Destination (Un)known.

To top off my travels in 2011 I headed to Germany and Austria for a weekend getaway with two girl friends of mine. Early Saturday morning, roughly 3 am, I woke up to catch the cab we'd ordered to the airport. Our flight left Ankara at 6:15 a.m. and arrived shortly thereafter in Munich. Although exhausted upon arrival we collected our goods and set off in search of our hotel. Unfortunately, it was quite a quest. It involved the metro, which came with its own perils thanks to a system which couldn't have been more illogical if it had been created by my sister while in Amsterdam, a bus, and then a short walk. On the journey I called my friend Jonathan who had agreed to meet up with us and even take us on a day trip. He had said he'd be at the hotel at 11 am, so I was intent on not keeping him waiting. I'm slightly obsessive with punctuality, as anyone who knows me can attest to. We arrived at 10.55, and the room was not ready. Jonathan came and Eilidh and I decided to leave with him as Amy said she didn't mind waiting until the room was ready, leaving our things and grabbing the key. She didn't want to take a day trip with us, as her intention for this trip was to shop at the Christmas markets. So, we set off leaving Amy behind in Munich and ventured off toward Neuschwanstein Castle.

The drive itself was really pretty, and we had wet snow along the way. We chatted and listened to a variety of music, including German rap, which I don't plan on ever listening to again by choice. Just as we were worrying that we'd be late for picking up our tickets the castle emerged from the fog of the mountain and we drove our way up to it. It was almost as though it were a beacon of light in the mist. We collected our tickets (for the tour) and debated whether to eat, walk up to the castle or take a bus. In the end we chose to walk, which was an excellent idea. The castle itself is interesting because it was built in the late 1800s by King Ludwig II, who happened to be quite an eccentric fellow. He had spent time at nearby Hohenschwangau castle growing up, which wasn't nearly as whimsical. Upon reaching the castle at the top of the hill, it instantly reminded me of Beauty and the Beast. Supposedly, this castle was the inspiration for Disney on a number of occasions - I can believe it. Once we entered, especially, I could see how Disney had taken from the castle. There was one room in particular, which was where concerts and performances were to be held, that had a backdrop behind the stage which looked exactly like a scene out of Bambi. It was uncanny. The roof in that room was gorgeous, because it was lined with wooden squares that were all engraved. It was gorgeous, but not overdone. The rest of the castle, however, was extreme and mostly in a tacky way. It was filled with fake gems, as he'd run out of money, and also an excessive amount of patterns and images that just didn't match. I'm no interior decorator, but clearly neither was he. One interesting point is that he had designed the castle to be based on Wagner's works, whom he admired greatly. All in all, the highlights of the interior of the castle for me were his bedroom, which wasn't too large but was filled with the most intricate wooden items and designs; as well as an indoor cave. He had actually had a cave built into his home! When I have my castle built there's no question that I'm also creating an indoor cave-like den, minus the bats of course. All he needed was a waterfall and talking rabbits and it really would have been complete. Instead of rabbits, he had a minor fixation with swans, which were hidden away subtly all over the place. Not my first pick of bird, but then again I'm not a 19th century, homosexual Bavarian king.

After finishing the castle tour I was hungry and tired to the point of not being able to concentrate or walk well, and the others were in a similar state so we found a nearby restaurant and set up camp. I had the most delicious salmon pizza - quite surprising, as I've never thought of those two as coming together, or as particularly German. I also had my first Gluhwein. The first of many... We sat, and chatted and really enjoyed having the opportunity to relax and also discuss the mysterious death of Ludwig. We looked around at the buildings a bit, which were absolutely adorable. Afterwards, we left for Austria. Since we were so close to the border, and Eilidh had lived in and loved Austria we thought it would be worth a visit. I was really pushing for it as I'd never been there before. We were worried about timing, because we didn't want to be away from Amy for so long, but all in all everything worked out fine. We took a really beautiful route to get there, and an even more spectacular route out (through the Alps). We visited a town called Reutt (I believe). It was small, and one of the highlights for me was that as soon as we left the car I saw a car with a Canadian sticker so I posed for a photo not realizing there was a man in the driver seat, and his brother-in-law came out of the bank as I was posing. He inquired into my actions, and I explained my desire to be close to my people. He smiled and backed off. Shortly thereafter we spotted the Kapadokya Supermarket. Clearly, we thought, they wouldn't have much Turkish food, it would just be a cup or two of ayran and maybe some halva. We continued on our way and went to a cafe. We sat, chatted and savoured the delicious cappucinos and Austrian desserts (amazing!). One of the highlights for me was when Eilidh (who speaks German) asked the girl working there for a dessert "bir tane cikolata mit Baileys". I started laughing and repeated her order, but Eilidh was unfazed as was the girl working there. I explained that typically Austrians don't speak Turkish to my knowledge, and as luck would have it, our server was Turkish/Austrian and had been unfazed because she understood it all. Afterwards, we took off and stopped in the supermarket just for the hell of it. As it happens, it was stocked with all Turkish food. It was unimaginable the amount of specialty goods they had there. I had a brief conversation with the employee in Turkish who told me there were thousands of Turks living in this tiny town. We then drove back to the city through the most gorgeous mountains, and beside a beautiful lake - there was a lot of precipitation but that was no problem for Jonathan who was a pro driver throughout the whole journey.

We headed back to the city and met Amy at the Christmas Markets. She had had a wonderful, full day of shopping. The only problem had been the rain, which meant that her shoes and socks were sopping wet. We immediately found a restaurant, where she was able to rest for a bit. Eilidh and I had the most delicious soup, with chestnuts and goat cheese. We all laughed and ate and basically couldn't believe that we were in Munich for a weekend. After dinner we went off in search of Gluhwein, but unfortunately the stalls had stopped serving it so we found an Australian bar where we each ordered a glass. It was, however, far too crowded for our liking and I didn't appreciate having someone bump into me and spill my drink, so we took off - Gluhwein mugs in tow (except Amy, whose morals may be slightly higher than ours)...
We then found another bar, where we sat at a long table and chatted. It turns out that the men across from us were Italian so we struck up conversation with them (Eilidh had also lived in Italy and speaks Italian). I attempted to speak and learn Italian, but it ended up coming out mostly as a childlike version of Spanish. Either way we communicated well enough to enjoy ourselves.

As luck would have it, that night was the last that it was legal to drink on public transportation in Munich so a ton of teenagers had decided to throw parties all over the metros. This resulted in the metros being shut down and police slowly coming in to monitor the state of things. I found it fairly entertaining, but it was getting late so we couldn't join in. We listened to the chanting and then headed out as the cops seemed to be getting increasingly angrier. We caught a cab, which took us to another metro stop (which we assumed would be working). The driver was, of course, of Turkish descent. He was young and rambunctious. He kept asking what we were up to that night, and where we had gone the night prior. He wanted to know all about our "disco mishko" experiences. We gave him nothing. After realizing that the next subway stop also wasn't functioning we caught another cab. This man wasn't nearly as pleased with us, as we had no address or directions to get back to the hotel. He drove to the area and basically we caught a break because we had caught the bus earlier and I vaguely remembered which street to turn down and then we spotted the hotel. All in all, it was quite a jam-packed 22 hours. To top off the hectic day and our arrival at our far-off hotel, I ended up semi-sleeping on a broken cot.

The next day, we started off with a delicious breakfast at the hotel. I particularly liked the cake. You can't go wrong with German pastries, that's for sure. I had enough gingerbread, chocolate and just general dough-related product that the next few days my stomach was not too pleased with me. After breakfast we collected our things and headed to the city. Walking around with a massive backpack all day wasn't the best idea, but there was no other choice really because the hotel was out of the way and we wanted as much time as possible in the Christmas markets. It turned out to be a funny blessing in a way, because I had borrowed Cynthia's backpack so there was an Acadian flag sewed on, and a woman noticed it and asked me about it. It sparked a conversation with a group of Canadians who live in Munich and own a Canadian cafe. It turns out there is Canadian cuisine, I suppose, just not in Canada. I was able to inquire into working situations in Munich and so on... Anyway, the markets were beautiful. They were lined with really pretty tree branches, and lights and everyone just looked incredibly happy to be there. The wine probably helped that. We arrived at the markets, grabbed Gluhwein and watched a little automated puppet show on the top of a church building. We had a great day together. We wandered, looked at different crafts, ate delicious cookies and took some funny photos. I had developed a habit the night before of asking Germans, "vo is die parti?" and other related phrases, but on Sunday I decided to be calm and just smile instead. I think my friends appreciated my calm demeanor. Eilidh, on the other hand, got into a bit of trouble with a Santa Claus for taking his photo but not realizing that she needed to pay. I had also taken a photo, but darted off to the side.

