September 30
In the Mediterranean, cruising west
CU 27, No. 3 Oklahoma 24. I am swilling the Hawkins koolaid as fast as I can guzzle it.
Yesterday we went to the great ruins at Ephesus. I am not sure what I expected but this site is unbelievable. The city was created by a General of Alexander's 2300 years ago, but it was the Romans who expanded it 2000 years ago to a harbor city of 250,000, at that time the second largest city on the Mediterranean. It was continuously occupied until 1100AD when it was abandoned because the sea had receded and the port had become a malaria infested estuary. Excavation began about 150 years ago and about 10% of the site has been excavated. It may take another two hundred years to unearth and reassemble all the ruins. There was the second greatest library in antiquity. (Let's see: If the books were inscribed on stone, it must have taken a twenty elephant team pulling a massive cart to check out Gone With The Wind). There was a stadium which held 24,000 spectators. Both John and Paul lived and preached here (and our guide was George. Jane searched all day for Ringo but couldn't find him.)
Our guide was a history teacher performing his second job. He was a charmer.
"I am Jawgh, your guide. You are so lucky you came today instead of yesterday. Then you would not have had Jawgh."
"Follow me, Jawgh."
"Please follow Jawgh."
"Jawgh will lead you to the best spot in the shade for photographs."
"Jawgh, you may ask, why did the peoples leave here?"
"Jawgh will tell you."
These are spectacular ruins. We were impressed and thoroughly enjoyed the tour.
However, no matter how charming, Jawgh ultimately proved to be a crass mercenary. He was supposed to have us back by noon. We had to be back on board for departure at 330PM, and Jane wanted one more shot at the grand bazaar. But instead of bringing us straight back, Jawgh took advantage of our captive status by stopping at a rug merchant (with whom I am sure he had a commission agreement) where we were subjected to an extended sales pitch. I am happy for Jawgh to make as much money as he can------on HIS time, but not on mine, when I have no choice. Bad form by Jawgh and we ended the tour with a bad taste in our mouths. At 130, an hour and one half late, we were back in the marketplace.
Girls, we will be selling most of the things we had planned to leave to you, and probably the house, too, to pay for the goods we bought. Jane is happy, though, and that is what counts.
By the way; did you see the paper today? CU 27; #3 Oklahoma 24. Koolaid. More Koolaid, please.
Guess what happened on that last trip to the bazaar? We came around the corner in a small alleway lined with shops and bars and heard a familiar sound coming from a bar. There was a small crowd of people listening to a four piece combo. The guy on the drums was joking around and getting ready to sing again. He looked familiar. He sounded familiar. He began to complain and whine that McCartney and Lennon got all the attention. We looked closely. Damn. It was Ringo. We listened for a while. He spotted us, waved, and asked us to join him onstage and participate in the next song. We demurred. There was still one credit card that had not been maxed out.
Buongeorno. Te amo.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Marti, Bacardi, and Gaudi 2007
Kusadasi continued
It is pronounced Kushadawsee.
I was wrong. Today is the 28th not 27th. Apparently it has been all day.
We went back to town this afternoon. Surprise! The great bazaar is not 3 or 4 blocks but 20 times that. It is amazing and the sellers and traders are not simply persistent. They are aggressively so, but in a fashion that is not repellent: just the right combination of pushiness, pleading, obsequiesness, and demand honed over about two thousand years of trading. Fascinating.
Naturally we bought more stuff.
It is hard to overstate the influence of the U.S. on every part of the world I have visited. In Venice, Dubrovnik, Athens, and now in Asia Minor on the eastern edge of the Mediterranean at the Aegean, signs, ads, almolst everything is in English as well as the native tongue and many, many people speak passable English. A surprising number of business people are fluent. Today as we walked down the street a middle aged fellow who looked very Turkish passed by going the other way singing "Only You", the old doo wop song----in English. Stunning. It was more surprising than the young Spaniard. We hear a lot of broadcast music of American classic rock and roll, too, as well as some Turkish pop, and once, in a symphony of ailing cats, some kind of Turkish rap.
