Welcome To The Jungle, We Got Guns And Grenades

Although we were hesitant to leave Thailand, Chase and I headed back to the Bangkok International Airport to catch our flight to Ho Chi Minh City. By the time we arrived, it was extremely late and raining so we retired to the Diep Anh Guesthouse, our humble abode for the next few days.

We awoke the next morning to severe rain. Cats and dogs if you will.  The terrible weather threw a kink in the day, so, instead of checking out the Bien Thanh Market and War Museum, we hung around the hostel to plan the rest of our stay in  Vietnam. After organizing two, full day trips, we tried some of the local cuisine, Pho Bo, and headed back to the guesthouse.  We remained in our room for the rest of the day in order to catch up on the blog and finalize other travel arrangements for upcoming stops. Our first trip was scheduled to leave early the next morning so we grabbed so more Vietnamese food, this time broth with three types of meat, and tucked ourselves in early.

The next morning, a bus picked us up on the main street near our guesthouse and headed north for the Cao Dai Temple and Cu Chi Tunnels. After driving over two hours, we arrived in Tay Ninh, home of the temple.  As we stepped off the bus, we could not believe how beautiful the different colors and designs were. Cao Dai, meanng “High Tower”, is a religion of nearly 2 million people and combines the likes of Taoism, Confucianism, Hinduism, and Christianity. Cao Dai's pantheon of saints includes such diverse figures as the Buddha, Confucius, Jesus Christ, Muhammad, Pericles, Julius Caesar, Joan of Arc, Victor Hugo, and the Chinese revolutionary leader Sun Yat-sen. Luckily, we arrived around noon, just in time to catch the 45 minute service. It was very impressive.

The temple service was great to see, but Chase and I were more excited to see the Cu Chi tunnels. After driving an hour towards Ho Chi Minh (or Saigon or HCMC), we pulled off the road and headed into the jungle.  It was intimidating.  Narrow pathways lead our group to numerous huts, each hut filled with interesting artifacts and displays from the Vietnam War. The first hut, an probably the most gruesome one, was filled with different booby traps that the Cu Chi guerillas used against the American and South Vietnamese soldiers. Remember: Although the Cu Chi were from the South, they fought for the north and used their tunnels as a backbone for the VC’s attack on Saigon. Anyway, anything from a swinging door trap to a simple hole filled with bamboo sticks was in this hut. Our tour guide, Slim Jim, was nice enough to show us how they worked so we didn’t have to get too close. Displays in the other huts included: three armed guerillas in fighting attire; one destroyed US tank; and a work site where guerillas made bombs, traps and clothes.

Our next stop was the fring range. No history involved, just some serious shooting with heavy ammo. Our weapon of choice was the M-30.After touring the huts and shooting, it was our turn to walk through the tunnels. It was extremely tough to get a lot of good pictures in the tunnels because of how narrow and dark each section was but we did our best. FYI: the labyrinth of intricate tunnels we walked through was twice the size of the actual ones used during the war and only meant for tourists. The actual tunnels are off limits and filled with snakes and darkness. However, after seeing the pictures below, it is not difficult to imagine how small the actual tunnels are.

After crawling through a small section of the tunnels, we re-surfaced a couple hundred meters away from the starting point to meet Slim Jim. It was nice to see his face. I do not recommend the tunnels to anyone who has asthma or claustrophobia. For the last portion of the tour, Slim Jim sat us down in the last hut for a educational film on the Cu Chi Guerillas. The film was extremely biased but great to see. Our favorite part was the scene where a lady guerilla and a sniper are awarded  “American Killer Hero” awards. (That is seriously what it was called) It was also nice to see clips taken during the actual war to get a real sense of what it would have been like fighting. Real guerillas shooting at us plus the severe rain we experienced in HCMC the day before was too much to fathom.  We spent the entire bus ride home thinking about how lucky we are to have never been thrown into a fierce and unforgiving battle-ground like that.

What's The Capital of Thailand?

If your rusty on capitals and/or American Pie 2 quotes, the answer is Bangkok. We traced back to the major landmass of Thailand following a taxi, ferry, and another long bus ride north to Bangkok. We finally arrived in the early evening and immediately snagged a taxi to take us to KhoaSan Road. Unfortunately, we were already pretty much there as our driver looped around the block and took us to the opposite side of the main street. Blaring tunes accompanied by teenage break-dancers and neon lights dominated the tightly packed street carrying a scent of delicious Pad Thai and exotic fruit. We made it to the D & D Inn hotel and were lucky to book a room for our one and only night in Bangkok. The receptionist joyfully gave Garrett and I a chuckle, as we identified our first lady boy of many. We were now vigilant.

 Friends from Dartmouth that had been working in the area, Thea (also with the great last name, Sutton) and Tara, were so kind to meet up with us and show us around the streets for some Friday night fun. It was pleasant having these two smiling faces guide us around. We sat down on a patio that overlooked the street scene, chatted for a bit, and polished off a Singha beer tower before taking back to the streets. The girls introduced us to some delicious exotic fruit that tasted like jolly ranchers prior to picking up a round of inexpensive chicken kebabs. After, we were directed to the Brick House, a popular live music bar where local college students gathered for some singing and dancing. Along the way, I witnessed a tall and large footed transgender attempt to grab Garrett’s arm. Garrett quickly shrugged him off and left the man falling backwards to the curb where he belonged. We had made it to the bar and were introduced to the Thai Sea.

