Syria - 17

I had to take 3 connection buses to get to Aleppo, Syria. The first bus was just 2 hour from Gomere in Cappadocia, to another city called Kayseri. Kayseri is in the middle of the country and it seems to be a major connecting city for buses going in all kinds of direction in Turkey. The bus station looks a lot like an airport, very clean and big. The buses are very nice and modern. The one I took to Kayseri, had a movie playing and even two attendants on board. The second bus from Kayseri, took about 8 hours until another city near the border with Syria called Antakya. I travelled beside a medicine student that was going on vacation to his home in Antakya. He said his studies would take about 12 years for the medicine course with specialization! I had to wait about 3 hours in Antakya for the next bus to Aleppo. While I was waiting, I met 3 other travellers. Hugh, from Scotland, Jun from Japan and Mi from Korea. We decided to stay together and try to find a room for the 4 of us. The trip to Aleppo was just about 2 hours and everything worked fine at the border. Mi didn't have a visa for Syria but luckly she got one at the border. The visa for Syria is famous to be a difficult one. Most people who heard I was going to Syria would ask me right away if I had my visa already. Mine was a very easy one to get in Ottawa. Arriving in Alleppo was very interesting. It was very warm and I felt as if my cold days were pretty much over. The city does feel like it is in the middle of a semi desert area. It has about 4 million people but it feels much smaller. Everywhere looks dusty. We started to walk towards the hostel that we had seen on our guide book and the streets were also dusty. There was a bit of garbage around, markets that seemed ancient and buildings dusty and dilapidated that seemed to have suffered from the elements for a long time without much up keep. It was as if over the years, the wind slowly had swept through the buildings and had left it's marks around. The transit was very chaotic and when you cross a street, you run for your life! My tact was to actually be beside a local and cross at same time as he or she does. As if I was their shadow. Better yet, making sure that the local was closer to the car than me! Even the Lonelly Planet guide tells us to do this and shield ourselves using the locals! The cars just don't stop! It is a miracle actually, to see cars without any scratch.We found a hostel that was charging 10 dollars per night. So, Hugh and I decided to take that. Jun and Mi, were trying to get something even cheaper. So the guy at the hotel said that accross the street there was one that was cheaper but not so nice. After leaving our things in the room, Hugh and I went to meet the other two. Their room fit 4 people and was half the price and very nice. It even had a covered rooftop area with tables, chairs and couches. with internet! Hugh and I run across to chat with the guy even though we were sure that he would never agree in giving us the money back and allow us to change hotels. He did! We couldn't believe it. I just made sure that I told him that being a traveller, things like that are the ones that make us like a country. What I didn't know was that he wasn't the only one. The whole city is amazingly friendly! People stop you on the street to say welcome to Syria! They invite you for coffee, they want to chat with you, etc. The Lonely Planet says about Syria:"Contrary to what the US State Department may wish the world to think, Syria is not populated by terrorists, zealots and other bogeymen. In fact, Syrians are among the most friendly and hospitable people in the world, and most visitors to their country end up developing a lifelong infatuation with it's gentle charms"They couldn't be more truthful than that! The following day, we took off to wander through the city and the people of that city were so amazing that Aleppo has imprinted it's hospitality in every traveller's heart that I spoke to. We found a great juice shop just around the corner of the hostel and we became customers of one that belonged to two very nice guys. If you ask somebody to take their pictures, they are happy to do it. Well, not women. I took some nice pictures of children and guys. People kept shaking our hand to say "welcome to Syria", etc. One guy, started to talk to us and wouldn't allow us to leave before he bought us some soft drinks and still, he invited us over to his home for coffee. I learned about a word that means the politeness, etiquette and behaviour of the muslims. It is called "adab" and means exactly what we found in Syria: This politeness, the courtesy, the manners and respect that they treat everybody. It is just a wonderful thing to see and feel. I find extremelly touching when you have any nice interaction with you and at the end, when you say Shukran or Ma'salama (thank you or bye), they put their right hand on top of their heart. I find it a beautiful gesture! It is something you see throughout the Middle East but it happens so more often in Syria! At night, I was passing by a street when the imans at the mosques started to invite the muslims to pray, chanting on the minarets of the mosques. I saw many, many men peacefully going in, saying hi to me in the most polite and friendly way. While they were inside I kept praying too on the outside. Praying that this friendliness never gets attacked by another powerfull country the way that happened in Iraq and in so many other countries and times. Close to the hostel, we found an alley that I nicknamed "the copper alley". They are many small shops specialized on copper plates, dishes, etc. It was quite an amazing thing! Each shop is specialized in some part of the process and the whole alley becomes an interesting communal assembly line. One shop will cut the copper, the other will bend it to get the shape, the other will decorate it banging different types of stamps for the indentations, the other will brush it, etc. Very interesting place and all the guys in the shops invite you to come over, have tea with them, etc. Most of them don't even try to sell you anything. The souk (market) of Aleppo, has been active since 1574! It does look medieval and once again the people were very friendly. Naturally being a market, there was a bit of people inviting us to buy things but not too much. Even there, they are so friendly and most just want to talk to you. I saw a boy giving a massage to an older man and I made signs to say I wanted it too. The funny part was that he called me until I came over. Then, he told the boy to go away and told me in arabic that it was my turn. So I gave him a few minutes massage. Such a joker!After the souk, we went to the Great Mosque. It is probably one of the nicest ones I've been to. It is all built in marble or something similar that is full of little holes like swiss cheese or pumice stone. The light beige or light brown colour of the stone all over, including the huge courtyeard makes it look very clean and peaceful. At the main entrance you have to remove your shoes as in every other mosque. To walk through the courtyard in socks feels really nice as if you are walking through a stone paved oasis. Inside the mosque, there's an area that was closed but is supposed to have the head of Zacharias, father of John the Baptist, who baptized Jesus. When you think about it, it is very impressive to see how the Muslim and Christian faiths are related! When we were leaving the mosque, the sun was already down but the dark blue of the sky was beautiful with a crescent moon just behind the minaret of the mosque and two palm trees. That, with the lights of the mosque transforming everything into a golden colour just made me feel like staying there for hours and hours. The following day, we took a bus to Palmyra, where there are some very nice roman ruins. Hugh decided to go straight to Damascus to try to get his visa for Iran. Jun, Mi and myself carried on to Palmyra. On our way to the bus station I saw a scene that I found so funny and great! We passed by a woman that was totally covered, even her head was all covered with a black veil. She was slim and had a very nice walk. I looked around and I could see many guys checking her out, lusting for her! Even though they couldn't see even an inch of her skin! The area around Aleppo is full of plantations! I loved to see that! Even though it is a semi desertic area, they are able to grow lots of different crops there and I saw huge irrigation systems being used and plantations being cultivated until my eyes could reach! On the bus, we started to talk to a Syrian guy called Shalan. He was going to Palmyra to visit his uncle and invited us to his uncle's home for lunch. Mi decided to accept it so did we. After our acceptance for the lunch, we kept talking and he mentioned that he had been in prison twice. The more we talked, the more I understood that he had been in prison for not keeping his mouth shut. Still, I kept thinking to myself: here we are, following a guy that has been to prison twice! We took a taxi to his uncle's home and he wouldn't even allow us to pay for the taxi ride! His uncle didn't speak english and was very shy at first. It took a while to meet his wife but she was very friendly and was using western clothes inside the house. The meal was served over a cloth on top of the carpet in the living room and we all sat with our legs crossed around the food. The nicest meal I've had in the middle east. We laughed, drank tea and ate and ate and chatted until the evening arrived. They were beautiful hosts and we talked a lot about many aspects of the Syrian culture. Rania, the aunt, doesn't cover herself even when she goes out of the house. I asked her if she felt any prejudisms because of that and she said she doesn't care about the others. That's when I clapped for her. Still, I got the impression that even though the majority of women cover themselves, she doesn't have any problem. After our goodbyes, they called a friend who's a taxi driver and he took us to the hostel we had seen in our guide.We found a hostel that charged us 3 dollars for each bed! It was in a huge room in the basement but was totally fine. It had big windows and was very comfortable. At night, we went out for dinner and as we passed by a hair saloon, some guys inside called us. Mi just said: there goes Ralf talking to the locals again! They invited us inside to have some tea with them. Just friendly guys that wanted to chat with foreigners and have some pictures taken with them. So, now, when I get to Toronto or Brazil, I need to develop some pictures and send to them. Palmyra is situated in the middle of a desert. The roman ruins are very impressive and occupy a radius of about 2 km. You do get a feeling on how life would be at that time. There's the roundabout right in the middle of the city, the forum, many columns still standing, the baths, the funeral chapel, the avenues, the tombs, etc. Quite amazing. And then, you get this eerie feeling of being in a dead city. A city that once had life, love, ambition, a Queen, soldiers, friendship and now is just a dead city in ruins.After the ruins, I decided to go to Damascus to try to get my visa for Soudan, which has been a problem until now. I tried to get the visa in Canada but they said it was too soon, since I would be there just at the end of the year. In Vienna, I tried again and the guy said that they just gave visas for European residents. I said bye to Mi and Jun, who decided to go the following day direct into Lebanon but we were going to try to hook up again in Beirut. When I got to Damascus, I shared a taxi with a Syrian couple and they left me 2 blocks away from the hostel. The first guy I asked for directions, offered me tea and wanted to take a picture with me on his cel phone. Which is the other thing. Everybody everywhere has a cel and also it feels that is almost mandatory that everybody smokes! In Europe I was almost ready to see pigeons smoking in the squares! When I got to the hostel Al Rabie, Hugh was there. We were glad to see each other again and we stayed in the same room with a german guy that converted to Islam and is trying to find work in Syria. The El Rabie hostel has a lovelly courtyard with some vine plants crossing over about 4 or 5 metres up and falling down like a green cascade all over. Under the branches and branches of plants falling down, there are tables and chairs where the guest seat to chat with each other, read, drink tea and naturally, smoke. I sat there and met Catherine, a very nice Swiss woman who's also converted to Islam. She was going back on the same evening to Switzerland but invited me over to go out and have dinner with her. Very interesting woman that works for the tourism office of Switzerland and is trying to publish a book of fotography of all the tombs of the holy people in the Muslim faith. On the next morning, which was a Friday, I woke up early to go to the Soudanese Embassy. After walking a few blocks, I asked a policeman that was guarding some asfalt workers fixing the road. No one spoke English but slowly I can see some of the words from my Arabic classes coming back to me. It is such a great feeling! My vocabulary is tiny, tiny but has helped a lot. Well, after all, I just had 8 lessons and the teacher was more interested in teaching us how to write than the vocabulary. Still, I made myself understood and kept walking towards the right direction. Just a block later, the asfalt guys passed by on their very old truck smelling petroleum and gave me a lift. It was great because it was quite far. I got to the street and the guards for the other embassies around kept telling me in arabic that it wasn't there. I asked one of them to write everything for me in arabic and he told me to take a taxi. When I got to the corner, I asked another