london calling

Heathrow – December 22, 2010

Just ran into my friend Zach from SIT study abroad… he has been living at Heathrow for the past 6 days because his standby flight got canceled the first day and it’s been a disaster ever since. His dad flies for United so he had a free ticket to Europe… but no guarantee that he’d leave on schedule. Pinch me but I think we’ll be able to leave!

The Tube

Riding the Tube and reading the Evening Standard, the Daily Mail, the Metro – all the free papers you get in the underground system – definitely an excellent way to people-watch in London. Dad and I got “Oyster” cards – a week pass on the central London public transit – and, as anyone who knows my dad can imagine – we spent a lot of quality time calculating our cost per tube ride etc. I can’t pretend that I didn’t contribute!

Ferry Ride to Greenwich:

I was still not feeling that healthy on our last day in London so dad and I planned another calmer day – a ferry ride along the river Thames to Greenwich (British pronunciation =Grenitch). One of the crewmembers gave a lively and rather informative narration of the riverside from Westminster Pier down to the Tower Bridge (next to the Tower of London) where we had to change ferries. The tide was so high that many of the larger ferryboats couldn’t make it under any of the bridges further upriver of the Tower Bridge. I had no idea how extreme tide changes are in London – as much as 7 meters difference! Once in Greenwich we had a proper greasy fish’n’chips and then headed off to the Royal observatory. Greenwich was originally a totally separate city from London and though it’s now well within the official boundaries of London proper it very much retains it’s distinct and self-sufficient flavor. In addition to being an all around fun planetarium/astronomy museum the Royal Observatory defines the longitude of 0! So, like any self-respecting tourists we straddled the Eastern and Western hemispheres.

*A note: The Brits do make fun of us Americans for a whole variety of reasons – we seem to be easy, naïve, gregarious targets. One of these reasons pertains to the Tower Bridge. Back in the early 1900s a wealthy man from Arizona bought London Bridge to bring back to his hometown when London was putting in a new one…. but he thought he was getting the Iconic Tower Bridge with the two ancient-looking towers and brilliant blue cables. When the bridge got to Arizona he actually asked…. but where’s the top?

Visiting with Sandra in Brixton

During my gap-year after High School I met a British woman in her early thirties while crossing into Laos from Thailand. We were both traveling on our own and made the snap decision that the other wasn’t too insane so we’d stick together looking for a hotel room that night. As she later put it we had paid to be refugees: we took a slow, slow boats from Thailand to Luang Prabang along the Mekong river for two days. The views were gorgeous but there wasn’t anything to do so we got to be pretty good friends! We ended up traveling together (along with two Irish boys) for a week or so. About a month later we met up in Hoi An, Vietnam while she was moving south to Saigon and I north to Hanoi.

Well – the long story long is that she now works in London and I was able to see her! It was absolutely one of the highlights of London for me. The London underground was touch and go with all the ice and rescu trains heading after rescue trains etc… so it was really generous of my dad to accompany me to the end of the Victoria line and on a bus around Brixton to meet her. I loved seeing a totally random area of London that not even Rick Steves would think to send me to. There’s so much to London that it’s impossible to pretend you’re going to see it all… and I’d rather get some slices of random than all of the classic sites. We had dinner at a batty Brazilian restaurant – I can’t believe that’s the fourth country I’ve seen her in. I highly value maintaining those precious and unpredictable connections so thank you to my dad for helping me do so and thanks to Sandra for caring as well. Also reminds me of getting to know the family of Ann Ollivarius in London– my dad’s college friend. But first:

