Errol.ca

So, I’m back in Canada. My PC is still set to Turkish time, I have one watch with Toronto/Montreal time, another in Vancouver time (not surprisingly, the one I’m wearing).

Somehow, I feel like I’m straddling a number of time zones, jet lag is only somewhat at bay as I’m adjusting to the 8 to 10 hour difference fairly quickly. The trip has ended but I’m still living out of a back pack. My mind is not lacking for stimulation. I have forgotten how profound and incredibly kind my friends and family are, this pleases me a great deal. I’m savoring the process of rediscovery.

The last while has been wonderful, reconnecting with Monique, Chris, Naveed, Lois, Raj, Deron, Marc, Natalie, Steve, Katlin, Carol, Tina, my Vancouver relatives and getting to know Helen and Alison has been a real treat. It’s been wonderful to benchmark my thoughts against a familiar setting where I can remember the thoughts that used to absorb my mind, as I ponder the world I’m in… with what I know now.

I love my life. It’s good to be me!

Well, the last week and a bit has been hectic as I tried to cover so much of this massive country. Turkey is wonderful, mysterious, fun, adventurous (but not in the dangerous sense, I’ve had better luck getting myself into trouble elsewhere in the world (Other than my almost dangerous bouldering incident, there has been no hint of trouble in Turkey)). Yes, it would be really nice to have another week, as I have been from Istanbul to Goreme to Kayseri to Urfa to Kahta, to Karadut to the top of Mount Nemrut to Kahta, to Mersin, to Anatalya, to Olympos, to Kas to Fethiyh to Bodrum, to Seluck to Denzili to Pumakkale to Denzli to Seluck to Canakkale. (By the time this blog is published I will be in Istanbul though Bandima, and if you’re looking for these places on a map, I’ve left out all the accents.)

Yes, this has been a little frenetic, I’ve seen lots of things, as I am on one final travel binge before settling down – like a fat kid eating his last bag of “Smarties” (with apologies to fat kids everywhere, but you’re not big boned, you’re fat. Run, run like you’re afraid!). You would imagine I would slow down to enjoy the moment; however, I am just working harder to see everything I want to see. Yes adventures have to end. Everything ends eventually. Yes, a dark ride indeed. [mumbling something incoherent about the travesty that we live for such a brief time…]

I am writing this on the bus, between Seluck and Canakkale, the busses here are nice and well ventilated. As I’ve grown more and more attached to the Turkish people I find myself more compelled to do silly things like this. Normally, I would never take out my laptop in public. However, the people here are honest and the children sitting beside me seem more enamored with the concept of a laptop then anything else.

Beside me is a child who is probably three years old. He doesn’t understand that I don’t speak Turkish. He looks at me with these huge deep questioning dark eyes and talks to me in well, very expressive Turkish. I know he’s asking me questions and singing songs to me. However, I have no idea how to respond. Then, I just smile, laugh and stroke my chin and pretend that he has just said something profound. Then shrug my shoulders. I expect that he is unsure why I’m so boring, or …mute. I seem to be interesting enough to keep his attention. It’s quite endearing.

I remember in my readings on child psychology, that children of this age assume that everybody knows everything that they do – or have done… so being deceitful is difficult for them (as they assume you know they are lying). I find myself wondering if he has any conception that have no idea what he is saying, and if I could explain it – would he really believe me?

The Turkish scenery passes me by on the bus window. Inland it is rather arid. I struggle to stay hydrated. My hangover from last night is just starting to fade. Yet another reminder that I need to stay hydrated, brought to you by my liver (damn you liver work harder.(it’s not my livers fault, I can feel it when I blink)).

Last night was a Turkish festival where there were celebrating a great victory that took place in Selcuk. I can’t remember what it was… the veterans here have impressive guns and moustaches! It’s quite cool to watch them all parade by. I can’t believe that I left my camera in my room. Silly me!.

Yep Turkey- thank you – and I’ll be heading to see Troy soon. Ah, Pirams’ walls. I’m going to touch you. I can’t wait.

Abraham fountain with sacred carp

Originally uploaded by Errol_B
In the town of Abraham, I listen to call to prayer. Urfa feels like the place where religion was born. I suppose Urfa houses the birthplace of western and (some eastern religions), this place is strange, sometimes savage, mostly beautiful land that is being dragged through time further and further away from its illustrious past.

