The Good Life in Gay Paree

Mi amor, a baguette and cheese, and some red wine at the Eiffel Tower. Life doesn’t get much better!

Trains, Planes, Buses and Outrageous Glamour

Don’t let the backpacks fool you. We are really striving for the utmost glamor in our second month of traveling. To get to Hvar from Ljubljana, we grabbed a very early train to Zagreb, took a tram to the main bus station, took a bus to the airport, flew an hour to Split on a Croatia Airlines propeller plane, then hopped on a ferry for the 45-minute ride to Hvar. As I write this, we’re on a 5-hour bus ride to Dubrovnik, and the AC, when the driver turns it on, periodically drips on me. I initially tried to fix it by stuffing the leaking area with a napkin, but that eventually fell down as a soaking glob of pulp. Then I put my McGyver thinking cap on and used a plastic knife to wedge the stained window curtain into a ceiling panel, thus absorbing the drops before they reach my scalp. GLAMOUR.

Hvar is known more for its nightlife than for its beaches, which are really rocky. Our first time out to the beach, I happily roasted away, reading on a pile of pebbles and an ant colony after watching Carter tip toe around jagged rocks and a mess of sea urchins. We were able to find a nicer spot our next time out.

We ate/binged really well in Hvar. Thankfully we’re doing a lot of walking…to gelato stands. We basically subsided on a steady diet of grilled seafood and gelato (pistachio, cookies, strawberry, hazelnut, strachiasomething – we’ll finish off the rest of the flavors in Dubrovnik).

No visit to Hvar would be complete without a night at the famous Euro-fave club, Carpe Diem. We met a couple of Swedish sisters, and bar hopped with them before getting our dance and mojitos on at Carpe Diem.

Here are a few pics I took as our plane approached Split. I think it’s interesting how the iPhone captured the propeller. It looks like a series of photos instead of a blur.

Update: We’re about 100 km from Dubrovnik, and I’m starting to feel like Cate Blanchet’s character in Babel. Well, before she gets shot. But hey, you never know, we’re about to pass through Bosnia. At the last stop, I paid 3 kuna to pee in a hole. Not a bidet. A hole. But we have beer now! And some pretty great views of the Dalmatian coast.

There are some interesting moaning noises coming from the back. Sounds like someone is rehearsing for Leo DeCaprio’s role in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. A few more gelatos and I could probably play the mother!

Not in Kansas Anymore

Last night we went out in Ljubljana in an area called Metelkova. It used to be Yugoslavian military barracks, but now the artists have taken it over. There are 7 grungy club/bars (which the city periodically tries to shut down) scattered around a couple courtyards sprayed with graffiti and with some really eccentric sculpture. We grabbed some warm beers and sat in one of the courtyards. I’ve never been anywhere like it, and this is probably the least touristy thing we have experienced so far (with the exception of hanging out with Burak and Emrah in Istanbul). Very cool.

Lake Bled

Here are a few pictures of Lake Bled, Castle Bled and the church on the island in Lake Bled.

The stairs in the one photo lead up to a church that sits on the island. When there is a wedding at the church, the groom must carry the bride up the stairs to prove he’s fit for marriage! Carter offered to carry me up, but since he had just rowed us to the island I let him off the hook.

We stayed in a private room in a hostel outside of Bled that was run by a really sweet family. For 6 euros Mama whipped us up a delicious Slovenian dinner.

Paragliding

The second and final of our adventure activities in Interlaken was paragliding, which I loved. At the start I could tell it was going to be a whole other ball of wax compared to canyoning. With canyoning, panic set in during the drive to the canyon, as three of our beefy and faux-hawked Swiss guides negotiated hairpin turns and sang along to Offspring.

For paragliding, I was a little nervous as we drove up the mountain to an elevation of about 4000 feet, but otherwise quite calm as we chatted with our mellow pilots (as we’re complete novices, it was a tandem flight) and signed a contract that relieved them of all resposibility in case we plummeted from the sky.

In the van on the way up, we each picked our pilot. Carter picked a pilot named Bert because he resembled Jimmy McNulty from The Wire. I placed my life in the hands of Fabrice, even though he was sitting in front and I could only see the back of his head. Of the other pilots I could see and rejected, one looked too green, and the other looked like a crazy guy I used to work with. After this very scientific selection process, we arrived at the take off field and got strapped into our gear.

