Escapades in the Biblelands – Jerusalem and the Dead sea

On my second night in Jerusalem I had arranged to stay the night with a couchsurfer. He picked me up around 7 and we went back to his place. He was a great host and an interesting person to talk to. Some of his friends stopped by and visited as well, they were also really lovely people and we had a really fun night. After they left, he gave me a lot of help to plan my next day in Jerusalem – I was very short on time, so I needed to really make the most of every second. He gave me lots of tips and studied the map with me to help plot the best route.

Early in the morning I packed my bag and headed out on my adventure. I took the bus to the Old City, and then walked down the Via Dolorosa. The Via Dolorosa is the pathway that Jesus followed when he carried the cross to the hill. It was strange to walk the streets thinking that my beloved Jesus had been in this very city – and he was dead and resurrected by the end of his visit! I also walked by the Western wall, then exited the city gate and walked to the Mt of Olives and the garden of Gethsemane. These were places that Jesus had spent time teaching and praying before his arrest and crucifixion – in fact, he was arrested in the garden.

The garden of Gethsemane was beautiful. It was surrounded by a large wall. You walked inside and there in front of you – separated by a protective fence – was a beautiful garden of olive trees and flowers. Around the perimeter of the garden was a path that led to a church. The church was beautiful as well. It featured paintings and mosaics of Jesus' time in the garden. Mosaics of olive trees were decorated on the ceiling – it was spectacular. At the front of the church beside the alter was a large rock – apparently the one that Jesus had sat on. I am not sure how they worked out that it was that particular rock, but even for figurative value it was nice to have something tangible to touch and look at.

I really enjoyed being at the garden. I didn't want to leave! But time was pressing on, so I made my way to the Mt of Olives. I don't know how many pathways led up there, but for whatever reason, I ended up on a very steep one that had over 570 steps. It was the hottest part of the day, and I huffed and puffed my way to the top. When I reached the top I was a little disappointed because I could see nothing that resembled a “Mount of Olives” - all I could see were residential flats and a walled cemetary that had an entrance fee (and you know that I was NOT about to pay it!). I was not deflated though, and I got out the map and studied it very carefully. I saw that there was another road parallel to the one I had taken that seemed to be more 'scenic'. So I walked down that road, and was thrilled when I found a gate that led into a beautiful olive grove. It was one of the places where Jesus had spent time. It had a spectacular view of Jerusalem, and was a very quiet and peaceful place. The garden was empty apart from a talkative older man who claimed to be the garden's volunteer caretaker/security person. He told me that he worked hard to keep the garden tidy and litter free. He tried to talk me into giving him some money for his good service. As he talked, I watched him as he gathered up some rubbish and just tossed it over the wall into the empty plot next door, which was covered in litter. When I asked him why he was dumping the rubbish next door, and told him I had nothing to give him, he grew upset and stopped being friendly and talkative. I took no notice and continued looking around the garden, laughing to myself about the whole incident.

I headed back to Jerusalem – not the Old City, but rather the new city. I headed to the markets. They were jam packed full of people! What an incredible atmosphere! You could buy virtually any fruit, vegetable, bean or spice known to man – everything was fresh and smelled wonderful. I bought a delicious fruit salad from one of the stalls that consisted of fresh pomegranates, mangos, pineapple, grapes and dragonfruit (which I haven't had since being in Singapore/Malaysia!) and strolled around people watching.

Time was passing quickly, so I soon left and went to the central bus station. There, I caught a bus to Rishan LeTsiyon. Vered had asked me to come to Rishan LeTsiyon because her brother and his wife and children live there, and it happened to be her nephew's birthday. They were going to have a family get-together to celebrate, and I was invited! Vered picked me up at the bus station and we went to her brother's house just in time for dinner to be served! I met all of Vered's immediate family and we had a great night of celebration and food!

We drove back to Be'er Sheva that night and went straight to bed because we had a big day planned the next day – a trip to the Dead Sea!

Early in the morning we gathered up our things and packed lunch, then met up with one of Vered's friends who knew the area very well. We drove towards the Dead sea. Along the way, Vered's friend taught us a lot about the geography and history of the area. He drove us to remote locations inamongst the salt mountains off the main road. He took us down tiny roads carved straight into the salt. The roads were uneven and sloped in every direction, they twisted through the salt mountains at very tight angles. Then we came across a huge group of school children who were hiking through the salt mountains. The road was so narrow that it took a very long time to be able to pass the children. As we passed them, the children were begging us to take them with us so they didn't have to walk in the heat!

We finally passed the last group of children and then weaved through some very tight and difficult curves. I was very thankful that I was not driving – I still don't know how Vered's friend managed to navigate us through all of that and come out the other side in one piece! Shortly we found ourselves on the top of the salt mountains. Vered's friend explained that this was Mt Sodom – the location of Sodom and Gomorrah – the infamous cities that the Lord destroyed. The Bible says that the area had been well-watered and had vegetation, but as it was destroyed the Lord rained down burning sulphur on the cities and removed every living thing, as well as all the vegetation in the land. The only family the Lord spared was Lot's family – they were found to be honourable people and angels told them to flee. But Lot's wife looked back towards the cities, and the Bible says she was turned into a pillar of salt. Sitting there on top of that salt mountain, I looked as far as I could see, and – true to His word – even now it is still just an arid place of salt deposits. Nothing grows there.

Next, we visited some salt caves. We were technically not meant to go inside them, but when had that stopped me ever before? We squatted down and slowly creeped deeper into the cave. Soon it opened out into a large shaft of daylight. Water had slowly eroded the salt and formed a hole in the 'roof' of the cave. It was so beautiful! Near to the cave was a large pillar of salt that was standing separately from the mountain – it was the pillar of Lot's wife! It even looks like a woman.

By this time we had worked up an appetite. We drove to the coast of the Dead sea, found a picnic spot by the side of the road and laid out all the food. Vered had made some scrumptious healthy food for us, and Vered's friend whipped up a fresh salad right then and there for us! It was delicious.

It was late afternoon by the time we actually ended up at the beach. We parked easily and found a nice spot on the beach. There were quite a few people there, but it didn't feel crowded. We waded into the water. It was the perfect temperature! I was so curious to experience the effect of the salt content. At 400m below sea level, the Dead sea is the lowest point on earth, and the water has the highest salt content in the world. I knew that it made you float, but I was wondering to what extent – did you have to put in some effort too, or would the water really do it for you? At first I tried to sit down in the water, but immediately my legs flew up and bobbed on the surface of the water! It was unreal – you did not have to make any energy exertion at all – it really was like magic, one minute you were standing up, the next minute your legs would pop up in front of you and you would just bob there like a rubber duck in a bathtub. It was not very deep, so the best thing was just to lie on your back in the water and use your hands as paddles to move yourself around. I felt like one those sea otters who float around on their backs. There was even an umbrella in the water which provided some shade from the sun. The three of us made our way under the umbrella and just lay there in the water, relaxing and chatting about life. The water is thick and quite oily. It feels wonderful. Salt forms a thick layer on the floor of the sea, so you can find a nice spot and scoop up handfuls of salt to give your body a good exfoliating clean. From all my travelling – despite frequent showers – I felt so dirty, so I gave myself an intense scrubbing. My feet had been so filthy that it took two rounds of scrubbing to get them adequately clean. We took turns scrubbing each other's backs. It was wonderful to be clean again! And with the oil content in the water, you would come out with your skin feeling smooth and silky.

We left the water and sat down on beach chairs to let the salt dry on our skin. It was very restful. We people-watched all the other bathers. Every now and then you would see a child accidentally put their face in the water or rub their eyes with their salty hands, then we would watch the drama unfold as the child began to cry with the burn of the salt, and the parent would rush over and wash them off, scolding them for not listening to their instructions. It was quite amusing!

Over the course of the day, Vered had been complaining of a rash on her body, and after being in the salty water she was in a lot of pain. So we packed up and headed back the car. It had been an incredible day on the salt mountains and in the Dead Sea. I have to admit, if I had the chance, I would definitely visit the Dead sea again and stay there for a few days of pure relaxation.

The next day Vered was not feeling very well at all, so we went to see the doctor then just hung out at home talking and talking. Later on she had a rest and I packed. It was bittersweet for me – I was excited because my next stop was Uganda, but it also meant that it was the end of my 2 month backpacking trip. What an amazing journey I had been on.

The next morning Vered dropped me at the train station and I took the train to the airport. It was a long, slow process of intense security checks at the airport. I finally made it through and boarded the first of three flights to get to Uganda. I smiled as I reflected over my time in Israel, and my time travelling. All I could do was thank the Lord for everything – it was astounding to think of all the things that had happened.

Bethlehem and Hebron: Palestinian Territories

There exists an enormous ocean of opinion in regards to the Israel/Palestine argument. One Israeli I met wisely concluded that you could argue strong enough for either party and have people convinced either way. So I am not even going to entertain the thought of talking about the background of the Israel/Palestine debacle, I will just present an account of my experience there.

While in Israel, I really wanted to take a trip to the 'west bank' Palestinian territories. Going there alone would be time consuming and require several different modes of transport (a bus to get to the border, a shuttle from the border, and then another bus from there), I really did not have the time or patience to deal with the whole process of it. So I opted for to take a political tour that would provide all the transport and make it easy. The tour went to Bethlehem and Hebron; and would also make a stop at the Bethlehem Church for us to look around and see the place Jesus was born. It was the perfect tour for me – it killed two birds with one stone!

There were only 8 of us on the tour, so we were able to really get to know each other over the course of the day. We were picked up in Jerusalem by a small bus and driver who drove us through the border and to the house of our Palestinian tour guide. Then we got out of the bus and got into a different van and met our tour guide. As a Palestinian, he is not allowed to go to Jerusalem, so he has to employ someone else to pick the tour group up and drop them back.

