Dubrovnik

I am still in Dubrovnik, having a fantastic time. We are staying in a great apartment, with excellent proximity to multiple beaches, and fancy hotel pools, which we have been making a habit of sneaking into. Yesterday, our fantastic hostel owner, who loves us, and a pair of Australians who we have been spending out time with, decided to take us out in his car and give us the "Local tour" of the region. He took us up to the high hills that surround Dubrovnik, which were used by the Serbians to attack Dubrovnik in the Yugoslavian war in 1991. I saw the most amazing views I have ever seen in my life, as we overlooked the entire city, and could see the coastline for miles in all directions. We got an excellent birds eye view of a concert being put on in the Old Town, to which the mayor arrived in a helicopter, which we could see approaching and landing from our vantage point. Around this area there were many wild donkeys and goats, which are condidered by the locals to be heros from the Yugoslav war. We drove all around this region looking at the battlefields and remains of many small villages and buildings that were never repaired. I will try my hardest to post some photos soon.

Today is our last day in Croatia, and I am sad to leave, however early tomorrow we are heading to Mostar, Bosnia, which should really be interesting. It is a small town in Southern Bosnia, and is allegedly the hottest town in the world.

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Beware

After loading up on a riduclous sum of watermelon tic tacs, and nutella anythings, Cam and I once again headed for the night ferry port, eager to hit the high seas back to sunny Croatia. Our time in Italy was a delight, and we spent many hours eating delightful Italian food, and perhaps even more on the beach, in an attempt to even our my ridiculous waist line tan which I aquired in Split last week. It actually looks like I am wearing a dark brown belt around my waist, which as of late looks as if it is made our of aligator skin.

Our night ferry was delayed two hours, and frankly, I dont wish to speak of it, because the horrid memories are oh too fresh to recount. All I will mention, is that although we found some delightful indoor seating to sleep in, we were surrounded by a 50plus person tour group, who insisted on reenacting some kind of riot scene from a movie, which included a riot scene. (Insert movie title here.) This continued for a number of hours, in which I had a minute rage session, and participated in repremanding a 75plus grandmother, would simply wouldnt shut up. Its been a while since I have "shhhed" a person, and never have I done it with such enraged volume before.

However, as we awaited the departure of this doomed ferry ride, we struck up a conversation with a nice Croatian couple would were next to us. We told them of all our travel plans, and they gasped when they heard we were heading to Bosnia next. "Why would you go to that place?!!" the man questioned, as if we had told him we were sailing to the moon. After explaining that we wanted to see the scenery and Sarajevo, he replied "Not nice, nothing to see.. and too many Muslims!" We forced out an akward chuckle in response (which by the way are my specialty). He immideitly followed that up with: "Your not Muslims are you?!"

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Going Overboard

My deepest apologies for the lack of time and attention that I have put into the blog these days, as I have been quite occupied with travel arrangements and sightseeing. In addition to this, internet access has been limited at best.

Our time in Split, Crotia could not have been better, we basically allowed our days to revolve around ice cream, wine, and beach time, and narrowing down the best "UV hour" was pretty much the most stressful encounter we faced. We were lucky to stay in a great private apartment, which a kitchen, living room and bedrooms, so we were quite spoiled. It was nice to be able to make our own meals and hang out in front of the TV for a bit when we needed to unwind. Upon reviewing the future weather forecast for coastal Crotia, we decided to take a ferry to Bari, Italy in order to dodge some rain and follow the sunshine. Being the frugal travellers that we are, we decided to purchase the cheapest tickets possible, those being "deck seats", and feeling guilty about the added costs of spontneously sailing across the Adriatic, I insisted we take the overnight ferry to save on accomidations. That of course was mistake number one, of many.

