alone but never lonely

if i hear, "don't you ever get lonely traveling by yourself?" "isn't it all a bit sad to go to these great places all by your lonesome?" "it can't be safe traveling alone to all these countries!" one more time i'm gonna i'm gonna cut a bitch with my Hosteling International card!

the funny thing about traveling alone is that ironically, i'm never really alone.

living in los angeles can be incredibly lonely. my friends live at all corners of the sprawling city and just coordinating lunch can be a challenging endeavor. we all freelance in the film industry so none of us ever have a clue if we're going to get a call to work the day of the lunch or not. it's incredibly frustrating but you get used to it after a while. so i actually feel more alone in my own city than i do when i'm in a strange place in some far flung destination.

for example, the first day of my recent middle east trip in amman, jordan i checked into my hostel and entered an empty dorm. late in the night someone came in with a backpack and fell asleep. in the morning we both woke up and hit it off immediately. for the next 4 days we ventured around the city and braved the busses to small towns. we sampled new foods together and figured out that right now it's better to be american (god bless obama) than danish (the mohammed cartoons). this right here is the greatest thing about staying in hostel. you have a built in social network right when you check in. i like to stay in dorms because i can pick people's brains about where i'm going and they can pick mine about where i've been. where did you like to stay? where did you get bed bugs? wanna have some dinner tonight? my friend in amman, ann mai, became a good friend and when i went back through amman at the end of my trip we were able to catch up and chat into the night.

i prefer staying in female dorms as opposed to mixed dorms because the reality is, women don't smell that bad. i've walked into a mixed dorm and nearly been knocked off my (not so stinky) feet by some random dude's gnarly foot odor. or worse, those guys who wear their stank like a freaking trophy. you know the ones, "duuuude, i've just gotten back from trekking through the amazon for 10 days and it's crazy how like, you don't smell after a while. i feel like a real man, man" duuuude, the hostel will need to burn your mattress when you leave cuz like, man, you frickin REEK! damn hippie wanna-bes.

dorms are quite safe too, in the 12 odd years i've been seriously traveling i've never had anything stolen. most people don't want to carry anything more than what they have crammed into their own pack. and most travelers believe in karma, if i steal something from you, i'm gonna get hit ten fold. having said that, i usually look for lockers that lock in the room to keep my camera, passport, and other valuables safe cuz you just never know. some bitches be shady...

i have stayed in everything from hostels to guesthouses, b and b's to hiltons and even a private island. i have nothing against a nice splurge every now and again but i find that it's nearly impossible to engage any other travelers in a big hotel or resort. most who stay there are coupled up or with their kids or are there on business and therefore have no need to befriend you. even in b and b's and guesthouses it can be challenging to find like minded travelers. the quaint house in a neighborhood is great for getting the feel of being a local and sometimes the family takes you under their wing but there's usually very few other people staying there to explore the city with. but sometimes actually, that's the best thing about staying in one of those accommodations. there are times when i pretend that i've just moved to town and am renting this nice pad. i can shop where the locals shop, get my fruit from where my new "neighbors" get theirs, or just be solitary if i choose to be. and i get the low down on the local gossip from my hosts!

so please don't ever think that traveling alone is lonely. most of the time it's the polar opposite! in restaurants it's rare that the people next to me don't invite me to join. and it's way easier for someone on a bus to start a conversation if you're by yourself. and that's where the best adventures begin! when i was in rural jordan i was riding the local bus when a girl came up next to me and we started chatting. she was super nice, dressed in a pretty hijab and we talked for quite a while. after about 20 minutes she asked me if i would like to come to her family's home for dinner that evening. surprised by the invitation i quickly said yes before reason could take hold. i got off at her stop and we went to her parents house where they had made quite the spread on the floor in my honor! after dinner we started playing dress up with the girls in the family and they dressed me up in proper muslim garb. it was magical! they showed me how to properly do up a headscarf and i spent the rest of the evening feeling incredibly comfortable in my new look. at the end of the night there was hugs for the girls and simple "goodbyes" for the guys. this kindness probably wouldn't have been extended to me had i been with someone else. and it sure as hell wouldn't have happened if i was a man! all the men traveling solo that i met said that they had never been invited to a local's home but nearly all the women i met had been. it's good to be a girl!

and when you're walking on a nice stretch of beach at sunset there's always some nice locals playing soccer and you can join in. or if you're like me, there's usually a handsome young traveler walking down that gorgeous beach right next to me... ; )

don't wait for someone else to fit your dream into their schedule! just freakin' GO!!

