Western Cape, South Africa

Approaching the end of my first week in South Africa, and it is proving to be very much what I had expected.

Stellenbosch, my home town, is really more of an outer suburb of Cape Town. It is South Africa’s second oldest city, dating back to the 1600s and is remarkably well preserved -  many of the building are original or date back to the 1700/1800s. Stellenbosch is essentially a larger, hipper version of Napa or Sonoma, only the town itself is far nicer. It is literally surrounded on all sides by vineyards and mountains, and there are even a number of vineyards in the town itself. The buildings (in the nice – read ‘white’ – areas) are all white washed and immaculate, with green or brown trim… some even sport thatched roofs. From what I gather, this is the area where South Africa’s wealthy come to play and drink lots good wine. There are a number of beaches nearby, though none within walking distance. The closest is the Strand. In and around Cape Town there is also Clifton and Camps Bay – both with white sand, icy turquoise waters and large sharks.

The people here are generally a good looking bunch – think Aryan in the extreme. Blond hair, dark tans, blue eyes, all fit and really tall– you don’t see anyone overweight or out of shape. And the accent is obviously kryptonite (for me at least). Focusing on school might be difficult - I'm finding the men very distracting. They dress differently to back home – more relaxed and preppy. In fact, it is so casual that half the time people don’t bother wearing shoes in the city. In restaurants, in grocery stores, walking down the city street, at the Uni…apparently shoes are not a requirement here – no shoes, no worries – you will still receive service.

There is a black population as well, though their area of town is a township called Kayamandi. I believe it has around 40,000 residents, and looks exactly as they do in movies. Think tin shacks, crushing poverty, filthy. After traveling through the Middle East I have to confess that it does not shock me like it might had I just left Canada. I hate to admit that if I am walking down a street and I am the only white person, it does make me feel a little nervous. The tension that one can feel is actually accentuated in Cape Town more so than here. But nonetheless, it does exist. On my very first day, a black man tried to follow me into the house. Luckily I got our gate locked quickly. All the houses feature electric or barbed wire fencing, jail bar style gates on the doors and windows and alarm systems. Apparently the police are completely useless and corrupt so private security is a must, and many people know special men to call should they need 'help' with crime situations.

The main language is actually Afrikaans, which is a Dutch hybrid of sorts. Thankfully, because I know a fair amount of German I can often read Afrikaans. But speaking it, especially the pronunciations, will be tough. They use that guttural throat sound that Canadians struggle with. I have picked up a few phrases already and hope to have a decent command of the language within six months. In the meantime, luckily Stellenbosch University is bilingual. My old German habits are coming back quickly – I already find myself saying “ja” instead of yes thanks to the years spent in Germany growing up.

There are some other differences as well. Sleeping with mosquito nets in a must for me.  Having a ‘domestic” or as we would say ‘a maid’ is taking some getting used to. I’m scared I’m going to develop some filthy habits once I adapt to someone always cleaning up after me. The quality of things such as food – especially produce – is much lower, and for somewhere that is supposed to have so much seafood, there is no fish at the grocery store. This makes me sad. Also bank fees, cell phones and internet are WAY more expensive than in Canada. Contrary to popular belief, and to my great disappointment, the cost of living isn’t really much cheaper. I had expected it to be so much less. But then again, I think Stellenbosch is a special bubble where things cost five times as much as everywhere else in ZA.

The weather is for the most part spectacular. Sunny, blue skies and hot. Though the sun is perhaps a little too intense a times. Lots of sunscreen, sunhats and even a sun umbrella Asian-style are de rigeur. One thing that is surprising is the wind – it’s actually hard to wear sunhats because they generally get blown off your head. The wind is intense, as in it can blow a full grown person over. Apparently in winter it rains solidly for two months straight, even more so then in Vancouver. But I think I can live with that if it only lasts for a brief spell. All of the streets here feature deep gutters with streams (which make getting out of the passenger side of car doors dangerous – you can easily fall right in), so I expect the rains must be fierce.

I have made some new friends – only a few South Africans, but that is starting to change. I’ve also hooked up with some really nice Germans. I’m trying to avoid too many foreign students as the whole purpose of me being here is to experience ZA culture. There are a ton of Americans at the Uni, which is disappointing… but no Canadians to be found anywhere. I have to say, South Africans love Canadians. I'm mobbed by people when they hear me speak. I haven't had this much attention since I lived in Australia. Secretly, I kind of like it *blush*.  And contrary to the rest of my travels, no one has asked if I'm Chinese, Japanese or Jordanian. I’ve joined a few societies, including photography, the UN, dance and wine, so expect to meet more locals through those. I've also met up with a friend of my former CEO Ron, who's family owns a game reserve north of Johannesburg. I'm planning a trip up there to meet the animals and play with the baby lions. I can't wait! We went for dinner last week with some friends of his that own wineries out in Somerset West. After a fantastic dinner at one of the local vineyards we went to their house on top of the mountain. There was a full moon and the house was set on a vineyard. You could see the lights of Cape Town and Stellenbosch, and the two oceans spread out below. It was...basically...magical. Yes, I like it here very, very much.

Jordan – Amman, Petra, Madaba, Jerash and Mount Nebo

Jordan is a really historically interesting country, but I can’t actually decide if I liked it or not. While there are certain things I want to go back to do (especially sleeping in the desert under the stars [!!!] and a few days snorkeling at Aqaba) I’m not sure I’m in a big hurry to return.

Beyond a doubt, the culture shock is a little overwhelming at first. While there are nice (ish) areas in western Amman, the downtown area looks a little like a war zone. Maybe not third world, but certainly low second. Garbage everywhere, ripped up streets, filthy old shops selling food that looks like it has sat on the shelves for years (I’m sure it has)…unpleasant smells…and weird men following me everywhere muttering obscenities in Arabic. For some reason I expected Jordan to be a little more westernized then it actually is. I have also learned that when looking for accommodation in Middle Eastern cities do not book anything located in the “historic, quaint old city” as this translates to “filthy dump that smells bad, in a decrepit part of town”. I had booked a hotel rather than hostel, and was scared to even take my clothes off to go to bed. The shower only had ice cold water anyway, so all the better reason to not make skin contact with items in my room. Sick. And my private driver managed to get into a huge fight with the hotel slum lord…the police had to come break up the fracas.

