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Wednesday 29 July 2015

Summer of Fun: Rome, Italy

Read Summer of Fun here, and Italy Part One.

28 May
I wasn't in a rush to depart Florence for Rome, so I shouldered my backpack, grabbing a coffee and a croissant before jumping on the train back to Roma Termini. I had low expectations of Rome and to be honest, my expectations remained relatively unchanged.

You know when something happens and it may not necessarily be that person or that place's fault, but the memory tars it forever? Well, that happened in Rome. I'll get to that later.

If you're going to be in Rome for a few days, I recommend getting a Roma Pass. For me, it turned out to be a waste of money but if you'll be there a few days and you won't be in shitty mood, then the Roma Pass saves you both time and money. It gives you unlimited rides on the public transport system (something I didn't use because no damn bus ever arrived) and between 1 and 3 entries into attractions or museums.

My bad mood began with a dreadful lunch. After the amazing food of Florence, I was already starting to wonder why I'd left. No matter, I studied my map and decided to see one of the greatest archeological sites in the world: the Colosseum.

Forgive me, please, but by this time I had spent 3 weeks looking at ruins. Ruins in Greece. Ruins and ancient sites in Egypt. By the time I made it to Rome, I had Ruin Fatigue. So I perhaps wasn't as wowed as I could have been and worked on mustering up my enthusiasm. With my Roma Pass I was able to skip the queue, had a humorous conversation with some school children in the line that went along the lines of: "Do you speak English?" "Yes." "Oh wow! What's your name? Where are you from!!" "My name is Sasha and I'm from Australia, what's your name?" before I emerged blinking into the sunlight of the ruins of the Colosseum. 


I spent some time here taking happy snaps in the bright sun, before I left and started wandering down the street. On the way, I passed a gorgeous looking fruit stall in front of another ruin, and I bought myself some grapes. Grapes because they make me think of royalty, being hand fed grapes. Each grape was about the size of a ping pong ball, they were enormous. I'm talking at length about grapes because it was a good thing that happened to me that day.

I continued wandering, and bought an overpriced bruschetta. As an aside, I've always pronounced it "broo-shet-ta", thinking I was being delightfully posh and correct. Nope. "Broo-sket-ta", people. Broo-sket-ta. After waiting for a bus for what felt like an age, I gave up and walked back to the hostel, where things began to fall apart.

I checked into my room in silence as no one looked up to say hello and I logged onto the wifi to check my social media and email.


Um…what?

We're sorry, but your flight will not be operated.

This has to be some kind of spam. I punched in the booking code and sure enough: my flight in 2 days time from Rome - Split, Croatia had been cancelled.

I panicked, as I am wont to do, and raced downstairs to use the computer. Someone else was taking an age on it and after a quick chat I discerned that they too had had their flight by Vueling cancelled. That'll teach me for buying a £50 flight through a company I'd never heard of, I thought. It was finally my turn to use the computer and I searched for other options. I complained long and loudly to anyone who would listen. I looked at the ferry to Split which had been my original idea, but because of the last minute nature of the booking this was now up to around £180 including initial train to get there.

In the end, I found the cheapest flight to be £225 from Rome to Split in the afternoon of the 30th.

Fuck.
Fuck. 
FUUUUUUUUUCK.

What a waste of money. I opted to have my Vueling flight refunded instead of credited. Looking up Vueling reviews, I discovered they have a horrendous track record, and I vowed to not only never use them again, but proclaim at every available opportunity that no one should ever use them.

Let this be a lesson to you all.

I had been intending to have a night out on the town run by the hostel that night, but I got my money back and went to bed early.

29 May
I woke up adamant to have a fresh start and to see if Rome could change my mind about it today. It worked a little bit, and Rome did redeem itself as the day went on. I had a gentle plan of action but first things first: breakfast. I had read that you can tell an authentic Italian coffee house if all the locals are standing by the counter, gulping down an espresso and generally in a hurry. I was walking on my way to the Pantheon when I spied down a side street a cafe with quite a few people. On approach, I saw the counter was three people deep with locals throwing back espressos. Perfect! I thought, and ordered myself a cappuccino (because 'mocha' never translated well), a croissant and another sweet.

I was not disappointed. The coffee was almost good enough to turn me into a proper coffee drinker, and the pastries gave me a little moment. This put me in good stead for the day and so I continued on my way to find the Pantheon.

I had not intended to visit the Trevi Fountain because I knew it was under construction, but I stumbled across it's beautiful scaffolding none-the-less. The fountain is famous for its statues and traditionally if you throw a coin in you will be blessed with returning one day to the Eternal City that is Rome. 

The Pantheon was situated in the middle of a busy, built up square and its ancient structure seemed strangely out of place in its modern and close knit surrounds. I marvelled that it was free to enter, and spent quite a bit of time inside looking at the gorgeous artworks, statues, ceilings and elaborate floor. This is ok, I thought. Rome is doing ok today.


I consulted Google maps and realised I had already walked half the way to Vatican City. I continued on and on, until I crossed a bridge and could see St Peter's Basilica rising on the horizon. As I approached, salespeople on both sides tried to sell me tours; I walked straight past each one. When I arrived at the gate, the line was enormous. I stood, taking photos of the exterior, wondering what my next plan of action was when a gentleman approached me, wanting to sell me a tour.
"I don't trust you," I said. "Explain to me what you have."
He laughed, said he understood and whipped out a pamphlet. 

"If you line up here, you'll be waiting about 3 hours," he explained, and proceeded to go through all the options. Needless to say, I crumbled and chose the most expensive tour that walked us through the 'Museum', the Sistine Chapel and the direct entry into St Peter's Basilica. I demanded to know how many people were going to be joining me on the tour as I was certain I was going to hand over my money and never see anything for it. 

In the end, it was an excellent tour. He gave me student price (hooray for looking like a child!), and I joined a group of approximately 20 people. We rounded the high walls surrounded the Vatican City, joking that we were quite literally circumnavigating a country. We grabbed our headsets, and set off through the museum. 

It's not every day you can walk around a whole country.

The museum isn't so much a museum as an incredible collection of artwork and sculptures, ceiling paintings and elaborate tile-art that Pope's of ages past would collect and display here, at first for their own private pleasure but eventually opening it up to the people. Some of my favourites included the 3D ceiling paintings, the giant Greek sculptures and the ancient maps of Italy that adorned one of the corridors. It's amazing how, without aerial views, they were able to create such intricate and accurate maps.


