Day four of the cruise brought us back to Turkey this morning. We had a show time of 7:15 AM for our tour of Ancient Ephesus, so we were up and out by 6:45 for breakfast and bus boarding. We boarded bus number 22, along with all the other "English Speakers Not Affiliated with Other Groups" a.k.a. the adults not chaperoning EF tour groups... We were led by a very nice turkish man called Oz, who spoke absolutely impeccable English. (As an aside, it embarrasses me to think that so many non-native English speakers exists outside our borders and so many Americans refuse to learn a second language with any sort of proficiency...) Our bus took us about 30 minutes inland to the archaelogical site of Ephesus, a Roman city which thrived between the 2nd century BC and 2nd century AD, and then finally was abandoned in around the 7th century AD. On the road, we passed an arena which is used for CAMEL WRESTLING. Yes, you read correctly, CAMEL WRESTLING. Oz advised us to Google it on YouTube and we would see the phenomenon of the sport. Apparently, two festooned male camels are led into a ring. A female camel is led in and is "introduced" to the males. They are sufficiently "aroused" then they are muzzled and the female is led out. They then fight until one gives up and the other proudly struts around the ring the victor. It is unclear if he actually gets the girl in the end... But, nonetheless, it sounds dazzling! I cannot wait to get home to see how it all works!
So, we arrived at the archaelogical site and toured the ruins in about an hour and a half. It was the perfect amount of time. My friends are forever surprised that I am not such a fan of touring ancient sites. The truth be told, I don't watch movies with ancient themes or high school kids as protagonists, either. I find that I spend all my professional time with the ancient Romans, I need some other interests. Also, I find that the tour guides usually screw up facts and I have little patience for misinformation and cannot stand to keep quiet. So, rather than look like the obnoxious Latin teacher, it is easier to steer clear. That said, we went from there back to Kusadasi, the port, where we were taken to a rug and jewelry gallery.
The were led into a shop and upstairs to a staging area where there were 4 long cushioned benches. A rotund man came in and introduced himself. At this point, I wasn't really paying attention, because I had no intention of buying anything, and really was fixated on heading back to the ship to work out before our spa appointments. This man then asked who would like "refreshment" (insert appropriate Borat accent). Maureen, who by now has fully imbibed the kool aid, ordered a Turkish coffee, I ordered nothing, not wanting to get bogged down by the "extra." the next thing we knew, a gaggle of 20 year old guys came from nowhere and started unfurling carpets onto the hardwood exposition floor. The whole while, the emcee was talking about the ways in which the rugs were made, the women who tied each knot by hand, the goats who supplied the wool, etc. it was dazzling to see the speed with which these boys slapped the rugs one on top of each other. Then one came out and caught my eye. With that I got sucked in. The emcee kept inviting the audience to "please. Come touch carpet. Stand on carpet.". I walked over to the one I liked and felt it. It felt like a rug... But, I was mesmerized by the colors; they really were unlike anything I had ever seen in a Turkish/ oriental carpet. Then, another rug came out, (by now, there had to be 150 rugs on the floor) and Maureen made a bee-line over to that. With that, the round man came over and asked me if I like. I said I did, and the next thing I knew, I was being led into a back room where I negotiated in a culturally appropriate manner. Maureen soon joined me and, she, too, settled on a good price for her rug. After the paperwork was finished, we were led downstairs into the jewelry gallery. We were then shown a myriad of pieces, all beautiful, but, again, one spoke to me as soon as it came up: a rose gold bracelet with rubies and diamonds. So gorgeous. Likewise, Maureen heard the siren song of a beautiful ring. It is absolutely the perfect ring, interesting and one of a kind. The designer of both pieces, the wife of the young Turk who was behind the counter, was there to ooh and ahh with us over her creations. We decided we couldn't leave without these pieces and again produced credit cards... I am very pleased, however, with my purchases. In both instances, as soon as I saw them, I knew they needed to come home with me. The rug is absolutely gorgeous, and unlike any sort of rug I have ever seen in my life. It is blue, orange and yellow and will go in my bedroom. It is 4x6 and they were able to fold it up into a little attache case size for easy transport home. It was really surprising how the whole operation works, however, I shouldn't be surprised. But, the prices were excellent and really were deals I couldn't pass up.
After we collected out booty, we high tailed it back to the ship in time for our honey massages and rejuvenating facials. Wow. They basically drip honey on your back and knead it in, removing toxins along the way. I have no idea how it works, because I slept through the whole thing. It was the most relaxed I think I have ever been in my entire life! We went from the spa to the gym, then from the gym to the cabin to clean up for the afternoon's tour: Patmos. We boarded bus number 10 with our guide, Sakki, who had a perfect Australian accent. It was a little distracting, but he, too, spoke perfect English, albeit Aussie English. We went to the town of Choros to see windmills and breath taking views, the grotto when St. John the Apostle wrote the book of Revelations, and breath taking views, then to the other side of the island for, you guessed it, more breath taking views. Patmos is what you think of when you think of Greek island: white stucco homes, rocky hillsides, bright blue cloudless skies. It was without a doubt some of the most picturesque photos I have ever taken
We came back into the port for an aperitif and then headed back to the ship, tired and feeling like we had accomplished so much: up early, tours, retail, exercise, relax... it was a day with EVERYTHING!
After cleaning up just a bit, we headed up the stairs for dinner from the buffet. After dinner, we went to the Rendez-Vous Lounge for some hits from our favorite Filipino singing couple. Tonight, we had a new entry into the repertoire: an ABBA MEDLEY!!! We also had "We are the World..." I cannot comment on that choice without appearing elitist, so I will just say that I sang along, wishing I had a cigarette lighter to send up...
But, in the end, I was so excited to hear the hits, especially some oldies but goodies! By 10PM, the banana latte was clearly NOT keeping my eyes open, so I made the decision to head to the cabin and type the blog. Even as I am typing this, drunk 16 year olds are making their way, noisily down the hall to their rooms. Maureen poked her head out and decided that they were going to their rooms, waaaaaay down the hall, so didn't scold them... yet. We are hoping to get a nice quiet night's sleep so we can get up early and get the gym out of the way. Our tours of Rhodes and Lindos have been cancelled on account of planned strikes. I guess that is how it goes in Greece. I suppose I would have been disappointed if there hadn't been any striking.
We are planning a full morning on board of exercise and yoga. Then we are going out on our own to walk around Rhodes. Wish us luck that we make it back for the 'all aboard!' We are having a great time and today both admitted that we were getting used to the idea of cruising and that we would both do another cruise again. I think that now that we know how the whole process works, and that we know what to expect, the set backs and disappointments are less devastating.
I leave you with this: "It's true we make a brighter day, just you and me..." Hearing the chanteuse sing these words tonight made me reflect on the veracity of those words. We need to make our own destiny and stop being victims... when we decided just to roll with it, baby, our entire attitude changed. This has been a great vacation so far. Hope yours is equally peaceful!
lunedì 2 aprile 2012
Yummy Kool-Aid
2 April 2012
My days always begin very early. By very early, I mean that I usually awaken by 3:45AM. Being on vacation is typically no exception. This morning, however, I slept in a little. I stirred at about 5:30. I looked out the window and saw the most glorious thing: a bright orange disk on the horizon illuminating and reflecting all things around it. I thought to myself, "Golly. That is the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen... I really am very lucky...." I stayed in bed another few minutes, wanting to savor this beautiful sunrise. After about five minutes, I decided to get up and grab my camera and take a photo of this miracle of nature. But, as I got closer to the window, I realized that the orange disk on the horizon was not the sun. It was a street lamp attached to the embarkation terminal of the port at Piraeus. I felt like a complete dumbass... Why am I sharing my "duh" moment with you on this blog? Well, even though the the miracle was not really a miracle at all, it still made me remember I am very lucky to be on this trip. It may not be what I thought it would be, but it was something totally worthwhile and I needed to suck it up and acknowledge that.
So, today we had an epiphany. When we came back from breakfast first thing (it was first thing because we had an announcement on the PA that said that breakfast was from 6-7:15 and we jumped up in a panic lest we miss...) I looked at Maureen and said, "Listen, I think we (and by we I mean me) I think we have been a little bratty about this cruise. I mean, we are on a ship in the Greek islands. We should try and make the most of it." Maureen replied, "Yeah. You are probably right... we just need to drink the kool-aid and be done with it.." So, that's what we did. Today, we drank the kool-aid.
After breakfast and our workout in the gym, We got a latte in the Riveria Lounge, (think LIDO Deck of the Love Boat, where Isaac mixed up yummy cocktails for Charro and where Kristy MacNichol and Scott Baio frolicked in the pool....) and pulled out a copy of the cruise news in order to look over all the days events. "9AM-Noon Spa orientation; 1:30 Friends of Bill W. (AA); 3:00 Greek lesson; 3:30 Greek Dance Class; 4:00 Yoga; 5:00 Greek Mythology Trivia Quiz; 6:00, Mykonos; 7:30 Dinner..." So much to choose from, I am not even going into the origami, teen get-together (more on that to follow), scavenger hunts and walk-a-thons...