Taking the Leap

after becoming inspired by "the happiness project" (a fabulous book by gretchen rubin) and meeting someone today that kinda kicked me in the arse, i have decided to attempt to post more blogs about being a solo traveler and the beauty and drama that goes along with it.

traveling alone is a gift. i'm able to decide where and when to do whatever i want, which is something that is exceedingly rare for most of us. it's given me opportunities to succeed in something i never thought i'd ever be able to do (white water rafting) and fail miserably and horribly, but in hindsight hilariously (thinking i had arrived at my stop in budapest way earlier than i had expected and lunging myself and heavy backpack off the then moving train only to kill my knees and realize it wasn't my stop after all, much too late).

traveling solo means you are exposed to the kindness of strangers in ways that you couldn't have imagined. it means relying on your wits alone when you are lost, night is falling, and you need to get back to the hostel and you seem to be in a sketchy area. it's the good and the bad and most of all, the beautiful. and it's a lot safer than anyone can imagine! so many women (and men) think that it's dangerous to travel alone. what if i get mugged or worse, raped? what if i lose my atm card and can't get money out? what if i'm followed? what if, what if, WHAT IF??? I live in los angeles and all of those things are more likely to happen in my own city than most other places in the world. i'll never forget how i met a swedish guy in fiji, he asked where i was from. when i said los angeles, he looked at me in horror and said, "but there's gangs and drive-bys and lots of murders there!" it just goes to show it's all perspective. not that i don't take precautions because i do. i take krav maga (israeli self defense) and i don't go out and get wasted in a club when i travel. to some that may sound boring but i like to wake up early and explore a town on foot before the local's work day begins. and since i've had my drink drugged before (in los angeles thank you very much) i don't ever want to feel helpless again, especially in a foreign country. so for me the benefits of not having a hangover and coming in safe far outweigh the bummer of not partying the night away.

my main goal with this new and hopefully improved blog is the show you that it's easy, fun, safe, and cheap to travel solo! don't be afraid to take off by yourself! never wait for someone else to fit your dreams into their schedule. take this opportunity to do what YOU want to do with no reservations or fear. it can be done. i'm walking proof!

