Various bits and pieces collected up over the last few weeks.
We’re back in Ankara. I just read my wife’s blog and I think she put it well…what was once so foreign has become familiar. We are…home. It was nice to come home this time around. I was pretty wiped out by the time we got…home. I did as much as I possibly could in the last month. Oh, it was great, don’t get me wrong. It was worth it, but, it took its tole, and my health suffered a bit for it. The last week and a bit was lovely…lovely indeed. We went to the Isle of Wight, just off the south central part of England. I use the term lovely because that’s what it was…very quaint, very picture perfect, almost surreal. Lovely thatched roof houses, neat and tidy pubs, villages, rolling hills, white cliffs, picturesque views, loads of history, beaches, and amusements galore! How they crammed so much on one island, I dunno. There was so much that we could have done…what we could have seen. Thousands of tourists do every year. And yet, somehow, there remains a rural, farming culture and large areas of green space, and many of the islands traditions have survived. Our little cottage/holiday home was, again, lovely! Eve, the owner was….lovely! Okay, it was just all so lovely. Lovely.
But, there is an underside. Behind the picture perfect exterior, there is some frays and tarnish. There are a great number of closed up shops, public drinking, unruly behaviour, by…you know…them teens that possess so much evil. Nah, okay, that isn’t true, but there definitely is an element of very disrespectful punks in English culture that seems so extreme in many ways, and is rather baffling. What has created this? Why are a select group within British Society seemingly so out of control? Sure, this does happen in many countries, but, it just seems so…extreme…so intense at times in Britain. Mind you, I haven’t heard of many kids beheading a sleeping passenger on a Greyhound Bus. It does have to all be put into perspective. I mean, it’s not that all is doom and gloom under the surface, and I don’t see England as being a land of lawlessness, anarchy and chaos…but…well….who knows. Lack of space? High prices? Lack of jobs? Parental issues? Who knows. Maybe, as I get older, I’m getting that “society is getting worse” thing happening…that I look back at the good old days and how kids are so much worse these days. But…it probably isn’t. Is it?
Tennyson Downs was one of my favourite places on the Isle. We strolled through a beautiful, stereotypically English pasture, complete with cows and a giant monument marking the spot where Tennyson sat, overlooking the channel between England and France, thought and wrote. Ahhh, Tennyson…what a glorious man who has contributed to the world in such a profound way, and who brought much attention to the Isle of Wight. I just wish I knew who he was.
I collected some sea shells at the other end of the Island from our Collwell Bay and the town of Freshwater after three bus changes and over an hour and half of riding through, what admittedly was lovely countryside. But, I have learned that when you collect them, you must dry them and clean them, or when you get them home and open the plastic bag you leave them in, you will want to vomit. Needless to say, we no longer have the shells. But, I still have the rocks I collected that at least LOOK like dinosaur bones, if they aren’t actually dinosaur bones. They’re probably old chicken bones from a fast food restaurant that have petrified. Or, cow toes. Wait, cows don’t have toes, I suppose.
August 6, 2008
Holy crap. We have a baby coming. It’s coming…soon. In only a few months! It’s actually going to happen. Now what? Everytime I look at Elyssa, I see a growing belly, and in that belly, there is our baby! Indeed, this is good…very good…BUT…it’s still rather scary. We’re pretty much set up. Our unborn baby has more, and better clothes than I have EVER had, I think. He’s going to be a very stylish little guy. I hope he doesn’t get all cocky about it and won’t want to hang out with us.
So, now, what to do BEFORE the baby comes? Things will change, there is no doubt about it. So, we still have a few months to go…and a few last chances to travel before bebek comes. Mind you, the hope is to still be able to keep doing our thing even after the birth and show our little one as much of the world as we can.
I am excited though, I must stress that. It is an amazing time…a big event…the next step…and it feels right…it feels like the right time…and it feels wonderful. I will be a dad. One day, I can see me, my dad and my son all at the race track, getting pelted by clay, and loving it!
August 14, 2008
His long black coat must have been so incredibly hot under the intense sun. The breeze that caught it and blew it around his ankles…the same one that sent his long, wavy, grey hair tangling in the wind…may have helped. In his hand was a staff…a black staff. He stared, but at nothing. It was just something to keep his eyes fixated while his mind churned and betrayed him.
