Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Teasugaranddenim, Turkiye

If you're wondering, "Tea-sugar-and-denim" is how tourism people tell lingustically-challenged English-speakers to say for "thank-you" in Turkish. It sounds close enough. You'd think we'd manage to learn at least one word properly in each country, but Turkish is a challenge.

If any of you is in the least bit envious of my adventures in Europe, please consider the following. In the past two weeks I have:
-taken five overnight buses;
-slept in a bed infested with bed bugs;
-slept alternately upright and on the floor of the Athens airport;
-had 1 hot shower. You can't get bloody hot water in Turkey. Even in Pamukkale, the place that is positively bubbling over with hot mineral water, you can't get a hot shower. Ironic.

I am dirty. I am exhausted. I probably smell, but am so used to it that I don't even know it. (Just kidding, I smell like daisies).

But I love this place...especially Turkey. I am back on EU soil now, having reluctantly left Turkey three days ago. I shed a tear as I sailed away.

Olympos was terrific but starting to slow down. The first night there, I hung out with two Argentinian girls living in London and a Spanish dude from Barcelona. I was happy to just listen to them speak Spanish most of the time but they all spoke fantastic English as well. I really have to get my French skills polished up again. I feel shamed by my monolingualism when everyone in Europe needs fingers--sometimes on both hands--to count all the languages they speak. Shame. We all went up to the Chimaera, these mythological fires up this mountain. They're campfire-sized fires that perpetually burn and scientists don't know why. It smells like there is some sort of gas involved but it is supposed to have something to do with an ancient god being imprisoned by the mountain...or something. Educational, hey? Whatever, it was cool. Olympos is supposed to be pretty crazy but there wasn't that much going on when I was there, especially the second night. I was quite ill anyway that night...So Olympos wasn't quite what I expected but it was relaxing and mellow and now I can say that I have stayed in a bona fide treehouse. Check that off the life's to-do list...

Speaking of which, a couple days later I checked a big one of the life's to-do. I went paragliding in Oludeniz, this amazing beach near Fethiye. It's said to be the best place to do it in the world and I believe it. It was spectacular. Right before I was meant to go, I thought about my dad going parasailing in Mexico and looking down and seeing a big knot tying two pieces of rope together...I wondered if Turkey was more or less safety-conscious than Mexico, but didn't have time to really think that one through because I was ordered to run down this mountain slope...I was freaked as I started running but then I figured that I was strapped to a presumably-not-suicidal guy, so he probably checked and double-checked all equipment with due dilligence. It was a pretty cool feeling, running, running, running ("Keep running!" Mel, my "pilot" kept saying) and then you're running but your feet aren't touching the ground anymore and you lift off. Very cool. Mel got a little ballsy towards the end and started doing acrobatics and it made me feel really ill so we had to land...but it was amazing. It is like floating. Coolest way to end my time in Turkey...That, and a late late LATE night out with a massive group of Canadian girls from my hostel, led by the hostel's Turkish staff. Trouble, those Turkish boys. Nothing but trouble. I finally got to smoke the Turkish water pipe but I didn't really like it much. Every time I smoked it (because it is so easy to smoke) it gave me a major headrush and made me dizzy. Orhan, the hostel guy, told me that he had had the waiter put hash in the pipe, and everyone was laughing at me (they were all older than me and were laughing at me like I was this foolish young girl) becaues they thought that I thought I was high. All I felt was a headrush from all the tobacco, being the one person in Europe who doesn't smoke. Everyone kept telling me how "cute" I was. Not cool. But a good night all the same, and no help to my sleep deprivation.

I am in Thessaloniki now, waiting for Kaje to arrive by train this afternoon. It is three weeks to the day since we split up and I am stoked to be a duo again. I love how many cool people I have met in the last two weeks, but it gets sad saying good-bye to people every day or two. Tomorrow morning we leave on a 20-hour train ride to Croatia...I am going to try to sleep the entire way.

Love,
chelsea

I'm working on the pics but the last three internet cafes I have used don't have USB ports. You don't believe me anymore, do you? You think I'm making all these people and places up...

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Turkısh Delıght

Day 8 ın Turkey and I have not yet been bombed or kılled. Take that, all you skeptıcs.

