Sunday, March 30, 2014

Kapadokya Chimney

Waking naturally to the morning light I peeked out the window to discover a speckled sky. Without time for socks I snatched my camera and skipped up the stairs to the rooftop. The door was locked but I was persistent and tried the window which was open. As I moved the flower pots off the ledge to gain access I discovered a key. I replaced the pots and unlocked the door. Though a single shot couldn't capture it I counted well over 50 dotting the sky with every watercolour.

Looking for that unobstructed pic I headed across the road, cold ankles and all, to the field of green. As I crossed I spied (hey, that's the name of this blog!) a windowed chimney structure in the distance that seemed especially striking. 
Having traversed the dirt paths between, it was immense and imposing from the base. With a boy's excitement I rushed into the nearest ground room, spun around and went to the next. In no time the rooms were exhausted but no way up was seen, unless I could somehow shimmy through a chimney narrower than my shoulders starting 3 metres off the ground.
Circling the massive stone pillar I saw some more entrances on the back side. Getting to the first stage up a dusty path was easy enough but as I headed up the next the loose rock beneath my feet gave way and I skidded back down to the start. Trying a few different tacts the result was the same that I'd always end up sliding out of control in a cloud of dust back to the bottom, nearly face planting a couple times. Finally I gathered some steam and got a run at the part with the faintest of footholds and achieved the second stage!
I found one tiny empty half open enclave with no entrance. And so I looked up again. Here there were signs of a rocky 'stairwell' if you call a spattering of shallow indents straight up and to the side a stairwell. Above were metal rings implanted in the wall but the rope that was obviously supposed to be moored there to pull your way up was missing. Assessing the climb, with my series of recent rocky slides fresh in my mind, I decided it was semi dangerous. So I carefully spotted my route before beginning.
It was hairy at times, alternating footholds and hand to make sure I maintained good contact but after a couple minutes I was released from hugging the rock and had a narrow grassy pathway. It ran back around to the front and here I found another mini climb over a sharp drop. I took that too. It was only after I'd hurried to get in the self timer shot that I looked down the other side and saw the equally steep fall under the loose ground.
From this height I could enter the first chamber on the front side. It lead to another, and another and another. Some I had to pull myself up through narrow chutes a couple metres off the ground while others had actual legitimate staircase cut into the rock.
Almost every one had a breathtaking view of the cliffs and rocks and fields and balloons around. 
All the way on the far side, past the pigeon hole room, I made it outside again but the route up further looked too dicey (I do have a line).
Back through I found a tunnel going down into darkness. With the light from my camera I followed it to the first bend where it was sheer black. I cursed that I didn't have my torch but I didn't even have socks on so I decided not to follow it down.
With breakfast about to be served I came back to the climb up and now had to negotiate it down. This seemed even more dangerous but also inevitable. I took a moment to rest and enjoy the view before beginning the descent.
As stones fell away beneath me I breathed deep and followed the three points of contact rule strictly. There was another deep breath, this a sigh of relief as I reached the top of the gravel slide and then skipped and slid my way down. With a sense of accomplishment I hiked back and picked the gravel from between my toes all before breakfast!


Saturday, March 29, 2014

Not a Tweet: Cap Off

Over 200 photographs today and not one fully captures the magnificence of Cappadocia. Favourite ever hike! Thanks Lee for the suggestion.

Turkish Delight

But I'm still eating.. And now I'm dancing. Hold hands. Circle. Kick left. Kick right. Alright I can sit cross legged for a short time. Nope, accept the pom poms from the Turkish man and do as he does. Fire myself up with a few laps, poms spinning, or more like flailing. What now? We're wooing the annoying dancing tourist. Quick set of push ups. Now she's veiled and squeezing our biceps. Thumbs down? To me? Cmon lady! Guess she chose the Turkish prince. But the young Turkish girls chose me, and we're free dancing to Turkish music.. What happened to my dinner? Ah, who cares - pass the wine.

Friday, March 28, 2014

Not a Tweet: Not a Video Either

Was the vid posted in the last entry of blue dogs singing about submarines and the pictured subject matter? I couldn't verify as the foul government here has also blocked YouTube.

Thursday, March 27, 2014

Not a Tweet: Hot Balloons

Lost in Translation: Pomme de Terre

Englishish: Apple slices of potato
Where: Next to potato chips (French fries) on menu in Antalya, Turkey
Presumed Translation: Potato wedges

Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Cappadocia: More adjectives than your cappuccino order

Apparently it takes nearly a full revolution of the little hand to reach a new world.. but I'm giddy for the land of fairy chimneys and underground cities described as other-worldly/lunar and bewitching/fascinating. Cappadocia here I come (eventually)!

