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.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
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.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
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.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Pics II
Bungee jumping in Varna.
At the pyramids in Giza.
Camel ride in the desert, Egypt.
Zip line on the Atlas Mountains, Morocco.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
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.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Turkey
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.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Pics
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.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Greece
Day One
I woke up at 7am feeling like a kid on Christmas morning but to my disappointment, I threw up my window blinds to see tall trees and buildings blocking my first view of the port of Piraeus – a stark difference from scenic Dubrovnik. We met up around 9am to get off the ship, but as friends invited friends our group grew and grew to a cumbersome size, and we spent far too much time waiting around for people to get ready. I’ve learned on this trip that you should never travel with a group of more than six or seven people. We walked through the busy streets stopping at ATMs and banks and then to find the station to pick up our ferry tickets. After the massive group broke apart into a more manageable size, we found the metro and got on a train to Athens to see the stadium used for the recent Olympics in Athens. We arrived to find a massive site that would’ve been impressive had it not been a complete ghost town. No vendors, no tourists – the stadiums and buildings were all locked up. We walked around trying to find something interesting but eventually gave up, and took the train to the market in the center of Athens. Here we finally found what we were looking for. We walked out of the train station and into the busy plaza and stopped dead in our tracks as we looked up and saw the Acropolis, sitting high atop the city. The impressive white columns of the Parthenon was visible even from far away, but the tour of the Acropolis was on the next day; today we would just wander around the market place. We sat down at a restaurant in a crowded alleyway and I ordered a chicken souvlaki and a tall bottle of Mythonos beer. I’ve never been a fan of Greek food in America, but the authentic version is absolutely incredible. Grilled chicken seasoned with paprika laid across a warm pita, with bright red tomatoes and sweet red onions covered in a creamy sauce of yogurt, olive oil and garlic: so, so good. We walked through the touristy shops for a while then took the train back to the ship. We showered, rested, and then hopped on a train back to the market. We walked around for a while looking for a good place to have dinner, and settled on an outside restaurant near the street, with dim lights and live music. Here I tried a moussaka, a traditional Greek dish recommended by a guide book. It looked like lasagna, layered with cheese, eggplant and beef – a bit too creamy and rich for my taste but it was something new. Looking for a bar we settled on a brightly colored lounge that was, strangely enough, completely empty. Luckily we had enough people in our group to make the place lively, and the bartender waited on us as if we were in the VIP section of a club. We had the whole place to ourselves, and had a great time listening to music while drinking tequila and the local specialty ouzo, a licorice-flavored spirit. We took the train back around midnight before the metro closed and made it early back to the ship, since we had an early start the next day for a tour of the Acropolis.
Day Two
Got up at 7am for a ship-organized trip around tourist spots in Athens. I usually avoid the planned trips because they’re overpriced, slow and inflexible, but I figured it would be easier to get around such a big city on a bus than on my own. We first visited the stadium where the first modern Olympics took place in 1869, then drove to the Acropolis. We climbed the long stairs up to the entrance to see the beautiful ancient theater, then through the great columns of the gate to see the world-famous Parthenon. The roof and inside of the structure were completely destroyed and scaffolding covered one side for reconstruction work, but still it was an incredible sight. From the top of the Acropolis we could see Athens reaching out inland as far as the eyes could see. It really is a massive city – according to the guide 4.5 million of the 10 million people in Greece live in the city of Athens. After taking a bunch of pictures at the Parthenon and the Temple of Athena we took the bus to the National Archaeological Museum and saw historical artifacts, kouros, and other statues. We took the bus to the other side of the market and had some free time, so we got some gyros to go and ate at the park. Gyros are one of my favorite things from Greece – they’re a godsend for poor travelers like myself. They’re delicious, satisfying and really cheap; I probably had five during my four days in Greece. Anyway, we quickly saw the Temple of Zeus and got back on the bus to return to the ship. I had half an hour to shower and pack for a two-night trip to the island of Mykonos, which I booked weeks in advance. We took a three-hour ferry ride, stopping at the island of Syros on the way. The sun had set by the time we arrived on the island so we couldn’t see much, but we were all really excited to arrive. Instead of booking an expensive hostel or villa we opted to rough it and share a bungalow at a camping site: a great decision. A guy from Spain picked us up in a van and drove us to the camp twenty minutes away, and we talked to him about our experiences in Cadiz and Seville. A girl with an Australian accent showed us to our bungalow in the dark, and we dropped our stuff off in what was basically a shack with five beds. We got a few bottles of tequila and started off the night in our bungalow with some music, then walked about twenty minutes along the narrow roads towards Paradise Beach while admiring the stars in the sky. We arrived at Paradise Club to learn that just the cover charge was 15 Euros and that drinks were over 10 inside, so we got a few more drinks outside before going in. The inside was beautiful and packed with people. Loud techno music filled the large open area just above the beach, with a huge pool in the center. We were there until about 3am (though apparently you’re supposed to stay till six) and started to walk back. Unfortunately none of us remembered which road led to the campsite and we spent two full hours going back and forth, making our way along dirt roads and rock walls. As tired as I was I couldn’t really feel upset about the situation; the stars were out and we could see the lights across the island. Eventually we found our bungalow at around 5 am, but realized the person with the room key had gotten separated from the rest of us. We ended up popping open the screen window and climbing into our bungalow. The others had wandered onto some beach and fallen asleep on some chairs before finding the place at six in the morning, only to find us all somehow in bed without the key.
