So apparently I'm supposed to start these blogs off by satirizing some goofy social niche or cultural ambiguity that I have probably misinterpretted during my travels. So who should I make fun of? Well there's certainly the classic Asian tourist jab, which varies slightly along the lines of sightseeing hordes and such excessive photography that I sometimes wish technology would degress from digital back to film and limit the sheer superfluousness of capturing 1000 moments a day, only to force some terrible photo-sharing session upon friends who really don't care about what a Bulgarian bus station looks like or how "well-traveled" you are.
What else? There is the classic Turkish clubber douchebag that I really only thought existed in bad movies and places like Miami- full on Adidas starter suit, gold chains, suave shades, and enough hair gel to oil the machine that operates these ridiculous human beings.
hmmm? How about the American study-abroaders... naw, I won't touch that one, too easy and too many friends may get mad at me.
And last but not least? Well the pretentious traveler of course- the one that makes ridiculous cultural generalizations based on a seven day experience that consists of social confinement with other westerners who are all the richest "poor" people in the world. It's ok, I'm allowed to make fun of myself.
Hello Everyone!
I am currently sitting at a computer located in a hostel, in Sultanamet, in Istanbul (at the time of writing... not anymore), in Turkey, in Europe/Asia, in the world. Sorry for the loquacious introduction and I will attempt to make this blog as short, concise, and absolutely boring as possible.
I believe I cut my last blog off when I was residing in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Hercegovina (which will now only be referred to as Bosnia... sorry Hercegovina), which was an absolutely eye-opening firsthand experience, revealing the complete failure of the UN during the siege from 1992-1995. During that span, in Sarajevo alone, 11,000 civilians were killed due to the constant shelling of the Bosnian capital by the radical Serbs under Milosevich. I'm not implying that the ethnic cleansing genocide was the UN's fault, but it would have been very easy to bomb the Serbian outposts, as opposed to splitting half of all the relief supplies with them during the peacekeeping (not peacemaking- big difference) missions. Anyway, checkout the movie "Welcome to Sarajevo" if you haven't already seen it (don't worry, Woody Harrelson is in it, thank god).
Sarajevo was my first introduction to the fascinating, strange, and borderline ridiculous customs and culture of the Muslim world (uh oh, my blog will now be banned from the Turkish internet, like they did with Youtube). Call me insensitive, callous, or just plain atheistic, but obnoxiously loud prayers amplified from minarets six times a day across the entire city is just annoying. However, I am careful not to imply that it isn't interesting. It's wildly foreign to me and for this reason, I do feel a sense of appreciation for all the strange Islamic norms. Way to go gang!
Outside of my attempts to piece together the formerly unknown history of the former Yugoslavia, I found plenty of time to drink Rakija and eat some tasty local cuisine that in no way resembled any form of pizza. The nightlife was absolutely vibrant in Sarajevo- I couldn't tell if everyone was making up for the lost years during the war or still celebrating the end of it, but either way, Bosnia spells Party with a capital P. Privileged with the presence of a great partyteam from the hostel, come nightfall, we took the town by force (probably not the best metaphor to use in Sarajevo) and I didn't stop dancing until every girl was either scared of me or too embarassed for me, and dammit... I'm gonna thank Rakija for that. All in all, I left Bosnia with some terrific memories, new historical knowledge, and plenty of photos... And what did I contribute? Free dancing lessons for anybody that crossed my path. You're welcome Bosnia.
Leaving Bosnia marks the beginning of what I have deemed my (Han)solo mission. Definitely Montenegro and partially Macedonia are extremely lively tourist destinations during the summer and for good reason. However, as I am often reminded by dumbstruck tour guides and museum workers, "It's winter. Why are you traveling here during winter?" Thanks guys, I am aware of the season. Anyway, I did not meet any other backpackers and definitely not any locals which meant there was practically no partying for about a week during my stay there. Considering how absolutely beautiful Montenegro was, this was not at all a problem.
Although I have no real statistics on this subject, I believe that Montenegro WILL be the next primary summer tourist destination in all of eastern Europe. It boasts a plethora of beautiful fjords that consist of luxurious-style sandy beaches that carefully arrange themselves among the small landscapes dividing the bluest of Adriatic waters with rocky cliffs filled with historical forts and citadels. More importantly? It lacks the absurd western European prices of similar picturesque places like Dubrovnik, Croatia. Plus, now that Montenegro has disconnected itself with the burden of atrocious Serbian history, it is set to make a name for itself (and join the EU). Russia has already discovered this secret beauty and has begun developing the shit out of it, mostly to the dismay of locals. You really should experience Montenegro, and at the very least, don't forget about it- IT WILL BE BIG (in a tourist sense, not politically).