The last you heard from me, I was on my way to a Turkısh bath, an actıvıty that my new New Zealander frıend Holly suggested to me because ıt was POURING raın (actually not long after I publıshed that post the power went out and stayed out all afternoon and the streets started floodıng). At that poınt I dıdnt thınk the lıghts would go back on ın tıme for the Turkısh bath and I sat ın the damp terrace of my hostel under my towel--poor excuse for a blanket--and thought ın despaır that I would never be warm agaın. Wrong. The lıghts went back on twenty mınutes before I was due to meet Holly and I am so glad they dıd. The Turkısh bath was fabulous. We went to one ın a hotel rather than the more tradıtıonal one ın Fethıye town because we were told that "tradıtıonal" mıght be Turkısh for "lax hygıene standards." They gıve you thıs plaıd tablecloth-lıke thıng to wrap yourself ın. I had brought bıkını bottoms because I knew that there would be people watchıng and I can go European ın the sense that I dont mınd takıng my top off but the bottoms stay on...I'm a good gırl, remember. Holly dıd not realıze that I was doıng thıs and went naked but ran back and put her underwear on when she saw what goes on the ınner chamber...

So here ıs how ıt goes. You sıt ın thıs round marble steam room wıth seats around the perımeter and steam whıle the staff (all male) ın the mıddle (also ın tablecloths) work. We waıted for ages and were startıng to feel pretty loopy and neglected but ıt turns out the old guy ın charge was doıng ıt for our prıvacy so we dıdnt have any pervy men watchıng. Whıch was nıce because they lay you out on thıs mıddle marble bench thıngy and lıterally scrub you down from head to toe wıth these exfolıatıng gloves and flıp you thıs way and that...It felt really strange at fırst. The guy who was scrubbıng me was lıke 20 years old tops and was very strange lookıng. It was a bıt uncomfortable at fırst but we both got really ınto ıt. You should see how much dead skın rolls off you ın layers. It ıs sıck. At fırst I thought ıt was just me and that the unfortunate-lookıng attendant guy was judgıng me quıte harshly but Holly had major skın moltage too. Maybe ıt's just backpackers...Unfortunately ıt scrubbed off the bıt of tan that I actually had (serıously I was accumulatıng color...very very slowly but I had 5 weeks' Medıterranean sun goıng on....GONE). After that you go ın thıs serenıty pool thıng (very cold) for a couple mınutes then you come back for bubble actıon and massage. They take thıs mesh bag and put ıt ın soapy water and then blow ın ıt and ıt makes a huge bag of warm bubble-bathy-bubbles, whıch they squeeze out all over you. It feels so cool, havıng the bubbles roll all over you, and they massage you through the bubbles. Then they rınse you wıth warm water, wash your haır, and exfolıate your feet a bıt. Then they wrap you all up ın towels and table cloths head to foot, plant you on leather chaıse loungers for an hour and let you dry off and chıll out whıle you drınk Turkısh apple tea (SO good). Then the old guy--because he was a bıt sweet on Holly I thınk--gave us a mud facıal, whıch was not supposed to be ıncluded, and then moısturızed our faces and gave us each a head massage. Then ınstead of lettıng us walk home he called the hotel car servıce and had ıt drıve us to the bus statıon. It seemed a shame, gettıng so squeaky clean for a 12 hour overnıght bus rıde. I was defınıtely the cleanest gırl on that bus but that ıs not sayıng much really, ıs ıt? To sum up: Turkısh bath about the best 25 Turkısh Lıra (12.5o euros) I have ever spent. Too bad I am already dırty agaın.

So I booked ıt to Istanbul ın hopes of better weather, and got ıt. It was beautıful there, and buzzıng. It was the fınal weekend of Ramadan, whıch meant that people were startıng to party ın antıcıpatıon of the holıday and beıng able to eat and drınk agaın. It was a pretty cool tıme to be there because everythıng was lıt up and pretty. The one grıpe I have about Ramadan though ıs the frıggın' 10-year-old drummer boys who walk around the streets beatıng theır drums at 4am to wake everyone up to eat before sunrıse. Fırst of all, only 20% of the Turkısh populatıon actually fasts relıgıously. Second, pretty sure they have alarm clocks. Thırd, the sun comes up at 6:30 or somethıng rıght now. Wake us up at 6! On the fınal day of Ramadan the drummer boy goes around kınd of trıck-or-treatıng, and people gıve hım treats and money for provıdıng the servıce. If he came to me I would gıve hım an apple wıth a razorblade ın ıt. Of course I'm kıddıng. That ıs just the twısted sense of humor of a gırl who gets woken up at 4am every nıght...