Our next stop was the Sistine Chapel. We were told to put away our cameras, cover our shoulders, and be silent. We stepped through the door to see floor to ceiling paintings on the walls, and the famous ceiling and front wall by Michelangelo. Our guide had described to us some interesting things to look out for in the paintings, including:
  • Michelangelo was basically dared to paint the ceiling. He was a sculptor, not a painter, and his contemporaries didn't think he could do it. It took him 4 years and cost his most of his eyesight from the paint splashing into his eyes.
  • On the ceiling, see how the figures are quite small on one end and become bigger by the other. This is because, when Michelangelo began painting, he didn't realise that the figures would be so difficult to see from the ground, so he started making them bigger.
  • On The Last Judgement, he painted himself into the old man shedding his skin
SILENCE, a voice in a microphone boomed. SILENCIA.

I was startled out of my reverie. I had shuffled, along with about 500 other people, from one side of the room to the other, looking up and down and sideways. There was supposed to be complete silence in here, and the guards were not shy about shouting about it. A woman walked past me with her phone  looking suspiciously like it was filming the ceiling, and I could see the screen light reflecting on her hand.

It was time to leave the Chapel. It was interesting, but the amount of people and the shouting guards detracted from the experience. The tour was over and, skipping the queue, we were able to enter St Peter's Basilica.

Now. Here, my breath was taken away. I hadn't known what to expect - I think I had expected to feel like this entering the Sistine Chapel, which in hindsight and in comparison was completely underwhelming. I don't have words to describe the beauty inside the Basilica. Small windows in the ceiling let shafts of light filter down. Enormous, Roman lettering encircled the tops of the walls; candles were lit and the place held a lovely sense of hush, despite the amount of people. I spent quite some time in here, wandering slowly, patting the foot of St Peter for luck, and most especially - looking up. 


Feeling quite satisfied that I had gotten the most out of The Vatican, it was time to depart. On my walk back to the hostel, I grabbed some food, some more gelato and saw two nuns posing, taking photos of each other in front of a monument. I decided that I was ready to leave Rome, and so had a lovely dinner with my hostel roommates (lasagna, this time!) before having an early night - ready to fly to Croatia the next day.


***
Perhaps if I had visited Rome first, and then Florence, I wouldn't have been so jaded. The busy streets, the hawkers, the selfie stick sellers and the scarf sellers, the busy streets and the poor food and customer service soured me. Adding to the mix my flight debacle and I was unfairly judgemental of Rome, The Eternal City.

However, Italy has not seen the last of me. I've yet to return to Florence, and say hello to Venice and Cinque Terre. I have so much more pasta and pizza to consume and gelato to devour and artwork to admore.

Til next time, Italy, ciao, but for now I am off to Croatia…


xxx

Inside the ancient Colosseum, where I imagined the Gladiators waging battle
with tigers and bears.
3D ceiling painting inside the Vatican. 
The Basilica was truly beautiful.

Tuesday 28 July 2015

Summer of Fun: Florence, Italy

Read the beginning chapters of my Summer of Fun here.

25 May
Flying out of Egypt, bound for Rome.
I went down to reception early because I needed to print my boarding pass. Naturally, this was a minor debacle as no one knew the printer password. It was finally sorted and I waited and waited for my driver Bishu. Half an hour later he emerged apologising and we packed into the car to drive to the airport. The time by now was after 8am, and my flight was at 10.30am.

We drove through terrible Cairo traffic and got to the airport at 9am. I looked for my flight on the board but there was nothing for 10.30am. Wait…that looks like my flight. Why does it say 9.30am? Panic ensued. Bishu and I scurried to each of the counters to try to find the correct carrier. Bishu took the reins; there was much excited babbling in Egyptian between he and the counter staff, while I rung my hands in utter panic.

It was now after 9am, and my flight was to leave at 9.30am.

The next thing I knew, the man behind the counter jumped over the barrier and began to run, motioning for me to follow. I shouldered my 15 kilo backpack and set off after him. 
We ran through security. 
We ran through customs. 
We ran down the corridor, my breath expelled in ragged gasps. 
Having not eaten for almost a week, my stamina was fading and fading fast, when finally the gentleman spotted a cart and waved it down. He pointed for me to get on, told the cart driver which gate to go do and, after a wheely spin we set off to the sound of my wheezing.

9.20am.

That's the time I arrived at the gate. The staff there smiled and nodded at me having been warned in advance. I thrust my luggage towards a gentleman and I waved it goodbye, certain I wouldn't see it again. With burning lungs, legs and heart I collapsed into my seat, begging the flight attendant for some water.

It was at around this point I started giggling like a madwoman. What. Just. Happened. I reflected on the lack of security in the Egyptian airport equal parts concerned, bemused and thankful. I fell asleep.

This first leg flew me to Athens where I disembarked, had a Greek Cheeseburger from Maccas before boarding again, this time for Rome, Italy. It was on this flight that it occurred to me that my boarding pass luggage tag only said Egypt-Athens, and I became convinced that my luggage wasn't going to make it to Rome.

Needless to say, I cried when I saw my purple backpack going round and round on the carousel in Rome. I bought my train ticket from Rome airport to Rome central (missed my train, of course), and then Rome central to Firenze (Is that Florence? I don't think it's Florence. Is it Florence?) and arrived, at last, at my hostel at around 9.30pm that night.

What a day. On arrival I organised to stay an additional night (on the caveat that I wouldn't have to change rooms). One hundred percent of people told me that Florence was amazing and that I should spend more time there than in Rome. Excellent, a spare room and an upgrade to boot. Exhausted and definitely requiring a shower I powered into my hostel room, to a chorus of "Oh hey! We have a new roommate!" I summed the remaining sliver of energy I had left, drew a deep breath and said loudly, "Hi everyone! I'm Sasha. Nice to meet you…"

I had a fun night out with my hostel roommates, grabbing a locally brewed beer and my very first Italian pizza, before I crashed hard and slept like a baby. 

It had been a long, panicky day, and I was glad to see the end of it.

26 May
Florence
I chose to do a free walking tour of Florence so I could get my bearings. The tour wasn't amazing and spent an awful lot of time marvelling at mediaeval turrets, but it served the purpose it had set out to do, and that was give me an idea of the layout of the town. At the end of the tour, I found some lunch at an overpriced restaurant in the square with a lovely view of the statues and Castello di Vincigliata, the castle.

