Hi everyone,
This is going to be a little short, but we just wanted to let people know that we are safe and doing fine - there was some violence in Istanbul the day we left, but we were already out of the city and on our way to Nepal.
We're currently in Kathmandu and will be in Nepal for the next week. We've already visited some really interesting temples and have been enjoying the Himalayas (from a distance.) We head to a smaller town tomorrow where we can do some hiking in the mountains and get out of the city for a bit.
More later, including (hopefully) some more pictures up on the blog. It's really a pain to do, but we're trying our hardest to get more up.
Hope everyone had a great Halloween! Our costumes: very dirty, but still smiling, tourists.
Love,
Anthony and Michelle
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Mıddle East
Hi everybody!
We know that it has been an extremely long time since we last posted an email, and we're really sorry about that. But we're doing well and we keep plugging along on our journey. This is going to be pretty consolidated since much has happened in the last month and we don't want to keep you for too long.
After our last post, which was in Marrakesh, we headed to Israel. Actually, we didn't go to Israel according to our passports. Since we were going to be heading to Lebanon after Israel, where we wouldn't be allowed in if we had an Israel stamp, we had to ask the border control guards (very nicely) to stamp a piece of paper ınstead. Thıs happens quıte frequently, but ıt wasn't the best tıme to be doıng thıs sınce there was a whole lot of tensıon between the Israel government and the Palestınan terrıtorıes the week before we got there. After a stressful hour ınvolvıng some scowlıng, some starıng, some questıons about the Shaker name, and some waıtıng around, we were let ın. Thıs was great news for us, especıally consıderıng the amazıng fıve days we had after. Much of the tıme was spent sımply walkıng around Jerusalem, one of the oldest cıtıes ın the world and undoubtedly the most polıtıcally and relıgıously charged. As you can see from the photos, there ıs so much to see ın the cıty: the Western Wall (the only remaınıng pıece of the Jewısh temple), the Dome of the Rock (rıght next to the Western Wall and one of the holıest sıtes ın Islam), and the Church of the Sepulchre (where Jesus was crucıfıed and burıed and the holıest sıte for Chrıstıanıty). Just to hear all of the church bells ın the cıty rıng at the same tıme along sımultaneously wıth the muslım call to prayer, and to see people draped over the spot where Jesus' body rested before burıal along wıth the passıon people felt prayıng at the Western Wall was remarkable. The cıty ıs dıvıded ınto four quarters, and ıt's easy to tell when you've crossed the lıne from quarter to quarter; the language changes, the food changes, the people change, etc. It was an amazıng couple of days. We were ınvıted by complete strangers to be a part of a Shabbat dınner ın theır home, and ıt was a powerful and unıque experıence - one of the hıghlıghts of the trıp.
From there we had only a brıef stop ın Amman, Jordan. Wıth only one day to work wıth, we decıded to head to Petra - better known as that awesome temple ın the rocky canyon from Indıana Jones and the Last Crusade. We were gıven bad ınfo, so we mıssed our bus ın the mornıng to get there. Undaunted, we headed to the bus statıon to see ıf there was another way to get to thıs Seventh Wonder of the Modern World (we only know thıs because every local person remınded us ıncessantly). In a whırlwınd of weırd conversatıons ın broken englısh over the span of 30 seconds, we found ourselves ın a car wıth two strangers on our way to Petra. Unsure what was goıng on, we asked the drıver ıf he was a taxı. "Sort of", he saıd. We held our breath for three hours before we dıd ındeed arrıve at Petra, spendıng the afternoon sweatıng ıntensely but also enjoyıng the weırdness of beautıful temples and buıldıngs carved ınto the mıddle of a desolate canyon.
From Jordan we were off to Lebanon, whıch was of partıcular ınterest to Anthony sınce the famıly on hıs father's sıde orıgınates from there. Also very excıtıng was that we were goıng to be joıned there by some very ımportant guests: Anthony's mother, Aunt Cathy, cousın Benjamın, and Iranıan Presıdent Mahmoud Ahmadınejad. Surprısıngly, the last guest caused the bıggest stır ın Lebanon, and the country was ın hıgh alert as the dude loves to taunt Israel. Despıte the bıg mılıtary presence ın the country and tensıons that hıs trıp caused for the dıfferent groups ın Lebanon, we werentgoıng to let hıs vısıt prevent us from seeıng the country and enjoyıng ourselves. We attached a separate post authored by my mom and aunt the chronıcles some of our adventures. But one major hıghlıght that I'll add ıs that we were able to lınk up wıth dıstant cousıns ın the weeks and months ahead of our arrıval. We were eager to meet them, see the vıllage where Anthony's great-grandfather was born, and hear storıes about the roots of the Aouad famıly (whıch was the orıgınal surname of Isaac Shaker before ıt was altered at Ellıs Island.) Thıs was an unbelıevable vısıt, hıgh up ın the mountaıns ın a small town called Tulah. We were treated to an amazıng day and an amazıng meal, thanks to famıly who were so hospıtable and excıted to share theır world wıth us. See the other post for more detaıls, but just as our frıends ın Amsterdam and Anthony's sıster provıded welcome energy, company, and laughter earlıer ın the trıp, so too dıd Lucy, Cathy, and Benjamın ın Lebanon.