Our first stop was the Bethlehem church. We were met at the church door by another tour guide – an expert on the church. He knew the church very well and told us fascinating information about it. He hurried us downstairs to the cave where Jesus had been born. We were wondering why he was in such a rush, then he explained that they were expecting a large group of pilgrims and they were going to do a mass in the cave so it was going to be closed to the general public. We got into the cave just in time – in fact, we were the only ones there (for about 5 seconds).

The cave was cozy and serene. It was interesting to learn that in that very cave they had buried all the babies that had died as a result of King Herod's command to slaughter all the Bethlehem-born infants under the age of two.

Another cave had been excavated right beside it. For many years a Catholic saint had lived there, translating the Bible. He is buried there.

We left the caves and explored the rest of the church. The church is the oldest church in the world. It is interesting because it is a sacred place for so many different denominations within Christianity, and the church building itself is owned by about three different denominations. As a result, there have been many disputes over renovation/restoration decisions. The largest stalemate lasted from the 15th century until very recently. In the end the government stepped in and so the much-needed renovations could begin.

Saying goodbye to our tour guide, we headed back to the van and the political part of the tour commenced. It was not a pretty picture. Israeli soldiers have imposed restrictions on the freedoms of the Palestinians, and basically they can do whatever they like. They make it very difficult for the Palestinians to travel and move about. There are checkpoints everywhere. Sometimes there are multiple checkpoints on the same street. It is really hard to describe it. Imagine you are a pedestrian walking down a main street of your town. Now imagine that as you are walking, you are passing army soldiers wielding powerful machine guns who can ask you questions, check your ID cards, inspect you, beat you up, arrest you, or simply deny you admittance at their absolute discretion. So if they are in a charitable mood you may walk the entire stretch of road uninterrupted, or else if they are having a bad day, you could find yourself beaten and lying in the gutter. Some checkpoints are small boxes where the soldiers just watch you. Others have metal detectors. Others are turnstile gates. We visited one refugee camp where at one stage the only entry/exit point for the entire camp was one turnstile. There were over 12,000 people living in the camp, so the simple matter of going outside of the camp to go to work became a huge process where people had to line up for hours and hours. That has now changed for that camp, but the reality of lining up and being restricted still remains.

The border crossings from Palestine to Israel are testament to this. For the Palestinians who work across the border, they must budget for 4-5 hours of waiting in traffic to get through to the other side. Morning and night. People begin lining up at 4am in order to be at work on time at their office which is 30 minutes away. I met a traveller who was staying on the Palestinian side. One day she had a meeting in Jerusalem at 1pm. It was meant to take 1 hour to get there. She caught the 10am bus and was still stuck in the bus waiting at the border at 3.30pm. These are the everyday realities that we simply cannot fully begin to understand.

We visited the huge dividing wall that 'protects' the people. It is menacing and blanketed with barbed wire. Many artists have come and created political murals or painted messages of peace over the wall.

We visited downtown Hebron. It is a ghost town. Most people have been chased out of town or else their properties and houses have been taken and occupied by Israeli 'settlers'. The 400 settlers live in these former Palestinian homes and terrorise the remaining Palestinians with verbal abuse. Settlers living on the first floor teach their children to sit outside on the balcony and fire BB pellets or spit on the Palestinians walking the streets below. They throw trash, large chunks of concrete, human urine, raw eggs – anything that could belittle or humiliate the Palestinians. Shopkeepers have had their goods ruined by the trash and eggs hurtling from above. Many have shut up their shops and have left. Some shopkeepers stand up for themselves and have banded together by installing sheets of chicken wire over the footpaths to catch the debris thrown by the settler children. The chicken wire is bent and buckled from the weight of the debris that have been tossed. It is hard to believe that this happens everyday.

In the short time that we were in Hebron we bore witness to multiple injustices. Twenty minutes before we had arrived in Hebron a settler child had attacked a Palestinian child and had cracked open his skull. Later on, we personally witnessed a young child of around 7 years old being arrested by Israeli soldiers and led away to the Army headquarters. I do not know his 'crime', but our tour guide suspected he had probably disrespected the soldiers or had been walking in an area he was not allowed to go.

We sat down for lunch at the house of a Palestinian family. After lunch we sat outside and were talking and telling jokes. A local man sat down and joined in our conversation. Two minutes later some soldiers indicated that he had to leave – apparently he was not allowed to be on that street and so he had to move on. As we were sitting we saw some UN Observers walk past. They patrol the streets and take pictures of any abuse that happens to the people. Our tour guide explained that the Observers are even used to walk Palestinian children to school because the parents are not allowed to access the school's street, and if the children were not chaperoned they would be attacked and verbally abused by the settlers. Even the children are subjected to all this!!

As a visitor with a foreign passport, I felt like I was at a concert with an All-Areas-Access card. We were untouchable, we were free to go anywhere. But it was so different for the Palestinians. There were streets that even our tour guide could not take us – he would give us the information and then wait nearby while we took a look around. The town was so strange because it was so empty and devoid of life. It was like the scene in a horror movie. Everything was empty. Bullet holes decorated many of the building facades. No-one was on the streets. Everyone, both settlers and Palestinians, were basically barricaded away in their homes.

Our tour guide explained a lot about what he had seen and experienced. He shared stories of how the soldiers would pick on certain people and force them to stand against a wall for hours and hours, and how they would arrest people for no reason and then incarcerate them for 6 months (or longer!). He told us that every time he travels overseas he is detained and interrogated for 4 hours. He is so used to it that he builds that extra time into his travel itinerary.

He showed us how the soldiers and settlers try to demean and humiliate the people and make them feel inferior. But the Palestinian people are determined to not let their behaviour erode their selfworth. The Palestinian people are extremely warm and friendly. They are very open and are generous hosts. Whatever your views are, if you are in Israel, you should make the trip across the border to Palestine and meet the locals and experience it for yourself. Don't listen to those who tell you that it is dangerous and to avoid it. Go and see for yourself what these people are living through every day. The Palestinians are often portrayed as dangerous and violent but that simply is not true. They are seeking only peace. They are not resentful towards Israelis – they recognise that it is only a few extremists who are making their lives miserable, just as it is only a few Palestinian extremists who gave them all a bad name.

This is not the past – this is the present. This is not just a place where injustice happened in the past, this is where injustices are being lived out every day – right in front of my own eyes! I have visited many places filled with recent tales of injustice – Sarajevo, Berlin, and Budapest for starters – but that was all in the past. This is happening right now!

We exited through the last turnstile checkpoint back to the van. We drove in silence back through the border to Jerusalem. As we drove away I looked back and for one last time read the massive warning sign which reads:

This Road leads to Area “A” Under the Palestinian Authority. The Entrance for Israeli Citizens Is Forbidden, Dangerous To Your Lives And Is Against The Israeli Law.

I drove away with mixed feelings. Rage. Fury. Sadness. Sympathy. Admiration.
But most of all, I just had love and heartache for these wonderful people who have had their freedoms restricted and who live their lives subject to such frustrating regulations.

The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, Jerusalem

I had just done a tour of the Biblelands and I had seen many different places, and I have to say, it was so great to see them.... However, because of all the people and ornamentation around each site I often felt 'dry' while there. Shepherded in and shepherded out. There was no feeling or emotion or significance that I felt while visiting most of these places, and I felt a bit sad. I arrived in Jerusalem at the hostel where I was staying and I was really praying, Lord, these places are where you walked, where you lived, where you breathed, where you died - help to make it real for me.

So I dropped off my gear and I headed straight to the church of the holy sepulchre - the site of Calvary hill, where Jesus' cross had stood, and his tomb. I was rushing there because I knew that it was closing soon. And as I went there, an amazing thing happened - all the streets and pathways and alleys became empty - only a few people, and it was only 6.30pm, hardly late. I was wondering why it was so quiet because I had been bracing myself for a battle of crowds.

I found the church through the labyrinth of covered alleys lined with shops (most were closed or were closing) and I walked inside. I had heard online that the church closed at 7 and by now it was 6.45, so I quickly rushed up the staircase to calvary hill where the cross stood. There were a few people there, not many, but enough to form a 5 minute queue to touch the stone that had apparently sat beneath the cross.

As I was in line so many thoughts were running through my head - I was wondering about the accuracy of the claim that this was THE rock. But most of all I was scared that I would feel nothing - that it would be another numb tourist experience in the very place that is meant to be the site of the most incredible act in history. So I continued to pray and I really asked the Lord to make it real for me.

So it was finally my turn and I knelt down and put my hand through a small golden hole where you can touch the stone. I touched it and I felt nothing, it was just a stone. Inside I was thinking "ohhh Lord, I spose that's it then, its just like everything else", but then as I retracted my hand and moved away, I was hit by such intense grief I started to cry and cry.

I moved to the side and found a place in front of the cross where I could kneel. And I knelt there on the floor and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. And when the tears stopped, I felt so much peace. I sat there for a long time - even though it was after the official closing time, they let us stay for a lot longer, I was there in front of the cross for about an hour. I really felt like the Lord was seeking my heart and wanted to get me alone - away from all the people who I talk with all day long.

I finally looked up from where I was kneeling and I noticed again that the place was really clearing out. It was becoming so still and peaceful. I went again to the stone of the cross, and I had such peace in my heart. I went there and as I slipped my hand through the golden hole and touched the rock, I just whispered thank you. Thank you Lord Jesus. Then I stood up and walked down the stairs (and I had no pain or pins and needles from kneeling for an hour or anything!).

