sarah. on the run.

Fourth of July? Blank Stares.

"The Daily Show: Global Edition" is on the CNN International channel in our hotel room. It's much like the regular edition of "The Daily Show", just chopped up a little to appeal more to the rest of the world. Yesterday we got an episode from the second season of the Sopranos. I don't know what's going on here, but I like it.

Istanbul is really something. A city of mosques, that's for sure. We visited the famous Blue Mosque and neighbors Aya Sofya and Topkapi Palace on our first day, which were each impressively grand. No wait, that was our second day. Our first day was spent napping, wandering aimlessly, and bickering due to lack of sleep during our 12-hour overnight bus ride from Goreme. We're beginning to gauge one another's fatigue enough to know when to just stop talking to each other. And a beer always helps.

We're staying near the historic/touristy part of town called Sultanahmet. What's neat is that our hotel (yes! an actual hotel with a/c and cable TV with English channels!!!!!!!) is hidden on a little side street in a rather non-touristy neighborhood off the main drag, though we still have a nifty little view from our terrace. It feels like we're part of the local scene.

The city is huge. HUGE. We've been here for five days and have barely scratched the surface. I've never seen more street vendors selling more crap in all my life, and that's not even inside the Grand Bazaar. Crap aside, it's quite beautiful here. The rows of buildings remind me of Manhattan, the colors and hills of San Francisco, the heat and humidity of summertime in Chicago. Everybody's out and about. We're sweaty, but we're enjoying ourselves. World Cup fever is alive and well here, too. A few nights ago on a street near our hotel, every single outdoor cafe showcased the game on a big screen TV where about half of the patrons were cheering for Portugal, the other half for England (sorry bout those penalty kicks, England). And this is in a country whose own team didn't even qualify for the World Cup. Oh, and today we toured a carpet museum- another little reminder that we're far from home. 

B and I continue to run into ridiculously nice Turkish people. Every time some old man stops us on the street to assure us how much he loves the U.S. and then invites us to his daughter's home for tea, I instinctively clutch my day pack and look around for an accomplice who's ready to steal my camera. I'm just not used to such unabashed friendliness.

The podcast episodes are coming along well. Obviously there are places and situations where we can't whip out the camcorder (like inside a mosque or down a dark alley at night), but for the most part, we have an overabundance of material. Usually once we feel like we have enough to work with, B digitizes it into the MacBook Pro and begins the editing process using iMovie. We either compose our own music or choose from a pre-built song using GarageBand, compress the final piece, and FTP our masterpiece to my server from any internet cafe with wi-fi or an available ethernet cable. It's not a flawless system, but I'm pleasantly surprised with our success so far using fairly basic programs and services. Right on, 2006.

Vitals:
Daily plate of tavuk shish: 5 lira
Side dish of haydari to accompany daily plate of tavuk shish: 3 lira
Double room at the Sultan's Inn with a/c and cable TV: $40 per night
Snapping your own award-winning National Geographic cover photo: priceless

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Turkish Fairy Chimneys and Other Fancy Stuff

The overnight bus ride from Egirdir to Goreme was decidedly unfun.  Those of you who have trouble sleeping upright, as I do, know that it doesn't matter if you're on a plane or a bus... if you can't lie down, you can't sleep. To make matters more interesting, every couple hours the bus stops for a WC (Water Closet) break and all the lights come on and passengers start shuffling around and talking amongst each other. Even Mr. Ambien candy, my pharmaceutical lullaby of choice, was of little help. I think I dozed off for an hour or two over the ten hour trip. It's times like these that I love my iPod.

Want to freak yourself out a little? Listen to Bob Marley's "Survival" album on a night bus through Turkey.

The sun was rising as we made our way into the Capadoccia region of Turkey. B kept claiming that we were witnessing a "false dawn", where the sun appears to rise but actually doesn't for another half hour or so. It kind of seemed like regular dawn to me, but at that point I was delirious and had been humming "Africa Unite" for about four hours. We arrived in Goreme (probably the most popular town to stay in the Capadoccia region) at around 6 am, checked into the Guven pansiyon, and passed out.

