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And these are some of my favourite things…

Someone asked me the other day about some of the highlights – here’s some of them, excluding my time in Crete:

  • Best journey – sitting on the back of a scooter, wearing full backpack, getting a lift from Olympos up to the main road. About 11km of narrow, winding roads, on a small scooter. Certainly a lot more fun than the minibus, although perhaps not quite so safe…
  • Best country – has to be Turkey. Nice people, nice place, so much to see and do. I could (and will) go back and spend a lot more time there. Just a nice, relaxing, low stress place to travel. A little more expensive than I expected, but I imagine that will only get worse if/when they ever join the EU, which I hope they do. Jordan would be the second-best country I think – again, it’s the people that make it. After all the hassle of Egypt, it was so nice to be in Jordan.
  • Best town – Goreme, in Cappadocia, Turkey. If I didn’t force myself to leave when I did, I could still be there. Just a crazy landscape, with a lovely relaxing town to base yourself in. Heaps of good, well-priced places to stay in too. Go to the Kose, and get Spotty the dog to take you for a walk through the valleys.
  • Best experience – getting a haircut, shave and massage in Turkey. My head has never been so well looked after. I’ve never had a haircut involving a lighter before. I don’t know how many different steps were involved in the complete procedure, but it’s not that expensive, and such a cool thing to do. Cut-throat razors certainly make for a smooth shave.
  • Scenery – would have to be in the Sahara, just feeling lost amongst the vastness of it. You start to understand why the Arabs think of it as a sea. Just a feeling of vastness, and terrible power and beauty. Second place would be Cappadocia, for all the weird land formations.
  • Graeco-Roman sites – Leptis Magna in Libya is pretty hard to beat. A huge city, with only part of it uncovered. The ampitheatre is particularly well-preserved.
  • Best city – on this trip, but outside the Middle East would be San Francisco. In the Middle East, Istanbul was awesome. Amazing location, with huge oil tankers cruising right through the middle of the city.
  • Best bar (outside Crete) – Spitfire Bar, in Alexandria. Like a Bangkok bar, but without the girls. Quoting from their business card in front of me ‘If yoy come to Alexandria, dont miss to drop into the “Spitfire Bar” where you will find good drinks And any kind of Music.’ Quite. I liked their system for keeping track of how much you’ve had – rather than throw out the empties, they create a pile just for you, then count them up when you go. So much easier than paying per beer.
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Some of my favourite people

I’ve been thinking a bit about some of the more interesting people I met while on the road. Unfortunately I don’t have names recorded for all of them. In no particular order, here’s a few quick portraits:

