Montreal's senior monthly since 1986

Picking the right trip for a single senior

Ever since I lost my husband I've traveled alone and thoroughly enjoyed my trips. Sadly, my recent riverboat cruise on the Danube did not match my expectations.

At the Captain's 'Welcome Cocktail Party' I knew I had chosen the wrong cruise. I was the only elderly female and nobody came to the rescue as I stood in a corner with a glass in my hand. This would never have happened to a man! I felt like an immigrant: sink or swim! The Danube isn't exactly swimmer-friendly! Nor is it blue. This most serenaded and venerated river, considered by some as a metaphor for life, is smelly, has a sickly greenish colour, and drags pounds of algae. Pollution has caught up with it.

The dining room tables were elegantly set for 2, 4, 6 or 8 but the maitre d' was nowhere to be seen. I fled to my cabin and opened the windows wide. ­ The splashing sounds of the river lolled me to sleep.

The riverboat was brand new but its architect had not discovered a sensible location for the only fuse box on my deck. It was housed in my closet. I was disturbed several times by a hunk of an electrician trying to fix somebody else's blown fuse just as I'd emerged from the bathtub wrapped in my towel. He told me arrogantly that he had not designed the ship. It occurred to me later that he could have been Jack the Ripper and nobody would have missed me!

The 20-day trip started in my favorite place, Prague. It was so crowded that I could barely maneuver my way across the famous Charles Bridge. Massive crowds blocked the view to the Moldova River and the hurdy-gurdy blaring 'New York, New York' was irritating. I spent hours in Prague's famous Jewish quarter. The ancient Jewish cemetery with about 12,000 tombstones, clustered into a small space, is so unique, moving and peaceful. In Salzburg 'The Sound of Music' had taken over from Mozart!

The second half of the cruise took us through the Balkans and the Iron Gate to the Black Sea, which was blue! This is rough territory of awe-inspiring beauty. Its complicated history is soaked in blood and full of rage, superstition, corruption and war. Some actually believe that Dracula, cruelest ruler of the 15th century, is still haunting the area. At his tomb on the Romanian island Monastery at Snagov I wondered whether it was empty. Did Dracula ever exist or is he just a frightening figment of the imagination, good for Hollywood?

By that time two couples had invited me to dine with them. We didn't share a lot in common but had some good laughs and this, together with a visit to a trendy beauty parlour in Vienna, helped my state of mind.

I blame myself for not doing enough research before signing on. My recommendation to anyone who travels alone is to find out beforehand what to expect, especially if you're a senior and single.

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Cotton Castle gives rise to spa-city in Southeast Turkey

Barefoot in the travertine pools

There is a certain ease and carelessness that I feel when traveling with a tour group as opposed to traveling solo. When traveling solo I do the research. I know exactly where I’m going and why. I memorize a map of my destination along with all the attractions. Surprises are minimal. As part of a tour groupmy survival instincts take a back seat and I coast along knowing my tour guide will be taking us to all the hot spots.We were on our way to a place called Pamukkale – Cotton Castle in Turkish. Located in the Denizli Province in southeast Turkey, it is a major tourist attraction not to be missed.

Our little tour bus rolled into town late at night. Mustafa, the hotel owner and chef, welcomed us joyously into his hotel and did not waste any time putting food on the table. He insisted we fuel up on food and sleep for our big hike in the morning. A hike? Hmmm… I wondered what could possibly be so grueling that I was stuffing my face to do it.

The next morning I dressed for the hike, careful to respect the unofficial Muslim modesty rule that we were politely asked to obey throughout our Turkish trek. I wore jeans, a tank top and a little sweater to cover my shoulders. Mustafa, our tour guide, informed us that most of the way up the travertines we must be barefoot. This was starting to sound a little strange. But from what I had experienced so far, strange was no stranger in Turkey.

We started out from our hotel, walked a couple of streets, turned the corner and were suddenly in what looked like a winter wonderland, in the middle of the southwest Turkish landscape, in October. It seemed as though the entire side of the hill was covered in glistening white snow.

As we approached the foot of the hill, Mustafa explained that this anomaly was white limestone from calcium deposits. We were standing in an area that was struck several times by earthquakes, which gave rise to hot springs. The water flows down the mountain and deposits its calcium while cooling, creating this very unique-looking blinding white frozen waterfall. We slowly made our way up the 250-metre hillside to the plateau, barefoot and in disbelief. The water flowed between my toes as I carefully wandered up the hill. I stopped occasionally to bask in the scene. The prayer call of the mosque echoed while I watched the many tourists march up the hill in their speedos and string bikinis. I suspected the unofficial modesty rule did not apply in Pamukkale.The bottoms of my jeans were getting wet. It was hot. I suddenly wished I had worn my bikini so that I could jump into one of the pools of hot spring water on the way up. The youngest of the group, and always the slowest, I was last to make it to the top.

The ancient city of Hierapolis awaited us atop the cotton castle we had climbed. Founded in the 2nd century BCE by Eumenes II, King of Pergamum (an ancient Greek city in modern-day Turkey) the spa-city prospered with the help of the healing powers of the water. Tourists can still swim in the 36°C ancient sacred pool – the Antique Pool. Sounds impressive but the Antique Pool is saturated with tourists, kiosks and overpriced cafes. Much more impressive was walking through the white-stoned, pillar-lined streets of the ancient city, imagining its beauty and glory centuries ago. There is a brilliant Roman theatre located behind the Antique Pool, which seats 12,000 spectators. It occurred to me that the cities of today are not much different than the ancient cities. Nonetheless, the ancient cities had a certain magnificence and grandeur that our modern-day ones are much lacking. From one perspective we’ve come so far as a civilization, but from another we haven’t even budged.

The sunset from the summit was like nothing I had ever seen. Beautiful reds and yellows glow from the white limestone spring-water pools. Looking past the pools and the cotton castle into the vast deserted land ahead is breathtaking.

I slowly made my way back down through the warm waterfall, enjoying every moment of this natural phenomenon while at the same time trying my very best not to slip. One wrong step and I could have slid all the way down the castle. It was dark when I reached the bottom, and the rough limestone made my feet as smooth as butter.

The next morning we all piled back into out little tour bus and chugged up the twisty cliff-hugging side roads along the shores of southwest Turkey to rendezvous with our next dazzling and bizarre surprise of a destination.

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Expensive, enchanting Trieste: first stop on our spontaneous summer adventure

Trieste canal

Our first stop on this summer's adventure was Trieste, Italy at the Northeast top of the Adriatic Sea. Trieste has all the best qualities of Italian cities — accessible on foot, terrific tomatoes, marvelous mozzarella, and fabulous fish that tastes like it just came out of the sea. Then there's the gelate — multi-flavored Italian ice-cream in its various forms — yogurt, sorbet and rich cream — at every corner, which became a serious threat to my diet.

Our hotel, the 2-star Alabarda, was friendly but offered only 30 minutes of free wifi in the room. This seemed rather stingy when we later compared them to other hotels in Albania, Macedonia, and Greece, places we would visit later in the month.

This is the first time we took a laptop to Europe. It fit nicely into our knapsack on wheels and we rarely took it out of the hotel rooms. It was nice to not have to find the local Internet cafe, usually crowded with smelly teens. We had bought a $10 adaptor at Trudeau airport, which simply attaches to the plug and then goes into the wall. A helpful rep at Bureau en Gros told me that more expensive converters are unnecessary for laptops, which already have the ability to run on 110 or 220 volts.

We arrived on a Saturday and spent most of the day catching up on sleep and walking the streets that run around the Grand Canal. The first afternoon, I walked across the street to the Supermercado and purchased some succulent peaches, nectarines, tomatoes, and cheese, as well as a perfect size orange melon resembling a cantaloup. The next morning we enjoyed a wonderful cafe latte at one of the spots along the canal. Fancy coffees are the only thing cheaper than Montreal, apart from the wine and gelate.

The music in the bars and restaurants is awful — loud and aggressive. We asked one waitress to change it and she happily obliged.

We had three restaurant meals in Trieste (eating the second meal from the supermarket deli counters) and the average bill was 30 euro ($50) including wine and sparkling water. The service was always friendly and accommodating.

The hotel gives out a special menu for a restaurant that is two streets away: Risorante Pizzeria O-Scugnizzo. For 20 euro you can have Primi (First Course) pasta, Secondi (Second Course) fish or meat in tiny portions; Contorni (salad or grilled veggies), and Bevanda (Beverage) — either mineral water, ¼ liter wine or beer. We weren't that hungry or willing to splurge yet again so we asked if we could share. We could and did! Irwin had the spaghetti with fresh mussels and clams (both in the shell) and I had the secondi of grilled squid. Restaurant food in Trieste and in Rome, as we were later to discover, is well prepared and fresh but beyond our budget.

On the second day, we visited the port and decided not to take the cruise going to the Greek Islands for one week. We weren't ready to be packed in like the grilled sardines I had for lunch, listening to loudspeakers and unable to stay in a place longer than a few hours. At least that's the impression we had of cruises before we took one two weeks later in Greece.

Instead we boarded a chug-a-lug to Muggia, a half an hour away (6 euro return) and toured a lovely little port town, sampled more gelate and more delicious coffees. You get the picture!

What a beautiful little town. We would have inquired about the apartments for sale at 140,000 Euro if it hadn't been a lazy Sunday.

On the third day in the evening, we boarded a ferry headed for Durres, Albania for a return visit to this budget land of friendly people and hair raising rides along mountain cliffs. Next issue Albania — still the best kept secret in Europe.

