Just a little history:
In 1915, just after World War 1, the Turkish systematically invaded their neighbouring country of Armenia in hopes to conquer and destroy it and turn it into a Muslim nation. Talk about Christians being persecuted for their beliefs, it is amazing to think of how the Armenian's stayed strong and faithful while being slaughtered by the thousands. And to choose Jesus still while looking death in the eye (that is if they were given a choice). It amazes me that I never heard of the Armenian Genocide before I met Jef because this is a nation that deserves respect for their faith and hope in the Lord. And their courage for still being a declared Christian nation surrounded by Muslim countries who are pressuring them constantly with threats. It was the first recorded modern genocide or holocaust with the total number of resulting Armenian deaths at 1-1.5 million. Not to mention the hundreds of thousands left to die, tortured and sold to slavery. Jef's family was involved in this genocide, his great grandfathers sister was one of the woman taken as a slave and raped until her right to bear children was taken away,and the rest of his family 5 brothers and sister and his parents and extended family apparently were forced to jump to their death. Turkey still does not even acknowledge that this event even happened, and it not taught in their textbooks so it will soon be forgotten by the new and upcoming generations. Before I visited the Armenian Genocide Museum, the word Genocide was just another word and the phrase "1-1.5 million killed" hadn't seeped in. It was just another issue or event that there was no face for so it elicited little emotion. These people and their remaining families deserve our prayer and respect not just on the basis of murder but also on the basis of faith, and the strength given to them by God.
Oh and although Jef states that we are not one of the countries mentioned at the monument, America was the cause for majority of Armenian orphans finding orphanages and support and was also the main country that raised support to help the Armenian's during this time. Within the museum we are recorded as a country that recognizes the term "genocide" and recognize that this was indeed what the Armenian's suffered.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
The Armenian Genocide Museum
Genocide memorial.
It was apparently erected only after the Armenian republic at the time of Russian control made a huge demand for recognition of the genocide. The Russian rule eventually gave in but to hide it from society the Russians built an amphitheatre four times the size directly in front of the only possible view point. I believe it was built at the very same time. The monument is twelve stone slabs that jet out from a platform with a space needle looking thing beside it. One is to pay respect to the 12 Armenian districts that were over taken and killed; the needle represents Armenian determination or hope for the nation to stay whole (something like that).
In the entrance are the declarations of all the nations and political leaders that have recognized the genocide publicly all carved into stone slabs encircling a cross.. By the by, America is not on that list. In the first hall is the breakdown of how many existing schools, people and churches we in each of the 12 districts, along with family portraits and town pictures. Erzram where my grandmother was from was one of the largest districts assimilated.
The entire rest of the museum I can’t convey. An artist named jean jansem painted around 12 abstract depictions of the slow death met by close to a million Armenian woman, though the very first you see is an interpretation of the slaughter brought on by death riding a pale horse. It softens the blow in contrast to the actual photographs. Though what I found out there about the photographs taken during the time completely blows my mind. This German cat named Wegner was working in the polish army as a nurse in route through turkey at the time of the mass murder. Wegner after viewing the slaughter started taking pictures against his superior’s orders. After Turkish demand he was forced to give up all his photo’s and was thrown in jail, but like a magician snuck some of the negatives in his belt and mailed them to Woodrow Wilson before his incarceration. Wilson then started to collect aid. After being released he returned to Germany again to find himself front and center for the Jewish holocaust. He was the only person to write a letter directly to Adolf Hitler giving him notice that his regime was unacceptable. As I recall he was also quite fervent in his public display of nazi rebellion. He was then sent to incarceration camp in Italy (I think) that he escaped from before the war was over.
Near the end was a diary of a missionary and the testimony of a travelling Arabian man and were absolutely awful in their detail but entirely necessary. I was glad to finally see a first person testimony of what actually happened to all these countless families, because despite all our pressure we just could never get our grandfather to dig up the memories. (There needs to be a word for glad that doesn’t mean happy)
The museum somewhat concluded our day except the cab ride home that consisted of sitting in traffic for 25 minutes to get about 6 blocks while watching a group of riled up locals partially assault a police officer.
It was apparently erected only after the Armenian republic at the time of Russian control made a huge demand for recognition of the genocide. The Russian rule eventually gave in but to hide it from society the Russians built an amphitheatre four times the size directly in front of the only possible view point. I believe it was built at the very same time. The monument is twelve stone slabs that jet out from a platform with a space needle looking thing beside it. One is to pay respect to the 12 Armenian districts that were over taken and killed; the needle represents Armenian determination or hope for the nation to stay whole (something like that).
In the entrance are the declarations of all the nations and political leaders that have recognized the genocide publicly all carved into stone slabs encircling a cross.. By the by, America is not on that list. In the first hall is the breakdown of how many existing schools, people and churches we in each of the 12 districts, along with family portraits and town pictures. Erzram where my grandmother was from was one of the largest districts assimilated.
The entire rest of the museum I can’t convey. An artist named jean jansem painted around 12 abstract depictions of the slow death met by close to a million Armenian woman, though the very first you see is an interpretation of the slaughter brought on by death riding a pale horse. It softens the blow in contrast to the actual photographs. Though what I found out there about the photographs taken during the time completely blows my mind. This German cat named Wegner was working in the polish army as a nurse in route through turkey at the time of the mass murder. Wegner after viewing the slaughter started taking pictures against his superior’s orders. After Turkish demand he was forced to give up all his photo’s and was thrown in jail, but like a magician snuck some of the negatives in his belt and mailed them to Woodrow Wilson before his incarceration. Wilson then started to collect aid. After being released he returned to Germany again to find himself front and center for the Jewish holocaust. He was the only person to write a letter directly to Adolf Hitler giving him notice that his regime was unacceptable. As I recall he was also quite fervent in his public display of nazi rebellion. He was then sent to incarceration camp in Italy (I think) that he escaped from before the war was over.
Near the end was a diary of a missionary and the testimony of a travelling Arabian man and were absolutely awful in their detail but entirely necessary. I was glad to finally see a first person testimony of what actually happened to all these countless families, because despite all our pressure we just could never get our grandfather to dig up the memories. (There needs to be a word for glad that doesn’t mean happy)
The museum somewhat concluded our day except the cab ride home that consisted of sitting in traffic for 25 minutes to get about 6 blocks while watching a group of riled up locals partially assault a police officer.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Before I continue, I want to apologize for any grammatical errors. Or anything that may have sounded confusing or scattered. Most of these posts are typed on Non-English key boards (whose keys are very sticky) and are written in the middle of the night in a last minute attempt to summarize our past week in order to get it posted for reading.
Day 3 Armenia:
We wake up the next day early, well earlier than before, and get ready to start our first tourist stop. The Monastery of Geghard was built back in like 1215 over a sacred spring and it was built into the mountainside and used to house the spear that had pierced Jesus's side, which was supposedly brought over by the Apostle Jude but is now held in a local museum. (I'm skeptical of the authenticity of that claim, especially since Armenian's like their folk tales) Since we were going on Sunday we were hoping to get the the Monastery on time to attend the church service, which we read up on and is very intricate and beautiful. Except for at the end they sacrafice an animal and boil it and feed it, that part is not so beautiful, but none the less we wanted to see it and take part. Since Armenia was the first declared Christian nation Jef and I had done some reading up on how their practices and beliefs may differ from America's. And it definitely differs and makes me think about and rethink about the way things are practised in western America and how boxed in many of us truly are.
So we call a taxi to head up that way and our taxi driver of course speaks to no English but is adorable and helpful all the same. Once we leave the city of Yerevan we get a taste of what Armenia and it's people are really about. There are rolling green hills, with Mount Ararat in the distance gorgeous as ever. There are random heard of sheep and cows everywhere, including in the roads. Well in Armenia their roads are barely even roads it's basically all broken up pavement with humongous pot holes. So we're swerving our way up into the hills I swear at a deadly speed, and no cars have seat belts, until we arrive at the Temple of Garni (an ancient Greek temple). So we have the same dialogue with the taxi driver over and over: Us "Ummm we want to go to Geghard, not Garni..NO Garni, NO Garni...Geghard" Taxi Driver, "YES Garni, you...blah blah blah (motions with his hands for us to get out and walk around)...Garni, YES" So we finally do what he says and buy tickets to the Temple of Garni and walk around it thinking that if we do so then he will be satisfied and take us where we need to go. The Temple of Garni truly was wonderful and was made to be perfect geometrically.
After walking around Garni we got back in the taxi and asked, "Geghard?" and he yells back "Geghard!" and so we all smile and were on our way. After driving by some flag dancers playing flutes and wearing masks we arrive at the Monastery of Geghard. It is placed right in the centre of all these mountains and rock faces next to a river. On the way up there are local villagers who had come and set up tables with their local goods. All the locals and old people of Armenia are incredibly adorable, all small and hunched and tan. There is to much about Geghard to really type but it is so intricately built with so much symbolism involved and it still houses clergy men and women over the summer. There are so many rooms just filled with carvings and the sacred fountain is still flowing inside where you can take drinks to heal yourself...we passed though (it looked kinda milky and was covered in children). Our taxi driver joined us on our excursion and basically became our tour guide. We all lit candles once inside for our prayers and then joined the service..which was GORGEOUS!