  • At a bar in San Francisco, I was sitting next to Mark (and his wife who looked like an aged rock groupie – think Goldie Hawn). Mark pulled out three harmonicas and laid them on the bar. I remarked that not everyone carries three harmonicas. “Don’t worry Lindsay, I’ve got more at home.” Not quite the response I was expecting
  • I arrived at Homs in Syria, looking to change buses to get to Crac des Chevaliers. LP said there were two bus stations, right next to each other. Actually LP, there’s another bus station on the other side of town as well. I didn’t know where to go, or anything, plus I was tired and sick at the time. Then I met Hasan, who showed me which bus to get on, refused to let me pay for my own ticket, and took me to the other bus station to get the right bus, and invited me home for tea. This, from a guy who is educated, working a good job, but earns less in a month than I can in a day in London. There is indeed truth to the stories of Syrian hospitality.
  • I’d never seen a 60-year old break-dancing before. But, in Crete, I met a man who did just that. In between sessions on the dance floor (including doing a flip at one point), he would come up to the bar, and order the bar staff and me rounds of drinks. He could certainly put them away too. We didn’t share much in the way of common languages, but we were good friends by the end of the night.
  • Walking past a carpet hospital in Goreme, I was called in for a chat. The owner didn’t want to sell me carpets though, he just liked to chat to travellers and practise his English. Then his uncle turned up with a bottle of Turkish wine. They then opened it in a way I have never seen before. After hunting around for a pair of pliers, they then used the handle of the pliers to whack the cork down into the bottle, splashing wine across the room, and us. Glasses were then passed around. It was a quick way of opening the bottle, if perhaps not the cleanest.
  • In Antakya, I started chatting to a young guy. We were sitting in a park, talking about Turkey, travel, etc, when he started telling me how all his friends were gay. He was quite insistent that he was not gay, but then he went on to describe, in detail, what happened when his gay friend was staying with him for a few days. Now I couldn’t care less what you do with your friends, but I don’t think I needed that sort of detail from someone I had just met. All very strange. It wasn’t even like we were out drinking at a bar late at night – it was just sitting in the park in the middle of the afternoon. However, I now have a contact if I want to import quality leather shoes into New Zealand. Apparently I could make $20,000 in a month, or something like that.
  • Possibly the best guy I met was the connoisseur of fake watches I met in Alexandria. While drinking at Spitfire Bar (well worth a visit) I met Rob, who was in for a few days rotation off the oil rig he works on. His dealer turned up with a bag full of fake watches, and we then spent over an hour going through all the different watches, narrowing it down to a few, then testing the luminous dials, the waterproofness, etc. I learnt several things about fake watches – one is to make sure that all the date/time dials can be set correctly – sometimes you can only have a Tuesday if it’s the 10th of the month. Watch the waterproofness, usually they aren’t. If looking for fake Rolexes, try and get the ones sourced from Italy, not China. Philippines ones are best if you can get those, apparently. It’s not just a matter of going for the cheapest you can find, you know.
  • While sitting outside the train station in Alexandria, a group of young girls came up to me to talk. They were quite impressed with my eyes – I don’t think they see a lot of blue eyes. After chatting with them for a while, they told me, quite seriously, that I should not sit outside the train station, there were too many crazy people there. Funny thing was, that they were the only ones I met outside the train station. Hmmmm.
  • In Libya, we had some locals driving us around the desert. I learnt two things: Even Arabs can have chavs – the desert is not too hot for wearing a tracksuit, and two: you can have an extremely explicit conversation with someone without needing any common language whatsoever. Sign language goes a long way, you know.
  • Captain Basta, in Aswan. He runs a felucca on the Nile. We hired his services for the afternoon, and had a pretty good time. After talking about how he is a Muslim, he then asked if we wanted beers (we did, and we had to get one for him too), and if we wanted any of the joint he had (no thanks, but you go ahead). For the whole afternoon we were mucking around on the boat, we didn’t cover much distance, but we had a good time. He also taught us some Egyptian songs, but I can’t say we were very good at singing them.
  • Pia and Linda at DNA – watch out for Norwegians behind the bar, they get you very drunk. Don’t even think about trying to outdrink them. You have been warned.
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Is it really over?

Or is this just a temporary hiatus, before hitting the road again?

I’m finally back in London, and now (shock, horror) thinking about finding a job. Hopefully I’ll be able to pick something up pretty quickly. The sooner I start a contract, the sooner I’ll be able to hit the road again. I probably could have stayed there longer, but people kept telling me I couldn’t just sit on a beach all day, and spend all night in bars. Not that I particularly wanted to believe them.

I had an absolute blast in Crete – choosing to hang out there for a while, and do nothing, was one of the best decisions I ever made. After spending so long on the road, constantly thinking about where you’re going, how you’re going to get there, dealing with language issues, trying to understand piles of stones that were once a city…it was nice to do nothing. My biggest challenges were choosing which waterfront restaurant to eat at, and deciding which book to take down to the beach.

If you ever get the chance to head to Crete, and I highly recommend you do, visit Chania, go to DNA and say hi to the crew – Helen, Steve, Pia, Linda, Daga, Marina. It can get a bit crazy there, but is a huge amount of fun. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a 60 year old man break dancing before. The girls behind the bar will make sure you’re enjoying yourself – just watch out when they start pouring the shots, they can drink a lot more than you. I might put up some of the photos on my website later, but this is a family show, so they might not all be appropriate…

One of the other things that was interesting there was to chat to some of the Americans serving at the Souda Bay US Navy Base. Some really interesting people, with a different take on America to the stereotype. I learnt a lot about America, and American people from them.

It is a pleasant change to be back in a country where I can drink water from the tap, municipal services all work, most drivers aren’t trying to kill me, and there are Western-style toilets, that I can flush paper down. I might even go and eat food from a cafe later, and not be too worried about what illnesses I might pick up. No doubt I’ll get bored of it all soon enough though.

