tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53930293518533325822024-03-19T02:29:14.396-07:00Third class ticketThe beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-6619460825861690402008-07-27T02:06:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:29.877-08:00FROM COMMUNISM TO CAPITALISM AND GRUMPY MONKS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqsNhv6LSty6eh6VYESPJWcUpeTKDvhhtdUBxHe9u15z8yiPLrAd_InEgZvIMpmojAzkl7kN2uZbRv0OgFf4i_dTPbyMtXEpdF2YH4fBuiDfQ9BqrmyON89Bz0FDiBSiHcqCmHVDFuL7nm/s1600-h/_GLS2602.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227717632235115746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqsNhv6LSty6eh6VYESPJWcUpeTKDvhhtdUBxHe9u15z8yiPLrAd_InEgZvIMpmojAzkl7kN2uZbRv0OgFf4i_dTPbyMtXEpdF2YH4fBuiDfQ9BqrmyON89Bz0FDiBSiHcqCmHVDFuL7nm/s400/_GLS2602.JPG" border="0" /></a> We already knew that the dimensions of China were considerable, but only spending the long hours sitting on the bus and the train to go to our every time destination, we can realize how big it is...<br /><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">We leave behind the province of the Xinjiang with its endless deserts and some impressive peaks that will take you all the way to Pakistan along the Karakorum Highway. For us is also the last place where muslimism is the main religion. After travelling several months in central Asia, we look forward for the change in the culture that the Eastern provinces are going to bring, but we also know that we will miss the character and the hospitality typical in the Allah worshipers whose as well as in all central Asia, also populate the Uighur province.</div><div align="justify"> </div><div align="justify">A few days in China are enough to comprehend that Communism has been replaced by pure Capitalism. The prices for visiting some of the sites are in a disproportion hard to believe...</div><div align="justify">With the entrance fee to visit a temple, a fortress or just to visit a lake is enough to buy your food and accommodation for the day!</div><div align="justify">Chinese people pay full price too, which with an average monthly salary of 80 Euros, makes it only affordable for rich locals and foreigners that have not been long on the road.</div><div align="justify">Quickly we cross the Gansu province, only stopping by to get our first glimpse of the great wall, and to change the original plans of visiting the town of Xiahe. After asking why, the answer that we get is that the government has forbidden any foreigner to visit the place for "safety" reasons...</div><div align="justify">Xiahe is a main pilgrimage point for Tibetans Buddhists, which make us think that maybe is for the "safety" of the Chinese government that we can not access to the information of what's really going on in Tibet.</div><div align="justify">After all that and knowing that many areas close to Tibet are going to be inaccessible for us, we drive our steps to the Sichuan province, famous lately for the massive earthquake that left many people without a home and depending on international aid.</div><div align="justify">The capital Chengdu is the first place we visit, overpopulated as we thought, we enjoy the famous province's spicy food, the traditional opera and some grumpy monks which get quite upset if you point your camera at them when the play with the last "toy" in the mobile phone market.</div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-3225963783899823982008-07-06T07:59:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:30.032-08:00THE OFFICIAL REGULATIONS OF CHINA SAY...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmguzlekrz8dqxVY6xaB9Iomt2cdp3bEkiDj_A9cVH-WnH7245YSFGdKQq4Fd1aYhyphenhyphensAwjtRL2X3GwLFZnEE1564tecavR0jX31_cc6C7NqFxhDvONCJzMuw_8mRN4pSd16qwiaJvrTgBh/s1600-h/_GLS0736.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220288359747015298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmguzlekrz8dqxVY6xaB9Iomt2cdp3bEkiDj_A9cVH-WnH7245YSFGdKQq4Fd1aYhyphenhyphensAwjtRL2X3GwLFZnEE1564tecavR0jX31_cc6C7NqFxhDvONCJzMuw_8mRN4pSd16qwiaJvrTgBh/s400/_GLS0736.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Last hours in Kyrgyzstan, land of mountains, which seem to show all their beauty to us, maybe to make us regret the fact of leaving and cover the distance between Osh and the Irkestan pass that will take us into China.</div><div>300 kilometres in 24 hours in probably one of the worst roads in Central Asia , is quite a good timing, comparing it with some of the never ending stories that we've heard from other travellers tat we've met on the way. Tired but happy to be there, we pay the agreed price to driver and his son who accepted our cheap offer to take us up to the border in the slow but strong Kamaz (Russian truck).</div><br /><div>The Irkestan pass is a weird isolated place at 3500m high where people live in wagons and containers piling their rubbish where they can and where the streets are formed by the endless rows of parked trucks, everyday changing, waiting for their turn to cross over.</div><div>Early in the morning we manage to get our "out" stamps from the last kyrgyz checkpoint, still not knowing what we had ahead...</div><div>After 5 hours, we are still waiting for something to happen in the endless cue of trucks forming in the road. Chinese, Kyrgyz, Tajik and some other foreigners , all with the same goal, await on this side of the fence the two hour brake that the Chinese officers enjoy everyday, which added to the two hours difference with the official Beijing time, only leave 4 hours for us to make it through before they close the border again until next day.</div><div>Devouring our books and trying to learn the first words in Chinese is how we spend the next three hours until the truck in front of us moves forward making us the next ones...</div><br /><div>We heard many stories, " -They are really slow", "- They will check every single thing in your backpack", "-They will check even the pictures in your camera". Through all of that we went with no problem, and just when we were about to get the precious stamp and the forced "welcome to China" of the officer of the passport control, we were stopped and taken aside as if we had done something wrong... and we did... just not realize that in our guidebook, China and Taiwan have different colours as if they where different countries, so we ended having our guidebook with all the maps taken away because as they say, " In the official regulations of China, Taiwan is still part of China".</div><div>-"Yes, but we did not write the guidebook...thanks for that!" we say.</div><br /><div>Finally in China we enjoy the 260km of desertic landscape that take us to the Silk Road city of Kasghar, with its over populated Sunday animal market, just to learn as we walk through it that the local Uyghur are very similar to the Kyrgyz and Tajiks that we just left behind on the other side of the border.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-82937234924375512982008-06-27T01:19:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:30.178-08:00WALKING ON NOMADS LAND<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp_iAsSUfWuXTr6T32LI6l29C5BJLOaryCpEx7niq7PSvj6kpW2LeZDmalB2WGVjO8Y7NnY2daMuNphjnCQFo4RTG7VvC4I8oT4UaI8p3A2-i6sZiAZErbVVM6jMbbQx53dbkHyOrNaSX/s1600-h/_GLS0540.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216493253628463906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYp_iAsSUfWuXTr6T32LI6l29C5BJLOaryCpEx7niq7PSvj6kpW2LeZDmalB2WGVjO8Y7NnY2daMuNphjnCQFo4RTG7VvC4I8oT4UaI8p3A2-i6sZiAZErbVVM6jMbbQx53dbkHyOrNaSX/s400/_GLS0540.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>A nice bazaar in Osh and a dodgy money exchange including police and an inexpert thief using the same trick twice with us in less that one minute, is what we will remember from the two main cities in Kyrgyzstan...</div><br /><div>With the view of the Tien Shan range and excited to leave behind the boring cities we reached the Yssyk-Kul lake, known as the "warm lake" which due to the thermal activity it never freezes in winter but it does never get really "warm" either in summer as we will find out later on.</div><div>Karakol is the main hub for the numerous trekking around the Tien Shan, so we haste organizing everything before the hordes of tourists reach the snowed peaks. Food, tent, cooking set, sleeping bag and a pair of boots is all we think we will need to carry with us to pay a visit to the mountains that we can see from the shore of the lake while we enjoy the cold bath.</div><br /><div>Few hours up along the valley taking us away from the city are enough to realize that we are entering the nomads land as many yurts and cattle appear in the green slopes beneath the snow.Master horse riders as their ancestors were, shepherds families built their houses for the spring and summer months to fatten their cattle with fresh green grass growing everywhere.Some of the nomads, curious and still not focused on tourism as many others do nowadays, offer you a place to seat and enjoy of some tea and the strong taste of the fermented horse milk named kumuz.