Tour's Description:

"..an extraordinary region of lunar-like landscapes that has bewitched travellers for centuries. We stay here for the next three nights.

Cappadocia fascinates all travellers. Shaped by wind and water, its otherworldly rock formations have to be seen to be believed. Rock hewn churches, cave homes and incredible underground cities wait to be explored. In times of peace the people in this region lived on the land but in times of war or persecution they took to living underground."

Monday, March 24, 2014

Indiana Andrushenko and the Conclusion of the Marble Cave

The beginning of the tale may be found here.

Your fitless protagonist promised to reinstate the Quest for the Marble Cave replete with the newly ascertained information regarding its whereabouts, thus, not two days removed from the previous search, he set out again. The morning was even sunnier than on the previous adventure and the temperature warmer still, forcing the man to regulate well as he achingly pushed upward along the long ascent of the steep mound which was promised to hold the jewel of his desire. Pressed for time he took merely one miraculous hour to crest the mountain and was delighted with the progress that the sweat of his brow had accomplished. As indicated by the marauding couple the entrance appeared - they proved not to be deceitful after all!

Alas the prize still alluded him as guarding the entrance were keepers of the cave. When he approached they outrightly refused him, citing a host of unacceptable excuses to deny him this victory. Surely he could reason with them! But the negotiations did not prove fruitful. Eventually he offered them a bounty to allow his entrance but they still refused without justification, muttering only apologies. He had not come this far to be quelled by a resistant troll and pressed further, reiterating the significance of the discovery and the hardships he had endured just to be standing on that spot. Through unending charm and wit he eventually swayed them and they relented, swinging the gate wide for his entrance. Inside were amazing sights that one must literally see to believe. The depths of the caverns breathtaking, and the height of the stalagmites astounding, while the length of the stalactites incredible. However the discovery to make it all worthwhile was the nearly wholly preserved skeleton of a mammoth that lay awe-strikingly in one of the many rooms of this truly magical cave. In true celebratory style they toasted not only this beast but also this heroic quest with the nectar of the land.


Not a Tweet: I'm On a Boat

Not going anywhere fast.. Two days of sun (and risk of thundershowers), sunken treasure, islands and relaxation. Everyone on tour is psyched to sleep on deck at 5°C

Sunday, March 23, 2014

Two Sides to Every Mountain

The backside of the mountain hosts an incredible snapshot in time. Following Turkey's independence war there was natural tension between the Turks and the Greeks who had resided here for generations. In a bold policy in 1923 the countries organised a population exchange such that 1.5 million Greeks immediately had to give up their homes and livelihoods to move to Greece while half a million Turks were 'returned.' With the number imbalance the Turks were welcomed home by their pick of house and in many cases business. I'll report how the Greeks fared when I get there in a few weeks time.

With such plentiful options the less hospitable villages were left by the wayside which brings us back to the backside of the mountain. Here lies the ruins of a village named Kayakov after 90 years of neglect and it is completely picturesque. Ballparked at 400 structures from houses to churches, schools to stores, the stone walls stand as testaments to the pre independence Greeks, while the roofs have all disintegrated. This picture hardly begin to do justice to the narrow streets grown over with wildflower and the water tower sprouting fully grown trees. Amazing!


Following an hour of intense hiking, first straight up and out the back of this village and then down along the boulder strewn cutbacks, another treasure is discovered. The blue lagoon is nestled among the hills and trees with water coloured true to its name. At sunset the waters are still tepid and a welcome refresher having worked up a lather up and over the mountain. It is true that Turkey has a gluttony of jewels.


Friday, March 21, 2014

Not a Tweet: Prime Turkey

TurkPM: They are saying bad things about me on the twitter and the face book and the you tube - better plug up tubes. No chance of this backfiring.. #TwitterIsBlockedInTurkey

Thursday, March 20, 2014

Tweet: Good Morning, Turkey

Now just cut it out with the 5am call to prayer. #RememberEarplugs

Tweet: Carey a Tune!

Same goes for giving up the solo, male, vocal renditions of Mariah. #Hint she wasn't singing about you. And while we're at it, why is What Is Love played without irony?

