A week in Istanbul

I'm beginning to get the hang of it around here. I found a new hostel to stay at that costs only $15/night (it's $20/night where I'm staying now). But most importantly, the new Hostel, the Harmony, has a kitchen for guest use. That makes a huge difference. I've managed to find a few small markets where I can buy fresh fruits and vegetables and yesterday I learned the location of a large market where I'll be able to find other things. I'm beginning to learn the secrets of traveling cheap. Transportation costs must be kept down, which means staying in one place for at least a week if not longer.

I've been in Istanbul a week and though my expenses are low, they can go lower. I completely avoid the tourist traps, where thousands of people queue up elbow to elbow and inch their way through. I did buy a couple of scarves (and Claudia brought me 3 books from Margot) so now my pack feels extraordinarily heavy. Hence, when the totally handsome, suave Turkish salesman comes up to me I'm now really strong when I say, "I don't buy anything I have to carry." When he says, "We can ship!" I simply tell him the truth: I don' t have a house to ship it to and I don't want to buy stuff just to put into my storage shed. It's as easy as that.

I love Istanbul. We'll see how long this love affair lasts. I'll be here two more nights then I'll move down to Capadoccia for 5 days. The young people I met when I first arrived (they're on a 37-day adventure tour, camping, etc, cheap, sounds way cool) will be camping near Capadoccia so I plan to meet up with them again and maybe spend a few nights camping out. Then I'll come back to Istanbul and will most likely stay here until at least the middle of May. I've decided that I'll probably only make 2-3 stops on my way to Switzerland: Bulgaria, where I plan to stay at the Rila Monastery, high in the Rila Mountains; Sarejevo, Croatia; and Montenegro. I'll take sleeper trains or buses between each of these places.

Today I'm heading out to the Belgrade Forest, a forested area 20 km north of Istanbul. I asked the guy at the desk here about it and he had never heard of it, he'd never been there, and thought it was a long way away. :o) Interesting. I only read about it in one travel guide but it sounds amazing. Locals go there for a day away from the city, but mostly on the weekend. Here's what my book says:
"The Belgrade Forest is the only sizeable piece of woodland in the imediate vicinity of Istanbul. The forest is made up of pines, oaks, beeches, chestnuts and poplars, beneath which a profusion of wild flowers grow in spring.. . . the park's [main] attractions are the relics of the dams, reservoirs and aqueducts use for over 1,000 years to transport spring water in to Istanbul.The oldest structure, Buyuk Bent (Great Reservoir), dates back to the early Byzantine era."

I expect to spend a day in relative peace and quiet, just as I found on Prince's Island, all free of course except for the cost of transportation - which is cheap, fast and easy. This is an exciting, beautiful city but I will totally enjoy a little forest walking. I haven't had much of that in the past year. So that's how it all goes. Love & Light to all.

Wow!

Good morning or afternoon or whatever it is wherever you are.

Two of my friends cancelled their trips. the other two are coming, but they're doing guided pre-packaged tours so i won't see much of them.

I'm going to plan my itinerary somewhat around theirs but they move around a lot and that gets expensive. I'm trying hard not to spend too much money. I'm keeping track of all my expenses now that I'm on the road. I'm spending more than I want to. Each day I think, okay, today will be a cheap day then something turns up. I've settled into Istanbul at a hostel which charges $17/day and will be here for 4 more days so hopefully I can keep things down. [Note: I later found the Harmony Hostel, less expensive, great atmosphere, two meals a day included. My orignal plan was to move about a lot but now I've decided to limit my moves to no less than every three days. There are sooo many places to spend money here and it's all soooo inviting. The food here is outrageously delicious and there are restaurants and food carts about every 10 feet. Ah, you can't imagine - breads and pastries and ice cream and salads and it's all laid out so beautifully, so artistically. Every restaurant has a window full of amazing foods, cooks working, etc. The hawkers are the best in the world. They're not aggressive but very very nice, very handsome and it's hard to ignore their niceness. :o) Really nice people. honestly nice. If you're not interested in what they're selling they ease up and instead will invite you to share a cup of Turkish tea and a chat (as one carpet seller did yesterday) or give you a sample or give you directions or even walk you to your doorstep. I was even approached by a male prostitute. Imagine that?!?!

