On Strike, Weird Meat and Other Views in Athens

 Athens' Banks closed their doors on December 15th, 2010. Angry protestors painted the town in destruction setting fire to heaps of garbage, smashing car windows, bus shelthers and telephone booths. Marble slabs and stone were shattered from bulidngs and monuments leaving the streets in rubble and ruin. The week would see media and transportation strikes leaving the city in mayhem.  It was mass exodus as locals waited on sidewalks with their packed suitcases and bags of belongings for allocated coach buses, operating only at night, to transport people out of Athens.

 Athens airport traffic controllers went on strike for 24 hours leaving hundreds of flights cancelled, including ours to Istanbul. Hundreds of angry workers (and tourists) took to the streets. Minutes after this picture was taken the angry crowd began throwing molotov cocktails at police who responded with tear gas.

 Transportation strikers take to the streets of Athens on December 14th. The strike would leave the streets in covered in a sea of yellow. Cabbies were having their hayday.

 

Police lined the streets in riot gear bearing sheilds, guns, battons and gas masks 

With the government capping salaries and cutting employee pay, Athens struggles desperately to make ends meet trying to make an extra buck where ever and when ever they can. Even when the city is busy striking, it still has to eat. Street vendors had their stands ready to go for both protestors and onlookers.

Turning down one of many alleyways in Athens we stumbled upon a massive meat market. Some highlights included the sheep heads and the Mr. Cotton tail rabbits (still wearing their furry tails). Turning around much to fast trying to get out of there as fast as possible, I ended up getting caught up in a curtain hanging chickens. We did see the famous sites too and they were a little less scary, but fare less exciting. What is amazing though is the view that up top the Acropolis. You don't really get just how compact and over populated the city of Athens truely is until you get to look over the city with a birds eye view.

We were lucky again to have the weather on our side in the middle of December. Gearing down to t-shirts had us giddy. We didn't get to see the beauties of Santorini's black beaches or the wonders of Crete's Samaria Gorge, but we did get to see some exciting social history at its finest.

The Limey

Familiar Faces - The Spanish South

November 11-16, 2010.

Having enjoyed Barcelona for several days, we'd decided to take advantage of an opportunity to see a lesser travelled part of Spain.  Lindsay's Aunt Marlene and Uncle Frank, who were very hospitable towards us in Reading, own a vacation property in Conil, in the southern part of Spain. They were currently vacationing there and opened up their home to us.

A comfortable train ride through Madrid landed us in Cadiz, a beautiful old walled fortress town on the end of a long itshmus on the Atlantic coast.  We had directions to catch a bus to Chinclana, the closest bus stop to Conil.  However, Frank had procured a ride from a neighbor, John.  One catch, he had to catch us inbetween the train and the bus.  Unbeknownst to us, as we had just gotten off the train, someone was looking for us, having spotted us, Frank shouted my name, "Morgan!".  Now having not been recognized by anyone for over a month I was startled to say the least, then obviously relieved to see Frank smiling and laughing.

Back at their place, after a tour of the neighborhood, we were treated to a home cooked meal, another first for us since we'd left Reading.  For the most part during our stay, we rested, relaxed, and ate amazing food with the company of the our hosts and the neighbors.  There's a nice community established over the years of vacationing down there that made us feel very welcome.

Our first morning, we were lucky enough to be there for a weekly market down by the beach in Chinclana.  It was primarily clothes and house wears, mostly from locals and also merchants from Northern Africa.  The shouting at times  was awesome, nothing you wouldn't expect in a large market but in a smaller market as this, nothing was drowned out by background noise.  It would be two or three vendors going at it, and it seemed to get a little personal at times.  We, of course, were not there to shop, but loving the atmosphere did find our one weakness in markets, food.  We left with some candied peanuts, like none we'd ever had, and a huge bag of...kinda trail mix.

No trip to a new sea or ocean is complete, for me at least, without a dip.  Off to the beautiful sandy beaches, empty as it was a bit windy and the water far too cold for anyone who would be vacationing or of sound mind.  First I collected a pocket full of beach glass (shards of broken glass smoothed by tumbling in the sand and surf). Then, I was finally wearing swim trunks and bound and determined to use 'em!  Honestly the water was pretty nice, it was getting out of the water that lent me to question my decision making skills.  Nothing though compared to the DFO (Department of Fisheries and Oceans) polar bear swim that is bestowed upon the losing team in an annual football game every holiday season amongst some former employees and friends.