There were only 5 storeys, but it would most likely be enough.
His fifteen minutes…and he couldn’t enjoy it. The crowds gathered, the fire trucks and police cars jammed the street below. People waited, wondered. There wasn’t sadness, but more of a sick detachment illustrated by cellphone cameras being clicked, a seeming boredness, a hope that the action would get under way soon. During this mans most private, intimate moment…possibly facing his own death by his own actions…he became a sideshow freak.
I don’t know what happened to him. I couldn’t watch. He was in a tough place. He was at a point that too many people get to…some coming away from the edge…others going over. I understood him, to a degree. I couldn’t help him, though I felt like I knew exactly what to say…but probably couldn’t, given the language barrier. I knew, to an extent where he was. I knew that there were other answers.
August 16, 2008
In a few hours, we’ll be hitting the road again. This time, off to Olympos, on the Mediterranean, in the south of Turkey. It will be a new country that we haven’t experienced yet…a place that promises to be quite different from any others that we have gone to. It’s a hot spot…one of those beach holidays…a haven for backpackers and tourists from the world looking for a tan and a good time. Not me. I’m never looking for a good time. Well, what I mean is, I’m not looking for the same kinda good time. I like my own kinda good time, which is seldom the same kinda good time that most others seem to enjoy, because it never involves alcohol, wild partying and fun. My kind of good time is serious business. You can’t just go wiley-niley having fun. You gotta focus, analyze, contemplate, and get serious about enjoyment.
August 26, 2008
Yup. Completely worn out now. This traveling stuff can get tiring! But, worth it? Without a doubt. It was amazing in the south, on the Mediterranean, or as the cool kids call it, the Med. The clear, blue, warm water felt so good after baking in the sun. It was HOT. Oh man, it was hot. I mean, we went to Egypt in June and we thought that was hot. Well, okay, it was…very hot. But this was hot with high humidity. What were we thinking?? August? Well, it just so happens that, timing wise, that was the best opportunity. We took it, and we almost melted as a result. But, it was still amazing. The history, the natural beauty, the frickin’ crazy Turkish drivers!!!! Seriously, passing on blind corners on the edge of a mountain when the line clearly says “DON’T”, while cruising along at 120 kph in 50 zones! Holy geez. I can’t believe we survived. And guard rails? Why would they install those? Not that they would help. And no shoulder on the road…just road, and two inches, and then a deep plunge into the sea below! It’s never a dull moment on Turkish roads. I mean, Turks are very warm, wonderful people who welcome tourists with open arms…but get them behind the wheel, and suddenly the meekest of grandmothers become speed demon stunt drivers hell bent on dominating the road!
We also saw Santa Claus’s home town!
But, there is an underside. Behind the picture perfect exterior, there is some frays and tarnish. There are a great number of closed up shops, public drinking, unruly behaviour, by…you know…them teens that possess so much evil. Nah, okay, that isn’t true, but there definitely is an element of very disrespectful punks in English culture that seems so extreme in many ways, and is rather baffling. What has created this? Why are a select group within British Society seemingly so out of control? Sure, this does happen in many countries, but, it just seems so…extreme…so intense at times in Britain. Mind you, I haven’t heard of many kids beheading a sleeping passenger on a Greyhound Bus. It does have to all be put into perspective. I mean, it’s not that all is doom and gloom under the surface, and I don’t see England as being a land of lawlessness, anarchy and chaos…but…well….who knows. Lack of space? High prices? Lack of jobs? Parental issues? Who knows. Maybe, as I get older, I’m getting that “society is getting worse” thing happening…that I look back at the good old days and how kids are so much worse these days. But…it probably isn’t. Is it?
Tennyson Downs was one of my favourite places on the Isle. We strolled through a beautiful, stereotypically English pasture, complete with cows and a giant monument marking the spot where Tennyson sat, overlooking the channel between England and France, thought and wrote. Ahhh, Tennyson…what a glorious man who has contributed to the world in such a profound way, and who brought much attention to the Isle of Wight. I just wish I knew who he was.
