Bathing in History

Gourds are used as lovely, colorful lights on patios.

Today I decided to be brave and experience something unique.
Did you ever laid naked on a slab of marble, covered by 4 inches of foam and then they bring out the sandpaper to work on your body?
Today I took a Turkish Bath!

Pottery tea pot displays.

They advertised everywhere and, since I love Asian massages, I decided to give it a try. The bath people even offer a free ride from and back to your hotel. When the van picked me up, there were already two British ladies on board. I figured correctly that we would get to know each other intimately. The first half hour was spend stuck in traffic in the narrow streets of Sultanahmet, or old Istanbul. Fruit carts, delivery van and buses were stuck in a solid knot while drivers snoozed, honked or swore in Turkish.

The bath house, or hamam, built in 1475, was shaped like a mosque with many domes. The marble entry hall had two storey-high wooden change room structures for men. The women's bath was off through another hallway under another marble dome with similar change rooms. The two English ladies and I were ushered into a very small room and told to strip naked. We were each handed a cotton strip of fabric, which I hoped to be the size of a table cloth. It actually was the size of a small table runner.
We tried to pull and tug but it stayed the size of a small table runner.

Roasted chestnuts

We were then led into a sauna. A small, very hot sauna with cedar benches and a glowing fire. At first I didn't think I could breathe. But once I relaxed it was fine. I sat until sweat poured freely from my spontaneously opening pores.

'My' masseuse summonded me. I tried to look dignified, but all sweaty and wrapped in a handkerchief, this was hard to do. She instantly unwrapped me, spread my cloth like a place mat on a huge marble slab in the center of the room, and ordered me to lay down on it, much like a turkey on a dinner table.

She proceeded to pour warm water over me, before bringing out the heavy artillery in the shape of a sandpaper glove. It wasn't as bad as I had feared and actually felt quite invigorating.

Birdsnests made from pastry filled with nuts.

More warm water was followed by about 6 inches of foam, spread all over me. Soap crawled into my ears and mouth as I had a massage that was not as good as an Asian massage, but not bad. I flopped around on the marble slab like a slippery bar of soap, trying hard not to slide off and onto the floor. Then I was ordered through an arched doorway, up the steps and into another arched dome with a small pool.

"Swim, lady, swim!" my masseuse ordered. I flopped into the water like a slippery trout.
Cold! It was cold water. But once I decided to endure a Turkish bath, I think I resigned myself to accept my fate lock, stock and barrel - without complaining. So I swam.
After this I was invited back into the sweat sauna, or to take a nap on the slab of marble. I decided that clothes and tea sounded like the most attractive next step.

I'll have 2 warm breads!

On the way back to the hotel, and once again stuck in traffic, cars honked, tourists shopped for leather shoes and the driver mumbled many Turkish swear words.
But I just sat there, gloating. I felt very clean.
And very serene.
I had just had a Turkish bath!

I'm sure you will appreciate the fact that there are no accompanying photos for this story.

 

You want to go where?

Turkey Means Food!

The Blue Mosque of Istanbul

My favorite quotes:
• From 4 year old Nico: “You’re going to Turkey? Will you send me a postcard with turkeys on it?!”

• From a taxi driver: “Trust everything on a stick!” 
(he meant food, like kebabs).

Even before you get to the country, the clues are there: Turkish Airlines serves a meal and freshly squeezed orange juice, even on a short three hour flight (take note United Airlines!). More than that: when you walk onto the plane there are regular flight attendants but also one dressed like a cook, in white apron and tall white cook’s hat. The airline magazine sports recipes.
Everyone is Israel who heard the word ‘Turkey’, said “Food!”, rubbing their bellies and licking their lips. Apparently Turkey means good food. “Eat! Eat! Eat!” said our last taxi driver in Tel Aviv. He didn't speak much more English than that.

The impressive interior of the Blue Mosque.

We arrived at one of Istanbul’s two airports: Sabiha Gökçen. It is about an hour out of town and in Asia. Our hotel had quoted us 70 euros for airport transportation. I just about choked. But after some internet research (Trip Advisor) I found a hotel shuttle for 10 euros p.p. I booked this via their website (http://www.istanbulairportshuttle.com/).
They even met us upon arrival with a large name sign and brought us to our hotel. It is good to know, when traveling to Istanbul, that the OTHER airport, Atatürk, is 20 minutes away and in Europe. Be sure to double check at which airport you will arrive and depart. In our case we arrived at one but will depart from the other. Tricky.

