Not a Morning Person

This morning, we tried to get up early to go to the Vatican museums before our 1:45 train to Naples. However, neither Nez nor I are morning people, as we discovered. After our lovely (and now regular) wakeup from the cleaning lady, we had breakky then went to the station to leave our bags at the luggage place. After a half-hour trek through the depths of the station, we find the longest line ever--apparently it's no longer DIY luggage lockers. Since we were short on time, we were NOT about to wait in that line. We schlepped back to the hostel, and instead, left our bags there. At this point, we only had about an hour and a half, and the museums were not going to be visited. We decided to cut our losses and just relax before our train, so we shopped for a bit, and I fell in love with two Italian men: their names were Dolce and Gabbana.

We picked up our bags, and were a bit late leaving for the station. We literally had to sprint to our train, but we made it. Barely. The conductor blew the whistle as we stepped onto the train--now that's backpacking talent. Just in time!

After we got to Naples, we had to take an hour-long "Circumvesuviana" to get to Sorrento. I figured it was a regional train--slower, but no problem. We got to the station and discovered the 1 hr "regional train" from there to Sorrento is actually an above-ground subway. That my Eurail pass is not valid for. So I had to buy a 4 Euro ticket. (I really think my pass was less and less of a good deal, the more I use it and get told it's either not valid or I have to pay extra for the reservation).

We get on the train (if you can call it that) and are crammed like sardines, with no ventilation. We discover after boarding that we've boarded the wrong train. Of course.

After correcting our mistake and enduring a miserable hour and a half journey down the coast, Nez and I arrived in San Agnello, a small town just outside of Sorrento. The hostel directions sucked so we walked around a bit. We got a great photo of this tiny truck before getting busted by the owner, who turned out to be very proud instead, and offered to take a photo of us on the back--as long as we took one of him after. Got some great gelato then made it to the hostel, which is amazing. Makes the one in Rome look like a halfway house. Met some great people in our room (Aussies, of course) and all had dinner together--did I mention the hostel makes incredible food? A bunch of us are gonna see Pompeii tomorrow. I can't wait!

Mediterranean, You're Kind Of Big

Sept 16:I'm going to refrain from the joke here; it's too obvious....thatswhatshesaid. Okay! Moving on. Today was a travel day to Nice. I left at 8 am after not going to bed the night before, so sick, and had to change trains every couple of hrs so couldn't sleep at all. Got to Montpellier and had to buy new reservation for train from there to Nice, since they wouldn't do it for me in Spain. Of course, the train I need is full, so I have to wait two hours til the next (non-reserved) train departs. I met two Aussies from Darwin who were doing the same thing, so we navigated the rest of the trip together.

The last train from Marseilles was really sketchy--no light, so were just sitting in the pitch black with strangers going through tunnels. Brought back memories of my favorite travel movie, Eurotrip. Mi scusi! We finally arrive in Nice at about 10:30 pm, only for me to realize my pouch containing my sunglasses and phone is missing. Shit. Back to the train I go! I couldn't remember exactly where we were sitting since it was no reservation, so I searched. Every. Single. Compartment. Hoping the train wouldn't start moving while I was still on board. At last, I found it! Fallen between two seats. Mon Dieu!

I called the hostel which told me to take the tram to a certain stop, where their shuttle would pick me up. I finally arrived and collapsed into bed--folks, the med is a lot bigger than you may realize if traveling by train! 15 hrs is not fun, especially on zero hours of sleep.

The Train in Spain is Mainly a Pain

(Spain Day 1) See what I did there? Enough with the My Fair Lady references...we are in the land of Carmen! Fun fact: The plot of the opera came from Seville, where a Christian soldier was dating the most beautiful girl in town (Carmen) who dumped him for a bullfighter (way more badass, I'd do the same thing). He went crazy and killed her and her family, felt bad, and killed himself. Typical man...so dramatic. Holding a boom box above his head would have conveyed the same emotion. If you want to get acquainted with the story, Beyonce made a hip-hopera for your viewing pleasure. Youtube it..

I flew from Cairo to Madrid, almost dying of dehydration on the plane (did you know the air in the cabin has less water in its oxygen than the desert? I love the sips of water they ration you every two hours because you can't bring liquids on the plane, like that's going to do anything in this environment...) get to Madrid, still not sure if want to stay or go to the south. After a lengthy conversation with a Spanish couple on the plane, I decide to go to Seville, but need to get to the train station. (Seville, the home of a certain Barber, if you're familiar).

I take a bus from airport and make my way to the ticket counter to buy a Eurail pass. I priced it out and I will end up saving quite a lot by having this pass. I can buy it for only the countries I need, so it costs less than a global pass, and will be much cheaper than buying individual tickets.

I wait in the ticket line only to be told I can't buy a Eurail pass at this train station. I have to take the metro to another station. I manage to navigate this, then decide to take the last train to Sevilla at 21:30. Have been up since 5 am. Get to Seville at 12:05. Haven't booked anything so I head to the first place in my guidebook (side note: Lonely Planet is not the best book for the budget traveler. Their hostel suggestions are lacking--just a general observation. Let's Go is much better, but they don't have as many books).