David has 3 small sausages in Florence;
The real one, in the Accademia Gallery, one atop the
Piazza de Michelangelo and this one in the square.

Here, I had my first pasta and Italian wine. Delicious! It started raining quite heavily, and I was strangely impressed by how the street hawkers instantly changed from selling selfie sticks to ponchos and umbrellas. I went to find the Accademia Gallery to see Michelangelo's David but, finding myself completely lost in the rain, returned to the square and joined the queue for the Uffizi Gallery instead. I stood in the queue for approximately an hour and a half, which did keep me out of the rain but was rather exhausting. As I reached the front of the line, the man pulled the tape across before me and I almost wept; please let me in!

None the less, I finally made it inside the beautiful gallery. There were a lot of tour groups, and I positioned myself front and centre so that they wouldn't block my views of the paintings. Here I saw the Aphrodite and many other incredible works of art. I spent a couple of hours here, and upon my exit I bought the biggest gelato I have ever witnessed (my first gelato in Italy!), exclaiming to the tourists next to me that "I don't even care how much that costs!" before hoeing into it with great gusto.

The Birth of Venus, Botticelli

My phone had died by this point so I embarked on an adventure to find my way back to the hostel, picking up a bottle of Chianti on the way to share with my roommates. We had a few glasses and Supreet, Ebony, Iris and I decided to check out a little cocktail bar on the other side of the river. It was cheap as it was for locals, and it was delicious and generous and I had a most enjoyable evening with these lovely ladies. Supreet was leaving in the morning, and so we bit our adieus.

27 May
Woke up early, with a plan of attack. First, to get to the Accademia Gallery early to beat the queue. I was a little later than I intended but still reasonably pleased with my placing in the line. Why the Accademia Gallery? This is the home of Michelangelo's David. I hadn't been sure I wanted to see him, but I am glad that I did. I was far more impressed by him than I expected to be. He is enormous. Well, except for his teeny tiny todger, poor guy.

There he is, there's David.

Weenie willies aside, the marble work, detail and sheer size of David was marvellous. I took a couple of cheeky selfies (and naughty Shazza did too), before I had a quick look around the rest of the largely unimpressive gallery and burst back out onto the street.

I experienced a rather life changing mocha-and-lemon-cream-filled-croissant breakfast before heading to the station to buy a one-way ticket to Pisa. One way, because one of my roommates had forgotten to validate their return ticket and had kindly given it to me so I could use it again. Naughty! I only had one thing I wanted to do in Pisa and that was to see the leaning tower. 

Pisa is only 1 hour out of Florence and the train ride was lovely. I made a beeline straight to the Leaning Tower of Pisa, following the crowd and the signs. The first time I caught sight of it: I snorted giggled. I knew it was a tad askew, but I hadn't somehow been expecting this. 

I asked a lady if she could take "the photo" of me: major fail. I sat down and took some photos of Shazza doing the Pisa lean, when I spotted a couple of tourists who looked like they knew what they were doing. I ventured over, and while the photo isn't perfect, they did a pretty decent job for me. One final lady offered, and she also rode the fail train hard.

Peek a boo..I see you!

The Leaning Tower now sufficiently wonky, I was starved and it was time for lunch. I found a random pizza place and ordered myself a margarita pizza with a small carafe of wine: Our house white is prosecco, are you sure that's ok? More than ok! I felt amazing. The best I had felt in a week. I had a belly full of carbs and Italian pizza and bubbly wine and life was grand.

While I was sitting here, one of the strangest experiences on my trip occurred. I saw two gentlemen walking in the direction of the tower, and I couldn't quite place where I had seen them. They were too far away for me to signal to them when it dawned on me - the Canadian boys I had been talking to on the rooftop in Athens! No way - how small is the world that I see them on a random back alley in Pisa? This was not the first time this was going to happen to me on my trip.

Righto, Pisa, done. I scanned my ill-gotten train ticket and returned to Florence, it now being the mid-afternoon. I wanted to climb the Duomo of The Cattedrale di Santa Maria del Fiore but knew I was going to be joining a bit of a line. The cathedral is in the middle of Florence and it is one of the most spectacularly beautiful buildings I have ever seen. Ornate, colourful, detailed, enormous, it stood in the middle of the square as a shining marvel above. I purchased a ticket, another gelato and then joined the queue. Here, I started chatting with a young guy about music and all sorts, but he was a little overbearing and I wasn't keen on remaining in his company for too long.

The gorgeous exterior of the Duomo.

The climb to the top of the Duomo is a casual 463 steps, with many of the passages barely wide enough for one person, let alone someone passing the other way. We waited some time up near the roof where we could marvel at the muriel painted on the ceiling. The beauty and intricate detail of the outside of the cathedral is strangely juxtapositioned with the plainness of the interior, apart from the painted ceiling. Soon, it was time for us to ascend the final few stair cases to the very top, where we were presented with - quite literally (after 463 steps) - a breath taking view.

The red roofs of Florence, the sweeping green hills and the dramatic cloudy blue sky made me fall in love with little Firenze of Tuscany even more.

Oh my.

I finally tore myself away - this had been a very big day for me - and, after a short nap back at the hostel, started the long trek towards the Piazza de Michelangelo. Having had multiple recommendations to visit here for sunset, I made my way up and up and up (not an easy task after those 463 steps!) until I reached the piazza at the top; the edge of the terrace lined with people. I did my usual trick, and gently edged my way between two groups of people making conversation and offering to take photos of them if they would humour me with a little bit of space to set myself up on the wall.

I had my wine and a chat with those around and watched as the gorgeous sun began to set over pretty little Florence. When the sun finally popped! behind the horizon, the crowd cheered.

Well done Sun. You did good. 
Great job, for setting, as you've done for thousands upon millions upon billions of years. Congratulations.

As silly as it seemed, I couldn't help but clasp my hands together and feel a intensely happy; I was proud of the little sun for popping off to sleep in such a spectacular fashion. The sun now gone, I turned and continued talking to those around me. A group of uni students had taken up the space beside me, and we chatted and drank red wine until they had to leave. A girl to my left then piped up, saying "I recognise your accent, are you from Australia" "Yes I am!" I replied, "Would you like some wine?" And so we stood there and chatted, drinking red wine and eating strawberries for a long time, before Sarah and I decided we were starving - and now a little bit tipsy - and would find some place for dinner.

Stahp..just..stahhhp...it....