Ancient city walls.

Halfway between the airport and the city we crossed a large bridge over the Bosporus. I spotted a sign along the road saying “Welcome to Europe!”
Again, we are thrilled with the hotel we booked via the internet. It is often a gamble and difficult to judge but we lucked out again. Angel’s Home is in the old city: Sultanahmet. Its crooked, narrow streets and hills remind me of Mont Martre in Paris but its atmosphere is distinctly Middle Eastern with many cafe’s and patios along the streets, fruit stands, water pipes, and twinkling lights.

Cats, cats everywhere.

Cats. What’s with cats in this part of the world? We must have seen thousands of cats, all over Israel, Jordan and now Turkey. Cats around apartment buildings, cats outside stores, cats in garbage cans and along the water front. Cats have inundated the Middle East, it seems. There are more cats here than there are bunnies on Salt Spring…

Mosques dominate the skyline and the call to prayer twirls out of many minarets, swirling its haunting tunes over the rooftops.

Tonight we obliged those who told us to “Eat!”. We had traditional Turkish food in a roadside restaurant, served on beautiful white tablecloths, under colorful lights made of gourds.

A traditional Turkish dish.

A sizzling stone dish held chicken and veggies and mushrooms and rice. We had chestnut puree in a type of corn pastry for dessert, with Turkish coffee and Turkish tea... Then we rolled home to our hotel to watch the lit up skyline and freight ships on the Bosporus.

Petra - truly one of the Wonders of the World.

The Siq is over 1 KM long.

How can words describe the world wonder that is Petra?
Before we left on our trip, I read many books and websites. Lonely Planet perhaps described it best of all: “Nothing you read about Petra will prepare you for your first glimpse of the Treasury when you emerge from the Siq.”
And that proved to be true.
I had read about the Nabataeans who lived here more than 2,000 years ago. How they carved facades of buildings out of the rocks in which they made their homes. About how Romans eventually conquered them by cutting off their ingenious water supply systems. I had seen many pictures of the red rock carvings. I knew from tourist information that the Siq, the long steep gorge leading to the site, was over a kilometer long.
But indeed nothing prepared me for that first sight. It truly did take my breath away and left me all choked up.

Beforehand, I had found it hard to picture it all. Turns out that ‘Petra’ only refers to the actual archeological site itself. The town immediately around it is called Wadi Musa.
That’s where the hotels, the restaurants and everything else is. But there’s a part of town right outside Petra, so that you can walk there. And then there’s most of Wadi Musa which is way up on the hills and much too far to walk.
Our Bedouin Camp was a 10 minute drive away, near Little Petra - a small, more natural side of cave dwellings, not incorporated into the preserved area. Our camp offered rides to and from Petra whenever we needed them.

The Treasury

Entrance tickets are expensive: 50 dinars (about $75.-) for one day, 55 dinars for 2 days. So we bought 2 day tickets, which really is the minimum you need to do the place justice.
We walked past the customary tourist traps toward the Siq - a good 10 minute walk. The Siq is a canyon with steep rock faces on either side, sometimes not more than 2 meters wide. I was surprised to see that most of the ground surface is ‘pavement’ - even when it is ancient Roman roads. Inside the Siq it is cool and shaded.
After just over a kilometer, you spot a top glimpse of ‘The Treasury’. A few more paces and you emerge from the shade onto a large, dirt ‘market place’. At first glance all you see is The Treasury: sunlight paints this facade orange. It towers almost 40 meters high. Especially when people stand in front of it, you realize how huge it is. How did these people carve these facades, and pillars? Did they build scaffolding? Use ropes? It boggles the mind to think these masterpieces were made some 2,000 years ago.

The other thing I had not quite realized, is that Petra is not the odd ancient building, but the actual remnants of a large city. Once you emerge from the Siq, you enter what once was a complete and bustling city. Old roads are still visible, some lined with columns. There are many homes, also used as tombs. Besides the large Treasury, there are many other major buildings, including the Monastery. There is a large amphitheater and numerous other buildings. It is believed that some 20,000 Nabataeans lived here.