policeman if I should cross the street to get the taxi and he told me to get a mini van. He stopped a mini van that cost me 20 cents and they took me to the other side of the city. There, I showed the paper in arabic to a father and 14 year old daughter who started to walk with me until the place. Then he met a friend who said it was really far away. So, I told them I would get on a taxi. He flagged a taxi and told everything to the driver and made sure I understood that I should pay only 2 dollars. The taxi driver didn't speak any, any english but we kept talking and he was from Antakia in Turkey and has been in Syria for 2 years. We laughed a lot because of our difficulty with the conversation. When we finally got to the Soudanese embassy, he didn't want to accept the money! I've never seen that! I ended up convincing him to take it and gave him 3 dollars. After all this marathon, I found out that the muslim weekend is Friday and Saturday and the Embassy was closed! Luckly to go back to the hostel I was able to do it only with one mini van from a main road near by. The most interesting about this morning was that through all this back and fourth, I didn't find anybody that spoke english. Somehow, communication can go so much more than language! I went back to the hostel and then, decided that I would rather spend the weekend in Lebanon. Just 3 hours away. So, the rest of this message about Syria, happened after Lebanon - 18! LOL! Jun, myself and Mi went to the bus station in Beirut to go back to Syria but found out the bus was leaving just 3 hours later. There were many taxis offering the trip to Damascus for just 4 dollars more than the bus but Jun and Mi had to bargain to the end to see if they could get it cheaper. They are very good companions and I am really enjoying travelling with them but sometimes they go overboard. Sometimes they will say that 50 cents for something is expensive. So, my new attitude with them is to let them deal with the whole thing and I just come along. We ended up taking a taxi with an Iraqi couple that was going to Damascus as well. At the border it was very easy to cross again into Syria too. This time we decided to stay in a different hotel that was on the same street of Al Rabie for the same price that included breakfast. I was sorry that we didn't have the courtyard like Al Rabie but it was actually nicer. The receptionist was a lovelly Syrian woman with a very relaxed and fun attitude. Our room had 3 beds that were quite high and the ceiling was very high too. The heavy and ornate frames around the doors and windows, the very old mirror above the sink in the room. It gave the feeling that it probably had been a very nice hotel a hundred years ago. Over the years, it had been just fixed and painted without much alteration. There was a touch of class of old days that you felt in the air. Like an old lady that has lost it's wealth and beauty and now, just stands there gazing and breathing a past that is no longer. That's what seems to happen to lots of backpackers places all over the world. Since the first day I was in Damascus, there was a very old barber on the street that would always wave at me and any other backpacker passing by. He seemed to be around 70 years old. Very friendly guy! If he had a customer, he would just wave at us. If he wasn't busy, he would come out of his shop to shake hands and just have some small talk with us in a mix of English, Arabic and French. So, after I came back from Lebanon, I decided to cut my (little) hair and shave with him. To get him to shave me felt like one of the most dangerous things I've done on this trip! I had never been to a barber shop before to get my beard shaved. He applied the warm foam on my face, got the blade and started to shave away. Anybody that passed on the street, he would just lift that sharp, sharp blade from my skin to wave at the backpackers and other people on the street. That's when I understood really well what his other customers were going through when that kind barber waved at me while I passed in front of his shop! After my shave, the 3 of us just went for a walk on the old souk and went to the Umayyad Mosque. Another beautiful place with a very peaceful courtyard in the middle. One of the imans was at a corner of the mosque preaching and praying with about 100 men seated on the carpet listening to him. It was nice to see that, it felt really laid back and his voice carried lots of a fatherly wisdom it seemed. In another area of the mosque, there was the mausoleum of Saladin, one of the important names for the muslims. There was an area beside his tomb that was an open silver box where everybody coming in was putting their head inside and praying for about a minute or so. An older muslim guy saw me looking at this and brought me to the silver box to do the same. It was such a nice feeling! I put my head inside while he had his hand on my back that felt like a grandfather's guiding hand. I don't know if it was the smells of many perfumes or incense but while I put my head inside, I felt like I could smell all the nicest aromas of the Middle East. After a week in Syria it was time to leave again. My heart wanted me to go back to Aleppo. Wanted me to go back to that copper alley and spend the rest of my vacation on that city. To devote myself to help those guys, eat with them, learn their language and maybe find a way to make a difference there. I think what they have there is so beautiful! Even though I think they have an amazing community assembly line, their shops are dirty, small and littered. I dreamed of spending time there to paint the shops, making neat things in mosaics for them as signs, get a pole across with a sign that said "copper alley" and make it more turistic and this way more profitable for themselves while I imersed myself in their culture. It made me really understand how some turists will change their route and then, just settle somewhere along the way. I still feel more strong about carrying on with my trip though. Even though I just fell in love with Syria and it's beautiful people, I think it was the easiest country for me to leave until now. The other ones, I want to go back to but deep inside, I didn't know if it will happen or not. With Syria, it felt more certain. It didn't feel like a goodbye at all, it felt more like I was just saying "I will see you soon again Syria!". Ralf - Levoyageurpanamericano Eu tive que esperar umas 3 horas em Antakya para pegar o proximo onibus para Aleppo. Enquanto eu estava esperando, eu conheci mais 3 outros viajantes. Hugh, da Escocia, Jun do Japao e Mi da Koreia. Nos decidimos viajar juntos ate Aleppo e tentar achar um quarto para os 4. A viagem ate Aleppo foi de umas 2 horas e tudo correu bem na fronteira. Mi nao tinha o visto para a Siria mas ela conseguiu o dela na fronteira. O visto da Siria parece ser bem dificil de ser conseguido mas o meu foi bem facil em Ottawa. Chegar em Aleppo foi bem interessante. Estava bem quente eu eu senti que os meus dias de frio haviam chegado ao final. A cidade parece que esta situada em algum lugar semi-desertico. Eh uma cidade de 4 milhoes de habitantes mas parece bem menor. Tudo parece empoeirado. Nos comecamos a andar no sentido do albergue que haviamos visto no nosso guia e as ruas tambem estavam empoeiradas. Um pouco de lixo, mercados que pareciam hiper antigos e predios empoeirados e dilapidados que pareciam ter sofrido a passagem do tempo sem nenhuma manutencao. Parecia que o vento havia lentamente e ao longo dos anos passado por ali deixando as marcas dele. O transito era bem caotico e quando a gente cruzava alguma rua, a gente corria para nao ser atropelado! A minha tatica era de ficar do lado de alguem da cidade e cruzar na sombra dele ou dela. Melhor ainda, ter certeza que a outra pessoa estava mais proxima do carro do que voce. Ate mesmo o meu guia fala para a gente usar essa tatica e usar o povo da cidade como escudo! Os carros simplesmente nao param! Eh um milagre ver carros sem nenhum arranhao ou amassado! Nos achamos um albergue que estava cobrando 10 dolares por noite. Eu e Hugh decidimos ficar la. Jun e Mi, queriam achar algo mais barato ainda e o cara do nosso hotel recomendou um outro do outro lado da rua. Mais barato mas nao muito bom. Depois que eu e Hugh deixamos as mochilas no quarto, nos fomos encontrar os outros dois. O quarto deles cabia 4 pessoas e era metade do preco do nosso e era bem legal. Tinha ate uma varanda coberta no ultimo andar com mesas, cadeiras, sofas e ate internet! Eu e Hugh corremos do outro lado da rua para conversar com o cara do hotel mesmo sabendo que provavelmente ele nao iria devolver o dinheiro e deixar a gente trocar de albergue! Ele deixou! Nos nao conseguiamos acreditar. Eu fiz questao de falar para ele que sendo um viajante, sao coisas assim que fazem a gente gostar de um pais. O que eu nao sabia eh que essa bondade nao era uma coisa dificil de encontrar em Aleppo ou na Siria. A cidade eh toda hiper amigavel! Pessoas param voce na rua para te dar as boas vindas a Siria! Eles te convidam para tomar cafe, querem conversar com voce, etc.O meu livro guia "Lonely Planet" fala assim da Siria:Ao contrario do que o governo americano quer que o mundo pense, a Siria nao eh populada por terroristas outros bichos papao. Na verdade, os Sirios sao um dos povos mais amigaveis e hospitaleiros do mundo, e a maioria dos visitantes acabam se apaixonando pelo resto da vida pelos charmes gentis dessa terra"Eles nao poderiam ter falado uma verdade maior! No dia seguinte, nos saimos para explorar a cidade e o povo dessa cidade eh tao incrivel que Aleppo tem imprimido a hospitalidade dela no coracao de todo viajante que eu conversei ate agora e que ja passou por la. Nos achamos uma barraca de sucos otima pertinho do albergue e ficamos frequeses de uma que os donos eram dois caras bem gente fina. Se voce pede a alguem para tirar foto deles, eles ficam felizes para sair na foto. Bem, mulheres nao. Eu tirei umas fotos bem legais de criancas e homens. As pessoas estao sempre te dando a mao para lhe dizer "bem vindo a Siria", etc. Um rapaz comecou a conversar com a gente e nao deixou a gente continuar o nosso passeio enquanto ele nao comprou refrigerante pra gente, e depois ainda queria que a gente fosse na casa dele tomar cafe. Eu aprendi uma palavra que significa educacao, etiqueta e o comportamento dos mulcumanos. A palavra eh "Adab" e significa exatamente o que encontramos na Siria: a educacao, a cortesia, as boas maneiras e o respeito com o qual eles tratam todo mundo. Eh uma coisa maravilhosa de se ver e de sentir. Uma coisa que eu fico ate emocionado eh quando eles interagem com voce e no final, quando voce fala shukran ou ma'salama (obrigado ou adeus), eles colocam a mao direita deles em cima do coracao. Acho isso lindo! Voce ve isso pelo Oriente Medio inteiro eu acho mas na Siria, parece acontecer muito mais. A noite, eu estava passando em uma rua quando os imans comecaram a chamar os mulculmanos para rezar, cantando nos minaretes das mesquitas. Eu vi muitos e muitos homens caminhando pacificamente para a mesquita, me cumprimentando bem educadamente. Enquanto eles estava la dentro rezando, eu tambem estava do lado de fora rezando. Rezando para que essa simpatia toda nunca seja atacada por um outro pais poderoso com aconteceu com o Iraque e em tantos outros paises e outras epocas.

Perto do albergue, nos achamos uma ruela que eu apelidei de "o beco do cobre". Sao varias oficinas pequenas especializadas em fazer pratos de cobre, vasos, panelas, etc. Achei fantastico! Cada lojinha eh especializada em uma parte do processo de fabricacao e o beco todo vira uma linha de montagem comunitaria. Uma loja corta o cobre, a outra amassa o cobre ate ficar no formato desejado, a outra decora o cobre martelando com carimbos diferentes, a outra lustra o cobre, etc. Um lugar muito interessante e todos os caras que trabalham la te convidam a entrar nas oficinas, tomar cha com eles, etc. A maioria deles nem tenta te vender algo. O Souk (mercado) de Aleppo, funciona desde 1574! E tem um jeito medieval mesmo e as pessoas tambem sao hiper amigaveis. Com certeza, que tratando de um mercado, as pessoas te convidam para entrar nas lojas e comprar mas nao eh demais. Mesmo ali, as pessoas estao mais interessadas em conversar com voce. Eu vi um menino fazendo massagem nas costas de um senhor e eu fiz sinais que eu tambem queria uma massagem. A parte engracada eh que o senhor ficou me chamando ate eu ir ate la. Quando cheguei la, ele mandou o menino ir embora e me falou em arabe que era a minha vez de fazer uma massagem nele. Eu mandei brasa e fiz uma massagem nele por alguns minutos. Esse ai me pegou! Depois do Souk, nos fomos ate a grande mesquita. Foi provavelmente uma das mais legais que eu fui ate hoje. Ela eh toda construida em marmore ou algo parecido mas eh uma pedra cheia de pequenos buracos parecendo um queijo suico ou uma pedra pome. Uma pedra bege ou marrom claro, incluindo a pracinha no meio da mesquita e tem um jeito bem limpo e pacifico ali dentro. Na entrada principal, como em qualquer outra mesquita, voce tem que tirar os sapatos. Andar naquela pracinha so de meia faz voce sentir como se voce estivesse em um oasis pavimentado e lisinho. Dentro da mesquita, existe uma area que estava fechada mas dizem que a cabeca de Zacarias, pai de Sao Joao Batista (que batizou Jesus) esta enterrada ali. Quando a gente para pra pensar, eh impressionante como a fe crista e mulculmana sao relacionadas! Quando estavamos saindo da mesquita, o sol ja havia ido embora mas o ceu estava impressionante com um azul bem escuro e uma lua crescente bem atras do minarete da mesquita e duas palmeiras. Essa imagem, com as luzes da mesquita deixando tudo meio dourado, so me fez querer ficar ali por horas e horas! No dia seguinte, nos fomos de onibus para Palmyra, onde existem