I walked down another staircase towards the tomb. When I reached there the last people had left and I had the whole place to myself. I was able to take time and not be shepherded about. I just stood there and I could feel the strong presence of the Lord. I thought to myself that yes indeed this is Holy ground that I am standing on. I took my time and was really enjoying being completely by myself. Then I slowly climbed the stairs and was heading to the main part of the church where the pews were, when a security person approached me and said that they were about to close the church. I had seen everything that was important to me, and it was almost 8pm, so I left and walked back out into the quiet streets.

Once again, there were pretty much no people out at all. I walked back to my hostel and just spent the night by myself, not talking to anyone, just being with the Lord. I was so grateful to the Lord for giving me that sacred time with him by myself. On my travels I was constantly surrounded with people and had very little time to just spend in solitude with the Lord. That was my special time. Right there in Jerusalem.

Israel: The Biblelands

Israel – the Bible lands! I was so curious to go there and see everything with my own eyes. I was also excited because I was going to meet up again with Vered- the Israeli woman I had met while couchsurfing in Vienna. I arrived in the morning at Ben Gurion airport. I took the train to Be'er Sheva where Vered lived. She picked me up at the train station. I recognised her immediately, she was wearing bright yellow and was radiant like a sunflower. She drove us back to her place and she made me a delicious breakfast of granola, fruit, yoghurt and cinnamon – she had remembered from Vienna that I loved granola! I was so grateful for her incredible generosity and hospitality! She suggested that we head out that afternoon to the Negev desert. I thought it was a great idea! I took a shower and changed, while she made us a delicious picnic lunch to take with us. Be'er Sheva is the gateway to the desert. We headed off, together with her dog Dharma. It only took an hour to get to the spot. It was at the lip of a huge canyon called a makhtesh. It was huge, and so beautiful to look out at. There was no one else around, it was so calm, quiet and still. It felt like we were the only people in the world. Dharma the dog had a blast running up and down the hills. Vered and I set up our picnic and had a good catch up. She had prepared some delicious food for us, delicious bread and salads. It was so nice!

Afterwards, she took me to another place where the rocks were rich in minerals that had stained the sands and rocks all different colours. There were many different rocks and sands in several vivid colours. It was so fascinating. Vered had even more planned for us! We went to visit a friend of hers who lives in the desert. On the way we stopped in to have a look at a kibbutz and to see Ben Gurion's desert house. Ben Gurion was a very influential president over Israel who encouraged people to bring life into the desert and make use of the desert lands. He ended up building a house in the desert and living there in a kibbutz. A kibbutz is a communal living compound, where people work together to live a self sustaining lifestyle, cooking together and sharing the workload. We continued on to Vered's friend's house. She was lovely – a lab technician working towards her PHd. She lives in a small community with her husband and young daughter, walking distance from a laboratory campus for a main university. She took us for a tour inside the laboratory. They are researching the desalination of water for conservation. Other students were there on exchange programmes from big universities from the states including Yale. It was very interesting!

We went back to her house and had a lovely dinner. By the time Vered and I got back, I was about ready to collapse from exhaustion! It had been a long day but it was an amazing start to my Israel adventure! The next day we just relaxed. We slept in and the only thing we did was to go out to a local restaurant for lunch. It was just what I needed – a rest!

The following day I had booked a tour to explore some places of Biblical significance including Nazareth, Capernaum, the Sea of Galilee, and the Jordan river. The tour only picked people up from Tel Aviv or Jerusalem. It was easier for me to get to Tel Aviv, so I dutifully got up at 4.30 in the morning to get there on time for the tour! The tour was fantastic. Our guide was very interesting and passionate about each place. He would take out his Bible and read to us, reminding us of the Biblical story surrounding each place. It seemed to me that wherever there was a historical place, they would build a church on it. The churches themselves were quite beautiful, and being built on significant places made them unique – sometimes you would wind your way down into crammed underground cellars to view the original historical place. In Capernaum we visited the house of Apostle Peter. All that remained were the foundations, and then suspended on top was a strange circular church which looked like a UFO. It was all a bit amusing to me, but still, I was really humbled and in awe of these places. We stopped at the site where Jesus had fed the 5000, which was located in a beautiful church. Outside the church you could see the hills where the people were all sitting. It was an incredible moment to put the story together with the actual location. We also saw the hill where the herd of pigs had been standing before Jesus released a man's legion of demons into them and they had run to the sea and drowned. It was amazing to be there.

We had lunch right on the edge of the sea of Galilee. I ate a delicious packed lunch that Vered had made me. Continuing on, we arrived at the Jordan river, the site of Jesus' baptism, and the river the Israelites had crossed. It was so different to the other places we had been which were hot and dry and devoid of shade. The Jordan river was a refuge of solace and was lush beyond description. It was so shady and peaceful. I put my feet in the water. It was very refreshing. In the gift shop I got to hold a 2000 year old coin – a mite – the very type of coin that was mentioned in the story of the poor woman who gave the church 2 coins – everything she had. I had no intention of buying the coin, but how often can you handle a 2000 year old coin? Israel is so rich in antiques and historical items, there is such an abundance that many things are not locked away behind glass in a museum – you can actually touch and buy these artefacts. They have a joke:

What do you do when you find a 150 year old coin?
a. hand it in to the government
b. keep it for yourself

The answer is neither: it's only 150 years old, you might as well just leave it on the ground!

The tour ended there, and they kindly dropped me off in Jerusalem later that evening with some other group members. In Jerusalem I had booked a hostel. I knew I would not have a lot of time in the city because I had another tour booked for the next day. So I prioritised everything and formed a strategy. I dropped off my bags and headed straight to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. I will detail it in my next blog.

Istanbul, Turkey

How can I summarise my experience in Istanbul? I would start by saying that Istanbul impacted on all of my senses. Istanbul was full of colour, tastes, sounds, smells, and textures.

I arrived in Istanbul in the evening. The bus station was miles away from the main city, but free shuttles took you the rest of the journey. I got off in Taksim square and walked down a main shopping street to my couchsurfer's apartment. My couchsurfer lived in an old, historic apartment block in an excellent location in the city. I marched myself up the four flights of stairs with all my bags and tried to catch my breath before ringing the bell. My host opened the door and explained that he was just about to go out – I had arrived just in time! He showed me where my room was, and left me the WiFi code and a spare key before heading out to his appointment. I had a quick shower then went out to hunt down some dinner.

I walked 5 minutes to one of the major pedestrian-only roads Istiklal road. It was full of people and all manner of shops, boutiques, malls, cafes, and restaurants. There were lots of little alleyways running off Istiklal, they were crowded with cafes and buzzing with activity. The prices in Istanbul were a bit more expensive than what I had grown used to in the smaller towns. In my stubbornness I couldn't settle on anything, so I ended up just buying some rice – but don't misunderstand me – having rice for dinner was not a desperate last resort – in fact it was one of my favourite foods to eat in Turkey! In Istanbul you can buy rice anywhere – they even have vendors with small carts selling rice on the footpath. I don't know the trick to how they cook rice in Turkey, but it is some of the most delicious rice I have ever tasted!

I wandered the streets a little longer until the cold drove me back to the apartment. Europe was definitely descending into winter and I was not keen on hanging around for it – the sooner I left, the better!

My couchsurfer and I got along well, and we had some good conversations. He gave me good tips on where to visit in Istanbul. I only had a couple of days, so I needed a good plan. On the map, my host pointed out interesting areas and landmarks to see, and showed me areas to avoid. Being the type of person I am, my ears suddenly pricked up when he told me the areas not to go to, and they became the first places that I wanted to visit.

I began my day with the touristy parts of town. I bought a sampler plate of baklava from a famous baklava house. I consumed so much sugar in that one sitting that I was surprised that I did not collapse from overindulgence! (I did, however, become quite the baklava connoisseur).

I walked over the 2 level Galata bridge. On the top, cars and pedestrians make their way to the other side; vendors sell corn on the cob and bread rolls, while fishermen cast their lines into the murky river below. On the bottom level seafood restaurants with bright neon signs jostle for customers.

I bought a corn-on-the-cob and munched away as I walked past beautifully designed mosques and buildings. My first stop was the city Basilica Cistern. This was an underground plumbing system used centuries ago. Inside it was dark, and shallow water covered the entire room, punctuated by large, illuminated columns. Raised walkways ran the length of the room that allowed you to walk around and view the columns. Golden and scarlet light lit up the columns from the base, and cast the most incredible reflections in the water. It was breathtaking.

I walked back into the bright sunlight in a bit of a daze. I headed across the road to the Hagia Sophia – an exquisite building which over the centuries had served many different peoples – originally built as a church, it later became a mosque, and more recently, a museum. It was huge inside. It had the most beautiful and ornate chandeliers. Hidden near the back of the building was a small stone ramp which led to the upper level. The inside is in the process of a large restoration project, and scaffolding takes up almost a quarter of the space, but even with the eyesore, it doesn't detract from the beauty of it.

I left the church and crossed the garden square to the Blue mosque. As I lined up I got prepared for entry – it was an efficient process, but still a process no less. As a woman, I had to wear a covering over my head, and then all shoes had to be removed and placed into plastic bags. They ushered us in, inspecting our clothes to make sure we were dressed modestly enough. Inside the mosque it was spacious and large. Soft, thick carpet lined the floor, and large chandeliers hung from the ceiling. It was my first time in a mosque, and it was a lovely one. I wandered around a few other places in the city, then headed to the 'bad' areas that my couchsurfer had warned me about. 

