I thought I’d get better about putting up blog posts once I left Nepal; turns out I’m still as busy as ever, and only getting lazier as the trip goes on. But with a 5 hour ferry ride back to Athens ahead of me, I’ve finally got some time to sit and do this justice… so here it goes.

It’s hard to believe it’s been less than two weeks since Abdulla left! Time – and the trip – has really moved on. So far, I’ve had no trouble doing Europe on my own. I also haven’t had too much trouble with loneliness – at least not yet. I’m discovering that buses and ticket lines are great places to meet strangers, even if just for a quick chat. I’ve also been doing more chatting with family and friends from home, which is a big help. That, combined with the fact that I’m moving around so much, leaves me little time to actually get lonely at all. Too much to see and do!

This whole next “chapter” of the trip – the post-Abdulla era – started off with a great little western culture shock on the way to the hotel in Abu Dhabi. I got out of the airport and right into a taxi, and headed toward town. All the taxis in Abu Dhabi are very nice: they’re luxury sedans, with everything from a sunroof to screens mounted into the headrests. Talk about an upgrade from a rickshaw. Then, as we’re breezing down an empty 4-lane highway in the artificially-greened outskirts of town, the taxi driver turns on the radio and “OMG” by Usher starts to play. I almost burst out laughing. The whole thing was just too ridiculous! Here I was, out in an absurd green city in the desert built by oil money, rocking out to Usher and having a ball. The whole other world of India and Nepal had vanished in an instant.

My time in Abu Dhabi was too short, and too poorly planned. I’d come with the false impression that, during my one full day there, I could walk around town and see some of the sights. I vastly underestimated the size and scale of the city. The next morning I set off on what I thought would be a five-minute stroll down the road to a cultural center; 45 minutes later, after walking around the entire city block, I came to the conclusion that it was either closed or didn’t exist anymore. Given that it was already almost noon, and the 108F heat was starting to take its toll on me, I decided I’d try to find a restaurant. But in Abu Dhabi, they’re harder to come by than I’d anticipated. All I could find were furniture stores, jewelry stores, and offices. Finally, after another half hour of wandering, I found a single restaurant dropped in the middle of a park near the waterfront. The Tiara café; looked pricey. But I wasn’t about to pass on what seemed to be the one restaurant in town. I ordered lamb (spelled “lamp”) – my first meat dish in weeks, since I’d been avoiding meat in India/Nepal – and it was phenomenal. Expensive, but worth it. With that and another bottle of water, I set out for more wandering.

I only got so far before exhaustion hit again. After lunch, I saw Abu Dhabi’s little collection of gigantic statues: a canon, a teapot, and a few other mysterious objects, each of them blazing white and about 40 feet tall. Clearly the grand idea of some oil sheikh. After getting a picture with the teapot, I walked back to the waterfront and looked for a beach. I finally found one (after another hour of walking), dipped my feet, and came to the conclusion that what I was doing was silly. I could have taken a taxi to another part of town, but I just didn’t have the energy for more exploring. So I walked back to the hotel, and rested for what was left of the day. In retrospect, I would have been better off coughing up the money for an over-priced bus tour of the town, and sparing myself from the heat and the walking. Oh well, live and learn.

The next morning I was up bright and early for the flight to Istanbul. I accidentally slept an hour late, but still scrambled to the airport with enough time. Once I’d made it to the hotel in Istanbul, I started off walking – yet again – but this time with a fantastic 72F breeze. What a relief! I walked down to Sultanahmet, home to Istanbul’s famous architectural sites, and got a peek at the Hagia Sophia (called “Aya Sofia” in Turkish) from the outside. I couldn’t wait to go inside the next day; I’d studied the Hagia Sophia during a “History of Architecture” course I’d taken as an undergrad, and was jazzed to see it in person. After a dinner of kebabs (spelled “kebaps” in Turkish), it was time for bed.

The next day I set out with an ambitious plan to see Topkapi Palace, the Hagia Sophia, and the Blue Mosque all in a single day. After a quick breakfast, I spent three hours wandering around the Topkapi Palace and Topkapi Harem with the help of an audio guide. There it was, the Turkish/Muslim take on the 5 wives / 400 concubines story of kingdoms come and gone, just like India. The palace was beautiful, and had stunning views of the Bosphorus and the Asia side of Istanbul. It had a decidedly European flavor to it too, with French-inspired tower gates and cobblestone pathways for the horses. The reality of being in Europe was still sinking in.

