Wednesday, December 15, 2010
The Mini Buss is actually a public Turkish buss in Denizli, we come to realize, and is crammed to the brim with an assortment of very colorful people. We are dropped off in the quite dubious looking little town of Pamukkale, which happens to look nothing like all the pictures we have seen, but it is the off season so we're gona give it a chance. Weather it was the ten hour bus ride from Olympos, or the ever growing hunger pit in our stomaches we let ourselves get coaxed into a room at a place that slightly resembled what the hotel may have looked like in the 80's; we were starting to notice a trend. This coaxing, which is like coning with a smile, is something were are getting good training in dealing with, and let me tell you it won't be a problem much longer. We collapsed in our dirty bed, and decided better grab some grub and hit the sack, but on our way into town we were coaxed to eat at the hotel, which we were assured would be cheaper and traditional, and we thought what the hell, and i am sure that if we had eaten it within a few days of it being cooked it may have been good. The next day, when I managed to stay away from the toilet for more than five minutes, we trekked to the famous Roman Bathes, but being the genius that I am, decided to ignore the looming clouds and Nimas advice and just wore my swim trunks, then I managed to use the last bit of my optimism to ginks the clouds into drenching us by saying, 'Hey at least its not raining.'
The Bathes were at one point very beautiful, and you can still see potential, but make sure your in the mood to stair at more ruins, if you hadn't had your fill. To go into the famous Cleopatra Bath you should prepared to spend about 80 american, oh and if you want maybe a freekin beer to chill you out or just some stale crappy french fries to fill the burning hole in your stomach be prepared to fork out another 20. But hey if I were you I'd save myself allot of money and damn near hypothermia and just take a quick trip to the DMV for a similar experience. I was spent at this point, emotionally and physically, but Nima, who I must say has the stomach of a goat, was pissed and done. In a gust of feminine glory she went back into our hotel to tell them that we were leaving, but to her dismay there was no one there, so we packed up left a 50 lira note on the bed and bailed to a much better place that Nima originally wanted to go to, and our trip to Pamukkale turned around.
Thanks for hearing me out I think I really needed to vent.
We spent the night Drinking beer, eating our first veggie meal in Turkey, and playing backgammon with a very nice couple that ran the hotel. The beds were cleaner and so was the food, both of these things were cheaper as well, plus they ran a travel service and hooked us up with a bus in the morning back to Istanbul. That place made it all worth the trip. After another 12 hour cross country trek we were back with our friends Onar and Turan, the guys who generously offered us their couch. They had kept track of our bags while we paraded around their country, and it was nice to get back to friendly faces and a clean place to sleep. We had what we thought was the luxury of a few days to spend in Istanbul before our flight to India, but unfortunately we realized that Midnight thirty on the ninth actually came dangerously close to the eighth, which happened to be that day, so we scrambled to see the Hagia Sophia which had a history as long as something really long. The place was a Palace, then a Temple, then after Constantine the Great, it was Catholic, Constantine changed Istanbul to Constantinople, then it got changed back, and the Hagia became Muslim, but now it it is a famous and majestic tourist trap, but a nice place to wonder around before a flight. We also rampaged through the Grand Bazar, but it wasn't bazar at all, it was a mall, but the coolest and oldest mall ever, lets just say I saw some rugs that would really tie my room together back home and some hookahs to burn holes in that rug. Cool place. After a quick bite with Tunar at a place we quickly became locals at; eating there every night, our host took us to eat the best desert, aside from Grandmas red velvet cake, I have ever had, real baklava with whip cream. Then we grabbed our bags and jammed to the airport for our next three and a half hour time change. Thanks guys for all the help! In the line for our tickets I was informed by a representative of Arabia Air that I could not take my guitar on the flight unless I played for them, right their in the airport, in front of everyone. A rather crazy form of security, by my rendition of Cecelia by Paul Simon seemed to suffice.
We landed with red eyes to the land of saffron, sorrys, and samosas, but man I felt high from the lack of sleep, so we giggled our way through customs which was surprisingly painless. Then our adventure truly began, stay tuned after a word from our sponsors.
With my hectic travel schedule its hard to stay healthy, different vitamins and minerals, its all so hard to keep track of, thats why I put my trust in Citricidal TM. Just 15 drops in your water every day to keep you off the toilet and on your feet. Its grapefruit seed extract liquid concentrate, and take it from me, it really works. That or a shot of whiskey after a shaky meal.
You know Mr. Toads Wild Ride, it's got nothing on a rickshaw ride through the streets of Delhi. The things you see going down the road; horses, oxen, children on motor scooters, bicycles dragging scaffolding. Cows with more makeup than Paris Hilton crossing whenever they please, and everyone stops for them, and you know the best part, NO STARBUCKS, I wondered if I didn't survive the ride and I just ended up in heaven. I will take the poppa squat toilets any day over seeing a starbucks on every corner, no joke. For the first few days we couch surfed and explored with some other surfers we met, Robert and Jadah, who showed us the wonder of foot travel in Delhi, which I will use my SAT skills to describe. Foot travel in Santa Cruz is to foot travel in Delhi as driving at Disney Land is to Driving In LA. Its not the best metaphor, in fact I'm not sure it's a metaphor at all, but I hope you can see what I mean. We checked out the biggest Mosque in all of Delhi, which I managed to snap a rather imaginative photo of, completely accidentally by the way. We had bon fires and played music, and one night I got drunk and rode a horse, you know when you get all drunk, then the next morning your girlfriend is like, "what did you do last night?' but in your memory you had spent it together until you get this flash of riding a horse through the streets of Delhi; it was like that. I ate something too, but I don't remember what, but I'm alive thanks to Citricidal TM. Next we caught the couch surfing wave to Neerag's door, he's an old friend of Eve's from her time at the English Embassy. It was great to meet him, and he's giving us much appreciated local advice, as well as letting us chill at a sweet pool where the hot December sun is warming our souls.
So it looks like this episode has really came full circle folks, I was a little worried about those two for a while, but I sure am glad they pulled through. Until next time keep dreaming, and ask your doctor if Citricidal TM is right for you.
Posted by Matt OBannon and Nima Sinclair at 6:02 AM