It was extremely different being in a bar where we were the only white people in the crowd. Thai friends gathered with us for pictures as we enjoyed the longhaired blonde drummer rock his face off with his band of brothers. Our crew of four purchased drinks at the lower bar and walked upstairs in hopes of a better view of the performance. College students held down the upstairs with little room to move so we ended up getting a table to really relish the moment. People watching had never been so fun. It was early in the morning and the lights flickered, signaling it was time to leave. One college student in particular did not have as much fun as the rest of the bar. She lay swaying and incoherent face down on the bench as her friends attempted to help her down the stairs. She continued by striking at her helping friends and instigating a madhouse. Luckily, we were able to swiftly slip by the scene and head downstairs out of the commotion. We proceeded back on the streets, noticing that little had changed since we first went in the bar. With people persisting to dance and shadow the street, we agreed to stop at the Lava Club for a different view of Bangkok nightlife. Once again, great music and friendly people made the club a fun place to cap the night. The morning pushed further and we said our goodbyes to the pair of T’s as we made it back to the D & D Inn for a comfortable night of sleep before leaving for Vietnam the next day.

Party Paradise: Koh Phangan

Our original plan for Thailand was to stay in Bangkok all four nights. However, the moment our flight attendant notified the plane that we were getting in a half hour early, we had to call an audible. With an early arrival, we could catch the last night bus to Surat Thani and get on the early morning ferry to Koh Phangan. Koh Phangan is one several islands off the eastern coast of Thailand and more importantly, home of the famous Full Moon Party. The Full Moon Party had already happened but a few fellow travelers told us that the island was worth checking out because there is a party every night. We knew they were right.

After almost 9 hours on the road, we exited the bus and rested at a café in Surat Thani. It was now morning so we munched on some breakfast snacks while waiting for another bus to take us to the ferry. After another hour of waiting, we made it to the ferry and secured our sports on the bow of the boat. Koh Samui was the first stop on the boat ride. It took nearly an hour to get to and seemed to be a destination for couples and honeymooners. Chase and I hadn’t moved much further beyond our relationship status of friends since the beginning trip so we stuck with the boat for another two hours.  By mid day we were on the island and en route to our bungalow. Several backpackers on the bus recommended staying at the Coral Bungalow so we went directly there on a limb. We knew they were right though.

 

Coral Bungalow’s was one of the finer establishments on the island and conveniently located on the beach; the same beach where the full moon party is held. Our room was the definition of luxury after our accommodations in India.  We have never been happier seeing toilet paper and a usable toilet in our room.  After walking along the beach and grabbing lunch, we took a much-needed siesta and prepared for the evening festivities.  Next on our plate was dinner and it couldn’t have looked any better.  Chase and I ordered two plates of pork Pad Thai and polished them off before the server could get us our silverware. So good. With dinner past us, we ordered a few more rounds of Chang beer and waited in the main dining area for things develop. It didn’t take much time to pick up and before we knew it the room was packed. We joined a table of twin brothers from Holland and fellow Dutchmen for some card games and good laughs. People from Holland are awesome.

Our table grew and grew with people as the night went on. Unfortunately, our fun times at the resort had to end, as our entire table had to catch a party bus to the Ban Tai Jungle for the “Jungle Experience”. Covered in fluorescent paint and ready for a great night, we made it to the jungle safely. There was one problem though. The party had been moved to the beach directly next to our bungalow where the full moon party is located.  It ended up working out and we made it to the beach fashionably late for some drinking and dancing.

We went to bed pretty late so our day started at noon once again. We were actually pretty impressed with ourselves. Scooters are the most popular form of transportation on the island so Chase and I decided to rent two; just to fit in with the locals. The next 5 hours whizzed by as we drove around the entire southern coast of the island. The views were amazing and we got to see what the island was like outside of the resorts and hotels. There wasn’t much but we did stumble upon a Thai track meet. They were pretty slow.

Before we turned in the scooters, we met up with the Dutch twins at the beach and relaxed for an hour or so before retiring to our bungalow. After cleaning up, we joined them again for dinner and drinks. We would remain there for the rest of the night. The Coral Bungalow was hosting its “World Famous Pool Party”, attracting Westerners and Foreigners from all over the island. Again, convenient.  It actually had a sign that said no locals allowed. This meant no cute, Thai lady-boys L. More body painting and more partying occurred in the pool and by the bar until early in the morning. Luckily we were up early enough to catch our bus back to Bangkok.

