There is always time for tea....

Since I have already written about my experiences in Budapest - the only time I have strayed from a chronological recount of my travels - we can skip ahead to.....TURKEY!!  Prepare yourself a bit....I was in Turkey 10 days and loved every single minute of it (well, minus one day that I was felled with stomach issues) - but I don't even remember that ;)  However, my stomach did not love Turkey as much as I did and it has taken all the way to Spain for it to regulate itself and get happy.  I will write about Cappadocia first and save Istanbul for a second post.

Most of you know that Turkey was definitely on the list of places to visit when I set out on this journey b/c one of my best friends, Joshua Shannon-Chastain, has been teaching English there for over a year.  My last time to see Josh was in August of last year as I flew to Portland to say goodbye to both him as he moved to Turkey and to the West Coast.  I was on my way to Wilmington at the time.  He and I had spoken about me getting over to visit at some point - but unlike many people who say those things....I was serious!

When Mom's accident occurred, I wanted to surround myself with my closest friends; especially those who could really understand what that loss meant to me and my everyday life.  Josh lost his beloved sister, Zoe, who had just turned 18, to a car accident.  If anyone can understand an abrupt loss, he can.   Since Josh and I had been roommates for a couple years, and due to his love of history, he had met and spent time with Mom on several occasions - one being a particularly memorable Thanksgiving that had our house on 77th and Fremont in Portland busting at the seams, quite literally.  It was me, Josh, Rob and our other roommate at the time, Patrick - Mom, brother Bill, Josh's Mom and Dad...and the dogs - Taggart, Banjo, Skunky and 1 other whose name escapes me...yep, 4 dogs.  We made it work though and it was a Thanksgiving to remember.  Josh's parents were the first people to send flowers to the house after the accident, and that sticks with me.  

I boarded a plane in Budapest bound for Turkey with 10 days to discover that vast and varied country.  I landed in Istanbul, "bought" my Visa and made my way to the line to get through Passport Control.  As I was headed that way - I was confronted with my first image being in a Muslim country had to offer...and one that had just finished Ramadan.  Scores...and I do mean "scores" of caftans, headcaps, burkhas, hijabs, prayer rugs, sandals, STENCH, man-dresses and the like stuffed into the airport...laying on the floor, mock playpens set up for kids, possessions piled into bags (not suitcases) and spread out all over the floor, cooking equipment set up!!, and "shouting".  I admit...it was intimidating.  Definitely out of my element.  And if I didn't mention it...STENCH!!  It's my blog, I can say what I want.  PC be damned.  I'm definitely not saying that all Muslims stink, but these certainly did...and not just stunk...REEKED!!  The kind of horrible stink that gets up in your nose and wants to set up camp.  You know what I'm talking about.  Mucking out goat pens at the Farm was more pleasant than this walk through humanity.  But okay, enough. I know I sound cruel, just painting the picture.

Got through Passport Control, retrieved my bag and met Josh outside.  We were only in Istanbul that night before heading back to the airport at "Oh dark thirty" the next morning to board our plane for Cappadocia, an area of Turkey I was thrilled to be going.  Cappadocia has received a lot of attention in the travel magazines lately.  A place that looks "other worldly", is famous for its "Cave Hotels", has ancient roots, is filled with geologic marvels similar to the Hoodoos in Bryce Canyon Nat'l Park in Utah, and provided shelter to the fleeing Christians during Roman times.  A treasure trove of history, hiking and sight-seeing....and I had 3 nights there...in a Cave Hotel!!

Before I get into Cappadocia - I will let you know that arriving in Turkey ushered in the second, but hopefully last stressful period around money.  American Express had suspended my card while I was in Poland for "suspicious activity" (I had purchased the flight to Turkey online) but that was easily cleared up with a phone call.  Upon arriving in Turkey, I was "welcomed" with an email from Bank of America alerting me to "suspicious activity" and to call them immediately.  I did, confirmed all the charges (again, purchasing flights online) but was told that my card STILL needed to be confiscated...leaving me with almost NO cash. The nightmare I thought I was going to experience in Budapest was coming true in Turkey. The guy on the phone - forever now known as "The Idiot" - told me I could make one last withdrawal at the ATM before my card would no longer be good and that they were expediting and shipping me a new card to Istanbul.  I was skeptical that BoA could actually get me a card to Istanbul, but that was the only option I had.  Went down to the ATM, put my card in, asked for money, was told "No" and my card was eaten by the ATM...leaving me in a predominantly "cash only" country with VERY little cash and no means of getting more.  Nor could I call "The Idiot" back at BoA to tell him his little "last ditch" ploy didn't work and to come up with something else.  So, a call to American Express allowed me to set my credit card up as an ATM card after tracking down my account number and routing information...but it was only good for a one time withdrawal of $500.  Again...in a cash country...$500 doesn't go as far as you would think.  Also, American Express is RARELY accepted overseas due to the high fees they charge their merchants, so finding an ATM with an AMEX symbol on it was going to be tough.  Thankfully, we found the one in Goreme (Cappadocia) that had one, I got my cash and prayed that BoA would have my card in Istanbul when I returned.  They did not.  "The Idiot" made a mistake with the address and my replacement card was sent to Franklin (real helpful)...even though BoA KNEW I was traveling and had my entire tentative itinerary.  Sigh.  This was not resolved for another TWO WEEKS.  BoA had to send me emergency money via Western Union to Istanbul...my card finally reached me in Florence.  But not before it was sent to the WRONG address AGAIN in Italy.  Sigh.  I am so thankful that ridiculousness is over!!  Back to Cappadocia - sorry for the long, seemingly unimportant explanation; BUT, it was important to write about the $$ snafu b/c it defined every decision in Turkey!!!

Checked into our rooms...and I again squealed and jumped up and down because I LOVED my room so much.  A snug room with a rounded ceiling, an antique bed and a traditional turkish bathroom - i.e. no "defined" shower, just a shower head with lots of space around it - completed my "Cave Room"....and the view outside my room...SIGH.  When I am finally able to post pics upon returning home, you will all understand.  I could see for miles...and there was a swimming pool outside my room.  Perfection!

First order of business...booking our activities.  I booked a Hot Air Balloon Ride, a Horseback Riding Tour (which I later canceled so I could spend THAT money on gifts for other people....you will see who you are when I return...) and the "Green" tour which was a full day excursion around the area.  Next order of business...Money, then Food, finally Sight-Seeing.

Remember - I am in a Muslim country - so 5 times a day, the call to prayer goes out from all the Mosques.  This takes a little getting used to but is also a good excuse not to wear a watch, b/c these guys are precise (and it is always men doing the call, of course).  As a true Westerner, this call only sounds like noise.  I could distinguish a word here and there, but not much.  However, I found a translation and here is what is said (forgive any typos or iPad auto-corrects...you get the point)...

Alla Akbar
Ashadu an Iailaha illaliah
Ashadu anna Muhammad ar-rasul Allah
Hayya alassalaah
Hayya alaifalah
Allah Akbar
Laa ilaha illallah

God is Great
I profess that there is no God but Allah
I profess that Muhammad
is the messenger of God
Let's come to prayer
Let's come to success
God is Great
There is no God but Allah

I don't know if it is said once or a couple times...I think a couple times, but I never bothered to ask that little bit of information.  I'm sure I could Google it - but I'm cool with staying in the dark.  I can still hear the call if I shut my eyes and that is good enough for me.

First - to acquaint you with the area, a little lesson on the geology...

The Geologic History of Cappadocia
Sixty million years ago the Taurus Mountains were formed and in their wake, the massive volcanoes later called Erciyes and Hasan.  These, and others, erupted over millions of years and covered the surrounding plateau with layers of ash that developed into the soft volcanic rock called "Tuff". In some places, the tuff was overlaid by basalt lava.  The wind, ice, rain and snow worked away at the rocks.  Where there was no basalt, the soft rock was eroded into beautiful, graceful shapes and valleys...and cliffs appeared. Where there was basalt, it protected the tuff under it from the weather so columns of tuff were left standing under their basalt caps while everything else eroded away.  That's how the "Fairy Chimneys" were formed.

When the first people came to Cappadocia, they wisely decided to move into these cones of rock.  The rock is soft so it can be excavated, even with primitive tools, at around one cubic meter a day.  Cave rooms are warm in the winter and cool in the summer so they provide the perfect living environment for the extreme Cappadocian weather.

Everywhere you look in Cappadocia, you see these "Fairy Chimneys" in all different shades of cream, yellow, pink and red.  This is what looks similar to the Hoodoos of Bryce.  But instead of in Bryce where they taper up at the top, many of the chimneys in Cappadocia have  what looks like a big, flat rock balanced on top of the spire.  The landscape is quite dramatic.

Our first sight-seeing stop after lunch took us to Kocabag winery where we sampled some lovely Turkish wines.  What I noticed about Turkish wines is that they are very simple - basically a Red or a White table wine.  This doesn't mean they are bad; on the contrary, they are quite good.  But they are designed to go with many dishes as opposed to a certain category and they are not "Big" wines...not a lot of nose or tasting notes.  For those of you that know me well, you will gasp to learn I purchased a bottle of the Rose...i.e. Pink Wine.  I took one sip of it and was startled!!  It tasted spicy and peppery.  Cold, but very refreshing and NOT SWEET like you'd expect.  It defied everything I have always thought about Pink Wine.  

From the winery, we trudged up the hill to Uchisar Castle - a natural stone fortress.  After climbing to the top - can't remember 400 ft. or so - we had a spectacular view of Goreme, Uchisar and all the surrounding areas.  What struck me were all the poor Muslim women making the same hike up as me...up and up and up steps carved into stone and definitely not even or smooth...in HIGH HEELS!!  I was in running shoes and shorts and was sweating.  Trust me, they were struggling as well...but to have to do that in HEELS!!  No way, Jose!!  After taking many, many pictures at the top, we hiked back down into the valley that leads up to Uchisar, trying to figure out a way back into Goreme.  It just happened (yeah, right!!) that there was a street side "market" selling all kinds of junk and trinkets.  We browsed this for a hot minute...I bought a bag and a sampled my first array of turkish nuts and dried fruits (YUM - especially the peanuts dipped in honey and rolled in sesame seeds...Whole Foods needs to stock these little treats!)...and we waited for a bus.  And we waited...and we waited.  One might be so cynical as to think the waiting is to encourage buying.  Not willing to give up and walk the several kilometers back to Goreme...I knew that it sounded like a good idea to start with, but after a kilometer or two in that heat, we would be hating life...we waited.  The bus finally arrived and we made it back to town.  The only item on my agenda that night was diving in that crisp, cold swimming pool and washing the dust off that had turned me a pale shade of yellow...which is exactly what I did as the hotel people cooked us up a delicious dinner of grilled chicken, rice, peppers, soup and salad.  Good end to a good day.  I went to bed early because the next morning, a bus was picking me up at 5am for my very first Hot Air Balloon Ride!!!!