Capadoccia's terrain must be seen to be believed. Active volcanoes in the area have spewed out countless heaps of ash and basalt over the years, and a combination of wind, rain, and erosion throughout the valleys have created natural upright structures that seem to defy gravity. In fact, they're known as "fairy chimneys" because apparently when the first inhabitants came to Capadoccia thousands of years ago, they thought they had stumbled upon a village where fairies lived inside the stone. Indeed the walls of the fairy chimneys are soft, easily carved out, and were used as homes for countless generations until around 1960, when the area was pronounced a national park.

Nowadays, you can visit abandoned fairy chimneys that were dwellings, churches, monasteries, and cemeteries. B and I started our exploration at Goreme's Open Air Museum, which was an absolute delight. Many of the churches still contain their original biblical frescoes, though many faces have been scratched away over the years by Muslims who didn't agree with painting holy images inside a place of worship.

The next day, we'd caught up on our sleep enough to brave a hike along a well-known trail though the Pigeon  Valley. It all started off well... great scenery, great weather, great company. Sometimes we'd be strolling the base of the valley itself, sometimes we'd have to scramble around a chimney or two. At one point we came across a grubby older man who appeared to be living in a makeshift shelter with his emaciated dog. We pantomimed our hellos and he indicated the correct way to continue down the forked path. A few minutes later, we came upon an impossibly narrow crossing around the side of a mountain, at least 500 meters above the valley floor. It was the sort of fall that would kill someone if they happened to slip, no question. B made us turn around immediately. As I started back the way we had come, I noticed the grubby older man tending to some crops just a few meters back. "Aha!" I thought. "He must know the right way, because this can't be it." Sure enough, Ahmed was very familiar with the valley and was more than happy to lead us over the mountain face safely. There was no way we could have done it ourselves. Not only was Ahmed's secret trail unmarked, but it was too steep to attempt without a guide. We kept thanking him and marveling at our incredible luck. When we'd finally reached a safe point where we could continue on without him, we offered him ten lira for his trouble. At first he looked at the bill and waved it away, seemingly not wanting our money. Then we realized he was insulted by the amount and wanted more. We gave him another fiver and said goodbye.

Hours later, what had really happened on that hike finally dawned on us. Ahmed sits in his little makeshift shelter with his emaciated dog, waiting for novice hikers to pass through. As they reach a fork in the road, he sends them down the way he knows is impossible to cross. He follows them at a safe distance and makes sure he's just barely in sight when they turn back, and is only more than happy to lead them over the mountain to safety on an unmarked, unnecessarily dangerous slope when they ask for his help. The hikers feel like they accomplished this incredible feat solely because of his expert help, and are more than happy to pay him when the adventure is over. Which is exactly what we did. And that's why he wanted a specific amount of money. We're such chumps.

The next day, we were up at 4:30 am for a hot air balloon ride over the valley. Fatigue aside, it was really spectacular and awe-inspiring. Unbelievably peaceful. Except for the ten year-old kid standing with his parents next to us in the basket who got vertigo or food-poisoning or the bird flu or something equally disruptive and was vomiting over the side before we even got off the ground. He wasn't faring much better at 1000 meters, believe me. I got the distinct impression that his parents made him go, despite the fact that he obviously wasn't up for it. Assholes. Thankfully, mom and dad still managed to have a ball and take lots of pictures as he lay curled up on the floor of the balloon basket with his head in a plastic bag, and we Morans bit our tongues and enjoyed the view.

Yesterday, we decided to take a guided tour through several regions of Capadoccia that we didn't have time to explore ourselves. Tours are funny things- you're thrown in with a bunch of other people you may or may not like and get shuttled around like fourth graders, but you can also learn a lot without trying very hard. This particular tour was worth our money. We explored an underground city (where the Christians hid from the Romans way back when), hiked through the dramatic Ihlara Valley, visited an old monastery, and learned about ancient Turkish pottery making.

Our guide was fluent in English, extremely well-informed on the history of Capadoccia, and very friendly. We liked him immediately. Over lunch, he explained that he'd just finished a stint in the military (compulsory for Turkish men), fighting Kurdish terrorists in the mountains that border Iraq. During one particular battle, a member of the Kurdish PKK had been injured, but was still alive. Our guide then killed him. He proclaimed this proudly to us, with a smile on his face. We were speechless.

Tonight at 8 p.m. we'll board another overnight bus (and this one takes twelve hours, hooray!) to Istanbul, the first big city on our trip. We've heard it's a city best experienced at a leisurely pace, so we'll be there for ten whole days. It's gonna be a long journey. I'm charging the iPod.

