Shawn Was Here

What?  Has somebody used that line already?

I’m about to squeeze almost 4 weeks of Egyptian experiences into one blog post.  Are you sitting down?  Good.

An obligatory stop is those little pyramids Egypt is so famous for.  They are mostly what you imagine:  ancient (4,000 years old!), massive, with perfect geometry… and overrun with tourists.  It’s hard to avoid the hordes, but the pyramids are still worth visiting.  What you might not have expected is that they are not out in a remote desert somewhere;  they are in the middle of a modern neighborhood on the outskirts of Cairo.  There is actually a golf course next door.

In Egypt they also have some desert.  (Just a little.)  I visited the aptly named “Great Sand Sea.”  Sand dunes for as far as the eye could see.  I tried to cycle out to the them, but it turns out bikes don’t work well in soft sand dunes.  I had to abandon the bike and trudge through on foot to get some sand dune pics.  Travelling is a tough job .  (Did I mention it’s hot in the desert?).

It was right about this time, right here, when I decided that “The Great Sand Sea” was the perfect name for this place

More desert anyone?  Near the Bahariya Oasis, desert sand clashes with crazy white rock formations.  It’s a creates a surreal landscape.  I had the privilege of sleeping out in this desert, under the stars.  Actually, seeing the canvas of stars from my sleeping bag was a pleasure; freezing my nuts off was not.  Who knew a place so hot during the day could get so damn cold at night??

Chalk-white rocks and sand, a combination I’ve never seen, and probably never will again

I encountered something new during my stay in Cairo:  a sandstorm.  It was official, too, I checked the Cairo weather forecast on the internet and it said “Sandstorm.”  It’s super windy and the sun gets blotted out from the sky.  It’s pretty cool for about 45 seconds, then every exposed square inch of your body gets caked in sand, and you can’t see anything because the sand is stinging your eyes… right about then, it starts to suck.

In other news, I found some peanut butter in the diplomatic area of Cairo.  Score!  I have learned how to find peanut butter in foreign countries.  Go to the neighborhood where the foreign embassies are located.  That’s where the expats live in work.  If there is any PB in the country, you’ll find it there.  That’s today’s travel tip.

After a one year hiatus, I returned to the world of scuba diving in Egypt!  I dived the Blue Hole in the Red Sea, one of the world’s most famous.  The sensation of being suspended underwater has not lost its novelty for me.  Great stuff.

About 10 years ago I stayed in the Luxor Hotel in Las Vegas.  The hotel is in the shape of a pyramid.  I just realized this is strange, because I’ve now been to Luxor, and there are no pyramids there.  There are a lot of tombs, ruins and temples, though.

These are the two bouncers at the Luxor Temple.  Don’t piss them off.

If you get past the bouncers, here is a little of what you get to see:  columns, oh yeah!On a blog administration note, I’m running out of words to describe impressive things I see around the world.  I used up all my superlatives about 18 months.  My vocab simply is not that big and I feel like this blog is becoming a broken record.  But, I’m just telling it like a see it.  So, when describing some far-flung location, if I use “awesome” for the 83rd time in the last two years, it’s because it is awesome.  You are just going to have to trust me.   (Or better yet, if you haven’t already, get out here and go see the world and see what I mean!)

Speaking of superlatives… These temples, tombs, pyramids, all this stuff the ancient Egyptians have built, really are grand and mind-blowing.  I had figured that the Romans were the most extravagant civilization in history, but no, I think even their monstrous constructions are humbled by what the Pharaohs had built.  Could these Pharaohs be the most egotistical people in history?  Maybe.

I hope you had a Merry Christmas!  This is my third Christmas on the road.  It might have been a little different from yours.  People don’t celebrate it down here.  I don’t think anybody knows it’s happening.  It’s just another day here in Aswan, Egypt.  So Christmas for me consisted of hot temperatures, seeing some temples and going for a felucca (traditional wooden sail boat) ride on the Nile River:

I have a Christmas present for you:  more Egypt pics.  I know, I know, it’s just want you always wanted.  You’re welcome.

