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.

Stockholm: Night Two

After an entertaining curve ball of a night, we were back on our feet, well rested and ready to explore Stockholm. We had a quick breakfast of corn flakes and were off to roam and sightsee. Our destinations were planned and we began walking towards the water where we ran into a walkway along the water that directed us right to The City Hall. The massive building was situated on the corner of the river, filled with colorful gardens, and blessed with an outstanding view of the city. We entered inside the courtyard only to find a horse statue that caused a group of Asians some serious troubles. One of them attempted to hop on the horse as the lifeless animal magically bucked her off. Friends gathered around and pushed beneath her for a good several minutes before the happy, drenched in sweat equestrian was able to pose for a picture. We left through the main gate in the front of the Hall and pressed on over a bridge to the next attraction. Across the channel from The City Hall was Riddarholm church,  one of the oldest buildings in the city that dates back to the 13th century. It was a true honor to stand inside this structure but we had one more major site to see.  

Across from this church we found the Royal Palace of Sweden. Apparently it is almost impossible to get someone else to take a decent picture of you when, even when your trying to capture and important lank mark. Luckily, we finally got a family from Maine to give us what we needed and we were back on course. As we circled the palace and passed some royal street performers, we noticed one in particular that was surrounded by a large crowd of people and setting up for his next show. We decided to stay and watch a man whose costume consisted of two people having dinner on his back. This was a particularly amusing site to see, especially when he bent down to pick up his materials. The show was quite intriguing as the man juggled wands of fire and sharp large pirate swords. It was a great ending to our Royal Palace visit as we left the highly populated scene. On our walk back we passed through St. Clara church and other cathedrals on the way back to City Hostel.

We arrived back to our eight-person room (all to ourselves) and sat down to watch the movie Inception. After the movie, we noticed we were running a bit behind schedule for our reservation at the Ice Bar. Our receptionist told us that they would not accept any guests that were more than ten minutes late so we were quick on our feet and in the kitchen. Unfortunately, the hostel did not have any stovetops for boiling water and cooking our pasta so it was up to the microwave to fulfill our appetite. We were able to cook the pasta in the microwave but it took much longer than expected. With only twenty minutes until our reservation and a ten-minute walk, our pasta and sauce were ready. We have never scarfed down food as fast as we did that night. Kobayashi and Chestnut would have had some serious competition. Thankfully, we did not have any hostel member’s pass by our ferocious vulture like feeding as we were out the door in search of the ice. We arrived to the Ice Hotel and proceeded to the bar entrance to receive our Eskimo jackets and high-end gloves before entering the 20 degree farenheit environment. The bar was ice, the benches were ice, and even the glasses that we drank our fruity drinks from were made of ice. We walked through a train of people that were singing and kicking their feet side to side to the music. The Ice Bar was surely the coolest one we had experienced thus far. Pun intended once again. Once we left, a heat wave simmered our faces and provided a rude awakening to our body temperatures before being back on the streets.

As we walked toward a spot for nightlife, we abruptly changed plans as we remembered it was Sunday night. We journeyed back to the City Hostel and caught our last glimpse of the beautiful sunset that Stockholm graciously provided us. 

Training Up To Sweden

With no sleep and a full day of traveling ahead of us, Chase and I slugged some water and got our game faces on. Unfortunately, our journey to Sweden involved several transfers in the Netherlands and Germany before we could relax and sleep. We changed rails in Hilversum, Osnabruck, and Hamburg before boarding our final train to Stockholm. From Hamburg, we took the train right onto a ferry, which  allowed to reach Copenhagen and continue on to Sweden in one straight shot. It was an exhausting fifteen hours to say the least.