"God, this cruise is so Kellerman's!" (A prize to the person who can name the reference...) "Let's choose what we are going to do today. I vote for a spa orientation and let's book some treatments... then maybe the Greek lesson, yoga, the trivia quiz..." So, we did. We booked in to the spa, one treatment today, two for tomorrow. At 10:30, we had to participate in the life boat drill. The "emergency siren" blasted at 10:30 AM and we headed up one deck to the back of the ship wearing our orange life vests. For future reference, we have been assigned to boat #9. When we finished there, we had our treatment, a lipoactive massage which was meant to massage away cellulite. Not sure whether it works, but by virtue of it being European, it has a lot more credibility that what you get at the Red Door.
After the spa, it was time for lunch. There are several different dining options on this cruise. You may eat by the pool from a pasta and pizza buffet. Or, you may eat off of one of two cafeteria style buffets consisting of hamburgers and hotdogs. There is one buffet which is what I would deem healthy, adult food. Mthis is where Maureen and I have been eating. When we got to the buffet of healthy options, we were turned away: "no seats, go to another buffet.". We asked if the food was the same on the other lines, as we hadn't seen the others. "Oh, yes. The same.". So,mew headed across the way to option number 2. It was the most revolting looking crap I had ever seen. Kid friendly food. We went BACK to the original line. After standing for just a few moments, we were permitted entry. Thank God for it. We had a lovely meal of spiced lamb meatballs, peas and cauliflower and salad. All very nicely prepared. On our way out, I said to the man at the door who originally told us all the lines were the same, "just so you know: the lines are not all 'same!'". The S.O.B. wanted to argue with me! "Yes, they are all same!" "Are not!" "Are too!". The conversation had officially degenerated into a playground squabble. We walked away and went to the 'Welcome Aboard' orientation since we has missed the one the day before.
Later, Maureen did the Greek lesson, we did the trivia quiz (I got 11/15, beaten by a table of high school kids by one point...) and then we went in to Mykonos.
Mykonos is an island that appears to be largely abandoned by any sort of productive trade. Instead, it seems to depend soley on tourists for its revenue. I said to Maureen that I thought there must be a real love-hate relationship between the indiginous people and the American tourists. "I'll bet they see that cruise ship coming across the horizon and the entire town heaves a collective 'oh, shiiiiiit...'" Maureen agreed, saying, "I'll bet it is like Fantasy Island: the mayor comes out and announces, 'Smiles, everyone, smiles' and the town idiot comes running out shouting 'da sheeep, da sheeeeep!" And, sure enough, it was just as we expected: street after street of tatty crap being sold to the highest bidder. Not quite as bad as San Marino, but close. It was picturesque, to be sure. However, there were TONS of storefronts and houses that were boarded up, and not just for the season, I fear. We walked every inch of the town, snapped some pics and then headed back to the ship.
Once we were scanned back onto the boat, we went to our cabin, which I haven't described heretofor. So: this is where we are staying: cabin 4226 is a spacious room with two twin beds, an oversized love seat and a refrigerator. There is a 36 inch flat screen and plenty of closet space. The bathroom is the only negative about the cabin: there is no real hot water, and the bathroom floods when you take a shower since it has no pan. Just a drain in the ground. There is a squeegie provided to rake the excess water to the many drains in the floor. But, I digress...
We sat and watched a few minutes of L'eredita'. When the dinner bell (figuratively) rang, we headed up to the restaurant for dinner. We were seated with a very sweet young couple staying in Athens for the semester. They are students enrolled in a bible college in Arkansas (?). We had a very nice conversation with them, nice even though the young man kept calling me 'ma'am...'
As a side note:
The cruise is inhabited by group after group of college, mostly, high school aged student tour groups. They are mostly EF, but was have on this leg some Explorica and ACIS groups. They are mostly underage barefooted kids buying alcohol at the many bars. Tonight on the phone, my dad suggested that Maureen and I should be in our element on this vacation. Maureen suggested that we had gone to the other side of he world to GET AWAY from high school aged kids. I reminded my dad of the concept of a busman's holiday. For those who don't know, or have never heard the term: a busman's holiday is when you do the same thing on your vacation as you do when you work, e.g. When a man who drives a bus for a living goes to his destination, on a bus.
Anyhow... After our dinner of Greek mezes, we retired to the Rendez-vous Lounge where we each had a pina colada and a banana mocha latte. The hits were not so widely attended, which was disappointing since last night, she had us standing in the aisles. But, if tonight was supposed to be quieter since we have to be up with the chickens, then that explains why we were two of about 6 people in the audience, I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the hits myself. We stayed through one set and then decided to call it a night.
So, the theme of today: make the most of every day. As WHAM said in their seminal hit of the early 1980's "Make the most of everyday/ don't let hard times get in your way/ give a wham, give a bam/ but don't give a damn..." Never have truer words been uttered...
My days always begin very early. By very early, I mean that I usually awaken by 3:45AM. Being on vacation is typically no exception. This morning, however, I slept in a little. I stirred at about 5:30. I looked out the window and saw the most glorious thing: a bright orange disk on the horizon illuminating and reflecting all things around it. I thought to myself, "Golly. That is the most beautiful sunrise I have ever seen... I really am very lucky...." I stayed in bed another few minutes, wanting to savor this beautiful sunrise. After about five minutes, I decided to get up and grab my camera and take a photo of this miracle of nature. But, as I got closer to the window, I realized that the orange disk on the horizon was not the sun. It was a street lamp attached to the embarkation terminal of the port at Piraeus. I felt like a complete dumbass... Why am I sharing my "duh" moment with you on this blog? Well, even though the the miracle was not really a miracle at all, it still made me remember I am very lucky to be on this trip. It may not be what I thought it would be, but it was something totally worthwhile and I needed to suck it up and acknowledge that.
So, today we had an epiphany. When we came back from breakfast first thing (it was first thing because we had an announcement on the PA that said that breakfast was from 6-7:15 and we jumped up in a panic lest we miss...) I looked at Maureen and said, "Listen, I think we (and by we I mean me) I think we have been a little bratty about this cruise. I mean, we are on a ship in the Greek islands. We should try and make the most of it." Maureen replied, "Yeah. You are probably right... we just need to drink the kool-aid and be done with it.." So, that's what we did. Today, we drank the kool-aid.
After breakfast and our workout in the gym, We got a latte in the Riveria Lounge, (think LIDO Deck of the Love Boat, where Isaac mixed up yummy cocktails for Charro and where Kristy MacNichol and Scott Baio frolicked in the pool....) and pulled out a copy of the cruise news in order to look over all the days events. "9AM-Noon Spa orientation; 1:30 Friends of Bill W. (AA); 3:00 Greek lesson; 3:30 Greek Dance Class; 4:00 Yoga; 5:00 Greek Mythology Trivia Quiz; 6:00, Mykonos; 7:30 Dinner..." So much to choose from, I am not even going into the origami, teen get-together (more on that to follow), scavenger hunts and walk-a-thons...
"God, this cruise is so Kellerman's!" (A prize to the person who can name the reference...) "Let's choose what we are going to do today. I vote for a spa orientation and let's book some treatments... then maybe the Greek lesson, yoga, the trivia quiz..." So, we did. We booked in to the spa, one treatment today, two for tomorrow. At 10:30, we had to participate in the life boat drill. The "emergency siren" blasted at 10:30 AM and we headed up one deck to the back of the ship wearing our orange life vests. For future reference, we have been assigned to boat #9. When we finished there, we had our treatment, a lipoactive massage which was meant to massage away cellulite. Not sure whether it works, but by virtue of it being European, it has a lot more credibility that what you get at the Red Door.
After the spa, it was time for lunch. There are several different dining options on this cruise. You may eat by the pool from a pasta and pizza buffet. Or, you may eat off of one of two cafeteria style buffets consisting of hamburgers and hotdogs. There is one buffet which is what I would deem healthy, adult food. Mthis is where Maureen and I have been eating. When we got to the buffet of healthy options, we were turned away: "no seats, go to another buffet.". We asked if the food was the same on the other lines, as we hadn't seen the others. "Oh, yes. The same.". So,mew headed across the way to option number 2. It was the most revolting looking crap I had ever seen. Kid friendly food. We went BACK to the original line. After standing for just a few moments, we were permitted entry. Thank God for it. We had a lovely meal of spiced lamb meatballs, peas and cauliflower and salad. All very nicely prepared. On our way out, I said to the man at the door who originally told us all the lines were the same, "just so you know: the lines are not all 'same!'". The S.O.B. wanted to argue with me! "Yes, they are all same!" "Are not!" "Are too!". The conversation had officially degenerated into a playground squabble. We walked away and went to the 'Welcome Aboard' orientation since we has missed the one the day before.
Later, Maureen did the Greek lesson, we did the trivia quiz (I got 11/15, beaten by a table of high school kids by one point...) and then we went in to Mykonos.
Mykonos is an island that appears to be largely abandoned by any sort of productive trade. Instead, it seems to depend soley on tourists for its revenue. I said to Maureen that I thought there must be a real love-hate relationship between the indiginous people and the American tourists. "I'll bet they see that cruise ship coming across the horizon and the entire town heaves a collective 'oh, shiiiiiit...'" Maureen agreed, saying, "I'll bet it is like Fantasy Island: the mayor comes out and announces, 'Smiles, everyone, smiles' and the town idiot comes running out shouting 'da sheeep, da sheeeeep!" And, sure enough, it was just as we expected: street after street of tatty crap being sold to the highest bidder. Not quite as bad as San Marino, but close. It was picturesque, to be sure. However, there were TONS of storefronts and houses that were boarded up, and not just for the season, I fear. We walked every inch of the town, snapped some pics and then headed back to the ship.
