still anchored in Melbourne

It's a late Tuesday afternoon and I'm still in Melbourne.

Despite my stubborn optimism for getting on with some fruit picking work I'd be lying if I didn't admit relief at not having to do hard physical labour in 44c heat.

Basically, I'd found out via another backpacker that there was absolutely no work in the Mildura area, all the way down to Melbourne. Now I'm going to be staying in this Melbourne hostel until mid-way through December, when I will be heading over to Sydney.

The idea is that I'll find a non-skilled, easy job for a few weeks (dishwasher, office cleaner, that kind of thing) then take a bus to Sydney. After my Xmas and New Year's celebrations I'll probably look for a cushy office job and stick at that for a few months to top up the old bank account before getting on my way.

It's worth mentioning that I could get pretty much the same job I had at home for more than twice the pay; the economy here seems to be going very well. I've not even heard the words 'credit' or 'crunch' in months!

So I've been in this hostel for almost two weeks now and in Melbourne for maybe a week more than that. The days are tending to merge into one another - whether this is due to the cheap quantities of wine, who's to say (cheap wine is called 'goon' apparently, not sure if it's just Australians who call it this though).

It's a fun, laid-back crowd here. The hostel itself is pretty inconspicuous, leaning towards the suburban edges of town. It's still a stone's throw away from cheap food places, launderettes, and most important of all - a big, cheap Woolworths supermarket. The hostel has the same vibe that has come to appeal to me; namely more of an emphasis on meeting new people, rather than large groups keeping to themselves. There's a decent kitchen, lounge area and a pretty sturdy BBQ in the back courtyard which has been put to good use. There's also a big TV with a large selection of pirate DVDs to peruse at your leisure.

Most who stay here are long-termers; staying for months on end while having a job through the week. There's a large portion of people who know varying amounts of guitar aswell as different abilities of chess players. I have to say, though, I strum better than I play chess, though I'm eager to learn.
I'm even teaching one french guy to play guitar. Quite a funny experience. I've started him off on 'Smoke on the Water' and the theme from Pulp Fiction.

There's a healthy mix of nationalities here, unlike the place in Sydney for example, that had predominantly Australian residents.

Moving on.. I have my bank account and Tax File Number sorted (though there's still something of a hurdle to get over to get money from my English accounts to my Australian one - I guess it's reassuring these precautions are in place). All I need to do now is find myself that easy job! Anyway... not much exciting news to mention as of late. I'm beginning to shift my focus from sightseeing to work for a few months into the New Year.

Time to shoot off, I think fish fingers are on the menu today. Makes a change from pasta and jarred sauce anyway...

G'day, how you goin'?

Turkey was immensely enjoyable. I loved the people, the landscapes, the culture and the food. I will treasure my time there for years to come. Though I was there for just over 3 weeks, I could easily spend another few months, as there was so much more to do and see that I barely touched on. So, rather than feeling like I’ve seen enough of Turkey, I feel just like I was at the beginning of my discovery.

From the apricot centre of Malatya, to the sweeping horizons of Mardin. From Adana to Ankara, Istanbul to Erzurum. Each town or city had its own identity and felt completely unique. Finding a favourite amongst these would be nigh on impossible.

I tried a Hamam at long last in Adana. It was a really enjoyable, thoroughly relaxing experience. I came away feeling completely refreshed with skin feeling tighter. The building itself was typical of the Hamam design. Several domes could be seen from outside, with several tiny, spherical glass windows, which presumably helped heat up the chambers. The walls inside were all white, and the seating was, as with the rest of the interior, made of an opaque-white marble. 

 

Each dome was a different chamber or room. There was the main entrance leading into a room with a huge vat of presumably cold water, then the main chamber, which had more sections surrounding it. In the centre of the main room was a large raised, circular platform where you laid on your back facing the ceiling, feet pointing outwards. On the perimeter of the chamber were several wash bowls, also made of a solid piece of marble, above which were two stylised taps. After you had relaxed yourself and lost half your weight in sweat you washed yourself in these basins, with a plastic bowl.

Australia

My flights started from Istanbul, stopping in Singapore for 4ish hours, then heading on to Sydney.

The flights themselves (my first in maybe 7 or 8 years) weren’t so bad. I had no idea how cramped economy seats could be though! Barely enough room to stretch my legs out on either plane. In comparison trains and most of the buses I’ve been on have a luxurious amount of space. I was impressed by the inflight meals though, and getting free beer on any trip certainly boosts points that little bit higher. Perhaps it’s a different story on the more budget airlines. I used Qantas and Turkish Airlines.

Though I barely slept on either flight (too much entertainment available in the headrests infront) I did catch a few glimpses of a stunning sunrise as we were coming in to land at 5.30am. It was unlittered by buildings, spread out above a vast quilt of cloud. Then I got my first look at the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge which had me grinning with the gradual realisation that I was indeed in Australia.

Once I’d given myself a day or so to recover from the jetlag I really started to enjoy Sydney. My early thoughts, as I was wandering around sluggish and travel-worn, were that the city looked as I’d imagine a big American city would look. With the wide roads, endless skyscrapers that teased the clouds with their height and colourful, brightly lit advertisements. This was certainly an incomparably different place to Turkey - and that was just the beginning.

From the Sydney airport my first priority was to find a place to lay my head down for a few hours.

After I’d taken some cash out from the Airport cashpoint and armed myself with a map containing locations of a bunch of hostels, I took the Airport Link underground train to the centre. Once there, it took longer that I would normally take to decide on a hostel, but I was tired and confused so kept walking in circles for some reason. All part of the fun.