I was in an internet cafe the other day trying to open the computer’s CD tray.  The stupid thing was stuck.  I tried a couple of tricks I knew from my years in the biz, but no luck.  The guy who works there comes over and starts rubbing his hand over the computer’s case, all the while mumbling in Arabic.  All of a sudden, WHACK!  WHACK!  he slams the top of the computer!  … And the CD tray opens.  I start laughing.  He smiles and says, in a very thick accent, “This is Egyptian way.”  I like it :)

This is my last post from a part of the world that is traditionally called the Middle East.  I have been almost 3 months in this interesting part of the world.  As I do a quick look back, for me the Middle East has been a lot of history, impressive structures & sites (castles, mosques, temples and pyramids, oh my!), great cities, and incredible food.  For a few reasons, I have partied a lot less in this part of the world than I have elsewhere.  But this is probably a good thing for my shrinking bank account and growing beer belly :)

So.  I’m heading into Africa.  I will be going to places where internet cafes are few and far between, so we might not talk much for the next few months.  But, I’ll be back…

I hope you have killer New Years.  Tomorrow a boat is taking me south.  To Sudan.

I went to church a few times in the 80s, as I recall, but nothing more.  So, I am no religion buff, but you don’t have to be to enjoy this part of the world.  Jerusalem is a sacred place for three major religions:  Judiasm, Christianity, and Islam.  I don’t think there is another city like it in the world.  I will be so bold as to call it a “religious mess”, making it a very interesting place.  I’ve heard the Muslim call to prayer in the Christian quarter and church bells in the Muslim quarter.  Just outside the muslim Temple Mount, Jews are praying at the Wailing Wall.  What’s more, The Church of Holy Sepulchre is shared between 6 different Christian denominations.  So, who holds the key to the place?  The answer perfectly describes Jerusalem:  A muslim family, which has opened and closed the church everyday for over 8 centuries.

The Wailing Wall.  You can write prayers/notes/whatever and stuff them in the cracks of the walls, hoping they will be heard.  I wasn’t feeling inspired and nothing worthy of such a place would come out of my pen.  Btw, if you are too busy to make it here in person, no problem, you can go to a website and they will take care of it for you.  Technology facilitating prayers, there you have it.

Here’s a good one:  You know the town of Bethlehem that is in all the Christmas carols?  The place where Jesus himself was said to be born?  Well, it turns out the place actually exists.  It’s in the Palestinian West Bank.  I went there.  I have seen the birthplace.  It wasn’t that big of a deal for me personally, but others who were visiting as part of a religious pilgrimage knelt, kissed the floor, and wept.  It was quite moving.

All of this religion aside, I also did a lot in Israel of what I do best:  having a good time.  My friend Erez, who I met in Asia almost two years ago, took me desert trekking.  It’s tough.  You have to deal with some things you don’t have, say, in Canada.  One, it is silly hot.  This, combined with the fact there are no lakes or rivers anywhere, leaves you carrying a LOT of water.  As you may know, water is damn heavy.  But, on the plus side, in the desert you don’t have to worry about a bear eating your food.  Pros and cons.

I never thought of myself as a desert guy. It can be miserable during the day (hot, dry, barren and the flies are so thick they can carry you away).  But, oh, at sunrise and sunset, the desert makes up for it all.  It’s true colours come shining through. I slept outside under the stars.

This was my first trek below sea level.  When was the last time you saw a map with elevations BELOW zero?

Israeli single track is quite good, with good flow and banked turns.  Who would have thought?  This trail goes right past 2,000 year-old ruins.  Even the mountain biking is historical here!

I want to say a big thanks to Erez and his family, who gave me the all-star treatment in Isreal.  I have never been so comfortable in somebody else’s home.  It got to the point where I was going to the kitchen to help myself to food, something my conscience has never allowed me to do in other places.  Such is the great hospitality here.

Speaking of food, my guidebood says that the best in the Middle East is always in people’s homes.  I found out this was true at the Horesh house, where the food was so good I did not have the self-control to stop eating, even long after I was full, right up to the point of causing myself pain.  I over-ate every meal.  It was a bit embarrassing, actually.  The crowing jewel of all this was a Thanksgiving feast.  Unfortunately, no pics, as I was too busy easting.

The usual post-country album is here.  I left Israel with great memories and a full belly.