It is filled with old paintings and artifacts with carvings everywhere. All the clergy men were decked out in robes and the choir consisted of 5 women but sounded like four times that with how amazing the acoustics were in this room. People were coming in and out to say a prayer and none were dressed up so that was a good thing. Unfortunately the incense they were burning, which I guess burns bacteria, started to make my stomach hurt so we left after that and didn't stay for the sacrafice. We did buy some really huge and legit fruit roll ups from one of the local vendors though :)
We then headed back into town, thanked our cab driver and once again met up with David and one of our Armenian friends Shushan (Susan). We took the local subway (which we had no clue existed) got plenty more over exaggerated stares and laughs along the way, and went to some local sweet shops and cafes. Then climbed up to the top of this giant monument called The Cascade, which attaches the lower part of the city to the upper to watch the sunrise over the city and over the mountain of Ararat. We had dinner then said our goodbyes and Jef and I arrived back at our hostel to see our adorable little front desk man trying to hold his eyes open and laughing awkwardly at I don't know what. Then we slept basically.
Day 3 Armenia:
We wake up the next day early, well earlier than before, and get ready to start our first tourist stop. The Monastery of Geghard was built back in like 1215 over a sacred spring and it was built into the mountainside and used to house the spear that had pierced Jesus's side, which was supposedly brought over by the Apostle Jude but is now held in a local museum. (I'm skeptical of the authenticity of that claim, especially since Armenian's like their folk tales) Since we were going on Sunday we were hoping to get the the Monastery on time to attend the church service, which we read up on and is very intricate and beautiful. Except for at the end they sacrafice an animal and boil it and feed it, that part is not so beautiful, but none the less we wanted to see it and take part. Since Armenia was the first declared Christian nation Jef and I had done some reading up on how their practices and beliefs may differ from America's. And it definitely differs and makes me think about and rethink about the way things are practised in western America and how boxed in many of us truly are.
So we call a taxi to head up that way and our taxi driver of course speaks to no English but is adorable and helpful all the same. Once we leave the city of Yerevan we get a taste of what Armenia and it's people are really about. There are rolling green hills, with Mount Ararat in the distance gorgeous as ever. There are random heard of sheep and cows everywhere, including in the roads. Well in Armenia their roads are barely even roads it's basically all broken up pavement with humongous pot holes. So we're swerving our way up into the hills I swear at a deadly speed, and no cars have seat belts, until we arrive at the Temple of Garni (an ancient Greek temple). So we have the same dialogue with the taxi driver over and over: Us "Ummm we want to go to Geghard, not Garni..NO Garni, NO Garni...Geghard" Taxi Driver, "YES Garni, you...blah blah blah (motions with his hands for us to get out and walk around)...Garni, YES" So we finally do what he says and buy tickets to the Temple of Garni and walk around it thinking that if we do so then he will be satisfied and take us where we need to go. The Temple of Garni truly was wonderful and was made to be perfect geometrically.
After walking around Garni we got back in the taxi and asked, "Geghard?" and he yells back "Geghard!" and so we all smile and were on our way. After driving by some flag dancers playing flutes and wearing masks we arrive at the Monastery of Geghard. It is placed right in the centre of all these mountains and rock faces next to a river. On the way up there are local villagers who had come and set up tables with their local goods. All the locals and old people of Armenia are incredibly adorable, all small and hunched and tan. There is to much about Geghard to really type but it is so intricately built with so much symbolism involved and it still houses clergy men and women over the summer. There are so many rooms just filled with carvings and the sacred fountain is still flowing inside where you can take drinks to heal yourself...we passed though (it looked kinda milky and was covered in children). Our taxi driver joined us on our excursion and basically became our tour guide. We all lit candles once inside for our prayers and then joined the service..which was GORGEOUS!
It is filled with old paintings and artifacts with carvings everywhere. All the clergy men were decked out in robes and the choir consisted of 5 women but sounded like four times that with how amazing the acoustics were in this room. People were coming in and out to say a prayer and none were dressed up so that was a good thing. Unfortunately the incense they were burning, which I guess burns bacteria, started to make my stomach hurt so we left after that and didn't stay for the sacrafice. We did buy some really huge and legit fruit roll ups from one of the local vendors though :)
We then headed back into town, thanked our cab driver and once again met up with David and one of our Armenian friends Shushan (Susan). We took the local subway (which we had no clue existed) got plenty more over exaggerated stares and laughs along the way, and went to some local sweet shops and cafes. Then climbed up to the top of this giant monument called The Cascade, which attaches the lower part of the city to the upper to watch the sunrise over the city and over the mountain of Ararat. We had dinner then said our goodbyes and Jef and I arrived back at our hostel to see our adorable little front desk man trying to hold his eyes open and laughing awkwardly at I don't know what. Then we slept basically.
Day 2 Armenia
Well after having to fall asleep to the sound of gunshots right outside our window we once again get woken up by the hostel staff telling us we had to leave the premise so they can do their mandatory "cleaning fest". So we once again escape out into the blazing hot city dazed and confused but this time we feel a little more confident after our previous nights excursions. We go over to the "nice side of town" to some cafes in order to try the "wonderfully cheap and amazing coffee" that our over enthusiastic roommate couldn't stop talking about. Once we arrived bibles and journals in hand ready to spend a day relaxing we sat down in some of the comfy looking seats and ordered some of the cheapest things on the menu. Unfortunately every place in Armenia, and vehicle that drives by is playing obnoxiously loud, and bad I may as well add, American pop music. So Jef couldn't focus to read or write so we decide to leave and our bill is way over the price of what we ordered. It turns out that certain areas of cafes charge you a ridiculous amount of money just to sit there. So Jef's anger level is rising but I wanted a milkshake so we went to the neighbouring cafe just to get servers that seem to want to get hit by a car to not look us foreigners in the eye and or serve on us. It's weird that we don't stop getting stares from any random person on the street but when it comes to those that we want to notice us, servers, they would gladly look the other way at all costs. Anyways, I guess this story is not to interesting since I do eventually get my awful chocolate milkshake and I leave unsatisfied and Jef leaves pissed.
We go back to the hostel and meet up with our buddy David again, who is opening for a local show in town so we decide to go check that out. He was super nervous talking about how he couldn't remember his lyrics, and he is in a New York band back home, so I was getting a little nervous for him but Jef and I supported him all the same. We were at a local bar/club that was built in order to host shows since you could see the stage no matter what floor or area of the club you were in. It was pretty crowded and we made friends really quickly with a couple of local fellows and some others that were in the bands. Then David took the stage, just guitar in hand, and he was incredible! He absolutely blew Jef and I away. He sounded a lot like the lead singer of The Format or from one of mine and Jef's favorite bands Buster Blue. After his set a local Armenian band came up and we disliked them from the beginning. They were super showy and the music was not very good, none of it was unique or stood out and the lead singer kept stopping the rest of the band mid song to tell them that were playing wrong and then she would restart. After that band came the main band who we met before the show. They are from New York as well and the stand up base player went to Chico! They definitely stole the crowd and were probably one of the best bands I have ever heard. Very folksy, the lead singer\band name is Sima Cunningham and her little brother (the stand up bass player) is a scrawny little white guy with a Jew Fro and was just dripping with bluesy soul.
We stayed out pretty darn late that night, we went to couple local bars after the show with Sima and her band and David. We went to one bar where everyone sits on floor pillows and the walls are covered in tapestries and everyone gets up and dances in the middle. It was wonderful and packed full. We then walked back with a drunken David who talked of moving to California and living in our tree house (probably just false hopes).
That night was a good night...and we slept soundly absent from the sounds of gunshots.
We go back to the hostel and meet up with our buddy David again, who is opening for a local show in town so we decide to go check that out. He was super nervous talking about how he couldn't remember his lyrics, and he is in a New York band back home, so I was getting a little nervous for him but Jef and I supported him all the same. We were at a local bar/club that was built in order to host shows since you could see the stage no matter what floor or area of the club you were in. It was pretty crowded and we made friends really quickly with a couple of local fellows and some others that were in the bands. Then David took the stage, just guitar in hand, and he was incredible! He absolutely blew Jef and I away. He sounded a lot like the lead singer of The Format or from one of mine and Jef's favorite bands Buster Blue. After his set a local Armenian band came up and we disliked them from the beginning. They were super showy and the music was not very good, none of it was unique or stood out and the lead singer kept stopping the rest of the band mid song to tell them that were playing wrong and then she would restart. After that band came the main band who we met before the show. They are from New York as well and the stand up base player went to Chico! They definitely stole the crowd and were probably one of the best bands I have ever heard. Very folksy, the lead singer\band name is Sima Cunningham and her little brother (the stand up bass player) is a scrawny little white guy with a Jew Fro and was just dripping with bluesy soul.
We stayed out pretty darn late that night, we went to couple local bars after the show with Sima and her band and David. We went to one bar where everyone sits on floor pillows and the walls are covered in tapestries and everyone gets up and dances in the middle. It was wonderful and packed full. We then walked back with a drunken David who talked of moving to California and living in our tree house (probably just false hopes).
That night was a good night...and we slept soundly absent from the sounds of gunshots.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Forced outside to Disco Dance
Whilst walking around downtown yerevan, directly under the mid day sun, jet-lagged, confused, hungry, and not even able to use a bathroom because our hostel has locked us out we realize two things: 1st The warning we got that the ONLY thing armenians do is glare you down, is a full blown understatement. and 2nd this freak'n sucks.
About the awkward silence and stare. You know in movies when someone walks into a bar and you hear the record player screech and every single bar member stops in their tracks and stares daggers at the protagonist of the movie. Yeah, every second of every day is like that in this country. We are in a constant state of watching everyone stop, mid-sentence, mid-walk, mid-everything, to stop and turn around completely and stare until their unibrows start to smoulder. This is also often occompanied by pointing, talking shit, and laughing histerically. I think a pretty massive undertone of my family is starting to make sense.