What can I say about the Hot Air Balloon Ride - it was everything I expected it to be!!  Sunrise over the area, the sky dotted with all the other colorful balloons carrying people like me through the sky, Fairy Chimneys for miles and miles, seeing the landscape change as the sun hit it first thing in the morning, and a funny balloon operator that knew it was also a show! - i.e. "Whose first time is this in a Hot Air Balloon??"  Hands raise.  "Me too!!" he hoots and hollers.  Ba-hahahahaha.  Thanks for getting me up and down safely, guy!

We landed after an hour and three minutes in the air, were given a glass of champagne to distract us as they took the balloon apart and loaded it onto a truck...and, were given "official" certificates that we had completed our Hot Air Balloon Ride...with our names on it ;)) Glad my Euro was going towards something worthwhile...a certificate!!  Also, a guy came around hocking pictures (not included in the fee) that had been taken as we climbed in and prepared for take-off.  Mine were kind of cute...but I RUINED this poor couple's next to me in the basket.  It is a great picture of them...and then there is me in the background making some inexplicable face that is impossible to miss.  I felt horrible!!!  But could really only laugh...too bad for them!  Back to Goreme and my cave room for a mid-morning nap.  I was supposed to go horseback riding later that afternoon and didn't want to fall asleep on my horse.

A nap refreshed me and I went out into the town to do some walking around, grab lunch and hopefully see some "cheap" souvenirs (since $$ is an issue).  Unfortunately, there were many, many great things to buy and I knew I would regret not getting some things for friends/family...ok, me as well, I'm not to - tally altruistic...so I went back to the hotel and canceled my horseback ride so that I could go shopping.  I've ridden plenty of horses - always enjoy it, but always pay for it the next day.  Shopping sounded better.  This introduced me to my "Cappadocian Boyfriend", Mustafa.  I found some lovely things at his shop and spent over an hour there trying to make my decisions.  Mustafa was lovely and ended up getting me a discount at my future Hamam experience the next night, a significant discount on a gorgeous hand-crafted silver "Cleopatra" style necklace at a jewelry store he took me to(they accepted Credit Cards - woo-hoo!) AND took me for a hike on my last day through Love Valley!  Great person to have met and be-friended.  Not to mention the many cups of tea I shared with him and his friends who owned the cafe next to his shop.  As Mustafa said and Turkey exudes..."There is always time for tea."

Next day, The Green Tour and The Hamam...

The Green Tour was a nice comprehensive way to get an idea of the history surrounding the area...the Underground City, a hike through the Ihara Valley, a visit to the Selime monastery carved into a rock and the mystery behind the local love and devotion to Pigeons.  Yep, pigeons.  Those hated birds in Europe and America (well, they are not hated in Venice...but stay tuned for that story!)

Our first stop on the tour was a lookout over Pigeon Valley.  The Cappadocians revere the pigeon unlike most places in the world.

There is a legend that Cappadocia was once inhabited by fairies (Peri) but when the first people came to live here the Peri did not want to share with them so they turned themselves into pigeons and went to live high up in the rocks.  Hence, the name "Fairy Chimneys". The soil here is largely made up of rock, rich in minerals but poor in bulk.  Pigeon droppings make a fertilizer for the soil.  The people organized the collection of pigeon droppings by attacting the birds into hollowed out fairy chimneys where they could roost and drop their waste in a place from which it could be easily collected. 

Pigeon eggs were also important.  They were used in making the paint that decorates the rock churches as well as the actual Pigeon Houses.  The paint attracts the birds.  Some are simply white but others are elaboratley painted with intricate and colorful examples of Islamic art.  Unlike other cities - these pigeons are not constantly up in your business.  They have their own houses and pretty much hang there.  Fine by me.

Next, the Underground City (Derinkuyu)- Nobody knows how many underground cities there are in Cappadocia although the number has been estimated around 300.  Not rooms....entire cities that stretch for miles underground!  Some say there must be one underground city for every above ground settlement.  This subterranean way of life was made possible by several different factors..
1. The nature of the rock
2. The extremes of the climate 
3. The religion of the inhabitants

The Rock - The dramatic landscape of Cappadocia is formed from volcanic lava, which is easy to work but dries to a hard surface strong enough to allow the excavation of wide rooms with horizontal ceilings.  This tuff (remember the tuff from the geology lesson above) goes down as well as up, so Cappadocia is one of the few places in the world where it is actually possible to live safely 20 levels (or more) below ground without the benefit of high technology.  I think I went down about 10 levels...and it was FAR, FAR down.  I cannot even imagine another 10!!

The Climate - The weather in Cappadocia can be dramatic with temperature variations from 30 below to 40 above (this is in Celsius) over 6 months.  The temperature in the underground caves is always between about 7 and 15 degrees no matter what is happening outside so they are the perfect environment for living as well as for storing produce and keeping animals.  Yes - they kept animals WAY far underground when under attack!!  I saw the rooms where they kept them...I think there was still an odor, but that could have been from the mass of humanity down there with me.  Even though I do get claustrophobic in places (Karolina can attest to this in the Uprising Museum in Warsaw) - I didn't get that feeling below ground.  Strange.

The Religion - The underground cities could be as much as 4000 years old but the first written mention of them occurs in the works of Xenophon who traveled to the Cappadocia area around 2400 years ago.  Maybe they started out as storage areas - but they were certainly extended, developed and brought into use as refuges from Christians fleeing from the Romans.  Right until the 14th century, when it was incorporated into the Ottoman Empire, Cappadocia was a hotbed of war and strife.  During those centuries, the locals often needed to escape from invaders into the underground cities.  They were never intended to be permanent homes but were built to withstand attack and shelter whole communities for months at a time.

It was a neat tour.  We had a pretty good guide named, Haroun, who was fresh out of tourism school, so I think as he gets a few more years under his belt - he'll pick up more tidbits to share with us tourists.  Also, I was on a joint Turkish/English tour (not sure how this happened) so he had to say everything twice.  I noticed (and called him out a couple times) that he missed some details and facts along the way having to switch languages.  I didn't mean this critically, only as a way to help him with his guide duties.  I can't even imagine conducting tours in 2 different languages.  AND - the Turkish language has many more syllables than ours does - so it always sounded like he was saying more stuff to them ;))

From the Underground City, we went on to the Ihara Valley for some light hiking, a cave church viewing and lunch...

The Ihara Valley is a glacier cut canyon about 15 kilometers long and several hundred meters deep. It has some of the best rock churches in Cappadocia with about 20 in various states of repair and preservation.  We saw some beautiful frescos in the one we visited.  A short little jaunt along the river bed brought us to our lunch destination - perched on the river. I decided to be adventurous and select the fish...since we were on a river....bad idea. It literally tasted like dirty mud (not that mud is ever clean).  Oh well, the grilled vegetables were good - especially these long, green peppers that are served at every meal.  I bought a couple of seed packets in Istanbul...hope they will flourish next Spring!

A short drive later out of the Ihara Valley took us to the Selime Monastery - another "cave church" of sorts.  We got to climb all over this place for about half and hour - I could have stayed for 1/2 a day.  Not that many of you reading this have been to Valley of the Fire out in Las Vegas - but this place reminded me a lot of that.  Only major difference was the color.  Valley of the Fire is a deep red and Selime is a pale gold.  Wherever a particularly huge and impressive rock formation coincided with the need to extend the Christian community - a new monastery was founded.  It is said that the first Star Wars film was shot in the area :)))  And I do mean the ORIGINAL...none of this nonsense with Jar Jar Binks!

We were behind schedule at this point, so our stop at the Onyx factory was hurried.  We were rushed downstairs where a guy carved up a raw piece of onyx into the shape of an egg.  Then he took it over to his polishing station and did what you expect....polished it.  This all took a total of about 3 minutes.  My one useful fact was that there are many different colors of onyx.  I only knew about black.  In fact, most onyx looks like marble, with lots of veins - and the more "veined" it is, the farther down in the earth it is found,  the older it is and the more translucent it is.  I could have spent more time here...but that is the rub with organized tours...the schedule.

We were dropped back off in Goreme.  I checked in with Josh and Elif and then made my way back to Mustafa's shop so he could take me to the Hamam and get me a discount.  Oh, the Hamam.....

The Hamam, a brief history....
Hamams were an integral part of the Tukish-Ottoman culture for centuries with their roots lying in Greek and Roman culture.  However, the Ottomans can be credited with turning the bathhouse into a place of luxurious feasting, fun and frolic (as well as a place to get clean, of course).  In Ottoman times, every district of every town or city worth a name had a public hamam for the residents to use.  Better off people had small hamams in their homes for private use.  Most of the hamams were spacious enough to have separate areas for the sexes by declaring some days to be "Women Only" days (this is what I enjoyed at the Rudas Bath in Budapest...but nothing like what I experienced in Turkey).  In a society where modesty and religious observances were the cornerstones of daily life, the hamams wer perhaps the only place where people, especially women, could literally let their hair down!

The religious importance of the hamam has its roots in the frequent exhortations in the Koran to keep high standards of personal hygiene (I found this odd, considering the ever present stench).  However, the contrast between the straight-laced outside world and the laid-back steamy atmosphere of the hamam made them the place to meet your friends, catch up on the gossip, make business deals, find a new daughter-in-law and be entertained by musicians and dancers.  Many men worried about their wives "losing their virtue" by visiting the public hamam, but if he didn't have enough money to build her a private one - too bad, so sad.  The men couldn't keep their wives from going to the hamam!!

For the Ottomans, and for later Turks, getting ready to go for a day trip to the hamam meant finding, preparing and packing up towels, brushes, henna, kohl, special soap and mother of pearl inlaid pattens.  Then, there was lots of food and drink.  If there were servants in the household, they would be taken along and some people even took their pets!  After their bath and massage, the ladies would tidy their eyebrows, dye their hair, hands and feet with henna and remove unwanted hair with either wax, sugar or a thread of cotton.

So - my Hamam experience....

I had read about what to expect online, but that did not prepare me for what was in store.  I was escorted down to the locker rooms and given a red plaid "towel" (I bought one as a souvenir) with some ugly, croc-like slippers.  I asked in "mime" if I was to take everything off or leave on my bikini bottom.  She said "leave bikini on" and motioned to her southern parts.  Okey Dokey.  I went back out to the waiting area and was told to "sit" - where a woman appeared with a bowl of sludge.  She slathered a mud mask on  my face and then directed me through another door saying, "You go steam".  Hmmmmm...alright again.  I stepped into a room that made my mouth fall open.  Huge, circular, and white marble with a soaring ceiling and a big octagon-shaped, raised marble slab in the center of the room.  Around the walls are little "seats" carved into the marble next to individual sinks.  Nobody was in there at the moment so I passed through into the sauna.  Inside were 10 or 12 women of varying ages - all with mud masks on - and all clutching their little red, plaid towels to their chests.  They greeted me with "Bonjour" and upon realizing they were French, thought it odd that they seemed so modest with the towels.  The French are known for having few inhibitions.  I didn't know anyone, so I let my towel drop and steamed away topless.  The French eventually left, but I stayed a bit longer...really feeling that sweat from the Green Tour making its way out of my pores.  When my mask started dripping all over me, I figured it was time to exit...and see what was next.

