Oh, How Things Change

Last post I was sitting at my Turkish hostel professing my strong curiosity and fascination with ancient Byzintine. But soon this nostalgia soon wore off. After 3 days I was ready to leave. I was fatigued. In 1 month I had been to Beijing, Moscow, San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Los Angeles and Istanbul. I was mentally, physically and emotionally drained. I was far from ready to delve back into chaotic Asia, where buses run on their own clocks and painted lines in the streets are merely suggestions. Although I was feeling this way I had in some degrees alerady committed myself to Turkey. I mean, for darn sake's, I flew over all of Europe, with TWO layovers on the continent, to get to Turkey. Yet my heart and mind were not prepared for the challenges which a developing country throws at you on a day to day basis. With all these mixed feelings I decided that I would leave Istanbul and head down the coast to Galipolli, to get an injection of hands on history. The night before I was to leave in the early morning to hop on a bus, my dear friend Jesse instant messaged me. Jess and I go back from the good ol' college days (wow, I'm becoming aged). Jess lives in Amsterdam where he is working on a thesis which upon satisfactory completion he'll be provided with a slip of paper authenticicating that he truly is a master. Anyway, that night Jess let me know that in two days he would be celebrating his birthday and that I should make my way out there. After going over logistics and finding a cheap flight I was on a plane the morning of his birthday.
AMSTERDAM! Now some of you may hear the name and instantly think the red light district, decrimilized drugs and Heiniken. But there is so much more to the city. Boats on canals, bikes on their paths and metro lines, keep an overflow of cars outta the center. The architecture is magnificent. If I knew a damn thing about it I'm sure I could say that it was gothic and neoclassical, or art deco and cubanist, but honestly I don't know what those mean. All I know is that the city looks like a place in a romantic film with a movie script ending.
I spent six wonderful days in the 'Dam. Thanks so much to Jess and his very welcoming girlfriend, Jenneka(I hope I spelled that right). To back track; the night before I left Istanbul I was talking to a German and an Andorrin guy. Both of whom, although seperatly, were on long bicycle trips that had taken them through Europe and were going to take them to India eventually. I started to think since my plans were about to be changed that I needed to come up with some new ones. Suddenly, the lightbulb flicked on. Next thing you know I'm in Amsterdam paying a Dutch guy 35€ for a blue, used road bike with ram horn handle bars and 25€ to the heavily tatooed Portuguese bike shop dude for a couple of bags to hang over the back tire and a routine tune-up . Now I'm 5 days into a bike trip that in it's entirity will cross the Netherlands, Germany and however many kilometers of the Czech Republic it takes to get me to Prague.
Who would've known a week ago. I sure didn't.

Bridging the Bosphorous

So here I am writing in the wee hours of the morning unable to sleep past 5 cause of my jet lag. I woke up and decided to head outta the dorm room and read a bit. At quarter to 6 I started to hear blaring loud speakers. The singing of the Koran, which is a call to prayer for all devout Muslims, comes from speakers atop Mosque minerets jetting towards heaven. 5 times a day the call occurs and you see herds of women in head scarves and men in casual dress(no shorts) heading to the various mosques. It's such a different world.
Today I'm gonna go on one of the boat taxis. I'm not sure where I'm going but I have my hostels business card so I know I'll get back. This city is interesting, beautiful and charming but I think I'm gonna take off tomorrow and head down the coast of the Aegean sea. I wanna get to the beaches and islands before the fall comes on and the temperatures drop. Along the way I'll stop at WWI battlefields (Galipoli), cities (Troy) and modern Muslim quarters where one can be sure the meat roasting is not pork.
In a city where Europe and Asia meld (not collide) I feel as though I'm in the Middle East. Hookas, belly dancers, dark complections and the divine prescence of religion are at every turn. It's a world that I have only seen in Indiana Jones movies and one that I hoped to someday experience. Well here I am Istanbul, at your gateway that is the end and beginning of not only land masses but also my previous notions of muslim life.
Till the next post.
peace and love.
Tye