After lunch at a cute little restaurant nearby, I went for my much-anticipated walk through the Hagia Sophia. It was great to just sit there, admire the artwork and the grandeur, and rest. Even though it’s almost 1500 years old, it’s still an impressively large space. The combination of Christian and Muslim artwork adds a lot of interesting depth as well; it was a church for about 1000 years, before the Ottomans took over and converted it into a Mosque.

My next stop was the Blue Mosque, built around the start of the Ottoman era (well after the Hagia Sophia), in a competitive attempt to create an even more beautiful structure. On the surface, the Blue Mosque definitely succeeded – its beautiful domes and perfect symmetry far outshine the Hagia Sophia, which looks a bit dumpy and squat on the surface. On the inside, however, the Blue Mosque pales in comparison. The construction of the main dome was far less ambitious than that of the Hagia Sophia; while the central space of the Hagia Sophia feels weightless, seemingly suspended by nothing, the Blue Mosque has four gigantic “elephant columns” that support the dome and break up the space. The Blue Mosque is also covered in decorative tiles – excessively so, almost every single surface – to the point where they apparently had to commission less-skilled craftsmen to help fill the huge demand. It was just too much.

That night I met up with Gabby for dinner; Gabby was on our India/Nepal tour, and just happened to also be in Istanbul at the same time. It was great to see her! We had a nice meal down by the waterfront, and then wandered back up to Sultanahmet for some Turkish Delight and coffee. Always fun to see a familiar face in an unfamiliar setting =).

The next morning I’d planned a full-day tour of Dolmabahce Palace and the Bosphorus; unfortunately, when I woke up, I felt sick to the point that I could barely bring myself to leave the room. The food poisoning had returned. I’m not sure whether it was a relapse of the case I’d had in Nepal, or an entirely different instance, but either way I felt horribly sick and couldn’t go 10 minutes without a toilet. I got myself downstairs, canceled the tour, and crawled back up into bed. I spent the next 2 whole days – the rest of my time in Istanbul – sitting in the hotel room and using the bathroom. When I needed food, I wandered down the road to the local market, where I got bananas, apples, and water, or to the restaurant next door where I ordered steamed rice to-go.

My health steadily improved, and the two days of rest in Istanbul were necessary and worthwhile. I was a bit bummed to have missed out on the other activities in town, but at least I’d gotten to see the Hagia Sophia – if that was all I’d seen, it would have still been enough.

By the time Sunday rolled around, I had just enough energy to pack myself up and head to the airport. I flew to Athens, and started off in yet another country. My first taste of Greece was, unfortunately, a bit sour. Too exhausted to brave the metro, I opted for a taxi to the hotel: 35 Euros, a flat rate to anywhere in central Athens, guaranteed (according to the sign at the airport). I got in a taxi, confirmed the price and the address, and headed off. About half way there, the driver turns to me and explains: there are political protests going on in Athens that are blocking off certain roads. He can still take me to the hotel, but he’ll have to drive an extra 7km to get there and he’ll charge me more. Or, he said, he can drop me off somewhere “nearby” the hotel and point me in the right direction, for the agreed-on 35 Euros.

No way, buster. I told him we’d made a deal: 35 Euros, to the hotel, flat rate, agreed on when I got into the car. He started to yell, so I did in turn; before I knew it we were in a full-on heated argument over the taxi fare. Fine, the taxi driver said, call the hotel and ask the receptionist; they’ll confirm the story. I called his bluff, borrowed his phone, and called the hotel. To no surprise, the receptionist agreed with me and not him: he did confirm that there were protests going on in town, but said they were 1.5km away from the hotel and shouldn’t affect our ability to get there. I explained this to the taxi driver, and handed the phone over to him. The two of them proceeded to yell at each other over the phone, in Greek, for the next five minutes. When he finally hung up, the taxi driver explained the situation to me one last time. And I just gave him an ultimatum: either he’ll take me to the hotel for 35 Euros, or I’ll get out of the car right there and now and pay him nothing. That finally did the trick; he backed down, agreed to the 35 Euros, and we continued on in silence. I won!