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South of the Border September 2008

Vermont

Burlington Book Festival

Friday, September 12 to Sunday, September 14, Burlington's annual celebration of the written word features readings, signings, panels, workshops and presentations by nationally renowned authors at downtown venues. Info: 802-865-7211

Field days and festivals

Starting Thursday, September 11, old fashioned agricultural fair. Cambridge. Info: 800-889-5555

Taste of Deerfield Valley

Saturday, September 13 at 10 am, this event is under the tent at the Clock Tower at Mt Snow Resort. 15 restaurants participate. Info: 802-365-7650

Wine and food

Starting Saturday, September 13, the Flynn Center for the Performing Arts has a gourmet dinner prepared by top Vermont chefs including tasting premium. Shelburne Farms Coast Barn features VermontÕs food products, wines from local and international wineries, live music, an auction and wine lottery. Info: 802-652-4500

Classic car show

Thursday, September 18 to Sunday, September 21, the annual British Invasion Classic Car Show takes place in Stowe, Vermont. This three day festival features more than 800 classic cars. Info: 802-253-5320

Fairbanks festival weekend

Saturday, September 20, celebrate rural creativity with artisans and craftspeople who demonstrate knowledge and skills that shaped the landscape of the rural northeast St Johnsbury. Info: 802-748-2372

Stowe Octoberfest celebration

Friday, September 26, this two day Bavarian Blast celebrates Vermont's splendid Autumn season, with Oompah bands, German cuisine and a silent auction. Route 100, off I-89 exit 10, 10 miles north of Waterbury. Info: 802-253-8506

Harvest market

Starting Saturday, September 27, Vermont's fall family harvest fair features the Underhill and Jericho communities. Parade, live entertainment, flea market, Vermont artisans. Info: 802-899-1722

Demonstrations, displays, decorating

Starting Saturday, September 27, celebrate the annual Vermont fine furniture and woodworking festival in Woodstock. With live music and food. Info: 802-747-7900 or vermontwoodfestival.org

Fall foliage festival

Saturday, September 27, the East Burke Vermont Autumn Foliage Festival features crafts, food, games and demonstrations. Info: 802-467-1266

Plattsburgh

Farmer's market days

Thursday, September 11 from 1 pm - 4 pm, a farmer's market takes place to promote local food produced in the Adirondack Region. Info: wildcenter.org

Mountains antique show

Saturday, September 20, antique lovers and collectors will enjoy featured items of rustic furniture, hunting & fishing boats, and Native American materials at the Byron Park. Info: indian-lake.com

Adirondack antiques weekend

Saturday, September 20 and Sunday, September 21 from 10 am – 5 pm, a preview of premier antique and vintage furnishings managed by Rod Lich, Inc at the Adirondack Museum. Info: adkmuseum.org

Adirondack harvest festival

Saturday, October 4 and Sunday, October 5, the 4th Annual Harvest Festival. Info: adkmuseum.org

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400th birthday fest fills August with music

The International Festival of Military Bands comes to Quebec City from August 14 to 24 (photo: David Cannon)

Quebec City’s 400th birthday brings partygoers a full slate of free performances this month. Over $151 million has gone into public infrastructure, notably a new park along the riverside and a new performance site called Espace 400, to be the epicentre of many anniversary activities. For 2008 the city expects a 5% increase over the five million tourists who visit in a typical year.

Events and exhibitions are clustered around the city’s Old Port, now a Unesco World Heritage Site, and the Plains of Abraham, just outside its gates. Céline Dion’s free show there Friday, August 22 is expected to draw a crowd matching or exceeding the estimated 200,000 that flooded the Plains for Paul McCartney July 20.

Odds favour a record turnout for the Charlemagne-born diva, whose homeland credentials remain impeccable — she once refused a Félix Award for best anglophone artist — and whose setlist is expected to trend heavily francophone for the occasion. Fresh off her 5-year Vegas spectacle, Dion and her Taking Chances tour will detour to the capital midway through a 6-night stint here at the Bell Centre. For the birthday show she’ll be joined by Claude Dubois, Zachary Richard, Éric Lapointe, Garou, Nanette Workman, Marc Dupré, Dan Bigras, Mes Aïeux, La Famille Dion and Jean-Pierre Ferland. Those with limited mobility will want to arrive very early in the day and stake out a place behind the Musée national des beaux-arts, and not in front of the  main stage site, where chairs won’t be allowed and where hundreds sprinted for choice spots when the gates opened to the McCartney show.

Stages in and around Quebec City’s Old Port will feature a dizzying lineup of acts from folk to hip hop, klezmer, rock, cabaret and marching bands. Bassin Louise’s Grand Place will host Quebec folk singer Belzébuth, hip-hop artist Wapikoni Mobile, and klezmer group Socalled Sunday, August 17, and the city’s own Dynamite Cabaret August 18 and 25. Other performers will include France’s Mell, Belgium’s Mix-Music, and Ontario rockers Great Lake Swimmers. For brass fans, The International Festival Of Military Bands runs August 14 to 24 at Place George V, with 1200 musicians from 13 countries. (More event details below.)

Family events will take place at Bassin Louise’s Ephemeral Gardens Stage and Petit Place in the Old Port.  For harmony fans, highlights will include Groupe vocal Privilège Sunday, August 17, Harmonie du Collège Letendre Thursday, August 21, Chœur basque Argileak Friday, August 22, and La Clé des Saisons Sunday, August 24. The venue presents Argentinian tango from Association Tango-Quebec Saturday, August 23, Latin and Caribbean rhythms from Salsa Attitude Sunday, August 24, and oriental dance from Baladi Quebec Saturday, August 30. Cultural fare of note includes West African percussionists Oké Djembé Thursday, August 28, and bagpiping troupe Cornemuse Quebec Friday, August 29.

Autumn will hold further spectacles wrapping up with a closing extravaganza Sunday, October 19 at the Colisée, featuring a Cirque du Soleil performance created for the event. Free tickets will be distributed by lottery, and the show will be projected on a giant outdoor screen.

Travel and accommodation packages by air, bus, and train are widely available and a worthy option during the summer’s peak demand time. Tourist info and referrals are available at quebecregion.com. Festival organizers recommend getting around the city by public transit, which is more than just a good idea — when the streets are swarming during the big events, it may be the only chance you get to sit down.

Tourist info: 866-585-2008 or monquebec2008.ca

Complete listings:

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A less touristy road through southeast Turkey

Our Turkish joyride was over. The 14 unsuspecting travelers in our tour group were driving into the dusty cloud of the southeast.

We had started in Istanbul, then made our way down through the southwest coast with its beautiful beaches and British vacation towns, then on through the Fairy Chimneys of Cappadocia, and now, into the dust. The eight-hour bus ride took us through an endless desert with occasional communist-style buildings. Dull would be an understatement.

We were deposited in a town called Kahta. It seemed desolate, scruffy, and did I mention – dusty? Unimpressed, I asked Mustafa, our tour guide, “Why are we here?”

“To climb Mount Nemrut,” he replied. Obviously I hadn’t done my homework. We went as a group for dinner to the only restaurant open past 10 pm. The few local Turkish men hanging out in the restaurant looked at us as if we were from Mars.

The next morning we gathered into the bus that took us 40 km up to Mount Nemrut. We were told to bring raincoats and warm clothing because the peak can get quite chilly. It was a beautiful 27˚C outside, and we were in the middle of the desert. I couldn’t imagine chilly weather anywhere in the vicinity so I skimped a bit on the warm clothing. I looked out the window of our bus as we drove by dusty little houses with goats and chickens running freely and realized I was a long long way from California.

Toppled heads on Mount Nemrut

We were dropped off about a mile or so from the peak. I was starting to feel the chill. There was a narrow rocky path that led up to the top of the mountain. As we started our little trek up it started to drizzle. At 26 I was the youngest in our group. I was also the slowest, with the fear of slipping down those rocks as the drizzle slowly turned into rain, then hail. My sneakers were soaking through, my jeans were getting drenched, and the three layers I wore underneath my raincoat were somehow getting soaked as well. I stopped for a moment to take in the beautiful vastness of the desert mountains as the hail bounced off my head. I chugged along.

“Don’t fall Molly! Don’t fall!” was all I could think. The 2,150-meter mountain has a  tomb on the summit dating to the 1st century BCE. In 62 BCE King Antiochus I built his tomb accompanied by 8-9 foot tall statues. One of the statues is meant to be the king, and the others are Greek, Armenian and Persian gods, which the king thought of as his relatives. The statues were once seated, but earthquakes have toppled the heads. The 2-meter-high heads lay scattered around the site. They have become a symbol of Turkey and are eastern Turkey’s main attraction. I was the last to leave the summit. I stood atop by myself to soak in the greatness of this site with huge heads looking out into mountains below. Shivering, and standing my ground against the winds, I made my way down the slippery path. I should have brought warmer clothes.

A view of Urfa

We dried off and hopped back into the bus. A few hours later we arrived in Urfa. Located close to the Syrian border, it is known as the birthplace of Abraham (according to Muslim tradition). After another bland meal of lentil soup and pita bread, we ventured through the traffic-filled noisy, dusty, crowded, Middle Eastern streets. People stared at us as we walked. “I don’t like this place,” I said to Mustafa as we were trying to make our way through the crowds. “They are just curious,” he replied. “Tourists are rare around here.”