I exited the Sauna and stood there a little shocked for a few seconds.  The placid, empty, white marble room I had passed through earlier was now filled with stark naked women.  The only clothes (scant at best) were on the "cleaners" (and by this, I mean people who clean YOU), one of whom was belly-dancing and shrieking at the top of her lungs on the big marble stone.  It was then I realized....I am going to be totally naked in front of more than 20 strangers.  Hmmmmmm.  Well, when in Turkey, I guess!  I exited the room, peeled off my bikini bottoms and tossed them in my locker and headed back for naked time...

Steamy, steamy, steamy the place had become.  You are given an exfoliating mit and you sit by your own little sink and wait to be called onto the marble slab.  Then, you spread your red plaid towel out and lie down, face-up on top of it and hand your exfoliating mit to your "cleaner".  You are lying on this slab with 8 other women and another 10 or so watching all this happen to you.  The cleaner takes a little metal bowl and slops you with warm water a couple times.  Then, she puts on the mit and begins SCRUBBING you.  Not the way we do in the shower...I mean, SCRUBS you.  SCRUBS you raw...you see your dead skin coming off in little ribbons (gross, yes).  She scrubs your boobs and your southern private parts, then directs you to turn over, slops you with more water and attacks your back, butt and legs.  SCRUBBING!!!!  You are doused with more water and told to turn back over.

Next up - the Bubble massage.  This is the coolest!  They have these little bags that look like laundry bags which they dip in a bucket with water and some soap.  They swing the bags back and forth for a couple seconds then gather the top together somehow forming a "bag'o'bubbles" which they then squirt and sluice all over you.  This takes place a couple times to make sure you are totally covered in bubbles.  It feels amazing!!  The bubbles ooze and tickle their way over your skin, sliding over your legs and stomach, down your shoulders......Then, the massage.  Ahhhhhhhhhhh...you are massaged and massaged and massaged.  Front and Back - more bubbles for your back, of course!!   At this point...the ultimate in relaxation....and just as you are about to fall asleep.  You are doused with water again...and then sent to another room for your oil massage.  ANOTHER massage...after the bubble massage!!  Ok, if you say so!!  At the end of this one, you feel like a limp noodle.  You are directed to the "rinse-off" area to get most of the oil off your skin and then you are taken to the "relax" area to enjoy tea, juice or water.  I dozed off for a couple minutes here - totally savoring the ultimate feeling of relaxation.  You are warned not to really eat before visiting the hamam because the environment can be hot and uncomfortable on a full stomach.  However, you leave RAVENOUS!!!  I got dressed and stumbled back out into the Cappadocian night ready to tear an animal to pieces.  Instead, I made my way back over to my buddy, Mustafa, had some more tea and gratefully accepted the snacks he prepared....I don't even remember what they were I was in such a fog.  More tea...and that concluded my day of the Green Tour and my night at the Hamam.  

I slept like a baby - who wouldn't - and awoke with the prospect of a hike before me.  My buddy Mustafa took me back up to the Onyx factory where I purchased the silver necklace mentioned above.  We then headed for Honey Valley - but first, a cup of fresh-squeezed orange juice from a lone kid on the side of a "road" with a massive juicer.  Definitely an entrepreneur!!  We hiked down into the valley and made our way along the bottom - beautiful sight after beautiful sight was around every corner (don't worry...I took LOTS of pictures)...we stopped every now and then to eat some of the fresh fruit off the trees - apples and peaches - or to grab a tomato off a vine...and continued to Love Valley.  Love Valley is aptly named and is a big joke in the area.  What can I say....all the "spires" are hugely phallic and look exactly what you think they look like...I won't say the word....but huge male genitalia.  There is no getting around it.  It is what it is.  This is one of the most impressive Valleys in the area with a huge concentration of these formations - and gave me that feeling of "I am one of the few people in this world who will actually see this special place".  It is the same feeling I had in Belize last Christmas while hiking through the ATM cave.  With an incredible view before us, we stopped at this random truck with a canopy and couches set up and had freshly-squeezed pomegranate juice while kicking back on the couches (yes, random couches set up in this desert valley...and they were clean!) to get out of the heat for an hour.  Refreshed - we plowed on and got back to the main road - only a couple kilometers from Goreme.  Thankfully, a friend of Mustafa's happened by in his car, picked us up and whipped us back into town - deposited us at Mustafa's shop and delivered us Turkish Pizza a couple minutes later.  I was FAMISHED!!  

Food and Tea set me to rights, I went and grabbed my bag from the Cave Hotel and settled in to wait the hour for the bus to haul me back to the airport in Neveshir.  Cappadocia had come to an end.  I am amazed at everything I packed into 4 days and 3 nights.  And that was just the beginning of Turkey!  I still had a week to go in Istanbul...

But that is the next post...I know this was a long one, but Cappadocia is one of the high points of this trip.  Spectacular scenery, unforgettable experience at the hamam and Turkish hospitality that allowed me to really get close to the local culture.

I probably should have been writing about what I have been reading along the way - sometimes when people ask me where I have been or when I was in a certain area, it seems I'm better able to recall the information based on the book I was reading.  In Cappadocia, I finished reading "War and Peace" - OMG, one of the best books I have EVER read - and moved on to something I would NEVER have thought I'd get so into..."Game of Thrones"...and so began the addiction to the series, "A Song of Ice and Fire". I have now finished all 5 books in the series and now know how those fans have felt for years, waiting on Mr. Martin to get it together to write the next book.  His latest just came out, so I have a while to go...ahhhhhh.

Next up, Istanbul.  I promise it won't be as long!!

 

Arbeit mach Frei

Sigh, I knew this was going to happen.  As soon as you get lax with a "diary" - it just haunts you.  And, since I am such a procrastinator, I keep telling myself that I'm going to write this on the next train, or at the next cafe, or the next night, or ___, or ____.  Consequently, it is now officially October (when did it become October??!!) and I am just now finally writing about Krakow and Auschwitz....which I saw in August...mid-August at least!

Back in 2009, I had contemplated trying to get over to Krakow so I could visit Auschwitz - morbid, perhaps...but one of those things that "should" be done, in my opinion and in Mom's.  It didn't happen in 2009 due to the time constraint, but it definitely did here in 2011 - but with the sacrifice of Prague...once again -  I just can't seem to get to Prague.  Even better, I was accompanied from Warsaw to Krakow by Karolina, Pawel's wife.  I told her she didn't have to babysit me but she insisted that she needed a "get-away".  Hey, having someone to handle the language is always welcome!  I knew I wouldn't have much time in Krakow b/c I was on a bit of a schedule with Turkey looming - I had a flight booked - so could only spend 2 days and 1 night there.  I would have liked to visit the famous Salt Mines in the area as well, but with only 1 full day, Auschwitz it was.

But first - Krakow.

Krakow is absolutely lovely.  Unlike Warsaw, it was not destroyed during the war, so everything you see is original.  Yet another UNESCO World Heritage Sight - I've really been racking them up!  Krakow was the capital of Poland and the country's largest city for nearly six centuries.  Polish rulers resided at Wawel (Wah-wel - yes, one sounds silly saying the name of this place) Castle until the Court and Parliament moved to Warsaw in 1609.  But, Krakow was still considered the un-official capital since rulers were still crowned and buried in the cathedral on Wawel Hill.

Karolina and I arrived late in Krakow, b/c the train was late....of course.  Contrary to many American preconceptions about the efficiency of trains, etc. in Europe - from a "boots on the ground" person....they are late about as often as planes are.  Depending on your luck with planes - this can be a little or a lot.  There is just no telling.

So - we arrived at our hostel - Flower Hostel - and checked into our room.  We were surprised to see an "old man" in our room with his shirt off and we both flashed a look at each other that said, "Uh Oh".  I went and asked if we could change rooms, but the place was full.  The guy must have heard this question b/c he then walked right up to us and introduced himself.  His name was Yuri, he lived in Israel, was a doctor and had made Aliyah from Russia to Israel 20 years ago.  Karolina and I both felt bad for judging someone so harshly.  Yuri, Karolina and I ended up having a wonderful evening together full of stimulating conversation - of course, Israel was high on the topic list b/c I am fascinated with all things Israeli for some reason!!

But - before our evening out - I saw a few sights....

1. Wawel Castle - quite cool, but really just a big castle.  Dark colors, leather on the walls, ornately carved and gilded ceilings, enormous marble fireplaces, Italian paintings, Flemish tapestries (these were massive) and painted friezes.  The one thing we managed to miss - and I don't know how because I was constantly on the lookout for it - was the "Hall of Heads" - so named because of the many, many, many little carved wooden heads attached to the ceiling.  Totally disappointing that I didn't see these - especially after getting a glance at the postcards in the Gift Shop.  C'est la vie.

2. St. Mary's Church - Impressive gothic towers set at an angle on the east side of the Market Square.  The left-hand tower is topped by a spire added in 1478.  It served as the city's watch tower and still today a bugle call is played every hour.  The bugle call has a cool story ....

In the 13th century, the city was constantly under attack by the Tartars.  There was a lookout posted and one day, he saw a particularly large contingent of the enemy bearing down on the town.  He loudly started sounding the alarm, but was shot through the neck by an arrow, abruptly ending his warning.  Today, each time the bugle call is sounded, it trails off and ends just as it did when the lookout was shot with the arrow.

Inside, the church's greatest treasure is the huge altarpiece - 39ft. high - by Veit Stoss, who lived in Krakow from 1477 to 1496 (like you really care about that little nugget, right?)  The outer panels show scenes from the lives of Christ and the Virgin.  The middle shutters are opened each day at noon to reveal the huge carved centerpiece, "The Assumption of the Virgin".  There is also a neat crucifix also by Mr. Stoss know as the "Slacker Crucifix" - I think something might have gotten lost in the translation on this one....

3. Market Square - It is said to be the largest town square in Europe (not sure I believe this one....) and is divided in two by the monstrous Cloth Hall.  Another statue of the "famous" poet - Adam Mickiewitz (saw one in Warsaw as well...they love this guy).  

There was a festival going on in the Square while I was there - saw lots of folk-dancing from the surrounding countries, reveled in the massive quantities of delicious Polish food and beer (had some of the best grilled mushrooms of my life) and closed my eyes to inhale the aroma of burning wood.  It was sweet and pungent at the same time.

While at the Square - I had what qualifies as the "strangest" experience of my travels.  I sat down with a "Gypsy" (not one of the ubiquitous Roma people pan-handling) - a bona fide, grizzly old women wearing a hat with branches and leaves sticking out of it.  If ever a person looked like a witch - this one did!!  Karolina saw her and wanted to go talk to her b/c she had received a reading from "Gypsy" (that was the name we gave her...trying to stick with this European mentality of calling things what they actually are...i.e. Cloth Market) - 13 years ago and everything Gypsy told her came true.  I have never believed in this hocus-pocus but decided to have a reading done for fun.  Karolina had to translate b/c Gypsy did not speak English.  I won't go into everything Gypsy told me - but suffice it to say - I left with ice in my veins and tears running down my face.  She knew things that are just too creepy for words.  On the "bright" side - depending how you look at it (ha ha) - I am supposed to give birth to 2 boys and will meet a widowed man with a son.  3 boys in Bethy's future....Bah-Hahahahaha....The gods are certainly laughing at that one!!

