Cappadocia, Turkey

As has been the case for much of the trip (and for much of my roadtrip history when I’m not driving), I slept for the majority of our morning drive on our journey from Istanbul to Cappadocia.  When I first nodded off we were still inside the city, but when I woke up the landscape had changed dramatically.  Lush greenery, rivers, and streams gave way to a brown semi arid desert.  In American terms, goodbye Indiana, hello Arizona.  At a remote truck stop we all piled out of the coach to take a break.  Initially this seemed like any other rural stop, dirty and run down, but turns out we were at salt flat.  I knew nothing about salt flats aside from every time a land speed record is set, it’s done at a salt flat, and standing in the middle of one it was easy to see why.  The ground is so incredibly white that sunglasses are a necessity, much like the morning after a night of intense snowfall.  Amazingly, this flat is actually a lake for half of the year.  And not because TVA dams it up, but because the rainfall varies so greatly.  We took a few pictures and I bought the Turkish version of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish and we headed on our way.

For hours we drove through desert, the scenery hardly changing, when suddenly a valley appeared as if it had been carved out of the ground below us and we descended to its bottom.  The spectacle of Cappadocia isn’t necessarily the valley, but the homes inside.  Within the valley, oddly shaped rock/mud homes seemingly stick up out of the ground nearly everywhere you look.  Every home/structure seems to be carved out of the rock that used to be there…each one a semi-modern cave dwelling.  The omnipresence of these in Cappadocia has made it a popular tourist destination, so conveniences and helpful English speakers are abundant.

After getting a good night of rest at the Flintstone Cave Lodge (under a pink Pebbles comforter no less) , Awal and I decided to rent bicycles to explore the area.  Initially, after climbing a decent grade, enjoying the view, and coasting back down, this seemed that a fantastic idea.  We spotted out a hill way out in the distance and decided to bike out toward it.  After traveling several kilometers mostly downhill, we got on to a trail and made it out to the a hill where we could climb around, check out some of abandoned dwellings and enjoy the view of the city.   From the top of the hill, we spotted a trail that winded through the hills and back to the main road and decided to bike down it.  Unfortunately, after just a few feet Awal realized that his rear tire was completely flat, and he could no longer peddle.  So here we were, off on a trail several kilometers from town without any option but to push our bikes back.  Going back to the road would have meant walking a good bit out of the way, so instead we pushed our bikes up the aforementioned trail.  If we were merely walking uphill, then it wouldn’t have been so bad.  Or if we were pushing our bikes on flat ground, that would have been ok too…pushing the bikes on a hilly dirt trail, however, was grueling.  After pushing for an hour or so we found a cave where we stopped for a short rest.  People were passing by on the trail every so often, so we knew we were still in a safe area…we’d even ask them “how far to the main road?” and nearly every person replied “you’re nearly there!”  Considering this, we didn’t worry too much about being dehydrated or lost or any of those other things you hear about idiot hikers doing.  Besides, we were merely idiot bikers that wouldn’t be so idiotic had the tire not gone flat.  In the middle of our laughing about the situation and discussing our resentment for the bikes, Awal looked up and said “Is that an apple tree?”  Now, I’ve never come across an apple tree in the Turkish wilderness before, but it looked as much like an apple tree as any other apple tree I’ve ever seen, and those red fruits dangling from its branches sure looked like apples.  Awal climbed the tree and from his perch tossed me a smaller one.  I caught it and after debating whether or not it was a good idea, took a bite from the semi-mysterious fruit.  Sure enough, it was an apple…about the best apple I’ve ever tasted.  We sat in the shade and ate as many of the ripe apples that we could reach on the tree and then continued on our way.

Remember earlier when I said that the passersby told us we were nearly there?  Apparently “nearly there” means “not very close” around here because it took about 2 more hours to reach the main road. Even though walking with the bikes was a royal pain, we had just enough energy and sustenance to get us through.  When we were hungry, we found apples, when we were thirsty, we stumbled upon a roadside stand selling water, when we were unsure about directions, we crossed paths with a British man on a BMW motorcycle who affirmed we were going the right way, and when we were thirsty again, we found a water spigot next to a campground.  Weary, heavy legged, and sick of being in possession of bicycles, we made it back to the Flintstone Cave Hotel and promptly began doing nothing for the rest of the day.

Istanbul, not Constantinople

Q: What do you call a Turkish school kid who takes your money?