Day Three
No one in the bungalow woke until noon. After lying in bed for a while recounting our foggy memories from the night before, we got up and headed to Paraga Beach, which was just a few steps down from our camp site. Everything I’ve heard about the beauty of the beaches on Greek islands is absolutely true; I’ve spent ten years on Maui and still I’ve never seen water so green and clear in my life. Apparently the real partiers don’t get up until the afternoon because the beach was far from crowded. We swam around for a while then sat out on the big rocks protruding from the middle of the water, simply mesmerized. After lying on the sand, we walked back up to the store and had a quick lunch, then walked across the beach out to the rock cliffs extending out into the sea. Then we walked back to the campsite where there was a pool bar overlooking the entire beach and the water. We booked the bungalow with the thought of saving money, yet this lounge looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel. There were beanbags and lounge chairs surrounding the large pool, with a live DJ playing music all day. So we sat down, ordered a beer and just relaxed for hours. My favorite moment in Mykonos might be the moment the DJ switched from European techno to “Kids,” an MGMT song (one of my favorite bands) – I can’t describe how great it is to hear music you love on a random island thousands of miles from home. We went back to our bungalow, showered and took a bus to an actual town. It was exactly as I pictured it: every building is small and roundish, with whitewashed walls complemented by brightly colored doors and window frames. The sun was just starting to set when we sat down at a restaurant not ten steps from the beach, with a row of old-fashioned wind mills lined up on a hill behind us. I had a spaghetti arabbiata, a dish I became familiar with in Italy, which was prepared differently but still amazing. The tourists lined up against the rock wall to see the sunset, so I got up during dinner and walked over to the sand to get a better view. Watching the red sun sink into the sea is another experience I won’t forget. Once it got dark we walked around the narrow streets for a while until we found a liquor store, then bought some cheap (but horrible) champagne, which we took to the pier. There we saw an enormous pelican being led around as tourists snapped photos. We went out to a Scandinavian bar where we hung out, then went upstairs to the dance floor. After spending the rest of the night there I got a late-night gyro then took the bus back to the bungalow to sleep.
Day Four
Reluctantly waking early to check out, we packed up our stuff and got onto a van back to the pier. There we found a massive crowd of kids from the ship, some of them still visibly drunk at 10am. We boarded the ferry and made the long trip back to Piraeus, arriving at around 3. Exhausted and almost out of Euros to spend, I walked back around the port to the ship, stopping once to enjoy my last gyro. After two nights in Mykonos I was desperately in need of sleep, so I dropped all of my stuff in my room and took a nap. I woke in time for dinner and spent the rest of the night catching up on reading and homework.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Croatia
Day One
I started the day with the routine of having breakfast on the ship and taking in my first sights of the port from the deck. Many of us had trips planned starting at one o’clock so we decided to take a quick walk through the city before coming back for lunch. Seven of us walked from the port, on to the streets through the market place where I unintentionally made my first haggle for a peach, not knowing that the bunch of coins I had received at the bank were practically worthless. We walked uphill in a random direction towards the coastline, and in about 30 minutes we found ourselves on a sidewalk overlooking the ocean from a couple hundred feet above the water. While admiring the view we heard a bunch of splashes and looked down to find people jumping off the cliffs, and immediately I decided that that was where I wanted to be. We walked down the rocky stairs down to the water where we found a small group of people from our ship on the rock shelves jumping into the water. We made our way past the “locals only” sign and within 30 seconds I changed into my swim shorts and jumped into the sea. After swimming and jumping for about half an hour we headed back to the ship for lunch. There were four of us, including myself, with no trip planned, so with nothing to lose we went down to the buses to see if we could get on a trip. We managed to get last-minute tickets to tour the historic walls that