We arrived in Stockholm Central station around midnight and decided to sleep in the train station until we could check into our hostel. However, after two hours of rest on the most uncomfortable and oddly shaped benches, a security guard informed us that the station was closing. We now had seven hours to kill and nowhere to kill it. Once we exited the station, a bright McDonald’s sign caught our eye and essentially called us over to it. No joke, this was the best McDonald’s ever. Great food and fast service put us in a great mood to enjoy free wireless internet and clean, comfortable booths. Now it may sound like this McDonald’s isn’t all its cracked up to be, but it gets better. Along with being open 24 hours, this McDonald’s attracted every group of girls in Stockholm on their way to and from the bars and clubs. Answer this question. When was the last time you sat in a McDonald’s for 7 hours eating Big Mac’s and youtubing hockey fights, all the while being surrounded by dozens of beautiful, blonde Swedes? Let’s just say we had a very happy meal. Pun intended. If you ever find yourself in Stockholm with time to kill, McDonald's is the place for homicide.

Unfortunately, nine o’clock rolled around and we had no more excuses to hang out in McDonald’s. We walked to City Hostel, a hostel close to the train station and located in the heart of Stockholm, and immediately passed out after checking in.  An entire day of traveling and a busy night at Micky D’s really wore us out. We slept until the early evening and hit up the grocery store across the street for essentials once we were settled. Everything is ridiculously expensive in Sweden and we knew that we would have to be conscious of our budget for our entire stay. Our grocery list included: bread, sliced ham, smoked Gouda, corn flakes, milk, pasta with sauce, peanut butter, and two apples. One Big Mac at McDonald’s cost more than half of groceries, which turned out to be enough for around 10 meals. It was eye opening.

 

Once our bellies were full, we finished off the bottle of Chardonnay that Christine gave us and hit the streets around midnight. A hostel mate named Adam tagged along, but, later proved to be of less value than our first friend  named Adam (he accompanied us for the first ten days).  This Adam seemed to be wasted after his first beer and somewhat of a liability. Most places were an hour wait, and the ones with no wait had an age limit that excluded him. He was definitely holding us back.  Two O’clock rolled around and we were next in line to get into club “Oh Oh Oh”. Adam was a little drunk and angry about waiting in the line so he decided to go home. We did not try to change his mind. Next in line, Chase and I got ready to give the bouncer our id’s and cover fee when all hell broke loose. The bouncer began arguing with a large English man right next to us, which halted the entry process. The man was angry that he could not get in without waiting in line, while other locals and friends of the bouncers got in instantly. More words were exchanged and the two men began swinging at each other. We couldn’t have been any closer than that to the fight without being involved in it. The bouncer asserted his dominance and was eventually pulled away by friends and co-workers once the police arrived.  We were excited to have some story to tell people in the bar, but there was one problem. Because of the fight, the police said that no more people were allowed to get in.  O well.

We thought about calling it a night until we passed an outdoor bar at the bottom of a nearby hotel. No cover. No age limit. We were in business. After a few drinks with a group of Swedish girls, we made it to the dance floor before closing and enjoyed the rest of the evening. 

Amsterdamage Control

After calling it an early night at the White Tulip Hostel, we checked out the next morning and walked down the street to the pleasing smell of waffles. We were waiting for family friend, Christine Turner, as she caught up on rest from her long flight  from the States. Stationed in the back of the restaurant was a hostel lobby area where we would catch up on our blog, use free Internet, and watch enough MTV Jams to hold us over until returning to Garrett’s basement in Annapolis. It was getting later in the day and we were eager to meet with Christine so we left the free scent of waffles and moved onward to the Crowne Plaza Hotel.

We arrived at the hotel and were instantly greeted by Christine, as she was just walking out of the lobby to come looking for us. After a warm welcome of hugs were exchanged, we made it up to her lovely room where rum and cokes and plenty of snacks silenced our hunger. Endless amounts of cheese and crackers, fresh fruit, and mixed nuts never tasted so great. An toast was made and Christine continued to present essentials to us from our families back home as we exchanged a few gifts for her. A bottle of chardonnay was another exceptional present we received from Christine, working out perfectly for our long train ride to Stockholm. After we traded our goodies, we shared some stories of our adventures and Christine shared one with us. Hours before her flight was projected to land, a man in the back seat of her plane had a seizure. After the plane searched for a medic or anyone capable of helping the man, an undercover security Marshall took charge to manage the situation. The convulsing man had been treated with the necessary fluids and was instantly back on his feet in good standing. Surprisingly, as they reached the gate, the man was able to walk off the plane unattended and journey his way into Amsterdam medic free. We hope this man is ok. 