One thing I was amused by is the Jordanian’s widespread posting of cheesy portraits of their King in random places. At a gas station, at the bakery, road side, taped to the rear windows of their cars…large portraits of the man crop up everywhere. And they always look like they were taken in the 1980s. This seems like something a tyranic dictator would force his people to do, although apparently he is far from that.

Forget finding an obvious restaurant or café for dining either. There are some rusty little potential food preppish type places here and there, but nothing obvious – no signs, or menus displayed. I was worried I was going to need to survive off of stale cookies from the filthy convenience store that sold everything from sheep’s heads to, well, stale cookies.

The amount of garbage littering the road sides is shocking – even in the middle of the desert. Apparently there is a strong wind that blows it around the country from the city. But I would be highly surprised if there is any organized garbage collection service. Not with this much strewn on the ground. When you see it blowing around the desert, it’s really quite sad. And then you see the street animals picking through it, scrounging for dinner morsels, which is even more sad.

Amman is actually a pretty bleak city. All of the buildings are greige, and the same height. And while the Western suburbs are considered ‘fashionable’ – they are still pretty bland and do not deviate from the standard colour. I suspect that most of the Middle Eastern wealth you hear about is not found in Jordan. Rather, it is really just a patch of desert between Israel and Iraq, desperately trying to maintain a strong tourism industry as a basis for their economy. They are lucky in that so many major historic sites are located within Jordan’s borders.  They also have their own airline now, Royal Jordanian, which I have flown a number of times on these trips. While the fact that they feed you even on short haul flights is appealing, the planes are pretty old and the pilots are atrocious at landing. At first I blamed the weather, but a pattern started to emerge where by the plane would land by just dropping incrementally from the sky, leaving my stomach somewhere up above.

I was stuck with a chain smoking Jordanian local driver for my three days – he was full of unintelligible stories about his dislike of Russian prostitutes and how ‘welcome’ I was (as long as I tipped him largely). They drive like lunatics in Jordan as well. Not that they speed, but rather they completely ignore dividing lanes on the road. On the highway, you cruise in the incoming traffic lanes half the time, both shoulders much of the time, and right down the centre the rest of the time. It’s a good thing they are never in a hurry – although they also don’t believe in breaking when entering turns. There is literally a police station every 500 metres – but they don’t seem to care about the drivers. Hitch hikers and camels, and shepherds with their goat/sheep herds dot the sides of the highway. Apparently hitch hiking is the main mode of transportation, since their buses are unreliable. If you need to get somewhere, you just wander out to the street and some random pick you up. They are very nonchalant and relaxed about this.

Touring Amman was a bit of a non event – it featured the usual obnoxious markets, garbage strewn streets, and mosques – although the King Abdulah mosque did have a pretty funky teal tile pattern going on. There was one pleasant surprise - an impressive Citadel that towers over the city with a great little archaeology museum featuring some of the real Dead Sea Scrolls, pre Greco-Roman art that dates back some 5,000 years and much more, as well as the remains of a temple to Hercules and a Roman theatre. But most importantly, next up was Petra!

The road to Petra takes you through a couple of hundred miles of seriously unforgiving desert terrain, dotted with Bedouin villages, camel herders, and…garbage (of course).  When we finally arrived, cruising through Al Wadi (the modern Petra village) I received my own private Bedouin guide whose parents were Bedouins who had lived in Petra’s remains until the government booted them out. My guide was disarmingly handsome…perfect white teeth, brooding dark eyes, nice nose…it was really funny, we both started blushing when we were introduced. So my tour involved some flirting, giggling…and if I had been overnighting there…well, I know my mom would strangle me if I told her I was in any way, shape or form spending time with a Bedouin in a head dress. Kerrisdale parents don’t understand these things. But it made my day all the better!

 

Anyway, regarding Petra: it is amazing, awe inspiring, and everyone should see it at least once in their life. No number of photos, or watching Indiana Jones movies can prepare you for just how spectacular it really is. You walk through this craggy, narrow winding red rock gorge for about a kilometre (it looks like something from Utah or Arizona), and then just when you’re about to give up, all of a sudden there’s a break in the rock and the Treasury (the most famous building) looms before you. I defy anyone to not gasp when they see it. As you enter the city, it turns out that Petra actually had a population of 35,000, and therefore is huge. Think ornately carved dwellings and temples all over the red rock hillsides. I don’t think my descriptions can even do it justice, so please look at my photos if you get the opportunity. In my opinion, Petra far outdoes the pyramids for impressive ancient ‘wow’ factor.

I also went on my first camel ride. I know it’s touristy, but why not? I can’t think of a better place to do it. Sitting on the hump puts you so high in the air – not the most comfortable. Getting off is difficult as well. But the camels are so sweet – they have the longest eyelashes!

I have only one complaint about Petra – it is infested with these seriously precocious and annoying little Bedouin child thieves. They will try to rob you at any chance they get, so watch your money and camera very closely. And they’re mean little bastards. They look at you with such anger in their eyes. Beware!

The drive back to Amman was nice – through the desert as sunset. The desert really does have spectacular sunsets, followed by pitch blackness through which the stars which seem to shine all the brighter because you are far from city lights.

Other activities in Jordan included a trek to Mount Nebo – the mountain from which Moses surveyed the holy land in the bible before dying. His body is buried somewhere on the mountain, and they have erected a little church over the spot where they suspect it lies. It’s so lovely, covered in olive trees and pure sunshine…it has a mystical feel to it. And the view is unreal from the top…as you stand where Moses stood to make his survey. There’s just a very peaceful energy about the place. I also went to the old city of Madaba which is famous for ancient Roman mosaics, including one that depicts the entire holy land made a could of thousand years ago. Cute town, and while mosaics don’t blow my mind, they were interesting to see.

Last up was a trip to the old Roman city of Jerash. Along with Ephesus, it is the largest and best preserved Roman city ruins. It’s pretty spectacular to walk the colonnaded ancient Roman streets, see where their market place was, their shops, the city gates, the public baths, the temples…it goes on for miles. My guide and I crawled around in the field and picked broken fragments of ancient Roman pottery off the ground – he gave me some to keep for good luck. I’m not sure that’s entirely legal, but I’m stoked to have them none the less. He said that after it rains, you can often find ancient coins in the field. I had no such luck L

At Jerash, there was a young Muslim family with two children shadowing us during the tour, and he pointed out to me how the parents held their children. When the woman carries a child, she holds its head to her heart as this increases the bonding experience. But when the father carries a child, he holds them away from his heart, as the children are not supposed to develop such closeness to their dad. I found this interesting. Perhaps this is none of my business, but I think that more discipline should be used towards children over here. The boys are allowed to run wild – badly behaved, rude, spoiled…total hellions. I don’t mean to generalize, but over and over I have seen it, as have other travelers I have met. A good spanking is needed by many.