algumas ruinas romanas. Hugh decidiu ir direto para Damascus para tentar conseguir o visto de turista para o Iran. Eu, Jun e Mi continuamos ate Palmyra. No caminho para a estacao rodoviaria eu vi uma cena que achei muito engracada e fantastica! Nos passamos por uma mulher totalmente coberta, ate mesmo a cabeca dela estava totalmente coberta por um veu negro. Ela era magra e tinha um jeito de andar bem legal. Eu olhei ao redor e pude ver muitos homens de olho nela como se ela estivesse de bikini na praia! Mesmo sem eles poderem ver nem um centimetro da pele dela! A area perto de Aleppo eh cheia de plantacoes! Adorei ver isso! Mesmo em uma regiao semi desertica, eles ainda conseguem cultivar tantas coisas. Eu tambem vi um sistema de irrigacao enorme sendo usado nas plantacoes ate sumir no horizonte! Enquanto isso, dentro do onibus, comecamos a conversar com um Sirio chamado Shalan. Ele estava indo para Palmyra visitar o tio e nos convidou para almocar na casa do tio dele. Mi gostou da ideia e aceitou e nos tambem aceitamos. Depois de termos aceitado o almoco, nos continuamos conversando e Shalan mencionou que ja tinha estado na prisao duas vezes. Quanto mais conversavamos, mais deu para ver que ele havia estado na prisao por nao conseguir manter a boca fechada. Mesmo assim, eu continuei pensando comigo mesmo: aqui vamos nos, seguindo um cara que ja foi para a prisao duas vezes! Na rodoviaria, pegamos um taxi ate a casa do tio de Shalon e ele nem deixou a gente pagar. O tio dele nao falava ingles e era bem timido no inicio. Tambem levou algum tempo para conhecermos a esposa dele mas ela era bem simpatica e usava roupas ocidentais dentro de casa. A comida foi servida sobre uma toalha estendida sobre o carpete da sala e todos nos sentamos ao redor com as pernas cruzadas ao redor da comida. A melhor refeicao que ja tive no Oriente Medio. Nos rimos muito, tomamos cha, comemos e comemos e conversamos ate a noite chegar. Eles foram anfitrioes maravilhosos e conversamos muito sobre varios aspectos da cultura Siria. Rania, a tia, nao se cobre mesmo quando ela sai de casa. Eu perguntei para ela se ela sentia algum preconceito por causa disso e ela disse que nao se importa com a opiniao dos outros. Foi quando eu bati palmas para ela. Mesmo assim, eu fiquei com a impressao que mesmo a maioria das mulheres se cobrindo, ela nao tem problemas com isso. Depois das nossas despedidas, eles ligaram para um amigo que eh taxista e ele nos levou ate o albergue que haviamos visto no nosso guia. O albergue, era na verdade um hotel mas que nos cobrou 3 dolares por pessoa. Ao inves de dormirmos nos quartos nos andares de cima que eram mais caros, dormimos em um quarto gigantesco no subsolo mas que estava otimo. Tinha janelas grandes e era bem confortavel. A noite, saimos para jantar e quando passamos em frente a um salao de cabelereiro, uns rapazes dentro comecaram a nos chamar. Mi so falou: La vai o Ralf conversar com o povo da terra! Eles nos convidaram para entrar e tomar cha com eles. So um monte de caras simpaticos a fim de conversar com os estrangeiros e tirar umas fotos com a gente. Agora, quando eu chegar no Brasil ou de volta no Canada, tenho que revelar algumas fotos para enviar para eles. Palmyra esta situada bem no meio do deserto. As ruinas romanas sao fenomenais e ocupam um diametro de uns 2 quilometros. A gente realmente consegue ter uma nocao como a vida deveria de ser ali no tempo antigo. Tem uma praca no meio da cidade com umas colunas muito bonitas ainda em pe, o forum, Muitas colunas ainda em pe, as termas, a capela funeraria, as avenidas, as catacumbas, etc. Interessantissimo! E ai, depois eu senti um frio na espinha por estar em uma cidade morta. Uma cidade que um dia teve tanta vida, amor, ambicao, uma rainha, soldados, amizade e agora eh apenas uma cidade morta e em ruinas. Depois das ruinas, eu decidi ir para Damascus para tentar pegar o meu visto para o Soudan, o que tem sido um problema ate agora. Eu tentei no Canada e a embaixada me disse que eu estava pedindo o visto cedo demais, ja que eu chegaria la so no final do ano. Em Vienna, o cara me disse que so podiam dar o visto para pessoas residentes na Europa. Eu despedi de Jun e Mi, que decidiram ir direto para o Libano e fui para Damascus. Mesmo assim, o nosso plano era de tentar nos encontrarmos novamente em Beirute. Quando eu cheguei em Damascus, eu dividi um taxi com um casal Sirio e eles me deixaram a 2 quarteiroes do albergue. O primeiro cara que eu parei para pedir direcoes, me ofereceu cha e quis tirar foto comigo no celular dele. Por falar em celular, todo mundo aqui tem um. E parece que eh obrigatorio que todo mundo fume. Na Europa eu ja estava pronto para ver os pombos nas pracas fumando de tanta gente que fuma! E aqui no oriente medio eh pior ainda! Quando eu cheguei no albergue Al Rabie, Hugh tambem ja estava la. Foi muito bom nos encontrarmos novamente e acabamos ficando no mesmo quarto com um alemao que se converteu a religiao mulculmana. Agora ele esta tentando encontrar trabalho na Siria. O albergue Al Rabie tem um jardim bem no meio que eh bem legal. Umas plantas tipo trepadeiras cruzando uma trelica que fica a uns 4 ou 5 metros de altura e a medida que as galhas vao crescendo, elas vao caindo formando uma cascata verde caindo em cima do patio. Debaixo dessas galhas e galhas de plantas caindo, existem varias mesas e cadeiras onde os hospedes se sentam para conversar, conhecer um ao outro, ler, tomar cha e naturalmente, fumar. Eu sentei no patio e conheci Catherine, uma mulher Suica bem interessante que tambem se converteu ao islamismo. Ela estava voltando para a Suica naquela noite mas me convidou para jantarmos juntos antes dela viajar. Uma mulher muito interessante que trabalha no escritorio de turismo da Suica e esta tentando publicar um livro de fotografias sobre os tumulos de todas as pessoas sagradas da fe mulculmana. Na manha seguinte, uma sexta feira, eu acordei cedo para ir ate a embaixada do Sudao. Depois de andar alguns quarteiroes, eu perguntei a um policial que estava vistoriando o trafego perto de uns reparos no asfalto pela direcao. Ninguem falava ingles mas devagar eu consegui usar umas palavras em arabe que fui lembrando das minhas 8 aulas de arabe em Toronto. Eh tao legal! O meu vocabulario eh pequeninissimo mas ja ajuda bastante. Bem, alem do mais a professora estava mais interessada em ensinar a escrever do que vocabulario. Mesmo assim, eu consegui que eles entendessem o que eu queria e continuei andando na direcao que eles apontaram. Uns minutinhos depois, o caminhao dos trabalhadores de asfalto passou do meu lado, velho e fedendo a petroleo e eles pararam para me dar uma carona. Foi otimo pois era longe pra caramba! Quando cheguei la, os guardas das outras embaixadas por perto tentavam me explicar algo e deu a entender que a embaixada nao era mais ali. Eu pedi a um deles para escrever tudo em arabe em um pedaco de papel e ele me falou para tomar um taxi. Logo na esquina, eu fui perguntar um policial de que lado que eu deveria de pegar o taxi e ele me disse para pegar uma mini van taxi que era muito mais barato. Ele parou a van pra mim, que me custou 20 centavos, e eles me levaram la para o outro lado da cidade! Chegando la, eu mostrei o papel para um cara que passeava na calcada com a filha de uns 14 anos e como ele nao falava ingles, ele foi me levando ate o local. Encontramos um amigo dele no mesmo calcadao e o amigo falou que era longe pra caramba. Dai, eu falei que poderia tomar um taxi. O cara com a filha me disse que eu deveria de pagar so 2 dolares pela corrida. E fez questao que eu entendesse isso. O motorista de taxi tambem nao falava nada, nada de ingles. Mesmo assim continuamos conversando e ele falou que era de Antakya na Turquia e que morava na Siria por 2 anos. Nos rimos bastante por causa da nossa dificuldade de comunicacao. Quando ele finalmente chegou na embaixada do Sudao, ele nao queria aceitar o pagamento! Eu nunca havia visto isso! Eu acabei convencendo ele a aceitar e dei 3 dolares pra ele. Depois dessa maratona toda, eu descobri que o fim de semana mulculmano eh sexta e sabado e a embaixada estava fechada! Pelo menos para voltar para o albergue, eu consegui fazer isso com uma mini van so. A coisa mais interessante dessa maratona toda, indo de um lado para o outro, eh que eu nao encontrei ninguem que falasse ingles. De algum modo, a comunicacao acaba acontecendo e vai muito mais alem da lingua! Eu voltei para o albergue e decidi passar o final de semana no Libano. Sao so 3 horas. Entao, o resto dessa mensagem que voces vao ler sobre a Syria, aconteceu depois do Libano - 18. He he he! Eu, Jun e Mi fomos para a estacao rodoviaria em Beirute para voltar para a Siria e descobrimos que o onibus iria sair so 3 horas depois. Haviam varios taxis oferecendo a viagem por 4 dolares mais do que o onibus mas Jun e Mi tinham que pechinchar ate a exaustao. Eles sao otimos companheiros de viagem e eu to gostando muito de viajar com eles mas algumas vezes eles exageram. As vezes por 50 centavos por alguma coisa eh caro demais. Quando na verdade a coisa esta baratissima e a vida no Japao e Koreia sao muito mais caros. Agora, minha atitude com eles eh de deixa-los decidir tudo e fazer a pechincha deles e eu fico de lado esperando eles decidirem. Acabamos pegando um taxi com um casal do Iraque que estava indo para Damascus tambem. Na fronteira para voltar para a Syria, tudo correu bem. Dessa vez nos resolvemos ficar em um outro albergue na mesma rua que o Al Rabie mas que incluia cafe da manha pelo mesmo preco. Eu fiquei chateado de nao ter mais o patio que havia no Al Rabie mas acabou sendo melhor. A recepcionista era uma mulher Siria muito simpatica com um jeito bem relaxado e bem humorado. O nosso quarto tinha 3 camas bem altas e o teto tambem era bem alto. Os alisares das portas e das janelas eram decorados e pesados, com um velho espelho em cima da pia no quarto. Fiquei com a impressao de que aquele albergue havia sido um hotel muito bom has uns 100 anos atras. Com o passar do tempo, ele havia sido consertado e pintado sem muitas alteracoes. Havia um toque de classe de dias passados que nao voltam mais para aquele predio. Como uma velha senhora que perdeu a riqueza e a beleza e agora, fica ali parada respirando e olhando o infinito pensando nos dias que ja se foram. E parece que isso acontece com muitos albergues pelo mundo afora. Desde o primeiro dia em Damascus, havia um velhinho na rua do albergue que sempre acenava pra mim e outros mochileiros que passavam em frente a barbearia dele. Ele ja parecia ter uns 70 anos. Bem simpatico! Se ele tinha algum fregues, ele so acenava pra gente. Se ele nao estivesse ocupado, ele saia da barbearia para cumprimentar a gente e conversava um pouco com a gente numa mistura de ingles, arabe e frances. Dai, quando voltei do Libano, resolvi fazer a barba e cortar o meu (pouquinho) de cabelo com ele. Fazer a barba com ele pareceu ser uma das coisas mais perigosas que ja fiz nessa viagem! Eu nunca tinha feito a barba antes com um barbeiro antes. Ele passou a espuma morna no meu rosto e comecou a me barbear. Qualquer pessoa que passasse na rua naquela hora, ele simplesmente tirava a lamina da minha pele para acenar para os mochileiros e outra pessoas na rua. Foi quando eu entendi bem o que os outros fregueses tambem haviam passado quando eu passava em frente a barbearia dele! Depois da barbearia, nos 3 fomos juntos andar pelo souk velho e depois ir na mesquita Umayyad. Outro lugar muito bonito e pacifico com um patio no meio. Um dos imans estava em um canto da mesquita orando e rezando com mais ou menos uns 100 homens sentados no carpete ouvindo o que ele falava. Foi bem legal ver aquela cena, uma sensacao de paz e a voz dele transmitia uma sensacao de muita sabedoria. Em uma outra area da mesquita, havia o tumulo de Saladin, um outro nome importante para os mulculmanos. Ao lado do tumulo, havia uma caixa prateada na parede onde todos vinham e colocavam a cabeca dentro da caixa e rezavam por um minuto mais ou menos. Um velhinho mulculmano me viu olhando para essa cena e me levou ate a caixa prateada para fazer o mesmo. Foi uma sensacao tao boa! Eu pus a cabeca dentro da caixa e ele colocou a mao dele nas minhas costas que pareciam como as maos de um avo me guiando. Eu nao sei se era o cheiro de varios perfumes ou incenso mas quando eu pus a cabeca dentro, eu senti como se estivesse sentindo os melhores aromas do Oriente Medio. Depois de uma semana na Siria, chegou a hora de continuar a viagem. Meu coracao queria que eu fosse de volta para Aleppo. Uma sensacao que parece ser comum a todos os mochileiros que encontrei que haviam passado por la. Eu queria voltar ao beco do cobre e passar o resto das minhas ferias em Aleppo. Ficar ali e ajudar aqueles caras, comer com eles, aprender a lingua dele e tentar achar uma maneira de fazer uma diferenca positiva na vida deles. Eu acho que o que eles tem ali eh tao bonito! Fiquei sonhando em passar o resto do meu tempo ali. Pintar as oficinas deles, tentar fazer algumas coisas diferentes de mosaicos como placas. Mesmo eu achando que eles tem uma "linha de producao comunitaria" que eh fascinante, as oficinas sao sujas, pequenas e cheias de quinquilharias. Colocar um anuncio na entrada do beco escrito "beco do cobre" e fazer o beco mais turistico e mais rendavel para eles enquanto eu me aprofundasse na cultura deles. Me fez entender como alguns turistas mudam a rota deles e acabam se fixando em algum lugar do caminho. Mas o meu sentimento de continuar a viagem ainda eh maior. Mesmo eu tendo me apaixonado com a Siria e o maravilhoso povo Sirio, me pareceu ser o pais mais facil de deixar ate agora. Com os outros, eu sai com a vontade de voltar mas no fundo nao sei se isso vai acontecer. Com a Siria, eu sai com mais certeza. Nao sai dizendo adeus mesmo, foi mais como se eu estivesse dizendo: "ate logo Siria!"