The 'bad' areas consisted of dilapidated low-cost housing, broken pavements and dusty roads. Roosters, chickens and goats roamed all over the streets. Colourful washing hung suspended high above the ground, strung between buildings. Markets pulsed with energy and life. People mingled everywhere. Children sat on the curb giggling and playing games. Vendors sold rice and corn on the cob. Small cafes churned out kebabs to queues of hungry patrons. The aromatic smoky flavour drew you from miles away. I felt such joy from these so-called 'dangerous' places. It was my favourite part of my time in Istanbul.

Back at my couchsurfer's place, we chatted about Turkish culture and traditional foods. The next day was my last day in Istanbul. I had a relaxed morning with my couchsurfer watching a movie, then he suggested that I spend the day going around tasting all the different Turkish foods. It didn't take much convincing to get me on board – I loved Turkish food! We headed out to a local cafe and ordered a traditional wrap with mixed spices and salad. It was very tasty! My couchsurfer had to then go and do some work, but he gave me a list of foods and the best places to get them. I had such a great time. I took my time, hopping from street to street, taking in all the smells, sounds, and activity. I stopped in a cafe for rosehip tea, tried some authentic Turkish delight, bought freshly squeezed fruit juice from a local market, tried a pastries and bread at a bakery, and a traditional dessert at a fancy cafe.

My crazy day of trying food was really the best way to end my time in Turkey, since the food in Turkey was just so delicious, and so much a part of the culture. I picked up my backpack and waved farewell to my couchsurfer. I took the bus to the airport, settled on a bench and got a little bit of sleep before my flight boarded at 3am. Goodbye Turkey! I will miss your gastronomic delights!

Canakkale and Gallipoli, Turkey

I left Selcuk and took a bus to Izmir, and then another bus to Canakkale. Canakkale is a small city on the coast of the Dardanelles. It is the largest town nearest to Gallipoli. I arrived in the evening and was met by my couchsurfer, Yagmur – a Turkish student who was studying Japanese language teaching at the local university. We bought a chicken durum roll and walked to her apartment. She lived in a huge apartment with two other students. They were all lovely girls and they were great hosts, they would make me food and were so friendly. That night we bonded over music and we ended up sitting on the floor in the living room singing songs on the ukulele. They were going to a student party the following night with a karaoke theme, and they suggested that we all sing a song on the ukulele. So we decided on a simple song – 'Call Me Maybe' and practiced it.


The next day I had booked a tour to Gallipoli. Gallipoli is a very important place for New Zealanders and Australians because it was the site of a huge, gruelling, bloody battle from WWI. We suffered large casualties in the battle and the men had survived under terrible conditions – 9 months of trench warfare in one of the hottest summers on record, and then, ironically, one of the coldest winters on record.

The Gallipoli campaign was a series of blunders right from the start. The British were interested in securing the Dardanelles in order to get control of Constantinople (Istanbul) and thus end the war. They had planned to send the Navy up through the straights to the city. Deluded, the British commanders believed that they could simply turn up and that Turkey would surrender to them immediately. They had grossly underestimated their enemy. The Turks put up a strong defence against the Navy and destroyed several of their most powerful ships. Many battleships sank.

So Churchill and Kitchener formed a new plan – a land infiltration. The British, French, New Zealander and Australian troops were involved.
The New Zealand and Australians – the ANZACS, were meant to land on a specific beach which was flat and wide. Their directions were to secure the beach and advance into the land, securing strategic positions and taking control of the northern Dardanelle coast. However, the marker that was floating in front of the beach had shifted in the tide, and when dawn broke and the men landed at the beach, they found themselves in a very different position. They were on a narrow beach surrounded by cliffs. The Turks were waiting at the top of the cliffs and rained attacks on them right away. The beaches were stained red from the blood of our men. And that was only the first day. The battle raged for many months before the men were called to retreat and were evacuated out.
Growing up in New Zealand you hear about Gallipoli a lot, but it was so powerful to actually visit the place and see if for myself. The people on my tour were mostly middle aged New Zealanders, with a few Aussies and other nationalities. Our tour began at a restaurant where lunch was included in the price of the tour. It was a scrumptious lunch, and it gave us a chance to get to know the other people on the tour.
We loaded into a medium sized tour bus and our guide talked us through the day's program. It was fascinating to visit each beach – first we visited the beach they were meant to land at, at then we moved to ANZAC Cove, where they actually had landed. It was a beautiful sunny day, and it was hard to imagine how it had looked as the sun rose over the land on that fateful morning when they arrived. It was very moving. Grown men had tears in their eyes.
I had watched a documentary on Gallipoli the day before I had taken the tour, and it really helped me to remember many of the details and imagine everything as it had been. The day to day reality of life in the trenches. We visited some trenches – even 100 years later the scars on the land remained and you could still walk through the maze of trenches.
We visited the Australian memorial at Lone Pine, and then the New Zealand memorial at Chunuk Bair. It was a very special moment.


We were just about to drive back to town when the bus made a tight curve a bit too fast and the wheel suspension broke. The wheel itself was fine, but everything holding up that side of the bus collapsed. The bus limped to a stop, nursing a large tilt. In fact, the bus driver was going to keep driving but all the NZ men felt the lurch and the subsequent lean and ordered the driver to stop. Then a bunch of NZ guys got out and assessed the situation. I couldn't help but laugh – it was such a NZ male thing to do – I was pleased to be back in the company of practical men who could fix just about anything with that Kiwi 'no. 8 wire' mentality. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done for the bus and our guide arranged for two other buses to pick us up and take us back.


I got back to Canakkale and was in a rush to get to the apartment in time for the student karaoke party. I walked in the door just in time – they were about to leave! I grabbed my ukulele and headed out the door with them. We took a taxi to town and made our way into the crowded bar. It was absolutely packed! Soon a band started to play. We danced and sang (although it was all in Turkish so I could only dance). It was a lot of fun, and a nice release after quite an intense day!
The band finished and the karaoke began. The Turkish young people were great – they were very confident and just went out and had fun regardless of their singing ability. They would really encourage and support one another, and they all had so much fun. I admired their freedom! It's not like that in New Zealand!



Our turn came and we headed up on stage with my ukulele. I played as loudly as I could but unfortunately the sound of the ukulele was very quiet compared to all the noise going on. Despite that, we sang our hearts out and had a great time performing! Yagmur and I left shortly after that – I was exhausted!

The next morning I packed up my bags and headed on the bus to my final Turkish destination - Istanbul.

Selcuk and Ephesus, Turkey

I arrived in Turkey at the break of dawn. My ferry landed in Kos, and then I took a smaller ferry to Bodrum. Bodrum was a lovely coastal town with a castle and lots of beautiful boats and markets. I walked to the bus station. I had planned on going to Izmir, but my couchsurfer had fallen through, and since I had no other reason to visit Izmir, I had decided against going there, and instead chose to go to the town of Selcuk – the gateway to Ephesus. I had read online that there were no direct buses to Selcuk, and so they advised taking a bus to Soke, and then a bus to Selcuk. So I found a bus going to Soke, bought a ticket and boarded. It was an amazing bus ride – we had WiFi, movies, TV shows, and there was a waiter bringing around free snacks and drinks.

When I got to Soke I discovered that the internet had misinformed me – and actually there were no buses running from Soke to Selcuk. Undeterred, I asked about alternate ways to get to Soke. They said that I could take a bus to a certain town and then take a connecting bus from there. The bus was a minibus and was not as fancy as the previous one I had taken – no drinks or snacks there! We headed off, after circulating the town for ten minutes while our driver shouted out the window to any passersby to attract more passengers to fill the remaining seats. After driving for about an hour, he stopped on the corner of an intersection and told me that this was my stop. I got out and took a look around. It was a strange small town, with no bus station. I asked a few locals where to go, but none understood English. So I followed the road signs until I was on the main road pointed in the direction of Selcuk. I figured that any bus going that way would pass me and I would be able to flag it down. I came across a man who looked like he was waiting for a bus – and he was, so I waited with him. After 40 minutes the man gave up and went away. I had nothing better to do, so I just stayed put and waited for this alleged bus. Soon some children and teenagers noticed me and were eager for me to talk to them. I talked to them briefly, wondering all the while about when this bus would ever roll around. Just then, a sleek black car pulled up and a man asked me if I wanted a ride to Selcuk. I am not normally one to hitchhike, but I had heard from some Turkish friends of mine that it is common to hitchhike in Turkey, and anything was better than sitting on the side of the road. So I accepted and climbed in the car. He was an interesting man – a professor in Veterinary sciences at the local university. He kindly dropped me off right in the heart of Selcuk and even gave me a bag of dried figs from his garden. I thanked him and waved goodbye. I had made it to Selcuk, in a strange, round-about way which set the tone for a lot of my Turkish experiences!