Dinner was more delicious pasta, and wonderful random conversation and a lovely way to end the evening (although the full bottle of bubbly wine did serve to make me rather embarrassingly incomprehensible). This was my last night in Florence, little Firenze, and I was sad to be leaving.

I understand why 100% of people are in love.

Florence, you took my breath away and stole my heart. I will be seeing you again.

Next up: Rome, you dirty scoundrel.

xx

Italian food and wine agreed with me -
a picture of good health again!
The glee at the size of my gelato is evident.
Whoops! Fell over. Look at everyone doing
Thriller in the background. 
Florence, I will see you again.

Saturday 18 July 2015

Summer of Fun: Egypt Part 2

Read Part 1 here, and the beginning of my Summer of Fun through Greece here.

20 - 22 May
The next few days all passed in a similar fashion. I was exhausted, unable to eat, unable to retain food. After the first sleepless night on the cruise ship, I attempted to be up and ready at 3am to go to Abu Simbal, one of the optional extra excursions (and quite expensive) These twin temples were carved out of the mountain for Ramesses II and his queen, Nefertari and then relocated in the 60's to stop them from being submerged by water.

My body was still aching and I felt dreadful - my lovely [and organised!] roommate let me use her thermometer - a fever. My allergy to paracetamol then reared its head, and I vowed to make sure I travel with Aspirin henceforth. I vowed to travel with a lot of things henceforth [namely bandaids, rehydrating sachets and imodium), as a result of this sickness.

I had heard so much about the temples but, disappointed, I decided I was in no state to go. I stayed behind on the boat and tried to rest. In the morning I asked the reception of the cruise ship if they had any aspirin and if not, where I could find some. They were quite willing to just let me wander out on my own in search of a chemist. Shortly after, the new Travel Talk guide arrived on board, and he kindly walked with me to find some medication. 

Without going into detail, the drugs to settle my belly did not work. I tried to eat, but I couldn't. I spent one morning by the freezing cold pool wondering how on earth they made it so icy when it was in the sun all day, wasn't deep, and was in the middle of 40+C temperatures. Most of the time I spent in bed.

The Thursday I tried to visit the Edfu temple. I thought I was feeling a little better; we caught a horse and carriage to the site and the sunshine perked me up a little. However, once there I could not stand for longer than a few minutes and had to sit down on the dusty floor. When we were given free time to roam, I made my way back to the shelter, where I purchased a white Egyptian shirt with the help of the guide Michael who made sure I wasn't being ripped off. On the way back to the boat, I was unwell all over a poor mans shop. He gave me a lemonade for free as lemon is good for upset bellies, which I accepted gratefully but in hindsight should have given him some money.


I was disappointed I was unable to party it up on the boat - it would have been good fun despite our small crew, but I was in no state. Thursday afternoon, as I lay in bed sound asleep, I was jarringly awoken by the phone ringing. 
"Hello Sasha! This is Ayman! From Reception! Can you come out into the reception? May I add you on Facebook?"
Huh? What? What's happening? I mumbled something incoherent and went back to bed.

Thursday night, we watched the boat descend through the lock; right down to ground height. Here men on the side of the road would throw their wares over the side of the ship to try to get you to purchase them. Shirts fly up, shirts fly down. 

Up here on the top deck, I was cornered again by the boy Ayman from reception who had my name from my passport, and had indeed added me on Facebook. It all clicked, what the conversation that afternoon on the phone had been about. In my disgusting state, I was being wooed by the boy on the front desk. I couldn't believe it. I stood chatting with him for a short while, promising to return later and being the horrible person I am, never did. I went to bed.

Friday afternoon we were reforming with the main group who had been on the felucca. In hindsight (and also at the time), I can not be more thankful that I was on the cruise ship and not on that felucca. Small mercies! When I boarded the coach, there was a spare seat up the front next to another poor lady who was unwell. "I do warn you, I will probably vomit," she said. "Oh do not worry," I replied, "do you have a spare plastic bag?"

Before rejoining the group that morning, I had approached Michael, the guide on board the ship. "I don't think I can catch the eight hour coach back to Cairo," I said. "Is there any way I can fly?"

Michael was instantly on the phone to Sam, and together they organised a flight for me; 1st class would have cost about £200 inc transfers, and would have left at 6pm that day. Economy, coming in at £80, would be leaving at midnight. I had initially chosen first class, but the one remaining seat sold out and so they booked the other flight for me. I was extremely grateful. 

On the bus, we visited another famous site, the name of which escapes me, and Bec and I decided we were far too unwell to traverse it. We sat (or lay down) in the relative air-conditioning inside the main building and discussed our various maladies. After what felt like an age, the tour returned and Sam came up to me. He had organised a driver to the Luxor resort, where I could stay in the lobby until it was 11pm, whereupon I would be picked up and driven to the airport.

This was a brilliant plan. My luggage went with the bus, and they would be arriving into Cairo a couple of hours ahead of me. I stayed in the Luxor resort, browsing the internet until it was sunset. I wandered out onto the balcony and watched the beautiful sunset over the Nile, with a cup of calming lemon-infused tea to try to hydrate me a little. While I was sitting out here, a gentleman and his son sat near me, also enjoying the sunset. We started chatting; they were British and the father had been living in Egypt on-off for 15 years. It was a fascinating and entertaining chat, I learnt quite a bit about Egyptian life and it was a lovely way to pass the time while I waited for my plane. They eventually left to grab some dinner, I attempted to eat - again with no luck, before napping on a sofa inside. 

Sunset over the Nile was quite spectacular.

Come 11pm, I was driven to the airport, shown through without a hitch, and it was a relatively uneventful flight. Bishu met me on the other side again - he seemed very concerned about my welfare. He insisted we stop at another chemist and he kindly purchased for me some new drugs and some snacks. I arrived back at the resort about 2.30am; luckily Emma my roommate was still awake, and I collapsed into bed.

23 May
This was the last official day of the tour. We rose early and our first stop was the Cairo museum. Earlier, I had purchased an ID card which would allow me half price access into [Europe's] major monuments. Looking at the card, it is the dodgiest piece of ID I have ever seen, and when I tried to visit the website, it failed. None-the-less, the photo was taken on the first day of the tour. I wryly showed the picture to those around me and the fat face staring out from the card was markedly different to the sunken face I now possessed. "At least I'll look good in my bikini now," I joked.

I looked about as good as I felt.