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Turkey, By Land and Sea

Forgive me bloggers, for I have sinned. It's been 7 days since my last post. And what a week it's been!

Wandering through the city of Fethiye, we stumbled upon an American couple traveling the world for their honeymoon, just like us! Tim and Leslie are in their 9th month of travel and had a lot of recommendations and advice for us first monthers. It was comforting to meet another duo that had actually gotten married, quit their jobs, and hit the road looking for adventure. Guys, if you're reading this, it was fun hanging with you, and keep in touch!

B and I wanted to see as much of the Turquoise Coast of Turkey as possible, and had heard the best way is by sea. So last Thursday we boarded our very first yacht and called it home for the next four days. I really can't stress what a good idea this turned out to be, and not just because of all the gorgeous views, rest, relaxation, and Turkish beer.

There were about 16 of us on the boat, mostly couples, and everyone had their own rooms with queen beds. Brendan and I got the honeymoon suite, which was about three times the size of what we expected! I really don't think anyone knew that we were actual honeymooners at the time, but it was appreciated anyway. We were the only Americans joined by representatives from Australia, Chile, Israel, Korea, Scotland, and another set of newlyweds from Turkey. People stuck to themselves a bit at the beginning, but it wasn't long before a combination of sun, beer, and Aussies (gotta love those Aussies) made us all one big family in no time.

We'd generally be at sea for a few hours, then dock somewhere and go swimming for a while, and then eat whatever the cook felt like feeding us (it was always great, for the record). One day we were paid a visit by the pancake boat and Brendan got himself a chocolate-banana treat. Our last night on the boat was ridiculous.. everyone dressed each other, drank heartily, feasted on a watermelon spaceship, and danced the night away. I had the best time and was truly bummed out when the boat docked for the last time and Team USA went our separate way. Saying goodbye is difficult, even to friends I've only known for four days.

The boat dropped us off just outside Olympos, which is technically a national park but has a thriving backpacker scene along its perimeter. I wouldn't exactly call it a hippie hangout, more like summer camp for adults. In Turkey. Really quite odd. We stayed at the Turkmen Treehouses, though we opted for a ground-level bungalow so we could have our own bathroom. The price difference was around ten dollars. Real high-rollers, us Morans. The beach was gorgeous and there were some old ruins here and there, but all in all Olympos wasn't as much a destination as a place to pass through and watch some World Cup games on the way to somewhere more interesting.

However, B and I did have the pleasure of meeting an old cat named Enver while in Olympos. He appeared out of nowhere to ask if he could read my newspaper after I was done, and we got to talking. Turns out Enver travels the world with oils and canvases painting landscapes. He's got stories from his 20 odd years on the road that you wouldn't believe. He was laid up in Olympos with a stomach virus after spending who knows how long out in Kurdistan (southeastern Turkey where the population is predominately Kurdish), enjoying run-ins with the PKK while painting Mount Ararat and Lake Van. No joke, this guy.

Most travelers come to Turkey to see three things: the city of Istanbul, the region of Capadoccia, and the southern coast. Since we'll be here for a month, we can afford to do all that and more. So yesterday we left Olympos on a bus headed north into a relatively uncharted part of Turkey known as Lakeland, to a small town called Egirdir. It took five buses and a taxi, but we made it.

Egirdir is situated on Turkey's second largest freshwater lake (it's enormous). The setting is spectacular, but the town doesn't see many tourists. Here's your proof. Within moments of arriving here, we got our first taste of what it feels like to be really, really stared at. People are certainly friendly, but bewildered by our presence. I've been wearing my long skirt and keeping my shoulders covered, but my flip-flops might as well be sticks of dynamite. The blonde hair is another source of fascination. Little kids point at my head as if I have two of them. I may go dark once I can find a decent salon in Istanbul.

Speaking of hair, Brendan paid a berber (Turkish barber) to cut his off today. His curls were getting long and the heat was driving him crazy. It was a traumatic experience for both of us. But hair grows back, and it's been fun saluting Private Moran every time he walks into a room.

Vitals:
chicken shish: 3000 lira
trip to the berber: 5000 lira
timed camera shutters: priceless

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Free Turkish Wi-Fi, God Love Ya

UPDATE: PHOTOS ADDED!!

Greetings from Turkey! I never thought I'd be saying that.