I finally settled on a place named ‘790 on George’ (as in George Street) and paid some AU$80 or so for a three-day stay . I really like the Australian Dollars... they come in bright colours, have a plastic see-through window and are apparently ‘surf-proof’. There’s also a familiar face on the back of the coins and on the $5 notes! 

 

The hostel had 7 floors and a seemingly endless stream of people going in and out. There seemed to be a large proportion of Australians staying there, which when I thought about it made sense, given the size of the country. The other nationalities you are likely to bump into are (in no particular order) English, Irish, Japanese, Malaysian, Chinese and a maybe the odd New Zealander (even though I can’t tell their accents apart yet). I also got talking to a Turkish guy who noticed I was using a Migros (Turkish supermarket) bag.  

Once I’d paid and got a handful of bedding I took the lift to my dorm room on the 6th floor. Once there I lay down, shut my eyes and promptly passed out for 7 hours, from 9am to 3pm. When I woke up and checked my watch I was surprised at how much time had gone by, while still feeling immeasurably knackered and like I’d been run over.

I decided to go for a walk and get some air. I even managed to gather my thoughts enough to buy some socks from a little army surplus store - to replace the one's revealing big toe. After I’d eaten and wandered around a bit more I spent the evening doing a whole lot of not very much. 

On the third day I was feeling more awake and the jetlag had all but disappeared. I walked across the Harbour Bridge and took some pictures just as it was getting dark. I’d ended up in a residential area, facing the Opera House and the distant skyscrapers – a great sight as night drew in and everything was lit up. 

 

 

So after three brief days in Sydney I decided to make my way down south...

I went to the train station after I'd checked out of the hostel and hoped to do my tried and tested method of looking at the departures board and going somewhere that sounded cool. On this occasion, there were works going on on the New South Wales lines, so this wasn't going to be how it was.

The gent behind the counter pointed me towards the bus ticket office the floor below and there I purchased a ticket that was valid for 3 months, for as many stops as I'd like between Sydney and Melbourne. The price seemed right so I went for it. It turned out to be perfect timing aswell, as just as I was waiting for my bus, it began pounding with rain outside, bringing the stint of amazing weather to an abrupt end.

I made just two stops along the way, mainly because I was getting tired of actual COLD weather (in Australia?!). I stopped in the town of Nowra, which turned out to be quite quiet and mediocre. Essentially a typical suburban town with a few rows of shops and some small restaurants. I ended up spending the night (the most expensive night I've spent anywhere I have to point out!) in a cosy 3-star bed and breakfast calling itself the White House. It was an incredibly comfortable place, furnished in a traditional style with big old-fashioned furniture and creaky floorboards. It cost me $99 for one night. 

My other stop was the more upbeat and picturesque Eden. This place, being bang on the coast had the benefit of a couple of beaches, though still incredibly cold due to winds from the sea. I stayed for two nights in a dorm above a pub, of which I was the only occupant. During the day I walked along the beach and it was good to breath in the fresh air and read amongst the shelter of some rocks.  

From Eden I headed straight onto Melbourne, where I have been for maybe 12 days. I will stay here until the 8th November, waiting on a bank card and a Tax File Number (which I will be needing when I start earning) before heading slightly north. I'm enjoying Melbourne and slowly adapting to the Aussie lifestyle, which includes good beer, kangaroo steaks, amazing weather (mostly) and more of a laid-back attitude to life. 

In other news, I've booked 28 days in Sydney from the 15th December until the 11th of January 2010. The cost - $915.00.

Speeding through Georgia and a few thoughts on Australia!

Okay, I'll admit, I've been putting off the blog a bit here and there (again?!) so I'll trying getting upto speed again. In all honesty I've been having a bit of writer's block recently - everything feels a bit samey once I get it down. I need to leave my comfort zone and get some inspiration methinks!

Anyway, today being the 17th, all going to plan I should be beginning my long journey towards Australia in 2 and a bit days (!!!!). Barely thought about it at all until now...

The vague plan (the only way I know) is to stay in Sydney for a week or so, get acclimatised, organised and then maybe dive straight into the fields. Or, I could spend a couple of months sightseeing before Christmas, then get to work in the new year.

I've been hearing about Wwoofing (its an organisation consisting of a network of organic fruit farms across Australia) which could be a good beginning step. It only costs a few dollars to sign up, and generally includes board. The downside to that is, you don't earn anything. I mean, I'm not looking to make that my priority, but it'd be handy to have a small income to supplement beer and maybe some food. With Wwoofing, you work for 6 hours a day (half a day) in exchange for a full day's board - all seems pretty reasonable.

Onto the recap then...

Georgia is a beautiful country. Having heard this and that about areas of conflict and kidnapping, I was sure to check up on the FCO website. Sure enough there were areas to avoid - namely the South Ossetia and Abkhazia regions.

I pounded my way through Tiblissi, Gori, Khashuri, Kutaisi and Batumi.

There was a very rugged, edgy feel for the most part, even the big capital city of Tiblissi (Tiflis to the locals) felt a bit more behind the times than other cities. It’s hard to put my finger on what the main differences are with Turkey.

I suppose the first one that’s noticeable is that there are no longer mosques in every village and town, but churches. People here are still religious though; examples being on the numerous taxi and bus rides where the driver would often draw a cross in front of himself just as the trip was beginning.

That brings me to the driving in Georgia. This blows most places out of the water in the extreme madness of it. Think people overtaking five cars at a time on a blind corner on what would be a motorway, running red lights, and turning four-lane traffic into 6 and 7, when a space presents itself. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy these journeys though. We’d all be bumping along in Ford Transits that were pushed to their absolute limit.