What is it about call to prayer as it rings out across the city from mosque to mosque? The melody can give me goose bumps, it stops my mind. Focuses it. It moves me away from the encroaching future and stops me from contemplating the past.

The call, is a cry of *now* A call to be thankful for what you have. A chance to praise Yahweh / God / Allah for allowing me to venture to the cradle of civilization to experience the present and thank the world for the past which has provided us with so much good.

So, here I am sipping Turkish tea, listening to the call and the water coming from a fountain and as it cascades into a lake that exists as a result of god created, and men preserved (read man-made) when King Nimrod (check spelling) tried to set him ablaze.
(yeah there was a miracle, god turned the logs to carp, and the flames to water (or something)).

Children giggle, adults discuss, and still the call and the fountain dominate my hearing. Beautiful. I wonder if there people know how lucky they are. Probably not as I did not apprecıate what I have at home  till I left it.

Religion is woven into this place. If I was to find god, I would start to look for him / her / it here. I’ll be careful not to turn over too many rocks - becoming a prophet would really ruin all my fun.

Missed Blogs
- The Spectacular ruins of Harran
- Cappadonia
- Troglodytes (proof that fear motivates)
- Turkish wine (damn good)
- the terrible nightlife of Ufra

The pottery trees in Cappadocia

Originally uploaded by Errol_B

Yes, today I’m in the area of Cappadocia. In the town of Gőreme. I have some time alone and I have an opportunity to reflect upon the journey that I have embarked upon. I’m satisfied, I’ve seen wonderful things, terrible things, and now I have a much deeper understanding of the beauty and ugliness of the world. I understand the experience of living by my whims. I also understand the statement.

“He that teavelleth into a country before he hath some entrance into the language goeth to school and not to travel.”

- Francis Bacon

This has been possibly one of the most intense learning experiences of my life and I’m coming out of this trip with more knowledge than I could have picked up from book, or the discovery channel. This time has been very well spent.

So, here I am. I have my plane ticket home. My trip home will have be stopping through Montréal from Istanbul on the 15th of next month. Spending 4 days in Montreal, then to Toronto for an additional 4 days, then to Vancouver for 8, then home to Edmonton. I envision a short trip to Calgary and then I’ll sit back and get my life sorted and started again.

I’ve met some wonderful people on this trip – and given the quality of the individuals that I am constantly meeting it’s difficult to go back to normal life and enter a realm where I’m not meeting new people constantly and getting new ideas and concepts introduced to me from different cultural and philosophical frameworks. I left two fascinating individuals behind today, and am traveling with another one further into eastern Turkey today. The words alone and traveling continues to be a large misnomer. I’m have barely had a moment alone since I came to Turkey.
One book closes and a new one opens.

I have gone through a great deal of soul searching and a series of serious goal setting exercises which have provided me with goals that will keep me busy and excited for some time. I am elated to face my new challenges. One of my closest friends once told me. “There is nothing I like more in life than making lists and crossing each item off one at a time!” I admit at the time I thought he was daft. However, as time has progressed I have begun to see the wisdom in such a statement.

Thus far I’ve been to 2 places in Turkey.

I’ve been to Istanbul, and it’s really big city, the metropolis has it’s own melody, and the tune changes from area to area. It’s free and liberal, while being conservative and ancient. There are buildings in use, clearly built by the Romans. To the people of Istanbul there are just using the space. However, to somebody with my eyes and experience it’s the fact that they are not ruins which makes things so incredible. I could move to Istanbul in a moment.

I’ve been all over Cappadocia as you can see from the picture, is indescribably exotic. Simple and has a village pace.
Urfa bound,

E

pull2

Originally uploaded by Errol_B

We owe the Cyrallic alphabet the Bulgarians. Apparently, it was developed here and not in Russia. I share this fact with you, because it provides me with a platform to talk about it from here.
I’m told it’s possible to “master” the alphabet over a one hour period of intense concentration in conjunction with a small additive of the magical ingredient of beer. I think the beer is just there to take the edge off. Given, the importance that this exotic and practical skill will have in my life, I have not gone through this exercise (bad Errol!). However, I expect that I have spent at least *fifteen minutes* to a *half hour* of my life sitting on street corners, and beside various signs trying to use my hard fought phonics skills to sound out incomprehensible street names, so that I can guess where I am in my roman alphabet map. Regrettably, I am making progress – so there may be something to this.
I feel very silly sitting on the corner looking at each symbol trying to understand what each character is, especially since everything has the same sounds in English, they just have different sounds. So, it’s possible. Hell, I could even learn Bulgarian which many less familiar sounds than the Slavic languages which contort my tongue.