3 for 3: India

Upon arriving in Delhi, our hopes were higher than we should have imagined. The pleasant and conveniently structured airport led us directly to the metro station. Little did we know, this 20-minute metro ride would be our last gasps of refreshing air before arriving up the tunnel into a sea of stench. After passing several unconscious dogs that blocked the flow of pedestrian traffic up the stairs into Delhi, we were shockingly welcomed by dead rats and obnoxious taxi drivers. After negotiating with a flood of swarming drivers, we were finally able to agree on one to take us to our hostel. With minutes notice, we were instead taken to a travel agency. The agent proceeded to tell us that our hostel was closed and advised us to check in to another hotel. This was complete debauchery, as we were aware of these scam attempts from previously encountered scumbags.  We held our ground and demanded the driver to take us to the Main Bazaar in Paharganj, New Delhi. If we received a penny for every honk we heard on our ride, we would be retired men. It was as though they use their horns as a form of conversation. Poverty was a misinterpretation of the Indian lifestyle. We knew that we would be in one of the most insufficient and malnourished places on earth, but actually being surrounded by it really opened our eyes and made us realize how lucky we truly are. The Bobby Potty Porter John fragrance that filtered the dirty streets continued to get ever worse as we narrowed in on the capital of New Delhi.

As we hopped out of the ultra mini 3-wheel cab, we were instantly bombarded with crowds of begging handicapped street vendors trying to sell food, clothes, postcards, etc. We would ignore them or aggressively stress “NO,” but they would still continue to bother us and follow for lengthy periods. We walked a few hundred meters on the main Bazaar before reaching our hostel, a highly recommended establishment located down one of the many cramped alleyways. We arrived to the Smyle Inn and were glad to be at a point where we could put down our bags and relax in a safe haven.  It was early morning and we had little rest so we were ready to get a few hours of sleep, but were held up waiting for the rookie receptionists. It was almost as though they didn’t know they were working a business and instead thought they were trying to make friends and socialize. Finally, we received our key and were able to lie down in our room that was portrayed as being much cleaner and more furnished than anticipated. Sleeping until the early evening was much needed, but we woke up puzzled by where the heck we were going to eat.

As we left our side street alleyway and approached the Main Bazaar, a lighted café caught our eye, mainly because it was crowded with tourists. After verifying that the rest of the area only had street food, we went back to Café Nirvana and sat down for a bowl of chicken fried rice. Realizing that it took ten minutes to deliver a soda and over an hour to make chicken fried rice, we understood that service was not a main priority for this restaurant. We thought it might have something to do with the lack of competition from outside Delhi vendors.  The place had about five people who appeared as workers but decided to sit and watch instead. Electricity was also not a priority for the café, as we sat in darkness on multiple occasions while waiting for our food. Although the service was horrendous, it only cost us $3 and would act as our own personal restaurant for the remainder of our stay. During our meal, we were also joined by two Indian police officers that came inside and screamed at one of the younger workers. With confusion about what was going on, we quickly scattered.

The next morning, we had to figure out how we would purchase a train ticket south for Agra to see the Taj Mahal. After finding out that the train was booked for the next day and a fee would be required through the hostel, we decided to figure it out on our own at the train station. After checking our email in the lobby area, we met a solo traveler from San Diego named David. We joined forces with David and convinced him to come with us to the train station. It was only a minute walk from the hostel but it was an entire day of figuring out our travels. As we arrived to the station, many locals tried to veer us in the wrong direction but we ignored them and entered through to what we thought was the ticket office. Apparently, everyone at the train station tried to lead us in the opposite direction. It’s like they were all conspiring together to piss us off. We walked all the way across a bridge to the other side of the station, asked the tourist office, then asked some Spaniards, but were still left with unanswered questions about where the hell to buy a ticket. We spent a half-day of frustration and confusion at the train station before we decided to head back and pay the extra fee from the hostel for the tickets. This took the receptionist an hour to obtain for us before we were all set for our train ride the next morning. We spent the next few hours wandering along the Bazaar and made a few purchases while bargaining with the local merchants. They don’t budge much on their prices. The night ended after another meal in Café Nirvana. Curry was delicious but we paid the price later that evening.

We woke up and were on our way to the train station with David at 4:45. We passed men carrying heavy loads of sand in large baskets balanced on their heads along with many sleeping on the sides of the bazaar on piles of trash. Surprisingly, we found the departure platform with ease. Sitting inside of a dumpster for three hours would have been better than riding the mobile jail cell down to Agra. Along the way, we passed villages of houses made from scrap wood, mud, sticks, and any type of metal they could find. An abundance of homeless cows, dogs, and goats filtered through the villages that lay along the train tracks. People were taking dumps along the train tracks while staring at us passengers as we rattled by, as though it were some sort of hobby or fetish. Our freedom was reestablished as we jumped off the train and entered the first taxi headed to the Taj Mahal. Luckily, we arrived to the main gate after being instructed by the driver about the potential dangers and risks provided around the site and were not overwhelmed with a large crowd because it was morning. This was comical because he was actually overcharging us at the time. As we walked down another vendor avenue, we finally found a way to prevent these unbearable salesmen from following us. We figured out that by repeatedly asking them if they wanted something before they could get a word in, they would become confused and annoyed just like we were. When this method did not work, we would also perform a move known as “Sharking”. Similar to the circular, feeding tactic sharks use on their prey to create confusion, we slowly and casually circled the vendors until they were dizzy and disoriented. Sharking them and asking if they would like a taxi or photo proved to be a deadly combination.