Saying goodbye to our gracious hosts, Marlene and Frank, was tough, having had such a great time with them again.  It's so nice seeing familiar faces and not knowing when we'd see family or friends again made it so.  Thanks again for having us weary travellers enjoy your hospitality. We spent our last day and night in Cadiz itself.  It was a very beautiful city, easily naviagated by foot.  The seawall, aka, the old cities old fortification, was a refreshing walk.  We enjoyed a beautiful sunset with the many stray cats and surf fishermen of Cadiz. Up early and back to Barcelona in time for our ferry ride to Italy, that's a story that's been told.

The Yank

Walk the Plank and Mind your Pigeons - Venice

 A visit to northern Italy would leave us singing the lines to Tragically Hip's "New Orleans is Sinking", only this time it would be Venice.

It's a fact, Venice has been slowly sinking over the past hundreds of years. The mean level of the land has lowered while the sea levels have risen. Being built on a salt marshland doesn't help much either. In has not been made certain or not whether or not the city is still currently declining, but there are still high waters (acqua alta). To help the problem the city lays out planks for visitors to keep their feet dry. That, or you can opt for buying a pair of their interestingly constructed zip-tie bag boots.

Local businesses stay fully operable during these times; buying your gelato is still possible, it just might take you a few treads to get there so you might want to brush up on your treading water skills. Patio tables and chairs may still be sitting in feets of water, but your server will still be right at your service equipped with menus and sporting thigh high fisherman's boots, even possibliy a life jacket or dingy. It's a shame the water wasn't at a safe diving level because it would have been an all too perfect time to practice some swan diving.

Flooding regularly occurs between November and March. It has become such a problem that in many old houses the former staircases used by people to unload goods are now flooded, rendering the former ground floor uninhabitable. But don't fret, there are less than 20 plumbers in the city of Venice.

St. Mark’s Square is full of tourists…and pigeons. There are an estimated 100,000 birds and roughly 60,000 human residents in Venice. This is the only place in Venice where you are allowed to feed these flying rodents. Doing so otherwise could be asking authorities to issue you a large fine. This is illegal under a decree that the Comune di Venezia issued late in 1997.

"The direct administration of food to feral pigeons 'Columba livia forma domestica' is prohibited throughout the City Council area. ... Contravention of the regulations contained in this ordinance involves an administrative sanction of 1,000,000 lire [€516.45]."

The City of Venice issues a select few with licences to sell the seeds, and these licences are handed down from one generation to the next within the same family. Locals tell tales of pigeons swooping out of the air aggressively and colliding with human heads, leaving victimes bloodies and wounded. Pigeon roosts are also harming the buildings and monuments.  To avoid city pigeons going Alfred Hitchcock on the people, Venice's mayor is looking into a similar move made by London in order to rid its city of the winged vermon. Mayor Ken Livingstone attempted to starve out thousands of tame pigeons in the Trafalgar Square area in 2000-2001, but when the rate of pigeon deaths wasn't high even to his liking, Livingstone ordered falconers to patrol the Square and use hawks to attack any pigeon that tried to feed.
Any thoughts or comments? Mayor Cacciari can be contacted at the following:

Comune di Venezia
Ca Farsetti
San Marco 4136
Venezia
Italy
sindaco@comune.venezia.it, portale@comune.venezia.it

Hungary for Spelunking and Spa-ing

Budapest has been called the city of spas, but it can also be called the city of caves as well.  It is said that there are approximately 200 caves that can be found under the capital. These caves were formed by the same springs that today supply the thermal baths. The majority of the caves were discovered at the beginning of the 20th century, when house buildings and drainage construction works were carried out. Budapest has nine strictly protected caves and three are open to the public, and we ventured down one of the them.  Our Hungarian cave guide (Laszlo was his name, but I could have sworn I heard Asshole) had been caving since he was 15 years old. Now 30, Laszlo thought he would take up comedic story telling to which Morgan, myself and the rest of our splunking group strongly advised against in our heart of hearts as every sentence was followed by a mouth fart. The only thing comedic about everything he said. 

Beneath the floors of Budapest are several natural springs and wells that contain beneficial minerals and healing waters known for their healing effects on joints and arthritic ailements. Budapest is special because it is the only big city in the world that is rich in medicinal water springs as well. Every day nearly 70 million litres of thermal water are coming from the 118 natural sources and bored wells at 21-78°C.  One of the special features of the bath: men who play chess in the steaming water (in winter as well).