I had an amazingly wonderful day yesterday just wandering around in a daze. I've decided if you spent your entire life shopping in Istanbul you'd never be able to visit all the shops here. Everything glitters and shines and invites you in every way possible. A bright, lively beautiful city. I tried the hooka yesterday. Yum, yum. The smoke is so delicious. It's not tobacco, it's some mixture of dried fruits and grass, just plain green grass from the ground. People smoke them all over the place and now I know their appeal. It's like eating but not. Today perhaps I'll take a ferry ride up the Bosphorus if the weather is nice. Yesterday was a bit cool and overcast but the sky cleared in the afternoon. If I don't do a ride then I'll just walk around in a delightful daze again. I'm fine with that.

Batumi

The sun has come out and Batumi is looking up. It feels more "normal" to me now. It wasn't quite what I expected but nothing ever is, is it? I always forget that this is the Caucasus, not the old USofA. It's nice out now with people out and about, the sun shining, etc. I just had khachapuri at Tserodena, a bright little restaurant near the main park by the sea. Oh my, not good food for the gall bladder, that's for sure. Heavy duty butter, bread, cheese, salt. I think it was good - I ate it all :o) - but I'm not sure it's going to sit well with me.

I got my bus ticket for Istanbul, will leave here tomorrow at 10:30am and arrive in Istanbul at 8am the next day (Wednesday). They'll provide me a free shuttle to my hostel, which is nice and will certainly save me a hassle.

Next stop today is the Adjara art museum, a collection of Georgian artists as well as works by European and Russian painters from the 19th & 20th century. Should be interesting.

A bit on the history of Batumi from the Lonely Planet guide:
"Batumi developed in the late 19th century as the western terminus of a railway from Baku that then carried 1/5 of the world's oil production. A pipeline and refinery built by Ludwig Nobel, brother of the Swedish dynamite inventor Alfred, woon followed. Batumi gained free-port status, over 20 foreign consulates set up here, and the town developed into a fashionable resort at the southern tip of the Russian empire and a crossroads between Europe and Asia.
"One of the first decisions of the post-Abashidze administration in 2004 was to make Batumi an attractive place to visit, something in which they are, happily, succeeding. Charming old buildings have been restored, renovated and floodlit, attractive new ones are joining them, and strolling around the leafy, low-rise central streets is a real pleasure."

That's all for now. Time to go take some photos and get some culture followed by a little sun and fresh air. I will sit by the Black Sea for awhile this afternoon and soak up that delicious sound of waves against the shore.

Trains, Taxis, and Sulphur Baths

17 April 2010, Saturday

We've just returned to our hotel in Tbilisi, the Hotel Boni otherwise known as the Hotel Charm or Sharm. Don't ask. I have no answer. Anyway, it's really a lovely old house but aargh this whole trip has been a lesson to me in how to travel.

First, the train ride. We bought our tickets in Gyumri. There are 4 levels of tickets: bench seats, open sleepers (no doors), 4-berth sleepers and 2-bed sleepers. The prices range from $7-$25. We wanted the 4-berth sleepers but instead were sold the tickets for the open sleepers. The ticket seller told us not to worry, the conductor would upgrade us on the train. I didn't understand this – why not just go ahead and sell us the ticket now? - but all would eventually become clear. It's “the system.” At any rate, I can't even describe the scene in the open sleepers. The train was very crowded and as we passed through the sleepers it smelled strongly of sleeping people in need of baths. As it turns out, if you buy a lower priced ticket they'll upgrade you for less when you get on the train. In other words, you get a better seat for less, and the train employees get a little extra cash in their pockets as the extra that you pay is “off the books.” So we ended up paying more than I had wanted to pay ($12) but we got the $25 2-bed berth for $18. It really was a pleasant experience, very clean and private and quiet.

An old tram car which has been restored into a sitting place in town

The hotel we had chosen in Tbilisi wanted $75 for a double room. Are there any off-season rates, we asked? Yes, he could let us have it for $65. What about a room with shared bathroom? Well, yes, as a matter of fact there's one available: $50. Too much, I said to Judy. Let's go. Okay, well maybe they could let us have it for $40. I agreed and we settled in. It's a pretty hotel, lots of 19th century Georgian antiques decorate it. We're on the 3^rd floor, an attic room with twin beds.