The people in Turkey are extremely outgoing and friendly. Even as I walked to my hostel in Selcuk people were asking me if I needed assistance with directions – which was great because little did I know but I had actually taken a wrong turn. I checked into the hostel, put down my bags and assessed my situation. It was 5pm. I was going to visit the ancient site of Ephesus the next day and would be leaving the following morning. If there was anything that I wanted to see in Selcuk, I had to do it right there and then.
I decided that I would quite like to visit the house of the Virgin Mary – a small dwelling on top of a mountain where the Virgin Mary had lived for the last 9 yeas of her life. The house was 10kms away from town. There were no buses that ran there, and a taxi would be too expensive. It would take a good 2 hours each way to walk there. I had been sitting down on a bus all day, so I just went for it. I began to walk. As I got further out of town, locals started approaching me and asking if I was lost! I assured them that I knew where I was going. I found the road that led to the house and began walking down it. I stopped briefly to buy an apple from a roadside stall. It was run by a man and his elderly mother. The mother took me in her arms and embraced me, and told me that the next time I came to Turkey I should stay with her and she would cook for me morning, noon and night. Thanking her, I tore myself away and continued up the road. I finally reached the house. It had taken me the full two hours to get there. I knew that the house was closed from visiting hours, but I figured I could still have a look around the outside. The security guards waved me through and told me to be quick. It was peaceful and quiet. I was the only one there. The house itself was beautifully designed and made of bricks. I peeked inside the windows. It was small inside. It would be a great place to live, I could see why Mary had loved it there.
I started to head back down the road. Along the way I met two nuns who lived there. They were lovely people, and, bless them, they were quite concerned about me walking all the way back to town – so much so that they flagged down their priest and asked him to give me a lift back to town. He gave me a ride and told me of his life and his work – he had been all over the world! He was listening to pop singer Adele's song on repeat. Literally. He apologised about it the fourth time it began, but he just loved it so much he listened to it continually. He also said that he had a set of keys to the Virgin Mary's house, and apologised profusely that he hadn't seen me earlier so that he could have unlocked the house for me to have a look inside.


He dropped me in the center of town, I thanked him and set off in search of dinner. I ended up meeting a man selling carpets. Now, this is something about Turkish people – well, maybe not a general sweeping statement, but from what I have heard, and from my experience – Turkish people are extremely friendly and chatty. And as much as they would like to make a sale, whether or not you buy from them is irrelevant to their interest in you (and it is not just because I am female – males attest to this as well!). So I met this carpet man, standing outside of his carpet shop. He asked me a few questions about where I was from and where I had been. I answered him, and then let him know that I had no interest in buying a carpet. He invited me to play backgammon. I agreed, we sat down at a table outside the shop and he taught me how to play backgammon. While we played, we chatted a bit. He was lamenting that he likes to be friendly and practice his English but most travellers ignore him. He couldn't understand why. I chuckled to myself, because if I didn't know better about Turkish people then I would have probably reacted to him the same way. We tend to be too weary of being set up for a sale.
After the game (which he won) I asked him if he could tell me a good place to buy baklava. He left his shop in the hands of his assistant and walked me to the local baklava shop himself! I bought a baklava piece, and I have to admit, it was one of the best baklavas I have ever had. I said goodnight to the carpet man and I headed back to the hostel. What a crazy first day in Turkey.


The next morning I had planned to go to Ancient Ephesus – the huge, influential city from 2000 years ago that apostle Paul, John and the Virgin Mary had visited. Apostle John had lived there too, and his tomb lies in St John's Basilica in Selcuk. Ancient Ephesus is about 3km out of Selcuk town. Easy walkable distance!

I had heard that crowds could get busy in Ephesus, so I planned to go early, but in the morning I decided to catch up on making my next travel plans and head to Ephesus a little later in the day. Crowd or no crowd, I would take it as I found it. As it happened, it suddenly started to rain in a torrential downpour! There was thunder and lightening, and water flooded the ground everywhere. I decided to just relax and wait the storm out. At around 2pm the storm cleared and the rain stopped. I headed out and began walking to Ephesus. On the way I met a Turkish man who was also walking to Ephesus. He ended up paying my ticket to get in, and we spent the afternoon walking around the site together. He had been there before so he was able to show me things I otherwise would have missed.


Ephesus was incredible. It was such a large area of ruins – a big town center! There were wide streets paved in marble, theatres, a library, houses, temples, churches, baths, squares – even a public toilet! There was a lot to see, and what I found the most amazing was that in most places you were free to walk and touch whatever you wanted! Things were not shrouded away behind fences or roped off – you could freely walk around and explore. We walked through many different buildings. I am sure that we also went through places we were not really meant to go through, but it made it all the more interesting.


My Turkish friend bought me a drink and we chatted for a bit before heading back to town. As we were walking out of Ephesus he turned to me and said “Gina..... I love you”. I thought 'Oh noo!!!' and I shrugged it off and sternly replied “No, you don't”. He said it a couple more times, and even suggested that I take him back to New Zealand with me. It was all light-hearted, but it was rather annoying, so at the first intersection I told him that I was going the other way, I thanked him and said goodbye. Luckily, he was a good guy and didn't try to follow me or anything.

I headed to the Temple of Artemis. This temple is listed as one of the 7 wonders of the Ancient world. It doesn't look so wonderful now, it has mostly been overtaken by swamp land. It was actually a very beautiful spot, very peaceful, with lots of birdlife. The temple consisted of a few pieces of column, but one column remained fairly intact. At the top of the column was a large birdsnest, and birds were constantly flying in and out of it like an airport. I sat there for a while and drew a picture in my sketchbook. I trucked back into town and went to St John's Basilica, where apostle John had been buried. The church was mostly just a ruin now, but the decorated marble floors remained, and they still had a gleaming polished look about them.
It had been a big day of sightseeing and I had worked up an appetite. I found a kebab restaurant to stop at for dinner. I had beef and eggplant kebabs – they were delicious. Eggplant is one of my absolute favourites, I can't seem to go past it if it is mentioned on a menu. While eating, I met a middle aged NZ couple on the table next to me. They were really interesting and we had a great conversation. I haven't had much contact with New Zealanders in a long time, but in Turkey I met a tonne! Many New Zealanders make a pilgrimage to Turkey to the battlefields of Gallipoli. There were so many New Zealanders and Australians on the west coast of Turkey that I didn't even bother to ask where they were from – I already knew.
As I walked back to the hostel that night, I had to really watch my step – there were frogs and snails everywhere! The frogs would be constantly hopping on the footpath in front of me. They were well camouflaged – they looked like leaves in the breeze! There were also cats and kittens everywhere. I couldn't bring myself to pet them since I am sure they were filthy and riddled with parasites, but it did add a cute factor to each location.
It was only when I reached Turkey that I really felt the effects of the massive Ottoman Empire on Europe. Coming to Turkey didn't feel any different at all from other places in Europe. I found it to be very user friendly , spacious, and familiar. I realised that the Ottoman Empire, which had ruled over most of Europe for 400 years had certainly left its mark on the architecture and design of each city that it controlled – it was all the same! It was like a reverse culture shock - I found that I was actively seeking some sort of differences!

Santorini, Greek Isles

Villages built into the cliffs... Stark white walls and deep blue roofs. Sparkling waters, beaches, heat, fresh food, stimulating conversation and interesting personalities. This was my experience in Santorini. It was a dream come true to visit Santorini, the most famous of the Greek islands. Unbelievably, I had managed to find a couchsurfer on the island and had arranged to stay for a few days of sightseeing and relaxation. 

My couchsurfer, John, picked me up from the ferry and we headed back to his flat. He lived in a village in the middle of the island, the only village without any public transport! John's flat was great - it had a large patio looking straight out at the sea. You could watch the sunrise through the windows in the morning. Summer is the high tourist season and John had been working for a car rental company. It was his final week of work before the season ended and he would return to his home based website development business. 

John had to work that evening so he dropped me in the main town of Fira to have a look around. It was almost sunset, so I headed to the caldera (cliff face) through the narrow, twisting footpaths that ran between each building. Everywhere you looked there were houses and buildings built onto the cliff. It was like a patchwork quilt of rooflines and colours and designs. I found a good viewpoint high above the sea with a view of the town and the islands. It was stunning. When John finished work he picked me up and we stopped in a bakery to pick up some dessert before heading home. John was a vegetarian and a great cook. He whipped up all sorts of delicious meals for us over the time that I was staying. His neighbour also loved his cooking, and she would often pop in - conveniently around mealtimes! 

John knew the island very well and he gave me some great ideas of where to go and how to maximise my short time on the island. I followed his advice to the letter! The next day John took me on his work round of dropping the keys to tourists who had booked a rental car. Then he dropped me at an ATV rental shop and I hired an ATV dune buggy for the day! John had recommended that I hire one to make it easy for me to get around. On Santorini, the ATVs are very popular for tourists because they are cheaper and more fuel efficient than a car, and the perfect size to explore the island. They are also a tonne of fun! They adapt them to drive on the road, although they are technically just designed to drive along sand. It didn't even have a reverse gear, you just had to physically maneuver it with your feet. 

To begin with I was a little uneasy about driving it on the roads and I was concerned that I was going to go too fast and flip over (I was warned that it happened frequently). But after a while I built my confidence in driving it and soon I was zooming all over the island on it, and I would fly down any hills and see how much speed I could pick up. The fastest I ever got it to go was 45km/h. It was the perfect tool for getting around the island. I would arrive at a destination and then park it like a regular car. It was adorable to see all the little ATVs parked neatly in the carpark beside the regular sized cars. 

I visited many beaches on the island and several different villages. I walked through their little alleys and lapped up the culture. I went to the tip of the island to the lighthouse and I went to the local market where I loaded up on all sorts of fruits and paid next to nothing. I was shocked at how cheap it was! Santorini is covered in rich volcanic soil and it has strange effects on some fruits and vegetables, for example, eggplant is white, and zucchinis are round! The last major volcanic eruption on the island engulfed a city and buried it, fully preserved. I visited it - it was fascinating, you could literally walk through the footpaths of the ancient city and see inside the ruins of houses. They said that it was an interesting place for archaeologists because of the advanced technology that the society had - including multiple levels and toilets on the second floor of the house. 

I raced to visit the last village on my 'list' before it got dark - they had advised me not to drive the ATV at night. I met up with John back at his place, and we decided to go for a drink. We went to a local bar on the beach and chatted and listened to the live band that were playing. Later that night we swapped music and funny YouTube videos. The next morning I rode the ATV back to the rental shop and then took the bus to Oia, the second largest town on the island. 