That concluded the Krakow part of the Krakow trip.  A lovely 1/2 day of sightseeing, a night of delicious food and as previously mentioned -- great conversation.  Next day - Auschwitz.

Rather than try to describe Auschwitz - I am going to type out my "cleaned up" list of notes so that you can learn what I learned about this horrific place.  Whereas, the notes may seem out of order, this is how they were presented based on our tour.  What I will say is that it was a sobering and sad day.  I barely spoke to anyone during the 6 hours (only once or twice to clarify my notes with the guide), nobody laughed and nobody smiled.  Everybody looked stricken

1. The site of Auschwitz was selected for 3 reasons...
a. There were already buildings in place - barracks for the military.
b. There was a good train connection between the East and West.
c. It was in the true middle of Europe.

2. There are 2 periods of Auschwitz.
a. From 1940 - 1942, it was "only" a concentration camp - meaning a work camp to hold and isolate political prisoners.
b. 1942 onwards - a place of mass extermination.

3. The original gate that say "Arbeit mach Frei" - ironically, "Work sets you free" or "Works makes Freedom" that one sees in photos is no longer in place - it is a reproduction.  The original was stolen in 2009.  It was recovered but will go to a museum.  5 guys stole it and cut it into 3 pieces  This infuriated me...especially after I had snapped a few pictures.  Awful.

4. An orchestra played every night as the people returned from "work".  There had to be the exact same number of people returning that had left 12 hours ago or there would be serious reprisals.  Consequently, the workers had to carry the dead back to be counted.

5. Sept. 1941 is the first time cyanide gas was experimented with - they used people brought in from the transit camps all over Europe and from the Ghettos in the East.

6.March 1942 - the first mass transits begin from Slovakia.  A general total of 1.3 million people are believed to have been transported there.  At Birkenau (later established as an extermination center) - only 25% of people were selected to go "work" thereby guaranteeing they were registered. No children under 13, no cripples, nobody over the age of 55, no pregnant women and no one deemed "unfit" to work got registered....only killed.

7. 90+ people were crowded into cars designed to hold only 30 or so, with no food or water to suffer journeys ranging from 5 to 17 days.  Ironically, Greek Jews had to pay for this journey.

8. At Birkenau - 800 were gassed at a time, between 340 and 2000 corpses were burned per day.

9. 5 pictures were smuggled out of Birkenau as a cry for help - only 3 are you able to discern anything.  Help did not come.  It was not believed that these atrocities were actually happening.

10. 5-7 Kilos of pellets would kill 1,500 people.

11. There was a room where no photography was allowed - there are 2000 kilograms of hair piled behind glass - this is believed to have come from 30,000 victims.  The hair was used to produce clothes and socks for the German soldiers on the submarines.

12. Prisoners were allowed a weight limit of 25 Kilos to bring with them for their "re-settlement".  Warehouses were established to house all the things brought - shaving kits, pots and pans, suitcases, sewing kits, cutlery, glasses, prayer shawls,prostheses, shoes, etc.  One case was the size of s swimming pool and held only the pots and pans.  People were told to write their names on their suitcases so they could easily find their bags after their "showers".  You can see the suitcases today with their names still on them.

13. The warehouses were named "Canada" - b/c it "sounded like a nice place".

14. In the summer, new prisoners were blasted with scalding water and in the winter with freezing water.  Then, in winter, they would have to stand outside in -25 degree Celsius for 30 minutes to 4 hours waiting for clothes.

15. Auschwitz is the only place prisoners were tattooed.

16. Instead of saying "Medical" experiment, the guide ALWAYS said "Pseudo-Medical" experiment.  I think this is a good distinction to make.

17. Prisoners were called "Muslims" b/c after months of starvation, their heads became too heavy for the atrophied muscles in their necks to hold up, so they always looked like they were bowing.  There was a very moving statue in one of the barracks to this.

18. Several hallways have hundreds of individual picture after picture of the prisoners staring out at you.  You want to look at each and every one of them but there are too many.  It did not seem appropriate to snap of picture of this hallway.  Many of them had broken noses, split lips, disfigured faces due to beatings and all were shaved and gaunt.

19. Josef Mengele loved to do his "pseudo-medical" experiments on twins and triplets.  At this point, I noticed that our guide was CONSTANTLY saying, "Please come closer" - he was doing this so we didn't get mixed up with other groups, but after a while, you just want to say, "NO! I don't want to come any closer.  You are only going to show me or tell me horrible things!"  Josef Mengele also experimented with radiation and X-rays...he would direct an X-ray at male and female genitals for 20-30 minutes at a time.  If the person was badly burned, they were killed.  He injected chemicals into women's genitals - sometimes 400 women at a time.

20. Building 11 is where prisoners were sentenced to torture cells or to the firing squad.  The different torture cells were called the "Starvation Cell", the "Standing Cell" and the "Dark Cell".  The "Standing Cell" measured 90 square centimeters and 4 people were forced into it.  This is smaller than the smallest toilet stall you have ever been in.  Most people did not last more than a couple days in this cell.  They would have to stand all night, not sleep, go to work for 12 hours, get no food and go back to the Standing Cell for another night.

21. Buildings 19, 20, 21 and 28 were the "hospitals".  But, they were not places of healing, just a place where people waited to be killed.

22.  On a "bright" note, the commander of this place, Hesse, was executed here on April 16th, 1947.  His date of death had to be changed because people were trying to lynch him.  He, his wife and their 5 children (one of whom was born there) lived at Auschwitz.  His wife said living there was "like Paradise" and they had anything and everything they could possibly want.  

23. As you go to the first Gas Chamber, the guide told us that if we had any questions, we better ask them now because there is no talking in the Gas Chamber and there is a very plainly worded sign that begs for "respect in this sacred place where such atrocities were committed."

24. There is something about that place that I will never be able to describe - it is not the physical space, which is unremarkable - it is just stone.  But as soon as you step into the space, tears just well up behind your eyes and your insides turn colder than they already are.  You feel the weight of thousands of screams and pure agony pressing iun you....it is unreal.  Everybody was crying.  Everybody.  As I mentioned in a FB post, there was an old man sobbing and beating his hands against the wall.  If people weren't crying before they saw that, they certainly were afterwards.  Horrific is the only word to describe the experience.  

25. The Auschwitz tour ends here and you board the bus to go the short distance to Birkenau.  However, because it was SO hot that day (in the high 90's), all the tour operators made an announcement that the tour would be cut short.  Normally, there is more than 2 miles of walking but due to the extreme heat and the ages of many of the tourists, it was simply unsafe.  However, we got to see some of it.

26. Auschwitz was never set up to be an extermination camp...but Birkenau was.  It was constructed specifically for that purpose.  Of the 300 buildings that used to exist, only 50 currently do b/c as the Soviets invaded, they took the bricks and lumber to build other things.

27. People were only allowed to wash their clothes every 4.5 months - so they worked, slept and defecated in these clothes.  Because the water was so poor, most people had raging intestinal problems...and b/c they were not allowed to use the bathrooms, especially during the night, they simply had to go where they were.  So, those on the top bunk fouled those below them...night after night after night.

28. Rats killed those who slept on the lowest levels.

29.  It was sweltering during this tour, but I felt guilty fanning myself and decided to just suffer since I knew the poor prisoners didn't have the simple luxury of a fan.

30. Auschwitz and Birkenau have been museums since 1947 and were declared UNESCO World Heritage Sights in 1979.

31. The end of the tour was truly uplifting.  After leaving the barracks and heading for the entrance/exit...I heard spontaneous yelling.  It took me a moment to realize it was actually singing.  About 30 ft. away from me, there was a big group of Hasidim waving their arms around as a VERY old man was wheeled across the gravel towards them.  When the old man reached them, they picked him up out of the chair - and while continuing to sing - carried him the entire mile down the train tracks to where the gas chambers were.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing.  I went up in the tower at the entrance so I could watch their journey down.  I feel lucky to have witnessed this and can only surmise that the gentleman in the wheelchair was a survivor of that place.

So - upon leaving Birkenau and making the journey back to Krakow - I felt drained.  Drained, drained, drained.  I am so thankful that I got to see that place but came away only more horrified at the capacity for evil in this world.  And anybody that thinks this kind of evil only existed with the Nazis and during WWII - is naive.  These things are still happening today - in Bosnia, in North Korea and in Rwanda - just to name a couple.

"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it." - George Santayana
This quote was on a big poster in one of the buildings at Auschwitz

I had a quiet evening in Krakow, rinsed the sweat off myself and headed for the train station to board my overnight train to Budapest.  Since I already wrote about Budapest, the next entry will be about my superb experience in Turkey!! More posts to catch up on....hope I haven't lost too many people along the way.  Still up - Turkey, Italy and the beginning of Spain...San Sebastian!!

Sarah C. Bayrd - Sept. 22nd, 1947

It used to be that there were only days I looked forward to....vacations/trips, holidays, weekends, etc. Now, with one phone call that took place on November 2nd, there are 3 days that I dread as they approach - Mother's Day, Mom's Birthday and Mom's Death.  I'm sure some people would tell me not to give them that power, but I haven't learned that skill yet.  These days hurt and, for now, I think it is just best to let them do their worst, survive them and move on.  Today is one of those days, her birthday.

I am in Bologna, Italy today - having just left Venice where I was for 4 nights and Florence before that.  And yes, as I write this, there is a plate of Bolognese in front of me ;))  For 9 Euro, I get Salad, Pasta, Wine and Coffee.  Hopefully, being in a public place will help staunch some of the tears.  Bologna is a "perching place" before I head up to the Italian Lakes and over into Lombardy and the Piedmont region - a highlight of the Italy part of the trip.  I am picking up a car tomorrow to drive these parts of Italy.  Not originally planned, but I loved driving through France so much, that I decided to attempt to duplicate the experience.

It is the first birthday since the accident - we are almost finished with the year of "Firsts", thank god.  First Thanksgiving, First Christmas, First Birthday (mine), First Birthday (hers).  Bill will experience his First Birthday Without in another 6 days - and I know how badly it stings.  Then, it will be the First Anniversary - November 2nd.  I was originally going to be over here in Europe on that day, but I am returning home early to attend my cousin, Jessie's, wedding at the Goat Farm.  It will be good not to be alone on that day.

So - in an attempt to think good thoughts today - and, to just go ahead and force the issue of tears (there is no getting around them, best to just let them flow), here is a list of things I miss and loved about my Mom....