That evening, after paying my 35 Euros (and not a cent more – no tip for that jerk), I headed south of the hotel and found a nice restaurant, with a view of the Acropolis, that served a simple chicken soup. My appetite was starting to pick up, and I could now stomach a bowl of soup and a plate of rice in a single sitting. I did a little walking around town, and then went home for some much needed rest.

The next day was my one chance to go visit the Acropolis, and I wasn’t about to miss it. After breakfast I wandered up the hill, waited in the long line for my ticket, and befriended some cruise ship tourists along the way. I spent the late-morning/early-afternoon seeing the Parthenon and the Erectheon – both very impressive. Of course I’d studied both structures during that same architecture course, so it was fun to see them in the flesh as well. No doubt this will be a continuing trend; the Coliseum, the Vatican, the Alhambra… anyway, after getting my fill of Doric and Ionic columns, it was time for lunch. After another bowl of chicken soup, I took a walk around Ancient Agora, the old heart of Athens, and then did a little more exploring around town in search of a pharmacy and a health food store (I needed a few supplies). After a quick dinner, I tucked in for an early sleep.

By 4:30am the next morning, I was up, packing, and rolling out the door for an early-morning ferry to Santorini. It took me a while to find the ferry company’s office down at the port, but once I finally had a ticket in hand, I settled onto the boat and rested for the five-hour ride. These Greek ferries, or at least the ones I’ve taken, are more like airplanes than anything else. Everyone has assigned seats (though no seatbelts), and the boat whizzes across the water so fast that you can’t – and wouldn’t want to – go outside. It’s certainly the fastest option for getting out to the isles, aside from flying; the slower ferries take about twice as long, and often consume an entire day (or night).

By noon, I’d reached Santorini and was already in a bus on my way up to the main town of Thira (sometimes spelled Fira). I made the mistake of walking from the bus station to the hotel – a 10-minute up-hill walk, with my 50-pound behemoth of a bag – but managed to find my way just fine. That afternoon I wandered around Thira, and took in some of the charm of Santorini. There’s something about the alleyways of the little towns, especially at night. They look like they’ve come straight out of a story book about a quaint little village near an old castle. The only difference is that all the little shops are either selling souvenirs or expensive jewelry (clearly intended for the countless couples having romantic vacations). Still, the towns have an undeniable charm that can’t quite be explained.

I sealed off the evening with a sunset view over dinner; although it was a bit cloudy, and the sunset wasn’t much more than the sun disappearing behind some clouds, the quality of the light and the view of Thira still made it a special sight.

The next day I tried to see as much of Santorini as I could, while still not draining myself too much. I took the bus up to the small town of Imerovigli, in the hopes of seeing its famous blue-domed church and the one in nearby Firostefani. After a half hour of fruitless searching, I finally found an American woman who pointed me in the right direction. I spent the next hour walking down the coast, taking in the incredible views of the blue-trimmed gleaming white villas, and admiring the blue-domed churches that were literally straight out of the postcards. I ended up walking all the way back to Thira, grabbing a quick lunch, and then resting in the hotel room for a couple of hours.

There was still too much of Santorini I hadn’t seen; I couldn’t stop so soon. By 3pm I was out again, this time headed south on the bus to Akrotiri and Red Beach (supposedly the best beach on the island). I got off the bus and started walking along the shore. I had no idea where I was going, but luckily I started talking to an American family who knew the way. On the 15 minute walk to Red Beach, I started to befriend their eldest daughter, Anna, who had just graduated from Concordia College in Minnesota. An Art History major with a super-religious bent: she works as a counselor at a bible camp, and enjoys giving sermons… needless to say I wasn’t keen on sharing too many personal details with her. Once we got to the beach, we went separate ways and I got some time to swim, sunbathe, and enjoy being on the Mediterranean.

Both Anna’s family and I had independently decided to catch the same bus back to Thira, and a while later we all found ourselves walking back to the bus stop together. Anna was telling me that Oia (pronounced “eeya”), at the far north end of the island, is by far the most beautiful town on Santorini and has the best sunsets (it also happened to be where she and her family were staying). I figured I might as well get dinner and watch the sunset from there, so we all continued on together toward Oia.