The taxi driver doesn't know where it is so he drops me in a downtown square saying it's close and points vaguely in one direction--I think he just wanted to get rid of me. Thanks for being concerned about my safety! I wander around for a bit and am not having any luck. I'm going to have to take up residence under a bridge! Finally, I ask some people I overhear speaking English, who take me through dark alleys to an unmarked door I would never have found on my own. Success! Just kidding. I get inside and they're booked. Crap. But he calls their other property and find me a bed there, so I haul my stuff ten mins down the street to the Oasis Palace. Cheesy name but at 1:30 am I just want a flat space to pass out on. Exhausted after a 20 hr travel day, I've made it; I'm in Europe!

The Taj in 24 Hours

Travel day: Jodhpur to Agra. We took a 12 HR train ride today so we could get to Agra at night, stay over, and be up to see the Taj at sunrise the next day. We literally sat there for the entire day, so not much to write about. When we got out of the train station, many drivers came up asking if we needed a ride (as usual) and one guy was particularly friendly, so James agreed to go with him. I try to stay out of these decisions since I think it'd compromise james' ability to bargain down the price. We asked how much, and the driver said "no problem. I take you first, then you pay as you like." Big mistake. He was super friendly, and told us about all these hotels he knew for a good price, but we knew they do this and have commission deals with the places they mention, so we told him had a reservation at the first place on our list and went there to check out a room. India 101: never book ahead until you've seen a room. There are no assumptions here, including standards of cleanliness.

Turns out the place we wanted was full, and we didn't really know many other places, so we agreed to go look at this place the driver suggested. James went inside to look, and I stayed in the car with the luggage and driver. It was fine for a while, but James was gone for a long time and the driver started getting creepy, telling me about his workout plan and flexing his muscles. Thankfully, James came back shortly after to say the room was fine-we were only here for one night- and I took my bags inside. The driver had been trying to convince us to hire him for the day tomorrow to take us to all the major sights, but we knew his price was obscenely expensive so I let James decline for the both of us. I headed inside at a good moment apparently, because the driver got extremely upset. It didn't help that James paid him 100 rupees for the ride from the station. Sorry buddy, but if you didn't quote a price ahead of time and say "as you like", sometimes you're gonna get tourists who actually know what things cost. Can't scam us, we've been in India too long!

James came inside and relayed this development to me, just as the driver walked in behind him, past the check in counter, and into the hotel restaurant, where he also works. SHIT. we spent half the night terrified our food was poisoned, and the other half waiting to hear the lock on the door turn. I definitely checked to make sure my limbs were still intact the next morning. Lesson learned: be very wary of drivers that seem too nice, because they probably are.

We woke up at 5:30 am to make it to the Taj Mahal for 6 am, when it opens for the day. 750 rupees for entrance is highway robbery, but I guess that's what a Wonder of the World costs nowadays. After dodging the annoyingly persistent guides trying to get our business, we headed to the entrance. Since this was the main attraction and the whole reason we came to Agra, we had packed snacks so we could stay for most of the day. Of course food isn't allowed, and there's no signs to indicate this. Thatd be too efficient. There were storage lockers a 5 minute walk away, and I was not about to waste perfectly good granola bars. I peeled a banana on the way over, only to come face to face with a particularly aggressive looking monkey who was staring me down. I attempted to deak him out, but he bared his teeth and growled, so i hurled said banana in the opposite direction and booked it. I arrived at the storage room only to find out it costs money. Of course. Out of principle, I refused to pay, and ate my granola bars sullenly as I made my way back to the entrance. Bureaucracy...

We finally got into the grounds and began walking when I caught my first glimpse of the domed roof sparkling in the distance. I'm rarely awestruck, but the Taj has to be up there with one of the most incredible things I've ever seen. It's so perfect, it doesn't look real. It looks cartoon-I felt like I had stepped into the world of Aladdin or something.

For those of you that don't know, the story goes something like this: after the Shah Jahan's wife Mehmtez Mahal died giving birth to their 14th child, he was heartbroken. He built the Taj Mahal as a memorial to her. It took twenty thousand workers over 33 years to build the structure. When his son grew up he overthrew the father and imprisoned him in Agra Fort across the river, where the Shah was forced to look at his creation every day until he died there.

After we exhausted our photographic options at the Taj, we got tired of the touristy atmosphere (if it was this crowded at sunrise, I shudder to think of what it must be like during peak hours), so we decided to check out the Agra Fort. My dashing good looks awarded me free admission for being 14 and under, so we wandered around there for a bit, but it wasn't very impressive, especially having seen the fort in Jodhpur and the Taj itself.

We saw signs for a golf course so we decided to check it out. How cool would it be to play 9 with the Taj in the background? Unfortunately, Indian logic proved too much for us to handle, and we decided a thousand rupees plus a mandatory caddie, and no left-handed clubs (I'm difficult, I know) was not worth it.

We pretty much exhausted our options for activities in Agra at that point--it really hasn't got much to offer other than the Taj, so I'm really glad we only spent one day there. I got some postcards and we hung out at a coffee shop, writing while it rained outside. We had dinner at Pizza Hut before catching our first overnight train to Varanasi, where we're spending the last three days before flying to Nepal.