Ralf - Levoyageurpanamericano

Turkey - 16

When the taxi driver let us at the train station in Veliko Tarnovo, he got his fare and his tip was all the coins we had left with us. The train was another old one but was ok. Even though there were 6 beds on the cabin, it was just the 4 of us which made the whole trip nicer. This time I got a nice surprise at the border. It was the second time that my Brazilian passport was better to be used then the Canadian one. When I applied for my visa to Syria, I found out that it would cost me 142 Canadian Dollars. Then, I asked how much it would cost me on my Brazilian passport and I found out it would be only 37 Canadian Dollars. The second surprise was on this trip. Richard, Sarah and Brendan had to pay 15 Euros with their English and Australian passports. When I was going to pay the entry visa, the guy told me that for Canadians it is 45 Euros! So, I asked him, how much it would cost if I entered with my Brazilian Passport. He said that I wouldn’t have to pay anything! Bingo! I just saved almost 4 days accommodation in Istambul!
Sarah and Brendan had been to Istambul before and they already had a reservation to a hostel. So, Richard and I just followed them through the streets of the city until we got to the hostel. While we walked to the hostel, I felt like a child on Christmas day. As if I still couldn't believe that gift was real! I kept walking with the others and looking at every direction and there was just a single frase going through my mind: “Oh my God! I am in Istambul!”, “Oh my God! I am in Istambul!” It felt totally incredible to be in Turkey!
The hostel is just two blocks from the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia. Probably the two most well known sites in Istambul. Just to be in the city felt almost enough, as if I wouldn’t really need to go anywhere in particular to feel that I had discovered the city. Being so close to two mosques, I could hear the call for a prayer that the Imans announce many times a day. The people on the streets, the colours, the food, the smells, all the views almost always framed by the minarets of the mosques. Everything is so amazing! I was sharing a room with Richard and 4 other guys. In the beginning it was the 2 of us, 3 Americans and an Austrian guy. The Austrian guy reminded me of something I heard a few times in Vienna. Some Austrians don't like to say that they speak German. They prefer to say they speak Austrian-German to make the difference between the German in Germany and Austria. It was funny because many times I also say I speak Brazilian Portuguese to differenciate from Portugal.
The day I arrived I went to the Blue Mosque. Unfortunately they close almost half of the mosque just for the muslims praying there. Still, it is totally magical to be there. I have a muslim co-worker who’s a wonderful person. I wish I could trade my place with her for a day. Just so she could be here. I can just imagine how it would be so special for her. I had to take a picture even of the carpet where people pray to send to her.
At night, I went to the main centre of the city called Taksim Square and went walking on a boulevard called Istiklal. I couldn’t believe the amount of people! If Beograd felt busy at nights, it wasn’t anything in comparison to Istambul! So nice to see so many happy faces in the crowd! Friends chatting, families walking together, the bars getting very busy, etc. I had gotten the address of a club that was supposed to be a good one to start the evening and it was actually easy to find it. I got in and it was just great! A small café or bar full! There was a Turkish guy singing all the songs and walking to all small rooms of the bar. One of the rooms was being used as a small dance floor and the other 3 rooms had tables and chairs. Lovely place and wonderful Turkish music! While I was there, a Russian guy that lives in New York started to talk to me. Nice guy and we decided to check out the clubs together. The first one was so loud, we couldn’t stand it. The second one was pretty empty. Finally the third one was just great! Lots of great music and it was packed. Everybody was dancing to the sound of many Turkish songs.I love to see this kind of brotherhood, of a cultural identity. The club had a very good ventilation system but the smoke inside is dreadful! I had no idea I could turn on my "oblivion bottom" to this extreme! So, I just danced away with Tom, the Russian guy and the other hundreds of people. When the place got too hot, there was some this little breath of cold air and some white things dropping us like confetti. It was something like ice flakes! Quite cool!
When I left the club, there wasn't public transportation anymore around 4 AM. A couple on the club told me that there were some mini vans that worked through the night and I had to walk just a block. Another fun experience! Many mini vans were stopping for passengers but no one spoke English. While I said "Blue Mosque" nobody understood until I realized that I should be saying "Sultan Ahmet". The first driver said no but the passengers inside argued with him and then, they all told me to get in. My guess was that the mini van wasn't going there but was passing close to it. So, there I was, inside a mini van blasting some turkish music, surrounded by 9 other guys that didnt' speak any English, laughing away, chatting to each other and coming from who knows were. I was in the middle of the van just marvelled by my surroundings. The van stopped and they kept talking to me in Turkish and pointing to the direction I should go. When I was going to pay, the older man beside me pushed my wallet away and paid for my fare. I said "Tesekur" (thank you) and he said: welcome to Istambul! Then, I walked the rest of the way to the hostel since I recognized where I was. In fact, to say that I walked to the hostel doesn't seem appropriate. I should say that I flew on the magic carpet that kept levitating my feelings since I arrived in Istambul!
The following day, I met Tom again for dinner and then went back to the same club. It was so full that after one hour I couldn't deal with it anymore! When I came out I found the most torrential rain, just like a tropical heavy rain. I decided to at least run to a bar near by and found this alley full of awnings open and huge umbrellas that kind of protected the customers from the rain. It didn't protect the customers totally and it was just like a mist was falling under the umbrellas. There was a great and charismatic singer and two musicians playing lovelly songs. I asked for a beer and sat down relieved to be away from the crowd from the club. The customers sang along and one of the women went on top of one of the tables to dance. Her friends went wild clapping around her and it went on like this for many songs. The last worry they seemed to have was the heavy rain falling. There I was, with my beer watching this amazing culture. All that heavy, heavy rain, just made it more special somehow. I felt like the happiest fly on the wall watching one more night in Istambul!
Sunday was one of the heaviest days I remember ever seeing. I spent the whole day on the covered rooftop bar of the hostel and since they have food, I had lunch and dinner there too. I took the day to read a bit, check the internet, downloaded some pictures, chatted with other travellers and didn't dare going out. I had already gotten all drenched the night before.
On Monday, Sarah and Brendan came back from Cappadocia after 3 days and they were totally in love with it. Their pictures were so nice that I made up my mind about spending some time there after Istambul. My days in Istambul were quite lazy in a way. I guess the city is so big that I knew I couldn't see everything in a week, so I just walked a lot, saw a few places, etc. If there was a city that I really felt I will come back to, it was Istambul. I took the ferry with Richard across the Bosphorous to go to the Asian side of Istambul, went to the Galata Tower, etc. From the tower, we had a beautiful view of the city and the harbour. The food was also amazing! So many different things to try, kebabs, meat pancaques, fish sandwiches on the harbour and so many other things! In almost every corner you can also get a glass of freshly squeezed pomegranate juice or orange juice and so many others!
Since arriving in Istambul I started to look for a Lonely Planet book for the Middle East since I didn't want to carry one from Canada. It was a difficult task and I was feeling really insecure about going to Syria without one. I didn't have a guide for Turkey either but in Istambul I was fine since other travellers around had a guide. I needed my own to plan my next moves, decide where to go next, etc. Without the guide, I was feeling really insecure. Finally I got it! It was such a relief! Thank God! The one I got, included Turkey, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Egypt and Israel.
David Franklin, who put me in touch with Siggi in Iceland, also put me in touch with a Turkish "person" called Zeynep. We exchanged a few emails and than arranged to meet for dinner. It was a funny encounter! For some reason, I thought Zeynep was a man and she thought I would be much older. Mind you, she couldn't believe I am 44. It is nice actually, I guess they don't expect to see many backpackers my age and most people seem to be shocked by my age. It is a nice compliment. I do feel as if I was 25! LOL!
Zeynep was another jewel on this trip! An amazing host for the evening and extremelly generous. A fun girl, very smart and I had a great evening! First we had a beer in one of the popular places in Istiklal Caddesi, one of the main boulevards in downtown. Then, we went to a very nice restaurant for dinner and I had one of the best meals I've had in this trip! Grilled chicken that came with a dish of lentils, spinach and cheese that tasted a little bit like feta cheese. Totally fantastic! Then, Zeynep saved the best for last! She took me to the top of a hotel in the centre of Istambul where we drank Raki, a national liquor that tastes like anis a bit, while seeing the most spetacular view. Down there, the lights of Istambul, with its lights, the beautiful harbour with it's bridges and boats passing by, the buzz of a big city with it's traffic moving everywhere. It all, surrounded by the lit minarets and silhuets of many and many mosques watching over Istambul.
After a whole week in Istambul, I took a 12 hour bus ride to Goreme, in the middle of Cappadocia. That's when I found out that there are no toilettes on all buses in Turkey! Mind you, they do stop every couple of hours. The stops are very nice and similar to the nice ones we find in Brazil. There's a clean toilet, a nice restaurant with good food, some stands to buy souvenirs, etc. Very nice! I chatted a lot with a nice American couple that was backpacking through Europe and Turkey after his retirement. There was also an Israeli couple behind me but I didn't talk much with them on the bus.
When the bus arrived in Goreme, we were all fascinated by the most strange, lunar and fascinating landscape! I thought the American couple was getting off too and just when I was outside with my backpack and the bus was leaving, that I realized that they were going on! I waved at them inside the bus but it felt so unfinished! Not to properly say bye! The bus left and I looked around. It was really like if we had just arrived in Bedrock, the city where the Flinstones live in the cartoon! I found out later that there is a hostel and a bar in town called Flinstones! It couldn't be more appropriate! Goreme is surrounded by valleys of a softer kind of rock that have been suffering the actions of the wind, rain, etc and the landscape is incredible! Many mushroom and cone shapped huge rocks in the valley in Goreme and surroundings. Because the kind of rock is softer, people started to carve on them until they had rooms inside the rocks. What you get now, is many houses that are almost entirelly built inside the rocks. Rooms that a man made caves! I had booked a hostel from Istambul based on the information that Sarah and Brendan gave me and the hostel emailed me telling me that they would come and pick me up at the bus station. I called from the information office for free and in 5 minutes there was a nice guy to pick me up. The hostel is on top of the hill and my room was a six bedroom inside one of the caves! Really cool!
After I got my things in the room and decided to go on a hike with some japanese people that were at the hostel. Cool people! Actually most people in the hostel were japanese anyway. We went on a very nice hike of an area called Rose Valley. The sunset wasn't an amazing one but just the hike through that landscape was just beyond words! The movie Star Wars was also partly filmed around Goreme because of it's lunar landscape. After we came back to the hostel, I went to the very top of the hill to have a look at the city in the valley bellow me. What an interesting place! I started to laugh looking down at the city with it's mushroom and cone shapped houses with windows with lights turned on inside. I felt as if any moment I would see the whole Flinstones gang passing by (with Dino of course!) or Fred screaming: Viiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilllllllllllmmmmmmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!
The japanese are the kind that wake up early in the morning, do everything and by 8 or 9 they are ready to bed. So, I went downhill to explore the city on my own and decided to check the Flinstones bar. On my way there, the Israeli couple saw me and invited me to join them. A lovelly couple that was travelling together to celebrate 3 years together. We had a great time and they were so important for me! I guess I had some prejudisms against Israel after they bombed Lebanon, which I thought was so awful! Through them, I was able to at least realize it is time to "revaluate my prejudisms". We had such a honest conversation! It was really good for me! This trip is definetelly becoming like a history of mankind for me in the most wonderful way!