encircle the Old City of Dubrovnik. We took a bus above Dubrovnik for a panoramic view overlooking the coast, and then down to the entrance of the city. Unlike the rest of the scattered town, the Old City is a massive clump of orange roofs and stone streets, enclosed in massive walls that have protected the port from invasions for centuries. The buildings themselves, which are all made of stone, are breathtaking; our tour guide mentioned that a house in the city costs at least 1.5 million Euros. Another thing that strikes you as you walk into the city through the drawbridge is the sight of countless black birds swarming above the rooftops. As you walk along the smooth marble-like path along the main street you can see hundreds of birds flying overhead. We spent an hour walking on the top of the walls learning about the history of the city and taking in the view from above – the orange rooftops are a sight I’ll never forget. After the tour we had an hour to kill so we walked down to the square and sat down for a big mug of a delicious beer called Bavaria, which everyone around seemed to be drinking. We headed back to the bus and showered at the ship, then met up with a big group to go out for the night. There was a grocery store outside the port, so to save money at the bars a group of about ten of us stormed in looking for cheap alcohol. We ended up buying bottles to split in small groups and took them to a nearby park, where we found a group of cabin stewards from the ship hanging out. We also met three Croatian high school students and had an amazing time talking to them. They spoke English surprisingly well and told us about Croatia and what their lives were like. After a few hours at the park we walked about a half hour to the Old City, and found a small bar tucked in behind the city walls along the coast. A number of signs that read “Cold Drinks” pointed the way there; otherwise we probably wouldn’t have found the small entrance in the dark alleyway. We stepped in and down the stairs to find a dimly-lit area that was carved into the cliff side – called a buja, it’s one of several bars in Dubrovnik where during the day you can actually jump off the cliff and swim while at the bar. But at night the place was quiet; everyone spoke softly, taking care not to disturb the aura of delicate tranquility that hung in the air. They played old American music like the Beatles and Frank Sinatra; I honestly can’t think of a more blissful time in my life than sitting there that night, listening to “Across the Universe.” We sat and talked for hours while watching the ocean and the moon glowing above the small island across the water. People left one by one, but I stayed sitting at the rocks near the water until two in the morning.
Day Two
Four of us left the ship to head to the beach at the Old City. We took a bus to avoid the long walk and made our way through the crowded street, then sat down on the small pebble beach. The beach was crowded with students from the ship as well as tourists from all over; we could see boats going out for parasailing, water skiing, kayaking and other water sports. We swam for a while then got some wine at a convenience store to enjoy while sitting in the sun. We went to a small bakery where I randomly pointed at a pastry, which turned out to be a delicious sort of meat pie. We ran into a few other friends and we headed to the cliff bar from the night before to jump from the cliff. After jumping and swimming for a while we made our way to a different buja, a more relaxed place with a bunch of rock shelves with tables and chairs. We spent hours lying in the shade and by about six o’clock we were ready for dinner. A guest student from Croatia who did a presentation on the ship had recommended an authentic Bosnian restaurant called Taj Mahal (the connection evades me) and we managed to find the place. I had a mixed plate of veal shish kebab and cevapi, a sausage-like dish, along with some more Bavaria – an incredible meal. I headed back with a friend to the ship to take a shower while the others went back to the cliff bar. On the way back I realized how lucky I was to have friends with a sense of direction after spending about an hour trying to get back to the same place I was at the night before. The plan was to meet up there then head out to a bar or club, but when I got down to the rocks I found everyone drunk and having a great time. We ended up staying on those rocks in the dark for the rest of the night. I didn’t mind at all – most left after a few hours but four of us stayed there until three in the morning. That spot more than deserved two full nights, and they turned out to be my favorite memories from Dubrovnik.