THE POGUES

While Dad was waiting for Sandra and I at the tube stop after our dinner (and his solo dive into a “real Londoner’s pub” he had about ten minutes to kill chatting up the cop outside the Tube station. This “bobby” (British) was there to keep scalpers at bay who were selling tickets to his beloved POGUES! By the time I got there I don’t think there was any question about the matter – Dad and I were going to see the Pogues. In his own works, “The cop worked me up in such a lather I just had to know what they were like!!” Oh Deane Minor. I was feeling pretty sick but I can’t say no to spontaneity so we started to haggle with the scalpers that Dad’s cop friend recommended. He wanted 160. Pounds. For two tickets, but still – No thank you. It was easy to play hard to get when we truly cared so little. So we watched the price trickle to 100, finally 85 and we were feeling pretty good…. until we realized we didn’t have that much between us. Luckily an ATM was located conveniently next to where the scalpers operate so one of the main man’s minions monitored our cash withdrawal….attempt. Turns out we just had the credit card, not the debit cards. Lame. So we had to say in all honesty that 45 pounds was the best we could do. At this point he had spent a solid ten minutes on us and I think he just liked us – so the guy grinned, shock our hands, said Merry Christmas and told us, “Congratulations – you scalped the scalpers!” I find this all particularly hilarious knowing my Dad… the man is honest to a fault if that’s possible. How he paid 45 pounds for a ace value total of 62 is a complete conundrum to both of us. By the way – the music was excellent! Ireland’s biggest rock band and for good reason. Dad was seriously bringing up the average age in the venue.

Saint Paul’s Cathedral

The Saint Paul’s audio guide tour that you get with entry into the cathedral is a prime example of excellent British museums. Excellent views of the city from the dome as well. Though he wasn’t an architect, Christopher Wren was commissioned to design the Cathedral as well as fifty-odd other churches - after the great London Fire of 1666 (spooky date…) Mr. Wren was simply accomplished at absolutely everything he undertook – math, astronomy – and soon – architecture! The genius move that struck me most in St. Paul’s was how he chose to craft the massive dome (which is a fixture of the London skyline, a symbol of the city). He knew that the dome would be more impressive from a distance if it were huge and elongated – not spherical. However, the same shape from the vantage point of worshippers inside the Cathedral would not be nearly as aesthetically pleasing. Moreover, Wren realized, the paintings on the underside of the dome would be hardly visible from such a distance. He therefore constructed a dome within a dome supported by a complicated scheme of rafters between the two. Wren happily was able to live to see the Cathedral built – in a “mere” 40-odd years. Compared to many European cathedrals that took over 200 years to construct that doesn’t seem too bad! Still, Dad and I found it interesting to compare these epic undertakings to the Mosques of equal complexity and size built in less than 10 years. Funding! The Sultan funded mosques whereas the church was in charge of Cathedral building.

The Tower of London: The building and entire complex is saturated in English history. British people also do a hell of a good museum so I really felt like I learned a lot wandering around through the different rooms and exhibits. Also - we started our Tower trip with a guided tour by one of the Yeoman Warders, the guards of the Tower of London and the official guards of Her Majesty the Queen. To be a Yeoman warder one must serve the British army for 22 years was distinguished awards (I forget the details) and you’ve got to be well versed in 900 years of history. The guards are still locked inside the Tower every night – along with their families! - at 10pm so there needs to be a doctor and chaplain on the grounds at all times. What an example of continued British tradition in a way that really would be unimaginable in the US.

Meeting Ann’s Family and learning about Dad’s past

Dad’s ***ex-girlfriend*** (from his wild college days, oh-la-la) has lived in London for the past 12 years practicing law. We stayed with her while we were in London – both in her city home and in a lovely home in the country. She keeps herself incredibly busy with work and she happened to have family in at the time as well but when we got to see her it was really wonderful. I hit it off with her kids – her two daughters are my age- extremely engaging and intelligent people. People always make the highlights of trips – for me at least.

Dad’s long hike in the country to the home of one of Britain’s most powerful barristers

“Goodbye, God Bless You, Love the Muffers”

On the day that I was feeling most sick Dad and I went to Westminster Abbey for the Evensong performance in attempt to find the lowest impact tourism possible. We did! Evensong is the evening worship that is largely sung – much less gospel, much more choir. It was still cold inside because massive cathedrals weren’t built with heating in mind and it’s been around freezing our whole stay in London. I was therefore wearing my panda earmuffs purchased in Croatia with Danika! On the way out I shook hands with several of the priests one of who said – and oh yes, I wrote “Goodbye, God Bless you, love the muffers!” All in the same measured, chipper voice. It was too good. He even tapped his ears jovially as an indication.