The Dead Sea.  I’m reading with my feet up.  Try this move in your pool back home.  (pic from AL)

This is The Dead Sea (Jordan side).  It’s true, you really do float!  It’s awesome-weird!  I know it looks like I’m sitting on something, but I’m not.  The Dead Sea has a salt content of 31%, 9 times that of the ocean.  It makes you very buoyant!  The sensation is hard to explain, but I can say it is fun and strange all at the same time.

And it reduced me to giggling like a small child.  I couldn’t help it.  It was a little embarrassing until I saw (and heard) 2 Spanish men beside me suffering from the same affliction — it’s contagious.  What’s more, the Dead Sea puts everybody into “Take my picture!” mode.  Even me.  I could see the Spanish guys were in the same boat, as their wives were on rapid fire with their cameras.  Ha!

Last, but not least, I should note that the Dead Sea is the lowest point on earth (422m below sea level).  And now I’ve been there.  Another day, another “world’s -est” falls at the hands of yours truly…

As fun as the Dead Sea is, it is not the most popular attraction in Jordan.  That distinction goes to stunning Petra, the ruins of a 2000 year-old Nabatean city.  Trust the hype on this one, Petra delivers.  You have probably already seen Petra in a movie:  one of its most famous sights, “The Treasury,” was in Indian Jones and the Last  Crusade.  The facade is carved into the sandstone.

Then, just when you thought the Treasury was the finest sight in Petra, it serves you this, the Monastery:

Wait… there’s more!  In the town next to Petra is The Cave Bar, which is said to be the oldest bar in the world!  Over 2000 years!  Obviously, I had a beer there.

Then there is Wadi Rum, a bizarre but wonderful combination of sandy desert and rocky mountains.  I spent one night out there, catching the sunrise and sunset. 

Sand and mountains

Sunset at Wadi Rum.  Check out the camels slogging through the desert.

Jordan is definitely packed full of good stuff.  Great country.

I have a confession to make… I have a crush on Queen Rania of Jordan.  Is that inappropriate?  Nah, hopefully not.  You can do your own research, but I will tell you Queen Rania is doing lots of great things, in interesting ways, to try to make the world a better place.  Incidentally, I think she is one of the most beautiful women on the planet.  Oh, and apparently Her Majesty loves peanut butter :)  Too bad she is already married to a king, haha.

I have now spent more than 2 months in the Middle East and I have yet to introduce you to the Muslim “Call to prayer.”  Five times a day Muslims are called to pray by chants broadcasted everywhere over mosques’ PA systems.  Here is what it sounded like one night from my hotel room in Wadi Musa:

If you cannot go on with your life unless you have seen more Jordanian photos, I will help you out.  I’m good like that.

There is one phrase that I heard countless times in Jordan.  It seems that everybody there, no matter how little English they speak, can say it.  If I had a nickel for every time I heard it, I would be able to travel to the end of my days.  I’ll leave you with it:

“Welcome to Jordan”

The first time I tried to get into Syria was from Turkey.  I walked across the Turkish border then hitchiked through the no-man’s land to the Syrian immigration office.  I politely asked the officer for a visa into his fine country.  I waited for almost 2 hours before they shot me down.  No explanation.  Damn, rejected!  (It felt like when I’m trying to get a girl’s phone number at a bar.)  Was it because I’d been in Iraq the day before?  I will never know.  I got escorted back to the Turkish border by an armed immigration official, like some sort of fugitive.

But, I’m a persistent man.  I flew to Lebanon and tried to cross from there.  No problem.  They barely looked at my passport.  $56 dollars later, stamp, stamp, thank you, sir, and I’m into Syria!  Just like that.

For me, the highlight of this country is its capital, Damascus, arguably the oldest city on the planet.  It has a wonderful feeling to it.  It’s Old City is a labrynth of alleys, beautiful mosques and colourful souqs (markets).  Countless times I got lost wandering through the Old City (sometimes on purpose, sometimes not).  It is one of the world’s greatest places to wander.   The people in the Old City go about doing what they’ve been doing there forever.  The food is stellar here, too.  At my favourite food stall, I bought a felafel sandwhich and banana milkshake for $1.25.  Everyday.  That, my friends is value.  Oh, and don’t even get me started on my shwarma addiction.  To top it off, one can ind a shop to drink tea, smoke nargileh (aka, sheesha, a water pipe used to smoke tobacco), and watch the world go by.  You would love it, too.

