Can you say Hamengkubuwono three times fast?

The train from Jakarta to Yogyakarta (pronounced Joag-juh-karta) was uneventful and scenic for a few sections. It was comfortable if not sparkling clean; my window was so dirty on the outside that it was a little hard to make out the detail streaming by. But I realized that even if westerners didn't wear such revealing clothes, I think Indonesians would still think we are crazy. And that's because of the crap American movies they show on the trains. These flicks are not even direct-to-video - they must be direct-to-Indonesian trains. The two I saw were both subtitled and the volume was down, so I couldn't follow them perfectly, but I don't think that was possible anyway. The first was about a family that moves into a house that just happens to have a playhouse that was used by devil worshipers. Isn't that always the way? There was a bad twin in a prison or insane asylum (it was hard to tell), and the usual overuse of pentagrams and swarms of beetles. The second flick was called Turbulence 3 - Heavy Metal, and it was even harder to understand.

Living Dangerously?

Apa kabar? Tranlation: how are you?  I'm good, but feeling the jet lag.  After a hotel-to-hotel journey of 26 hours across 5 time zones, I arrived in Jakarta yesterday afternoon.  I was a little bit intimidated too.  Everything you hear or read about Jakarta can be summed in at least one of these three categories:  dirty, dangerous, or chaotic.  Even the good characteristics are slotted under chaotic.  Things like "the driving is atrocious" or "lock the taxi doors and roll up with windows - they'll steal your bag at a stop light" or "don't walk - you will be mowed down - take a taxi, but don't get ripped off by the driver!"  The scaredy-cat part of me worried that Jakarta would be like Cairo all over again.

Turkish Delights (I couldn't resist the pun)

Tonight is my last night in Turkey. I plan to celebrate my birthday with a nice meal, a long bath and that stubborn bottle of wine. Wild times! But I always have things in mind to post here and then I forget to do so. Consider this a sampling from the grab bag of my observations. Scary, I know.

I've really enjoyed Turkish food. I was expecting to find and love all the eggplant and yogurt, and I've never put away so many tomatoes and cucumbers in my life. The deliciousness and variety of the bread did surprise me. Turks are bakers! Fresh is best, and I've been hard pressed to get stale bread anywhere (not that I was trying). There's loads of street food, which is a trait I admire in a culture. Today, in the Ortakoy district of Istanbul, I tried the kumpir.

Last night was spent on a bus*, making it my 5th night bus in 65 days and my third in Turkey. Whew. But don't worry about me because I'm now enjoying my birthday gift from my family - being pampered at the Hilton! I've got: a view of the Bosphorus from my room, a bathrobe and slippers, champers and birthday cake, red wine and cheese, a beautiful fruit plate, and a gal at the executive desk who is taking care of all my needs and wants to emulate me and quit her job and go travel (it's contagious). It's pretty slick but I can still find a way to thwart myself in such circumstances. As I write this, tomorrow is my birthday, so I was going to save the bubbly for then and dive in to the red wine tonight. I started to open the bottle, and I broke the opener. So I called guest services, they delivered another of the same type within 5 minutes and...I broke it too. I just couldn't call again, so I popped open the bubbly, lit the candle on the cake and sang the happy birthday song to myself one day early. Now I think I'm going to go finish it (don't worry, it's a small bottle) on my balcony and watch the boats, barges, and ships sail by me on the Bosphorus.

* published on a day lag - do not complain to management

Cleopatra wuz here

After more than a week of being a beach bum on the southern shores of Turkey, I headed inland and east to Pamukkale.  Puh-moo-kuh-lay.  Turkish words have fairly even accents on each syllable, so however tempted you are to say Puh MOO kuh lay or PUH moo kuh lay or Puh moo kuh LAY, that isn't the way.  The word "kale" is all over the place, in place names, on car dealerships, on all kinds of signs.  I finally found out in Pamukkale what it means - fortress.  And "pamu" means cotton.  Are you dying for me to make my point already?

Sailing the Sapphire Seas

A few years ago, I came across a piece of travel porn. It was a gorgeous catalog full of beautiful photos of amazing customized trips that the company organized. The only one that ever really appealed to me was called "Sailing the Sapphire Seas" and involved traveling along Turkey's Mediterranean coast in a gullet, which is a traditional Turkish sailboat. The whole point was to hug the coast, popping into the numerous small bays and coves that are only accessible by sea, hang out on the boat, and eat. Doesn't it sound great?

Lagoons and Ghost Towns

The tourist season on Turkey's Mediterranean coast starts April 1, and I arrived on April 2.  After three days of checking out the remains of the three prehistoric volcanoes that created Cappadocia's landscape, I escaped to Fethiye with its warm weather, cool breezes, and harbor full of yachts and sailboats.  And it only took a 13 hour bus ride to get here!