Walking around Petra all day, climbing staircase after staircase, I kept thinking of the Swiss traveler who rediscovered Petra in the early 1800’s. He would have been so amazed to come across these unexpected sights. Petra was, by then, a city in ruins and used by Bedouin who made their homes in the convenient caves. It is believed that only 15% of Petra has been uncovered today. Perhaps one day scientists will learn why the Nabataeans seized to exist.

We walked in the hot sunshine, climbing, scrambling over rocks. Two days gave us a good impression. I wouldn’t want to “do” Petra in any less than that. The Bedouin women everywhere try to sell you jewelry, tea, anything. I was shocked to see little children, as young as 5 years old, selling postcards to tourists.
One of my favorite books ever is I Married A Bedouin by Marguerite van Geldermalsen. This New Zealand woman traveled to Petra when she was about 20, fell in love with a Bedouin, married him and spent much of her life living in a cave and raising her children there. (http://marriedtoabedouin.com/)
The book is a fascinating account of an unusual life. After her husband died, she left but has now returned to Petra to make silver jewelry with local women. It was fun to meet the author and chat with her. She confirmed that those little Bedouin children should be in school and that tourists should avoid buying from them. Every penny they earn is discouragement to send them to school.

We climbed the 850 steps to the impressive Monastery, the largest structure in Petra. By then I was willing to pay well for fresh lemonade! Which we did...
The books also did not tell us about the piles of warm donkey dung we would encounter on most steps... Donkeys raced through the Siq, their hooves clattering on the old stones, as they gave rides to tourists who had underestimated the amount of hiking you have to do in Petra. Donkey and camel owners everywhere shouted at us "Ride a sexy donkey for a sexy lady?!" "Taxi with air conditioning!"

I am forever grateful that we were able to visit Petra and see the amazing sites with our own eyes. Hope you can visit it, too, some day.





 For more details on Petra's history read:


http://science.nationalgeographic.com/science/archaeology/lost-city-petra/

Jerusalem - a Feast for the Eye

I find that I don't have enough eyes, here in Jerusalem.
The people, the buildings, the crooked alleys full of color. I don't know where to look first.
We traveled here by bus and train. Everywhere, people approach us asking how they can help. When we wear our big backpacks, they can easily see we are visitors. Strangers say 'welcome to Israel', 'welcome to the Holy Land' as we pass by. One train conductor really went out of his way and brought us a schedule, told us where to stand, talking very loudly he attracted a crowd. Then he whipped out his cell phone and shared photos of a cheesecake, saying he really liked to bake. Ha. Everyone was in stitches.


From the train station we splurged on a taxi to the 'old city'. My suspicions were confirmed at the old Damascus Gate: no traffic at all within the old city walls because
there are no roads! Through an absolute maze of alleys often not more than 3 meters wide, we tried to swim upstream against a solid stream of muslims in headscarves, running children, salesmen selling leather bags, rugs, oranges, nuts, spices, breads and kitchenware. Nuns and monks joined the steam, as did tourists speaking many languages. Orthodox Jews, Palestinians, everyone shoulder to shoulder.
The stones have been worn smooth by millions of feet over hundreds and hundreds of years.

Amazingly, we found a door, suddenly in the alley, to our hotel. Hotel Hashimi is three stories tall, rising above the shops and alleys with a fabulous rooftop garden. Our room is almost the same size as the bed, but the rooftop terrace makes up for the lack of space to move around. We sit here gazing out over the Mount of Olives, with its thousands years old graves, as well as over the mount of historic streets that is old Jerusalem. The jewel in this crown seems to be the golden roof of the Dome of the Rock. My favorite moment came when the Christian church bells chimed over the city, joined by the melodious chant of the Muslim call to prayer. If only people lived together as easily as these symbolic sounds.

Children run and play everywhere. It is hard to image growing up in this dark, cool maze of steps and alleyways. The vendors, by and large, do not praise their wares. But you are expected to hackle over prices. We ate fried chicken, wonderful creamy hummus and warm pita bread. Today I asked for pomegranate juice and the guy sliced four large, ripe ones and plunged them in a squeezer.