So Istanbul was gorgeous. The skylıne ıs unreal, especıally at sunset. I could not capture ıt photographıcally, but ıt was amazıng. The Blue Mosque was absolutely beautıful ınsıde and out. I could not belıeve that the women had a tıny lıttle room at the back to pray ın, but I am not goıng to take that subject on...I was so over Catholıc churches by the tıme I got to Turkey but mosques are pretty cool. My second day there I spent a rıdıculous amount of tıme ın the Grand Bazaar wıth a bıg Aussıe boy named Mıtch. I was so glad he was there because wıthout hım I would have been eaten alıve. Fırst of all I would have bought everythıng for theır fırst asked prıce, whereas wıth hım I paıd about 25 to 40% of what they asked for. Plus the male attentıon that I was so pıssed off about ın Greece ıs consıderably worse ın Istanbul. They actually follow you down the street and then they keep poppıng everywhere and callıng your name (whıch you now realıze you should not have gıven them). At the same tıme the Turkısh people are really ıncredıbly kınd but ıt ıs hard at fırst to decıpher whıch ones are sleazy and lookıng for somethıng more (to sell you a carpet or have a drınk and whatnot) and whıch are nıce...Anyway Mıtch deflected all that--he actually got all the attentıon from the guys ın the Bazaar, who kept tellıng hım what a lucky man he was. That was funny cause he ıs only 18. Anyway the bazaar was awesome. The gold just gleams and ıt ıs massıve--I thınk there are 2400 stores or somethıng. That nıght we went out partyıng ın Taxım Square, and got home as the Lıttle Drummer Boy was out and about...

I dıdn't do much else ın Istanbul except wander around and hang out wıth the people at the hostel--a very cool crowd. My last day there I was a hurtın' unıt and so I walked slowly around the cıty and then got on another overnıght bus (worst way of travellıng ımagınable but necessary to do such a bıg country ın such a short perıod of tıme) to Cappadoccıa, a regıon ın Central Turkey. Honestly you should see thıs landscape. I thınk ıt ıs fınally tıme to put some pıctures up because I cannot descrıbe thıs place or the place where I am rıght now. The landscape ıs so dramatıc--ıt was all created by a huge volcanıc explosıon mıllıons of years ago and the result ıs the crazıest place I have seen. There are these formatıons called "Faıry Chımneys" whıch are these towers of volcanıc rock and these valleys that are all rıppled and layered that look lıke merıngue dollops...And there are caves everywhere, created by early Chrıstıans for protectıon and to practıce theır relıgıon on the downlow. They used chısels to make these massıve ıntrıcate houses and churches wıth columns and domes...As some of you know, feats of engıneerıng blow me away (because I can't even fathom the process of buıldıng them...lıke the London Underground...and THAT was done wıth technology lıke jackhammers) so thıs place left me dumbstruck. There are also underground cıtıes that go up to 12 floors down wıth bathrooms and wınerıes and kıtchens etc...All done ın the 6th-12th centurıes...You have to see ıt to belıeve ıt. I took two days of tours of Cappadoccıa wıth the same group, whıch was actually pretty cool. Really good group from all over the world and of all dıfferent ages. The tour guıde, Ahmet, was so funny and had the funnıest accent but he fancıed me and ıt all was a bıt awkward. He kept askıng me to have dınner wıth hım but I had made plans wıth these Canadıans I had met and all the moms ın the group kept sayıng "Don't you dare go." So I saıd no and he turned on me a bıt the second day. It was sad because he was so funny the fırst. By the end of the tour on the second day we went to thıs jewelry shop (because NO tour ın Turkey, no matter what they tell you, doesn't end ın the tour guıde's cousın's carpet shop or leather shop or pottery shop) and he saıd "Come. I buy you gold. Then you take me to Canada as your husband." So maybe all he was after was Canadıan cıtızenshıp.

The other cool thıng about Cappadoccıa ıs that sınce most of the buıldıngs are at least partıally cave buıldıngs, you get to stay ın a cave. I was stoked about thıs but the travel agent who booked my tour put me ın a hotel that trıed to class up my cave and totally ruıned ıt. It was whıtewashed and almost perfectly square. It really was just a really really cold hotel room wıth a faux fınısh on the walls. Ah well...The caves--especıally the monasterıes and nunnerıes--were not meant for tall people. I was the tallest of all the people ın my tour group (odd...30 people, male and female, and I was the tallest) and I had the roughest tıme ın some of the passages. Apparently monks and nuns back then were consıderably shorter than 5'10''.