Regardless, other funny stories from the 4^th of July were swapped and our hunger was satisfied. We then began to plan our night and dinner reservations. Christine kindly relayed several dinner options to us but we could not decide on one in particular because they all sounded delicious and any food was perfectly fine at that point. We left the hotel and knew that walking around the streets would surely bring us to a nice restaurant that Christine had recommended. We made a reservation at an Italian restaurant called Casa di David as we continued onward to a nearby bar where we were again treated with a tasty beer. After joyfully watching the Amsterdam city traffic of enraged bicyclists and car drivers, we headed for dinner.

We were seated at a nice window table that looked over one of the many beautiful canals. Our Italian waiter anxiously approached us and firmly inquired for our drinks as we ordered a couple of beers and a glass of wine. We looked over the unique scroll of a menu and consulted one another over the variety of great options the restaurant had to offer. Our waiter returned for our order but quickly left, as we were hesitant to make a choice. We quickly developed a meal plan and were on our toes and ready to present our order. Moments later, we received a salad, bacon and parmesan pasta dish, and a large ham pizza sided with a bottle of red wine. Lastly, we enjoyed a tasty desert of Tiramisu. Thank you Christine!

After this great meal, we took back to the streets and captured several pictures before heading back towards the Crowne Plaza Hotel. On the way, we ran into two of Christine’s friendly flight attendants that were on her flight and we felt it necessary to grab another beer at an Irish Pub next to the hotel. After sharing stories and explaining our trips mission of spreading democracy, we received a call from Garrett’s friends that were in town. We promised the ladies to bring our friends back before we went out for the evening so we met with Matt, Tyler, and Ari at the Flying Pig Hostel and returned back for a quick hello. Following our cocktail at the Pub, we left with Garrett’s buddies from Dartmouth and headed out on the streets for the Red Light District to see all that Amsterdam had to offer. Our first stop was at a nearby bar called Black Tiger where we toasted drinks “for the boys” and got completely rejected by the attractive bartender to get in one of our pictures. “What will I get from taking a picture with you guys?” she sighed. Her time was up and we were back on the streets in full force. After making a pass through the Red Light District, we decided to hop in a cab and transport to another bar called Paradisio. This small box of a bar was pretty overhyped as we found ourselves with another cheers with the boys before heading back to the Flying Pig Hostel for another round of drinks and a farewell goodbye to the Dartmouth crew. We may or may not have poked our heads into a sex show at some point in the night.

We arrived back at Christine’s Hotel early in the morning without having the chance to lie down on the comfortable beds and said our thanks and goodbyes. Christine’s hospitality and generosity was unbelievably helpful to our trip. Seeing our family friend, receiving dinner and drinks, and chatting about current happenings back home in Annapolis was greatly appreciated. This was the perfect supplement for us prior to leaving for our train to Stockholm.  

Pra hahaha ha

After an epic night at the beer factory and a healthy breakfast at Starbucks (we could afford to eat at the one in Prague), we found ourselves near Old Town Square for the very first tour of the day. A friend of Zach's told us that groups of college students run free day tours around the city and highly recommended that we check it out so we jumped on the opportunity, even if it was a 5 hour commitment. Once 11 o'clock rolled around, the tour guides began dividing the large crowd of tourists into groups of 30. Luckily for us, this meant we would have a more intimate tour with our guide, Karel (pronounced Carol). It took us about 30 seconds to realize that Karel was a champion. Definitely the best guide in the game. His energy was off the charts and his knowledge of the city bested any guidebook we could find. 