Riding a three-hour train that smells like garbage and dealing with the unbearable hecklers was extremely worth it. We were at the Taj Mahal. The symmetrical masterpiece stood before us and possessed the Muslim jewel of art. Embellished with Persian, Turkish, and Indian style architecture by Mughal emperor Shah Jahan, the Taj appeared to be unreal. We walked all around the amazing piece, taking tons of pictures and venturing inside the tomb, the central focus point of the Taj Mahal. This is where we saw the tombs of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal. We then exited the tomb to the south side, which provided a spectacular view of the Yamuna River, filled with herds of cows and other animals along the banks. We became one with the Taj as we laid down on the smooth white marble prior to leaving for the Agra Fort.

The Agra Fort was powerful as it enclosed the imperial city of the Mughal rulers. It was interesting to learn that Agra’s history goes back to more than 2,500 years, but it took until the time when the Mughals controlled that Agra became more than a local city. The Fort was massive as we had several hours to kill wandering throughout its quarters and capturing many more pictures. The time came where we had to hop back in the trashcan and travel back to Delhi. This time, we jumped up on the top bunk of the train and lay down for a hot and seemingly longer ride back. Accomplished the Taj Mahal and Red Fort along with reversing psychology of street vendors turned out to be a well worth experience in India.

Once we got back to the Main Bazaar, we were all thinking beer. After spending an hour looking for a bar and being lied to by several places about liquor licenses, we had finally found one. After a warm Fosters and funny stories from David about how he was challenged by a whole bar of Chinese men to an arm wrestling contest, it was time to get some rest for our escape from India.

Wide awake the next morning and ready to get to Thailand, we were checking out of the Smyle Inn. Unfortunately, our lazy eyed receptionist did not give us a price to pay for the stay. He repetitively asked us if we were leaving and we told him approximately ten times before he finally understood. He had our passports copied so we knew we needed to pay some amount but he didn’t know how much so we just proceeded to tell him ourselves. Please do not go to the Smyle Inn Hostel if you may find your travels in Delhi.

Other than the smell, annoying vendors, poor service, and abundance of scam attempts, India was a great experience. It gave us a better understanding of what else is out there and how different cultures can be from each other. Not to mention, we spent less than $100 for three days.  Onward to the Land of Thai.  

Grabbing Istanbul By The Horns

The pub-crawl caused us to wake a little later than expected so our plans had to adapt to the tardy start. Luckily for us, Mehmet “The Legend” Shark was there to save the day. He offered to drive a group of us to Black Sea for the day because of the exceptional beaches. After all 8 of us met outside the hostel, we began walking to his car. We thought he was joking when he pointed at the small Honda Civic parked on the sidewalk. He was not. All 8 of us crammed into the car for over an hour, both ways, to experience that Black Sea. It was definitely worth it. Mehmet’s fun attitude and crazy driving skills kept the rides interesting. We also almost ran out of gas at one point and ended up coasting into a gas station on fumes.

We kept a low profile after the beach and made it to bed early. The next morning, it was refreshing to wake up with the energy for an active day. Our first stop was the Topkapi Palace. The palace was the residence of all of the Ottoman Sultans from the 1450’s to the 1850’s.  Today, the palace continues to bring in tourists from all over the globe and is considered one of the top three attractions in Istanbul. With a great view of the Marmara Sea, we both wandered around the palace’s garden, apartments and halls for over an hour.

Due to the palace’s location in Istanbul, next, it only made sense to check out one of the island’s off the coast of Turkey on the Asian side of the country. After an hour-long ferry, we found ourselves on the shore of Buyakada, the largest and most popular of the 5 islands. The moment we stepped off the ferry, our friends from Holland magically appeared. The group of four, led by our favorite Dutchmen, “Eagle”, joined us immediately after we performed “The Eagle Has Landed Call”. We were now a wolf pack of six, roaming the streets of Buyakada looking for beaches and Turkish Pizza. Interestingly enough, we saw a house catch on fire while we waited for our Pides (the pizza). Pretty random but we got a story out of it.

Unfortunately for the wolfpack, the beach consisted of large rocks and rough water. The water felt great but it was pretty dangerous to stay in the water for a long period of time. After a quick dip, we got back on the ferry and headed back towards the hostel because we had a date; a date with two, large and hairy Turkish men at the local bath. It was awkward at first, as both men were pretty rough on us. However, after a good amount of tough loving, they scrubbed us down and worked out all of the kinks in our bodies.  You haven’t had your back cracked until you have a Turkish man flatten your spine on a marble table. After getting punished on the marble, we exited the shower potion of our bath and went into the main lobby for a cup of tea. It was all very relaxing and quite the authentic experience. A walk home along the shore allowed us to grab a famous fish sandwich and fill up just enough before we hit the streets of Taksim for our last night. The first bar we entered ended up being the hangout for a group of Turkish TV stars. We had never heard of them but that didn’t stop us from telling them that we were huge fans and drinking with them for free. It was a great time for our last evening Turkey.