Dirty Delhi and Train Travel

In India, two important things to know: 1) people will always try to rip you off, and 2) the hotel never looks like the pictures. We arrived at the airport in Delhi just before midnight. Our hotel was the only one we actually booked ahead of time, since we did not want to be going from place to place looking at rooms in the middle of the night. After we failed to connect with the hotel pick-up that was supposedly sent for us, we opted for a pre-paid taxi. My travels have shown me so far that these are generally more expensive than negotiating with a driver, but only if you know the proper value for the ride you're taking. We were quoted anywhere from Rs 250 to 400 for the exact same ride, so we were immediately suspicious of negotiating this when we didn't know how far away the hotel was from the airport.

We arrive at the hotel we booked and it is in a seedy area of Delhi that I would not want to be in during the day, much less at night. The room was dingy and the bathroom smelled like mothballs, but we were only there for about 6 hours--we had an early train to catch the next morning.

Train travel in India is a unique experience. I'm not sure if it was the lack of signs anywhere, the throngs of people sleeping on the platform, or the wafting aroma of excrement coming up from the tracks because, oh yeah, the train toilets are just holes in the floor of the car. So whenever people use one, it comes out on the tracks. Lovely. This attracts rats, which are scurrying everywhere. We had help buying our tickets from a man I was working with at the charity in Shantimalai, and thank goodness, because there is no such thing as a line in India, as I may have mentioned before. We had to find our coach number and then our bunks inside, which, in a rare shining moment, actually turned out to be nicer than I expected. The train station probably set my expectations so extremely low, they could only be exceeded.

My sleeper bunk on the train

6 hours later and we arrived in Jaipur, also known as the Pink City. I had read about this place called Krishna Palace on wikitravel, so we decided to give it a shot. They offered free pick-up from the train station, so we were already off to a good start. We arrive and it is quite literally an old palace that has been converted into a hotel. They showed us a room, which was pricier than the website said, but then offered us a cheaper room on the roof--it was the only one up there, so it was very quiet. Lots of stairs, but I could definitely use the exercise. I'm so happy we took it. This place turned out to be the best hotel we've stayed in. Large rooms, AC, marble everywhere, wifi that actually works in the room (most places tell you they have it, but it only works in certain areas like the lobby, which makes skype kind of awkward). The staff was friendly and helpful, arranging the rest of our train tickets and hiring a car for half a day to show us some of the sights in Jaipur.

At the Amber Fort The afternoon we arrived, we went to see the lake palace and the Amber Fort, which is on the outskirts of town.We were too late to go inside but walked up as it's on a hill and looked around. Great views of the city from here. It looked like whoever built this fort tried to also build India's response to the Great Wall of China. That's all we had time for before it got dark, so we headed back to get some rest. Jaipur may be the Pink City, but it's not the most exciting city on the planet.

See? Great Wall of India!

Lake Palace in Jaipur

Indian tuk tuk bargaining 101

State where you want to go. 1. "Good Price." This is the initial price you will be quoted. Never accept it. (I.e. 100 rupees.) 1a. Counter with half. (ie Rs 50)

2. "Indian Price." The Good Price minus ten percent. Never accept it. (ie Rs 90) 2a. "Very Good Indian Price." This is the Indian Price minus another ten percent. This will continue a few more times, depending on gap between your original offer.

3. Walk away--this is your most powerful bargaining tool. They know just as well as you do that there are 20 other drivers who will take you where you want to go, and they can't afford to lose your business. ("No, then I find someone else")

4. Wait for them to call you back. Restate your original offer. (Rs 50) Wait for them to grudgingly accept.

5. If you feel bad, know that you're probably still paying more than what locals would for the same ride.

Seasickness and Port Blair

Andaman Day 5: Tues Aug. 16.Today we checked out of Emerald Gecko and took the 9 am ferry back to Port Blair, where I discovered I have an innate ability for violent seasickness--it was not a fun ride. We were the only white people on the boat both times, which is a really strange feeling. I had gotten used to strange looks from people in Tiruvanammulai, where I was for the past few weeks before this, but in other cities, it takes some getting used to again. People will just sit across from you and stare at you. They don't say anything, they just stare. Or, if you're an army officer at the gate, you tell me I have a nice face. Thanks...as opposed to what, exactly?

We hadn't booked a hotel in Port Blair yet, so we took a pre-paid rickshaw to one of the properties suggested in my guide book to check out the rooms. Our driver tells us of his affinity for WWE and the Undertaker. Reminded me of that scene in Eurotrip where they end up in eastern Europe and they have just gotten Miami Vice on tv...a little behind the times. Wrestling is so 1999...I think. Or never. Shocking fact, I'm not a big fan. Naturally, he takes us to the wrong resort, but we decide to check it out anyways. The bedroom was seedy yet livable for one night, but the bathroom looked like they pulled it straight out of the swamp. Much like dating, this is an absolute DEALBREAKER.

Moving on, we checked out a place we passed on the way to the first one, Sinclairs Bayview, and it was much better, albeit more expensive. James bargained down to Rs 2100 from 3500, so we took it. We just wanted to be comfortable before our long travels the next day, and this place had airport transfer, internet (although that's debatable with the connection speed, it was like dial-up all over again...on second thought, maybe they ARE stuck in 1999...Michael J. Fox, where are you!), and free breakfast.

