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This is a work in progress. Don't read ;p
Wednesday July 16, 2003 5:00 pm- I board a Thai Air flight bound for Bangkok.
Bangkok is a 5 hour flight in the wrong direction, but the only available flight
to get me to my final destination- Istanbul. The flight is pretty entertaining,
I meet a nice Korean architect on his first trip to Pattaya. He looked
positively giddy. He had 3 friends going with him and they all looked almost
rabid for the week ahead of them. I can only imagine what kind of experience he
had (staying at an expensive all inclusive resort in one of the world's most
renowned sex capitols...I'm sure he found plenty of entertainment) but this is
about my trip not his.
Around 10 I get into Bangkok and have to kill off a 4 hour layover. On previous
visits to BKK the airport pretty much, oh, sucked. But I guess they finished at
least part of their new terminal and upgrades because it was a pretty decent
experience. It started out a little auspicious, the transit check-in area was
crowded, had few amenities and was overall very boring. Luckily I took a stroll
and found the stairs to the main international terminal. Even better I finally
found where to buy net access cards for the wireless lan in the airport. I must
say that WLAN is very cool and every airport should have this service. It was
affordable and fast. Free would be better, but it was only a few dollars for an
hour so I didn't complain. I eventually found a quiet spot on the floor near the
Transit area with an open power outlet (my Toshiba sucks the batteries) and
started chatting a and typing a bit.
Thursday July 17, 2003 1 AM - 1 AM rolls around and I board my first Turkish
Airlines flight. The flight is around 10 hours long, but because I know how to
travel through time the plane arrives in Istanbul, not Constantinople, at 6:15
AM. It costs 100 bones to get into Turkey if you are a rich American...well it
costs the same if you are poor one too. So wherever I fit into that scale, I pay
my 100 greenbacks and go through immigration and head to baggage. An hour later,
yes a bloody hour, my bag pops onto the carousel and I step out into the wilds
of Ataturk International.
Have at least a basic plan if you ever visit Istanbul. I still wasn't sure what
I was going to do, or where I was going to do it. I wasn't scheduled to meet
Jayson until Saturday (flight availability and several changes of plans get me
there a few days early much to the irritation of my darling So Yon back in
Seoul...sorry babe) so I had time to kill. I had read a little...far too
little...about Turkey and didn't want to fork out the 30 bucks for a LP guide so
I just started asking questions to the few travel booths there. They were all
pretty crooked but I milked useful stuff out of em anyway.
I had it in my mind to go to Bulgaria, a few hours north, or go at Greece and
kill my extra day. I really wanted to take a boat to either one, but nobody knew
where to book a ride so that went out the window. I knew the big Otogar bus
station had hundreds of bus companies with destinations all over Europe and Asia
so decided to head there. Of course I'm a cheap SOB and busses from the airport
were reportedly (by the crooked travel guys) very expensive but cheaper than a
cab so the best bet. Ya right. The Havas busses are 7 million Lira (that's like
5 bucks) but even better looking to me was the Metro, a fairly new light rail
system. I check it out and lo and behold 1 million (80ish cents) gets me right
to Otogar. The Metro was nice. They have 2 lines here but the don't connect
which is a problem. May have something to do with the Bosporus splitting the
city, you think?
So I pop out of the subway into this mammoth bus station. Hundreds of bus
companies all begging for your business. At some point in the past day or so
Bulgaria became Romania too...so I start asking who goes there and of course am
on the opposite side of the complex. When I get to the right area I see Ozlem
bus line and the go to Romania and Bulgaria. For some reason the name sticks in
my head. I think I read about them on LP's thorny bush boards...but I had no
idea if I read that they were good or bad. I guess any press is good press,
cause I walked in and asked if they could get me to Romania.
After the blank stare one of the guys snaps awake and asks me where. For some
reason North isn't a good enough answer when booking travel so I get him to show
me a map. I wish I had snapped a picture cause there was so little left of this
map it was so old and worn as well as being in Turkish. I picked an area I had
read a bit about on the Black Sea and said "there." The dude said no problem the
bus leaves at 10 (it was now 9:15). At 10 I get shuffled into a little van and
we take off. I must say I had a moments worth of fear that I was going to
Romania in a overstuffed 15P. About 10 minutes into the trip we pull over and
everyone bails. I have no clue where we are or what I'm supposed to do, but the
driver signals for me to stay so I grab the front seat in the now empty van. We
roll off again and have a pleasant drive across Istanbul.