Once every month Budapest hosts a massive bath party. It is described by the locals as one big orgy. World reknown DJ's play music while people dance, drink and party in one big bath tub.  You can expect to see a lot of dry humping.  Imagine reclining in an outdoor thermal pool surrounded by fire jugglers and acrobats, water ballets and belly dancers, 360° visuals. It is called the Cinetrip Water Circus http://www.cinetrip.hu/en/watercircus

The Limey

On Croatian Relationships

There isn't a whole heck of a lot to do in Zagreb. The city is small and viewable in hours on foot. As the tourist information booth even recommended you could either go to the historial museum or the museum of broken relationships. So you could either learn about the history of Croatia or visit a museum dedicated to the poor demise of relations between Croatia and other worldy nations. Actually, that's what we thought too, but that word relationship had not been broken down its multiple English meanings. It's the actually the other kind of relationship. The girl and guy kind gone bad.

The museum is literally a colletion of what is left of a broken relationship. Clothes, phones, toater ovens, tooth brushes, CDs, keys, photos, you name it they've got it, each with a story behind the item. The items are even categorized into sections like Destruction, Sadness, Happiness, etc. The Ex's Axe was added to the Destruction collection in 1995 in Berlin by guy who had decided to let his guard down and let a lady move in with him. While away on business for three weeks, his new love had wept and said she didn't know how she could possibly make it through three weeks without him. Returning from his trip, his girlfriend confided she had fallen in love with another lady she'd met only four days ago. After asking her where this left him and their lives together, she was unable to provide the answers he needed so he kicked her out. She immedately went on a 14 day vacation with her new lady lover, in which time the guy went out and bought an ax. (It's okay everyone, no blood was shed, just some wood was chipped). He then chopped up a piece of her furniture she had left in his apartment for each day that passed. Returning to from her vacation to retrieve her things, the girl would only find her things neatly arranged into small heaps and fragments of wood. She took that trash and left his apartment for good. The axe was promoted to a therapy instrument. There are many other stories like this exhibited on the museum's website and on display in the musuem itself.

The museum's mission statement is "to offer a chance to overcome an emotional collapse through creation: by contributing to the Museum's collection." The idea is to embrace a lost love's legacy and to seek comfort in its demise through sharing its story though an item or items that are all that remain left of a person Even this prosthetic leg has a love story attached to it. Whether it's a death, divorce or break-up the museum is a place to reflect, embrace loss, offer therapeutic relief and celebrate the ritualistic process that follows demise. It is a beautiful collection of memories to share with the world. Or for curiosities sake, something to visit as a traveller if you want to unload some extra junk.

For clarification, the Museum of Broken Relationships is a travelling exhibition that embraces failed relationships (the girl and guy kind) an has nothing to do with Croatia itself, other than being conceptualized there http://new.brokenships.com/en/about.

The Limey

Florence - Bed Bugs, Funny Italian Line-ups and Gelato

Florence (Firenze) gets an estimated 1.3 million tourists each year and is known as being one of the most sought after destination places for travel. I guess we shouldn't be at all surprised then with the number of visitors each year that we would happen upon our first case of bed bugs here. We would have expected this from the garbage heap that was Napoli, but not from Florence, the city of glitz and glam.  Apprently even New York has seen the creepy crawlers make their way into some five star hotel beds. From pine beetles to bed bugs, have we missed the unsuspecting blitzkrieg of insects.

Checking into our hostel (7 Santi) and bedding down, I happened to look down and see a tiny, red bug mozy across my crisp, white bed sheet. Then another, and another. Hmmm. I've never experienced bed bugs before, that I've noticed, and my first reaction was the squish the suckers, but Morgan rushed over with a piece of paper and tried to scoop one up to show the front desk. They quicky handed us a key to room 54, only two doors over from the bugs. And not far enough.

Good thing we'd picked up some Om Naturale Bug Be Gone (made in BC) from a Farmer's Market in Kelowna before our trip. The girl insisted it was a must for our stint in India, but Florence, Italy? It seemed all too funny spraying down the beds in the city that was home to the David and charges 10 euros to visit a garden. Even showering down couldn't cure us of the constant feeling of microscopic bugs invading our skin. It's a disgusting feeling and it took us forever to get comfortable enough to sleep without constantly inspecting our sheets every few seconds. Before we fell asleep I told Morgan I hoped to wake up alive and relatively uneaten. Morning came and we quickly examined ourselves for bites. Safe! Not quite. We found one lone bug crawling out of Morgan's sheets. Swearing we would check out of 7 Santi if we found another bug, we again told the front desk about our discovery. We asked the lady if anyone else had mentioned bugs, but she said no. She simply said that they had called the guys to come and get the bugs, but no one had come yet. So just to confirm, no one said anything about bugs? As weirded out and completely jaded as we were about the place, we decided to stick around and see what was behind door number 21.