It’s fun

Well, what can I say about Sarajevo.  There is something remarkable about this place.  There is a stark contrast between the destruction inflicted upon the city by the members of the Serbian Army and the beauty of a cosmopolitan European city.  The contrast is vivid, and makes the surroundings that I have enjoyed a little more real. The history is a little more alive, and while you can see the scars inflicted in the city when you look closely, when you admire the city from the top of one of the hills that surround this city.  You can only see the uniform perfection of red roofs with the pastels of house paint directly below them – the only reminders of the war are the white & green grave yards which stand in stark contrast to the red roofs. So, I’ve walked down sniper alley, seen the “Sarajevo roses”, admired the bullet holes that riddle the city, enjoyed the beer, lugged a pack through the tunnels that were the life line to the city during the seige and now and soon I shall be off. 

For some reason, I am gravely sad to leave this place. The people are kind (so kind, somehow it makes the damage done to the people and city more terrible as the people are *so* kind), the city has a romance to it, however, there isn’t enough industry to make a place like this livable I don’t sense an Errol shaped hole in this city. However, I would like there to be one. Again, there is something about decay that gives a city character, with the bombed out buildings, jagged glass that hangs on some of the windows, borded windows in others, and some of the landmarks, homes and businesses rebuilt to their former glory and others still in shambles, gives the impression of a world rebuilding. This city is climbing out of it’s own ashes.,.  and it’s moving on. 

Now, I’m off to Serbia to see if I can understand their side of the story.  I’ll understand there was massive propaganda on all sides of this war, and I’m curious to see what happened there. I don’t think people suddenly become evil….

Missed Blogs:

- 600 years of Islam

- The rememberance fountain

- The Tunnels

- The Olympic city of 1994

- The Bosnian Pyramids

- Bosnian coffee

- house stays

Damn, I’m exhausted.  I used to be able to sleep anywhere, now after one week at home, I found myself unable to sleep on the plane!  Arrrgh!  I have a sneaking suspicion that my first day back is going to be spent all jet lagged to heck.

Oh well, the flight over was pleasant enough, and with a quick opportunity to circle up with Raj my time in

Vienna is as always civilized, and it feels good to be back in

Home was really wonderful.

I’m a very torn  Errol

Well, I’m in Budapest, which is beautiful and cosmopolitan, and comparably expensive to most of the places I’ve been. I suppose this is not a surprise considering where I have been. This city has a magic to it, the people are friendly, and while this is probably one another area where speaking English without hope of understanding much else, presents a problem. The adoption of an aw-shucks mentality when I’m talking does seem to help me get through the majority of the transactions that I need to from day to day.

I admit, that the loss of my big bag in Vienna had me somewhat perpetually rattled. As I don’t have the ability to give myself a physical reset and go for a run (I can’t find a decent running store here to buy shoes), the clothing I was wearing was worn for a longer than I would like (I had two shirts and two pairs of jeans), and something as simple as not having a bathroom bag makes getting ready in the morning a bit of a chore. Then there are the things I lost, the perfume oil from Egypt, the Papyrus from Egypt, the necklace given to me by the Massi warrior that admonished me for not speaking more languages. The counterfeit watches that I picked of from Thailand and Egypt, my hiking shoes, my shower sandals, my towel and my clothing, never mind the umpteen books that I have collected and marked up though my travels *argh*, and my MP3 players. A pox on the person who stole my bag, unless they needed it more than me. Still this is the height of inconvenience. The shopping in Budapest is better than in Bratislava – so I’m fairly well stocked!

But back to Budapest, and I will stop my ranting.