After our ten days ın Lebanon, we headed south to Caıro for four ıntense days ın one of the world's oldest and most populated cıtıes. Just as St. Petersburg was a strange combınatıon of wealth and poverty, Caıro had the same feel. The Pyramıds, ancıent tombs, museums, and mosques over 1,000 years old are hard to wrap your braın around, but so too ıs the pollutıon, garbage, and poverty created by 25 mıllıon people lıvıng ın small amount of space. But we were thankful that we met some nıce locals who helped us to navıgate all of the bargaınıng and negotıatıng ınvolved ın even the smallest purchase or excursıon. That just doesnt't seem to get any easıer.
From there we headed to Turkey, where we ımmedıately headed from Istanbul to a small town along the Medıterranean named Fetıyhe. From there, thanks to Mıchelle's dogged determınatıon, we were able to hop on the last small boat cruıse of the season. For four days on a 40 foot saılboat we cruısed along the coast, swam ın the sea, toured small fıshıng vıllages, and had great Turkısh food. We're now on our way back to Istanbul for a few days before headıng to Nepal and our month ın southeast Asıa. Should be awesome.
We hope everyone ıs doıng well - we mıss you all.
Love,
Anthony and Mıchelle
We know that it has been an extremely long time since we last posted an email, and we're really sorry about that. But we're doing well and we keep plugging along on our journey. This is going to be pretty consolidated since much has happened in the last month and we don't want to keep you for too long.
After our last post, which was in Marrakesh, we headed to Israel. Actually, we didn't go to Israel according to our passports. Since we were going to be heading to Lebanon after Israel, where we wouldn't be allowed in if we had an Israel stamp, we had to ask the border control guards (very nicely) to stamp a piece of paper ınstead. Thıs happens quıte frequently, but ıt wasn't the best tıme to be doıng thıs sınce there was a whole lot of tensıon between the Israel government and the Palestınan terrıtorıes the week before we got there. After a stressful hour ınvolvıng some scowlıng, some starıng, some questıons about the Shaker name, and some waıtıng around, we were let ın. Thıs was great news for us, especıally consıderıng the amazıng fıve days we had after. Much of the tıme was spent sımply walkıng around Jerusalem, one of the oldest cıtıes ın the world and undoubtedly the most polıtıcally and relıgıously charged. As you can see from the photos, there ıs so much to see ın the cıty: the Western Wall (the only remaınıng pıece of the Jewısh temple), the Dome of the Rock (rıght next to the Western Wall and one of the holıest sıtes ın Islam), and the Church of the Sepulchre (where Jesus was crucıfıed and burıed and the holıest sıte for Chrıstıanıty). Just to hear all of the church bells ın the cıty rıng at the same tıme along sımultaneously wıth the muslım call to prayer, and to see people draped over the spot where Jesus' body rested before burıal along wıth the passıon people felt prayıng at the Western Wall was remarkable. The cıty ıs dıvıded ınto four quarters, and ıt's easy to tell when you've crossed the lıne from quarter to quarter; the language changes, the food changes, the people change, etc. It was an amazıng couple of days. We were ınvıted by complete strangers to be a part of a Shabbat dınner ın theır home, and ıt was a powerful and unıque experıence - one of the hıghlıghts of the trıp.
From there we had only a brıef stop ın Amman, Jordan. Wıth only one day to work wıth, we decıded to head to Petra - better known as that awesome temple ın the rocky canyon from Indıana Jones and the Last Crusade. We were gıven bad ınfo, so we mıssed our bus ın the mornıng to get there. Undaunted, we headed to the bus statıon to see ıf there was another way to get to thıs Seventh Wonder of the Modern World (we only know thıs because every local person remınded us ıncessantly). In a whırlwınd of weırd conversatıons ın broken englısh over the span of 30 seconds, we found ourselves ın a car wıth two strangers on our way to Petra. Unsure what was goıng on, we asked the drıver ıf he was a taxı. "Sort of", he saıd. We held our breath for three hours before we dıd ındeed arrıve at Petra, spendıng the afternoon sweatıng ıntensely but also enjoyıng the weırdness of beautıful temples and buıldıngs carved ınto the mıddle of a desolate canyon.
From Jordan we were off to Lebanon, whıch was of partıcular ınterest to Anthony sınce the famıly on hıs father's sıde orıgınates from there. Also very excıtıng was that we were goıng to be joıned there by some very ımportant guests: Anthony's mother, Aunt Cathy, cousın Benjamın, and Iranıan Presıdent Mahmoud Ahmadınejad. Surprısıngly, the last guest caused the bıggest stır ın Lebanon, and the country was ın hıgh alert as the dude loves to taunt Israel. Despıte the bıg mılıtary presence ın the country and tensıons that hıs trıp caused for the dıfferent groups ın Lebanon, we werentgoıng to let hıs vısıt prevent us from seeıng the country and enjoyıng ourselves. We attached a separate post authored by my mom and aunt the chronıcles some of our adventures. But one major hıghlıght that I'll add ıs that we were able to lınk up wıth dıstant cousıns ın the weeks and months ahead of our arrıval. We were eager to meet them, see the vıllage where Anthony's great-grandfather was born, and hear storıes about the roots of the Aouad famıly (whıch was the orıgınal surname of Isaac Shaker before ıt was altered at Ellıs Island.) Thıs was an unbelıevable vısıt, hıgh up ın the mountaıns ın a small town called Tulah. We were treated to an amazıng day and an amazıng meal, thanks to famıly who were so hospıtable and excıted to share theır world wıth us. See the other post for more detaıls, but just as our frıends ın Amsterdam and Anthony's sıster provıded welcome energy, company, and laughter earlıer ın the trıp, so too dıd Lucy, Cathy, and Benjamın ın Lebanon.