By design, our first stop was the Prague Astronomical Clock because of how close our starting point was to Old Town Square. At a glance, the clock looks like an enormous, stone tower with too many confusing dials to comprehend. But thanks to Karel, we learned how to make sense of all of the various parts. For starters, the mechanical clock and astronomical dial were constructed in 1410 by clockmaker Mikulas of Kadari and an astronomer from Charles University by the name of Jan Sindel. Pretty impressive. The three main components of the clock mechanism include: the astronomical dial, which represents the location of the Sun and the Moon; "The Walk of Apostles", a clockwork hourly show of figures of the apostles; and the calendar dial, representing the months.  We were also lucky enough to see the trumpet player that performs at the top of each hour. He was ok.

After teaching us all he could about the clock, Karel led us all over the Old Town and New Town of Prague, stopping at other notable sights along the way to give his two korunas on the matter.  Whether it was discussing the Tyn Church, the main church of Prague since the 1400’s, or the National Museum on Wenceslas Square in New Town, Karel quenched our thirst for knowledge. Other memorable stops included the Powder Tower, original entrance to the city of Prague, and the world’s only cubist café.

Moving away from the Old and New Town attractions, Karel decided to take us through Josefov, the Jewish quarters of the city, which was also remarkably beautiful.  Karel explained that Josefov is home to some of the oldest synagogues in Europe, the oldest being the the Old Synagogue of 1270. We found this hard to believe because of Prague’s Nazi occupation during WWII. However, Karel informed us that during the war, Hitler decided to compile Jewish artifacts from all over Central Europe and place them in a Josefov synagogue. Unfortunately, his goal was to create a museum for what he believed would be an extinct race after the war. Obviously this is a terrible reason for compiling such artifacts, but the collection turned out to be more positive than its original purpose. It is now seen as a badge of honor for the Jewish population in Prague and Central Europe for that matter. 

Next came Charles University and the Opera house.  While the opera house bored us, Charles University picked up where Josefov left off.  Founded in 1348, Charles University was the first university in Central Europe and is the largest and oldest university in Prague to this day.  The university was inspired by Charles of Luxembourg and is conveniently located near the Charles Bridge on the Vltava River. Once again, Karel dazzled us with his knowledge for Czech history. But our tour was approaching the end and Karel was about leave us right next to the Charles Bridge with so many questions left unanswered.  Karel first explained that tour would not include the bridge or the Prague Castle (2 of the oldest and biggest attractions in Prague), and then informed us that he would be accepting tips after his final story. Suddenly this free day tour wasn’t so free. Anyway, he began commenting on the Czech uprising during WWII and relayed extremely fascinating information to us. According to Karel, the Czech uprising after Hitler’s death came in the form of confusion and force.  To confuse the Germans, groups of nationalists organized the removal of street signs in the city. This disoriented the officers that were occupying the city and allowed the resistance to move around them with ease. The forceful part of the uprising occurred when a group of 30,000 Czechs took over the main radio tower in Prague, despite the 80,000 German soldiers that attempted to stop them. The Czechs were able to get in contact with the U.S, who informed them that Russian soldiers were on the way to help. Once the Germans caught wind of this, Prague was completely deserted by Nazi’s. Side Note: The U.S would have come to Prague’s aid sooner but the demarcation line of the Czech Republic fell just west of the city, meaning that Russia was responsible for Prague.

The tour was finally over and despite having to pay on a free tour, it was one of the most informative and fun days of the trip. Karel pointed us in the direction of the Prague Castle (largest in Europe) and said his goodbyes. We no longer had his guidance, but decided to push through to the castle and bridge before calling it a day. After walking up several hundred steps to castle’s cathedral, we realized that having no guide did not matter. The site of the cathedral was amazing the view overlooking Prague was breathtaking. We didn’t need words to describe it. We returned to our hostel via Charles Bridge content and ready for a siesta.

Our train for Amsterdam was early the next morning so we knew that it would be our last night to see the Prague nightlife and experience some authentic Czech food. For this reason, we decided hit a bratwurst sidecar for dinner on the way back to Beer Factory for the night. Amsterdam here we come.