Walk around the City and Westminster and the South Bank!

Daddy took me out to a formal English teatime at The Wollesley. How proper and such. It included a three-tiered silver tray of cute little sandwiches with the crusts cut off, some beautiful tartlets/desserts, and scrumptious crumpets. Oh – and tea. Dad ordered beer (see previous post: ) People called me Madam and doted on me… how weird.

The Tate Modern – LOVED every minute of it. Some very weird stuff, but all stuff that I found thought provoking and/or beautiful.

Memory

Why do I do this? Why “blog”? Well. As much as it’s for my mother it’s for me as well. Someone having on the internet makes me feel like I “need to get a blog post up” in a way that wouldn’t be true if this were just a journal I was keeping on my laptop alone. I’ve really loved it. I don’t think it’s important to remember every little detail… but at the very same time I do find it indescribably important to cling to some details. Because what is life if it’s just done in broad brush strokes of “Went to the Aya Sophia…. saw Greenwich….etc?” I believe that facebook - and even digital cameras pre-social network mania – have changed the way we relate to our memories. It doesn’t really concern me that twenty years from now I will remember studying abroad and I might recall that time that I went on a hike through a vineyard near Lausanne (did I even blog about that? no clue) – maybe I’ll recall a hike along the waterfront when really we just sat there and drank wine and then wandered in the hills because they were gorgeous. What does it matter if I forget which Alpine mountain I went to? I know that the Swiss people are marvelous and terribly anal all at the same time. I’m glad for the impressions these countries and people have left on me. And I’m so glad that I decided to imprint a handful of these memories in my own words at ages 21-22. Italy will never be the same as it was as a 21 year-old about to turn 22 the next week. Now I can have these memories frozen in fall 2010 now and keep making new memories of what my study abroad months meant to me and come to mean to me for the rest of my life.

Random istanbul things

Shopping for Dad’s Beer

I had a good time making fun of my dad for his daily trip to the supermarket across the street to buy cheap Turkish beer. I alternated between bemoaning the fact that he was spending our entire travel budget on alcohol and demanding that I be allowed to be a Turkish apple tea whenever he went off for his beer. For whatever reason though on our last night in town I agreed to go buy his beer for him – I think he was just finishing his book and I took pity on him. The supermarket had sadly just closed (it was 10:05) so I came back to ask the front desk where else to head. He directed me down the street but I came back again, unsuccessful. He was highly agitated on my behalf, apparently not used to having his clients going shopping late at night and gave me painfully long directs in painfully unclear English. This time I found it… but when I asked for the beer the guy literally laughed in my face. There I was, a woman, asking for beer after 10pm – this seemed to be the funniest thing to happen to him in a long while. So I returned, tail between my legs, to the agitated hotel staff, several of whom literally got to their feet in expectation when I walked through the door (I wonder what they thought I was shopping for?).

Bosphorus Part One!

Definitely one of the coolest things we did in Istanbul. We rode a public ferry populated almost exclusively by other tourists also looking to see the Bosphorus almost all the way to the Black Sea! For history/mythology nerds like my dad and myself it was heavenly. Jason and the Argonauts sailed through here! The meeting point of the Bosphorus and the Black Sea is one of the most dangerous and unpredictable shipping thoroughfares in the world. As if to prove the point the clouds opened up as we approached our final port along the Bosphorus. We had the chance to get off in Asia – dad’s first time on the continent!!! – and climb up to some castle ruins with spectacular views. Wandering around the Asian countryside and towns drove home the arbitrary nature of “continents”.