</div><div>With the backpacks getting heavier and the slopes stepper towards the high pass that will take us to the next valley, it is time for us to rest and camp before the menacing storm discharges all its fury on us. A rough night trying not to get wet inside the tent is the price that we have to pay to enjoy the breathtaking white landscape that we can see next morning as we come out of the nearly buried in snow tent. The feeling on the top is certainly worth every single drop of sweat going up in the fresh snow that hides the path that we are supposed to follow. Over the pass and after few stops to enjoy to eat and enjoy the views we make it to the big city again just on time to visit the animal market where locals trade their cows, sheep and horses.</div><br /><div>Our visa expiring soon and willing to get into China, we leave behind the mountains that definitely have left some funny memories, including our skeptical look at the cooking pot that was closer to a watering pot than to something to cook with, when we went to collect some water from the river; or meeting some stupid "trekker" that after hiring a guide and a porter was hiking with sandals over the snow -"just for the fun of it" , as he said.</div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-32310503764479725272008-06-15T06:57:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:30.387-08:00THE UNBELIEVABLE BUT TRUE HISTORY OF LEAVING THE PAMIR HIGHWAY<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOT53INPRCh98qkcov1xnhcwVRrFjcTAGoCJMJEqKEQboOJ5CsCEC76tN5NzbWJ1sDrGu01bqUxKFrfQQb5fs9vd-5EXKTtmNaNGLt5XP-YN-QtYdCv1Z0a9txDGNA9p4I9oQgcV5Rw76D/s1600-h/_GLS9263.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOT53INPRCh98qkcov1xnhcwVRrFjcTAGoCJMJEqKEQboOJ5CsCEC76tN5NzbWJ1sDrGu01bqUxKFrfQQb5fs9vd-5EXKTtmNaNGLt5XP-YN-QtYdCv1Z0a9txDGNA9p4I9oQgcV5Rw76D/s400/_GLS9263.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212124013261331538" /></a><br />The Pamir highway is a place that can be hard to leave behind. The main and normal reason would be the stunning landscapes that the high mountains offer along it; for us , once we decided to continue our trip, other factors played their part...<br />Wanting to hitch a ride up to Osh,Already in Kyrgyzstan, we waited for two days on the road without seeing any possible transport except a donkey loaded with wood which did not seem reliable for the 300km of our ride. Tired of waiting and with the Tajik visa, we arranged a ride for the next day which after agreeing the price with the driver the night before , he wanted to charge us more after consulting it with the pillow, so we had our first session of arguing.<br />Finally on our way and arriving to the border, you can expect to wait there for quite a long time depending if in that moment the soldiers at the checkpoint are bringing some water or if just they want to check the type of photographic camera that you are carrying with you.<br />Happy and excited for being in Kyrgyzstan, you have lot of chances to be stopped and be asked to pay a bribe to the guard at the checkpoint, who says that you must go back to Tajikistan, just a few kilometres after crossing the border.<br />With that sorted and behind us, then is the turn of your driver , who for some reason thinks that he is gonna be of some hep if he waits for a much slower car with a flat tyre stopped far behind us.<br />After a bit more arguing and convincing the driver to keep going it is time for mother Nature to play it role, which after a storm has caused many landslides on our way, making us stop every few kilometres to try to deal with the cars trapped in the mud and the others cuing to try better luck even when it is obvious that it will probably happen the same to them. Luckily for us , our car is a four wheel drive Jeep that make it over the mud just to break down due to an electrical problem just as soon as we reached the free of mud road again. That will add a couple of hours more trying not to get wet under the new menacing storm forming above us...<br />Problems solved and closer to our final destination we had the good luck of being stopped by the police that for a change is asking for a bribe again. At this point we were already looking around trying to see where the hidden camera is.<br />Police asking for some extra cash is quite common in Kyrgyzstan, so drivers are used to bargain down the price but as many things around here takes quite a lot of time, and just to be stopped maybe again a bit farther on...<br />Finally and only having to wait for a "bit" more we are on route again, until of course we have to get back to the police checkpoint to collect the " stolen" passport as the old woman, sitting on the front seat, explains to us until she finds it somewhere in her purse, just after the driver as gone in again to deal with the police...<br />Hard to believe but at the end of all that our driver let us know that we are in Osh, our destination. Unfortunately it doesn't take to long for us to realise that we are still several kilometres away that we will have to cover next day because after twelve hours on the road and having to deal with to much, our driver says that he just had enough for the day.The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-1578351174687583692008-05-29T07:12:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:30.644-08:00SITTING,WAITING,WISHING<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmYUNw5hLueaNkRP-ovcBhoVdILX07RjdbtpOWAwBP2fcBkNhtzSZA02z6qy2kkJpUL5odOLYwpsIjjbt2rhwxDGx_vBoMoDfH-oDyIRRhEp221nGFUIJ7JrKoa39LTy-L01eNaoluqwG/s1600-h/_GLS9007.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205806162828993906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhmYUNw5hLueaNkRP-ovcBhoVdILX07RjdbtpOWAwBP2fcBkNhtzSZA02z6qy2kkJpUL5odOLYwpsIjjbt2rhwxDGx_vBoMoDfH-oDyIRRhEp221nGFUIJ7JrKoa39LTy-L01eNaoluqwG/s400/_GLS9007.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>After a 24 hours back breaking ride with the local transport, where the driver decided to have a nap just after 20 hours of driving non-stop, we happily made it to Khorog, the main city along the Pamir Highway .</div><div>Just looking around you can see why the locals call this area “The roof of the world”.Impressive snowed peaks everywhere will be our travel companions for the next few days. Transportation in this area it's quite hard to get and very overpriced, due to not really clever tourist, coming in here for a short holidays and paying the outrageous amounts of money that they ask for, just for taking you from A to B, and not thinking that the normal salary in here goes around the 30 USD per month.Not willing to pay those sums that will for sure crumble our budget for the rest of our trip, we decide for the “always” working way of sticking our thumps out and hope for the best.</div><div>Unfortunately many drivers in Tajikistan do not believe in free rides for tourists, and after a few changes of car and paying small sums of money we made to the next significant town, Jelandy, which is already 4000m high and no more than ten houses can be counted…</div><div>A perfect stop for truck drivers, called Sanatorium, famous for having hot springs in their installations, will be the perfect spot to treat ourselves after a nice but hard to breath trek in the surrounding mountains.</div><div>Next morning, after the always working watery coffee that they serve for breakfast, you can go to the triple pit toilet to have a dump, where after the first embarrassing moments can be the perfect place to start a morning conversation with the other two people already there.</div><div>That same day we get to know some of the locals, whose offer us some food and tea after observing us sitting, waiting, wishing for a car passing with enough space and willing to take us.“Tomorrow Insh’allah” is what they say to us, so after spending another night soaking in the thermal baths we manage to get a “cheap” ride through an impressive scenery , where no vegetation can be seen, only rocks, snows, marmots and nomad yurts along the way to Murgab, our next destination.</div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-45698705314707871682008-05-17T08:38:00.000-07:002008-05-17T09:36:05.804-07:00BACK TO BASICSAs we smoke our last water pipe of Uzbekistan and hear the " wonderful " experiences of one of those " my trip is much better and interesting than yours " travellers trying to pick up a girl in our home stay in Samarkand; we plan our next move to visit the Fan mountains in Tajikistan.<br />Again by foot, and having the snowed peaks as our goal in front of us we crossed the border and got a ride with the last of our Uzbeck currency to the city of Penjikent.<br />After walking around the city, we appreciate no difference with their neighbour country, except the language, this one coming from the Farsi and how locals still do not accept that their capital cities , Samarkand and Buhara are not part anymore of their country.<br /><br />Buying all the necessary and hoping for good weather we set off to the mountains, where we expect to camp for a few days surrounded by 5000 m peaks.<br />Our backpacks are heavy with food, as we load them on top of the mashurtna ( mini-van) where more than 25 people squeeze each other in the place for 6 and some them stare our boots with more interest than our cameras!