After our ten days ın Lebanon, we headed south to Caıro for four ıntense days ın one of the world's oldest and most populated cıtıes. Just as St. Petersburg was a strange combınatıon of wealth and poverty, Caıro had the same feel. The Pyramıds, ancıent tombs, museums, and mosques over 1,000 years old are hard to wrap your braın around, but so too ıs the pollutıon, garbage, and poverty created by 25 mıllıon people lıvıng ın small amount of space. But we were thankful that we met some nıce locals who helped us to navıgate all of the bargaınıng and negotıatıng ınvolved ın even the smallest purchase or excursıon. That just doesnt't seem to get any easıer.
From there we headed to Turkey, where we ımmedıately headed from Istanbul to a small town along the Medıterranean named Fetıyhe. From there, thanks to Mıchelle's dogged determınatıon, we were able to hop on the last small boat cruıse of the season. For four days on a 40 foot saılboat we cruısed along the coast, swam ın the sea, toured small fıshıng vıllages, and had great Turkısh food. We're now on our way back to Istanbul for a few days before headıng to Nepal and our month ın southeast Asıa. Should be awesome.
We hope everyone ıs doıng well - we mıss you all.
Love,
Anthony and Mıchelle
Lebanon
Guest co-authors: Lucy Shaker and Cathy Shaker-Breit
One mom (Lucy), one aunt (Cathy) and one cousin (Benjamin) joined Anthony and Michelle for a week in Lebanon. What a week it was!!
We were all high-energy tourists who wanted to capture every possible experience in a short time period. We saw impressive historical sites, visited with relatives still living in the same tiny village where Isaac Shaker lived before coming to America and enjoyed the hospitality of the gracious Lebanese.
Some of the week’s highlights: Baalbek’s remarkably well-preserved structures including the often-pictured Roman Temples to the gods Jupiter and Baachus. Please note equal rights were not a priority. Only men were allowed in these temples. The temple to Venus that women were allowed to visit is far off in the distance and only partially excavated. Byblos, which is considered the world’s oldest continually inhabited city, features a market (souk) that has changed little since Roman times. We visited the Jeita Grotto (in competition for one of the modern natural wonders of the world) which is made up of miles of limestone stalactites and stalagmites that have been forming for thousands of years. Cathy reported that although it was eerily beautiful, she was “pretty sure she saw John Lennon’s face in one hanging.”
We all loved our journey to one of the few remaining groves of the famous Lebanese cedars. Sadly, harsh weather and the lumber needs of nearby countries have devastated the forests. Now few of these magnificent symbols of Lebanon remain although the tree depicted on the flag of Lebanon is still standing.
Some Beirut sites that we enjoyed: The National Museum of Lebanon (a must see), the Al Omari Mosque with its spectacular ceiling mosaics and the world’s largest chandelier, the St. Jude Hospital Clinic (doing good works worldwide).
While Beirut seemed like a congested, large city, we greatly enjoyed our journeys outside Beirut through the winding hills of Lebanon. A friend of ours in Oak Park recommended a driver that he used on his trips to Lebanon. Rami was an invaluable resource for us. He shepherded us around providing good companionship and valuable information. Some special lessons we learned from Rami: There are “no rules in Lebanon.” When we asked why people would be walking across the highway dodging traffic and carrying bags of groceries, he would say that “is normal”. He did insist that we stop at a wax museum where he said the 50 most important people in history were depicted. To our surprise 10 of them were sheiks. When we asked Rami, he said (of course) that is normal. Other wax notables: Fıdel Castro, Saddam Husseın, Pope John Paul, Van Gogh, Quasımodo, and a partıcularly haggard lookıng Bıll Clınton. All ın all, one of the more surreal moments of the trıp.
We also learned from Rami and from our experience as passengers on the wild, wild roads that there is a special language spoken by the constant honking horns on the streets of Lebanon. After careful study, we believe we have a pretty definitive list to help future travelers to discern what the particular horn honk might mean…
Hello
Wassup
I’m here
I’m passing you in a non-lane
Meet me later at the club
I’m driving through this broken red light
You, car ahead of me, need to drive through this broken red light
A long horn means…f…you
I’m free and I do whatever I want
You are pretty
I’m a taxi and I am available
I’m at a store and don’t feel like going in, my honk gets the store owner to come to me
I’m going the wrong way towards you
I’m driving on the sidewalk, I hope you don’t mind
I’m aware that you are a pedestrıan with the right of way, but I don’t care and will run you over
I am on a 3 lane highway but am happy to create a few more lanes
Watch out because I am stopping on a highway to let passengers out
I have not honked in a few minutes and need to make sure my horn works
Bottom line..if you visit Lebanon, please avoid the rental car stop. Just call our friend Rami
One very special aspect of our trip was the chance to connect with Shaker Family members living in Toula. The Auoad family welcomed us to their village sharing stories of our shared history. They couldn’t have been more gracious and welcoming. They have kept a scrapbook of photos sent to them from Isaac Shaker (Cathy’s grandfather and the first to come to America) and Joseph Shaker (Cathy’s dad). They also took Cathy and Benjamin to the tiny village of Misthra where both of Cathy’s grandmothers were born.
The Lebanese hospitality is well known by anyone who has a Lebanese acquaintance. Typifying that was when Fr. Alfred (a Lebanese priest and friend with a church in Chicago) invited us to share an evening with his wonderful family. We ate dinner at a restaurant filled with thousands of flowers. There was fabulous Lebanese food and exceptional company…a perfect evening.