1. Calling her "Mim".  This was the name that she wanted to be her "Grandmother" name.  Her parents were MawMaw and PawPaw.  She wanted to be "Mim".  Since no grandchildren were on the horizon, I took to calling her that years ago.  And would trill it when I called her..."MiiiiiiiiiM"
2. Receiving mail from her at least once, sometimes twice a week.  Nobody was a better corresponder/letter writer than my Mim.  She used to get "irritated" when I didn't mention receiving a letter....but I got them so often that they were just part of my landscape.  I am grateful that I got morbid a couple years ago and started saving them.  She always tucked coupons (that I rarely used....I don't buy Ranch Salad Dressing), newspaper articles, wine reviews, pictures of her from her trips and letters from other family members to keep me in the loop - into them.  Not to mention the plethora of post-cards over the years.
3. Never having to think about Triple AAA - she always kept me and my brother current.
4. Knowing that if I called, she would always answer the phone if she could...no matter where she was or who she was with.  I only wish my brother and I had done the same.  As the line in the U2 song goes...."And it's you when I look in the mirror and it's you when I don't pick up the phone"
5. Book recommendations - the Pool Side Reading list is gone.
6. Being able to call whenever I needed to ask about a piece of history.  She always had the answer.  Always.
7. Going through magazines at home and finding them underlined in red ink - she was always finding tidbits to share in class.  And it was ALWAYS in RED ink.
8. Having my clothes folded so perfectly and as only she could do.  I teased her that she loved doing laundry...and she did.  Who else irons their pillow cases and their T-shirtsd?  My laundry will never smell the same ever again, nor will I find it stacked back on my bed and dresser.  T-shirts in one pile, pants hung on a hanger with a razor crease, panties and bras folded in a separate pile.
9. Returning home once leaving for college and finding a pile of stuff on my bed that she thought I would like - magazines, books, the freebies from Clinique and Estee Lauder, gifts from her recent trips....
10. Chicken Roll-ups, Chess Cake Squares, Broccoli Salad, Chili (with no beans or onions....I used to squawk that it couldn't be called Chili then), her Cheesecake, her Lemon Meringue Pie (my birthday pie every year) - UGHHHH....here come the tears....and in a restaurant...., Coffee Cake at Christmas, Hash Brown Casserole, Grean Bean Casserole (not a creamy one...but vinegar based), Her mounds of recipe clippings....that she never made, Broccoli Cheese Soup, Apple Juice Turkey Breast, Mixed Nuts at Christmas, Buttermilk Fudge, Butter-Nut O's (cheerios warmed up in the microwave with butter), Spiced Tea, Eggnog, Mashed Potatoes (with NO lumpps)....and always with a recipe close at hand - no matter how many times she had made them.
11. Our Christmas Tree - she loved it so much.  Full of ornaments collected over a lifetime of travel, friends and experiences.  Our stockings - that my Grandmother knitted  - and that my mother filled with individually wrapped gum, razors, shaving gel, toothpaste, deodorant, candy, gift cards.....and her International Santas on the mantle.  Christmas will never be the same.  My brother and I were truly spoiled when it came to this holiday.
12. She was the BEST gift receiver.  It didn't matter what it was - how hideous it might be - you would never know it by how she ooohed and ahhhhhed over it.  And she loved to comment on "how beautifully wrapped" everything was.  She always saved the wrapping paper if she could, especially if it was "pretty".
13.Her love of Pink Wine
14. Her love of good smelling coffee.  She always blamed me and my brother for this addiction.  We bought her first bag of "good smelling" coffee from The Coffee Beanery in Cool Springs Mall back in either the late 80's or early 90's (recently out of business...sigh) many years ago, and the addiction took.  
15.She never missed an appointment or canceled on a friend.  She believe that if you had said, "Yes", then it was iron-clad.
16. The terms, "Such as it is", "Fool", "Won't be seeing me", "My Friend"....and all the others.....
17. Her smell.  It used to be Shalimar by Guerlain that she wore....she would always sweep in to wake me up for Middle School on a cloud of Shalimar.  When she switched to Design by Paul Mitchell, I hated it.  And I hated being woken up by that cloud in High School.  She loved it, though, and wore it for over 20 years.  Now, I crave that smell.
18. Pristinely clean dishes - I also have the habit of washing the dishes before they go into the dishwasher.  It was the only way for the dishes to be done.  "They just aren't clean" if you don't do it that way.  We have had the same set of silverware and tupperware for over 30 years....and it is still pristine.
19. The sound of her shuffle down the hall in the mornings.
20. Calling the dog, "The Baby".
21. Remembering when she finally got her ears pierced at the age of 40+ and discovering the "World of Earrings".
22. Her magnet collection
23. The fact that she still wore a camisole and slip....always.  Her "Robe and Gown"...and how each had to be just so.
24. The smell of Estee Lauder's Dusting Powder...she used it every day.
25. The fact that she called the "Shower" the "Bath".  "I need to go have  my bath".  She didn't "take a shower", she "had a bath".
26. Her love of National Parks and Art Museums - thankfully, this got passed along to me.  The palpable and tangible joy she felt when seeing Bryce Canyon or looking at a Monet.
27. She did without so my brother and I could have the "Brentwood" lifestyle....she always found a way for me to have Guess Jeans, Timberland boots, an LL Bean backpack, trips to Europe and Cruises....and the greatest sacrifice....driving the oldest, ugliest, most un-safe car so I could have the family car and wouldn't be embarrassed at Brentwood High School, surrounded by those who had more.
28. Providing me and my brother with a charmed childhood filled with camps, sports, Wildwood, family outings, restaurants, obscene Christmases, trips to Florida, clubs, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, gymnastics....all things that cost money.
29. The plastic visor she always had on during our summer Florida trips.
30. Our endless supply of bags that she used to haul around the never-ending pile of papers to grade...in church, during softball games...anywhere.  The papers got graded.
31. How she answered the phone...."Hello?....Yes?....HI!!!!!!!!!"
32. How I teased her about "calling Van" to come hang pictures at the house.
33. The way she always wanted a "kiss goodnight" and would lay in her bed, holding her arms out to me as I stood in the hallway and smirked at her.
34. The way she closed her eyes, tilted her head back and gave herself up to music she loved.....Andrea Bocelli, Jim Brickman, Celtic Women, Enya...and all the other post-menopausal music I teased her about.
35. I will forever be grateful for the love of reading she gave me.  My earliest memories are of "having a story read" to me.  No gift has been greater....other than having her for a teacher.
36. Her meticulous record keeping.  Her calendars with the "X's" on them....she always marked off the day.
37. Her never-ending T-shirt collection....that she always dressed up with a skirt....and a camisole, of course.
38. Watching her put her albums together.  She never got into the "scrapbooking", she had her own method.  Thankfully, we have albums for days to re-visit the places she saw.
39. Her never-ending love of History.  There was always someplace else to go and visit.
40. Her "gossip" sessions with her friends....she was always on the phone with them giggling like a girl.  HOWEVER, my mother NEVER gossiped.  She never had a bad word to say about any of them.  They bitched and moaned to her about each other, but she never indulged and always had something good to say.  If only I was this way....it was one of her absolute best qualities and one I admired.
41. She never took a sick day.  No matter how sick she was - and bronchitis afflicted her a lot - she never stayed home.
42. She loved the smell of Lavender (for lotion and soap), Vanilla, Butterscotch, Cookies, Hazelnut Candles etc. (for the house).  There was always a candle burning...at the house and in her room at school despite the fire hazard posed.
43. The image of her - in her robe - sitting in HER chair, next to the fireplace,with the dog (either Beau or Miss Hattie) - i.e. The Baby -  in her lap, going through a magazine.
44. All the magazines she had constantly throughout the house.  And consequently, a never ending supply of articles to tear out and send me.
45. Going to Cheekwood as a kid to see the Christmas Trees.
46. Rarely paying  for movies at the Movie Theater b/c inevitably, Mom knew "a kid" there that she exploited to get us in.
47. Her being the un-official Mayor of Franklin and Brentwood - it always amazed me that no matter where we went, she would see someone she knew - whether it was a "kid" or a parent.  This happened in Europe, Philadelphia, Washington D.C. - it literally happened EVERYWHERE.  
48. She called me on my birthday every year at the exact minute I was born and sang, "Happy Birthday to you, You live in a zoo, You look like a monkey, And you act like one too"
49. She sent me and my brother cards for every holiday and occasion - always with a check in it for $10-$25...and the card always said, "Have a treat on me."
50. Our cold, cold house....she couldn't stand to be hot.
51. Once she needed reading glasses, seeing her with both sunglasses and reading glasses perched on her nose.
52. Knowing she was always on my side.  Always there to listen.  Always encouraging. Always interested in the most minute detail of my life.
53. The way she warped her lipsticks into the same stalactite shape - and they were always Estee Lauder.
54. The way she cherished everything family oriented - pictures, antiques, correspondence....She was the family historian.
55. Her praise for my cooking.  She could never believe that the child who wanted no part of the kitchen growing up, now loves nothing more than to cook.
56. How stressed out she used to get when entertaining.  Everything was always beautifully appointed, but it made her so nervous to get ready to have people over.
57. The sight of her polishing the silver and washing the crystal.
58. Her pride in our house and how much she loved it.  It was and is a "Home" in the truest sense.
59. The fact that she and I are both "ugly cryers"  Once we cry, we are done for.  Red eyes, red nose, blotchy skin...a curse.  Today, I am done.
60. Her perfectly arched eyebrows that she never had to pluck or do anything to.  They were just perfect.
61. Her laugh, her smile....and her hands.  Her soft hands.

I know there are more things, more memories, more losses...there will always be more.  But this is all I can manage today.  Some of her friends have written to me about dreams they had of her.  I have only had one....and it was fairly recent.  I don't remember what it was about, I just remember waking up with my stomach clenched and realizing that I had "seen" her and finally dreamed about her.  Nothing is more painful than realizing all over again that I will never see her again.  I have also been told that perhaps my lack of dreams is due to the fact that the subconscious seeks to protect the conscious mind from things that are too painful for it to bear.  I don't know.  But my hair is starting to show signs of gray - I figured it would and actually thought I might wake up on the morning of Nov. 3rd with totally white hair.

It has almost been a year since the accident.  We still don't really know what happened.  We still have no accident report from Greece.  What I do know is I wish more than anything that my life did not have such a definitive mark of sadness upon it.  

So, Happy Birthday, Mim....you would be 64 today.  I love you.

Berlin - Meh, Warsaw - O-M-Gay

Berlin - meh.  Arrived in Berlin, bought my ticket to Warsaw and headed for my hostel.  Unfortunately, other than Berlin's Neue Nationalgalerie  - which is absolutely wonderful, I don't feel like I saw that much of the city.  Yes, I saw the Brandenberg Gate for a hot minute, took a few pictures of the remains of the Wall, gazed upon Checkpoint Charlie....and that about did it.  I was in a decent hostel just off Freiderichstrasse, but forward momentum was difficult to come by.  