We had a great day, and then sadly had to head back to the airport for our return to reality. Jonathan came to meet Eilidh and I, as Amy was shopping when he had his break (from work - at the airport). We walked, drank more Gluhwein and then parted ways. Amy had a glitch with the technology at the self-check-in and then Eilidh had a problem with "bulky" luggage for some reason, but all problems were quickly solved and we headed to the gate. We flew without event and returned back to a very cold Ankara, Turkey. A month later I'm not entirely certain that weekend really happened... I think a repeat is in order, just to be sure.

In October I headed over to South Africa to visit my family for a number of reasons, most importantly my first cousin’s wedding as well as my 25th birthday. I don’t think any trip can compare to one that’s filled with family. We started off in Swellendam, which is about three hours away from Cape Town. It was appropriate that the wedding take place there as my grandparents had lived across the Pass in Barrydale for a fair amount of time. The mountains surrounding the towns are beautiful, and the baboons within, although at times obnoxious are quite exciting for someone like me who’s not used to wild animals aside from raccoons (if they count?).

Anyway, the wedding weekend was wonderful. We woke up on the Saturday morning and used maps to find our destination. Upon arrival, I downed some gravol (motion sickness tablets) because I realized that we were going to be taking small boats to yet another surprise location. When we got there, the wedding basically took place in a cove on rocks and it was full of singing, wind and a German preacher. In the evening, I indulged in Amarula and watched my cousin learning the subtleties of German culture from our new cousin’s cousin.
During my 9 day trip there were a few national events of import. For example, the All Blacks beating the French rugby team, which many of the South Africans celebrated. As well, Cape Town (quite possibly the most beautiful city in the world) won World Design Capital for 2014. From what my cousin explained this basically means that the most creative people from all over the world will be in charge of ameliorating the city in creative ways, from transportation to social design.

On a more personal note, with my immediate family we spent time doing things like visiting the Pinelands cemetery where my grandfather, and great-grandparents are buried. Cemeteries are bizarre really. When we visited this cemetery it almost felt like we were joining a tea party, as strange as that sounds. Walking through the cemetery we pointed out the names of people my grandparents had been friendly with. It was literally like a walk down memory lane, which was appropriate considering the recent death of my grandmother. It was like a way to re-visit her too.

Due to the excessive amount of food I ate, including rusks, boerewors, and biltong some physical activity was definitely necessary. To counter the food intake I hiked a few times, including the Helderberg and Lion’s Head. I would particularly recommend the latter, as the view is stunning. You can see Clifton Beach, the Waterfront, and obviously Table Mountain. My cousin, Sean, showed me an area at the top where it’s almost like stepping stones to a little perch where you can theoretically just reflect and look out over the city. High up above everyone and not too far from the clouds, it was the perfect end to my trip.

Some of the more touristy things that we did along the way involved a trip to the Natural Museum of South African History, which had a wonderful exhibit on various African cultures including signs that pointed out the fallacy of some of the captions. I thought this was a brave step, as parts of the exhibit were indeed outdated. One of the more interesting and modern exhibits was all about cave paintings. It had information and interviews, as well as pictures. It spoke of transcendental experiences and ceremonies centered on devotion to animals. As well, I did some shopping, which was, of course, necessary considering that I can’t find shoes in my size in Turkey. Apparently, Turkish women either have small feet, or know how to hide all the well-stocked shoe stores.

Briefly, I just want to describe my birthday and then I’ll jump over to Greece and England. The night before my birthday Sara and I slept at Candice’s house near The University of Cape Town (UCT). We spent the night chatting, gossiping and watching the most memorable movie ever “The Hollow”. It amounted to a soft-core porn cum Disney flick. The next morning we spent wandering The Waterfront including the hospital where I was born, and then visited the aquarium where I learned all about an interesting project involving witch doctors and superstitions in a campaign to protect marine wildlife. I thought it was creative and efficient because apparently people are responding to this method. After our visit, we went back to Candice’s house where Sean fairly shortly after picked us up and took us on a drive around Hout Bay. All along the ride, Sean gave me a fascinating commentary about the townships that he’d visited as well as more information on his road trip to Zimbabwe. I hear horror stories on the news, but it sounded like for a visitor the risks may have been exaggerated. He told me a few rules, in case I ever decide to follow suit. I think most importantly of course don’t try to argue with police and let people take their time, whether it be in conversation or transaction. A lot of what he was saying reminded me of my life in Turkey. I’m so used to constantly rushing in Toronto that it’s taken me a while to become used to the concept of accepting an invitation to drink tea. I think it’s been a change for the good though.
Anyway, to get back to my birthday, we went to Sean’s, ate and chatted and then headed off to see Kings of Leon at Greenpoint Stadium. It was probably the most amazing way I could have turned 25. A crowd of some 40 000 odd people all screaming and cheering and jumping and waving, while my sister hitchhiked around on some old man’s back and I explained to a naïve South African that in Canada we can’t see stars because the sky is too dark, so this was my first time really seeing them. The beer probably enhanced the oddness o f our post-concert shenanigans because I ended up convincing Sean’s friend Lee that we absolutely needed a pylon. Due to it being my birthday, I would expect nothing less but full cooperation from him, and he agreed. We ran up and down the street with it and then the next morning the first thing I saw when I looked in the mirror was, naturally, a massive black smudge from where I had worn the pylon on my head. My way of ushering in 25, aided by family and friends, and not feeling a day over 15 (in the best possible way).

I couldn’t possibly have anticipated a better trip. I was able to spend time with my parents and sister who I hadn’t seen in a few months, and also see all of my cousins. In Swellendam I saw my Uncle and Aunt and then in Cape Town we spent most days with my other Uncle; I was really fortunate. We all bonded over my dad’s insanity and the gorgeous views that Erinvale had to offer. We also saw family friends who I hadn’t seen in ages. I find it funny every time I go back to Cape Town, because it’s almost like a snapshot. Each time I go it’s about 4 years apart, and we’re all at a different stage in our lives. Last time I was a University student and this time a teacher. Last time my cousin was a high school student and now she’s in University. The presents I received were telling: Sean gave me “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance” and Candice gave me “Die Antwoord” CD, while Sara treated me to a luxury day of chicken pot pies, beer and Kings of Leon. It sounds over-the-top, but it was just really nice being able to actually spend time doing nothing with them.

As for my trip to England and Greece, it wasn’t nearly as relaxing. In South Africa my parents took care of logistics, or my cousins took the reins. Upon arrival in Greece I had no voice as the two buses it took to get me there had been crowded with sick people, and the border crossing had involved what felt like an hour long waiting period in the freezing cold at 3 a.m. The bus company employee felt so bad for my pathetic, shivering self that he gave me his jacket. Thessaloniki at first glance was dirty and un-enticing. Cynthia, Brian and I went for some breakfast and in the process took in the lonely streets. We couldn’t believe how empty it was, and how hard hit their economy seemed to be considering the number of shops for sale – dirty and empty. They left for Italy, and I went in search of my hostel. I took a Greek bus, which I didn’t pay for, probably because I’m a bit too used to playing the stupid foreigner card at this point and didn’t want to try to figure out how to do it. I’m almost ashamed of how often I get away with things I shouldn’t, and how easy it’s starting to become for me to fall into the trap of doing it. It’s an addiction I’m going to have to kick sooner rather than later, because it won’t work back in Canada. In any case, I followed instructions and ended up lost and hailing a cab. The taxi driver had a horrible attitude, and drove me in circles. I requested that he stop, and I got out, at which point he tried to charge me about 5 Euros for a 5 minute drive and I refused. I offered 2.50 and he started screaming, so I gave him what I had and walked away hoping to avoid a scene. In the confusion I ran into a British girl and her Greek friend, who then promptly walked me back to her place and woke up her friend (on the phone) to tell him to google my hostel and then tell us exactly how to get there. They then walked me directly to my hostel and went off on their way. Once I was settled, I felt much better. I ventured off to visit the old city walls, and also the downtown core. Along the way I picked up a German friend named Jonathan. We visited The Rotunda, Hagia Sofia, as well as Ataturk’s House (his hometown of sorts). I think the last visit was the most entertaining for the sheer number of Turks everywhere. I felt like I was speaking more Turkish than I do in Turkey. The reason being that Kurban Bayrami was in full swing, so Greece was a close and interesting destination – we all had the same idea, clearly.