It is hard to fit in a few paragraphs all that we experienced, but we did manage to add some culture to our trip: a nightclub singer who knew a little John Denver and ABBA, a visit to Lebanese winery (exceptional local wine called Ksaras), a middle eastern night club act (surprised to see a Russian belly dancer with tattoos), and if anyone gets to the Metropolitan Hotel in Beirut, please tell Roger the Bartender that the Shakers say kifak.
But you can’t talk about a trip to Lebanon without mentioning the extraordinary Lebanese cuisine. Almost daily we sampled kibbee, tabouli, fatoush salad, grape leaves, zata, laban (yogurt), spinach pies and hummus. We are ready to go back for more.
Cathy, Lucy and Benjamin were pleased to be able to share a portion of Anthony and Michelle’s great adventure with them. We can report that Anthony and Michelle are doing very well…thoroughly enjoying the experience. Their energy is invigorating…it was a delight!!! Thanks for the memories!
One mom (Lucy), one aunt (Cathy) and one cousin (Benjamin) joined Anthony and Michelle for a week in Lebanon. What a week it was!!
We were all high-energy tourists who wanted to capture every possible experience in a short time period. We saw impressive historical sites, visited with relatives still living in the same tiny village where Isaac Shaker lived before coming to America and enjoyed the hospitality of the gracious Lebanese.
Some of the week’s highlights: Baalbek’s remarkably well-preserved structures including the often-pictured Roman Temples to the gods Jupiter and Baachus. Please note equal rights were not a priority. Only men were allowed in these temples. The temple to Venus that women were allowed to visit is far off in the distance and only partially excavated. Byblos, which is considered the world’s oldest continually inhabited city, features a market (souk) that has changed little since Roman times. We visited the Jeita Grotto (in competition for one of the modern natural wonders of the world) which is made up of miles of limestone stalactites and stalagmites that have been forming for thousands of years. Cathy reported that although it was eerily beautiful, she was “pretty sure she saw John Lennon’s face in one hanging.”
We all loved our journey to one of the few remaining groves of the famous Lebanese cedars. Sadly, harsh weather and the lumber needs of nearby countries have devastated the forests. Now few of these magnificent symbols of Lebanon remain although the tree depicted on the flag of Lebanon is still standing.
Some Beirut sites that we enjoyed: The National Museum of Lebanon (a must see), the Al Omari Mosque with its spectacular ceiling mosaics and the world’s largest chandelier, the St. Jude Hospital Clinic (doing good works worldwide).
While Beirut seemed like a congested, large city, we greatly enjoyed our journeys outside Beirut through the winding hills of Lebanon. A friend of ours in Oak Park recommended a driver that he used on his trips to Lebanon. Rami was an invaluable resource for us. He shepherded us around providing good companionship and valuable information. Some special lessons we learned from Rami: There are “no rules in Lebanon.” When we asked why people would be walking across the highway dodging traffic and carrying bags of groceries, he would say that “is normal”. He did insist that we stop at a wax museum where he said the 50 most important people in history were depicted. To our surprise 10 of them were sheiks. When we asked Rami, he said (of course) that is normal. Other wax notables: Fıdel Castro, Saddam Husseın, Pope John Paul, Van Gogh, Quasımodo, and a partıcularly haggard lookıng Bıll Clınton. All ın all, one of the more surreal moments of the trıp.
We also learned from Rami and from our experience as passengers on the wild, wild roads that there is a special language spoken by the constant honking horns on the streets of Lebanon. After careful study, we believe we have a pretty definitive list to help future travelers to discern what the particular horn honk might mean…
Hello
Wassup
I’m here
I’m passing you in a non-lane
Meet me later at the club
I’m driving through this broken red light
You, car ahead of me, need to drive through this broken red light
A long horn means…f…you
I’m free and I do whatever I want
You are pretty
I’m a taxi and I am available
I’m at a store and don’t feel like going in, my honk gets the store owner to come to me
I’m going the wrong way towards you
I’m driving on the sidewalk, I hope you don’t mind
I’m aware that you are a pedestrıan with the right of way, but I don’t care and will run you over
I am on a 3 lane highway but am happy to create a few more lanes
Watch out because I am stopping on a highway to let passengers out
I have not honked in a few minutes and need to make sure my horn works
Bottom line..if you visit Lebanon, please avoid the rental car stop. Just call our friend Rami
One very special aspect of our trip was the chance to connect with Shaker Family members living in Toula. The Auoad family welcomed us to their village sharing stories of our shared history. They couldn’t have been more gracious and welcoming. They have kept a scrapbook of photos sent to them from Isaac Shaker (Cathy’s grandfather and the first to come to America) and Joseph Shaker (Cathy’s dad). They also took Cathy and Benjamin to the tiny village of Misthra where both of Cathy’s grandmothers were born.
The Lebanese hospitality is well known by anyone who has a Lebanese acquaintance. Typifying that was when Fr. Alfred (a Lebanese priest and friend with a church in Chicago) invited us to share an evening with his wonderful family. We ate dinner at a restaurant filled with thousands of flowers. There was fabulous Lebanese food and exceptional company…a perfect evening.
