Greece - Athens

Greece - Athens - July 19-21, 2008

Snoozing a bit on the ferry from Mykonos, Tom and I woke with a start when the kids in front of us started screaming. Didn't they know we'd been up all night in a club? How rude.


So sleep continued to escape us and we disembarked at the lovely Rafina port on the mainland where we had spent our first night in Greece. The bus trip this time involved less gazing out the window at the charming white buildings, all complete with solar panels on top, and more gazing into space just trying to keep it together. We were tired.

Under normal circumstances, the approach and curiosity of the young bus conductor (that's right, Greek buses have conductors) would have been more than welcome, but his interest caught me at the wrong time and I could only muster a tenth of my normal happy chatter. But still, he was entertaining.

"Your American elections are very interesting. I really wanted John Kerry to win four years ago. I think he is great."

"Really, why is that?"

"He is a war hero. He fought very well in Vietnam."

"So do you like John McCain?"

"No no. He has bad ideas. More wars with John McCain. Barack Obama will be the best thing for America."

So there you have it. A man who idolized Kerry for being a war hero seemed to not have the same appeal for McCain. The Democrats should have gotten him to speak at the convention.

His knowledge of the details of American politics was overwhelming. He knew how many days till the general election, listed off most of the likely VP candidates (a few that Tom and I had to admit we didn't know ourselves), and even spoken in detail about Bill Clinton's 1999 visit to the country, the first for an American president in a long time. In checking this fact, I came across the following article, apparently the lead up to this trip was quite eventful, so perhaps many Greeks remember it well. Do any of the Americans out there? I certainly didn't.

Regardless, it was mostly facts and figures that he focused on, clearly the area where he was more talented, but his enthusiasm was charming and he kindly walked us to the subway when we arrived in Athens. As we said goodbye I gave him my most generous smile in hopes that our exhaustion and sour moods didn't dampen his idealism, and we headed down to the brightly lit subway. Coincidentally, it was build for the 2004 Olympics, a foreshadow of my upcoming visit to Beijing for the 2008 Olympics.


When our train arrived, we clamored on board a car that had most seats filled, but not many people standing. I attempted to bring my massive backpack to a bit of space away from the door, but a bulky young Greek in front of me clearly wanted to stay put. So I squeezed on, with Tom finding a bit more room off to my left.

I didn't notice the hand in the left cargo pocket of my shorts for a second, but quickly my security reflexes kicked in and in a flash I realized I was in the middle of the "unnecessary crowding" scam that I'd read about before. The unmovable man was the accomplice, holding me in place and generally looking imposing enough to keep my attention. His smaller, less obvious associate to my left was the pickpocket, and they used my confusion to their advantage.

This flash turned into a reaction, and I swiped my hand down in an attempt to grab his wrist. I missed. But since he was standing so close, I found instead his crotch and figured his balls were the next best thing.

It worked, because when I gave him a firm squeeze, his hand shot out of my pocket and he started spewing Greek in my direction - obviously saying the Greek version of "you just grabbed my balls," which I'm sure gave the other passengers on the train plenty of entertainment. I pretended to not understand, I checking myself over - camera, money, etc all still in tact (my passport and credit cards are always in a money belt), I shrugged, tapped the bigger one on the shoulder and gave him a look that showed I'd won and he was going to move.

Not quite sure how they'd messed up such an easy target, he obliged and at the next station we all departed, where Tom finally was able to ask what the hell was going on. "Well, I guess I grabbed his balls. And he wasn't too happy about it."

Relieved, we checked into our hotel and slept for 15 hours straight.

Athens - For Real This Time

The next day, we did the speed tour of Athens, starting with the slightly odd changing of the guards at Parliament.


After, we wandered through the city, stopping quickly at the Panathenaic Stadium built in 1896 for the first modern Olympics (see pic above), Hadrian's Arch and the Temple of the Olympian Zeus. But the highlight was definitely the Acropolis with it's magnificent Doric temple - the Parthenon.


This hilltop structure towers over Athens and can be seen from nearly every neighborhood. Our Lonely Planet tells us that inside are the remains of the golden Statue of Zeus at Olympia, one of the original Seven Ancient Wonders of the World. Though we weren't allowed in, we felt we were close enough that we could tick off our second of the seven, after seeing the pyramids two weeks before.