Our boat left at 11pm, and was to arrive in Italy at eight the next morning. Cam and I raced up onto the ferry deck, eagerly anticipating the outdoor camping adventure we had in store. After spending a ridiculous amount of time laying our our sleeping bags right at the front of the boat where no one else was, and organzing our boat snacks, we were ready for our peaceful night under the stars as we sailed away into the quiet night. As we fell asleep we gasped in disgust at the other deck mates who chose to sleep indoors, "they are so dumb I cant even stand it" I remember mentioning, "Who wouldnt choose to sleep outside under the stars?" Numerous ship staff walked by giving us strange looks. We discussed how jealous they likely were at our campfire setup. "Sucks to be working", we joked. Cut to three hours later, say at 2 am, when we were shaken awake by the high seas which ferosiously attacked our mother ship. Our sleeping bags, now inflated like kites, were erratically flapping in the air, occasionaly whipping against our defenseless bodies. Our faces burned from the continued splashes of sea water, which were turning our flesh into delectable salt licks. I looked over at Cam, who had curled into a fetal position so tight, that I couldnt tell where were head was. I watched as the gale force winds mercelessly pounded against her which relentless force. "Cam!, Wake up! Its me", I felt the need to identify myself, so she wouldnt confuse me with Jesus Christ coming to take her away to a better place. "Im dying" she replied. "We must go inside! Immidietly!" I insisted. Cam slowly revealed her face, still, with visible caution, as part of her still believed that the evil hurricane wind had morphed itself into an identical version of myself.

We gathered the remains of our belongings, which had not yet been swallowed into the sea, and scurried indoors, and found a small remaining space directly next to the ships primary elevator. The next morning, we headed to the breakfast cafeteria to discuss our most recent brush with death, only to discover that almost the entire population of "deck" ticket holders, had created a shanty town inside the restaurant, which apparently, was allowed. As we sipped our boiling hot tea peering out the windows with pure rage, we watched as the well rested squatters awoke from their delightful sleeps. "Just slept like a rock", I overheard. I wanted to explain that we almost became rocks at the bottom of the Adriatic Sea, to this delinquent. I kept my "Genius without a cause" attitude to myself, and continued to glare out the window.

After this dredful experience, we quickly learned that deck seats dont exclusivley insist on the outdoor deck. We wondered how much money the ship staff bet on how long we would last outside for.

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Special Announcement!

I would like to wish JM a very special Birthday in Paris, I wish my funds would allow for a quick flight over to France to wish you Happy Birthday!

Have a Fantastic Day!
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Be A Star

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As the blog surpasses its 900th visitor, make sure you are number 1,000!

Check out the counter bar on the right hand side, and be the ultimate blog star!

Good Luck To All,


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Quick Recovery

After a 2:45am wake up call this morning in Istanbul, I headed to the airport to catch my flight to Zagreb, Croatia. When I arrived, thankfully to blistering heat, I decided that I should really put some effort into making use of the public transit system. Always a mistake.. always. I immediately met a Croatian local, who guided me to the appropriate bus to take me downtown, which was a good start. Unfortunately my luck ran out.. quick. Upon reaching the hub of tram lines, I began deliriously lost on the transit system, and spent 2 hours zig zagging my way around the city. I probably asked a dozen locals where I was, via pushing my blackberry in their faces, and highlighting the name of the street I was looking for. Every different person pointed me in a different direction, via a different tram route. Things were not looking well for Croatia, and at one point I wanted to throw myself in front of the oncoming tram.. Then, like I would imagine a religious awakening to be, I caught a glimpse of the road I needed, and fought my way off the tram. Success!

The girl beside me is chewing her gum so furiously that I must abandon this post, but will update you all tomorrow of my days events. I have already been to the tourist center, and plan to put the three maps I stole into good use. There are many walking tours on the horizon. Tomorrow's goal is the learn how to say Hello in Croatian, but as many of you may know, (as I was warned by BatGirl, aka, Amer,) this language is impossible to follow. In fact, I am certain that it is gibberish. Seeing the word "Kjzowj" is completely normal. Try to sound that out, it makes Mandarin look like child's play. Wish me luck!