Today was wonderful, warm and sunny, a delight after all the rain we've had the past week. We walked and walked and walked. Our first foray was to the Dry Bridge Market. Oh my, I wanted to buy everything but of course bought nothing, knowing how much I've just given away, how heavy my pack still is, and how quickly it can become completely unmanageable. But it was fun to look at all the art and knick-knacks and dishes and paraphernalia of a foreign culture. After that we wandered down to Old Town, stopping along the way to buy some street food: apples, a chicken wrap, cheese khachapuri. We taxied up to the Narikala fortress, viewed the city then walked down. I wantied to visit the sulphur baths but Judy begged off, pleading with me to allow her to wait in the lovely gardens surrounding the baths. This was fine, but for me - my feet were sore and a nice soak in hot mineral waters sounded like just the medicine.

I was expecting, you know, an American experience, Georgia style. Oh, I knew it would be different, but . . . . not that different. I paid my 2 lari ($1.20) and entered the public baths – women only. As I walked through the first anteroom I found it odd to see 3-4 people sitting at a table and eating in the humidity and sulphur smell, but . . . this is a new experience right? I can handle this. I had already been forewarned about this unusual feature of the baths, so it didn't shock me too much. I passed through two more small rooms – again, a few women and children sitting at a table in each room, drinking coffee and eating, the last room actually in the changing area.

Now is when it gets surreal. For the most part – well, actually, totally – there were a lot very fat heavy-breasted older women in there, and it was very crowded, butt to thigh on the benches. I took a deep breath, thought, “Okay, I can handle this,” and opened the door into the next room – the bathing room – to see what awaited me. There I saw a scene from Dante's 7^th circle of Hell. The women were completely nude, no shy hiding behind towels in here. They weren't soaking in a pool as I expected, but rather were gathered along a trough-like arrangement around the room, pouring water over themselves. The scene was a bit overwhelming. “Okay,” I thought, “I can handle this.” I stepped back into the dressing area and tried to find a seat on the bench with an available locker. All the lockers had locks on them so I asked the young assistant (who was dressed and sitting in the other room drinking coffee) for a lock and an available locker. This seemed to irritate her no end. Nevertheless she complied. I squeezed myself between two sets of heavy thighs and began to untie my shoes. Unfortunately, the locker that I had been given was apparently already in use. A large naked woman was standing menacingly in front of me and pointing to the locker behind me. I was beginning to get slightly nauseous. I'm not used to seeing so much exposed adipose tissue in such a small space. I don't even really like to look at myself in the mirror anymore. Honestly, this whole scene was becoming unbearable.

I walked back out to the young bath assistant and told her that the locker she gave me was already in use, whereupon she began to screech. I guess it's not okay to mention that the locker is already in use by someone else. I figured it was just too much trouble for her to handle in one day. It was also too much for me to handle so I just said, “F*** it” and walked out into the glorious sunshine where people were strolling around with their clothes on.

Sunday, 18 April 2010

I take off on my own into the wild unknown, leaving Judy to spend a day with an Armenian friend. From this day forward I'm truly on my own. I walk from the hotel Boni to Tavasuplebis Moedani (a big traffic round-about) and get on the Metro to the train station. My first goal for the day is Uplistsikhe, a 3,500-year-old cave city just an hour's drive north of Tbilisi. After going up and down several flights of stairs and stopping at two wrong ticket booths I end up at a bus terminal of sorts, or at least a bus parking area, where I'm told that the bus to Uplistsikhe is further along still, at another bus terminal. This bus terminal is for Gori. Okay. Gori will do. It's in the same general direction. I climb aboard.