Oia was full of tourists and brides taking their wedding pictures. Their grooms dutifully trotted behind them, sweating in their suits under the midday sun. I walked all through the paths of the town and found a reasonably priced cafe (reasonable for Santorini, anyway) that had a killer view of the caldera and the water, with a couple of picture perfect blue domed churches to boot. I ordered an omelet and just hung out there, drawing in my sketchbook. It was amazing just to sit and behold the view. I also met an elderly woman who was drawing sketches on the table next to me. We got chatting and she encouraged me to really make an effort to draw in the sketchbook every day (before this I had really not been very good at making the time to draw sketches and had only drawn a couple). After being inspired by this woman, and after sitting at the cafe for so long that I had probably outstayed my welcome, I made my way to the bus stop. 

I got off near John's work and one of his work colleagues kindly offered to drop me back at John's place. When I got back I found and his neighbor were sitting on the patio chatting and eating. I joined them and we philosophized over life. I was leaving that night on the 1am ferry to Turkey, so I began to pack. 

John had to go back to work, but he suggested that I take a walk through the village and have a look around. I finished packing and strolled down the pathways of the village. It was lovely. It is hard to describe the layout of these villages, the paths are not like regular places. There is no vehicle access in any of the actual village areas, so the footpath runs right between the houses, separating their front doors. And the pathways are not symmetrical, they curve and twist with the shape of the cliff or the house. They go uphill and downhill, up steps, down steps, through doorways and other passageways - you never quite know where you are going to end up - it is just like a maze! 

That evening John cooked me my last meal and he helped me work on my website a bit with his expertise. Then we loaded up his car and he dropped me off at the ferry. We had a hot drink as we waited for the ferry to offload, then we said farewell and I boarded the boat. 

Santorini was so different than what I had thought it would be. It is such a well-known touristy place, and yet I was able to have a very authentic and meaningful time there. I was so glad to have met John and his neighbour and once again I was so grateful and happy to be involved in Couchsurfing.

Athens, Greece

I was so excited to get to Greece, but I had heard such awful things about Athens, I was curious to see what it was all about. I had found a couch surfer and he was going to meet me at the metro station. I exited the airport and took the metro to the city. I found my couchsurfer right away - he was so distinctive with his curly hair! We walked back to his apartment and he presented me with a city map, the Wi-Fi code, the apartment key, a spare SIM, a list of places to visit in Athens, and all his details and address written down for me. I was so impressed! I think he was the most organised and understanding host ever! He had travelled extensively, so he just knew exactly what a traveller needed. I was so grateful to him! I took a quick a shower and then I was ready to explore! 

My host, Alex, took me for a tour around the area. We stopped for lunch, and then at a boutique chocolate cafe to try some chocolate. He took me to an art gallery and all down different streets and places. We ended up at the base of the Acropolis - it wasn't even that much of a walk! Alex had a class to attend that night, so he went to that while I explored. I walked up a rock that had an incredible view of the Acropolis. As the sun began to sink I raced up a nearby hill to catch the sunset. I decided not to take the path and climbed through the scrub and rocks so I could get there faster, it was a good idea, but it made my ascent rather steep and difficult, I felt more like a mountain climber! But Lord knows I am stubborn and determined and soon enough I had clawed my way right to the top. The view was magnificent. From the adjacent hill, the Acropolis gleamed in the orange light. I took the path down the hill and walked along a busy street lined with souvenirs and restaurants. It was great to be in Greece! It was warm and the people were so friendly - it seemed that they really make an effort to build relationships with their neighbours and local community. 

I met up with Alex when his class ended and we went to an open air cinema and saw a movie called 'The Best Offer'. The open air cinema is a specially designed large walled outdoor space lined with growing vines. In NZ and in Seattle the open air cinema consists of a large blow up screen in a park. In Athens it was like a proper cinema, they even had blankets for you to use if you were cold. It was a great experience, and the movie was really interesting too - with a big twist! We walked home, chatting about the movie and swapping travel stories. We even stopped for ice cream along the way. 

The next morning I headed out alone for a big day of sightseeing. I started by climbing another big hill close to Alex's apartment. It took about an hour to climb and had a fantastic view of the city. From there I walked through the city gardens to the Olympic track - where the Olympics had first been held all those years ago. It was unreal to be there! I then headed to the ancient Greek agora and other ruins. It was incredible to walk through these ancient marketplaces. Next I headed to the Acropolis museum. I had a delicious (and fairly reasonably priced) lunch at their cafe which looked straight out at the Acropolis. In high school I had taken Classical studies for several years and had learned all about these sites. At the museum I was reminded of all the details of the architecture and design of the Parthenon. 

I had been walking all morning so I just took my time at the museum, enjoying the air conditioning. To be honest, I was not really looking forward to climbing all the way up to the Acropolis, especially since it was the hottest part of the day. But how many times does one find themselves in Athens? I had to make the most of it. So I headed out of the museum and visited the theatre of Dionysus and then walked up to the Acropolis. I was pleasantly surprised - it really was not difficult at all to get up there! It took just a few short minutes! It was a piece of cake compared to the hill I had climbed that morning! I took my time looking around everything. I had to keep pinching myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. 

I slowly descended the hill and explored the area beside it, visiting some more ruins and discovering a gorgeous lane with some shabby chic houses full of character. I simply fell in love with them and I hung around the area for a while. I walked through the main square of the city and wound through a labyrinth of stalls and shops. At 5.30 Alex picked me up in his dad's car that he had borrowed for the evening, and we drove along the coast just out of the city to the Temple of Poseidon, built on a cliff overlooking the Aegean sea. We got there right on sunset. It was breathtaking. The sky was so alive and vivid with colour. We then went to a small nearby village called Lavrio and had dinner at a restaurant. It was one of the only times on my trip that I went out for dinner! It was delicious food. I was due to leave at 6.30 the next morning. Alex kindly dropped me off at the ferry terminal. I waved farewell and boarded my (massive) ferry to Santorini Island in the famous Greek isles. I enjoyed my time in Athens. I don't think it deserves its bad reputation. I found it to be full of color, vibrant cafes, friendly people, an active art scene and great food. The financial crisis in Greece is definitely a very big issue and is putting a lot of pressure on people, but day to day life continues as usual, people are out and about, frequenting cafes and movies and enjoying themselves. Who knows, maybe that's one of the reasons why they are still in such a precarious economic position!

Gina to The Rescue!

I was at the airport departure gate I was washing my hands in the restroom, when I heard someone inside a toilet cubicle trying to unlock the door - she was turning and turning it but for some reason it would not open! I noticed that she was trapped and could not open the door, so I told her I would help her. I took a look at the lock - it was different from the normal toilet lock. Luckily, I knew just what to do because of all the times I had rescued kids from being locked in the toilet when I was an Au pair. So I checked my bag for some sort of tool, but since my swiss army knife was confiscated at Brussels airport I didn't really have anything that would work. I kept searching and whipped out my wallet, I tried a coin but it was too thick, then I happened to have one little thin coin. I tried that and was able to twist the lock open!
The woman was very relieved. I was thrilled! I chuckled to myself over the skills that I learned as an Au pair!

Adventures in Transylvania (and beyond!)

With my spunky rental car I travelled far and wide through the Transylvanian countryside. I spent a morning in old town Brasov, a quaint medieval city with picturesque churches and buildings that begged to be photographed. Looming high above the city was a large imitation of the Hollywood sign announcing Brasov to the world. It was a bit of an oddity and I was so surprised and amused when I spotted it while driving into the city. Realising that time was slipping away, I headed back to the car and headed to another quaint city, Sibiu. 

I arrived and drove around looking for a car park. It was virtually impossible! Small lanes don't make for easy parking and pay parking seemed astronomically expensive. The best I could do was to drive around and see what I could, then I parked illegally down a side street and had a 5 minute glance around the block. I retreated to the car and studied the map. Unfortunately, since I always had to consider the car and the time, there were several things that I missed out on exploring properly. Sibiu was one, the other was Dracula's castle - in fact, I didn't get to go inside any of the castles in Romania, however I really can't complain because I had other wonderful experiences. 

I left Sibiu and headed through the countryside to Sighisoara (and no, when pronounced correctly it does not sound like a kind of dinosaur!). The motorways in Romania are curious, cars going 120kms stream passed villagers riding on horse and carts. Romania goes from extreme to extreme. There is a wealthy upper class who build gleaming buildings and houses, drive expensive cars and dine at flash restaurants - then there are the villagers who almost live in a parallel universe 50 years behind them. They live in rough little houses - some without running water; they grow their own food and use horses or donkeys to get around. Case in point: a sandwich at the airport cost 15 times what it would cost in a supermarket - I am not exaggerating - it was 15 times more expensive. I had only looked at the price for interest's sake, but even so, I nearly had a heart attack. I arrived in Sighisoara and stopped at a supermarket to collect groceries for the next couple of days. I loved Romanian supermarkets - I would always stop to use their bathrooms, and I was always thrilled at how far I could stretch my money. I was in Romania for three days so my total budget (not including the car) was €30 - and that had to cover my accommodation expenses as well. It was amazing - I paid for 2 nights of accommodation, and all my food for three days and still had a bit left over. 

When I arrived in town I had not booked a place to stay, so I bowled up to a hostel and checked in. I had some very interesting conversations with the other guests! The next morning I loaded the car, checked out, then took a walk to the old town. Apparently it was where Vlad the impaler had grown up. Vlad the impaler was the inspiration for the Dracula story - or so I was told. Despite the brutality of its former residents, the town was stunning. Cobbled paths, olde world architecture dripping with charm. Another photographer's dream! I explored the whole town and arrived back at the car just before the rain hit. I had a long drive back to Bucharest ahead of me. I wanted to have a bit of time to look around before flying out the next morning. Along the way back, I made things more interesting for myself by taking small side roads and going through small rural villages. The villages were fascinating and beautiful. It was like stepping back in time. I laughed out loud while driving through one village because I spotted some young teenage boys acting all cool and showing off to their friends because they were driving a horse and cart. Can you imagine, a couple of kids acting like gangsters while riding on a horse cart. 