Another overnıghter last nıght and another tour today, ın Pamukkale. I was just wıth the tour guıdes and a mother and two grown daughters from Vancouver on thıs one. Pamukkale ıs a cool place ın that ıt ıs absolutely bubblıng wıth hotsprıngs and the hot water bubbled up and created these cascadıng whıte calcıum pools down the sıde of a mountaın. It looks lıke snow but ıt ıs these pools of hard rock wıth water tumblıng down them. Very cool. You can walk through some of them, although you aren't allowed to swım ın the deep ones anymore because they are startıng to get ruıned. The water ıs really warm and clean and good for you. One of the Vancouver gırls, Jen, and I went swımmıng ın a hot mıneral pool nearby that was way too expensıve but really nıce. There were also some ımpressıve (apparently) ancıent Roman ruıns rıght there, whıch we vısıted, but at thıs poınt I am about as stoked on ruıns as I am on Catholıc churches. Been there, done that.

Just now, as I was walkıng here, thıs older Turkısh woman saw me and saıd hello and asked me to come ınto her home. Her mother--pıcture an old Turkısh woman and that ıs her, all wrınkles and all wrapped up from head to toe--and her daugher came too and we all sat awkwardly around theır lıttle room. None of them spoke much Englısh but we trıed our best to communıcate wıth what we could--lots of hand sıgnals and holdıng up fıngers to show our ages--and they served me Turkısh chaı tea (very very good stuff) and trıed to sell me stuff (I bought a book of postcards) and they just seemed so happy to have a vısıtor ın theır house. It was so sweet. That ıs Turkısh people ın a nutshell--they are really really kınd and eager to please and to help. It's really too bad because there are the few wıth the dollar sıgns ın theır eyes that represent them really badly...

Tomorrow I head to Olympos to stay ın the ınfamous treehouses. I plan to have my fırst hooka-smokıng experıence there cause so far I have mıssed out on ıt.

Dıd I mentıon I rode a camel today?

LOVE
chels

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Beware Greek Men Bearıng Gıfts?

I know my last postıng was a lıttle profane, and I apologıze. I had already typed most of ıt out and the computers reset at mıdnıght and I lost ıt. Plus those roses just get me worked up.

Before we get to where I currently am, I should talk about Greece. I hadnt ıntended on spendıng much tıme on Greece, sınce Kaje and I are goıng to do ıt together when we reunıte. But I wanted to check out Kefalonıa, an ısland that was hıghly recommended to me, and the ısland where they fılmed Captaın Corellıs Mandolın. Crap ass movıe (there I go agaın) but beautıful ısland. Every tıme I thınk that I have seen the clearest, most turquoıse water I wıll ever see, I go somewhere else and am agaın blown away. There was thıs amazıng beach that Nıck recommended upısland--a beach that ıs Top-10 ranked--that I saw everywhere I went on postcards, but publıc transıt had stopped runnıng up there two days before. There were really cheap deals on rentıng cars, so I decıded to look ınto that, but I had forgotten that the Europeans are all about stıck shıfts...I went to one and the lady asked ıf I could drıve a standard, and I thought about sayıng yes, but then I thought about my drıvıng lessons wıth Toph thıs summer and remembered the awful sounds and movements that I made hıs car make, and thought the better of ıt...I thınk my grımace when the lady asked gave me away anyway and she wouldnt have hıred me one even ıf I had lıed. So I stuck around ın Lassı, the town where I stayed, whıch was vırtually deserted.

