Going to Nepal

Joe's wild, zany adventures to Nepal and at home.

26 July 2004

Does the sun always see to shine brighter when you are on holiday?  Do the clouds always seem to stack up in such a way that the sunset looks like in belongs in a painting rather in front of the dirty windshield as you tear accross the French country side at 160kph?  And is it just me, or is the French country side really that much more beautiful that places that I have seen in the States?  For some reason these things were occuring to me as we drove from Paris to Mulhouse yesterday.  Of course you can't really answer these questions, they are from the perspective of the person experiencing them, and you must take into account that persons day, week, experience to truly be able to answer it.  So consider my weekend while thinging about French sunsets and country side.  Friday Nico, Mary (his girlfriend), Justine and I all pile into the car for the drive to Paris.  A mere 480k.  The drive was wonderful, they put art on the side of the road, gotta love the French.  We arrive in Osny just north of Paris to stay with a friend of Nico's and mine from Berkeley.  And she has cooked up a wonderful dinner (Edouard-I will never again mock you family for a) taking two hours to eat, this is how it should be done b) the multiple course meal, this is how it should be done.  My sincerest apologies to your mother.).  The plan was to get up at 9 the next morning and be out of the house by 10.  Wrong.  Get breakfast at 10, fresh crossants.  And a few chocolate ones.  Out of the house by 11:30.  Nico, Mary and Justine are off to EuroDisney as Nico's reward to Justine for getting good marks in school.  Claire is taking me into Paris to drop me off so that I may play tourist for a day.  I have lofty goals.  And it is 12:30.  The Louve, Arc D'Triumph, the Eiffel tower, a canal tour, Notre Dame, and Saint Chapelle.  Then back to the Bastille to meet for dinner.  Claire leaves me with a great map that Alex gave to her at the Bastille and I set off.  Up to the Louve.  I know there is to much to see in one day, got some great advice from Alex, pick a few areas and just see those.  I arrive.  In awe of the sheer size of the complex.  Get my ticket and head for the Islamic arts area, great pieces, mostly ceramics, off to the Egyptian section.  A few sarcaphgous among other things.  Sculptures, gotta see those, I love the sculptures.  I come accross one that is a reminder of a wonderful period in my life and spend 10 minutes just looking at the real thing.  This may not sound like much, but I only wanted to spend 2hrs in the Louve.  I manage to tear myself away.  When one is in the Louve, you cannot leave without seeing the Mona Lisa.  I race in that direction.  I plan on walking by.  I spend 15mins.  This is an eterenty.  I must go.  She will not release my gaze, I feel like I am watching the washing machine again.  She watchs me, I watch her.  There is a reason this is one of the most famous paintings in the world.  It is beautiful.  Mezmerizing.  I must go.  I leave.  Out of the Louve at 3pm. 
Up the Champs D'Elysse.  Edouard, I know that I am spelling poorly, but give me some slack.  I pass the Obilesque, then up to the Arc.  Wait.  Stop.  Hungry.  Lunch.  Ham and Greyuere.  Gotta love that, not cheese, not chedder, GREYUERE.  Yummy.  Inhail lunch, watch 15mins of the Tour.  Arc.  Up 250 stairs.  Walk around the top.  Great view.  Down.  Oh, did I mention that my knee still hurts from that biking accident in Nepal?  Oh, and sure it feeling good today.  Briefly pay my respects at the Tomb of the Unknown Solider.  And off to the Eiffel.  Walk there.  Paris is a wonderful city to walk in.  The subway is great, but you miss so much being underground.  Arrive at the Eiffel.  Walk or elevator?  The line is shorter to walk up.  I walk.  I know not how far it is up.  First level, not bad.  Second, wow.  Walk all the way around.  Down.  I am tired.  Thiristy.  Water is being sold for 1euro for a half liter.  HAH.  I find a grocery store.  1.5l for .67euro.  Oh, and a bar of chocolate for 1.35.  The Notre Dame.  But first Saint Chapelle.  I get there at 6:45, and it closes at 5.  Oh well.  Rush over to Notre Dame.   Get there at 7.  It closes at 7.  Closed.  I am tired.  My feet hurt.  My knee is saying hello.  A lot.  Subway back to the Bastille, our meeting point for the evening.  I get there at 7:45.  We meet at 8.  I order a lemonade.  I get 7up.  With a lemon in it.  FOR 7 BLOODY EUROS.  I am nearly outraged.  I drink it.  Meet up with Claire, Nico and Co.  We find a great Corsican restaurant.  Wonderful meal.  At midnight we leave.  Back to the Eiffel tower.  What a sight all lit up.  Around 1 we head back to the house.  The plan is to get up around 9 and go for a swim.  We d   r    a        g ourselves out of bed at around 11:30.  Eat another great breakfast and then off to the park for a little picnic.  Relaxing in the park, Mary and I beat Nico and Claire at a game that is a little like Bocci Ball.  Nico has played this game since he was 5.  I have never play, neither has Mary.  Around 4 we head off.  Somewhere past Reims, I see the sky, the clouds and the sun in this wonderful combination that leaves me asking myself questions about the beauty of sky, clouds and sun at home.....................