Our flight to India the next day was in the middle of the day so we couldn’t do much. However, arriving at the airport was just what we needed to make our stay in Istanbul perfect. Upon entering the food court, we noticed that Popeye’s was in business. Spicy Chicken and fries never tasted so good; and of course, we washed it all down with a soda and some BUTTERMILK BISCUITSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.

Gobble, Gobble

The next day, Daniel was kind enough to drop us off at the Tel Aviv airport for our flight to Istanbul.  We quickly realized that arriving three hours ahead of time was not good enough, at least according to the entire airport staff. This moment was pure frustration to say the least. The everlasting process, a twenty-person line, turned into a two hour wait as we were watching the entire staff lolly gag around and not take their job seriously. First off, the security lady drilled us about what we were doing in Israel and where we were traveling. We expected this question to come forth but not, “how many brothers and sisters do you have/how old are they?” type of questions that lasted a brutal ten minutes. After more conflictions, our bags passed through the security belt but a required sticker on Garrett’s bag fell off and he was demanded to resubmit his bag. Time was ticking quickly as the lazy workers gathered around socializing like it was some sort of Speak Easy bar we attended to in London. Our flight was leaving shortly and we still had to wait for inspector officers to go through our bag and test every article of clothing. Our bags were finally ‘bomb free’ and we were able to cut the next security line in order to show up to our gate minutes before departure. In summary, I hope no one has to go through this dreadful nightmare of an experience.

As we arrived to Turkey, things were looking a whole lot brighter than the Tel Aviv airport. A quick cab ride to the city of Istanbul was en route and we were ready to get involved with what Bernard said was a “must see city”. After weaving through traffic along the coast of Istanbul, we had made it to the lively and welcoming Orient Hostel. It was nestled in Sultanahmet, the historical peninsula of Istanbul, on a narrow stone road running parallel to the water with hookah bars, hostels and inviting outdoor restaurants. With surprise, an exchange of high fives and pounding fists between the friendly Turkish staff and us made way. Honestly, we weren’t sure if this was some sort of fluke or that this hostel actually contained true outgoing employees. We were quickly checked in to our six-person dorm room and back on the front porch to enjoy an Efes draft beer tower and chicken kebabs with French fries. This snack was crucial. After travelers started to vanish from the front patio we were confused as one of the Turks advised us that they had an upper deck bar. As we topped the hostel, fireworks began to fill the sky along with a late mosque service that lit up the surrounding darkness. Everyone was having a good time drinking Efes, smoking hookah, and getting to know each other. This was the ideal hostel scene that we anticipated. After, we felt it necessary to take in the Turk culture and smoke some hookah ourselves, or what they call a water pipe. We lounged in a relaxing hookah lounge, socialized with our neighbors, and called it a great start to our time in Turkey.

Morning loomed, as we got ready to leave for a busy day of walking around the city to see the spectacular sights and feast on authentic kebabs. We met Rob, a nice roommate from Los Angeles who provided an abundance of energy to our early start. We asked the receptionist about the sites to see and were given a map and a quick briefing on the matter. We first stopped at the Blue Mosque. The Blue Mosque was only a two-minute walk but we learned that the mosque would close every time they would have a service for Muslim practice. We waited an hour but it was well worth it as we got to peek in the windows to watch and hear their worship. The mosque was massive, possessing the most beautiful mosaic artwork I had ever seen. Although called the blue mosque, it wasn’t particularly that blue, but it still provided the beauty and admiration of a Muslim masterpiece. Next, we walked to the AyaSofya, a church that was built around 400 A.D. by the crusaders. but later demolished, conquered, and taken over by the Ottomans. It was turned into a mosque hundreds of years ago and is presently a beautiful museum. The size alone got me thinking of how these massive towers were built without our present cranes and futuristic building technology. Quite the feat if you ask me. Day was breaking as we decided to head back to the Orient for another kebab and a nap before attending the pub-crawl that our hostel was hosting. Our enthusiastic receptionist, Mehmet Shark, was the leader of this event and was quick to earn nickname, The Legend. He really was a legend with his everlasting energy and happiness, marching around the hostel making sure everyone was participating and ready for a night of fun. The pub-crawl explored the nightlife in Taksim and proved to be one of the most fun nights of the trip. 

The Green Line: The Dead Sea + Jerusalem

Once again, we awoke to a spectacular brunch with Anne and Daniel and got the day going from there. After a fun night in Tel Aviv, Chase and I needed a day to relax and soak up the sun. The beach was nearby the Cohen’s house so we were able to walk to the dunes in under 10 minutes. Before we walked out the door, Anne equipped us with all of the essentials for some fun in the sun. This includes: two paddle ball rackets, towels, large waters, and two chilled coronas. We were in heaven.  By design, our entire day was filled with the beach and we could not have been happier with the rest and color we received. To make it better, we were able to rinse off in the pool once we got back to the Cohen’s. It was just what we needed because we had an early wake up the next morning for the tour of a lifetime.