Driving here seemed more like a game. Whenever we got overtaken ourselves, our driver would make it his goal to overtake the other guy again. Sometimes this would go on for most of the journey and sitting above the axel was not advised.

Tiblissi

Georgia's capital city. I was only here for a few hours. I arrived when it was dark, connecting from bus to bus to taxi to foot.

At night the city wasn’t really pedestrian-friendly with large areas unlit and it was very easy to get lost. From the Ford Transit minibus I was dropped off in the centre and was handed over to a ‘gypsy’ taxi driver, who, through one of the other passengers on the minibus, said he could take me to a cheap hotel for 10GL.

The guy was pretty helpful even though his smile made sunflowers wilt. He’d drive around for ages, find a hotel, take me to the desk and ask them if they had room and at what price. If they were full, he’d take me to the next one, and so on. Every now and again we'd attempt a conversation, trying to overcome the language barrier, but I was somewhat concerned with keeping the guy's attention on the road.

After a bit of circling back and forth around the city, we (he) found a reasonable hotel. It was on a street lit up with casinos, which seem to be quite a big thing in Georgia. One day I'll have to try one...

I was pretty exhausted by this point, so I wasn’t on much that evening. I found a little place to eat, had a bowlful of something looking vaguely healthy and got some cheap ‘David Hard Drink’ Georgian Brandy – a pint for around about 3€. Before heading down the dusty road and armed with a tattered sheet of notepaper, with phonetic phrases I'd jotted down the day before, I practiced a little Georgian on the hotel staff.

Gori

I wasn’t in the mood for a big city, so I set about leaving Tiblissi and heading towards Gori the next morning.

I found myself a taxi and then the game of communication began. It took a doodle, embarrassing train noises, speaking to a friend on the driver's phone and a dude at a petrol station to ascertain that I wanted to get to the train station. It was all pretty hilarious and was a good start to the day.

Once at the train station, which looked broken and barely used, I realised that I'd be in another minibus or two that day. Sure enough, this was the case, but it has to be said that the scenery was beautiful on these journeys. Also, because of the relatively small size and nippiness of the Transits, we would go off the beaten track quite a bit, sometimes dropping farmers off at their fields, up and down winding lanes.

Before the Transit set off I browsed the markets in the area surrounding the train and bus stations.

Rows of fruit, clothes, books, nick nacks and interesting looking (and smelling) pastry snacks. I had a heavy pastry, slightly bigger than a Cornish pasty filled with crushed kidney beans (I think) that I could only just finish it was so filling. It must've cost about 1,50 Georgian Lari, somewhere in the region of 40p. I'd bought it from one of the little bakeries that are typical of Georgia - you get served from a tiny, almost cashpoint-sized window, which you could look through to a small kitchen where two ladies were tolling away and churning out pastry after pastry. The smells from these kiosks made you forget what else you were doing.

I also tried some brown drink, tasting vaguely like a mix between Guinness and Dr. Pepper, though less sweet and flat. Very refreshing.

Once I arrived in Gori it was chucking it down, so I thought on the spur of the moment I'd just jump in another bus rather than fight the rain trying to find a hotel.

Kutaisi

I arrived in this town after a brief stop in Khashuri, which had no hotels. I liked the feel of the place so decided it was worth spending a night or two.

In one of the hotels, I ended up getting very drunk with one of the owners. It was early evening, maybe 7pm, and I headed out to get something to eat, found almost everything nearby shut, except a little bakery where I got a tasty lump of doughy goodness.

When I returned to the hotel I offered the old guy some of my food as it was quite big anyway. He declined, but instead introduced a bottle of whiskey to the table, then homebrewed grappa, (or could've been vodka... verrrry strong!) we were clinking glasses for a good few hours. The Grappa (or whatever was) was so bitter it had to be chased by some homemade red wine, which still had remnants of grape left in it.

We communicated (or tried to) using something almost like sign language only much less sophisticated and used the dial of the cordless phone to enquire on ages. He was 55 - maybe trying to teach this whipper snapper how to drink! When neither of us could drink anymore we called it a night and we nodded to each other, shook hands and I clambered back up the stairs.

The next day I was feeling very fragile, which was a shame because I had a fresh Georgian breakfast cooked as soon as I slid out of bed. My friend from last night was nowhere to be seen though, so I imagine he was still out for the count.

Breakfast was a nice thick omellete(sp) followed by two huge pastries containing feta, potato and some other magic ingredient. All that washed down with as much coffee I could drink. Then I wandered down to the Otogar and spent what seemed like a lifetime getting to Batumi.

Before the journey had even started I was reintroduced to last night's celebrations - so handy that I had a plastic bag on me! That trip was not fun at all, I felt terrible throughout, feeling each turn and bump in the road.

Batumi

Batumi was another lazy city for me, as in I was not upto much when I was there, mainly due to my ringing head.

The bus let us out near the port and I went towards all the shops and before long found a small hotel round a corner and through a small arch. Think I paid 20GL for one night.
I parked my bag in the corner, poured a litre of water down my neck and laid down for a few hours.

Later on, feeling a bit brighter, I went out in search of a traditional Georgian meal. I walked a bit until there were less shops on the streets and it was generally quieter then I found a place that looked ok, with original wooden beams and medieval seating.

From the off I got the impression the woman in charge didn't have much time for me. For a start she had to run around for ages to find the one menu that had English in it, as if it was my fault they'd lost it. Then when I didn't take half a second to make my order she started tapping her foot and giving me odd non-smiling looks. Of course, I wasn't going to rush, I took my time.