The second day in Goreme, I decided to take a guided tour for the whole day to visit some places outside the town. It was a very inexpensive tour that also included lunch. First we went to an underground city. They are tunnels built by the locals hundreds and hundreds of years ago and were used for the whole population to hide from enemies and wars. They are supposed to be miles and miles of underground tunnels that go about 8 floors bellow ground. I wasn't very sure if I would be able to do this part of the tour. Sarah and Brendan told me and showed me some pictures where in some parts you have to duck or it is so narrow that you cannot fit two people beside each other. I always knew that I have a mild claustrofobia but since I "passed the test" going to the salt mines in Krakow, I decided to give it a try. Bad mistake! I made sure I was the last one of our group to go down. This way, I made sure there was some extra space between me and them and nobody behind me. We went down about two floors and I could feel I was getting a bit nervous but I could still control it. We got to one of the caves and while our guide was explaining things, another group came over and started to wait on the cave beside us and then I saw another group coming from the floor bellow. Just like a bunch of ants inside an ant hill. Something inside me just turned! I started to panic realizing that I could not leave that space fast, that even if I tried I couldn't because there were other people in front of me! One of the ugliest feelings I felt until now! I was sweating and shaking and felt suffocating. Just awful! Our group was already going down, so I just asked the guide waiting for us to vacate the cave if she could wait just one minute for me to calm down. She asked me if I wanted to go up and I said yes. She even offered to help me as she saw my panic. As soon as she said it was easy to leave and pointed to a direction I just left. To help my panic, as I walkd up, I remembered our guide telling us to stick to the group because the caves are so huge that people have gotten lost inside them! Thankfully I found my way out and sat on a bench near by, shaking still and trying to dry my sweat and almost crying in happiness to see the sun and feel the fresh air again! While I sat at the bench, I realized I wasn't the only one. I saw many tourists coming out of the caves shaking, sweating or with the most glorious face when they saw day light again. It is exactly like inside a huge anthill. I guess I was really panicking more than the other because few people came to me later to find out if I was alright.
The rest of the tour was lovelly! I went for a hike in a beautiful valley and walked for a while beside a river surrounded by big rock cliffs and by trees loosing their leaves because the autumm was also arriving in Turkey. The trees covered with yellow leafs made the whole place look more beautiful! Then, for lunch, we sat on tables on top of a 8 feet wide island in the river surrounded by a Turkish landscape that could definetelly be in Canada as well. At the end of the tour, we went to a monastery that was also carved inside the rocks. Huge place of many, many storeys, carved on a very slopped hill. So, it looked like this huge cone full of holes like a swiss cheese and each hole was a window!
On my last day in Cappadocia, I met Lior and Joel on the streets and found out that they had gotten engaged. The story about how everything happened was really touching! Joel found out that he couldn't buy roses in Goreme. He waited until Lior took a nap in the afternoon and took a cab to another city near by to buy roses for her. On the morning that I saw them, they had just gotten engaged. Joel called Lior around 5:45 AM and told her that the alarm was going to ring in 15 minutes, she had to get up and follow the roses. Then, he left the room and walked up the hill leaving a trail of roses on the way. When he got to the top of the hill (just above my hostel, where I had seen the sunset), he put a cloth on the ground and brought all the gadgets to make tea for them. She came 15 minutes behind him and according to her, went up hill balling her eyes out. When she got to the top of the hill, there were a few other tourists there who wanted to watch the sunrise as well. Joel told them to give him some space for something really special he was doing. When Lior came over, carrying the roses, Joel asked her to marry him.
They were such a great couple! In Istambul I had seem some ceramic bows that I really liked but there was no way I would carry it all the way to South Africa! Since I found the same kind in Goreme, I bought one for them for their engagement. I can't have it in Toronto but I am happy to know that I got a bow for a house in Israel full of love.
That last day in Cappadocia was a very social one! I had breakfast at the hostel sharing a table with a retired couple from Sweden. They had sold their house in Stockholm and bought a 30 feet sailing boat and had been living on the ocean around Europe for 2 and half years. Just the two of them! Very nice couple in their early 60's. I spent some time chatting with an Iranian guy that is a refugee and is living in Turkey awaiting for the ok from the UN to tell him which country is accepting his request for asilum. Very nice guy! If he comes to Canada, I hope to meet him there. After walking for a while, I met the American couple from the bus from Istambul. It was so nice to see them again! Kim and Reggie were semi retired and just travelling for a few months around Turkey. The tree of us were very glad to meet to have a beer together and then, have a real goodbye before we went our separate ways. Then, at night, just before I boarded another bus to Antakya, at the border with Syria, I had dinner with Lior and joel. They were going to Istambul, the swedish couple going to a city called Konya and the American couple to Antalia. The Iranian guy stayed there, keeping working on a turkish stand, stuck in a country that is just a long stop before he can start his life somewhere else.

Bulgaria - 15

I couldn't really sleep much on the train to Sofia. Maybe the "tlac tlac tlac" of the old train was too much, maybe I was too worried about having things stolen. Specially when I realized that the guy on the cabin beside mine went inside and locked his cabin with a chain inside. Just when I finally fell asleep, we got to the border and the crossing gards for Serbia knocked on my door, saying "passport control". Two guys dressed up in uniform wıth a very official face. I got a stamp on my passport and the train went to the next stop, the Bulgarian passport control. Same thing, same seriousness and uniforms. The train station in Sofia is a big building that looks like it could be an airport. A massive and new building that could also use some care. It looks as if it was built with the best intentions but was left there without anybody paying attention to it. Wıth the map that Mladen gave me, it was very easy to find the hostel. I took a streetcar and in 10 minutes I was at the hostel. A very nice place, with a huge lounge. The area to watch tv and movies is covered wıth a bunch of turkish carpets and pillows and we can not enter with shoes. Three internet computers 24 hours, etc. Also, breakfast and a small dinner included. All for 24 Levas, or 17 dollars. The area where I was staying was ok but didn't really give me the idea that Sofia would offer much as a touristic city. I walked around for a while but didn't get too excited by the city. At night, I found the name of a club that seemed to have good music. I got there and it was pretty empty. I approached a group that was chatting to ask about a place to go dancing. One of them said that they were going soon to another club that would have more dancing. Then, he asked if I wanted to join them. He was the only one that spoke english but naturally I said yes. The other club was also a bit empty but it was fun. The music playing there was Serbian, Bulgarian, Greek and Turkish. Very interesting! I just came back to the hostel around 5 Am. It has been nice to be in strange cities and feel totally comfortable to walk alone in the middle of the night. I wish every country could be like this. When I woke up, I met an italian guy called Rıccardo, from Milan that was just arriving. We chatted for a while and spent the rest of the day together getting to know Sofia. The art gallery, the nice cafe behind the gallery that looked like a cafe in Paris, the area with sofisticated shops, etc. Then, he went out to meet a Bulgarian girl that he had met in Italy and I went on my own to check some orthodox churches. The big orthodox church in Sofia called Aleksandar Nevski, had a flee market just outside. The interesting thing is that they were selling a bunch of Nazi things, like binoculars, cigarrete holders, lighters, compasses, etc. All with the swastika symbol and some of them even with the dates like 1938, etc. On my way to the hostel, I passed by a small russian church. Very charming church surrounded by a nice park and some willow trees that waved their lengthly branches sweeping the sides of the church. When I got inside, there was a woman kneeling on the floor praying. While I walked around seeing the icons and the architecture of the church, the orthodox priest came by. The woman kneeling on the floor got up and walked sobbing towards the priest. He gave her a warm hug full of protection and assurance. She buried her face on his arms and kept sobbing. There was so much despair and pain in her movements! It was such a moving scene that I had to stop on the park behind the church until my tears dried too. I just wished that the priest would succeed in giving her some confort and that God would take away her pain. In the evenıng, Riccardo came back to the hostel and invited me to join him for dinner and then go to a club where he was going to meet the Bulgarian friend again. He said that she was studying portuguese and was curious to meet me. We had dinner in a nice place and then, went to the club. Ana, the Bulgarian girl was amazing! She has never been to any portuguese speaking country but spoke portuguese so fluently that I would never have said that her first language wasn't portuguese! The band though, was a punk rock band and Riccardo and I didn't really like it. So, after half hour of deaffening music and smoke chocking our lungs and eyes, we left. I have a Bulgarıan frıend ın Toronto called Ivan and I wrote to hım sayıng that I was goıng to go to Sofıa. I asked hım for tıps on places to vısıt ın Sofıa and he also put me ın touch wıth a frıend of hıs who lıves ın Sofıa. On Sunday, I got in touch hıs frıend Rado. He had just come back from Italy with an italian friend of his and the 3 of us went out for dinner. I had a delicious cold soup called tarator made of yogourt, dill, cucumbers, garlic, etc. Really nice! After the dınner, we went out for drinks in a wonderful bar, called Budha Bar. Great ambiance, music, etc. It looked more like a bar that you would find in New York. A very stylısh lounge. It was great to meet Rado and his friend Ruggerıo. While I was at the hostel in Sofia, I looked at a guide book about Bulgaria and saw an interesting picture of a city called Veliko Tarnovo. Right in the middle of the country, it used to be the capital of the kingdom of Bulgaria between 1185 and 1396. The cıty has a population of 70.000 people and it is a university city. Most of the city is up on the hills around the Yantra river and the city seemed really special. Since the train from Bucarest to Istambul passes by Veliko Tarnovo, I thought it would be great to stop there just for a day and check out the city. The following day, I had lunch and then, got on a very modern bus for a 3 hour ride to Veliko Tarnovo. All passengers were sitting at the front, there was a couple sitting alone in the middle and I sat on the last row of the bus. I was a bit tired and took a nap on the bus. When I woke up, I pretty much had my own view of a porn movie. The couple in the middle of the bus were doing it right there! I couldn't believe how daring they were! When we got to Veliko Tarnovo, they started to talk to me and gave me all the info on how to get to the hostel. I felt like saying: Please send me a post card in 9 months and let me know how life is! The guy at the hostel was excelent! He showed me the hostel, gave me a map of the city and told me that dinner would be ready in about 2 hours. Breakfast, accomodation and dinner (with a glass of beer) for 20 Leva, or 14 dollars. The hostel is in a quiet area of the the city and it is a lovely place. Nice wooden floors, a big patio with lounge chairs, a barbeque area, gardens, etc. The weather was a mountain like climate. We were using extra socks, extra blankets, extra sweathers, touques, etc. There wasn't a fireplace but the whole decoration of the hostel would give you the impression that there was one around. The need for extra clothıng was at nıght only. The days, on the other hand, were gıfted wıth wonderful sunny skyes wıth a very deep blue. I got a beer and sat by myself on the patio absorbing the new surroundings. That's when I realized that I did need to come to a place like Veliko Tarnovo to fall in love also with Bulgaria. I do feel that I fell in love with every single country I passed by. This hadn't happened with Bulgaria yet. It would have been a shame to leave Bulgaria with the impression it was just an ok country. Veliko Tarnovo gave me that! I sat on the rocking love seat in the patio and felt transported to Ouro Preto or to Tiradentes. Two colonial cities in my state in Brazil called Minas Gerais. They are cities where the mountains and the fresh air cultivate the personality of it's residents and they fill your soul with beauty and a wonderful laziness. As the sun went down, I could hear the sounds of the evening arriving. In that place, the sounds were very distinct. The sounds dıdn't come one on top of the other, never overlappıng each other. It was a place of such a slow motion that every sound came at it's own time. Each sound had it's own personality. While the sky was bringing in the night, I could hear the sounds of