A: An Istanbully

As I left for this trip, my wonderful big sister took my itinerary and gave recommendations from books and her friends for where to go and what to do at each of my destinations.  Most locations have 2 or 3 lines worth of text, but Istanbul, Turkey has 3 pages.  Considering that at one point, this place essentially was the center of the world, it’s completely understandable.  As opposed to giving a chronology of what we did, I’ll describe the places/moments that gripped me.

The Seaside

Along the Bosporus River at the Golden Horn peninsula in old town Istanbul lies a miles long shore of rocks bordering on boulders strewn as if God took his hand and tossed them as gravel lining the river.  The shore in and of itself is nothing extraordinary…there’s no inviting sandy beach and the water is choppy in behavior and dingy in appearance.  However, for local men, this is the place to hang out.  Stretching the entirety of my 30 minute walk along the seaside, grown men sat everywhere along the rocks.  Some fished, some read, some sat and stared at nothing in particular, some seemed to be working on their tan, some bathed, some played chess, some ate, and all seemed to be enjoying the company and comradarie of friends.  I often joke about how much fun it would be to make a fort like we all used to when we were kids.  You know, you and your buddies grab a few mattresses, pillows and anything else that can provide an impromptu barrier, make a sign for the outside, grab some Doritos and Cokes for the inside and camp out-protected from the world-until you have a truly good reason to leave.  At the shore I observed the same childlike attitude displayed in these men.  Presumably, many had finished work for the day and they were there to hang out and relax with their friends.  Better yet, some of the guys had taken some boulders and brought mortar or Quikrete to fill in the gaps and make their own fort where they can revel in their manhood.  I’ve found that as different as cultures may be, some traits remain ingrained in humanity…one of the most prominent of those is the need for friendship...we weren’t meant to be alone.  Some cultures go out and get drinks, some sit for hours in public baths, some play chess, some build forts by the sea, and some even play a little fantasy football.  Seeing this trait in other cultures makes me feel a bit more normal…and I look forward to observing this on the rest of my journey.

The Grand Bizarre

For some, Istanbul’s Grand Bizarre is an overwhelming and intimidating spectacle of commerce.  Vendors selling nearly everything you can imagine (and some things you can’t) stretch as far as the eye can see.  Many of the salesmen hurriedly approach and do their best to convince you that their item is exactly what you need.  I’ve been to my fair share of open air markets (I grew up in East Tennessee where you’re always within a 30 minute drive of a good flea market…ain’t my first rodeo) and love bartering, so I’m in my element in this sort of place.  Some of our group needed to buy a few items, but I didn’t have a thing to purchase, so I just enjoyed walking around and having friendly exchanges with salesmen.  Here are a few gems from the day (bear in mind, I always keep a smile on my face when talking with a vendor):

Vendor: My friend…you want cologne?

Matt: No thanks, I naturally smell good.

V: Look Turkish spinning top…50 cents!

M: I’d get dizzy

V: Socks…you need socks?

M: No thanks, my feet are really hot

V: My friend, we have shoes in your size

M:  I’m good thanks.

V: But we have jeans in your size too!

M: (scans the crowd and realizes I’m a relative giant) I doubt it man.

V: You come for carpet?!

M: No thanks, I don’t need a carpet

Awal: Yea, where are we going to put it?

V: By now, and I’ll ship it to you…where are you from?

M: Tennessee

V: Oh, like Texas…people in the south loooooooove carpets.

Awal: I do like carpet

M: It does feel nice on your feet

V: Come inside and look

M: No thanks, I don’t have a house…or really anywhere of my own to live

V: (puzzled) Oh…well…ok, bye

Awal: For real, how would we carry a carpet?

M: It’s probably the thing that is keeping us from total happiness.

The Grand Bizarre…gotta love it.

The Haggia Sophia

So far on this trip, Awal and I haven’t made many bad decisions.  Granted, the Sleeping Beauty Motel was a disaster but average is pretty high. Unfortunately, we made a mistake by choosing to walk through the Haggia Sophia instead of Topkopi Palace.  I had two reference citing Topkapi as the best place to see in Istanbul, but I went with the mindset of thinking “How can you go to Istanbul without seeing one of the most significant religious and historical landmarks in the world?”  Inside, the Haggia Sophia is an extremely interesting place…a true intersection of Christianity and Islam.  Christian mosaics uncovered after years of a plaster coating are a site to behold, not so much because of their beauty but because of their significance.  However, I think one can behold its exterior beauty and sheer mass and get 70% of the appreciation.  All I heard about Topkapi were raving reviews…each place was about $15 to enter and we only wanted to pick one…oh well.  Even so, the 30% of extra appreciation that one receives from standing inside the Haggia Sophia is significant, if only to let your mind wander and imagine what all transpired within the building.  For a variety of reasons, standing inside made me feel the effects of religion dictated by government…the ills of theocracy if you will (I have more thoughts on this, but not for this venue).