Upon reaching Gori I'm dropped off on the highway near a taxi stand and must take a taxi to Gori, where I”m hopeful I can find a microbus to Uplistsikhe. I tell the taxi driver what I need and he talks me into letting him take me there. Not cheap, and one of my cardinal rules for saving money is “Don't ever take a taxi!” However, as it turns out in the end, it is expensive but given that I'm carrying a heavy pack, I don't know where I'm going and I've got a lot on my agenda for the day it, it turns out to be the right choice. We hustle through Gori. The taxi driver points out the statue of Stalin – which looks exactly like the statue of some other great Georgian in Tbilisi – a lion of a man, towering over the square in front of the government buildings. I liked the interesting architecture and colors of the buildings. Unlike Armenia, where the Russian-style apartment buildings are all uniformly colored gray or tan, here they have painted many of them bright greens and blues and assorted other colors, and have put decent little porches on each apartment.

Uplistsikhe is very interesting. They say there were upwards of 20,000 people living here at one time. It lasted as a cave city from 1,500bc until 1,500ad when the Mongols attacked. It was at that time that the surrounding forests were destroyed, burned either for fun or warmth. This is the story the guide tells. I think it's also possible that the 20,000 people living there could have gradually used up all the wood themselves. At any rate, everywhere I've been in Georgia has been heavily forested but around here it is barren.

After my little tour of Uplistsikhe, the taxi driver hustles me back to town and manages to get me onto a minibus to Kutaisi/Batumi that is just pulling away from the stop. Probably the last of the day, and most certainly the last minibus I would be willing to take all the way to Batumi – a 6-hour drive. My goal is a night in Kutaisi but as we drive the weather becomes increasingly wet and cold. By the time we reach Kutaisi it's bordering on miserable and I decide I don't want to do the hassle of finding a place to stay in the rain, only to spend ½ day there as I will move on to Batumi the next day anyway. Kutaisi is Georgia's 2^nd largest city and I know there are some interesting sights there. But I opt to stay two nights in Batumi instead and tell the driver not to stop.

Later. I'm now in Batumi. People on the bus were so wonderfully sweet and helpful. We stopped to eat along the way and of course I could not order anything when they asked me what I wanted. Finally I remembered one food – hingali – which happens to be their mother food and they love you for loving it. The woman behind the counter says, sorry, we're out but the cook says, no, I can make it. So she made me up a big batch special.

We reached Batumi in the rain and everyone wanted to help me find my place for the night – helping me to find which bus I should take, etc. Ultimately the microbus driver just drove me to my lodging and dropped me off. I would never have found it on my own, in the rain, at night, not to mention that when I approached the high iron fence with the big “24” on it, a massive german shepherd attacked the fence. I rang the buzzer and jumped back. A man appeared from around a corner and motioned me in through a separate driveway. Perhaps this might not be the best area of town to wander around after dark, but who can say.

My homestay in Batumi

The house is nice, the owners friendly, their 20-something daughter enjoys meeting travelers and having an opportunity to speak English. The graciousness of the Armenians is similarly repeated here and I am motioned to sit, drink coffee, and eat some cookies and chocolates. Georgians look similar to Armenians – dark complected, but the nose is not as strongly defined and the eyes are generally rounder.

Interesting architecture

Today I will explore Batumi. Hopefully the weather will clear. The sky is gray. There is a volcano going off in Iceland right now which has closed most of the European airports and grounded all flights in and out. Apparently it started on Thursday but I only learned of it Saturday night and all my information is second-hand. I'm anxious to find an internet cafe and find out what's happening.

Where do I buy my ticket to Tbilisi?

I'm preparing to leave Armenia. Feeling a bit scared and excited. It's a strange feeling to head off to new places with different customs, different languages, different everything. Except of course the human beings living there, who are generally the same the world 'round - usually kind. To illustrate . . . Yesterday I went to find the train station here to see exactly how much the tickets to Tbilisi cost and when the train leaves. I came to a big building with a cutout of a train over the door which was in about the right location so I, of course, assumed that must be the train station.

I walked in and entered a wide, open hallway with people moving about. Looked like a train station to me. An elderly man approached and asked me a question. I nodded "no." That must have been the right response because he seemed satisfied and allowed me to enter. I tried my lousy Armenian on him. He looked a bit baffled but directed me to the left, where 20 or so women were crowded into a room, pushing and shoving each other around. I assumed they must be trying to buy tickets so I went on in.