Tweet: Chill with the Willies

Eastern Europe please cease the terrible RHCP covers - just leave Dani on the other side under the bridge in California.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Profile: Liliya

Meet Liliya
- Twenty six year old from Velico Tarnovo, a picturesque former capital of Bulgaria
- Life guard, while off duty once saved a lady who was only one step away from standing on her own
- Guitar player and singer
- University educated
- Touchy feely but apologetic about it
- Former waitress of 15 hour days for 150 Euros/month
- Current exotic dancer in Italy, by reluctant choice but only to make real money
- Self-proclaimed excellent pole dancer
- Wowed audience by singing Whitney's I Will Always Love You while hanging upside down
- Stunned them to silence with (her favourite) Bryan Adam's (Everything I Do) I Do it for You
- Wishes to return to Bulgaria permanently but needs to make a decent living (a common issue with the youth in Bulgaria)
- I honestly cannot personally vouch for any of this as she informed me of all of it while seated on a live music bar stool (fully clothed)
[Photo omitted]

Sunday, March 16, 2014

Profile: Bulgaria

Meet Bulgaria

- Never part of USSR, member of EU for 6 years
- Primarily Cyrillic lettering but many important things, such as road signs also translated to English
- Seems sort of like Romania's older brother

Sidewalk Safety: Tiled or interlocked there are plenty of opportunities to catch a toe

Stray Dog Rating (out of 5): 1 dog, 4.5 cats (adjusted to leave room at the top)

Cuisine: The fries in the falafel wrap, a European thing?, seem like a good idea but I'm still on the fence. Things are quite oily and if not meat then potato based - case and point the dinner plate sized potato pancake. Zagorka Dark is tasty (how did I find you with only my very last beer?) while the lager quenches thirst well enough.

Rambling Impressions: Admittedly I groaned upon passing the border and seeing Cyrillic again but it proved less of a problem with most people speaking English wrote well and offering things such as translated menus. The natural and historical sights were interesting and plentiful making sight seeing a joy. Buses were in much better shape than anywhere this far, even offering free WiFi on intercity hauls, but you pay a (worthwhile) premium. People for the most part leave you to your own devices but are mostly pleasant especially when they realise you are a foreigner.

Profile: Romania

Meet Romania

- A small Balkan country home of Transylvania
- Centuries of political turmoil with constant invasions and wars, especially with those pesky Turks
- Had their revolution in 1989

Sidewalk Safety: Walking is fairly smooth but there are so many low hanging electrical-looking things to resist touching. No Gypsy run-ins.

Stray Dog Rating (out of 5): A pooch or two, but none in the capital, Bucharest

Cuisine: The only local cuisine I really had were soft pretzel-like rolls stuffed with green olives and cheese fresh out of the oven - I couldn't get enough and was so sad to find only one vendor vending them. Local beer was alright too, slightly bland.

Rambling Impressions: A first taste of the West in some time, it was kind of nice. Nice to have modern buses. Nice to have the people who deal with foreigners speak English (and be relatively helpful). Nice to have Latin letters and plenty of English translations. Bucharest was a thriving large city with a bumping Old Town night life while not far away were beautiful looming mountains and exquisite palaces.

Tweet: Restraint

This breakfast buffet has a platter of string cheese.. grade 6 Stefan's mind just melted!

Tweet: Guest Book Confession

Forgive me Father for I have sinned.
[I stole a pen - good pens!]

Tweet: GPS

Dilbert had suspected for some time that they might be climbing the wrong mountain

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Piste!

What a truly gorgeous day for snowboarding! I haven't seen a cloud all day unless you're counting the slight fog I watched lift from the valley early this morning from the 2550m peak. Last week's snow really set a good base too, so although conditions are getting a little slushy in the sun I think it's a worthwhile tradeoff. Only thing is the snow is getting sticky so I've got to keep my speed up to get to this next lift but this shady, coniferous tree lined path seems immune thus far. Alright, tuck.. inside line.. around this corner.. Wait, what's that in the shade? It looks dirty. Oh no, it is dirt - ah, little late for avoidance so I'll just blast through it. Nope - it's stones, glad this isn't my board. Damn, it's pure rocks. I'm on it now - not much I can do but follow my momentum which is already 3 m downhill. And.. my board has literally ground to a stop so I'm flying those few metres face first. Ow! That's my upper three layers riding up and lower four layers sliding down and I'm still skidding.
"£@¢€!" I'm surprised that exclamation of frustration didn't trigger an avalanche.
Ugh, there's mud everywhere - pants, face, jacket, other jacket, drawers, back, glasses, mitts, toque - everywhere! I'm going to be picking gravel out of my hip for hours.
How do these skiers know to go around it? And how are they resisting the urge to laugh at the obvious wreck that I am?