After getting our bags, the rickshaw driver tried to get us to pay him extra because it took about an hour for this whole process--but isn't the whole point of a pre-paid taxi that you don't have to pay at the end? It's not our fault he took us to the wrong place first, and if there was an extra charge for waiting, they should have told us at the stand where we paid. I felt bad for him, but it's kind of not our problem--we can't just give him money because he feels like he deserves more, not with pre-paid.

We walked around Port Blair in the afternoon, and went to the aquarium, which was very basic, but for Rs. 5 it was a good detour. I learned to identify many of the species we saw snorkeling, which was great.

After giving up on the tragically slow internet available only in the lobby of the hotel, I headed back to the room to watch a mixture of Bollywood classics and brutal B movies that are for some reason extremely popular in India--Anaconda 2: Trail Of Blood may be the worst film I've seen, yet somehow it made it all the way over here and I'm still not famous. Maybe I need to rethink my career path.

We finally settled on The Alamo (great movie by the way), and in the process of getting ready for bed, I discovered something moving in my backpack. I froze apprehensively, waiting for this thing to reveal itself. Get ready for it, a COCKROACH was in there. I screamed and James went to work dismantling my luggage, pulling out one bra after another, looking increasingly uncomfortable, until he found the critter and captured him with a teacup. MacGyvered. And this is supposed to be one of the nicest hotels in Port Blair. I guess that's the trade-off: you either get isolated beach paradise but sketchy accommodation at best (like what we found here), or you get bathed in the lap of luxury, but you have to bribe fish to come near you (in the Caribbean). Luckily we were only there for one night before a long day of travel.

Almost Thailand

Travel DayAndaman Day 1: Friday August 12th

I left my home in Shantimalai today to embark on a three-week whirlwind trip through India and Nepal with my friend James. Hailing from New Jersey, James is one of my oldest friends. Ever since he saw me frolicking naked in his meadow in Switzerland at the tender age of three, and I laid eyes on that glorious mushroom haircut, we knew this was the start of something special. Twenty years later and we're still on speaking terms, which is impressive. For the next few weeks, we will be traveling together--it'll be interesting to see what having a big brother feels like. I'm annoyed already.
James is doing the hippy chic look now, because he knows he can't get away with it in law school

James and I took a taxi at 3 am in order to arrive at the airport in time for our 10 o'clock flight. Indian airport security is a peculiar thing that seems to defy logic.

For example: I was allowed to bring a 2L bottle of water through without so much as a second glance, but I couldn't put my bag on the security belt without the luggage tag I was supposed to be given at check-in (which was never filled out...so they needed a blank luggage tag. Okay...) Then, when I was boarding the plane, they required these tags to have a stamp (that said something completely illegible, to be given at the same security checkpoint that required the tags...the same checkpoint that DIDN'T stamp my tags). Back through the airport I went for the second time. It just makes no sense.

Then the actual boarding of the plane is another feat in itself. They open 2 entrances at the front and rear of the plane, but don't specify who can get on where. This creates the mother of all traffic jams, because instead of sorting this out on the tarmac where there is room for planes to turn around, it now needs to be resolved in the alley between the seats, which is tough for ME to get through, let alone an Indian lady and her entire family. Of course, most Indians don't understand the concept of waiting in line, and will blatantly walk out and around to the front, completely ignorant of the other 200 passengers waiting to board. But they all do this to each other, so it's a backward system that works for them. For us Westerners, it's agonizing to watch. I definitely stuck out a leg a few times to secure my spot in line, and elbowed my fair share of grandmas out of my way, but it's a dog eat dog world: They know just how small and cute they are, and how stupidly polite Canadians are, and sneak in front, plastering an innocent smile on their face, daring you to do something about it. It's more about the principle, and it's infuriating!

The flight's not so bad; the airport in Port Blair is tiny, and is given to the Indian airforce after 3 pm, which explains all the early flights. We were on a tight schedule--our flight was supposed to land at 12:05, and the last ferry to Havelock Island (where we were staying) was at 2 pm, on the other side of Port Blair. After some difficulty in locating the ticket office, we were on the ferry, en route to Havelock. After about two hours of refrigeration in the ship's air-conditioned belly, we made it. We bargained our way to a taxi that would take us to the Emerald Gecko Resort, where we were staying for the next few nights.

The term "Resort" should be used loosely on Havelock Island--make no mistake, this isn't the all-inclusive Caribbean escape you had on Spring Break. A bamboo cabin not more than 20 feet from the ocean was ours for Rs. 625 a night...about 12 dollars total. It came with an open-air bathroom, which included a parade of various creatures making an appearance on the regular--turning the light on before you go in the middle of the night is CRUCIAL. Being a bamboo cabin (allegedly built using rafts that floated ashore from Myanmar, but I remain skeptical about this), it is not exactly air-tight. The bed has a mosquito net surrounding it, which is fun--it really feels like we're camping, tropical style.

Our cabin by the ocean

After a delicious meal of Butter Chicken and paratha from Blackbeard's Bistro, the restaurant at the resort, we were absolutely exhausted and went to bed by 8 pm. Fantastic schedule. I'm practicing for retirement. I guess I'm getting a little ahead of myself..I should probably work on getting a job first. But that's neither here nor there. Day 1 in the books!

