a year abroad has moved

I've moved to New Zealand, and 'a year abroad' has moved to www.backpackingmatt.com

Check it out.

a year abroad ... ends

My 'year' abroad will come to an end on the 16th of this month, some fifteen months after originally leaving home. Tomorrow, I'll be flying from Istanbul to Edinburgh to spend one week with Nicole. On the 16th, I'll be flying home with a short layover in Dublin. It only seems fitting that my time spent abroad will end in the city where this trip of a lifetime once began.

To say I have mixed emotions over my decision to move home is, by all means, an understatement. I'm excited at what will come, yet nervous at the unknown and the many decisions to be made, and depressed that this period in my life is coming to a close. While I'm not looking forward to the end of my travels, I am at the same time trying to be realistic about the situation. Financially, I don't have a choice; considering this, there is no need to stress over the uncontrollable.

I have developed a love of traveling, of meeting new people, of experiencing new cultures, and more than anything, a love of living my day to day life outside of my comfort zone. I'm convinced this won't be the last time I find myself traveling the world. There is still so much to see in this world, and the thought of never traveling again is frightening. I'm excited at the thought of once again leaving home - again feeling the rush, the excitement, and the nerves of what comes when leaving everything that has become comfortable to you.

This time I've spent abroad has been an experience I'll remember for the rest of my life. It has been invaluable, but it certainly hasn't been easy. For 15 months I've been separated from family, from familiarity, and from old friendships. This being said, I've met so many people along the way who have undoubtedly helped to shape the person I've become. It has been an opportunity for me to learn more about who I am, what I want to be, and hopefully enabled me to understand the world around me just a little bit better.

Thanks to you all for following me on this journey. You are the ones that drove me to sit down, to reflect, and to document my travels. All the best, cheers,

mk

A turkish shave ...

When Brian, Peter, and I were in Izmir a couple weeks ago, we decided one evening to get our beards trimmed and our hair cut at a Turkish barber. We had read many good things in our guidebook about the experience - for little more than 10YTL (aprox $7), you can spend an hour or so getting a full barber experience.

I imagine the whole experience would have been more enjoyable if I spoke fluent Turkish. I envision the experience being a very social event. And, I imagine if I was Turkish, mine would have ended differently than it did.

After walking into the barber shop, I asked the young barber how much for a beard shave and a hair cut - he pointed at my beard and said 5YTL and then my hair and said 5YTL. Ten Turkish Lira - perfect. Lonely Planet was accurate.

He sat me down and got to work. After trimming my long beard of nearly two months with his clippers, he got out some warm shaving cream and a soft brush. He painted my face with this warm cream and then began to shave my face with a proper, open blade. Five minutes later, I was left with a bald face - a strange feeling as I hadn't been been baby bald in probably close to eight months.

When he finished shaving my beard, he wiped the remaining cream off with a warm towel. He then got to work on my hair - perhaps luckily, he didn't take much off. After seeing Brian's haircut, I'm not sure I'd trust his work on my hair as much I would my face. When the trimming was done, he laid the chair back and washed and massaged my hair. After toweling my hair dry, he pointed at my hair and face and said, "Problem." He then picked up a bowl filled with some sort of cream, pointed, and said "No Problem." Next thing I knew, he was painting this cool cream all over my hair, face, and neck. Within minutes, it was beginning to solidify. I must say, the mask was quite soothing.

When the barber had decided the mask was sufficiently hard enough, he began to peel it away using a warm, sticky, wax-like substance. After one more hair and face wash in the sink and some Turkish hairstyling, my barber experience was nearly finished.



When the haircuts were finished, we sat around, drank tea, and tried to communicate with each other - not easy considering the language barrier. When we were ready to go, I asked him how much it would be for the three haircuts. After the 10YTL quote for me, I anticipated it being 30YTL for the three of us. How wrong I was. Mr. Turkish Barber said for the three of us, he wanted 150YTL. He was trying to say that the masks he painted on our faces were extra - not true, according to our book. After much arguing, we were able to get out for 15YTL each - still more than we deserved to pay, but significantly better than the 150YTL he wanted to get.

A frustrating way for a really good experience to end. Live and learn, I suppose.

paris. pictures.