Day 3
Woke up a little late around 10:30am and got ready just in time to answer a friend’s call in my room, asking if I’d be up for wakeboarding. Naturally I said yes, and we gathered a group of five and headed down to the beach by the city. After spending some time swimming and waiting for friends to show, we talked to the people at the water sports stand to figure out the details. In the past few days we had talked about taking a ferry to visit the island right across from the city, and we decided to go check it out. After a little negotiating we arranged for the boat to take us wakeboarding and then drop us off at Lokrum Island. The boat took us out to the middle of the sea and my friend Spencer, who had wake boarded many times before, strapped on a board and jumped right in. He made it look ridiculously easy, getting right up and turning here and there and making small jumps on the wakes. About fifteen minutes later it was my turn. I struggled to get the boots strapped and nervously hopped in. I consider myself to be pretty good when it comes to sports involving boards, but as always the first time wasn’t easy. When the boat started to pull away I gripped the strap and tried to stand up, and immediately my board sank into the water and the strap tore away from my hands. After two more embarrassing tries and having the boat make a big circle to pick me up again, I managed to stand and gain some speed before falling over once more. By my last run I managed to hang on for a good thirty seconds or so, turning here and there before falling; it was difficult but exhilarating. I got back on the boat and found both my arms to be ridiculously sore, and the rest of my body still hurts now a few days later. Unlike skateboarding or snowboarding, just ten minutes is really a workout. Anyway, the boat turned around and in a short while we hopped off on a small pier on the island. Lokrum is a small island known for its botanical garden and great cliff diving spots. We walked towards the center of the island to find a number of restaurants, then made our way through toward the coast. As we walked we saw peacocks strutting around showing off their colorful tails, and the nostalgic sound of cicada filled the air from the treetops. We made our way into a clearing to find a small lagoon where people were laying and eating on the flat rocks and swimming in the water. We took a quick swim and played with the rope hanging from the tree before heading to the coast. The rocky coastline was lined with jutting rocks that were perfect for jumping, and we found a spot where it was easy to get out of the water. For the third time in three days I went cliff diving, then dried off in the sun. One of our friends got pushed against the rocks as she missed the ladder getting out of the water, and was scratched across her back before scrambling out. She wasn’t seriously hurt but a little shook up, so we took her back to the restaurant hoping to find a first aid kit. As I joked about how the waiter would probably just hand us a bottle of tequila he actually took out some alcohol and handed us a towel, but a kind tourist gave us some antibacterial wipes instead. We decided to just sit down and have lunch there, and in the middle of an island I enjoyed the best shrimp risotto I’ve ever had (to be fair I probably haven’t had risotto that many times before, but it was really good). We walked around trying to find a sandy beach, but it turned into a minor hike as we walked around the cliff hills getting lost. We eventually made our way back to the pier and I took a short nap on the flat rock shelves near the water while the others swam. We took the ferry back to the city around 4:30pm and had dinner on the ship. After a quick shower I shook off my exhaustion and we repeated the pre-game from the night before with a bottle at the park. Determined to finally see the nightlife of Dubrovnik, we walked into a bar/club called Fuego near the old city at 11:30pm, only to find that we were about the only people in the place. After paying the cover charge we were feeling a bit ripped off, but the place quickly picked up over the next hour. Soon the place was completely packed with not only Semester at Sea students but workers from the ship on break. The drinks were cheap compared to Italy, so we spent the whole night there drinking and dancing. When we came out of the bar at 3am it started to rain, but after spending hours in a packed bar we couldn’t have been happier about cooling off on the walk home.
Day 4
Slept in until 11:30am to recover lost sleep and had a late breakfast on the ship. After three packed days all I wanted to do was lie on the beach, so we took a bus down to the city for the last time. I browsed through the shops alone while eating a gelato to look for souvenirs but didn’t find anything I wanted in the countless trinket shops, save a few postcards. I met up with friends back at the beach and lay in the shade for about an hour, and decided to head back to the ship around 4pm. On the way back I had a not-so-fun experience - while waiting in the crowd for the bus, a friend of mine suddenly fainted and fell to the ground. I rushed to get her up and into the shade to drink some water. We made our way back to the line and just as the bus arrived, she fainted again, though this time I managed to catch her. Strangers came over to help and I called over a taxi, and with the help of a policeman we managed to get her back to the ship before boarding time was over. She went straight to the doctor and luckily, she turned out to be okay. After dinner and a shower I was exhausted, and I managed to get some reading and work done before going to bed at 10pm. By the time I woke up next morning Croatia was long behind us, but I was perfectly content thinking about what lay ahead: the next country, Greece.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Italy
Day One