<br />The mountains welcomed us with some rain the first day on the way up to Kunikalon lake, where in some steep slopes we have the feeling that our boots are much heavier than they actually are; maybe the 15 kg in our backpacks are the reason why...<br />Impressive walls full of snow around our tent are enough reason to drop our mouths open but as well to switch back to basics and make us think in going to fetch some wood before the cold night arrives.<br />We are definitely closer to the stars...as we look at them in the closed night but as well we are to the hot sun above us next morning, so we jumped into the icy lake and realized later at night, that we should not forget the sun-block cream in our next visit t the high altitudes.<br />After four days it is time for us to head back to civilization, get a shower and sort out some permit needed to cross the Pamir Highway, again more bureaucracy!!<br />In the long way down the mountains we chat with some locals who climb these mountains every day to load their donkeys with wood while the impressively strong animals bray loudly to break the quietness in the valley.<br /><br />Hitching a ride in an old soviet truck to the capital, Dushanbe, we crossed through the scary unfinished tunnel that the Chinese are building to avoid the Anzob pass high above. Inside it we realize that there is no way that this huge terrible scar in the mountain is gonna be finished in 2009 as planned.The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-48193780554454263152008-05-02T07:05:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:30.813-08:00PEARLS OF THE SILK ROAD<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh3qiLPAJCJTzVWnNhqiXCA8wPNk6gfQSfmviaI2M5pSenVmFBerv_Z-OLsAWRDGf9I7UAPNLQli199b9YDUyoFCGlGwv9vd490tPc6uxnWz44eIu9d8z4F4rZM0NI1sMO-rTMu-nevllD/s1600-h/111.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195801287668270610" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh3qiLPAJCJTzVWnNhqiXCA8wPNk6gfQSfmviaI2M5pSenVmFBerv_Z-OLsAWRDGf9I7UAPNLQli199b9YDUyoFCGlGwv9vd490tPc6uxnWz44eIu9d8z4F4rZM0NI1sMO-rTMu-nevllD/s400/111.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Samarkand, Buhara and Khiva do not let you down in your expectations of their beauty. Like open books, these cities talk about history of ancient times as you get lost in their mud brick streets or observe the detailed carving in the walls of the Registan.<br /></div><div>Great cities of old kingdoms since the time of Alexander the Great, they were caprices of great kings like Timur Leng, who decided to make of them pure architectural master classes; or conquerors like Genghis Khan who overwhelmed for their beauty decided to change his usual way of destroying to conquer and keep them as pearls of the vast territory he ruled.</div><div>Nowadays, these cities are main attractions for tourism and hordes of it arrive everyday in their hired buses which unload them to take photos of every single corner, where locals with turbans and wrinkled faces have learnt to make a living being the perfect subject to have in the photos of your exotic holidays in Uzbekistan...</div><div><br /> </div><div>Searching tranquility we reached the plateau of Fergana Valley, a rural region surrounded by impressive Kyrgyz snowed peaks, where crossing from one part of some villages to the other can be the difference between being a tourist in Uzbekistan or an illegal immigrant in Kyrgyzstan without papers if you do not have the visa for this last one.</div><div>After enjoying its amazing local bread, the fresh vegetables, learning a bit about the hand made silk production and specially laugh and enjoy the hospitality of the villagers of Nanay, it is time for us to go back to Tashkent and collect our awaited visas for Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan and have a closer look of the mountains now far in the horizon.</div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-13741862608703064142008-04-23T07:25:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:30.988-08:00TRAVELLING THE EMBASSIES ROAD<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTZxhpXKMdR7RqJMwU5d555G_NKWgULXvm9939bogW_zj5cfoRYYa4aeyvhAlNSssdT0Ykuqr2PceW62MTmOvo6dasmGsC82xKjWoIQEf21EOKJKAFZHJjcPFVZ4zqEzk9wn94N4Bmf7A/s1600-h/_GLS6743.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitTZxhpXKMdR7RqJMwU5d555G_NKWgULXvm9939bogW_zj5cfoRYYa4aeyvhAlNSssdT0Ykuqr2PceW62MTmOvo6dasmGsC82xKjWoIQEf21EOKJKAFZHJjcPFVZ4zqEzk9wn94N4Bmf7A/s400/_GLS6743.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192456715030496770" border="0" /></a><br />With only five days to cross Turkmenistan, we know in advance that in this country we won't be sitting with the locals to have some tea if we want to manage to see something and be on time at the Uzbek border.<br /><br />Clean and neat Ashgabat, is quite a different place from the ones that we've been used in the last few weeks, no crazy traffic circulating on top of the walkways and quiet streets are quite a surprise for us. Already passed away Turkmenbassy, rebuilt this place with typical soviet style, where big avenues meet big squares and on them, himself as the main theme in the decoration. Walking around you just can comprehend the meaning of pure egocentricity as you can see his face literally everywhere you look at.<br />Turkmen people are a mixture of Mongols and Russians with a more relaxed version of being Muslim, where veils are not a must which we gladly observe in their curious and characteristic faces.<br />With two days already gone and still on the first stop, it is time for us to hurry up and head North.<br />Willing not to see the whole country through the bus window, we decide to break our trip north and visit Mary, where with very little to offer and not many places to stay for travellers, we visited the bad preserved ruins of Merv and served as entertainment for the locals in town.<br />Having Turkmenabat as our launching point and with only a few hours to leave the country we reached the border with Uzbekistan, where after spending several hours and being checked even the colour of our dirty underwear in the backpacks , we finally made it into Uzbekistan.<br /><br />Rushing up to Tashkent, willing to deal with all the bureaucracy needed for the following countries to visit and after the Chinese, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan consulates, it's more than enough to have the thought that maybe if Marco Polo would have had so much hassle in obtaining the permissions he would have changed the name of the Silk Road for the Embassies Road.<br />After a week in the capital waiting for our passports and hoping to get the precious stamps when we come back in a two weeks time, we set off South hoping to get a glimpse of the true Silk Road in or next stop, Samarkand.The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-87588406470035735732008-04-03T01:24:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:31.125-08:00TOUCH TO BE BLESSED<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALYNzAXgbZ5KePEFMAcjWR9kMqZIJ6xAqlRQ3snuyVpSxbrv9m_QdlYZvZYPGVNQKHYc1MlstZPBVeJXgvS8yFlC2bW2iTN6YF7Cw0lBn0It9tpyeARU789T87wacYc3CXF-eGF_hUL8T/s1600-h/_GLS5331.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184947678790655554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjALYNzAXgbZ5KePEFMAcjWR9kMqZIJ6xAqlRQ3snuyVpSxbrv9m_QdlYZvZYPGVNQKHYc1MlstZPBVeJXgvS8yFlC2bW2iTN6YF7Cw0lBn0It9tpyeARU789T87wacYc3CXF-eGF_hUL8T/s400/_GLS5331.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />The temperature raises as we head south and the sand dunes welcome us through the window of our bus ride.<br />We explore Yaszd's old town and some of the Zoroastrian sites, a religion still active in this part of the country, the bazaar with charming workers who proudly teach us how they love and have been doing their jobs for many years.<br />Not tempted for the wine but for some important historical sites we drive our steps to Shiraz, the city of poets, where the hospitality of the people is overwhelming and we have the chance to go back in time while we walk through the ruins of Persepolis, witness of times when the Persian and Xerxes ruled over the world.<br />Trying to scape from a busy place to welcome the first day of the Spring and their new year, we reached Bandar-e Abbas, the Iranian biggest city in the Persian gulf. In there we observe how the traditional black veils have been changed for a more colourful ones, syndrome of the mixture of cultures to be found here. Adding the busy time of the year and maybe the extreme heat we felt some tension in the atmosphere making our photographic part of this trip a bit more complicated.<br /><br />As the boats stuck in the sand waiting for the high tide to sail away, we wait for our bus ride that hopefully will take us to Kerman in the fist day of 1387.<br />After three days there, with our visa expiring soon and not having yet the one for Turkmenistan, we head to Mashhad, the Holy city, just to realize that maybe it was not such a good idea.<br />For No Ruz, more than 12 million of pilgrims come to this city just to have the chance to be close to the Shrine of the Imam Reza, one of the direct descendants of the prophet Mohammad as Shiite believe fervidly.