While exploring the city, including the waterfront I realized that I was quickly becoming enamored of it. The White Castle and all the restaurants along the water were somehow enchanting even though the grey skies only cleared at sunset. Our timing was strategic, as we were able to buy tickets for the Thessaloniki International Film Festival. That night we saw “Michael” – a film about a German paedophile. Before the film we went to dinner at an excellent Argentinian restaurant. As it happens, Jonathan’s father writes guide books in German for Greece, so he was definitely in-the-know about where to go. The next day involved more wandering, as well as more introductions to Turks – who happened to randomly spring up in my hostel room overnight. I was still feeling sick the next day, but I decided to go exploring the city more and we saw another movie. This time it was Lebanese, and kind of functioned as an advertisement for me to visit (in my mind at least). It was called “Ok. Enough. Goodbye”. It basically showed the life of a middle-aged man and his mother’s quest to make him independent, which involved her moving to a different city while he was at work. I’m not sure which strategy is best; leaving home after high school or waiting until marriage (if that comes). I’m pretty sure that were I to move back home for good with my parents it would be difficult for us to manage; however, that could be attributed to my having lived apart from them for a while. Nearing the end, I had some interesting conversations with fellow hostel-dwellers and the owners. They taught me a lot about Greek society, and also an interesting fringe area called Athos where monks rule and women aren’t even permitted to cross the border. That night I went to a bar to wait for the bus to take me to the airport. I got so distracted by my conversation with the bartender that I not only missed the bus once, but twice. I ended up there in time to catch my flight though, which matters most.

Leaving Greece I headed to England, where I stayed the first night in a B & B near Stansted airport. It was incredibly relaxing. I had a gorgeous room to myself, and I basically just arrived, slept and then ate a delicious breakfast. The next morning I headed off to London, where I left my bags and set off in search of culture. I visited the British National Museum, the Tate Modern, Hyde Park, Buckingham Palace, Green Park, and London Bridge. I had an excellent time wandering, but by the end of the day I was exhausted and tired of being alone. What stood out to me the most that day was a photo exhibit by Taryn Simon. It documented the lives of a lot of really unusual people in different countries around the world, including Indian men who had been declared dead by their families (who wanted to acquire their land) and a Palestinian woman who had been a terrorist.

That night I attempted to call my friend, with whom I was supposed to stay, and who I couldn’t reach. It turns out she had given me the wrong number, hence the confusion. In any case, I arrived at her dorm in Camden Town in search of her, but without her room number. I was let in and spent about 2 hours trying to contact her by phone and facebook – to no avail. Fortunately, another friend was on facebook and agreed to let me stay the night. To all those facebook naysayers, clearly it serves a purpose. I ended up in West Kensington. We chatted and reminisced about times in Mexico 3 years prior, while her poor roommate packed up and went to stay at a friend’s. As it happens she lives in a 3-bedroom apartment, but her third roommate had subletted to someone and then arrived back earlier than expected, meaning that the apartment was already crowded and my arrival meant someone had to temporarily step out. In any case, I slept well and woke up refreshed; happy that I wasn’t in a 10-person dorm but rather a cozier, more comforting environment. That morning Erika walked me to a nearby coffee shop where I ended up having a long chat with the owner and a record producer, while waiting to see if I would get in touch with my friend before my daytrip to Evesham. I think one of the most insightful things I heard on my whole trip came out that morning when the owner told me that travelling alone is the best way to set personal boundaries and also test one’s own limits. England did just that. I tried calling my friend again, which didn’t work because the number was wrong, so I headed off on my trip with all my baggage in tow, including broken boots on my feet (the heels had started falling off while in Greece). I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt like such an aimless wanderer.

My train ride to Evesham was beautiful. The countryside was really green and I saw cows, and rivers; I expected a zombie to jump out at any point. I shared the ride with two ad execs and an Estonian rapper: interesting, to say the least. The town itself was quaint, and I thought it appropriate to have some proper local food so I ordered fish and chips. It was alright; I think the novelty made it worthwhile. That night I returned back to my friend’s dorm and went in search of her by knocking on doors. I found her and we dropped my bags and headed to a bar nearby to reminisce on last year in Turkey and the lives we’re now leading. She’s pursuing her Masters in London, and it seems to be exactly the path for her. It’s funny how context can change things. She seems much happier and at ease, both because she’s in England and because she’s found a career that really interests her. Her dorm is right near a few very interesting neighbourhoods including Soho and Kentish Town. It made me think back to Thessaloniki and how much I had appreciated the vibe there that the plethora of graffiti created.

The following days in London were filled with visits with friends. It really made me nostalgic. I met with Maddy who I’d met in Toronto and who’s now also teaching. We talked about our experiences living with Spanish host families; the trials and tribulations of trying to understand what’s acceptable and what’s expected. Strangely enough the restaurant we ate at was Turkish. I had chosen it not knowing, perhaps it’s fate, or perhaps I’m programmed – maybe a touch of both. Before meeting Maddy I had ventured around Leicester Square and Westminster Abbey, and also gone to lunch with Erika before seeing a play. I was fortunate enough to be bumped up to seventh row at “Priscilla Queen of the Desert”, which may have been the strangest thing I’ve ever seen live – excluding a mock S & M play in Winnipeg when I was 18. The play’s costumes were basically like the brain of a kindergarten kid on acid; there were men dressed as cupcakes and others like flamingos. The dialogue was witty, and the music was pop. One of the highlights for me was when I noticed that all of the other attendees were over 50, and when the time came a bunch of them went up on stage and joined in the festivities. It was encouraging considering that I’d just turned 25. I now have a plan for 50 – get on stage with drag queens and do a hoedown.

Remembrance Day came and went and I left to go back to Greece. The day before I’d seen a ceremony of sorts at Westminster Abbey, which I found appropriate because my grandmother had volunteered there. I spoke with one of her cousins in fact (or my mother’s), and I found it pretty inspiring. I have a huge number of extended family in England, but I don’t know them at all. I think my mission for my next trip to England will involve getting to know who these relatives are, and learning more about the life my grandmother led. Right before catching my flight I went for breakfast with my friend Mehmet, who I’d met in Turkey. It was funny seeing him because it felt like we could have been anywhere: two friends sitting in a café and chatting. It was wonderful seeing him, but from a selfish perspective I almost wished he was still in Turkey so that it didn’t require a 5 hour flight to have a casual conversation. He had been there all along my Turkish-language discovery journey. He’s also pursuing a Masters in England. Hopefully that’ll be me soon enough, minus the England part.

My last days in Thessaloniki involved more wandering and very little sleep, probably due to the sickness I was still getting over and partially due to my Greek roommate. He came back to the dorm at about 4 am, very surprised to see me (I had only arrived after 11 pm). He mumbled some Greek to me, which clearly I didn’t understand and I told him to turn off the light and go to his area – he followed my orders. As it happens, he was in the army. At 6 am once again he woke me up because he and his friend were heading off to work. They came back later, and we introduced ourselves. He ended up volunteering to accompany me around the city, so off we headed to the Archaeology and the Byzantine Museums. He told me about his life in the army, and what it was like growing up in Athens. More importantly, he joked around constantly, which I really appreciated. I’m not sure what it was about Greece, but I felt like they got my sense of humor and I got theirs. It was comfortable having to be on my toes. The most fascinating thing at the museums was an exhibition about the Jews of Thessaloniki, wherein I learned about the community and its responsibilities before WWII. There was also some discussion about how the community was organized, including the cemetery. Afterwards, we went for some Greek food and then I took off for my last movie “Fleurs du Mal”. It took place in France, but one of the characters was Iranian and had been sent there by her parents to avoid any injury during the protests. Once again, it made me want to travel there. It made me think back to some of my friends from high school, and also some of the students I taught – people who told me stories about their friends being beaten at pro-democracy rallies.

My travels around in the past month have involved family, friends and a large number of acquaintances. I’ve heard really interesting stories and also realized that I don’t want my purpose in travel to be fleeing problems, but rather discovering my capacities and learning about others. I like having to figure out plans and overcome obstacles, especially when they involve end-goals like moussaka and drag-queens. Next step: Lebanon and Jordan, or Prague and Vienna?