I’ve already started thinking about my next trips – I want to buy a touring bike and ride around Ireland, then Vietnam, Cambodia and Laos. I also want to go to Austria again this northern winter, and then maybe Canada next year – how to fit it all in?

I’ll write up more of a summary of my trip in the next few days. Maybe just a listing of some of the highlights. I met all sorts of people while travelling, and I think some of those deserve a mention too. I’ll get onto it this week…

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On drinking beer from a boot, and other notes from a small island

You know, they teach you many things in school, most of them a complete waste of time. One of the things they do not teach you is how to drink beer out of a boot. Luckily I am here to fill in that gap in your education. I have gone out of my way to study the art of bootdrinking, and here I present my findings.

One: Order the largest bootsize they have. I ordered one of approximately 2.5L – I don’t know, maybe a size 12? Do not waste your time with the smaller boots, other men will laugh at you.

Two: If there is an inch of froth at the top, it is best to let it settle for a while before trying to drink from it. I made the mistake of attempting a drink, and was gagging on froth for several minutes, with no apparent liquid.

Three: Particularly in the first stage, drink with both hands. Towards the end, you may change to one hand, holding the vessel near the ankle. If you try looking cool holding it with one hand at the start, you run the risk of looking like a right nobby after you have poured 2L of beer onto your lap.

Four: The middle stages are difficult. This is the point where you start to wonder if you will ever get to the bottom. The key point here is that once you get down a bit, you start having troubles with air flowing in and out of the toe of the boot as you tilt the vessel. I have found that holding the boot with the toe pointing down avoids this problem, allowing air to flow without restriction while tilting the boot.

Five: The end – avoid the temptation to bang the empty boot on top of your head and shout some phrase from your engineering student days. It doesn’t go down well with the more sedate customers sitting next to you. After all, you are in a restaurant, not a beerhall.

No need to thank me for this advice now, but you can think of me next time you are drinking beer from a boot.

I flew from Istanbul to Athens, where I caught the fast ferry to Hania, in Crete. Somehow, and I don’t know how, I ended up with a business class ticket. I think the stewards were as shocked as I was when looking at my ticket. I thought it was a little more than it should have been. Turns out though, that business class is not that great. They don’t give you any free food or drink. When I offered a beer to the Greek next to me, he politely declined. I think I would have been better off in deck class. Serves me right for going on the high speed ferry.

I’m in Hania, and I think I will stay here for most of the next week, with the exception of the odd day trip here and there. It’s a nice little town, and I’ve got a nice room right on the waterfront, on top of a row of restaurants. A bit touristy, but it’s not quite high season yet. After doing a lot of travelling over the last few months, it’s time for a holiday I think. Perhaps a week here of doing nothing sounds about right.

I may get bored after a few days though, and hit the road, to somewhere else on Crete. We’ll see what happens.

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Cruising the Mediterranean – a tough life

I’m still in Turkey, where I’ve just finished a 4 day blue cruise with Olympos Yachting. We went from Olympos to Fethiye on a yacht over 100ft long. It was the largest of their boats, capable of sleeping 36. We only had 20 plus crew on board though, so there was plenty of space. Nice yacht too, plenty of space to just lounge about, either in the sun or the shade.

Plenty of options to swim each day in the Mediterranean which, although lacking sandy beaches, has quite remarkable water. It is very clear, and you can see the bottom and well over 20ft. It is quite a striking blue-green though, almost like a picture-postcard of the sea. Normally these cruises are a bit of a big party on the water, but due to the direction I’m going, and the time of year, it didn’t quite work out like that. The rest of the passengers were all Australian, travelling on an organised tour – with an average age of about 60. Not what I expected, and the young Aussie on the crew was a bit suprised too. Oh well, still fun, even if we were sipping Milo at 9:30 before turning in for another early night.

I’m staying in Selcuk tonight, before going to Cannakale tomorrow. From there I will visit Gallipoli, before pushing on to Istanbul. Current thinking is that I will go from there to Athens, then to Crete, along with another Greek Island, before finally heading back to London to pick up some work.

Got to go now, off to investigate the bars and restaurants of Kusadasi, a tourist trap town near Selcuk. Pretty touristy, but there could be a bit more nightlife happening than Selcuk. Last night was quiet there – I was sitting in a bar, watching Pero Cameron, Paul Henare and Tab Baldwin winning a playoff match in the Turkish Basketball League. Odd.