<br />Thousands of people sleeping in the streets confirm our fears that maybe find a place to sleep will be a complicated task for us. Tired of carrying the backpack up and down, asking and not getting other answer than "... sorry we are full" we decided to try our last option of asking the police.<br />After a few phone calls and taxis, we managed to meet the head of tourism in Mashhad, give and interview to the city's newspaper and find a not so cheap hotel where we had the honour to have lunch with the Major of the city and the hotel's director... a bit too much for simple " Moshafer" like us.<br />With the view of the pure gold brick dome of the Holy Shrine, we adventure ourselves in the difficult task for non-Muslims of visiting the 24h crowded tomb of the Imam. Once inside, is like being on the last concert of Metallica. People cry, scream and walk on top of each other just for the chance of touching the tomb and be blessed forever... we are only spectators but of a scene that will be hard to forget.<br /><br />Finally and with the fought for Turkmen visa in our passports we say goodbye to without any doubt, one of the best countries that we have ever been, with its people as a perfect example of manners and hospitality.The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-92775236139304362008-03-14T09:41:00.000-07:002008-12-12T22:48:31.487-08:00FROM ASSASSINS TO BLUE TILED MOSQUES<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Vmu3WUucChY3z_l-cwDTqvCWdyl6U3QUx_0Qz-Rn8qzxBRgzh-L1jkaorzUtpR8h47qbjNbM_XiZOqVwK43FVdXhRmwgaknO06evs4HXnSyHIjLhQ47HD_l2c5NcTOYyUK8Zdn3wnQ3G/s1600-h/_GLS4252.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Vmu3WUucChY3z_l-cwDTqvCWdyl6U3QUx_0Qz-Rn8qzxBRgzh-L1jkaorzUtpR8h47qbjNbM_XiZOqVwK43FVdXhRmwgaknO06evs4HXnSyHIjLhQ47HD_l2c5NcTOYyUK8Zdn3wnQ3G/s400/_GLS4252.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178008710364370674" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>In our way to Teheran we decided to pay a visit to Alamut, land of the assassins...</div><div>Surrounded by the snowed peaks of the Alborz range you can find numerous castles situated in strategic points, like Gazor Khan castle dating from the time when the Mongol empire use to rule this part of the world.</div><div>Some roads, nowadays hardly travelled by locals, where busy with merchants travelling the silk road, selling their goods in some of the castles and that's when the assassins (that means, those who smoke hashish) used to strike their victims... Luckily for us just a quiet place with stunning views and relaxed friendly locals.</div><br /><div>After two days enjoying the impressive views from Gazor Khan castle, it is time to head towards Teheran and find out if we can manage to get the "precious" Turkmenistan visa.</div><br /><div>The Capital welcomed us with over 18 million people and probably with the same amount of cars racing in the streets, not caring about pedestrians, traffic lights or driving backwards when there are plenty cars coming in your direction... just using the horn as their excuse for everything and to let you know that they are coming.</div><div>Fighting against the horribly busy traffic early morning, we arrived to the Turkmenistan's embassy just on time to find out the we will have to wait to Mashad to get our visa trammited.</div><div>Not willing to get killed by a car or the pollution we jumped into a night train to Isfahan escaping the crazy city.<br /><br /></div><div>Once the capital of the Shah kingdom, Isfahan is probably one of those magic places hard to forget. </div><div>Inspiring architecture and crafwork are to be seen everywhere, especially in the famous Imam Square with its palaces and stunning Mosques with their blue tiled domes and facades. You can just travel back in time imagining the amount of skill and work that would take to build such impressive buildings, or when you get lost in the bazaar and hear the hammering of the craftsmen that invite to have a tea while they explain how the do their jobs.</div><div>Is not a secret that the biggest treasure of this city is its people which will stop you in the streets by their curiosity and will offer you their house, their food and their time even when you are a completely stranger for them.</div><div>Friday is the big praying day for them an luckily for us we are welcomed to experience the ceremony called Moharram where they whip themselves with metal chains to commemorate the death of the last of the twelve Imams.</div><div>Iranian New year, or Noruz is coming and everything is getting ready to receive the more than 3 million visitors expected, so for us is time to keep heading south to Yazd and Shiraz before finding a place to stay become nearly impossible..</div><br /><div> </div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-55149044384168784942008-03-02T08:14:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:31.733-08:00WELCOME<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurSicTylobaZZS3L9kexOU52c2yqnyVYZhtV4qmkAZGEmnAHY6AI80D1qr43orIE7fQ6cBUQ6DDK_YByOoKRFlcOo0upZ70ZsDnSvpQ_FY1n9BqR5iRwLwm9hLC-IwuaWfpHMMykmW3CY/s1600-h/rrr.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173183911626048514" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiurSicTylobaZZS3L9kexOU52c2yqnyVYZhtV4qmkAZGEmnAHY6AI80D1qr43orIE7fQ6cBUQ6DDK_YByOoKRFlcOo0upZ70ZsDnSvpQ_FY1n9BqR5iRwLwm9hLC-IwuaWfpHMMykmW3CY/s400/rrr.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Leaving behind the staring eyes from the Armenian border police and crossing it through a maze of trucks with different goods, we managed to cross over to Iran by foot, again.<br />"Welcome" was the first word that we heard as we were showing our passports to the immigration officer and after the usual formalities we were already catching a taxi ride towards the next significant city.<br />We arrived to Tabriz after enjoying a stunning sunset in the mountains that literally separate Iran and Azerbaijan.<br />50 euros make you feel like Donald Trump when you exchange them and you get something close to a million of the Iranian rials and your wallet it is just not big enough to carry them and walk normally.<br />We also did find out that the traffic lights and the traffic police are just simply decoration in the roads of Tabriz, just to find out afterwards that it was nothing to be compared with the "crazy" traffic, as they say, from Teheran.... just scary to cross the road!<br /><br />Our "lovely" guidebook is a bit old, and even being the last edition, we realized sadly that everything is going to be at least twice the price suggested on it...<br />So after tighten up our belts we walked some of the city streets where the face of the Ayatollah and the black veils are to bee seen everywhere. A young local trio studying tourism approached us and after a nice talk they invited us over for lunch the next day where we learned a lot about how hard is living in Iran nowadays, specially for them because freedom to go anywhere or just to speak freely are something hard to imagine.<br />Two more days visiting the bazaar and learning a bit more of the making of the world famous carpets from Tabriz and after rejecting some really good special prices as they say, we headed south to Zanjan.<br />In the bus ride we met Naser, a young computing student who offered us a place to stay.<br />Moslem and Yosef are his flatmates and being excellent hosts they introduced us to their friends, showed us the local wonders and helped us to remember the good times about the student life and the pleasure of not having to worry about waking early.<br />We celebrated Jorge`s birthday with some folklore about this part of Iran, named East Azerbaijan, which they speak so proudly about.<br />Willing to stay with them for a few more days as they ask us for, we say goodbye to them hoping to have gained three more new friends for life. Qazvin awaits for us just two hours ahead in the highway towards Teheran.</div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-29980043229437319072008-02-22T10:16:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:31.918-08:00ARMENIA<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecRpFAStkg1wtMZl0nbY8nOBBYQ-9wPg3AuuBRGsiG8pG5pRR2AKuwCXMId2qy3f51zpzlDvZfCgJNfWzyEBvFPY8YMgGnUMZj_lOCAzW-AS8L6cStyf3qIVy6752foJ1dEoFeWI6UhOn/s1600-h/_GLS3070.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170101608095021058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiecRpFAStkg1wtMZl0nbY8nOBBYQ-9wPg3AuuBRGsiG8pG5pRR2AKuwCXMId2qy3f51zpzlDvZfCgJNfWzyEBvFPY8YMgGnUMZj_lOCAzW-AS8L6cStyf3qIVy6752foJ1dEoFeWI6UhOn/s400/_GLS3070.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Armenia is definitely an interesting country where you can find both sides of the coin without having to flip it over.<br />Religion has been and still is one of the biggest influences on the landscape just judging the infinite number of monasteries that you can practically everywhere you go. Lot's of them ancient and really beautiful hidden in the mountains or in one of the tinny islands of a lake, where the landscape surrounding them was making us jealous of the monks that even nowadays keep the places fully working.<br />Unfortunately environmental care is bot of the first priorities in Armenia and just close by those magic monasteries you cab observe and old soviet metal factory still working, where the smoke of which stains the facade of the typical all look alike depressive soviet gray buildings of the city spreading around.