Once we were scanned back onto the boat, we went to our cabin, which I haven't described heretofor. So: this is where we are staying: cabin 4226 is a spacious room with two twin beds, an oversized love seat and a refrigerator. There is a 36 inch flat screen and plenty of closet space. The bathroom is the only negative about the cabin: there is no real hot water, and the bathroom floods when you take a shower since it has no pan. Just a drain in the ground. There is a squeegie provided to rake the excess water to the many drains in the floor. But, I digress...
We sat and watched a few minutes of L'eredita'. When the dinner bell (figuratively) rang, we headed up to the restaurant for dinner. We were seated with a very sweet young couple staying in Athens for the semester. They are students enrolled in a bible college in Arkansas (?). We had a very nice conversation with them, nice even though the young man kept calling me 'ma'am...'
As a side note:
The cruise is inhabited by group after group of college, mostly, high school aged student tour groups. They are mostly EF, but was have on this leg some Explorica and ACIS groups. They are mostly underage barefooted kids buying alcohol at the many bars. Tonight on the phone, my dad suggested that Maureen and I should be in our element on this vacation. Maureen suggested that we had gone to the other side of he world to GET AWAY from high school aged kids. I reminded my dad of the concept of a busman's holiday. For those who don't know, or have never heard the term: a busman's holiday is when you do the same thing on your vacation as you do when you work, e.g. When a man who drives a bus for a living goes to his destination, on a bus.
Anyhow... After our dinner of Greek mezes, we retired to the Rendez-vous Lounge where we each had a pina colada and a banana mocha latte. The hits were not so widely attended, which was disappointing since last night, she had us standing in the aisles. But, if tonight was supposed to be quieter since we have to be up with the chickens, then that explains why we were two of about 6 people in the audience, I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the hits myself. We stayed through one set and then decided to call it a night.
So, the theme of today: make the most of every day. As WHAM said in their seminal hit of the early 1980's "Make the most of everyday/ don't let hard times get in your way/ give a wham, give a bam/ but don't give a damn..." Never have truer words been uttered...
domenica 1 aprile 2012
Izmir
Day 2 or 3 depending on when we are starting count...
This morning, we got up at 6 and went for a run, a Starbucks and breakfast in the hotel, (btw: the breakfast was the best hotel breakfast either one of us has ever eaten. Beautiful eggs and cheeses. Even the coffee was good. The juice... Well, it can't all be perfect...) we needed the sustinence after our run. We went from the hotel up to the main drag and ran down the hill, back up the hill and to the traffic circle and back twice. On our first trip to the traffic circle, two drunk and unkempt Turks appeared in our path and started cat calling. One actually reached out and grabbed Maureen, while I was able to elude the other. Maureen threw an elbow and got away. It was a little scary. Neither one of us had ever been so aggressively "pursued" before so that was a new one for the both of us.
Nonetheless, we were feeling like we had accomplished quite a bit by the time we made it to the airport at 11:00 for what we were told was a 1:00 flight. We had another Starbucks, ate some nuts, listened to a bunch of American school kids sing while they were waiting for THEIR flight... We did this until 1. At 1, we queued up to board the flight. We were on by 1:15. It was only then that the ground crew began loading the bags. They scanned every bag before loading them on. At 2:15, we were STILL sitting on the tarmac. Our cruise ship is underway at 5:30, from Izmir. At this point, I am thinking we are NEVER going to get there. Maureen, who has typically been the optimistic one is also starting to doubt whether or not we are going to have an actual vacation that does not involve sitting in airports around the globe. As it stands, we have spent more time in airplanes/ airports since Friday at 4, than outside of them. It is Sunday. We did have a bit of excitement when we saw Hilary Clinton's big "United States of America" plane on the tarmac of the Istanbul airport. Had I known she was in town, I would have asked to hitch a ride with her... it wouldn't have hurt to ask, in any case...
In the end, the plane took off at 2:40, the same time that a baby began screaming. We listened to this new born squeal for the entirety of the 1 hour flight. I said in a rather loud voice, "If this were America, TSA would have escorted this screaming brat off long ago." Just call me a 'goodwill ambassador...'
We landed, collected our bags, which we were forced to check against our will, and exited the airport. (Did you know that you have to clear security as soon as you enter the airport in Turkey, and once you exit, you cannot re-enter, even the public spaces, without being scanned again?) There was no nice man holding a sign with our names on it. We waited and watched the clock. We had no number, no address, no instructions how to find the cruise ship. Now, it may be obvious to some, er, many of you that you just go to the port and there is the cruise ship. I am not a cruise-taker. While I might assume that the ship would be in A port, I wouldn't ever presume to know WHICH port, especially in a place where I do not speak the language. So, we waited a little longer. The ship was meant to set sail at 5:30. By 4:15, we were still weighing our options. Maureen went up to the taxi captain, who spoke very little English, and asked where the port was. He really understood nothing. At one point, a taxi, excuse me, taksi driver came up. He also spoke no English, however operating on the assumption that two Turks who speak no English make one who does, they began trying to crack the code of the two American women before them. At a certain point, the captain made a phone call and then handed me the phone. I spoke a very tentative "hello" down the receiver, to which I heard, "yes, where do you wanna go?" in very clear but heavily accented English. Thank GOD! I explained the situation. he asked if I meant to go to Izmir or Kusadasi. I said Izmir and he said, "well, then, you want to go to the port. Hand me back to my friend." In 30 seconds, we were in a cab and headed to the ship. We all agreed that the cab ride wouldn't cost more than 45 Turkish Lira, and sure enough, it came in under bid at 42.50. We got on board, into our spacious (I'm not being sarcastic, it is bigger, nicer than several of the rooms we have stayed in on our journeys...) cabin.
We have fallen into school trip, beach week on the med hell. Everywhere you look you see 16 year old scantily clad kids swilling alcohol or running down the halls of the ship. We even encountered a set of bare footed girls who wanted to use the exercise equipment in the gym today. Maureen chased them out at one point, but, like a couple of bad pennies, they were back in a few minutes, still without shoes, and testing the boundaries. We just let it go... Dr. Phil's 'would you rather be right or happy' mantra came to mind.
We ate dinner in one of the buffets tonight. Not exceptional, but passable. We are looking forward to eating one night in the 'you pay extra for actual good food' restaurant here on board, and then eating in our favorite restaurant in London on Sunday, Cecconi's. (Note to self... make a reservation for Sunday!)
After dinner, we picked up a bottle of Bailey's from the duty-free gift shop and came back to the room. We watched a little TV and had a little nip, then at 10:30, we went up to the "Metropolitan Lounge" where we were serenaded by "The Cristal Entertainment Team," which consists of, what I assume are an Asian husband-wife team, husband who plays the synth and wife who sings the hits. Sipping a pina colada (yes, insert Rupert Holmes here) and a chocolate martini, we listened until 11:30, when "Billy" came out for a sing-along of modern and traditional Greek melodies. We retired to the "Stars Lounge and Disco" and enjoyed some more hits for a few minutes when we decided enough was enough, and called it a night.
Tomorrow, we are not really sure what is going to happen... the latest edition of the "Cruise News" hasn't appeared under our door yet. But, regardless, we'll be up at 6 to hit the gym by 7 and breakfast by 8. We will be in Piraeus tomorrow, but only for a very short time. It is my understanding that there are no excursions tomorrow, so we will be on board for the duration. Not really sure how that is going to work. But, at least there is a gym with an elliptical machine and we can get our exercise in. AND, neither one of us has been seasick yet. Although, we are both wearing the little wrist bands. I am afraid to take them off, as they seem to be working. But, unless I take them off, I won't know if they work, or if I simply don't get seasick. Better to be safe than sorry!
Maureen and I are having fun, even though it sounds like we are doing a lot of complaining. It is just that it is not what we expected, However, it is ALWAYS and adventure. We hope that you are enjoying your Spring Break/ Holy Week, even if it is adventure-free!
kalispera!
(good evening in transliterated Greek)
This morning, we got up at 6 and went for a run, a Starbucks and breakfast in the hotel, (btw: the breakfast was the best hotel breakfast either one of us has ever eaten. Beautiful eggs and cheeses. Even the coffee was good. The juice... Well, it can't all be perfect...) we needed the sustinence after our run. We went from the hotel up to the main drag and ran down the hill, back up the hill and to the traffic circle and back twice. On our first trip to the traffic circle, two drunk and unkempt Turks appeared in our path and started cat calling. One actually reached out and grabbed Maureen, while I was able to elude the other. Maureen threw an elbow and got away. It was a little scary. Neither one of us had ever been so aggressively "pursued" before so that was a new one for the both of us.