Trouble Will Find Me - The (Inter) National

Headed to Turkey tomorrow. I won't become complacent. Also I'm on a guided tour so all should be well. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-26594922

Tweet: Killing more than time

Over 80 people at this bus stop and there isn't one who hasn't had a smoke. Man. Woman. Child (group of "cool" 11 yr olds)

Thursday, March 13, 2014

But now, it is Impossible

Where does this phrase come from? I have never heard a native English speaker use it yet across countries, and even continents, it is quite commonly used.

And I hate it. Simply put, I despise being told that something is impossible. In every situation that this has been used it is somebody who does not want to help me, or slightly more understandably, cannot help me. The museum is closed on Friday. The wind is too severe to run the gondola. The path is washed away. The show only runs in the summer. The electricity is off. The tour needs more than one person to proceed. The bridge is out.

Whether it is the phrase or the situation or the combination it makes my blood boil and this may very well boil over into nasty words.

Please do not tell me "but now, it is impossible." Ever.

Tweet: Federenterprise

World Wrestling muted in a Bulgarian restaurant is.. still as bad as any other situation you put it in

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Tweet:More like Boss-co


"My, my! You are looking quite fine, Pavel Bure" gushes Pavel Bure to Pavel Bure.

Gimme a Lift!

Without confidence I cross back over to the other side of the road for the third time just hoping that the bus I needed would come along sometime, and would actually stop at this unmarked juncture. Another minute passes and a jalopy rolls up and down goes the window "I know where you're going - Hostel Mostel! It is right near my house, come on." Normally I'm wary of any offer, especially ones that try to guess my destination or call me "Canada" due to the flag on my pack, but this guy seems friendly and has a car full of people, plus I don't have much faith this bus will ever arrive (he concurs it won't be by for an hour). Heaving my sack in the trunk we putter off and up the hill with a tinny handheld radio blaring an upbeat Bulgarian tune. As we ramble along a high road the city can be seen across the valley so the driver points out a few sights - the fort, the university with its 5000 students and the former sugar factory. Meanwhile the birthday boy in the back seat with me restarts the same song on manual repeat and the rear of the car bottoms out in time. At the hostel door, as promised, he pulls in and retrieves my bag. I tuck him a 5 Lev bill as the negotiated "small gift" he had asked for and wave them off into the night.
As I check in I mention my interesting lift and the clerk disdainfully groans "the twins" and something else under his breath.
"Pardon?"
"We call them the assholes.."
Scammed!

To tally it up the taxi ride would have been 2 and change (all prices Bulgarian Lev) which I would have tipped to 4 with my two $2 bills. So in the end I overpaid by $1 (granted to a known scam artist) and you, my faithful followers, had something to read on your coffee break. I'm accepting donations.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

Tweet: Herring or..

Vendor: I have Mountain Dew or Crab Juice.
Homer: Bleck, ugh disgusting. I'll take the crab juice.

Tweet: Wee Ones

Ah the little things.. pleasure of a brand new journal. 96 crisp, clean pages to fill with adventure (including past week I've slacked on)

Tweet: Traveller's Woes

Tell me why I don't like Mondays: can't judge resto in new city by amount of patrons cuz all are empty #ShotInTheDark

Monday, March 10, 2014

Profile: Ukraine

Meet Ukraine

- Former Soviet country with close historical ties to Mother Russia
- Language: Ukrainian, with Russian widely used
- Birthplace and home of my paternal grandparents until fleeing in WWII
- Large country on the Black and Azov Seas, bordering Russia, Belarus, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania and Moldova
Visited: Crimea (Kerch, Yalta), Odessa
Sidewalk Safety: Serious twisted ankle threat
Stray Dog Rating (out of 5): Three cats plus a dog and a half

Ranting Impressions: Starting with the glaring caveat - I visited at a time of political instability as the federal government had recently been overthrown and pro-Russian forces took military control of the Crimean region while I was there. (See Crimean Politics)

Phew, glad that's out of the way.

On touchdown I was relieved to be there. Something felt freeing about departing Russia and despite a severe disconnect I did have some ingrained affection based on my lineage. It was also nice to have the dollar on my side to not worry that my beer bill would equal my room for the night.