<br /><br />Visiting some of the cities you just have the feeling that the communist regime, like many do nowadays around the world, used this country to over produce to enrich themselves not caring for the harm done to Nature or the population, keeping them quiet with free houses and vodka.<br />Only sixteen years have past since the Soviet union disappeared and seems that people are still living the same way, where things get done not thinking about the consequences.<br /><br />Armenians are really curious, friendly and specially strong. Even though the complicated situation to find a job after the communist left, or the bad conditions of the public services, or the tense relation that they have with many of the neighbour countries, including a still active war with Azerbaijan over the area of Nagorno Karabakh, they talk proudly about their country and how it will soon progress.<br />Some of that progress it is happening because some non-governmental organizations like the Peace corps from the U.S, whose are spread all over this country and many others trying to help developing the area in many aspects like business, environmental care or teaching.</div><br /><div>Thanks to Penny Porter, one of the volunteers working with some of the schools in Kapan, we enjoyed a couple of days of her hospitality and we felt like home. we met a few of the other volunteers in the area and probably had the best meals so far in this trip, just before heading south to Iran.</div><div></div><div>Thanks again Penny! </div><div></div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-67680991732005840682008-02-22T09:32:00.000-08:002008-02-22T10:16:47.028-08:00LOOKING FOR THE HIDDEN CAMERAWe reached the border of Georgia by foot and getting the precious stamp to let us out, we just realized that we were in the middle of nowhere with no transportation far beyond the imaginary line that was telling us that we were in Georgia.<br />At the same time that we where crossing the border, a van appeared with three Turkish guys and we tried our luck. After discussing an expensive price ans letting go our last Turkish currency we joined the trio...at that time we still did not know what was coming!<br /><br />Some people say that a country can change you and and your traditions, well we definitely could see that as we saw a couple of naked ladies being really "friendly" with each other in the small screen that the van was equipped with. We looked to each other and start laughing as they did while they were shouting " here, no problem ".<br />I guess religion has to get its passport stamped too.<br /><br />After a few minutes one of the guys realizes that he has done a big mistake on leaving the chains for the snow in the border as the van get its wheels stacked in the snow in the first steep slope in our way.<br />After pushing the van for a while and starting to think that maybe joining the fantastic trio was not a good idea, we managed to get by thanks to the car that was circulating behind us. We used one of his chains for the snow tied up with a dodgy string found in the middle of the road after learning that the chain was too small for the van's wheels.<br />Bad luck! we thought at that moment, but in less than a minute we started looking for the hidden camera as the driver realized that he was out of gas but not after stopping in a petrol station and buy some cigarettes for himself five minutes before!.<br />Luckily for us the " Saint" was still driving behind us so he could drive one of the guys and get some petrol which we managed to get finally to the next town where we hoped to get a bus ride...The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-69660249474120230892008-02-05T09:25:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:32.153-08:00Gule Gule Turkey<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mJ2U2amwMEtAbgQBCMM0ephv6fXaUKJ6-V1uAAxm-R63laTLbseVDqs_-HR3kcaIe3DG1KUDwVKeG5E4sPqr2D2xmtbInY-VPrDOfgWBJUuuhudpmXix9y2rTPR4A_BFe31vvDulwTns/s1600-h/_GLS2571.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1mJ2U2amwMEtAbgQBCMM0ephv6fXaUKJ6-V1uAAxm-R63laTLbseVDqs_-HR3kcaIe3DG1KUDwVKeG5E4sPqr2D2xmtbInY-VPrDOfgWBJUuuhudpmXix9y2rTPR4A_BFe31vvDulwTns/s400/_GLS2571.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163565619286719938" border="0" /></a><br />Nearly two weeks travelling and exploring some of the places along the eastern Turkey. A region where not many organized tours adventure themselves, specially now that the situation between Kurds and the Turkish governament is getting a bit complicated; again a situation where nobody is wrong or right and many feelings are involved.<br />Sanliurfa, the city of prophets, was our first stop. The city is famous for, as history says, being the birth place of the prophet Ibrahim, nowadays one of the biggest pilgrimage places in the Muslim world. A place with a Middle Eastern touch thanks to the proximity of Syria, where people drink their tea in the sun enjoying the milder Winter while they are curious about us, where the proudly say that they are Kurdish, where Salvar (traditional baggy Arabic pants) are the thing to wear, where oranges taste like honey, where the first university was founded, and specially where people makes you feel really welcomed with their kindness and big smiles on their wrinkled faces when you sit down by their side because they have just invited you for a tea and have a conversation.<br /><br />Leaving Sanliurfa we headed to Diyarbakir, the "Kurdistan capital", with its second world longest wall around the city and where old Karavanserays are still working as resting places for those with enough money to pay it.<br />Climbing the city walls you can recreate your eyesight with the historical Mesopotamia and the Tigris river, while the local kids practice their English with you and try to sell you a packet of tissues.<br />Thanks to Morat, who act as our guide, we learn about the Armenian Orthodox minority to be found in the city and also we discover the newest part of the city just outside the walls where you enjoy a Kurdish music concert and even try to emulate them in their traditional dance as we did with no much success.<br /><br />With snow along the dangerous road we make it to Van. A quick visit to discover that everything around is covered with snow and the chances to visit the huge lake and the Armenian churches to be found on it are really slim if you do not carry much cash on you.<br /><br />Keep going north and with sunshine to enjoy the views along the white landscape a 5000 meters wall appears in the horizon, impressive Mount Ararat invite us to stay in Dogubayazit, the town just at the foot of the mountain. Once there the chance to behold one of those magic sunsets and the " Thousand and One Nights" Ishak Pasa palace placed like a diamond in a small plateau in the cliffs of the mountain, are more than enough reasons to consider yourself really lucky for being there. Even though some locals walk around with AK-47 hanging on their shoulders.<br /><br />The calendar is running more than we would like and we set off to Kars, our last stop before crossing to Georgia.<br />Kars is literally buried under the snow , as locals say "this could Siberia"and they are not far from the true as you walk around the frozen streets under the menacing -25 Celsius in the thermometer. The snow and the cold are not enough reason to stop us from bargain down the price for a taxi to visit the ruins of Ani.<br />Historical and amazing Ani is a place where you can breathe ancient times with empires that each one of them left a prove of their greatness as to let everyone know that they once were kings in this land.<br /><br />With all that already saved in our minds and cameras it is time for us to say farewell to this country, where personally I would describe as an amazing mixture of cultures where its people is its biggest treasure.<br /><br />Gule Gule Turkey!!The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-73828879350154124752008-01-25T11:28:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:32.325-08:00CAPPADOCIA<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbl3LB18cEVjqyzrPDgR4_VoUDhI-skzkHN21hNixDT6mEY_ZlY8tPJMj39YDRRswtoO2wRpER5IVgQH1a0TmfBjBAgmn-HKUopD0QfnMOC37QBP-4_CgHiAMlw6Zds84v6S1KPFa-qoxx/s1600-h/_GLS2081.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159505367658479026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbl3LB18cEVjqyzrPDgR4_VoUDhI-skzkHN21hNixDT6mEY_ZlY8tPJMj39YDRRswtoO2wRpER5IVgQH1a0TmfBjBAgmn-HKUopD0QfnMOC37QBP-4_CgHiAMlw6Zds84v6S1KPFa-qoxx/s400/_GLS2081.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Thirteen hours in the bus just to arrive in time to enjoy the sunrise with the magnificent view of Cappadocia where we decide for Goreme as our base camp for the next week.</div><br /><div>Rent a car is our best option and with the good Chilean company of Ale and Maria we explore at our pace the vast and hiding surroundings of Goreme.</div><br /><div>Painted churches inside stone carved caves, stıll standing Caravanserai's that use to be resting places for the merchants travellings the ancient Silk Road, amazing landscapes, unbelievable rock shapes making you wonder how are they still standing and how amazingly people made of them their home, are some of the reasons why Cappadocia is so famous.