Ileftgood

It took a while for me to acclimate myself to the harsh, cold weather Istanbul had to offer after leaving the warm beaches of Goa. A long while. However, landing in a city where the livestock count was down to a cool zero, sidewalks were prevalent and the constant stares at a bare minimum (or at least no more than I’m usually subjected to) I felt more at home than I had in five months. Oddly enough it happened in the first predominately Muslim country I’d visit. I found Istanbul to be far more cosmopolitan than I expected. Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. What I stumbled upon was a city full of people who had a very cool, relaxed attitude toward their religion and a fantastic public transportation system. Seattle, take note: light-rail can work quite well when done properly.

I spent the first few days trudging around the main areas of Istanbul, checking out a few of the sights near by my hostel (conveniently located just steps away from the Blue Mosque). Around day two I grabbed a cup of cai with another traveler I’d met at the hostel the night before. Piti, from Thailand, was on month three of his own world adventure. He had just gone through Mongolia, taken the Trans-Siberian Railway through to Russia and was now making his way through Turkey. He asked what I had planned to do while I was there and as I often tell people when I arrive in a new country I said, “No idea.” He mentioned he was planning a little trip out East to a small town called Safronbolu and asked if I’d like to tag along. Having no plan of my own, I decided to take him up on his offer. The next day we shoved off. If India was one of the most difficult places to travel through, Turkey is the complete opposite. Never before in my life have I seen attendants on a bus…but here they were; offering water, coffee, cai, little cakes and occasionally a dash of after-shave cologne. The seats were large and comfortable, the bus clean and the television volume at a less than ear-bleeding level. It was as if I died and ended up in some kind of vagabond heaven.

The draw to this hamlet of Safronbolu was the abundance of Ottoman style homes and architecture. We arrived well after dark but trekked our way into the small town and found a place in one of the aforementioned homes turned hostel in which to stay. The following night we found our selves a Hammam (Turkish bath) in which to retreat from the cold. It was an interesting experience and about as close to a prison shower scene as I ever want to get. After laying on a slab of hot marble, sweating more profusely than I had since Camboida, a Turk (the size of a man cut from the front line of the Chicago Bears for being too big…and hairy) ushered me into a room, threw me on a table and proceeded to bend, twist, arc, tilt and yaw me until a sufficient number of cracks and snaps occurred in various joints. He then soaped me up and proceeded to scrub me like a newly dug potato removing the last five months of travel soot and most of my Goa tan right off me. It was…incredibly thorough. Still, I don’t think I’d ever been cleaner.

Eventually we made our way back to Istanbul, where I would remain another couple of days before heading out on my own to check out what the Southern bits of Turkey had to offer…but not before I lost a game of dice which resulted in my being made up by an Australian girl, Tess, at the hostel which ended with me having “I heart penis” written on my forehead in waterproof mascara…which wasn’t part of the bet, thank you. Fun times.

I left Istanbul once again; took a bus and checked out various sights down though the South of Turkey all of which were very nice and very cold. I stayed in a cave hotel a couple of nights in Capadoccia which is exactly like you would imagine a cave hotel to be. Sadly for me, there was no heat and no hot water…who decides to stay in a cave in the dead of winter? I don’t know what bears are thinking. I traveled along for a week or so and found myself in a town called Selcuk where I was fortunate to meet a brother/sister traveling duo from Korea; a guy from Rome, Fabio and the proprietors of the Hotel Artemis, Salamon, his Serbian wife Ivana and their brother Ibrahim. It was there I would spend my New Years Eve having a ball and splitting a bottle of Jack with Salamon. Not a bad way to kick off ‘09.

I returned to Istanbul, to my hostel where I was now friends with the majority of the staff and relaxed for a few days with a 20 hour bus ride to Athens in my future. The morning I was to leave, the people at the bus station told me the buses weren’t running that day due to the land border being closed. Apparently there was some kind of strike happening in Greece, which I found happens quite often…so, I opted to fly in the following day. I spent two days in Athens…not a whole lot of time to do much of anything…so I didn’t. I met up with the brother/sister duo I’d met in Turkey and hung out with them for a day wandering around the city. The next, I took a short walking tour of all the sights you can see in two hours then headed back to my hostel where I decided to call it good and swapped stories with other travelers. I decided I’d have to go back to Greece again one day being as I didn’t really do anything while I was there. These things, they happen.

Rome momentarily,

 -N