To speak of the people, in general it seemed as if they did not care at all about you and were happy to ignore you and take care of themselves - ticket agents included. However those who did take an interest were so sweet, generous and caring that it makes me wonder. There were more than a few times where I was in a predicament and a local would usually respond to my plea (not necessarily offering on their own) by doing everything in their power to assist me. In Yalta I was fed, sheltered (as well as sheltered from any potentially dangerous political situations), chaperoned and genuinely cherished by a group of strangers. It was immensely welcoming.

Logistically moving around was a little tough as there was no English; online, in the stations, or spoken by attendants. That said I could almost always find someone to understand my destination and show me the way.

The food was.. only okay. Before you berate me and call me a blasphemer I suspect this is largely due to the language barrier precipitating that I could only eat in the select places that had an English menu. Even there it was slim pickings for the vegetarian, especially because the majority of my time was spent in Russian areas that retain the Russian taste for flesh.

Altogether it was an enjoyable experience with beautiful and interesting things to see and do, even in the late winter/early spring. Next time I would like to return with my family and to places in the north, including Kyiv, for perhaps a more authentic impression closer to my original expectations. And of course without the impending threat of war.

Profile: Russia

Meet Russia
- Largest country in the world, get a map and look top right
- Dissolution of Soviet Union and isolation that came with Iron Curtain occurred in 1991

Visited: Moscow, Sochi/Adler, Krasnodar
Sidewalk Safety: Fine until you step onto a street..cars, cracks, potholes
Stray Dog Rating (out of 5): Two mutts in Sochi and a small brown bird

Ranting Impressions:
Perhaps not polished but fully functional and sound, in a way that is decidedly different than in the West. The older generation, having lived behind the Iron Curtain see little need for English or the outside world. That said, capitalism has taken firm hold and can be seen everywhere. Decidedly expensive, on par with Toronto or worse, at least in the cities visited. Some young people, my generation and younger, are now attempting to learn English and are friendly. Personal space isn't really considered and queues are mostly surging masses. People are sometimes late but otherwise infrastructure is rather efficient.
Dishes are meaty and oily but some pastries are worthwhile, including cabbage stuffed breads.
The projection of the cities seems important, for example decrepit or under-construction buildings are usually covered with a building sized sheet depicting what it should or will look like. Roadways are congested but there is some semblance of order. Sidewalks are smooth and safe for the most part, unlike some other potholed Eastern European countries.
Obviously a vast country (with nearly 20 cities over a mill. population) I barely scratched the surface though I found it interesting that Krasnodar, for being a smaller city, still showed obvious signs of wealth. May be interesting to get out into a village, up into Siberia or check into the apparently beautiful St. Petersburg although Western European travelers say it doesn't look all that different from home (so perhaps not worth the visa rigmarole)

Tweet: Oh Celine Dion, you soft rock my world

Heard Celine, Avril and some old Nelly (karaoke) yesterday. Canadian women representing in Romania!

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Profile: Palace of Parliament

Meet Palace of Parliament, Bucharest

- Second largest building in the world after Pentagon (yes, larger than the pyramids)
- Guide said over 1000 rooms (other sources said 1100 which is more than 1000)
- 5 tonne chandelier with one person room inside it for cleaning
- 16m, 250kg drapes manually cleaned
- 4 tonne carpet, cleaning procedure unknown
~80m above ground
~90m below ground, including escape tunnels (for the paranoid) and allegedly 1 Olympic size swimming pool
~70% completed before 1989 revolution
>$3,000,000,000 USD price tag in today's dollars
- 3 crews working 24 hours a day took nearly 14 years to complete, apparently still not fully complete

Tweet:Running Bucharest

Only guarantee when running your own pub crawl in Old Town, Bucharest is running a heightened risk of emphysema

Tweet: A horse, of course

Triple flame extreme (beet?) purple horseradish chips. About as bad as they sound, didn't stop me from holding my breath and thinking S & V

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Tweet: Rats, I hate rats, they drive me crazy

Hadn't seen a rat all trip (smelled a few) then immediately after one scurries over my toe I also see a squished fatty on the sidewalk.

Thursday, March 6, 2014

Tweet:Mime

Anyone want to play charades? I've been practising!