I'm not sure what my ultimate opinion on the Jordanian people is either. To be honest, I don't think they are the most trustworthy. I wish so badly I could understand Arabic.I'm sure I would have heard some pretty ridiculous comments. They are friendly with an edge of sinister-ness, and they constantly have their hands out begging for tips - for the tiniest little thing. Considering what the Dinar is worth, this is pretty cheeky. Such blatant greed is truly sad. Nothing, not even a smile, is for free over here.

Abu Dhabi...is a major bust

Well, I’m having some really unfortunate luck today. Apparently there have been tensions brewing between the Canadian and UAE governments for some time now, culminating in massive visa restrictions for Canadians effective January 1, 2011. Which means I am not allowed to leave the Abu Dhabi airport. At all. Damn I wish I had brought my Australian passport along too. Apparently I have Air Canada to thank for this…the root cause of the escalating issue is apparently a desire by Emirates and Etihad to fly into major Canadian cities, but Air Canada is unhappy about the competition this prospect would pose. Aka, AC likes their monopoly and hopes to continue ripping off Canadians to whatever extent they can. As a traveler, I find them pretty nauseating, and avoid Air Canada whenever possible. However Etihad is also underwhelming me. When I checked in this morning they dinged me $300 extra for my luggage weight – and made me include the hand luggage weight in this fee as well. All in all they have been incredibly useless and unhelpful. I won’t be flying them again. So disappointing too, after hearing many stories about how luxurious they are. I’d say Emirates has nothing to worry about with these guys. So, to kill 14 hours at the airport, I will get caught up on my blog and some photos.  

Abu Dhabi is a BUST…

Egypt - Cairo, Giza, Memphis...and the Sphynx /Pyramids!

So many people I have spoken to have described Cairo as ‘the armpit of the world’ and a ‘sh#thole’, but I disagree. I think part of the reason I am not more affected by the dirtiness around me is that at this point I have been fully immersed in the Middle East for three weeks and will now probably suffer culture shock when I return to the western world instead. However, while I find the aesthetics of the city nice, I cannot say the same for the people.

Cairo is huge – its population is 23 million. And Giza, which sits right on the other side of the Nile, is 14 million. So you can imagine the crazy traffic and atmosphere that these two cities combined create. What I think is really cool, is that rather than having rich and poor neighbourhoods, instead it is all mixed together in one huge melee. So you have a beautiful modern high rise beside a burnt out shell, beside an old colonial building. There are many vestiges of the old English influence (tree lined streets, rowing clubs along the Nile), and there is so much colour everywhere you look. The buildings themselves are all covered with a thin film of dirt – everything here is – but then will have brightly painted balconies, doors, laundry hanging from the windows…it’s like a dirty rainbow. Only problem is that your lungs will also be coated with a layer of dirt after a day or so – I need some fresh air!!

The traffic here is ridiculous. Complete and utter chaos. There are no lanes, rather everyone just drives all over the road at extremely high speeds. At night few use their headlights. And as a pedestrian, to cross the street is to literally put your life in their hands – there are no crosswalks and the streets are huge, so you just run across eight lanes of traffic and hope for the best. There is a freeway that forms a ring around the city, which is 12 lanes wide, plus shoulders in which you can find horse and donkey drawn carts alongside cars going 160 km/hour. In the fray are tuktuks, rusted out mini van buses with 30 Arab passengers crammed inside (and some hanging out the door clinging to the roof), scooters with three people squeezed onto one seat, and then top of the lines Mercedes and BMWs. It is best not to look out the front window when in a car.

 

My first order of business was to see the pyramids – so I hired an awesome guide, an Egyptologist named Dalia who took me to the ancient capital of Memphis (where there is a mini sphinx and some huge statues of super-Pharoah Ramses II. We then headed to Saqqara to see the step pyramid, and some little collapsed pyramid remains nearby. It was obviously nice to see in real life, but doesn’t hold a candle to ‘the’ pyramids. Apparently there are actually 120 pyramids throughout Egypt, but the three by the Sphinx are the best preserved and known. The largest, the pyramid of Cheops, is one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. What can I say? They look exactly as you would expect them to. They are massive. You are allowed to climb partway up too, but they feel pretty damn high once you get past the first five rows. Despite warnings about claustrophobia and the fact there is nothing left inside, I decided to buy a ticket to enter one of the pyramids. I feel like it’s something you HAVE to do when in Egypt. You enter through a long passage way cut from rock that is only 3.5-4 feet tall for 100-plus metres, and you have to hunch/crawl the entire way. It definitely isn’t for the claustrophobic or anyone with a bad back. While there are only burial chambers remaining, I still thought it was pretty cool to be inside of a pyramid and am glad I did it. I also came back to the pyramids the next night to see the laser light show, which features a recording by Omar Shariff about their history. It was really beautiful to watch the sun set over them, and then to see them lit up in the dark was totally breathtaking. I think they actually looked far more majestic by night. It probably helped that there wasn’t 5,000 people crawling around the bases. Although in my opinion Petra in Jordan is the more impressive of the two attractions, the pyramids are obviously a must see. Again, just as with many things I have seen on this trip, it is totally surreal to stand before them. Even more surreal to see that Cairo literally reaches the bases, and there is a Pizza Hut and KFC not 300 metres from where they stand. I ended up buying some tacky tourist mementos, even though I said I wouldn’t. Pure oils made from flowers here are cheap, so I opted for some jasmine scent, a tiny Nefertiti pendant, and another with my name in hyroglyphs. What can I say, I got caught up in the moment.

The sky here is really spectacular, though kind of hard to describe. It will be white and fog-like (mist-fog-pollution all rolled into one), and yet through the mist you can see the sun glowing white hot. It’s eerie, and yet, you can absolutely imagine that it looked this way over ancient Egypt 4,000 years ago.