We both like this place. Ron and Sharon Wedeking, who are the third couple in our group and long standing friends of Jean Sparks, have had enough of Kusadasi. The traders are offensive to them.
Tomorrow we tour the ruins and will probably make one more foray into the great sea of Turkish sharks, drawn by the bait of leather, cashmere, and jewelry, before we shove off.
There is a football player for the Cincinnati Bengals named T.J. Hushmanjah. Jane calls him T. J. Whoseyomama and now she has begun calling this city Whoseyomama. Last night the walls of the fortress were illuminated from their baseand the city lights climbed the hillside above the harbor. Jane took photos of both. Maybe she will post them.
Hasta la vista, baby.
It is pronounced Kushadawsee.
I was wrong. Today is the 28th not 27th. Apparently it has been all day.
We went back to town this afternoon. Surprise! The great bazaar is not 3 or 4 blocks but 20 times that. It is amazing and the sellers and traders are not simply persistent. They are aggressively so, but in a fashion that is not repellent: just the right combination of pushiness, pleading, obsequiesness, and demand honed over about two thousand years of trading. Fascinating.
Naturally we bought more stuff.
It is hard to overstate the influence of the U.S. on every part of the world I have visited. In Venice, Dubrovnik, Athens, and now in Asia Minor on the eastern edge of the Mediterranean at the Aegean, signs, ads, almolst everything is in English as well as the native tongue and many, many people speak passable English. A surprising number of business people are fluent. Today as we walked down the street a middle aged fellow who looked very Turkish passed by going the other way singing "Only You", the old doo wop song----in English. Stunning. It was more surprising than the young Spaniard. We hear a lot of broadcast music of American classic rock and roll, too, as well as some Turkish pop, and once, in a symphony of ailing cats, some kind of Turkish rap.
We both like this place. Ron and Sharon Wedeking, who are the third couple in our group and long standing friends of Jean Sparks, have had enough of Kusadasi. The traders are offensive to them.
Tomorrow we tour the ruins and will probably make one more foray into the great sea of Turkish sharks, drawn by the bait of leather, cashmere, and jewelry, before we shove off.
There is a football player for the Cincinnati Bengals named T.J. Hushmanjah. Jane calls him T. J. Whoseyomama and now she has begun calling this city Whoseyomama. Last night the walls of the fortress were illuminated from their baseand the city lights climbed the hillside above the harbor. Jane took photos of both. Maybe she will post them.
Hasta la vista, baby.
Friday, September 28, 2007
Marti, Bacardi, and Gaudi Tour 2007
9-27
2:45PM
Kusadasi, Turkey
Kusadasi is the gateway to Ephesus (which as we all know is an important archeological site--ahem_). Kusadasi is a thoroughly charming port guarded by a small island fortress at the mouth of the harbor. Tomorrow we tour Ephesus. Today we almost bought Turkey. The town center is only 1000 yards from the pier and it is a grand bazaar of leather, jewelry, cashmere, handmade Turkish carpets (the best in the world) with prices beginning at the cost of a new economy vehicle, and junk. These traders (and they have apparently been honing their craft for about 3000 years) are your instant best friends, revelling in the opportunity to lighten your load even as they "give you the best deal in the land; almost no profit, really, but you are my first customer of the day and we believe it is good luck to make the first sale, so we almost give this to you".
As one young lady outside a jewelry store said to Jane, "Come in. I can take your money here."
They met their match in Janey, though, and after the best of efforts by determined experts from three jewelry stores stores she escaped with her bankroll intact. I was less resolute. I hope all of you like sandstone Turkish amulets. You are each getting one for Christmas. I had the good fortune to meet Jusef and Otto and Hakim, all of whom separated me from my money. Jane did succumb, though, to the blandishments of a fellow who sold her a "genuine fake" Rolex, which of course is far superior to the "fake fake" Rolexes available in many shops.
I forgot to tell you about Jane's hamburger in Athens. We stopped at an outdoor cafe in Plaka (the old city shopping district filled entirely with junk no self respecting gypsy would steal). She took one bite of her burger, pulled the slab from between the buns and thrust it toward me.
"Taste this."
