Europe 2007 - 2008


Saturday, October 13, 2007

I had a little scare when I tried to purchase my bus ticket to Ankara this morning. It seemed to be “one of those best laid plans … gone astray.” When I arrived in Goreme a few days ago, I asked the bus company agent if I should by my ticket to Ankara right away. He told me I could wait to buy the ticket until the day before I wanted to leave town. So today when I went to purchase the ticket, the agent at the bus company told me no seats were available; everyone was traveling home after Ramadan. “OK, so now what do I do?” My flight out of Ankara is early Monday morning and I need to get to Ankara tomorrow. The ticket agent, an older grumpy sort of fellow, suggested I go to a larger city, Aksaray, about an hour south of Goreme, though Ankara is about four hours north of Goreme. The agent’s point was, Aksaray has more bus companies, and I should be able to get a bus to Ankara from there.

I went off for a walk, and kept thinking about what I should do to get to Ankara tomorrow. On the way back into town, I stopped the “New and Used” bookshop. The sign outside the bookstore read: “Information on Travel to all of Turkey.” The woman who owns the store, Maggie, from Leeds, England, helped me go through the options. She too felt uncomfortable with my just going to Aksaray in the morning. What if the busses were full there too? Her suggestion was that I go back to the bus agent and ask him to confirm a seat would be available in Aksaray. Maggie and I also talked about other options. Perhaps I could rent a car and drive to Ankara. She thought that I could probably hire a driver to take me to Ankara in a private car, and she even made a few phone calls to see what that might cost; it would cost 250 YTL (~$230.00). Maggie called a car rental company too, and they had no cars available due to the end of Ramadan, but it would have cost 82 YTL (~$78.00). So armed with some information, I returned to the bus company a few blocks away.

This time, a younger, more cooperative, ticket agent confirmed that they indeed had no seats to Ankara on the one bus that was going there tomorrow morning, but he suggested I check with two other bus companies who also run scheduled busses to Ankara. The other agent, ‘Mr. Grumpy’, never mentioned the other bus companies. He definitely left me with the impression that his was the only bus out of Goreme to Ankara, and I only had the Aksaray option. The younger agent, however, did agree that it would also be likely for me to catch a bus in Aksaray, if none were available at the other to companies here in Goreme. So off I went to check the other two bus companies. The second company had no seats on their bus, but the third, and last, company had one seat on the evening bus tomorrow that I immediately purchased for 20 YTL (~$18). Then I walked back to Maggies’ bookstore to tell her that her help panned out; I also bought a book in her store.

Sunday, October 14, 2007

I am spending the day around the hostel, listening to music, talking to other guests, and generally relaxing until I have to catch the bus this evening. My plan is to head to the airport near Ankara from the bus station tonight. I will try to find a place to stay near to the airport.

One of the young Australians at the ANZAC House back in Canakkale had downloaded a pod cast of an Australian TV show called: “Chasers War on Everything.” The show has a group of guys who set up ridiculously funny situations and tape them for broadcast, sort of like the old “Candid Camera” show, but different. I watched an episode that had a couple of the guys acting as government inspectors on the streets of Sidney. The “inspectors” stopped young men to measure the amount of their underwear that showed above their pant’s belt. The young men who were stopped obeyed the “inspectors.” If the underwear showing was more than about an inch, the “inspectors” issued a certificate with a “fine” due and payable to a phony government office. I was rolling with laughter.

On another Chaser’s show, the guys on the street were interviewing Americans about Barak Obama. They had a questionnaire with three or four choices. The guys asked Americans “what they thought should be done about Barak Obama .” The choices were things like: “1) Let him continue what he’s doing. 2) Arrest him for his activities. 3) Sentence him to life in prison. Etc.” I’m sure you get the idea. One of the people interviewed went on and on about how Barak Obama should be given the electric chair, nothing would be too harsh! Many people thought he should definitely be thrown in jail for his crimes! It was so funny, and yet, so sad.

The other day, hiking through the Ihlara Valley here in Cappadocia, we met a group of about fifteen Israeli cyclists. They had really rugged mountain bikes, and were cycling throughout Turkey. They had been in the high mountains of eastern Turkey. We talked a little and they asked me if I was also a cyclist. Yes, I answered, “especially in my younger days.” So they scolded me for not keeping up with cycling, very Israeli, I think.

When people ask me where I am from, I tell them Virginia, USA. Many respond “Oh, Richmond, Virginia.” I think they know of Richmond from cigarettes. Many people smoke cigarettes in Europe. I saw no anti-smoking campaigns in Turkey, and even in the other countries that I have visited, a lot of people smoke. The worst thing of all is that people ignore no-smoking signs in major public places, like onboard the ferries, and in airports. The authorities don’t seem to care.

