Lickety Split

From: Split, Croatia

I just crossed the finish line! I got into Croatia this morning and arrived in Split shortly after. I've walked around the old town a little bit and taken a couple of snaps. Here, the incredible Palace of Emperor Diocletian:

Over two months ago, I started my trip in Almaty and made my way to Croatia. It's a cool feeling: I've traveled the Silk Road using only overland transportation. I recently found that Marco Polo's house is close to here, on Korcula Island, which I thought was fitting.

I'm glad that I was blessed with the time to make this trip happen -- overall, it really was an amazing experience. It think it was about the right length of time as well: any shorter would have been painfully rushed, any longer and my energy and cash might have worn out somewhere along the way.

While I hoped the trip would be fun, I had expected a healthy dose of bad moments -- days of loneliness, stomach sickness, police encounters. Luckily, there were only a few:
- Waiting for the Caspian ferry while very sick in Turkmenistan
- Getting stuck in the Anzob tunnel (a.k.a. Tunnel of Death), Tajikistan. Side note: I have it from a reliable source that a taxi driver actually died from suffocation the night I got stuck -- eerie, huh?
- Not getting to go to the Pamirs because of a horrendous misprint in my guidebook

And of course, there were plenty of highlights. It was a tough call, but here are my top ten:

10. Drinking beers on mosques / making videos in the empty old town, Khiva (Uzbekistan)
9. Making an organic dinner with a WW2 vet (Nagorno-Karabakh Republic)
8. Finding the beached ships of the old Aral Sea, Moynaq (Uzbekistan)
7. Seeing Turkmenbashi's Ashgabat (Turkmenistan)
6. Climbing Mount Olympus (Greece)
5. Checking out the Darvaza Gas Craters (Turkmenistan)
4. Learning (some) Russian
3. Making it through all five 'Stans on one go. In hindsight, this wasn't that easy to do.
2. Making good new friends: James, Michael and Thierry especially (Uzbekistan to Georgia)
1. Staying in a yurt with nomads (Kyrgyzstan)

An incredible summer so far, but I've saved the best for last. Tomorrow, I will be joined in Split by the beautiful Stephanie. We're going to spend two weeks traveling down the Dalmatian coast to Dubrovnik, visiting Cologne and checking out Iceland. Should be fun!

So, this will be my last post on this blog... at least for now. Hope you've enjoyed it!

Balkanhopping

From: Dubrovnik, Croatia

I'm getting close to the finish line now. This post is about my path from Greece to Croatia, with stops in the F.Y.R.O.M. (Macedonia), Albania and the brand-new nation of Montenegro.

I like the Balkans a lot. A while back, I spent two weeks in the former Yugoslavia -- Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia and Montenegro -- and was impressed by the cultural diversity and range of cool sights packed into such a small space. In many parts of the region, you can feel the aftermath of the violence from the Yugoslav civil war. I also had fun this time around. I wish I'd spent more time here, but I'm glad I got a least a peek at the 'other half' of the Balkans.

I've covered a lot of ground in a few days, so I'm going to stick to the highlights. In order of appearance:

1. Macedonia-Macedonia Border Crossing

If you've been following this blog very much, you know that I don't like border crossings. In Central Asia, they're horrible -- hour-long waits in the heat, arbitrary visa regulations, unfriendly officials on the take. So I'm a bit biased. The checkpoint at Gengeli between Greek Macedonia and the Republic of Macedonia, however, was the best border crossing ever!

Our train pulled into the checkpoint around dinner time and they told us we could actually leave the train (unheard of). Instead of surly officials, the guards were friendly and told us to get something to eat. There was loud, excellent salsa-esque Latin music playing, a grillmaster making these gigantic hot dogs filled with 'Greek meat' and French fries, and lots of people drinking beer at a bar. I even saw a group of kids my age who didn't look like they were on the train. Maybe they just came to the station for the atmosphere. It was so much fun that I was a bit sad to leave. Come to think of it, it was actually more fun than Skopje, my destination.