A few minutes before we got to Oia, Anna asked me if I wanted to get coffee with her. Eek. I hadn’t told her that I was gay (obviously), and now it seemed like I was being asked on a date. Not knowing what to do, and with her father sitting right next to us, I said okay. When we got off the bus, I pulled her aside and explained the situation. She understood, and didn’t seem too phased by my being gay (surprisingly), so we split off from her parents and got coffee, just as friends. And we had a great time! It was nice to have a little chat with another person my age, even if we had absolutely nothing in common. After an hour or so, Anna went off to go find her parents, and I wandered west to get a view of the sunset.

Just as Anna said, Oia does have the best sunsets. Although it was still cloudy, like the day before, the way the sun peeked out of the clouds and illuminated the town was sight worth seeing. After the sun disappeared, I did a little wandering through Oia and saw the blue-domed churches that make the town famous. I ate dinner on a rooftop overlooking the island, and had a great time watching the daylight fade away. By the time I caught the bus back to Thira, it was completely dark; aside from the light in the shop windows, the whole island seemed to have gone to sleep.

The next morning it was time to move again; I had a big breakfast and rolled back down to the bus station, got to the port, and headed for Mykonos. Mykonos, unlike Santorini, is a bit more geared toward single people; not only is it known as one of the major party islands, it’s also known as the gay clubbing destination of Greece. I could tell I was headed for Mykonos as soon as I sat down on the ferry. I quickly discovered that the two guys sitting next to me were a couple; they couldn’t keep their hands off each other for the entire two-hour ride. Not something you see in public every day!

Somehow, when I got off at Mykonos, my energy level took a dip. It was noticeably hotter than Santorini, and maybe I’d run around too much the previous day… given that I was still recovering from food poisoning, I might have pushed it a bit. Regardless, I found myself sitting at the port, giant rolling bag in hand, and I knew there was no way I could get myself up the hill to the hotel without help. Mykonos has hardly any taxis, so unfortunately that wasn’t an option. I decided I’d head over to the ferry company office, pick up my return ticket to Athens, and ask them what I could do. They were incredibly helpful, thank goodness. After calling the one taxi company (only to find out that they were completely busy), they called my hotel and got them to come pick me up. Phew! It turns out the hotel was quite far up the hill from Mykonos, to the point where it’d have taken me hours to roll my bag up the long winding road. Although it’s only a half-mile walk from town it’s a very steep half-mile of stairways; I’m glad I never had to make the trip with my luggage.

Still exhausted, I rested in the room for quite a while. I made a trip to town in the late afternoon, saw Mykonos’ famous windmills, had a very expensive fruit juice (with a view of the ocean and the windmills), and stocked up on bananas and water at the local market. That evening, still running on low energy, I stumbled back down to town and got dinner. I had dressed up in anticipation of possibly going to some of the clubs, but after taking a look at them, I just couldn’t motivate myself to commit and do it. All the ones I saw seemed to be full of older guys – not exactly my crowd – and I also got the sense that the party wouldn’t really pick up until quite late. I didn’t have the energy for it, so I went back to the hotel and slept.

This morning, my energy was noticeably better – phew! I walked down to town for a quick lunch, then checked out and got driven back to the port. And now, here I am, sitting on the five-hour ferry back to Athens; a good opportunity to do a little writing. Tomorrow I’ll be up and out early in the morning, this time for an overnight tour to Delphi and Meteora in northern Greece. The movement never stops, but neither does the excitement – so far so good! Despite getting sick and losing my travel partner, I’m continuing to have a great time =).

I’ll close with my usual notes:

• In the US, every hotel room comes with a bible in the nightstand drawer. In the UAE, every hotel room comes with an arrow on the roof that points toward Mecca.
• Maybe it was unusual luck, or maybe it’s a common misspelling, but wherever I went in Abu Dhabi and Istanbul I saw the word “lamb” spelled “lamp”. I ate lamp on a few occasions.
• Apparently there is no European equivalent of Pepto Bismol. I’ve searched, in pharmacies and online, and it just doesn’t exist.
• The receptionist at the hotel in Athens taught me the “Greek way” of doing things. At one point I asked her to call the ferry company for me, and they put her on hold. So she said, “watch, this is how we do things in Greece”: she hung up, called back, and yelled at the guy on the other end. He didn’t put her on hold this time, and just answered our question straight-out. So remember, if at first you don’t succeed, yell yell again! Hey, it worked with the taxi driver too.

Χαιρετε! (Be happy!)
-Izaak