OK, maybe I should clarify myself here... coastal Montenegro is beyond beautiful, mostly the two towns I stayed in, Kotor and Budva. This clarification is incredibly necessary because the next and last stop in Montenegro was the inland capital of Podgorica, which probably only about 100 people in all of western society could say anything about at all. I'll tell you right now, it sucks (no I'm not lying in order to protect the anonymity of this 'secret gem'). Unfortunately for me (and yes I was not traveling with anyone else), I misinterpreted the bus schedule and was forced into spending an entire day in this boring excuse of capital. Little did I know this was just the beginning of an agonizing 36 hour journey to Skopje, Macedonia.
Anyway, after roaming around Podgorica for a few hours, I quickly discovered that there were no movie theaters (I would have watched anything, in any language), no internet cafes, no parks, and only one cafe, which served beer thank god. I ended up planting myself at that little Montenegran cafe for 6 straight hours, which completely baffled the ladies working there, understandably. Anyway, I got to level 42 on vortex on my iPod, which is pretty dam impressive (it means I had 6 hours to kill). After what seemed like forever in Podgorica, I boarded the Macedonian-bound bus, and planned on only waking up twice, once at the Kosovo border and once at the Macedonian border.
In fact, I woke up 3 times. The bus broke-down in Kosovo; and no, this was not the happiest moment of my trip. At first, I was concerned that the bus driver would simply kick everyone off the bus and force everyone to organize their own means of transportation to Macedonia, which considering the abundance of friends I have in Kosovo (sarcasm)... yikes. Thankfully, after a few cold hours at the side of a road in the Kosovoan darkness, another bus picked us up (not everyone has friends in Kosovo apparently) and took us to Pristina, the capital city. Ahhhh... Pristina, what did I have to look forward to in the newest capital city in the world? Bill Clinton. Bill Clinton Boulevard accompanied with the newly erected statue of slick willy.
Unfortunately, my moods and joy for political cynicism were not as high then as I am making them sound in retrospect. No I didn't see Bill Clinton, it was too dark and early in the morning, and sleeping at the bus station seemed more appealing than visiting a metallic 10 meter-high version of the 42nd president. Shit, I would have rather slept at that bus station than meet the real Bill Clinton (no offense Willy, I was tired).
Finally I arrived in Macedonia. Skopje is a very very average capital city with an absolutely amazingly awesome flag. Food and drink were similar to the rest of the Balkans and I met a lot of children who seemed really interested in my money. Moving on.
Bulgaria in a nutshell= pizza. Pizza is ubiquitous in Sofia and it is entirely delicious. What else? All in all, Sofia is another pretty average capital city that boasts a few beautiful churches (however, after traveling for nearly 4 months at this point, I've become sort of a 'churchsnob' and it requires an awful lot to impress me). The charming memorability of my Sofia experience really permeates from arguably the best hostel I stayed at on the trip. Give me good friends, good atmosphere, good pizza, and plenty of beer and I will have a great experience in any city, regardless of its aesthetic beauty or tourism accessories. If you choose to go to Sofia, make sure to avoid nodding 'yes' or 'no' (it's backwards there, which might be the most confusing thing in the world) and get ready to start putting ketchup on your pizza (yep, it's true), and you'll be ready to go.
My second to last city was Veliko Tarnovo, in Bulgaria. VT is a stunning little college town that may very well be the coolest city in Eastern Europe. I really think that this city is too beautiful to be articulated in words (or maybe I'm just getting lazy and tired of writing), so I will simply post a few pictures and leave VT at that.
Lastly, I spent my final week in Istanbul, Turkey. Although I am currently in China finishing this way-too-long blog, I truly miss Istanbul, including all the lovely faces I met, the stunning mosque-filled skylines, the Turkish bathhouse, and most importantly... Kebabs. I ate kebabs for every lunch, brunch, snack, dinner, drunken munchie... and dammit, if I had ever woken up in time for breakfast, I would have had a kebab. Along with a couple other Americans from the hostel, we ventured into a Turkish bathhouse one day and I am still a little confused as to whether that was a massage or a complete manhandling by some mustached Turkish guy (while I was naked of course). Regardless, exfoliating my skin and receiving a very VERY aggressive massage after a half hour in the granite sauna felt superb, especially after 4 months of taking very sub-par care of my body.
Anyway, I'm tired, you're probably bored, and it's well past my bedtime here on my newly acquired queen-size mattress that sits on the floor of Chase's living room in Shanghai. Spending the holidays in China with Chase were wonderful and I sincerely hope that everyone else had a hell of a time, wherever you may be. I miss everyone so much, and as pathetic and lame as it may be, I'm sad that I can no longer use Facebook (its censored here)to stay updated on everyone's (who used Facebook that is) lives. I always appreciate an email here or there. Hearts, Farts, and Kisses XO
> Also, my next blog will be a biography. Living Proof of the New American-Chinese Dream: the saga of Chase Larson.
Cheers
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