2. The Mullet King

I've seen some bad haircuts on this trip. The worst do's usually fall into one of two types: very short hair, except for a well-oiled tuft above the forehead (the 'hip' Russian), or; very short hair will a generous mullet in the back (the 'sophisticated' Russian). But I got a single snapshot of a Skopje mulleteer who definitely wins the prize for foulest hair. Enjoy:

3. Struga
I ran into some logistical problems trying to get from Skopje to Tirana and found myself stranded in Struga (Macedonia) for the better part of a day. Struga is a secondary resort town on the shores of Lake Ohrid near the Macedonian-Albanian border. It was unexpectedly fun. I sat around by the beach most of the afternoon, drinking beers and trying to avert my gaze from the many older men in smallish speedos. The beach:



There is a lot of Albanian influence in Struga. In the last decade, there was a full-blown civil war between the Albanian minority in the West of the country and the Macedonian majority. It was the usual deal: minority wants to separate and create their own state; majority wants to retain territorial integrity. It was resolved in 2002 with the UN-backed Ohrid Agreement, which guaranteed stronger minority rights for the 20% or so of the population that's ethnically Albanian. Like in Canada, there are now two official languages (even street vendors have to display in both languages). Here, an example:



Back to Struga. While I was there, I saw an interesting ethnic dance performance by local ethnic Albanians. It sounded somewhere between Bosnian and Turkish, and it was really cool.

4. Shkodra
When I got to Albania, I skipped over Tirana, the capital, and went straight to Shkodra in the north. Culturally, it's an interesting city since it has a lot of Catholic Albanians; the people are also renowned for their friendliness. I trekked across town to the imposing Rozafa fortress, a giant, largely-intact castle with fantastic views of the surrounding area. A shot of the valley from the ramparts:

5. Ulcinj
My last stop before Croatia was Ulcinj, a small, picturesque Adriatic beach town in Montenegro near the Albanian border. I ran into two cool guys from Austria and Germany and we ended up hanging out for the rest of the day. Montenegro is not a cheap place to bed down for the night. After some oh-so-precise mental calculations, we realized that we could actually save money by buying beers and food and spending the night on the beach, rather than going to find a hotel. When we first got there, the beach was jam-packed with people, but they trickled away towards dusk. In true Balkan fashion, people took to the streets at night, hanging out at the bars, restaurants and nightclubs along the beach. We watched it all happen and then went to catch our bus at 3:30 am. The beach at night, with the cliffs in the background:



P.S. I saw some funny Ingrish in Skopje. Among the instructions for guests at my hostel:
- "It's ok! Water from the tub is drinkable."
- "Please be quiet after 10 pm (bed neighbors)."

Central Asia: Post-Mortem

From: Shkodra, Albania

Since I left Turkmenistan, I've found myself reflecting from time to time on Central Asia. I decided to write a sort of overall analysis on the region like I did for the Caucasus.

My friend James (whom I traveled with in Uzbekistan) is an editor of a very professional and high-quality blog covering Central Asia. He asked me to write an article with my impressions of the region, as well as some comparisons with other regions I've visited -- West Africa and Latin America in particular. Here's the link to my article (you might have to paste the text in two blocks):
http://www.neweurasia.net/2008/08/08/central-asia-a-veteran-travelers-perspective/

If you're generally interested in Central Asia, the blog James works for -- http://www.neweurasia.net/ -- is one of the best sources of information out there.

Thesstivities

From: Struga, F.Y.R.O.M.

After I got back from Mount Olympus, I spent a couple of days hanging out in Thessaloniki, Greece's second city. I had heard good things about it from my Greek friends, so figured I'd give it a shot.

I ended up couchsurfing with a Greek guy called Aris. He's a playground-equipment designer by day and a musician by night. Both he and his apartment were effortlessly cool in a way that I'm not, but I can still appreciate. Here, a corner of coolness:


Aris' apartment was a neat top-floor pad with a wrap-around balcony that offered great views of the neighborhood. I spent a couple of afternoons on the balcony reading, eating and sleeping. The view:

The town of Thessaloniki itself is also nice, but not in an overwhelming way. That was fine by me, since I'm just about hit my limit of churches, castles, mosques and firepits by this points in my trip. The town has some very nice parks and a promenade along the water.

A park near Aristotle square:

The waterfront with Thessaloniki's famous "White Tower:"


I did almost nothing during the days there. In the mornings, I went to the market and bought some fruit, bread and water and ate it at the apartment or in a park. I also had quite a few good Greek pastries.