Anyway, the next day I had another tour booked, this time of Coptic and Islamic Cairo, which included a number of beautiful old mosques – including the White Mosque, which is based on the Blue Mosque in Istanbul. I visited the old city, which looks like it was in a recent war (think roofs missing, burned out shells of buildings, and the smell of urine everywhere). There is also an old Coptic section of Cairo (Coptic refers to Egyptian Christians), so we walked through the narrow winding streets, and I visited the old museum, and the famous Hanging Church, and Church of the Virgin Mary which features a grotto down below where Jesus and Mary stayed while in Egypt. I also visited the Gayer Anderson Museum, which I loved! It is the house of an English military officer, who was an avid collector of Islamic art and curiosities. The museum houses many treasures and features elaborate wood and wrought iron, and décor themes from various Arabesque and Islamic backgrounds.

For day three I decided to go it alone which ended up being really horrible and stressful. First off, I headed to the famous Egyptian Museum, which is mind blowing if you are at all into Egyptology. Seeing the mummy of Ramses II and finally seeing Tutenkhamen’s funeral mask were both memorable, and there are just so many phenomenal things there. Sadly, they don’t let you take any pictures. Of course, with my luck, my visit was ruined when I realized that I had some creep following me, who would not leave me alone. I officially dislike Arab men.

Then I walked down to the garbage strewn Nile River for a boat cruise. Despite the filthy water, the scenery is really nice and of course it feels epic to be cruising along the famous Nile River. In Cairo the Nile is lined with modern five-plus start hotels, boat nightclubs and marinas. Our boat actually crashed right in to another boat – so it seems like they drive on water as they do on land here.

I managed to have some horrid run-ins with the local gentlemen over the last day or so. At first I was lucky, since I was sheltered by private guides but I now realize that in Cairo, that is in fact the only smart way to travel. People approach you here on the street and say the stupidest things. Two examples:

I went for an evening walk across the bridge, which I had been told was safe, but some guy came up to me and said “I’m going to kill you.” Awww, thanks. Today I was approached by another charmer who said “Welcome to Egypt, you white idiot.” Yes, they are lovely. I also had one freak in turquoise eye-liner (guy-liner?) harass me really badly, and another loser with what appeared to be pink eye offer me directions (he seemed innocuous enough out for his power walk), but then of course tried to lure me into his friend’s shop and stared screaming “BYE BYE! BYE BYE!” with a red, rage filled face at me down the street when I had the temerity to say “no thank you’. I actually had to motion for a police officer to come help me – thankfully they are absolutely everywhere here, especially since the latest bombing. Not so thankfully, they are too busy leering at you to actually assist. Quite a few women here wear the full on burqa, and I now think I understand why. If I had to put up with men like these on a regular basis, I would choose to cover my face and body as well. Apparently it really is the woman’s choice to wear them – and I don’t doubt as to why they do. It must be quite liberating for them.

I have entered into political conversations with many of the more civilized locals I have encountered (think tour guides, a lawyer, hotel people – not the street freaks), and it’s really interesting to hear their perspectives. People here tend to like Americans as people, but they hate Bush with a passion. And none of them believe that Egypt is producing any terrorists. Rather they think that outside countries such as Yemen are trying to cause trouble here with bombings, to create a rift between the Christians and the Muslims. I’m inclined to believe them – there really is no religious tension here, and people seem pretty harmonious. They seem to believe the conspiracy theories about 9/11 being an inside US government/CIA job quite strongly.

Even though it is winter here, I have managed to acquire three large mosquito bites on my face. One on my forehead, and one of each cheek. And they are itchy bastards too! I’m trying SO hard not to scratch. But they are definitely killing my photo mojo.

Jerulsalem-Bethlehem-Ramallah-Masada-Dead Sea

The past few days have been jam packed, what with activities, new friends, nightlife etc.

My day trip to Masada and the Dead Sea on Saturday was amazing. We drove out of Jerusalem into the Judean desert, through a Palestinian checkpoint guarded by Arabs in Bedouin dress with machine guns. The desert is starkly beautiful with beige sand dunes that stretch for as far as they eye can see, and giant cliffs dotted with caves. Some of these caves are actually where the Dead Sea scrolls were found. As you draw closer to the coast, it starts to resemble the Grand Canyon a little but in different shades of brown. En route, we passed a number of Bedouin tent settlements, shepherds herding their goats, and camel caravans crossing the desert. In one spot there were a few decrepit convenience stores by the side of the road…and instead of cars parked out front, there were camels lined up in the parking lots! I am often struck by just how completely different and even primitive every day life can be here.  People’s lives seem so simple! Like, where will I herd my goats today?

Masasda is straight up spectacular – there is no other word for it. It was a winter palace of King Herod and was the location of one of ancient history’s most famous sieges (the inhabitants committed mass suicide rather than submit to Roman slavery).  It is located on the top of a very narrow mountain (about 450 m in height) overlooking the desert, the Dead Sea and Jordan, and surrounded by very sheer and sharp cliffs.  The only ways to the top are via a precarious looking staircase that puts the Grouse Grind to shame (not for the feint of heart), or by cable car. My fear of heights dictated I take the cable car. Once you reach the top, you have to walk along narrow wooden walk ways (more like planks, really) to get from the cable car station into the main fortress area. I needed to be coaxed to let go of the railing that I was clinging to in terror. Luckily I met a nice American who helped distract me for long enough to guide me to the mountain top fortress area. We toured around the massive fortress remains, which included catapults, Roman baths and Roman soldier camps from well over 2000 years ago.  The views were unreal and the sky here, especially over the desert emits a light like I have never seen before. Imagine dark clouds that form visible shadows over the desert landscape, but with breaks where they split open and one bright beam of sunlight shows through. It actually looks almost mystical. I can see how people viewed it as the holy land.

Next up was the Dead Sea, which was fun. Even though we picked one of the ten rainy days the area sees all year for our trip, the water by En Gedi was still really warm –it’s actually like getting into a bathtub, except lined with really sharp rocks. Once you’re in, it’s impossible to submerge your body for more than a few seconds. Every time you try, you float right back to the surface again. Any objects you may have with you float on the surface as well. A thin, foamy layer of salt coats the top of the water, and surprisingly, some waves. It almost feels like you’re flying, but you have little control as to what direction your body starts floating in…it’s pretty fun, and I didn’t want to get out. Unfortunately, I did the two things that everyone warned me not to do – though not intentionally. First, I got some water in my mouth. It tastes vile! Not just insanely salty, but almost toxic. Second, I got water in my eyes - AGONY! I was literally temporarily blind. Otherwise, it was awesome and the setting was spectacular, surrounded by the giant desert cliffs, Jordan on one side, Israel on the other. Once you get out, you are desperate for a shower – think salt coated dread locks and a thick, crusty film of salt on your skin.