Veliko Tarnovo with their own character. The two friends walking their bikes up hill chattıng away, the dog barking in some distant house, the 3 female friends laughing (and I almost could tell their age by their laughter!), the little child crying, the car starting it's engine. Just amazing to be in a place where the sounds didn't overlap! Each at it's own time. The fresh air started to get mixed up with the nicest smell of wood burning. Time for people to get their dinner ready, the smoke of the wood getting mixed with the spices of Bulgaria. It all felt like the most intense and vibrant dance! A slow motion dance of life bringing me the aromas and the sounds of a Bulgaria that I needed to meet! The stars slowly appeared in the sky, the towers of the churches got lit and then Asen, the owner of the hostel came over to say that dinner was ready. When I got down to the dining room, all the plates were ready for us. I sat down at the table with Richard from England, Vincent from England, Sarah and Brendon from Australia and 4 Canadians. We had a nice omelete and got to know each other. Very nice people! After a few hours though, Richard, myself and Vincent started to feel hungry and went out for a second dinner. The restaurant that Asen had recommended had great food!The following morning the 4 canadians left for Bucarest, Vıncent was leavıng for Sofıa and the rest of us went to the train station to buy our tickets together to go to Istambul. This way, we would be more relaxed about travelling together without so much worries on the train. After buying the tickets, we went for an amazing lunch of only Bulgarian meals, including Tarator agaın. While Sarah and Brendan went out to buy pottery, Richard and I took off to walk on the city. Great views of the city, the fortress and the sunset.Our train to Istambul was going to take about 15 hours and was leaving Veliko Tarnovo around 7 PM. When I woke up on my second and last day in Veliko Tarnovo, I couldn't find the other 3. Probably doing their last explorations of the city. I started to talk to Jan, a Dutch guy that was also planning to go to the huge fortress near the hostel and overlooks the cıty. We took off and it was quite a nice hike. It is a huge fortress and it is probably the one that I've seen until now that really gives you a feeling of how it would be to live in that time. Quite interesting! While we were walking by, we found the old skin of a 5 feet snake! We were able to lift the whole waffery skin for a picture! Gladdly, we didn't find the owner of the skin in her new "dress"!After the hike around the fortress, Jan and I went down to the same restaurant that Asen had recommended before. In fact, the food of the restaurant was so good that we all felt like we should stay another week just to try all the amazing meals they had in that restaurant. When we got there, Sarah and Brendon were also having their last meal there too. We just had time to finish our meals, run to the hostel, grab our backpacks and share a cab to the train station. Leaving the hostel, it felt dıfferent. The couple that owns the place make you feel so confortable. It was like living the house of a good friend, a loving relative. What Sofıa hadn't accomplıshed, the cupido of Veliko Tarnovo did. Wıth ıt's trıck, I left that cıty ın love wıth Bulgarıa as well. Ralf - Levoyageurpanamerıcano
Eu nao consegui dormir muito bem no trem para Sofia. Talvez o "tlac tlac tlac" do velho trem tivesse sido demais, talvez eu estivesse preocupado demais de ser roubado no trem. Especialmente quando eu vi que o cara da cabine ao lado da minha entrou na dele e trancou a porta por dentro com cadeado. Quando eu finalmente consegui dormir, o trem chegou na fronteira e os guardas da fronteira da Serbia bateram na minha porta dizendo "controle de passaporte". Doıs caras uniformizados com uma cara bem official. Ganhei o carimbo on passaparte e dai o trem foi ate a proxima fronteira, dessa vez da Bulgaria. Mesma coisa, mesma seriedade e uniformes. A estacao de trens de Sofia eh um predio grande que parece mais um aeroporto. Um predio enorme e novo que tambem poderia ter um pouco de mais cuidado. Parece um predio que foı construido com as melhores intencoes mas foi esquecido la sem ninguem prestar atencao nele. Com o mapa que Mladen havia me dado, foi bem facil de achar o albergue. Eu peguei um bonde e em 10 minutos eu estava no albergue. Um lugar bem legal, com uma sala enorme. Uma area de televisao e videos coberta com tapetes turcos e almofadas onde nao podiamos entrar de sapatos. Tres computadores com internet 24 horas, etc. Tambem, cafe da manha e um pequeno jantar incluidos. Tudo por 24 levas, ou maıs ou menos uns 24 Reais. A area onde eu estava ficando era tranquıla mas nao tinha nada de muito interessante e que me desse a sensacao de que Sofia era uma cidade turistica. Eu andei por perto do albergue mas nao me interessei muito pela cıdade. A noite, eu descobri o nome de um bar que parecia ter musica legal tocando e fui pra la. Cheguei la e o bar estava bem vazio. Vi uns 5 amigos conversando e cheguei perto deles para saber se eles conheciam algum outro bar mais ınteressante. Um deles, o unico que falava ingles, falou que eles estava indo para um lugar mais interessante e me convidou para ir com eles. Eu, naturalmente aceitei. O proximo bar tambem estava bem vazio mas a musica era bem mais ınteressante. Uma mistura de musicas Serbias, Bulgaras, Gregas e Turcas. Muito legal! Eu acabei voltando para o albergue por volta de 5 da manha. Eu adoro estar em cidades estranhas e me sentir totalmente confortavel andando sozinho no meio da noite. Eu gostaria que todos os paises fossem assim. Quando acordei, eu conheci um italiano chamado Riccardo de Milao que estava acabando de chegar. Conversamos um pouco e acabamos passando o resto do dia juntos conhecendo Sofia. A galeria de arte, o cafe atras da galeria que parecia mais um cafe em Paris, a area das lojas caras da cıdade, etc. Mais tarde, Riccardo foi se encontrar com uma menina Bulgara que ele havıa conhecido na Italia e eu continuei explorando a cidade sozinho e fui conhecer as igrejas orthodoxas. Do lado de fora da maior igreja orthodoxa de Sofia chamada Aleksandar Nevski, tinha uma feira de antiguidades acontecendo. O interessante eh que eles estavam vendendo um montao de coisas nazistas. Binoculos, Cigarrilhas, bussolas, isqueiros, etc. Todos com o simbolo nazista da swastica e ate mesmo com datas de 1938, etc. No caminho de volta para o albergue, eu passei em frente a uma pequena igreja russa. Uma igreja bem simpatica e com um parque bem bonito em volta. Haviam uns salgueiros balancando ao vento com umas galhas bem longas e flexiveis que com o vento pareciam que fıcavam varrendo as paredes da igreja. Quando eu entrei na igreja, havıa uma mulher ajoelhada no chao rezando. Enquanto eu andava dentro da igreja vendo a arquitetura e as imagens, o padre orthodoxo apareceu. A mulher ajoelhada levantou do chao e foi em direcao ao padre chorando e solucando. Ele deu um grande abraco nela cheio de protecao e conforto. Ela enterrou o rosto dela nos bracos dele e contınuou solucando. Havia tanto desespero e dor nos movimentos dela! Foi uma cena tao comovente que eu tive que parar no parque atras da igreja ate as minhas lagrimas secarem tambem. Eu fiquei ali desejando que o padre conseguisse dar algum conforto a ela e que Deus pudesse sanar a dor dela. A tarde, Riccardo voltou para o albergue e me convidou para jantar com ele e depois ir para um bar onde ele iria se encontrar de novo com a amiga Bulgara. Ele disse que ela estava estudando portugues e que ela estava curiosa para me conhecer. Nos jantamos em um restaurante bem legal e depois fomos para o bar. Ana, a moca bulgara era impressionante! Ela nunca morou em nenhum pais que fala portugues mas fala tao fluentemente que eu nunca iria imaginar que a primeira lingua dela nao era portugues! A banda que tava tocando era uma banda de rock punk e eu e Riccardo nao curtimos muito. Dai, depoıs de meia hora de musica ensurdecedora e fumaca de cigarro sufocando os nossos olhos e pulmoes, nos saimos. Eu tenho um amigo Bulgaro em Toronto chamado Ivan e eu havia escrito para ele dizendo que iria passar por Sofia. Eu pedi a ele para me dar algumas dicas sobre a cidade, lugares para visitar e ele me colocou em contato com um amigo dele que mora em Sofia. No domingo, eu entrei em contato com o amigo dele chamado Rado. Ele havia acabado de voltar da Italia com um amigo dele e nos 3 saimos juntos para jantar. Eu provei uma sopa fria deliciosa chamada Tarator feita de iogurte, dıll (parece que em portugues eh chamado de endro ou aneto), alho, pepıno, etc. Muito boa! Depois do jantar, nos fomos beber algo em um bar bem interessante chamado Budha Bar. Um ambiente bem legal, com uma musica massa, etc. Parecia mais como um bar que voce iria encontrar em Nova York. Um lugar bem "estiloso". E foi muito legal conhecer Rado e o amigo dele chamado Ruggerio. Enquanto eu estava no albergue em Sofia, eu estava lendo um guia sobre a Bulgaria e vi uma foto bem bonita de um lugar chamado Veliko Tarnovo. Bem no meio do pais, a cidade havia sido a capital do reino da Bulgaria entre 1185 e 1396. A cidade tem uma populacao de 70.000 habitantes e eh uma cidade universitaria. Grande parte da cidade esta nas encostas dos morros ao redor do rio Yantra e a cidade pareceu ser bem especial. Descobri tambem que o trem que vinha de Bucareste indo para Istambul passava por la. Dai resolvi parar la por um e conhecer a cidade. No dia seguinte, eu almocei e depois, peguei um onibus bem moderno para fazer a viagem de 3 horas ate Veliko Tarnovo. Todos os passageiros estavam sentados mais na frente, havia um casal sentado no meio sozinhos e eu no ultimo assento do onibus sozinho. Eu estava um pouco cansado e acabei dando uma cochilada no onibus. Quando acordei, eu praticamente tive um show porno na minha frente! O casal sentado no meio estava mandando ver ali mesmo! Eu nao acreditei como eles podiam ser tao cara de pau! Quando chegamos em Veliko Tarnovo, eles comecaram a conversar comigo e me deram toda a informacao de como chegar no albergue. Eu fiquei com vontade de dizer: Por favor me mandem um postal daqui a nove meses me dizendo como anda a vida de voces!

O dono do albergue era excelente! Me mostrou o albergue, me deu um mapa da cidade e me disse que o jantar estaria pronto em duas horas. Cafe da manha, cama no dormitorio para 8 pessoas e um pequeno jantar (com uma cerveja) por 20 leva, ou 20 Reais. O albergue esta em area mais tranquila da cidade e eh um lugar muıto legal. Pıso novo de madeira, um patio grandao com cadeiras e um balanco para duas pessoas, area de churrasco, jardım, etc. O clima era de montanha. Estavamos usando meias extras, cobertores extras, varias blusas, toucas, etc. Nao havia uma lareira no albergue mas a decoracao dava a impressao que havia uma ali. A necessidade de roupa extra era somente a noite. Os dias, por outro lado, se apresentaram com um ceu maravilhosamente ensolarados com um azul bem profundo. Eu peguei uma cerveja e fui sentar na cadeira de balanco sozinho para absorver um pouco do novo ambıente. Foi quando em compreendi que eu necessitava de ter vindo para um lugar como Veliko Tarnovo para me apaixonar tambem com a Bulgaria. Eu sinto que me apaixonei com todos os paises que ja passei. O mesmo ainda nao havai acontecido com a Bulgaria. Seria uma pena sair da Bulgaria com a impressao de que la era apenas um pais ok, sem nada de especial. Veliko Tarnovo me deu ısso!Eu sentei na cadeira de balanco no patio e me senti transportado para Ouro Preto ou Tiradentes. (observacao: essa proxıma parte foı escrıta para os canadenses entenderem melhor sobre essas duas cıdades). Duas cidades coloniais no meu estado no Brasil chamado Minas Gerais. Sao duas cidades onde as montanhas e o ar puro cultivam a personalidade dos seus residentes e enchem a alma com beleza e uma preguica maravilhosa.Quando o sol foı desaparecendo, eu pudia ouvir os sons da noite chegando. Naquele lugar, os sons eram bem distintos. Os sons nao vinham um em cima do outro, sem se misturarem. Um lugar tao tranquilo que cada som tinha seu proprio tempo. Cada som com sua personalidade propria. Enquanto o ceu trazia a noite, eu podia escutar os sons de Veliko Tarnovo com suas proprias caracteristicas. Os dois amigos passando atras do muro do albergue empurrando suas bicicletas morro acima e conversando, um cachorro latindo em alguma casa mais distante, as 3 amigas passando e rindo (e eu quase conseguia saber a idade delas pela risada!), a crianca chorando, o carro sendo ligado. Incrivel estar em um lugar onde os sons nao se misturavam! Cada um com o seu tempo proprio. O ar puro comecou a se misturar com um cheiro delicioso de lenha queimada. Hora das pessoas comecarem o jantar, o cheiro da lenha se misturando com os temperos da Bulgaria. Parecıa a mais intensa e vibrante danca. Uma danca lenta da vida me trazendo os aromas e os sons da Bulgaria que eu precisava conhecer.
As estrelas comecaram a aparecer no ceu, as torres das igrejas foram se acendendo e ai, Asen, o dono da pousada apareceu para dizer que o jantar estava pronto. Quando eu cheguei na sala de jantar, todos os pratos ja estavam servidos para nos. Eu sentei a mesa com Richard da Inglaterra, Vincent tambem da Inglaterra, Sarah e Brendon da Australia e 4 Canadenses. O jantar foi uma omelete bem gostosa e tivemos a chance de nos conhecermos melhor. Otimas pessoas! Algumas horas depois, eu, Richard e Vincent estavamos com fome novamente e saimos para um segundo jantar. O restaurante que Asen havıa recomendado tinha uma comida muito boa!No dia seguinte os 4 canadenses viajaram para Bucarest, Vincent estava indo para Sofia e eu e o resto fomos para a estacao ferroviaria comprar as nossas passagens para viajarmos juntos para Istambul. Dessa maneira, iriamos viajar mais tranquilos dividindo uma cabine sem muita preocupacao dentro do trem. Depois de comprarmos as passagens, nos fomos no mesmo restaurante e almocamos maravilhosamente bem comendo somente pratos tipicos, incluindo tarator novamente. Enquanto Sarah e Brendon foram comprar ceramicas, eu e Richard fomos andar pela cidade. Vistas otimas da cidade e do forte e do por do sol.