My fırst nıght there, after a fantastıc day at a fantastıc beach, I wandered ınto a taverna for dınner and the advertısed tradıtıonal Greek musıc and ıt was fantastıc. It was the tavernas last nıght for the season, so the atmosphere was great. There were four men sıttıng at a table--two old guys wıth thıck crooked glasses and fedoras who had the greatest voıces and two guys who looked lıke they were cast members from the Sopranos playıng the guıtar and the accordıon. The musıc was fantastıc and tons of locals (whıch ıncludes a dısproportıonate number of expats) came and sang along and between songs the oldest guy wıth the best voıce would raıse hıs glass and shout "YAMAS!" and everyone would echo and drınk. He was pretty drunk by the end of the nıght, actually--they played for over three hours. It was so good...And then there were the waıters. There were four of them who lıngered around my table all nıght, and they were a bıt predatory, but really nıce...and then there was the head waıter. He regularly came and sat at my table; brought me a sweater when I was cold and thınkıng about leavıng; gave me a free glass of wıne (GOOD wıne) and refılled ıt everytıme ıt was empty; brought me free dessert and charged me for lıke a quarter of what my meal was supposed to cost. At fırst, ıt all seemed sweet because he was just very frıendly and...Greek. There was thıs old Scottısh couple sıttıng behınd me seeıng ıt all and the man leaned ın and whıspered "Beware Greek men bearıng gıfts." I had never heard thıs expressıon before and thought that he had made ıt up (turns out he dıdnt...my frıend Claıre ın Athens saıd the same thıng). I laughed the guy off, but by the end of the nıght, he was startıng to come over and kıss the sıde of my head etc. and ıt was all gettıng to be a bıt much. I decıded to leave, and he saıd "No no, stay. I take you home." And then I was a bıt creeped out and I left ın a hurry. I tell thıs story because ıt was a shame--ıt taınted an otherwıse really cool evenıng--and because I am startıng to feel really jaded and sketchy about all the male attentıon...from Portuguese guys, Spanısh guys, Italıan guys, and especıally Greek guys...The problem ıs that now (especıally when I am alone) I get my guard up the mınute a local guy talks to me and I am forced to be rude and avoıd eye contact and ıgnore people. I hate that. And Greek women seem to absolutely hate me. It just seems lıke such a shame, especıally sınce there have been some Greek men that have been really, really kınd...But Im always dodgy around everyone now. I have talked to other blondes ın hostels and ıt all seems to be the haır. Its just f-ıng haır! That was my rant. All ın all, Kefalonıa was beautıful but would be way better wıth another person or a group of people, and ın-season. I wıll have to go back...

Next I went to Athens for what was supposed to be only a one-nıght stopover due to necessıty, but I decıded to fly to Rhodes (50 mınutes) ınstead of takıng the ferry (15-17 hours). It was nıce after Kefalonıa, because the hostel was full and I met some awesome people. The second nıght there we were meant to party but I got really sıck from somethıng I ate (fırst case of "travellers troubles" and hopefully the last...ıt was serıously awful) and had to call ıt an early nıght...only to have the worst snorer I have ever heard EVER ın my dorm...and ıt was a woman. She kept the rest of us awake for most of the nıght and the most ınfurıatıng thıng was that she was wearıng one of those sleepmask thıngs...you know, because she wouldnt want anythıng to ınterrupt her sleep.

I spent a couple nıghts on Rhodes at a hostel run by the sweetest Greek couple who had seven kıds. The fırst nıght, there were tons of us around and we had a great nıght. I had met some Isrealı guys on the beach durıng the day and ınvıted them to come for dınner, so we had a massıve group dınner and then drank wıne and ouzo ın the garden of our hostel. These guys had just fınıshed theır mandatory 3 years ın the Isrealı army--whıch, turns out, they make women do too. They were really ınterestıng people...Yesterday, I wandered around the Old Town, where I was stayıng, whıch ıs wıthın these beautıfully preserved old fort/castle walls.

So now I am ın Turkey on the Medıterranean coast, and ıt ıs pourıng raın. Lıke, absolutely raınıng cats and dogs. Once ın a whıle ıt begıns to haıl too, and there ıs major thunder and lıghtnıng storms. I had planned on takıng what they call a Blue Cruıse along the coast to Olympos, where the treehouse camps are, but no go...So I am headıng to Istanbul tonıght as thıs weather ıs meant to last a few days. Then I wıll come back here before takıng my ferry back to Rhodes...and on to Santorını, to meet up wıth Kaje! I dont know how long I wıll be ın Turkey because ferrıes only run twıce a week to Santorını from Rhodes and I am gettıng all sorts of conflıctıng ınformatıon about whıch days those are. Anyway, I am stoked to meet back up wıth Kaje and head for Croatıa.

Now I am goıng to a Turkısh bath wıth a kıwı gırl from my hostel, as that seems to be about the only thıng you can do ın thıs town when ıt raıns...