I was the first in our group to fly! With the chute laid out in back of us, Fabrice strapped the back of my harness to the front of his gear (I’m totally setting someone up for a zinger here). Then we started jogging down an incline, and it really couldn’t have been more than 15 or so paces before we took flight.

Fabrice would find some thermals and we’d float, making lazing circles with an amazing view of the Alps and Interlaken. As we got closer to the landing field, Fabrice pulled out some tricks, and it felt really exhilerating, like being on a untethered rollercoaster. After about 15 minutes of flight, we touched down gently. I wish I could post some pics now, but I didn’t bring my precious iPhone up with me.

We’ve been on terra firma ever since, spending a day in Lake Bled and arriving today in Ljubljana, Slovenia. Next stop, Croatia.

Muddy Mayhem in St. Gallen

Holy shit. Carter and I are at the OpenAir music festival in St Gallen, Switzerland, and it’s complete muddy mayhem. Never seen anything like it.

When I first realized the mess we were about to enter, I took a moment to myself to accept that I was about to get really, really dirty. This can be hard to accept when you are living out of a backpack for 7 weeks and each clean item of clothing is precious. But once I accepted it, and 3 beers (and 1 brat) later, I’m feeling pretty good.

We just saw a Swiss/French rapper called Stress, and Nick Cave is on stage now. After that, NIN.

Where we’re sitting, we have a good view of the stage, and of a muddy and very slippery ramp directly in front of us where we can watch and laugh at the drunk people struggle and fall as they make their way up. As you can can see in the photos, I’m sitting next to a passed out guy who’s starting to foam at the mouth a bit.

There was a cool moment between sets when the song Billie Jean came on and there was a big roar from the crowd.

Street meat

I think eating from food carts is one of the best and cheapest ways to really get to the gut of a city’s cuisine.

On the west side of the Bosphorus, near the Galata Bridge, there are three docked wooden boats serving fish sandwiches. It sounds pretty mundane until I add in the fact that the boats are pitching back and forth with the river’s swells. Somehow these guys are able to keep their balance, not vomit, manage a grill full of fish, and crank out sandwiches that locals and tourists alike gobble up while sitting at little tables.

The sandwiches are served on a roll, with lettuce, herbs and sweet onions. The fish is definitely on the fishier side, which explains the bottles of lemon juice and sea salt on each table. And you’ve gotta watch out for those fish bones. I can’t say that my mouth is watering for another one, but for just 4 lira, it was a really cool experience.

Afterward Carter grabbed an ear of grilled corn from one of the many corn vendors around town. We each just took a couple bites of the charred and dry corn, and then spent a good few minutes picking it out of our teeth. Not so tasty, but for just 1 lira it was worth a try. And once we started into an ice cream cone from yet another vendor, the corn was all but forgotten.

Tea Time

Drinking turkish tea in Cihangir, the artsy neighborhood in Istanbul.

Merhaba from Istanbul

This is the view from our hotel, the Hotel Alaturka, which is very close to the blue and red mosque.

Turkey

This is a picture of the traditional Turkish breakfast we had at our charming and quirky (and most importantly, cheap) hotel in Gumbet, which is a mile or so from Bodrum. Also pictured is part of a mural hung over the bar at the hotel. Two honeymooners, perhaps?

We spent about a day and a half in Gumbet, eschewing cultural pursuits for a day relaxing on the beach, drinking beer, listening to the ubiquitous techno music, smoking hookah, and trying to pick up a few Turkish phrases (we’re still struggling with “thank you”).

There were loads of British tourists in Gumbet, but very few Americans. In fact, we were the first Americans the bartender/waiter at the hotel had met. Don’t worry, we’re doing our best to make a good impression, and yes, Carter is wearing his “Local Celebrity” tshirt everywhere.

As I write this we’re on a bus from the airport to Istanbul! It was quite an adventure getting to the airport in Bodrum this morning. We taxied to a bus depot, and wandered around fruitlessly looking for the official airport shuttle. When we realized the next shuttle was leaving too late to make our flight, we hopped on a local bus, which proceeded to randomly pick up and drop off old men along the way. We were then dropped off at the side of the road, and had to walk across a four line highway to a taxi stand seemingly situated in the middle of nowhere. After a cab ride of about a mile, we reached our destination, just in time to board out Turkish Airways flight to Istanbul. We can’t wait to explore this amazing city!