Our Third Voyage Around The World

At some point last year Ileana asked why don’t we go to Samarkand. Very good question, why not? Let’s go. We looked it up, saw that we might need a few days, but if we go there we should also go to Khiva and Bukhara. It might take 10 days, best time to visit should be in the spring or fall. Slowly over several months that idea turned into a trip of three and a half months (104 days) around the world in which we visited 14 countries. Here is a brief summary of what we did. 

First some numbers:

• UNESCO World Heritage Sites (WHS) - 36 (in the text below the number in parentheses identifies the running count).
• Tentative World Heritage Sites (TWHS) - at least 15
• Countries - 14: eight new for both of us, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Pakistan, Oman, Bhutan, the Netherlands was new for me, revisiting England, Turkey, UAE and Thailand, plus of course, Romania.
• Flights - 23, for 29300 miles (46900 km), and at least 75 hours.
• Road trips - give or take 9200 miles (14700 km), some of it on highways and some of it on really picturesque “roads”. 
• 20921 pictures to go through to select a few for you...

Our goal to visit UNESCO World Heritage sites played a major role in the planning of this trip. Ileana had seen a couple more than me and to make it easier to keep track, I asked her to take me to two of them: London’s Kew Garden (245) and Amsterdam’s 17th century Canal Ring Area (248). 

Kew Garden, up in the temperate house

Four more, a Forest and Friends

October 27, 2015

Google challenges us: we have managed to transport ourselves by subway and buses, but can we take a bus without a number and no recognizable signs? Proud to say: Yes, we can, and even have seats.

Tokyo

Today we start our morning early, but we stay in. I take advantage of Ioan’s school and wash more laundry, and do small things.

When we finally emerge from our apartment, we take the subway to Ueno Park. Next to a bus station there is a big map of the park. Though we have an ipad and internet and we could orient ourselves from that, we choose to look at that map. And while we are looking at it, I notice two men, quietly washing its frame, small movements, no drips. If we wouldn’t have stopped to look at the map, I wouldn’t have known that they were there, working. But as we are here, I feel like I am not letting them work. It amazes me, because in my mind I compare it with a similar one in Romania or in USA (not that I have seen or heard of washing the frame of a street map). In Romania, IF someone would do this job, it would be  visible from a distance, an obvious fuss, “Look at me, I’m working”. In USA no one would bother, that’s why we have rain, but, still, if they would have to do it, they would use a power washer. 

First stop: National Museum of Western Art. We know that the building is on the waiting list of World Heritage Sites. It was build by Le Corbusier in 1951 to house the Matsukata collections.

Through the Ainu Land (part 2)

While at home we were discussing what to visit in Hokkaido. Mihai wanted Shiretoko, I wasn’t too keen, because I understood it was just wilderness, something that you have to really like to stay for a few days at least to experience it. There were several things to do beside hiking Mount Rausu and that included visiting the Five Lakes. We could have squeezed in yesterday a hike to those lakes, but we were tired and considered we would have the time today. Late in the night Mihai checked the weather report and found that today is the only beautiful day. We have to choose: do we walk around on a planked pathway in and around five flat lakes or do we climb Kurodake (peak Kuro)? And the answer is….

In the right lower corner you can see a red and white striped pole and a little bit above a down-pointing arrow. The first one marks the height of the snow and the other one the driving lane. During the night time its leds turn on to mark its presence.

Our Country

Welcome to my country! Bun venit! (boon veh-NEAT)

What happened? Did I blink and miss it? When did six weeks pass? Though we lived every day, time flew, moving from house to house, from tables laden with homemade traditional food to another one, from conversation to discussion and so forth.

Every day was a celebration!

The Best Museum in the World

We left Luxor on a 10 hour train ride. The train came late and was getting later and later, it seems that it stopped more than it moved. We had first class. Periodically the conductor came to clean up the car of the scores of guys that didn't have tickets. It was an open layout, we observed the people. Foreign tourists were not allowed to travel on day trains in Egypt. It was the rule for a long time, and we have no idea if it is still on the books, we went to the train station, got the first class tickets and pretended that we know what we are doing. We did it so we could see the country, save some money and also because we were not in the mood for another night on the road. We were the only foreigners. Why wouldn't they let foreigners on day trains? Hard to tell, I doubt that there is an official explanation. The train had third, second and first class cars, the one we were on had some uncracked windows. Most others were broken, a mistery that would be solved in an instant, just a couple of hours into our trip. A very loud noise came from Ileana's side. She ducked, a rock had just hit and broken her

The Turning Point

The restaurant of the cruise is empty, besides Maria and myself—just the waiters changing the linens on the tables. Judging from their voices and gestures, they’re not too happy about a new batch of tourists, each with their whims and their steam blowing. I didn’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed—on the contrary, I was happy to escape the droning and the pervading fumes of the neighboring boat’s engine—just that I don’t feel inclined to find excuses: for the miserable western food (the juice, the milk are watered down, the desserts seem emptied from a can, and everything else is weird tasting—it’s not easy to follow a recipe if you don’t know what the result is supposed to look and taste!), for the forced jokes of the waiters trying to make us smile and have a “good time”, for the sky-high prices of everything not included in the service (a British woman tried in vain to convince the manager that 15 euros for a glass of juice is not a normal price!), for everything. I’m tired and the day has just started.