Turkey- one week, then another. I spent this past weekend, for the first time, staying with a Turkish family. I've been living in Turkey for a year now but not once did I have the opportunity to actually spend time in a familial situation. I'm fortunate enough to have a very close friend here, who invited me to her hometown to attend a traditional wedding ceremony, and also meet her family in the process. Although there were differences in terms of how life is lived, I think the most important thing is just to be open. Instead of needing to eat at a certain time, or only wanting to discuss certain topics, it's important to see how others live and try to blend in with it in order to really experience as much as possible in the short time available to do so. Family is really important here, and particularly in Bolu, the city I went to, neighbourhoods are close - everyone knows everyone. I think this can lead to a certain amount of pressure, but on the flipside you're surrounded by a pretty substantial group of people who love you and would do anything for you.

Saturday we discovered the city, but there wasn't really much to be seen. The highlight was an old hamam (Turkish baths), that's been turned into a cafe and shoe store - it was beautiful, and one of the most serene places I've ever sat in. The main reason to visit Bolu are its natural surroundings. Sunday we took a day trip to Abant, which is a lake nearby, where one can fish and stroll. Picnics are extremely popular here, so the parking lots are packed with vans full of people coming out for a nice Sunday meal with family and friends. It's become extremely popular with Iranian tourists, so while walking we saw many women wearing the niqab. One of the girls I was with was quite uncomfortable with this; she said she hates not being able to see faces, it makes her feel like there's something missing. It's not very common in Turkey either, so that's probably why it strikes her. As we left, we decided to stop by another small lake area nearby called Gülköy. We were able to spot sünnet celebrations, and even walk up and watch. The child receiving the circumcision is like a star, he wears a cape and carries around a sceptre. The family hires dancers, and musicians and (of course) there is a lot of dancing! What surprised me about this is that it's not a baby, but rather a 7 or perhaps a 10 year old boy. To me, age alters the arguments about circumcision. I had always thought it was only performed on babies, but in some way it being a child instead changes my opinion of it... Rather than going off on a tangent, I'll get back to my travels.

The best part of my weekend was, of course, the düğün (wedding) I attended. It was full of people, all seated around these incredibly long tables in the hall. The bridge and groom sit at the front in the centre, and each has their respective side full of family. The ceremony starts when they walk in and start dancing, then joined by everyone else. We danced cezayir style, which apparently is very popular in the Black Sea Region. After a while the dancing stops, and it's time for gifts to be given - either money or gold coins. The bridge and groom stand at the front, while people line up to pin their coins or money onto their sashes. The whole time announcements are made about who's given what. After this incredibly long process the cake is cut, and dancing resumes. There was no meal served, and no party favours given - the focus instead is on dancing. Another interesting difference is that for the most part the men dance with men, and women with women. In addition, the people dancing are usually only those close with the bride and groom, distant acquaintances don't dance because people might talk. Although I'm sure many weddings are this way, my friend made it a point to mention that this is a more traditional wedding for two people from fairly humble backgrounds so if I were to attend a student's wedding here at the University in Ankara it would probably be quite different. Instead of traditional music for example, there would probably be a lot of pop played. I'm so grateful I was able to participate in this one. I danced my heart out. I think I surprised quite a few people. Another interesting observation for me was that alcohol was not served, and that for the first time I saw a bride wearing a hijab - this was the first Muslim wedding I've ever attended.

The next day, while leaving, I mentioned to my friend's mother the travels I'd done in the past two months and she mistakenly thought I was talking about where I'd been since childhood. This is when I realized it's time for me to sit down and write an entry. This is going to be a long process, but I'll try to give a summary of my recent voyages because the purposes have truly been varied.

North America - my home, and more-or-less native land. I went back to Toronto, Canada for the first time after moving to Turkey 10 months prior. I saw things differently, which surprised me. I hadn't expected people to be as friendly as they were, or as fit for that matter. I think being away for 10 months and listening to others' opinions and stereotypes had somehow caused my memory to reform itself. It was between 30 and 40 degrees for a good portion of my time there, which created a barrier between me and the activities I wanted to partake in, i.e. bike riding. I did, however, manage to take advantage of the culture Toronto has to offer. I went to a number of plays, including a Shakespearean one at Stratford, and a fringe festival one. I also went to the Harbourfront and various locations - I tried to play it like a tourist and really exploit the city for all its worth. There are so many amazing neighbourhoods that I seldom go to, like Roncesvalles, Distillery District or the Beaches for example. My time was mostly devoted to seeing friends and family, attending themed parties and basically just having fun. One of the best nights was right before I left when I went to Kensington Market with friends, to a bar called The Boat where we danced to music through all decades starting from the 40s. Time machine gibi.

During my time at home, I took a quick trip to Chicago, U.S.A. with my mother and sister in order to visit my family who live there. Once again I was surprised at just how friendly everyone was - from shop attendants to people on the street. I did a bit of a walking tour with a friend who I met up with there; we visited Millenium Park, and the new statue of Marilyn Monroe, which for some reason has everyone talking - is it an eyesore, or an aesthetic pleasure for the streets? Personally, I think it's an easy way to make tourists feel that they've seen yet another cool sight, that simple. I also went to the zoo there for the first time, which is free, and quite well-maintained it seemed. Zoos are always slightly depressing though, but moreso because there were no orangutans, who, after my time collecting data on last summer at the Toronto zoo, I've grown an affinity for. The most fulfilling time was spent with my family of course, but I also enjoyed the Art Institute of Chicago where I was able to see a really impressive Impressionist Gallery. This was in contrast to the also amazing Art Gallery of Ontario, where I saw an exhibit on Abstract Expressionism - maybe a third of which I understood something from. Unfortunately most of the time black squares don't cause ecstatic responses from deep within me...

All in all, I was able to actually have a vacation at home, which I'm privileged for - it's not that often someone can play tourist in their own city, although maybe that's all people need to appreciate it a little more?

Germany and Poland - learning. I went to Germany and Poland once again to take part in the Learning From the Past Teaching for the Future Program (TFTF). This was quite a different trip than last time. In my previous trips to Poland and Germany I spent almost every day at a site associated with the Holocaust, for example Treblinka or Ravensbruck, but this time while in Poland we stayed in Poznan and were on the Adam Mickiewicz University campus all throughout the day. I enjoyed Poland a lot more this time, since I was able to see it so much in its contemporary form. Of course what I gained the most from was discussions with other participants. Life is all about stories, and in this way other thoughts are triggered within you, I think. For example, I spent a lot of time talking with a Polish participant who's doing his M.A. at the aforementioned University. We discussed a situation I hadn't given much thought to before: the repercussions that women had to deal with after the war, in terms of the sexual abuse they quite often faced (in a number of countries, in fact). After being raped and (for some) becoming pregnant, the woman is often regarded in some way not as a victim but as a perpetrator of some heinous act - she's brought shame to her family. This attitude still exists. There are biases, which haven't disappeared.

Poland is a country in which you are very much aware of the past, but it's not as in-your-face as in certain cities in Germany like Berlinfor example. In Poznan there is a former Synagogue, which has been converted into a swimming pool, and all you see is a small plaque on the wall - you would never know otherwise; whereas in Berlin sometimes it feels like everywhere you walk you're being explicitly reminded of what happened, whether it's through the stumbling stones on the ground, the signs or the heavily protected Synagogues. What's fascinating is how both countries are dealing with the legacy of the past in different ways, particularly through their museums and education systems - Poland is definitely not as developed as Germany in this sense. One problem I noticed in Germany though is that through its sincere, and omnipresent reminders of its past (and simultaneous apologeticness for it) one wonders about the present minority groups, for example the Turks. I spent some time, once again in Kreuzberg where I noticed even moreso the number of Turkish speakers who reside there. When they face discrimination (quite possibly) on a regular basis, and have a very rich cultural history which may not be appreciated in their "new" homeland, how does this make them feel? I spoke with one friend about this, himself a recent immigrant to Germany. He sees the tension, without question, but at the same time it probably just requires some minimal reforms. He, himself, likes his life in Berlin, because he's left to his own devices. He lives with another immigrant to the country, and they admitted that they have hardly any German friends, but that they're not resentful rather it's just the way things have happened. C'est la vie. I found myself falling in love with Berlin, even moreso this time than the last. Although in Poland I look like I fit in more, physical appearance is meaningless when you can't understand what's happening around you - even though many people speak English, I'd feel embarassed taking so long to learn the language. Even this weekend, I tried to speak Turkish the whole time, because while speaking English I realize I just don't want to. If I'm not in an English speaking environment I'd rather not speak it for some reason - perhaps I don't want to draw attention to myself, or maybe I just really want to test myself as much as possible.