Nonetheless, we were feeling like we had accomplished quite a bit by the time we made it to the airport at 11:00 for what we were told was a 1:00 flight. We had another Starbucks, ate some nuts, listened to a bunch of American school kids sing while they were waiting for THEIR flight... We did this until 1. At 1, we queued up to board the flight. We were on by 1:15. It was only then that the ground crew began loading the bags. They scanned every bag before loading them on. At 2:15, we were STILL sitting on the tarmac. Our cruise ship is underway at 5:30, from Izmir. At this point, I am thinking we are NEVER going to get there. Maureen, who has typically been the optimistic one is also starting to doubt whether or not we are going to have an actual vacation that does not involve sitting in airports around the globe. As it stands, we have spent more time in airplanes/ airports since Friday at 4, than outside of them. It is Sunday. We did have a bit of excitement when we saw Hilary Clinton's big "United States of America" plane on the tarmac of the Istanbul airport. Had I known she was in town, I would have asked to hitch a ride with her... it wouldn't have hurt to ask, in any case...
In the end, the plane took off at 2:40, the same time that a baby began screaming. We listened to this new born squeal for the entirety of the 1 hour flight. I said in a rather loud voice, "If this were America, TSA would have escorted this screaming brat off long ago." Just call me a 'goodwill ambassador...'
We landed, collected our bags, which we were forced to check against our will, and exited the airport. (Did you know that you have to clear security as soon as you enter the airport in Turkey, and once you exit, you cannot re-enter, even the public spaces, without being scanned again?) There was no nice man holding a sign with our names on it. We waited and watched the clock. We had no number, no address, no instructions how to find the cruise ship. Now, it may be obvious to some, er, many of you that you just go to the port and there is the cruise ship. I am not a cruise-taker. While I might assume that the ship would be in A port, I wouldn't ever presume to know WHICH port, especially in a place where I do not speak the language. So, we waited a little longer. The ship was meant to set sail at 5:30. By 4:15, we were still weighing our options. Maureen went up to the taxi captain, who spoke very little English, and asked where the port was. He really understood nothing. At one point, a taxi, excuse me, taksi driver came up. He also spoke no English, however operating on the assumption that two Turks who speak no English make one who does, they began trying to crack the code of the two American women before them. At a certain point, the captain made a phone call and then handed me the phone. I spoke a very tentative "hello" down the receiver, to which I heard, "yes, where do you wanna go?" in very clear but heavily accented English. Thank GOD! I explained the situation. he asked if I meant to go to Izmir or Kusadasi. I said Izmir and he said, "well, then, you want to go to the port. Hand me back to my friend." In 30 seconds, we were in a cab and headed to the ship. We all agreed that the cab ride wouldn't cost more than 45 Turkish Lira, and sure enough, it came in under bid at 42.50. We got on board, into our spacious (I'm not being sarcastic, it is bigger, nicer than several of the rooms we have stayed in on our journeys...) cabin.
We have fallen into school trip, beach week on the med hell. Everywhere you look you see 16 year old scantily clad kids swilling alcohol or running down the halls of the ship. We even encountered a set of bare footed girls who wanted to use the exercise equipment in the gym today. Maureen chased them out at one point, but, like a couple of bad pennies, they were back in a few minutes, still without shoes, and testing the boundaries. We just let it go... Dr. Phil's 'would you rather be right or happy' mantra came to mind.
We ate dinner in one of the buffets tonight. Not exceptional, but passable. We are looking forward to eating one night in the 'you pay extra for actual good food' restaurant here on board, and then eating in our favorite restaurant in London on Sunday, Cecconi's. (Note to self... make a reservation for Sunday!)
After dinner, we picked up a bottle of Bailey's from the duty-free gift shop and came back to the room. We watched a little TV and had a little nip, then at 10:30, we went up to the "Metropolitan Lounge" where we were serenaded by "The Cristal Entertainment Team," which consists of, what I assume are an Asian husband-wife team, husband who plays the synth and wife who sings the hits. Sipping a pina colada (yes, insert Rupert Holmes here) and a chocolate martini, we listened until 11:30, when "Billy" came out for a sing-along of modern and traditional Greek melodies. We retired to the "Stars Lounge and Disco" and enjoyed some more hits for a few minutes when we decided enough was enough, and called it a night.
Tomorrow, we are not really sure what is going to happen... the latest edition of the "Cruise News" hasn't appeared under our door yet. But, regardless, we'll be up at 6 to hit the gym by 7 and breakfast by 8. We will be in Piraeus tomorrow, but only for a very short time. It is my understanding that there are no excursions tomorrow, so we will be on board for the duration. Not really sure how that is going to work. But, at least there is a gym with an elliptical machine and we can get our exercise in. AND, neither one of us has been seasick yet. Although, we are both wearing the little wrist bands. I am afraid to take them off, as they seem to be working. But, unless I take them off, I won't know if they work, or if I simply don't get seasick. Better to be safe than sorry!
Maureen and I are having fun, even though it sounds like we are doing a lot of complaining. It is just that it is not what we expected, However, it is ALWAYS and adventure. We hope that you are enjoying your Spring Break/ Holy Week, even if it is adventure-free!
kalispera!
(good evening in transliterated Greek)
sabato 31 marzo 2012
Istanbul was Constantinople, but that's nobody's business but the Turks...
Travel Day: Day 1
Friday, 30 March 2012
Today is D-Day. The day Maureen and I had been looking forward to for months. Our Turkish adventure, which has been nothing short of marvelous (and I mean "marvelous" in the most literal sense of the word) up to now, and we haven't even left the Beltway, is about to begin.
Let me back up and tell you how this adventure came to be: My Latin teacher buddy, Liz, and her husband, Ryan, went on a Turkish/Greek cruise last year. She raved about it enough that I, too, wanted to go to Greece and Turkey for Spring break. I got her travel references and began the booking process.
I should have known that the trip would be ill-fated when the day I booked, paid, etc. was the day that the Concodia went down off the coast of Italy. I had no sooner submitted the payment when the phone rang and Donna D instructed me to turn on the TV. "Awwww... shit. The idea of a cruise is not so appealing now as it was 5 minutes ago..."
Fast forward 3 weeks: I get an email from my buddy at the cruise department of the Turkish travel agent I'd been using (as per Liz's recommendation), Güçlü YAMAN. I have no idea whether this is a man or a woman, and I have, for the first time in my life, no mental image of the person with whom I am conversing on the internet. But I digress... The latest correspondance is to communicate that the starting time, date, and location of the cruise have all been chnaged by the cruise line. Instead of leaving at 9 am on Sunday, 1 April, we will be leaving at 7:00 pm on Saturday night. This is a problem. This is a serious problem, as we are not set to arrive in Istabul, the original orgination point of the cruise, until 7:40 pm on Saturday night. I was asked if I could change my travel dates to the following week. After a mini-meltdown via email, and after I had thrown around some legal terms I learned from my YEARS of watching my judges on TV, (terms like 'material breech of contract...') the cruise company had agreed to comp us a night in a hotel in Istanbul Saturday, and pay for our airfare to Ismir, where we would meet the cruise and continue on our merry way. Until Athens, when we will have to change boats, because the cruise line had also decided to change the origination point. What a mess! But, alas, it would work out. We (well, really, just Maureen) were confident that it would be just fine.
Fast forward to Friday, 30 March, today, D-Day. Maureen started her day with a bomb threat at Annandale HS. Not the way you want to start the day you are FLYING half way around the globe, It was my turn to be optimistic: "Maureen, look at the bright side: at least you are not teaching anything today :) "
Maureen finished her day without a hitch, Donna D came to pick us up and transport us to Dulles, and we were off!
The flight between DC and London was rather uneventful except for the fact that we were travelling first class. When we booked, we wanted to use a companion ticket. The only non-black-out date that had ANY sort of availability was also a first class ticket. So, we paid for it partly in miles partly in dollars. When we checked in at Dulles, Maureen got a "Welcome, Miss Hunt, to first class!" My miles and my companion ticket got us there, and I didn't get even so much as "welcome back." Oh well. No worries, I think. We will be airborne soon enough and it won't matter one whit who got what sort of welcome. We go to the lounge and wait over a couple four glasses of pino grigio: all is right with the world... for the time being.
I did not sleep one bit, fending off leg cramps from hell. Maureen slept only a wee bit better than I did. We arrive in London, terminal 5 of Heathrow. Since we did not check our bags, we were able to de-plane and move quickly to our next destination: terminal 3. But, first, we had to take the people shifters across. We got to the bottom of the escalator, where we found a young girl barking orders: "PICK A SIDE. YOU WILL HAVE ONLY 20 SECONDS TO BOARD THE TRAIN!" I turned to Maureen and said, "Golly, I close my eyes for just a moment, and I wake up in Nazi Germany!" The train eventually comes and we head to Terminal 3, home of the 3rd world airlines. There is, however the requisite duty free shopping, Starbucks and Pret-a-Manger, which was a very good thing, since we had a 6 hour layover. I cannot remember why we didn't opt for the 11AM flight to Istanbul, other than the price may have been much higher. But, we took full advantage of the time by both getting make-up makeovers at the Bobby Brown counter in the Duty-Free. When it came time for lunch, we opted for Pret, which was a terrific choice, since all I wanted was a hard boiled egg. When I asked the young man arranging sandwiches if I could have just an egg, he went to the back and moments later appeared with an egg, peeled and in a small cup. "No charge, ma'am." Really? That was the nice surprise of the day. It is a good thing I got my egg, since the meal on the flight was a HUGE disappointment... But, I will get to that in a moment...