Indiana Andrushenko and the Marble Cave

Raved about by legend and locals alike, the strapping young lad sets off for the Marble Cave apparently located high in the mountains outside Alushta. Having pieced together partial information about its whereabouts he is cautiously optimistic he will discover what has been described as magical but he will not rest until this is personally verified. Local transportation only goes so far before he is dumped unceremoniously roadside with little more than scraps of a map in his head based on written accounts, and determination. Stocking up on supplies (read:biscuits) he bucks the proffered taxi and sets off into the small village under the noon sun with crisp conditions. All canine attacks rebuffed the start of the journey is without incident along the dusty road until a royal purple vehicle approaches from behind and slows. A lift seems to be offered and cunning as he is he accepts in order to save energy for the tasks to come. Only minutes down the road the free ride ends and once again he is in the open air. Locals approached are either excellent liars not willing to disclose the majestic whereabouts to a foreigner or imbeciles.
A stroke of luck would come in the form of a beguiling English-speaking woman whom he befriends and through careful discussion is given not only initial directions but a head start as she walks him to a trailhead. As instructed he enters the forest where the ascent begins and steadily rises first to the ground where snow still lies then past the treeline before finally plateauing. The journey, he knows, is far from over.
Strides across the open field are interrupted by photographic documentation of the route for explorers to come but as the adventurer continues without finding his prize this effort becomes dangerously wasteful. The only sign of humanoid life comes from the abandoned vehicle on the sole mud-caked road that he traverses as he presses on. Now above the clouds, following nearly three hours of trekking, one might think that the stupendous views would be prize enough but he has bigger things on his mind.
Finally the path breaks away, down into a shadowy valley, and he hypothesises that if there were to be a near-mythical cave the entrance would be here. Alas all that he finds are snow and mud drenched pant cuffs and cutting his losses he climbs straight up and out.
Daylight is waning, threatening his determination, but his will is strong and he forges on with only a vague, haunting, dark thought of a night alone in the mountains stuffed deep in the back of his mind. Then he hears it! Voices. Weighing his options he concludes the potential glory outweighs the potential downfall and calls out. And again. Silence..
Undeterred he makes for the highest point and obvious peak, serendipitously the same presumed direction as the unanswering voices. Then he spots movement, first one and then another, and waves a greeting. Valuable leads are at stake. Cutting a beeline for the couple they firstly are able to communicate and secondly seem to know of the location. Tormenting your hero they only agree to assist him if he first leads them to the nearby precipice. Although it appears a simple endeavour their careful steps and hence sluggish progress serve to render the man further frustrated with the lack of progress. Once his end of the bargain is finally taken care of, being an honest fellow, he expects corresponding payment but is disappointed to hear them refuse, citing a lack of remaining daylight (without mention of their prolonged summit). They do however agree to provide details, and even show him the route via the apparently-not completely deserted vehicle seen earlier. Without option he accepts this agreement and with their knowledge imparted, including a return trip to the village, he resigns to return another day. It has been a full day, much of it spent relentlessly hiking with little, or potentially nothing to show for it, but the dream of the Marble Cave is too alluring to relinquish that easily and he vows that the search will continue..

Tweet:Sound the Alarm

Every car in Ukraine equipped with "Hellooo, I'm a caaar" Dane Cook alarm (or whoever he ripped the bit off of)

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Tweet: Solve the Latter

"There are only two problems in Russia: roads and fools."

Tweet:Exit Bar

Ever seen a guitarist solo with his patch cord? and then play with his tongue? and then play a solo while someone else plays ON THE SAME GUITAR?

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Profile: Soviet on a Soviet Train

Caution, the post you are about to read contains language intended for a mature audience. Wake only the mature children to let them know what Stefan has spied.

Meet Viktor

- From Odessa but does not identify as Ukrainian
- Speaks Russian, English and Italian (macaroni..spaghetti..)
- A submarine captain in the Soviet Union
- Fought in the Angora war 1982 (??) (unverified)
- Has visited Canada on cargo ships from the Pacific and Atlantic (Vancouver, Toronto, Mon'real)
- Only needs 2 hours sleep; snores throughout
- Smoker
- A man, 100%. "No, a fucking man, one hundred percent!"
- Shares, but only with Canadian young man, not Russian boy. Masdarovia!


Tweet:Ukrainian Appetite

The only meal I can order in Ukrainian #borscht #kapustaVareniky Also pictured, homemade hummus. #BabaStillBetter

Dedications

Just as the borscht pictures are dedicated to my sister Larissa (her favourite) this one goes out to Katherine.
You would have had a field day (get it?) with these apparently endangered spider-wrapped flowers. Careful though, local lore says smelling them makes you sleepy.