I collected some sea shells at the other end of the Island from our Collwell Bay and the town of Freshwater after three bus changes and over an hour and half of riding through, what admittedly was lovely countryside. But, I have learned that when you collect them, you must dry them and clean them, or when you get them home and open the plastic bag you leave them in, you will want to vomit. Needless to say, we no longer have the shells. But, I still have the rocks I collected that at least LOOK like dinosaur bones, if they aren’t actually dinosaur bones. They’re probably old chicken bones from a fast food restaurant that have petrified. Or, cow toes. Wait, cows don’t have toes, I suppose.
August 6, 2008
Holy crap. We have a baby coming. It’s coming…soon. In only a few months! It’s actually going to happen. Now what? Everytime I look at Elyssa, I see a growing belly, and in that belly, there is our baby! Indeed, this is good…very good…BUT…it’s still rather scary. We’re pretty much set up. Our unborn baby has more, and better clothes than I have EVER had, I think. He’s going to be a very stylish little guy. I hope he doesn’t get all cocky about it and won’t want to hang out with us.
So, now, what to do BEFORE the baby comes? Things will change, there is no doubt about it. So, we still have a few months to go…and a few last chances to travel before bebek comes. Mind you, the hope is to still be able to keep doing our thing even after the birth and show our little one as much of the world as we can.
I am excited though, I must stress that. It is an amazing time…a big event…the next step…and it feels right…it feels like the right time…and it feels wonderful. I will be a dad. One day, I can see me, my dad and my son all at the race track, getting pelted by clay, and loving it!
August 14, 2008
His long black coat must have been so incredibly hot under the intense sun. The breeze that caught it and blew it around his ankles…the same one that sent his long, wavy, grey hair tangling in the wind…may have helped. In his hand was a staff…a black staff. He stared, but at nothing. It was just something to keep his eyes fixated while his mind churned and betrayed him.
There were only 5 storeys, but it would most likely be enough.
His fifteen minutes…and he couldn’t enjoy it. The crowds gathered, the fire trucks and police cars jammed the street below. People waited, wondered. There wasn’t sadness, but more of a sick detachment illustrated by cellphone cameras being clicked, a seeming boredness, a hope that the action would get under way soon. During this mans most private, intimate moment…possibly facing his own death by his own actions…he became a sideshow freak.
I don’t know what happened to him. I couldn’t watch. He was in a tough place. He was at a point that too many people get to…some coming away from the edge…others going over. I understood him, to a degree. I couldn’t help him, though I felt like I knew exactly what to say…but probably couldn’t, given the language barrier. I knew, to an extent where he was. I knew that there were other answers.
August 16, 2008
In a few hours, we’ll be hitting the road again. This time, off to Olympos, on the Mediterranean, in the south of Turkey. It will be a new country that we haven’t experienced yet…a place that promises to be quite different from any others that we have gone to. It’s a hot spot…one of those beach holidays…a haven for backpackers and tourists from the world looking for a tan and a good time. Not me. I’m never looking for a good time. Well, what I mean is, I’m not looking for the same kinda good time. I like my own kinda good time, which is seldom the same kinda good time that most others seem to enjoy, because it never involves alcohol, wild partying and fun. My kind of good time is serious business. You can’t just go wiley-niley having fun. You gotta focus, analyze, contemplate, and get serious about enjoyment.
August 26, 2008
Yup. Completely worn out now. This traveling stuff can get tiring! But, worth it? Without a doubt. It was amazing in the south, on the Mediterranean, or as the cool kids call it, the Med. The clear, blue, warm water felt so good after baking in the sun. It was HOT. Oh man, it was hot. I mean, we went to Egypt in June and we thought that was hot. Well, okay, it was…very hot. But this was hot with high humidity. What were we thinking?? August? Well, it just so happens that, timing wise, that was the best opportunity. We took it, and we almost melted as a result. But, it was still amazing. The history, the natural beauty, the frickin’ crazy Turkish drivers!!!! Seriously, passing on blind corners on the edge of a mountain when the line clearly says “DON’T”, while cruising along at 120 kph in 50 zones! Holy geez. I can’t believe we survived. And guard rails? Why would they install those? Not that they would help. And no shoulder on the road…just road, and two inches, and then a deep plunge into the sea below! It’s never a dull moment on Turkish roads. I mean, Turks are very warm, wonderful people who welcome tourists with open arms…but get them behind the wheel, and suddenly the meekest of grandmothers become speed demon stunt drivers hell bent on dominating the road!
We also saw Santa Claus’s home town!