That one difference

One of the joys of traveling is seeing all the different ways of thinking and doing things other people in other places have.  It can be interesting, frustrating, terrifying, or hilarious - or a combination of all those.  These are some of those "one things" that struck me this spring in Greece and Turkey.

One of the most frustrating things about Greece (and possibly one of the things we found most humorous) was the fact that every site of interest (to tourists) was closed every Monday and after 3pm the rest of the week.  And when they said they were closed at 3, that really meant that they wouldn't allow anyone to enter after 2:30.  Now, I can understand wanting to have a day off, and I can understand the desire for a siesta...  But considering how huge tourism is in their economy, I feel like it would make sense to hire a couple more people for each site, so they could be open Mondays and maybe a little later in the afternoons.  The general (half-serious) consensus was that if Greece bothered to be a little more accommodating to its tourists, maybe it wouldn't be in quite so much economic trouble.

One thing that really struck me is how much of an international language English really is.  We met people from all over Europe, Asia, and the Americas, and English was always the common language used.  It struck me even more when people would ask where I was from.  The fact that I spoke English was not a dead give-away (and apparently to non-native speakers, accents aren't as readily distinguishable).  Sometimes in Turkey men wanting attention for their shop or restaurant would inquire as to our country of origin and then begin offering guesses.  To my surprise, some of the most common guesses were Irish or Australian.  We didn't usually bother to correct them.  It was a pleasant surprise to not be immediately tagged as American.

One of the funniest (and most annoying) parts of Turkey was their election process.  Here in America we vote for the guy who can sling the most mud at his opponent.  Apparently, in Turkey, they vote for the guy who can blare the loudest music from vans making their rounds of the larger cities.  Yes.  I know it sounds weird, but it's true.  Everywhere we went (Kushadasi, Istanbul, and Ankara, where we were when the election took place) we would see vans, plastered with the face of their candidate, blasting loud music as they made their rounds.  Once we even saw an armada: dozens of boats draped with flags and posters, rounding the Golden Horn.  Yes.  I will vote for you because you have boats.  And I like your music better.  Okay, I have to admit, I don't get it (and I didn't care for the loud music).  But really, it might be an improvement over a mud-slinging competition.

One occurrance that would never been seen in America took place when we were walking down by the Bosporus.  There was a bit of a traffic jam, probably caused by unruly election vehicles.  Traffic was at a stand still when we saw one man get out of his car, pop the trunk, grab a beer, and get back in the car.  (Apparently he then handed the beer to his companion, but still!)  I think I burst out laughing at that.

One word must, of course, be said about the call to prayer.  It was not a new experience for me to hear it five times a day.  However, the calls in Turkey were, in general, much more attractive than the calls I had heard in Israel.  Much more melodic.  There were, however, what we dubbed, "The Dueling Muezzins."  As one of the most famous mosques in the world, I suppose that muezzin of the Blue Mosque would want to stand out.  And, of course, in that area of Istanbul, there are several mosques in ear-shot of each other.  The Blue Mosque would start out, "Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar."  Except it would be more like "Allaaaaaaahuuuuuuu  Ikbaaaaaah-aaah-aaar, Aaaaaaaah-aaaah-llaaaah-aaaaaaaaahu Ikbaaah-aaaah-aaah-ah-ah-ah-aaaaar!"  But longer.  Once that first line was completed, that muezzin would pause and the muezzin from the nearest mosque would reply with the same line, but with more musical improvisation.  Back and forth they would echo.  Too loud to attempt to hold any sort of conversation.  Fortunately, they usually kept the total time to under ten minutes.  That was still quite long enough.  It got a little ridiculous.  Kind of like some worship bands in America.

One of the most randomly fun things was the birds that would fly above the Blue Mosque after dark (and to a lesser extent above Hagia Sophia).  I loved to sit and watch them circle in the lights.  It was a sad night when there was a power outage and the walk home past the Blue Mosque provided no circling birds.  