The Barbershop:

pre shave

After a few weeks of traveling, Awal and I both had begun to look a bit scraggly and considered a beard trim.  Personally, I’ve been a proud beard wearer for about 5 years now- and in that time I’ve only been clean shaven 3 times (once cause the Florida heat was too hot, once as a joke to get a creepy mustache, and once in Kenya because I felt like eagles would soon nest in there).  However on this day, we saw a sign outside a small barbershop in old city Istanbul advertising a shave/massage for 10 Lira (roughly $7) and decided to go for it (hey, I’ve always been curious about getting straight blade shave).  

We walked in and were escorted by a man sitting outside (who mar or may not have had anything to do with the shop) to some metal chairs sitting just inside the shop.  The barber, a man perhaps in his late 50s had longer grayish-black hair with a receding hairline and a fierce mustache spoke no English.  He looked a bit like a 70s-80s hair band rocker who was holding on to the remnants of former glory…or perhaps a guy who drives a Harley…or maybe, just maybe he looks like the most skilled barber in Istanbul.  His previous patron left and I jumped into the chair not knowing what to expect.  I gave a sign language descrption of what I wanted done by rubbing my beard and then signaling that a base runner is safe, then rubbed my head and gave the ‘don’t do it’ finger wag.  He smiled and nodded, rubbed my beard, and then said a few exasperated Turkish words presumably griping about the amount of facial hair he had to contend with.  In an instant, most of my beard was gone thanks to a pair of hair clippers and a narrow guard.  Then my new friend got some water out of a teapot that had been sitting on a hotplate and mixed it with some shaving cream, of which a heaping amount was lathered all over my face.  Carefully, he pulled out his razor, attached a fresh blade and slowly scraped the hair off my face.  One thing I didn’t really thing about, was the fact that a strange guy’s hands would be all over my lips and face…gotta admit, that was weird.  The barber (I really wish I knew his name) continued with his precision until my face was as smooth as marble.  He took great detail in getting every hair off my face and even put some sort of lotion on the nicked places.  I thought we were done at this point, but I was wrong.  From out of nowhere, a lighter appeared. Awal remained in his metal chair and through the mirror we had the unspoken communication of “Holy crap…what is he about to do with that?”  Turns out the lighter wasn’t to light a cigarette, instead to singe the tiny hairs off the end of my ear.  Rapidly, he whisked the flame over and over my ear, leaving it as bald as an ear can be. Fire=awesome.  Suddenly, I remembered that the sandwich board that advertised the shave also said “massage.”  Perhaps thankfully, no massage came with the price of the shave…

I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the face staring back at me…short hair and a cleanly shaven face?  Me 5 years ago, but that’s surely not someone I know.  I nodded a nod of thanks to the barber and gave the seat over to Awal and rubbed my smooth face, impressed with the barber’s work. Hey, I don’t shave often, but when I do it oughta be an experience right?

Even though this is lengthy, it’s a mere snippet of my thoughts and experiences. When I return I hope to sit down and expound on it all…give a bit more commentary and a few less reports.

 I hope you’re enjoying this journey with me…

Bulgaria

Knock, knock:
Who’s there?
Sofia
Sofia who?
SOFIAT UNION!! I AM THE ONE ASKING THE QUESTIONS!