The Love of Strangers

border crossings are usually a joyous thing for me. i love the ritual of handing over the passport, being looked at like i may not be the person in the photo, then them flipping thru the pages of my packed passport looking for a blank page. but this one was a little more stressful than the norm.
in the morning i flew from beirut to amman, then took a taxi 45 minutes to the jordanian border. after passing thru immigration there, i boarded a bus which drove about 15 minutes to the border of israel and i dove into the throbbing mass that was israeli immigration. after sweating it out and pushing my way to the window through what must have been about 200 people i was given the once over and joined another line which brought me to security, then another line brought me to israeli immigration. "where are you going in israel?" the girl said. having been briefed by other travelers to say that i was only going to the israeli side, i replied "jerusalem, tel aviv, haifa. the ususal!" she asked if i was going to the west bank. i said "oh noooo, my mother would kill me! ha!" she stamped me in and i went on my way to the busses to jerusalem. after arriving in jerusalem i hopped a bus straight away to ramallah where my friend moe was waiting for me!
jerusalem is a bustling city and through the kindness of strangers i found the old arab bus station where i caught the bus. the roads are paved well and traffic is orderly. but when we got to the qalandia checkpoint where you cross into the west bank everything changed. first you see the barbed wire. then you see the wall. a massive wall with circular towers looking like it's out of the movie "district 9" imposes itself on your field of vision. there are tanks and armed soldiers everywhere. it looks as if you're entering a prison, and in a way you are. they don't hassle you much getting in so i was thankful for that. when i rounded the bend at the checkpoint the road falls away a bit and there is graffiti on the walls: "free palestine". nothing is as nicely maintained as on the other side of the wall and i find out why later (palestine needs permission from the israeli government to build or maintain ANYTHING). when i arrived at the bus station i meet a man who moved back here from st. louis, missouri and he helped me call moe so i could tell him where i was.
when my friend picked me up, he took me to a hotel where i stayed for the next 3 nights. the hospitality of palestinians is legendary, the give and give, and just when you think there is no more, they give again. i was to learn this repeatedly for my stay. in the west we are unused to such unrestrained generosity, because usually there is an ulterior motive. here, there seems to be none. it's a very strange feeling and i never got totally used to it, i was always trying to pay my way. that's just our custom and as you know, i'm a very independent woman and don't like anyone paying for me. letting someone pay for me was incredibly hard and i always felt a bit uncomfortable about it.
but we had a great time driving around to nablus, bethlehem, jericho, and a million other places i can't remember the names of! the food was amaaazing as well, and the muslims know how to do juice so i indulged as often as i could. shisha was a nice way to relax but i couldn't do it very often as it made my head spin a bit!
the very best part of my trip was hanging out with moe's sisters and thier kids. nadia and i went to jerusalem for the day and ate my favorite food EVER, kneffe. we walked a bit in the old city then went to see al aqsa mosque and the dome of the rock. unfortunately they wouldn't let me in to either place so i had to stay out and admire the beauty of the tile work while my friend prayed.
we left for ramallah again, always avoiding the main checkpoints. sometimes what is 14 kilometers away takes an hour to get there because you can't go certain places, you have to drive all the way around them eating up gas and time. and by the way, gas is $8 a gallon here so you can imagine the cost of commuting. but we were excited because the other sisters were preparing something called "upside down" for me. i had never had it but the dreamy look in thier eyes when they described it clinched the deal. i was dying to try it! when we got back to their home i met all the girls in the family and promptly fell in love. these people have beauty, charm, and humor by the truckload. i was instantly in love with all of them!
when it came time to eat we went to another apartment (they have 3 apartments on the same floor and all live kind of communally, very convenient. although if i lived that close to my family i might have to kill them) and sat around the table. it's called upside down because in the pot the chicken is on the bottom, then the veggies, then the rice. you flip it over onto a big platter and then the order is reversed. it is flipped with a flourish! and the smell! good god it's like nothing else. it's spiced and prepared with love and i really think you can smell that love! they made a salad and an eggplant dish, a yogurt side, and pickled baby eggplants. it was a fabulous spread!
there was talk laughter and even a song. one of the girls, about 15 years old was coerced into singing and i really didn't expect much. most people think they can sing and really they are, at best, mediocre. this girl, this fabulous girl opened her mouth and sang a tune that sent chills down my spine and tears formed in my eyes. even now as i type tears well up in my eyes. du'a has the voice of an angel and i was honored to hear her sing. and another of the girls, rawan, might be a writer one day. she's an incredible girl and has so many talents she need only pick one and she'll be an absolute success. and the younger girls are just so stunningly beautiful i could not take my eyes off of them and so full of love i only hope that one day i can be that open and loving, so completely accepting of a total stranger. thier mothers raised them so well. if we all had mothers so caring and generous this world would not have an ounce of hate in it, the hate would just die out for lack of oxygen.
after we ate there was a surprise for me. the kids disappeared for a few minutes and when they came back they all had a little something in thier hands. i had told them my birthday was coming up and that was the main reason for my trip. it looked like my birthday came early this year! they all went into thier rooms and brought out gifts from thier own belongings for me. a hair clip, a watch, a necklace and bracelets, a pencil box, and a balloon. they presented all this to me and i burst into tears. this was the absolute best birthday i have ever had. these people are the most beautiful people i have ever met. this was the most touching thing that has ever happened to me. it is the very definition of love and i still cannot believe that i have been so blessed to recieve such kindness and love from such good hearted people.
when i left i hated it. i didn't want to leave this home, my new family, this womb of love. i sobbed uncontrollably in the elevator and nid'a held me as we went down. i miss them so much. i'm crying as i write this. i'm so afraid i will never experience this again. i love them all so much, my heart bursts with this love. it is for them that i hope palestine becomes an independent state. it is for them i wish those horrid walls would come down. it is for them that i wish the world would not view palestinians as bad people, as terrorists. they are humans, beautiful compassionate humans who are paying the price for a handful of extremists. they want what we all want: love, freedom, and happiness. i hope they get it. inshallah.