I awoke to find a new view outside my window – the small port-town of Civitavecchia. We spent some time navigating the city trying to find a post office, then after waiting in line for an hour we mailed some post cards and purchased train tickets. We met some friends back at the ship and rushed back to the station to catch the train. An hour and twenty minutes later, I was standing on a street in the middle of Rome. Walking around trying to find our hostel, I couldn’t help but wonder why we were surrounded by Chinese street signs and stores full of 5-Euro sunglasses; apparently Rome has a China Town as well. We eventually got to our hostel, which was run by an almost stereotypically warm and charming Italian woman; I didn’t figure out until next morning that there were two of them – twins, in fact, and I could never tell which one I was talking to. After dropping our stuff off we headed out to see the city. How can I describe Rome… to say the very least Rome is a city that’s full of surprises. Walking down the street you never know what you’re going to see when you turn the corner. Enormous buildings, obelisks, statues, fountains, and historical sites are there everywhere you look. The feel of the place reminded me of New York City; but it looks much, much older and more beautiful. After wandering for about 40 minutes I walked across a street and saw in the distance, the Coliseum. It’s really strange to suddenly see something of that size while walking in a city. We rushed to take a tour and after admiring it from across the street, we stopped for a quick meal (I didn’t eat because I didn’t want my first Italian meal from a tourist vendor) and then went inside. When we got to the Coliseum we noticed the dark clouds gathering above, and sure enough it started pouring and lighting began to flash in the sky; for me this made the experience even more exciting. We toured the Coliseum on our own, getting drenched and slipping everywhere – it was incredibly fun. After getting soaked we headed back to the hostel. Some of us wanted to rest but I was ready for dinner, so four of us sat down at a restaurant just down the street. Beneath an awning on the street, we sat down at a table draped in the red and white-checkered cloth. After we ordered, a random guy started playing the accordion next to us, and again I felt like I was in a movie. The meal was everything I wanted it to be. I had penne all’arrabbiata, a pasta dish with a sauce of tomato, onion and hot red pepper: infinitely better than any pasta I’ve had at home. After showering at the hostel we headed out to the Spanish Steps, where we heard people were gathering for a Pub Crawl celebrating Canada Day (I guess any excuse would do). We arrived at the historical site to find about 300 people sitting on the steps; from there we were divided into three massive crowds that stormed the streets walking from pub to pub. Over the course of the night I stopped at three bars in completely different parts of the city. On my inebriated stroll to each one, the typical sights of fast-food restaurants and apartment buildings were replaced by breathtaking Roman bridges, statues and fountains. After our third stop I called it a night and took a taxi back to the hostel, leaving half of our group to move on to the next pub. Once we got there we realized we left our room keys with the others, and three of us passed out on the floor in the hostel locked outside of our rooms. About an hour later the owner found us and let us in. It would have been embarrassing but I was too tired to care.
Day Two
We woke up around 10am for breakfast – the owner made us fresh cappuccino and croissants. We took the subway down to the Trevi Fountain, which is a major tourist site. They say if you throw in a coin you’ll come back to Rome some day, so we all did it and then had a sandwich nearby. Next on our itinerary was the Vatican. We avoided the long lines by getting our tickets online and entering from the museums in the back (thanks Lisa for the tip). Needless to say the museum was incredible; it was packed with religious artwork, the significance of which I could never fully appreciate. I learned a few interesting things along the way by standing near the tour guides and listening in. We walked through a few buildings and across the courtyard, admiring the countless statues and art that filled every surface; the most amazing paintings were the ones done on the ceilings. I saw the School of Athens, and of course the Sistine Chapel – my neck was killing me by the end because I spent the whole time staring at the ceiling. Everything I saw in the Vatican was surreal. Next we took a quick stop for sandwiches then walked to St. Peter’s Basilica. When I saw the cathedral in Seville I remember wondering if I would ever again in my lifetime see something so incredible – but this was beyond even that. The sheer size of this structure is baffling; but what you see when you walk inside cannot be captured with words or photographs. I was prepared for what I saw at the Sistine Chapel but I had no idea such a place existed - if you ever go to Rome go see St. Peter’s. We also took a tour of the tomb where many popes are buried, then rested outside at the famous plaza. We decided to head back to the hostel but we stopped at a restaurant for dinner along the way. A few of us wanted to see the Pantheon, so we walked there but it was closed. Instead we bought gelatos and wandered around, seeing the Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps once more. We took the subway back to the hostel where we stayed inside and drank until about 11pm. We hung out at a pub and spent the rest of the night on the street, then returned to the hostel around 1:30.
Day Three
On our last day in Rome we woke in the morning and headed out to the Pantheon. On the way there we saw the Roman Forum and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier – both incredible sites that I didn’t know existed. Had a quick lunch and hung out in front of the Pantheon talking to people who were leading the pub-crawl from a few nights ago. We spent time inside admiring the architecture, then walked towards the hostel, stopping along the way at Trevi Fountain once more and sitting down to enjoy a crepe. We picked up our stuff at the hostel and said goodbye to the owner, and took the hot, stifling train back to Civitavecchia. I had dinner on the ship and spentthe night relaxing and going through the two hundred (no joke) photos I took in Rome.