A busy souq.  Note the bullet holes in the roof.

The only only issue I had with this city is that it can be tough to find a beer.  A couple of other Canadians and I had to go on a “search & find” mission one night, poking our head into restaurants in the Christian quarter to ask if they had any (they typically don’t list it on the menu, you see).

Other than this, Damascus rocks.  I thought I was quite the astute traveller for noticing its parcularities and its greatness.  But, after talking to scores of travellers during and after my time in Syria, it turns out that everybody loves Damascus.  I guess I’m not so special after all…

Syria has a very long and interesting history to it.  And, where there is an interesting history, there are often ruins.  At Palmyra, I got another Roman ruins fix.  If you are like me and enjoy Roman columns, you will love Palmyra.  Very “columns-y.”

Columns and camels

Maybe you like hill-top castles rising out of the desert?  Syria has you covered there, too.  Here is the Citadel at Palmyra.

If I was going to build a castle, that’s where I’d put it.  Right there.

Of course, Damascus is full of Mosques.  My favourite is the modern, Iranian-built Sayyida Ruqayya.  Most people notice it’s beauty and elaborate decorations.  I noticed that it has a retractable roof!  (That’s the kind of tourist I am.)  This must be the most high-tech mosque in the world!

It’s sunny today, why not open the roof up?

A while back I used to think that beer would bring the world together.  Because everybody loves beer, right?  Not so.  For example, there are whole legions of people don’t drink at all (it’s against their religion).

But I think I have found the thing that will unite the planet:  ice cream.  I was sitting in an old-fashioned ice cream parlor in Damascus.  Next to me was an old guy in full Muslim regalia:  robe, turban, etc.  I realized that we couldn’t be more different.  But, there we were, side by side, enjoying a common love:  ice cream.  It occurred to me that everybody loves ice cream.  I’m telling you, it will bring the world togther.

Do I know why they cover the ice cream in cashews?  No, I don’t.  But, do I love it?  Yes, yes I do.

I didn’t take a lot of pictures in Syria.  Maybe I was too busy eating felafel sandwiches.  But, here are a few more.

I’m actually in Cairo, Egypt right now.  Last night I went to the movie theatre for the first time in almost a year.  I love going to the movies, great fun.  This movie was in English with Arabic sub-titles.  So, what movie brought me out of my hiatus?  One that is not unrelated to what I’m up to these days: The Tourist.

Sometimes I really struggle for a title.  This is one of them.  Maybe it will come to me later and I can update this post before you read it :)

I know this blog is behind the times when I am writing about a country I visited a month ago.  In general this is fine, as I don’t have any deadlines ;)  But the issue is that I can’t remember all the things I saw, felt, heard, tasted, experienced, etc, in that country, because I have seen a lot of stuff since then.  The problems of a traveller…

But, I haven’t lost the photos, the common theme seems to be buildings.  Let me show you a few:

Downtown Beirut is gorgeous, perfect, and spotless (quite a novelty for this part of the world).  Maybe it does lack some character, but its stone buildings and wooden shutters look terrific to my eyes.  Imagine a whole downtown full of these.

Speaking of buildings, here is the finest I have seen in a long time.  The Mohammed al-Amin Mosque glows at night.  How stunning is that??  I couldn’t stop taking pictures of it.  I challenge you to not stare this picture.

Still on the topic of buildings, there are some in the Beirut that have seen better days.  This is the old Holiday Inn.  As the story goes, back in the day, it was exceptional:  new, upscale, classy.  Three weeks after opening, civil war broke out in the country.  Militants started using the hotel as a sniper perch.  Now the building, uh, has wholes where a building shouldn’t have holes, if you see what I mean.  It stands as a reminder of the country’s violent recent history.

How about some ancient buildings?  I visited the Roman ruins in Baalbek.  As you know, I’m not much of a “Roman ruin guy”, but I will tell you, I do love Roman columns.  They are impressive! (When I have a dwelling of some kind, I would love a few Roman columns.)