It is hard to fit in a few paragraphs all that we experienced, but we did manage to add some culture to our trip: a nightclub singer who knew a little John Denver and ABBA, a visit to Lebanese winery (exceptional local wine called Ksaras), a middle eastern night club act (surprised to see a Russian belly dancer with tattoos), and if anyone gets to the Metropolitan Hotel in Beirut, please tell Roger the Bartender that the Shakers say kifak.
But you can’t talk about a trip to Lebanon without mentioning the extraordinary Lebanese cuisine. Almost daily we sampled kibbee, tabouli, fatoush salad, grape leaves, zata, laban (yogurt), spinach pies and hummus. We are ready to go back for more.
Cathy, Lucy and Benjamin were pleased to be able to share a portion of Anthony and Michelle’s great adventure with them. We can report that Anthony and Michelle are doing very well…thoroughly enjoying the experience. Their energy is invigorating…it was a delight!!! Thanks for the memories!
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Camels, turbans, and the desert
We're back from the desert, sore from camel riding with odd burn marks on our bodies. Somehow being back in Marrakesh feels like home which makes zero sense. But our hostel is so amazing that we had to come back to swim in the pool and sleep in a real bed.
We left Marakesh a few days ago and traveled by bus to Zagora. I've heard people recount their stories of terrifying bus rides and I always think that it can't be that bad. This was that bad. The bus kept going up and up through the Atlas mountains and we kept looking down and down. The bus driver honks once before going around a turn, as though thats going to do anything if there is another car, walker (people walk up this) or donkey. The honk is just information that we will hit you. Hey, watch out, we are about to plow through you. On the trip to and from, there were people throwing up. Totally normal to the bus driver. And once one starts... Everywhere, gross, yuck. AND STILL there were people lying on the floor of the bus. Just snoozing. No biggie.
We made it to Zagora and were brought to our hotel by the Kazbah. Its very different from Marakesh. These houses are made up brick, clay and hay? Its the desert and looks like the desert. I still don't totally understand what a Kazbah is. Antoine, the owner of the hotel, gave us a tour and showed us maps. It was interesting though the kids throwing rocks at us were a little unnerving.
The next day we prepared ourselves for the desert, buying wraps for our heads and lathering on sunscreen. How does one pack for the desert? No idea. We met our guides, Mustafa and Achmed at the front of the hotel with three camels just sitting in the shade. We couldn't have been whiter or more UN-Moroccan (see pictures), but we did it. Our guides were hilarious and knew more about America than we did. This seems to be a theme with all the people we meet, but for guys who didn't go to school and trek through the desert 355 days a year, it's pretty amazing. Mustafa and Achmed cooked for us and sang songs. They slept in the sand. We slept outside on tiny mattresses with our blankets over our heads because of my fear of snakes and stories of Jackels they told us. Not to mention the beatles that were the size of my hand. In the middle of the night the moon was so bright and the three camels were just hanging out grunting next to us. It was pretty amazing. I almost forgot about the snakes. Almost.
Our last stop in Zagora was the rug shop that we had promised (never promise anything) to come back to. Anthony haggled for rugs successfully. It was impressive to watch. "But I am just a teacher..." The flies were everywhere and we were drinking extremely sugary tea that I am convinced was making me want to buy more and more silver jewelry that I didn't need. We ended up with two small rugs and some little things that we can barely fit in our bags. Anthony is a prized haggler, so much that I think he should keep it up in Turkey. He says otherwise.
It's our last day in Morocco; we leave for Casablanca today to get our flight to Israel. We're about to start our super fast trip through the Middle East. More later. Love, Michelle and Anthony
We left Marakesh a few days ago and traveled by bus to Zagora. I've heard people recount their stories of terrifying bus rides and I always think that it can't be that bad. This was that bad. The bus kept going up and up through the Atlas mountains and we kept looking down and down. The bus driver honks once before going around a turn, as though thats going to do anything if there is another car, walker (people walk up this) or donkey. The honk is just information that we will hit you. Hey, watch out, we are about to plow through you. On the trip to and from, there were people throwing up. Totally normal to the bus driver. And once one starts... Everywhere, gross, yuck. AND STILL there were people lying on the floor of the bus. Just snoozing. No biggie.
We made it to Zagora and were brought to our hotel by the Kazbah. Its very different from Marakesh. These houses are made up brick, clay and hay? Its the desert and looks like the desert. I still don't totally understand what a Kazbah is. Antoine, the owner of the hotel, gave us a tour and showed us maps. It was interesting though the kids throwing rocks at us were a little unnerving.
The next day we prepared ourselves for the desert, buying wraps for our heads and lathering on sunscreen. How does one pack for the desert? No idea. We met our guides, Mustafa and Achmed at the front of the hotel with three camels just sitting in the shade. We couldn't have been whiter or more UN-Moroccan (see pictures), but we did it. Our guides were hilarious and knew more about America than we did. This seems to be a theme with all the people we meet, but for guys who didn't go to school and trek through the desert 355 days a year, it's pretty amazing. Mustafa and Achmed cooked for us and sang songs. They slept in the sand. We slept outside on tiny mattresses with our blankets over our heads because of my fear of snakes and stories of Jackels they told us. Not to mention the beatles that were the size of my hand. In the middle of the night the moon was so bright and the three camels were just hanging out grunting next to us. It was pretty amazing. I almost forgot about the snakes. Almost.
Our last stop in Zagora was the rug shop that we had promised (never promise anything) to come back to. Anthony haggled for rugs successfully. It was impressive to watch. "But I am just a teacher..." The flies were everywhere and we were drinking extremely sugary tea that I am convinced was making me want to buy more and more silver jewelry that I didn't need. We ended up with two small rugs and some little things that we can barely fit in our bags. Anthony is a prized haggler, so much that I think he should keep it up in Turkey. He says otherwise.