The heat, however, was astounding, and knocked me out more than a typical day of touring would normally do. So we opted for a quick dinner and a treat that is unique to Athens - an open air movie theater. Nothing like an American drive-in, this theater was on top of an old building and had a stunning view of the Parthenon, all light up in the night sky. And, to our joy, it was showing the new Batman film...in English! Outstanding.

Also, I have to say thanks a million to Tom for joining me on the first five weeks of my journey. He was the best imaginable travel companion, and I don't think I would have made it through Africa without his humor and impressive patience. Best of luck in the new job buddy!!


The next morning, Tom headed for the airport and I hopped on another high-speed ferry bound for the Greece/Turkey border expecting adventure at every turn.

Greece - The Cyclades

Greece - The Cyclades - July 12-19, 2008

Over the course of the three years I was in London, my impression of the Cyclades, the most famous collection of Greek islands, changed from the idealistic, clear-watered honeymoon destination that Americans often think of; to the drunken, Cancun-like destination that I feared the young Brits had made it into.

I found that both were true depending on which island you find yourself on. We did see a few honeymooners and enjoyed idealistic beaches, but also encountered the kind of debauchery you usually only read about (not encountered entirely first hand, of course).

Outside of the obvious draws of beaches, amazing food, and relaxed atmosphere, Tom and I had a good reason to go to Greece at this point in our trip - my friends Kara and Alyssa had organized 18 friends to meet on the island of Syros, hop on two sailboats, and head off for a week of sailing in the Cyclades. We thought this would be the perfect feather in our adventure cap. Plus, it would give me a chance to relax and recover after almost a month in Africa and before diving into the next big portion of my trip in the Middle East. We were right that it was an amazing end to Tom's journey, but it was way too much fun to be a simple relaxing beach holiday for me. Maybe I'll recover on another continent.


Syros

We met the group at the docks on Syros and started to become acquainted with Thomas, our French captain, and the tiny cabin where Tom and I would share the next six nights. Cozy. Our minuscule hostel rooms suddenly looked palatial, but waking each day to the sound and sight of crystal clear water sparkling in the morning sun made it worth it.


Upon arrival, we were told that we were "stuck" on Syros for a few days since the winds were at first non-existent, and then instantly too strong. Apparently that is a common problem in the Mediterranean, and as we were excited to get out on the open water, it kinda took the wind out of our sails. But we were still on this gorgeous, peaceful island, so remembering this, we cheered up and life didn't seem so bad.

Instead of sailing, we rented scooters and headed out to explore. This was my first scooter experience, and despite a few wobbles, I did pretty well and never felt more Greek in my life. Tom, however, never felt more American as he made his way out of the driveway of the shop his balance was thrown off (I think by a passing bee) and he toppled over with the owner looking on, yelling - "WHY?? WHY??" as if we killed his puppy. The scooter was fine, but Tom's foot was scrapped up and needed some mending. Soon after, we were at the beach enjoying the never-ending Greek sun and our friend Matt returned from a swim with a report that a stingray had taken a liking to his forearm. An inauspicious start to our sailing, but a good chance for me to break out my impressive medical kit - happy it wasn't me that needed attention!

Paros

We finally sailing a bit on the third day, spending a day and night on the stunning island of Paros. If someone were to ask me for a recommendation of a honeymoon destination, this would be it. The quintessential "white Cyclades" style housing is in full effect here, creating a warm, clean effect in the winding alleys of the main village. We had dinner in the courtyard of a restaurant where the friendly owner made recommendations and plied us with smiles, ouzo, and lemoncello at the end of the meal.

Naxos

The next island, Naxos, was my favorite. As the winds had died again, we were once again stuck for a few days, and I was thrilled. Naxos has a lot of the same while painted stone buildings, but seemed to be half the price of Paros, and had none of the pretension.


After the excitement of our scooter experience on Syros, we opted for safer four-wheel ATVs and set off to explore the island.

Winding our way through a number of country villages with stunning views of the sea, we stopped at a slightly secluded portion of the beach that one guy had taken note of during his early morning ride.