The museum was not air-conditioned. Bec and I struggled. Luckily, the tour provided headphones, so Bec and I could find a place to sit but could still hear the description of the artefact, and then make our way over to have a quick peek at it before desperately seeking out somewhere else to sit.

At lunch time, Sam lamented that if I had been on the felucca, he would have given me a remedy that would have made me better instantly! I was not convinced, but over lunch I did try his remedy. I don't know if it was the new drugs, or Sam's wonder concoction, but that afternoon I did start to feel a little more alive. The trick? A tablespoon of cumin in a glass of water. Curry taste repeated on me for the rest of the day as a result, but I do believe it helped.

This afternoon we visited the Hanging Church and a mosque, where all of the ladies had to cover up, head to toe and hair covered, with a bright green gown. Next up, the markets. With a combination of the drugs and cumin taking affect, and the adrenaline, Roxie and I traversed the markets quite well (as exhausting as they were) and haggled our way to some great and cheap purchases. Back when I visited India, I found haggling to be one of the most painful, aggravating experiences. Now, I understand how to do it, and find the challenge quite fun. All you need to do is: know roughly what you want to pay for something. Then, whatever they offer you - quarter it. Quarter it, and then work your way up to your price. If they don't want to agree with your price, walk away. Somewhere else will likely have the same wares.

That evening, dinner and drinks provided a great example of the Great Egyptian Confusion.
"May I have a gin and tonic." Goes away. 10 minutes later, returns. 
"Sorry, we don't have any tonic." "Ok, may I have a vodka and lemonade." 
Goes away. 10 minutes later, returns "Sorry, we don't have any vodka." "Ok, what do you have?" 
Goes away. 
FUCK.
Roughly 2 hours later, we had all the food and drink we had required, and I ate almost a full pizza. It was amazing. Saturday night - this was my first meal since Tuesday lunch time. It felt good to eat.
I hit the hay early.

24 May
4.30am. Emma's alarm goes off. "Come on, we have to get up!" she says. I laugh, as I was already awake, and said "I'm not leaving - I'm staying in Egypt until tomorrow!" She apologised profusely, as in her sleepy state she forgot that I wasn't heading off to Jordan for another tour. I bid her adieu and hoped we could meet again some day. I returned to sleep.

I spent most of Sunday by the pool, splashing around, relaxing and eating. In the evening, I joined a couple of sisters to see the Pyramids light show. It had been told that if you climbed to the top level of the KFC, you could watch the light show - with a better view - for free (or for the cost of a meal). So this is exactly what we did. We haggled a taxi driver who waited for us so we would have a drive home. The light show was kitsch but pretty, and after an hour or so we were ready to leave. On the return to the resort, we saw a boy casually riding a camel, as the driver took us through side and back streets giving us a completely different perspective on the city.

Pyramids and Sphinx at night

I had one more sleep left in Egypt before I was to be flying to Italy via Athens the next morning. That in itself was a debacle, but that's a story for the next instalment


xx

Silver lining? The bikini had it's debut!
Farewell Egypt, you still have one curly one
left to throw at me...

Monday 13 July 2015

Summer of Fun: Egypt Part 1


Egypt 16 May - 25 May
Foreword
"What was Egypt like? Was it safe? It looks incredible! I don't think I could do it though…"


If I had a penny for the amount of times I heard this when I returned…I'd have about 10 quid. Which is still quite a few times to be asked the same series of questions.

Egypt was amazing.
It was safe, although I did get food poisoning.
I've already said it was amazing.
Of course you could! Do a tour…

How did I come to be in Egypt? The same way a lot of my best decisions are made: I was drunk. 

I went to the Travel Talk brochure launch way back in October 2014 as I had already decided I would do a Croatia sailing tour. While there, I downed a large cider and stood chatting, becoming more and more convinced that Egypt is a place I need to go. £179 for 9 days? Only a £10 deposit, right? I've spent more on less, I thought to myself, and whacked down my tenner.

I had originally booked to go on the Felucca Odyssey tour but after researching exactly what a felucca was, I decided that I would be unable to do it. A felucca is a traditional Egyptian sailing boat, the clincher being no shower or toilet on board. For someone with my belly issues, I wasn't game to risk that, and so just on the day of the deadline I switched to the Jewels of the Nile tour, which swapped the felucca for a cruise ship. And so it begins.

Read part one of my Summer of Fun: Greece.

16 May
Extremely out of character, I slept almost the whole flight. The scent of dinner woke me up. As a result, I was pretty rattled when I landed and when I was roughly halfway through customs I saw a Travel Talk sign, held by Bishu. He raced me through the rest of the process; getting my visa, propelling me over here, propelling me over there, chatting briskly with this security guard, leading me at a quickened pace through customs before we burst into the hot night air. We chatted away on the drive about all sorts of things. My ankles were eaten by mosquitos by the time we reached the resort (yes, you read correctly, resort) and I checked in, having arrived a night early.

The tour wasn't to start until the night of the 16th so I spent the day gently meeting my tour mates, my roommate Emma and lazing by the pool. At one point, a few of the girls and I covered up as much as we could bear to in the heat and walked down the street to get some water and snacks. What ensued was honking, whistling, more honking, honking from the other side of the highway, cars slowing down, yelling and more honking. I assume our ankles showing was quite the sight. At the hole-in-the-wall store, I discovered POP, little ice-cream balls that were to become my new favourite thing ever. 

After our induction, we all piled into the bus to head to dinner. I was extremely hangry and joined the queue before the rest of my table. Later that evening, our entertainment was a beautiful belly dancer and two men dancing the tanoura, a traditional Egyptian men's dance that involves spinning, and a lot of it. The belly dancer dragged Zoe and myself up onto the stage, where I attempted to wiggle between fits of laughter. Zoe had the moves! Meanwhile I wiggle about as much as a ruler. This was followed by a short statured man who took to the stage in a spinning skirt for the tanoura dance. He was then replaced by a gentleman who appeared to be the "proper" dancer - this all seemed a little contrived and awkward as we weren't comfortable laughing at the little man.

Either way, the man began to spin. And spin. And spin. In my position at the corner of the stage, he continuous toyed with me - pretending to throw something in my direction to make me jump, or moving behind me so I couldn't see him. 

Spinning around like a top

Round of applause, and that drew day one to a close. We had an early night as there was a big day on the morrow.