</div><br /><div>Temperatures of -10 degrees Celsius keep most of the travellers away from this place at this time of year, except the eager and numerous Korean and Japanese , all with their modern and tinny gadgets and their noisy plastic bags that they seem not to hear at six in the morning when they wake up to join the tour that will take them to see the sunrise.</div><br /><div>We walk for a week the winding valleys, all of them with different english names like Pigeon, Red or Rose not forgetting the famous Love valley with its obvious shapes of the rock formations to be seen on it.</div><div>Done with the cold, the ice and the snow but thanking for the seven sunny days ın a row that we had. After checking the calendar we realized that our time in Turkey is running out and it is time for us to keep going East.</div><div>Unfortunately we have to say goodbye to some good friends that we made in Goreme.</div><div>All the best to Ale, Marıa and Françoıse.</div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-12513817852022341842008-01-25T10:41:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:32.510-08:00CAMELS AND RUINS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaGedJ-MaP_dBNG9pbm-U_WVMUnrchdkTvYKFDvptNpoyyzM1iPrJrBC9NXIkIWLOjmeY_iY3nAMNEE-6ihwsIBumncGbhJJzoFIy74RawgFme5_qJ2USdjv6aTiITCoN_lLUlDRLxaIa/s1600-h/_GLS1438.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159497563702902178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpaGedJ-MaP_dBNG9pbm-U_WVMUnrchdkTvYKFDvptNpoyyzM1iPrJrBC9NXIkIWLOjmeY_iY3nAMNEE-6ihwsIBumncGbhJJzoFIy74RawgFme5_qJ2USdjv6aTiITCoN_lLUlDRLxaIa/s320/_GLS1438.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>After nearly a month in Istanbul we headed south to the Aegean historical coast of Turkey.</div><br /><div>Skipping Ayvalik as our first stop due to the few accommodation available for backpackers, we arrived to Bergama, famous to be the place where the parchment was invented!.</div><br /><div>Ancient Greek ruins, narrow streets and prayers that can be heard five times a day coming from the mosques are a good combination to spend some time waiting for the Camel wrestling, just three days ahead.</div><br /><div>Friendly faces as we ask for directions to arrive to the exact whereabouts to see the famous camels, and after a few wrong turns due to our poor Turkish we finally managed to see some humps ın the horizon. Cheered up for that and welcomed with an unforgettable smell we pay the 10 lira (6 Euros) to assist the event.</div><br /><div>Camels are big celebrities around here, some of them are named as Davıd Bechkam, and the show up their many bells and different coloured ornaments indication of their high ranking.</div><br /><div></div><div>Some for pride and some for money, the camel owners push their beasts with foamy mouths to fight each other. Some run away, some bite their adversary testicles but most of them push really hard with their body until the opponent gives up and the people get crazy for the winner.</div><div>As for me , I look around to the stands where the sell delicious camel sausage sandwiches and think about the poor looser...</div><br /><div>Not many tourists to be seen around and feeling welcomed by the locals we get mixed with the spectators while the Gypsies play their songs to entertain the public and others seem to have had a bit more Raky (local spirit) than usual when they dance on top of their trucks.</div><br /><div>Great spectacle!!</div><br /><div>Time for us to redo our backpacks again and keep heading south where a few more degrees in the thermometer as well as for what they proudly say the extremely well preserved Greek ruins of Ephesus.</div><div>The ruins are great and even the three of four extra buses of Japanese in low season, the sunny sky adds up a great way to spend our last day in the ancient west coast before heading for as the forecast announce... the freezing Cappadocia.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-22302860865769103182008-01-10T06:26:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:33.081-08:00VISAS WILL MAKE YOUR TRIP SHORTER.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjas5U6iQXa0DrwTwn5EThKfyMyzSpnZGQ4CVHGIqUnVnolcokuhIZUCxnaQE3pZx0b-uM-Isxkkf_TRwzZLFQtI4BXf6eWLAs9DbN6Q0bJGjQGCTsIJjXN12fnTMTBZEdKTbVYzj9VlWt/s1600-h/_JFG5689.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjas5U6iQXa0DrwTwn5EThKfyMyzSpnZGQ4CVHGIqUnVnolcokuhIZUCxnaQE3pZx0b-uM-Isxkkf_TRwzZLFQtI4BXf6eWLAs9DbN6Q0bJGjQGCTsIJjXN12fnTMTBZEdKTbVYzj9VlWt/s320/_JFG5689.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153869718324752642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGXUIm1RVNewtXyRiFU1jiVD6fT14pMy-tgCY2swGuMoR2ChXv0bLikLmwVkNC3vLL40YtXm-eRP9Hqyn4DV5HNnJ01X55N09RngPqDBiQLZymoc_sKFCkiiMUDuQMYubZSrsAUP0D66b/s1600-h/_JFG5692.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGGXUIm1RVNewtXyRiFU1jiVD6fT14pMy-tgCY2swGuMoR2ChXv0bLikLmwVkNC3vLL40YtXm-eRP9Hqyn4DV5HNnJ01X55N09RngPqDBiQLZymoc_sKFCkiiMUDuQMYubZSrsAUP0D66b/s320/_JFG5692.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153867776999534834" border="0" /></a><br />Finally and after a bit more than three weeks in Istanbul, we are pleased to say that it is time for us to get our backpacks ready and keep going...<br /><div>As a mild and modern version of the Midnight Express, this city and waiting for the colourful stickers to be attached in the pages of our passports have been enough reason to be our "cell" and keep our mileage to minimum.</div>We have been staying ın the friendly Mavi Guesthouse, where having a hot shower sometimes and heating in the room are luxuries not affordable for backpackers.<br /><div> </div>Just before New Year's Eve, a nice group from Uruguay and Argentina came around, added to a few long term friends from the guesthouse was a nice mixture to have an interesting ending for 2007, when having a passport can make a whole of a difference in how your new year will start.<br /><div> </div>We also had the chance to get our hands dirty as we worked for our accommodation painting the rooftop of the mentioned guesthouse....after all a bit of normal work would do us no harm.<br /><br /><div>With the new year, new hopes and resolutions , and with them the so waited visas for Iran ( 60 euros) and Uzbekistan ( 100 us dollars) . With them we wıll have our passage granted and with those prices for a single entry, we will definitely have our trip shortened!.</div>Now it is time for us to "convince" as well the Turkmenistan's embassy that we are good people...<br /><div> </div><br /><div>Tonight we set off to Ayvalik, where we are hopping to assist and photograph our first event of camel wrestling! </div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-32162587188873584522008-01-03T08:56:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:33.269-08:00SANTA DOES NOT COME FOR CHRISTMAS<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtszZWTAlAxRObzTDw9NiSwH0X9SYgMPrGB2a7Ik70dovxMqqJx4tY2uilkGE23eQGUS6Feo5HC3JCK4LCwug-SZYl9Zx-qs_D3yeqxbKKRf4IJCgy6zPNOd49TapDnsycR03oX9v0M4kC/s1600-h/_GLS0050.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151310239938883794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" height="211" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtszZWTAlAxRObzTDw9NiSwH0X9SYgMPrGB2a7Ik70dovxMqqJx4tY2uilkGE23eQGUS6Feo5HC3JCK4LCwug-SZYl9Zx-qs_D3yeqxbKKRf4IJCgy6zPNOd49TapDnsycR03oX9v0M4kC/s320/_GLS0050.JPG" width="316" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Thirty-sıx hours watching the waves passing by with not much to do than play cards between the " taste alike" meals served by the friendly staff of the ferry, was our experience crossing the black sea towards Istanbul.</div><br /><div>We woke up the second day with the sun revealing the coastline along the Bosphorus, famous for separating Europe and Asıa... Finally here!</div><div>In the ferry we meet some fellow travellers, such as Maximo and Belen from Argentina and the funny Shev from Japan, whose helped us exploring the city in our first day.</div><br /><div>Istanbul wakes up everyday with the mystic singing coming from the minarets of the many Mosques that you can find everywhere you look at. Some of them stunning and historical as Aya Sofya and the Blue Mosque but really hard to photograph as they deserve.</div><div></div><div>Just before Christmas, Muslims around Turkey enjoy the Kurban Bayrami in which for four days they sacrifice cows and lambs to celebrate that, as the Qur'an says, Ibrahim didn't have to kill his own son as Allah asked hım to do in the first time , only changing his decision for a lamb just when Ibrahim was about to do it. All the meat afterwards it is given to charity and shared in between each family.</div><div>Luckily for us we can enjoy this celebration ın a more "tourıst friendly" place near the Suleymainye Mosque where people thought that we were press reporters covering the event.</div><br /><div>It was also time for us to apply for our visas for Iran and Uzbekistan knowing that the city was gonna be celebrating for four days, just until before Christmas, when everybody gets back to work, making for us hardly to notice that it was the day to sit around the table and enjoy the turkey... Santa did not pass around here!