapse since Halifax. Internet use on the ship is extremely expensive so it felt great to spend a few hours catching up on emails and other things. I headed back to the ship and watched a movie before going to bed early, hoping I’d be well enough in the morning to not have to miss my trip.

Day Five

Woke up at 8am for a quick breakfast before my scheduled hike in Ballikaya. I still wasn’t feeling too well but I decided I didn’t want to spend my last day in Istanbul stuck inside. We got on a bus and drove across the enormous bridge crossing the Bosporus Strait, which is the dividing line separating the Asian and European continents, crossing over to Asia for the first time. We drove about an hour from the city and arrived at a scenic campsite next to a lake. From there our Turkish hike-leader and the interpreter/guide led us on a hike through the middle of the canyon, along the river for about half an hour. It was a great experience to get out of the city for once and get to see Turkey’s natural beauty. It was bright and sunny, and the canyon was full of plant life. Walking along the river I was reminded of Yosemite Park. We walked back to the camp, had a leisurely lunch next to the lake and took another route going up to the top of the canyon. This half of the hike was a little more challenging with a bad cough but I managed to get up to the top without killing myself. We admired the view from the top overlooking the river and the waterfall, and finally walked back down. After taking the bus back we had a few hours before we had to be back on the ship, so we decided to spend the rest of our Turkish money at an Internet café. While I surfed around I had a few cups of tea and a plate of watermelon, and then bought some baklava to take back on the ship. After boarding I spent the rest of the night catching up on work and went to bed early.

Pics

I finally stopped at an internet cafe in Istanbul. Here are some of the pictures I've taken.






















Departing Halifax, first day on ship.

















The cathedral in Sevilla, Spain.

















Watching a flamenco show in Spain.

















Relaxing on the beach on Capri Island, Italy.

















Hanging out with some Croatian high school students in Dubrovnik.

















Getting poured on at the Coliseum in Rome.






















Cliffjumping on Lokrum Island, Dubrovnik.
















Sun setting on Mykonos Island, Greece.