3 Countries, 2 Continents, 1 Travel Day

Think about it. Istanbul is straddling Europe and Asia. I'm flying to Dubai, in the Middle East. Then India. Busy day for me! Waiting to board my flight to Dubai. Hungover, tired, and stressed. Trying to leave it behind.

The plane is massive, and full of people that clearly do not know how to travel. Relax, they're not going to leave without you, and it's not a big deal whether you're the first on board.

No free wifi at the airport sucks-I'm finding it's really hit and miss and totally depends on the country. Also unaccounted for is the difficulty in finding a free socket I can charge my electronics with. At the hostel, you're barely in your room except to sleep, so I don't want to leave stuff like that out while I'm not there-it's too tempting. While I'm sleeping its the same problem-I'm afraid ill wake up to an empty charger.

So basically if i want things charged, I have to sit in my room and wait. Naturally, I'm about to board a 10 HR flight with a dead iPod and an iPad at 14%.

The flight is delayed about a half hour, which isn't too bad; I have a 2 HR layover in Dubai, so it should be fine.

I get on the plane and find my seat, which is at the very front of a section so there's no one in front of me and I have a ton of leg room. Score! As I'm unpacking and getting settled, a steward comes and asks if I would mind changing seats so a family can use the space for a basinette. Well, I would mind, but I'm not that much of a jerk so I agreed. I got a window seat and an empty one next to me, and they gave me the food being served in business class. I sipped free champagne all flight, so it worked out alright. oh, and they had a charging station in the stewards' bay, so they charged my iPad for me while i was on the flight.

We land about an hour and a half behind schedule and now I'm getting antsy. I don't know what the pilot was doing, but I did not purchase a ticket with a scenic night tour of Dubai.

We land and taxi into the plane's parking space, which is obviously the furthest point from the terminal I need to be in. There are shuttles waiting, and these took us on another half hour drive to get to the terminal. Now it's getting close.

I walk in expecting to be filtered into a separate direction for connecting flights, but everyone is being told to go the same way. I take the escalator up to see the longest line of security I have witnessed on this trip so far. Easily a two hour wait. I was faced with a moral dilemma: do i wait my turn, like a good Canadian, or do I throw the 'bows up and make something happen? I mean, everyone was in the same boat as I...

Elbows were up and I crosschecked my way through many disgruntled passengers to let security know i was going to miss my flight if I wasn't bumped to the front of the line...usually they do this for you in Europe or north America if you're catching a connecting flight, but either way I thought once I brought this to their attention I'd be sent straight through.

That would be a false assumption. He just pointed to the line and said "what do you expect me to do? They're also all waiting." that was the last straw for me-I pushed past him, threw my bag on the security belt, scooted through the scanner, and was on my way. No one stopped me, which proves the whole thing was just a disorganized disaster. Not cool, Emirates. Not cool. You WILL be hearing from me, and i do expect something to be done about this. Not the service I paid for.

I put my head down and literally sprinted to the gate for my connecting flight, which was on final call and at the very end of the terminal.

Much smaller plane, middle seat, surrounded by 3 huge Indian guys. Doesn't look like I'm getting much sleep tonight. Note to self: stop booking night flights! They make travel so much harder and tiring! Unless I were flying business class, in which case, note to future rich self: fly all night!

I really wish I had been on a direct flight from Istanbul to Chennai. This whole transfer business makes it so much tougher. Also difficult and not pictured: taking money out before I get to India. Let's hope they have ATMs by now...I remember there was a point in which they didn't have computers in their banks, and everything was kept by hand ledger.

I slept for most of the taxi ride, although we had to stop for a bathroom break at some point. The cab pulls over to this roadside stand with refreshments and says it's in there. In where? This is a shack! Yeah...We walked behind, through a metal workshop, into the sketchiest room I have ever been in in my life. Straight out of Hostel or the Saw franchise. Corrugated metal on all sides, no light, flies buzzing above the hole in the ground that was to be the toilet. GREAT. What choice did I have? Thank god I bought that roll of Charmin To Go in Shoppers before I left on my trip.

TMI? That's India for ya.

Musings on Turkey

(overlooking the Bosphorous and Asia at breakfast on the roof)

Istanbul Day 2 - July 8

When I got off the plane last night, I was walking to passport control when I saw a sign that gave me a mini-heart attack: Visas required for these countries, followed by a list that included Canada. Was my research wrong? Could I not buy one at the airport like I thought? I'm going to be stranded in a Turkish airport, what a disaster! I went up to a help desk and this wonderful young man assured me that I could indeed buy one in the airport for $60 USD, and then proceeded to walk me through directions to my hostel so I wouldn't have to pay for a taxi from the airport. He wrote his number down on the map and said to call him if I had any trouble. I didn't even get his name...

By the time I had got this all sorted out, I went to retrieve my bag, and saw an empty luggage belt that had stopped moving. Cue the heart palpitations. I've lost my luggage for the first time this trip.

I head to lost luggage to ask for some help, and this lovely young Turkish woman looked into it for me--turns out I was looking at the wrong flight from Athens. oops. We went to the proper belt and saw my bag, the lone ranger, just waiting for me to find it. Turkish people are SO nice!