tin tin and the chic sheiks

beirut. lebanon. 20 years ago and also 4 years ago these were loaded words. back in high school and college "beirut", to me, meant bombs, violence, chaos and bodies in the street. i didn't know what they were fighting over but i knew it was bad and not someplace i would ever imagine going. i remember the holiday inn where snipers took position and just picked people off like it was one of those old time shooting galleries at an amusement park. boy, how things change...
today beirut is cosmopolitan and violently hip. the cafes are packed with women in heels and wearing the latest fasions from milan. the men define the word "metrosexual": sharp suits, expensive shoes and all driving either mercedes or bmw. actually the craziest thing is that even the taxi drivers drive new luxury cars! i climbed in one driven by an old man, a sweet new silver mercedes with black leather interior. i said, "this is your car?" and he said it was. i said, "you drive a fancy car like this as your taxi??" he answered yes. i told him, "if this was my car i wouldn't even let my friends sit in this car much less strangers!" he laughed and said if you are lebanese you drive nice cars, it's the culture. love it!
my first stop after checking in to talal's new hotel, (which is niether new or a hotel, it's a coming apart at the seams hostel but the staff make it like a 4 star hotel) i walked to the beirut souks. it sounds like an exotic place where you buy incense from men in robes but in fact it's a first class shopping mall with every label you can think of and more. levels upon levels of everything from designer clothes to h & m to cafes so chic they wouldn't let me in. it was brutally cool and i felt like the scrubby backpacker i was when walking around there. i decided to see something i hadn't seen a million times (meaning, a mall) and walked all along the corniche to the other side of the city. i didn't realize what a ginormous city this was as it took me a solid hour to walk just half way across. along the way i walked though a small pocket of town that hadn't been renovated, a small bit that was still shell shocked, albeit not as bad as sarajevo 8 years ago, but still noticeable. i walked past the holiday inn which still stands, but barely. the windows gape open and there are pockmarks from guns and what looks like missile hits on the side of the building. i don't know if it's a monument to the past or a neglected piece of real estate waiting for a buyer. smack dab next door is the uber swank Phonecian Hotel. it's shocking to see the war torn next to the posh but somehow bierut pulls it off.
lebanon has so much to offer the traveler. it's a tiny country and i was there for one week but it wasn't enough time to see everything i wanted to. i spent 2 nights in saida in the south and also went to tyre where there are lovely roman ruins. saida has a great souk and i wandered for hours eating sweets and sampling perfumed oils. close to beirut is the Jeita Grotto. it's a cave system of stalagtites and -mites and was so stunning and massive i stood with my mouth agape for a good couple of minutes just willing my brain to take it all in. it was so huge that even after being there for 45 minutes i still couldn't quite grasp the magnitude of what i was seeing.
my favorite, though, was baalbek. i thought it so nice i went twice (ha!)! baalbek is an impeccably excavated roman town in the bekaa region of lebanon. the area is best known as the stronghold of hezbollah and as fate would have it i was there for september 11. hezbollah may not be al qaida but it has a legacy of hate that makes them, to my eyes, quite similar. but even this is not so cut and dry: they also do great work for the poor of the region by building schools, creating opportuniies and giving food to the needy. it seems nothing is ever as clear as we would like it to be. but baalbek is clear! it's massive and everything is built on such a grand scale it's hard to believe that humans constructed it. the jupiter gate is a huge staircase leading to an inner temple area. words cannot describe the magnitude of this structure. and because it's in lebanon and not america you can climb all over the ruins, dart up ancient stairwells that lead to nothing but a better view of the area and sit on fallen columns that, laying down, are taller than i am standing up. my favorite was the temple of bacchus. again, this place must have intimidated the hell outta the local populace because while it was missing its roof, all of the other walls were left standing as well as some ancient frescoes on the inner arch of the entryway. it must have been at least 5 storeys high but there was just one level to it making me feel like i was an ant in a mansion. i have to say, i think that baalbek was better than epheses in turkey. and the kicker was that i had the place pretty much to myself. on both occasions there were maybe 30 people total at the site. and the crazy thing is, every site i went to had very few people in it. one had no one but me and the 3 people i was with. indeed it is a good time to visit the middle east. it's safe and the people are so friendly you think they have an ulterior motive, but they don't!
on the drive back from the bekaa region there are massive posters on every street of the hezbollah leader by himself or with local leaders. it's kinda spooky and my driver didn't really want to talk about it because he didn't want to waste his breath on such an idiot. i appreciated his view. no matter what good they do for thier own people, it doesn't make it right for them to go and kill other people. i'm sure somewhere in the koran it must say something to the effect of "love your nieghbor". i've certainly found that muslims are hospitable and caring to forigners and that thier generosity is unparalled. it's such a shame that some bad apples really must spoil the bunch in some people's eyes.
all in all lebanon was an incredible country. the people made it amazing and the delicious food didn't hurt either. if you're looking for a place that not everyone knows about and has loads of history, nightlife, shopping, and cuisine to die for take a look at lebanon. it will surprise you!