I stared at the people who were staring at our group and me. The looks in their eyes were not like those of the men in Istanbul – hungry for a date with a western girl. The looks were of wonder and curiosity at the rare spectacle of tourists in their town. We made our way through the old bazaar, a chaotic yet organized smorgasbord of merchants selling everything from produce and teas to silks, pots and carpets. This was no tourist trap like the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. This was where the locals hustled and bustled. The women scurried by, draped in their black chadors, and the men in the traditional Turkish baggy pants (MC Hammer style). Mustafa warned us girls not to stay out past sunset since women walking around at that time are considered prostitutes.

Pool of the Sacred Fish

A young boy of about 10 took an interest in our tour group and had convinced Mustafa to show and explain to us the story of the Pool of the Sacred Fish. Abraham destroyed the pagan gods, and it angered the Assyrian King Nimrod. As punishment, King Nimrod ordered Abraham to be thrown into a blazing fire with hot coals. As Abraham was in midair God turned the fire into water and the coals into fish. The pool is now filled with sacred carp fish that thrash frantically around when given food by tourists.

We walked along the courtyard near the pool to the Hazreti Ibrahim Halilullah (the prophet Abraham’s birthplace). We took off our shoes, covered our heads and walked through a small tunnel to the cave. The Muslim women praying in the cave resembled the Jewish women praying at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. Passionate.

We were being followed and stared at continuously. They were almost like the paparazzi in Los Angeles, though without the cameras. I started to enjoy all this attention. A couple of men approached me and two other women in our group just for a picture. A young girl of about 16 walked right up to me, smiled and reached out her hand to greet me. She gave me an enthusiastic “Hello!” and her eyes were wide with excitement. I looked over to Mustafa with confusion. “She just wants to practice her English with you,” he said. A couple of teenaged boys approached me while I was emailing my mother in an Internet café just to tell me I was beautiful.

This is why I travel. It’s not to lounge on the beautiful beaches, or party in foreign clubs (well, maybe to some small extent it is), but mostly it’s to take the road less traveled, to push my limits, to challenge my views and emotions, to enter one way and leave another. Practicing English with the young wide-eyed girl in Urfa was the highlight of my Turkish experience.

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Vermont events August 2008

Friday, August 15 to Monday, August 18, the Stowe Summer Music Festival presents free classical indoor concerts in the Symphony Auditorium at Stowe High School. Info: 802-253-9554 or stowemusicfestival.org

Sunday, August 17 to Monday, August 18, the 11th annual Vermont State Zucchini Festival presents a fun-filled family event to carve, catapult, dress, eat, fly and race zucchinis at Veteran’s Memorial Park on Route 103 in Ludlow. Info: 802-228-5830

Saturday, August 16 from 4 pm – 5 pm, the Opera Theatre of Weston presents “Scenes from Hansel & Gretel” at the Old Stone Church in Chester. $15. Info: 802-824-3821 or operatheatreofweston.com

Saturday, August 16 at 7 pm, Michael Kennedy entertains park visitors with traditional music and storytelling. Irish, English, Scottish, and American music will be performed on the English concertina, guitar and musical “singing” saw. Groton Nature Center, Groton. Info: vtstateparks.com

Monday, August 18, see more than 30 exhibits of artists and craftsmen with continuous painting demonstrations at the Andover Town Hall fields. Info: 802-875-4348

Monday, August 25 to Wednesday, September 3, Vermont’s largest agricultural and entertainment fair offers 10 days of family fun in Essex Junction. Info: 802-878-5545 or cvfair.com

Sunday, August 24 to Monday, August 25, buy or sell used musical gear at the Bethany Church in Montpelier. Proceeds to provide music scholarships. Info: 802-229-0295 or sharethemusicvt.org

Tuesday, August 19, see tractors dating from the 1930s to the 1950s and learn more from the folks who restored them, with traditional farm activities, games, ice cream making, and more. Until Tuesday, September 23, see the 21st annual juried exhibition of colourful and exquisitely designed quilts made in Windsor County. Billings Farm & Museum, Woodstock. Info: 802-457-2355 or billingsfarm.org

Tuesday, August 26 to Saturday, September 6, an exclusive art ensemble of original works will be on display and on sale in beautiful historical Grafton at the Hunter Gallery of Fine Art & The Old Tavern. Info: 802-843-1440 or old-tavern.com

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Syros and Athens

From Mykonos, which we found touristy, arrogant, and over-priced, we sailed to what we both now call our favourite island of the cruise -- Syros. It's a small, old-fashioned kind of place. As we walked straight off the ship and onto the port, we noticed many older Greeks sitting all along the homey cafes having coffee or sharing food they had ordered. We immediately felt at home. We bumped into a book shop with an English stand and bought another of Ian McEwen, who we both like, as we have almost run out of novels on this trip. We found a cafe playing soft Greek music and eventually bought a CD of the female singer, whose name I will have to tell you next blog.

We visited the Apollan Theatre, a small replica La Scala in Milan, a cosy site that represents the town, which is on a hill. The streets are so scenic as is the harbour, that I had to click away every few minutes. For lunch we found a women's collective self-serve, run by 28 women from the district. The food definitely tasted like it came straight from their kitchens. I had eggplant stuffed with feta. They do a lot of feta stuffing here.

We took a local bus to the nearest beach, which was clean and reasonably quiet and had a wonderful and relaxing time cooling off. We had Greek coffees, rather like Turkish coffee, played game or two of chess overlooking the beach area and made our way back in a crowded bus to the town, where we reluctantly boarded the ship for our last night on board.

We are now in Athens in an area called Plaka, which has pedestrian streets filled with market-like shops and pricey cafes. We found, with the help of the young woman who manages this internet spot, a reasonably priced Greek restaurant filled with locals. How to describe it? A cross between Shwartz's Deli on St. Laurent, though 10 times the size, and a typical Montreal Greek eatery. There was little for vegetarians. Irwin had an excellent order of Kebab and shared my spicy cheese, hot green grilled chili peppers,and tomato and cucumber salad. The name of the place is Thanassis. It seems to go on for blocks and is very popular. Right next to it is an equally popular but slightly higher priced Bairaktaris, also recommended by our internet manager. We had lunch there today and they had more to offer a vegetarian. We shared a Greek salad, zucchini croquettes, and sweet red peppers, grilled and stuffed with feta. I have to try those when I get home, but will they taste as good?

It's hot, very hot and hard to get away from it. July is definitely not the time to visit Greece. And now, I've left the most important for the end. As soon as our ship docked in Piraeus, we dropped off our bags at our hotel, which we had reserved the day before our cruise departed, the Phidias (50 euro a night for a lovely and spacious double) and made our way, with the same friendly taxi driver to the Acropolis. We wanted to get there before 9 because we had heard it would be teeming with tourists. And it was! Alas, they don't take VISA and we had to walk all around until we found a taxi driver who would change our dollars. US dollars are quite unpopular here. Finally we managed to buy tickets and were soon climbing (and I mean climbing) the steps leading to the Parthenon. It was my third visit. I was 18 the first time, 22, the second time and now, well it's certainly changed. The first time, in 1968, I remember touching those famed columns. Now, you can hardly get close enough to take pictures without heads in your way. It was Irwin's first time and for him it was "dramatic."

We are spending our day in Plaka since it's Sunday and little else is open. It's a lovely place to relax if you don't mind spending over $5-6 for a latte and the same for ice cream. It seems that since the euro has become part of the Greek scene, we Canadians are at a bit of a disadvantage, financially. But all in all, Greece is a place we are growing to love, and we will be back!

We've already decided to book a cruise next summer with Easy Cruise Life and see four or five more islands. What a comfortable, low-key and interesting way to travel!

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Panos and Mykonos

Yesterday we docked in Panos at 2 pm and were told we had to take a "tender" boat to shore as it was windy. Windy my foot! We noticed the more luxurious cruises were right near the dock. The tender filled to capacity and more. It was not in our estimation the safest mode of transportation, especially on the way back to the ship at 10 pm. There were few if any lifejackets, with children and more people sitting on the roof of the boat, but when we complained about the safety, we were told by the cruise director, Anita, that these boats weren't under "their umbrella." Of course they are! What would happen if someone fell off? There would be no way I could last in that water more than 2 minutes!

Panos was lovely. It was small enough to walk around. The houses and streets are blue and white — lots of paint on these islands! We found an Internet cafe but couldn't connect our laptop so we used theirs for free. Just had to purchase expensive drinks! I didn't stop taking pictures of the narrow streets with their colourful doors and balconies. Every twist and turn brought a new photo op. Since we had our lunch on board (we have one meal a day, lunch or dinner plus breakfast included on our half-board plan), we started looking for a restaurant around 7 pm and found one right on the beach, from where we could watch the sun set in style.

We asked for a mixed platter of our Greek favorites, including grilled peppers stuffed with feta and tarmosalata. I was the one stuffed by the end of it, and then I made the mistake of ordering "little fishies" — grilled sardines — and could finish only half. Oh well! The thin kittens had a great time delicately eating whole fish! During dinner we met a single male high school history teacher from Calgary, very charming. Forgot to mention we also had a nice swim at a public beach with bamboo umbrellas. A bit dirty but okay for Irwin!

Today we are in Mykonos! What a difference! Made pricey and crowded by the "rich people who live here," we've spent the day wandering the picturesque streets looking for Internet cafes such as this one in which we can cool off. The heat is getting to me. We Canadians aren't used to the sun being so strong, even now at 5 pm! In these cafes we use their laptops (ours doesn't seem to work on these two islands) and pay big prices for small non-alcoholic drinks. But it all works out in the end.