After we pull the plug on there being any possible way for us to be outside and NOT feel like we're in the ending scene of "The birds" we call it quits and shut ourselves inside.
If you need clarification: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-CRkq5zjfI&feature=related
This is where we are introduced to Mr. David Bechle and a way too jolly Britan named Jonathon.
Jonathon is just so rabidly happy and excited about everything in armenia that we have to completely disregard anything he has to say. He's just to damned enthusiastic for us to suffer at this point.
David just got back from renting a car and touring basically the whole country and is a lot more toned down. He then tells us he will be playing a show in yerevan the next day and invited us to english pop night at one of the local clubs. This turned out to be helariously epic. We showed up with david's tiny and weird little armenian friend that danced his ass off with 30 other locals, to the sounds of david bowey and iggy pop. This kid's dance routine was indescribable. If you were to mix an out of water fish with a puppet being tugged on by a 5 year old you've basically got his dancing style. And it never stopped, the entire night. Combined with some of the most glamorous arm dancing from all the other 29 performers made it probably one of the most akwardly epic grown-up version of a school dances I've ever seen. Good times.
Our little trio leaves in search more retro disco action to find absolutely nothing but settle for amazing shwarmas and head home.
About the awkward silence and stare. You know in movies when someone walks into a bar and you hear the record player screech and every single bar member stops in their tracks and stares daggers at the protagonist of the movie. Yeah, every second of every day is like that in this country. We are in a constant state of watching everyone stop, mid-sentence, mid-walk, mid-everything, to stop and turn around completely and stare until their unibrows start to smoulder. This is also often occompanied by pointing, talking shit, and laughing histerically. I think a pretty massive undertone of my family is starting to make sense.
After we pull the plug on there being any possible way for us to be outside and NOT feel like we're in the ending scene of "The birds" we call it quits and shut ourselves inside.
If you need clarification: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-CRkq5zjfI&feature=related
This is where we are introduced to Mr. David Bechle and a way too jolly Britan named Jonathon.
Jonathon is just so rabidly happy and excited about everything in armenia that we have to completely disregard anything he has to say. He's just to damned enthusiastic for us to suffer at this point.
David just got back from renting a car and touring basically the whole country and is a lot more toned down. He then tells us he will be playing a show in yerevan the next day and invited us to english pop night at one of the local clubs. This turned out to be helariously epic. We showed up with david's tiny and weird little armenian friend that danced his ass off with 30 other locals, to the sounds of david bowey and iggy pop. This kid's dance routine was indescribable. If you were to mix an out of water fish with a puppet being tugged on by a 5 year old you've basically got his dancing style. And it never stopped, the entire night. Combined with some of the most glamorous arm dancing from all the other 29 performers made it probably one of the most akwardly epic grown-up version of a school dances I've ever seen. Good times.
Our little trio leaves in search more retro disco action to find absolutely nothing but settle for amazing shwarmas and head home.
A polish layover and Day one armenia
In poland, they love their booze, chocolate, and the pope. Although I was kind of disappointed with it all. I was expecting to get in and find like 4 pound polish dogs and the locals walking around with dog shit in their hand saying "Look at what I almost stepped in!". Absolutely none of these unique polish fantasies were true at all... Sad day. My hot dog was pretty good, but easily 3 lbs and about 4,000 calories under what it should be. The poles are awesomely devoted though, the airport came fully loaded with a catholic chapel in the east side of our terminal, we were impressed.
We end up getting more or less locked in our gate, which could have doubled as a meat locker, I get a nap and around 10 we load our flight.
Arrival
We get in around 5, start getting through all the passport checkpoints and realize that armenia is the only country that wants all the documentation possible. "Your boarding pass please? baggage ticket? do you have the tag on your pillow? would you please submit the receipt for the toblerone you bought in poland?" We have absolutely nothing and they just let us by regardless which makes you wonder if this whole checkpoint is just a place to put overstaffed employees.
We get outside the terminal, amazingly enough, to find a very tired looking cabby holding a sign. I still can't believe they got our last minute email that we're showing up around this time and just some-what thinking about staying at their hostel. I'm pretty sure the walk from the terminal to the cab took a year off of the cabby's life. He was tripping over everything and is working past a SERIOUS wheeze, I honestly feel like I should have given him a piggy back over the 30 yards to car. I feel kinda bad.
We drive through southeastern yerevan to our hostel and once again a look at the architecture makes you expect to then look at the sidewalk and find a legion of zombies out marauding for flesh. BUT i finally see mount ararat on the drive; the birthplace of the most extravagant christian folklore in the world.
When we got to our hostel we basically slept until 1pm ( which is when they kick us out to clean"... but really I'm not at all sure what they actually do with the time, it looks exactly the same when we return.
We end up getting more or less locked in our gate, which could have doubled as a meat locker, I get a nap and around 10 we load our flight.
Arrival
We get in around 5, start getting through all the passport checkpoints and realize that armenia is the only country that wants all the documentation possible. "Your boarding pass please? baggage ticket? do you have the tag on your pillow? would you please submit the receipt for the toblerone you bought in poland?" We have absolutely nothing and they just let us by regardless which makes you wonder if this whole checkpoint is just a place to put overstaffed employees.
We get outside the terminal, amazingly enough, to find a very tired looking cabby holding a sign. I still can't believe they got our last minute email that we're showing up around this time and just some-what thinking about staying at their hostel. I'm pretty sure the walk from the terminal to the cab took a year off of the cabby's life. He was tripping over everything and is working past a SERIOUS wheeze, I honestly feel like I should have given him a piggy back over the 30 yards to car. I feel kinda bad.
We drive through southeastern yerevan to our hostel and once again a look at the architecture makes you expect to then look at the sidewalk and find a legion of zombies out marauding for flesh. BUT i finally see mount ararat on the drive; the birthplace of the most extravagant christian folklore in the world.
When we got to our hostel we basically slept until 1pm ( which is when they kick us out to clean"... but really I'm not at all sure what they actually do with the time, it looks exactly the same when we return.
Bit piece about greece's efficiency
So I'm totally amazed at this niche market that Greece has stumbled upon. It's a full rotation of efficiency marketing. So you get into Greece and buy mineral water, because it is literally the only type of liquid in a bottle that isn't soda or 8 euro a bottle juice. Drink it down and then shit fire while feeling like a gaggle of hedgehogs are trying to tear out of your abdomen. Then from that point drink more and more of the devil water now because you're totally dehydrated. And you're a little worried about dying and being found resembling an empty ketchup packet perched on a toilet. So you spend the rest of the night drinking mineral water and start this amazingly engenuitive process all over again, while spending two euro's a bottle to accompany your own rendition of kabuki theater in the bathroom. Awesome.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
The Ominous Walk of the Budgeted Backpacker :Greece Part 2
Tip Number 17: Never order the pasta bolognaise at a Greek restaurant no matter how tempting they make it sound.
Tip Number 18: Buy a spare battery for your camera in case it takes a crap on the most spectacular day.
Tip Number 19: Unless you have time and money, don’t visit a country that is fond of strikes, especially when they concern public transportation.
Tip Number 20: Fire Stadium= Fire Station
Tip Number 21: Always ask at least 3 people the same question...maybe more…because their answers are never the same.
Tip Number 22: BEWARE OF DOG
We wake up, get a late check out, hang out with our front desk man and meet a lady to share a cab with to the port in Cephalonia in order to get over to Zakynthos. Once we get over to the port, the water was just too beautiful in this little fishing village to not go snorkeling in so put on our goggles, plop in the water and swim around for a while. Once we arrived in Zakynthos we realized that the port was a lot more…well… absent then we expected it to be for it being the main port of Zakynthos. And that is because once again we had arrived at the wrong port on the wrong side of the island. Except this time there is no bus for us to hop on, actually there was not a whole lot of anything. So we pick a direction and start walking until a man comes running out from his restaurant, tells us to sit down and then tells us he will call us a cab since we look lost. Then he runs off and is lost for while. So we decide to eat while we are sitting there (Jef and I realized that this is probably a routine of this mans, to capture wandering travelers and leave them for a while sitting at one of his restaurant tables with a menu just long enough for them to eat his food haha). After we eat, I have to say, one of the worst meals of our lives our cab shows up and we were on the way to our hotel.
The Greek Islands truly are beautiful, with every house looking like its own little villa. Unfortunately the Greeks do need to learn how to build and use trash cans since some streets are completely littered with garbage. Once we arrive at our hotel I am completely blown away with how gorgeous it was. It was pink and massive right on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Our room was big and had an ocean view along with a view of the island town. And it was only a minute walk from both. We decided that since we only had the rest of that day and the next day to look around we went for a walk down town and were wrapped up in how magical and quaint it was. There are horses and carriages all over the town, everything is lit up with twinkly lights and all the people are friendly and talkative. On a whim we get signed up with an all Day Cruz around the island for following day so we got some ice-cream (of course) and went up to our hotel to get some rest.