This entry is becoming a stew.

Turkey - reality. After Germany I flew back to Turkey. I was coming home, and I felt relaxed but uneasy all at once. I'm here for another year. Another year without my comfortable Canadian environs. I was lucky this time because the time difference didn't exist, which meant I was basically able to sleep from the start; however, I was exhausted from already 4 weeks of travel and especially the last part (Germany and Poland), since we were attending workshops daily and going out at night. I missed my friends already as well. The amount of reflection and discussion a trip like the Germany/Poland one allows for is exceptional - everything you hear, you're free to critique or ask about, or admire - it's like a no-holds-barred academic and emotional environment, particularly with some of my closer friends. We reflect to death about everything.

So, uneasy in the sense of missing the lives I've just lived this summer, but fortunate because I know Ankara. I know my place here now to a certain extent. Most importantly I was coming back with friends, knowledge and some language skills. I left my computer charger in Poland, so I had to work my way around that here, but I had the help of really wonderful friends as well as my ability this year to express myself (as limited as it may be) in Turkish. Last year I would have cried, this year I was able to laugh and go out for dinner instead to my favourite restaurant. It being Ramazan when I got here, I was able to participate in Iftar celebrations twice: once with a Turkish friend in a very traditional neighbourhood here called Hamamönü and once with two Canadian friends at a favourite restaurant on Tunali st. where the manager remembered me and invited us to a free gourmet buffet meal. Turkish people are nothing if not generous. I really am happy to be back here in so many ways. There's a life that I've built here, which I know will be coming to an end, but while I'm still here this year I want to really take advantage of all the opportunities available. I have plans for the future, although who knows how things could change...

Another thing that surprised me this summer and then coming back here was some of the bias that people have toward Turkey. There were people who were shocked that I was coming back, they couldn't understand what would bring me back here, and couldn't believe when I described how safe I typically feel here. There's a portion from a lecture I listened to today, which I feel is appropriate here - it's by William Ury. "Today we face the scourge of terrorism. What is terrorism? Terrorism is basically taking an innocent stranger and treating them as an enemy whom you kill in order to create fear. What's the opposite of terrorism? It's taking an innocent stranger and treating them as a friend whom you welcome into your home in order to sow and and create understanding, or respect, or love." I can't explain the amount of warmth I've received from people here, taking me in and treating me well, not to receive anything from it but just out of the kindness of their hearts. The lecture was apt for this entry, as it's about conflict resolution and focuses primarily on the Middle East (http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/william_ury.html). It's undeniable that there's conflict here, even since coming back to Turkey I've become more aware of the increasing problems with the Israeli government, the PKK and so on; however, that doesn't mean that daily lives have changed drastically in Ankara. Whether that's a good thing or not I'm not sure. Today for example, speaking with a coworker, she mentioned that it's animalistic almost to be watching TV, see that 13 soldiers have been killed in the East and then to go eat dinner - how can it be so normalized? It's a valid question. Turkey is like this - it's divided in so many ways: East and West, rich and poor, religious and secular and so on... This year I feel like I'm almost obligated to look more into some of these issues, not just watch movies but try to do some more research about these subjects and the relationships that exist (as tenuous as they may sometimes be). I'm reading a book right now called "The Help", and in the book as in the lecture as in all travels it's so clear, we have 10 fingers, 10 toes, we feel pain, laugh and experience life in similar ways as different as we may feel at times. Ah humanity!

Croatia and Montenegro - After my return to Turkey for one week, we had Şeker Bayramı one week holiday, so I was off again. Kate had already left on Thursday night, but I chose to wait: visiting Istanbul instead and then flying off to Zagreb, where I arrived on Sunday night. I travelled with two other friends there, so that was good company, but upon arrival we split up to find our respective hostels. The first people I met were two very unimpressed Spaniards who complained to me about the lack of running water, the lack of hospitality and basically the lack of anything which they would typically associate with vacation time. Seasoned travels they were not. With travel comes many realizations, including the understanding that often (if not usually) things won't go your way and it's fine to complain, but it's not really fair to blacklist a whole place and a vacation before it's even started because of this. That being said, I found my hostel with ease, and even had free use of public transport because I just frankly didn't know what to do in order to buy a ticket - Croatian is not easy to suddenly decipher without previous knowledge. Funnily enough throughout my travels in Croatia and Montenegro I ended up using a few languages, which I don't really know at all - I would construct a sentence with a third Polish, a third Italian and a third English for example and then respond with charasho or dobra. What made matters worse is that often people assumed I was Croatian because of my appearance, so I just felt slightly silly not being able to respond even though obviously I would never have been able to or should have been able to. I was able to empathize better with Cynthia who is often mistaken for Turkish until she opens her mouth, at which point people just become confused. Anyway, Zagreb itself, to be honest, is nice and quite small with some very Soviet looking architecture particularly near the train station, but it didn't feel special to me. Croatia, to me, was about the coast. The best part of Zagreb was sitting around with friends, and other travellers and drinking Ožujsko Limun, one of the most delicious beers I've ever had. We sat, and we chatted and I got sassed by multiple Croatians. The people there I found remarkably unfriendly and quite often downright rude. It was actually quite comical. For example, at this "breery" (my version of a brewery) we went to, I decided to order milk with honey for some reason. On the menu it was described as hot, but when it arrived it was cold. I gave it a stare down and the angry waiter basically spat out at me, "do you have a problem?". I frantically shook my head. I later went on a quest for a spoon, because he wasn't bringing one. I was directed repeatedly to the washroom, when I finally achieved my goal of obtaining a spoon I returned to the table to find the angry waiter there, spoon in hand. I also managed to somehow get accidentally forced into stealing a beer glass from a bar - a linguistic misunderstanding, which I didn't want to make any worse, so I hid it and left. In Germany my crime was stealing a loaf of bread from a bar, Croatia it's glass... I can't help but wonder what's next?

Kate and I managed to travel to a variety of places on our Croatian and Montenegran voyage, including Plitvice natural park area, which was far too crowded for my liking and a party island called Hvar. We spent two nights in Split, which were quite relaxing. We went to the main square both times and listened to live music (in English). We also saw traditional Croatian dancing, and met some other pairs of tourists. In Split, we went to the Synagogue, where we met a really dedicated volunteer who taught us all about the Jewish community in Croatia before and after WWII. He talked about how there were roughly 41 Synagogues before, but at present there are 3 - also, the need for a community to come together regardless of Orthodox or reform leanings. It was pure, because his desire came from a good source: he just wanted traditions to continue, and most importantly he truly wanted to learn about how Jewish life was before the Nazis' attempt to destroy it. He said that, at present, they work closely with the Muslim community in Split because they relate to each other. He also said that the Catholic school brings children to visit the Synagogue on class trips, and that they are seemingly free of many of the biases that existed when he was a youth (he was in his 50s or 60s I would estimate). We also visited the Jewish cemetery in Split, which was appropriate because it was on the day of my grandmother's funeral, which was taking place in Australia - clearly I couldn't be there, but it was hard nonetheless, and maybe even moreso for it... There's a sense of confusion I always feel when I visit Jewish sites, particularly ones that have in some way been affected by the Holocaust. I can't explain, but my identity is always in question.

Hvar was our next stop, and it was gorgeous. The whole trip, apart from Zagreb, was hot. For Kate this was difficult as she's not one for the heat, she turns red and gets extremely uncomfortable; however, we tried to use it to our advantage. For example, we ate ice cream on a daily basis, and swam at the beaches we found. Our accommodation turned out to basically be a luxury suite for 4 people because the owner upgraded us free of charge. The view was spectacular, and we were in between a bigger, nicer (more local friendly) beach and the city centre - walking distance to everything. We explored during the day, and once again ran into our other traveller buddies - the Texans and the Irish. It seems that there's a pretty clear route that a lot of people follow. We climbed up to an old fortress and soaked up the view. Looking down on the city, with its innumerable alleys, beautiful rocks and harbour it just makes you feel full, being there and breathing in clean air. The beach was wonderful too, because there was shade, and the water was so refreshing. I spent my time there talking with the owner (who's about 27 yrs.) of our lodgings, who happened to be spending the evening at the beach too. I asked him about a lot of things, dating, the war, Croatian food etc. Although Hvar wasn't destroyed, it was still affected in various ways in the early 90s and he said Croatia still has some remnants of the war to contend with. That night we went out, the three of us, and discovered (more like, he guided us) into the crazy ways of Croatian nightlife. Alcohol is basically thrown at you from all sides, and the parties spill out from the bars into the alleys. There are boats that will take you to islands where the entire area is covered by one massive club, with swimming pools and all. It's a different world.