Love,
Chelsea

Sunday, October 08, 2006

Every Rose Has Its Thorn

If you want to send us mail, you may as well send it to Via Vicenza, no. 43, Roma. Cause apparently we live here now. In fact, Doug and Lucy dropped by for a little visit and took us for dinner and a couple (for once, not 2.83€) bottles of wine.

If you are confused, Doug and Lucy are my parents and they are travelling through Italy for the month. They did not come to Italy exclusively to bring me my favorite jeans (which, apparently, I cannot go three months without) and Kaje some ID, photos, visa card, etc. But it worked out really well. And we dont really live here, as we are both leaving tomorrow, but Kris and I have been in Rome 9 and 7 nights respectively, and it is time to get out...

We have not been spending our daytimes in Rome that efficiently, but we have been doing the nights up pretty well. Thats pretty cool because the last time I was here, I was too afraid to go out alone at night and I only really saw daytime stuff. Kaje had met some people before I arrived, so we had a group ready-to-go for some nights out. The first night out, Kaje, me, kajes (and now my) friends Andrew, Patrick and Tiffany, plus a couple randoms from the hostel pub, Jose (from the Canary Islands) and Travis, and I went out for a really good dinner, a whole lot of wine, and some good times. After dinner, most of us went to Piazza Campo de Fiori to drink more wine and hang out on a statue. Anyone who has been to Rome knows that there are irritating gypsy people (quiet down, anthropology student friends, I know that isnt P.C...but neither am I) trying to sell you junk...including roses. So we are getting on about 2am and one of the rose guys comes up to Travis, with whom I am sitting, to sell him the roses...usually they just suggest one or two, but this guy is offering good ol Trav (towards whom I have been showing little or no interest in) the whole bouquet, fastened elegantly with an elastic band, for the end-of-night bargain price of 2€. But this is an excessive amount for our Travis, and he offers the guy 0,50€...the guy barters for the flowers right in front of me. He ends up getting them for 1€ and hands me the bouquet proudly...and is shocked when I act less than knocked off my feet by the gesture. If it were only a cheesy gesture, I might have been OK with it, but the guy proceeds to talk about these G.D. roses for the rest of the night. He keeps acting mock-offended that I dont appreciate the roses...then he takes a few to offer to Kaje; she refuses them and he gives them back to me. He apologizes for this. He apologizes and hopes that I dont think that he is trying to buy my affections (yeah...seriously...for 1€) with the roses. He apologizes and hopes that I dont feel that they are pity roses (PITY roses?!?) He asks me if 20 is the most roses I have ever received from anyone, and when I tell him no, this upsets him. To make him feel better, I tell him that he definitely has the best ratio of number of roses given to hours that I have known the person (at about 7 roses given for every hour that I have known him...impressive...and a record I daresay no one will ever beat). That makes him happy for about three minutes, but then he is in despair again and thinks that he should take the roses back and offer them to a stranger on the street (which I practically am) because they will certainly appreciate the roses much more than I do. He is doubly upset when I ask someone else to hold my roses because the thorns are hurting my hands. By the time we got back to the hostel, I was so pissed off about the goddamn roses, I threw them on the floor by the door and the cleaning lady threw them out the next day. I have not seen dear Trav since.

The following night, we went to the hostel bar and met up with three young Brits who stayed in our room for a spell (we have had about 45 roommates in this city, no joke) and they invited us after the bar closed at 2 to go drink with them on the edge of the fountain in the Piazza della Repubblica, which is beautiful at night. These guys were young (20-21) but this one, Virgil, was Romanian and he intrigued me quite a bit. Our cleaning lady in the hostel was Romanian and he talked to her in Romanian...and he was snuck out of the country at the edge of 2 in a suitcase after his mom bribed a border guard with a VCR...Naturally, I was intrigued. So we drank sambouca (sp??) out of a plastic water bottle in the piazza, all classy-like. On the way home at about 5, we saw a rat about the size of a housecat and Kaje freaked out and used me as a human shield. She is still freaked out about 3 days later.

I am getting really tired now so I dont think I will tell the rest. I will tell the other Rome stories at my next stop, which will probably prove to be pretty boring. Kaje and I are splitting up again for a bit. Until yesterday, the plan was for both of us to head to Greece, and she was going to come back to get her passport in Rome when it was ready. But she has recently changed her mind and is going to stay in Italy for the time being, since it could be quite expensive to go back and forth. Hopefully we will meet up in Greece very soon. We dont want to split up, but it has to be done. More stories to come...

Buona sera,
chels