But no, it was some sort of second-hand clothes give-away and the women were just digging through boxes and tables covered with clothes. I considered joining in but decided I had enough clothes already. So I shoved my way back out into the hall and once again tried to ask the kind old gentleman where I could buy a train ticket to Tbilisi. He again looked at me as if I were speaking a strange foreign language ("This is Armenian I'm speaking, man. Why can't you understand me?") He motioned to the cleaning woman, who came over and also tried to interpret my needs. She then asked me to follow her down the hall where I could see a few doors standing ajar. "Aha," I thought. "Now we're getting somewhere." We reached an open doorway and she pointed in with a questioning look. I poked my head around and saw a toilet.

"Che," I said and shook my head. "Tomes, eentz petkay tomes Gyumri-eetz Tbilisi." I need a ticket from Gyumri to Tbilisi. Now, isn't that perfectly clear? Indeed! We hustled back to the entrance and she pointed further down the street to a large building at the end of a cul-de-sac. "Schnorhakalootyun, shot schnorhakalootyun." Oh, thank you, thank you very much.

A few more friendly meetings along the way to the station, strangers stopping me and asking me Goddess knows what and me answering them and neither of us understanding anything but no matter. We'd finally simply shrug our shoulders at each other, smile, wave and continue on our way. I reached the station, found the ticket booth and a kindly lady sitting inside the booth babbled away at me and pointed to a timetable which indicated price and times, all in familiar numbers which I recognized. Thank Heavens. So, see, it's not so difficult. :o)

Life in Armenia

I think some great musician of our time said it well . . . . "What a long, strange trip it's been." Watched a film last night about the Armenian genocide, "Ararat." I look out the window at the remains of a once elegant city, once rich with arts and artisan, now 22 years since an earthquake devastated it and left 50,000 dead in the region. I visited the remains of a 1,000-year-old church a few days ago. Those ruins are "scenic"; the more recent ruins outside the window are not. Such suffering, such a terrible scar on the Armenian soul to carry forward. And here they are still, stuck in the remnants of the homeland they love dearly and can't get away from.

The father from the host family I stayed with last summer in Arzakan (and just visited a week ago) stopped by (well, stopped by is stretching it - he lives 3 hours away) a few nights ago at 11pm to remind me to please let PC know that they are a great host family and that they'd really like to be a host family again this coming summer. They make $300/month for that, $750 for the summer. They are so desperate. I like them very much and it so hurt to see the desperation in his eyes. His wife, Gayane, is a teacher, makes $200/month, has begun having migraines daily. He works for the forestry whatever, but his work is spotty. His 62-year-old mother gets a pension of $60/month and has a huge growth on her abdomen which they can't afford to have removed. They have a nice, big house and a great garden that feeds them, as well as a cow, a horse and chickens. They have one daughter who graduated from high school last year with honors but they can't afford to send her to college (where hopefully she'd find a husband). They have another daughter who will graduate next year and a 12-year-old son. And that's the life they live. So difficult . . . .

A Rainy Saturday in Gyumri

I'm still in Gyumri, Armenia, visiting other volunteers, waiting for the weather to clear and enjoying the culture of this area. Gyumri is the 2nd largest city in Armenia. It was once a center for the arts and the architecture here is lovely. What is left of it that is. It was hit badly by the earthquake in 1988 and still is in a state of chaos. But what is left leads one to know that this was quite an elegant city once upon a time. 50,000 people in the region were killed in the earthquake, many left the area afterwards, and many more left when the Soviet Union collapsed. Yesterday we visited Marmashen, a beautful 1,000-year-old monastery on the outskirts of town.

Marmashen. Being here was a very moving experience.

Marmashen

Judy lighting candles inside the Marmashen Monastery

These old churches and monasteries are not active in the sense that we're familiar with in the US. The structure of their religion was broken during Soviet times. But the Spirit remains very much alive in individual hearts. People go to this places alone or in large family groups to ask for help, to pray, to offer thanks. They light candles and leave small icons. These are places of pilgrimage, not tourist attractions. The stones feel infused with 1,000 years of prayer. There is often a picnic area nearby where they can prepare horovats (like shish-kebob). This is a common practice at cemetaries also. It seems a good gathering place, actually, once I overcome the initial and instinctive reaction of my own cultural traditions.