Tin Tin Dreams of Salt

i never knew i was so popular. or maybe it's just the arab way...
when i got to amman, jordan i found a fanatastic hostel and a fabulous new friend to go along with it. after sleeping like the dead, ann-mai and i decided to explore the city. figuring america might not be the most beloved country in the middle east i started by telling people i was danish like ann-mai. after bush i am still too used to lying about my nationality and will only say that i'm american in certain places (in africa they loooove us now!). they were always saying, "welcome to jordan!" and eventually i tested my luck by saying i was american. i was met with the same love and generosity as when i said i was danish. maybe even more so! savoring this new, surprising sensation i didn't waver when someone asked where i was from. it was almost liberating. people have been so kind and friendly ever since i got here, i feel what it must be like to be a celebrity! and they don't even want anything from you, just wanting to say welcome thier country.
our days consisted of running around ruins, walking everywhere and eating everything. one night we went in search of dinner and saw a long line and people walking away with these small plates and a blissed out look in thier eyes. we immediately joined the line and were rewarded with kneffe. ooooh, beloved kneffe! sweet of my dreams! the one thing i fantasize over at night and long to have the next day! the description doesn't sound too appetizing but my GOD is it good! it's got white creamy cheese on the bottom and some kind of flour with sugar and sweet syrup on top and served hot. it is love and passion in dessert form. you must experience this for yourself!! after dessert we had dinner. it's been pretty much in that order for the past 2 weeks now and i've realized that this is really the way to live!
one of the days we went to a small town called Salt. it was abut 45 minutes from amman and was a quaint place famous for winding streets and the local scenery. we wanted to see the churches because some are quite old. we didn't realize how old they could be until we stumbled across church al-khalid, or st. george's church. when we walked into the courtyard it looked tiny. but when we went into the actual church it was even smaller, it was a cave with carved wooden panels forming the altar area and about 6 rows of pews. i sat in silence for a while and when we got up to leave a man came up to us and gave us a card of st. george, some oil, and a green wristband. i asked how old the church was and he said 360. as in 360 c.e. holy mother of god, this was an ooooold church. he took us back in and showed us a footprint and said that it was st. george's foot. when i looked at the panels again i saw that they were in fact carved dragons and looking around i noticed that all the pictures and icons were of st. george. we walked away awestruck and intent on finding out more on this little nugget of a church. when we got back we both went online and looked for the church. neither one of us found a thing but a couple of photos taken by other travelers. no documentation of any sort. it was like a day dream.

tin tin in a fairy chimney!!