Market delivery

My Egyptian Brother

Egypt is a strange country. There might have been an adjustment period after we spent almost three months in the "civilized" first world, but I don't think we noticed that. We were returning to something familiar, like Madagascar, Indonesia, India or Nepal. Yet it is different and somewhat weird. I am trying to grasp it and I cannot. The weirdest part is the interaction with people. And even more weird is that I found a little brother in Aswan that I didn't know I had and we all came to accept him after a while.

Aswan

“Wait there on the chairs!” says the security man from the airport. We sit for almost an hour, other tourists sharing the same fate. It is not because he has something else to do, he just talks with his colleagues, but I think this is a new policy (at least for me), they control things better in groups. We fly to Cairo to change the airplane (actually, it is the same one, with the same stewardesses, and almost the same passengers) so we could go to Aswan.

Again I have to face my fears, my own prejudices. This is a time of unrest, of social change, of political games. It is a Muslim country with 5-10% of Coptic Christians. Don’t we invite trouble just by being here? The number of tourists coming in is down, aren’t we a source to be ripped off? Are they really going to take us to the hotel or somewhere else? In whom to trust?

Outside the airport there are several taxi drivers, waiting for a client. Between them is Mr. Samir, who has in the middle of his forehead a crest, the consequence of many prayers (the Muslims pray by touching their forehead to the ground). That little voice in my head says “Him, you can trust him! No, no, no, no, I take it back. What if he is a fanatic?”

 But I don’t listen it anymore, Mr. Samir is talking politely with Mihai and he is inviting us in his seven seat car, a Peugeot from 1974. It is a long drive and from time to time he tells us that, somewhere in the darkness, we’re passing the High Dam, or the Philae Temple. We arrive at our hotel,

Sinai

Sabaah el her! (sub-ah-L-hair)

"You speak Arabic? Are you Egyptian?" No, I just like to use my limited knowledge and greet people in their language. Ioan and I, both have a darker skin, Mihai is sporting a beard, most of our skin is covered, our men walk in front, we, the feminine side, follow them, yes, we could be Egyptian. We’re not Muslims, but we could be Coptic Christians, or some other religion that doesn’t require  a woman to cover her head. “Tourist” cries from our behavior, but maybe we’re long time emigrated Egyptians, visiting our country. Sometimes I wonder, do we really have this plasticity to fit different countries or is just a way of the locals to brush our ego?

Good morning from the Sinai Peninsula! We’re here to rest, to dive into oblivion, to do nothing, to forget there is a world outside!

Thanksgiving

Of all the American feast days, Thanksgiving is closest to my heart. The first immigrants gathered with the Indians and gave thanks to God for helping them survive. Many times I thought it shouldn’t be just once a year, but then  I changed my mind; it is good to have an official day, in which one can think about all his or her gifts, received daily or in time. The words to come were written as I thought about them while we were traveling.

I give thanks to God; He helped us every moment.

I thank Mihai. He is the one who transformed an idea into reality. Step by step, innumerable hours, during the day and especially at night, he searched on the internet for the cheapest and most comfortable ways of transport. He read what others wrote and learned from their experiences. He found the ideal weather (you don’t want to be in India during monsoon time, when it rains for three months in a row) and made a schedule allowing us to travel with minimum clothes. He is the one who searched and found hotels and apartments, not only good, but cheap and close to the places we wanted to visit. He is the one who pushed us out of the house, when we wanted to sit and complain, saying there are still places to be visited, and in this way he enriched us.

Baobabs Avenue, Madagascar

Kidnapped in Egypt

I woke up at 5 am on Monday morning with the sudden realization that we've been highjacked. No, I wasn't dreaming, my mind continued to work during the night and put together many puzzle pieces. The only question was the correct term. I made my instant coffee and I got out on the balcony. The sun was rising behind the mountains of Saudi Arabia, across the gulf. It was quiet, nothing was moving, another glorious morning in Sinai. I checked the dictionary, we haven't been highjacked, we were kidnapped. I started to laugh. There were few questions left, I had to make a plan and organize our escape. The Internet wasn't working, so with no additional information I had to make several alternative plans and figure out a strategy. Kidnapped without even knowing. An uncomfortable feeling was settling in, but there was still something funny about the whole story:

With the Arab spring revolutions, security in Egypt has been in question. From outside, there are concerns about safety, but many travelers have reported a nice experience, "it is safe without the crowds," touts have sold their camels because of lack of tourists.