Day Four
While I slept on the ship that night the MV Explorer arrived at our second port in Italy, Naples. I got up at 7:10am to meet some people I met the night before, planning to hike Mt. Vasuvius, a famous volcano that erupted and buried nearby cities about two-thousand years ago. We got directions on the ship and left for the train station. A friend described Naples to me as “a dirty old city,” and she was right. Walking to the station I felt like I was in Vietnam, not Italy: the streets were littered with trash, the buildings were decayed and countless birds hung in the air. To be fair I found the other side of town to be much nicer later, but that morning we hurried to get to the next town. We ended up in a small town called Ercolano with no directions and no map, having been told to get off there and take a bus to the mountain. We walked through the city wandering aimlessly, looking for something resembling a bus station. Ercolano was not the Italy I had gotten used to in the past few days; the people didn’t speak English, street signs were scarce and tourist offices were non-existent – navigating through this town was impossible. After spending about an hour trying to get directions we figured out that we were in the wrong town, and we still had no idea what station would get us to Mt. Vasuvius. So, we changed plans and got back on the train to see Pompei, a city a few stops down the same train line. Pompei is famous for its ruins, which are the remains of a large city that was destroyed by the eruption of Mt. Vasuvius, which is 45 minutes away. We arrived at the quiet town of Pompei and walked in a random direction hoping to find the ruins. As we strolled along we found a pizzeria with tables that lay in the shadow of thick vines overhead – an inviting sight after hours of walking in the hot sun. Here I had my first authentic Italian Pizza: pizza alla romana, consisting of cheese, tomato, herbs and anchovies. It was nothing like American pizza; it was thin, made with a few simple ingredients and little grease. The anchovies were an interesting addition but it was delicious. We continued on and with some help, finally found the ruins. This place was massive; hundreds of ancient buildings had been excavated since the late 1800’s. We spent a couple of hours exploring, taking in the sights of the remains of a civilization that perished thousands of years ago. The whole town had a very quiet feel to it – stray dogs lay still in the shade and the people walked by lazily – it was hard to believe we were in Rome just a day ago. After the ruins we stopped for gelato and walked back to the train station to return to the ship.
Day Five
I somehow managed to get myself out of bed at 6:40am, determined to make the most of my last day in Italy. We had heard of ferry trips going to the nearby island of Capri, and we planned on getting last-minute tickets early in the morning instead of going with a massive organized tour group. We got down to the station around 7:30 to see a paper sign on the ticket window that felt like a slap in the face: “Capri Completo” – the tickets were sold out. Wondering if we should go back to bed or try to salvage our day, we scrambled around the port trying to find another ferry. After running around and waiting in line for about an hour we finally managed to get tickets on a hydrofoil. About an hour later, we got off on what I might concede to be the most beautiful island I have ever seen. The small island of Capri stood towering above from the dock, with rugged green cliffs and colorful houses lining the mountainside. We quickly walked away from the crowds at the dock and sat down at a restaurant overlooking the rocky beach. There I had a pizza marinara, a simple pizza of tomato, garlic and basil. This pizza didn’t even have cheese and it was one of the best I’ve ever had. After a long lunch admiring the view of the crystal clear waters below, we were ready for a swim. The water was perfect; we waded around in the turquoise water, taking in the view of the island soaring into the sky. We decided that we needed to see the view from the top, so we endured the stuffy long lines to take the tram up to the town above us. We got off the tram to see a spectacular view of the ocean and the rest of the island. There was a whole town carved into the mountain; up-scale restaurants and luxury stores lined the streets and tour groups ambled along the narrow sidewalks. We walked to one end of the town admiring the view, then walked back and rested on a bench in the plaza. I sat down with a chocolate gelato in one hand and a lemon granita (an Italian slushy of sorts) in the other and simply enjoyed the moment. We took the tram back down to the dock and spent our last hour on Capri back at the beach. I sat upstairs on the boat ride back, sitting in the sun and reluctantly watching the island fade away. We returned to the boat for a barbeque on the deck, and I spent the night going through pictures and trying to record everything I did in the past five days. Civitavecchia, Rome, Naples, Ercolano, Pompei, and Capri: I couldn’t be happier with what I saw and experienced in Italy.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Spain
When I saw the itinerary of my trip for the first time, Spain was not one of the countries that really caught my eyes. When I thought about Spain I had vague notions of it being similar to Mexico, possibly with some good burritos or margaritas to look forward to. Four days later, I can easily say that it’s one of the enjoyable places I have ever traveled to, if not (for now) my favorite place on earth. No matter where you go, your eyes can’t avoid being captivated. The cityscape is vibrant and colorful: the architecture intricate and representative of thousands of years of diverse cultural influences. The weather is always perfect; the sky bright and sunny, staying light out until well after nine o’clock. The people seem to understand a rhythm of life that’s foreign to us – walking through city in broad day light, people are out on the alleys engaged in conversation, having a drink or two here and there while they go about their day. Most shops close from two to four for siesta, and dinner doesn’t really get going until after nine and often lasts for several hours. Meals are typically light, simple and fresh; a common thing to do is to hop around to various bars (more like little cafes than American bars) for tapas, which are basically small appetizers. Anyway, here’s a rundown of my four days in Spain.