Well rested from the night before and well fed from every meal since we arrived from Russia, we were ready to travel South of Caesarea in order to visit the Dead Sea and Jerusalem. Daniel informed us that we were to take his car and pick up Roe, our tour guide for the day. Although we were excited for the tour, Garrett was a little nervous, as he was designated to drive for the day. Driving in a foreign country is one thing, but when it’s a very nice car that doesn’t belong to you it’s a whole other story. Thankful for Daniel’s trust and the tour he arranged, we took to the highway and headed south to the Dead Sea.  After a quick introduction and some small talk, Roe began the tour and informed us of everything he could along the way. As we drove through the green line, Roe pointed out the difference between the cities on either side of the road. To a tourist, it may just look like foreign neighborhoods on both sides, but with Roe’s expertise we could see the difference between the Palestinian villages and towns on our left and the Jewish synagogues and buildings on our right.  It was fascinating to see this divide up close in person.

Arter an hour of driving, we began our descent to the Dead Sea. Nearly 420 meters below the sea level, we had reached the lowest place on earth.  At the Northern tip of the Dead Sea, we noticed that the temperature increased significantly. The only reasonable thing to do after this was to go to the lowest bar in the world.  We grabbed a drink and headed into the water to see how salty it really was. We made our way out slowly because of how loose the mud was and found ourselves sitting in water that came up to our shoulders. We leaned back, and sure enough, both our bodies floated to the surface instantly. We could not believe how buoyant we were, even after eating all of the delicious food the Cohen’s had prepared us. Our wounds from shaving our thick beards began to sting because of the salt. We both also recommend not getting the water in your mouth. It’s way too salty. After rinsing our tongues for about 10 minutes, Chase and I grabbed a few handfuls of mud and did what every tourist does; put a smiley face and a big D for the Dead Sea on our chests. When in Rome.

The Dead Sea was extremely refreshing, but Chase and I knew that we couldn’t spend the entire day there if we wanted an in depth tour of Jerusalem. Roe directed us West from the Dead Sea and got us to Jerusalem safely in an hour or so. Once we parked the car, our tour began with the Jaffa gate. The Jaffa gate was the original gate to the city and designed with a sharp turn at the entrance to fend off attackers on horseback. After seeing how sharp the turn was and hearing Roe’s story of a biker smashing into the wall, it made perfect sense.  From the gate we moved into the Christian quarters of Jerusalem. The Holy Sepulchre was our next stop. Moving from the 10^th to the 14^th stations of the cross, we found ourselves engulfed by the holiness of everything around us. Each section was filled with tourists, all moved by each station, some getting extremely emotional and flustered with the power each spot possessed. We are not pretending to be the most religious guys on earth, but the atmosphere in there really does make you feel like one with God. It was a spiritual moment that we will never forget.

After the Sepulchre, we moved into the Jewish quarters for another great experience. Unlike the lines and somewhat of a sideshow that is found in the Christian quarters, the Jewish quarters were more personal and intimate. After reaching the Western wall, we noticed that everyone was their to pray, not to take pictures and shove one another in line. The sheer size of the Western wall surprised us as well. It was massive.

The day was slowly slipping away and Roe wanted to take us to one last stop before heading back to Caesarea. To reach the amazing view atop of Mt. Olives, Roe led us to the entrance of a Palestinian neighborhood. The view was on the other side of the neighborhood so my plate was full with driving. Besides the fact that I was driving Daniel’s nice car, I was extremely anxious because there seemed to be no driving rules in this neighborhood. For instance, traffic was at a stand still on the right side of the two-lane street and the guy behind me decided to pull out and fly down the opposite side, playing chicken with whatever vehicle was coming his way. It was nerve-wracking to say the least.  However, the view was worth it and proved to be the perfect conclusion to one of the best days on the trip.

We arrived to the Cohen’s and could not have been happier. To make our stay even better, Anne and Daniel took us out for our last meal at a very nice seafood restaurant in the port. The Sea Bass and White Snapper filets were delicious. The only thing that could have made our last night in Israel better was a victory for the Women’s World Cup Team.

Israel As It Gets

Making it out of Russia in one piece was a huge success. A dripping ceiling fountain and large marble stones were unexpected as we stepped off the plane in the Tel Aviv airport. It was a great point in our trip because we were invited to stay with Daniel and Anne Cohen, longtime friends of Bernard. After a lot of training and flights, we knew this would be a great stop to relax and soak in the Israeli culture. We made it through security and down to baggage claim to meet  Iziq,  the driver that Daniel ordered for us. Iziq safely transported us an hour north of Tel Aviv to the Cohen’s house in Caesarea. We felt bad arriving there extremely early, but Daniel warmly welcomed us with a sincere handshake as we were guided straight to our bedrooms. A comfortable bed accompanied us with complete darkness and a late 2PM wake up. Thankfully Daniel woke us up for a special meal. Anne prepared an unbelievable brunch out on the back porch. Cucumber and tomato salad, pita bread, potato salad, watermelon, and a refreshing glass of orange juice hit the spot. After losing several pounds from our previous stops, it was nice to load up on calories and refill our waistbands. After brunch, Daniel showed us around the neighborhood and familiarized us with what he called, “paradise". Paradise was a complete understatement as we passed by a two thousand year old aqueduct, the old port, and a dune layered beach.

