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Ok I'm back here in Prague. Neither Martin, nor myself thought that we could ever miss a place so much. But considering the places we were it was a lot to give up. Now I'm not going to tell you the whole story here, I've not the patience to do that even if I thought I really could put it to words so soon. No, I'll just recap a few things and places for you.
We of course began here in Prague, CZ, but boarding a CSA jet here we blasted off toward Bulgaria, and its capitol city Sofia. We wanted to go to the Mediterranean, but all the return flights were full. So we decided that we could take a train to Istanbul, Turkey and work it that way. And I'd like to tell you that it was a very interesting train we took. 18hrs is a long ride. But let's get back to Sofia, and Bulgaria. We arrived early afternoon, Saturday. It was a good flight, they served us lunch and all. Czech Air is really, really good. After arriving and a little concern over what our guide book "Lonely Planet-Europe on a Shoestring" told us, which I can now tell you is at least 90% wrong about everything. The guide mentioned how dangerous the place was, how crime was rampant, and made it out that there were more places to avoid than to see. We not knowing any better took it to heart. But after 2 days there we soon realized that it was crap. Lonely Planet is a Crock, don't trust it. Now I'm also not going to tell you that Sofia was Disney Land either. It's the first place that I've really seen people scared by war, and disease. Beggars and all that. If you think you've ever seen poverty or suffering in the city's of America, come and see the worst of the worst here. It's a dark and mostly ugly city thanks to the Commies. Very dirty, the word "pollution" isn't adequate to sum it up. It's a city surrounded by mountains that hit 3000m, 9000Ft. easily but you can't see any more than a dim silhouette through the toxic clouds in, and over Sofia. It was bad enough that my nose bled from it. But we caught a night train to Istanbul after a night there. Now I've never been on any more than the morning and evening commuters of NJ Transit. This was an experience, and it made me question why we don't do it back home. Granted it was an 18 hour train, but I went across a country for like 20$! Turkey's countryside as it was night thought Bulgaria as we traveled, is pleasantly barren. Devoid of settlement and apart from the few fences and occasional shepherd and his flock, people too. Then the sea loomed up and we were skirting the waterfront as we came in to Istanbul.
Istanbul I would say is a very sensual city, and it is easy to see how St. Augistine had such troubles behaving himself. It's a city of the senses, from the calls to prayer, to the wood fires. The shoe making district and the smell of sweat and leather coming up from the work rooms. The grand bizarre and the thousands of voices, each with something that you can't live without. A nation of car salesmen who won't let you be as you'll never look like a Turk and have no chance of blending in. The food that is sweet and spicy and ancient monuments like the Hagia Sophia. So big that you could place the EC campus center inside without trouble. But also a nation of war, and poverty. After a few days in Istanbul we decided to head over to Greece. Once again via train, and we walked down to the station. All of the police in Istanbul carry a fully automatic weapon, like you might think that a SWAT team man might be issued. The have the picture of their national hero Mustafa on everything to the point that it looks like Orison Wells 1984 and the depiction of the Big Brother posters. Mustafa is watching everything, he is on all of the money coin and paper. He is at every official building as a portrait or a sculpture. We came to call him Doctor Evil, as before we found out his history that was how it looked. Heading toward Thessoloniki, Greece we rode on a noisy and bumpy Turkish Train. If you've ever had the urge to ride the Orient Express, just like in the old movies, you still can. Neither the train, nor the tracks have been updated! And so bouncing toward Greece we saw more of the Turkish country. This time on the way across we stopped in many villages. Each looking abandoned by the condition of the buildings. They looked like war zones from the train windows, yet people were always there in the dirt and filth. Some to get onto the train, some to get off, and some just to see the thing as it rolled by. One of the more interesting things that we saw as we made our way was a leather works. A complex of buildings that looked something out of Mad Max. Some of the buildings made of a type of cheap hollow brick used here, had holes and in completed or knocked down walls. Through these you could see men working. Fields of scrap hide I'm guessing laying out in the sun. Some green, and blue from the chemicals and decomposition. Long buildings roofed with tarps to dry the skins. And not one body of standing or running water that wasn't yellow with the chemicals, the color of mustard and rust. If hell exists I am sure we passed close by it on that train. Approaching a river we noticed a military base, and men training in the obstacle courses. As we hit the bridge Marty noticed Greek Flags painted on the bridge. We had reached the frontier, and the hatred of both these nations was evident. When we arrived in Greece on the other side of the water we were to give up our passports to boarder control and get off the train. The Greeks weren't going to allow the Turkish train to carry us all of the way, and we had