Here are the six remaining columns of the Temple of Jupiter.  It used to have 54!  Can you imagine that?!?  To give you a sense of scale, there is a fellow tourist (white shirt) near the bottom-right.  These pillars stand 19m high.  Wow.  Those Romans… they were nothing if not grand, no?

I feel like I’m on a roll with the buildings.  Here’s one more photo that really shows the nature of Beirut.  On the right, a beautiful colonial-style building.  Across the street, a war-torn one, full of bullet holes.  That’s how it goes here.  It’s the contrast that really gets me sometimes.

I have seen quite a few good beer slogans all over the world (such as the fountain of youth that is Spirulina Beer in Myanmar).  To my list, I have just added this one from Efes beer (which is actually Turkish).  I think it describes travellers perfectly:

A few other random thoughts about my Lebanese days:

– traffic in Beirut is a nightmare
– I really enjoyed the availability of beer in Beirut.  Unlike much of the rest of the Middle East, I don’t have too work to hard to find one.  In fact, in Beirut, you can party all night like a rock star.
– there are lots of well-dressed people and pimp cars.  There was a Ferrari dealership right near my hostel (I just window-shopped).

By now, you know what happens each time I leave a country.  You can find them here.

I will leave you with an inspirational note from a construction site.

Getting into Iraq is a lot easier than you might think.  I crossed the border from eastern Turkey into northern Iraq.  The whole thing was very smooth.  First stop on the Iraqi side was their pimp immigration office.  While waiting for our passports to be stamped, some new Iraqi friends and I relaxed in comfortable chairs, sipped tea and watched music videos on big screen TVs.  Not long after, stamp, stamp, I have a free (my favourite kind!) 10-day tourist visa.  This is a sweet start to one of the most infamous countries on the planet.

At this point it is time for a small conversation about Iraqi politics and geography.  The northern section of Iraq is called “Iraqi Kurdistan” and is semi-autonomous:  they have their own army, postal service, flag, government, etc.  It’s technically still Iraq, but it’s a little different from the rest of the country.  It’s sometimes referred to as “The Other Iraq.”  There is a violent history that has led to this separation.  It’s beyond the scope of this blog, but you can read all about it here.

Most importantly, Kurdistan issues their own visas to tourists like yours truly, which allowing visiting of Iraqi Kurdistan.  I couldn’t use it to go to Baghdad, so I can’t tell you what’s going on down there.

When they hear I have been to Iraq, most people eagerly ask, “What’s it like?”  Well, it’s notably… normal, for lack of a better word.  There are hotels, restaurants, shops, markets, malls and lots of construction.  Buildings are going up everywhere.  Kurdistan is a place just getting started.  There is not an oppressive amount of soldiers, guns, tanks, etc.  There were a few checkpoints on the highways in between cities where I would show my passport, then get waved through.  No problems.

The Kurdish people are very hospitable and friendly.  They loved to talk to me.  Sometimes I couldn’t get more than 10 metres down a street without somebody stopping me to chat and welcome me to their country.

As other travellers before me have observed, the Kurds are very honest about pricing.  Virtually no one tried to rip me off.  This is usually the sign of a place that has yet to see a lot of tourists.  Maybe this will change some day, or maybe the Kurdish character will keep it honest.  Time will tell.

The only complaint I have about the place is a lack of postcards :)  I looked everywhere, but I guess tourism hasn’t caught on enough to justify them yet.  But seriously, who doesn’t want to send their parents a postcard from Iraq??  I know I did.

Enough chit-chat.  Time for some pics:

For history buffs, Kurdistan is significant.  It is in a part of the planet that lays claim to the emergence of civilization thousands of years ago.

It’s good to be in the cradle, ya know?

A park in Erbil, with the citadel nicely lit in the background.  Lovely, no?  Did I mention this is Iraq?

Kurdistan is full of juice stands.  I love them.  In the name of research, I took it upon myself to try every flavour (the things I do for you guys!).  The winner?  Kiwi.

My country’s contribution to Iraq:  Canada Dry.  In Arabic.