One food that deserves a special mention is, I think, durum cig kofte.  (Forgive the lack of accent marks and the like.)  From my understanding, this dish used to be made from finely chopped raw meat, but that practice has become more rare.  Now it seems to be made mainly from bulgar and maybe lentils or potatoes.  Totally vegetarian.  One night we were out wandering when we were approached by a vendor with some street food we hadn't seen before: some sort of wrap.  We asked him what it was and he said, "chicken."  We figured later that was probably the only English word he knew that would fit at all.  At any rate, we bought some and tried it out, delighted to find it rather spicy (a flavor distinctly lacking from Greek foods.)  It was, however, clearly NOT chicken.  We ran into it several more times on our trip, and eventually figured out what it was that we tried that night.  It even became one of our favorite cheap foods - a welcome change from doner.

One thing is certain: many more "one things" could be pointed out, but to sum up, "It was quite an experience."  

Public Transportation Abroad

Public transportation is still something of a novelty to me.  There are some places in American where there is decent public transportation, but Montana is not one of them.  With a population density of about 7 people per square mile, it just isn't practical.  Perhaps this lack of experience has warped me, because one my travels, I tend to be excited and entertained by the various modes of travel employed.

Of course, every trip (almost) starts on an airplane.  I've been on a number of airplanes, so the novelty has rather worn off.  Still, it's always a bit of an adventure: making connections, hoping for a nice seat partner, wondering if they'll serve anything to eat or drink…  You know the drill.  But the real adventure starts when you reach the airport of your destination. 

In my journey through Greece and Turkey I traveled by bus, barge, sailboat, ferry, airplane (again), bus, car, van, metro, train, bus, tram, dolmus (like a bus), and did I mention bus?  (I think that was most of them…)

Buses were the most common mode of transportation we used, and were used to cover the largest distances.  A shocking number of my memories are from these many buses. 

I think we first used public buses in Greece.  Our first really memorable experience there was trying to find the bus station in Athens.  If anyone knew where it was, they weren't able to explain it well, and I couldn't find it on a map.  "Take this bus to this stop and then walk to this street" or "take the metro here and then catch this bus" was the closest we got…and as we didn't understand or even read Greek (at least not quickly enough to recognize stops and streets), we opted to take a taxi.

When we finally got to the station, I made sure to mark it on my map.  Coordinates: 38.010118N and 23.722913E 

Once we found the bus station, the rest of that trip (to Delphi) went relatively smoothly. 

Our bus in Athens, once we finally found the station

The bus driver even announced a 10 minute stop in English.  I think that may have been the only English I heard on a bus (in the form of an announcement) over the course of the trip.

The lovely view inside a bus

Once in Delphi we at least knew where the bus station was, but it was also small and had a very limited number of buses leaving each day, and, to top it off, it was closed the only time we tried to go there to ask for information.  Nevertheless we managed to leave the day we intended.  We had an unexpected bus change (and no warning or explanation for us stupid tourists), but we managed to get (and stay) on the right bus.  (This, of course, resulted in the adventure recounted here: To the Home of the Gods)


Being dropped on a highway exit still ranks as one of the worst moments of the trip.  Still, we survived.  But the next day we took a train.

Arriving at the Litochoro exit ramp

The next bus experience was our flight from Thessaloniki to Istanbul.  We had begun to be afraid that we would never find a way to leave Greece, so when we finally found a bus that went to Istanbul, we made quick use of it.  Purchasing tickets ended up being a bit of a fiasco, but once we were on the bus (which was run by a Turkish company) things started to improve.  The journey started with a beverage service (tea and coffee).  It was the first time I had ever been served drinks on a public bus.

It was an uncomfortable journey in general, but that's to be expected when you're on a bus all night, unable to sleep well, and making frequent stops to pick up passengers, have bathroom breaks, and go through border crossings.

Our first stop inside Turkey.  They seemed to like to wash the bus at every possible place.  

We took several other buses in Turkey, some big, some little, some local, some cross-country, some during the day, and some at night.

Departing the Denizli bus station on our way to Istanbul - our last night bus.

Night trips were always exhausting, but saved on time and money (didn't have to pay for a hostel those nights!) Some bus experiences were better than others, but none were as bad as the Delphi-Litochoro run. 