A Foreign Vegetarian in the CCCP

Can any dietitians among you please review my food log?

Breakfast
2 sweet pastries, often fig or jam filled
0.5l strawberry-apple juice

Morning Snack
Orange
5 cookies

Lunch
0.5l water
1/2 loaf bread and Soft cheese akin to La Vache Qui Rire (occasional)
Or
3 sweet cheese filled crepes served with fresh cream

Afternoon Snack
0.5l water
Jumbo chocolate bar

Dinner
8 cabbage stuffed perogies
2 buns
1 large bowl borscht (beat soup)

Evening
1l beer (occasional)
Or
6 cookies
Or
1.5l beer (occasional)

Do you see any deficiencies? My worry is that I'm not getting enough carbohydrates..

Monday, March 3, 2014

Crimean Politics

Please do not think me to be foolhardy for carrying on with preordained travels into what would turn out to be a potentially hazardous land. I carefully considered my actions, being as informed as possible from multiple sources, before making moves. If you are a worrier and can't get past this perhaps it's best to just skip along to another entry - or hang tight for the Quest for the Marble Cave.

When I arrived in Ukraine, specifically Kerch, the Ukrainian government in Kyiv had already essentially been toppled. Upon crossing the strait separating Russia from Ukraine I began utilising what little Ukrainian I know, unaware that this being the state of Crimea Russian is still the language of the land. My history and politics lessons picked up quickly as it soon became all anyone was concerned with. To brief you, this area was gifted to the Ukraine in 1954, then merely a symbolic gesture as all fell under the heading of the Society Union. Even with the fall of the Iron Curtain the significance was little as the two countries remained closely allied and Russia retained its strategic military bases in the region. It was not until the recent revolution in Kyiv where the government was replaced for trying to turn away from a deal with the EU to maintain its ties with Russia that the relationship then became severely strained. Further complicating the situation is that the majority of locals identify with Russia despite living in the Ukraine and are fed Russian propaganda, primarily via Russian TV, that tells them the new government is full of fascists and Nazis (I kid you not).

My first night in Kerch I met a young local fellow who ranted about Ukraine being strong and rich enough to support itself and I knew better than to stir the pot with contradictory information I had read in there news. My stay here was fine, politically uneventful though the night before I was to leave all of the restaurant and bar patrons and employees were closely tuned in to the introduction of the new government to a mostly agreeable Maiden crowd.

The day before I was to move to Simferopol I read about opposing protests outside its legislative buildings. Accounts said it was mostly civil and free of violence but that tensions were high. Only minutes before my bus was to depart did the news of the armed take over of the building reach me. Obviously unsettling I spent the hours on the bus traveling into the darkness of night fretting about the scene I would arrive at and whether I would have to traverse any dangerous scenes. I decided with this new information that instead of staying in Simferopol as planned I would take up residence in the neighbouring village of Alushta - one of my day trip destinations. As fortune should have it my bus was early to Simferopol, still after dark considering the sun sets at 5:15 due to Kyiv time, but early enough that people would still be around and they were. Furthering my good fortune as I attempted to ask where to get a bus ticket to Alushta in broken Russian the two young people I approached responded in English! They too were headed on the same bus and invited me to sit with them. One was a local who now lived in Kyiv but was visiting home while the other was from East Ukraine and now called Yalta (south of Alushta which is south of Simferopol, all in Crimea). Supremely curious I cautiously broached the politics of the day by mentioning my change of plans and they eagerly took the bait. They were all for the revolution and despite their Russian backgrounds did not side with the common sentiment of the Crimean state which is that Russia is ruler - so much so that they admitted to arguments within their own families based on their beliefs.

Arriving on the bus to Alushta they expressed concern over me heading to an unknown hotel in an unknown town in the dark. If the locals were concerned then I figured I should be as well and wavered only long enough for the trolley doors to close before deciding to take them up on their offer to stay at one of their apartments in Yalta.
After we arrived to their place another friend came over and there was much discussion in Russian which they explained away by saying 'politics'. Despite the obvious interest they didn't seem to want to dwell on it in my presence.