I had the good fortune to meet and hang with a great bunch of expats that live in Kurdistan.  I think it takes a special type of person to move to Iraq to live and work.  They are interesting and fun people.  I even got invited to a killer Halloween party in Erbil.  Two years ago, if you told me I would be cutting a rug and drinking beer at a party in Iraq for Halloween 2010, I would have said you were nuts.  I may have personally taken you to get help.  But here it is.

Yours truly.  In party mode, in Iraq.  Good times.  That’s right, I’m wearing pyjamas… don’t worry about it.  (pic from Rachel U.)

I was thinking about the famous hierarchy of needs the other day.  If I recall, a few of the most important are food, water, shelter and more Iraqi pics.

I feel like it’s time for a public service announcement about travelling (with a short motivational speech slipped in for good measure):

I have this suspicion that some of you think that the travelling around the world I do is difficult.  Although I would love to give you the idea that I am a cool guy and you should be impressed, I need to tell you the truth:

Travelling is very easy.

You can do it.  Trust me.  It’s much easier than many of the other things you have already done in your life, such as school, work, parenting, etc, etc.  To be a traveller, there are no real qualifications at all.  There are no tests, no interviews, no credit checks.  Nothing.  You just need a little sense of adventure.  Then pack your bags and go.  Easy.  The world is waiting for you to come visit.

As the regular readers know, I’ve been to a lot of parties on my world tour.  But never an “Air Party.”  What the hell is that, anyway?  And what happens there?  Let me tell you:  It’s a festival for paragliders and parachtuters.  The sky gets dotted with brightly-coloured parachutes.  They put on a great show with all kinds of aerial acrobatics:  twirls, spirals, flips!  The music is pumping, there is a stage upon which a guy with a mic is doing play-by-play for the paragliders, and the beach is packed full of people.  Apparently the top 5 paragliders in the world were there, doing their thing.  They call it an “Air Party.”  Don’t mind if I do.

I had stumbled into the 2010 World Paragliding Festival.  By accident.  (The travel gods smiled on me yet again.)  I had one nice day without rain, so I decided to hit the beach at Oludeniz, Turkey.  Next thing you know, I’m in the thick of it.

What’s fun is to watch the paragliders trying to find a place to land.  They do it on the beach or boardwalk between the hordes of people.  99% of the time they stick it without problem, but I did see one woman clip the tops of a few umbrellas then land in a tangled mess amongst some cars.

Did I want to try this paragliding?  You’re darn right I did.  It was great.  Floating around up there is a treat.  The views are incredible — I would recommend it for the vistas alone.  I have been sky-diving and bungee-jumping before, so I thought this might be boring.  Instead, it was a lot more enjoyable.  And less scary.  It is relaxing and peaceful up there.  As crazy as it sounds, to be floating around 2000m in the air, I would call it downright pleasant.

The Turkish Mediterranean coast, as seen from 2,000m up while paragliding.  My fellow paragliders are in some kind of formation.  How about them views, eh?  Gorgeous.

A paraglider soars high over the Blue Lagoon

I liked this paragliding so much, I decided to put together another “How To” video on The Unique Art of World Travel:  on being a paragliding passenger.

Trust me, nothing could be easier.  The pilot does all the work.  But, I take nothing for granted, so here is a little video to show you how. Really, all you need is a little courage.  My only regret is that I didn’t film the landing. It was a bit hairy flying through town just a few metres above all the buildings, and then wondering where the hell the pilot was going to land this thing. I felt I needed to stick the landing, so I put the camera away. Bad call.

Oh, sorry about all the crotch shots in this video, that was accidental. Enjoy.

So, the 2010 Air Party rocked.  Yes, I bought the t-shirt.

Cappadocia, Turkey, has some very strange rock formations.  The are called “fairy chimneys,” and they look like they just fell out of the sky.  [Author’s note:  See how, in this description of the rocks, I alluded to the the paragliding above?  I’m not sure what that’s called, but it’s some kind of literary technique.  After 2 years of blogging, I’m finally getting the hang of this writing business.]  People used to live in them.  And they make for a stunning landscape.