Of all the places on our itinerary, Bulgaria excited me the least.  Nothing against the country, I’ve met a lot of great people during my previous two visits, but unlike everywhere else on this journey, I’ve been there before.  Sofia was only a short stop as we arrived in the late afternoon and were scheduled to leave by the following morning.  Our hotel was a bit of a spectacle as it rose 19 stories above the ground and happened to be the tallest building in the area.  Strangely, I’ve twice stayed in Bulgarian hotels that were half renovated, and I’ve twice stayed in a non-renovated Soviet side…probably fitting considering my past history with hotels.  After a night of sweating and sort of sleeping in the 15th story room (heat rises right?), we all set off for a walking tour of Sofia.  I had seen everything in the tour just a few months before, so I mostly followed along semi-engaged.  Around lunchtime, we headed off to Plovdiv, a small town 2 hours east of Sofia.  Plovdiv, apparently is the 2nd oldest continually inhabited city of the world and has evolved into a relaxed touristy community with gelato stands, travel information centers and Lacoste stores. With only a 6 or so hours to spend in town, we spent the daylight semi hurriedly walking around and exploring town and the evening once again eating what we could find for cheap.  Awal and I made the gluttonous decision to eat too much for dinner and  regretted it almost immediately. Since each of felt like we were carrying bricks around in our stomachs, we decided to walk it off.  We came upon some sort of city/government  building that possesses a massive marble slab that serves as an entrance.  Unfortunately, we didn’t have a football to throw around (one of the items I should have packed…like more t-shirts and some shorts…I still don’t know how after all my travels that I remain a poor packer) so we relived the glory days by running a few football drills.  I wonder what bypassers thought? “Hey, there are two idiots running and jumping around  at town hall…stupid teenagers.”

That’s it for Bulgaria…and that’s soon to be it for Europe!

Serbia

Q: What did renowned Serbian chess player Boris Kostic say to each of his defeated opponents?
A: You got Serbed!

Yep, we went to Serbia.  Belgrade is a place that I can’t ever say that I thought I’d ever be for any reason…though I guess that applies to most of the places I’ve been so far on this journey.  Pulling into the city, Serbia’s relatively recent war torn past is apparent. Despite the presence of modern edifices and typical semi-big city conveniences, dilapidated structures and bombed out buildings aching for demolition still litter the streets.  Even so, Belgrade has its charm.  The first thing I heard about the town is that it has a fantastic fort overlooking the river and city.  I couldn’t help but think of all the family vacations to small Carolina coastal towns over the years when Dad would get excited for us all to go to the fort.  Well as I remember, I’d complain and gripe about stomping around a fort instead of spending more time building sand castles and getting in fights with waves, but then would thoroughly enjoy myself.  So now I like forts, and the one in Belgrade is a spectacle.

Overlooking the confluence of the Sava and Danube rivers, it sits at a beautiful location. Though the fortress was built in the 500s, it has been updated periodically through the past 1500 years and has the varying architecture to attest to that fact.  The structure itself is impressive, but the view overlooking the Danube is perhaps the best spot in Belgrade.  Apparently, many of the locals agree because there were at least 20 couples making out at the fort (of all ages I might add). Side note- there are gorgeous women all over in Belgrade...I've been a lot of places and I must say, Belgrade ranks up there with Knoxville, Birmingham, and Atlanta on the beautiful women scale. Ok, so I digress...

After walking around the fort for a good two hours or so, Awal and I decided to employ a new strategy for dinner. Considering how we're on a super tight budget for the trip, we went with the "walk around and eat cheap stuff for sale on the street" method.  Yep, great decision. We managed to get another fantastic kebab and eat gelato twice.  Gotta love adventure eating.

One night in Belgrade...I say it was a success...on to Bulgaria

Pictures are up!

Here are just a few of the pictures that I've posted from our journey (about time, I know). The full album is on Facebook 

Just click the word "Facebook" above and you'll be there. Please check it out, comment, etc. 

Budapest

Q: What do you call an overbearing Hindu?
A: A Buddha pest
(terrible, I know)

You thought I was going to go with a play on Hungary didn’t you?  Can’t always go with the layup in life…

Making our way to Budapest, it was easy to see we are making our way to progressively more impoverished areas.  Compared to Port au Prince, Budapest may as well be Martha’s Vineyard, but the subtle shift from Austria and Germany is apparent.  Like Prague and Vienna, we had two nights to check out the city.  After rolling in around 5PM, we didn’t have much time to explore the city, so the whole group went out to a traditional Hungarian restaurant near city center.  Being a cheapskate, I was a bit leery of the establishment considering that it had all cloth napkins, a long wine list, and a fantastic location. Sure enough, this was one of the more expensive restaurants in Budapest…and my fantastic meal of stuffed cabbage was about $12.  One of my not so hidden talents is my ability to pack away the food and as this trip continues, I’m becoming known as one of the people who can serve as a garbage disposal (or a rubbish bin if you’re British).  The food was wonderful, and thanks to my abilities and the generosity of others had about 3 entrees. Go me.