The next morning is when we realized that Jef’s camera was officially on its way out and we were not going to be able to use it throughout the day of the cruz …sucky! Sooo we bought some disposables, which are kind of cool you know? Since it is kind of like a surprise waiting to arrive. So we got on our little cruz ship that actually had a fair amount of people on it. And after a long hour at the dock of the bay we left for our adventure. Since it is impossible it seems to escape awful American pop music anywhere you go we were thankful for having the i-pod with us. So we spent a lot of time making new playlists and mix cd’s in our mind. The island is gorgeous and surrounded by turquoise water. There are 350 caves around the island, some of which we got to snorkel through. We went to the beach where sea turtles lay their eggs, and where sadly not many make it back into the ocean. Then we went to the highlighted stop of the day Shipwreck Cove. One of the most beautiful beaches in the world, the sand is snow white and is surrounded by cliffs. On the beach there is a 100 year old smugglers ship that was abandoned and then wrecked upon the shore. It was used to smuggle booze and women apparently back in the day and you can still walk aboard it if you wanted. We got to spend plenty of time at this beach snorkeling and then we were off again.
We made some British friends who I guess love American accents, good to know someone does right? And there was a little boy with water wings and a foe-hawk who loved to talk about his fear of shark. This little boy later decided to brave up and go swimming in the pool that is on board the ship. He runs, he charges, and then he trips and flops/face plants right into the water. Afterward he gets back up and goes again; he was quite an entertainment factor.
We got back to the hotel that night and ate the best meal we had had so far in Greece, granted with the worst service. Then we went back to our room and watched the sunset over the town. Jef got sick again so I took a trip down to the ocean and went swimming and then listened to the most epic Reality sermon and came back covered in sand.
The next morning we were supposed to catch the ferry back to the main land of Greece and take a bus back to Athens to catch our flight the next day. Buttt that day was the day that the Greeks decided to hold a public transportation strike. At this point in the trip I didn’t even care or worry anymore because it wasn’t worth the effort and I knew that the Lord would again provide in some way. It turns out that there was a flight off the island at 5am the next morning to Athens which would be perfect! So we reserved some seats and met some other families that were stranded on the island and in a lot more of a pickle then us and then we went back to sleep for a while. We once again got a late check out and then talked about where we would be sleeping our last night in Greece. We have hammocks and I was stoked on that idea but the problem with Greece is that there are not a whole lot of trees. So we decided to just sleep in the airport that night. We spent the day at the beach and got some more sweets, come chocolate and banana crepes (the best in the world). We then decided to save the last of our money for a cab from the main town of Zakynthos to the airport since we couldn’t exchange American money due to the absence of American tourism at this island. So we had to walk from our small town of Tsivili to the main town of Zakynthos, which wasn’t too bad it followed the beach for around 3 miles and our packs were a bit lighter than before.
Once we arrived at the main town of Zakynthos my legs and feet needed a rest so we stopped at a sweet shop and then came to a crossroad. Do we try and walk to the airport as well so we can have money to buy ice-cream or do we not rick getting lost in the dark and just take a cab? Well we decided that we had all night to get there since it was only 930 and we went crazy and each got 4 scoops of ice cream! Ugh it was wonderous! Then we had a while to walk until we could find someone who spoke enough English to send us on our way to the airport, since no one has maps. We asked a couple people and then headed off at 1030 on what Jef called “The Ominous Walk of the Budgeted Backpacker”. This consisted of feeding stray kittens, smelling flowers and of course trying not to get eaten by guard dogs and trying not to get hit by all the random drag racing cars.
We walked 2.5 miles down a creepy road for a while where Jef almost got his leg ripped off by someone’s dog. Dogs are the main form of security in Greece, empty car lots will just have a random dog sitting in front of it along with every house. We eventually come to a hotel which tells us that it is 2.5 miles in the direction that we had just come from and then a right at a fire stadium. First…seriously…we’re exhausted. Second, what the heck is a fire stadium? So we wander back the way we came with our spirit dwindling bit by bit until we run into a random taxi driver (which we can no longer afford) to tell us that at a fire STATION we turn right. But we had no clue where this fire station was or what color it was so we were stopping at every building looking in it and walking down every crossroad. Eventually around 1:00 am we find the fire station and walk 2 miles down a street where all these random men were drag racing down with no regard to how close they are to hitting you. The airport was practically glowing when we saw it and it was open! There was no one around so we posted up on some benches for 3 hours of rest, which turned into 2 after another epic Reality sermon on worry then we woke up at 3:00 am to find out that the airport is still empty. We go back to sleep and then wake up at 5 and it is still empty. So we stay awake and finally someone shows up to tell us that our flight is at 7:00 not 5:00 and that we had to wait for the ticket lady to show up.
Since Greeks have no regard for lines we had 45mins to check in, go through security and get to our flight, and when we got up to the counter she said that our name was not on the registry. Just to ask someone else who said it was to send us back to the same woman who then realized that we were. So we checked in and got some wonderful orange juice then got on our little plane to Athens. Once in Athens we had 10 hrs to wait until we flew to Poland and then onto the great country of Armenia…
Tip Number 18: Buy a spare battery for your camera in case it takes a crap on the most spectacular day.
Tip Number 19: Unless you have time and money, don’t visit a country that is fond of strikes, especially when they concern public transportation.
Tip Number 20: Fire Stadium= Fire Station
Tip Number 21: Always ask at least 3 people the same question...maybe more…because their answers are never the same.
Tip Number 22: BEWARE OF DOG
We wake up, get a late check out, hang out with our front desk man and meet a lady to share a cab with to the port in Cephalonia in order to get over to Zakynthos. Once we get over to the port, the water was just too beautiful in this little fishing village to not go snorkeling in so put on our goggles, plop in the water and swim around for a while. Once we arrived in Zakynthos we realized that the port was a lot more…well… absent then we expected it to be for it being the main port of Zakynthos. And that is because once again we had arrived at the wrong port on the wrong side of the island. Except this time there is no bus for us to hop on, actually there was not a whole lot of anything. So we pick a direction and start walking until a man comes running out from his restaurant, tells us to sit down and then tells us he will call us a cab since we look lost. Then he runs off and is lost for while. So we decide to eat while we are sitting there (Jef and I realized that this is probably a routine of this mans, to capture wandering travelers and leave them for a while sitting at one of his restaurant tables with a menu just long enough for them to eat his food haha). After we eat, I have to say, one of the worst meals of our lives our cab shows up and we were on the way to our hotel.
The Greek Islands truly are beautiful, with every house looking like its own little villa. Unfortunately the Greeks do need to learn how to build and use trash cans since some streets are completely littered with garbage. Once we arrive at our hotel I am completely blown away with how gorgeous it was. It was pink and massive right on top of a cliff overlooking the ocean. Our room was big and had an ocean view along with a view of the island town. And it was only a minute walk from both. We decided that since we only had the rest of that day and the next day to look around we went for a walk down town and were wrapped up in how magical and quaint it was. There are horses and carriages all over the town, everything is lit up with twinkly lights and all the people are friendly and talkative. On a whim we get signed up with an all Day Cruz around the island for following day so we got some ice-cream (of course) and went up to our hotel to get some rest.
The next morning is when we realized that Jef’s camera was officially on its way out and we were not going to be able to use it throughout the day of the cruz …sucky! Sooo we bought some disposables, which are kind of cool you know? Since it is kind of like a surprise waiting to arrive. So we got on our little cruz ship that actually had a fair amount of people on it. And after a long hour at the dock of the bay we left for our adventure. Since it is impossible it seems to escape awful American pop music anywhere you go we were thankful for having the i-pod with us. So we spent a lot of time making new playlists and mix cd’s in our mind. The island is gorgeous and surrounded by turquoise water. There are 350 caves around the island, some of which we got to snorkel through. We went to the beach where sea turtles lay their eggs, and where sadly not many make it back into the ocean. Then we went to the highlighted stop of the day Shipwreck Cove. One of the most beautiful beaches in the world, the sand is snow white and is surrounded by cliffs. On the beach there is a 100 year old smugglers ship that was abandoned and then wrecked upon the shore. It was used to smuggle booze and women apparently back in the day and you can still walk aboard it if you wanted. We got to spend plenty of time at this beach snorkeling and then we were off again.
We made some British friends who I guess love American accents, good to know someone does right? And there was a little boy with water wings and a foe-hawk who loved to talk about his fear of shark. This little boy later decided to brave up and go swimming in the pool that is on board the ship. He runs, he charges, and then he trips and flops/face plants right into the water. Afterward he gets back up and goes again; he was quite an entertainment factor.
We got back to the hotel that night and ate the best meal we had had so far in Greece, granted with the worst service. Then we went back to our room and watched the sunset over the town. Jef got sick again so I took a trip down to the ocean and went swimming and then listened to the most epic Reality sermon and came back covered in sand.
The next morning we were supposed to catch the ferry back to the main land of Greece and take a bus back to Athens to catch our flight the next day. Buttt that day was the day that the Greeks decided to hold a public transportation strike. At this point in the trip I didn’t even care or worry anymore because it wasn’t worth the effort and I knew that the Lord would again provide in some way. It turns out that there was a flight off the island at 5am the next morning to Athens which would be perfect! So we reserved some seats and met some other families that were stranded on the island and in a lot more of a pickle then us and then we went back to sleep for a while. We once again got a late check out and then talked about where we would be sleeping our last night in Greece. We have hammocks and I was stoked on that idea but the problem with Greece is that there are not a whole lot of trees. So we decided to just sleep in the airport that night. We spent the day at the beach and got some more sweets, come chocolate and banana crepes (the best in the world). We then decided to save the last of our money for a cab from the main town of Zakynthos to the airport since we couldn’t exchange American money due to the absence of American tourism at this island. So we had to walk from our small town of Tsivili to the main town of Zakynthos, which wasn’t too bad it followed the beach for around 3 miles and our packs were a bit lighter than before.