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Billion Dollar Bay-Day

Last night my tour of Turkey came to an end. Throughout the trip, the American traveler and I spent much more time together, simply because had we not joined forces, the seniors most definitely would have eaten our brains. As the days went on, we became very fond of one particular elderly couple, who eventually adopted us as their "vacation children", and we promptly became a temporary family for the rest of our journey. This incredibly wealthy couple, NYC socialites, who hit it big in the Property Development industry in the States, were pretty much the most fantastic vacation parents. We spent every day together, breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and exchanged sweet nothings as we toured the sites of Turkey. It was a normal occurrence for us to be sitting on the bus, and 'ma and 'pa would holler over to us: "Look Kids! Did you see that!" This scenario was pretty much impossible to beat. They invited us along to help them pick out lavish Turkish rugs, and emeralds and diamonds as "souvenirs" for their real children. Last night, the final night of our tour, they invited us to accompany them on a "farewell evening" an offer which we knew would be impossible to refuse. The glorious day began with a sea cruise of the Bosphorus Bay, and immediately after they whisked us up to our hotel roof top lounge for martini's. It had panoramic views of Istanbul, and the Bosphorous waterway. Our chatterboxing was momentarily muffled by the arrival of a guest via the heli-pad. Afterwards they insisted we head to the Four Seasons for a poolside dinner and "walk of the grounds." They told my vacation Sister and I that since their children refused to travel with them anymore, that they wanted to have a special evening with us. This couple was so fantastic, that at one point, they insisted to our server that the pianist must "quiet down" as he was making it difficult to enjoy the meal. The only downside of the evening, was when 'ma and 'pa told Cee, my vacation partner in crime, that they would look into finding her a publisher for her "allegedly fantastic" personal blog. I regretfully kept my mouth shut about how envious I was, yet lost my opportunity to sell my stories to the world.

We said our goodbyes and thus ended our final night in Istanbul, and I must say it was unforgettable. My original plans of holing myself up in the hotel with room service, Fanta, and the BBC were most definitely eclipsed by this luxurious night out on the town.

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Turkey Continued

I am continuing my travels through Turkey, hopping from one city to the next, and am very impressed with every city we visit. My friend just asked me where I was today and I drew a blank.. a complete blank, which is always a scary thought. I know that I am in the lobby of a hotel, someplace in south central Turkey wishing I could translate the screaming communications between several school children who have infilatrated the hotel. Two nights ago we were at my favourite destination so far, Kusadasi, which is a beach town on the Aegean Sea. We stayed in the most fantastic hotel ever, which was perched right on the beach, and I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks below from my sea view bedroom. The hotel had a beautiful infiniti pool overlooking the water, paired with a lake-style dock over the sea. Despite our 6pm arrival time I immidietly hit the docks, hoping that would be the true indication that my summer had arrived. At dinner, around the time when I mistook an elderly gentlemans small heap of bright coloured medication for "micro mini eggs," pestering him for the details as to where he "found those gems" in the buffet line (evidently "at the pharmacy" is where.) This is also when I scanned my dinner mates as to whom was going to join me for an after dinner swim. Every single person thought I was delirious for even suggesting such a crime. "Its barely even May for heavens sake!" One dastardly woman sneered. "You must be mad!" So around 9pm, after dinner hour was over, I headed for the pool, towel in hand. The Health Club attendant looked on in horror as I passed her by on my way out the door to the pool. "It's only open until 9:30!" she cried, in a final attempt to save me from my fate. In the corner of my eye I could see a crowd accumulating at windows all over the hotel. My fellow travel mates got up to look from the restaurant, which overlooked the pool to see if I was actually insane. I knew at this point I had to just jump in, despite how cold I knew the water surley would be. I dove, well, gracefully threw myself into the frigid water, trying to look as if I was doing so willingly. I could see Nelly and Jenny jumping up and down from their 8th floor bedroom, as flashes beamed from their cameras. I dunked my head under the water to mask my frozen cries for help. Several challenging laps later, when It looked as if the crowds had thinned, and the flashing had subsided, and made a made dash for my hotel room.

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No Shorts Allowed

Last Thursday, Science Girl and I thought we would tackle the streets of Istanbul, attempting to hit up as many Turkish tourist destinations as possible. Slightly put off course by the seemingly imminent violent riots in the area, we found ourselves diverted to a deliciously appealing mosk. Upon entrance, we realized we were both dressed in shorts and clearly two slutty to be welcomed. How could we be so silly? We pondered. I remembered earlier in the day when we were picking out our most outrageous outfits.. "Ill wear shorts and runners if you do!?" we planned. How foolish we were. Determined to get in where we werent allowed, we scurried down the to market place, and purchased two pairs of matching sweat pants from the discount rack for 5 Turkish Lyras.. aka, free. We went back to the Mosk and put on our new pairs of pants in front of a distubringly large audience of onlooking tourists.. "Look at how frumpy we look!" cried Science Girl with bursting excitment. "I like the racing stripes'' I replied. We eagerly walked back up the marble steps to the mosk, feeling so delighted about how non-slutty we now were in our matching clothing, clearing purchased from the lice district. When we entered we were enraged to see the Mosk was under construction, and all there was to see was a white piece of dry wall with sketches of what "you would see" if it werent there. ''Well I guess we really didnt need the pants'' SG said with a defeated sigh. "Do you think the street man will let us return them?" I pondered.