Tomorrow is our last island: Syros. Then on Saturday, it's back to Athens. Don't be surprised, dear readers, if you see one of the photos I've been taking on the cover of our August issue! We must confess that we didn't take the 47 euro tour to Delos today to see the home of Apollo! We're just not up to the heat and having to do anything in a group.

And now we're off to the city beach for a short swim before finding our shuttle bus to the new port and climbing aboard our tender to take us back to our ship.

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Kos

We are now in Kos, a Greek Island only two hours from Bodrum, Turkey, where we spent yesterday. Bodrum was touristy but it was a joy to be back in Turkey, which we visited four years ago. Prices have definitely shot up but we enjoy the people and the ambiance. There's a huge market there, a small Grand Bazaar (which exists in Istanbul). We had a fish lunch by the sea and strolled along the busy streets looking for a "bathing suit" since I'd unwittingly left mine in the cabin, thinking I'd spend the entire day touring around. It turns out that many of the restaurants and bars offer free swims, complete with deck and lounge cars and umbrellas, in exchange for a pricey drink or coffee at $5. We had to shop for a change of clothes and buy a bathing suit for Irwin, but in the end we managed to climb into the cool and refreshing water and have a short swim.

Our ship left at 8 am this morning and less than two hours later, we were strolling along the port of Kos, an island that suffered an earthquake in 1913. There is still a castle here that looks something like the one in Bodrum which we are not ashamed to say we missed. We are into "hanging" not touring more castles. The temperature yesterday was over 40 degrees and today it reached 38. So sunblock is essential. Still the heat takes it toll. We are not young anymore and there's only so much walking in the heat we can stand. Irwin is now falling asleep in his car at this lovely wireless cafe so we must make our way back to the shop and look forward to dinner, which tonight is "sole." We hope it has more soul than the past meals on our half-board plan, which have been underwhelming. If we have any energy we will return after dinner and check out the action.

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Kalymnos Island

We arrived in Piraeus very late after a comfortable train ride and made our way by taxi to our hotel, sharing the ride with a young geologist who lives near the city. The taxi driver tried to charge us for two trips and after a long argument, he left angry with a nice tip for one trip.

Our room was underwhelming, especially for 89 euro, a measly breakfast included. The next morning we walked around the picturesque yacht bay and thought we would try to find a more reasonably-priced hotel for our return July 26 (from our cruise). Happily we found and booked a nicer hotel, better situated, for 55 euro, which will be our base for visiting Athens and the Acropolis when we return.

Our hotel manager told us we could walk to the port. Unfortunately it took an hour and by the time we arrived, I was a wreck! Irwin was fine. We discovered that our cabin had a window, a substantial upgrade from our booking of an inside cabin. It’s actually meant for four people so it’s quite spacious.

We have since learned that we probably paid more than we should have because we didn’t need the meals and we booked at the last minute, probably paying a hidden agency fee. Other cruisers told us that they got good deals by reserving early online. Still we feel content. And we’ll know for next time.

Today we docked at Kalymnos Island, which is approximately 100 kilometers square. The island is so beautiful that I cried when I disembarked and saw the terraced pastel houses built on the mountainside. Future paintings?

We had a mediocre lunch, quite pricey, in a portside resto, but we got good advice from the British retiree who served us and suggested taking a bus to the other side of the island to a beach town called Misouri. The water was clean, calm and cool — a pleasure to swim in. And though there were many hundreds of Sunday swimmers, it didn’t feel crowded in the water. The town is simply exquisite. How nice it would be to spend six months there writing a novel. Getting the bus back was an adventure. We waited over an hour and finally it came and was packed all the way back to Pothia, the main town where the ships dock.

Tomorrow — Bodrum, Turkey. One of the nicest surprises is that our cruise ship leaves in the wee hours so we lose no time on land — exploring and enjoying the scene.

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Thessaloniki

A walking bridge connecting to the new city of Skopja to the Old Town

We spent our last night in Skopje trying to get some sleep so we could get up at 3:15 am to be picked up in our mini bus to Thessaloniki. Our driver arrived on time and picked up a very interesting man and a student who had just finished her university exams. He was a guide who supplements his income importing used cars from Germany to support his son in Santa Monica. He told us about the conflict between Macedonia and Greece, which is not only jealous of the name used by “non-Greeks” but also, according to him, wary of future territorial demands on the fertile northern part of Greece, from which thousands of Macedonians were expelled, their property confiscated, ostensibly because they were part of the Communist rebellion, put down with the help of the British after World War II.

We arrived in Thessaloniki at 6 am our time, 7 am theirs and looked for coffee while waiting for the travel agencies along the port to open. At 8:50, one did. Early bird Christina Jeirani of Overseas Travel greeted us with a sleepy smile and began to process our desires, travelwise. We’ve decided that we’d loosen the purse strings and try our first cruise, yes, you heard it here first, cruise!

Christina found a 7-day island hop including Bodrum, Turkey and Mykonos for 500 euro with half board. We breathed a sigh of relief at the price and accepted. Not so easy! Cruises don’t leave from here! We have to go to Athens, Piraeus (the port). So after finding our hotel, booked by Overseas, and called Mandrino (65 euro), we took a bus three or four stops to the railway station to be informed that the only seats available were on the express leaving the next day at 7 pm for 48 euro each! Okay, we said, rather hefty but what choice did we have! We then went back to the tourist office and said “Get us a hotel near Piraeus please,” which Christina did for a hefty 89 euro! But better safe than sorry in Athens at 11:30 pm, right?

We then asked her for an interesting restaurant since we hadn’t eaten for 24 hours! She, after giggling with her friends, sent us to Oysoy Meaaoopon in Greek, or Ouzo Medathron. Everyone knows it and the reason is that the food is exquisite. It’s in a fun courtyard full of hungry, happy Greeks, downing mussels in every imaginable way, sardines – not the canned variety, anchovies – the real thing, and various meats and truly marvelous Greek, yes Greek salad. They top it all off with ice cream and strawberry or chocolate syrup on a bed of Baklava strings sprinkled with honey and Espresso for — nothing! Well, says Irwin, the ice cream and Espresso are complimentary! What a joyful experience especially if you get shpritzed with the mist connected to a fan.

This morning we waited for the Jewish museum to open and when it did we spent an hour and a half marveling at the growth of this wonderful community of up to 70,000 Jews, who first settled here as Roman slaves, augmented later by Sephardic Jews fleeing the Spanish Inquisition and other points across Europe. It was a thriving vibrant community with over 20 newspapers in Spanish and Ladino, full of scholarship, schools, over 30 synagogues, hospitals, senior homes, libraries, and orphanages until the Nazis brutally and systematically destroyed all but a few, transporting them to Auschwitz after destroying the cemetery and humiliating and tormenting the men of the community. We saw the deportation order telling the people there would be food waiting for them and to pack all their jewellery and valuables. The museum has a small library and bookstore, and many publications about the community now and then are given out.

In three hours we will be leaving on our train for Athens. Tomorrow at 2 pm we will board our ship. This is one town we would like to see more of. We’ll be back!

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Crossing the Macedonian border

We took a taxi from Pogradeci to the Macedonian border (5 km), said goodbye to Albania and walked the 100 meters to the border police. We showed our passports and they welcomed us, telling us in sign language to walk ahead, either 30 or 300 meters (I’m not sure which) and that there would be taxis to the town called Ohrid, pronounced Okrid, on the other side of the lake that Albania and Macedonia share. We walked and walked and walked. No sidewalks. No cars. No buses. Just a two lane highway. I told Irwin I wanted to go back. He said “I don’t go back. It’s uphill.” I was worried. Here we were in the middle of nowhere with our two knapsacks on wheels, our money, and our baby laptop. After about 30 minutes, a red car came up behind us. We put out our arms. Were we actually going to hitchhike?

The gentleman stopped and we asked for a ride to Ohrid, not knowing how far it was. He invited us in, threw our bags in the back and started to drive, and drive and drive. He spoke no English but we managed to convey that we were Canadians. He called his wife on his cell and she told us in perfect English that he would gladly drive us to the bus station to get the bus for Skopja, the capital city.

Ohrid is a touristy, more sophisticated version of Pogradeci. We stopped at a large bus station, where he insisted on purchasing the tickets in Denar. We returned the amount in euro later. Then he motioned for us to get back in the car. What did he mean by this, we asked, but by this time he felt like a long-lost cousin so we climbed in knowing our bus would leave from the station in half an hour. He drove faster now, obviously heading for somewhere. Suddenly, after 10 minutes he stopped abruptly and turned in to a ground floor apartment with a small porch. He was taking us home — and we would meet the bus across the road on its way to Skopja.

His wife Fiona was lovely and so were her two children, Victoria and Michael. Victoria and her cousin were playing with their new kitten. We posed them for pictures, and sampled some of Victoria’s homemade blueberry juice and coffee. Then we hugged the entire family, especially our saviour and his mother, who had so graciously welcomed us to Macedonia, and made our way to the bus with Fiona.

The bus was hot and stuffy but we finished our books and four hours later were walking away from the bus station looking for a hotel. Finally we found one for 35 euro, 5 extra for necessary air conditioning, across from the Greek Embassy, about a 15 minute walk to the great square in the centre of this somewhat eclectic city of 700,000. Our room is tiny but we feel safe across from the embassy manned by a burly policeman at all times.