Bosphorus 2 and Fener

The Highly Present Waiters

On one of our last night in Istanbul my Dad and I took a wander to a non-touristy neighborhood near our hotel where we hadn’t yet dined. We hoped to find a cheap place where mostly locals eat. Well - we did have the opportunity to dine at very close proximity to locals…but those locals happened to be the owner and waiter at our restaurant. Initially one of the Highly Present Waiters (HPWs) paced the marvelously gaudy restaurant with a stern look on his face. We figured the HPW would disperse after we ordered. We were mistaken. He situated himself at the table not three feet away and proceeded to brood, starring directly at us. At this point I became highly aware of the lack of music or, in fact, noise of any kind in the building. Dad and I sat starring at each other – stumbling through the first awkward silence of the trip. When he eventually we began to breath freely again but – don’t worry – he was shortly relieved by another HPW. This particular HPW alternated between starring out the window and starring me down. The whole HPW experience culminated with the owner of the restaurant dressing Dad and I in traditional Turkish headgear (think: Arabian nights) and taking pictures with us. It sounds like that could be a goofy frivolous activity but the HPW was dead serious about it. The HPWs were highly present till the end so I guess we got what we wished for: plenty of face time with local people.

Farewell, Istanbul!

Hello everyone! My dad and I are at the Istanbul airport - Ataturk International Airport - waiting for our flight to London. We got her in plenty of time.... I'm still smarting from having missed my flight to Spain.

Turkish Bath Time:

Dad and I decided to indulge in own of Istanbul's famous Turkish Bath experiences. To begin with we were each herded off to separate male and female bathing areas. When I entered the first room - a "holding tank" of sorts, I was immediately out of my element. To my pleasant surprise pretty much everyone was Turkish. My initial delight at diving into this "authentic Turkish experience" was closely followed by a string of pressing questions: where do I change?, how much do I change?, who is supposed to be scrubbing me down?, and how the hell do I get from holding tank to bath sans towel? A slightly disgruntled attendant soon answered the first of my questions shoving a towel and goody bag into my hands and frog marching me into a changing room, indicating a locker along the way. Okay, I thought, clothes off and towel on, here I go. The goody bag smelled pleasantly of herbs and spices but I figured I'd let my attendant help me utilize it properly.

As soon as I wandered back into the holding tank a beefy Turkish lady similarly clad in a towel grabbed my hand and led me into the steamy bath area. Everything in sight was made of various shades of marble. The ceilings of the circular "hamam" (bath) rooms are vaulting domes with lattice pattern windows letting in sunlight. Around the perimeter you find elaborate spigots and sitting areas cordoned off. All this surrounds a giant raised platform on which about a dozen women were lounging wearing just their underwear. OH. I didn't have MY underwear. I had little time to reflect. My strapping attendant sharply indicated my towel and the marble platform sternly and haltingly said something along the lines of "face - down". I comply... not quite feeling the Turkish relaxation wash over me as I moon my attendent and the rest of the bathing area. To her credit, she didn't miss a beat. She jabbed my should once, grabbed my "spice and herbs goody bag" and opened it to reveal a pair of standard issue black underwear. Ah......to be continued.

Istanbul photos, by popular demand :)

Istanbul (not Constantinople....or Byzantium)

Now to get you in the mood for this blog post about history...

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xj1d_istanbul-not-constantinople

Most likely most of you, like myself, know that Istanbul used to be called Constantinople. I had no idea, however, that Istanbul has been known by so many other names as well!

Byzantium: first known name of the city - founded by Greek colonists in 667 BC. Later the East Roman Empire was known as the "Byzantine" empire - although this was MUCH later: German historian Hieronymus Wolf dubbed it such 100 years after it had fallen.

Augusta Antonina: for a brief period in the 3rd Century AD by Roman conquerers

New Rome, Alma Roma, Roma Constantinopolitana: The Romans, obviously. before Constantine the Great took over in 330

Constantinople: The name that became widely known when Constantine the Great was powerful - Also Latin Constantinopolis and Greek Konstantinoupolis

Konstantiniyye: Name that bacome widely known in the Arab world during and after Constantine's time

Istanbul: since the 10th Century in a range of forms - comes from the Greek for "The City" or "To the City". Also Stimbol, Islambol, Stamboul

Other languages: Hebrew - Kushtandina, Icelandic - Miklagarour (the old Norse name that came into use after Viking contact with the Byzantines)

Love!