1. I needed to buy pants and that took 1/2 a morning.
2. It was time for new toiletries.
3. I had to go back to the Hauptbanhoff b/c the ticket person put the wrong date on my train to Warsaw.  Yet another reason Rail Europe sucks....the pass is not good in Poland so I had to purchase a new ticket.
4. Had to buy a new SIM card....again.....and after having it in the phone for a night, discovered the next day - at the Brandenberg Gate -  that it didn't work.  This forced me to skip the cool walking tour b/c I had to sort the phone out immediately and I didn't want to leave for Poland without means of communication when trying to meet up with people.  Ridiculous.  I have choice thoughts about having a phone in Europe as well.
5. Didn't sleep well in Berlin b/c of 1.  a rude Aussie in my room who banged in at 2:30am, 3:45am, 4:45am and 6am 2 mornings in a row.  He was in and out of the room before I could get my befuddled wits about me to give him a piece of my mind and 2. The Barcelona Soccer match was broadcast from my Hostel and apparently that brings all of the neighborhood to the hostel to get rowdy.  I watched for a while, but I hate to say that I'm a true American and just can't get that fired up about Soccer.  Yep, I said Soccer.

I know it sounds like I am hating on Berlin, but it was really just the place it fell in my trip.  I wasn't there long enough to do it justice, it was "errand" time which always takes longer when the language is difficult and I never really meant to go there.  Berlin was a last minute decision simply booked as throughput to Warsaw, and my experience there reflected all this.  I should classify it as one of those cities that "I need to get back to"....but I don't know if I will.  It falls low on that list as well. 

As Mom would say, "Too Bad, So Sad".....off to Warsaw.

Warsaw, O-M-Gay - there are a couple of you reading this that may remember a group of Polish people I met in Knoxville many, many, many moons ago who had fallen on some bad luck.  They had come to America through a language program and upon arrival in Knoxville- and taking a but out into the middle of nowhere - were confronted with an empty trailer in the woods.  There money had been stolen, the language program did not exist and they had fallen prey to a scam.  Two of them ended up finding jobs at the Copper Cellar - where I worked - and I befriended their group for the remainder of their time in the States.  I have kept loosely in touch with one of the guys - Pawel -  and met up with him and his finacee, Karolina, 2 years ago in Vienna.  Well, 10 years have passed (ok, maybe 9...but 10 years has a better ring to it!) and I finally made it to Poland for a visit.

Pawel was a welcome sight in the train station and after another big hug, we piled into his car bound for the grocery store- Halay Banana - as I termed it.  I couldn't pronounce the real name.  Pawel wanted to make sure I had proper provisions since I would be staying in his old apartment with his brother and brother's girlfriend.  This was my first introduction to a delicious Polish tidbit called The Pierogie.  Mmmmmm....what all can I say about The Pierogie to make your mouth water and to crave them as I did while trolling the streets of Warsaw.  Pierogies are Poland's answer to the dumpling - made with potato.  I was a Pierogie virgin upon arriving in Warsaw, but upon leaving - felt like I had turned into one.  Pierogies made an appearance during at least one meal for my entire time there.  Mmmmmmm.....Pierogies - just conjuring them now makes me want to go all the way back to Poland.  The wonderful thing about Pierogies is that they come in so many different flavors - both sweet and savory.  Trust me, I did the research.  For my first foray into Pierogies, I let Pawel do the choosing - he said depending on how hungry you are 8-12 make up a meal.  So, we got 35 or 40!!  Don't laugh! He wanted me to have some for breakfast the next morning.  We got Spinach and Feta, Kraut and Mushroom, Meat (this is about what it sounds like....meat.  No real idea what kind of meat....not my favorite ones), Russian - potato and onion, Blackberry, Sweet Cream Cheese and Strawberry.  There are 2 ways to prepare the Pierogie - you can 1. Boil them in water until just tender, slop them out on a plate and throw a pat of butter on them OR 2. Pan fry them in a little olive oil and butter.  We boiled the savories and I pan-fried the sweets the next morning. Mmmmmmm....Pierogies.

Let it be said up front - that, Polish hospitality is second to none!  I was shuttled everywhere, shown the entire city, every comfort attended to, entrance fees paid for, meals purchased and my every whim indulged.  If it sounds like I acted The Princess - please don't think this - my friends just wanted to show me the best that Warsaw had to offer and they wanted to make it an unforgettable experience....which they did in spades!!

Here is what I saw in Warsaw - prepare yourselves...not many stones were left unvisited!!!

1. First up, The Palace of Culture and Science - aka The Pahl-ahse.  This sounds quite lah-di-da...but it is a really a big, HUGE building that was a gift from the nations of the USSR in the 50's.  Snort.  It was built in the central point of the city, to replace the houses destroyed during WWII.  It is 234 metros tall, including its spire and houses numerous institutions, such as cinemas, theaters and museums, restaurants and shops.  However, to me, it looked like a big building.  The only activity were people like me paying my Zlotys to ride the elevator to the top to see the panorama of Warsaw.  Even funnier - the woman in the elevator whose job it was to push the buttons.  She had herself a little fan rigged up, a box to rest her feet on and a book in front of her face the entire time we rode with her.  The only motions she made were to push the button and to turn a page in her book.  No eye contact, no smile, no welcome....nothing.  Back to the Palace....and remember, it is not a Palace....it is a big skyscraper looking building.  There have been many lans for the Palace's demolition or conversion - but these have remained on paper only.  Some want to destroy it because it symbolizes the Soviet occupation and some want to keep it because at the end of the day, Soviet occupation is a part of Poland's history - and destroying this big, beautiful building will not erase those years.  So, it stands....and offers amazing views....for a price, of course!! 

Karolina bought me a book on Warsaw at the Pahl-ahse and I used it my entire time there, checking off the sights as I saw them.  Almost every picture and page in this book is now checked off!!

2. The Old Town - From the Pahl-ahse, we decided to park and walk to The Old Town.  The Old Town is one of the most beautiful places in Warsaw.  Its romantic streets and corners encourage visitors and city dwellers alike to stroll around the area where the history of the city began.  What is most fascinating about The Old Town is that what you see today is a total reconstruction of the original.  Like the rest of Warsaw, it was absolutely obliterated during WWII.  Not just destroyed, but OBLITERATED.  Nothing left standing.  With the help of old paintings by Canaletto, photos, writings and archival notes, a total reconstruction was undertaken - which you can see and experience today.  It is a UNESCO World Heritage Sight despite not being the original.

I spent quite a bit of time down in The Old Town - we strolled and wandered, visited The Royal Castle, walked Castle Square, rubbed the big bell, took pictures of The Monument to the Young Insurgent, splashed about near The Mermaid of Warsaw (she is the symbol of Warsaw), went by the monument to the Shoemaker, Jan Kilinski, and Sigismund's Column - the first secular monument in Poland....although he is holding a huge cross...hmmmmm, walked along The Barbican (the old defense walls) and viewed many churches.  

I even saw the Polish Bruce Willis while waiting on a pizza at Pizza Hut.  No, I did not know it was Pizza Hut.  I was following Karolina.  AND, the Polish Pizza Hut looks NOTHING like an American Pizza Hut.  It is like a proper restaurant.  Apparently the Polish Bruce Willis is on a popular Soap Opera....saw him.  Karolina was trying to say OMG to me (to be funny) and ended up saying O-M-Gay....Ba-hahahahaha (since "G" is not Gee in Polish).  We laughed and laughed about that one!  O-M-Gay, indeed!!

Old Town....check.

3. Walked around the grounds of the University of Warsaw- entered through the neo-Baroque gate designed by Stefan Szyller in 1900 -  and visited one of their newer buildings - The Library that has a neat rooftop garden and great view of the Vistula river.  Saw The Casimir Palace - the oldest university building - and today is the rector's office and the University museum.  Went by the monument to Nicolaus Copernicus (didn't know he was Polish), the Baroque Holy Cross Church, the Baroque Church of the Nuns of the Visitation, The Church of the Carmelites, walked up Nowy Swiat Street - part of the Royal Way - and saw the monument to the "great" poet Adam Mickiewicz...I say "great" b/c I have never read any of his poetry.  I may have to take the Poles' word for it.

That night for dinner - along with delicious Pierogies - I had Bigos.  Something I will have to attempt to duplicate at home....warm Kraut, pork bits and some kind of fruit.  This is where it helps to have Polish friends - I only have to write them for an authentic recipe.  Bigos, Bigos, Bigos!!

4. Took a boat cruise along the Vistula River.  Had high hopes for this, but alas - it was a bit of a bummer.  Too many people on the boat,  not enough seats, blazing hot and only Non-Alcoholic beer served.  Yuck and pointless.  The views were decent, but there was no "tour" aspect to it - as in, I didn't really know what I was seeing as I was seeing it.  Still, being on a boat is being on a boat...and I love them.  Got to see the Soccer Stadium being built- Poland is hosting something big in the next year so they are frantically working on their infrastructure....they have a ways to go.

5. Lazienki Park - pronounced Wa-zshin-ski. I cannot put the slash through the "L" that tells you to pronounce it like a "W".  Lazienki Park was developed at the site of the medieval hunting forest of the Mazovian dukes residing at Jazdow.  In the 17th c., the owner built two small pavilions in the forest: the Hermitage and the Bath (because we all need an entire building devoted entirely to bathing).  The domed circular hall of the Bath imitated a grotto (Hugh Hefner, what?) with a fountain in the middle and the bathroom was supplied with 2 tubs.  That was the origin of the name Lazienki, in Polish "baths".  In 1764, Ujazdow Castel (yep, the names in Poland are ridiculously hard to spell and make very little sense with their pronunciation) and its environs were bought by the King who intended to adapt everything into his summer residence.  In order to make the Bath suitable for living, it had to be enlarged and refurbished....of course it did!!  As a result, a beautiful Palace on the Water was built, also called the Palace on the Island (real original name).  More buildings were erected and the part was suitably arranged for the King.  

There was a "nice" art exhibit at the Palace on the Water - but someone needs to let the Poles know that when exhibiting very "dark" art...i.e. art with not a lot of color....it requires some illumination to be seen.  I walked by one "blank" canvas after another because you could not see what the picture was.  Silliness!!!  

I went to this park twice.  Once to see the Palace on the Water and the Frederic Chopin monument - which is quite impressive, set amidst a red rose garden - and another time to visit the Botanical Gardens.  Beautiful, peaceful, colorful and sad.  Gardens also make me sad - Mom loved them so.

6. A Modern Art Museum - this was a total joke.  Most of the museum was closed while they moved things around, but that didn't stop them charging full price and only having 5 paintings to view in one gallery - and they were mostly black with a few squiggles of white on the canvas.  I wanted to demand my money back but Karolina was too polite....and I knew I could never make the woman at the ticket counter understand.  She didn't speak any English.  Ridiculous.  From there, we went to Poland's version of The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier - it is guarded just like ours is and seeing the changing of the guards is very moving.

7. Museum of the Polish Uprising - aka The Warsaw Rising - This is one of those museums that should be on everybody's "Must Do" list when visiting Warsaw.  It is a relatively new museum and one my brother recommended to me.  I won't go into this too much because you have to really be there to understand.... but will give you a couple nuggets....