Finally we pull into a little bus depot god knows where and I see the Ozlem bus
to Constanta, my destination. Only problem is, that's not my bus. I get "better
bus, bus come soon". OK.... It's around 11 am now, and I'm hot, hungry and
wondering when I freaking leave. Answer: "oh, bus leaves at 3:00, have seat
please." I'm not killing 4 hours in a little room with no air, so I stash my
bags and start walking.
It seems I'm in the ass end of Istanbul. There is nothing fun to see where I'm
tooling about, unless you consider auto parts and raw textiles exciting that is.
 So I keep walking. About 20 minutes into my walk I spy some very familiar golden
arches. I'm hungry, need to use the head, and hot...Micky D's fills all those
needs. Let me say this before I get bashed for going to Mc Donald's, If you want
a semi-clean western style restroom when traveling, you go to a western
restaurant. I had already visited a Turkish WC and wasn't impressed, nor was I
impressed with paying for a dirty hole in the ground and cold water.
-Insert small rant here- When you pay for something that you can also get for
free, which one do you expect to be better? The one you pay for of course. Why
is it that as I travel WC's, restrooms, bathrooms, toilets...whatever it is you
want to call them, that the only consistently decent public restroom will be in
a western restaurant? Even worse, many public toilets are for pay. You give the
guy at the booth some cash there is an expectation of TP, a paper towel...hell a
wadded up newspaper at the very least. These pay toilets are consistently
nastier and smellier than the majority of free ones too. So why am I paying and
what am I paying for? It obviously isn't a mop, warm water, soap, paper towel
and TP. The squaties must be expensive to maintain. -End
small rant-
 Ok, on with the trip. I went to Mc D's, noticed that the local food choice is an
uninspiring chicken sandwich so I just got a drink and made use of their
facilities. By this time it is afternoon and getting damned hot and closer to my
bus time so I head back the long way. Passing a few random mosques and carpet
vendors, but otherwise not seeing much of interest.
Three o'clock rolls around and I start wondering where this new and better bus
is. Well, another 30 minutes roll by and a bus shows up and a sweaty Turk in a
wife-beater points at me and the bus. The new improved bus was older and smaller
than the big yellow new bus that was going to the same place, but such is the
luck of the roll.
I board and go to my seat, which has a nice plastic bag sitting in it. Touching
said bag produces a foul super strong garlic scent. It filled the whole bus in a
matter of seconds. I toss the bag into someone else's seat and make my self
comfy. By 4:30 we are about to roll out and the seat across from me and the
Bulgarian is empty so I hop in. Of course right as the bus starts up one last
late comer gets on and of course has the seat next to me. Oh, he also begins to
look for his bag that he put on the bus earlier....yup, the garlic bag of
goodness.
The trip starts out pretty nice. Nice highways and a decent speed, but things
change pretty fast in northern Turkey. About an hour in we unexpectedly turn off
the highway onto what, if there was town or city anywhere near, would be called
at best a street. The flat farmland is rapidly changing to broken hills and the
road is changing to more of a country road gravel patches and all. Not at all
what I expected from an international bus ride.
By this time I have made friends with my neighbor. His name is Florin Romeo
(with a last name I still have no chance of pronouncing). Florin is a Romanian
gypsy from Constanta, the town I am headed towards. Florin is a very interesting
character. He could obviously tell I didn't trust him but just stayed nice and
helpful. He makes the same trip at least monthly if not more to buy trinkets and
such to resell in "magazines" (small stands in tourist areas) along the Black
Sea coast. It seems that many "Romanian" souvenirs are actually Turkish or at
least purchased in Turkey and resold at a profit. Scary when you are talking a
$3 item making him a $2 profit and the tourists think they are getting a good
deal.
So
 Florin is talking to me in decent English. Decent enough I can understand him
better than many of my students...So of course I ask him where he learned it.
TV. He loves movies and old American TV. He has never had a lesson, could never
hope to afford lessons, yet is pretty good at the language. I think my students
should quit watching the damn sub-titles and listen, maybe they'd be as good as
the gypsy Florin.