I ordered veal and potatoes (maybe Georgian, I don't know, they couldn't tell me what was typical Georgian cuisine) and a beer. All in all it was good enough, but they must've kept me waiting for 45 minutes or so, didn't offer me another beer or a dessert and gave me the bill before I'd even finished my meal. The sour-faced waitress was just the icing on the cake.

After the disappointing meal I wandered around Batumi in the dark, taking one or two pictures of the impressively lit up blue church.

I called it an early night and watched some film called 'Bone Dry' - I could tell it was shit, even without hearing the dialogue. I spread out in the huge double bed and drifted off without much effort.

Then I'm woken up with a start by knocking at my door at 3 or 4am. Something told me this didn't seem right, so I left the door locked and called out 'Hello' to no response.

I'm not 100%, but I think it was a couple of guys who had come through the hotel's front entrance (which didn't actually have a door) and were knocking on people's doors, for what reason I am unsure. All I know is I'm glad I had my door locked as a few minutes later someone tried my door, all the time not a word being said. When everything quietend down I tried getting back to sleep again, but perhaps understandably this was easier said than done.

The next day I was back on my way across the border to Turkey.

I'm regretting not spending much time at all in Georgia, but I was really wanting to concentrate my time in Turkey, the East inparticular. The people I came across were mostly helpful and friendly, just as in Turkey and I would gladly go there again and spread my time out a bit more.

At the time of writing there are works ongoing for a railway line to be built from Turkey into Georgia, which I think would take a lot of the hassle out of it, but might well be less fun!

Few pictures

 

i - Trying to capture at least a feel of one of the sunsets overlooking the giant sanddrift-like hills, Mardin

ii - Out towards the endless horizon, Mardin

iii - Looking down a set of stairs inbetween the typical housing in Mardin 

iv - Down the snaking road towards the more modern part of Mardin

v - More Mardin

vi - The vast canyons near Artvin

vii - A typical Turkish set of shops and Mosque, just inside the Turkish border in the town of Hopa

Turkey

I had a good 4 days in Istanbul.

It’s the biggest city I’ve been to; numbers are in the air at 16million.

I took in some of the sights, felt largely indifferent to the main tourist spots and spent time getting lost. Besides the numbers, no other city I’ve been to has the same feel to it. Maybe it’s the relentless efforts the people go to to persuade you go to their shop or cafe – sometimes standing in your path, asking where you’re from, then pointing you to a nearby table, all in the space of 6 seconds. The way they go about it is really friendly though.

Or, maybe it’s being able to buy pretty much anything under the sun from the street markets and I mean anything. Men’s boxer shorts, taps and watches share the same table. All this is going on most hours of the day.

There are so many districts that sometimes it feels like you’re in a different city altogether. On one of the days I ventured out to the Eyup area at the tip of the Golden Horn. Here there was a different air. There were still crowds of people, the difference was that I felt like I was the only Westerner there. It was also cheaper. After spending a good few hours in the area I headed back by way of a zigzagging ferry, that went all the way back to Kadikoy, stopping alternately between one side of the river to the other.

The Grand Bazaar felt overrated. In hindsight the one in Izmir was more genuine, cheaper and had less camera-toters blocking doorways. I’m glad I spent the time to wander around it though, even if the novelty didn’t last very long.

The Spice Bazaar was good, perhaps not as much spice as you’d imagine, but I still enjoyed taking in a few lungfuls of the exotic spices, that were presented in huge sacks with quotes by the kilo.

I had a look at a couple of mosques, can’t say I was too fussed about going inside any – I mainly appreciated the architectural side.

With a friendly invitation from a small group from the hostel, I also took in some culture in the form of a couple of modern art exhibitions (Bienal something). On the whole, I enjoyed the experience. There were of course some ridiculous pieces, I’m sure the artist could justify them with pages of pretentious jargon, but that didn’t matter.

There were some real thought provoking and emotional pieces that I was glad to give my time to, whereas the video installations, on the whole didn’t really grab me.

A favourite of mine was the first-person account of a Korean soldier’s life in the US army, in the 1950s. It was a large expanse of diary-like entries with pencil drawings. It contained some of the small differences in culture, the pettiness of war and some humour thrown in.

After leaving Istanbul for the second time, I set off going East – my favourite direction at the moment.

Before finding my night train, I experienced some overwhelming kindness from one Turk.

I’d set off with an hour to spare to get my overnight train from Istanbul to Ankara and was on the ferry to bus me to the Haydarpașa train station. I was just asking the guy sat next to me if the stop we were at was indeed the right one, and in the process missed the stop.

Another guy, who spoke English, offered his help (I’m finding this to be very common in Turkey. Whenever asking for directions somewhere, or where to get a certain bus from, a small group envelopes you. Passers-by get involved and sometimes they’ll summon someone who speaks English if there is one) and after examining my train ticket it was decided that guy #1 would take me to the station himself.

It was only a 10 minute walk, but the guy was pretty insistent that he’d accompany me, so I just went along with it. Next thing I know he’s set a speedy pace, as if my train were leaving in seconds, not an hour. Along the way we passed a sweetcorn stand / trolley and he bought him and myself one, of course I wasn’t going to reject and risk offending him.

We arrived at the train station and he was asking everyone we passed where to go. He took me to the information desk, found out the platform number, took me to the train, found my carriage, got onboard with me, found my seat, put my bag in the ceiling section for me, then shook my hand, kissed me on both cheeks and went outside and watched me sit down. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face and probably got more sustained stares than usual, but I didn’t care.