This morning we walked in all directions looking for the elusive post office, hidden in a circular building that looked like the inside of a flower. Inside after much negotiation we decided to only send home the heavy books for the special rate of 5 euro rather than the books and t-shirts for 40 euro! We headed out towards a medieval fortress across the bridge and inside we found the Old City. Its narrow stone streets, somewhat resembling the Old City of Jerusalem, including the fortress, beckoned to our yearnings for small old-fashioned boutiques and cafes, and lo and behold, we stumbled upon the Honourary Consulate for the State of Israel. We rang and were immediately let in and introduced to the assistant to the Honourary Consul, his son, who greeted us warmly and served us coffee. We talked about the history of Macedonian Jewry. He told us 7,148 or 98% were deported during the Holocaust, all to Treblinka. Only 200 are left here in Skopja, some having emigrated to Israel.

We were invited to visit the foundations of the new Holocaust Memorial Center of the Jews from Macedonia. Inside the new building that is the Foundation for the Center, we met Victoria who runs the day-to-day operations. Victoria spent three years in Israel with her family ten years ago but they returned, fearing “the wars.” We spoke Hebrew and she then showed us a few restaurants below her building that we could choose for lunch. Alas she wasn’t allowed to accompany us but we will be meeting her this evening with her boyfriend.

Our lunch of kebab, yogurt soup, Greek salad and roasted peppers, and Macedonia Riesling was a treat, but we are not ready for much more than a nap right now. Tomorrow we visit the Jewish community centre one minute from our hotel.

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Pogradeci

As promised, our congenial host at the Parlimenti Hotel drove us in his slightly worn Mercedes-Benz (almost everybody drives a Mercedes in Albania) to the lot where mini-buses were waiting for passengers to drive to Pogradeci. The cost for the almost four-hour trip was $14 each. We started on a reasonably good road but suddenly the driver made a U-turn and drove back to where we started and ended up on a rocky unpaved track through some construction area that seemed to go on forever. We never found out what the detour was for.

Once we got back on a paved road, the trip was uneventful, if hot, until we climbed up several mountain ranges — and for the queasy, it was harrowing, since the road was narrow and the cliffs steep and potentially deadly. We stopped more than halfway (after 2 hours) at a “café” where the owner tried to stiff us 10 Euro for two pieces of cheese and a simple salad. We eventually settled on 500 lek ($6) which according to us included a hefty tip.

We thought we would stay at the Lunhidas Hotel, a “tourist centre” with a swimming pool. We noticed the lake was crystal clear, but it was too far from the centre of town, and we always stay in the centre of town. Our driver dropped us off at the first place on the hotel strip bordering the lake (Lake Orhid). We like the looks of the hotel, named Enkelana, and especially the price ($34 CDN with breakfast) for a modern room with a balcony overlooking the lake, TV and a bathroom. The bed however could use a few less metal rods.

We strolled along the boardwalk and decided to rent a paddleboat ($2.60 CDN) for an hour. The odour of excrement was too strong to go swimming near the shore. We paddled out toward the middle of the lake, where the water looked clearer, and Irwin jumped in. One of four sturdy lads in a neighbouring paddle boat, hearing us conversing in English, begged to interrupt. A conversation ensued and continued after the two lads boosted Irwin onto the boat. Irwin’s current physical condition, being what it is, (chess, jazz, wine, pizza) made it impossible to do it on his own.

After inviting the lads for coffee on the boardwalk, the English-speaking one told us a bit about Albanian youth and his own difficult circumstances. He is the son of poor farmers from this area and is completing a compulsory year in the army, which he hates. He won’t go to Afghanistan or Iraq because the $10,000 for six months service is insufficient compensation for having to kill and risk being killed. He complained that the senior officers won’t even talk to him and the class system in the army prevents him from getting recognition and training. He told us that the university system here is corrupt and that one can buy grades for money. He has no hope of going to university because of lack of funds, even though he is bright and articulate. The boys are embarrassed by the condition of the lake and told us that when the dictator Enver Hoxha lived here in the summers, polluters risked severe punishment. Our lad would like to get out of Albania but he has no marketable skills.

We stayed at our hotel for dinner where we were the only couple on the second floor overlooking the lake and it was charming. We chatted for a few minutes with the daughter of the waitress, a graduate in psychology who can’t find a job in her field because “Albanians don’t recognize the need for psychologists yet.”

Irwin ordered steak with garnishes and we shared three or four salads, a fish soup, a glass of Macedonian wine, and Fanta — the bill coming to $23. We strolled on the main street, bought a small watermelon and ate it in our hotel room, keeping the balcony door open all night for the breeze.

The music continued well into the night, taken over sometime in the early morning by the howling of dogs, followed by the call of the Muezzin, summoning the faithful to morning prayer.

So far today (Sunday), we've sat outside here on the terrace — with a “borrowed” Internet password (top secret) that the waiters will not divulge but will gladly punch in — reading and soaking up the breeze by the lake, and gone out to buy cookies for two withered ladies sitting on the street across from the hotel and a stash of croissants for the gypsy children who beg at our table intermittently.

Tomorrow we plan to take a minibus to the Macedonian side of the lake and make our way from there to Skopje.

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In love with Tirana

On our way to Albania

Today we arrived in Tirana, Albania. Our ferry from Trieste was no cruise, but it was a pleasant 24 hour trip.

We met a German Jewish journalist-photographer off to an assignment in Kosovo. His editor had asked him to do a travel book on Kosovo! We also met a young couple from Vienna traveling to Albania to see her family. Luckily, her brother was picking them up and we were offered a ride to Tirana from Dures, where the ferries dock. A bus ride would have taken 2 hours or so, for what is a 30 minute trip.

Our new friend's brother Gazi insisted on taking us out for coffee and found us an affordable and centrally-located hotel for 35 Euro. Our room is huge compared to the one in Italy and down the hall we have a bathroom bigger than our own at home.

Reflective Muggia

We're still hoping we have Wifi here. The owner’s son assured us we did before he left for parts unknown. His mom doesn’t seem to know a thing about it. If not, there are Internet cafes every three minutes.

Gazi recommended a fish restaurant that we tried for a 4 pm lunch. It was fabulous! We had two whole fish, grilled, two Greek salads and one mixed salad. With fries and toast, and complimentary watermelon for dessert, the bill came to about $30. We finished the afternoon with a stroll around our area, which includes a food market and many many gold and silver shops.

A gorgeous twin view along the canal

We’re in love with Tirana already. We haven’t heard English yet except from the waiters and shopkeepers. Everyone is helpful and polite, except perhaps the boys who greeted us in our hotel and asked for money twice, not giving us a receipt until we insisted. At that point we got a handwritten note with the name and address of the hotel. The mother of course asked if we had paid when we returned. We hope the son hasn’t run off with our money to one of the casinos we saw not far from here.

If we do have Wifi, we’re bedding down in this town for a while!

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First post from Trieste

Our first stop on this summer’s adventure is Trieste, Italy at the Northeast point of the Adriatic Sea. Trieste has all the best qualities of Italian cities — accessible on foot, the best tomatoes in the world, marvelous mozzarella, fabulous fish and seafood that tastes like it came out of the sea yesterday. Then there’s the gelate (multi-flavoured Italian ice cream in its various forms — yogurt, sorbet and rich cream) at every corner.

Our hotel, Alabarda, two star, is friendly and has 30 minutes of free Wifi from the room. This is the first time we've taken a laptop. It’s nice to not have to find the local Internet café, which is usually smelly and crowded with teens. We bought a $10 adaptor, which simply attaches to the plug, which then goes into the wall. I found out from a nice man at Bureau en Gros that more expensive converters are unnecessary for laptops, which already have the ability to run on 110 or 220 volts.

We arrived on a Saturday and spent most of the day catching up on sleep and walking the streets that run around the Grand Canal. We’ve had three meals so far and the average bill is about 30 Euro for two including one entrée, ¼ liter of wine and sparkling water. The service is always friendly and accommodating.

The first afternoon, I walked across the street to the Supermercado and purchased some succulent peaches, nectarines, tomatoes, and cheese, as well as a perfectly-sized orange melon resembling a cantaloupe but tasting like the real thing. This morning we enjoyed a wonderful café latte at one of the spots on the canal. Fancy coffees are the only thing cheaper than in Montreal, apart from the wine and the gelate.

The music in the bars and restaurants is awful — loud and aggressive. We asked the waitress tonight to change it and she happily obliged.

The hotel gives out a special menu for this restaurant, two streets away (Ristorante Pizzeria O-Scugnizzo). For 20 Euro you get Primi (first course) which is pasta, Secondi (second course) which is fish, Contorni (salad or grilled veggies), and Bevanda (beverage) — either mineral water or ¼ liter of wine or beer. We weren’t that hungry or willing to splurge yet again so we asked if we could share. We could and did! Irwin had the spaghetti with fresh mussels and clams (in the shell too) and I had the Secondi of grilled squid. After three meals here, one could say the food is exquisitely prepared and fresh. So fresh! The olive oil is better than anything I’ve tasted in Montreal.

Today we visited the port and decided not to take the cruise going to the Greek Islands for one week. Why be packed in like the grilled sardines I had for lunch listening to loudspeakers and unable to stay in a place longer than a few hours? For a minute I wanted to try it just once. But Irwin quickly nixed the idea and instead we boarded a chug-a-lug boat to Muggia, a half-hour away (6 Euro return) and toured a lovely little port town, ate more gelate and had more delicious coffees. You get the picture!