22 July 2004

Oye.  So let's examine the shots on Joe's feet since they became internationally popular in Turkey.  My don't A) smell.  I have been wearing sandals for almost five months straight.  Without the nastiness of socks and shoes, the air is free to flow around my feet NO MATTER HOW MUCH THEY SWEAT.  No stinky.  B) Blisters.  I appear to be nearly impervious to them. The one day that I walked 12k in them (7.5miles), I got small spots on the top where the sandals wore away a bit of skin.  And my opinion is that they look really nice.  My feet that is, so yes, they could be called sexy.  Hahaha Voekler, take the back seat.  And you won't be winning next year either.  That honour will belong to Ivan Basso.  Or maybe Lance.
Update.  Currently I am in Strausbourg on the French/German border.  Europe continues to impress with the beautiful cities, and Strausbourg is no exception.  Stunning architecture, beautiful churches, quaint waterways and idilic cafes where you can do nothing for hours but drink an espresso.  I have yet to incounter the "rude" Frenchmen yet.  Although this funny looking guy who met me at the trainstation called me various rude things, then hugged me, and gave me the keys to his apartment.  I instantly knew he was a friend.  So Nico is great.  Tomorrow we head to gay Paris, I am looking forward to that.  He is taking his niece to EuroDisney (i bow my head in shame for that export), I will likely head to the Louve on Saturday and on Sunday, well, it will be the 24th, and apparently this little cycling race finishes there on that day.  So I will brave the crowds, try and get pictures of sexy men with shaved legs and bad tan lines. 

20 July 2004

This is for Aunt Vicki and LMK, I am currently in Tilburg which is in Southern Netherlands.  You might know it as "Holland", but that would be incorrect.  Holland is actually a "state"of the Netherleands, and NOT all of the coutry.  It's like saying America and meaning the States, but overly sensative people from Canada think that it means ALL of North America.  I have been staying with my friend Nathalie from Nepal and her Dad.  I am attempting to intergrate into the local culture, my Dutch name is Hans De Versee.  I am speaking Dutch with the fluency of someone who has been learning for three days.  I know how to say "Hello"(hallo), "Yes"(ye), No (Nay), sex in the kitchen (nurker en da kurker), Please (aush da bleef), Thank you (aush da bleef), spare ribs (spare ribs), and Thank you (dank u vell).  I am still learning the intracicys of the funky sounds they make when they talk.  Sometimes it sounds like they are chocking on a duck.  It's really funny to listen to.  Today Nat and I went to the Eftiling.  I heard about this place the entire time that I was in Nepal, so I was really excited to go.  It's a bit like Disneyland, but more fun.  We rode every ride, it was raining, so the lines were short.  :D  Yesterday was "Pink Monday" in Tilberg.  Every year they have a fair, for lack of a better term, I will county fair, but's it's just rides and games.  No farm animals.  Pretty fun, BUT "Pink Monday" is a bit like the day for all the (thanks to Margert Cho) "Gay" to come out.  And, WOW, this in the Netherlands, so they sure do.  300,000 people.  I think that it might rival the Gay Pride Parade in the city.  A classic "sit in the cafe and drink a coffee for three hours day".  Just watching the people pass, and the outfits, or lack thereof.  Good stuff. 
Tomorrow I am off to Strausborg to see Nico, apparently not meeting up with Alex.  I THINK that we are headed to Paris, which will be cool, I might catch the finish of the Tour De France.  That would be heaps of fun.  And that I believe brings us up to date.

17 July 2004

Welcome to Amsterdam, City of, well, I'm sure that you already know.  But those are not the reasons that I am here.  Actually I was hoping to see some of the Dutch volunteers, but they are busy, so I am having to entertain myself.  Not so hard to do here.  Lots of great museums, I have already seen the Van Gogh (special exhibit by Manat, not Monet, sea scapes great stuff), another museum whos name I can't pronounce, walked about seeing the parks, later I plan on going on a canal tour.  This bugs me though, in a city of 700,000, there are 600,000 bikes and I can't find a place to watch Le Tour.  I will redouble my efforts.  I came here on Thursday night from Munich, there were two kids from Miluwakee in my car.  It seemed that their goal was to get plastered before the train ride and during it.  What fun that was.  *rolls eyes and shakes head*.  I felt sorry for the German business man in the car.  We made a bit of small talk, and I went to sleep.  Got my wake up call at 7am much to the chagrin of the two kids, ate breakfast and watched the German, then Dutch coutry side roll by.  Having never been to Venice, I think that Amsterdam is alot like it.  Right on the water, lots of canals, except that the Dutch don't seem to have problems with flooding, beautiful archtecture and wonderful people.  Right, sorry, then there are those "other things" you can do in Amsterdam.