O nosso trem para Istambul iria levar umas 15 horas e estava saindo de Veliko Tarnovo por volta de 7 da noite. Quando acordei no meu segundo e ultimo dia em Veliko Tarnovo (adoro esse nome!), eu nao achei os outros 3. Provavelmente explorando a cidade pela ultima vez. Eu comecei a conversar com Jan, um holandes que tambem estava planejando ir visitar o forte que fica perto do albergue e de onde se ve bastante da cidade. Saimos juntos e fizemos uma boa trilha. O forte eh enorme e ate agora eu acho que foi o forte que mais me mostrou como deveria de ser a vida naqueles tempos. Bem interessante! Enquanto andavamos por la, encontramos a pele velha de uma cobra de um metro e meio mais ou menos! Conseguimos levantar aquela pele bem fragil para uma foto! Por sorte, nao encontramos a dona da pele com o “vestido novo” dela!
Depois da caminhada na area do forte, eu e Jan fomos novamente no mesmo restaurante que Asen havia recomendado. Alias, a comida la era tao boa que todos nos ficamos com vontade de ficar ali por mais uma semana so para experimentar todos os pratos maravilhosos que eles tinham no restaurante. Quando chegamos la, Sarah e Brendon tambem estavam la comendo a ultima refeicao la tambem. So deu tempo de comermos, correr para o albergue, pegar as nossas mochilas e dividir um taxi ate a estacao. Quatro passageiros, quatro mochilas que valiam como quatro passageiros e o motorista em um carro pequeno! Saindo do albergue, foi uma sensacao diferente. Foi como sair da casa de um bom amigo, de um parente querido. O que Sofia nao conseguiu fazer, o cupıdo de Veliko Tarnovo conseguiu. Com o truque dele, eu sai daquela cidade apaixonado tambem com a Bulgaria. Ralf - Levoyageurpanamerıcano

Serbia - 14

The train to Beograd was leaving at 1 PM from Budapeste. I woke up early, walked around the city for the last time, had lunch and went to the train station. It was only me and another guy on the cabin for 6 people. This time it was a newer train car (Austrian, as Zoran, the other guy on the cabin said) and the seats were great! They slid all the way down on both sides so, we basically ended up with two beds on the cabin! Zoran, was another great travel companion. A very smart 24 year old guy that knew so much about the history of the former Yugoslavia and the history of the new countries. As he put it: Nobody in the former Yugoslavian countries thinks they were born and will die in the same country. It has changed so much that people really have this felling that things will keep changing. As an example, he cited himself. He was born in Yugoslavia, grew up in Serbia and Montenegro and now he lives in Serbia, since Montenegro is a separate country now. It was great to talk to him. It felt as a lesson in history and geography of the country I was arriving in a few hours! An amazing and smart professor. He wrote down places I should see, gave me some tips on Beograd and since his bus was close to the hostel where I was going to stay, he walked me to the door! It was very nice because even thought the hostel is a very good location, the train station is not. It wouldn't be so easy to find the hostel around 10 PM.The hostel is called the 3 black catz but the cats are gone already. It is a small apartment with two beddroms that can accomodate 10 people in total. It is on the fifth floor of a dilapidated building that is right in the centre of Beograd. Totally convenient. Mladen, the owner is a very cool guy. Very soft spoken and he spends the whole day glued to his girlfriend, Drajna. Once, I woke up and she was seated on his lap sleeping while he read. As soon as I saw the location, talked a bit with Mladen and felt the athmosphere of the hostel, I knew I wasn't going to stay only two days as I planned. I took a shower and got my dirty clothes for laundry. Then, Mladen offered me a beer and I sat down at the table with the other guests. Ana from Australia, Franz from Holland, Pasha from Belarus and 2 girls and 2 guys from Spain that are travelling together. Mladen put some great music playing, turned off the light above the table and put the lights near a strobe globe turning and we got our own little discoteque. Nobody danced but we just chatted around in that great ambience with great music. The next day, I woke up, went to the Canadian Embassy to vote and then found out that I should have gone to the embassy a week before. Shame! Specialy because I could have gone to any other Canadian embassy on the previous capitals that I passed by. Then, I went to the train station to get information about the train to Bulgaria. On my way, I passed by some buildings that had been bombed by the NATO and the US in 1999 because of internal problems with Kosovo. It is very eerie and sad when you see those buidings all broken into pieces standing there. Showing us the devastation that a war, a bomb can do. Very, very sad!
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At night, I was on the computer when Franz, invited me to go for dinner with him. Ana and Pasha joined in. Pasha is actually studying Serbian and doing a course in tourism. This way, we ended up having a guide for the night. We left the hostel and the streets around were bubbling with people strolling by, in cafes, in bars, etc. Beograd seems to have a very, very busy night life. We walked just three blocks from our hostel and found ourselves in another completely different place. A street of cobblestones, with many bars and restaurants that were more calmer, more romantic, in a part called the Bohemian Quartier. Many musicians playing in the restaurants. It was as if suddenly, we had just been transported to Quebec City or Ouro Preto! We sat down to drink a few beers and listen to the four musicians playing their music. Behind them, the wall of a buiding with it's street signs in Cyrillic and a bit of a dilapidated building. Not rundown, not falling down. Actually, more interesting. The other capitals had everything looking freshly painted, more manicured. This was more naturally weathered, breathing more life, more history. The music sounded like gypsy music and it was amazing. The instruments cried at the hands of the musicians, the acordeonist made his instrument sound like a melodic 'tlac tlac tlac' of a train in an amazing musical trip while the clarinet kissed the evening and the other musicians played the guitar, the bass and sang. When the musicians stopped playing, we kept walking and went to a park south of the hostel where we could see the encounter of the Danube river and the Sava river. It is also the area of the fortress in Beograd. When we got there, we saw about 10 young locals playing drums and singing. We decided to check the views near them, so we could also enjoy their music. Those guys were really having a good time with the drums and their music. From the top of the hill, we could see that Beograd is very spread out but also very polluted. The evening was covered with a haze. The park was nice though. Lots of people around, couples dating on the benches, friends chatting, etc. Then, three police men came by and talked in Serbian to us. Since Pasha was the only one that spoke Serbian, he talked to them. After they left, Pasha told us that the police men wanted to know if the drumers were disturbing us and he said no. They walked over to the drumers and we thought they were going to ask them to stop. They talked for a while, then, one of the guys handed a bottle of liquor to the police men, they drank, talked a bit more, shook hands with the drumers and left. Then, I came over and asked the drummers if they knew those police guys. They said they had seen them before but didn't really know them. I thought it was great! Nice to see some relaxed police like that. When we got back to the hostel, only Mladen and his girlfriend were there. We sat at the table with them, drank a few more beers, Mladen kept putting great music playing, turned on the light for the strobe globe and we had our little discoteque again. Then, he brought a bottle of Rakia. It is as strong as vodka and the evening was nice, the company was wonderful, our beds were on the room near by, so, why not? The problem is: Why don't we remember that there's the day after? I woke up half dead the following day!When I finally had energy to get up, there was a Canadian guy called Francis sleeping on the bed above me. He had arrived early in the morning. I got to the kitchen and Mladen had also put a CD of songs he recorded for me together with my camera. Franz and Ana said bye as they were taking off to different places. When I finally had energy to get up, Pasha and I and Francis decided to go to visit the memorial for Tito, the ex-president and dictador of the former Yugoslavia. It was ok but the best part was that there is a gallery in front of his memorial with some very interesting art exhibitions. There was a very powerful one showing plaster faces of abused women all over the word and their stories. There was another one were the artist asked a bunch of people from different countries to sing songs of togetherness or songs that talked about standing together against evil things in the world. There were about 15 stereos on the floor playing at same time different songs. There was no way you could identify the songs. People were kneeling down to check the songs coming from each speaker. When I passed by, I thought I recognized one. There was a woman singing 'Oh Canada'. After Tito's memorial, we visited the biggest orthodox church in the world. It started to be built in 1935 but since Yugoslavia became a comunist country after, the construction stopped. It is all finished on the outside but inside is a big work in progress. It was cool to see the construction workers carving huge pieces of marble, long pieces of mosaics, etc. Then, time to check another museum of an inventor called Nikola Tesla, the inventor of the remote control and a bunch of other things. It seems that there's a dispute to this day that he should be considered also the inventor of electricity and the radio. Very driven inventor! Just like Alexander Graham Bell.Before heading back to the hostel, I went by myself to a street market and bought some stuff to cook dinner and a big steak. The market was very nice and very similar to the ones I was used to go to with my mother. Both when I was a kid or even later when I would go down to Brazil. Markets like these make me feel really close to my mother. She always knew the names of all vendors that she liked to buy from them. I remember when my father and I went there to buy food for the first time without my mother. I remember the tears rolling down on the face of the lady with very blue eyes at the stand where my mom liked to buy vegetables. So many memories...On my last day in Beograd, Pasha, myself and Francis just walked and walked again. We went to the fortress of Beograd and had a day view of the junction of the Sava river and the Danube river. It was a perfect location for the fortress but it was also a very strategic location and the fortress and the city of Beograd were attacked more than 40 times! At the edge of the rivers, there are lots of boats anchored that at night become restaurants, dance clubs, etc. We decided to go there and on our way down I saw something that in my view, should be considered one of the wonders of the world or at least a world heritage site: The chapel of St. Petka. It is a small chapel but the whole area inside (except the floor, that has normal tiles) is covered in mosaics! Not even an inch on the walls or the ceilings without mosaics! Images of Christ, of angels, of doves and stars, of Ave Maria, etc. All done in this delicate and time consuming art! The windows are also in stained glass. While we were inside and I was totally in awe, a lady came in to talk to the orthodox priest and I could hear him praying. He put a black cloth over her head and then, his hand and started to pray. It was very touching to hear the orthodox version in Serbian of the Ave Maria. Even without knowing the words, I could recognize the rhythm of the prayer.It was time again to pack my bag, say bye to everybody that I had met in another great hostel. My time in Beograd was just packed with wonderful moments. It is specially interesting when we seem to carry the bad memories with us about things that happen in other parts of the planet. What I mean from that is that I still thought of Serbia and many countries in the former Yugoslavia as difficult countries to live. The attacks by the NATO and US, the problems in Kosovo, etc. I know they are still a problem. Yet, I found a city that showed me that life goes on. I think the Serbians are doing a great job at this. Beautiful people, parks that are full of people peacefully strolling in the middle of the night, crowded streets, etc. Before I left, Mladen ofered me a big plate of soup that he and Drajna had made. Some people really touch you just the way they are! Francis was also going to Budapeste and we walked together to the train station. My train was definetelly the oldest one on the plataforms. I am sure it was made before 1950! When I boarded