ISTANBUL with daddy...!

My DAD is here. In Istanbul. With me. We met up yesterday evening in the Istanbul airport and romped around the city today but is still incredibly surreal to be with him! I must say, he has been quite a trooper on the jet lag front. Come to think of it, his habit of pulling an all-nighter at the office before leaving town probably helped for once since his body was already out of wack.

Istanbul has captivated me for years – it is literally the number one place in the world that I have wanted to see since high school. Am I really here? In Asia? Europe? The Middle East? All of the above? NONE of the above? I’m trying my utmost to stop trying to categorize scenes or buildings or interactions with locals into European or Asian. There is no line – okay, fine, there’s the Bosporus – but culturally? This is the epitome of a blend. Having visited a wide range of Asian and European nations it’s all to tempting for me to wander around Istanbul proclaiming connections to this or that culture. For example, the little miniature paintings that look like ones I saw in India – then again, the Indian miniatures came with the rule of the Mughals, a Muslim empire. Then there are the cobblestone streets and castle/fortress looking walls – Europe! Europe! The shops crammed together selling everything imaginable rapid fire – Asian flashbacks… but then there’s the highly efficient tram system and the clean, clean streets. No offense Asia, but that brings me back to Europe.

Today we went to the Blue Mosque, the underground Basilica Cisterns, the Hagia Sophia, and wandered around the neighborhood a lot. The Blue Mosque is not, as you might assume, blue on the outside. The designs on the rook inside are, however replete with rich blues, yellows, greens…major wow. I LOVE the calligraphy designs that are all over mosques – it is forbidden in Islam to draw anything representative so the highest art form evolved into elaborate calligraphy. We’re planning to go back again on our last day in Istanbul to see how it feels different given our other experiences… I like bookends and my dad REALLY likes things like that J. I was fairly shocked at the behavior of some of the visitors: plenty of Western women did not cover their heads with scarves when they are very clearly asked to do so and loud chattering even when the imam started to announce the call to prayer.

Favorite quote from dad:

Salesman: “Where are you from?”

Dad: walking away “Uh…Everett.”

Salesman: “Oh yes I know it!”

The underground Basilica Cisterns were first built in the 6^th century but the Emperor Justinian (the most powerful Byzantine Emperor) to provide water to the overcrowded capitol city. (**Note – Istanbul used to be Constantinople and is no longer the capitol – that’s Ankara) The cistern complex is the size of two football fields and deep – supported by a seemingly endless expanse of pillars. When I had lunch with the friendly French lady who I met on the bus in Geneva she kept insisting that I go see the cisterns. Great tip!

The Hagia Sophia was first a great cathedral and then later converted into a Mosque. Today it is a museum – housing both Christian and Muslim religious symbols and architecture. It’s HUGE – not only could the entire Notre Damn Cathedral fit inside – but the Statue of Liberty could comfortable do jumping jacks in its central nave! Okay less talk more photos ~~~

Random thoughts… It occurred to me that many, many of the restaurant/souvenir shop workers in Europe are, in fact, Turkish… which made me wonder – why do the vendors here feel so different? Well. We’re in Turkey. And the storeowners are Turkish! Not immigrants. Both a really obvious and easy to overlook fact!

whoooops: I saw an impressive looking wall and archway near the Hagia Sophia so I wandered on over and tried to go in. Sadly the armored guards told me it was closed so I asked one of the military men what it was – “Topkapi Palace” he explained, failing to suppress a look that clearly added “You raging idiot”. Okay fine, one of the most important tourist stops/cultural sites – duly noted.

Okay. My daddy wants to be a guest blogger now so I’m going to turn it over to him…. and then we’ll go out to dinner!