What a beautiful little town! We would have inquired about the apartments for sale at 140,000 Euro if it hadn’t been a Sunday.

Now that we’re back in Italy, we remember why it’s one of our favorite countries in the world!

Tomorrow we want to look into ferries going to Croatia. Our intention this time is not to miss Sarajevo. If we can, we’ll take a ferry to Zadar on the coast of Croatia, and then move on to Split and maybe the island of Hvar before making our way to Sarajevo by bus or train! We like not knowing exactly where we’re going. The cruise wouldn’t have been our cup of coffee!

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Vermont events July 2008

Saturday, July 12 from 10 am – 4 pm, Vermont’s Children’s Aid Society’s Annual Antiques & Unique Festival features 120 antique vendors, pottery, paintings, jewelry, collectibles, toys and quilts. Feast on bake sale goodies and enjoy Trinity music. Info: 802-655-0006

Sunday, July 13 to Saturday, July 19, Vermont’s Village Green hosts its 30th annual Festival-on-the-Green. Marta Gomez and group perform original compositions based on Latin American rhythms. Street dance closes the Festival on Saturday. Info: 802-462-3555

Thursday, July 17 to Sunday, July 20, the 7th Killington Wine Festival features wine tasting, educational seminars, live music and a gala wine dinner. Info: 800-337-1928

Friday, July 18 to Saturday, July 19, the Vermont Brewers Festival in Burlington’s scenic Waterfront Park is perfect for enjoying Lake Champlain and the Adirondack Mountains. Info: 802-244-6828

Friday, July 18 at 8 pm, Cracker Barrel Fiddlers Contest offers an evening of music, food and family fun. Foot stompin’ toe tappin’ and knee slappin’ tunes await. $6. Info: 802-866-5580

Friday, July 18 to Saturday, July 19, the Stowe Street Arts Festival in Waterbury features Phill ‘n’ the Blanks Friday evening from 7 – 10 pm after the Congregational Church’s Chicken Barbeque. Info: 802-244-8300

Saturday, July 19 to Sunday, July 20, participate in a Weekend Ballroom Dance Workshop with dancing and lessons with world-renowned dance instructor Ian Folker. Champlain Club, 20 Crowley, Burlington. Info: 802-598-6757

Friday, July 11 to Sunday, July 13, see hundreds of top breed dogs at the Vermont Cluster Dog Show at Champlain Valley Fairgounds, 105 Pearl, Essex Junction. Info: 902-878-5545 or cvexpo.org

Sunday, July 20 from 10 am – 5 pm Billings Farm & Museum presents its 25th Anniversary Celebration for free ice cream and cookies. Performances by the Vermont Fiddle Orchestra, Vermont Governor Jim Douglas and Robert Resnik & Friends. Route 12 North at River Road, Woodstock. Info: 802-457-2355

Tuesday, July 22 at 7 pm, the 10th Old West Church Folk Concert features Peggy Seeger, Deb Flanders and Pete Sutherland. The Calais Concerts, organized by Deb Flanders, highlight the traditional music of New England in honour of Deb’s great-aunt Helen Hartness Flanders, one of the pioneers of folk music history in the US. Info: 802-863-5966

Tuesday, July 29 to Saturday, August 9 at 8 pm with a Saturday matinee at 2 pm, Pump Boys and Dinettes - the Musical celebrates the simple pleasures and good folks at the Double Cupp Diner. Saint Michael’s Playhouse, 1 Winooski Park, Colchester. Info: 802-654-2281

Saturday, August 23 to Monday, September 1, the Champlain Valley Fair presents entertainment, agricultural competitions, arts and crafts, horse and oxen pulling, shopping, Reihoffer Carnival and Midway, Coca-Cola Grandstand concerts, motorsports, music, Vermont Talent and food. Champlain Valley Fairgounds, 105 Pearl, Essex Junction.

  • Monday, July 21 at 8 pm, Elton John plays the Coca-Cola Grandstand. Four ticket limit.
  • Saturday, August 23 at 8 pm, Vermont Public Radio presents Garrison Keillor and A Prairie Home Companion.
  • Sunday, August 24 at 7 pm, 95 Triple X presents Daughtry as part of the Bud Light Concert Series.
  • Thursday, August 28 at 7 pm, US Marine Corps band performs.
  • Friday, August 29, 106.7 WIZN presents Ted Nugent.
Info: 802-878-5545 or cvexpo.org
Tickets: 802-86-FLYNN or flynntix.org

Saturday, July 26 NAS Green Mountain Strongman Challenge benefits the American Lung Association of New England. Tickets on sale through the American Lung Association of Vermont. $5 person, $15 family of four, 8 and under free. Champlain Valley Fairgounds, 105 Pearl, Essex Junction. Info: 802-876-6500 or lungvt.org

Friday, August 15 to Saturday, August 16, Vermont Dressage Days Horse Show benefits Women Helping Battered Women and the Vermont Humane Federation. Champlain Valley Fair­gounds, 105 Pearl, Essex Junction. Info: 802-878-5545 or vtddatcve.com

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My Vegas: 30 years of memories and Elton

Elton John singing Candle in the Wind at this 200th concert in Vegas

Most people I know who haven’t been to Vegas have little desire to experience it. They have no connection to the place. They see it as crass and glitzy.

But for me, Vegas means a lot. It holds 30 years of memories — of family, love and loss.

My first time was with the father of my daughters just before we married in 1975. I was smitten — with Vegas.

We never left the Tropicana: the food was free or close to it, the orange juice freshly squeezed, the lox abundant and succulent. It was my first encounter with the starry glitter and tinkle of the slots. Not that I’m a gambler, but I’ve always liked the nickel machines.

My mother lived in Vegas for ten years. She moved there to be closer to Paul Anka. Once at a show we saw together, he asked her to dance, recognizing her from her many fan letters. She still has his autographed pictures on her walls: “To Eva, Love Paul.”

On the Strip: Flamingo Hotel bathers

On my visits during those years, Mom and I would sit for hours in the piano bar at one of the Strip’s cheaper hotels and watch Angelo, the singer-piano man, belt out our requests — hers being Nat King Cole and Paul, and mine, Elton John.

My sister Melanie moved to Vegas to live with my mother. Melanie had a tough life and in Vegas she felt like a somebody. She loved the Strip, the slots, the lights, the free drinks, the buffets, the music — and most of all, Neil Diamond.

Melanie died in Vegas in December 2000. She was 48. Her funeral was in a room at her favorite hotel, the famous Golden Nugget.

I remember walking along the Strip the day of the funeral, having come from Melanie’s apartment carrying our grandmother Molly’s wine glasses wrapped in our grandmother Laura’s embroidered tablecloth.

Melanie had no children, just a dog. I remember taking her aging Pekinese to have him put to sleep. She would have hated me for that, but I just couldn’t take him on.

On this trip, I see Melanie everywhere.

I’ve come to Vegas to visit my daughters and accompany my husband on business. I am staying at the Hilton Star Trek, just off the Strip. Gone are the days when you could stay at the Aladdin or the Hilton Flamingo for $17 a night. These rooms cost $160. Alas, the laid back Aladdin was blown up to make room for a glitzier hotel, which is the fate of most Vegas hotels.

The slots have changed. Now you slide your bills in and if you win, the coins don’t come pouring out. I miss that sound. Now it’s a fake jingling and you get a slip you can exchange in another machine. The drinks at the slots are still free and are they ever strong! They still do everything to get you to gamble.

There are no bookstores in sight. And I’m the only one this morning at the Hilton Buffet with a laptop. People are looking at me like I’m weird.

The buffets are still good and plentiful, but prices are up. Today’s brunch is $14. It’s a better deal than the restaurants; the fresh fruit grown in California, just two hours away, is divine.

They now have penny slots in every hotel but the thing is you have to bet at least 25 cents if you’re going to win more than a few pennies. I still love to watch the high rollers bet $25,000 a shot. But I don’t dare try my hand at Black Jack anymore.

Now for my jackpot! Amy, Molly and I took in the Elton John show at Caesars. Tickets start at $100 and peak at $250. We opted for $115 in the first row of the second balcony. We all agreed the concert was the best we had ever seen. I cried every second song, seeing 40 years of my life and Elton’s career pass before me in a flash, watching the big screen images of the sixties, reveling in the memories and the present. Holding my daughters’ hands and swaying back and forth, we waved the black and red boas we had been given in the lobby to celebrate Elton’s 200th concert in Vegas.

What a show! The stage was an ever-evolving magical place with massive inflated breasts, red roses, a lipstick and other overtly playful phallic parts. I was thrown back to the days when sex was less serious and more innocent. I cried during Candle in the Wind, Rocket Man, and most of all, when he sang his finale — Your Song, in honour of his two bodyguards who had just tied the knot in California! I laughed when he lovingly referred to Celine Dion as “that skinny bitch” who never has to worry about her weight as he does.

Amy, Mom, and Molly in our boas after the concert, taken from Amy's iPhone

He looked just lovely to me in his longish appliquéd jacket and the glasses, more muted than I remember – the whole Elton aging gracefully into a less raucous show-off, his virtuoso piano playing more beautiful than ever, his voice strong and robust, having lost none of its sexy, smooth tone. My girls and I knew all the words, sometimes singing along. This is the sign of a star — to last more than two generations.

Molly and I walked over to the Riviera in the heat and were blessed with a stunning rendition of Your Song by a house crooner, the talented and friendly Mark.