Thessaloniki has some good food and drink. I had never eaten souvlaki before, mostly because I thought it consisted of steamed squash and eggplant. Turns out it's actually a delicious meat-bread-and-sauce thing that tastes incredible. We also went out a couple of night. Below, Aris, his girlfriend and me at a local bar:

Overall, I found Thessaloniki an interesting city. I'd like to come back here at some point.

Next up: Macedonia, Albania and maybe Montenegro

Olympics

From: Skopje, F.Y.R.O.M.

This post is about the three days I spent on and around Mount Olympus.

My first stop in Greece was Litohoro, a small town on the Aegean coast and the main base for climbing Mount Olympus. Olympus is Greece's highest mountain; it's probably best known as the home of the gods of ancient Greek mythology. I've always really wanted to climb it, so I figured I'd dedicate a couple of days to the cause.

I didn't do much when I got to Litohoro -- just stocked up on supplies for the climb (water, delicious green olives and some weird cheese crackers) and then went to my campground for the evening. I had planned on staying at this little place with affordable bungalows, so I could spend a restful night in a good bed before starting the climb.

I had forgotten it was high season for tourism in Greece, so all the bungalows had been rented out weeks before. The campground took pity on me and said I could just sleep on the ground for half price, as long as I didn't bother anyone. So much for my good night's sleep! I did, at least, get to swim for a bit in the Aegean. It was warm, beautiful and there were lots of young people hanging out and working on their tans.

The beach:


The next morning, I set off early for Olympus. There are a couple of routes to the top, most of which involve staying at one of the mountain's seven refuges (basically small lodges where you can sleep, warm up, and eat. I decided to hike to the Giosos Apostolidis refuge, the highest lodge (at 2,720 metres), with the best views over the ridge by the summit. I planned on doing a 7-hour hike from the lowest refuge to the highest one on the first day, then climbing to the summit and back down to the Litohoro on the second.

The first part of the climb was great. The forest and path changed several times on the way up as the altitude changed -- first it was lush woods with lots of deciduous trees, then a cooler, rockier pine forest, and then small trees and shrubs as I got closer to the ridge. I stopped a bunch of times and ate little snacks of crackers, olives, salami and bread.

A shot of the lusher forest:

Some evil-looking forest higher up:


I did have a scary moment, though, when I had no water left. I'm actually surprised that I ran out, since I packed almost 4 litres of water for the first day of the climb -- should have been enough. I also looked at a trail map before I started the climb, and it indicated pretty clearly that there was a water fountain halfway up the mountain, near something called the Anathema. I came across a sign for the Anathema after three hours, but there was no water anywhere to be found -- not good. After about five hours, I was thirsty and completely out of water, so I decided to sit down under a bush and let the weather to cool off. After a little while, I saw a Greek couple coming down from the summit. I explained the situation to them, and they gave me half a liter of water, enough to finish the climb and keep hydrated. I'm very grateful to them.

After I ran into the couple, the climb got a lot steeper, with a switchback trail climbing through a tree-less rockfield. After twenty minutes of that, I saw across a steel cable set into the rock. I hauled myself up and found myself on the Plateau of the Muses at the top of the Olympian ridge. The plateau is spectacular, a huge mile-long table next to the Throne of Zeus, with sheer cliffs all around and stunning views of the Aegean.

My refuge was on the far side of the plateau. I devoured my dinner in about fifteen minutes, drank a heavenly Powerade (ambrosia?) and fell asleep. I woke up early the next morning and headed for Mytikas, the highest peak on Olympus at 2,919 metres. From the refuge I stayed at, the approach is just a short walk along the spectacular Plateau of the Muses, then around the back of the Throne of Zeus (the second highest peak). After that, it really gets fun: a 40-minute scramble along a fairly steep rockface (50-60 degrees vertical) to the summit. The rockface has a lot of holes and steps, as well as suggested-path markings, so it's possible to climb without ropes. But it's a workout.