</div><div>Waiting for the new years we have nearly one more week to explore the hidden places that Istanbul has to offer, realizing that Turkish driving license it is more related to lottery than their own skill.</div><div>Quiet, beautiful and welcoming Mosques make me think that maybe and just maybe Muslims are a bit more tolerant and friendly than some of our close by Christians fellows want us to believe.<br /></div><div></div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-29770342069552228612007-12-21T07:53:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:33.378-08:00" MAFIA...YOU UNDERSTAND?"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6c-OcYeeYIDcuvAHZeXROsbI_Bi7OQa9W5VD6w_kQFcu5nud_hrhRVdHkhNZiZI6yNIIiDpSahRltA3aVSB3OwenSIlDSVuQgVbUgPhssoPsU8BWW-DeoHfhuYJpheIG7BHUVVfiP9NT/s1600-h/_GLS9745.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148689446599897282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT6c-OcYeeYIDcuvAHZeXROsbI_Bi7OQa9W5VD6w_kQFcu5nud_hrhRVdHkhNZiZI6yNIIiDpSahRltA3aVSB3OwenSIlDSVuQgVbUgPhssoPsU8BWW-DeoHfhuYJpheIG7BHUVVfiP9NT/s320/_GLS9745.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Some Will say that Moldavia is probably one of the poorest countries in Europe, You just wouldn't say the same ıf you walk along the streets of Chisinau, the capital.<br />Well dressed people, flashy lights and plenty of BMW and Mercedes decorating its parking places.<br />As our friend says " - This country mafia, you understand?". Octav explains us that he belongs to S.İ.S, the secret police of Moldavia, and after sitting by his side ın a cheap restaurant he offered us his protection for only 30 Euros per day.<br />For us it's just hard enough not to laugh while he gives us his telephone number and ask us to give him a cal next day so he can protect us from the mafia outside.<br /><br />Before reaching Moldavia, we payed our visit to the painted monasteries of the Romanian region of Bucovina. Four days waiting for a sunny day and a rented car are the best option to enjoy these unique and fully working monasterıes with its well respected moody nuns that take care of the place.<br /><br />İn our minds we had just Odessa (Ukraine), because we knew that was the last stop before Istanbul where we where gonna be arriving by sea as old pirates used to do...<br />Leaving Romania and stopping overnight in Moldavia we follow our plan and we go across into Ukraine heading to Odessa, famous for the stairs in the movie called "battleship Potemkin".<br />Once in Odessa we manage to book our ferry that won't be leaving in five days.<br />This city use to be really important for the WW II, now is famous for its...<br /><br />İf you ever come to Ukraine you will know what İ am talking about</div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-79530018689219989882007-12-06T11:11:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:33.848-08:00100% ECOLOGIC<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bc4i5D637FXNwLhiOddWDq5SkIapDOhaddhrpg5uDzHrQyZ5Rpi7CkHbrbO-FL2EiUpE603OesyO1k9AbB983xWzKSQ6jBkgjcdWZEXRLqfiINeBc5y8UQwGnRbrmrrx2DlriitAnp1B/s1600-h/_JFG4248.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140950975449998146" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4bc4i5D637FXNwLhiOddWDq5SkIapDOhaddhrpg5uDzHrQyZ5Rpi7CkHbrbO-FL2EiUpE603OesyO1k9AbB983xWzKSQ6jBkgjcdWZEXRLqfiINeBc5y8UQwGnRbrmrrx2DlriitAnp1B/s320/_JFG4248.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bF7LwVQpchbyIq-_nWaym0BXxNdFj-vtpD0eq19aFQDqNhSRxfhw1k7X-DgmrxDuyfz1SDpwbmh_qrHlz3qLv9H5dBhlpK5stkhpjKRfez-nxW4oqB8XY_9p5w3vrG2QzouI-HXrgA_v/s1600-h/_GLS9357.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140950790766404402" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bF7LwVQpchbyIq-_nWaym0BXxNdFj-vtpD0eq19aFQDqNhSRxfhw1k7X-DgmrxDuyfz1SDpwbmh_qrHlz3qLv9H5dBhlpK5stkhpjKRfez-nxW4oqB8XY_9p5w3vrG2QzouI-HXrgA_v/s320/_GLS9357.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Some people say that it hasn't changed at all in the last century ... well they are not far from the truth when they describe Maramures!. </div><div>Located in the northern part of Romania, just in the border with Ukraine, Maramures has been our destination for the last few days after visiting the student city of Cluj-Napoca.</div><br /><div>In this region, formed by a sum of small villages with names impossible to remember and pronounce, you can find traditional clothing , horse pulled carts, animal markets and curious graveyards with colourful painted crosses.</div><br /><div>In the town of Sieu, no pension or anything like it to be found at this time of the year, so after asking some locals and not getting more than the expression in their faces of " who are you?" and " what the hell are you doing here when not even us leave the house because it is way to cold?", an old interesting couple took us in their home, offering a bed and traditional food... all just for a reasonable price of course.</div><div>We spent two days visiting many villages , enjoying their hospitality and the nice tradition to pick up hitchhikers. </div><div>Curiosity is a big thing in this people...some of them stop and ask where are you from, others just smile back when you say hello, and the most adventurous ones, invite you over their places for a hot milk or a shot of their home brewed "palinka" to warm you up!. They are just happy to tell you their stories in mixture of Romanian, french, German or even Spanish.</div><br /><div>Feels really good to have "proper food" at least for two days. In the house of Gheorghe and Doca we happily enjoy part of their culture, a lot of palinka ( medicine, as Gheorghe calls it) and excellent food " 100% ecologic" as they laugh proudly letting us know that everything on the plate is home grown.</div><div>We learn that Gheorge has to buy a cow , so we decide to go with him to the animal market before catching our bus. Once in the market, the freezing cold, the mud everywhere, the <span style="color:#333333;">wrinkled </span>faces of the people and the noisy squealing pigs makes of it a memorable experience.</div><br /><div>Our next stop is Suceva,in the Bucovina area, world known for their hand painted frescoes on their facades. </div><div>Definitely looking forward for it!!</div><br /><br /><div></div></div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-18897220231851595172007-11-28T08:30:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:34.028-08:00FAMILY RESTAURANT: CASA DRACULA<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsm4sZH42PPhQTt8h8aCwQGi_RlqZlRlPFG3JFvhbHPwul2ORAdhIXvXAvQIVNwFrLz-JewM16aystsNub5ss9BbQHWqa9HlRJrkCVPLY6A7uC8W7au9NqEkURTG_1WVzI_5q87_hKnbCh/s1600-h/_GLS9285.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsm4sZH42PPhQTt8h8aCwQGi_RlqZlRlPFG3JFvhbHPwul2ORAdhIXvXAvQIVNwFrLz-JewM16aystsNub5ss9BbQHWqa9HlRJrkCVPLY6A7uC8W7au9NqEkURTG_1WVzI_5q87_hKnbCh/s400/_GLS9285.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137955866791742834" border="0" /></a><br />Across the border we go where Oradea is our first stop in the peculiar Romania.<br />Many expectations created about this country, we are definitely sure to find much more that its ancient history of blood sucking lords.<br />-" this place has really changed" affirms Jorge as he compares the way of living nowadays with the one he saw ten years ago in his last visit.<br />In the road from Oradea to Sibiu (European cultural capital this year) and after eight hours of stop and go, get frozen and squeezed in the minibus, we can observe that wooden carts have been replaced for the famous Dacia Logan, the"best selling" car in Romania since this one was built.<br />Looking around we have the feeling that this country has been rushed into the wealthy and tempting European community category... few examples.<br /><br />* You can see how some Roma people ( gypsies ) are brave enough to explore the world of the Internet without knowing that mixing your fizzy soft drink with the keyboard is not a good idea.<br /><br />* traveling through their road you can realize that they spend more money in the signs to inform you of the bad status of the road ahead that actually bother in fixing them.<br /><br />*Also you can enjoy a tasty but expensive "rare" cooked meat in the family restaurant that they have done from the original birth place of Vlad Dracul, I'm sure he will be turning in his grave!<br />As i said before, quite a peculiar country, but so far it is the one I like the most.<br /><br />After Sibiu and capturing a few shots from the nice locals , we head to Brasov, in the heart of the famous Transylvania. Four days there teach us that the myth of Dracula is a merchandising machine and also a good excuse to make up stories like the one of the castle where he lived or how many turks he impaled carrying name of the church.<br />Snow is to be seen everywhere, which give us the perfect excuse and scenery added to the full moon, to pay a visit to an old church and its graveyard pursuing the perfect creepy shot.