Coming over the dunes, we saw the reason he was keen to return - two women were standing in full view, with no apprehension, completely naked. It was, of course, a nude beach and despite several of the guy's "when in Greece comments, our group wasn't yet European enough to join in. We sunbathed for a bit while the girls giggled at the men strutting along the water with the flags flying free, until the winds picked up and we decided to hit the road.

Heading into the upper reaches of Naxo's impressive mountains, we finally reached our destination - a 6th century BC marble statue, the pride of Naxos. Turning the corner into the statue's courtyard, Tom remarked, "where is it?" Turns out, it was a statue that had fallen over, broke it's leg, and was left by the sculptors. Now it looks like a vague shape of a drunken man passed out on a slope in the woods. After seeing the pyramids only a week before, we were definitely not impressed. But I thought it was quaint that Naxos would celebrate this discarded relic.

The hunt for the statue, however, lead us to one of Naxos' real treats - the marble quarry. This is the same quarry that has been providing almost all of Greece's marble for thousands of years. It was completely unexpected - in full view from the road, it looked as if they are gradually chopping off the top of the mountain, the way I can remember my Earth Science teacher describing the way "a zit looks when you shave over it."

To top off a great day, we followed the recommendation from the guy in the boat next to ours and headed even further into the hills to the most incredible little village I've ever seen. It had similar white buildings and windy cobbled streets, but appeared as if tourists rarely came this far, which made us finally feel like we were getting a taste of real Greek island culture. It's magnificent. Long dinners of rich food shared with the table - Greek salads, tzatziki, lovely grilled meats, olives - and lively conversation give way to a few glasses of ouzo and last past midnight, even with the kids still running through the streets playing games with the cats. Our dinner was hands down the best I've had on my trip, enjoyed with a quality bottle of Greek wine, of course. Feeling cozy and welcomed in Greece, we woke before sunrise to excellent winds for our long sail to Mykonos with the boat tilting at an incredible angle for much of the trip.


Mykonos

We arrived early, but on Mykonos there is no early or late, and the music was already pumping from the clubs on Paradise beach. Mykonos is one of the islands that made my list of "spoiled by British teens," but we still had a lot of fun. The beaches are certainly worthy of praise and though it was significantly more crowded than other islands, at the right time you can still find a bit of peace.

After the peace of Naxos, a bold club called Space was not where I wanted to spend my night. So we made our way out of town to the edge of Paradise beach, near where our boat was docked. There, we found Cavo Paradiso - a famous club where celebrity DJ David Morales started spinning after midnight for the full moon party. After the early morning sail, I only had energy to make it until about 5:30, but couldn't make it for the climax of sunup. Tom was there though all the way with fists pumping...very impressive! The next morning, beyond weary, we got on fast boat back to Athens for Tom's last days.

Kenya

Kenya - July 4-5

Before I leave Africa, (on the blog at least, in real life I'm in Beijing!) I feel compelled to mention a few thoughts on our brief visit to Kenya, and specifically Nairobi where we went at the end of our safari. Looking at Kenya during my research for this trip, my impressions were fleeting images of the bustling city with it's Kibera slum, one of the largest in the world, and the rural tribes (esp. Masai) that lived hand in hand with the land and animals.

More recently, the news of Kenya was dominated by the botched elections and widespread violence as a result, something the press and foreign governments were taking very seriously since prior to this Kenya has had a fairly peaceful period of democracy. Clearly tensions had built up with the members of other tribes feeling that the ruling Kikuyu tribe was playing favorites, and, unfortunately, it boiled over and turned deadly for many.

With all of this in mind, Tom, Vicky (my British travel agent), and I had ruled out a visit to Kenya, even though all the safaris in neighboring Tanzania seemed to be booked up. When we finally found one that was free but started and finished in Nairobi, we decided to find ways to manage the risks and go for it as it was primarily in Tanzania so if things got worse, we could change our plans and fly instead of driving through Kenya.

We continued watching the news, and things gradually improved, greatly relieving my mind, but also peaking my interest in a place that has one of Africa's strongest economies and is clearly the transport hub for East Africa. Plus, Barack Obama's dad is from there, so it seems there's a 50/50 chance Kenya will continue to get a disproportionate amount of attention of the world stage.