Another day, I met a fellow traveler from New Zealand and we headed off to Bethlehem together, with the help of a local guide. It turned into a far more interesting trip than expected. We visited a Palestinian refugee settlement (the living conditions were really disturbing) and went to a local refugee centre of sorts for Arabic coffee and to discuss their plight. Israel has built a huge concrete wall lined with sensors and barbed wire reminiscent of the Berlin wall along the border (which seems quite arbitrary), and the Palestinians have decorated it with freedom themed murals featuring portraits of martyrs and children that have died in the struggle. Banksy, the famous graffiti artist has actually visited the area and done a number of paintings along the wall.

We next visited the centre of Bethlehem, and went for a wander through the streets. Many of the stores were closed since they only sell Christmas merchandise – though Armenian Orthodox Christmas is coming soon. I bought some really nice embroidered pouches that the local refugee women make to raise money as souvenirs. The other main thing they sell there, besides horrifyingly tacky Christmas kitsch, is carvings made from olive tree wood. Apparently this is what the town is known for.

Next up was the Church of the Nativity, which was obviously a big deal. I found it totally surreal actually. It’s really, really hard to wrap your mind around the fact that you are in the manger where Jesus was born. I’m not religious per se, but couldn’t help but feel awe. The church is beautiful inside – partially decorated in the glitzy manner of

Greek/Armenian Orthodox, partly simple. It has been destroyed and rebuilt at least once through history, but the grotto, which is the downstairs area where the manger was located, has survived. Hadrian marked the exact spot with a star, so the location of His birth has survived through history. My only complaint is the number of tourists and the way people consistently behave in spots like this. Even though it was a slow day by usual standards, there was plenty of budging, shoving and hogging going on. Also worth noting, the courtyard and statues by the church was riddled with bullet holes (as are many places in Jerusalem), mostly from a siege by gunmen back in the 1990s. After the church we visited the Milk Cave where legend has it Mary spilled two drops of milk while feeding Jesus…it is now regularly visited by the pious looking for help with conception and fertility.

Other stops included full tours of Jerusalem’s Old City, which as I wrote previously is actually a nightmarish blend of aggressive Arab vendors and cheap junk, and incredibly fascinating religious sites (called ‘stations’). The Church of the Holy Sepulchre features one of two potential tombs of Christ, as well as “The Cross”. We waited nearly an hour to crawl into the tomb for a 30 second visit, but it was amazing to see and worth it! We actually saw a ritual of some sort carried out in the tomb by orthodox priests and a choir of altar boys. There is also the Via Delarosa, the route where Christ is thought to have walked to his crucifixtion bearing the cross on his back, the Western (or Wailing) Wall, where you can see people of all denominations praying and stuffing notes between the cracks. The Temple Mount is considered the holiest spot for Jews, and third holiest for Muslims and includes the ornately tiled and 24 karat golden roofed Dome of the Rock, which houses Mohamed’s footprint. Only Muslims are allowed to enter the dome, which is guarded by men with machine guns. The entire Temple Mount is only even open to tourists for a few hours on certain days (it is under Muslim control), and when we overstayed our welcome by three minutes past closing, were yelled at and forcibly removed by heavily armed soldiers. We also visited the Garden Tomb, which is where the Protestants believe Christ was interred, walked along the ramparts of the Old City, visited the Mount of Olives where Mary’s tomb is located, the Church on Mount Zion where Mary ascended to heaven and where we had a horrible run in with a thieving Arab devil child who needed a good spanking, toured the old walls underneath the city (a totally claustrophobic experience), and so, so much more. The fellow travelers I befriended who were of religious background found the entire experience to be awe inspiring as did I, though from a purely historical perspective.

The Old City is a crazy maze of alleyways and narrow streets, in which even the most street savvy traveler will get totally lost – and harassed by the horrible Arab merchants who offer you directions then try to make you buy something from their stores.  I just put on my bitch face and ignored them as much as possible, though I met a few travelers who were sucked into their scams. Horrible people! There are large gates that mark the entrances – the Damascus Gate, Zion Gate, Jaffa Gate, Dung Gate etc…all from ancient times and pointing towards their respective name places.

The nightlife in Jerusalem actually isn’t bad. We went out most nights and always found fun things to do. We had one wild all-nighter (on Shabbat of all nights) at a club that featured hands down the best electro house DJ I have ever heard. We also hit up a number of pubs, drank terrible Israeli wine (tastes like apple juice gone bad) and vodka (tastes like Anise) and finally got around to smoking a sheesha. Luckily I made lots of friends on tours and at the backpackers (all guys, but that worked out well because I was harassed much less when I had men in tow), including a *very* tall and cute Brazilian named Pedro, who has invited me to come stay with him in Brazil. We wanted to try and meet up again in Israel to spend some more time together, but unfortunately he’s living on a Kibutz and can’t escape until the day after I leave for Cairo. Pooh! In general, Israel attracts a different kind of traveler – not the sleazy party animals you find elsewhere. People come here looking for religious, spiritual and political experiences. It’s a place to have fun but to also have interesting conversations and meet people with some depth – which I very much liked.

The food is fantastic, and I am definitely not fitting well into many of my pants after eight days here. Everything is so rich. Pastries are everywhere, as are falafels, shwarmas and the BEST waffles I have ever eaten in my life.

The tension runs high in Jerusalem – it is the opposite of Tel Aviv’s carefree energy. I’d say Hasidic Jews make up a solid 50% or so of the population, and holy men, monks nuns and friars of all denominations are found in high concentrations all over the city. Actually, I was followed by a Hasidic for two hours the other day – and he tried to ask me out. It was totally bizarre, because they aren’t even supposed to talk to non-familial women. I think it made his year when I shook his hand, ‘touching’ him. The little guy was actually really sweet and shy, but…well…Hasidics aren’t quite my style. Actually, I saw a big altercation on Jaffa Street yesterday afternoon when some Hasidic Jews tried to knock over a statue on the street (they are opposed to all statues and street art), and proceeded to get into a big flight with an Arab shopkeeper. It got pretty nasty, but was a good illustration of how tense the city can feel. It is not a harmonious coexistence here – about the only thing people can all agree on is that they all dislike the Hasidics who are apparently tax evaders and military service dodgers. Jerusalem has a heavy energy, and is a far poorer city than Tel Aviv. I can’t say I was sad to leave.