Skip ahead an hour or so. We've been driving through some real mountains on some
real mountain roads for a while. A 2 bus caravan moving way too fast on way too
narrow roads, passing cars, wagons (horse drawn), and the occasional flock of
sheep will keep you entertained. It's about this time Florin and some of the
others are starting to look apprehensive, so I ask what's up. The Bulgarian
border is near and everyone that has "cargo" is wary of the customs officials.
Leaving Turkey was easy. After the immigration check we all walk through a
no-man's land a few hundred meters and wait for the group handler to make sure
all the passports come up even with all the people. When that is all settled we
are allowed to do Bulgarian immigration.
 They were somewhat shocked to see an
American passport, but not enough to do more than glance a second time. it was a
speedy process and I was thought we'd be on the road quick...I was wrong.
Customs comes out to the bus which has pulled in while we were in the rather
scary immigration building and goes over the manifest. A few people have the
things that they feel are worthy of graft, err I mean tariff. A good 20 minutes
of arguing and an eventual "white envelope" (well, it's not quite like Daewon,
they just pass the cash without the pretense) and it's time to board quickly
before they change their mind.
It is remarkable how much this part of the world looks like Oklahoma.
 The people
are much more poor, but the land itself is just like North-Central Oklahoma. There
was little to see in Bulgaria and I was tired so I finally passed out. There
were a couple of stops that I really don't remember. The Bulgarian guys got out
at some point that or they changed into loud drunk Russians. Either is possible.
The Russians were sailors and on their way home. One of them was very talkative
and very very proud of his US visa. I wasn't suitably impressed I guess because
he kept talking about it.
Another fun bit about the Russian: He was the only person to repeatedly tell me
to watch out for my belongings. I found that pretty amusing since of all the
people on the bus the one I trusted the least was the Russian. A tidbit for the
uninitiated...The Russians you tend to meet when traveling the world are not the
fine upstanding individuals you envision when thinking of the former Commies.
Most large cities, especially those with ports, have a Russian area. These are
not all that safe. They tend to be populated with mafia, hookers and other
undesirables. Russian discos may look fun but I'd suggest you take a pass lest
your cash blow away in the wind, your credit cards be maxxed, and you have only
a hazy memory and roofie hangover to show for it.
As I was saying the Russian's obvious distrust of Florin and Florin's obvious
dislike of the Russian helped me to trust Florin a bit more. Eventually he asked
me if I wanted to meet his family when we reached Constanta...that was a tough
decision and I put it off till much later. The rest of Bulgaria was uneventful
except for a dinner stop. It was a roadhouse type of place that caters to the
bus traffic. The meal of the day was some nasty looking fish. I just couldn't
make myself eat it, it looked that bad.
The Bulgarian-Romanian border was even more fun, at least for me. The American
passport was a big shocker to the guys at immigration. I'm guessing not many
American's take the 15 hour bus ride. I got my stamp and went back to the bus.
After a little yelling from random guys with large guns everyone grabbed all
their luggage and got in "line" in front of the customs house. The locals were
looking decidedly nervous which made me look forward to the process even more. I
was about 10th in line so was able to watch a few people before my turn. Every
bag was being opened, emptied and searched. I wasn't too thrilled with that
idea. The people on the bus already knew I was an American, knew I had a digital
camera (many were in far too much awe of it), and knew that I had some sort of
music player. What they didn't know is I also had a $2000 laptop in my pack and
I was not eager to let that secret out.
Well my turn came up so I toss the big pack on the table but keep the personal
pack on my shoulder. The rather stern looking agent with the rather large
looking sidearm said something not much unlike "DFRGRR, GEYUS THYR". My only
response was "Huh?". Oddly that must have been the password as he then said "Oh,
are you American?" I know the answer to this one: "Yup!" He waved me on and said
have a nice night. I guess I don't look like the smuggler type. I was very
relieved to keep my PC under wraps cause I wanted to sleep and that would have
been much riskier.
About 5:30 am (Friday the 18th now) the bus is rolling through some actual
civilization again, but is still 45 minutes from the actual city of Constanta,
when Florin says "come, my stop". Surprisingly the bus pulls over right then and
lets him out. I have all of 10 seconds or so to decide if I trust him or not. I
get a nod from the group handler and the really nice old guy behind me smiles
like it's ok so I go for it. I hop out and grab my pack from the undercarriage
and lend a hand to Florin since he has a large display rack to carry too.