Monday, October 15, 2007

It started to drizzle as I left the Rock Valley ‘Pansian,’ my hostel in Goreme. The bus station is only a few blocks away. A few other people were waiting for the bus, including a couple of dental students from England. They were finishing a program in Istanbul, where they practice dentistry for about six months before returning to England and graduating. Had an interesting discussion about what it’s like to practice dentistry in England. The national health care system covers some dental work, but British people who choose not to wait a really long time for service, e.g., months or years even, have two choices. They can pay for private dental work, or they can go to one of the former Eastern Block nations for really inexpensive dental care.

The bus arrived in Goreme station 45 minutes late portending a long night. It took about six hours, not the four I had anticipated, to get to Ankara. About midnight, the bus pulled into the humongous terminal in Ankara. The Ankara bus terminal may even be larger than the one in Istanbul; it looks like a very large airline terminal with three levels. Next, I had to board a second bus for the half hour ride to the sparkling new Ankara airport. Since my flight was scheduled to depart at 7:30 a.m., and I would have to check in an hour or so before, I decided not to bother trying to find a hotel room. I stayed in the airport’s passenger waiting area for four hours and then checked in for my one-hour long flight to Izmir. The flight was delayed about twenty minutes, of course.

My next challenge was getting from the airport in Izmir to Kusadasi where I would catch the ferry to Samos, Greece. There were no busses from the airport in Izmir to the bus terminal; I had to take a bus into the center or downtown Izmir where I could walk a block to a bus company’s in-town office to buy the ticket to Kusadasi. Thankfully, a shuttle took me and the other passengers to the bus terminal on the outskirts of the city. It was around noon when I finally boarded the bus to Kusadasi.

So, all told, my goal was to save having to ride an overnight bus for fourteen hours from Goreme to Izmir. Instead, I wound up catching a one-hour long plane ride to Izmir, but in reality I traveled about twenty hours! So flying took six hours longer than riding the bus would have taken, and involved much more of a hassle.

Finally, exhausted, but in Kusadasi, the port town, I bought a ticket for the ferry leaving to Samos in the morning, and I checked into the Limon Hotel, just a block from the ferry terminal, for a much needed rest.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Got up early and refreshed, had breakfast at the hotel, and walked to the ferry dock. My fellow passengers and I went through quite a few security checks to board the ferry. The Turkish port-security guards took everyone’s passport, and while we cooled our heels outside, the guards went into the building with the documents. We waited about half an hour, then the security guards came out and started reading the names on the passports. As a person’s name was read, he would claim his passport and take his baggage into the customs control area. Then came the standard x-rays and spot checks, and finally people were allowed to board the ferry.

Waiting to board the ferry was not too bad for me as I made a few friends. A couple from England and I had a great conversation that we continued during the boat trip. They were retired and living in France, near Normandy. Our conversation ranged over many topics, including our experiences traveling in Turkey. Their names were David and Maryke Stansfield. They had been staying in the home of a British friend in Turkey, and were visiting Samos for the day. Many British, German, and Swedish people own vacation homes in Turkey that they rent to tourists. In fact there are whole communities of Europeans in many of the seaside towns in Turkey. I think there may even be some Americans in the group, but if so, I did not meet any.

Maryke told me about friends of theirs from England, who also retired early and have done some adventure travel on horseback. Her friends decided to travel the route that the British pilgrims took on the crusades from France to Rome. They had to do a lot of research to determine the exact route, and it took them a lot of time to plan the trip. While riding horseback across Europe, they sent reports home that were published in the local papers, and after the trip the wife, Babette Gallard, wrote a book called Riding the Milky Way. I plan to purchase and read it.

The ferry trip to Samos took only about an hour and a half, and again, we had to pass through customs and immigration, Greek this time. However, unlike the boarding process, entry took only a few minutes. Samos Town is the largest community on the island. The main street runs along the waterfront; cafes, shops, and all kinds of tourist services face the harbor. My first stop was the ferry office to buy a ticket for my next destination, Mykonos. Then I wandered around town, had lunch, and visited the archeology museum to see the twelve-foot tall Kouros Statue.

After seeing Samos Town, it’s not a very large town, I rented a car, a very small, sub-sub-compact Subaru to drive around the island. My first destination would be Pythagorio, the hometown of Pythagoras. I was looking for a “right triangle.” Actually, I am starting to feel as though the country of Greece is the land of mathematics. All the signs are written as Greek formula; my days of calculus and science have returned with a vengeance. Believe it or not, I can almost read Greek. I have not been able to solve all the equations, but I can sort of pronounce the letters. See what a science education will do!