In another village I nearly got stuck in the mud! The village was 10km away from the nearest paved road, it was all gravel and mud. When I reached the village, I had been driving around a little, then I turned down side street which I figured would head back to the main path, but instead it suddenly turned into a narrow, muddy, donkey track! The wheels were struggling to get free from the mud so I started praying and used a bit of maneuvering, then whacked the car in reverse and reversed for about 20m until I had room to safely turn around. I was thankful that my dad had taught me to be an expert reverser! I did feel for the car - it was brand new, and now it was absolutely filthy and caked in mud! I headed back to the motorway and continued on, singing along with the radio. 

I knew I had made it to Bucharest when I hit a huge traffic jam! Getting anywhere in Bucharest is extremely slow because of the intense traffic. And parking was just impossible. So I took a driving tour of the city, then headed out to the suburb beside the airport and checked in at a hostel there. I walked to the local supermarket and spent as much of my remaining currency as possible. I walked out with a bag full of food - I love the prices in Romania! The next morning I filled the car's tank - it nearly killed me when I saw how much it cost (it seems Romania has very high petrol costs!), but I couldn't complain because the car had been invaluable to me- and very fuel efficient too, I did over 800kms on one tank. I dropped it back to the airport, checked in to my flight and flew on to Athens, Greece! I was pleased to be leaving the cold - Romania was starting to get very cold and I wasn't about to hang around while it got colder!

The Tale of The Old Romanian Woman

I have always wanted to visit Romania! It wasn't in my original travel plan – I never thought that I would have the time or the money to get there. But it turned out to be another miraculous dream come true for me. I ended up having 3 days in Romania. Since time would be pressed, I decided to hire a car and travel around the countryside through Transylvania. I didn't want to be stuck just in Bucharest, and I also didn't want to be at the mercy of the public transport timetables. It worked out as a fantastic plan. I was able to stow my luggage in the boot so I never had to worry about storage, and I was granted three days of alone time! It was blissful. Plus, I do love to drive. I got the best deal I could from the airport care hire stalls (grumble grumble) and ended up with a brand new VW. I left the airport in my car, armed only with my fierce determination and a map of Romania.

Thanks to couch surfing, I had arranged to stay with the elderly mother of this Romanian man - he was away in Hong Kong and could not host me, but had asked his mother (who lives in a village in the countryside) if she could host me. She said she would love to - and I was so thrilled at the prospect of seeing the life of a country villager! He told me lots of information about how to find the house, and he warned me that she spoke no English, only Hungarian and Romanian. Luckily I had picked up a few words of Hungarian when I was in Hungary - but it was not much just: yes, no and thank you. So that afternoon I drove to this place.

A tiny little village, people driving horse and carts, huge pot holes in the road, small unsymmetrical rustic houses painted brightly. Very traditional village - only one shop in the whole town! I spent 30 minutes looking for the house because the houses are not numbered logically, much to the amusement of the locals (who had come out to look at me). I found the house finally and gratefully went inside. It looked bigger than other houses in the village because it had a courtyard driveway. The house itself was only four rooms - kitchen, bathroom, living room and bedroom. When I arrived I was the talk of the village! Many people gathered outside to have a look at me. The old lady had a friend around - another old lady. They both looked me over and talked between themselves enthusiastically, they were literally shocked that I was from New Zealand, it seemed like a world away. These women have probably never left Romania. In fact, the woman got a phone call and was even telling whoever was on the other line that I was from NZ!

Then the two women sat me down in front of a huge feast- homemade chicken casserole, bread, tomatoes (from the garden) and biscuits. Now, I forgot to mention, this woman does not even have running water, she has to collect it from a well. The food she had given me was everything she had. I felt so special and humbled by her lavish hospitality. There was only room for one person at the table so I had to eat there by myself, being watched by the ladies. After a while the friend left, and my host pottered around. When I finished eating, she sat down and ate.

She could not even do the dishes, she instead put the dishes away in a small cupboard - I guess she has a certain day when she does them to make the most of her water. After dinner we tried (and failed) to make conversation. It was just too impossible with the language barrier. So I sat her down and I got out my ukulele and I played her some songs! I figured that since she didn't know what I was saying then she wouldn't mind if I sang Christian worship songs. So I played and sang for her, and I really felt the Spirit of the Lord on me while I played, because I am not a great player or singer, but that night I was able to play and sing each song without error.

So I sang to the Lord, with all my heart, and when I looked up at the old woman, she was gently weeping. And in that moment I knew that she had just met Jesus. It seemed she was a Catholic woman, I noticed a few pictures around the place, but it seemed she had never met Jesus personally. But that evening, in some ukulele music in a language she doesn't speak, Jesus touched her. She kept indicating to me to sing more songs, so I did. I sang worship to the Lord with all the passion I have in me. She cried for a little while then when I finished she was smiling. After that she became even more gracious and generous to me and it felt like we had shared a bond. Of course, we still spoke different languages, so I could not discuss with her what she had experienced, but it showed me a lot about the way the power of the Lord transcends barriers of language and culture. Sometimes we don't need words.

In the morning she had heated me a bowl of water to wash with, and had prepared an extravagant breakfast for me (she had gone to the one shop in the village and bought fresh bread and bakery things). She carefully laid it all out for me, more chicken casserole, bread, a pastry and freshly picked grapes. I realised that she had given me all the rest of the casserole, leaving nothing for herself, so I insisted that we halve my plate. I found a way for us both to sit at the table together and eat, which was much nicer than eating alone.

What an incredible example of lavish generosity this lady showed. This dear old woman was giving me literally everything she had. Words cannot even express how grateful and in awe I was. I packed the car and I dropped her off at the doctor on my way out of the area, the whole experience still repeating through my head.

Sarajevo, Bosnia Herzegovina

Sarajevo is the capital of Bosnia Herzegovina, and is a city with a remarkably tragic and interesting history. It was the place where Franz Ferdinand was assassinated, which contributed to the start of WWI. Later, in WWII, Sarajevo was hit hard and the Jewish population went from approximately 30% of the city to having only 80 Jewish survivors left. The Jewish population never recovered, and today there are only 800-1000 Jews in the entire country. Then, after being part of Yugoslavia for several decades under Tito (a good time for the region), Bosnia sought their independence in 1992, sparking the siege attack from the Serbians. The Serbs occupied all the mountains that surround the city. They completely cut the city off and rained shells and bullets on the area day and night. At the height of the siege, the shells numbered 3000 a day and bullets numbered 1 million. Power and gas lines were all cut and communication buildings that housed telephone lines were shelled. 

The people had no food and had to endure bitter winters with no heating. The siege lasted over 1000 days, the longest in modern history, and ran from 1992 to 1995. The people had few weapons but the men fearlessly defended their homes, families and communities. Times were desperate. They burned books for warmth and as products became scarce, prices rose astronomically. The UN took control of the airport to keep it neutral, which further disadvantaged the Sarajevo inhabitants, as the UN limited the imports to only food and medical supplies, no weapons for the people to protect and defend themselves. The food the UN supplied was criticized heavily because it was terrible quality and often displayed expiry dates from the 1960s and earlier. Jokes went around that if the food was offered to cats or dogs, even they would refuse to eat it. However, throughout all this time, the people maintained as much normalcy as possible and would not let the Serbs crush their spirit. Children continued school lessons in their homes, people went to theater performances at night (the cost was a candle - to light the stage!). 

An 800m tunnel was built stretching from the free area of the city to the captured part of the city. It ran underneath the airport and allowed people to smuggle in weapons, food and other supplies.
The siege lasted for three years and 11000 civilians died during that time, including 1600 kids. The city commemorates them in several monuments across the city, including the Sarajevo 'roses' which mark the spot where a shell hit and killed three or more people. The 'rose' is made of a red resin which is poured into the shell crater on the pavement. There are over 100 roses in Sarajevo. Of course, each 'rose' has a unique story behind it. I learned of one 'rose' where people had been waiting in line for bread and a shell hit and killed 26 people. In the days that followed the deaths, a woman brought her cello and played all day for each victim, 26 days in total.

Now, of course the city is full of life and buzz, but the scars of the recent past are still present. I loved Sarajevo. I was couch surfing with a Turkish soldier and three other German couch surfers. We went out for several meals together and tried various Bosnian dishes including burek (pastry pie filled with meat or spinach or cheese), cevapi (pita filled with barbecued meat fingers served with yoghurt), and dvari (Bosnian omelette). I also tried tufahija, a stewed whole apple stuffed with cream - a scrumptious very sweet dessert! During my time in Sarajevo I loved walking the streets of the city, taking in the sights and sounds and people watching. The old part of town was filled with one storey shops and markets. (In fact, the streets were named for what they used to sell, so roughly translated it would read 'shoe street' or 'silversmith street'. They don't abide by those anymore! I loved walking through the large local produce markets, drooling over their colorful displays of fresh fruit and vegetables. I also went on two different free walking tours. They were both very interesting, and while one probably would have been enough for a normal person, hearing the two different perspectives helped me to understand the history in more depth and gave me time to process and remember the information. I visited a poignant photography exhibition from the Muslim massacre and attempted genocide from July 1995, then on my last day in Sarajevo I went to visit the Sarajevo tunnel. I think I spent my time in equal parts enjoying the present city, and learning of the city's history. I was only a child when all these events were unfolding, and while I remember hearing Bosnia always being mentioned in the war news, I never knew anything about what had actually happened here. I was glad to have taken the chance to properly educate myself from the best source - the primary source!
I felt a real affinity for Bosnia Herzegovina, and it is the first place on my trip that I would really like to return to someday.
I am writing this while waiting at the airport, next stop Romania!