For my final morning, Alex and I once again headed over the border into Palestine with a private guide, this time to visit Ramallah and El-Bierah– the capital. Arafat’s tomb and presidential palace are located there, as are some large and notorious refugee settlements. Construction is everywhere, and I was surprised to find many nice buildings, most of which belong to the wealthier Christian Palestinians. UN vehicles and compounds are ubiquitous, as are the World Bank and various NGOs. Israel recognizes Palestine as separate, yet keeps their military there in full force and has road check points dispersed throughout the country. They deny the Palestinians everything (even entry into Israel) and the place is covered in garbage since they aren’t even allowed to form their own garbage collection service. But the people are surprisingly resilient, and the ones we stopped to speak with were decent, good and intelligent people. There are NO tourists there at all, so we were quite an anomaly. But no one bothered us, or tried to sell us crap – except for a few impoverished children asking for coins…it was a pleasant change.

Unfortunately, leaving Israel was far from enjoyable. You need to arrive at the airport four hours prior to your flight time to complete the massive security checks. They rip apart all of your luggage – and go though everything invasively, asking the strangest questions. I was interrogated because I made the mistake of putting each of a pair of shoes in different suitcases. And they could not fathom that a female could be traveling in the Middle East by herself. And once they complete the hour-plus check of your checked suitcase, they then escort you to the ticket counter, and put you through another hour-plus inspection of your hand luggage. Exhausting!

Goodbye Tel Aviv, Hello Jerusalem

I was sad to spend my last day in Tel Aviv today. Even though I have seen and done all of the touristy things, it’s the kind of city in which I could never spend enough time. I was really sad to leave! For my final morning I went to the beach and sat in the sunshine – it must have been 25 degrees - and watched a steady parade of elderly men in their Speedos (apparently it’s not just the Germans and Greeks!) head into the chilly waters. Not shabby for the middle of winter. I also dropped by a local artists market that runs on Fridays…all in all an ideal morning.

Last night I went for a late night jog along the beach up to the port of Old Jaffa, to try to work off the spare tire caused by all the baked goods consumed. It was such a perfect night – the stars were out, it was warm, the waves were crashing against the shore. Old Jaffa sits on a hill over looking the Mediterranean, and the old winding streets were lit with lanterns and the strains of a jazz band playing live music on a roof top permeated the alleyways below. The coastline of Tel Aviv, dominated by large hotels, was lit for miles like a rainbow. Basically, it was one life’s perfect moments – the kind you wish would never end. I think it’s so rare to have those moments of total peace, clarity and happiness. But Tel Aviv is just that kind of city.

Yesterday I also took a train to the old city of Acre.  I went with a couple of Israeli guys from the hostel who spoke not a word of English. Made for an interesting ride – lots of grunting and hand gesturing. Anyway, Acre was built by the Crusaders (Knights Templar) and buried to prevent their return for hundreds of years following their defeat. Excavations have just begun in the last 20 years. Acre is way up the coast in northern Israel, but by express train it’s only 1.5 hours and is a coastal resort town very popular with Israelis in the summer. It is much more Arabic than Tel Aviv. They have uncovered loads of tunnels, tombs and caverns underneath the giant Citadel in the old city quarter. I spent the day literally crawling around subterranean passageways used by the knights during sieges and wars. Some of the tunnels are so short, they aren’t even five feet tall. Definitely not an activity for the claustrophobic. But such a fun way to spend a day – I totally felt like Indiana Jones.

Today (Friday) is known as Shabbat in Israel, which means that all public transportation stops running, all stores close…life pretty much grinds to a standstill from around 2pm until Saturday evening. So, I decided that after lunch would be a good time to head to Jerusalem. Because I had so many large, heavy suitcases (I look like a total shopaholic, though I keep trying to explain that I’m in the midst of moving which is why I have so much stuff) I decided to splurge and take a taxi the whole way. My driver smelled pretty ripe, but was an improvement over the last cab driver who kept asking if my parents were Chinese or Japanese, and then kept staring at me in the rear view mirror and pulling his eyes sideways the way children do when impersonating Chinese people – followed by cackling because he thought he was really funny. *Sigh*.

I am of two minds about this city. My first impression of Jerusalem is one of disappointment. The city is far dirtier than Tel Aviv…and is completely beige, just like Amman. The old city is riddled with deformed beggars, bratty, thieving Arab children and pest-like market stall hustlers. This is the first place on this trip I have been genuinely concerned about my purse being snatched. I guess scummier types are attracted to an area like the Old Holy City, because they can prey on the generosity of gullible tourists on religious pilgrimage.

The Old City was not at all what I expected. It is filled with market stalls selling total junk. Cheap, tacky Jesus merchandise (including Jesus sandals everywhere) and the same old crap you see at the street markets in the other cities. I think the merchants are even MORE aggressive here then in Istanbul, to the point where I found myself starting to get angry. Especially with the beggar children who just won’t leave you alone. You get rid of one, the next comes along.

On the other hand, it is almost surreal to be in close proximity to these places of such historic significance. For instance, there’s a spot where you place your hand on Jesus’ hand print on the Via Delarosa, where he stopped to rest with the cross on his back on his way to crucifixion. And the purported location of the Last Supper is just down the street. It’s hard to actualize in my mind that such events took place in these locations where I am now standing. It gives me tingles when I think about it.

The Dome of the Rock was closed to non-Muslims today, so I went to the Wailing (Western) Wall instead. The religion here is almost stifling. Hasidic Jews are ubiquitous – as are priests, monks, Muslims, Holy Men, Nuns…of all ethnicities – you name it, they're there. It makes me feel almost guilty – I was raised without religion and I felt like a total imposter standing at the Wailing Wall waiting for good photo opportunities while people prayed, cried, and stuffed notes between the cracks. But being there does have the effect of making you want to be a better person. You can’t help but think about spirituality and evaluate your beliefs in the presence of such devotion. However the shocking way people push and shove their way around, budging in front of each other to get close to the wall, to make their way through the streets to get to their places of worship…seems selfish and very non-religious to me. Strange the way people can treat each other sometimes, especially in a place like this. I can’t say I really enjoyed the old city much, but will probably spend most of my time in Jerusalem there as it contains most of the important sights.

Tomorrow I’m off to the mountain fortress of Masada and the Dead Sea. I’m hoping the rain storm that enveloped Jerusalem this evening has stopped by then. Also sad that I’m going to look like a pork chop in my bikini for my requisite ‘floating on the Dead Sea’ photo after all of the recreational eating undertaken recently.