 Our longer bus rides were from Istanbul to Goreme, Goreme to Ankara, Ankara to Antalya, and then Denizli back to Istanbul. We used a number of different companies, but the experiences were much the same.
  1. There were personal TV monitors in the back of every chair. Every seat would have (or be given) headphones and you could select which channel you wished to watch. Some of the movies were even American, though, of course, they had been dubbed over in Turkish. Still, I ended up watching "Up!" about one and a half times on one journey, and it was entertaining even without understanding the words. Other recognizable shows were "Ice Age 3" and "Smurfs." Most of the other shows seemed to be Turkish in origin.

There was usually a "bus-cam" channel too, so you could watch the progress the bus was making as the driver saw it.  

  2. They would offer a snack and beverage service every few hours. Sometimes we got ice cream, sometimes cookies or crackers or cakes, along with tea or coffee or cola. This would happen about 1-3 times, depending on the length of the journey.

  3. They would stop about every 3 hours for a bathroom/food break. These tended to be rather frustrating and inconvenient, for a variety of reasons.
     i. They would usually be too soon (because you were just starting to fall asleep) or too late (because you'd already needed to pee for about an hour).
     ii. They never told us (in English, at least) how long we were going to be at each stop. So stops generally ranged from 10 minutes to 1 hour…we didn't want to wander too far, just in case it was short, but the longer ones seemed quite excessive. How long do you need to use the bathroom, purchase/eat food, and smoke several cigarettes to make up for the last three hours?
     iii. They were usually at gas station type places in the middle of nowhere…which meant that there were no options and they could charge whatever they wanted for everything. Bathrooms were usually extra (a lira or so, which did not guarantee that they would be clean or have TP). Food was, of course, vastly overpriced.

 More local buses and dolmuses we used around Goreme, Ankara, and from Antalya to Olympos to Finike to Pammukale. They also had some similar characteristics.

Riding a bus around Ankara.

  1. They tended to be rather crowded. Not too surprising, but sometimes it was a bit of a challenge fitting two extra bodies and their luggage (small though it was) aboard.

We had to share a tiny rear-facing bench on this bus to Olympus.  I was squeezed against the door and was afraid I would fall out every time the driver opened it.  

   2. The drivers (and passengers) seem to have something against using AC and/or opening windows. Sometimes they would turn on enough air for you to just start feeling comfortable…and then it would be gone again. It made for long, sweaty rides.

  3. Since we hadn't really been to any of the places where we were going, it was a bit of adventure going, stopping, and wondering if this was our stop or not? Should we get off here? I think so…but… Oddly enough, it was times like this that having a GPS along was most handy.


 Yes, all in all, we road quite a lot of buses. I feel like I rather became an expert on Turkish buses.  Someday I hope to go back and see more of the beautiful scenery that flashed by my window as we journeyed on those buses.

Sunrise from the bus window as we made our way back to Istanbul.  

Narnian Adventures

Something that I have found to be true in my own life is that just about any adventure you have can be, in some form or another, related to one or more of the Chronicles of Narnia (or to one of C. S. Lewis' other books).  On my lastest adventure I was accompanied by a fellow adventurer who loves Lewis almost as much as I do, and it was not uncommon for references to be made to the books and similarities pointed out.  For your literary enjoyment, I will point out a few of those similarities here.  

     Lucy was, of course, barefoot, having kicked off her shoes while swimming, but that is no hardship if one is going to walk on downy turf.  It was delightful to be ashore again and to smell the earth and grass, even if at first the ground seemed to be pitching up and down like a ship, as it usually does for a while if one has been at sea.  It was much warmer here than it had been on board and Lucy found the sand pleasant to her feet as they crossed it.  There was a lark singing.

    They struck inland and up a fairly steep, though low, hill.  At the top, of course, they looked back, and there was the Dawn Treader shining like a great bright insect and crawling slowly northwestward with her oars.  Then they went over the ridge and could see her no longer.

    Doorn now lay before them, divided from Felimath by a channel about a mile wide; behind it and to the left lay Arva.  The little white town of Narrowhaven on Doorn was easily seen.