Mostar, Bosnia Herzegovina

They warned me that things are different in Bosnia, that is, different to Croatia. I wondered what they meant. But on the bus trip from Dubrovnik to Mostar I soon learnt! Our bus journey was not so bad, we had stopped once to tighten the bolts on the wheels so they did not fall off, but apart from that it was hassle-free. Then we crossed the border into Bosnia – and that in itself took time because we had to pass through at least four checkpoints and at each one our driver would get out and have a cigarette with the guards.

Then once safely inside the Bosnian border our bus driver put the pedal to the metal and started driving about 20kms faster. We noticed immediately that all the drivers in Bosnia were crazy! Regardless of the oncoming traffic buses would pull into the other lane to overtake cars, and then trucks would overtake the buses.

After a couple of minutes we got used to the crazy driving and went back to resting and looking out the windows. We drove through beautiful countryside. Incredible. It was so green and lush. There were hardly any dwellings or anything, just miles and miles of fields and greenery.

I arrived in Mostar with another kiwi lady who had been staying in the same hostel as me in Dubrovnik. We were met at the bus terminal by a man from the hostel I had booked (I wasn't able to find a couch surfer). We walked the five minutes to the hostel and up the stairs to the dorm room. It was a great place, very clean and comfortable. We didn't even go out that evening, just stayed in the hostel and caught up on emails and travel plans.

Mostar is a very small town straddling a river. Over the river is a fairytale stone bridge. It is so picture perfect. The next morning we headed out to explore the town and see the bridge. You can't miss it, everything revolves around the bridge! It was a gorgeous little town. We walked all over the place, down the main lane parallel to the river that leads to the bridge. Many little cafes and souvenir stalls and a small busy market lined the lanes. It was not like the Old Towns of Croatia which I complained about – this village was full of life! You could see that the locals were frequenting the streets as much as the tourists were. I loved it. We stopped at a small bakery and I tried some Bosnian food. It was great!

It was a very small town, in just a couple of short hours we had explored every inch of the place, and had lunch too. We went back to the hostel and I made more travel plans before I said farewell to the other New Zealand traveller and I headed off alone to the train station on my way to Sarajevo. At the train station I met my Sarajevo angel – a local guy who helped me with my bags and saved me a seat on the train. I was so grateful to him because he told me a lot about Bosnia and about Sarajevo. I asked him where he was going in Sarajevo, and it turned out that he had to go to the same place as me – which required a tram. We took the tram together and he showed me exactly where to get off. I said goodbye to him and met my couch surfer who was waiting for me at the stop.

Croatia and Montenegro

I have heard so much about Croatia, how beautiful it is, the crystal waters, the enchanting cobbled lanes, the small island towns that beckon so close to the mainland. I knew it was a place that I wanted to visit, but I also knew it was a very touristy place, with a big party culture and full of Australians. I knew ir would be expensive for me, and it would be difficult to find a couchsurfer which would mean I would have to pay for accommodation as well. Financially, culturally, and for interest value I could have just cut Croatia out of my itinerary and gone somewhere else, but I decided it was worth a trip so I figured out a way to make the most of it while also making it financially feasible for me. I took the train from Budapest to Zagreb and then the overnight train from Zagreb to Split. It was a long time to spend on a train, altogether it was more than 12 hours. I made it to Split at 6.30am. I got off the train, crossed the road to the port and boarded the ferry to Dubrovnik. The ferry would take 11 hours to get from Split to Dubrovnik, in the south of the country, passing through some of the coastal islands on the way. For me, it was the best of both worlds – I was travelling all down the coast through beautiful waters and see the islands without having to stop at them and spend a lot of money. After my long journey to get to Split and without having much sleep, I opted for a cabin to stay in during the ferry ride. I was in a 4 berth cabin, but no one else had booked it, so I had it all to myself! It was wonderful. I prepared some sandwiches and food, and I took time to do all the things I had not been able to do for a while. I cleaned out my backpack and repacked it, I painted my toenails and just generally had a very relaxing time! I spent time on deck, enjoying the sunshine and the views.

I finally made it to Dubrovnik. I got off the ferry and called my hostel who kindly had agreed to pick me up for free. I got back to the hostel, put down my things and made some dinner. Then I spent the evening chatting to the other travellers and planning my next day.

In the morning I connected up with an Australian traveller called Nina. She was very similar to me and we got along straight away. We decided to spend the day together. I was a little bit hesitant at first because my budget is so tight that it makes it difficult to travel with others – they simply do not understand just how little I have, and they often take for granted things like taking buses. Luckily, Nina understood me, and she was on a tight budget as well. It was the perfect match. We walked into town, stopping along the way to explore the cliffs and enjoy the beautiful views. I got a real shock when we got to the entrance of the old city walls – it was incredibly crowded. There were tourists everywhere, bustling and jostling to get wherever they wanted to go. I knew it was going to be touristy, but I had not expected it to be this bad, especially since it was not peak season!

We jostled ourselves into the town square and began to explore all the alley ways. It was gorgeous. Every lane you looked down would take your breath away. We followed along the city wall until we came across a little door leading to the rocks and cliff outside of the wall. We went out and discovered a bar that had been set up on the rocks, and you could jump into the water and swim right there. The water was a stunning shade of aquamarine and was very clear. Neither Nina not I had our swim suits, so we just reclined ourselves on the rocks and watched the other swimmers.

Even the smallest of the alleys were lined with shops. People would turn the front room of their house into an art gallery, or a cafe, or a restaurant. Everything was aimed at tourists and was very expensive (by my standards). To be able to afford food for lunch I had to leave the city walls and hunt around for a supermarket – when I couldn't even find a supermarket I settled on a (pricey) minimart. There were only restaurants within the city walls – not even one minimart.

Later that afternoon we walked the city walls. You paid and entrance fee, but it was really worth it. You could see over all the rooftops and out to sea. It was magical. While walking the walls we started staring at the huge mountain that overlooks Dubrovnik. A cable car goes all the way to the lookout at the top, but the cable car was expensive (US$15.80). We began plotting a route to walk up. We were determined to watch the sunset from the top of the mountain. So, after walking all morning and walking the entire perimeter of the city walls, we began to ascend the mountain. It took us two hours to make it to the top. It was hot and steep. My shirt was dripping with sweat, but we had made it, and we hadn't spent a penny!

The view was great. We took time to regain our breath and just looked out on the city and sea before us. We were in time for sunset, however, we realised that because of the steep gradient and uneven gravel of the path, it would be unsafe to climb down in the dark. We quickly collected our things and started back down the mountain. We saw the sunset as we descended, and we were both very pleased that we had left when we did – it would have been extremely difficult in the dark!

Tired but happy we walked the 40 minutes back to the hostel. The hostel was great, it felt like a home – in fact it was just a large apartment in a residential block – the family themselves shared one bedroom and slept in the lounge, the other bedrooms were used for the guests. Lord knows what the neighbours thought of all the guests coming and going all day and night. It was a nice experience for me, it was the first time on the trip that I had had to stay in a hostel, and it felt like couchsurfing.

The next day I had booked a day trip to Montenegro. Montenegro was also a part of Yugoslavia and gained its independence shortly after Croatia, so is still a young nation. I had wanted to visit but could not really spare much time there, so a day trip was perfect for me. I normally do not like to take organised tours, but even I have to admit that in certain circumstances they do make everything much easier. Our tour guide was fantastic – lively and interesting, he entertained us endlessly with stories of his life and history of the area. We arrived in the old town of Kotor in the midst of torrential rain. Everything was flooded, everything was wet. It was not ideal, but you just had to make the most of it. So I braced myself, and explored every inch of the town in my squelching, sopping wet shoes. Kotor was a beautiful old town, little lanes, old buildings, fairytale churches. In fact, one of the churches housed one of the Incorruptible Saints – a phenomenon where a saint would die but their body would be supernaturally preserved. Most of the body was covered, but you could see the hand and the skin was still preserved, despite it being hundreds of years old with no preservation techniques.

Our next stop was Budva, and luckily the rain stopped and the sun came out. Budva is a quaint little town on the seashore, lots of boats and restaurants.

As with the other old towns along the Dalmation coast that I had visited – Dubrovnik and Kotor; Budva was beautiful. Absolutely postcard perfect, but there is something lacking in them, and that is real life. Everything within the Old Town walls felt empty and artificial. You walk along gorgeous charming quaint lanes and alleys.... Lined with bland souvenir shops and boutiques selling sunglasses and jewelry. You pass rows upon rows of restaurants and perhaps one bakery and (if you are lucky) one mini-mart. After a while it feels devoid of life. There is no way of gaining a sense of how the village worked all those years ago, no butcher, no fruit and vegetable stall, no shoe cobbler. Just all these cell-like boutiques, empty of people except the bored shop assistant. I am not sure who their target audience is, or how successful they are selling magnets for €1 a piece, but wouldn't it be great if they used the stores in different ways, that added to the village atmosphere instead of devaluing it.

When I visit a place, I love to get a feel of how the people live there, a sense of the lifestyle, of the atmosphere. These places, although pretty, had nothing to teach me. Nothing to learn. Because there were no people living there! They would just come in to run their souvenir shops and then leave. I enjoyed my time in Dubrovnik, but I was pleased to leave.