Only spending one day in Nairobi, we were still able to learn a lot from our mainly Kenyan safari crew. I found particularly interesting the comparison between neighbors Tanzania and Kenya. On the surface they appear quite similar - developing countries with strong tribal backgrounds, both ruled by the British and gaining independence in the early 1960's within 2 years of each other, both with similar natural resources and beautiful coastlines. But Kenya is clearly far ahead in terms of development.

I posed this difference to Francis, our bright, young safari guide, and he offered a simple answer. From the beginning of independence, the Kenyans have mostly focused on a democratic and capitalist government, while Tanzania spend many years fumbling with socialism. Granted, everything in Kenya isn't roses, as the recent riots made quite clear, but a day in Nairobi was filled with smart looking, healthy people and a city that has a sense of a recent boom, while a day in Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania, is filled with a glimmer of hope, but mostly the sights of worn down people looking to the prominent NGO's to help them make any kind of progress.

That democratic history has served Kenya well, while Tanzania's socialist past seems to continue holding it back. I haven't seen too many socialist countries yet, but this is a good case study of the clear benefits of democracy. A pattern that continues, and I'll be curious to see how it develops when my trip takes me to several countries in South America that are struggling with the rise of socialism at the moment.

Not to over state things, Tom and I certainly were nervous about entering Kenya where as we cheered our arrival in Tanzania, but both turned out to be without incident for us, our fears completely overblown. Perhaps I'll look a bit deeper next time before making early assumptions.

Egypt

Egypt - July 5-12

Baksheesh, the Persian word for tip or bribe, was the thing that stood out for me most in Egypt. It was in the background of every site we visited, every interaction we had, and everything we took joy in. We came across police officers who would offer to have their picture taken with us for baksheesh and pyramid guards selling the destruction of their national treasure for less than a dollar at a time by letting tourists take pictures of aging tombs.

Not that this wasn't expected, but the extent of the baksheesh culture in Egypt tainted any positive interaction we had while we were there. On time in particular, a friendly policeman at the main train station in Cairo helped us for 25 minutes to call our hostel and then get a cab at a fair rate. Grateful after a long overnight train journey from Luxor, I went to tip him, as he was obviously due, and he declined giving us a look of disgust and disappointment. I suppose he was the one clean police officer in Egypt.

The thing I hated was that there seemed to be no rules. In Morocco, where I cut my teeth in baksheesh-ville, there was at least a clear protocol that people followed: any specific request from someone on the street costs you money. Want to know what the weather will be like tomorrow? 50 cents. Want help getting to your hotel? 1 dollar. Just saying hello and commenting on the nice weather? That's free. Egypt just felt like chaos. It seems to have no rules, no protocol to follow. So you are always on your guard, ready to defend against the forces of baksheesh.


It's Amazing Because It's True

But it is CHEAP. Even after spending a month in other parts of Africa, Tom and I were still amazed. On our final day, I set myself an Amazing Race-like goal of getting a haircut, buying a local newspaper (to pack some of the many gifts we bought there) and take-away lunch for me and Tom in less than 1 hour for under 5 dollars.

First, I stopped at a nearby barber recommended by my hostel. I waited outside while he finished his prayers on a small carpet in the corner of the shop, and he graciously welcomed me inside while I mimed what I would like done to my head. His shaky hands and rusty scissors made me worry about the possible state of my hear at the end, but he was fine and 2 dollars later I was looking quite sharp and on to the next challenge.

We had apparently stayed on the edge of the auto parts district of Cairo because as I wandered the streets all I found were shops with spare parts and broken down taxis. After miming newspaper to 8 different people (quite difficult actually, I suggest you try this one at home first), I finally got through to someone and was directed to a smiling lady who offered me an illegible copy of the Crazy Cairo Chronicle (I'm guessing) with a stern looking Nicolas Sarkozy on the front, presumably because of some recent visit to Egypt. So, for 12 cents, I was off for lunch with 25 minutes to spare.