~The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Chapter 3

When one spends time on a sailboat, one cannot help but draw comparisons to the Dawn Treader.  We felt, as Lucy, the delight of being on shore again after a few days on the boat - though the solid ground did feel funny.  I even like to imagine that Lewis modeled some of his islands after the Greek Islands: grassy hills, more goats than people (on some), white towns, and from the tops of those hills, a view of our boat, shining in the harbor.  We failed to meet pirates, sea-serpents, or dragons, but we did experience stormy weather, a damaged boat, and limited water rations.

     I had been wandering for hours in similar mean streets, always in the rain and always in evening twilight.  Time seemed to have paused on that dismal moment when only a few shops have lit up and it is not yet dark enough for their windows to look cheering.  And just as the evening never advanced to night, so my walking had never brought me to the better parts of the town.  However far I went I found only dingy lodging houses, small tabacconists, hoardings from which posters hung in rags, windowless warehouses, goods stations without trains, and bookshops of the sort that sell The Works of Aristotle.  I never met anyone. 

~The Great Divorce,  Chapter 1

"How did you like Athens?" has been a common question over the past month or so since I left Athens.  The best answer I've found is a comparison I made while there: it reminds me of the grey town in The Great Divorce.  The historical sites are great, but the modern town itself...  It's kind of dirty, covered with graffiti, the streets go on an on, each with a few of the same little dingy shops open (but more places closed than open), and as far as you walk, nothing changes, and you never get to a better part of town.  It's not eternally raining and not eternally twilight, but apart from that, the description fits pretty well.

     At first Shasta could see nothing in the valley below him but a sea of mist with a few domes and pinnacles rising from it; but as the light increased and the mist cleared away, he saw more and more.  A broad river divided itself into two streams and on the island between them stood the city of Tashbaan, one of the wonders of the world.  Round the very edge of the island, so that the water lapped against the stone, ran high walls strengthened with so many towers that he soon gave up trying to count them.  Inside the walls the island rose in a hill, and every bit of that hill, up to the Tisroc's palace and the great temple of Tash at the top, was completely covered in buildings: terrace above terrace, street above street, zigzag roads or huge flights of steps bordered with orange trees and lemon trees, roof gardens, balconies, deep archways, pillared colonnades, spires, battlements, minarets, pinnacles.  And when at last the sun rose out of the sea and the great silver-plated dome of the temple flashed back its light, he was almost dazzled.  

~The Horse and His Boy, Chapter 4

Apparently Lewis modeled Calormen after Turkey.  I have to say that I liked Turkey quite a lot, while no one, probably not even Calormens, like Calormen.  That aside, similarities can still be seen, and this discription of Tashbaan sounds a lot like what I imagine the Golden Horn of Istanbul was like during the time of the Ottomans.  A walled hill, surrounded by water (not quite an island), topped by Topkapi palace and mosques instead of the temple.

It is also worth noting that "aslan" is the Turkish word for "lion" and thus it was not uncommon to come across places like "Aslan Tourism" or "Aslan Cafe."

     But it was a queer city.  The lights were so few and far apart that they would hardly have done for scattered cottages in our world.  But the little bits of the place which you could see by the lights were like glimpses of a great seaport.  You could make out in one place a whole crowd of ships loading or unloading; in another, bales of stuff and warehouses; in a third, walls and pillars that suggested great palaces or temples; and always, wherever the light fell, endless crowds: hundreds of Earthmen....The City was as quiet, and nearly as dark, as the inside of an anthill.  

~The Silver Chair,  Chapter 10

The underground city we visited in Cappadocia was nothing like the one described here, being merely a series of tunnels, rooms, and passage ways - nothing like a cave large enough to contain a whole city.  Still, one could get a sense of what a relief it must have been for Jill, Eustace, Puddleglum, and Rilian to find themselves above ground, free to move and breath, rejoicing in the light of the sun and moon.  Apparently there are around 100 such underground cities all around that region of Turkey.  It's hard to imagine that many people living that deep underground, buried alive with all their animals, self-sufficient in their caves for long enough to avoid whatever enemies troubled them.  