Unfortunately there were no sleeper carriages, so I was stuck in a bolt upright position all night, at least it was a single seat. I arrived in Ankara at 5am, had a walk around as the city woke up and decided I’d press on to Erzurum as I wasn’t fussed about spending the night there.

Another sleepless night and I was in Erzurum, where I was surprised at how cold it was. After walking around in search of a hotel for that night, I caught sight of some distant mountains and later on it started to snow.

Trains in Turkey are incredibly slow, getting overtaken by buses when the rails run next to the roads. Part of me appreciates this, however, as there is some spectacular scenery along the way, the other part sometimes wishes they’d clock up the miles a bit quicker.

The scenery varies vastly from grassy desolate plains to snow capped mountains. Sheep and cow herders along the way, men ploughing fields with a horse and odd clusters of men watching the day go by. Also, buying an InterRail ticket for Turkey was a waste, as besides being slow, the Turkish railways are also painfully cheap.

Along the way there were lots of tiny little settlements and villages. There were more than a few moments when I just wanted to get off the train in the middle of nowhere and walk towards one of these little villages, but I chickened out. They made me think of those old stories about a traveller in a foreign land seeking a roof for the night and finding a lonely inn in the middle of nowhere.

After spending one night in an Erzurum hotel I spent another in Kars, and from there it was the end of the Turkish rails, and onto the minibuses.

A bit of asking around the next morning and I was in a Ford Transit minibus on my way to the Turkish / Georgian border.

Glad to see the back of Athens and trying to grasp some of the Turkish language

About time for my bi-monthly post I think!

Well as you may tell from the title, when it got down to it, I didn't particularly enjoy Athens.

There were a few reasons for this. The main complaints were that it was probably the most touristey city I've been to, usually yeah, it's escapable and you can find somewhere away from the crowds. With Athens though, you'd lose the crowds, and there'd be absolutely nothing of interest to reward the wanderer. I did manage to get a haircut though, despite the language barrier, for a mere 5€ - luckily I had an appropriate picture on the wall to point at. Have to say I'm not quite worked up enough to get it all shaved off!

Anyway another reason I didn't quite enjoy Athens was that the place didn't feel Greek once you'd looked past the tourism. Yeah there was the Akropolis and the other associated relics, and the new museum wasn't bad, but aside from that it didn't feel genuine anymore. Maybe I was missing something, but 4 days was definitely too long for Athens!

Anyway, moving on from that downer...

From Athens I worked out a little bit of island hopping. First to Santorini, then to Paros. From Paros I would then hop to Samos, and to Turkey again. 

Both islands were beautiful, and I wish I'd allowed more than a day on each one, and they certainly did feel Greek. There was more of a relaxed attitude and lifestyle on the islands, and outside of the port areas, not much in the way of a police presence. 

Santorini was a picturesque, postcard island, with the typical white, stonewashed houses, beautiful beaches and perhaps an over excessive amount of quad bikes and scooters whizzing around. I decided I was going to eat out that evening and wanted to sample some Greek cuisine outside of the brilliant, but samey Pork Souflakis (think of a kebab, but with Tzatziki and fries).

I ended up going with a recommendation for 'The Volcano' restaurant. It was the most packed place and I had to wait for 15 minutes or so, but in the end it was worth it.

On my way I'd be browsing all the other overpriced menus and shrugging off the 'specials' some of the waiters would try and decide for you. A good way of being left alone was to say I had already eaten, and was looking for tomorrow.

It was a round 10€ I paid for a moreish Moussaka (think Lasagne, but Greek) and a side of stuffed vine leaves, with some Amstel. It felt like money well spent.

I was staying in the only hostel on the island, which turned out to be okay, and participated in daft drinking games until the wee hours.

Which brings me back to the lawless nature of the islands.. 

It got to something like 3am and some people were lining their stomaches with some indulgent crepes (not sure why Greece have adopted these, not that I'm complaining) to finish a night of drinking.

Out of the blue a guy parks next to the Creperie and, barely being able to walk or stand upright, with a huge grin drawn on his face, orders a crepe. The guy was obviously trousered and the locals barely battered an eyelid as he poured himself back into his car and drove off. Obviously we gave him a wide berth before walking back to the hostel!

The next day, after retracing last night's steps to the Creperie and getting something to set me up for the day, I went for a bit of a wander before my ferry at 3 o'clock that afternoon. I wasn't able to go too far, but I did find a church that looked like it was carved into one of the hills and so in the meditteranean? heat I clambered up the crumbling steps to get a closer look.

It was worth the buckets of sweat and the views up there were something else. I sat in the tiny bit of shade there was left (unfortunately the church was locked) and caught my breath while enjoying the landscape laid out before me.

Paros had the similar white houses and shops but had a slightly different feel to it. There were thankfully a lot less bikes to drown your brain. I stuck pretty much to the small town my hostel was in and wandered through the narrow market streets and took in the fresh sea air. Later on, the sunset was incredible aswell. This felt like an island I could spend weeks on, away from the madness of city life and free to go at my own pace.

Then it was back toward Turkey again.

This was after the hideous overnight ferry from 1105. I was allocated an open-deck seat, but I wasn't up to that so I upgraded for 6€ to get something a little more respectable, but not quite sleep-friendly. I managed a few uncomfortable fragments of sleep, before arriving in Samos at 5.30am.

So after a very cheap bus ride from the port town in Turkey and readjusting to the Turkish Lira, I was in Izmir for 4 days. 

I enjoyed this city. It's home to the huge Kemeralti market area (covering maybe 3km?) where I bought myself a kilo of Turkish Delight for 3TYL / 1,5€, which I probably shouldn't do too often. It was great to get lost in the endless streets, knowing full well that if you carried on straight, you'd eventually make it out, back into the real world again.