Once we arrived at the main town of Zakynthos my legs and feet needed a rest so we stopped at a sweet shop and then came to a crossroad. Do we try and walk to the airport as well so we can have money to buy ice-cream or do we not rick getting lost in the dark and just take a cab? Well we decided that we had all night to get there since it was only 930 and we went crazy and each got 4 scoops of ice cream! Ugh it was wonderous! Then we had a while to walk until we could find someone who spoke enough English to send us on our way to the airport, since no one has maps. We asked a couple people and then headed off at 1030 on what Jef called “The Ominous Walk of the Budgeted Backpacker”. This consisted of feeding stray kittens, smelling flowers and of course trying not to get eaten by guard dogs and trying not to get hit by all the random drag racing cars.
We walked 2.5 miles down a creepy road for a while where Jef almost got his leg ripped off by someone’s dog. Dogs are the main form of security in Greece, empty car lots will just have a random dog sitting in front of it along with every house. We eventually come to a hotel which tells us that it is 2.5 miles in the direction that we had just come from and then a right at a fire stadium. First…seriously…we’re exhausted. Second, what the heck is a fire stadium? So we wander back the way we came with our spirit dwindling bit by bit until we run into a random taxi driver (which we can no longer afford) to tell us that at a fire STATION we turn right. But we had no clue where this fire station was or what color it was so we were stopping at every building looking in it and walking down every crossroad. Eventually around 1:00 am we find the fire station and walk 2 miles down a street where all these random men were drag racing down with no regard to how close they are to hitting you. The airport was practically glowing when we saw it and it was open! There was no one around so we posted up on some benches for 3 hours of rest, which turned into 2 after another epic Reality sermon on worry then we woke up at 3:00 am to find out that the airport is still empty. We go back to sleep and then wake up at 5 and it is still empty. So we stay awake and finally someone shows up to tell us that our flight is at 7:00 not 5:00 and that we had to wait for the ticket lady to show up.
Since Greeks have no regard for lines we had 45mins to check in, go through security and get to our flight, and when we got up to the counter she said that our name was not on the registry. Just to ask someone else who said it was to send us back to the same woman who then realized that we were. So we checked in and got some wonderful orange juice then got on our little plane to Athens. Once in Athens we had 10 hrs to wait until we flew to Poland and then onto the great country of Armenia…
Monday, June 20, 2011
Greece Part 1: Keffalonia
So Greece was full of surprises and lessons to be learned/ Tips 11-16 (which we decided to number throughout this post) but the Lord just showed himself more and more, so we thank him for every low moment!
So, the island of Keffalonia…
I had been dropping pebbles awaiting Greece and my one utter ignorance of the greeks written and spoken language. Let alone the chest hair ripping manly men, that will tell me that my Y chromosome is to effeminate for their countryside. I’ve got this whole scenario down in my head, play by play… BUT what I don’t have planned out is exactly how we’re going to stumble out of our terminal directly onto a series of busses to then find the hostel that exists more or less on a hunch… Without speaking the language.
Lesson number 1/Tip Number 11
Luckily almost everyone in Greece speaks some English and everything is translated into English as well. When you call a bus/ferry/airplane operator thank them for their time, and call them directly back within 5 minutes and ask the same questions over again. The answers change.
Lesson Number 2/ Tip Number 12
I call our bus operator and the last bus to our port leaves within 45 minutes and is an hour of middle day traffic away. With every taxi charging a $45 dollar flat rate we’re not so hot on the idea of spending $100 on transportation to just fork out another $65 on an overpriced hotel in Athens. In despair, we call back and find out the absolute contrary to the first piece of Intel and now realize that if anything we have a surplus of time. Getting to Patras Port, first of all Patras as well as the greater part of Athens looks, feels and smells like a town set in post zombie apocalypse. I found myself literally waiting for a hoard of thick-browed undead to knock over the bus at any second.
It took a little coaxing to walk Jordan off of the bus into the twilight on my spider sense that somewhere off in the rubble was a hostel with our name on it. We sure enough found it eventually, and yes I’m sure it had our name on it somewhere but it was probably written in red lipstick backwards on a mirror by some freaky kid that referred to himself in the third person as tony. (props to anyone that gets the reference). This place truly is Jive, it reminds of something you’d find after googling economy rehab clinic. Pretty great.
Getting on the ferry goes seemingly well. Minus the greek coffee (despite how legitimate it sounds it’s just Nescafe with grounds added in for authenticity) and the cheese toast we’re off to a good start. The sea is gorgeous and I have a new found wonderful sense of false security.
Lesson number 3/ Tip Number 13
No matter what you think, the ferry you get on is never taking you to the side of the island you’re planning on. Because when you ask the answer is always, “yes of course it is going to the main port” even if there is a Metropolis on one side and goat country on the other, the main port that day will goat country. Never trust the term “Main Port”.
So we’re getting off on the total opposite side of the largest island in the Ionian sea, and I don’t realize this until the moment a step off the ferry. After a slight break for a micro-tantrum, Luckily enough we find a bus to stowaway on to go to yet another mystery town.
Lesson number 4/ Tip Number 14
When left stranded in a new place after by whatever means you got there. Ferry, bus, donkey carriage. Try Immediately to find a connecting bus and do so successfully. Then began the search for the missing hotel. Now at first everything is like being in a mouse maze but eventually, with the help of one lovely Greek woman then a few other helpers, we found our hotel right on the corner of the main square. Our room was great with a balcony and since our clothes smelled of rotting bacon we washed them instantly in the shower and hung them outside to dry. We were so shocked with how quiet the island was when we arrived; seriously all you could really hear was the wind and the birds. This was a big change from Peru, and one that we were going to savor entirely. We thought that all of the stores were closed, since Greece is in a major downfall right now and most of the locally owned businesses are going under. However, come 6 pm everything on every street opens and all the people of the land arrive.
I don’t know where they all come from but I guess in Greece the people are late to bed and late to rise. They all smoke and all wear familiar American apparel. Most of them find us interesting and we get a lot of stares, probably since it is apparent that we are tourists. More than likely we were some of the only tourists on the island, since this is the quieter side of Greece which was our intention. Everyone we talked to was incredibly friendly and could go on talking for hours if we sat there patiently. Most of them were curious about where we were from and were surprised to hear America. I guess that the Ionian Islands never get American tourists so everyone assumes we are British or Italian. Then a lot of them talk about the local politics and how impossible it now is for them to make a living (the country in constantly in my prayers).
After eating one disappointing meal after another, basically just a bunch of carbs and bad meat, Jef got really sick and couldn’t leave the bathroom for a couple days. It turns out that vitamin water and Jef aren’t really the best of friends and vitamin water is the only form of water you can buy in Greece.
Lesson number 5/ Tip Number 15
So we decided we could vedge out and just watch T.V. for a while; however, only two channels were in English and the Greeks love commercials more than is humanly bearable. We got lucky with some old classics of Ghost Ship and Clash of the Titans, and every once in a while we’d get a break and watch some American shows such as Friends and House. On the third day we went to the local beach, which was by far the most gorgeous beach I had ever seen. The water was an incredibly bright turquoise and was completely see through. Jef and I both got way to red for comfortability but we didn’t want to leave since the person watching was just too grand. Nobody, and I mean not a single person was not what America would call “a healthy weight” and it was fabulous because they were all beautiful and sexy and rocking it.
We got to stay an extra day on the island since it turns out that once again the ferries aren’t running when we expected. And it was a day much needed since Jef was once again feverous and needed to sleep. We made sure to escape every day for our daily sweet fix though and to have dinner at a new restaurant. Once wonderful thing about Greece is that they LOVE their sweets and it is really one of the only great things you can get to eat there. Every street is lined with stores in this order: Clothing, Bar, Café/possible market then sweet shop! With the world’s best ice-cream, crepes and cakes. Oh my gosh there is no way I can explain the magic that is in those sweets, through the glass they are heavenly and enjoyable. Oh man, we were pleased with the sweets that is for sure…maybe a little too much but that comes later…
Lesson Numer 6/Tip Number 16: Find the Mango Sorbet and EAT IT! It makes you redefine mangos entirely…because it’s awesome!
So, the island of Keffalonia…
I had been dropping pebbles awaiting Greece and my one utter ignorance of the greeks written and spoken language. Let alone the chest hair ripping manly men, that will tell me that my Y chromosome is to effeminate for their countryside. I’ve got this whole scenario down in my head, play by play… BUT what I don’t have planned out is exactly how we’re going to stumble out of our terminal directly onto a series of busses to then find the hostel that exists more or less on a hunch… Without speaking the language.
Lesson number 1/Tip Number 11
Luckily almost everyone in Greece speaks some English and everything is translated into English as well. When you call a bus/ferry/airplane operator thank them for their time, and call them directly back within 5 minutes and ask the same questions over again. The answers change.
Lesson Number 2/ Tip Number 12
I call our bus operator and the last bus to our port leaves within 45 minutes and is an hour of middle day traffic away. With every taxi charging a $45 dollar flat rate we’re not so hot on the idea of spending $100 on transportation to just fork out another $65 on an overpriced hotel in Athens. In despair, we call back and find out the absolute contrary to the first piece of Intel and now realize that if anything we have a surplus of time. Getting to Patras Port, first of all Patras as well as the greater part of Athens looks, feels and smells like a town set in post zombie apocalypse. I found myself literally waiting for a hoard of thick-browed undead to knock over the bus at any second.