     Pressing their way between the laden branches they reached the wall.  It was very old, and broken down in places, with moss and wallflowers growing on it, but it was higher than all but the tallest trees.  And when they came quite close to it they found a great arch which must once have had a gate in it but was not almost filled up with the largest of all the apple trees.  They had to break some of the branches to get past, and when they had done so they all blinked because the daylight became suddenly much brighter.  They found themselves in a wide open place with walls all around it.  In here there were no trees, only level grass and daisies, and ivy, and gray walls.  It was a bright, secret, quiet place, and rather sad; and all four stepped out into the middle of it, glad to be able to straighten their backs and move their limbs freely.

~Prince Caspian, Chapter 1

Visiting the ruins at Olympos felt almost as if we'd stumbled upon the ruins of Cair Paravel.  The sun soaked stones, overgrown with trees and vines, stood near the sea, abandoned and unused for centuries.   We kept expecting to find a treasure room and have to rescue a dwarf from some hostile Telmarines.  Instead, the most threatening creature we came across was a large toad.  

     Tirian looked and saw the queerest and most ridiculous thing you can imagine.  Only a few yards away, clear to be seen in the sunlight, there stood up a rough wooden door, and round it, the framework of the doorway: nothing else, no walls, no roof.  He waled toward it, bewildered, and the others followed, watching to see what he would do.  He walked round to the other side of the door.  But it looked just the same from the other side: he was still in the open air, on a summer morning.  The  door was simply standing up by itself as if it had grown there like a tree.  

~The Last Battle, Chapter 13

Here and there, wandering around ancient ruins, one will happen across something like this: the walls and ceiling crumbled away years ago, but the doorway is still standing (though usually not with a door still hung in it).  Though you know it doesn't go anywhere, it's hard not to imagine that it might be a door to other worlds - maybe even to Aslan's country!

To the home of the gods

Have you ever traveled by bus in Greece?  Yeah, neither had I.  Now, having experience it, I can say that it is the only way to experience Greece in all its glory.  And by glory, well, I mean more discomfort and inefficiency and, yeah, that sort of thing.  I don't mean to complain, but I don't think I've ever had to pay more for a less enjoyable experience in my life.  Well, drilling cavities might compete.  I suppose it could have been worse, but...the day went something like this:

It seemed like a reasonable proposal: head to Thessaloniki by way of Mount Olympus/Litohoro.  In hind sight...

The bus was late.  Maybe that should have warned us.  (That and the outrageous ticket prices.)  But it was only 15 minutes late, and it is Greece, after all.   At least this time we didn't have to wander the streets of Athens searching for the bus station. 

Still, the bus came and we dutifully piled onto it and began our decent down the mountain.  We paused various places, picking up and dropping off passengers as we went.  

We stopped in Amfissa, where, we eventually found out, we were supposed to change buses.  Nice of them to mention it.  

On the next bus we headed out again, still hopeful that we would make it to Litohoro before nightfall, but a little uncertain as to how many more unexpected bus changes we might have to make.  

At least the scenery was beautiful.  

Another stop...in Lamia...but eventually we figured out we were to stay on the same bus.  A little disappointing, considering how unhelpful the driver was...and how little he liked to use the fan or AC.  (So hot!)

We stopped again near Larisa and finally had a bathroom break.  

Now, at this point, I should explain something.  I've never been in Greece before.  Thus, I've never been to Litohoro (our ticket destination) before.  It may be surprising, in light of this, that I had no idea what to expect.  I barely knew where Litochoro was on the map, and I had a vague understanding that the hostel we booked was near it.  In retrospect, I should have studied several maps of everything before embarking.  I also should have modified my expectations of the bus to actually take us there.  

It went something like this.  We were on a highway, about an hour after passing Larissa, when the bus driver actually made an announcement: "Litohoro!"  We started gathering our things.  The bus slowed to a stop...near an exit...on a two lane highway...with no town apparently anywhere near.  They let us off and gave us our bags and drove away.  

....Uh...thanks?  But where's the town?  Where are we?  Where do we go from here?  We figured walking up the exit would at least take us in the right direction...