It's our last day in Morocco; we leave for Casablanca today to get our flight to Israel. We're about to start our super fast trip through the Middle East. More later. Love, Michelle and Anthony
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Bar-tha-lona
Hola!
Me llamo Amanda, and I will be your guest blogger for the day.
I’d first like to report how great AJ and Michelle look! It was so great spending time with them and seeing them in their new super-traveler mode.
When I met up with them, they had rented an apartment in a cute residential neighborhood of Barcelona. There, they were able to do laundry, cook and veg out a bit, as Carlos (whose apartment they were renting) had a living room with comfy couches and an impressive collection of American movies, most notably the Godfather, which AJ patiently reminded Michelle and me every 14 seconds who each character was.
After a few days at Carlos’, we stayed at a hotel on the bustling Las Ramblas Street, which was right in the middle of shops, restaurants, cafes, bars, etc. Until about 3 am each morning, you could hear the activity on the street, as well as musicians (usually alternating between Spanish and Beatles tunes).
I can officially report that we conquered Barcelona, primarily by foot and subway – from the Picasso museum to the site of the 1992 Olympics. The city is a great walking city, and man, did we walk it! There was an incredible market with fresh fish (some still alive…yikes), meats and fruits and veggies that we visited daily. Some of the city’s most impressive sites are those architected by Antoni Gaudi, who’s pretty much the Betty White of Barcelona – he’s a HUGE deal and basically all they talk about. His signature piece of work is the Segrada Familia, a cathedral that they’ve been building since 1882. It’s a stunning place that they’re hoping to wrap up in 16 years (which will mark 100 years since Gaudi’s death). I’m not too sure they can hit their deadline, but my first suggestion would be to have the workers stop smoking on the job. One guy working on the altar had a hammer in one hand and a cig in another…nice touch. Another cool Gaudi project is the Park Guell – a huge park that looks very Alice in Wonderland on one side with gingerbread houses and stunning mosaics, while the other side resembles a nature preserve with trails and hills (and stunning views of the city).
On the last night, we attended a Barcelona soccer game (thanks, Kevin, for the amazing tickets!). If there’s anything Barcelonans love more than Gaudi, tapas and smoking, it’s soccer. The energy was heart-racing, and what seems like forever when you’re watching it on TV, went by in no time when you’re viewing live.
Leaving Anthony and Michelle was incredibly hard, but seeing their enthusiasm for the rest of their trip was inspiring and impressive. It was so much fun seeing them, enjoying Barcelona’s beautiful sites, tapas, sangria, etc….did I mention the tapas?
Amanda
Thank you, Amanda! Your quality travel writing is matched only by your tremendous love and consumption of "patatas bravas" (spicy, fried potatoes.) You were a great travel partner, with a wonderful sense of spirit and adventure. Note: if you ever decide to do a trip like this, having periodic visits with people you know is definitely a great way to rejuvinate along the road. We've been lucky to visit some old friends and to have a visit from a family member thus far (with a few more to come!) We could have had a great time hanging with Amanda in a bucket - but we did not stop her from volunteering to use some of her points to stay in a ballin' hotel for a few days. King size bed? Sure! Bathrobe? OK! Slippers with your robe? Porque no? It was a definite step up from some of the other places we've stayed.
And we're now in Marrakesh - we took a ferry from Spain through the Mediterranean to the Moroccan city of Tanger, then an overnight train from there to Marrakesh. We've only been here for a day, but it's a beautiful, mysterious, and pretty intense city. We've had to haggle for about most everything, which is not something that Micelle and I are particularly good at. But we've enjoyed some delicous local food, visited one of the largest mosques in the Muslim world, and spent time at an enormous market full of small stands, story-tellers, snake charmers, musicians, etc. It's definitely a change from where we've been so far in terms of climate, culture, and lifestyle.
We miss you all and hope that everyone is doing well. And by the looks of it, my worry of possibly missing a Notre Dame football championship season by going on this trip didn't take too long to disappear.
Love,
Anthony and Michelle
Me llamo Amanda, and I will be your guest blogger for the day.
I’d first like to report how great AJ and Michelle look! It was so great spending time with them and seeing them in their new super-traveler mode.
When I met up with them, they had rented an apartment in a cute residential neighborhood of Barcelona. There, they were able to do laundry, cook and veg out a bit, as Carlos (whose apartment they were renting) had a living room with comfy couches and an impressive collection of American movies, most notably the Godfather, which AJ patiently reminded Michelle and me every 14 seconds who each character was.
After a few days at Carlos’, we stayed at a hotel on the bustling Las Ramblas Street, which was right in the middle of shops, restaurants, cafes, bars, etc. Until about 3 am each morning, you could hear the activity on the street, as well as musicians (usually alternating between Spanish and Beatles tunes).
I can officially report that we conquered Barcelona, primarily by foot and subway – from the Picasso museum to the site of the 1992 Olympics. The city is a great walking city, and man, did we walk it! There was an incredible market with fresh fish (some still alive…yikes), meats and fruits and veggies that we visited daily. Some of the city’s most impressive sites are those architected by Antoni Gaudi, who’s pretty much the Betty White of Barcelona – he’s a HUGE deal and basically all they talk about. His signature piece of work is the Segrada Familia, a cathedral that they’ve been building since 1882. It’s a stunning place that they’re hoping to wrap up in 16 years (which will mark 100 years since Gaudi’s death). I’m not too sure they can hit their deadline, but my first suggestion would be to have the workers stop smoking on the job. One guy working on the altar had a hammer in one hand and a cig in another…nice touch. Another cool Gaudi project is the Park Guell – a huge park that looks very Alice in Wonderland on one side with gingerbread houses and stunning mosaics, while the other side resembles a nature preserve with trails and hills (and stunning views of the city).
