Adventures at home, abroad, and online

Category: Childrens Crusade Page 5 of 7

Italy to the Holy Land, and then on to India

Istanbul

After arriving in the morning, we trekked to our hotel. It’s in the touristy backpacker zone, but a little bit away from the central madness. In an incredibly cute wooden house, on a narrow cobblestone lane. Dropped our stuff, and went out for lunch at a place of Hannah’s choosing, and she couldn’t have done better.

The Blue Mosque

The rooftop terrace at DoyDoy (stupid name, excellent food), had an amazing view of the Blue Mosque. About halfway through our meal, which was a welcome change from the heaviness of Balkan food, the midday call to prayer began. While this was old hat to the other diners, who were mainly businessmen, we were pretty astonished. The warbling tones sound so similar to Jewish prayers, it’s a wonder we can’t all get along. Why can’t we focus on the things that unite us, like falafel?

Then we went to the underground cistern, which was famously used as a chase scene in From Russia with Love.

In the Cistern

While there are walkways instead of just boats now, it’s still an amazing place. Just meters below the surface of the city, there’s a cavernous space supported by columns reappropriated from ancient temples. It’s dimly lit by red and yellow spotlights, and the arabic music adds to the ambience. Tried to get some pictures of the reflections, but without a tripod it’s darn near impossible.

Above ground again, we ventured into the Blue Mosque.

Hannah veiled

Hannah claims this is the most spiritual place she’s been, and I think it gives Notre Dame a run for its money. The dome isn’t as big as that in St Peters, but the airy design gives a better sense of the space. And because there are lights around head level, it brings things back to a human scale. The Ottomans certainly win this engineer’s admiration.

Had dinner at an excellent fish restaurant right near our hotel. Hannah sure can pick ’em, fancy cars kept arriving at the valet. I tried to get them to bring me their most expensive car for us to depart, but without a make and model they were unwilling to bring it around. Seriously, excellent fresh snapper makes me much happier than yogurt covered whatever. I could get used to this.

The Orient Express

Got up bright and early in Skopje, and prepared for our journey to the East. Our train to Nis departed at 6am, and was supposed to arrive at 11, in plenty of time for our connection to Istanbul. But thanks to the Macedonian rail service, we sat in a railyard for two hours, making our connection much tighter. Luckily, the connecting train to Istanbul was also late, so we had plenty of time to stock up on supplies (water, pretzels and chocolate, we weren’t brave enough to eat prepackaged train station sandwiches).

Serbian mountain pass
The hero shot

Our long ride to Istanbul involved two cabin switches, and some late night border crossings. The accomodations in the regular cars seemed fine, but the cars kept being disconnected from the train at the station, so we would be woken from our slumber and moved to another car. This is the reason to buy a sleeper, not because it is necessarily any more comfortable. On one of the swaps, I appear to have lost my cell phone, which made me angry more than anything else. I got another in Turkey, spending twice as much for a phone that is half as good.

Turkish Sunflowers
Arrival

We did have an interesting experience at the Bulgarian/Turkish border. They informed us, at 2am that we could no longer ride on the train because our car would be disconnected and there were only sleeper cars going to Istanbul. We got up to purchase sleeper seats, but just then the border guard took our passports. The train conductor demanded them minutes later, to allow us to upgrade our seats. We followed the man with the gun, deeming his access to our documents more important. However, he tired of us following him through the train, and told us to stay. Thus, we waited in the hallway for fifteen minutes, to be told that we could no longer loiter. We bought the sleeper supplement without documentation, by flashing some of our emergency cash, got a cabin that was only mildly more comfortable, and hoped we would get our passports back eventually. We did just before the train pulled off, as the Bulgarian guard greeted us with “friends!”, and we collapsed in relief. Of course, we were awakened minutes later to stand in line at the Turkish border for a visa, but this all went without a hitch.

Seven hours later, we pulled into Istanbul at Sirecki Gar. Tired, smelly, and finally in Istanbul.

Stuck in Macedonia with the Turkey blues again

Due to our relative lack of understanding of the political situation, our best laid plans were waylaid this morning. Looking at a rail map, the best clear route from Pristina to the real rail network, and east to Istanbul is through Nis, a city in Serbia. At the Pristina bus station yesterday, I was told there wasn’t a bus to Nis, but I thought they meant that day, not ever. Finding a person who spoke more than a little english, we were able to piece together that the bus doesn’t go through that border crossing. My requests were something like asking to go from Jerusalem to Gaza on public transit, without understanding that it simply isn’t done. So, lesson learned, we took a bus to Skopje, Macedonia, from where we can catch a train to Nis and parts beyond.

Skopje is a stellar example of Communist architecture. The city was virtually destroyed in an earthquake in the 1960’s, and rebuilt in the style of the period, to the delight of architecture buffs, but probably the detriment of the citizens. The opera and ballet house has been described as just like the one in Syndey, except square. Hannah and I spent the day in our conspicuously clean but slightly creepy HI hostel, and ventured out after the heat of the day to find sustenance in the form of food, phones and internet. One down, two to go.