I was horrified when I walked into my room at the hostel here and saw my roommate – a mulleted Texan who must be pushing 50. Sheesh. We had a weirdo in our room at the hostel in Tel Aviv as well. Some crazy grandma (must have been 70), who started hitting my friend while she slept and called her a bed stealing whore. Ah the joys of backpacking. You meet some great people, you meet some freaks. Luckily the good outweigh the bad.

Yay Israel!

Following the dryness, dustiness and dirtiness of Jordan, Tel Aviv has provided a welcome and refreshing respite. In fact, it's jockeying for a position on my top five cities list alongside Buenos Aires, Sydney, Boston and Bath.

While it would be a stretch to call the locals friendly, they aren’t constantly trying to rip you off and are pleasant enough. Very few speak any English which I have to confess is not what I expected to find. Nor is most signage in English – which makes ordering in restaurants very difficult, or trying to read labels at the grocery store, or catching a bus…the list goes on. Trying to read Hebrew is like trying to read Cantonese and it’s a little alarming when you can’t understand anything around you (more so than in China, where I found that they tried to post pigeon English signage for the benefit of tourists). Normally, I tend to think it’s the tourist’s responsibility to pick up a few words of the local dialect in order to get by, but in the case of Hebrew that’s near impossible.

The city itself is a temple to Bauhaus style architecture. In fact, there are a series of white Bauhaus originals dating back to the 1930s scattered along Rothschild Boulevard that received UNESCO World Heritage status. Unfortunately, I would have to rate them as the most disappointing UNESCO site I have seen to date. But (although I haven’t been), I suspect there are many similarities between Tel Aviv and Miami from an architectural standpoint. Their buildings both predominantly hail from the same era and feature a similar, bleached out, sorbet colour scheme- think lavenders, dusty mandarin oranges, lemon yellows, sky blues, aquas and mint greens. I also spent quite a few hours pleasantly lost on my first day, which ended up being a great way to get a feel for the city. It is composed of small neighbourhoods, each unique and with real personality. Even the downtown core features little cafes, boutiques, antique jewelry stores and much more. And you’re never far from the beach. Old Jaffa is a real treat with its winding alleyways dotted with artist’s work spaces and homes. In fact, though originating in biblical times (Ramses II once controlled Jaffa, it if often mentioned in Bible passages), it is now an artists colony inhabited by local painters and artisans, and even the Vatican’s embassy is situated there.

The beaches are gorgeous – combining the turquoise water of the Mediterranean with soft, golden talc like sand. Palm trees, bars dotting the beach – I can only imagine how much fun this city must be during the summer. Even now, in their supposed winter (think 20 degrees and still beautiful – ie- June in Vancouver), there is a certain lightness in the air. Surfing, windsurfing and kite boarding are hugely popular.

Tel Aviv is a city dedicated to art, and you can find inspiration around absolutely every corner. Even mundane and ordinarily ugly fixtures are made beautiful here. Think painted, colourful pipes, decorated garbage cans and recycling bins – you name it. Doorways on homes are enhanced with artful expressions; walls and parking garages feature flourishes such as sculpture or tile work. Even the graffiti is beautiful. In my opinion, this city is what Berlin wants to be – except that Tel Aviv is the real thing whereas Berlin is littered with pretentious ‘artiste’ poseurs who flock there because of its reputation. In fact, I hope TA remains undiscovered in order to preserve its authenticity, though I doubt this will remain the case as its international reputation as a culture rich destination is on the rise.

I can’t rave quite so much about the local fashion sense (think polyester, pleather and LOTS of sequins). However, the home wares are amazing. For anyone like me who is obsessed with interior design and collecting antique or vintages ceramics, furniture and various kitsch for the home, I would rank the street markets and small stores a close second to those in Buenos Aires and Paris. It makes me sad that I don’t actually have a home of my own anymore for which to make purchases.

The food here is straight up incredible. I predict I will be leaving this country a solid ten pounds heavier thanks to the Jewish bakeries, the ice cream, even the breakfast food (eggs poached in a tomato based stew, fried eggplant with potatoes). I’m excited for every single meal here and the food just adds an extra edge of amazing-ness to an already incredible place.

After the harsh desert climate in Jordan, Israel provides a stark contrast - the first thing I noticed was the large grassy fields, agriculture and lushness of the city. Everywhere you look you see fig trees, orange trees, vines, palms and flowers.

The population seems to be overwhelmingly young – I would hazard a guess that the majority are under 40. They are sophisticated, worldly, and sharp people – I have made conversation with a few locals and they all refer to how their mandatory year stint in the military has smartened them up. This morning, one of my roommates and I hopped on a local bus (a little scary since they feature only Hebrew), and sat across from a guy with a machine gun casually slung across his lap. Another roommate complained that the guy beside her on the train’s machine gun kept bumping her leg while they rode. Such are the realities of life here though. You can tell that people choose to live to the fullest, likely because they live with the constant threat of war looming over their heads. Not that you can feel this as a visitor, because you really can’t. Judaism is also far less predominant than I expected. While you see the occasional Yarmulke, I have only encountered two Hasidic Jews so far. Though I hear that in Tel Aviv the religion is to party as much as possible, where as in Jerusalem the religion is intense and all pervasive Judaism and Christianity.

All in all, I can’t say enough good things about Tel Aviv. If I had the option, I would relocate here in an instant. It’s hard to believe you are in the Middle East when wandering through the almost colonial streets, lined with colourful houses and blooming gardens. It feels far more like a cross between Spain and the more sophisticated cities of South America.

Next up – off to Haifa and Akko to see ruins from the Crusaders, then Jerusalem.

Istanbul...Gateway to the Middle East

The best way to describe Istanbul is to call it a melting pot...on steroids. With a population of between 15-20 million, it spreads as far as the eye can see, and still further. But unlike LA, the population is densely packed making it impossible to ever be alone...to the degree that at times it becomes mentally exhausting.

It has taken me a few days to get used to my new surroundings - for only the second time in my travels, I have to admit to suffering some culture shock. Although Turkey has some similarities to Greece, it is definitely not Europe anymore.