Most noteworthy sites in Budapest are mostly in a central location, so instead of walking around for 8 hours like we did in Vienna, we merely walked for 5 (also we didn’t get lost).   The best spot in Budapest has to be at the Liberty statue which overlooks the Danube and all of downtown.  Getting up there took a bit of a climb, so that that made the view just bit better.  During our walk in Budapest, Awal and I both decided to wear our NFL jerseys (it was a Sunday after all).  We’re both suffering from a bit of football withdrawal, so we each brought one of our favorite bad jerseys. (in case you don’t know, our group of buddies from college all wear bad NFL jerseys whenever we hang out…an integral part of our “straight middle school weekends” so we’re taking straight middle school global and combating our football withdrawal at the same time) After walking all over creation, we came upon the world’s swankiest McDonald's where we spent an inordinate amount of time on the internet looking at the week 1 NFL scores.  We really didn’t have much else to do…and hey, it was nearly free.

Still, I give my apologies for the lack of pictures...still can't load a picture in less than 10 min.  Hopefully  some will show up on Facebook.

Cheers ya'll!

Vienna!

Vienna:
During our drive to Vienna, Lana (our tour guide and fearless leader) gave a challenge to the Americans to come up with a joke for every country we visit.  By the time we pulled into Vienna, we has risen to the occasion:
Q:What does it take to catch an Austrian field mouse?
A: Just Von Trapp
                                                                
Get excited, because these lafrfy-taffy style gems are coming at every border!

We’re meeting wonderful, interesting characters each step of the journey.  One of these is our friendly Latvian bus driver, Dennis.  When we were in Prague, Dennis was asked what he did on his day off. His response: “I sleep, I drink bottle of wine, I computer, I sleep again…then I, I ok!”  As we walked the remote streets of Vienna in the early afternoon, we were less than impressed by the city describing our experience in the style of Dennis.  With that in mind, here’s how we spent the early afternoon in Vienna:
We walk, we lost, we laugh, we search for magnet, we donut, we sandwich, we lost again, we see building, then, we ok.  For real, our first 4 hour hours of walking around Vienna was largely uneventful aside from trying to understand our poorly marked map and eating an amazing kebab sandwich.  Finally, after all our aimless stumbling, we found the city center.  This spot was definitely worth the wait.  Vienna’s city center is abounding in elaborate structural beauty. More than utilitarian edifices, these were built as works of art.  Ornate architecture and elaborate statues adorn the exterior of every significant government building, paying testimony to this nation’s prior status as a global power (not that the place seems to be hurting today by the way).  As enamored as I was by the beauty of downtown Vienna, the moment that will remain with me occurred inside the downtown cathedral…

Mass was in session as we strode through the towering archway and enormous doors.  An angelic female voice cascaded from the front of the enormous room, singing something soft and presumably praiseworthy in German.  A large iron fence kept me and all the visitors in the back of the church, far away from the angelic voice and whatever else was going on up front.  If there was any question as to our welcome as an outsider, a large sign next to the iron fence said “Mass in session, visitors not welcome.”

What a sad commentary on what reality used to be for common citizen pre-reformation.  Standing outside the bars, unwelcome to join, dependent upon the word of the priest, they are left wanting and seeking a mysterious God.  I know to some, elaborate cathedrals are a place to meet God, but for me he seems distant inside.  When I read the words of Jesus, I see no mention of his desire to have enormous buildings erected in his “honor.” I just cannot imagine him looking at this opulence and say “This is how I want my people to use their resources.”  Through the stained glass you can see people hurting, starving, and in need…though the glass can’t help but distort the picture…

Guess that’s a bit of a soapbox, but I struggle in cathedrals…these places are perhaps made to capture God…I say it’s futile.  Why not marvel at the starlit night sky or sit in awe of the beauty outside your window?

Anyway, Vienna was marvelous.  I thoroughly enjoyed the well preserved architecture inside an otherwise modern city…and the kebab sandwich.