14 July 2004

Strange experience yesterday. We'll get to that in a minute. I am in Munich currently hanging with the brother. Great to see him, he showed me around town for the past day and a half and is now in class. Munich is a great city. VERY clean. GREAT public transportantion system. You buy one ticket that costs 4.50euro and you can ride the bus, tram, subway all for one low, low price. OH, and it's all on the honour system (???). Crazy, that would never work in the states. Monday we met up, I told him that I was opposite the main railway station in town. Well, I was opposite where I got off the train. The main rail station is about 300m around. And the main entrance is 200m from where I was staying. Whoops. It took him a while, thanks to my poor directions, but he found me. We went to his place, saw a few sights, had a beer. Ate some food. Then yesterday we did something that I haven't done in five months. Actual laundry. Now mind you I have been washing my clothes, but by hand. This was an actual laundry machine. Little did I realize the effect that it would have on me. We load the clothes. Put in the soap. All very normal, very simple things. Close the door, it was a front loader. The water starts coming in. I open my book to read. Get through about 2 paragraphs. Look up at the laundry, and for some reason am inexplicably intralled in the washing of my clothes. I stare. The clothes go around. Those are getting clean? I think. I stare. They continue to move in a circular pattern. It dawns on me that Alex must realize that I have an unnatural obsession with the machine. I care not the least. I stare. The washing is complete. The rinsing begins. Water, spin, rinse. Three times. Wow. I am throughly amazed. The dry cycle begins. The clothes now spin quickly. I am stupafied. (hahaha!!! get it, stupa. fine. don't laugh). Faster, faster. I realize that this is entertaining me. I also realize how insanely dumb it is, I try to tear my eyes away. I get up, I walk outside, but cannot resist the temtations that the machine offers. The swirling colours win. It slows. Rocks a few times this way, a few that. Stops. A loud buzz. The show is over, the trance broken.

11 July 2004

Another bloody airport. More damn customs. More traveling more carrying all my crap with me (why did I bring things that I would only use for three days in Nepal? And not just one or two things. Like 5kgs worth of crap). The thought that crossed my mind was not a new one, "Do I really want to goto Morocco?". And the answer came back the "Not really." So here I am about to check in for my flight. I look down. Oh, wow, I am actually wearing shoes. My feet hurt. I am tired (perhaps staying up all night was not the best plan, or only getting 6hrs. the night before also not the best idea). My body slowly decided before my mind did. I get out of line. I walk to the information stand. "Excuse me, where can I get a train to Munich?" Central railway. "Thank you." And so here I sit. In Munich. I am hoping to get in touch with Alex but I don`t know where he is or how to get in contact with him. He might not even be in Munich. Doesn`t matter, I got sleep, lots of sleep. 8pm to 9am. Then I decided to go through EVERYTHING that I am hauling all over with me. I unpack all the compression stuff sacks. Every little pocket in both my backpacks. The clothing in the stuff sacks was funny. It was as though I had washed, then dried a piece of paper. A little crinkley. I unpacked my sleeping bag and thermorest. The sleeping has been stuffed for over a month. The termorest still had the lines in where I had folded it once it was inflated. It dawned on me that for the past month I had been wearing the same four t-shirts. Wearing the same pants had been going on since I was in Nepal. My jeans, haven´t touched them since I left Ca. I think I lost a roll of film, which is sad because it has my pictures from Saklakent gorge on it. Damn it. Only one roll in five months isn´t to bad. I am glad that´s the only thing I lost. Yesterday I almost lost my sanity.

09 July 2004

It's Friday and what a week it has been. I am staying with Cadgas, friend from Piedmont, at his dad's place. It's been great to get the local tour. Sultanhamet area, tourist area, is nice, but the places that Cadgas has taken me to or sent me off to have been fantastic. Yesterday I caught a ferry to the Princess Islands where they don't have cars. To get around you take horse carrages. I took a short tour of the island for 45mins. It was great fun riding in the back of a horse drawn carrage. Then last night we went on a Bosphorous Cruise. This is the body of water seperating the two parts of Istanbul. This was a last minute thing, we started our little tour at 11pm. OH, did I mention that this trip was on his dad's boat? What fun!!! I get to see all the good stuff and not have to go to a carpet shop. (this happens everywhere, I have more fun changing my cover story just to see if they buy it, and i am not forced into looking at carpets for 45mins.). Got to see the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sofia from the sea, a few palaces, a fireworks show (Cadgas kept trying to take credit for arranging it for me), and just be on the sea till about 1:30am. A bit tired we went home. Today was up at 8:30, a wander about the Taksim area, tonight we are going to Cadgas's friend's birthday party at a swank club. So I had to iron my slacks and shirt. No sandals tonight.
A few days back I got to see the Olympic Torch pass through Istanbul. I wasn't sure what was going on, there were lots of Coke trucks and Mavi Jeans cars, and bam, there's this guy running down the street with the torch. I watched and it dawned on my just how commerical the Olympics is. Sad.