There are lots of little tea (chai) houses everywhere, aswell as men with kettles and glasses walking around the grassy areas, serving tea to anyone with a few coins.

The clock tower and the Konak pier are also apparently quite famous, the clock featuring on Izmir posters around town. It also, like everywhere in Turkey, has its fair share of mosques, with four or so prayer songs that are broadcast on the loudspeakers. 

There were no hostels in Izmir, but I did find a cosy little budget hostel that worked out at maybe £13 a night for a single room, with TV, air conditioning and some affectionate mosquitoes. 

I was happy to spend hours walking and getting lost and trying new and incredibly cheap foods. It's also easy to see why Turks drink buckets of tea, which is drunk black, in a little glass so you can see the blood red colour of it. It has to be said though, that I'm really missing having a kitchen at my disposal... at this point I'm crying out for something not containing pastry, meat, cheese or all the above. There's also a huge array of spices just waiting to be sampled.

Now, once again, I am back in Istanbul.

I arrived yesterday evening from a comfortable bus and ferry combination, and chilled at the hostel.

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I've been saving up my facial hair in order to go for a real Turkish shave, cut throat razor and all. I'll see if I can stumble into somewhere that's reasonable.

Anyway, time to run, I'll see if I can find some vegetables to chew on.

Kiev - Sevastopol - Istanbul

Ok, where to start...

Well, first off, I missed the 1655 to Kiev, as I strangely assumed it would be at the same time the following day, instead it surprised me by being 10 minutes earlier.

It wasn't so bad though, but this is the second time I've missed a train in Warsaw, must be something to do with the streets being longer than you expect, from looking at a map. In the end I was glad to have a train going from very early in the morning the next day (only had to pay the reservation again) as there would have been little sleep anyway.

Which brings me onto the border crossing. 

The passport and Immigration checks, which I have to admit were a little unnerving took the best part of 2 hours. Perhaps it was that I didn't have a return address to give them for my departure from the Ukraine, or the fact that a guy in full military get-up would throw a glance in my room every few minutes. Maybe it was just being the sole English-speaker in the whole train that did it. Either way, I'm sure you get used to it. 

After you were stripped of your passport and the Arrival and Departure Immigration card, the train then went into a huge shed where the train's wheels were replaced from the standard European (4' 8½") gauge to Russian 5' gauge. This was a system implimented to cripple the movement of the Nazis, and hasn't been updated since. Still, it was quite cool being lifted inside the train, maybe a meter or so into the air, while a team of engineers changed the wheels. You understand now, why I was glad that I wasn't fighting to get some sleep while all this was all going on!

So, Kiev then.

When I arrived here, I was faced with lots of grey, beat up Ladas, Babushkas selling fruit and other foods on the corners and even more of the military. This is when it dawned on me that I should've taken the time to learn even a little bit of Cyrillic. In the end, after a lot of running around trying to find anyone who spoke English (and failing) I hesitantly made use of a taxi after a couldn't get a response to "Metro?". 

If you ever get to Kiev, you'll understand when I say it looks better at night. During the day you'll notice the horizons are all dominated with grey apartment blocks, and a very strong Russian influence (as you'd imagine). One thing that did disappoint me though, was how Western the place felt once I'd started to explore outside the doors of my hostel, after my first full night's sleep. There were McDonald's, Starbucks and lots of the other global giants. Funny then, that the only place where you could rely on someone being able to speak a few words of English were restaurants and cafes.

I suppose I was just hoping to find myself in a place with very few similarities at all with home. Maybe I'd have to go into the deepest parts of Russia to get away from all that.

I spent 3 days in Kiev, probably too much as by the end of the second day I felt like I'd seen most of the main sights. There were a good few churches dotted around, some topped with gold domes which looked all the better when the sun shone on them. On the 3rd day, as I was hanging around with a dude from Atlanta who spoke a little Russian, I went along to the Lavra monastery. 

This was all well and good on the surface - some impressive structures and a good view of the surrounding areas. The main attraction though, for me at least, were the catacombs, where you could look at loads of mummified monks. You had to go down with a special candle and the women had to cover their heads. It was quite an intense, almost claustrophobic experience and I felt out of place at times as people were crossing themselves above each monk, when I was just comparing which box of wrapped up bones was the largest. 

We also went to the nearby Museum of the Great Patriotic War, where the Mother Motherland monument dominated the skyline. Sounds a little dull, even to myself, but then Kiev didn't seem to have a mass of things to do. Probably, if I'd have had the same insider knowledge as in Warsaw, I'd have more interesting things to talk about.

From Kiev it was another overnighter train to Sevastopol, the Southern-most part of Ukraine, closed to the public as recently as 1996. This, aswell as being considerably warmer, was more interesting, but the language barriers still remained.

I went to the famous ex-submarine base in Balaklava (yeah, that knitted garment of the same name was first used here), witnessed open-air karaoke and got confused at how quickly it went from dusk to absolute pitch-black at 8 o'clock sharp. 

The submarine base could've been something straight out of James Bond. It was concealed within a mountain and submarines, submerged, would enter, completely undetected from the outside. There were also some amazing views of the port from atop the nearby hill, with the port on one side and the Black Sea on the other. 

As for the karaoke, I don't think I'll be forgetting that any time soon. Something about a woman with a greasy mullet singing Tatu songs in Ukrainian that tends to stick. Cheap beer definitely made it even pass as entertainment. 