1. Poland suffered heavily under both the Germans and the Russians all throughout WWII.  It was invaded and occupied on 2 sides in 1939.  The Russians were supposed to be allies of the Poles, but on September 17th, 1939, the Soviet Union joined Germany, violating former agreements with Poland stating, "If there is no government in Poland anymore, there is no non-aggression pact either."  There was "no government" in Poland at the time because the Nazis had invaded and taken the capital.  SO, rather than coming to the aid of their allies, the Soviets took advantage of this catastrophe and took what they could.
2. The occupation begins and its cruelty exceeds everything that Poles had experienced over the past centuries under Prussian and Russian servitude.  Both occupants introduce the policy of extermination of POlish leaders.  From the very first days, there are numerous carefully planned deportations, expulsions, various types of persecution including starvation, administrative harassments and executions.  Food supply disturbances threaten the biological existence of the whole nation.  Poles were forced to subsist on 3x less the caloric norms.  The Polish Ghetto is introduced by the Germans and starting in December 1941, extermination camps are introduced.
3. Education was abolished.  Art and Literature are destroyed.
4. The Catholic Church is outlawed and its priests, monks and nuns are murdered.
5. The Rising began on August 1, 1944 and is quite possibly one of the most overlooked heroic efforts ever.  It failed and most of its participants were killed - but they refused to bend to Soviet and Nazi will.  If they had only had a little help from the Allies - the outcome would have been different.  But, they didn't.
6. All throughout this exhibit, there are signs that say "Attention: Drastic Scenes"....and they are.  The pictures of the Liquidation of the Ghetto were the most disturbing.  I'm sure I don't need to describe what I saw in these images. 
7. Warsaw went from being a city of 1.3 million people to one of 900,000 after the Ghetto was introduced to only 1,000 people after the Rising.  For those of you who saw the movie, "The Pianist" - this was Poland if I'm not mistaken.  Wladyslaw Szpilman is one of the 1,000 who was in Warsaw after The Rising....living in a totally obliterated, bombed out city with no buildings, no food, NOTHING!  The city was one big graveyard.
8. I watched the 6 minute 3-D movie called Miasmo - to see what Warsaw looked like after The Rising and after the Germans and Soviets had finished with it.  I'm know that Warsaw was not the only city to be completely destroyed, but it was my first time to see the level and breadth of destruction that took place.  To be walking those streets today and to know that 60 years ago, nothing existed here is astounding.  

Towards the end of this museum, I had a fit of claustrophobia.  We were downstairs and underground.....and the museum seemed to just go on, and on, and on, and on....and I couldn't be surrounded by destruction and death for any longer.  I needed to see the light and to breathe fresh air.  There were faces of the dead peering down at me, voices speaking, evil men looking out of photographs, images scrolling by, the sounds of bombs in the background, remnants of the city in cases.....it was overwhelming.

Warsaw was a really wonderful experience.  I got to relax, see friends, meet their gorgeous 16 mo. old daughter, Veronica, see a wonderful city, eat typical Polish food and got a massage and a pedicure while I was there.  Perfection....and at only $30 for an hour massage, I need to go back to Warsaw sooner than later!!

Karolina and I went down to Krakow for my last day and night in Poland....but that is for the next posting as it was where I visited Auschwitz, and that deserves its own posting.

RichardLewis, Shades, Sneaky Pete....

Budapest - 

I was looking forward to Budapest for many weeks before arriving.  I had heard my brother speak highly of it and have really never heard a bad word uttered about it - only that it is beautiful.  I totally agree with this statement but what is strange about my time in Budapest - is that I saw very little of the city I had been looking forward to; yet, had a fantastic time there and genuinely hope to return.  How did this happen you might ask...

It happened like this....

2 years ago, I swore I would never take another overnight train anywhere.  Some people love them - you don't waste daylight traveling, you save the money on accommodations and it is an adventure.  Yes, maybe and not really.  On my last overnight train from Vienna to Neuchatel - I slept poorly, was hot and was absolutely crammed into a couchette tighter than tuna in a can.  AND, the next day, I managed to tear my ACL and I think it was because of the fatigue.  This time was only a little better - I still slept poorly, was hot and was still crammed into a couchette - although with only 2 more people rather than 3.  I arrived in Budapest around 8:30am and immediately began searching for an ATM to get Hungarian money....I had used my Polish money up - the Zloty.  I wandered for a while not understanding why I couldn't find an ATM - finally, I was told there was one in the Post Office.  I found the one I needed and proceeded to put my ATM card into the bank machine....Nothing.  Hmmmmm.....I pushed Cancel.....Nothing.  Hmmmmm - at this point, my stomach started to tighten up a little.  I pushed a couple other buttons......Nothing.  Uh-Oh.  I turned around and found a guy watching me from behind the counter.  I politely asked him if he spoke English....he grunted what I thought was a "Yes".  In a mixture of words and mimes, I explained to him what had happened at the machine....even though he had seen.  He said, "Sorry. You come back Monday."  Mind you, it is Saturday morning.  I have no cash - only Credit Cards.  This was my first lesson that I should always keep some emergency cash on hand.  I have never taken a cash advance on a Credit Card and didn't even know how to begin trying.  I again, explained the position not having this card put me in....and wasn't there someone we could call??  Believe it or not, he snapped the window shut in my face.  Shock turned into fury in about 5 seconds flat and I began to bang on the window he had just shut.  He tried to ignore me, but whoa be unto the man who attempts to do that.  He finally turned to me and I pursed my lips, pointed at him and crooked my finger saying, "Get your ass over here....NOW!!"  He came (as they do) and I got "American" on him....telling him that I understood it was not his problem, but there had to be something he could do, someone he could call or something he could recommend.  He told me to go see the people next door b/c it was their machine, which I did.  They were rude as well but somehow a key was found to the machine and MAGICALLY that asshole behind the window knew what to do with the key.....put it in the keyhole, turn the key and take the front of the machine off to retrieve my card.  Asshole doesn't even beging to describe what I wanted to call him.

After that hour of stress I set off for the Hostel, got there and, of course, it was too early to check in, which I had expected.  They were super cool about offering me coffee, a shower, a place to lounge, etc.  So, I pulled out the old iPad to check email and Facebook.  I got to FB and  noticed that I was tagged in a picture by someone.  I thought it strange that they would have a picture of me.  Being tagged in a picture should come with a Warning.  I clicked the button and up popped this old picture of me and my mom from when I was 7 yrs. old up at her work, my future high school.  I have seen the picture before and love it, it is in one of the yearbooks from the 80's - but that is the last thing I expected to see.....and what do you think happened??  I TOTALLY fell apart.  Completely.  It just took me too by surprise and my defenses were down.  Terribly, the Hostel was beginning to wake up and there I was this sobbing, blubbering girl - trying to get myself back together - but every time someone asked me if I was "ok", it just started the leaky tears again.  Once I had started, I couldn't stop them.  Everybody was SO sweet and SO sympathetic and I was SO embarrassed!!  Finally, the "manager" directed me to a balcony seeing that some privacy might help me.....which it did.  I proceeded to meet  some of the most wonderful people out on the balcony within the next hour who totally turned my morning around and became my "entourage" of people who will forever be tied to my memories of Budapest - 6 22-24 yr old Aussies.  I was definitely older than all of them (save one American my age) but I completely adored every single one of them.  This is the reason I didn't do nearly as much as I would have liked in Budapest....hanging with young Aussies is tough work...especially on the liver.

Meet them in all their glory...

1. Sinead - aka Shades -  a dark-haired, perceptive,intuitive, well-traveled, well-educated future architect on her way to Shanghai to build the future cities of the world.  My first encounter on the balcony, reading Ernest Hemingway.
2. RichardLewis or LewisRichard depending on who you are talking to - the 2 guys that got me over the hump on the balcony.  Richard is tall, with dark eyes and a mop of curly hair - his game was making people guess where he is from.  Australia is NEVER the first guess....more like Italy, Spain or somewhere in Middle East.  Lewis is also tall and dark-haired, but not dark complected like Richard and rolls the meanest cigarette in Europe and Australia.   After talking to them for about 45 minutes, smoking a few cigarettes and deciding that it was time to get the day back on track....I asked them their names - because I had forgotten in my sadness - they answered...Richard Lewis....I burst into laughter and said I would have no trouble remembering that as it is a "character" on one of my favorite shows on HBO - Curb Your Enthusiasm.  I had a genuine smile on my face by that time....especially after RichardLewis.  I'm not sure any of us called them by their actual names...rather, the combination of both until it got confusing who we were talking about and flipped the name according to who we were talking about.
3. Carmen - Sinead's best friend - tall, blonde, beautiful in that Australian way and incredibly laid back.  Such a sweet story - she and Sinead have been friends since they were 1 or 2 years old and when they were 4 or 5, told their mothers that they were going to travel the world together.  And they are!
4. Justin Carlton - the American my age.  I don't even really  know what his real last name is - for some reason, we all thought his name was Carlton before cementing the fact that it was actually "Justin" - so we called him Justin Carlton.  He is an Arizona native and works in International Aid.  A photographer, an artist, a superb DJ - he kept us with the freshest tunes in the Hostel - and a guy with a solid perspective on life.  Also the first person there in the Hostel that was witness to my "Come Apart" after seeing the picture.
5. Ben - one of the funnies "young guys" I have come across in recent memory with his sidekick "Sneaky Pete".  On my last morning...Ben (who had been in Budapest for 8 or 9 days) proceeded to ask the question..."So what is with this Buda and Pest...are they, like, 2 different places?"  As we looked at him in disbelief and said "Yes"..he then asked...."So where is Budapest?"  You all know me - he didn't hear the end of this one for several hours!!
6. Sneaky Pete - the name should say it all.  A little guy, with an incredible amount of energy and as the smaller ones normally are - funny as hell and super quick with the wit and comebacks.  His last name is Proust and it still has yet to be proven to me that his Great Uncle is Mr. Marcel....i.e. Marcel Proust.  I truly hope it turns out to be true.

So - my time in Budapest consisted of the following....

1. Great breakfasts at a place called Keno beneath our Hostel that made the most decadent Hot Chocolate I have ever tasted.
2.Walking, Walking, Walking, Walking....to nowhere.
3. Great plans - to go to a beer tasting, wine tasting, the Castle, a botanical garden, the art museum, the great Synagogue.....none happened.
4. Lots of beers with Aussies
5. Hours spent in front of the computer laughing my ass off at various YouTube spectacles.
6. A decadent last day at the Rudas Baths....this was something!!
7. A cruise along the Danube listening to 2 voices called "Buda" and "Pesc"...giving me some history.
8. 3 bottles of Hungarian Wine
9. A killer view of some Performance Arts place next to our Hostel - which was located in a very old building with a cool courtyard- which would have been cooler if the fountain worked.
10. Heat
11. Cigarettes on a sweet little balcony
12. A shoulder massage courtesy of RichardLewis
13. A new reading list - courtesy of the Aussies
14. Amazing conversations that went way deeper than 22-24 years

So, as I said, Budapest was not spent in the typical way.  However, I think it was a valuable experience and one that I will remember.