the ear splitting squeal in my ear and the continuous kicking of my seat harkened the last of my overnight bus journeys. for 11 hours from istanbul to goreme in cappadocia it continued. just when i thought the little fucker was asleep he would squeal at a level that even ted nugent would flinch at. i'm officially too old for this.
i was awake to see the sun rise and awake to see the abrupt beauty of cappadocia. this was indeed the only thing on that ride i was grateful for. spires rose from the baklava colored ground looking for all the world like malformed penises or those long skinny mushooms you see at the market. i prefer the penis analogy! penises EVERWHERE!!! woohoooo!
as i rolled into goreme, a small tourist town laden with hotels and carpet shops, i hobbled out of the bus and got a map. i had reserved a dorm room at the flintstones cave hostel. of course i did, it's got "flintstones" in the name, how could i pass that up?? i found it easily as it's a really small town and asked to see the room. it was dank and crammed with beds. this would not do, i'm in cappa-freakin-docia, land of the fairy chimneys and caves! this is the moment i'm happy to have the choice of staying in a hostel or not. i'm not staying in a pit, i'm gonna find a fairy chimney dammit. high season or no, the chimney will be mine.
i check the bible aka lonely planet guide, and see that the kelebek cave hotel looks good and it's just around the corner. i lug my backpack dead uphill and see a majestic castle. god/allah please have a room for me! i find reception and plop my sweaty self down on the leather couch and look at the woman pleadingly. she checks. flips pages. "i have a fairy chimney for tonight but then you'll have to move to a cave jr. suite. the total is 100euro." done and done. i have a lovely complementary breakfast consisting of olives, honey, figs, spicy things, and a selection of cheese. yes, i am home.
for those who have asked, a fairy chimney is what they call the stone spires that were formed by wind and erosion. they are hollowed out and made into small rooms. mine has steep stairs up to the wooden door and once inside there is one window. it barely holds a twin bed and my backpack and there's no bathroom, it's down those steep stairs near the reception. the only thing i can think of is how interesting this will be when i have to pee in the middle of the night. this invariably happens when i'm staying in places where i don't have a ready toilet. like camping in kenya where there are hippos and crocs in close proximity. or mongolia where you have to walk the length of a football field to get to the hole in the ground. lovely.
the evening in the fairy chimney (i love saying that) was divine and i was well rested for my southern tour the next day. me and a handful of others went to see a roman excavation, a greek village, and a rad ass underground city that was dug over about 500 years through rock. in the 2nd century christians came and took over the area. they lived in relative peace til the 11th century when the muslims came. for a while i think they lived in harmony but then the christians were basically kicked out. i think it was more about the fact that they had some pretty nice farmland than religion, but i'm no expert in this area. the locals lived and worshipped in caves that they carved out of rock. it was cool inside and protected them from invaders and weather. the caves that are exposed now are where the rock has fallen away or eroded and you can see inside thier dwellings. gotta say, it's kinda a sweet place to live. they carved niches for light and places to sit and it's all on view for the modern tourist!
that night i slept in my junior suite which was right next to the pool. i never did go in that pool although it looked inviting. the evenings brought a tasty dinner with sunset views of cappadocia. i didn't want to leave, it was so beautiful!
the next morning i woke before the butt crack of dawn and ambled down the cobbled path to the balloon agency. this was the morning i was to take my first hot air balloon ride! after a bit of coffee we climbed aboard the bus that was to take us to the balloon. the drive over was gorgeous as the light was seeping over the mountains and chimneys and balloons lay still sleeping on the ground. arriving at our balloon, it was just waking up. the fan was blowing a thick flame into the balloon and it was gently rising like a lethargic child. the basket was wicker, just like when ballooning began, and i felt like a was in a child's storybook. about 10 of us piled in and anxiously awaited lift off. when i came i didn't even notice, so subtle and smooth it was. but when i saw the ground giving way to air i realized we were well and truly off!
we ascended quickly and drifted toward a valley. most other balloons were still earth bound and those that were lifting were still below us so we got a fabulous view. i couldn't believe we were flying! it was so solid, no swaying or bumping. i leaned over the side and looked straight down. it was surreal! we floated to the valley then somehow dipped low enough to go in and get a closer look at the caves. it was astounding how we could go so far in with this massive bit of nylon above us. but down we went, so close to the trees it seemed as if the birds may leave the tree and rest in our basket. when it looked like we may hit the end of the valley's cleft we rose gently and kept ascending, now able to see all the other balloons that woke up and took to the sky. there must have been at least 20 others and they were all primary colored like the pictures of balloons that hung on my wall when i was little. we soared over villages and over a man on a donkey who seemed not to have left the 19th century. it was peaceful but with the spurts of fire that roared above. somehow even that was relaxing. i guess because if it wasn't for that noise we would be barrelling towards earth and that would just shatter the moment.
when we landed it was a thump, lift, thump, lift, thump. we landed safely and without incident. which i found slightly unfortunate. i mean, how cool would it be to be in a hot air balloon mishap?? but no, then it was champagne at 7 am. from the smell of our pilot he had been tippling all night. good thing i smelled him after the flight and not before!
now i'm in marmaris, on the southern coast. it's a gorgeous little town and i'm so happy i came. i only came for the ferry to rhodes tomorrow but now i'm quite liking the vibe here. there is just not enough time to enjoy properly this lovely country.

the adventures of tin tin in turkey!