"Litohoro, 5km" the first sign stated.  A 5km hike uphill with a 30lb pack on a warm day was a daunting prospect, to say the least.  We trudged to a nearby gas station hoping to ask directions, when suddenly a man pulled over and offered us a ride.  Gratefully, we accepted and he dropped us off a few minutes later in Litohoro.  A quick lunch of gyros helped further boost our lowered morale.  

It was about then that we found out that our hostel was by the sea - back in the direction we came from.  *sigh*  There was nothing to do but laugh, thank God for kind people, and regroup.  We debating waiting for a bus or walking.  Taxis were out of the price range.  In the end, we walked: 7.67 kilometers we walked, until we finally found our hostel.  (That plus the walking we'd already done puts us over 5 miles.) 

At least there's a good view of the Mediterranean and Mount Olympus.  And good food and hot showers.  

Yeah, it was quite a day.  But reflecting on it (after the class I just took) makes me think of the Apostle Paul.  He had to walk everywhere (unless he was sailing).  And he probably had his fair share of unhelpful people (like the bus driver) and helpful people (like the man in the car and the girl at the hostel).  He probably had good days of relatively easy travel, and bad days when nothing seemed to go right.  And yet, somehow, he learned to be content in every circumstance.  Lord teach us that contentment!

Just for fun, this is approximately our route from bus station to hostel (7.67km).

Aphrodite

Panting, we raced through the tall grass, ever upward.  Thorns poked at our bare hands and legs, and rocks inserted themselves in our shoes as we thrust ourselves through the thick growth.  Still we pressed on, startling grasshoppers with our rough passage.  Finally the top was in sight.  We leaped and scrambled over the last rocks, finally arriving at our destination: the Corinthian Temple of Aphrodite.  Centuries (even millennia) ago, worshipers had made the same trek, probably through less grass, but to the same destination with the same views of the isthmus of Corinth and the Aegean and Adriatic Seas on either side.

When Paul came to Corinth, did he make the climb up the mountain to the temple, just to see what he was up against?  When he worked at a tent maker and lived there for a year and a half, did he see the lines of worshipers making their way up to commune with their god?

Interestingly enough, in his letters Paul never specifically speaks against the worship of Aphrodite.  (Some of his sayings could apply, but that is not the same thing).  Instead, he shows them a better way.  "Love is patient, love is kind," he tells the Corinthians who, with that temple dominating their landscape, knew something of the value of love and had all longed for it at some point.  Paul affirms their value: "the greatest of these is love," but first he redefines it.  The love of God is not like the love of Aphrodite.  It's better.

That was probably the highlight of our day - the hike and the view from the top.  We also saw "lower" Corinth, which was pretty cool.  We saw the canal that now cuts through the isthmus.

And we saw Cenchrea, one of the ports that Paul sailed from.

Mars Hill

I figure by naming this post "Mars Hill" I'll probably double the amount of hits my blog gets.  The name seems to be very popular these days, what with all the church-type-organizations borrowing it.  But in reality, that is where  I started my day (or really, where I started the educational part of my day...I didn't wake up on Mars Hill, don't worry).

To recap, in the last week we have visited Samos, Patmos, Syros, and Kea on the Morning Star.  Yesterday we sailed (or rather, motored -- the wind has been on our nose pretty much the entire trip, and with a timeline to keep, sailing has been impossible) from Kea to Raphina where Hellenic Ministries graciously met us with vans and transported us to our hotel in Athens.  Saying good-bye to the boat and its crew was a little bittersweet...but it is nice to have daily hot showers, a regular twin-sized bed, and somewhat more regular mealtimes.  :)

This morning we walked from our hotel, past Omonia Square, and on to the area of ancient Athens, including Mars Hill where we stopped and talked for a while.  We were then given a list of sites to see and sent out on our own to see what we could.