Below you'll find pictures from my whirlwind tour of Paris ... I enjoyed Paris, but I don't think I'll rush back to the city. If you need a refresher on my time there, here is a link to my quick post about Paris.

arriving at the station.

unique building we came across while looking for a place to stay.

the place we found. cheap, but a wee bit dodgy. any time you're quoted a certain price for a room, and an additional charge for the use of a shower, you know something isn't right. Moreover, the 'hotel' didn't have a toilet - anywhere. only the pictured bidet.

the saint michel fountain. the meeting place for parisians.

an English language bookstore in paris. traveling writers can stay upstairs in exchange for a couple of hours work each day. once a popular meeting place for hemingway.

notre dame de paris


my foot. directly in the center of the world ... or france. france's 'kilometer zero,' where the distances to all cities in france are measured from. old napoleon insisted it wasn't the center of paris but the center of the world.

brian and i. look at his designer shades - he's so european.

a picture of some windows at the louvre. a massive museum that dwarfs any i've seen. if you look closely at one of the panes on the left side window, you'll notice a small, orange dot. these dots mark the rooms where the museum's most prized works are housed. this way, in the unlikely and catastrophic event of a fire, the authorities know what rooms to tackle first. interesting piece of trivia gained from the walking tour.

some minimalistic work photographed through different colored window panes.

me, trying the typical 'pinching the eiffel tower' shot. photographer error.

better.

the eiffel tower, illuminated in blue. according to a man who spoke little english, it was lit up this way in anticipation for the us presidential elections. but, i've since heard, it had something to do with an EU event going on in town. either way, the eiffel tower, illuminated in blue.

pictured: the mona lisa. not pictured: the hundreds of tourists swarming the room trying to get pictures.

boarding the night train to munich (pictures coming soon).

One Cup of Tea ... 40 Years of Friendship

Hello from Istanbul. I arrived last night - I'm not sure why I've yet to let you know my plans, but I'll be meeting my girlfriend Nicole for four nights here in Istanbul. She arrives tonight. Excited doesn't begin to explain my feelings on again seeing her - it has been almost five weeks since we said goodbye in Edinburgh. Being separated has been difficult, but we both realize that considering our situations, separation is inevitable right now. We travel well together, so our time in Istanbul should be wonderful. At the end of June, we spent four nights in Prague - a stunning city.

Historic Charlies Bridge in the background

Pilsner Urquell

Our last night in Prague. Dinner at one of the city's best known restaurants - an epic location with views over Charles Bridge. Not at all within our budget, but well worth it.

I arrived in Turkey on Monday afternoon. A quick ferry ride from Chios brought Peter, Brian, and I to Cesme where we caught a bus to Izmir - Turkey's third largest city. From Izmir, we took a train to Selcuk and spent two nights in this smaller, more traditional Turkish town. Selcuk is located only minutes away from the ancient city of Ephesus - an area which has been inhabited since 6000 BC. Ephesus is famed for the Temple of Artemis and the Ephesus Theater which could hold 24,000 people.

I spent yesterday traveling from Izmir to Istanbul - not an easy journey. From Izmir, I took a bus, a train, and finally a ferry to finally arrive in Istanbul some eight hours later.

My experience thus far in Turkey has been indescribably amazing. The history and beauty of the country aside, Turkey is full of brilliant people. I have read so much about the kindness of the Turkish people. It has been amazing to experience the kind, hospitable, and outgoing culture first hand. Unlike Western European countries who have grown tired and sometimes bitter of the tourists which flock to their cities, Turkey embraces the tourist. Everywhere I've traveled, I've encountered a society which embraces tourists and goes out of their way to ensure you (as a traveler) have the best possible experience in their country.

Since arriving in Turkey four days ago, I've drank more tea and played more backgammon than I ever imagined was possible. Turkey is famous the world around for its coffee - brewed in its own, unique way. Turkish coffee is brewed in a special pot called a cezve; the pot is heated three times and each time taken away from the heat when the foam reaches the neck of the cezve. Prepared with sugar, Turkish coffee is thick and strong. To be honest, it's not really to my liking. I've grown far more fond of the Apple Tea which most Turkish folk drink. Brian, Peter, and I have spent a good deal of time in the traditional, Turkish Kahveane - an area where men congregate to drink tea, play the national game of tavla (backgamon), and socialize.

brian and I playing a game of tavla and drinking tea

Each time we walk into one of these Kahveanes, we are obviously immediately recognized as tourists. The men in the Kahveanes will always come to us, welcome us to Turkey, and do their best to speak with us - regardless of how good or bad their English is.