On the last night, we attended a Barcelona soccer game (thanks, Kevin, for the amazing tickets!). If there’s anything Barcelonans love more than Gaudi, tapas and smoking, it’s soccer. The energy was heart-racing, and what seems like forever when you’re watching it on TV, went by in no time when you’re viewing live.
Leaving Anthony and Michelle was incredibly hard, but seeing their enthusiasm for the rest of their trip was inspiring and impressive. It was so much fun seeing them, enjoying Barcelona’s beautiful sites, tapas, sangria, etc….did I mention the tapas?
Amanda
Thank you, Amanda! Your quality travel writing is matched only by your tremendous love and consumption of "patatas bravas" (spicy, fried potatoes.) You were a great travel partner, with a wonderful sense of spirit and adventure. Note: if you ever decide to do a trip like this, having periodic visits with people you know is definitely a great way to rejuvinate along the road. We've been lucky to visit some old friends and to have a visit from a family member thus far (with a few more to come!) We could have had a great time hanging with Amanda in a bucket - but we did not stop her from volunteering to use some of her points to stay in a ballin' hotel for a few days. King size bed? Sure! Bathrobe? OK! Slippers with your robe? Porque no? It was a definite step up from some of the other places we've stayed.
And we're now in Marrakesh - we took a ferry from Spain through the Mediterranean to the Moroccan city of Tanger, then an overnight train from there to Marrakesh. We've only been here for a day, but it's a beautiful, mysterious, and pretty intense city. We've had to haggle for about most everything, which is not something that Micelle and I are particularly good at. But we've enjoyed some delicous local food, visited one of the largest mosques in the Muslim world, and spent time at an enormous market full of small stands, story-tellers, snake charmers, musicians, etc. It's definitely a change from where we've been so far in terms of climate, culture, and lifestyle.
We miss you all and hope that everyone is doing well. And by the looks of it, my worry of possibly missing a Notre Dame football championship season by going on this trip didn't take too long to disappear.
Love,
Anthony and Michelle
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Scrubbing the Russia off of us
We're a little behind in the blog and I'm not sure where to start. We really enjoyed Scandenavia, especially Stockholm. We may be canal toured out as that has been our go-to in most cities. We decided to take an overnight boat to Finland, and we expected a small, simple ferry ride. What we got was the Love Boat - it was more like a Carnival cruise line with lounge singers and a Vegas-style dance show. I'm not sure why Anthony sat up front and center- it was clear he was going to be used as a prop and he was. We also befriended 3 Russians who convinced us we had to stay with them in St Petersburg. Our thought: Russians are so nice! (but more on that later). Mind you this conversation was going on with a translator, Vodka, and scibbles on paper. Even Russian scribbles and arrows make no sense.
We made it to Finland and met up with an old Parker friend, Mimmu, who took us north to her home where we learned about lakes in Finland (there are over 100,000) the intense pasttime of mushroom-gathering, and saunas. Saunas rule. This is because the Fins sauna every day and you literally pass out afterwards. Saunas don't rule if you in there with strangers. Also you swat at each other with branches- a technique we didn't get to take part in . Too bad. We ate really well and slept great. We had to really rest up for our next stop.
Which brings me to Russia. Sigh. We could not wait for this part of the trip and we had heard so many great things about St Petersburg. Now that we're in Spain and in the sun and clean, I don't feel as strongly about Russia, but there were some scary moments I would rather forget. FIRST of all, there are no street signs or numbers so finding our "hotel" took 2 hours. The drunk Russians from the boat were so nice- the ones we experienced were icy at best. We realized quickly that you either stay in the nicest place possible or you stay in a trash heap (you can tell from our tone that we were in the latter. The place was literally crumbling.) Your options are the Ritz or Roxbury. Everything in the city is like this. Cars are either Massarittis or floorless buggies with their wheels coming off. The food options are caviar and vodka at the Astoria or mystery street meat and a bottle of homebrew vodka hanging over the canal. The only thing that seems to be consistently present
is that the women dress like it's 1982 and the men wear the same exact black leather jackets. If we stayed there any longer we would both have to invest in matching acid washed jeans and start street-racing.
Don't get me wrong. We saw some amazing things: the Hermitage museum, some of the churches' architecture, and the WW II historical elements were outstanding. But the general mistrust on their part (and ours) permeated the whole visit. It's hard to feel comfortable when you know the police will never help you-only ask for your papers while twiddling their batons. Spies Like Us and Rocky 4 were not helpful movies in preparation for Russia.
After a dicey bus ride to the St. Pete airport, we had to go through three different security checks before our flight. And the intensity increased at each subsequent one. The first one was manned by a guy whose uniform resembled someone working the fry-o-lator at McDonalds. He asked to inspect Michelle's bag and then just got too tired to do it. The next check was by a woman talking to a friend on the
phone as she worked the x-Ray machine. And the last one involved a very thorough full-body pat down. We had to connect in Stockholm on the way to Barcelona, and our flight was loaded with fans of the '80's Swedish pop duo Roxette (they had a concert in St. Pete the previous night). We didn't know that anybody still listened to them. Somebody wake up MC Hammer. He's going to be HUGE in Russia next year.