After a two-day ferry from Sevastopol (handy having someone Ukraine book tickets for you. Was impossible to get anything more recent than 7 years ago on the Internet in the way of information) I am now in Istanbul. The ferry wasn't bad at all. Meals were included and there were at least some English-speakers to keep me company. 

I'm only going to be here for tonight, heading to Greece tomorrow with any luck on yet another overnight train, spending a week island hopping, then looking toward a solid month in and around Turkey. 

Prague - Gdansk - Warsaw

The Prague to Gdansk journey wasn't so bad.

Sometimes there'd have be a compromise made on the Polish trains, however - open the window to avoid being poached in your own sweat, or close it and be able to hear yourself think. I don't think Polish trains are the most up to date in the world, but then, they are incredibly cheap. They have the charm of a knackered old shed on wheels.

Onto Gdansk then..

Well, being brutally honest, I'm unsure if it was worth the 15 hour journey, but the Old Town was good to go around. After that, though, there was little else. I took a look at some of the places in The Tin Drum and that definitely added to the experience. I had a hearty meal of pork neck, boiled potatoes, and a salad for something approaching 4€ (with beer) in the covered market and just leisurely walked around without stress, taking a picture or two. 

The 'Lucky-Hostel' I stayed in was ok. I'm never overly keen on these places where you're staying in the cellar of a real, family home, but it wasn't as bad as it could've been. It was quite funny being shown to your bed by the owner's son, who can't have been much more than 15. 

Also, the hostel was located miles away from anywhere, so unless you wanted more kebab as an evening meal, there was only the petrol station nearby. If, like me, you forget to buy food from the supermarket when it's actually open, sometimes you have to make do with a large bag of crisps until morning.

So, after a bit of thinking, I'd settled on heading to Kiev in the Ukraine. The general plan was to get an overnight train from Gdansk to Warsaw, then get a second night train direct to Kiev. In reality two night-trains in a row would've been too much, so I reconsidered and decided to spend a night in Warsaw.

That was until I bumped into a cool character called Graham on the platform to Warsaw. I was glad of the company on the train. It turned out to be one of the most uncomfortable train rides so far - 5 hours... stood up, with barely enough room to turn around, let alone swing some felines.

Hanging around with Graham, I've been in Warsaw since Friday, and I'm really glad I did. Because the 1655 to Kiev was full by the time I wanted to buy a ticket, I got to know a small portion of the 'real' Warsaw. Now my opinion of this city is much greater, it has many hidden gems that you'd never get a sniff of if you didn't have the local, insider knowledge. This, Graham had, because he knew a few people around the city.

We met up with some of his friends in the centre on the Friday, who all turned out to be really cool too. But, the really cool places were discovered when the group dwindled down. It's a shame they couldn't all come along, but some had to attend a wedding the next day.

We went round a few corners, which, unless you're really paying attention (or have some kind of GPS) you'd take forever to be able to retrace, and ended up at this surreal set of bars. It's difficult to describe how cool these tiny rooms were, but basically there were rows of seemingly lifeless doors and barred up windows. The place had no signs, and there were no names to any of the bars, but after opening one of said doors, it all started to become clear.

Behind each of the doors was a dark room (most had a downstairs aswell) decorated in its own unique style. One had a room full of vintage chairs, some leopard print, some leather, some wicker, some you'd maybe find in a skip. There was one with walls overloaded with mirrors, another with varieties of 1950's wallpaper, complete with some wireless radios and classic lamps, like a living room straight from that era. Another one had dildoes for door handles and a giant paper mache penis on the ceiling.

I couldn't have guessed there'd be somewhere like this, but I'm so glad it was shown to me. A good part of it was that there was pretty much no other tourists in this place, as with Warsaw itself (most apparently flock to Krakov). Here you won't find the massive tour groups, bus trips around the sights, or swarms photographing the same square inch. It's as if it's a city undiscovered or overlooked.

So anyway, after plenty of interesting little finds, including a tiny vegetarian restaurant, and free music bars in the Palace of Culture (apparently nothing at all to do with Lenin, as said in my previous post on Warsaw) and coming to understand how great Warsaw is when you look past the surface, I have my ticket to Kiev.

It's at 16:55 later on, so I'm going to kill a few hours and prepare for a very bumpy ride. I'll make a new post before too long, including a mention of the things you have to endure on the border of Poland / Ukraine.

Hamburg, Dresden, Prague

Hamburg was nice enough, though with the saving of money I wasn't upto much other than the usual wandering around. I ventured into the town and watched a bit of the Polizei(sp?) band playing some jumpy numbers before they packed it in when the rain started to sprinkle.

Dresden was beautiful. I enjoyed the Altstadt (old town) side of the bridge more than the Neustadt side, though the new town did have the golden horserider. Bet that's worth a pretty penny. Twas t-shirt-clingingly-hot again.

Following that I was out of Germany and into Prague to give it a proper once over this time, and it didn't disappoint.

Though obviously suffocated with tourists during most of the day, there is too much in Prague to pass on. Yesterday I spent a good 6 hours walking around the Old Town attractions including the Cathedral, the Old Town Hall, the Astronomnical Clock and of course Charles bridge (which was sadly half covered in scaffolding). The main square had a nice array of various food stands, from Jewish cuisine to chicken kebabs on a skewer... and of course pints of draught beer for less than a quid. Didn't take me too long to figure out the currency (1€ = 25Kc), can't wait until the denominations get ridiculous...

I've been gradually getting into meeting people in hostels again, though I was perhaps slightly indifferent at first (the conversations can tend to be a bit samey). Today a very talkative and upbeat chap introduced himself when I was sat alone like a plum, eating breakfast I'd bought, when unknown to me, it was provided free in the hostel. 