Ever notice how somebody stunned by a horrific odor will thrust the reeking thing at you and command, "Smell this."?
I took a bite. Even well prepared dog is not that great, but poorly prepared dog really sucks. I think it was black lab, but I can't be sure. It may have been golden retriever.
Buona Sera. Te amo.
2:45PM
Kusadasi, Turkey
Kusadasi is the gateway to Ephesus (which as we all know is an important archeological site--ahem_). Kusadasi is a thoroughly charming port guarded by a small island fortress at the mouth of the harbor. Tomorrow we tour Ephesus. Today we almost bought Turkey. The town center is only 1000 yards from the pier and it is a grand bazaar of leather, jewelry, cashmere, handmade Turkish carpets (the best in the world) with prices beginning at the cost of a new economy vehicle, and junk. These traders (and they have apparently been honing their craft for about 3000 years) are your instant best friends, revelling in the opportunity to lighten your load even as they "give you the best deal in the land; almost no profit, really, but you are my first customer of the day and we believe it is good luck to make the first sale, so we almost give this to you".
As one young lady outside a jewelry store said to Jane, "Come in. I can take your money here."
They met their match in Janey, though, and after the best of efforts by determined experts from three jewelry stores stores she escaped with her bankroll intact. I was less resolute. I hope all of you like sandstone Turkish amulets. You are each getting one for Christmas. I had the good fortune to meet Jusef and Otto and Hakim, all of whom separated me from my money. Jane did succumb, though, to the blandishments of a fellow who sold her a "genuine fake" Rolex, which of course is far superior to the "fake fake" Rolexes available in many shops.
I forgot to tell you about Jane's hamburger in Athens. We stopped at an outdoor cafe in Plaka (the old city shopping district filled entirely with junk no self respecting gypsy would steal). She took one bite of her burger, pulled the slab from between the buns and thrust it toward me.
"Taste this."
Ever notice how somebody stunned by a horrific odor will thrust the reeking thing at you and command, "Smell this."?
I took a bite. Even well prepared dog is not that great, but poorly prepared dog really sucks. I think it was black lab, but I can't be sure. It may have been golden retriever.
Buona Sera. Te amo.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Dad
Your posting are great and your celebrity sightings have left me envious! Glad that you're trip is going well. Love to you both. Mean it.
Anyone reading these postings, you may have to go to blog archives to view earlier posting from Phil and Jane's trip. It's on the lower left side of the page.
Tish
Anyone reading these postings, you may have to go to blog archives to view earlier posting from Phil and Jane's trip. It's on the lower left side of the page.
Tish
Athens
9/27 We have been to Athens. We have been to the Acropolis and Parthenon. I doubt we will return. Athens has only the antiquities to speak for it. Otherwise it is a city of 5 million with a poor and overcrowded road and street system, wires, room air conditioners, and tv antennas everywhere, uninspired and bland architecture, and as many tourists as locals.
The Parthenon and its attendant temples tre tying their best to crumble and collapse. The Greeks are trying their best to stop them, so these great antiquities are encased in scaffolding and the sites themselves are construction or rather re-construction zones. Nonetheless it was worth the visit to walk where the ancients walked. We are back aboard for a trip to the gym and maybe a nap.
Great weather, though.
We got back to the ship and I went straight for the computer to record the events of the day. It was dead. It would do nothing. I hauled the thing down to the computer center on Deck 4. First one geek examined it, then another, then three geeks together went over it. They conferred in hushed tones then approached me . "We cannot fix it, sir. I am sorry. There is one chance, though. There is a fellow ashore who is an absolute genius with these things. He can't come aboard but he can meet you at the pier." "Call him."
Five minutes later we were standing on the pier, looking for a computer whiz kid.
But the only person in sight was an old fellow ambling towards us. He wore baggy, old khakis, work boots, a seedy vest, and the classic Greek fishing cap. He clenched his pipe between his teeth. He waved to us.
Jane and I waved back.
"He must want to sell us something." she said. He had what appeared to be a small tackle box in his hand.
"We don't have time for this." I said. He waved again. He grabbed the bowl of his pipe smiled widely and shouted "allooooo" Oh, shit.