Check out if your next trip will see bed bugs. This site has been in opreation stince 2006 and is a collection of several accomations that have had bed bug sightings in North America and the United Kingdom. http://www.bedbugregistry.com/

We hung around Florence for the day. Thankfully the weather held up and we took a tour to the Piazzle di Michaelangelo where you have a great view of the city. The

A quick stop over into the central train station to check out our closest escape route (Venice), we were lucky enough to witness some good old Italian culture at work. And in our minds, this little transaction more than made up for our bought of bugs.
The ticket line for local, international and eurail trains was all melded into one with only two attendants working and about 15 people in line. I guess one of the ladies being helped had been overstayed her welcome and was being heckled by the elderly folk at the front of the line. The disapproving bunch were obviously looking to catch a train that was about to leave a platform and was trying to hurry the lady up. A coupld of the gentlemen even went up to the woman and began yelling at her and the attendant. And if  you know anything about Italian's and their way of talking, the whole body gets into it. It's actually proably where the term body language actually derives from. Anyway, the group in line were even clapping the woman on. She would occasionally turn around and yell something to them in return, but it only egged the haters on. It's no wonder Italians run red lights as they do, they are quite humourously the most impatient people we've encountered. I should really look into whether my Jack Rebny is any strain of Italiano.http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDQQfBrSUs0&feature=related

The line began to move and that's about the time when a lady infront of us stumbled backwards and fell over into a sign while standing in line. At first we were sure she'd fainted, but her prompt relocation to the upwards postion suggested she had just miss stepped. All the while, we're still in tears laughing so hard, with our whole Italian bodies.

PS - In 2010, Florence held it's first Gelato Festival. I've heard stories of people rearranging their travel itineraries to fit this delicious event in. Check out the website for more info http://www.firenzegelatofestival.it/site/home.asp

The Limey

The 19 Hour Couch Cruise - Spain to Italy

"So, you've decided to become a bum" - John Travolta as Vincent, Pulp Fiction.

To get to Italy from Spain, we decided to try out the ferry option offered by the Eurail pass. Getting to the Barcelona port, we ended up walking around in cirlces for an hour being pointed in several different directions trying to find the right ticketing office (Gremodli Lines). We finally found it and bought tickets to make the 19 hour boat ride across the Mediterranean. It would have cost us either 47 euros for a "reclining" train seat or 27 euros on a ferry (that's with a 20% discount, one of the many  bonuses offerred with the Eurail). Really though, the boat isn't much of a ferry at all. Actually, I had totally imagined ourselves bedding down with some local farm life fighting over hay space. Unfortunatly, there wasn't any farm-like quality about the ship. There weren't even rows of seats that you could pass out under like the ferry boats running imbetween Vancouver and Vancouver Island. Instead, more like a hotel lobby, you have ultra-sheek couches randomly arranged throughout the lobby ways.

It was here that we officially bummed out for the first time on our trip. We attached our packs together (good luck trying to lift both those suckers up together), made clothes pillows and wrapped our eyes with head wraps. Of the few couches we'd spotted, we obviously picked the one right next to the boat's arcade room, home to the world's loudest game ever. Every few minutes the game's computer voice would sound "Virtual Tennis, 3" followed by some whooshing sounds most probably a combination of dashing serves and aces. Not even the earplugs could block out C3PO's earsplitting jinggle. I wondered if Nadal would have anything to do with the cruise's top arcade game being ultimate tennis. I suddenly decided I hated tennis.

We woke up to one of the boat's staff telling us that we couldn't sleep there. That's 9 hours after we'd splayed out our best on the red Ikea shapes. All that changed was us parrallel to perpendicular. Still on the couch. For the rest of the day we'd have the ship's guests and passengers walk past asking if we'd had a good sleep. It was "Virtually" awesome guys, common. I know you all walked past us before you all snuggled into your premium cabins.

A practice fire alarm would sound and we'd be privy to hear the beforehand security warning reminding passengers that there was no smoking during a fire. A following announcement would call for a staff member's attention and went something like this: "Charlie Dima, Charlie Dima, Charlie Dima, Charlie Dima, Charlie Dima, Charlie Dima. Attention. Please report to Port 9, port side, port side, port side, port side. Attention please, for what?... Please report to Port 9, port side." Gotta love the Spanish.­­

There's a non-profit group called CouchSurfing devoted to creating memorable experiences for travellers by connecting them with local people. "CouchSurfing members share hospitality with one another. These exchanges are a uniquely rich form of cultural interaction. Hosts have the opportunity to meet people from all over the world without leaving home. "Surfers," or travelers, are able to participate in the local life of the places they visit. We also give more people the chance to become travelers, because "surfing" lowers the financial cost of exploration." Unfortunately there are no cruise ship options. See more about about how you can participate on there website.
http://www.couchsurfing.org/about.html

The Limey