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itsmy turn to donuts, actually GO NUTS

I have had a great time with alice so far… and no end in sight for the good times

rained all day—did not faze us! we love the rain. although, it got cold too – thanks, leslie, for the sweater idea: I wore it at layer number 3 of five today—with the fleece over it, followed by rain coat.

I don’t want to get boring here, talking about clothing, but I fear that alice has problaby already said all the good stuff. but did she mention her inquiry of the machine gun clad military man at a gate, where she inqured, “what’s that?

answer, Topkapi Palace….. look it up on google if you don’t’ know why that’s so funny!

enjoyed being played by a carpet salesman today…. no we did not get a carpet, but we got other stuff!!!

I had to stop once today to just drink in the fact that I was in instanbul… with alice. wow. what a treat.

bye for now, your guest blogger, deane

My friend Anusha is REALLY good at traditional Indian dancing so one night at the hotel in Pula she taught a bunch of us a routine that we performed for the others :)

Croatia....

View from our hostel in Split

Sunset in Split

The ancient Roman amphitheater in Pula - 6th largest in the world

With friends in the amphitheater

More amphitheater

Old city gate.... and elf from the Christmas parade! Very different concept of Santa's elves

The temple of Augustus in Pula, Croatia

With my friend on a day trip to Motovun - an adorable hill town in Istria (the province of Pula)

Playing around in some old windows with Danika in Split

In the harbor in Split looking at the Adriatic

In Plitz Viche National Park

Architecture in Split

Croatian Limbo

Hey all!

Still in Croatia. Continues to be a bit odd/hilarious since we're pretty much the only tourists in Croatia this time of year and the weather is all over the place. So here are some things on my mid these days:

International Relations/Politics:

The closer I get to coming home to more I realize that I've been in a very unique political environment here. All my peers are interested in international relations and quite well informed- plus I was not just in Europe but Geneve - land of international relations. Coming back to the states may be a little frustrating for me. With all the domestic economic turmoil going on in the US I'm anticipating the news/national political mindset to be very domestically focused. It'll be interesting to see how much I notice that and what sorts of political stories I find myself following.

Food

I miss cheese and chocolate! I also miss all the food my mom makes. There's not much more to say about this really... but Swiss cheeses are unbelievable.

Daddy!

So excited to meet my daddy in FIVE more days in the Istanbul airport! I've never had the chance to travel with just him - and for so long - it's going to be special. Also, the idea of Istanbul has enticed me for years. I love spots on this globe where things either don't make much sense or are a grand conflagration of more than one culture. Turkey in the Middle East? check. Turkey as a candidate to join the EU? check. Turkey in Asia too? check check check. I obviously know it will be completely different from India but I think it will be the closest thing to it that I've seen in a couple years. I'm ready for a little bit of madness and difference. And my daddy there with me! I'm sure traveling with a middle-aged man will make a difference in ways I haven't even realized yet.

My wonderful friends from SIT

I've met some spectacular people here. A few of the goodbyes will be rough. Mostly, of course, I'm glad we met and will thus forever be in each others' lives. Yesterday we went on a program-sponsored trip to two coastal villages and a lunch site... hanging out with the people who count was wonderful. There is honestly a contingent of people I will not miss at all, but why think about them? My friends Danika, Allison and I bought ridiculous ear muffs for 6 dollars.... best souvenir ever. It was cold! And my earmuffs are pandas. SOoooo that's a must-buy situation, clearly.

Christmas

All the other SIT students except one are preparing to go home in a couple of days... I, of course, I'm going to be traveling with my Papa for two weeks but I sort of keep forgetting that we're not on the same schedule. I am SO excited for home and Christmas. I want to accelerate these next few days until I meet my Dad because goodbyes are hard and everyone around me is in such a different place. I'm just way thrilled for Turkey - London - Christmas. And Minor ladies - we'll be dressing up and going to the Sound of Music in downtown Seattle, yes? We'd better!

Love to you all, happy holiday season. I can't wait to get to see you whenever that may be.

~Alice