Budapest is a majestic city, which is still rebuilding from the communist domination. In the tourist golden zone the city is almost completely restored, However, you don’t need to go far to see the decay, and architectural styles of the communist era. Additionally, it’ clear that Hungary didn’t have the tax base necessary to maintain the city, so the buildings from the 1300’s on to the moment of communist domination show a great deal of wear and tear.
The people that I talk to – the Hungarians that speak English that I meet are mostly too young to remember the communist occupation, and only have impressions from their parents So the city/country is moving quickly into the west with reckless abandon and the history that they have to pull from is quickly becoming usless in the new free market that they are choosing.

This place is fascinating. I would like to spend a long time here, however – I have no inclination to learn Hungarian.

Missed blogs:
- Bratislava
- Vienna
- Chesky
- The Bone Church
- My social life, (the revolving door)
- Pictures in Europe
- I’m heading home
- The Hungarian equivlent of KISS
- Cool nights out
- $#@*)@#($*)& Bedbugs!
- The Hungarian Baths
- The imprints of Roman Domination
- Vienna bike tour
- Clubbing in Vienna
- Austria wine tasting
- How I feel about churches and castles
- The Jewish quarters
- Going to a Museum, and realizing how far I’ve come, and how much I’ve learned.
- Why I miss my family
- Turkey or China, where will I end up
- Absinthe

Soviena bound…

While it is possible to count the number of journal entries that I have begun and abandoned in the last few months, it’s easy to say that I have regrettably left you out of the loop.  I don’t plan on making amends today. I simply wanted to say that it’s not that I’ve been forgetting to write you – life has just stuck itself in the way. 

I’m currently in Prague, Czech – and it’s difficult to describe a city that I knew so little about until recently.  It seems that all European cities it’s steeped in history and information is incredibly accessible it does take much of the adventure out of learning.  However, as a tourist you can easily push yourself into information overload as you plunge in headway to discover everything about a city. It’s difficult to really enjoy the sights as tourists (yes, this comment is not lost on me) will horde around anything that is moderately novel. Thankfully, they have no taste for exploration.  Avoiding the tourist plague is as easy is looking to see where the tour books end and walking towards the edge of the tourist map.

This city is beautiful, it looks like something out of a fairy tale, there should be dragons and princesses here (well there are Princesses here, but that’s another story) and at times I wish I had a better understanding of art history as it strikes me that there is much more happening on every building than I can see with my uneducated eyes.  The faint detail is lost on me; I am left with a sense of awe as I recognize the amount of work that has gone into each building and each incredibly detailed inch of architecture. What creates tension for me is that I am actually quietly pleased that I am as ignorant as I am…I get to keep on moving instead of stopping at each building to pick out the details. Europe is making me lazy.

The days and nights are full, as the traveler social scene is easy to plug into, it is a little difficult as most people travel for 14 to 30 days and have no conception of what long term travel should feel like.  This can be directly contrasted with Egypt where in many cases I was among one of the least traveled people at the table - where as here I am looked at with awe filled eyes as most people I meet don’t believe this type of travel is possible, or practical.  Interesting. They are good people, and I think I’m making excellent friends here. However, time will tell.

Things I have done:
- got drunk on the train from Krakow
- clubbing
- bar hopping
- Absinthe (wretched stuff, fun consequences)
- Czech Beer
- Meat in a tube
- Enjoyed an anti-Bush Protest
- Gone sight seeing
Yeah, while this does not look like an impressive list… it’s been fun, interesting and enjoyable.  Everything feels transitory here, as I meet people everyday and shed them as they have schedules much more rigid than mine.  It’s strange – I don’t feel an attachment to anything here, yet. I’m hitting my European stride!

Hey there, Life is indeed what happens when you’re making other plans. I’m sitting in the Airport in Sharm El Shiek and within the next 48 hours, I’ll be in Warsaw Poland. While this is a rather abrupt change of pace, and a significant change of scene this is a change that I‘m really looking forward to… as it gets me on another continent, and it moves me to the middle of eastern Europe for a change of culture and a new social scene. So – two quick notes

1) Forever my mind will be associated with memories of camaraderie, fun, impossibly blue skies, wonderful SCUBA diving, scorching heat, views of Saudi, romance, and an endless passion for life…

2) My last day in Dahab was filled with an unexpected surprise. A day of drinking with all the friends we collected. Breakfast started innocently enough

Much love, E

 I’ll write more soon…. maybe ;-)