Getting here was easy. We left Rhodes at 8 am Monday morning and I was on the ferry before I really ever woke up. An hour's ride and we were docking in Marmaris, Turkey. I wondered what the visa situation would be like beforehand, but it was pretty much a cluster of backpackers having to pay around $20 each for a passport sticker. No one was being turned away. Awesome.

We thought about staying in Marmaris (a big resort town in the southwest if you look on a map), but decided to press on. And it just so happened that a bus was leaving for Fethiye, our final destination, at 10 am. Score.

I'd heard some horror stories about Turkish bus travel, and was braced for the worst (getting hassled for being a loose American woman with no moral values, etc). I was pleasantly surprised to find the bus clean, the driver and attendants friendly and polite, and some battery power left in my iPod to pass the three-hour journey through the hills. Obviously having my husband sitting next to me didn't hurt, either.

Travel Tip: The Yeah Yeah Yeahs' "Fever to Tell" works well as a Turkish soundtrack. Who knew?

My first impression of Turkey? Looks a little like Tahoe (Brendan thought Colorado). Lots of rocky mountains and trees. I like the sound of Turkish being spoken. It's softer than Greek.

We arrived in Fethiye around 1 pm and caught a taxi to a pansiyon (like a budget hotel/hostel) we'd already booked ahead of time. I'm not gonna lie, the rooms here are a little rough. But wouldn't you know it.. the owner's cat just had a litter of kittens, so you won't hear any complaints from me.

The city of Fethiye is lovely, and more westernized than I thought it'd be. You've got your mosques and Islamic prayers blaring out of street side speakers, but you've got your bikini shops and lively bars, too. I think there's a lot of European coastal influence going on. The folks who live here are a lot closer to the party islands of Greece than they are to Istanbul. Then again, they're also closer to Cairo.

Even though we won't be taking advantage of it, I get a real kick out of reminding myself that I'm on vacation in a country that borders Iraq.

(And by kick I mean it gives me the willies. I feel it necessary to spell it out after a couple commenters accused me of being unsympathetic toward those involved with the war... which is complete horseshit.)

Yesterday B and I got a wild hair to do some hiking. We heard about an old ghost town up in the hills about 7 km. away, so at about 10 am we headed in that direction, climbing first above Fethiye, then into the wilderness. The road was well-paved and we were passed by an occasional truck or scooter, so I never got creeped out. At least not until we stumbled upon that cemetery in the woods. Seriously.

Eventually we reached Kaya Koyu and it was awesome to see the old "ghost" town built into the hill, still intact, above the "new" town below it in the valley. The story goes that during the Greco-Turkish war in the early 1900s, Kaya Koku was cleansed of its Greek Orthodox population as part of a "population exchange." Basically anyone living in Turkey at the time who was either Greek or of Greek Orthodox faith was bounced right on out of the country, or just killed outright (same for Turks living in Greece). Those that were left in Kaya Koyu eventually moved out too, thus creating a real ghost town that's still standing today. It's eerie, but neat to explore.

Once we were all ghost towned out, we took another hike over another set of mountains to find the famous Oludeniz beach of which we'd seen a million photographs. In hindsight, this decision should have been a little more thought out, as around hour five the two hikers in question started to get cranky. However, it was all worth it once the forest cleared and we got our first views of the water. Delicious!

Turns out that on Tuesdays in Fethiye there's an enormous bazaar, or farmer's market, buzzing in the middle of town, which gave us something to do today. It's hard to explain how big this sucker was- a complete, utter zoo. Lots of fresh fruits and samples. I bought myself an ankle-length skirt to replace the mid-thigh skirt I've come to realize just doesn't do me any favors among the scarved heads. I'm certainly not the only tourist who's inadequately covered up, but I'd rather blend than offend on someone else's turf.

I think it's going to be a lazy night here at the pansiyon. It's been raining on and off all day, and we've done our share of walking in the last 48 hours. Brendan's been a video recording machine throughout, so you'll see all this soon enough.

By the way, we've gotten some interest on our video podcast already, and The Traveling Morans may be appearing on your cable box in some form in the near future. More details to come.

Vitals:
Room with A/C at the Ferah Pension: 25,000 lira (around $17)
Five bananas at the Tuesday bazaar: 3,000 lira
Overdosing on kitten cuteness: priceless