His home is fairly close and he keeps talking about finding me a hotel (I had
already made sure he knew I was going to stay in one and not with his family.)
It's all of 6 AM now and he goes in and asks his Father about places for me to
stay. It seems that it is the busy season and rooms may be hard to come by. The
rather
 uninspiring hotel by his place was going to be his first choice but
luckily the keep can't be found. We hop in his car. It's a Dacia . Never heard
of it? Me either. It's a Romanian made car, mass produced, cheap, soviet
era....you get the idea. The new ones looked ok, but his wasn't new. But, any
car is better than no car.
So here I am, riding around in the too damn early AM, with Florin and his Dad.
They take me to all the hotel areas and the Dad hops out to check on rooms and
cost. Cost was a deciding factor to them when in truth even the expensive ones
sounded ok to me. They passed up two places that had rooms, one even named
Edmond, because the price was too high...yet always under 50 bucks. I knew
getting a room at 7 am was gonna be hard, it is kinda like getting a 2nd night
free in hotel logic, and several used that excuse. Finally we found a place that
had a shower and was affordable so I checked in. I've never seen a shower and
bed that looked so nice...a 10 hour flight then 15 hours on a bus after an
afternoon in the heat will make an outhouse with a garden hose look good.
Florin left after making plans to come by around noon or so after I had a shower
and nap. I was just hopping in the shower when I heard a timid knock at the
door. It was the not too bright girl from the front desk. She wasn't there to
show me Romanian hospitality but asked if I could come down to the desk. I sigh
and follow her down after donning some pants. At the desk I meet Max. Max is
Romanian but went to high school in Indiana so has a good command of the "finer"
aspects of English. He proceeds to tell me that he has a Russian tour group
coming in a couple of hours and that was one of their rooms (while bashing the
desk girl for being a moron). I don't really care since I'm in the room and have
already paid up. Luckily they know how to make me move. They have one apartment
open and I can have it for 10 bucks more. I check it out and decide I can handle
the extra $10 for AC, 2 extra rooms and a balcony. So once again I pack up and
move. I get my shower and pass out for an hour.
Even though I'm pretty damned tired, I can't sleep and really don't want to
waste my limited time sleeping it away so I go for a walk. I headed for the
beach. The Black Sea is pretty...pretty cold. I took a little dip but as I'm not
a big swimmer and it was pretty chilly I just went back to the walk. The beaches
alternated between fine gravel/shell and imported sand (I think it was imported
at least). They were nice and lightly populated. The nudity was a nice change of
pace too. ;p
I walk a few kliks (yes I said kliks most of the world is metric you heathens)
then headed into the town to catch a different view. It seems this little town
is mainly a sleeper community and hotels and not many businesses that aren't
tourist related. Florin verified this later when he told me he and the rest of
the town only works about 3 months out of the year. Hard to live on 3 months of
crappy tourist trinkets...
Friday is already half over but it will prove to be one long day. I spend most of
the day with Florin who is busy hopping all over the area checking his magazines
at the various hot spots. At the first I meet his wife who speaks no English and
we pick up his sister. His sister is back in Romania for 3 months. She bailed
the hard life and made a better one in Australia. Good for her. Her English was
a bit better than Florin's since she spent the past 5 years in Brisbane so she
spent part of the early afternoon with us.
I learn quite a bit about real life in Romania. Corruption is rampant (no
surprise), people enjoy their new freedoms but miss the stability of communism
(no surprise there either), they also miss the order of the state. By that I
mean that as a darker skinned person (a real good tan or a little olive is all
that takes) is singled out and called a gypsy. This is no matter what they
really are, how they live, are educated or anything else. It is very much like
the US in the early 50's. Discrimination is common in Romania but the oppressive
state treated everyone equally. Sucks to be oppressed, but if everyone else is
getting equal abuse it is easier to stomach.
The day and all the people I met and all I saw blurs together by 2 or 3 PM but
the important parts are easy to remember. The area is beautiful, the people
(especially the gypsies) are very friendly once you seem interested in them, and
the view near and on the beaches was amazing. While running all his
errands, Florin also helped me set up a flight back to Istanbul and find a way
to the airport in Bucharest. I had wanted to take a boat back to Turkey, but it
was basically impossible, why I didn't know, but would find out later.