17 May
First up on this stiflingly hot day: the oldest pyramid in Egypt, the step pyramid built by King Zoser in 2700BC. Let that sink in for a second. 27th century BC. That's 5 thousand years ago. The pyramid was largely under construction and it was not long before we were back on the bus and making our way to the pyramids everyone knows: the world famous pyramids of Giza, build for Cehops, Chephren and Mycrenos. 

The urban sprawl has extended almost to the base of the Great Pyramid, which stands 139m tall. Originally, all three of the pyramids had been covered in limestone. This would have caused the pyramids to glow and sparkle white across the golden barren dessert. However, over the course of the years, much of this fell down, and a lot was also used for other ancient constructions. Only the tip of the Middle pyramid remains. 

The pyramids now can be seen as giant building blocks, each one standing almost as tall as I am. There are many theories of how the rocks came to be in place: aliens or slave labour being the most popular. Our guide, Sam, explained that in the low seasons, there was a significant amount of unemployment and so the pharaoh paid for his subjects to help build the enormous structures. Willing participants work much better than slaves!  

There are also a great number of theories as to the stones were placed there, some of which are similar to that at Stonehenge. To move the rocks, a small amount of water was poured onto the sand in front of a pulley system. This prevented the rock from piling into the sand and allowed it to glide with more ease across the now more rigid surface. Finally, how do each rocks fit into place? Many rocks were quarried from the same area, and so the rocks were able to fit back in next to their brothers and sisters once reassembled.

The Middle Pyramid, with limestone tip, seen through the building
blocks of the Great Pyramid

Utterly fascinating! I spent some time climbing up the giant rock steps, before haggling (poorly) with a local for a couple of headdresses with Smita. We were about to board our camel and I had to look the part! The camel was to take us from the middle pyramid to the smaller, third pyramid. I scurried on top, and tried to organise my belongings in my hands before suddenly I was pitched forward.

I screamed. I was pitched backwards. I screamed some more. The camel had chosen exactly that moment, when both my hands were full, to stand up. Not having any stirrups, I had to rely on my incredible thigh strength to keep me on the humpy beast.

The camel ride lasted about half an hour, during which time I squealed an awful lot. My hands shaking, I took a few terrible selflies before gaining confidence that I wouldn't drop my phone (that seemed to be my primary concern, not falling off). I looked around and spotted others with stirrups - I continued to clasp with my knees and thighs. We stopped with the perfect view of the pyramids behind us and I tentatively passed my phone to the child who had been leading our group of 2. He took a series of slightly askew photos before finally handing my phone back to me. 


We continued on a short distance before it was time to dismount.
"Lean forward," he said. I leant forward. the camels back legs dropped.
"Now lean back."
I held on tight and leaned back as the camels front legs dropped. We were now resting on the ground so I swung my legs over, quickly scurrying away from the boy who was demanding more tips despite us already having paid a tip.

What an experience, what a ride! 

Our next stop was a quick peek at the Sphinx, before the long, long drive to Hurghada. We arrived late at night and Emma and I decided we wouldn't go to the foam party at the resort. Ok, we will go for a short walk around the resort and have a peek at the foam party, but we won't go in.


Nek minute, we're shoes off, free-poured vodka in hand, dancing it up in a giant pool of foam.

The music and lighting were excellent, the drinks strong. The foam came pouring out of a funnel in the middle of the room and it was all encompassing. We were soaked and slippery. The detergent stung my eyes, and I took the foam as an opportunity to half wash the clothes I was wearing. We danced and slipped and slid and before long, tt was time to break the seal, so I jumped out of the foam pool. Straight onto a shard of glass.

Fuck, I said. Ouch. I hobbled my way to a couch and inspected the damage. A large, approx 1/2 inch long shard had lodged not upwards, but across under the surface of the ball of my right foot. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it. Kaisha had also jumped out and, sitting beside me, I pushed the shard upwards while she dug around with her fingernails until she could grab and extract it. 

Less than ideal. I sat there with a napkin pressed to my foot, trying to stem the flow of blood. A waiter approached me, looking concerned. He glanced at my foot and said, "Do you want another drink?" I was confused, as I thought my bleeding foot was rather obvious. "No, could I have a bandaid please?" He left and returned with a napkin. Close enough, I guess.

This concluded the night for me. I put my shoes on and with Kaisha I hobbled my back to the room, stopping for a quick dip in the forbidden pool. When I took off my shoe, the inside and my sock was red with blood, and I cleaned it best I could. Water to hydrate, then bed.


18 May
I had decided to go snorkelling this morning in the Red Sea, which in hindsight probably wasn't one of my better decisions. My sliced up foot was now rather sore and, with the cut being on the ball of my foot, made walking rather difficult (especially when it was filling with gritty sand). I also had some difficulty with the snorkel and putting my face under the water - every time I had a panic attack and I can't quite fathom what was going on as I snorkelled a lot while I was in Vanuatu and New Caledonia. I think it may have been the fact the water was a little rough. Either way, it was a beautiful day, the ocean and the glass bottom boat were fascinating - we saw a lot of fishies and even more wiggly jellyfish…

We were back on the road again. This afternoon we visited a perfumery which made "flower essence" perfumes. I was a little skeptical that it was another front of a business like they do in India, and I'm still reasonably convinced it was, but never-the-less the perfumes smelt divine and I bought myself one as I do not own any perfume. Now I can casually say, "Oh this? I bought this in Egypt, it's made out of flower essence…" 

On the road again, now to Luxor. I took myself off to bed reasonably early as I had a 3am start the next day.

So many pretty bottles!

19 May
Today was the day I was looking forward to the most. Today I was going to be going up up up in a hot air balloon. About twenty of us departed with sleepy eyes across the river on a cute little ferry where they gave us tea, before piling into a big basket. My hands were shaking, and my fear of heights was at the forefront. I prepared myself for the take off when…

Nothing.
No jolt, no lurch, just a gentle, slow ascent into the stratosphere.  It was calm and peaceful, despite the occasional burst of flames into the basket.

Pretty pleased with myself and holding on tight

The view was beautiful. On the left, desert. We could see the Valley of the Kings from here. Beneath us was fertile green farm land. To our right, the Nile and the rising sun, and on the other banks the city could be seen in the morning light. Three very distinct landscapes all in one view - breathtaking. A few other hot air balloons ascended into the sky, silhouetted against the sunrise.

After some time floating up and down and over the river, it was time to land. We landed very suddenly in a farm yard in a tiny patch of un-cultivated land - I'm still impressed the hot air balloon operator could navigate so perfectly! - and waited for the hot air balloon crew to find us to let us out of the basket. While we waited, the man's family and many children came out to look at us, at this odd spectacle of people emerging from a basket in their backyard.