Not to have the experience go to complete waste, we exited, and poceeded to put on a fashion show for our own cameras in front of the mosk..to show case the fantastic new/used wardrobe we had aquired. We then hit the cafe's for Cappy, aka Cherry juice, and some sort of vegetable dish which I have yet to learn the name of. We disrobed from our pants and tried to leave them behind on the table. Much to our disapointment, after we left and thought we had escaped them scott-free, a server caught up to us, returning the devil purchases. We both tried to act relived at their return, and sent him on his jolly way. "OK, maybe we need to find a trash bin?" I suggested... and so is the story of the sweatpants- which eventually hit the pavement.

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Blog Alert!

I want all my loyal readers to shift their attention to a hot new blog that has been created on cyber space by one of my fellow traveling besties! Follow her as she travels through Turkey, Eastern Europe, Japan, and only the Virgin Mary herself knows where else!

Best of luck VDPandemic, I thuroughly enjoyed our day in Istanbul together, especially our Mosk attire!

http://vdpandemic.blogspot.com

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65plus Club

Since my last posting, countless blog worthy events have occurred, however due to my 'travel cheapness' and basic hatred towards paying for things I get for free back home, these stories have not made it onto your monitors. Probably the example of this which enraged me most, was when I wanted to order room service, and a can of coke was listed at 15 dollars. I wanted to jump into a pool of coke-esque acid when I read this amount, and hoped that it was listed in some foregin currency which had no value, like the Antarctic penguin coin.

So I have since joined up with a tour group, as I am lazy, and the thought of totting myself around Turkey was not high on my list of things to do. To be frank, I would say that the average age of participants in the tour I choose is 65.. at least. To the untrained brain, this situation would present itself as a horrible one.. however really this is probably the second best scenario, the first being I meet some new wealthy Turkish vegabons who insist on yachting me around the Mediterranean.. but since I refuse to speak with strangers, there is no possibility of this situation presenting itself. Perhaps I could place a wanted ad? Anyways, I created a mental list of pro's whilst on the bus today, as I watched an elderly couple argue about drawing the blinds on the window.
1. I will be worshiped and idolized by the seniors, all vicariously living through me.
2. Seniors always open up to youth like myself, exposing the trails and errors of their lives, thus increased entertainment value.
3. Seniors love gossip. Often, early in the day, when seniors are most alert, I will plant a small seed of gossip, which by lunch time will have full throttle spread amongst the group like wild fire. For example, ''Did you know Shelley is lactose intolerant?"
4. Seniors=controversy. This point is most entertaining for me, as the smallest miscommunication, or sign of confusion sets of mass pandemonium amongst the group. Every day, we are supposed to have "seat rotation", each person is supposed to move up 2 seats. Fairly simple to the common 22 year old. Every morning, mass choas erupts when someone gets to the front of the row. "Where do I go now?", ''How can this be?" They would exclaim with a tone so strained with fear that one may believe that the bus were plumeting towards a cliff. Tomorrow I plan to completly throw off the group by switching over to the next row, and watching the little gremlins squirm.

When all these ridiculously hilarious moments occur, I simply rest back in my chair and watch the mayhem unfold, as I mildly chuckle under my breath.

Some readers may think I am going crazy, but they are all wrong. There are some friendly 20'somethings on the tour, which I prodominantly spend my time with. 1 American girl from LA, and 2 Asian-American girls from NYC with broken english. Today I found a turtle on one of our walks, and I immideietly ran to Jenny and Nelly and they practically tore off their Hello Kitty napsacks seeking their cameras. At one of the Roman ruins today, the three of us found a little dark tunnel leading to heaven knows where. I convinced Jenny to step into the dark tunnel to take a picture to try to see what was in it. Nelly and I trapped her in and she started screaming.. but it was covered up by my laughture.

Tomorrow we are off to see the Virgin Mary's homestead, and hopefully none of the 65plus participants in my tour arent religious, because I have a basket full of questions just waiting to be asked to our tour guide about Christianity. "So a VIRGIN gave birth?.. who knew?"

Pray for me.

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