And now we're in Barcelona, enjoying the warmer weather, doing some laundry, and feeling refreshed. We're very excited to explore the city and get our hands on some tapas. Anthony's sister, Amanda, is going to join us for the next week, so you can all expect the next post to be written by her; it will no doubt be funnier and more dramatic, including topics ranging from paella to male thong swimwear (it seems pretty popular here.)
Hope you're all doing well! Adios!
Love,
Anthony & Michelle
Editor's note: Michelle has much more to say about Russia, but she had to be censored for the blog. But she encourages all of you to ask her about it someday. We also hope that we're not coming off as "ugly Americans", especially if the Russian government is reading our blog. We loved it!
We made it to Finland and met up with an old Parker friend, Mimmu, who took us north to her home where we learned about lakes in Finland (there are over 100,000) the intense pasttime of mushroom-gathering, and saunas. Saunas rule. This is because the Fins sauna every day and you literally pass out afterwards. Saunas don't rule if you in there with strangers. Also you swat at each other with branches- a technique we didn't get to take part in . Too bad. We ate really well and slept great. We had to really rest up for our next stop.
Which brings me to Russia. Sigh. We could not wait for this part of the trip and we had heard so many great things about St Petersburg. Now that we're in Spain and in the sun and clean, I don't feel as strongly about Russia, but there were some scary moments I would rather forget. FIRST of all, there are no street signs or numbers so finding our "hotel" took 2 hours. The drunk Russians from the boat were so nice- the ones we experienced were icy at best. We realized quickly that you either stay in the nicest place possible or you stay in a trash heap (you can tell from our tone that we were in the latter. The place was literally crumbling.) Your options are the Ritz or Roxbury. Everything in the city is like this. Cars are either Massarittis or floorless buggies with their wheels coming off. The food options are caviar and vodka at the Astoria or mystery street meat and a bottle of homebrew vodka hanging over the canal. The only thing that seems to be consistently present
is that the women dress like it's 1982 and the men wear the same exact black leather jackets. If we stayed there any longer we would both have to invest in matching acid washed jeans and start street-racing.
Don't get me wrong. We saw some amazing things: the Hermitage museum, some of the churches' architecture, and the WW II historical elements were outstanding. But the general mistrust on their part (and ours) permeated the whole visit. It's hard to feel comfortable when you know the police will never help you-only ask for your papers while twiddling their batons. Spies Like Us and Rocky 4 were not helpful movies in preparation for Russia.
After a dicey bus ride to the St. Pete airport, we had to go through three different security checks before our flight. And the intensity increased at each subsequent one. The first one was manned by a guy whose uniform resembled someone working the fry-o-lator at McDonalds. He asked to inspect Michelle's bag and then just got too tired to do it. The next check was by a woman talking to a friend on the
phone as she worked the x-Ray machine. And the last one involved a very thorough full-body pat down. We had to connect in Stockholm on the way to Barcelona, and our flight was loaded with fans of the '80's Swedish pop duo Roxette (they had a concert in St. Pete the previous night). We didn't know that anybody still listened to them. Somebody wake up MC Hammer. He's going to be HUGE in Russia next year.
And now we're in Barcelona, enjoying the warmer weather, doing some laundry, and feeling refreshed. We're very excited to explore the city and get our hands on some tapas. Anthony's sister, Amanda, is going to join us for the next week, so you can all expect the next post to be written by her; it will no doubt be funnier and more dramatic, including topics ranging from paella to male thong swimwear (it seems pretty popular here.)
Hope you're all doing well! Adios!
Love,
Anthony & Michelle
Editor's note: Michelle has much more to say about Russia, but she had to be censored for the blog. But she encourages all of you to ask her about it someday. We also hope that we're not coming off as "ugly Americans", especially if the Russian government is reading our blog. We loved it!
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Stockholm
Hi everybody,
Just a quick note to say that we finally got some new photos up. Sorry that it took so long. After a great couple of days with Kevin, Mike, and Greg in Amsterdam, we made it from to the small town of Kirkel, Germany where we visited with Anthony´s German cousins. They were amazing hosts and took us all over the area and to some important family sights. Thankfully, their English was better than our German, so we were able to hear some great family stories and explanations of my roots. From there we went to Berlin to check out the Arcade Fire concert (one of our favorite bands.) We spent a few days in Copenhagen and are now in Stockholm until Monday. We then take a ferry to Finland to visit with Mimmu Hartia-Sloan, our friend from the Parker School who moved back home a few years back. We´re doing well and miss you all. Take care!
Love, Anthony and Michelle
Just a quick note to say that we finally got some new photos up. Sorry that it took so long. After a great couple of days with Kevin, Mike, and Greg in Amsterdam, we made it from to the small town of Kirkel, Germany where we visited with Anthony´s German cousins. They were amazing hosts and took us all over the area and to some important family sights. Thankfully, their English was better than our German, so we were able to hear some great family stories and explanations of my roots. From there we went to Berlin to check out the Arcade Fire concert (one of our favorite bands.) We spent a few days in Copenhagen and are now in Stockholm until Monday. We then take a ferry to Finland to visit with Mimmu Hartia-Sloan, our friend from the Parker School who moved back home a few years back. We´re doing well and miss you all. Take care!
Love, Anthony and Michelle
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