Desert, green and city

It was a beautiful start to what was going to be a long and uncomfortable day. We returned to the resort for breakfast before setting out to see the Colossi of Memnon, two giant seated statues that have sat there for 3400 years. Today was hot. Very hot, and I was quite glad to get back on the bus again.

Our next stop was the Valley of the Kings, where pharaohs were buried in elaborate tombs during the 16th-11th century BC. The most notable pharaohs found here were King Tutankhamun and Ramesses II. No photos could be taken, but it was a privilege to be able to descent under the ground and see the magnificent tombs. 

The walls, for thousands of years, have remained largely untouched and bright coloured paint adorned the hundreds of hieroglyphics that covered every single available space on the wall. The ceilings were painted too, often dark blue with twinkling stars, or elaborate works of art that told the circle of life.  The colour captured my attention - I had only ever seen hieroglyphics carved into the stone, but we learned that in ancient times they were all brightly painted. It was amazing to see it in colour here as it would have looked thousands of years prior. 

I was flagging by lunch time, but before we ate, we visited the Temple of Queen Hatshepsut - a temple I would have paid more attention to had I been feeling better. She was the first female pharaoh but as women were not allowed to rule, she was acknowledge as a king. As a result, her statues depict her female face on a male body. Kudos to girl power! At her temple I nearly blacked out from the heat and lack of food and water, and was extremely pleased when it was time for lunch.

Lunch was delicious but it turned out to be my downfall. By the mid-afternoon, my whole body ached and my skin was sore to touch. That night I was to be sleeping on the cruise ship set to sail for the next 3 days. I was feeling very, very bad but decided to still head out to the Nubian family dinner, one of the optional extras. Again, hindsight dictates that I should not have gone as I continued to decline; I could not eat any of the delicious food they prepared, although I have a bit of a cuddle with a baby crocodile.

My next few days I was even more thankful to be on the cruise ship, and I progressively became thinner and weaker.

To be continued - read Part 2 here.

xx




Wednesday 1 July 2015

Summer of Fun: Greece


Greece 9 May - 15 May
Foreword
This won't be my usual rambling tale (Hooray! I hear you cry.) Simply because if I wrote this like I normally do, then I would have approximately 30 blog posts and they would never get done. So here are some highlights of my summer of fun. Starting with Greece.

Edit: I visited Greece in the weeks before their financial crisis came to a head. It is a beautiful country with a rich and varied history, so you can help them out here.

My Greece trip consisted of a couple of days in Athens by myself on either end of a Contiki Spotlight on Greece tour. This tour was marketed as not being quite like the usual party-oriented Contiki's, but more of a cultural experience. While I can't deny that I enjoy the party lifestyle, this Spotlight tour was exactly what I wanted to do - to see the Ancient Greece that I had studied and fallen in love with during my final year at high school.

10 May
My first day alone in Athens was spent sitting in a cafe, eating the most delicious fresh Greek salad I have ever encountered and having my wine refilled while birdies tried to fly off with my bread. I felt like a Disney princess. I sat here and felt inspired - I wrote and wrote on my phone. The day was warm, the people friendly; I felt good.

I haggled down a skirt from €25 down to €10, simply because that's all the cash I had on me. I bought another brooch and returned to the hostel for happy hour. I whittled the night away chatting with a couple of Canadians before dinner (which involved me forgetting my bank card and having to leg it back to the hostel) and heading to bed - on the morrow the tour would start and I was booked in to meet up with some folks early.



11 May
The one thing Google Maps doesn't tell you is incline. 

That's my gripe of the day. So the next morning, when Google Maps said the walk to the new hotel was 2.6km, I thought "Sure! That's about half an hour, I'll be fine." Shouldering my 12kg backpack and my other smaller backpack, I set off.

Up. Fucking. Hill.

Needless to say I was a sweaty, puffed mess when I introduced myself to the first folk of the tour. After catching my breath, we spent the morning in the National Archaeological Museum, the significance of which I didn't realise until a day later.

We spent some time in the gold and jewellery and statues section, but decided to forgo the vase section for lunch. Another greek salad for me before returning to the hotel to check in. Note: Hotel.  None of this #hostellyf business for me! I'm doing this shiz in style. Here I met my two room mates Paula and Monique, who would be putting up with me for the next 4 days. The rest of the night consisted of meeting the remaining 40-odd Contikiers and eating, drinking and Greek dancing the evening away.

Glass of vino in hand, I promised to drink the rest for breakfast in the shower, and I did not disappoint (it was vile, just so you know).

12 May
Our first day was jam packed and on the bus at 7.30am. Our first stop was the first modern Olympic Stadium built for the 1896 Games before moving on to the Acropolis to visit the Parthenon. The traffic was dreadful due a transport strike, and so there were a lot of people at the Acropolis when we arrived. 

Today's weather took a turn for the worst, and it was cold and so windy we were all terrified we'd be blown right off the top of the crest. Most of the Parthenon, the ancient temple dedicated to the goddess Athena, was under scaffolding as they worked to both reconstruct and reinforce the structure. 

Here's my big tip for Athens: do not take photos of your stuffed meerkat at the Parthenon. As much as you might really want to whip out your meerkat, do not, I repeat DO NOT.

It's not every day that one gets chased by an angry Greek policeman, yelling at you in what only sounded like Greek (lol), trying to drag you in the opposite direction away from your group. I broke free of his grip on my arm and legged it towards where the tour guide was standing.

"Help! Excuse me! I don't know what he's saying! Everyone else is taking selfless!"

You see, I didn't realise the toy was the issue. I thought I wasn't supposed to take selfless and I couldn't understand when there were so many people around me striking a pose. The tour guide half laughed and explained to me that pictures of "symbols" couldn't be taken in front of the structure, then explained to the policeman that I hadn't known, and then had me delete the photo off my phone. He walked away in a huff, while I had a panic attack.

I was quite pleased to get away from the Acropolis, to be honest. The experience had completely shaken me and Shazza didn't make an appearance for the rest of the trip.


Next stop was the Corinth Canal, a man-made passage way carved through the land to save ancient ships from having to sail all the way around the coast, effectively reducing the travel by 700km. It was first attempted in 3BC by Nero with a golden pickaxe but finally completed in 1881. These days, ships are far too big to go through, which seems like a bit of wasted effort.