This is the Sinai peninsula from the air

Agony and Ecstasy

We board the flight to Milano. People are talking, the stewardesses are nowhere to be seen, while a voice says in Italian “to click the seat belt as it is shown”. It makes me laugh out loud, causing some heads to turn around like, “What’s so funny?” By the time they repeat the message in English (with a heavy Italian accent), the stewardesses are there to do their duty. After we take off, I think we have five minutes at the cruising height and then we start the descent, with a searing pain in my ears and hysterical cries from small children (why do they have to go down so quickly, not giving us time to equalize?)

And then, buon giorno Ee-tahl-eeah! Good day, Italy!

We have three weeks in Italy, and the plan is to visit Milano (only because the airplane takes us there), then we go to Turin, to see our pen pals Federica and Maria Rosa. From there to Florence for four nights, Venice one night, Napoli and surrounding area for six nights, finishing in Rome with five nights.

This is a touring marathon, a masochistic demonstration of how much one can absorb without getting sick of it.

The Boxer

Greece in Four Weeks

I never understood how Eol was such an important god, actually I didn't understand why he was a god at all. That is until now, when we left the island of Mykonos on a BlueStar Ferry. It is the biggest boat we've ever been on, but the wind is so strong that everything is trembling. Anna, the owner of our hotel, repeatedly told us over the last week that we are lucky, they didn't have one good day all summer. We had two or three days without wind, it was uncomfortably hot, but, when the wind blows, it is almost cold and it is certainly unpleasant.

Scrambled Foxtrot (2)

Cristina and I have been BFFs since 5th grade. No matter how much time passes from the last meeting, we talk and work together like we saw each other just yesterday. She takes the children fishing (Mihai, Ileana, and I are not fans) and then she shows them how to clean them.

Ready to eat grilled fish, hand caught crabs, tomato salad with feta cheese and many other goodies!

Greek Islands

Here's a secret. I'm not sure how to spell this island's name.

The view from our grandparents' hotel's balcony.

On the Facebook update it says Mikonos. In Remington Steele episodes it says Mykonos.

Europe Since Then

So the last post I put up was "Europe So Far" and now we're just continuing since then.

We left off with Kutna Hora. After going around town and seeing the sights, Daddy and I caught a bus back home to Prague, and the next day we took another one for Berlin.

The first night we stayed at a very nice hotel, and Mom and Daddy went to dinner with some friends, who, starting with the next day, would lend us their apartment as they went off on vacation. The parents came home at an absurdly late hour and we were torn between worry and that "WOOHOO THE PARENTS ARE OUT AND I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT YAAAAAY" feeling that most people get when the parents shut the door. And, like most people, we didn't really use our fleeting freedom and just hung out doing whatever. And then, you know, scolded our parents when they came home at 11.

Family Meetings in Barcelona

Barcelona is the location where we will be meeting with Mom's half of the family. Our cousins, aunt and uncle, and grandmother have come to Barcelona for a conference, but they're also going to meet with us.

We arrive in Barcelona first. Dad somehow navigates to the apartment, drops us off, and heads to the airport to drop the car off (having trouble finding the way to the airport without any map he sees all of Barcelona). We meet Adina, a Romanian who's managing the apartment, and find out with crestfallen faces that instead of our apartment and our family's apartment being in the same building, we're 7 minutes away from each other on foot.

The only reason Dad paid for such an apartment was because he thought we'd be in the same room. Otherwise, we would have had a much cheaper place!

Berlin, Deutschland

Gutten tag! 

Here we are in Goethe’s land. The first time we were here it was a few months after the fall of the Wall and the differences between East and West were evident. The situation was tense because they had just adopted the Western mark as the national currency, transforming overnight normal Easterners into poor people. The graffiti was everywhere.

The first night we roamed the streets with our friends. Mihaela and Marcello (from Napoli) are so kind and let us stay in their apartment, while they go to visit her family in Romania. We walk aimlessly, talking and catching up with our busy lives, finding more about them and Alina (her sister) and Matheu (her sister’s boyfriend). We switch from Romanian to English, then when they talk with each other it’s either in Italian or French. We ask for directions in German. I ask Mihaela how many languages does she speak: seven, all of the above plus Spanish and Portuguese. And she is not alone. Berlin is the hubbub for all the artists, a place where they can find a venue for their imagination and is not expensive to live.

Enjoying the movie "10 Months In"

A Stay in Berlin

We liked Berlin. We came here for several reasons, specifically invited by Mihaela, a long time friend. Besides, it's been 22 years since we were here last time, shortly after the fall of the wall and the day after the monetary unification. It's been too long since then and I couldn't wait to see the new city of Berlin, frequently described as the most vibrant European city. A past great capital, the center of European power games and also the second biggest Turkish town in Europe. Berlin is a city in constant change, the locals don't recognize it year after year, and they joke that they don't need to go to any other city, they have something new all the time.

Guess what? I am in Berlin!

With our friends, before they left. Too soon.