there was much debate about where i should go this summer. originally it was going to be vietnam, laos, and cambodia but the monsoon and a good job put that on the back burner. i was on set on a wednesday asking the crew where they would go if they only had 2 weeks to travel. i was thinking maybe vanuatu but airfares dissuaded me from that destination and while i'm in that area i may as well see new caledonia as well and time just didn't permit that. so, after "i've been there" and "i need a visa for that", the production designer and traveler tossed out "turkey". lightbulbs went off, angels sang, unicorns peeped thru the looking glass! i had my destination! i booked it the next day and left 3 days later.

i arrived in istanbul half dead to a fantasic hostel (antique hostel in sultanahmet) and crashed and burned in my dorm bed. it was the upper bunk and i'm not so good with those so i nearly fell off a couple times during the night. if it wasn't for my "falling" dreams and the bloody cat outside with it's constant mewing i may have gotten some solid sleep. but the next morning the strong turkish coffee made up for the lack of sleep and i was off and running at the butt crack of dawn.

early morning is the best time to see any city and istanbul didn't fail me. i meandered around the still shut aya sofia and blue mosque as well as the waking winding streets. i wasn't 100% yet and kept stumbling over the cobblestones and tripping over an array of stray cats. if my mother wondered where all the cats in guatemala were, i can safely say thay have all boarded a turkish air flight and found their way to turkey. i love me some kitty but scabby scratchy cats are not my top pick.

soon the aya sofia opened it's doors and i was nearly the first in line. when i enetered the church/mosque/museum it was close to empty. the aya sofia is a massive empty space with lavishly decorated walls, windows and mosaics. the lighting is in the form of spare chandeliers which descend from the high cieling and hang low over the increasing crowd. it gives a gigantic bulding a sort of intimacy. upstairs in the mosque's women's gallery are the remnants of old gold mosaics depicting christ and various saints and patrons. it's a lovely building but didn't speak to me the way i thought it would.

the line for the blue mosque was long and the faithful were in long dress with head covered and the tourists were in shorts and tank tops. just a note, next time you descide to go to another country please be respectful of thier religion and customs. there were entirely too many people with american accents dressed like they are at disneyworld. the blue mosque is a place of worship, not epcot. i digress...

after taking off my shoes and covering my head (with my own scarf thank you very much) i entered paradise. when you step inside with bare feet, the carpet is a shock. it's a delicately patterned red silk carpet and it seems to melt a little with every step i take. and when i look up and around i see tiles of blue and white in designs i cannot imagine to create. it's a riot of fine taste, a melange of eye candy, a pool of cool water in a desert. the domes above and the silk below and the blanket of tile surrounding me almost make me want to convert. but then i would have to wear those long coats and headscarves that make all the women look like they're expecting an imminent downpour and lets face it, that's just not gonna happen. i don't want to leave, i want to curl up on the carpet and melt myself in the glory of this mosque. but crowds surround me and i've been here longer than most so i must leave and join the hordes of tourists now milling about the city.

the next day i take in topkapi palace and the gorgeous harem there. no amount of tile and gold will make me want to join the harem life but i could see the allure for women who really had no other choice of profession other than baby maker and servant. afterward i roam the city. it's massive and seems to go on forever. i cross bridges, smell nasty fish, eat baklava, smell nasty body odor, eat kebabs, sweat and smell badly myself, and eat meze. i must have walked about 10 miles at least and i crashed and burned that night. mewing cat or muezzin couldn't wake me from my brief death of sleep.

i have heard that the bosphorus cruise is great so i took the less (foriegn) touisty option, the ferry. i sat outside and watched the city turn from metropolis to posh neighborhood to normal. the water is clear blue and in some places when the wave of a passing boat rears up, it looks like gorgeous old seaglass. it's loud but at the same time peaceful and when we stop at the end right before the sea i clamber out of the boat and up a steep hill to a crumbling castle that guards the entrance to the strait. i'm sweating but the breeze dries my damp back and helps me descend the hill again.

istanbul is a cosmopolitan city, more european to the glance but as you look a bit longer, it becomes more eastern. the hospitality is warmer than europe but the men are more oppresive (if that's the right word). everyone asks "where are you from" but it's really just a way to get you talking so they can sell you something. having said that, when i asked for directions people are more than happy to help you every way they can. they will chase you down if they see you make a wrong turn and set you to rights again. it's a great place to start to see this beautiful country. i can't wait to see more...