Back on the bus for the long drive to Mycenae, where we stood inside the suspected tomb of Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, brother of Menelaus and he who commanded the Greeks to fight the Trojan War. This was an exciting moment for me, as I had studied so much about Odysseus and Agamemnon - if this was indeed his grave, it was his wife, Clytemnestra, who put him there. 

Across the way were the ruins of an ancient castle and the oldest in-place motif in Europe; two majestic lions, dating back to 1300BC. The view here over the valleys was breathtaking, despite the breeze trying to sweep us away, and I could imagine a king surveying his kingdom from this vantage point. All those artefacts I had seen the day before in Athens had been uncovered here, and I strained my memory to remember the golden masks and jewellery and imagine them buried beneath the ground.


This was an exhausting day where loads was packed in. We stopped at a sleepy little town called Nafplion where I ate an enormous fish platter (sharing it with my little kitty friend that joined us!) before the long drive to Olympia, where we would be staying for the night.

13 May
Today was my favourite day of the tour. We had an early and lovely cool start to head to the ancient site of the Olympic Games (although if they knew they were considered 'games', they would be rolling in their graves!). The Games were held every 4 years from the 8th century BC to the 4th century AD.

The Games began almost almost 3000 years ago. Let that sink in for a moment. It was a time of complete peace - all wars were to stop for the months preceding the Games, and were meant to be symbolic of the countries waging battle in a sportsmanlike fashion instead. 

They were also naked. And oiled up.

We started with the Museum, where the remaining relics were housed. Enormous marble statues dedicated to gods, goddesses and winners. 

Olympia had a beautiful tranquil feel to it. Maybe it was because we arrived early in the morning before it was too overrun by people, but the cool early morning air, the overgrown trees and grass around the partially reconstructed ruins made me feel at ease. Through a passageway, we could see the entrance to the running track - this is the entrance where the Olympians stripped themselves naked and ran in to the cheers of over 40 thousand  adoring [male] fans - no women allowed, of course. Although - interestingly enough, the ancient Greeks were ahead of their time. There was a separate, albeit much smaller, athletic games held for women by women to also allow them to compete.


We ran onto the field; the running track surprised me by being straight, not circular. The hills raised high on each side and at each end were marble blocks with grooves - these were the starting blocks.

A race along the 200m track, an almost wheezing asthma attack and a lamenting of my lost fitness later, and it was time to explore the rest of the ruins around Olympia. We were able to walk inside the house of the esteemed statue maker, we rounded the pillars of the Temple of Zeus and I cartwheeled in the ancient gymnasium (although very clothed, and very female). I silently thanked the Gods for cartwheeling without injury. The day grew progressively hotter, and it was time to say farewell to Olympia.


Lunch was a delicious share table with dolmades, baked cheese, greek salad and I had the moussaka for the main. Amazing! Next up, after a long, sleepy drive crossing the Rion Antirion Bridge, we stopped in Nafpaktos for an iced chocolate and a sit on the pebbly beach. We could have stayed here all day, it was so peaceful.

Another sleepy drive (the bus temperature was always quite warm, and I instantly dozed off every time I was on there!) to the little town of Galaxidi where we popped into a Greek Othadox Church with the most brilliant blue ceiling and adored with idols - very unlike other Catholic churches, before eating a chocolate orgy ice-cream (the irony isn't lost on me).

This was our last night together, and we were spending it in Delphi. We drove up and up and up, and up some more until at last we arrived at a little town nestled amongst the mountains. If I had thought the view spectacular before, this simply blew it away. Green rolling hills, pink sky, hazy blue ocean on the horizon. We all got dressed up nice and fancy like and headed to the club to dance the night away.


A little note of caution: some places in Greece like to free-pour. And I mean start pouring, turn around for a conversation, and return back to the drink to put a splash of soft drink in the top. I'm talking gag-worthy strong. It was a late night followed by an early start.

14 May
Delphi - our guide was running on Greek "ish-time" (I'll be there at 8ish, it'll be ready in half-an-hour-ish) and arrived quite late. This meant that we were whisked at an alarming pace through the now-filled-to-capacity museum housing many of the statues and relics found when they unearthed Delphi, dedicated to Apollo.

While not as affecting as Olympia the day before, it was not hard to see why Delphi was considered the naval of the world; nestled amongst the mountains and jagged rocks, one could see for miles. I stood in awe at the uncovered rock whereupon the priestess would have perched on her tripod, high as a kite off the fumes below, prophesying the lives of kings and peasants alike. This was the Oracle of Delphi, that changed the fates of men both real and mythical.


I ran my fingers gently across the inscriptions as we left (very naughty of me); the stones felt cool under the beating sun, and we made our way from Ancient Delphi.

Here I had the most incredible food of the trip: a greek salad cheesecake. If you ever see one of these on the menu, get it. It's not sweet, rather it's a giant crouton, with whipped feta cheese and the normal greek salad ingredients diced on top. It was life-changing.


We then had the long drive ahead of us back to Athens, where we would be dropped off for those continuing on with other tours or those that were leaving there. I had one more full day in Athens, and so I was deposited near the square. Amanda, another girl and I decided to grab a gyros. A gyros is one of the most fantastic food creations of all time. It is like the yiros we all know and love, but with the most delicious sauces and THE CHIPS INSIDE THE WRAP. 

I wandered for a while before returning to the hostel, completely exhausted.

15 May
This was my last day in Greece and it was a lazy one. I spent some time getting to know an older lady from the US who had uprooted her life to travel the world for a few years. For lunch, I was salespersoned into eating at a restaurant - at the same time a young gentleman passed so I said that if he wanted to chat he was more than welcome to join me.

We spent lunch talking about writing, drawing and dreams. It was fascinating. I do not remember his name nor did we exchange details, but it was a delightful conversation to be having in the middle of Athens.

I had another lovely interaction with an older lady in a little hole-in-the wall shop. As I paid for my item, she asked "Did your father pay for your holiday?"
"No," I replied hesitantly, "I paid for my holiday," not quite sure how to explain that this was all self funded and quite normal in Australia.
"Your mother," she continued, "Must miss you very much?"
"Yes," still a little puzzled, "but she encourages me to see the world."
"Oh!" the lady laughed, putting her hands to her face like she was crying, "very different here! Do not go! Do not leave! - we say." 

It is fascinating the different family structures around the world, isn't it?

It was time to leave Greece for the next leg of my journey: Egypt.


xx