One hour of sleep, and a lot of fun later we set off for Dubrovnik. Once again, the views were spectacular. Upon arrival I was just thoroughly irritated though, frankly. It was boiling hot, I hadn't slept, I was itchy from the heat rashes (which I had the whole time in Croatia), and we didn't have a way to contact the woman we were staying with - just an address. We took a cab and arrived there, but she wasn't there. Luckily, there was another traveller there who was kind enough to lend us his resources, and she came right over. We befriended him, and he and his brother became our Dubrovnik/Montenegro travel buddies. We spent two out of three nights in Dubrovnik's old town, where we walked around and enjoyed the free music filling the streets, and the tourists on every corner (sometimes fighting, sometimes loving each other). In fact, it's an extremely romantic city, and country really! I mentioned to Kate that I wouldn't have wanted to travel it alone, I would have felt really lonely since accommodation isn't typically hostels so it's harder to meet people and you're surrounded by couples and groups. Australia is a haven for single backpackers, Croatia is not.

Our lodging was right beside a beach, but it was too crowded so we walked a tiny bit to an area that was full of lounge chairs supplied by a waterside bar. We didn't purchase anything, but we lounged and read and swam and enjoyed life. Actually being able to relax was amazing - it didn't/doesn't happen often enough. Dubrovnik itself we spent a day exploring. We split up, which worked out well because we wanted to do different things. She was an exceptionally good travel partner, since we were open and there were no misunderstandings. I participated in a war-themed walking tour of Dubrovnik. It felt like I was watching a cartoon half the time, because the guide kept leaving us with cliffhangers like, "As I said, there is still a lot of hostility at present between Serbs, Croats and Bosnians, but what will be of our future? Let's walk around this corner and find someone who might have a clue for us." He then walked us over to a statue of a man holding a shield and a sword, and basically gave us his pessimistic prediction for the region's future. His accuracy will soon be tested, I suppose. I did learn a lot, regardless of the occasional cheesy lines he threw in. He talked to us about how most of Dubrovnik's damage came in one day in 1991, when about 13 civilians were killed. Walking through the city you can see which houses were hit and which weren't by signs like the colour: how white are the window frames, and how red is the roof for example. He also told us about how Serbs are perceived there, and how hard-hit Bosnia was. One interesting fact related to the number of mixed couples before and after the war. Statistics can be misleading, but he said something like 14% of marriages were mixed before, and at present it's about 4%. I think what I most appreciated was the background he provided. He told us about Tito, and what a unifying force he was - history I wasn't aware of.

There's no question that Dubrovnik is a tourist destination, but I think it's more for its beautiful sights than for its war history, black tourism hasn't become an "it" thing. Within the city there are a number of beautiful buildings to visit, great restaurants to eat at and the walls (surrounding the city) to walk along - there's more than enough to do without even thinking about the damage suffered during the war. I really wonder how often locals receive questions about it. I also wonder about the appropriacy of it. Is it fair to ask someone what it was like living through a war? Is it right to question someone because it's your opportunity to do so for your one day there, while they're facing tourists 365 days a year who might be forcing them to relive these experiences? My train of thought is that they probably repeat the story so many times that it becomes normal for them to do so. Again, there's no prescriptive nature to my observations, just to clarify. When we went to Kotor, Montenegro I asked a server where he was from, and he told us he was Bosnian but that there were no opportunities there. He then went on to expain a bit about the languages. Basically they're the same he said, if it weren't for the politics they would probably have one name. The writing, however, differs. In Montenegro they use both Cyrillic and Latin writing, while in Croatia it's just the Latin alphabet. The currency is also different, with the euro being used in Montenegro and the kuna in Croatia. I actually found Croatia to be surprisingly expensive, although I suppose it's probably not - coming from Turkey it struck me though. If I had been coming straight from Germany I'm sure I would have been thrilled.

Our time in Montenegro involved the two brothers, Kate and I driving around in our rented car frequently stopping to take photos of the endless beauty of the landscapes there. We sang, chatted and soaked up the views. Our main stop was in Kotor, where David and I climbed up to the fortress. It felt like it was 40 degrees, and probably for this reason we didn't make it to the top, but we did make it close. Along the way he picked up a fan that someone had left behind and in my pink dress, with fan in hand I sauntered back down the massive stone steps to a shady, alley where we paused to buy ice cream before returning to our comrades. The climb was worth it for the views, and also the conversation. You really do meet amazing people when you travel. It might be because you basically only see a snapshot (probably the best side), but regardless there's something to learn. We went off to Perast after, where we swam and basically just cooled off. The highlight had to be our attempt to leave Montenegro. It involved us stuck in between the two countries in traffic for over 3 hours. We started a dance party, and played alcohol-free drinking games involving an entity named "Pam Pam". Basically we kept ourselves entertained, although I did meander around and manage to hold a very basic conversation with a German tourist who refused my offering of Ritter sport. Keeping with the vacation theme (=no sleep) we spent our last night first at a gorgeous bar on the rocks in Dubrovnik, and then at a massive club. I can't remember the last time I went to a club like that. We danced for hours, and really just had a ton of fun before heading back to leave for Turkey. Once again, we didn't manage to sneak in any sleep before our departure. The past week has basically been a recovery process, dealing with the aftermath of two months of non-stop movement. I have this week and the next to take a break before I'm off again, possibly to Istanbul, probably to Bodrum and then in just over a month to South Africa!

I'm an addict, what can I say? Travel is what I know, it's what I do.

... Pictures to come, and possibly additional anecdotes

So, I haven't been able to bring myself to update in a while; however, the frequency of my posts is in no way representative of my travel patterns. Since April, I've been to: Istanbul, Eskişehir, Trabzon, Fethiye and Beypazarı.
I've also taken to discovering more of my own city - Ankara.

Istanbul - I was once again reminded of its chaotic, yet intoxicating nature. The purpose of my trip was to visit my friend Derin, who was coming from Canada. The journey involved an overnight train, which was actually a fairly pleasant trip once the infants stopped wailing. I woke up around 5:30 am to a gorgeous view of hills that we were sliding our way through (it was quite misty out). From the time I left my house to the time I finally met Derin, it took a total travel time of 13 hours. I was exhausted yet there was no time to rest, and so I left my backpack and we travelled. We started off at the Istanbul Museum of Modern Art, which is worth a visit for the spectacular view alone! It looks like nothing special from the outside, much like a factory, but the permanent exhibition had some gems and we both really enjoyed strolling around the temporary exhibition which was about the loss of nature due to pollution and industrialization. The pieces all had gorgeous landscapes, but there was always garbage scarring it in some way. We continued on to wander through Ortaköy, with its wonderful mosques and beautiful cafes. I tried one of the typical waffles, while Derin chose a Turkish coffee. The highlight was when we wandered through a tiny plaza that was filled with campaigning posters for the AKP (political party), and a woman walked up and proceeded to bash the AKP as best she could. After that, she pointed to one of the volunteers and said that she hated those people. She explained to us that the only people who supported the AKP were religious and traditional - not the kinds of people she wanted anything to do with. We smiled and tried to edge away as we weren't interested in getting into a heated discussion with either of the women. At this point the volunteer had wandered over and explained that she too hated "the other", in this case the more modern segment of the population perhaps? It was a strange experience, but very illustrative of Turkish politics and society. The result of the June elections? AKP won. In any case, Istanbul was mostly about seeing my friend. Sunday, I attended a church service, which was a very spontaneous decision. It was a Catholic church, I think, and mostly attended by Filipino immigrants. I didn't speak to anyone, but the service was interesting from what I gathered. It was a rushed trip, and made me realize that unless I'm in top form it's not one I'd like to repeat too often.

