[Netherlands] Fun..

Location: Cafe in The Hague

Fun
...is the simplest way to describe Amsterdam in one word. The city will make it impossible for anyone to go and not have an enjoyable time, well, unless you're a lonely backpacker. From a glance of the people walking around, it was obvious what these people came to Amsterdam for: Pot. Tourists in Amsterdam can be catagorized into two distinct groups. Guys and couples. Guys come for pot, brownies, alcohol, and girls. Couples, well, they still got magical brownies and alcohol.

The city is spectacular. I personally think it levels, if not surpasses, Rome or Paris in terms of enjoyable tourism destination. With the Van Gogh Museum and Anne Frank's house, its got the historical attraction. Add to that gabajillion "coffee shops" that sells pot by ounces, which provides a variety of selection from brownies, cookies, tea, to coffee, all for an identical purpose. If that's not enough, tourists will enter the Red Light District after midnight, conveniently located next to the funky and mellow coffeeshop zone.

Well Amsterdam was interesting just because it was "The Amsterdam" that high school Americans so often talk about. As immature as it is, I admit on having a stereotypical image of Amsterdam, mainly based on news and movies ("Eurotrip"). I mean I'll be offended if someone assumes that all Japanese are hentais. But the Dutch, those in Amsterdam particulary, not only meet the

stereotype but they easily outstrip it. If I told locals what I expected to see before coming, they'd probably tell me, "you thought we only smoke that much?". Literally, just walking down the main strip made me wonder if it's what it feels like to be high (because I have never been). The word 'sketchy' doesn't qualify as a description of these coffeeshops because, well, no one is trying to hide it. The funkier the appearance and more straight-forward the shop name, the more customers (or smokers) will flow in.

Good Morning
I like to think that I have always been a morning person. I'd sleep looking forward to the morning coffee (and toothbrushing). But this trip has allowed me to step up the "morning-person" ladder. I'm considering whether to write "waking up early" as a hobby on my job resume...that'll catch interviewers attention for sure. "Why?", they ask of course. "Because I enjoy observing the city wake up. It's like being an audience to a movie (but for free). The sunrise is the

opening scene and sunset is the closing. Simple. Each city has their main characters. In some cities they may be working businessmen, who must commute everyday to fight competing companies, or in other cities farmers who cooperate with their family to keep their farming business running." Half the time there will be an awkward silent in the interviewing room, but that's alright. Having 'interesting' hobby is a positive factor..or at least that's what someone told me.

Amsterdam waking up

Munchies
Intoxination is often partnered by munchies. With so many bars and coffeeshops, the "munchie" industry may be as big as "combini" in Japan. Except the quality of food that hits the top of the "munchies" list tanks when compared to the combini quality. Experienced smokers and drinkers can judge for themselves, the "ultimate munchies"..in Amsterdam

King of Munchies. Most popular out of the bunch. Often sold from stands or carts, these are something like fries with bunch of mayonaise..

Amsterdam in conclusion
If you want to have fun, come to Amsterdam. Come with your friends. Come for excitement. Come while you're young. Come to forget about everything bad in life (literally).
At the same time, it is somewhat of a waste, that people only come for the pot. There are stunning sights here and there, but they don't get the attention they deserve. They are overshadowed by funky cafes and red light windows, and too often where they don't make the guide book. For example, unless a stoner is greatly interested in Anne Frank's life during the Holocaust, he probably wouldn't find himself going there (unless he's stoned at the time and gets there accidently). Even products displayed at souvenir shops all have to do with pot or sex, as if they know exactly what's on tourists' mind. I would of liked to see something of Anne Frank or Van Gogh for a change.

And NO THIS IS NOT A SEX SHOP, this is at a normal souvenir shops, just one of 300 others in the city.

But I did find some cool things

Nice

[...where is this] ...where is this??

A hassle? Or a gift..
Feels almost as if I’ve had more cases of hectic and disrupted transportations than smooth ones. Trains and buses delayed, planes disappearing, bus taking my luggage but not my body. Maybe I’m just too used to managing my own transportation in LA, or using the uber efficient public transportation system in Tokyo. Even so, there must be something about my style of traveling or some kind of tendency, because not even other backpackers experience as much trouble..