Here, a shot of the rockface (to the left of the center you can see a climber working his way to the top):


Reaching the peak was incredible. The view from Mytikas is amazing, taking in the smaller Olympian peaks, the forested valley, the Plateau of the Muses, and the Aegean coast in the distance. I also took the mandatory holding-the-flag shot:

I stayed at the summit for twenty minutes, mostly because there were other travelers there who had good cheese, beer and chocolate, and they kept offering me some. When the chocolate was finished, I headed back down, doing the rockface in reverse. It actually took longer to go back down because the rocks are slippery and I was trying to be cautious.

After Mytikas, it was all, well, downhill. The main track down to the coast goes through different types of forest, passes by another refuge, and ends up in a place called Prionia. The 'town' of Prionia consists of a public toilet, a water mountain, two very nice cops and a taverna, which makes an incredible feta-stuffed eggplant.

Prionia is a long way from the coast, so I hitchhiked in the back of a truck to Litohoro beach then caught the train Thessaloniki.

Next up: fun in Thessaloniki

The Caucasus: Post-Mortem

From: Thessaloniki, Greece

[I thought I would write a bit about my overall experience in the Caucasus. I'm planning on doing the same thing for Central Asia, but haven't really gotten to it yet. Some more pics forthcoming too.]

I loved the South Caucasus. I spent a rushed two weeks there, but it really should have been at least four.

The area has tons to offer. The capitals of the regions are varied and interesting: wealthy, atmospheric Baku; lazy, charming Tbilisi; kinda-ugly-but-still-cosmopolitan Yerevan. Outside the big cities in the region, there are more than two dozen distinct cultures to explore: Persian-speaking Mountain Jews in Quba, Muslims in Georgian Tusheti, blood-feuding tribes in Svaneti and Rachi, and the Turkified Adjaran people. Regional food is incredible, varied, and pretty cheap for what you get (especially Georgian cuisine -- delish). The drinks (wine in particular) are plentiful and really good.

For me, I also liked finally being able to use my Russian. When I got to Azerbaijan, I realized that six weeks of learn-as-you-go Russian in Central Asia had finally paid off. I won't insult Russophones by claiming to actually speak their language, but I found myself able to get by pretty well. As a result, I had some interesting conversations with people about their lives: I heard both the Azeri and the Armenian perspectives on Karabakh, and learned about village life in Georgia. Definitely a step up from the inevitable "where are you from? ... how many children do you have?" chitchat I got in Central Asia.

The best thing about the region is being able to see weird and exotic sights without really having to trek too far. Making a meal in Karabakh was top of my list, followed by our trip to Georgian wine country, and then probably the cold mud volcanoes in Azerbaijan. The Caucasus is fun, but in a pretty accessible way.

But while I was charmed by the region, I did find myself thinking about its uncertain future. After all, it seems like every country there is gripped by vicious conflicts.

In Georgia, the overarching conflict is with Russia, onetime political master and, until recently, a close ally on the international stage. Since independence, however, Georgia has become increasingly Western-leaning, and recently announced their intention to move towards EU membership. The move met with fierce opposition from Russia, who has used their economic might to put the hurt on Georgia. Here, Georgia slapping Russia in the face:

The overarching Georgian-Russian conflict is exacerbated by several secessionist movements. Although it's a small state, there are no fewer than 3 independent regions within Georgia: Adjara (peacefully autonomous), Ossetia (actively and violently seeking separation) and Abkhazia (de facto independent since the brutal war in 1992-3.) Russia, happy to weaken Georgia and eager to extend its own political reach, has taken the side of the separatists in each of the conflicts.

The combination of the secession movements, backed by Russian military and political support, has been a lot for Georgia to handle. I couchsurfed a week ago with Alex, associate editor of Tbilisi's only English-lanugage daily -- he's very up-to-date about the conflicts in the region. He said that both the Abkhazi and the Ossetian situations seemed permanently on the brink of war; when we spoke, there had been several casualties in both locations every week for the past month.

Georgia isn't the only one with conflicts on several fronts; Armenia is sandwiched between two hostile Turkic neighbors. With no sea access and only two international borders (Georgia and Iran), it has a marginal geographic position. The national income is propped up by remittances and investment from the diasporan Armenian community. And the country has a big burden to bear: Armenia has also been the sole support (financially and militarily) for the Nagorno-Karabakh Republic since the end of the war.