At some point it is decided that we must go out and party that night. Saying no
to these people is very hard and can offend too, so I begged a couple of hours
for a nap and shower. Seems it was a good idea so Florin said he'd be back
later. Before leaving, <insert sister's name here> said "I'll give you my niece tonight." Umm, say
what?
Let me backtrack a moment and give you the Cliff's Notes version of what I
learned earlier in the day about gypsy women. (We'll call this "A")
1. They are fiercely loyal. Divorce, while it happens and they accept it, is
something that they will try to avoid at all costs.
2. While young women may flirt and look like they are quite "active", most are
virgins and intend to stay that way until marriage.
3. Many marriages are arranged or at least set up in some way. You may have a
say, but your family probably helped you get to the point of "I do" anyway.
4. Marriage happens early if it helps the family
Now, add in what I had learned and the statement "I'll give you my niece
tonight". (4A + B) Toss in a girlfriend (that they knew about and had even seen
pictures of...)/J, and multiply it all by American guy can marry poor gypsy's 18 year old
daughter and take her out of Romania (let's call that Z). That gives us
[(4A+B)/J]Z=O. Do the math and come up with your own value for O (oh hell is a
good start).
Florin shows up at 8pm or so and says we have to go to his house to get his
sister and nieces. Once there the father treats me like an honored guest
offering watermelon and coffee, something I know that they really can't afford
to do. The nieces show up and it seems I had met both of them earlier in the day
at different magazines and didn't remember it. <insert niece #1's name here> is 18 and quite beautiful.
She had dark skin and an infectious smile, it was obvious she knew she was
attractive too. Illana is 17 and had white skin and is cute but not like her
sister and it was just as obvious that she was used to being behind her sister
and was not as confident in her looks. Both were dressed very casual as she had
been earlier in the day while working but went into a frenzy when they found out
they were going clubbing (maybe more so because of my presence). The stark
contrast between the two sisters was amazing. One was very dark the other very
white, yet they were (supposedly) full sisters. Anyway, Illana had the most
pronounced change going from standard casual teen to, well whatever you'd like
to decide.
So after the standard wait for the women to get primped (same everywhere isn't
it) we finally pile in the Dacia and head off to the strip. Just like
everywhere, no one could decide where to go and as usual they ask the damn white
guy where he wants to go. So let's see...I've been in the town for a whoppin' 14
hours and I'm supposed to know where the good clubs are...makes sense to me.
Also as per usual we end up walking the whole strip before picking a place to
go.
The Casino was a discotheque like most. Loud repetitive music, over-priced
drinks, and irritating people. We spend several hours drinking bad wine while
listening to American dance music with an occasional Romanian inspired tune
thrown in. The highlight of the club had to be right after we got there.
Most of the tables were full except for this one large one in a prime location.
Of course it has a reserved sign on it so I toss the sign to the side and invite
everyone to sit. Well the club's main waiter freaked when he saw all these
gypsies at his reserved table and comes running over to shoo them away. I had
prepped them and told them to not move or say anything. So he gets there and is
obviously saying "Move" or something close. I pipe up and say why, which
stops him cold. He manages to mutter "Table reserved" to which I replied,
"yes it is! For me!" and told Florin to order the first round of over-priced
drinks. Low and behold, he left and brought our beverages. Sometimes
it's fun to challenge authority...nah, most of the time.
Finally I had enough of the crappy music and people trying to get me to dance
Romanian style (that means move your arms like you are boxing an 80 year old)
and I called it a night. It had been a damned long day so Florin takes the girls
home then insists we go out for one more drink. We end up at another gypsies
place where we could have bought half the town a beer for the same money that
the disco cost me. Sometime around 3 am I finally end up at my hotel where I
rack out till 9 or so the next morning.
The
Romanian Photo Gallery
Saturday July 19th road trip/flight to Ist
Sunday July 20th Met Family, met Mr T
Monday July 21 Ist. most closed, met the dentist?
Tuesday July 22nd Blue Mosque, Hagie Sophia, Cistern
Wednesday July 23 Ankara
Thursday July 24 Cappadocia
Friday July 25 Return to Ist, Tulay's family at CClub
Saturday July 26 Topkapi Palace and Club on Bosphorus for Semarah's...??'s
birthday
Sunday July 27 Day of rest and return korea
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