Prague Blague

Before I left, a good few people (each of whom I hold in high regard) mentioned their love for the city of Prague, so I had some seriously high expectations.  In the middle of our ride, we stopped at the German-Czech boarder for lunch.  Walking inside the smallish truckstop/cafeteria, I was surprised to hear the familiar droning growl of 700 horsepower vehicles driving in a circle.  Sure enough, I looked to my right and saw Czech TV proudly broadcasting NASCAR from Pocono, PA.  Funny the things that follow you around the world...I actually saw a Walker, Texas Ranger episode airing in a Kenyan restaurant once, and Walker was trying out his hand at being a NASCAR driver at Bristol, TN.  At some point, I'll write a blog specifically about the South's contributions to the world...so be excited for that...

Anyway...Prague:

Even though we rolled into Prague at about 6, Awal and I wanted to get a head start on seeing the city.  After 2 hours of walking and seeing little more than graffiti, Chinese restaurants, casinos, and Skodas, Prague seemed to have all the charm of Peoria (no offense to ya'll from Peoria).  Thankfully, we had two days in Prague instead of our typical two, so the city had a chance to redeem itself.  And oh, did it ever...

We started out by meeting up with a free walking tour beginning in the city center.  For two hours, Jeff (our uber-knowledgeable and energetic American guide) led us around town and gave us a brief Czech history 101. Thanks to my history classes over the years, I knew that the Czech Republic had an interesting and varied past regarding WWII, the Iron Curtain, democracy, and the like, but being there made it come alive.  Among the sites were Motzart's concert hall (where he first performed and conducted Don Giovanni), ancient cathedrals, ane several revolutionary structures built by King Charles.  However, what resonated for me was standing at Venceslas Square.  In this location in 1989, 200,000 Czechs assembled to non-violently protest the Communist control of the nation.  These demonstrators each drew out their keys and shook them, symbolically demanding for freedom while creating a thunderous sound outside national government buildings Standing in that square, I felt a little bit connected to the Czechs and the peaceful demonstrators 20 years before.  

After our tour, we set our sites for Prague Castle.  The castle sits on a hill on the edge of town, thus it's always in easy view.  Our long climb was well worth it...the view of town is breathtaking and the castle itself is a marvel.  We merely went inside the foyer (which is cavernous) since a tour wasn't too cheap (we're doing our best to keep the trip on a shoestring budget), but still it was an amazing sight.  We made our way back down the mountain and through town and made sure to make our route pass over the Charles Bridge, the oldest bridge in Europe.  So after a less than inspiring start, we saw why people rave about Prague...it's beautiful, has amazing architecture, culturally and historically significant, relatively compact, and easy to navigate.

Even with the uninspiring start, I'd have to rank Prague as my favorite destination so far.

Up next...Vienna

Czech out my Pragueress!

I'm writing this from the Prague Plus hostel so come on, how could I resist the cheesy title? During our 7 hours exploring the Czech capital, Awal and I must have made that sort of joke a dozen times (not to mention we probably saw 100 T-shirts saying "Czech me out), and each time it was funny. I suppose 2 days is a sufficient run for that joke...

Anyway, I have a lot to catch up on.  First of all, my apologies for the lack of photo evidence of the journey...my available wifi has ranged from broken to semi-crappy, so uploading a photo hasn't been possible.  When we last left our dashing travelers, they had just boarded a flight out of Ireland...

England:

We arrived at Heathrow at around 10 and had hopes of getting to our hotel by 11 for a good night of rest.  Before I proceed, let me say that nights like this one are the reason that I hold so loosely to plans of any sort...they just end up getting messed up.  Due to a variety of circumstances, we didn't even leave the airport until around 11 and then found out that our hotel (that according to the booking website was 6 miles away) was on the complete opposite side of London.  We ended up arriving at the "Sleeping Beauty Motel" at around 1:45 and managed 3 solid hours of sleep. *Side note, it's a wonder that my hotel choices haven't caused considerable harm to anyone over the years. Nights at the Passport Inn, Rocky Top Motel, Knights Inn, Days Inn OBT Orlando, The Chesterton Miami, the aforementioned Sleeping Beauty Motel, and my favorite: the Holiday Golden Glades Boutique Hotel have each made me thankful for my fantastic immune system.  Good mercy I'm cheap... The next morning we managed to get to our meeting place on time...by the skin of our teeth. Our plans were to take the subway, but we failed to think that it could possibly be closed at 6AM.  Instead, our 25 pound cab ride provided a mini city tour (Big Ben, Trafalgar Square, London Bridge, the big-giant ferris wheel etc.) in addition to the desperately needed transportation.  Assembled on the Embankment next to London's Cleopatra's needle was our entire 27 member tour group.  The only two Americans strolled up, guitar in hand, and tried our best to not seem completely out of place.  This was like the first day of school...everyone standing around awkwardly making small talk, introducing themselves, sizing each other up, knowing that your actions and behaviors at this moment could impact your next three months.  I went with the "assume you're a cool kid and you are one" tactic...we'll see how that plays out in the long run.