During my auto parts maze tour, I spotted a local pizza place that looked appetizing, if a bit odd. The oven was set outside in an alley next to the shop and the "chef" would prepare the pizza before handing it to two boys who stood out in the head and cooked the pizzas. I hopefully ordered two vegetarian pizzas, and waiting about 20 minutes in confusion with a portly young Egyptian. Eventually, our pizzas finished and I pointed to the two most vegetarian looking pies when asked which I would prefer. Wrapped up in clean newspaper, like fish & chips in London, I smiled and handed over the $1.20 requested for the two pizzas.

Strolling back into the hostel, I smiled and announced my success - I'd made it back in an hour and a bit (I got a few minutes leeway for "Egyptian time") and with $1.58 left to spare.

It's How Old??

Cairo is, of course, a crazy place. The greater city has almost 18 million people who all seem to be moving about at once 24 hours a day. We arrived at 1am and our driver promptly got into a car accident. Everyone was fine since we were still in the parking lot, but when 25 people materialized and all seemed to want to take the lead in the negotiations that followed, I knew this wasn't an ordinary city.

Our hostel, the Wake Up! Cairo, was only $11 per person for our private room with en-suite bathroom. Peter, one of the young, entrepreneurial owners, had been working like many in the tourism business for a while and saw starting the hostel as a way to make his mark. His quirky humor often came on a bit strong ("Take the shower, don't let it take you!!"), but he was infinitely helpful and even brought us to his favorite sheesha cafe one night. After several glasses of tea and some serious lessons in the art of dominoes in the brightly lit alleyway that had been taken over by the cafe, we were really starting to feel the warmth of the Egyptian people.

Our first stop was the famed Egyptian museum, only steps from our hostel. Expecting to see the history and grandeur of the vast and incredible history in the country's foremost collection, what we got instead was a dimly lit, boiling hot jumble of confusing artifacts with little to no labeling. Our guidebook, the only source of information we were able to gather together, interestingly commented on how many of the "really" important works were kept by the British Museum (i.e. the Rosetta Stone), and weren't being returned despite Egypt's insistence. But looking at the state of the items in the museum, I wondered if it was actually better for Britain to just keep them. At least the security guards in London weren't offering to let you to touch it for good luck. While it was a marvel to see 5000 year old painted statues and the amazing mask and sarcophagus from King Tutankhamun's tomb, the experience of the museum was without a doubt the worst I've ever seen.

Slightly depressed after our big let down, we made our way back out in the oppressive heat of the Cairo streets to see if we could find something better. The next day we did, and it came in the form of Giza.


The pyramids are the only remaining of the 7 Ancient Wonders of the World. The magnitude and glory of the Sphynx and three enormous pyramids, aligned perfectly along their south east corners, made our jaws drop. We bought another ticket to go inside the Great Pyramid and, though there wasn't much to see but a rectangular room with an empty sarcophagus, just the idea that we were climbing INSIDE a pyramid was an absolute thrill. Our guidebook told us that Napoleon had spent a night inside one of the pyramids and was shaken to the core by the experience.

After boiling in the sun and sand all morning, Tom and I had a nice lunch at a shady cafe looking at the Sphynx and the pyramids - what we agreed must have been one of the greatest lunchtime views in the world.


That evening, we headed to the train station to catch the 10-hour overnight train to Luxor. We'd arranged the trip with Peter, and for $210 we were provided:
- two overnight train journeys
- one night in a 3-star hotel (which turned out to be the nicest place I've stayed in so far on the trip....complete with a rooftop pool & bar!)
- taxis to and from all destinations
- a private tour guide around the sites of Luxor for the afternoon of our first day and the full day following
- a "dinner cruise" upon our return to Cairo (more on this later)

By my humble estimation, it is the deal of the century. Having a private guide for the amazingly well preserved temples and tombs around Luxor made the experience massively better than the Cairo museum. Perhaps with a guide there we would be singing a different tune, I'm not sure. The pair of temples we visited on the East bank of the Nile continued to prove the ancient Egyptians love for extremely large constructions and statues (hence...colossus). The engravings on the walls of the Karnak temple were particularly interesting and sometimes entertaining. Our guide told us the story of Min, easy to spot amongst the other Gods.