I had to take a subway, transfer to a tram, then get off at Sultanahmet (near all the tourist stuff) and walk a bit. I didn't trust myself finding this place on foot at night, and didn't want to end up in a dark alley weighed down by 80 lbs of baggage, so I haggled with a taxi to take me. They said I could walk, but I'm glad I just took the car. So much easier. Plus i got to refine my bargaining skills!

The city is really unlike anything I've ever seen. You feel like you're in the middle east, but without the poverty, so it still feels like Europe, but there's so much history--the city is older than both Athens and Rome. Napoleon said that "If the Earth was a single state, Istanbul would be its capital." I can see why...

I woke up this morning still clutching my valuables, which is a good sign for safety in this new hostel. I seem to have misplaced my lock, so until I can buy another one (maybe at the Grand Bazaar), they are being carried with me at all times.

There is free breakfast included, so I headed up to the roof to enjoy some turkish coffee and whatever they eat for breakfast (cucumber, tomato, unidentified pungent cheese, unidentified meat, and bread with fake nutella). I ate in the open air, overlooking the Bosphorous and the gateway to Asia. I'm about as far east as you can possibly go in Europe.

As I was unpacking last night, I realized my aerosol sunscreen had exploded and was totally empty (thanks for the ziploc bags, Mom! My clothes are safe!) so I headed to the nearest market to buy some more. Only one problem: buying sunscreen that is good enough for my alabaster complexion is actually like the quest for the Holy Grail. The highest I've seen so far is SPF 4...

I may or may not come back with skin cancer.

Today I'm having lunch at this place near the Blue Mosque called Cafe Medusa, which had all sorts of signs outside with good reviews from the NY Times, tripadvisor, etc. So I figured I should check it out. I grabbed a table under a lemon tree, and ordered fried squash with cheese and eggplant stuffed with minced meat--hopefully it's good Turkish food! I've seen some signs for Turkish cooking classes near my hostel, so I may indulge tonight or tomorrow.

Fried squash appetizer:

Stuffed eggplant entree:

Things I still want to do here: - Hamam (turkish bath) - Sightsee the Sultans Palace, Hagia Sofia, and the Blue Mosque - Grand Bazaar - Walk over to Asia

I think Turkey is a democracy, but religion is definitely at the forefront of their society--you have to state your religion on your identification. Turkey is 98% muslim, so there are mosques everywhere. 5 times a day, people just drop everything, turn towards the sun, and perform their prayer rituals. It's quite strange seeing this happen in the middle of the sidewalk, but I guess that's part of life here. I heard it's rude to take pictures of people praying, so I refrained, otherwise I'd show you what I mean. I don't need to be thrown in Turkish prison or something, though, so I'm not about to test my luck. You can also hear the prayers being called or sung over a PA system, which gives the feeling that you aren't in Europe anymore.

I'm a few days behind in posting because the wifi at the hostel was really shady. I'll catch up in the next few days.

Exploring Corfu by Quad

The infamous quad we used to explore the island

Corfu Day 3 - July 6

Last night it was pretty quiet at the hostel, so I chatted with the staff and got to know them a bit. Sunrock is a bit of a unique place, because it's not quite a hostel, yet not quite a resort either. All the staff are backpackers from various parts of the world--some came here thinking they were WWOOF'ing (working on an organic farm) but ended up being put to work in the hostel; some came here with no money and now they can't leave bc they don't get paid, so they're stuck here indefinitely; some are just on vacation and decided it's a great way to stay somewhere for a length of time cheaply.

I met Meredith and Dana, two friends who go to Wellesley in Boston. They're the ones who thought they'd be farming. It's really interesting talking to them about college, since Wellesley is girls only.

Antony, the bartender, came here with 40 Euros in his pocket. I could never do that! He says he likes the thrill.

We spent the night watching funny youtube videos and having a dance party in the empty bar. They taught me how to Smang It; I showed them the Bernie, then gave them a tutorial in 80s jazz dancing and Double Dream Hands (youtube these immediately if you aren't familiar...you're welcome.) That led to us wandering next door to Petra, the circular club that is always empty although I have no idea why--if that was in North America, it'd be packed every night. We continued our dance party there, until the bartender asked us if we wanted drinks and we felt bad staying without buying anything, so we jazz walked out of there.

Mer and I rented a quad today--30 Euros split between us (Mer, you still owe me 6 bucks! haha) and headed into town for a quick bite to eat. I found this place that had real greek gyros for 2 Euros! So good--did you know they are supposed to come with fries inside them?...I did not. Amazing surprise.

After that, we debated buying a map of the island but decided to wing it and just drive up the coast--we can't get lost if we follow the water, right?!

We drove into Ipsos, on the east coast, which is quite different than Pelekas on the west, where the hostel is. East coast is all pebble beaches that hurt your feet--so not a fan. It made me appreciate our location that much more, even if it's kind of remote. We continued north after a little photoshoot in the water, and went all the way around the north coast of the island. We drove through tons of small towns.

What I really like about Corfu is that there are no villas or mansions anywhere--everyone's houses are similar in size. Makes you feel like there's a real sense of community here, since everyone's in the same boat. I think it has something to do with the fact that foreigners can't buy beachfront property in greece--it's required to stay public by law (or so I'm told). That means the best locations for these villas are unattainable, and probably why there aren't any estates.