We also visited an "art hotel" and an art museum in town.

The Gardens behind the Two Sisters Art Museum

Then we went for a walk around town.

A building destroyed by the 1988 earthquake

And there is also the human spirit, creating beauty out of the ashes . . . .

A building in the process of restoration

It's quite cold and rainy right now, off and on. Rain bordering on slush sometimes. The surrounding mountains are covered with snow - again. The very mountains I must pass through as I travel through Georgia - the lesser Caucasus they are called. The route from here to my next stop is around 100 miles and takes the marshrutka "5-10 hours". That's quite a span of time, which says that the road can be worse than awful. I'm sure the rain won't help. My intention is to leave Monday but the weather forecast isn't favorable until Wednesday so we'll see. Not much fun to visit old monasteries and fortresses, slogging through mud and freezing rain.

The internet connection is slow and sometimes not available.

11 April 2010, Sunday

Vahan Topchyan

Looks like I'll be in Gyumri for a while longer. It's still rainy and cold and the roads are bad. I won't be able to make the trip through Georgia that I had hoped to make. But Gyumri's not a nice place and I'm enjoying my stay here. I have Peace Corps friends here, a lovely apartment to stay in (Judy's home) and it's a nice little city. I arrived here Friday. We hung about the house, avoiding the rain, and Judy cooked a wonderful meal for us. We did go to the big hotel here. It started out as a polyclinic, but morphed into a hotel and polyclinic. The hotel now helps to support the clinic.In addition, the hotel displays the work of local artists throughout the lobby and in the rooms. Each room features a different artist. Very unique. I fell in love with the art of Vahan Topchyan. Gyumri was once a center for the arts and it still retains some of that spirit, in spite of the earthquake devastation 22 years ago. The buildings have character. A lot of stone and only a little wood. The stone work around the country is varied and interesting, and here in Gyumri even more so as there's a variety in the buildings that you don't see elsewhere. After touring the hotel we walked over to the food market and picked up a few items. It was cold and rainy so we hustled along back home. Salads salads salads! I've had lots of green food these past few days. Wonderful. Saturday morning the sky was blue and the sun was shining. It was still cool outside but in the sun it felt good. We got a taxi and headed toward Marmashen, on the outskirts of Gyumri.

“The monastery at Marmashen is about 10km northwest of Gyumri, just past the village of the same name in the wide gorge of the Akhuryan River. There are three churches hewn from lovely apricot-colored tuff clustered together next to an orchard, plus the ruins and foundations of other structures nearby. The biggest church, Surp Stepanos, was built between 988 and 1029, with a 13^th-century gavit(forehall). An Italian team led restoration work in the 1960s, so intricately carved old church stones have been incorporated into newer building blocks. Beautiful carved tombs and khatchkars dot the land around the churches, and it's a peaceful, rural environment typical of Shirak, with grassy horizons. The caretaker is here 8am to 8pm daily, and he can recite some of the inscriptions on the sides of the churches by heart.” (Lonely Planet)

It was a lovely and moving experience. The restoration work was beautifully done and the old stones retain the love and prayers of 1,000 years of people who have passed through there.

After the monastery trip we visited another art gallery here, the Two Sisters Gallery or perhaps more accurately the Aslamazyan Gallery. The art of Miryam and Eranim Aslamazyan are primarily displayed here though at different times there are art shows with different artists displayed.Very nice. A lovely day. Then home to again eat a great meal, cooked by Judy. Pasta noodles with parmesan cheese and spinach along with a nice tossed salad.

Today, Sunday, we awoke to gray sky and dreary drizzle. So we're hanging about the apartment, catching up on writing and emailing. Though now, at noon, a little blue sky and sunshine is beginning to appear. Perhaps we'll head to the market soon for fresh veggies for a stir-fry tonight. Maybe Barbara and Stacie will join us for dinner. So, I'm stuck in Gyumri. But I can think of a lot worse places to be stuck – for instance, in a marshrutka on a muddy pot-holed road in southwestern Georgia. :o)