Eskişehir - a student's paradise. I had already been here before, but this time Cynthia, Kate and I decided to go so that we could also travel on to Kütahya, a place known for its hot springs. We didn't succeed, as the trains were packed and so we had to leave later than anticipated. As it happens, we went during the city's street festival. We decided to stay the night - a wise choice! We had a lovely time wandering the streets and listening to the live music everywhere. There also happened to be a salsa show that night, so we saw a star performer live. While watching we also played truth or dare jenga, which involved some of the funniest incidents in Turkey thus far. Suffice it to say that this city is a wonderful weekend getaway from Ankara; not because it has historical sites or wonderful museums, but because it's calm, relaxing and really pretty. You can even take a gondola ride on the canal (which we did)!

Trabzon - This city was once important, but now it's the least appealing I've been to. It was beautiful at times, because of the green. Even throughout the dirtiest parts of the city there were always trees everywhere, which was wonderful. It is raining constantly there, so it's not surprising that it should be so fecund. Once again Cynthia, Kate and I travelled together. It's a 12 hour bus ride from Ankara, which Cynthia and I took together. These bus trips are tough, because they're exhausting. You arrive at your destination completely drained, but it's morning and you have such a short time that you need to get going immediately. We went off in search of the Russian market, which involved a lot of walking and a very minor reward. It was filled with tacky goods that could've been purchased in Kızılay markets in Ankara. Within the city proper the most beautiful sight we saw was the Ayasofya, which was built in the 13th century. The city itself has been of great importance at different points in time, like during Ottoman times, or beforehand even after ancient times as a trade port, but now it looks decayed. The main trade that's done there now is prostitution, from what I gather. Unfortunately my friends and I were exposed to the darker side of this, as it must have been assumed by many of the men there that that was our reason for being there. We were harassed orally, and my friend was also sexually harassed, which was perverse. I have never felt so uncomfortable in Turkey as I did there. It was also surprising just how few women we saw wandering the streets compared to the number of men (in certain areas of the city). At night we went to a bar, and once again I was surprised to see that there were two sections: one for men and one for groups of people (mixed, men and women or just women). This was the first time I'd ever seen something like it, but I wasn't bothered. I did notice that although this bar was packed, the streets were fairly empty by around 10 pm, and that there was definitely a shortage of bars and night clubs in the city. This has now been confirmed by a friend of mine who lived there for 8 years. Anyway, the highlight of this trip was seeing Sümela Monastery, which made everything worth it - the horrible men and the depressing weather. This monastery was built into the side of a steep cliff above a valley, and it really is spectacular to see from far away and up close. It looks to not have much depth, but then once you climb to it you see that there are courtyards and it's quite something. It was built in the 4th century and has been through quite a few rough times, always to be restored again. The mosaics in the rock church were amazing, but I was unable to get the information I would have wanted. I was told that apparently the mosaics were moved, but why? And from where? They were still in amazing condition really. If I were to go to north eastern Turkey again, I would probably skip spending any time in Trabzon proper and instead go just to the monastery and some of the natural conservation sites a few hours outside of the city. Apparently Rize isn't a bad choice for a weekend either, particularly if you're a tea aficionado!

Fethiye - a place for beach, sand and wind! I don't think I'll ever forget Fethiye, because I went paragliding there. It was one of the strangest experiences I've ever had. I went to Fethiye with Cynthia, Eilidh and Brian (Cynthia's boyfriend). The four of us had discussed paragliding briefly before going, but none of us did any research into it. When we arrived (after an overnight bus) on the Saturday morning, we were exhausted so we relaxed at the hostel, which was incredibly luxurious, and decided we would try paragliding if at all possible as well as a boat trip to Kelebek Vadisi. We set off for Ölüdeniz, and by the time we got there I already wasn't feeling very well. When they decided to go on a boat trip for the day, I chose to stay put at the beach alone rather than be motion sick as well as full of stomach cramps. This was probably a wise decision as the waters were rough to start with they told me. I spent the day lounging on the beach, surrounded by bright red, topless and mostly overweight British tourists. I was genuinely surprised to see so many British tourists there, and also that they weren't wearing their bathing suits. I later spoke to a local about this, because I wondered how the Turks felt - this doesn't seem to really fit with their cultural habits after all... He told me that generally speaking the locals go to other beaches, but that they don't judge these people by the same standards because after all, they're from a different culture. It was a very diplomatic response. In any case, I had no problem with my neighbours for the day as no one even spoke to me really. I got to read "Dune" on the beach and occasionally brave the walk to the water (over a lot of very uncomfortable pebbles, stones and rocks). I should have worn sandals, but instead I wore sneakers. The temperature was hot - about 36 degrees. I tried to avoid the sun, but even so I was extremely burned by the end of the day. One of the times when I was trying to avoid the sun, I hid out in a bus shelter and ended up chatting with the Dolmuş coordinator for quite a while. By the end of it I had secured a sweet deal for my friends and I for paragliding, which we did Sunday morning. Since we went with the coordinator's friend's company, they reduced the price by about 30% for us. This is yet another reason why I love this country. If you speak any Turkish, they're so genuinely happy and appreciative. I'm not sure whether it's because so few people try, or whether it's because they recognize that it's a tough language to learn; but, I've found people really kind (usually!) when I try to speak with them in Turkish. That being said, one thing that I find difficult is when they comment on their perception of my level and I'm left unsure of how to respond. This can be both negative and positive at times. When comparing us yabancı to each other it usually results in frustration, as people are very vocal about how they think we should speak and who speaks how. At this point, having now lived in Turkey for 10 months I can say that typically I can carry conversations, but I've given up hope of fluency because I think I've lost my idea of what it means. Back to the beach! On Saturday night we wandered into town and had a nice dinner at the marina, watching the boats floating and the stars shining. Sunday morning we set off for our paragliding expedition. The scariest part was the drive up the mountain because the driver didn't seem to mind the curves or the lack of road guards. I spent the ride conversing with the instructor beside me. We talked about politics and tradition. We decided to do the jump together. He put me in my suit and gave me my clear instructions: you'll run off the cliff, and make sure you don't stop running until I tell you and then you can sit comfortably and relax. I did as I was told and we glided. I was in front, sitting there, with a complete stranger, 2000 metres above the Aegean Sea talking about Australia. We glided and it was gorgeous. It was an incredibly peaceful experience, not like the adrenaline I had anticipated. We sat and talked, and smiled and took photos. It was incredibly strange because it felt like I was suspended in time. The minutes passed but I couldn't feel them nor could I feel the movement until I took off my helmet, at which point the wind rushed by and I felt better. By the time we came to land, motion sickness had hit me (as always!). During the landing he had to pass me a bag for fear that I'd vomit all over. The pathetic part was that we landed on the beach strip where people were standing to watch the paragliders come down, and instead of landing gracefully and jumping up and down with joy or even waiting for my friends, I landed and then ran off to the office to lie down and settle my stomach. I was fine within a short period of time. We then went for a hearty breakfast - I had toast. Due to the number of British tourists everywhere, the restaurants all offer British food, which was kind of a bit of a treat. My friends were able to eat meat that they wouldn't normally have. In Ankara bacon costs 78 TL at the supermarket for a small package that would probably be 10$ at the most at home; so, that was a treat for them in Fethiye. We spent the afternoon at Kayaköy. It's a village that was basically abandoned during the population exchange of 1923 between Greece and Turkey. It was then quite severely damaged by an earthquake in the 1950s; however, the buildings are still fairly intact, particularly the two churches. There also seems to be a sort of small artist commune there. I can't really express why it was unique, but it really did feel like we were walking through a ghost town. There were hardly any other people wandering, and the houses were all half ruined, but still standing. Once we hit the top of the hill and looked down it was an especially eerie feeling. There were many experiences that struck me in Fethiye and its surrounding areas. I'll return at some point, I'm sure.

Beypazarı - this small town is about 1.5 hours outside of Ankara, or less if there's no traffic. For such a proximity to Ankara, it's surprising the number of local dishes they have including stews, salty cookies (consistency much like South African rusks) and its own special baklava. Basically the reason for coming to this town is the shopping. They're well known for their inexpensive but beautifully designed silver jewellery. It lived up to its reputation. It's also quite pretty because of its nicely preserved Ottoman style houses, which line the valley and its surrounding hills. It's worth a visit if you're in Ankara. I'll probably try to go back a few more times next year, but I'll make sure to take less money next time

Next post: more photos, and more descriptions of Ankara itself! This will have to wait though as I'll be heading to Canada, America, Poland, Germany and Croatia for the summer!