We drove for about 4 hours in the sunshine, the sea on one side, and picturesque hills on the other. The scenery here really is spectacular. We stumbled upon on of the horse trekking places I had researched online and were going to stop for a ride, but they were 2 hours, we were at least that far from home, and Mer had to work that night, so no dice. I booked a ride for tomorrow though, and left him a 5 euro deposit.

We wound our way through the mountains, and began to look for signs pointing us toward home...after an 8 km detour, we were just starting to come down from the hills when I hear the engine sputter. Next thing I know, we've lost power entirely.

Luckily, we were at the top of a lengthy cutback, so we coasted for almost 4 km without the motor, waving motorists around us. As soon as we hit flat ground, though, we had to get a running start before trying to get it going again. It felt like that scene in Little Miss Sunshine where their VW van won't start unless they get it going on foot and then hop in--that was us on this mountain.

We finally found a gas station and realized we were out of oil (the engine was a gas/oil combo). Okay, no problem, we'll just buy some more and we should be fine. That's true...if we knew where the oil tank was. Imagine 2 girls at a greek gas station, trying to communicate this to the attendant who speaks zero english. I finally got under the bike like a mechanic and figured it out. Yes, me. Under a bike. Getting my hands dirty.

I felt pretty handy until the bike died again, a couple of kms down the road. Shit. We kept coasting for a while, just hoping the engine had maybe overheated, and laughed at our misfortune--we were half lost with a faulty quad, no idea where we were going or what was wrong.

We finally found some signs pointing us toward town, and were on our way, until the quad decided to die again. In the middle of the highway. For real. We had to get off and push it into a nearby parking lot!

All this was exhausting so we headed across the road to the supermarket to grab some snacks--did you know Greece is the only country other than Canada that I've seen carry ketchup flavoured chips?!

The worker at the cash was really nice-he drove his car over to our quad and tried to boost the battery with jumper cables, to no avail. Then he called the company we rented it from and spoke to them in greek, finally convincing them to send someone to rescue us. We were 3 km outside town and about 25 from the hostel.

The guy arrives after a lengthy wait, and replaces a part (spark plug maybe? I got my mechanic's diploma earlier in the day, I'm pretty much an expert now), then drives off and leaves us there!

Luckily, the bike was working, so we get on and follow the signs back to the city centre, so we can go home the way we came. That is, if we remembered which way that was. We literally tried every single branch that came off this roundabout and none of them were right. This includes several roads that stopped being 2 ways for everyone except me...leaving us stranded in the middle of an intersection with greek people yelling at us that we're going the wrong way...thanks, Captain Obvious, but I think the stream of cars coming directly towards me gave that one away. Doesnt mean i can do anything about it! Then a squad of cops drove by on motorbikes. GREAT. I was sure I was going to get a ticket, but they more or less just laughed at these two girls who were clearly hopeless and foreign.

The very last street that we tried was finally the right one...after the 8th time around the roundabout we were on our way. It literally took us an extra hour to get home, but we made it just as the sun was setting, in time for dinner!

I had a fantastic time getting stranded in Greece with a new friend. Lesson learned though: cough up the extra Euro and buy the damn map.

Meredith and me exploring Corfu

Steep learning curve in Planning.

I originally booked 3 days in Istanbul before my flight to India via Dubai, but realized after I hadn't factored in travel time. I changed my reservation in Istanbul to 2 nights, booked a night in Thessaloniki and thought I would be fine. Take the ferry to the mainland from Corfu, bus to Thessaloniki, and train the next day to Istanbul. Apparently due to Greece's financial troubles, that train has been suspended indefinitely from service. Now I have an extra night that I have to fill, another deposit I'll lose because I don't want to go to Thessaloniki anymore if I'm not taking the train, and I have to find a flight. I didn't fly in the first place because there are no direct flights from Corfu to Istanbul, so I have to connect in either Athens, Vienna or Stuttgart, making the trip minimum 4 hrs of flying.

In short, planning fail. But how could I know? I'm off to find a flight from Corfu instead, and see if Istanbul will give me back 3 nights. Ugh what a disaster...this is one time where I'm glad I'm traveling alone, because I'm pretty sure whoever I would travel with would want to shoot me right about now.

German Soap Opera Star

Berlin Day 2 - Sat 25Christopher Street Parade

Things not to do when you need to wake up at a decent hour: take sleeping pills. I wasnt tired at about 3  am last night so i thought it would be a good idea. my doc said itll knock you out for about 6 or 7 hours, which would let me wake up around 10-11, perfect.

I wake up at 1:48 pm with all these messages from people going "where are you? i thought we were  going to meet today!" shiiiiiit.

to make it even better, my phone wasn't working. apparently sim cards from the UK won't work in Germany, so not only did I have to buy more time, I had to buy a new card. I wonder if I wouldve been better off sticking with rogers and buying an int'l package from them...

Like I said yesterday, another thing I'm realizing is how much I should've spent the extra bucks and bought an ipad with 3G. it is not as easy as I thought it'd be to find public places that have it, and it wouldve been really useful consideriing the amount of times i've gotten lost already on this trip. ugh.