The next day was completely normal with respect to politics despite having read of further rising tensions in other cities in Crimea. See 'A Nearly Perfect Travel Day' post to show just how secluded I was. Mind you at dinner they translated that a friend who worked at the local television station told them it had been taken over by people with guns but that it was done civilly and they had been asked not to talk about it but to return the following day to assist in broadcasting an interview at 6 pm. He refused to provide more details.

My plan for the next day was to go to Sevastopol and visit a former secret Soviet submarine base turned museum. However just before bed my host told me of planned protests in that city for the next day, and if it was enough to spook him it was enough for me as well. Surely when I awoke the news confirmed this as well as more alarmingly that troops of unknown origin had entered the city, complete with video of a flock of military helicopters coming in to land. I altered my plans and instead went to the mountains (Marble Cave I) where my political exposure was limited. The lady in the tiny village I passed remarked that she was considering returning with her husband to St. Petersburg after two years away due to the political instability. Furthermore the couple who drove me out of the mountains took a more relaxed view. It is just rich, powerful people employing actors but there is nothing to worry about. Though I agreed with part of their sentiment I couldn't wave away the potential threat and referenced a few contradictory things but when they responded anecdotally "my father was in Sevastopol today so it must be safe" I gave up on them.

That evening when meeting with more friends there was still much discussion, though some of it was lighthearted and jokes were made, it was obviously on everyone's mind. The TV station employee was present but skirted my questions. I spoke of my hopes to still make it to the submarine museum and a couple of them agreed to accompany me which was fantastic and exciting. However when I checked again the news had worsened, with downright frightening photographs of armed patrols and vehicles in the specific suburb of the museum. One article even specifically noted the sign taped to the museum door "closed for technical reasons" hypothesising the anti submarine watercraft nearby might have something to do with it. This was also the first evening I received a direct email from the Canadian consulate asking me to "consider leaving while it is safe to do so" in obvious reference to the local airports being surrounded by unknown armed men in military uniforms that had essentiality grounded all flights.

We made other plans but each new place we went or person we met had some mention. My first overt sign was as we walked along the main seashore strip and an army tent flying Russian flags was erected in front of the statue of Lenin (found in nearly every Russian or Crimean town). Nobody mentioned the elephant right in front of us and even when I brought it up little was said. Later that day when I met some other friends separately they said they had approached to investigate but would only tell me that the things they read on their signs were not good.

Having begrudgingly given up on the subs I resigned to return to the mountains but even the tiny village of Perevalne had conflict. At first I read of the standoff at the Ukrainian military base I hadn't seen on my visit two days earlier which was surrounded by Russian troops and that one shot fired had the potential to start an all-out war. Later articles reported an uneasy truce had been called where the Russians removed their clips and the Ukrainians backed off their vehicles. By the time I climbed the mountain across town and could view it from afar there was no sign off any  movement or that the Russians had been there at all. The only other tie made was that the electricity was out in the few buildings in the mountains which people blamed on the revolution under their breath.

As of now there is no conclusion. I tend to think that the revolution in the Kyiv government is a good thing as the ousted president was almost unanimously hated and the Russian government he attempted to side with is commonly considered corrupt. The situation in Crimea is particularly delicate as the common people no longer feel at home while both governments obviously have vested interests in this remarkably beautiful region for more than its tourism. Yes, the locals may feel abandoned without Russian support but Putin should absolutely not be engaging in this militarily. I do hope that for the sake of the citizens that this is resolved diplomatically and that the violence seen thus far does not become a minor precursor to anything much more grave.

Tweet:Oh! Dessa

You, along with the @CdnConsulateKyiv, may be relieved to hear I have safely departed the now-famous Crimean region #Ukraine and am comfortably in #Odessa #StayTuned

Nearly Perfect Travel Day

Waking without an alarm, a leisurely shower while a delicious breakfast is prepared for me. Following sharing some music I head to the downtown seashore for a look around with a local to guide the way. We discover an extreme ropes course and I jump (climb and zip) at the chance. It turns out to be a whack of fun and some great laughs. The first friend must leave for work but is immediately relieved by another who is more than happy to take me on a hillside hike. We start easy, climbing to a palace for a lovely garden snack, then dig in for the final six kilometre trail ending at a cliffside castle overlooking the city at sunset. A vegetarian native speaker orders my dinner for me while I take care of the beer. Following dinner I receive an inside tour of the city's graffiti scene before returning home tuckered yet supremely satisfied.

Tweet:Grovel

Once requests, negotiations and bribery have failed I'm not above begging. Especially when it results in entrance to the cave + bonus #vodka, Crimean apple