I continue to move East.....to Istanbul......

Orval, Chimay, Westmalle....oh my!!

I was looking forward to the respite of Belgium knowing that I would get to see a college friend and that the town would be easily revealed.  I say easily revealed because each and every city I visit has a specific character but it sometimes takes you longer to flesh its special characteristics out.  Some cities reveal themselves to you immediately and some make you work for that moment of revelation - much like people.  

I haven't heard much about Brussels.  Sure, people talk about the waffles, the fries, the chocolate and the beers, but they don't have much to say about its character and what distinguishes it from its neighbors.  As the seat of the European Union, it certainly has a heady mix of people populating it - mainly for work.  They come from all over Europe and certainly give Brussels an International flavor.  But I wanted to know about Belgians.  Perhaps staying with an American isn't the best way to find this information out, but I actually think I left Brussels with a good sense of its style.  I say style because towards the end of my trip, I think I was able to pick a native Belgian out from all the rest.  They are cool, quirky, low-key, self-assured, attractive and intriguing.  The most attractive girls will wear the ugliest pair of nerd glasses you have ever seen, but will rock them and be the prettiest girl in the room.  The same for the guys.  There was a Portland style about the city.

I climbed off the train and headed for the Starbucks in the train station to meet up with Mr. Wheel - aka Will MacPhail.  Now that I am a proper adult (snort) - it is nice to know there are people out there who knew you before this maturation process took place.  Hugs were exchanged, luggage shifted and off we went to Will's darling little apartment only a couple steps away from the EU headquarters.  The tour was brief as it is a studio apartment - but painted a lovely robin's egg blue with a detailed white European ceiling.  What does that actually mean?  It means that there was a design carved into the ceiling that you see over here quite frequently....not a flat ceiling, but one with character.  It wasn't sunny but it wasn't gray and rainy....just overcast.  A stop at the market had us laden with good Belgian beer - of which Will has become a local expert (just my kind of guy!) - and off to a Park we went.  

Warning - for those of you planning to visit Belgium any time soon....BEWARE!!!!  The beers are ALL high alcohol beers.  Each Belgian beer is like drinking 2.5 or 3 American beers in one sitting!  This is great, of course.....until you inevitably fall back onto the monochre of...."OK, just one last beer"....one last beer IS NOT 1 last beer, it is 3 last beers....and can swiftly lead you into dangerous territory!!  So it was on Night 1 in Brussels.  

Quick lesson on Belgian beer....there are many....many, many, many....but I just focused on the Trappist Beers.  Trappist beers are beers brewed in a Trappist monastery. For a beer to qualify for Trappist certification, the brewery must be in a monastery, the monks must play a role in its production and policies and the profits from the sale must be used to support the monastery and/or social programs outside. Only seven breweries currently meet these qualifications, six of which are in Belgium and one in the Netherlands. The current Trappist producers are Achel, Chimay, Koningshoeven (the Netherlands), Orval, Rochefort, Westmalle, and Westvleteren. Trappist beer is a controlled term of origin: it tells where the beers come from, it is not the name of a beer style. Beyond saying they are mostly top-fermented, the beers produced by the Trappists have very little in common.

The neatest thing of all....is that each beer has its own specific glass for serving.  Of course, all the ones I tried (all of them except the Netherlands one) were delicious, but I think I liked the Orval the best - maybe because of the glass....I can't remember.....a common problem after imbibing several...

Day 2 dawned and after a homeade egg sandwich by Mr. Wheel, we set off to attack the city - only a loose plan in play.  First up, a tour of The Palace (Palais Royale).  Will was quite surprised to find the Palace open and it was at his behest that we went inside.  It was strange, because as he claimed it is NEVER open, each step closer in we went....it felt like we might be doing something "illegal" and we were constantly in fear of hearing "Stop, what are you doing"...but in either French or Dutch.  This didn't happen and we finally confirmed that the Palace was indeed open and that it was FREE to wander through.  FREE??  How can it be free??  Nothing has been free since leaving London.  Free it was, though.  My favorite part of the Palace was the chandeliers.  They were just gorgeous - massive, sparkling, each one unique and in EVERY room.  One room in particular - the Throne Room - had 28 of them!!  At the end of our tour, we stumbled into a room that was being used for a Modern Art exhibit - or something.  They had used green beatle wings to completely cover portions of the ceiling, the fireplace and an entire chandelier.  I have never seen anything like it.  Who thought of doing something like that??  Covering structures in millions - yes, millions - of beatle wings??  Someone did, though - and the color green is seared into my brain.

Up next.....Brussels' famous little man....Mannekin Pis

Why Mr. Pis is so famous, I'm not quite sure...nor was Will.  But famous he is....even though he is only about 2 ft. high - and simply pisses into a tiny bowl of a fountain.  Nevertheless, he is considered a Brussels landmark - so I went to see him.  Looked at him, took my obligatory photos - but was really more keen to see all his different outfits - over 700 now from all over the world.  Alas, I couldn't convince Will to accompany me to look at Doll Clothes - no matter how I tried to dress it up (pun intended) - looking at Doll Clothes is looking at Doll Clothes...aka not manly.  So, off to the Art Museum we went.

Belgian Art....one word for it....CREEPY!!!  Will and I wandered through many galleries and enjoyed a lot of what there was to see...mostly 15th-18th century...but the one word that kept coming out of our mouths was....CREEPY.  Lots of scenes of hell, disfigured men and women, horrific scenes of torture, fire and brimstone, rapes, destruction, agony and terror.  Like I said....CREEPY!  And the portraits of people were not much better....one afflicted looking person after another....dark, dour and smile less.  CREEPY.  Still - we enjoyed finding one weird painting to outdo the other in creepiness and upon leaving, I had a smile upon my face.  Not all art is sunny, awash with colors and filled with flowers....especially the Belgian art, for sure!!

Dinner - a new adventure - Congolese Food.  I will always be haunted by a documentary I saw in college - in Mr. Asafa Jalata's class (remember him, Rachel??).  It was about the conquest and colonization of Africa and I'll never forget seeing the one-handed Congolese - tortured by the Belgians.  After visiting this wonderful place (Brussels, NOT the Congo), it just boggles the mind to think such horrors took place.  Well - now that I think about that....after seeing their art, it shouldn't surprise me one bit!  Dinner was great - and some of the cheapest beer in the city!!  Chicken and Rice - a little spice to it and cold beer to wash it down.  Ahhhhhhh.....

Sunday, Day trip to Ghent.  I was pretty set on visiting Bruges before I landed with Mr. Wheel - but upon consulting with the local expert, Bruges was forsaken for Ghent.  Will called Bruges a medieval Disneyland thronged with tourists, but that Ghent was still under the radar, just as beautiful and his preference.  This was confirmed by one of his friends, so Ghent it was.  I was definitely not disappointed and thoroughly enjoyed my little jaunt up the railway.  In true Beth fashion, I got off the train, full of confidence, eager to see the city, make the most of my day (a mere 6 hours or so)and arrive back in Brussels content with my little journey.  1. I left the train station, got on the tram and proceeded to go in the wrong direction (of course...b/c I didn't inherit my mom's sense of direction....and anyone who thinks Bill is any better has yet to  be with him as he follows his magic iPhone to hell and back before admitting that it took us the wrong way!) 2. Managed to tear my only pair of pants on a nail....on a Sunday when NOTHING is open.  The Ghentians (I have no idea if that is what they call themselves) got much more than an eyeful that evening.  And 3. managed to miss my train back b/c I somehow took the L-O-N-G tram to the station and I got distracted ogling buildings along the canal.  It was worth it though....the ogling was better here than in some other cities.

One of Ghent's main claims to fame is a painting housed in a church and at 4 Euro, it had better be no ordinary painting!!  Turns out, it is not one, but many paintings forming a large 11x15ft altarpiece called "Adoration of the Mystic Lamb" by Van Eyck. For your 4 Euro, you get an audio guide that explains all the hidden meanings, points out the tiny details, reveals the symbolism and attempts to tell you what the overall point of this strange thing is.  Unfortunately - nobody really knows and "Van Eyck Scholars" (how would you like to be one of these?) still cannot agree about certain aspects of this painting.  Nevertheless - the audio guide was well worth it, because it forces you to really stop and look.  The detail is astounding, the perspective makes it look totally lifelike and the more you look at it, the more you come to appreciate the accomplishment.  Well worth my 4 Euro.

Linen and Lace also abound in Ghent.  I couldn't really do any shopping, though...because it was Sunday.  This has been hard to get used to over here.  I'm accustomed to places opening late and closing early....but not being totally shut up.  I found one shop that was open, bought myself something nice and paid too much for it, I'm sure.  The irony being that because it was the only thing open, it was for tourists and therefore, more expensive.  Sigh.  

Since I did not do a canal cruise in Amsterdam, I figured I better do one in Ghent since canals and canal houses abound here as well as Amsterdam - and the colors are similar.  I climbed aboard my little boat, squeezed in amongst some Italians and sat back for my 45 minute cruise.  I cannot say I learned too much because the tour was conducted in English, German and Italian.  I tended to zone out when the other languages were spoken and by the time I realized that English was being spoken again, I had missed part of what was being pointed out.  C'est la vie.  The breeze was wonderful, the sun was out and I really do love the feeling of being on water.  At the end of the cruise, I bumbled along - i.e. walked but with my head up looking at buildings instead of watching where I was going.  A few stumbles but thankfully no spills.  As said above, I missed my chosen train back and tore my pants within the next 30 minutes - but Ghent was a big "Win" overall.  I would love to return....on a weekday....to truly enjoy more of what it has to offer.

Monday turned out to be a Belgian Holiday...Will and I still aren't sure for what, though.  So - since nothing was open - we did what any smart 30 somethings do....found a bar to drink!!  We both had our computers with us so it wasn't a totally wasted day....and no day can really be called wasted when there is Belgian Beer about!!  The evening came, we met some of Will's friends out for drinks and my last taste of Belgium's famous fries - omg, these guys are totally sinful and obscenely delicious.  They are fried, then fried again....sit waiting on you, and then when you order them....they are fried up once again to give them that nice crisp to the outside.  A sprinkling of salt a large dollop of mayonnaise (don't hate me...it is sooooo delicious) and there you have it.  With a big Belgian beer in hand, you might swear you were in heaven!

Night came and with that, the end of my Belgian adventure. Onwards to Berlin and then Warsawa and Krakowia.  One last thing, though, that I will totally lay at Will's feet is introducing me to HBO's Game of Thrones - hahaha.  I had managed not to watch it since I no longer had HBO after leaving Wilmington. Will showed it to me...and hooked me on yet...ANOTHER show on HBO!!  Sigh... I am now plowing my way through the books and have enjoyed living in the "fantasy" world of Knights, Kings, Imps, Dragons, Dothraki and Sers....as I continue upon my own adventure.