As we ate our respective lunches, Maureen kept watching the gate board. Our 2:00 flight had a "gate opening at 2:15" notice. Hmmm... not a good sign. Then, at 2:15, the message came up that the flight was delayed to 3:00. We went to the gate, and boarded at 3:15, departing at 4:00. The flight was missing only the chickens in coops in the last few rows. The entourage assembled was exactly what one would expect on an Eastern European flight... I will leave the description with your own imagination. I will say this: think of extreme stereotypes of everything you know about Turkey and there you have it. It was a bit of a culture shock for us. And, yes. It was a full flight, and I took one for the team and sat in the middle seat.
I had ordered special meals for the two of us at the time of booking: one fruit platter and one raw vegetable platter. I figured this would be the safest alternative, food-wise. I knew that BA would feed us well, especially in first class (we had poached lobster over asian slaw starter and hot chicken over lettuce for a main. Both absolutely amazing...). When the meal arrived, two fruit platters came, except Maureen's had a banana. They were identical. I said to the flight attendant, "Excuse me, but we had one raw vegetable plate and one fruit." To which she replied, "Yes, one fruit, (pointing to my plate which had a sticker saying 'fruit') and one raw vegetarian, (pointing to Maureen's vegetarian sticker)." I said, "excuse me, but these are the same." "No, one vegetarian, one fruit." "Noooooooo. Two fruit." "One say fruit, one say vegetarian." I was getting frustrated at this point, not having slept in what felt like DAYS! "THEY ARE IDENTICAL!" Then the flight attendant walked away. Just like that. We were left with our very sad looking fruit plates. However, I am glad I opted for the fruit as opposed to the crap they were serving to the masses. What upset me was that she was trying to convince me that the two were different when they were the SAME! Even my four old niece can tell the difference between SAME and DIFFERENT. It was a simple case of 'don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining.'
We eventually arrived in Istanbul, de-planed, went to the visa line, paid our $20 US and got a nice sticker and stamp for our passports (Maureen and I are always disappointed when we go somewhere and don't get a memento for the passport so this made up for all the trips to Portugal without any record.)
We emerged from the arrivals hall and found a man holding a sign with our names on it. He drove us across town, through all the sites lit by urban street lights and the big bright moon to our hotel, which happens to be in the most vibrant section of town. I am grateful that we were not stuck out by the airport. We actually feel like we have been to Istanbul now, if even for just 12 hours.
We came in, decompressed for 5 minutes and then set out to explore. We ended up in a lovely bistro and had two mezzes of aubergine-yogurt and red peppers and chilis to go with our lamb entrees. So good. But, when the bill came, it was just a slip of paper with the number 80 written on it. In no position to argue, and not knowing what the conversion rate was, we slapped down a credit card, declaring that it was the best meal, no matter the price. It was only the next morning that we discovered that the conversion is $1 to 1.78 Turkish Lira. So, the meal was about 45 bucks. Totally worth it!
We headed home with full bellies and fell into our respective beds, only to be woken at 6 am by my alarm. Time to get up and embrace the day! We went for a 3 mile run in the city center here near our hotel. It felt really good to get out and moving and the weather was perfect running weather: not at all cold! After our lovely run, we found a Starbucks (another time, I will write about the idea we have to do a book about all the Starbucks around the world we have visited...) and had a latte, feeling so self-satisfied for having run and having been productive on a Sunday morning, of all days!
Now, we are waiting for the driver to take us BACK to the airport for our flight to Izmir, where we shall meet the ship. Then, the real adventure begins...
Reflecting on this first leg of our Spring Break, I cannot help but be very thankful that I have had the opportunity to take this trip. I am very aware how very blessed I am. The week prior to the trip was a very bad week. I tend to forget how lucky I am, getting bogged down by the stupid details of life, forgetting to look at the big picture. Sitting in the Starbucks this morning, in FREAKING ISTANBUL, having run, having lost 143 pounds in the last 16 months, I had this overwhelming feeling of happiness. My life if very full and I am lucky to have such good friends and close family with whom I may share my life. A great way to start Holy Week, indeed.
Friday, 30 March 2012
Today is D-Day. The day Maureen and I had been looking forward to for months. Our Turkish adventure, which has been nothing short of marvelous (and I mean "marvelous" in the most literal sense of the word) up to now, and we haven't even left the Beltway, is about to begin.
Let me back up and tell you how this adventure came to be: My Latin teacher buddy, Liz, and her husband, Ryan, went on a Turkish/Greek cruise last year. She raved about it enough that I, too, wanted to go to Greece and Turkey for Spring break. I got her travel references and began the booking process.
I should have known that the trip would be ill-fated when the day I booked, paid, etc. was the day that the Concodia went down off the coast of Italy. I had no sooner submitted the payment when the phone rang and Donna D instructed me to turn on the TV. "Awwww... shit. The idea of a cruise is not so appealing now as it was 5 minutes ago..."
Fast forward 3 weeks: I get an email from my buddy at the cruise department of the Turkish travel agent I'd been using (as per Liz's recommendation), Güçlü YAMAN. I have no idea whether this is a man or a woman, and I have, for the first time in my life, no mental image of the person with whom I am conversing on the internet. But I digress... The latest correspondance is to communicate that the starting time, date, and location of the cruise have all been chnaged by the cruise line. Instead of leaving at 9 am on Sunday, 1 April, we will be leaving at 7:00 pm on Saturday night. This is a problem. This is a serious problem, as we are not set to arrive in Istabul, the original orgination point of the cruise, until 7:40 pm on Saturday night. I was asked if I could change my travel dates to the following week. After a mini-meltdown via email, and after I had thrown around some legal terms I learned from my YEARS of watching my judges on TV, (terms like 'material breech of contract...') the cruise company had agreed to comp us a night in a hotel in Istanbul Saturday, and pay for our airfare to Ismir, where we would meet the cruise and continue on our merry way. Until Athens, when we will have to change boats, because the cruise line had also decided to change the origination point. What a mess! But, alas, it would work out. We (well, really, just Maureen) were confident that it would be just fine.
Fast forward to Friday, 30 March, today, D-Day. Maureen started her day with a bomb threat at Annandale HS. Not the way you want to start the day you are FLYING half way around the globe, It was my turn to be optimistic: "Maureen, look at the bright side: at least you are not teaching anything today :) "
Maureen finished her day without a hitch, Donna D came to pick us up and transport us to Dulles, and we were off!
The flight between DC and London was rather uneventful except for the fact that we were travelling first class. When we booked, we wanted to use a companion ticket. The only non-black-out date that had ANY sort of availability was also a first class ticket. So, we paid for it partly in miles partly in dollars. When we checked in at Dulles, Maureen got a "Welcome, Miss Hunt, to first class!" My miles and my companion ticket got us there, and I didn't get even so much as "welcome back." Oh well. No worries, I think. We will be airborne soon enough and it won't matter one whit who got what sort of welcome. We go to the lounge and wait over a couple four glasses of pino grigio: all is right with the world... for the time being.
I did not sleep one bit, fending off leg cramps from hell. Maureen slept only a wee bit better than I did. We arrive in London, terminal 5 of Heathrow. Since we did not check our bags, we were able to de-plane and move quickly to our next destination: terminal 3. But, first, we had to take the people shifters across. We got to the bottom of the escalator, where we found a young girl barking orders: "PICK A SIDE. YOU WILL HAVE ONLY 20 SECONDS TO BOARD THE TRAIN!" I turned to Maureen and said, "Golly, I close my eyes for just a moment, and I wake up in Nazi Germany!" The train eventually comes and we head to Terminal 3, home of the 3rd world airlines. There is, however the requisite duty free shopping, Starbucks and Pret-a-Manger, which was a very good thing, since we had a 6 hour layover. I cannot remember why we didn't opt for the 11AM flight to Istanbul, other than the price may have been much higher. But, we took full advantage of the time by both getting make-up makeovers at the Bobby Brown counter in the Duty-Free. When it came time for lunch, we opted for Pret, which was a terrific choice, since all I wanted was a hard boiled egg. When I asked the young man arranging sandwiches if I could have just an egg, he went to the back and moments later appeared with an egg, peeled and in a small cup. "No charge, ma'am." Really? That was the nice surprise of the day. It is a good thing I got my egg, since the meal on the flight was a HUGE disappointment... But, I will get to that in a moment...
As we ate our respective lunches, Maureen kept watching the gate board. Our 2:00 flight had a "gate opening at 2:15" notice. Hmmm... not a good sign. Then, at 2:15, the message came up that the flight was delayed to 3:00. We went to the gate, and boarded at 3:15, departing at 4:00. The flight was missing only the chickens in coops in the last few rows. The entourage assembled was exactly what one would expect on an Eastern European flight... I will leave the description with your own imagination. I will say this: think of extreme stereotypes of everything you know about Turkey and there you have it. It was a bit of a culture shock for us. And, yes. It was a full flight, and I took one for the team and sat in the middle seat.