To cap off our stay, we saw Menopause — the Musical, a zany slapstick look at “the change” through the eyes of four icons of “our age” — the professional woman, the fading soap star, the Earth Mother, and the Iowa housewife. The songs are takeoffs of tunes from the 60s and 70s, with themes ranging from the ever-present hot flashes to ever-present need for food to the ever-present need for sex from hubby. The best performance of the show was a very risqué dance rendition of My Guy sung to a huge red vibrator. (I just can’t bring myself to use the D-word).

All of us who have gone through the change were invited onstage to do an aging can-can and receive buttons: I’ve changed.

I don’t have much change left as I leave this town. If you go to Vegas, I recommend staying on the Strip. You can take the monorail (at $11 a day) to get around but you’ll still have some walking to do. It’s much more expensive, more crowded, less accessible, and you get a lot less “bang for your buck.”

Vegas has changed — a lot since 1975! Little is free in this town. It’s not the easygoing place I fell in love with 30 years ago. Yet, all in all it was a slice. Thanks Elton for playing my songs!

So, everyone, get off your high horses and live a little. You won’t find high culture here, but it’s a breath of not-so-fresh air in the city that never sleeps.

Elton John plays the Champlain Valley Fair in Vermont July 21.

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House & garden tour for the Piggery

Thursday, July 17, the Piggery Theatre holds its biggest fundraiser of the year. From 9:30 am - 4:30 pm, wander through six homes and two gardens in and around North Hatley and Ste-Catherine-de-Hatley, chosen for their architecture and prime views. $50.

Info: 819-842-2431 or piggery.com

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Molly's Istanbul sparks reader's memories and reflections

I was deeply touched by Molly Newborn’s June travel article Istanbul – the magic, the madness & the mosques. I was in Istanbul in 1958, exactly 50 years ago, my head full of Pierre Loti, taking a summer course in Turkish for foreign students at Istanbul University. It was the most beautiful city I had seen, at least its skyline of domes and minarets.

By the way Bosporus is a strait between two seas, not a river (Mr. Richler, please correct me if I am wrong) although it may look like a river if you don’t taste its salt water.

Ms. Newborn’s first impressions were bitter. She was hassled by peddlers offering to sell her a carpet and by cavaliers hoping to date her. They could tell she was a tourist. Maybe the way she was dressed in jeans or her typical tourist behaviour, looking around with curious starry eyes the way no local would. Judging by her photo we would expect her to draw admiring glances not only in Turkey, though we can’t expect her to accept an invitation for a date, especially a crudely formulated one from a stranger. She goes back to her hotel room to cry for the rest of the day. She is obviously a sensitive young woman. It may be her weakness as a journalist, but it is her strength as a writer.

Well, carpet sellers or other peddlers did not run after me. I was a student, and students, even foreign students, were not expected to have much money.

Ms. Newborn is rescued by Ahmet, a former Turkish classmate from UCLA, who gives her a guided tour of the city. She is “stunned” by the grandeur of the Hagia Sophia. I remember how excited I was, as a Christian, seeing what was perhaps the most beautiful Christian church ever built. Mehmet the Conqueror had transformed the church into a mosque, adding the first of the four minarets. The secularist President Ataturk turned it into a museum.

A house of worship has a soul that a mere museum cannot have. Something Ms. Newborn missed. She shows us a photo of the Blue Mosque, illuminated at night, displaying the inscription “DONYA AHIRETIN TARLASIDIR” (“The world is the ploughed field for after-life”). Yet, one of the wonders of the Hagia Sophia is its Christian mosaics which had been plastered over during the four centuries when the building was serving as a mosque. The subject matter may not have been objectionable to the Muslims who venerate the Prophet Jesus and his Mother but a mosque may not contain any pictorial representations, viewed as idolatry. To most if not all Turks, it would have been tantamount to a symbolic surrender of the city to the Greeks, a nightmare, which had almost happened at the end of World War I. Ataturk’s victory over the Greeks and their British and French allies saved the city for Turkey and for Islam.

When visiting the Blue Mosque, Ms. Newborn feels “uncomfortable” at being asked to cover her head. Come on, young lady! Haven’t you ever wrapped your head with a scarf to protect yourself from Canadian wind? I don’t remember whether Western women tourists were asked to cover their heads when visiting mosques in Turkey in my time. I remember that we all had to take our shoes off.

Ms. Newborn is not much impressed by the Islamic call to prayer, appreciated by so many non-Muslims, including Byron who had fought against the Turks in the Greek War of Independence:

“’Twas musical, yet sadly sweet...” (The Siege of Corinth)

On her own Ms. Newborn takes the train across the Galata Bridge to the Dolmabahge Palace. A train across the Galata Bridge? I am sure the “train” here is a misprint for tram, or is it an innovation since my time?

After her guided tour of the city Ms. Newborn spends the night partying with Ahmet and his friends in the bars of Taxim (her spelling). That is quite in character with the society. Unlike most Muslims (Arabs, Iranians, Pakistanis) the Turks drink openly, without inhibition, even taking pride in their drinking prowess. Except that those were strictly men-only sessions. It was not considered dignified for Turkish ladies to drink raki. I wonder if there were Turkish girls partying that night?

Please note the spelling: Taksim. There is no X in Turkish. It is an Arabic loanword meaning “division” or “partition.” Taksim Square is the centre of Pera or Beyogiu, the formerly “Frankish” suburb of Istanbul with more bars than mosques.

In the end Ms. Newborn forgets her initial disappointment and is won over by the city: “Istanbul is magical. There is no other place that compares.” I haven’t been back to Istanbul for 50 years.

Ms. Newborn has captured the spirit of the place and brought back precious memories of my youth.

Thank you, Molly!

Çok tesekkür ederim!

– Jan Witold Weryho, NDG


Dear Ms. Weryho,

You are so very welcome! I was delighted to learn about your experience in Istanbul 50 years ago. It seems as though things haven’t changed too much.

We were asked to take off our shoes and cover our heads upon entering all mosques. Taking off my shoes made me as uneasy as covering my head. There were water fountains outside all mosques where the men washed their feet (and face and arms?) before entering. I found a crowd of about 30 women jammed into the ladies’ restroom with three sinks outside the Blue Mosque washing their feet. As a foreigner it is not my place to complain, especially since entering the stunningly beautiful mosque negated any uneasy feelings.

Ahmet presented me with my first glass of Raki during our lunch under the Galata Bridge. The first of many. There certainly was no shortage of alcohol for the ladies in Taksim! There were girls in Ahmet’s circle of friends who joined us in the festivities, and they could have easily passed as Americans. This took me by surprise since I was advised to “cover up” while traveling around Turkey, but when it came to Istanbul the girls definitely weren’t shy to be sexy. This is a far cry from Urfa, which I will be writing about in a future issue.

I did come to enjoy the Islamic call to prayer. It was a bit of a jolt when I heard it for the first time without  warning. It was a constant reminder wherever I went, saying “Listen! You’re in Turkey!” And I certainly appreciated it when it woke me up to catch my flight.

Thanks again for your reply! I am so happy we were able to share our stories with one another.

– Molly, Los Angeles

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The enchanted world of Cappadocia

If you have ever dreamt of traveling to the moon and then realized that the 384,403 km, eight million dollar space shuttle ticket might be a bit out of budget, might I recommend a trip to Cappadocia? Located in the center of Turkey – the middle Anatolian region spanning five cities – you will find this lunar-like landscape.

After a grueling overnight bus from Antalya, my tour group of 14 was deposited at what at first looked like a boring little Turkish town. I rubbed my eyes as we walked down the empty street at 5 am and realized this was no ordinary place. It looked like some of the houses were built right into mysterious and unearthly looking rocks. Look a little closer and this bizarre scene stretches for miles and miles.

Volcanic eruptions, erosion and winds from millions of years ago somehow created the wondrous rock formations of Cappadocia. The Fairy Chimneys – the most common and absurd looking structures – are natural cone formations made from the volcanic eruptions smoothed over time by wind and rain (good thing this article comes with pictures because otherwise you would be lost).

Houses carved into the stone

The Hittites were the first known civilization to inhabit the volcanic rock structures of Cappadocia about 3800 years ago, followed by the Persians and the Romans. They discovered the volcanic rock was easily carved and shaped yet sturdy enough to hold permanent structures. Whole towns were carved into these rocks with houses and tunnels and churches with frescos. People still live in houses carved into the stone, and some lucky tourists can even book a room in one of the pricey carved rock hotels.

After a short 30-minute hike through the landscape, our tour guide took us to the old deserted town of Zelve. Zelve was inhabited until 1952. In 1967 it was turned into an open-air museum. I felt like I was 6 years old again climbing up the cliffs to the caves (or houses), exploring each room and tunnel, ima-gining the lifestyle of the cave dwellers while admiring the views as I climbed.

Fairy Chimneys

We then piled back into our rented minibus and headed to a town called Avanos. This is a town famous for its colourful pottery made from the red clay of the Kyzylyrmak River – the longest in Turkey. We visited a shop that allowed us to watch and learn how the intricately decorated pots were made. We were all so impressed with the show and the artwork that each of us bought a souvenir pot. As we explored the tourist kiosks that seem to be around almost every Cappadocia corner we realized that they were selling the same pots at a half to two thirds the price we had paid in the shop.