It took a little coaxing to walk Jordan off of the bus into the twilight on my spider sense that somewhere off in the rubble was a hostel with our name on it. We sure enough found it eventually, and yes I’m sure it had our name on it somewhere but it was probably written in red lipstick backwards on a mirror by some freaky kid that referred to himself in the third person as tony. (props to anyone that gets the reference). This place truly is Jive, it reminds of something you’d find after googling economy rehab clinic. Pretty great.
Getting on the ferry goes seemingly well. Minus the greek coffee (despite how legitimate it sounds it’s just Nescafe with grounds added in for authenticity) and the cheese toast we’re off to a good start. The sea is gorgeous and I have a new found wonderful sense of false security.
Lesson number 3/ Tip Number 13
No matter what you think, the ferry you get on is never taking you to the side of the island you’re planning on. Because when you ask the answer is always, “yes of course it is going to the main port” even if there is a Metropolis on one side and goat country on the other, the main port that day will goat country. Never trust the term “Main Port”.
So we’re getting off on the total opposite side of the largest island in the Ionian sea, and I don’t realize this until the moment a step off the ferry. After a slight break for a micro-tantrum, Luckily enough we find a bus to stowaway on to go to yet another mystery town.
Lesson number 4/ Tip Number 14
When left stranded in a new place after by whatever means you got there. Ferry, bus, donkey carriage. Try Immediately to find a connecting bus and do so successfully. Then began the search for the missing hotel. Now at first everything is like being in a mouse maze but eventually, with the help of one lovely Greek woman then a few other helpers, we found our hotel right on the corner of the main square. Our room was great with a balcony and since our clothes smelled of rotting bacon we washed them instantly in the shower and hung them outside to dry. We were so shocked with how quiet the island was when we arrived; seriously all you could really hear was the wind and the birds. This was a big change from Peru, and one that we were going to savor entirely. We thought that all of the stores were closed, since Greece is in a major downfall right now and most of the locally owned businesses are going under. However, come 6 pm everything on every street opens and all the people of the land arrive.
I don’t know where they all come from but I guess in Greece the people are late to bed and late to rise. They all smoke and all wear familiar American apparel. Most of them find us interesting and we get a lot of stares, probably since it is apparent that we are tourists. More than likely we were some of the only tourists on the island, since this is the quieter side of Greece which was our intention. Everyone we talked to was incredibly friendly and could go on talking for hours if we sat there patiently. Most of them were curious about where we were from and were surprised to hear America. I guess that the Ionian Islands never get American tourists so everyone assumes we are British or Italian. Then a lot of them talk about the local politics and how impossible it now is for them to make a living (the country in constantly in my prayers).
After eating one disappointing meal after another, basically just a bunch of carbs and bad meat, Jef got really sick and couldn’t leave the bathroom for a couple days. It turns out that vitamin water and Jef aren’t really the best of friends and vitamin water is the only form of water you can buy in Greece.
Lesson number 5/ Tip Number 15
So we decided we could vedge out and just watch T.V. for a while; however, only two channels were in English and the Greeks love commercials more than is humanly bearable. We got lucky with some old classics of Ghost Ship and Clash of the Titans, and every once in a while we’d get a break and watch some American shows such as Friends and House. On the third day we went to the local beach, which was by far the most gorgeous beach I had ever seen. The water was an incredibly bright turquoise and was completely see through. Jef and I both got way to red for comfortability but we didn’t want to leave since the person watching was just too grand. Nobody, and I mean not a single person was not what America would call “a healthy weight” and it was fabulous because they were all beautiful and sexy and rocking it.
We got to stay an extra day on the island since it turns out that once again the ferries aren’t running when we expected. And it was a day much needed since Jef was once again feverous and needed to sleep. We made sure to escape every day for our daily sweet fix though and to have dinner at a new restaurant. Once wonderful thing about Greece is that they LOVE their sweets and it is really one of the only great things you can get to eat there. Every street is lined with stores in this order: Clothing, Bar, Café/possible market then sweet shop! With the world’s best ice-cream, crepes and cakes. Oh my gosh there is no way I can explain the magic that is in those sweets, through the glass they are heavenly and enjoyable. Oh man, we were pleased with the sweets that is for sure…maybe a little too much but that comes later…
Lesson Numer 6/Tip Number 16: Find the Mango Sorbet and EAT IT! It makes you redefine mangos entirely…because it’s awesome!
Monday, June 13, 2011
Leaving Cusco
TIP WHATEVER NUMBER IS NEXT: Dont choose to fly in the emergency exit row. Not because of the constant pressure of everyone asking you if you understand the rules that you are the very last person to leave the plane in case it crashes but because apparentally there is a whole new set of rules. Including no sleeping, leave shoes on, and the drapes must be open! On an overnight flight this was the last try of my patience.
The day we left Cusco was a sad sad day but we said goodbye to our friends and hopped on the plane to Lima. Once in Lima we got even more depressed to be away from the Andes and the jungle since Lima is a seriously a hustling bustling billboard for soda and models. We got to relax at a hostel on the beach; however, the hostel was probably one of the loudest areas in the city! There was construction going on outside and the hostel apparentally has a gaurd dog that barks at everything that goes by. Not to mention the club that the living room transformed into at night. The people who worked there were wonderful though and thanks to them and a psychotic break by both Jef and I the Lord truly saved us and got us on our flight to Greece. Since someone stole my shirt I we decided to go shopping for a new one at the nearby americanized mall but the smog nearly choked us to death on the way there. Lima sadly needs to invest in some oxygen bars. The mall was incredibly over priced so boo hoo on that, but their fashion and jewelry is gorgeous! So Jef and I get lost in the hustle and bustle of the city on the way back to the hostel and run into a local bargain/thrift store where we find the most awesome stuff! And Jef gets all the ladies to giggle by walking off with a pair of underwear while they are trying to communicate "the way" to him. "The way" you buy clothes abroad is a lot different in america and a bit confusing to explain so I'll save it for those who are interested when I return. We do eventually get on the plane at midnight to New York and then Switzerland and then to Greece. And Greece so far has been amazing..
The day we left Cusco was a sad sad day but we said goodbye to our friends and hopped on the plane to Lima. Once in Lima we got even more depressed to be away from the Andes and the jungle since Lima is a seriously a hustling bustling billboard for soda and models. We got to relax at a hostel on the beach; however, the hostel was probably one of the loudest areas in the city! There was construction going on outside and the hostel apparentally has a gaurd dog that barks at everything that goes by. Not to mention the club that the living room transformed into at night. The people who worked there were wonderful though and thanks to them and a psychotic break by both Jef and I the Lord truly saved us and got us on our flight to Greece. Since someone stole my shirt I we decided to go shopping for a new one at the nearby americanized mall but the smog nearly choked us to death on the way there. Lima sadly needs to invest in some oxygen bars. The mall was incredibly over priced so boo hoo on that, but their fashion and jewelry is gorgeous! So Jef and I get lost in the hustle and bustle of the city on the way back to the hostel and run into a local bargain/thrift store where we find the most awesome stuff! And Jef gets all the ladies to giggle by walking off with a pair of underwear while they are trying to communicate "the way" to him. "The way" you buy clothes abroad is a lot different in america and a bit confusing to explain so I'll save it for those who are interested when I return. We do eventually get on the plane at midnight to New York and then Switzerland and then to Greece. And Greece so far has been amazing..
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Cusco Part Two: Macchu Picchu
Come nightime we end up running past downtown to try and find the hiking office realizing we're mapless then back to the hostel and back to the hikers office in a matter of minutes, sit through orientation and then start scrabbling to replace all the warm clothing I had lost over the course of 3 different airports. We then crash out late and get ready for our 6 am departure to km 82 the point where the inca trail starts.
Day one:
Starts with copius amounts of Coca Leaf that apparently you're not supposed to swallow. (Coca leaf is a Peruvian "super food" that is supposed to help aclimate you to high elevation... it's also what cocain comes from. Hopefully we don't have drug tests coming up) Our hike this day is totally cake but we still manage to lose the san franciscan photographer from our group for at least an hour. WE got to stop at a couple Incan sights and then we roll into camp and eat our typical 4 course meal and hang out with a strangley friendly ferril cat that won't detach from the dinner table. Minus the poopoo flooded bathroom even our first night was surprisingly gorgeous, we saw more stars that night than ever before.
Day two:
We wake up at the crack of dawn to start the hardest day of the trek. I remember reading multiple blogs about "day 2" not to mention the stories from our porter. It is the day that is straight up a mountain for 5 1/2 hours. They serve you coca tea every morning and then you get to eat another amazing meal from the chef, chef outfit and all. Of course I (Jordan) wake up barfing with altitude sickness. Now Jef and I were planning to aclimatize when we got into Peru for a couple days but since we missed our flight we weren't able to. And now at 10,000 ft my body was not happy. We got introduced to the porters, who carry 100 kilos up the mountain in sandals basically at a run while carrying on a conversation. Jef and I are carrying packs taht are way above the suggested weight limit for this trip but since the first day was ok we thought we could tough through it. Turns out that I can't...I am puking and falling over in the first 2 hours and am getting the "windows". That was by far the worst I have ever felt, and I couldn't enjoy the scenery without getting vertigo and being on the verge of passing out. So after multiple hours of pestering me to help take on some of the weight of my pack Jef again comes to my rescue and carries my ENTIRE pack for me. I mean come on who is so wonderful that they would carry two full sized ridiculously heavy packs up a mountain on the hardest part of the trek? Well Jeffrey Coleman Jackson, who set a completely new level of manliness, selflessness and perfect boyfriendness. I still had to stop every tweny meters to throw up and breathe while the porter is making my inhale some local alcohol that supposedly settles the stomach. We became the famous couple throughout the groups on this trek. As either the Californians, the sick couple, or the sick girl with the amazing boyfriend. People kept cheering us on and taking picture and videos of us as we climbed and eventually reached the top, surprisingly not last or to far behind the rest. Aparentally amongst other groups those who got altitude sickness just fell over and either couldn't continue or had to get a porter to carry their stuff. Once I got to the top though, then my porter decides to offer my altitude sickness medication which is a total god send uxcept it makes your hands and feet tingle. Those pills got me through the nest couple days.