I had ordered special meals for the two of us at the time of booking: one fruit platter and one raw vegetable platter. I figured this would be the safest alternative, food-wise. I knew that BA would feed us well, especially in first class (we had poached lobster over asian slaw starter and hot chicken over lettuce for a main. Both absolutely amazing...). When the meal arrived, two fruit platters came, except Maureen's had a banana. They were identical. I said to the flight attendant, "Excuse me, but we had one raw vegetable plate and one fruit." To which she replied, "Yes, one fruit, (pointing to my plate which had a sticker saying 'fruit') and one raw vegetarian, (pointing to Maureen's vegetarian sticker)." I said, "excuse me, but these are the same." "No, one vegetarian, one fruit." "Noooooooo. Two fruit." "One say fruit, one say vegetarian." I was getting frustrated at this point, not having slept in what felt like DAYS! "THEY ARE IDENTICAL!" Then the flight attendant walked away. Just like that. We were left with our very sad looking fruit plates. However, I am glad I opted for the fruit as opposed to the crap they were serving to the masses. What upset me was that she was trying to convince me that the two were different when they were the SAME! Even my four old niece can tell the difference between SAME and DIFFERENT. It was a simple case of 'don't pee on my leg and tell me it's raining.'
We eventually arrived in Istanbul, de-planed, went to the visa line, paid our $20 US and got a nice sticker and stamp for our passports (Maureen and I are always disappointed when we go somewhere and don't get a memento for the passport so this made up for all the trips to Portugal without any record.)
We emerged from the arrivals hall and found a man holding a sign with our names on it. He drove us across town, through all the sites lit by urban street lights and the big bright moon to our hotel, which happens to be in the most vibrant section of town. I am grateful that we were not stuck out by the airport. We actually feel like we have been to Istanbul now, if even for just 12 hours.
We came in, decompressed for 5 minutes and then set out to explore. We ended up in a lovely bistro and had two mezzes of aubergine-yogurt and red peppers and chilis to go with our lamb entrees. So good. But, when the bill came, it was just a slip of paper with the number 80 written on it. In no position to argue, and not knowing what the conversion rate was, we slapped down a credit card, declaring that it was the best meal, no matter the price. It was only the next morning that we discovered that the conversion is $1 to 1.78 Turkish Lira. So, the meal was about 45 bucks. Totally worth it!
We headed home with full bellies and fell into our respective beds, only to be woken at 6 am by my alarm. Time to get up and embrace the day! We went for a 3 mile run in the city center here near our hotel. It felt really good to get out and moving and the weather was perfect running weather: not at all cold! After our lovely run, we found a Starbucks (another time, I will write about the idea we have to do a book about all the Starbucks around the world we have visited...) and had a latte, feeling so self-satisfied for having run and having been productive on a Sunday morning, of all days!
Now, we are waiting for the driver to take us BACK to the airport for our flight to Izmir, where we shall meet the ship. Then, the real adventure begins...
Reflecting on this first leg of our Spring Break, I cannot help but be very thankful that I have had the opportunity to take this trip. I am very aware how very blessed I am. The week prior to the trip was a very bad week. I tend to forget how lucky I am, getting bogged down by the stupid details of life, forgetting to look at the big picture. Sitting in the Starbucks this morning, in FREAKING ISTANBUL, having run, having lost 143 pounds in the last 16 months, I had this overwhelming feeling of happiness. My life if very full and I am lucky to have such good friends and close family with whom I may share my life. A great way to start Holy Week, indeed.
mercoledì 4 agosto 2010
Lisbon
Arriving in Lisbon was a very bittersweet moment. On the one hand, it meant that our trip was almost over. On the other hand, it meant that our trip was almost over. Rolling in on day 15, both Maureen and I were a bit punch drunk. We were both exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. GPS lady directed us straight to the hotel, which delighted me to no end. The thought of driving in circles in downtown Lisbon in search of a Sheraton was really the last thing I wanted to do.
We decided that the best way to plan our last stop was to do the bus tours on Sunday afternoon, the tram tour on Monday and then spend our last day luxuriating on the beach. So, we got all of our sightseeing done on Monday and Tuesday, and we saw everything there was to see of the city: two bus tours, a street car tour and a trip to the top of the Sta. Justa elevator (as well as the extra bit up a spiral staircase to the upper tower, which freaked both of us out just a bit). The only thing we did not do was the river tour, but we did that in Porto, and frankly, as nice as it was in Porto, I am just not sure that it added much to our understanding of the city. To spend the time and the money in Lisbon would probably have been a colossal waste.
On Tuesday, our penultimate day, we slept in a little, and decided to be out the door by 11 and on the beach by noon. I looked up on the internet "Lisbon beaches" and found out that Santubal and Portinho were two nice beaches a short distance from Lisbon. We set off in search of sand and sun.
The GPS lady was not all that helpful. Although she asserted that she knew where she was sending us, she was just confused most of the time: "turn half right in 300 meters, now turn left." At one point, close to Santubal, we just turned her off. By 12:45 we were pulling up to Santubal and there was absolutely no place to park. There were cars lining both sides of the very narrow state road which hugged the coast. We decided that, surely, there would be a better place further along. Sure enough, we came to Portinho and followed another narrow lane to a parking lot, which was (of course) packed. It was then that we realized that it was August and all of Europe was on vacation. It would be fairly unlikely to find anyplace off the beaten path to park and sun.
So, resigned that we were not finding a great undiscovered gem of a beach, we decided to return to Lisbon and try to find a beach closer to home base. "ESTORIL! Why did I not think of that before??" We plugged Estoril into the GPS and our lady began to direct us back to civilization. Upon arrriving in Estoril, we kept our eyes peeled for a beach. How hard could it be...? It is a beach town on the coast! But, I will tell you, gentle reader, it is a lot harder than you might think. You cannot see the coastline from the car, you just see water. We went as far as Cascais and decided to turn back. It was on our way back that we spotted a parking lot above a small beach. We drove in and found a spot almost immediately. The beach was reached by a very steep, skinny, stone staircase leading to a small bathing area. We threw down our towels at 2:25, just 2 and a half hours past our originally established ETA.
I was so excited to see sand and water that I headed right for the ocean. Upon reaching the edge, I noticed that there was no sand in the water: it was all rocks. I was immediately gutted. This was absolutely the last kind of beach that the girl with the titanium plate in her leg would want to swim in. Tentatively, I very gingerly took half steps until I was able at least to get in as far as my mid thigh. The water was cold and clear. It was really a gorgeous spot. I wish I could have been more confident in my footing, enough to step a little further out so I could stand waist deep.
I came back in and plopped down on my towel. The heat was overpowering, the sun blistering. However, we baked under the cloudless sky for three hours, getting some really good sun. By about 5:30, we decided to pack it in, since we needed to get back and pack it up at the hotel.
Rather than take the highway home, we decided to take the national road, the N6 and follow the coastline back to Lisbon. About 5 minutes past our rocky beach, we looked down and saw exactly what we had been looking for: a traditional, sandy beach, with lots of parking across the street, without having to scale the side of the cliffs to reach our patch of ground. "Son of a bitch..."
Maureen, ever the optimist, just replied: "Well, at least we know for next time."
Yes. Next time. Now that our trip has come to a close, and we can look back, I am reminded of what Vivetta wrote to me just yesterday. She said, "All good things must come to an end, but with such lovely vacations, you will carry with you the memories of all you have seen and done all year long."
She is right. I will carry with me every part of this trip all year. It will sustain me when things get rough. It will console me when I am feeling trapped. And, the thought of "next time" will save me when I am feeling restless. Next time, indeed.
We decided that the best way to plan our last stop was to do the bus tours on Sunday afternoon, the tram tour on Monday and then spend our last day luxuriating on the beach. So, we got all of our sightseeing done on Monday and Tuesday, and we saw everything there was to see of the city: two bus tours, a street car tour and a trip to the top of the Sta. Justa elevator (as well as the extra bit up a spiral staircase to the upper tower, which freaked both of us out just a bit). The only thing we did not do was the river tour, but we did that in Porto, and frankly, as nice as it was in Porto, I am just not sure that it added much to our understanding of the city. To spend the time and the money in Lisbon would probably have been a colossal waste.
On Tuesday, our penultimate day, we slept in a little, and decided to be out the door by 11 and on the beach by noon. I looked up on the internet "Lisbon beaches" and found out that Santubal and Portinho were two nice beaches a short distance from Lisbon. We set off in search of sand and sun.
The GPS lady was not all that helpful. Although she asserted that she knew where she was sending us, she was just confused most of the time: "turn half right in 300 meters, now turn left." At one point, close to Santubal, we just turned her off. By 12:45 we were pulling up to Santubal and there was absolutely no place to park. There were cars lining both sides of the very narrow state road which hugged the coast. We decided that, surely, there would be a better place further along. Sure enough, we came to Portinho and followed another narrow lane to a parking lot, which was (of course) packed. It was then that we realized that it was August and all of Europe was on vacation. It would be fairly unlikely to find anyplace off the beaten path to park and sun.
So, resigned that we were not finding a great undiscovered gem of a beach, we decided to return to Lisbon and try to find a beach closer to home base. "ESTORIL! Why did I not think of that before??" We plugged Estoril into the GPS and our lady began to direct us back to civilization. Upon arrriving in Estoril, we kept our eyes peeled for a beach. How hard could it be...? It is a beach town on the coast! But, I will tell you, gentle reader, it is a lot harder than you might think. You cannot see the coastline from the car, you just see water. We went as far as Cascais and decided to turn back. It was on our way back that we spotted a parking lot above a small beach. We drove in and found a spot almost immediately. The beach was reached by a very steep, skinny, stone staircase leading to a small bathing area. We threw down our towels at 2:25, just 2 and a half hours past our originally established ETA.