Yesterday I took a flight from Larnaca Airport in Cyprus to Weeze Airport in Germany. It’s probably because Cyprus is so small and only limited airlines offers flight to/from there, because Weeze Airport is the smallest airport in Germany and it’s located in..Dussledorf. Not

Berlin, not Munich, not Frankfurt or Hamburg. Dussledorf. Where is it on the map? I’m still not quite sure because some maps don’t bother labeling it. That’s how random it is. For this exact reason, I booked a bus from the airport to Amsterdam, which only takes about an hour and is far closer than other German cities (thus cheaper). So at this point I became aware that I’m in west Germany, somewhere along the boarder of Netherland and Belgium. There’s only one bus that goes to Amsterdam, which was at 23:59, so I had no other choice than to wait at the airport for 6 hours. Wasn’t too bad, just read magazines and had coffee. I’m learning to utilize idle time.

I can live with vending machine coff. Not a starbucks fan anyway

Even managed to get a bit of sleep in as well. Woke up to my alarm at 23:59, drifted to the bus terminal, and waited.

And waited

…and waited, until finally around 00:20 a short, chunky German lady who had being standing there the whole time (who turns out to be an airport staff) decided to notify me: “Today, no bus”. Wth. Why didn’t she tell me before when I’m obviously waiting for a bus, and more importantly, why didn’t my bus come? The answer to the second question (forget the first) became clear later on for me, but in conclusion this is what happened.

- Each passenger for the bus pays 50 Euro to go to Amsterdam
- The driver is paid a flat rate of 200 Euro, so unless at least 4 passengers board the bus, the company’s in the red zone
- Number of passengers for the 6/24 23:59 bus: 1 (me)
- So now it makes sense. Except it still lacks explanation to justify why I was not notified..

So I had to call the company. AirExpress Bus. Though the service is far from express, and the vehicle they decided to send was definitely not a bus. More like a 2010 S-class Mercedes-Benz. “Why send a bus for a single person when it eats more gas?”, says the driver. True. So despite departing the airport 30 minutes late, I got to Amsterdam 15 minutes earlier than initially scheduled because the driver was having too much fun behind the wheel (apparently having less than 4 passenger is pretty rare, so seldom does he have the chance to drive a Mercedes) and the road was empty at 1am. Two cans of RedBull probably helped his foot settle on the gas pedal quite comfortably. He was a cool guy though. He ordered me not to sleep because he hates tourists who does that (it makes it boring on his part), which I respect. But half the time he was too busy with his gear-shifting and left me hanging. I could of slept for an hour..

So there I was finally at 2am: Red-Light, er...Amsterdam.

[Cyprus] Ah, West

Does this count?
Technically, I’m not in Greek. But the people are Greek, the language is Greek, the food, culture, and religion is all of Greek. But I’m not in Greek? After learning a bit of Cyprus history, it makes sense to feel as if you’re in Greek. After all, many people argued exactly so and lost their life trying to defend this, and to achieve acceptance by the international community.

It was such a sudden change. Walking into the south side all the sudden big western brands pop up in your face.

like this

this

this

and of course, this.

I mean the “West” list goes on. Besides these there were Cinnabon, Burger King, TGIF, Subway, and Haagen Dazs. Norther Cyprus had none of these.. just the sketchy 7-11.

So one thing good about being a tourist, and I’m really stretching this, is that I’m able to enjoy a genuine observation of places I visit. The Turkey that I saw during this trip, the Cyprus, the Eastern Europe, or any other country I’ve witnessed for the first time, will not appear in my eyes as romantic or authentic the next time around (sorry for the gay terminology. I did take a course in tourism..), because I would develop expectations and perceptions. Even for human, only one shot to earn a good first impression, right. Same for locations. So everyplace I go, each step I take in each direction, becomes so valuable.

Now, oh yes, South Cyprus was nice. A bit too nice.