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God bless Ataturk!

It’s only about 70km from Aleppo to Antakya, but it feels like a completely different country – no wait, that’s because it is a different country! After walking around Aleppo surrounded by women who were completely covered in black – even their eyes – it makes a very pleasant change to be in a country where women are dressed closer to Western norms. Beer is widely available, the kebabs are good, and I’ve even been able to use some German! Turkey is good so far.

Due to some mistaken assumptions and poor planning on my part, I’ve ended up with a day to kill in Antakya. I want to push on to Capadocia, and I assumed that I would be able to get a bus this morning. Instead, the bus doesn’t leave until 15:30 today, and gets to Nevsehir at 23:00. This is going to cause just a few complications since I want to get to Goreme tonight, and I don’t have a place to stay. Oh well, I’m sure it will work out. Maybe I should have bought my sleeping bag with me though…

From Damascus I headed on to Palmyra, to view the ruins there. Quite a lot of old stones, and remarkably isolated. Palmyra really is a long way from anywhere, out in the desert. It was nice to later cross back over via Homs to Crac des Chevaliers, and see farmland again, rather than the relentless desertscape.

Syrian people did prove their hospitality going through Homs. The bus came into the other end of town to the other bus I needed to get to go to Crac des Chevaliers. Thanks for the great advice once again Lonely Planet. Homs has 3 bus stations, not the 2 described in the current Syria/Lebanon guide. Anyway, after I fought off the taxi drivers, a local guy showed me which bus to get on, paid for my ticket, went part of the way there, and invited me to his house for tea. This from an educated chemical engineer who only earns about $400USD per month.

Crac des Chevaliers was interesting, and remarkably complete. It didn’t take much to see what the castle would have been like when still in active use. Cool location too, sitting high above the surroundıng countryside.

Hama made a pleasant change for a place to stop that night. A nice smaller town, where the taxi drivers charged very reasonable fares, with little haggling required. Good food available too. The water wheels are from a different era. Good to see they have maintained them, even if they don’t raise water to aqueducts any more – they just spin around, groaning as they do so.

Aleppo did nothing for me, even if I did stay at the Baron Hotel, where the likes to Agatha Christie and TE Lawrence have stayed. The famed souq is maybe OK if you’re into that thing, but to me it was just more of the same shops selling the same crap.

A fun drive into Turkey. Clearly our driver was in a hurry. On more than one occasion we drove up on the footpath or off the road to get around backed up trucks. Once when stuck behind some trucks going down a road that had a raised median strip, the driver was unfazed. At an intersection we crossed to the other side and roared down that for a few kilometres. Oncoming vehicles were not so impressed though. Still, the trip, including customs, took about 2.5 hours. C.f. with the LP’s 4 hour estimate.

Speaking of customs, the phrase “couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery” sprung to mind as I watched them at work. On both sides of the border, trucks were backed up for miles. Both sides of the road through no-man’s land were chock full of trucks, all stopped. Hardly any movement was going on. Most drivers were either asleep, or sitting on chairs on the side of the road. Clearly, for these men crossing the border was an all-day affair. Commerce is a country’s life-blood, and it would seem to me far better to expedite the flow of goods across the border. Obviously you want to maintain certain security standards, but they could have moved those trucks much, much quicker if they wanted to.

Going into Turkey was also a bit weird. A pile of passports was handed through the window, then eventually handed back, stamped. No-one actually matched up our passports with our faces. Again, it was chaos. Instead of a line moving past a window, everyone just crammed up to the small window, where every few minutes someone would hand back a pile of passports, and take another pile. Somehow my passport got back to me though.

Obviously transporting foodstuffs between Syria and Turkey is the thing to do, as our driver and fixer had numerous bags of stuff, that they tried to associate with various passengers as we were being checked. The guards took great interest in the Turkish and Syrian bags, but barely even glanced at mine. I guess tourists aren’t moving a lot of stuff through the border.

But anyway, I’m here in Turkey, and happy about it. I’ll probably be here at least two weeks, maybe a little longer. It looks now like I’ll have time to visit Greece, and maybe one or two Greek Islands before heading back to the UK.