Our next excursion took us to one of Cappadocia’s 36 identified underground cities (only four are open to the public). It was like climbing through a giant ant farm, crawling through holes and tunnels and more holes. These cities were actually fully functioning civilizations equipped with communal kitchens, ventilation systems, and common rooms. These cities were built to live in during invasions and could sustain hundreds of people for up to six months! They are not for the claustrophobic. The tall might emerge with a bit of back pain. Our tour guide – about 5’3” – appeared to be standing comfortably in the rooms while the rest of us had to hunch. I did however get a kick out of crawling down the maze of tunnels and rooms carved eight levels down into the earth!

Whirling Dervishes

Our final night in Cappadocia was spent watching the mesmerizing prayer dance of the whirling Dervishes. The Dervishes belong to the Sufi sect of Islam. The whirling they do is a type of prayer to achieve a meditative trance state, connecting with the ever revolving motion of all existence – from the protons and electrons around the nucleus, to the planets around the stars. Their long flowing angelic white skirts seem to send them soaring into mystical flight. The “show” is incredibly beautiful and relaxing. Sweet cinnamon tea is served to the audience to conclude the show. My sweet tooth couldn’t get enough of it. It cost 35 lira (about $35). I stumbled across more Whirling Dervishes a week later near the Blue Mosque in Istanbul. That show was free and it did not skimp on the tea.

Although I opted out of the $250 hot air balloon ride (apparently a must see), and may have fallen into a couple of tourist traps, my Cappadocia experience was nothing short of extraordinary. From the giant ant farm to the towering Fairy Chimneys, Cappadocia took me to another world, and back to the playground.

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One of the prettiest villages in Quebec

Knowlton scenery (photo: Jessie Archambault)

Part of the Association des Plus Beaux Villages du Québec, Knowlton is 100 km from Montreal and is mostly English-speaking. Loyalists from New England founded the Victorian-style town in 1821. This explains the village’s British flavour, notable as soon as you get there.

On Knowlton Road we see the town’s three churches – Anglican, Catholic and United – which were all built soon after the town’s founding.

In the summer, outdoor and indoor activities take over the town. There are band concerts at the Gazebo, painting exhibitions, English plays at the Lake Brome Theatre, a wedding dress exhibition, from Sunday, June 1 to Tuesday, June 3, and a tractor pull competition from Friday, July 18 to Sunday, July 20.

The local theatre will present Intimate Exchanges Saturday, July 5, Richard Donat reads Stephen Leacock Saturday, July 12, Let’s be Frank Saturday, July 19, Woodswalker Friday, July 25, The 25th Century Belongs to Canada Saturday, June 28, and The Dik and Mitzi Anniversary Show Friday, August 8.

Each Labour Day weekend an agricultural fair established in 1856 takes place near Knowlton over four days. Brome Fair has talent shows, horses, cattle judging, attractions and rides, a magician, local band shows, and a 4x4 truck pull contest.

The major outside activity is the Brome Lake Duck Fest during the last two weekends of September from 11 am – 5 pm when the town closes its two main streets to celebrate. The festival welcomes visitors from Quebec, Ontario, Vermont and New York for a total of 50,000 people over the two weekends. They can taste the duck, special dishes and local products like jams, wine, cheese and honey. Duck-related souvenirs are available in the majority of the stores and outdoor stands.

The Auberge Knowlton Inn starts at $120 per room, with two country-style breakfasts for just $15 more. The inn offers its guests 10% off at its restaurant Le Relais. Attached to the inn, it has an old-style ambiance, looking like a decorated barn with wooden tables and chairs. The menu consists of steak, chicken, seafood, and of course duckling, with prices varying from $18 to $30. All the wine served is locally made in vineyards around the Lake.

Downtown is comprised of Lakeside Street and Knowlton Road where the stores, cafés, restaurants, antique stores and accomodations are found.

Knowlton changes depending on the season in which you visit it. In the spring, multicoloured flowers hang everywhere and in the summer everyone is outside. Autumn gives a magnificent view of the colourful trees, and in winter they’re lit up by lights and Christmas ornaments.

Knowlton is a perfect escape for a taste of the country, boasting a great deal of diversion on a reasonable budget and is well worth a visit any time of year.

Jessie Archambault is a Dawson student.

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Istanbul - the magic, the madness and the mosques

The Blue Mosque

Europe’s most populous city is split by the Bosporus River into two distinct regions. Half of it lies in Europe and the other half in Asia. The Black Sea is to the north and the Marmara Sea to the south. Istanbul is the only metropolis in the world that lies on two continents, and over 10 million people call it home.

I arrived at Ataturk Airport at around 6 am with several men asking me if I needed a lift to my hotel. I ended up having to haggle over the taxi fare to my hostel. On arrival my hostel room wasn’t ready so I decided to take a walk around the neighbourhood to acquaint myself with the city I’d call home for the next few days.

I was staying at the Bauhaus Guesthouse. It was ranked #1 in the world at hostelworld.com and I would soon learn why. It’s located in an area called Sultanahmet, aka Tourist Town, with almost all the main attractions within walking distance. There is an area of about a one-mile radius packed with hostels and boutique hotels, each of them with beautiful rooftop terraces with views of the Bosporus, the Blue Mosque, and Hagia Sophia.

My little walk didn’t last long. It seemed as though every Turkish man I walked by called out to me, either for a date, or to buy a carpet. This was a culture shock I wasn’t expecting and would be forced to get used to if I wanted to explore and enjoy this city. I hurried back to my hostel, wrote an email to my Turkish friend, Ahmet, telling him how scared I was, and hid and cried for the rest of the day in my room. I was going to be stuck in this town for a while.

I met a Columbian guy on the rooftop. He’d been there for about a week and was about to leave. He said Istanbul was magical, though I was unable to see the magic at that point. I didn’t like having to bargain for my taxi ride, nor was I amused by men who hassled me everywhere I walked. Ahmet, a man of few words, wrote back simply that everything would be okay and that he would pick me up the next day at 10 am to be my personal tour guide for the day.

A room in the harem of the Topkapi Palace

I hadn’t seen him since the summer of 2002 at UCLA. When I left I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. There we were, five years later on his home turf. He looked more distinguished and notably comfortable, since I was used to seeing him on the UCLA campus like a fish out of water. I supposed it was my turn to play the fish.

After a brief stop for a cup of Turkish apple tea, we headed straight to the Topkapi Palace. This massive palace, which at the height of its existence was home to about 4000 people, is not to be missed. Topkapi was home to the royals from 1465 to 1853, including Sultan Selim the Sot, who drowned in the bath after drinking too much champagne. It was occupied by the Valide Sultan (mother of the Sultan), who ruled the harem, plus the Sultan, the Sultan’s wives, up to 300 concubines and their children, and their servants.

The royal residence is an exquisite display of Ottoman architecture, housing beautiful displays of antique porcelain, weapons, and murals. We spent about 3½ hours strolling through the four courts. The murals are masterpieces by themselves. Don’t miss the treasury. There I found a seemingly endless array of treasures including gold and diamond candlesticks, jewel-encrusted swords, a throne made of mother-of-pearl, the Topkapi Dagger – decorated with three enormous emeralds – and the pièce de resistance, the Kasikci, aka Spoonmaker’s Diamond. The Kasikci is a teardrop-shaped 86-carat diamond surrounded by 49 smaller diamonds. It is the fifth largest diamond in the world.

Steps away from the Topkapi Palace is the world-famous Hagia Sophia. Originally built as a church in 537, Mehmet the Conqueror had it converted into a mosque in 1493, as it remained until Ataturk proclaimed it a museum in 1935. As we walked into this massive structure, I must have looked pretty silly with my head tilted back and my mouth open wide. I was stunned at the indescribable grandeur of this building but it must have looked like I was trying to catch raindrops in my mouth. Oh well, I assume many others looked as I did.

Both famished, we took a two-minute taxi ride down to Eminounu (I guess we could have walked). From there we walked along the Galata Bridge, an experience in itself. Hundreds of fishermen line the top of the bridge, where restaurants lie underneath. I asked Ahmet why all those men were fishing. He answered simply, “to catch fish.”

We ate at a nice Turkish restaurant with lots of vegetarian options for me. Turkish food seems similar to Israeli food, or maybe that’s just the Middle East. Loud singing from speakerphones suddenly interrupted our lunchtime conversation. What was that?!! Where was it coming from? I looked around and nobody seemed to take notice. I didn’t see any police and Ahmet continued eating. Should I be concerned? No, because once you’ve been in Istanbul for more than a day you’ll notice these loud prayers from the mosques penetrating the city 5 times a day. I was not pleased with the first one, which was at 6 am.

From there we walked up through the 350-year-old Spice Bazaar. There I found Turkish delight, spices, nuts, teas, lotions, potions and trinkets for tourists. A bit overwhelming at first, but it’s a mere warmup to our final destination, the Grand Bazaar, aka paradise.

The Grand Bazaar is no simple task. Take the advice from the master – moi – who after the first time, with Ahmet, conquered the labyrinth three times thereafter. Put on your bargaining hat, take out the compass and map, hold your bag and brace yourself. There are over 4000 shops, with every shopkeeper trying to lure you in. From the carpets and pottery to the jewelry and the belly dancing costumes you’ll be sure to find what you want! I found the perfect belly dancing costume, but $400 was a bit out of my budget, so I settled on a beautiful turquoise and silver bracelet. I bargained down from 120 lira to 50 lira, and included matching earrings. I suppose the carpet wouldn’t have fit in my suitcase.

We spent the night partying with Ahmet’s friends until sunrise at the bars and clubs across the Galata Bridge in Tax