Today is the Christopher Street parade in Berlin, or as we know it in Toronto, Gay Pride. Apparently the road by the Brandenburg Gate fills with like 400,000 people celebrating. I think I'm gonna head down there in a bit and check it out. 

Right now, I'm sitting outside a cafe having penne alla norma and drinking a Berlin beer. This is the life!

Tonight, my friend Johanna, who I'm staying with, has a friend's birthday to go to, and I think I'm going to tag along. A few of my other friends are also in Berlin, so they'll be there too, and itll be great to catch up! We may go to a bar, or Johanna has a friend who's DJing one of the Christopher Street afterparties at like 3 am haha so If we stay up that late, that should be interesting to say the least!

I didn't realize my German was so rusty, but  I guess that's what happens when you don't use it for 5 years. It's almost intimidating to be here, because it used to be so easy when all i spoke was German for a couple of months, and now I know what I want to say in my head but I can't figure out how to say it out loud. Hopefully it'll get better.

I talked to my friend Jamie from Guelph who is also doing the backpacking thing, but he's been here a couple months already. We decided to meet up for a bit, so on the 28th, I'm meeting him and his friend in Vienna for 3 days, and then we're heading to Budapest for a couple of days. After that I will probably do Prague or Romania (depends which is cheaper) and then end in Istanbul on the 8th. I'll spend a couple of days there, and fly to Dubai on July 10!

When i fly  back to Istanbul on Sept 1, I am so tempted to venture down to Jordan--I've heard it's spectacular. But I'm pretty sure I'd have to cross through SYria to get there, which is just a terrible idea. Oh well, maybe in the future the world won't be so messed up and a little girl like me can travel wherever she likes without fear of being kidnapped (I'm looking at you, Somalia). 

Getting Lost

London Day 4/Berlin - Fri 24 Friday I woke up and had to catch the train to Gatwick, after I repacked all my stuff. Instead of going to Amsterdam for the weekend, like my original plan, I decided to hop a flight to Berlin, because Amsterdam's hostels were either sold out or exorbitantly expensive--what's the point of staying in a hostel if Im going to pay the same amount for a hotel? No thanks. I'll catch that city on Europe Part 2. Add it to the list.

I emailed my friend Johanna, who is kindly letting me stay at her place while in Berlin. She face booked me directions. 

So, flight to Berlin. easy jet, $193 Pounds. Not bad. But the one carry-on bag was. I'd bought a bunch of stuff while I was in London if you recall, and I already had 2 pieces of carry-on baggage from my first flight from Toronto (purse and a small backpack). I had bought a large beach tote on sale when we went shopping on Wednesday thinking 'this is great, I can just throw everything inside'...but it definitely was not big enough. I crammed it all in anyways and went on my way--the biggest problem was that with my backpack already occupying my shoulders, I had nowhere to carry this tote, so I had to walk in a perma-bicep curl with this bag that weighed 30 lbs (doesn't seem like much, but when you don't weigh enough to donate blood, proportionally it's HEAVY). I was sweaty and disheveled by the time I got to the airport, but managed to shmooze my way on the plane with this thing. T

The tough part was when I arrived, my arms were so tired that I was sort of dragging this  bag along while wearing this huge backpack, a coat, a lulu lemon sweater, a blazer, and 2 shirts, because none of it would fit in the bag, so I had to wear it. I looked like a crazy person. I'm sure that's why the customs officer took an extra long look at my passport before letting me through.

Once I was through, I realized to my dismay that the directions to Johanna's were sitting in my Facebook inbox...on the internet. which I had no access to. Cue me setting up shop in the airport, buying 5 euros of wireless, and emailing them to myself. So ridiculous. I had to take a bus to the subway, then get off at a certain stop and walk to her place--she said it was pretty easy so it shouldn't take too long.

I navigated the bus and the subway (thinking I was a rebel the entire time, because I didn't buy a subway ticket, until Johanna later told me it was included in the bus ticket..) just fine, and I got out, saw my landmarks, and started walking. And walking. And walking. It was getting darker by the minute, and I hadn't seen the next set of markings or street signs, but I figured maybe it's just a little further. I don't want to not walk far enough, and then have to double up in the end...naturally I got completely lost, I had no map, no phone number for Johanna (not that my phone was working anyway), and no actual street address. I was, in a word, screwed.

I kept trying different streets, thinking, you know Katy, you really suck at directions and that's exactly why you need to get yourself out of this predicament. But I was so hot, sweaty, exhausted, and just frustrated from lugging 60 lbs around for the past hour and a half, when it should've taken 10 minutes, that I just sat down and cried. 

Just as I was pulling myself together to give it another try, a group of people walked by and asked if I needed help. They said I looked lost, and I could only nod. THey used their iPhone to look up the street I was looking for (I walked in the completely opposite direction I was supposed to), and sent me on my way. Turns out they had just come back from living in Vancouver for the past 3 years, and commented on how nice Canadians were. THey saw the flag hanging from my backpack and thought it would be a nice way to pay it forward. So thanks for the flag, Mom! It's already getting me out of trouble.

I made it to Johanna's in the end, and the lessons I take from this are: 1. I still suck at following directions. 2. I should've gotten the iPad with 3G. 

Tomorrow is another day!