[Cyprus] The girl from the TV

My weakness
This trip is definitely allowing me to cope with my weakness.
As mentioned before, I’m not the best sleeper. At bad times, especially during testing period, I have to depend on wine to make myself relax. Or eat non stop until I’m so full that I get tired and can’t move, because I get hyper active and cannot stay still. It’s frustrating when you have trouble doing the most basic human behavior. Well anyway, this trip might be just what I need to overcome such disability (at least temporarily). Since starting this trip on June 12th, so about 40 days, I can count the number of times I stayed in a proper hostel with my right hand only. So it’s not hard to recall. Once in India, twice in Turkey, and once in Cyprus. All others nights I was either on a bus (or a train or ferry), at a terminal or an airport, and even some parks. I was also fortunate in India, Kenya, Egypt, and Rome for being able to stay at someone’s home. Thanks to them I think my accommodation expense is still below $100?

After sleeping on the overnight ferry from Tasucu, Turkey, to Girne, Cyprus

Intro to Cyprus
Like Kosovo, or almost all countries in the Eastern European region, Cyprus does not appear on a typical itinerary. Why? I’d like to know. I don’t think I’ll hear any creditable answer, assuming most responses will be something along the line of “why go there when I can go to [any country]”. That’s my image of a typical tourist response. However, I can respect those who are still reluctant to bring their family to a nation that, until recently, was heavily dependent on the UN to sustain safety. My question is, how many people are aware of the Cyprus struggle? The Turkish Cypriots and Greek Cypriots? The Green Line? Hnn..

Well since couple years ago I started getting more and more interested in the history of Cyprus. The history is not yet deep, however, for it was only in 1974 that the long struggle between the two Cypriots, the Turkish north and the Greek south, terminated. By “terminated”, I mean by external force, mostly by the Green Line drawn by the British that completely divided the country in half, and by the UN who helped enforce it. Basically until the green line was drawn in 1974, the Greeks and the Turks were going at it. Putting Christians and Muslims on an island alone? Not a good idea. It didn’t take long until both sides started to make aggressive attempts to eradicate the other. Greeks, who desperately wanted to reunify with its motherland Greece, were the more aggressive. They formulated a massive, deadly organization, called the EOKA, led by a former Greek military officer, whose sole objective was to wipe out every single Turk out of the island, and to retaliate against the British force who were also on the land to occupy. The result, blood.

To find out more, I went to a museum in Southern Cyprus. I was attracted by the name: “Museum of the National Struggle” (it was “The National Struggle Museum” on Lonely Planet). Yeh, not the best name for a museum. Imagine having to ask a local person “hey you know that museum about you guys struggling? Yeh, where is it?”

Wait there

This is really something; a referendum presented by the Greek side of Cyprus. Contains 94.7% of the population’s signature, all whom seeks reunification with mainland. It is said that the 5.3% who didn’t vote were teachers, policemen, and government officials who were restricted from signing. So basically, every single Greek Cypriot’s will is contained in this single book.

The actual rope used when Greek Cypriots (EOKA members) were executed by the British. All of them who killed Turks and fought British forces for freedom and return to mainland. This is only one of 3 ropes used. One was taken by the British after the war, and the other was burned. Photos are of Greek Cypriots who were actually hung using this one. It’s so well preserved and the information is precise only because these catastrophic events happened so recently.. (it's a coincidence that my shadow almost overlaps the loophole).

So there’s a bit of an intro to Cyprus. For simplicity look at the Koreas. North and South used to be a single nation until the UN imposed a boarder and created a buffer zone to ease the tension (though until today they are still technically at war). Cyprus is similar, except the line was first drawn by the British (literally with a green pen, thus the “Green Line”), and the boarder does not fully separate the legal entity of the nation, meaning Cyprus is still Cyprus, whereas North Korea is separate from it’s southern counterpart. However, after implementing this Green Line, the British, with tremendous aid from the UN force, initiated a huge project of placing the Turkish Cypriots on the northern half, the Greek Cypriots on the south, and placed military officials in between, in hopes of creating peace. That’s why Cyprus is so unique. When walking in the streets on the North side you hear prayer callings, mosques are everywhere, people eat doners (kebabs) and payment are in Turkish Lira (TL). But once crossing the line (and passing through security) into the south, you’re surrounded by Mediterranean restaurants, half naked men, and the pay is in Euro.