During one great war, Min hid while all the other men in the city went off to fight. He happily found himself alone and happy in a city full of women and went to work, eventually impregnating most of the women in the city. When the pharaoh found out, he returned to the city and punished the Min by cutting off his arm, leg, and in particular his offending appendage. But when his pieces were buried, the land sprouted trees. Subsequently, the Egyptian army was decimated, but luckily all the women gave birth to sons, escalating this deserter to the status of the God of Fertility.


We then saw several tombs in the Valley of the Kings with elaborate wall paintings depicting all of the stuff the pharaohs thought they would need when they returned for the after-life. Our final tomb was at about 3pm and the trip was short, as the temperature inside was probably the hottest I'd ever felt (I'm guessing 120 degrees) and extremely humid from all those darn breathing tourists. But the whole place was fascinating and gave us the chance to get a feel for what the culture was like for such an ancient, but advanced civilization.


Two Left Feet

After traveling for almost a month at this point, I finally made my first big cultural mistake.

On our last night in Cairo, we thought we'd relax and enjoy ourselves with a classic tourist trap - the dinner cruise on the Nile (mentioned above as part of our package from Peter). Rather than the fun, jovial evening of a booze cruise that we expected, the three of us (Tom, me, and a girl we'd met earlier at our hostel) found ourselves in the center function room with a bunch of middle aged tourists, a mediocre buffet, and drinks 10 times the normal price. I suppose that's what you get at a tourist trap.

After dinner, they started "the show." Initially it was two bored looking guys doing a silly traditional Egyptian dance to the super cheesy band. I was sat right next to the accordion player. Next came out the big number - a marginally attractive woman doing a dance that I suppose was meant to be belly dancing. Really, all she did was shimmy a bit and get the Japanese tourists to come up with her, shake their shoulders and get their picture taken.

After 15 or 20 minutes of this, the manager, who had been sitting at our table for the whole show, gets the singer/MC guy to pull the girl who was with us onto the dance floor. A few laughs later, she sneaks back to the table unscathed - except for the video that the manager took of her dancing that he proudly showed each of us. Creepy.

Having been sat almost on the dance floor, I was the next obvious target. So, despite my objections, I was pulled on stage to have a dance with the lady. As often happens when I stand up, the dancer expressed the usual surprise that I was at least a foot taller than her. So she encourages me to crouch down to her level, which I do while attempting to still look cool (and clearly failing).

After that, I think that to be fair, she should have the chance to see what things were like at my level. So I pick her up, do a little spin, and set her back down again gently. All to the cheers of the Japanese tourists. Or so I thought. If you've been to this type of show in a Muslim country before, you probably know what comes next.

From the look on her face, I first thought I'd ripped her costume, but when the band completely stopped and everyone on the floor took one large step back from me, I realized that I had done something much worse.

Sitting back with my friends, the manager informs me that touching the lady is not allowed (other than her hands apparently). My mistake (obvious in retrospect, of course) turned a switch on the mood of the whole room from boisterous to sedate. The dance scurried off backstage - to perform some cleansing ritual Tom jokingly tells me, and the whirling dervish man - the one with the colorful spinning skirt - comes on.

I chatted a bit more with the manager, apologizing profusely and making a show of shaking his hand so the other guests could see he had forgiven me. Shortly after, I slipped out of the main room to take a breather on the top deck of the boat and take in the sights along the Nile. I see the manager again on the way up and he tells me the bounce was pretty upset, but he was able to "calm him down" by explaining that in my culture that type of behavior is acceptable. Probably not true, but it helped my cause and I wasn't going to correct him. When I joked that I was happy they didn't decide to throw me in the Nile, he shot me a look that made me think it was discussed.

Later, I received a bit more comfort when he invited us back in for the dancer's second act, saying, "She will change outfit. It's VERY nice, you will love it!" And soon after we had a laugh when the beaming ship's photographer came over to us with an 8 by 10 inch photo of me and the dancer mid-spin. I decided this wasn't one memory I was willing to pay $6 to capture forever. But I did pass along some baksheesh to the manager for the dancer, and he seemed quite content.

In the end, the manager asked me if the pretty girl we were with was my girlfriend. I told him she wasn't and that I didn't have a girlfriend. So, with a straight face, he gave me some advice:
"I think you should get one."