Day Three:
This is the longest day, 10 hrs of hiking with lots of Incan remains along the way. Most of it downhill so it destroys your knees. But thank the Lord I chose to get a pair of poles so Jef and I both took one. The Andes are by far the most grogeous thing I have ever seen. It is no surprise to me that the Incans thought them to be gods because everytime I stopped ot look at them I couldn't believe how terrifying and magnificent they were. The plant life is so different than in America that it made me feel like I was in Jurassic Park or Jumangi. We got a porter for this day to arry one of our bags and the day was one of enjoyment. At night however not so much, I started getting sick again and fell asleep at 5 and slept til 330 the next morning when we got up to hike into Macchu Picchu.
Day Four:
We wake up and frantically hike to the Sun Gate entrance to Macchu Picchu before the sun rises. My this point all the groups that are on the hike are really close and you see familiar faces everywhere, and once we finish hiking up "The Gringo Killer" (stairs that are seriously straight up) you see the Sun Gate and it is suddenly the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Once we're there we can see Macchu Picchu down in the canyon, more massive and beautiful than we could have imagined. We hike down as the sun rises and the birds sing and then stop and stare, finally feeling the "we did it". From the pictures you think that Macchu Picchu looks big but my god it is massive. It seriously is an entire city with a convent, a school, housing, temples and 1000 terraces. It is surrounded by moutains that seem to never end and was built in only 30 days then abandoned when the Spanish arrived in Cusco and news got to the hidden city. Although we were exhausted and I felt like I was on my death bed we didn't want to leave this magical place, that was covered in wild alpaca. We finally got some peace from the chaos of Peru.
Day one:
Starts with copius amounts of Coca Leaf that apparently you're not supposed to swallow. (Coca leaf is a Peruvian "super food" that is supposed to help aclimate you to high elevation... it's also what cocain comes from. Hopefully we don't have drug tests coming up) Our hike this day is totally cake but we still manage to lose the san franciscan photographer from our group for at least an hour. WE got to stop at a couple Incan sights and then we roll into camp and eat our typical 4 course meal and hang out with a strangley friendly ferril cat that won't detach from the dinner table. Minus the poopoo flooded bathroom even our first night was surprisingly gorgeous, we saw more stars that night than ever before.
Day two:
We wake up at the crack of dawn to start the hardest day of the trek. I remember reading multiple blogs about "day 2" not to mention the stories from our porter. It is the day that is straight up a mountain for 5 1/2 hours. They serve you coca tea every morning and then you get to eat another amazing meal from the chef, chef outfit and all. Of course I (Jordan) wake up barfing with altitude sickness. Now Jef and I were planning to aclimatize when we got into Peru for a couple days but since we missed our flight we weren't able to. And now at 10,000 ft my body was not happy. We got introduced to the porters, who carry 100 kilos up the mountain in sandals basically at a run while carrying on a conversation. Jef and I are carrying packs taht are way above the suggested weight limit for this trip but since the first day was ok we thought we could tough through it. Turns out that I can't...I am puking and falling over in the first 2 hours and am getting the "windows". That was by far the worst I have ever felt, and I couldn't enjoy the scenery without getting vertigo and being on the verge of passing out. So after multiple hours of pestering me to help take on some of the weight of my pack Jef again comes to my rescue and carries my ENTIRE pack for me. I mean come on who is so wonderful that they would carry two full sized ridiculously heavy packs up a mountain on the hardest part of the trek? Well Jeffrey Coleman Jackson, who set a completely new level of manliness, selflessness and perfect boyfriendness. I still had to stop every tweny meters to throw up and breathe while the porter is making my inhale some local alcohol that supposedly settles the stomach. We became the famous couple throughout the groups on this trek. As either the Californians, the sick couple, or the sick girl with the amazing boyfriend. People kept cheering us on and taking picture and videos of us as we climbed and eventually reached the top, surprisingly not last or to far behind the rest. Aparentally amongst other groups those who got altitude sickness just fell over and either couldn't continue or had to get a porter to carry their stuff. Once I got to the top though, then my porter decides to offer my altitude sickness medication which is a total god send uxcept it makes your hands and feet tingle. Those pills got me through the nest couple days.
Day Three:
This is the longest day, 10 hrs of hiking with lots of Incan remains along the way. Most of it downhill so it destroys your knees. But thank the Lord I chose to get a pair of poles so Jef and I both took one. The Andes are by far the most grogeous thing I have ever seen. It is no surprise to me that the Incans thought them to be gods because everytime I stopped ot look at them I couldn't believe how terrifying and magnificent they were. The plant life is so different than in America that it made me feel like I was in Jurassic Park or Jumangi. We got a porter for this day to arry one of our bags and the day was one of enjoyment. At night however not so much, I started getting sick again and fell asleep at 5 and slept til 330 the next morning when we got up to hike into Macchu Picchu.
Day Four:
We wake up and frantically hike to the Sun Gate entrance to Macchu Picchu before the sun rises. My this point all the groups that are on the hike are really close and you see familiar faces everywhere, and once we finish hiking up "The Gringo Killer" (stairs that are seriously straight up) you see the Sun Gate and it is suddenly the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Once we're there we can see Macchu Picchu down in the canyon, more massive and beautiful than we could have imagined. We hike down as the sun rises and the birds sing and then stop and stare, finally feeling the "we did it". From the pictures you think that Macchu Picchu looks big but my god it is massive. It seriously is an entire city with a convent, a school, housing, temples and 1000 terraces. It is surrounded by moutains that seem to never end and was built in only 30 days then abandoned when the Spanish arrived in Cusco and news got to the hidden city. Although we were exhausted and I felt like I was on my death bed we didn't want to leave this magical place, that was covered in wild alpaca. We finally got some peace from the chaos of Peru.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Cusco part 1
TIP NUMBER SIX
Look for steps Incans LOVE steps. Including the 7,483 steps of the incan trail, your average mcdonalds has more steps in it that the Vatican, and it seems like more when you’re getting hit in the face with 4 Massage menus per meter of travel.
TIP NUMBER SEVEN
“Con gas” in 7 point font on the side of a water bottle means that this will not be a tasty beverage, only an explosion.
TIP NUMBER EIGHT (out-sourced)
If you are thrown for a loop by your travel agency and left for dead in a town called Oyotembu with no ticket, just go up to any bus driver and start yelling “NO ESTA BIEN”, “NO ESTA BIEN”, “NO ESTA BIEN!!!!!”, “NO ESTA BIEN!!!!!!!!” until that bus driver lets you get on.
TIP NUMBER NINE(out-sourced)
Lean every single form of No abla so that you can remain sitting in first-class while the co-pilot yells at you.
For example: “MOVE”, Je ne parle pas. “MOVE”, Ik zou niet spreken. “MOVE”, Nemluvím?
Cusco day one;
I don’t care if you’re straight out of the swiss alps, the second that airplane is depressurized your every cell knows it. 11,000 feet feels like being on the other end of play dough. Fun task for the first couple minutes of adjustment try: to remember your name, do simple math, understand what the big turny wheel with your luggage on it is all about. Once in our taxi two things become clear: 1 Peru doesn’t standardize drivers license testing and 2. CUSCO IS AMAZING.
This twisting, hilly, green but mostly brown, ubber catholic pandemonium inside this town is unprecedented in my book. I can’t say why but I love it. The joke “we couldn’t fix your brakes but we made your horn louder” is a way of life in this town. The first thing you see once pulling into town square is to the west is a massive Pacha Cudi statue battling it out with the even bigger Jesus statue to the east on the opposing mountain side. And off to the right is a cathedral the nearly the size of an aircraft carrier, which apparently is completely plated in gold on the inside. Allegedly all the saints are dragged out once a year and danced around which is a bastardization of the mummies this town used to pull out and make do the meringue once a year.
We’re dropped off with a thud and we walk in to our hostel that is filled with the absolute friendliest kiwis, scotts, and brits that are telling us about the town and getting us amped on salsa dancing. To say the least we’re already kicking ourselves in the ass that we’re only going to be in town for a day.
Look for steps Incans LOVE steps. Including the 7,483 steps of the incan trail, your average mcdonalds has more steps in it that the Vatican, and it seems like more when you’re getting hit in the face with 4 Massage menus per meter of travel.
TIP NUMBER SEVEN
“Con gas” in 7 point font on the side of a water bottle means that this will not be a tasty beverage, only an explosion.
TIP NUMBER EIGHT (out-sourced)
If you are thrown for a loop by your travel agency and left for dead in a town called Oyotembu with no ticket, just go up to any bus driver and start yelling “NO ESTA BIEN”, “NO ESTA BIEN”, “NO ESTA BIEN!!!!!”, “NO ESTA BIEN!!!!!!!!” until that bus driver lets you get on.
TIP NUMBER NINE(out-sourced)
Lean every single form of No abla so that you can remain sitting in first-class while the co-pilot yells at you.