Day One
Got off the ship and walked through the town pretty much aimlessly, looking for an ATM at first and then stopping at the train station to buy tickets for the next day’s trip. We stopped at a bar along the street where I had churros and a café con leche (a small cup of coffee with hot milk). We stumbled into a plaza in front of the Cathedral of Cadiz, which was pretty much everything I expected of European architecture and then some. I won’t even bother trying to describe it but it was nothing like I’d ever seen before (that came to be true for just about everything I saw in Spain). We had lunch in the plaza, which is still one of my favorite moments from Spain. When you’re eating at a bar or café here you never feel rushed – people commonly take a few hours to eat a meal and the waiter will never bring you the check until you ask for it. After a beer and some sangria we were all feeling great, and after we paid the waiter brought us all a free shot of this amazing caramel-flavored liquer – looking back on it, I’d say that was probably the enjoyable lunch of my life. We toured the cathedral and walked up the tower, which is the highest point in Cadiz. You could see the roofs of houses all the way to the coast, and the blue water stretching out in almost every direction. We walked along the coast and next to the beach, which was packed with locals, and then explored an old, empty castle that was sitting at the edge of the beach. We continued walking through a gorgeous public park that had statues and amazing landscaping – there were flowers and bird cages, and even a small waterfall. After the park we continued walking through a garden along the street, and stopped back at the ship for a quick shower and dinner. Most of my friends had bought tickets to a flamenco show, so I walked down to the bus and found that they had extra tickets. We took a bus out of Cadiz to some remote bullfighting ring, where we watched flamenco dancers and a bull fight (not a real one unfortunately – the “bull” was actually still a calf). They invited us into the saloon for drinks and some appetizers, and treated us to a second showing, which was absolutely incredible. It went on for probably an hour – I was sitting about five feet from the stage drinking a sangria while three women in bright red dresses danced to live traditional flamenco music. Once they were done they started playing music and the saloon turned into a massive dance floor. I guess they were trying to play music we could actually dance to, but I felt like they were making fun of us when they started playing the Macarena… but we all danced to it anyway. Took the bus back and went out to a local bar where we hung out until around 2am, then got lost trying to walk back. We came across a beach so we decided to take a quick stop and swim, and then got back after about an hour of walking (though the beach was actually 10 minutes away). I made it to bed at around 3:30am, set my alarm for 6:45 to catch the train, and immediately fell asleep after what seemed like a week crammed into a single day.
Day 2
Woke up to my alarm feeling like death, and rushed to get ready and then met up with friends to get to the train station. Took a 2-hour train to Seville – even with a hangover the train ride was amazing. It took us through the countryside in between cities, and I vividly remember the sun-flower fields stretching out for miles at a time. We took a cramped bus down from the station and checked in at the hostel. I was expecting it to be really sketchy like in the movies, but it turned out to be an amazing little place tucked behind a shopping plaza. We all had our own bed, the room had a nice shower, and the whole place was filled with students from our ship. We wandered through Seville, which is a much more modern city than Cadiz, going through shops and little alleyways. We stopped at a little restaurant for tapas – we all ordered by pointing at the menu and shared each dish. It was the most eclectic mix of foods I’ve had in a long time: prawns cooked in olive oil, codfish croquette, artichokes with garlic, and tuna “ventresca” with red peppers. We didn’t find out what ventresca was until we asked after the meal. The waiter drew a picture of a fish and gestured with his neck, and we soon figured out that we had all eaten tuna gills – some of the girls weren’t too pleased. I also boldly went for an iced coffee with my broken Spanish, and had a good laugh when the waiter brought out a hot cup of coffee with a glass of ice – I guess “coffee with ice” in Spanish didn’t translate well. We then wandered the streets some more, now with a map to guide us to the tourist attractions. And then… we came across the Cathedral of Seville, “Santa Maria De La Sede,” which according to the Guinness Book certificate inside is the largest cathedral in area in the world. This cathedral was absolutely stunning. As we found the place we were walking along an enormous wall and when we turned the corner, the view of the cathedral began to sprawl out with each step we took in the other direction. It’s one of the most massive structures I’ve ever seen, and yet it was designed with incredible detail – every doorway, column and wall were all adorned with religious carvings and sculptures. We sat outside looking at it in awe for about 15 minutes before getting up to go inside. As we walked around the block we realized we had only seen