to switch. It wasn't much of a station that the Greeks had set up. You wouldn't have know you were in Greece except for the flags and the words were now written in Greek. They had a nice little scam set up here where you could buy a supplement of 2200 GDK to get the train coming in one hour, or you could wait and use the ticket you had for 5 more hours and take the regular one. On top of all of this the only guy who would be changing money was also working the ticket window for the train station. So we got ripped off on the exchange rate. However the Supplemental train was an EC Euro Rail speed train. And German one, but it would made the ride to Thessoloniki another 7 hours away much better. As we puled out this was true, however shortly after passing through Alexandropoli we had to stop. Something was wrong with the tracks ahead and we all had to sit on the train for about 2-3 hours while that repaired it. The train was suppose to continue that night on to Athens, but due to the delays it would be staying in Thessoloniki and going on in the morning. It was like 4:00 when we arrives. Four in the morning, and we were tired and needed a place to stay. The first place was full no vacancy, but the next one and I'll only describe it as Fight Club had a room. Thessoloniki was expensive and the only redeeming part was that al of the monuments and history are big, so big that you can't put them into a building and charge admission! The rest of Thesoloniki was a lot of people with to much money and time. Here the population sits around in very expensive cafes, drinking extremely over priced coffee, most of the night, talking on their cell phones, and smoking their cigarettes. Then they all disappear around one or two of to the clubs. It's an obscene amount and display of wealth. Also it is an interesting juxtaposition with their profoundly religious nature. Every male carries a komboloi and plays with it. The little strings of beads, I've got one too. And their are churches and shrines everywhere to everything. Going into then they are always in use too! Very interesting mix of behavior, and I guess the only way to sum it up would be to say extreme.
This not really being our scene we were keen to get back aboard the train that would take us back to Sofia and home to Prague. Things being to expensive and trendy all most of the time I looked like a refugee anyway. It was too much money, so we hopped the next train after 3 days and headed north on a Bulgarian sleeper again. This one was heated with oil instead of coal "tre, tre" for the Greeks. Now this is where I really started having trouble with clean air. It took me about 2 weeks to adjust to the air here in Prague, coming from the country and all. My nose ran, and allergic reaction, nothing more. However the air in Sofia is perhaps the worst I've ever had to breath. And this train was not a good start to it. My nose ran until it bled, the air was so abrasive. And is still occasional bleeding here in Prague. However returning to the folds of the Slavic tribes was a good thing for both of us. We actually missed Sofia being in Thessoloniki and really missed Praha. In Sofia for the second time we really got to know the town, and it's not nearly as bad as every guide book makes it out to be. If you've got a brain in your head, you can do fine anywhere. We toured and saw the museums and monuments. Sofia had a better display on Hellenistic, relief sculpture than Thessoloniki did, but then again antiquity wasn't their strong suit. No being back in Sofia was a good thing this time. A little closer to the center of Europe, and still Eastern. Here the legacy of Communism was obvious in what it did to and not for these people. They live in a squalor rather than a city, and seeing the civic center you've seen it all. Aside from a few main streets in the center of the city the rest of Sofia is a shamble, and even on these streets you can see the obvious disrepair and apathy towards things. Packs of dogs roam the streets of Sofia in search of a handout. Down in the markets you can walk among the stalls selling everything that grows under the sun. Get fresh cuts of meat, you pick out right in the street. Like Turkey full of sights and smells, but out of place and they are mostly bad here. In the main park the monument raised by the Communists still stands against the protest of the Sofians. However they thought it would make a good reminder of what was and so never tore is down. Instead it has been taken over by the local skate boarders and roller bladers. Here now in the noon day shadows there is a sheet metal halfpipe about a 12 footer. Several smaller kicker ramps, and an assortment of pipes and other objects added to the square and almost ideal Soviet architecture to skate on.
And from there we headed out, back on board another 737-500 to Prague. A passport full of stamps again, and one more getting in to Rushyne airport, it was good to be home at last. Marty and I deciding that a little Czech cooking was in order we headed out to the local hospudka and had some Schnitzel and beer. A trip well concluded.
With such experiances that I now think that such travel should be undertaken by all. America would be a much greater place if Americans knew about a world outside of theirs. And not that I don't think I took advantage of my opertunity to learn about the outside world in school. Nothing teaches you about your world like actual experiance in a world so far from you own.And I returned to a Prague that still hadn't heard that sofia was bombed twice while I wasa there, and that the USA still didn't have a president.