The Karabakh conflict isn't just an Armenian problem, of course. On the Azeri side, the country has to deal with over a hundred thousand refugees forced out of Karabakh and Armenia proper during the conflict. When, and how, these displaced people will be dealt with is still unclear. And in the midst of the uncertainty and conflict, of course, the NKR itself doesn't even exist in the eyes of the international community.

The South Caucasus will be an interesting region to follow over the next decade. I hope that the political problems get resolved... but it's still an incredible (and largely safe) place to visit in the meantime.

Continental Divide

From: Thessaloniki, Greece

This post is about crossıng back to Europe through Turkey, with a stop in Istanbul. I had meant to spend a few days in Turkey -- see Capadoccia, check out Nemrut Dagi, catch some coast -- but I simply ran out of time on this trip. I ended up taking a bus all the way across Turkey and stopped in the capital for a day before heading to Greece. I was solo again for this part of the trip, since Thierry decided to stay in Georgia a little longer and take his time through Turkey. The days of the Dutch-Canadian duo had come to an end!

The bus ride to Istanbul was pretty uneventful but long -- a 28-hour haul from Tbilisi to Georgia. I say 'pretty uneventful' because I did have one near-mishap. The bus didn't have a toilet on board so the driver made stops every two hours or so, for around five minutes at a time. When we stopped at a small town in Adjara (Western Georgia), I asked if I could run and change currency for two minutes. Yes, he replied. Thanks, I said.

Well, you probably know where this is going. I went and changed my money, which took less than a minute. When I came out, the bus was 200 metres down the road and driving away (with all my bags and things in it). I took off sprinting after it, but it was raining and I kept slipping on the streets. I think most people in the town caught on pretty fast: red-headed guy dashing after big tour bus -- can't be good. Some thought it was funny, some yelled at me to get the hell off the road, some cheered me on. Fortunately, the bus hit a red light and I managed to catch up... at which point I gave the driver a pretty good earful. But at least I got my exercise for the day, right?

We made it to Istanbul in the end. I'd come here before and done a lot of the big sites before: the Hagia Sophia, Blue Mosque, Cemberlitas, Galata Tower and Topkapi Palace. I decided not to go in them this time, but they are truly spectactular buildings even from the outside.

Here, Hagia Sophia:


Istanbul's giant covered bazaar (5,000 stalls spread out over countless passageways):


I spent my time walking around newer parts of the city. Across the Golden Horn from the old city is Beyoglu, a trendier, hipper part of Istanbul with cool shops, bars and clubs. There were no highlights really, just an afternoon of casual exploring on foot. A view of the Italian-built Galata Tower in Beyoglu:



I had sat down by an ablutions-foundation when an old man came up and asked me what I was doing. "Just resting a bit," I said. "Well you didn't come all the way to Istanbul to rest, did you?" he pointed out, then drew me a little map with places I just *had* to check out in the city. I could tell he wasn't going to leave until I followed his directions, so I headed off towards the nearest palace. Later I came across a little tea-garden (actually just a bunch of plastic chairs sitting in a park facing the Bosphorus) with cheap chai. I hung around for a couple of hours, looking at the Asian side of the city and marveling at the lengthy 2-hour Turkish lunchbreaks that many of the local businesspeople were taking.

At the hostel, I also bumped into a French-Canadian couple from Montreal and we went out to dinner a couple of nights. They were very cool, and it also gave me a great chance to speak French and reminisce about our northern homeland.

Overall, Istanbul seemed a lot like I remembered it, with one big difference: women's dress. Two years ago, I remember thinking (liking?) that women tended to dress in a very modern way -- their clothes were revealing (like in other Mediterranean countries) rather than conservative (like in other Islamic countries). By and large, that's still the case, but there seemed to be a rise in conversative Islamic garb for the women. I estimated that maybe 15-20% of women in the old city were wearing headscarves, and I even saw a lot of women wearing full-length black burqas (totally absent the last time I came). I wonder if the shift in dress is a sort of religious affirmation in light of the Erdogan government, or maybe part of the broader religious surge affecting much of the Islamic world. I'll have to ask about that.

So that was Istanbul. My second evening there, I got on board the overnighter to Greece. Air-conditioned two-bed berths: that's entering Europe in style...

Next up: climbing Mount Olympos in Greece