one side of it, and the tower on the other side was equally amazing. The inside of the cathedral is indescribable – I walked around with my mouth gaping open for probably an hour. The bronze altars, the pipe organs that rose up fifty feet in the air, the ceiling that stretched out above like the sky; one after another, I saw things that were just paralyzingly beautiful. This cathedral made the one I saw in Cadiz, which was in itself one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen, look like a kid’s sand castle. Oh, and the tombstone of Christopher Columbus is also located inside. I walked up about 30 floors to the top of the tower and looked out across the city, then came back down and rested on a fountain in the middle of the square. We were all exhausted after the tour, so we stopped in an alley for a few beers, then returned to the hostel for a much needed nap. 45 minutes later we went out for dinner, where five of us ordered the bull tail: after my first bite I immediately regretted my decision. We wandered some more looking for bars, and about an hour later we found a place right on the river where you could sit outside on the wall. The place was packed with locals and I had one of the most memorable conversations of the trip with two guys who were just a few years older than us. They spoke about as much English as I do Spanish, and we spent about half an hour trying to communicate. He got really excited when I told him that I was from Hawaii and we took a bunch of group pictures. Feeling content we walked back to the hotel around 1:30am, but my long day came to a sullen end when a girl broke the news to me that Michael Jackson had died a few hours earlier. Really a sad ending to an incredible day.
Day 3
After waking up at the hostel we shopped around, then had a breakfast of churros with hot chocolate and a glass of what’s probably the best orange juice I’ve ever had. We walked through the city, had a beer near the river and then toured an ancient bull-fighting ring. Had a quick lunch of paella (a rice dish) and took the train back to Cadiz, and had about half an hour to rest at the ship before we headed out for the night. Had a nostalgic meal at Burger King to save some money, then walked around the city looking for a liquor shop. We found a tiny little place in a back alley that sold an entire bottle of wine for .90 euros (just to give you an idea of how cheap that is, I was paying 2 euros a beer just the night before) and got really excited – fourteen of us each bought a bottle and we headed down to the beach. We spent about two hours just sitting around, talking and drinking wine while watching the ocean; another one of my favorite moments in Spain. After we left, the group slowly disbanded as we walked around looking for a bar, and I walked back to get some much-needed sleep.
Day 4
I was exhausted after three full days of exploring Spain, and I slept until a friend called my room at 10:45am. Had breakfast on the ship and gathered a small group of four to head to the beach. We walked through the same park along the coast and stopped in a café in the middle of the park, where I tried a drink that someone recommended to me before. Called a calimocho, it’s half red wine and half coca cola – it seems weird but it was amazingly refreshing and got us all in a great mood. Once we got to the beach we swam and relaxed in the sun with a beer in hand. This beach was exactly what I imagined a European beach to be; a castle extending out from land on a stone bridge, colorful parasols decorating the sand, and small white boats floating in the distance. We had lunch at a restaurant right on the beach, and I noticed that all the locals were eating a plate of grilled fish prepared whole. I asked someone what fish it was: she replied, “sardina!” So I split a plate of grilled sardines with a friend along with some sangria, and this time I didn’t regret trying something new. It was a great example of Spanish food in general: lightly flavored, extremely fresh, and delicious. We then decided to walk across the stone bridge where one of us had gone jumping a few days earlier, although the low tide made it seem like that would be impossible that day. Arriving at the stone bridge we came across a bunch of Spanish kids doing flips off the rocks onto the sand, and after watching them for a while we walked across to the end of the bridge where a bunch of people were sitting around. The tide began to come in and the water quickly rose up the bridge, making it deep enough within a half hour. After seeing two guys jump in I decided it was safe, and took a running jump into the water twenty feet below. We spent the afternoon jumping, swimming and watching the Spanish kids do ridiculous flips. I have some awesome pictures of this to show when I get back. We had to be back on the ship by 6pm for departure, so we reluctantly left the beach and headed back towards the ship. Walking back through the city we all felt like we could spend the rest of our summer in Spain. We spent the night on the deck sharing pictures and swapping stories, watching the lights of Cadiz slowly fade away. Leaving Spain would have been a lot harder if it wasn’t for the thought that we’d be landing in Italy in a few short days.
P.S. As you can see, I didn’t have much time to be spending in an internet café so I can’t upload any pictures for now, but I’ll try to post some when I can.