We joined the throng of people entering the Church of the Holy Sepulchre - the holiest site for Christians, this is the purported site of Jesus' crucification, his burial site and the site of the grotto of resurrection. The light steaming into the church itself, the endless stream of faithfuls approaching the sites, the dusty stone corridors and staircases, all add to the special feeling that hangs in the air.

 A highlight came when, once outside and following more alleys, corners and stairs, we stumbled upon the Western Wall, or wailing wall. Having seen photos of it for so long, it seemed surreal to be standing here. The people are fascinating and my photographer's heart beats faster, trying to capture their beautiful faces - shadows on the wall, children with prayer books. Rabbis were chanting, groups were debating, men rocked back and force, seemingly arguing with the wall.







On the way back, a stream of nuns, monks and Christians came by singing and chanting the Lord's Prayer. It is amazing to me how they live together, albeit uneasily I'm sure, and how each group seems to want the same: love their God and have a home and a healthy family.

The Oregon Coast

Crown jewel of sand beaches, winding roads along steep cliffs.. the Oregon Coast. One of my favorite places in the world!

There is so much to see and do. I will focus on the center of the state: from Florence to Oceanside, Oregon.

There are many lighthouses along this coast. Check here for details on visiting and touring them: http://www.nwcoast.com/lighthouses/oregon.asp
On the following dates, admission to public lands and parks will be free of charge:

• August 25, National Park Service Birthday and
• September 28, National Public Lands Day

 Florence has a lovely old town with little stores and restaurants. Driving north, a visit to the Sea Lion Caves is pretty impressive. You can take an elevator down into the rocks, stepping out into a natural cave that houses hundreds of sea lions. The smell and noise make this a memorable experience: http://www.sealioncaves.com/

Next is Cape Perpetua with a good visitors' center, trails and tide pools. Kids (and adults..) will love exploring life in the tide pools, finding anemones, starfish and much more.
If you have time, take the drive up to Perpetua Look-out for the amazing view south along the coast. And be sure to stop at Devil's Churn to watch white foam waves spouting up between the rocks.

We like visiting the little town of Yachats, especially the little winery and The Drift Inn with live music every night of the year. http://www.the-drift-inn.com/schedule.php

After that you will come to "our" village of Waldport, where we do our grocery shopping, find amazing wines and micro brews in Ray's Supermarket, pick up a latte and watch seals lazing along the Alsea river. Nice kayaking here, too. We have a little cottage just north of here and love spending days walking along the wide sand beaches. Amazing beaches. At low tide they are 1/4 mile deep, and allow us to walk many miles from here to Seal Rock. Along Highway 101 are several woodcarvers, selling large wooden bears, fun sea gulls and more. There are also 5 state parks between Waldport and Newport, all with gorgeous beaches.

Newport and Lincoln City are pretty crowded in the summer with tourists, shopping, doing all the touristy things. But do visit downtown Newport to see the sea lions on the public dock. Clam chowder at Mo's makes for a good lunch. And I like to pop into the Leather Works Store which has many leather things, all under $20.-, including office roll-on bags, purses, belts and jackets. Newport also has the Aquarium and the Hatfield Marine Science Center, if you travel with kids or want to explore these sites.

North of Lincoln City, the crowds fade away behind you and things get quieter. But there are also fewer places to eat or shop. The towns seem more 'rustic' and I noticed more 'closed' signs than 'open'... But be sure to swing into the road leading to Cape Foulweather. Amazing vistas. And the cool giftshop here has my favorite window in the whole world. It makes you feel like you are hanging above the Pacific. Which you are. 500 feet to be exact.

Tillamook... you can visit the cheese factory, the airplane museum which is the largest wooden structure in the world (http://www.tillamookair.com/) and take a ride on the Garibaldi steam train. But it's worth the drive to Oceanside to spend some relaxing days in this picturebook village. The houses cling to the cliffs (literally) and you can sip a latte looking out over the blue ocean or walk on the sand beaches near the famous Three Arches. A great place to hang out. Best time to visit the coast: September, when the wind is calm, the sun usually shines and the crowds have gone home.