The food here is a mixed bag. While there are some things that I must rave about - Turkish Delight is sinfully delicious, they have the most amazing puddings, doners (donairs back home) and everything eggplant - I do desperately miss vegetables, something that those who know me well will laugh at. An anemic tomato, some wilted  lettuce and olives (even for breakfast) are the best you can expect. Pita and bread seem to dominate every meal. Though I must give them props where due - the bread here is ridiculously good. My friend Diana and I have a borderline obsession with it at our breakfast cafe. They are also big on fresh squeezed juice: on every street there are literally two-three stalls selling fresh squeezed pomegranate, orange and pineapple juices (I happily take this over the ubiquitous Starbucks outlets in Vancouver). And the pomegranate is so, so good. As is the cider-like apple tea served everywhere. Turkish coffee I am less enamored with. The bottom half of the cup consists of chalky rinds and the top half is watery.

The streets here are lined with cozy looking cafes, each with its own hustler on the street to lure (harass) passerbys into patronage. They blast melodramatic Turkish music on extra loud, and many feature tiny chairs and even tinier tables (think children's play sets) or cushions on the floor with low lying tables that make the temptation to having a nap after your meal very strong. These seating arrangements...well, I could get used to lying around on giant cushions while I eat. It feels quite luxurious.

About the people I will say this: the Turkish are born hustlers. Everywhere you go, you are followed by cries "Lady, yes please!" (whatever that means), and when they're not busy proposing, they're selling. God forbid you so much as look in a store window - they will descend on you like vultures. That being said, I have met some gems. We are spoiled rotten with free Turkish Delight at another of our regular haunts. They find the fact that we are Chilean and Canadian quite impressive - apparently neither of our nationalities are found often in Turkey. The Turks I have engaged with regularly are sweet, endearing and warm.  And, it seems like all locals I talk to want to move to Canada. I also met a really nice Turkish grad student from Minneapolis at the Chicago airport, and he took me out to show me where the locals really hang out yesterday - I demanded an authentic Turkish experience and he complied graciously. On the other end of the spectrum is the gypsies - they tend to towards sour. I was also surprised to find how many women wear the traditional Muslim dress and burqas here.

By far, the strangest and most entertaining evening spent to date was our trip to the Hamam, also known as the Turkish baths. I will be the first to admit that modesty has never been one of my stronger virtues (I blame the fact that I'm half German for this), but I have to admit feeling a little uncomfortable throughout this activity. First, you strip down completely. Then  you walk into a steaming room full of other naked women. The masseurs (at least in this case) were all hefty, mature (read: well over 50) women wearing nothing but tiny panties.  You lie on a giant marble slab (don't even get me started on the bacterial possibilities presented by the fact that thousands of people have been bathed naked on these slabs...and disinfecting doesn't go beyond soap and water) and are rubbed, exfoliated and bent within an inch of your life by the panty clad matrons. I was also initially horrified when we walked in to find a giant cockroach waiting for us at the baths, which were an impressive 458 years old by the way. However, my local friend told me that in Turkish 'cockroach' actually translates to "Hamam bug"...so, basically, an encounter is to be expected.

 We also watched of a Sufi ceremony featuring Whirling Dervishes. I was impressed in that I cannot fathom how they spin for as long as they do. I would have tipped over from sheer dizziness. However, they believe spinning brings one to a meditative state close to enlightenment. I do find the ideology of their sect endearing: they believe in taking from above and giving all to those around them while keeping nothing for themselves. As they spin, one hand is turned upwards to the sky, as if to receive from god. The other points downwards, as if channeling what is received from above directly to those below...they see themselves as a direct funnel of sorts.

We also enjoyed a cruise up the Bospherous, though it was bitterly cold. Istanbul sits on two continents - Europe and Asia, with a large bridge joining the two. The cruise provided us with an opportunity to visit the Asian side. While it is apparently more affluent, and where the locals hang out...our stop over didn't really impress me. It actually looked how I would picture communist Russia to look back in the day. Early 20th century dirty generic buildings without charm.

There are also hundreds (maybe thousands) of mosques that dot the city, dominating the skyline. They are really quite awe inspiring when you first touch down and the view from the harbour of these giant structures is very impressive. To arrive in Istanbul for the first time by boat must be an incredible experience. We visited a couple - the famous Blue Mosque, and also the New Mosque. While from the outside they are spectacular, from the inside mosques are quite bare...the exception is the Hagia Sophia which is definitely worth a full visit. They all feature incredible ceramic tile work.

We didn't do much shopping, but no trip to Istanbul is complete without a jaunt to the Grand Bazar and the Spice Market. Imagine more than 4,000 shops all crammed into a massive, historic labyrinth with interweaving pathways...you could literally get lost for a week trying to find your way out of these places. The merchants are ridiculous - you have never heard such nonsense spouted by sales people...and aggressive doesn't even begin to describe their tactics. They sell everything from kitchen sinks to fine jewelry (though I don't know who in their right mind would buy jewels in a place so full of counterfeit everything). Haggling for deals is truly tiring. On the city streets, there seem to be blocks devoted to specific items. For examples - there are three blocks that feature only lighting stores. There are three blocks with only musical instrument stores, same with office supplies, optics...etc. There is a main street, Istikal, which must run for two kms, and is full of clothing stores and cafes - and is so crowded that you are literally pressed shoulder to shoulder...all the while trams and crazy taxi drivers are trying to plow through the crowds. It is chaos but entertaining. We managed to get lost trying to find the Spice Market (forget trying to use street maps here, they are useless), and had to ask for directions. We were lead down a steep, busy hill by a little worker man, yelling for everyone to get out of our way as we followed him and his trolly down the street. He was quite the escort.

Istanbul features an incredibly rich history, with a blend of Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman ruins and architecture...and possibly more. The Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace (where you can find a stick that belonged to Moses and Mohamed's footprint), Domabrasche (sp?) Palace, Galata Tower and so much more are all must sees. There's also a measuring stone that marks the spot that was considered the centre of the known universe in the Byzantine era - all distances were measured from this point. There are even Egyptian obelisks!

Final thoughts - Turkey is very, very expensive. For the quality of what you get here, things are extremely over priced. There are few, if any, good deals to be found. And if you are an animal person, the sheer number of homeless dogs and cats will break your heart. The people, while a little melodramatic, are generally good sorts who have resisted Westernization (it's been nice to visit a country where they listen to their own music and don't have horrible Beyonce type music wailing in the background EVERYWHERE). And the way people drive here is totally out of control - yet they never have car accidents. I guess when everyone drives like a maniac, they have mutual understanding. The rules of the road are : no rules. But Turkey looks like a spectacular country and I will definitely be back to explore more historic areas and the countryside.