This isn't unique to the Kahveanes. Wherever I've been, I've been almost overwhelmed with the number of Turkish people who go out of their way to speak with me. Even if their English is limited to, "Where are you from?" they do everything they can to make you feel welcome in their country. As you can imagine, it's very refreshing.

Two nights ago, Brian, Peter, and I were wandering the streets of Selcuk awaiting a pick up from our hostel. As we were walking, I was fiddling with my Turkish beads I had picked up at the bazaar in Izmir. This man came up to me and let me know I was doing it all wrong ... he took them from me, and began to spin them as the Turkish do. As he was doing this, the string on which the beads were attached broke. You could instantly see the embarrassment in his eyes. He insisted on taking me to his shop and fixing the beads for me.

The three of us followed him to his nearby shop. As he was working on my beads, he offered the three of us tea. Wrongly, we first tried to object to his offer. The Turkish often are offended by the refusal of gifts or refreshments. After he continued to insist on the tea, we all accepted his offer. As we were talking, one of his mates came in and started talking with us as well. After the beads were fixed, we were invited to Ali's Turkish carpet shop where we spent the next couple hours talking, playing tavla, learning about Turkish carpets, and drinking tea. "You should never deny the offer for a cup of tea," he told us. "In Turkey, we say that one cup of tea will lead to 40 years of friendship."

amsterdam. pictures.

Perhaps a little bit late, but below you'll find pictures from my three days spent in Amsterdam. The city was filled with canals and is dubbed the, 'Venice of the North.' After traveling the continent for a month, I'd quite easily say that Amsterdam is one of the most beautiful cities I've seen.

You might notice from this photo that the buildings are leaning in towards the street a wee bit. Many of Amsterdam's flats were extremely skinny when viewed from the street - owners were taxed based on how wide their property was. With skinny buildings, sometimes not much wider than a door, you can imagine it is difficult to move furniture and the like into the flats. Sofas and other large household goods are hoisted up from the street. Considering the buildings lean in, there is more space when hoisting up goods. Not sure this makes sense, if only I could draw you a picture. Below, the red fronted flat is the skinniest property in Amsterdam.

street side public urinals.

Amsterdam is touted as being one of the most bicycle friendly cities in the world. There are bicycles lanes and racks everywhere you go. In fact, Amsterdam has its own 'bicycle parking garage' to help accommodate the 456,000 bicycles in the city.

Brian at Febo. Febo is Amsterdam's take on fast food. You walk into one of the many Febos in the city, enter one Euro into the machine, and walk out with a number of quick (albeit unhealthy) food options. Delicious.

For reasons you probably understand, the ladies working the Red Light District weren't to fond on tourists taking pictures of them. On the left side of this picture, you can see one of the streets where the Red Light District begins. The whole concept can only be described as bizarre. You've got to see it to believe it.

chios

17/11/2008 – 8:51 am

Brian, Peter, and I are on a ferry, en route to Cesme, Turkey. Peter is an American traveler I met while on the train from Patras to Athens. A recent graduate from Washington state, Peter decided to travel for six months before facing reality – not a bad idea. Brian ended up meeting up with us on Chios, where I’ve spent the last three nights.

Chios was described to me as an island that the odd unsuspecting tourist finds, falls in love with, and never leaves; after spending three nights there, I can see clearly how this is the case.


The fifth largest Greek island, Chios lies 8 kilometers off the coast of Turkey. With a population of just under 50,000 people, Chios is largely overlooked by package tourist companies – this time of year, the three of us were happy to find the island essentially to ourselves and the Greek islanders which call Chios their home. A dry, arid, and mountainous island, Chios is best known for the production of mastic. A dried, resin-like sap which comes from Mestic Trees – indigenous to the south of Chios. Villages on the south of the island form a co-operative and produce and distribute the product in a number of different forms – from gum, to cosmetic products, to foods. The three of us hired a car and spent one day exploring the island. It was fascinating to explore the Mastic villages – many of these medieval, enclosed towns of less than 1000 people.





As we wandered the streets of these villages, we saw a number of old women sitting outside of their homes, harvesting the raw mastic.



The highlight of my time in Chios oddly took place the morning I arrived from Athens. Peter and I arrived on the ferry at the ungodly hour of 4am. With no plans of where we were staying, we ended up killing time by drinking Greek coffees in the local bus station. As we were waiting for the town of Chios to wake up, I watched a beautiful sunrise over Turkey. I’ll see if I can’t continue this post later on today.


For now, Turkey and Turkish customs await.