I was so excited to see sand and water that I headed right for the ocean. Upon reaching the edge, I noticed that there was no sand in the water: it was all rocks. I was immediately gutted. This was absolutely the last kind of beach that the girl with the titanium plate in her leg would want to swim in. Tentatively, I very gingerly took half steps until I was able at least to get in as far as my mid thigh. The water was cold and clear. It was really a gorgeous spot. I wish I could have been more confident in my footing, enough to step a little further out so I could stand waist deep.
I came back in and plopped down on my towel. The heat was overpowering, the sun blistering. However, we baked under the cloudless sky for three hours, getting some really good sun. By about 5:30, we decided to pack it in, since we needed to get back and pack it up at the hotel.
Rather than take the highway home, we decided to take the national road, the N6 and follow the coastline back to Lisbon. About 5 minutes past our rocky beach, we looked down and saw exactly what we had been looking for: a traditional, sandy beach, with lots of parking across the street, without having to scale the side of the cliffs to reach our patch of ground. "Son of a bitch..."
Maureen, ever the optimist, just replied: "Well, at least we know for next time."
Yes. Next time. Now that our trip has come to a close, and we can look back, I am reminded of what Vivetta wrote to me just yesterday. She said, "All good things must come to an end, but with such lovely vacations, you will carry with you the memories of all you have seen and done all year long."
She is right. I will carry with me every part of this trip all year. It will sustain me when things get rough. It will console me when I am feeling trapped. And, the thought of "next time" will save me when I am feeling restless. Next time, indeed.
domenica 1 agosto 2010
Merida
Merida
Back to Spain.
Maureen suggested that we add a night in Spain after Evora and before Lisbon at the end of our trip. Maureen had visited Merida when she was studying in Salamanca several years ago and assured me that it was a town worthy of a look.
I had a bad feeling about Merida because, again GPS lady was not able (or willing) to tell us where our hotel was. We arrived in Merida and went directly to the information office, who told us that a) the hotel was close by, b) there was a place to put the car while we checked in and c) that there was a tour train that would take us around the city. I was pleased by all three pieces of information.
Armed with knowledge, we headed toward the hotel. Sure enough, we found the hotel without any problem. The problem was that there was no place to leave the car while we checked in. So, we circled. On the third pass, I told Maureen to get out and ask inside the hotel what we should do. I couldn't believe that a 5 star hotel did not have a valet out front.
I made two more circles and on the third pass, a spot out front finally opened up. I quickly pulled in and went in to join Maureen in the check in line. When it was our turn, the receptionist asked us if we had left the keys in the car so that it could be parked. ARE YOU KIDDING? DID I LEAVE THE KEYS IN THE IGNITION IN A PUBLIC PLACE, IN A BUSY SQUARE IN SPAIN?? Clearly, she was either really trusting, or was testing the stupid American girls...
After getting settled into our room, we decided to make our way to the Roman archeological site. We walked along the pedestrian plaza and noticed something we had never seen before: Merida has a system of cold water mists that are installed about every 100 feet just about 7 feet above the street. It would have been great, if only the mist had found its way to the ground.
In just a few minutes, we were in the square in front of the Roman theater and amphitheater. It had to have been 150 degrees outside. I thought to myself, "Merida must be Spanish for hell... because it is just that hot..." (Actually, Merida is a Spanish adaptation of the Roman name of the town-- Augusta Emerita. The Roman emperor, Augustus, established the town as a retirement community for his soldiers who had fought in Spain and Britain. This concludes your history lesson.)
We bought our tickets and went into the Roman complex. The sun was so intense that I could actually feel my skin sizzling, my scalp was sweating so intensely that I felt as if I was melting from the top down. After walking and photographing the two structures, it was time for the tour train. We had been told that the train did not take siesta and that it had continuous hours. That was actually not correct information. We stood next to the stationary train and waited. For 45 minutes. Finally, Maureen walked across the square to the icecream stand and asked the man if he knew anything. He said that the train would leave at 4:30, half an hour from that point. So, we waited a little more. We stood with a Spanish family of 4 who had been there about as long as we had. A Portuguese family had thrown in the towel about 20 minutes earlier. At about 4:35, an unassuming young man walked over and asked if we were waiting for the train. It was only when he pulled out a set of keys that we realized he was the driver.
He announced that he could not depart until there were 10 passengers. There were 6 of us there. "Can we just buy the other 4 tickets??" asked the Spanish mother. My sentiments exactly. The driver turned on the engine and almost as if a siren had begun to sing, a whole flock of people approached, ready to get their tour on. "Didn't this guy ever see 'Field of Dreams?' 'If you build it, they will come...'
And come they did. The whole train was full and we set off. The commentary was in Spanish, so I didn't understand a single word... well, not exactly... I understood the random Latin terms the commentator threw out. But, other than SPINA this and LEGIO that and PROVINCIA the other, I really didn't know what the guy was talking about. But, for 3 euros, it was't a loss at all. I was able to see the entire city from the comfort of an open sided tour train.
Merida is (as I understand it) a pretty typical Spanish town. The place pretty much shuts down from about 3 until 6. People eat dinner after 9 and then they sit in the square sipping beers, smoking cigarettes, and watching their kids run amok. After an amazing dinner of grilled steak, then a promenade to the Plaza de Espana, and an ice cold home made lemonade, Merida was redeemed. I really enjoyed my time in this very small city, despite the ominous feeling I has as I drove into town. It is a place I will definitely find again.
Back to Spain.
Maureen suggested that we add a night in Spain after Evora and before Lisbon at the end of our trip. Maureen had visited Merida when she was studying in Salamanca several years ago and assured me that it was a town worthy of a look.
I had a bad feeling about Merida because, again GPS lady was not able (or willing) to tell us where our hotel was. We arrived in Merida and went directly to the information office, who told us that a) the hotel was close by, b) there was a place to put the car while we checked in and c) that there was a tour train that would take us around the city. I was pleased by all three pieces of information.
Armed with knowledge, we headed toward the hotel. Sure enough, we found the hotel without any problem. The problem was that there was no place to leave the car while we checked in. So, we circled. On the third pass, I told Maureen to get out and ask inside the hotel what we should do. I couldn't believe that a 5 star hotel did not have a valet out front.
I made two more circles and on the third pass, a spot out front finally opened up. I quickly pulled in and went in to join Maureen in the check in line. When it was our turn, the receptionist asked us if we had left the keys in the car so that it could be parked. ARE YOU KIDDING? DID I LEAVE THE KEYS IN THE IGNITION IN A PUBLIC PLACE, IN A BUSY SQUARE IN SPAIN?? Clearly, she was either really trusting, or was testing the stupid American girls...
After getting settled into our room, we decided to make our way to the Roman archeological site. We walked along the pedestrian plaza and noticed something we had never seen before: Merida has a system of cold water mists that are installed about every 100 feet just about 7 feet above the street. It would have been great, if only the mist had found its way to the ground.
In just a few minutes, we were in the square in front of the Roman theater and amphitheater. It had to have been 150 degrees outside. I thought to myself, "Merida must be Spanish for hell... because it is just that hot..." (Actually, Merida is a Spanish adaptation of the Roman name of the town-- Augusta Emerita. The Roman emperor, Augustus, established the town as a retirement community for his soldiers who had fought in Spain and Britain. This concludes your history lesson.)
We bought our tickets and went into the Roman complex. The sun was so intense that I could actually feel my skin sizzling, my scalp was sweating so intensely that I felt as if I was melting from the top down. After walking and photographing the two structures, it was time for the tour train. We had been told that the train did not take siesta and that it had continuous hours. That was actually not correct information. We stood next to the stationary train and waited. For 45 minutes. Finally, Maureen walked across the square to the icecream stand and asked the man if he knew anything. He said that the train would leave at 4:30, half an hour from that point. So, we waited a little more. We stood with a Spanish family of 4 who had been there about as long as we had. A Portuguese family had thrown in the towel about 20 minutes earlier. At about 4:35, an unassuming young man walked over and asked if we were waiting for the train. It was only when he pulled out a set of keys that we realized he was the driver.
He announced that he could not depart until there were 10 passengers. There were 6 of us there. "Can we just buy the other 4 tickets??" asked the Spanish mother. My sentiments exactly. The driver turned on the engine and almost as if a siren had begun to sing, a whole flock of people approached, ready to get their tour on. "Didn't this guy ever see 'Field of Dreams?' 'If you build it, they will come...'
And come they did. The whole train was full and we set off. The commentary was in Spanish, so I didn't understand a single word... well, not exactly... I understood the random Latin terms the commentator threw out. But, other than SPINA this and LEGIO that and PROVINCIA the other, I really didn't know what the guy was talking about. But, for 3 euros, it was't a loss at all. I was able to see the entire city from the comfort of an open sided tour train.
Merida is (as I understand it) a pretty typical Spanish town. The place pretty much shuts down from about 3 until 6. People eat dinner after 9 and then they sit in the square sipping beers, smoking cigarettes, and watching their kids run amok. After an amazing dinner of grilled steak, then a promenade to the Plaza de Espana, and an ice cold home made lemonade, Merida was redeemed. I really enjoyed my time in this very small city, despite the ominous feeling I has as I drove into town. It is a place I will definitely find again.