I ended up with Michael, Ian, and Jeff, and the four of us decided to visit the New Acropolis Museum first.  It was a little overwhelming.  The number of artifacts seemed nearly infinite, some of them so similar and with so little context it was difficult to know what to look or how to process what you had seen.  I was probably most interested in the pottery and other little artifacts.  Some of them were very similar to things that have been found in and around Jerusalem, but in Israel such exquisite finds are much rarer.  Metal statues, for example, from around the same time have been found, but much fewer and in general not as well preserved.  The pottery was also striking, some of it from the 6th and 7th centuries BC (and some even earlier) was delicately formed and intricately painted.  In contrast, most of the pottery I've seen from Israel from those times is serviceable but not very attractive.  The ruins here are also much more spectacular than ruins from Israel dating to the same period.  Greece definitely achieved a higher level of art and craftsmanship earlier than Israel did.  I don't mean to exalt or condemn either culture, but the contrast really struck me.

After the museum we headed to the Acropolis, stopping at a couple places along the way, including the theater of Dionyses, which is quite possibly the oldest theater in the world.  Oedipus Rex may have premiered there.

We bought gyros for lunch and found that the Agora was closing and wouldn't let us in.  Instead we went to the Pnyx where Athenians had their democratic meetings.  Shortly after that we managed to find our way back to the hotel without getting lost...which was quite a feat.

Athens is quite a city.  The area around the acropolis is quite beautiful, and the booths selling things are as diverse as I've seen anywhere.  It felt a little more like a town fair (American Indians and all) than a city bazaar.  The area around our hotel is a little less beautiful, reminding me a bit of the "grey town" from The Great Divorce.  The streets just seem all pretty similar, lined with the same types of little shops, most of which seem to never be open.  It's an interesting place, but my bed calls, so for tonight...

More adventures

Wednesday, May 17th

This morning we went up to the monastery at Chora, a rather long and steep walk…so we took the bus up.  The monastery was, I believe, founded in about the 11th century.  Supposedly the island of Patmos had a big problem with pirates, so when pirate ships were seen, the monastery would sound the alarm and the people in the town surrounding it would flee into its protective walls.  

The fortress helped to keep them safe, as did the town itself, being rather maze-like.  By the time any pirates found their way through the town to the monastery, they were too tired and lost and separated to do any real damage. 

The monastery seems to have quite a lot of history, as demonstrated by it's museum which is full of manuscripts and icons from the 5th century on. 

From the monastery we made our way, individually and in groups, back to the boat for lunch.  Then we had free time until evening.  I went to the beach with a few fellow students and splashed in the cold water for a few minutes before basking in the warm sun.  Then I headed out to do a little exploring.  

I had seen a sign labeled "acropolis," and when I saw another one, I veered off the road I was on and headed up the hill.  Soon I ran out of road and into fields occupied by goats and people harvesting hay with sickles.  Thinking that I may have missed the path, and not wanting to disturb them, I headed back down the hill.  

Only to run into another sign, pointing at another route.  I figured I'd try again.  Up the hill I went.  The road changed to a path which ended at a church, which had gates.  But by then I was determined.  I climbed over a few low stone wall/terraces and bushwhacked my way up the hill, finally coming into sight of what was clearly the remains of a city wall.  Not many other ruins were visible (at least not ancient ones), but from the top the view of the island was spectacular. 

Thursday, May 19th

We left port at midnight (see previous post).  It was a beautiful night, at first anyway.  It got fairly windy and wavey after I had gone to bed.  I managed to not fall off my bunk, which I consider quite a feat, but I don't think anyone slept really well with the rolling and bouncing.  Some of the portholes leaked too, and I don't think my bunk was the only damp one come morning.  Of course, even when morning had come, our voyage wasn't over.  Dale constantly reassured us that it was only 'two hours more!' for about four hours.  Still, we did make it to port at Syros.  We were glad to tie up to the dock and find some relief from the constant motion.  We had a lovely lunch with some believers on the island and rested and worked on homework most of the afternoon.  

Tomorrow we continue on towards Athens, praying for good winds so we can sail.  

Samos and Patmos

The last two days have actually been spent on (and around) Greek Islands.  Not only that, but these specific Islands are actually mentioned in Acts.

Acts 20:15 mentions Paul "touching" at Samos before Miletus.  Samos is also (probably) the birth place of Pythagoras.  