<br />Definitely worth it to try in this region of the world.... Scary!The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-19927911720046207212007-11-23T06:55:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:34.243-08:00ICE ON YOUR HOT TUB?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL3i-wMUZZ-cy6_VS7Cor4m-jMM09LDe4arrIV4-p8TdcLE8yyGWe-GhFkJ74OKMPulc7VdDVKyat4IgAhRUn7sVEyRxotLT2Pz4ow9NwZ8MLu9XnGOcjLApJz1-tCrB_rm18e1RSkKLM/s1600-h/_GLS8828.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136055902109011282" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtL3i-wMUZZ-cy6_VS7Cor4m-jMM09LDe4arrIV4-p8TdcLE8yyGWe-GhFkJ74OKMPulc7VdDVKyat4IgAhRUn7sVEyRxotLT2Pz4ow9NwZ8MLu9XnGOcjLApJz1-tCrB_rm18e1RSkKLM/s320/_GLS8828.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>That was the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">question we</span> kept hearing in our minds as the snow flakes tainted our hair in white while we were enjoying one of the popular thermal baths of the city.</div><br /><br /><div>Well... Budapest is a great place. Turkish, German, Venetian, Jewish and Magyar culture all mixed in a city divided in two by the not so <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">blue</span> Danube.</div><br /><div>Seven days relaxing in the thermal baths, Psycho Mutants concert and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">traditional</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Hungarian</span> food can do no harm to anyone.</div><br /><div>For one week we are two more within the big tourist movement in Budapest, even when at this time of year you can nearly freeze your hands trying to get a decent shot from the bridges...</div><br /><div>As tourists we also "enjoy" scam by the fake lost guy in the middle of <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">the</span> city and his friend playing the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">role</span> of the good police... Unfortunately for them, it did not work out after we asked twice to see his identification batch and the only thing that we could see was his <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">video club</span> membership card.</div><br /><div>Ready for the move and with our back feeling much better after a few days not having to carry the backpacks from A to B, we say goodbye to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Buda</span> and Pest with its seven bridges to unite them.</div><br /><div>Our next stop, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Eger</span>, With its famous "Valley of the beautiful women"...hey! nothing to cheer about! it is only its origin denomination for their famous wine. </div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-44119824659600925832007-11-14T14:43:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:34.337-08:00THE " MOSQUE-CHURCH"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqOlxedr2aqW2Vms3-vqTdp26_x99vdYq1E5jUYr5msQI8Hy89UgmGaGx2tYD51XM9UZU_WB3_z4oweOOHz5ff3MMr_ozGPLSmR0GJPg_9EoqG-BLZeX-pm8zDLCSLlt2Z1C5e7281PaqY/s1600-h/%C3%9Aj+k%C3%A9p.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqOlxedr2aqW2Vms3-vqTdp26_x99vdYq1E5jUYr5msQI8Hy89UgmGaGx2tYD51XM9UZU_WB3_z4oweOOHz5ff3MMr_ozGPLSmR0GJPg_9EoqG-BLZeX-pm8zDLCSLlt2Z1C5e7281PaqY/s400/%C3%9Aj+k%C3%A9p.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132836117101944642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Straight streets and elegant architecture on each side of the street as we stroll around Szeged kicking golden Autumn leaves in our way. Szeged is considered a college town and grateful for that we are able to find accommodation for the night before heading to Pecs, where unknown friends are waiting for us.<br /><br />Kata, Jan and Sarah ( sorry for the misspelling!!) are a beautiful family whom used their own hands to build their home, where little Sarah learns Hungarian and German without realizing it.<br />This small town is well worth it to be the next European Culture Capital in 2010. Plenty of festivals when is not too cold, Turkish ruins, Churches and a nice Synagogue are only a few of the things this place has to offer.<br />They even use an old Mosque as their main Church!!. Definitely not many of those to be seen anywhere.<br /><br />Thanks to our friends we can learn and enjoy a bit more of the local way of living and also we are introduced to the "Psycho Mutants", a local band that hopefully we will be enjoying their concert in Budapest.<br />Meeting people like them makes travelling easier and thousand times better....<br />Thanks again guys!!The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-51537897022896263042007-11-14T14:07:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:34.442-08:00DRAWINGS IN OUR PASSPORTS<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08oifmuhP1IWGxfMWzcptFUV963iO6S3di9gqZLNprR8XcCbYt5D1fedWovHc_Xn2XL-As2btpXjxwdV_OBqDLvFZqkNSOG-jYnwigRZ9IiOnELQMVd0HO9SUT42gH5e4gxZOWnDc5nja/s1600-h/_GLS8621.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08oifmuhP1IWGxfMWzcptFUV963iO6S3di9gqZLNprR8XcCbYt5D1fedWovHc_Xn2XL-As2btpXjxwdV_OBqDLvFZqkNSOG-jYnwigRZ9IiOnELQMVd0HO9SUT42gH5e4gxZOWnDc5nja/s400/_GLS8621.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132829678945967890" border="0" /></a><br />We leave <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Mostar</span> not before having a big scary moment when I crossed the whole city thinking that I had left my hard drive with all my pictures forgotten in a Internet cafe already closed...<br />Luckily this time i was wrong.<br /><br />Rain takes over our steps as we pass Sarajevo and Belgrade, it seems like the weather is trying to tell us something...like if we were taking the wrong route.<br />Not willing to risk much and following the Nature advice we change our minds and we decide to go to Hungary, hopping to find warmer people that just could smile when you are trying to buy a train ticket or answer something different than " no information here...search on the Internet!" when you are asking something in the tourist information office.<br /><br />For a few days we enjoy the good OZ company of Suzie and Andrea ( I hope they are written properly).<br /><br />The city of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Novi</span> Sad is in our way north and definitely gets the prize as the ugliest city of the month...I have to say that the weather and the name did not help at all.<br />We do our last stop before Hungary in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Subotica</span>, where the whistle of the train remind us that we are happy to leave Serbia behind.<br />Just a couple of hours separate us from Hungary, and with rain enjoying the ride with us again, we make it to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Szeged</span>, where in the border, we can see trough the window the funny faces of the immigration officers as they look the drawings in our passports.<br /><br />Just crossing the border and the people seems to have sense of humor'The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5393029351853332582.post-55472075835190906762007-11-04T08:57:00.000-08:002008-12-12T22:48:34.598-08:00WAKE UP!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmEMKYkivbewVpsAQcQewMao6kfpIOKEO9NlFwQtuYe0KM6pv6ryn0TRrECwVABynLKCYitkSMxZS3TSaGKqpBzBiu1g8m9m_GaQqWYNEZrdZ52vfHXG0vuSJr-stHDYrj71PBIRb2634/s1600-h/%C3%9Aj+k%C3%A9p.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwmEMKYkivbewVpsAQcQewMao6kfpIOKEO9NlFwQtuYe0KM6pv6ryn0TRrECwVABynLKCYitkSMxZS3TSaGKqpBzBiu1g8m9m_GaQqWYNEZrdZ52vfHXG0vuSJr-stHDYrj71PBIRb2634/s400/%C3%9Aj+k%C3%A9p.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130404569861600610" border="0" /></a><br /><div> " It wasn't a real war.... only brothers fooling around with each other pretending having a war"<br />-affirms the biker that we met in Zadar...<br />Of course he only went as far as Dubrovnik and through the Croatian coast.<br /><br />Once you leave Croatia and arrive to Mostar (Bosnia and Herzegovina), you just need to look around to realize that the "adventurous" biker was completely wrong.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">WAKE UP!!!</span> <span style="font-weight: bold;">The nice days travelling comfortably around Europe are over!!<br /></span>That is the feeling through our minds as we enter this city.<br />Shattered schools, offices, Mosques, Churches, and other buildings everywhere are the scenery that locals can see everyday since 15 years ago. I guess that i gets to a point that you forget how it was and get used at how it is.<br />The old town, with it new bridge as jumping point for the brave divers, is where more or less you can not see many crumbled buildings and where if you do not look around much, you would think that it is just a nice old city with a peculiar variety of cultures and religions.<br />No beautiful pictures to be taken here, just enough to witness what happened and what is probably happening right now in many places in the world that we do not hear about in the mass media.<br />Who is wrong and who is right I guess is a matter of opinion. This land and its people is a chess service controlled by few.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span><br /></div>The beginninghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11758790978050846585noreply@blogger.com0