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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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