In Pythagorio, I stayed at a place called Lambis House; the owner, whose name is Lambis, had lived in New York City for thirty years. Both he and his brother worked as Maitre’d at the Plaza Hotel, very upscale. Lambis is now a delightful older man, I’d say in his 80’s. He insisted that I sit and have a cup of Greek coffee with him; his wife served us and we talked for an hour. He told me he loves America, and had a map of New York City on his wall. He knew the street addresses for many of the city’s famous places. He really seemed to enjoy showing off his knowledge to me.

Later, I met Lambis’ brother and sister-in-law. They were visiting from New Jersey, where they currently live. The sister-in-law, Lisa, was born in Hungary, and each year she and her husband,
Andreus, take a trip to Hungary, then visit Lambis in Samos, and also spend some time in their Greek home in Patras. I got a standing invitation to visit them if I am around Patras in the next month.

In our discussion about my intention to visit Mykonos next, Andreus told me that the average Greek looks down on Mykonos as a place for wealthy people to build expensive homes. That comment triggered a memory of Jackie Kennedy Onasis and her husband owning a home there. Oh well, I already bought the ticket. Maybe, I’ll meet a very rich lady.

The change from Turkey to Greek Samos is very noticeable. The architecture is different, and I would say the character of the people is also different. While the Turks were very nice and friendly, I never got invited to visit someone’s home, and the Turks were too busy to sit and chat over a cup of coffee. I liked Turkish food, especially the baklava, and I think I am going to like Greek food a well. So far, I have had several delightful meals. For breakfast, I had a bowl of yogurt with cut fresh fruit (peaches, bananas, etc.), and honey drizzled over the top of the fruit. It’s really good. I also had a Greek salad here. It’s not like the Greek salads back home. Here the Greek salad has cut chunks of tomato, green pepper slices, onions and olives. There was no lettuce in the Greek salad, and on top of the vegetables was a rectangular slab of fata cheese sprinkled with oregano. The olive oil and vinegar were served on the side for you to use as much or little as you choose. Back home, of course, the feta cheese is crumbled, there’s a lot of lettuce, and the whole thing is drenched in too much olive oil and vinegar. Andreus, commented that Greeks like the way Greek salad is served in America, while, like me, Americans prefer the way it’s served here in Greece. Go figure.
The best thing about Samos is the local wine. They grow a Muscat grape, and produce a sweet wine called Samos Vin Doux; it’s almost a liqueur. I plan to buy it back home; it is a delicious desert wine and I’m hooked.

Spiliani Monastery is high above Pythagorio; you can see the white bell tower from the coast road. I drove there only to discover the Monastery is in an underground cave, extraordinary. They have white washed some of the cave walls, and have built a chapel far in the back of the cave. A young woman, also visiting, had lit some candles. She spoke English well, and told me she had just returned from New York where she completed a course to get her American medical certification. She had completed medical school in Greece, but planned to emigrate and practice in America. There were wonderful icons in the chapel area and some religious stone carvings outside on the cave walls.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

This morning, I walked a couple of blocks to the harbor street in Pythagorio and had breakfast in an outdoor café looking out into the blue waters of the Mediterranean. It was just like in the movies! After breakfast, I wandered around a little and then packed up for the return trip over the mountains to Samos town.

En route, I stopped in a village called Mytilinii to visit a small natural history museum. Tucked away in a corner display was the story of a native son, Nikolas Vartzikos. He sailed across the Atlantic, from Norfolk, Virginia to Samos, Greece, alone in 1988; settled in America, joined the US government expedition to Antarctica, and still lives and works as a scientist in America.

I drove over the mountains; photographed vineyards and a mountain chapel, and then wound my way into Samos town. I dropped off my luggage at the ferry terminal, went to have lunch and dole away a few hours before boarding the ferry to Mykonos.

The ferry landed in Mykonos around midnight, and several people from local hotels and guesthouses were at the dock. I negotiated with a nice woman named Marietta to stay in her guesthouse for the next two nights. She offered free transportation from the dock, and that made things a lot easier for me. I did not want to find my way around the narrow, winding hilly streets in the middle of the night. Marietta’s beautiful accommodations included a full kitchen, double beds, a lovely tiled bathroom and a private roof top terrace overlooking the ocean. Myknos is the picture postcard Greek island blue trimmed glistening whitewashed houses. When we arrived, Marietta insisted we walk around a little so I could get my bearings. Mind you it’s about 1:00 a.m.as Marietta and I walk through the narrow streets. By the time we get back to the guesthouse and settle all the check-in details, it was almost 2:00 a.m. when I finally got to bed.

Philip Sternberg
Scoutmaster, Troop 1131

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