Anthony was another Couch Surfer and he spent a good amount of time showing me the ins and outs of the system. All I need to do now is pluck up some courage to give it a try, apparently at least 2 weeks in advance is a good time if you're looking for a couch to sleep on. 

Before rushing off to catch his plane back to London, Anthony showed an interest in meeting me in Turkey inbetween September 20th and October 20th, which would be cool.

After he he disappeared I got myself lost on the way into town. Might have had something to do with getting the tram in the wrong direction! This time amongst the beer drinking I caught the Jubilee Synagogue and Prazsky Hrad (Prague Castle) and more pavement pounding. 

Tomorrow is going to contain at least 15 hours of trains, aswell as a disgusting 840 start from Nadrazi Holesovice train station so I treated myself to a nice meal this evening, totalling about 200Kc / 8€ / £7someting. I had a good old beef goulash with a side of grilled veg and a pint of cold Gambrinus lager.

I've come to understand that its only reading books that keeps me awake on long train journeys. Music, computer and view gazing all do little to prevent the inevitable slip into daydreaming some 20 or 30 minutes after departure. Little bit irritating to be fair.

Anyway I can't believe tomorrow it will be a week already since I left home... time flies. Going to short my clobber out then try and get a good night's sleep.

here we go again..

Well here I am again, after a very swift 4 weeks at home - I'm back travelling again. This time I could easily be away for upto 2 years, but I'm insured until November 2010, so we'll see how long I last.

Just a quick recap of my itinerary:-

Kicking off with two months in Europe, planning on spending a chunk of time in and around Romania and a solid month in Turkey.

From Istanbul I will be catching a plane to Sydney on October 20th, where I will see about fruitpicking for 6 months. If circumstances are good I could spend an extra 6 months in Australia, only I won't be working as my working visa will have expired*. In that time I will try my best to get to New Zealand, before then heading to South East Asia.

Meanwhile in the present..

I'm on my second day at the time of writing, arrived in Hamburg at about 9something o'clock and making use of the free wi-fi in the hostel lobby. Yesterday I was in the Belgian city of Brugges.

Brugges was a very pretty little city, the buildings reminded me of Munich architecture with the triangular-shaped roofs. All very cute and village-like. I'd like to go there again for a couple of weeks.

I was pretty knackered by the time I had arrived so after a small wander and grabbing some frites covered in a 'samurai' sauce, I returned to hostel, necked a cool beer, and turned in.

My first day had its share of stress. As a result of my outstanding organisational skills I was late for my train from Sheffield and had to fork out another £61 to get to London St. Pancras. Upon arriving I was lucky enough to be chosen to have my bag checked. So much fun having the entire contents of your bag emptied into a box, with less than ten minutes until your Eurostar is about to depart..

They didn't even confiscate the two penknives I've taken with me.

So, after shoving everything back into my bag with my fist and sprinting up the escalator to some tutting train attendants, I was safe.

It was a much better first day than that of my other trip, in Paris, but very tiring nevertheless.

Today has been more lengthy train rides, so I haven't seen much of anything apart from the insides of carriages. I'm staying in Hamburg for 2 nights though, so I'll see at least a few non-train related things. 

Everywhere is incredibly hot.

* Just a quick note on this. Though I won't be able to do anymore fruitpicking after my working visa has finished, I have read about doing things like cleaning in some hostels in order to get free board, which is completely legit.

Interlaken, Switzerland

I managed to get some pictures before the rain pounded into the hillsides. I set off from the Hostel I was staying in relatively early in the morning, as they'd keep shoving extreme(ly expensive) activities in your face. 

This was definitely hiking country. I wandered up a couple of comparatively tiny hills, and, caked in sweat, took in some spectacular views - only wish I'd had a pair of binoculars. It was also a shame that none of the ski-lifts near me were operating.

Another thing I wished I could've done was to go up Jungfraujoch aka the 'top of Europe'. Apparently used in one of the James Bond films. The pictures I saw of this looked stunning. Here's one I've just stolen

 

Unfortunately the weather was not permitting, until I was once again on my way, as is Sod's law.

Here's a sample of what I did manage to see..

 

 

The lake was a natural turqoise colour and incredibly still. The only movement was the occasional boat that seemed to slide along it's glassy surface, leaving behind a trail like that of a lazy brushstroke.

Sitting amongst the trees was very therapeutic, the only interruption being the odd, distant car, and of course the rain.

 

Venice

Despite the crowds, and there were a lot of crowds, this was a worthy stop. I stayed on the outskirts of Venice in a funky campsite, in a kind of lightweight cabin, for 1 night. 

It turned out one day walking around the centre was plenty of time. It is a fun place to get lost (and you will get lost) but you never stay lost for too long. 

Luckily it was pretty easy to escape the crowds and the expensive restaurants / stalls simply by walking around a couple of corners. 

 

Slovenia

Absolutely beautiful country, though admittedly much nicer when the weather is tame. 

To start with, a few pictures of Tolmin, near where Metalcamp was. Not going to post too many pictures of the festival, as most of them came out too blurry.

The festival was great, I managed 4 and a half of the 5 days - the constant pounding of rain every night had taken its toll on my cheap-o tent, and I woke up with a growing puddle everyday. There wasn't the novelty of being the only Englishman here, which was a little disappointing, but then it was a much bigger festival than the one in Portugal (20k instead of 1.5).

Then there are a few of the centre of Ljubljana, with the dragon bridge and views from the castle.

          

And a few of and around Bled..