it, the conductor, a very kind but abrupt guy, told me that I was the only one in my cabin. I put my stuff down on the other bed, got the the bed sheets to make my bed and came to the corridor to see Beograd for the last time. It was full moon. As the train left the station, the moon was just above the city. As the train carried me away to Sofia, I stayed at the windown and I was sad, sad, sad. I was leaving a city that had conquered me. Ralf - Levoyageurpanamericano O trem para Belgrado sairia a 1 da tarde de Budapeste. Eu acordei cedo, andei pela cidade pela ultima vez, almocei e fui para a estacao. Mais uma vez eramos somente duas pessoas na cabine para 6 pessoas. Dessa vez, um vagao mais novo (Austriaco, como Zoran, o outro cara na cabine falou) e os assentos eram otimos! Eles escorregavam pra frente ate ficarem quase na vertical e como do outro lado nao havia ninguem sentado, ficamos tendo duas camas na cabine! Zoran foi um outro otimo companheiro de viagem. Um cara de 24 anos extremamente inteligente e que sabia bastante sobre a historia da antiga Yugoslavia e da historia dos novos paises. Como ele disse: ninguem naquela regiao pensa que nasceu e vai morrer no mesmo pais. As coisas ali mudam tanto que as pessoas tem esse sentimento que as coisas vao continuar mudando. Como exemplo, ele citou ele mesmo. Ele nasceu na Yugoslavia, cresceu na Serbia e Montenegro e agora vive na Serbia, ja que Montenegro eh um pais independente agora. Foi otimo conversar com ele. Senti como se estivesse tendo uma aula particular de historia e geografia sobre o pais que eu estava indo visitar em algumas horas! Um fantastico professor e muito inteligente. Ele escreveu o nome dos lugares que eu deveria de visitar, me deu algumas dicas sobre Beogrado e ja que o onibus dele era perto do albergue, ele me levou ate na porta! Foi muito legal da parte dele pois mesmo o albergue ficando num local bem legal, a estacao ferroviaria nao ficava. E o albergue nao seria tao facil de achar as 10 da noite. O albergue eh chamado de 'os tres gatoz' (com z mesmo) mas os gatos ja nao estao la mais. Na verdade, eh um apartamento pequeno com dois quartos que podem acomodar 10 pessoas no total. Fica no quinto andar de um predio meio dilapidado bem no centro de Beogrado. Bem conveniente. Mladen, o dono eh um cara hiper simpatico. Bem tranquilo e passa o dia grudado na namorada dele, Drajna. Uma vez eu acordei, e ela estava sentada no colo dele dormindo enquanto ele lia. Quando eu vi a localizacao do albergue, conversei um pouco com Mladen e senti a vibracao do albergue, eu ja sabia que nao iria ficar so os dois dias que havia planejado. Tomei um banho e separei a roupa suja para ser lavada. A seguir, Mladem me ofereceu uma cerveja e fui sentar na mesa com os outros hospedes. Ana da Australia, Franz da Holanda, Pasha de Belorussia e 2 rapazes e duas mocas da Espanha que estavam viajando juntos. Mladen colocou uma musica otima tocando, apagou a luz em cima da mesa, colocou uma outra luz do lado de um daqueles globos cheios de pedacos de vidro de discoteca rodando e ficamos tendo a nossa propria discoteca. Ninguem dancou mas ficamos ali batendo papo naquele lugar otimo com um astral melhor ainda e com uma musica fenomenal. No dia seguinte, acordei e fui na embaixada canadense votar, pois era dia de eleicao no Canada. So que fiquei sabendo que eu deveria de ter votado no maximo, uma semana antes. Pena! Especialmente porque eu poderia ter ido votar em qualquer outra capital pelas quais passei. Dai, fui na estacao de trem para ter informacoes sobre os trens para a Bulgaria. No caminho, passei por alguns predios que haviam sido bombardeados pela NATO e pelos Estados Unidos em 1999 por causa dos problemas internos em Kosovo. Foi muito estranho e triste ver aqueles predios ali, bombardeados, quebrados em pedacos em pe. Mostrando pra nos a devastacao de uma guerra, o que uma bomba pode fazer. Muito, muito triste!A noite, Franz me chamou para jantarmos juntos. Ana e Pasha se juntaram a nos. Pasha esta estudando Serbio e turismo. Assim, acabamos tendo um guia turistico pela noite. Saimos do albergue e as ruas estavam fervendo de gente. Pessoas andando, passeando, nos cafes, nos bares, etc. Beogrado parece ter uma vida noturna hiper agitada. Andamos 3 quarteiroes e nos encontramos em um lugar totalmente diferente. Uma rua com paralelepipedos, com muitos bares e restaurantes mais calmos, mais romanticos, numa parte da cidade chamada de 'o quarteirao Boemio'. Muitos musicos tocando nos restaurantes. Foi como se de repentes nos tivessemos sido transportados para Quebec City ou Ouro Preto. Nos sentamos para tomar umas cervejas e ouvir os quatro musicos tocando. Atras deles, o muro de um predio com as placas dos nomes das ruas em Cyrilic (o alfabeto da regiao) e um predio meio dilapidado. Nao um predio caindo aos pedacos. Na verdade, mais interessante. Nas outras capitais, tudo estava bem novinho, pintadinho, mais bem cuidado. Aqui, o predio parecia apenas respirar mais vida, mais historia. A musica parecia mais uma musica cigana e era fantastica. Os instrumentos choravam nas maos dos musicos, o acordeonista fazia o seu instrumento soar como o 'tlac tlac tlac' de um trem melodico em uma viagem fantasticamente musical enquanto a clarineta beijava a noite e os outros musicos tocavam guitarra, baixo e cantavam. Quando os musicos pararam de tocar, resolvemos andar mais pela cidade e acabamos indo parar em um parque ao sul do albergue onde poderiamos ver o encontro dos rios Sava e Danubio. Eh tambem onde fica o forte de Beogrado. Quando chegamos la, havia um grupo de uns 10 rapazes tocando tambor e cantando. Decidimos ficar olhando o encontro das aguas e ficar mais ou menos perto para podermos tambem apreciar a musica deles. Eles estavam realmente curtindo a musica deles. Do topo do forte, nos podiamos ver como Beogrado eh espalhada mas tambem bem poluida. O ar estava coberto de uma nuvem de poluicao. O parque era bem legal pelo menos. Muita gente andando por ali, muitos namorados nos bancos do parque, amigos conversando, etc. Dai, tres policiais chegaram perto da gente e comecaram a conversar em Serbio. Como Pasha era o unico que falava Serbio, ele conversou com os policiais. Depois que eles sairam, Pasha nos disse que os policiais queriam saber se os rapazes tocando tambor estavam pertubando a gente e ele disse que nao. Os policiais foram ate os rapazes e nos achamos que eles iriam impedi-los de continuar tocando. Os policiais ficaram conversando com eles por um tempo, dai um dos rapazes passou uma garrafa de bebida para os policiais que tomaram um pouco, conversaram um pouco mais, apertaram a mao dos rapazes e foram embora. Eu fiquei tao curioso que fui la conversar com os rapazes. Eles disseram que ja haviam visto os policiais antes mas nao os conheciam. Eu achei hiper legal ver policiais mais relaxados como esses. Quando voltamos para o albergue, so Mladen e a namorada dele que estavam. Sentamos a mesa, Mladen colocou musica, o globo rodando e ficamos tendo a nossa discoteca novamente. Mladen colocou uma garrafa de Rakia, forte como cachaca, na mesa e comecou a distribuir os copos para tomarmos um liquor tipico da Serbia. A noite estava otima, a companhia hiper agradavel, as nossas camas ali do lado... por que nao beber tranquilamente nao eh? O problema eh que a gente se esquece que existe o dia seguinte. Acordei meio morto no dia seguinte! Quando consegui levantar, havia um canadense chamado Francis, dormindo na cama acima da minha. Ele havia chegado de manha e estava dormindo um pouco. Cheguei na cozinha, a minha camera estava la e embaixo, um CD de musicas que Mladen havia gravado pra mim. Franz e Ana estavam se despedindo pois iriam viajar para lugares diferentes. Dai, eu, Pasha e Francis resolvemos ir visitar o tumulo e memorial do ex-presidente Tito da Yugoslavia. Foi mais ou menos mas a melhor parte eh que na frente do memorial, existe uma galeria de arte bem na frente com umas exibicoes bem interessantes. Havia uma que era uma exibicao bem forte sobre mulheres abusadas no mundo inteiro. Voce via somente a mascara de gesso do rosto de cada uma delas e a estoria delas escrita do lado. Havia uma outra onde o artista pediu a pessoas de varias partes do mundo para cantarem cancoes de coletividade e de protesto que falavam de nos mantemos juntos para podermos lutar contra a maldade no mundo. Eram mais ou menos 15 stereos no chao e cada um tocando uma musica diferente. Nao dava nem para identificar as musicas. As pessoas estavam agachando para ver se conseguiam identificar alguma musica vindo de cada caixa de som. Quando passei no meio delas, eu achei que reconheci uma musica. Havia a voz de uma mulher cantando o hino do Canada. Depois do memorial do ex-presidente Tito, fomos visitar a maior igreja orthodoxa do mundo. Ela comecou a ser construida em 1935 mas como a Yugoslavia virou comunista, a construcao da igreja ficou parada. Ela ja esta pronta do lado de fora mas do lado de dentro ainda eh um trabalho bem inacabado. Foi bem legal de ver os trabalhadores esculpindo pecas enormes de marmore, pecas enormes de mosaicos, etc. Depois de la, fomos no museu de um inventor chamado Nikola Tesla. Ele eh o inventor do controle remoto e um montao de outras coisas. Existe ate hoje um debate sobre a possibilidade dele ser considerado o verdadeiro inventor da eletricidade e do radio. Um desses grandes inventores obstinados! Igual Alexander Graham Bell.Antes de voltar para o albergue, eu fui para um mercado tipo feira e comprei algumas coisas para fazer meu jantar e um bifao. A feira era bem legal e bem parecida com as feiras que eu ia antes com minha mae. Tanto quando eu era pequeno como quando eu ia passear no Brasil. Feiras assim fazem me sentir bem perto de minha mae. Ela sempre sabia o nome dos vendedores e vendedoras onde ela gostava de fazer a feira. Eu lembro quando eu e meu pai fomos pela primeira vez fazer feira sem minha mae. Eu das lagrimas descendo no rosto de uma feirante com uns olhos bem azuis, onde minha mae gostava de comprar vegetais. Tantas lembrancas...No meu ultimo dia em Beogrado, eu, Pasha e Francis so caminhamos e caminhamos. Fomos ate of forte outra vez e assim pudemos ver o encontro das aguas dos dois rios durante o dia. Realmente eh uma localizacao perfeita para o forte mas tambem bem estrategica a localizacao e o forte e a cidade ja foram atacadas mais de 40 vezes. Na beira do rio, existem varios barcos ancorados que a noite viram restaurantes, barzinhos, discotecas, etc. Quando decidimos descer do forte ate a beira do rio, nos passamos por uma capela que eu acho que deveria de ser considerada uma das maravilhas do mundo! Ou pelo menos patrimonio da humanidade: a Capela de St. Petka. Eh uma capela pequena e toda a area dentro (exceto o piso que tem azulejos), ela eh toda revestida de mosaicos! Nao existe nem uma area de um centimetro que nao seja revestida nas paredes ou teto sem mosaicos! Tudo feito com essa arte delicada e que gasta um tempo enorme para ser feita. As janelas tambem sao todas de vitrais. Enquanto eu estava la dentro, totalmente maravilhado, uma senhora entrou e foi conversar com o padre orthodoxo e eu pude ouvi-lo rezando. Ele colocou um pano preto na cabeca dela, depois a mao dele e comecou a rezar. Fiquei bem comovido de ouvir a versao em Serbio e orthodoxa da Ave Maria. Mesmo sem entender as palavras, eu pude reconhecer o ritmo daquela reza.Mais uma vez estava na hora de arrumar a mochila, dar adeus a todos que eu havia conhecido em mais um albergue hiper legal. O tempo que eu passei em Beogrado foi cheio de momentos maravilhosos. Foi mais interessante ainda quando eu penso como carregamos as memorias ruins com a gente do que acontece em outras partes do planeta. O que eu quero dizer eh que eu ainda pensava na Serbia e outros paises da antiga Yugoslavia como paises dificeis de se viver. O bombardeios da NATO e dos Estados Unidos, os problemas em Kosovo, etc. Eu sei que eles continuam sendo problemas. Ao mesmo tempo, eu encontrei uma cidade que me mostrou que a vida continua. E eu acho que os Serbios estao tirando isso de letra. Gente maravilhosa, parques cheios de gente caminhando tranquilamente no meio da noite, ruas cheias de gente, etc. Antes que eu saisse, Mladen me ofereceu um pratao de sopa que ele e Drajna haviam feito. Algumas pessoas tocam a gente apenas sendo naturalmente quem eles sao! Francis tambem estava indo para Budapeste e nos andamos juntos para a estacao. O meu trem era com certeza o mais antigo na estacao! Tenho certeza que ele foi construido antes de 1950! Quando eu entrei no vagao, o condutor, simpatico mas meio carrancudo ao mesmo tempo, me disse que eu era o unico na cabine com beliches para 6 pessoas. Pus a mochila na outra cama, arrumei a minha cama com o lencol e fronha que o condutor me deu e fui para o corredor do trem. Assim, eu poderia ver Beogrado pela ultima vez. Era noite de lua cheia e a lua estava bem em cima da cidade enquanto o trem saia lentamente da estacao. Enquanto o trem me levava para Sofia, eu fiquei ali na janela triste, triste, triste. Eu estava saindo de uma cidade que havia me conquistado. Ralf - Levoyageurpanamericano