On Monday we went from Turkey to Samos where we rented cars and spent the day exploring the Island.  Aside from the gorgeous views and other adventures, a highlight for me was telling a joke about Pythagoras in Pythagoria near the statue of Pythagoras.  

There are quaint Greek Orthodox churches every 10m or so.

And in general it was beautiful.  

This morning we got an early start and headed to Patmos.  We were going into the wind, and with our ship sailing wasn't possible, so we motored the whole way and made good time, arriving about 3:30. 

The trip itself was beautiful with clear blue waters, dolphins, and beautiful sailboats passing by.  

I also got to steer our ship for a while.  That was pretty cool.

At one point we were (roughly) on a collision course with another vessel (as the radar image sort of shows).  We didn't hit him, and he didn't hit us.  It was good.

Once on Patmos we climbed one of the many hills to visit the Cave of St. John.  This is supposedly where John was when he had his vision of Jesus.  It was interested to reflect on his circumstances.  He was forced to be separated from his church in Ephesus and near the end of his life.  He must have felt useless and probably wondered, as the last of the apostles, what would happen after his death?  Would the Kingdom of God prevail, or would the Kingdom of Rome swallow it up?  How encouraging to him this vision must have been.  Not only did it give him something useful to fill his days, but it reminded him that in the end God wins.

The island of Patmos is beautiful.  I think one of my favorite things, though, is the smell.  It's something of a mix between fresh mountain air and more tropical/oceanic smells.  We're spending the day here tomorrow as well, and I'm looking forward to seeing more of it.

Dear Diary,

In the good news, I'm beginning to feel more like I know my way around the boat (which, for those of youbon the know, is a Bermuda rigged staysail schooner.)  I've learned several knots, including the bowline, the clove hitch, and a couple others whose names are...irregular.

In the "bad" news, typical journal entries from people on the trip might look something like this:

Dear diary,
Bowsprit broke today. Seasick before it did. Hard bunk. Good food though. I may survive.

Dear diary,
Stuck in the little bay a couple more days. Scratched legs from a forced march through thorns. Outlook grim. Still now shower, though I took a dip in the sea.

Dear diary,
In spite of no shower for days, today we ran out of water.  Soooo thristy.  Soooo dirty.  Food and oxygen seem to be in good supply, but one is bound to run out next.

Dear diary,

We still have no bowsprit, no internet, we're out of water, I had to clean out the greasiest locker ever, I can't tie knots properly, and the puns are getting progressively more painful.  Mutiny looms large on the horizon.  

Dear diary,

Tonight we washed the dishes in the bilge buckets on the poop deck, sitting on ropes and the trash from the bathrooms.  All time low.  

In reality, though we often joke about our journal entries, and just about everything that can go wrong has, we're generally in good spirits.  I've probably laughed more today than I have in the past month.  Still, if you think of it, please pray that we are able to get our bowsprit fixed and reattached tomorrow so we can be on our way.  We've had some good discussions and class sessions, but we are eager to be on our way.  

And I'm off...

My reading for the past couple months has included books like these:

Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter

by Thomas Cahill

The Greco-Roman World of the New Testament Era: 

Exploring the Background of Early Christianity

by James S. Jeffers

Cities of God
by Rodney Stark

Sailing Acts

 by Linford Stutzman

And why, you may ask, have I been reading such books?  Well, for those of you who might not yet know, I am....

                          *drum roll, please*

                                                                 ....going to Greece and Turkey!

Yes, it's true.  I leave tomorrow and arrive in Athens on Thursday.  

Roughly the first three weeks will be spent on a sailboat, taking a class from the Linford Stutzman mentioned above.  The next month or so will be spent visiting as many sights in Greece and Turkey as I can get to.  (Have I mentioned that I'm kind of history and geography nerd?)  Unfortunately, my knowledge of this area's history and geography is sadly lacking, so I will be doing my best to remedy that lack.  

The map here shows a few sites of historical and/or biblical significance, many of which I hope to visit in the coming months.  

With an uncertain schedule and uncertain internet access, I don't know how often I will be able to update this blog, but I will do my best to upload pictures and stories whenever I can for those of you who want to pretend to sail with me. :)