Evora
Evora
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool."
When I was planning my trip through Portugal, even before Maureen was on board, I knew I wanted to visit Evora. When I was in Lisbon before, I kept seeing signs on the road. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I took to the web to learn that there was a Roman temple there. That was good enough for me! It went on the itinerary.
So, we placed Evora on the list just before Merida (also known for its Roman sites), just after Sagres at the end of the earth.
On the way, we saw a sign on the road for a town with a castle (I have become quite fixated with castles on this trip), and we decided to make a side trip. The GPS lady assured us that our castle was only 3 kilometers from the road. And sure enough, we came upon the town with the castle complex on the hill in just a few minutes.
I want to take this opportunity to explain my most basic sight seeing philosophy: before you park at the first lot you find, you have to drive to the destination, and see how close you can park. I live by this rule of thumb. So, with this in mind, we ascended the steep hill, mountain almost, to the crest of the castle. We kept getting closer and closer. Soon, we were in front of the church and were winding through the narrow streets of the village. But, alas, there were no spots to leave the car. "You better be taking pictures! There is no way we could ever get this close to some of this stuff!"
Before I knew it, we had found our way to the end of the only street which could take us out of the village. This narrow street had metal barricades across it. "Now what..." Just then, from the car in front of us (perhaps I was not the only one who lives by the golden rule of sight seeing) jumped an older woman who swiftly moved the metal barricades, leaving them open for our escape. We had done it! We had seen the whole castle-village complex and had never once left the car!
So, on to our destination:
We arrived at Evora just before 2pm and were again on the hunt for our hotel: GPS lady did not think our hotel's address was worthy of including in her bag of tricks. We made three passes around the perimeter of the town when we saw the sign for our hotel: Albargaria Vittoria, a very modest hotel... really more of a motel by my definition of the term. We asked the receptionist what the best way was to reach the city center. She replied that we were a short 10-15 minute walk to the center of town. I looked at Maureen and said, "I'll bet we can get closer if we drive over and park on the other side of town."
Famous last words.
We drove over to the other side of town, where the temple to Diana was (although, most scholars agree that Diana was not the goddess worshiped there). Rather than park and walk up, I suggested that we drive inside the city walls and see how close we could get. I must admit that Evora's streets are very, very narrow, in fact, the narrowest I have seen on this or any trip I have taken. At one point, I feared we woudl get stuck between two pillars. But, we made it through, seeing many nooks and crannies generally off the beaten path. Then, as if by magic, in front of us sprung up the temple. We slowed down, took out our camera and snapped away. Objective reached!
Not ready for the adventure to end, we decided to stop for lunch (Maureen had seen a McDonalds sign when we came into town) and plot our next move. Besides, we had seen all of Evora. We needed to move further afield.
Over a couple of Big Macs, we opened up our guide books and skimmed the sections around Evora. Maureen found the money shot:
"Hey, listen to this one: 'Monseraz is a quaint hill town where women sit along the roads crocheting and bitches lie at their feet with distended teats.' What do you think THAT means?"
"I think that means we have found our new destination. I want to see some bitches..."
So, we were off to Monseraz.
In about 45 minutes, we arrived at a hill-top castle at the edge of the largest lake in all of Europe. We made our ascent, this time, passing no cars, no people. When we got to the very tip top of the hill, he were forced to park in a lot, but this lot was not like the lots we had seen earlier. This one was almost completely empty. Ours was one of 3 cars in the lot. We started up the sharp incline set before the ramparts. Upon entering one of the stone gates, Maureen made a very startling observation:
"I think we are the only ones here."
She was right. There were NO people out and about. There were NO sounds coming from the houses, which were all closed up tight. It was like no one was home and we were letting ourselves into someone else's house, uninvited. We walked, took pictures, looked around. Eventually, we found a small gift shop which was open, and within a couple of minutes, we were joined by a German couple. At "rush hour" Maureen counted 9 people total hobbling along on the uneven cobblestone avenue.
After about 45 minutes of wandering around, we decided it was time to return to 'civilization' and returned to the car. The problem was that the way we came in was all one way and we couldn't find the way out. Maureen plugged EVORA into the GPS and the GPS lady started our directions back. However, GPS lady was a little confused and she directed us to another (out of bounds) area of the town. But, it was really fortuitous that we ended up where we did.
"Maureen! Look!!"
And sure enough, we were sitting on a hill directly opposite from the village we had just explored. We had a unique vantage point from which to snap pictures. It was almost as it we were standing over the town and someone had tilted it toward us for a better view.
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool." We didn't see any bitches, but we did end up in a completely unpredicably cool place.
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool."
When I was planning my trip through Portugal, even before Maureen was on board, I knew I wanted to visit Evora. When I was in Lisbon before, I kept seeing signs on the road. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I took to the web to learn that there was a Roman temple there. That was good enough for me! It went on the itinerary.
So, we placed Evora on the list just before Merida (also known for its Roman sites), just after Sagres at the end of the earth.
On the way, we saw a sign on the road for a town with a castle (I have become quite fixated with castles on this trip), and we decided to make a side trip. The GPS lady assured us that our castle was only 3 kilometers from the road. And sure enough, we came upon the town with the castle complex on the hill in just a few minutes.
I want to take this opportunity to explain my most basic sight seeing philosophy: before you park at the first lot you find, you have to drive to the destination, and see how close you can park. I live by this rule of thumb. So, with this in mind, we ascended the steep hill, mountain almost, to the crest of the castle. We kept getting closer and closer. Soon, we were in front of the church and were winding through the narrow streets of the village. But, alas, there were no spots to leave the car. "You better be taking pictures! There is no way we could ever get this close to some of this stuff!"
Before I knew it, we had found our way to the end of the only street which could take us out of the village. This narrow street had metal barricades across it. "Now what..." Just then, from the car in front of us (perhaps I was not the only one who lives by the golden rule of sight seeing) jumped an older woman who swiftly moved the metal barricades, leaving them open for our escape. We had done it! We had seen the whole castle-village complex and had never once left the car!
So, on to our destination:
We arrived at Evora just before 2pm and were again on the hunt for our hotel: GPS lady did not think our hotel's address was worthy of including in her bag of tricks. We made three passes around the perimeter of the town when we saw the sign for our hotel: Albargaria Vittoria, a very modest hotel... really more of a motel by my definition of the term. We asked the receptionist what the best way was to reach the city center. She replied that we were a short 10-15 minute walk to the center of town. I looked at Maureen and said, "I'll bet we can get closer if we drive over and park on the other side of town."
Famous last words.
We drove over to the other side of town, where the temple to Diana was (although, most scholars agree that Diana was not the goddess worshiped there). Rather than park and walk up, I suggested that we drive inside the city walls and see how close we could get. I must admit that Evora's streets are very, very narrow, in fact, the narrowest I have seen on this or any trip I have taken. At one point, I feared we woudl get stuck between two pillars. But, we made it through, seeing many nooks and crannies generally off the beaten path. Then, as if by magic, in front of us sprung up the temple. We slowed down, took out our camera and snapped away. Objective reached!
Not ready for the adventure to end, we decided to stop for lunch (Maureen had seen a McDonalds sign when we came into town) and plot our next move. Besides, we had seen all of Evora. We needed to move further afield.
Over a couple of Big Macs, we opened up our guide books and skimmed the sections around Evora. Maureen found the money shot:
"Hey, listen to this one: 'Monseraz is a quaint hill town where women sit along the roads crocheting and bitches lie at their feet with distended teats.' What do you think THAT means?"
"I think that means we have found our new destination. I want to see some bitches..."
So, we were off to Monseraz.
In about 45 minutes, we arrived at a hill-top castle at the edge of the largest lake in all of Europe. We made our ascent, this time, passing no cars, no people. When we got to the very tip top of the hill, he were forced to park in a lot, but this lot was not like the lots we had seen earlier. This one was almost completely empty. Ours was one of 3 cars in the lot. We started up the sharp incline set before the ramparts. Upon entering one of the stone gates, Maureen made a very startling observation:
"I think we are the only ones here."
She was right. There were NO people out and about. There were NO sounds coming from the houses, which were all closed up tight. It was like no one was home and we were letting ourselves into someone else's house, uninvited. We walked, took pictures, looked around. Eventually, we found a small gift shop which was open, and within a couple of minutes, we were joined by a German couple. At "rush hour" Maureen counted 9 people total hobbling along on the uneven cobblestone avenue.
After about 45 minutes of wandering around, we decided it was time to return to 'civilization' and returned to the car. The problem was that the way we came in was all one way and we couldn't find the way out. Maureen plugged EVORA into the GPS and the GPS lady started our directions back. However, GPS lady was a little confused and she directed us to another (out of bounds) area of the town. But, it was really fortuitous that we ended up where we did.
"Maureen! Look!!"
And sure enough, we were sitting on a hill directly opposite from the village we had just explored. We had a unique vantage point from which to snap pictures. It was almost as it we were standing over the town and someone had tilted it toward us for a better view.
"We might not always end up where we intended, but you have got to admit that everywhere we end up is pretty cool." We didn't see any bitches, but we did end up in a completely unpredicably cool place.
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