A fairy chimney.  Back in the day, I believe this would be considered a pretty pimp pad, given the good views out the back deck.Amongst the strange rock formations lie beautiful green valleys, with grass, trees, and fields for farming.  (Very bizarre.)  I spent a great day walking these valleys.  In there, it’s fall right now.  The leaves are changing colours.

That’s a wrap for Turkey.  I spent 3 weeks there, but I missed quite a bit I wanted to see.  I could have spent another 2, easily.  In truth, I got slammed by rain a lot and that sort of pushed me out of the country.

Turkey was awesome.  I liked the food, the transportation (the buses have a TV for each passenger!), and some of the people I met.  Turkey is one of those countries where learning a little language goes a long way.

I heard that you have an illness, and the only antidote is more Turkish pics.  Consider yourself cured.

I had just met Joe the day before, a friend of a friend.  He was talking about the Turkish bath experience.  I had heard about Turkish baths and wanted to try one for myself.  An Istanbul resident, he took me to the one he goes to.  He gave the bath attendants some instructions in Turkish, and, just before leaving, gave me some last-minute advice: 

“Just let it happen.”

Huh.  This sounded ominous.  What exactly did I sign up for??

First, the attendant took me to a small change room.  I was given flip-flops. The room contained a few hooks for my clothes and a bed. I ditched my clothes and put on the cloth I was given.  I was then directed to a sauna. I sweated like a monkey for I don’t know how long.  So far, so good.

Then, a man, wearing only a cloth himself,  motions me into a marble room.  He speaks no English, but through hand signals and grunts he directs me to sit at one of the stalls.  This is where things get unusual for me.  He proceeds to pour hot water on me.  He then rubs me down with some kind of rough, leather mitt.

We then move to a marble slab.  I lie down.  He washes me and gives me a massage.  That’s right, imagine the scene:  Me, wearing only a cloth, being washed and massaged by a large Turkish man, also in only a cloth.  You see the situations I get into when I travel?

Actually, “massage” is putting it nicely.  He is actually beating me down.  All my muscles are stretched, every bone in my body is cracked.  It was brutal.  In some other context, like where I wasn’t a paying customer, some might say I was in a fight and losing badly.  But, in this case, it was awesome.   

After this, my muscles are jello.  I can barely walk.  I fisher-price my way back to my change room.  I realize then what the real purpose of this room is: to recover.  A recovery room, is what it is.  Physically beat, I lie down for a nap in the bed and reflect on the state I’m in.

Afterwards, another man comes into my recovery room and towels me off.  For the whole process I didn’t do anything for myself, except breath.  That was all I had to do.  The rest was taken care of for me.  The Turks are all about customer service. 

Later, I walked out of there… feeling like a million bucks!  This is the turkish bath experience.  You should try it.  You can feel like a million bucks, too.

Where it went down

A couple of highlights of Istanbul, the capital of Turkey, have been the impressive buildings and the food.

Aya Sofya, originally built by the Romans in 537.  That’s old!

Hello, tasty kebab

Chestnuts, roasting on an open fire…

I wanted to mention that, in travel, all kinds of weird things happen to me all the time.  95% never make it to this blog.  I just don’t have the time to write about all this stuff.  In “strange” parts of the world, strange things happen almost every day.  I wish I had a film crew following me around all the time — the things you would see…

As a quick example of something I wouldn’t nomally blog about, I got a haircut yesterday.  I gave the barber my now-standard “hand signals” description of how I wanted my haircut.  (Btw, for a fun exercise to the reader, next time you want a haircut, pretend you are mute and try to explain how you want your hair styled).  The cut went well.  He pointed to my ears and said something in Turkish.  I had no idea what he could be talking about.  Was there something in my ear?

He took out a metal wire with a cotton ball on the end and pointed to my ear again.  I shrugged.  Seriously, I don’t have the slightest.

Then, before I figure out what is happening, he sticks it in a jar of clear liquid, lights it on fire, and starts slapping my ear with it!  Holy shit!  What is going on?!?  I smelled something really bad.  Then I realize:  he is burning my ear hair.  He did the same to the upper parts of my cheeks.  I guess I had too much hair there, too.  It was odd and scary, but you should feel my ears now, they are as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

There you have it.  Yesterday I had my ear-hair burned.  Just another day in the life of a traveller…