Once we felt comfortable with the area, we walked minutes from the house to the beach. As we walked up the mountain of sand we were gratified with the miraculous Mediterranean Sea. After establishing our bronzing station, a wheelie bound ATV and many other off-roading machines buzzed by us. The beach was therapeutic. Fishermen stood atop rocks close to shore in hopes of catching dinner and families gathered nearby for barbeques. It was nice to relax and enjoy the sea but we had to get back for dinner with Daniel’s parents.

We were back at the house and happy to meet Daniel’s parents on the back porch for a cocktail before a traditional Jewish dinner. It was Friday night and it was a celebration night of Shabbat for the Jewish day of rest. Daniel led with a nice prayer and passed the Sabbath drink around the table, followed by a piece of Challah bread. Next, we passed around many delicious dishes including breaded chicken, lamb, roasted peppers, couscous, salad, and were able to wet the pallet with a tasty red wine.  Watermelon and cherries supplemented the desert portion and we were entirely satisfied with one spectacular dinner. 

After dinner we spoke with Ted, the Cohen’s son, who informed us to go to Mike’s Place in Tel Aviv for a good scene. Daniel informed us that there was a suicide bombing there years before so we had a lot of different emotions going into the night. Daniel mentioned this jokingly though, as Mike's place is currently one of the most welcoming places to Americans in Tel Aviv. Iziq picked us up after we finished dinner and brought us down to the city. We arrived in a long traffic jam along the coast, but were luckily able to walk a short distance to the pub. Mikes place was the place; with a live band and a crowd of friendly English speaking partygoers. Beers were consumed and a sneeze of whiskey from Garrett’s nostrils drilled a girl sitting at the bar across from us. It was accidental and the girls understood the situation. Once the pair left, we replaced their chairs and started to chat with a couple of cute girls from Israel and Australia. It was an instant eye opener as we heard that the Israeli girl had six more months in the army. The other girl was from Sydney and offered to show us around when we get there. We ordered some French fries for a late night snack and were quickly joined by an interrupting hand from our intoxicated and obnoxious bartender. Morning was breaking fast as we were out the door in search of a taxi for the Cohen’s house. 

Russian Around

A good nights rest was just what we needed for an active day in St. Petersburg. After a quick Russian breakfast (macaroni and hot dogs?) at the hotel, we grabbed our map and started walking. Directly across from our hotel was the Kazan Cathedral. Although the outside was not so appealing, the inside of the church was beautiful and decorated with perfection. Michael Garden (Mikhaylovskiy Sad) was our next stop.  The garden was massive and well manicured as expected. It was a delight to see but we had greater interest in seeing the church that was located at the end of the garden. The Church of the Savior on Spilled blood, now referred to as Saint Isaac’s Cathedral, is one of the main attractions in St. Petersburg; and after seeing it up close we understood why. The colors and designs of the numerous domes and pillars were magnificent to see. Like everything else in the world, it was under construction so we could not go in, but we were able to get great shots outside the church and barter with some tough Russian street vendors.

After church, we headed towards the water to see the Winter Palace.  Home to the Russian Monarchs between 1700 and 1900, the palace was fit for royalty. A turquoise/mint colored paint covered the entire outside walls except for the white pillars and the golden pieces on every window. It was located in between the embankment and the Palace Square, close to the Alexander column.  Constructed after Russia’s victory in the war against Napoleon, the column is honor of Alexander the first.  To get a better look from the water, Chase and I walked across the bridge adjacent to the palace and started snapping. This is about the time we started noticing all the weddings going on. No joke, we must have seen about 15 different brides getting in and out of cars in about 15 minutes. We think that people decided to get married that day because of how nice the weather was.  The couples didn’t know when the next sunny day in Russia would be so they took the plunge. Along with many brides, the bridge also gave us a great view of the Peter and Paul Cathedral. The building was completely gold and shined in the sun unlike any building we had ever seen.

The sites were great, but we still felt a little uncomfortable around some of the Russian locals. For this reason, we went to dinner at the English pub across the street.  English menus and American music really put us in the right mindset to eat some Caesar salad and beef stroganoff. We washed our meals down with some local beer and were ready for the night. Being that we were in Russia, we figured that the next logical step was to buy a small bottle of Vodka. It seemed even more logical after the purchase because it was cheaper than water; seriously. On that note, the water in Russia is in a class of its own. People say don’t drink the water in Mexico, but I would funnel any amount of Mexican water over taking a sip of the tap water in St. Petersburg. If the sink was left running or the toilet seat wasn’t closed, the room would stink up and make us somewhat nauseous. Chase actually took a sip because he was dying of thirst and said it tasted like metal. However, it did help us become a little more domesticated, and now we always turn off the water and close the toilet seat.