Our first journey was a mere 1 hour jaunt to the coast where we boarded a ferry for France.  Aside from stumbling into a pseudo-arcade called "Thunderdome," I was mostly unamused by the ride and subsequently fell asleep on the bus through France. I suppose I can count having been to that country...I was physically within the boarders while conscious...for a solid 6 minutes even!  Around 3, we arrived at our first overnight stop: Brugge.

Belgium

Brugge is a town accustomed to hosting tourists and does well doing so.  Our hostel is situated within a stone's throw of city center where the towering Belfry of Brugge stands. This enormous medieval structure is the centerpiece to the beautifully ornate-well preserved town.  An 83 meter-366 step spiral staircase winds up its belly and for a mere 8 euros, any ole boy can climb to the top...including me.
Awal and I had no trouble, and made the most of the opportunity to give each other a hard time for past physical failures (me, for the time I passed out during a 20 mile hike, Awal for the time he wore down in a 2 on 2 basketball game and played worthless defense causing us to blow a 9-1 lead...and have to buy pizza for the winners).  The view is breathtaking.  From the 83 meter perch, I could admire nearly the entire town.   After sufficient time of basking in the view, Awal and I (with Rick and Chris, two of our new British friends) explored more of town and happened upon some sort of cheese festival.  Now, I can't say that I'd ever be able to find a cheese festival if I were looking for one, but by gosh I know one when I see one...

This looked a bit like a cheese only flea market with free samples at every turn.  We spent the better part of an hour walking by the booths and devouring the free offerings.  I could have stayed at each booth and learned a bit more about the craft of making cheese, but I was more amused by the next free sample.  Though we probably consumed enough cheese than is healthy for a normal human, we weren't deterred from having waffles with ice cream for dinner.  I had never previously eaten a waffle with ice cream, but it was fantastic. And now, of course, I can say that I've had a Belgian waffle in Belgium.  Awal and I meandered the streets for a few hours, saw a few shady characters, cracked a few jokes about cheese, admired some cars and called it a night.

Germany.

Morning came and we headed out for Heidelberg, Germany at around 8AM. We're only a few days in, and I'm catching up on the lack of sleep I've had since about 2008, so I'm doing a pretty terrible job of enjoying the countryside during our drives.  So far, Europe's rolling hills remind me of rural Kentucky; it's beautiful scenery, but nothing worth keeping me awake on the bus. Anyway, we rolled into Heidelberg in the early afternoon...ample time to roam about.  Heidelberg is similar to Brugge in that it's a compact, old-ornate town that's tourist friendly. That's mostly where the similarities end.  Brugge is flat, is surrounded by a river and has a web of interlocking canals, whereas Heidelberg is perched on the side of a quasi-mountain with the Neckar river dividing the town.  Shortly after our arrival, we traversed the streets and got acquainted with the town's charm.  I'd like to say that we were struck by the historical significance and cultural importance of Heidelberg and its region, but probably our most notable stop was at a H&M where Awal was determined to buy a new jacket. Before we went inside he said "Don't let me buy anything." I was a good friend and didn't let him...he might still be mad.

Back to relevance...
At the top of the quasi-mountain (really it's a hill by my standards) sits majestic Heidelberg Castle. This gorgeous structure has a way of looming ominously over the city.  Not like it represents anything particularly intimidating...just a strange feel.  Anyway, after a great German dinner of Bratwurst, sauerkraut, and potatoes,  we decided to climb the quasi-mountain and explore the castle at night.  I figured we'd be able to merely walk up and roam around the outside, but no...everything was open.  We spent two good hours checking out every room, tower, and staircase that wasn't locked down and even managed to scale a wall, climb through a tunnel and up under a bridge to an area that was actually locked down.  Even though I'm a grown man, there's still something exhilarating about being where you're not supposed to be.  Exhausted, and a bit muddy from the climb, that was all we had to give for Heidelberg...

Ok, that's all I have for now.  Please excuse my jumps between present/past tense, omitted articles, comma splices, and other goofy mistakes I make without an editor.  Hopefully I'll have my Prague update finished tomorrow...you can Czech out. Yep, still funny.