For example: “MOVE”, Je ne parle pas. “MOVE”, Ik zou niet spreken. “MOVE”, Nemluvím?
Cusco day one;
I don’t care if you’re straight out of the swiss alps, the second that airplane is depressurized your every cell knows it. 11,000 feet feels like being on the other end of play dough. Fun task for the first couple minutes of adjustment try: to remember your name, do simple math, understand what the big turny wheel with your luggage on it is all about. Once in our taxi two things become clear: 1 Peru doesn’t standardize drivers license testing and 2. CUSCO IS AMAZING.
This twisting, hilly, green but mostly brown, ubber catholic pandemonium inside this town is unprecedented in my book. I can’t say why but I love it. The joke “we couldn’t fix your brakes but we made your horn louder” is a way of life in this town. The first thing you see once pulling into town square is to the west is a massive Pacha Cudi statue battling it out with the even bigger Jesus statue to the east on the opposing mountain side. And off to the right is a cathedral the nearly the size of an aircraft carrier, which apparently is completely plated in gold on the inside. Allegedly all the saints are dragged out once a year and danced around which is a bastardization of the mummies this town used to pull out and make do the meringue once a year.
We’re dropped off with a thud and we walk in to our hostel that is filled with the absolute friendliest kiwis, scotts, and brits that are telling us about the town and getting us amped on salsa dancing. To say the least we’re already kicking ourselves in the ass that we’re only going to be in town for a day.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Once in Lima
Once we arrived in Lima we had 10 hours til our flight to Cusco, and we couldn´t sleep at the airport since our stuff may get stolen so we stayed up all night, I was delusional, and then hopped on our flight to cusco at 10 am. We met the most wonderful girl next to us who is part of a big mission organization so she does missionary work in the jungles of Cusco. We got all her missionary information, and she defiitely knows of CRU, and spoke English so she was a blast to sit next to. At first it was really hard to not be able to fluently communicate to others around you but you honestly pick up their languag so fast and there are so many ways to communcate to people, either through body language or expressions. So far it had ben sticky but not bad at all and we hav been practicing our Spanich plenty! We´re in Peru right now and we´re exhausted and about to hike Macchu Picchu so I have no time to say any details but we will in 4 days when we return. Please pray for our safety on this hike since it will be the most intense thing we´ve ever done haha. Talk to you soon! (Oh and forgive my typing errors for the last couple messages this keyboard is sticky and not exactly in English)
Much Love!
Much Love!
The 2 days that felt like 2 years
Tip Number 1: Talk to the person next to you on the plane, whether you think they would like it or not, he could be someone who God put into your life for a purpous.
Tip Number 2: Once off the plane, if you have a connecting flight, don´t get to distracted by fascination with the same French colligraper who was an old explorer of Perus ancient cities who was sitting next to you on the plane.
Tip Number 3: ALWAYS triple check your flight and gate number and the departure time of your flight with what is shown on the screen, and again at the gate. If it says J12 don´t assume it´s been changed to D15 because there is another flight out to Lima at the same time with almost exactly the same flight number.
Tip Number 4: Learn Another Language!
Tip Number 5: If you can- fly LAN!!
So once Jef and I arrive into Miami from San Fran we have a total of two hours to hop over to our connecting flight to Lima that departs at 12am and arrives in Lima at 435am their time. Lima is 3 hours ahead of the west coast. When we get in we get distracted by our buddy that we met in the plane seat next to us named Claude who was also going to Lima that we assumed that he was flying out on the same flight. Our tickets said Amerian although our flight number was weirdly identicle to one on the screen that says says gate J12, but being how Jef and I are we assumed that the gate had been changed which can definitely happen from time to time. I tried asking the man at the terminal if it has been changed and he didnt speak English but shook his head so I took that as a yea. However, once we tried to board the plane the ticket wouldn´t scan because it was for the wrong flight. Our ticket was indeed for the flight out of terminal J which was boarding at the exact same time as this flight to Lima. So we start to run!! Annnnd the tram is ot running between terminals because the airport is about to close so we have to run all the way to the opposite end of the airport, get through security, and run all the way to the end of the terminal. Now thank the Lord for Jef because he ended up running carrying both our packs to send me on ahead, however i´m running with things in my mouth and bunched up in my arms so I´m dropping things left and right including our boarding pass 3 times. As I stop to pick up our tickets I turn back and see Jef with a stoled luggage cart running towards me with our packs in it. He is swerving left and right between people, almost taking one down but we had no time to stop. By the time we ran through security our legs were about to give up but we ran to th end of the terminal still. We had 15 minutes to take off time left so I thought we were good, I saw the plane at the gate and I saw the man at the counter, but when I reached him he said ¨sorry your flight is gone¨
So I collapsed to the ground and Jef is pleading with the man. Once again thank the Lord for Jef because the man at the gate said he would make it possible for us to exchange our tickets the next day free of charge for a flight into Lima at 715 pm. So we took that! So we posted up in a nearby hotel since we couldn´t sleep in the airport. Now I wanted to call the airline to make sure that he left a message on our account for the next day but when we called they said that there was nothing there and since it was our fault we missed our connecting flight they didn´t think we coulg get our tickets exchanged. Once again my heart falls out my butt and I am in shock. We were going to have to wait until the next day to find out if the Lord truly wanted us to go on this trip or not, it was a 50-50 shot either way. So we prayed and prayed and Satan really attacked me that night, however, we realized that this was supposed to happen whether or not the trip was going to continue or not. Because we were idolizing this trip and money and travel before God when this trip along with whatever plans he may have for us are for him and him alone. We sleep in piece watching the Discovery Channel and the next day we get in line for 2 hours for our tickets.
At first we were told that the airline made no reservation for us, then we heard that our flight was full, the finally we heard that we were in! Stunned with relief we couldn´t believe that our trip ws actually going to happen! So we hopped on our flight, with the best airline in the world! Free food, free wine (which I did not indulge in) free tv shows, movies and games for the tv that is on the back of the seat in front of you. It ws miraculous!
Thank and praise the Lord for there were so many coincidences that I did not write about that pointed this entire ordeal at him. And we love him for it :)
Tip Number 2: Once off the plane, if you have a connecting flight, don´t get to distracted by fascination with the same French colligraper who was an old explorer of Perus ancient cities who was sitting next to you on the plane.
Tip Number 3: ALWAYS triple check your flight and gate number and the departure time of your flight with what is shown on the screen, and again at the gate. If it says J12 don´t assume it´s been changed to D15 because there is another flight out to Lima at the same time with almost exactly the same flight number.
Tip Number 4: Learn Another Language!
Tip Number 5: If you can- fly LAN!!
So once Jef and I arrive into Miami from San Fran we have a total of two hours to hop over to our connecting flight to Lima that departs at 12am and arrives in Lima at 435am their time. Lima is 3 hours ahead of the west coast. When we get in we get distracted by our buddy that we met in the plane seat next to us named Claude who was also going to Lima that we assumed that he was flying out on the same flight. Our tickets said Amerian although our flight number was weirdly identicle to one on the screen that says says gate J12, but being how Jef and I are we assumed that the gate had been changed which can definitely happen from time to time. I tried asking the man at the terminal if it has been changed and he didnt speak English but shook his head so I took that as a yea. However, once we tried to board the plane the ticket wouldn´t scan because it was for the wrong flight. Our ticket was indeed for the flight out of terminal J which was boarding at the exact same time as this flight to Lima. So we start to run!! Annnnd the tram is ot running between terminals because the airport is about to close so we have to run all the way to the opposite end of the airport, get through security, and run all the way to the end of the terminal. Now thank the Lord for Jef because he ended up running carrying both our packs to send me on ahead, however i´m running with things in my mouth and bunched up in my arms so I´m dropping things left and right including our boarding pass 3 times. As I stop to pick up our tickets I turn back and see Jef with a stoled luggage cart running towards me with our packs in it. He is swerving left and right between people, almost taking one down but we had no time to stop. By the time we ran through security our legs were about to give up but we ran to th end of the terminal still. We had 15 minutes to take off time left so I thought we were good, I saw the plane at the gate and I saw the man at the counter, but when I reached him he said ¨sorry your flight is gone¨
So I collapsed to the ground and Jef is pleading with the man. Once again thank the Lord for Jef because the man at the gate said he would make it possible for us to exchange our tickets the next day free of charge for a flight into Lima at 715 pm. So we took that! So we posted up in a nearby hotel since we couldn´t sleep in the airport. Now I wanted to call the airline to make sure that he left a message on our account for the next day but when we called they said that there was nothing there and since it was our fault we missed our connecting flight they didn´t think we coulg get our tickets exchanged. Once again my heart falls out my butt and I am in shock. We were going to have to wait until the next day to find out if the Lord truly wanted us to go on this trip or not, it was a 50-50 shot either way. So we prayed and prayed and Satan really attacked me that night, however, we realized that this was supposed to happen whether or not the trip was going to continue or not. Because we were idolizing this trip and money and travel before God when this trip along with whatever plans he may have for us are for him and him alone. We sleep in piece watching the Discovery Channel and the next day we get in line for 2 hours for our tickets.
At first we were told that the airline made no reservation for us, then we heard that our flight was full, the finally we heard that we were in! Stunned with relief we couldn´t believe that our trip ws actually going to happen! So we hopped on our flight, with the best airline in the world! Free food, free wine (which I did not indulge in) free tv shows, movies and games for the tv that is on the back of the seat in front of you. It ws miraculous!
Thank and praise the Lord for there were so many coincidences that I did not write about that pointed this entire ordeal at him. And we love him for it :)
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