We had some sips of the Vodka and hit up Svetlana for some recommendations on the nightlife. She only suggested one spot so we were kind of stuck with that. She had never been there so she actually asked us to tell her how it was when we got back. The name was in Russian so no clue what it was called but we navigated ourselves there and got in without a problem. The establishment was pretty empty so Chase and I posted up near the bar for a few drinks. Then out of nowhere, two Russian girls came out of the back room and got up on the platforms beside us to dance. The second they got up there the tops came off and the music started going. We were surprised to say the least. After that the atmosphere in the bar changed. We consulted the bouncer to see what the deal was and he informed us that every girl in there was a prostitute. Literally every girl. No interest in diseases and a new undertanding for why all of the ladies were giving us sexy looks was enough to get us back to the hotel. We told Svetlana that is wasn’t the family atmosphere we were looking for and went to bed.  Our flight to Israel was late the next day so we were able to get up late and still get to the airport early. TGI Fridays and American music held us over until our flight to Israel.

To Russia With Love

We arrived to the Helsinki port and were unpleasantly welcomed by pouring rain as we trucked through the streets a good ten minutes to the train station. We had plenty of time to kill so we decided to sit down at the Aseman Wursti, a highly overrated hotdog joint. An hour of hanging out passed and we were distastefully introduced to the lamest of lame ladies on the planet. “Usually at restaurants you buy something. Have you ever heard of it?” With few words in exchange, we moved to the outdoor train departure area where we sat for another hour deliriously recording videos of God knows what to pass time. We were not satisfied with the way the lady treated us so we relocated back to the wiener café and established dominance as we bought the cheapest option on the menu. As we entered, we shouted, "We would like to buy a small Pepsi, Have you heard of this?" Other cafe patrons laughed so we  to post up there for another couple of hours slowly drinking the Pepsi, drip by drip. Our train had finally arrived so we hopped aboard and made ourselves comfortable for the upcoming six-hour ride to St. Petersburg.

After going a little crazy in the train station, we met some girls on the train that graduated from the University of Virginia and exchanged travel stories until we were finally in St. Petersburg. As we stepped off of the train, we were immediately struck with a feeling of intimidation. After receiving a variety of dirty looks from everyone around us, including the guards, we were in the train station searching for an information counter to figure out where our hotel was located. The lady sitting behind the information desk did not speak a lick of English, so we moved on to the next potential source of assistance. After several attempts with other Russians in the station, a guard finally assisted us out of the station and to a map where he would lead us on our pursuit. With extreme gusts of wind blowing us all over the place, we cautiously walked over a  bridge under construction, weaving side-to-side to avoid workers on the sandy walkway. After many complicated attempts to figure out our whereabouts (most strangers were not able to communicate with us), another guard pointed us in a direction down the main road. Thanks to Sheree, our great family friend, we broke out the Lingo translator device for one of the words the man muttered and we were able to understand that we needed to take a right turn. Following the right turn we came across another problem and no maps were to be found. Tension was building even more as strangers continued to stare at us and light began to fall. We waved down a cab and roller coasted to our hotel that we would have never found by foot.

We entered through a large steel gate entrance followed by a courtyard to reach the Sky Hotel. It was extremely run down as we entered the first floor which put off a grimy musty smell. We reached the sixth floor and were pleasantly greeted by a beautiful receptionist name Svetlana. Her English was great to hear and we were in our much nicer hotel room han expected. We were exhausted from all of the effort spent traveling and walking aimlessly in the streets of St. Petersburg so we decided to call it an early night and got some great rest. 

(Hel)Sinking Ships

The next day went by relatively fast, most of it being spent in the Stockholm port waiting for our ferry to set sail. We checked into the ferry around mid-day and wandered aimlessly the large boat until we shoved off at 5. We knew it would be a good time because the ferry was an over night trip to Helsinki, Finland and equipped with a Casino and nightclub.

The tension built, as it got closer to 5. These people were ready to leave and excited to  see the open sea. Once the horn sounded, people started celebrating like it was some sort of holiday. Dancers dressed as Alaadin characters filled the main hallway of the boat and performed for the hundreds of travelers and their families. It was pretty ridiculous. Little kids were going ape shit watching this happen. It was Christmas, Easter, and Halloween rolled into one aquatic holiday.

After people regained consciousness from the excitement and the boat calmed, Chase and I went to the tax-free section of the boat for some drinks. The sun was setting and we wanted nothing more than to enjoy some fresh beers and a beautiful sunset on the balcony. We passed numerous islands and captured some great photos of our exit into the open water.

After we watched the sunset, we knew it was time for the casino. We weren’t planning on taking down the dealers or anything but we had both played a little blackjack before and were confident that we could make some money.  After a slow start, we noticed our dealer was cooling down and exploited her visible weakness. We made a total of $60 before we decided to step off the table. A new dealer was changing in and we knew it was our time.  Instead of watching, we grabbed a few more beers and waited for our dealer to get back on the table. Long story short, the dealer came back, we followed and then lost all of our money. However, it was still a success because our drinks were purchased off of our winnings.

The New York Lounge was the next and final stop on the boat. We listened to kareokee for about an hour and made small talk with our new friend Charles in the process. Once the kareokee machine turned off, the lounge started playing some serious music so we remained by the dance floor for the rest of the night. We did not stay up to late because of our early arrival in Helsinki, but we sure did cut some rug.