I spent the past week exploring Southeastern Turkey with Amy and a group of Turkish tourists. The tourists were all based in Istanbul and Ankara; however, some have been living in Germany and Holland, so it was an interesting experience. There were four non-Turks total: myself, Amy, and two men (one Australian and one American) - so we represented four/five different English speaking countries between the four of us.
I found that because of my foreignness and my desire to speak Turkish the group appreciated me like a toy or a pet. This affection increased even moreso when I fell ill. Basically, I'm not going to bother with chronological order; I just want to document some of the highlights for me.

Going East I had heard stories from my Turkish friends and colleagues about the dangers and the poverty, but what I found amusing was that most of them had never been. Regardless of this, I'm sure that in some way their comments had an impact on my perceptions. It's inevitable.
There is no question that the food is unparalleled. We spent part of Tuesday in Gaziantep, which is well-known for their dessert, specifically baklava, but there's a lot more to it too. In the city, we wandered through the market, where I've never been offered so much free food before. Everyone was kind and extremely generous, even when I repeatedly purchased nothing. Generosity is key, but gluttony is a massive vice.

I ate a considerable amount. Amidst my eating, I visited an extremely well designed museum, which had a history of Gaziantep as well as British and French occupation. There were signs in both English and Turkish, as well as nicely designed art. They chose to incorporate different forms of media like video, text and images. However, the lighting was quite dim and it was only one corridor, which isn't the best for circulation. Anyway, I found the text regarding Armenians particularly interesting - how the situation in the early 1900s was framed. In North America we hear it one way, here (obviously) it's written differently. In any case, the view from the top was pleasing to the eyes. One of the funniest parts of the tour was that it was all in Turkish; a language in which I am far from fluent, when it concerns ancient mythology, history in general or anecdotes - all of which are far too abstract for my functional abilities. I found it amusing half the time trying to listen and piece bits together, or ask the bilingual people for snippets; however, by the end I didn't bother and chose to wander freely instead. It's a bit of a shame as I didn't learn nearly as much as I could have, but on the other hand I had the experiences that I chose and wanted. I'm content with this taste test of the east and I know now where to return.

The highlights for me were: Gaziantep, Nemrut, Hasankeyf and Diyarbakir.

Gaziantep I've briefly described, and in addition to all of this I found it clean, which I like. Many of the places we went to, and the roads along the way were covered in litter. The roads themselves were often in awful condition, particularly as we got further east like toward Batman. It was quite comical as on numerous occasions the bus was held up in traffic jams caused by goats or cows. Far from the life I lead here in Ankara. We also saw far more beggars and street vendors than I see here; in Mardin, for example, I was followed by children who wanted money from me. The experience was unsettling. In Mexico Dave and I had experienced an attempted robbery by children, and it's awful. You feel angry with them, but pity them at the same time and then feel stupid for having those emotions. Anyway, this happened on Thursday, and I was extremely hungry, tired and dehydrated - compounded with the feeling that children were going to rob me I returned to chat with bus drivers, not entirely impressed with Mardin. I had walked the streets in the main area of old town, seen the buildings all made from the same material, and some beautiful views, but it didn't feel like it had much character to me. The conversation with the bus drivers centered around people coming from all different backgrounds in the east (Arab, Kurd, Turk and "foreign"), and how this affected their job-finding ability. The trip was filled with many interesting conversations actually. I feel really lucky that I went on it with Turkish people, as I was able to hear their opinions and stereotypes.

The day after Gaziantep (Wednesday), we spent the late morning in a tiny town where I was the only person to opt out of taking a boat cruise around a lake to a completely submerged mosque. I get motion sick. I, instead, chose to rent a bike and ride around town in my purple dress. I went up and down the same streets and hills (yes, the town was that small). In my wanderings I discovered my own mosque, which was half-submerged under water - I'm not sure why. It was eerily beautiful. I asked permission to enter and walked along the makeshift platform. Not such a bad idea, a half under water prayer area; almost seems more natural. I also met with some locals, with whom I discussed the dangers of children climbing on roofs. A hot topic of conversation, clearly. After returning to the bus, I ate a tiny bun. This infuriated the parasite, which had been squatting in my stomach and about half an hour to an hour after leaving the tiny town we had to make an emergency stop. The time had come. After a tedious afternoon, I ended up being taken to hospital in an ambulance. This is where they determined that I had a parasite (which I hope by now is no longer the case). My stomach still didn't let up, and it caused some pretty serious shakiness. I felt cold as ice, shaky and dizzy. They searched for my veins, found them and took blood. I was terrified that she had done something wrong, as it's never taken as long to draw blood; it wouldn't come. The surroundings weren't comforting. I've never been in a hospital, which looked like that one or a hospital toilet that looked quite as abandoned. The positive experience I can draw from this is that now I've seen a glimpse into public health care in one of the more developed eastern towns. They did the tests, and hooked me up to an IV in the meantime. Intermittently people walked up to look at me, due to me foreign appearance. Fortunately one of the tour guides was with me, so I didn't feel quite as bizarre as I'm sure I would have otherwise. The novelty factor for me was the age of all of the employees. The nurses and doctors all looked younger than me. Overall, I think that they were effective, but at the time I was deeply concerned. Maybe appearance isn't everything, after all?

After taking pills the problem still wasn't solved, and the next morning I was highly afraid of taking the bus. Things worked out ok, and I'm still taking the pills (I will be yet for another week - so let's hope they get the job done). Bad timing is all. The trip itself was culinary based, unfortunately. I watched others eat the most delicious looking foods, while I had to stick with plain biscuits, bread, rice and powerade for the next 4 days. It was fine though; the trip was enjoyable in so many other ways that my biscuits definitely didn't put a damper on it. They just caused slight energy loss. It's surprising how tiring sitting on a bus can be.

One down side to the tour guide/bus tour option is that you don't determine how long you stay in a place for. Hasankeyf is one of the regrets. Ricky had mentioned it to me ages ago, as a must-see due to its future non-existence. The plan is to build a dam, which will cause the destruction of this town. It has an interesting history which includes Romans and Arabs; it was an important stop on the silk route. What I found stunning were the caves and the citadel. It has a massive river running through/beside it too, which also adds to its wondrous appearance. My plan is to go back and explore Hasankeyf, Batman and Diyarbakir - there's too rich a history not to. Diyarbakir I want to spend more time in, particularly talking to locals. It has a very bad reputation. I had watched an interesting documentary prior to this trip about children from that area being arrested for throwing rocks at military; I want to look more into that. There's always something more to look into in this country, as it's so vast with so many different pasts and issues. There were also some entertaining arguments between fellow participants. At one point many of them wanted to change plans to visit the Syrian border, while the couple behind me was intent on visiting another site of ancient ruins. The Syrian border won. We arrived, got out, got back on and left. Slightly pointless, but then again so was my strong desire to take a photo of a sign just because the town is named Batman

After Diyarbakir we took a really enjoyable ferry ride across a small lake to our hotel. We slept all of 3.5 hours perhaps before waking up at 2:30 am yesterday to go up Mount Nemrut. Amy wore flats, which was quite a funny sight. It was extremely difficult to breath walking up to the top and I've never felt my heart beat so fast. I think my lack of sleep, food and motion sickness from the minibus combined with the elevation caused the issue. Amy and I both had our disabilities, which meant we sat down and waited for a while while all the old couples hobbled past us smiling as they went. We did eventually make it to the top, and it was worth it.

The sunrise over the mountain tops was gorgeous, and the status were quite a sight as well. It reminded me a lot of Massada in Israel, where I had also braved the early morning to watch the sun in its majesty. It wasn't nearly as cold there though; at Nemrut there was snow all over, and the walk up was actually quite icy at times. Amy in her flats had a time of it, but we made it back safely. The ride afterwards involved some discomfort, but I was fortunate to have a good who didn't mind having me as a companion in the front seat.

There's a lot more to say about this trip, because the more I think about it the more I remember. We visited ancient ruins, monasteries, bridges built by Roman emperors, world-famous mosaic museums and more. Everywhere we went there was a story, which most of the time I couldn't understand, but I tried to appreciate. Even with the language barrier, I was still in awe at times of the sheer distance between the times when these sites were built and their continuing presence.

In May I'll go to Istanbul and Trabzon, perhaps Beypazari as well. In June and July I think I'll try to return to Diyarbakir, Hasankeyf and Adana (which had a much more tropical and peaceful ambiance than expected). This country continues to amaze me. I wish my base wasn't in Ankara sometimes, due to its boring nature; however, it is a blessing for bus travel. I also wish my job wasn't to teach, but rather to travel. I suppose for that all I need is to find myself a Sultan