Skopje Opera House
Skopsko

Kosovo

Got to Kosovo yesterday morning on an overnight bus, and am mostly recovering from the late night border crossings. Crossed from Bosnia to Serbia at about 2am; everyone got off the bus to smoke, and I urinated on the junkyard right next to the border. Then we piled back in the bus and tried to sleep for a few more hours, until we got to the Kosovar border.

Serbian border guard
NATO border guard

On the Serbian side, which they don’t recognize as an international crossing, there is a small shack with two policemen and a tiny car. On the Kosovar side, there is a row of barbed wire, sandbags, and armored personnel carriers. The border is actually staffed by UN officials (the guy who checked my passport was Kenyan, and the guy who checked the bus for drugs was Bangledeshi), and the troops are NATO. They stamped UNMIK on a separate sheet from my passport, as there can be issues re-entering Serbia with what they consider this illegitimate stamp.

Got to Pristina and were dead tired from the lack of sleep and uncomfortable seats. Found a taxi driver to take us to “Pansion Professor”, a relatively cheap guest house. The driver agreed, as soon as his friend returned from an errand. Smelling scam, I backed away and started searching for someone else. But just then, another taxi drove up and produced a coke bottle full of gas. The driver poured it into his tank, and we were good to go.

There’s not too much to do in Pristina besides look at the UN buildings and try and figure out how to get inside. We did stop by where we think Chris Hammond works, but the guard didn’t believe our (admittedly shaky) story. Went out for Chinese food, as Hannah and I are bored by the Balkan standard meat, filo dough and yogurt combinations. Seriously, I have eaten so much yogurt. Yogurt drink for breakfast with burek, yogurt for bread dipping at lunch, and yogurt on top of veal burger for dinner. I love yogurt!

Frescoed ceiling
Gracnica monastary

Today we took a bus to Gracanica, a Serbian enclave inside Kosovo, and the home of a 14-th century monastary covered in frescoes. I found it more impressive than the much more famous Giotto chapel in Padua. It is guarded by NATO, Swedes in this case, because there has been anti-Serb violence in the past.

Gadime cave

Then we found a taxi to take us to the Gadime caves, which are not particularly spectacular compared to some of the other caves I’ve seen, but a welcome change from the church-mosque-museum beat. The stalactites all grow at strange angles, which is apparently something special. Our guide spoke “not so much” English, but was happy to tell us the same three things over again. Still, nice to be out of the sun and somewhere cool for half an hour.

Skenderbrau, the Albanian hero

For our afternoon in Pristina, we wandered to the Kosovar Museum, which has a great collection of pre-Medival finds from the area. Here, as in Israel, archaeology is profoundly political, as each side tries to find a historical basis to their claims. The museum captions were pretty one sided, but shows how the Illyrians turned into the Albanians at the fall of the Roman empire, and how they successfully defended the area from the Slavic “barbarians”. Sadly, the collection is mostly missing, as they transferred the best stuff to Belgrade for safe keeping from the NATO bombing campaign, and then the Serbs refused to give it back. There is a large poster pleading for help from the UN, which doesn’t seem to be forthcoming.

Hanging out at the hostel tonight, as Hannah and I feel pretty done with this place. Having a hobo dinner of pasta, tuna and weeks old pesto. One more bus ride to Nis, and then a train to Istanbul. The crusaders march on!

Peja, the Kosovar beer

Sarajevo

Sleepy Mostar train station

Got an early train from Mostar, through incredible mountain valleys, along the ice blue Nerevata River. Didn’t see any men plowing fields with oxen, as Jani did on her trip here in the 70’s, but we did see some Monet style haystacks.

Latin Bridge

Sarajevo is bustling on this Saturday morning, and we strolled along the cobbled Ferhadija with seemingly the entire town. Hannah got a B&H soccer jersey, and I pondered getting one of the mounted machine guns at the “War Museum”, which was really just a souvenir shop in disguise. I did actually get the FAMA Guide to Sarajevo from the 1992 seige, but it’s clearly a recent reprint. Still, an interesting cultural artifact. We also walked across the bridge on which Gavrilo Princip shot Archduke Franz Ferdinand, sparking WWI. The guidebook says that their footprints used to be encased in the pavement, but were removed in the 90’s, as Princip was deemend a terrorist, and a Bosnian at that.

Chess on Trg Oslobodenja

Hannah sat and watched two men play chess in a park, surrounded by a gaggle of old men providing commentary. She made a friend, and they traded chess tips, although they did not share a common language. She was actually the only woman in sight, a fact that seemed to cause some of the old guys alarm, but when I showed up and took pictures everyone was happy.

Waiting around now to catch an overnight bus to Pristina, Kosovo. Our guidebook says that it wasn’t safe to update as of the last printing (2006), but we checked out more recent guides in a bookstore, and they seem to think it’s fine. Besides, who wouldn’t want to go see a UN protectorate? I love those blue helmets…

The multicultural man holds the world together

Page 5 of 7

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