Ireland

       Only five days into the trip and I'm already overwhelmed by the number of stories I have to tell.  We landed in Dublin at 8AM on Friday a bit weary from the overnight flight, but with enough adrenaline to remain driven by our quixotic expectations.  Inspired by those expectations, we decided that the best way to get around a country to which neither of us have ever been (where they drive on the right side of the road btw) was to rent a car (for a mere 20 euros/day).  This ended up being a terrific idea, but initially, in the middle of Dublin’s 9AM rush hour madness it seemed idiotic.  Even so, we made it through unscathed to downtown Dublin, which proved to be a bit of a letdown.  Our morning and early afternoon was spent walking around town seeing the sights,  searching for a bank (we managed to go to 3 banks that had no money inside), griping about the cost of parking, and getting pages added to my passport at the US Embassy.   Throughout we met delightful people, but were mostly underwhelmed with Dublin as a whole.  From there, we headed out of town in hopes of stumbling upon a castle and finding a place to stay for the night…or perhaps running into Bono-who knows?  We jumped on the motorway and jumped on a few narrow countryside backroads.  At one point we encountered a semi on a road that seemed narrow for the Festiva itself,  but after pulling into some shrubs, we managed to avoid the behemoth.  After several more kilometers of aimlessly driving through the countryside and basking in Ireland’s natural beauty, we discovered a sign for a castle in the town of Ballbriggin.  This turned out to be a fantastic little town with friendly people at every turn. Also, it happened to have an inexpensive Bed and Breakfast with rooms available.  Can’t say that I ever expected to be sharing a room at a B&B with Awal, but it was cheap and had two twins, so we’re good.
After a great dinner at a local pub, a good night’s rest, and a traditional Irish breakfast (with enough cured meat to feed a hyena), we set off for the local castle.  Not really much noteworthy to say about the castle strangely enough…the building itself is gorgeous and the surrounding rolling hills are stereotypical Irish countryside (or at least how I imagined it).
In our last few hours in the country we made our way out to New Grange which, according to Beverly Murray (the lovely older lady we met in a coffee shop) is the one place you must visit if you’re in Ireland. Now, I managed to catch some of its significance, but I figure Wikipedia can do a better job explaining than me.  We made it back to Dublin just in time to return the Fiesta and catch our flight to London.  Two chaotic, jet lagged, sleep deprived, disoriented days in Ireland isn’t nearly enough.  I feel like I missed a ton and would love to return one day.

Sorry this is all I have at the moment...I'm trying to catch my writings up to my physical location and I'm not there yet...

Start in 2001...go.

In my 11th grade AP English Comp class, I wrote a practice college entrance essay for Villanova University.  Though I had no intentions of pursuing an education at Villanova (I knew of it primarily as the school that upset Patrick Ewing's Georgetown Hoyas in the 1985 NCAA basketball final), I did have an assignment to write a mini-autobiography for my hypothetical 30th class reunion. I wrote of my modestly successful football career (ended by a knee injury my Senior year), endeavors in various preaching ministries, graduate studies, and speaking engagements. Strangely, all the accolades, accomplishments, and endeavors in my 30 hypothetical years occurred entirely within the United States.  Not once in the entire 4 page essay did I mention leaving the USA for any reason.

As I'm about to embark on an 18 country-4 continent-across the world-bus trip called Oz-Bus 20, I cannot exactly recall how I went from a guy who thought international travel was unnecessary to one who wants to be a citizen of the world (no slight to my previous ambitions, they've just changed). Though the personal journey is a bit foggy, I do know that with each new country I visit and each new culture I experience, the world seems a little bit bigger, and I'm a increasingly aware of how little I truly do know about anything (aside from football trivia...got that covered).  So with 18 countries ahead and 92 days to travel, I'm eager to see more of how much I really don't know.  Reveling in one's own ignorance seems to be something reserved the Briscoe Darling-Uncle Rico-Michael Scott types, but I'd like to think that my case is a bit different. For me, becoming aware of the unknown is seeing the enormity of God.  His world is vast, mysterious, intricate and vivacious and I'm only aware of a shred.  Over the next three months, feel free to follow me from Ireland through the UK and Germany to Eastern Europe, Turkey, the Middle East, India, Nepal, SE Asia and Australia as I become aware of a slightly bigger shred of ignorance...it should be bliss.