07 July 2004

So, I was thinking today after being asked if I was Turkish for the 50th time since I came here, about all the places have thought that I am from. Only one of them really threw me off, but the rest are fairly close. I have been asked if I was Greek, Turkish, Spanish, Portguese, Italian, and Iranian. That last one threw me a bit. I guess I'm a mediteranian looking guy. Did I also mention that I feel like an international bank? Currently in my wallet I have Nepali rupees, Euros, UAE Dirhams, Thai Baht, and Turkish Lira. No one will change the bloody Dirhams for me.
Another thing that I have noticed is that some of the Turkish men make quite a habit of picking up on women who are traveling alone or in small groups. I feel bad for them, but I watch it happen several times a day. I will admit that I laugh. The girls are usually asked what hotel they are staying in and generally respond with "I don't know". That would bug the hell out of me. Of course perhaps I'm just jealous that none of the Turkish women pick up the foreign men.
I have also developed a cover story. When people start talking to me, I am from Nepal, not the states. This works well, no one seems to know much about Nepal. IF I were from the states I am instantly labeled a sucker and seems as though I can be taken for anything. (rolls eyes). I have also, apparently, been to Turkey three times according to my alter ego. I have been approached by people offering to take to places to buy me a drink or see their family home. Usually this occurs when they have more than one person. Politely decline. No no, I've been to Turkey before. Seen EVERYTHING. Sorry, my Turkish friend is meeting me here in an hour (now this is actually true, I do have a Turkish friend). On the other hand, some people are really very nice. A guy made me a bracelet on the street yesterday, after I told him that I didn't want one, he told me for me no charge. We had had an interesting conversation about money and fame, and I guess what I told him was worth more than the price of the bracelet.

05 July 2004

WAAHOOO!!!! Five days left in Turkey and I get an email today from my Turkish friend!!! Tonight I am supposed to goto Troy, but I think that I will head to Istanbul to see him. I should probably call first. Yea, that would help. It turns out that he is a dentist, he always talked about doing this even when he was 18. Awesome, awesome,awesome. I'm really looking foward to seeing him. RIght, I'm a bit excited right now. The story, of late: Came from Ayvalik to Selcuk yesterday to see Ephesus. Wow, that place is amazing. Just a bit of history there. And a few tourists. Damn them. Tonight is a night bus to Troy and maybe some time there, then Istanbul. It's bloody hot here, mid 90's. That's upper 30's for the euros on board here. Nasty. I sweat standing still. That's cause I'm hot, or so the ladies tell me. Okay, fine it's not the ladies, the old women working at the guest house told me that I looked warm and should have a swim. ALl right, all right, it was actually a really old man, and he smelled pretty bad. Or maybe that was me that stank. Anyway, I'll stop prattling on now.

02 July 2004

Two pretty cool things to mention. One from diving in Fethiye. We were down at about 15m, when we passed through the thermcline layer in the water. This is where the water changes salinity/temperature. The tempurature dropped about 8F. We followed this layer for a while. To hot, descend a meter, to cold, go up. At one point I was above the layer and put my hand through they layer. It was like you body being in a warm room and reaching into a freezer. You could feel a different texture in the water below the line because of the density of the water. Colder water is more dense, or at least it felt that way.
The other thing was last night here in Mytilini. Greece was playing in the quarter final of the Euro against the Cheque Republic. The first two halves were a back and forth battle, CR having their chances and Greece having theirs. Some VERY near misses. Regular time ended in a tie meaning at least one overtime period. For fourteen minutes and 45 seconds the game continued as it had in regulation. One miss here, then back down to the other end, a world class save by the keeper, then run to the other end. Greece gets a corner kick. The ball comes in at about 1.5 meters from the line and WHAM!! A perfect header into the goal. The bar erupted (along with every other one in the city), the CR gets the ball for a kick off. Barely enough time for anything. And they got nothing. The ref called the game after a few passes. And the streets erupted. It was like those photos you see of flares being shot off, thousands of people crowded into the streets, car horns honking, the obligitory guy doing burn outs (just for you jimmy!!!), motorcycles tearing through the streets (mostly w/o helmets, fools). But guess what was missing that you see in the states? The burned out cars, people using it as an excuse to riot, no beating, no line of cops with tear gas. A plesant public celebration.