He strode to us, thrust his hand toward mine, pumped my hand several times then turned to Jane. He grasped her hand gently, bowed, and kissed it.
"Where is it?" He asked.
"Where is what?"
"The computer."
"The computer?"
"Of course. Why else would I be here?"
Oh my God, I thought. My computer is history.
He sat on the pier, opened his tackle box and pulled out a small pouch from which he filled and tamped his pipe. After it was lit, he reached into the box again and pulled out a shot glass and a small flask of ouzo. He poured a shot, downed it with a flourish, and bent to the computer.
Oh my God. My computer is history.
His thick, gnarled old fingers were too big for such delicate work, but they whirled and he grunted and harrumphed and in short order he had repaired the ailing computer. He handed it to me and, smiling, said, "there it is."
"Thank you. What do I owe you?"
"Owe me? Have a drink with me."
"Sir?"
"One drink."
He bent to his tackle box and withdrew two more shot glasses. We toasted.
"To life!" He said and we threw the ouzo down our throats.
"Sir, I must..."
He waved me off. "Nonsense, enjoy."
He turned and began to amble away.
"Sir," I shouted, "Who are you? May I know your name?"
He turned back to us, raised his hand high over his head, twirled three times about, bowed and said, "I am Zorba!"
Of course. It was none other. We had met the great --Zorba the Geek.
At Sea
9/26
We ran into a strong headwind and blustery seas during the night. This morning we went up to walk a couple miles around the jogging track on deck 11, but we only made one lap. The winds almost blew us over. We went into the gym and worked out. Yesterday was Dubrovnik, Crotia, a small (50,000) ancient port with a colorful history. The "Old Town" inside the walled city is extraordinarily will preserved and clean. The streets are paved with marble salbs that have been in place hundreds of years. It is a thoroughly charming city. They build here with limestone blocks topped by red tile roofs. It is both cheap and attractive. And durable. We drove inland up a small river and lunched under shady trees by the riverside. This area has a climate similar to coastal California. There are olive groves and vineyards, lemon, lime and other citrus, and lots of lush foliage in the valleys between rocky slopes. They suffered a devastating fire a couple of years ago. Many vineyards were consumed. Then we drove to a seaside village named Cavstat (pronounced softet). It was completely charming.
We enjoyed an unexpected pleasure in Cavstat. Jennifer, we saw Elvis! He was singing in a small seaside restaurant. He is older, of course, and wears his hair a lot like mine. He has slimmed down - very trim and toned. He sings his stuff, of course, but now he also sings a lot of Sinatra and jazz standards. His baritone is smoother. We talked to him for about 30 minutes during his break. It is obvious that he is content and happy living this obscure life. Jane got some terrific photos of us together.
We ran into a strong headwind and blustery seas during the night. This morning we went up to walk a couple miles around the jogging track on deck 11, but we only made one lap. The winds almost blew us over. We went into the gym and worked out. Yesterday was Dubrovnik, Crotia, a small (50,000) ancient port with a colorful history. The "Old Town" inside the walled city is extraordinarily will preserved and clean. The streets are paved with marble salbs that have been in place hundreds of years. It is a thoroughly charming city. They build here with limestone blocks topped by red tile roofs. It is both cheap and attractive. And durable. We drove inland up a small river and lunched under shady trees by the riverside. This area has a climate similar to coastal California. There are olive groves and vineyards, lemon, lime and other citrus, and lots of lush foliage in the valleys between rocky slopes. They suffered a devastating fire a couple of years ago. Many vineyards were consumed. Then we drove to a seaside village named Cavstat (pronounced softet). It was completely charming.
We enjoyed an unexpected pleasure in Cavstat. Jennifer, we saw Elvis! He was singing in a small seaside restaurant. He is older, of course, and wears his hair a lot like mine. He has slimmed down - very trim and toned. He sings his stuff, of course, but now he also sings a lot of Sinatra and jazz standards. His baritone is smoother. We talked to him for about 30 minutes during his break. It is obvious that he is content and happy living this obscure life. Jane got some terrific photos of us together.
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