Czeching In: 4th of July in Prague

Awaking at the butt crack of dawn was very rewarding, as we understood that we would be off to a place that so many friends have raved about. After an hour into our train we were unexpectedly stopped due to our car coming close to flailing off the tracks. Someone that sat a few seats back from us noticed that the wheels began to smoke and pieces of metal were flying out from under the train. As we hurriedly moved forward to the next car, two American voices behind us asked if they could join us in the six-person suite we had just entered. It was the 4^th of July and we knew that the bigger crew of Red, White, and Blue the better. We met Micah and Zach from Los Angeles and were quickly sharing travel stories and asking where we could find a place to stay for 2 nights. Luckily, they had rented a 4-bed room hostel that they had only ended up needing for themselves. With little negotiation, they agreed to let us fill the other two beds at the Pension Corto Hostel and fulfill American pride throughout the streets of Prague. 


We made it to the Prague train station with our bags secure and asked the information desk where to head for our hostel. With little help and a grunting voice, the bearded man pointed off into the distance to what could have been leading us in either direction. We continued out of the station and walked in direction of our gut feeling. Fortunately, we ran into another crowd of Americans along with an Argentinian couple who Garrett made special conversation with about his country proud button down he had bought on a previous trip to their hometown of Buenos Aires. The group enjoyed our presence as we exchanged 4^th of July cheers and was helpful in guiding us to Old Town Square where we would find our hostel.

On the way, we stopped to get some change for our stay and were instantly rich. At least the 1,000 labeled bill made us think so. The US dollar to Czech exchange rate was approximately $1 to 17 korunas. Upon reaching the street where our hostel was located, we noticed a really long outdoor market, remarkably crowded and contained stands of fresh fruit, handcrafts, jewelry, etc. We received our keys and entered a long dark hallway that veered to a staircase, seemingly endless as we fought four steep flights of stairs. Our next couple nights would be spent in this relatively older building that was all we needed and had a great view of the daily street market and famous Astronomical Clock on Old Town Square. We dropped our bags off in the room and were ready to grab a bite to eat. The receptionist referred us to their restaurant that was 20% off and was located outside of the hostel on the sidewalk parallel to the market. Our experience of Czech’s finest Pilsner Urquell drought beers was in hand along with a delicious tomato mozzarella carpi starter and ham-topped pizza, instantly curing our hunger. With our stomachs content, we decided it was time for a brief siesta back at the hostel before we presented our American culture to the Czech Republic.

We woke up in the early evening and were destined to the Beer Factory. Thanks to all the messages from everyone on Garrett’s Facebook, you did not lead us in the wrong direction. We made it to the Beer Factory within 5 minutes from our hostel after passing several inviting Schnitzel stands. An enthusiastic man greeted us upon descending down the staircase into the long narrow cellar. Instead of taps filled with Guinness, like the pubs in Dublin, the tables at the Beer Factory dispensed premium Pilsner Urquell for all to enjoy. We sat down at a four-person table and poured our first pint while analyzing the scene around us.

Surprisingly, a D.C. United soccer game was on the big screen and our American tunes were playing. Located next to the game was a screen that relayed different numbers with tally marks underneath which brought up some curiosity. We ordered very American food, Buffalo wild wings and Baby back ribs, for dinner and were eventually informed about the second screen of the Factory by our waitress. The numbers on the screen represented the table you were sitting at and the tally marks pertained to the number of pints consumed by each table. Greatly satisfied by the portions and the quality of the food, the challenge had  now begun. We were table # 12 and we made the presence of American’s known with a bang as we held down first place for most of the night. After several hours passed, a few playful confrontations occurred between our outnumbered table and the fierce German competitors at table # 10 until we fell behind in the rankings.  Nevertheless, we continued to dominate the Beer Factory, this time on the dance floor. Our performance of Nationalism was noteworthy and well respected by the dozens of smiling faces that surrounded our table. The 4^th of July could not have been any better outside of the United States. We came, we saw, and most importantly, we spread democracy!