This is a map of the capital of Cyprus, known as Nicosia to the Turks and Lefcosia to the Greeks. It is located in the heart of the island. It’s hard to see on this map, but there is a green line that runs straight through this city, which further protracts to cut the country in half. The boundary that looks like a snowflake (which to me looks a hand grenade..) represents a wall, which was built by the Venetians for protection against the Ottoman invasion over 2000 years ago (which is when the Turks started living in Cyprus). So simple terms, when in the northern grenade you’re in Istanbul, and in the south you’re in Athens. The wall still stands today, and brings back sour memories especially to Greeks of older generation, who sees it as the starting point of the bloody conflict. But, like many other countries, most of the people knows how to deal with it. At the end of the day, it’s only a wall.

A view of the Turkish side of the wall, with a UN security tower standing right beside it. The two flags are of Turkey and Cyprus. Ever time there is a flag of Cyprus, there is always a flag of either Turkey or Greece.

Walking along the Green Line. So why the hell is it blue?
Oh right, the UN.

Imagine living along the Green Line. The family who lived next you yesterday becomes a far neighbor tomorrow, even though you can probably still yell at them from your backyard. Some of these houses, like the one above, were separated right through the middle. This photo was taking from Northern Cyprus (Turkish side), so this house is in northern territory. I forgot to mention that the people were giving several months to physically move to the side they belong to, and also to convert currencies to either Euro or Turkish Lira without additional fee.

The Reason
I was watching TV several years back. I can’t recall the details, but that was when I first learned about Cyprus and what’s going on there. There was a Turkish girl, at a park, who was responding to an interview. She was calling for unification of North and South Cyprus, and was wondering why she couldn’t play with her friend on the other side of the fence. In the background, there was that fence, right next to the slides and swings, with a photo of a military man on it that said “Forbidden Zone”.

This is the fence. The exact one the girl on the TV was pointed to. Except at her time, this gate was closed. Today this gate is open, but there is still UN personnels protecting the boarder. The park is called the Rocca Bastin, and it was known to be the only place in Niscosia, or in Cyprus, that each side can observe the daily behavior of the other side. Everywhere else, the gates were either too tall to look over, or the buffer zone disallowed getting close enough.

Technically my body is in Turkish half of Cyprus, and my fingers are in the Greek half.

Seeing something or somewhere from the same viewpoint of someone else is always interesting, because somehow it feels like you can share the feeling as well. It’s hard to imagine what the Turkish girl felt at the time, but one thing for sure is that it’s probably one of the heaviest walls to open in the world.

The Cross
Alright enough with the history lesson? Here’s some random photos of the city, and the crossing into the southern half.

Not quite sure what this is, but I thought about copying it. I would of if I wasn’t alone..

Along the wall. There’s an old soccer field.

The Northern half of Niscosia is as Turkey-ish as Turkey can get. Mosque, Turkish Delights, Cay, it’s all there

There were some small bazaars for tourists and…7-11?

Time to cross over the Green Line.

One of the few Turkish words I learned, Guile Guile to you too Turkey!

June 22, 2011

Happy 2 years

[Turkey] ちょっとした伝説

Long Story
After a nice farewell to everyone I headed for the bus station. Almost got emotional. What I did get was soreness in my thighs and calves from the bike ride. Arrived at the bus station at 9:50, perfect. Had everything under control. Take the 10 hour overnight bus to Mersin, take a 2 hour dolmusus to Silicuk, and another dolmusus to Tasucu, and take the 12 hour overnight ferry to Girne. Day and a half from now, I’ll be in Northern Cyprus. Simple.

…that’s what I thought.

After putting my luggage in the bus storage, I showed my ticket to get on the bus. The guy, instead of giving me a nod as a “get on” sign, he nervously looked inside the bus, looked back at me, then told me “wait”. He then rushed inside the office and started arguing with the other workers. Alright long story short,
- The bus is full. They booked me on the wrong bus.
- The next bus is in the next day, so I had to spend another night.
- While they were arguing, the bus took off. OH YEH, WITH MY LUGGAGE.
- Now I have to wait for the SAME bus to come back to Girne, which is next evening at 12am.
- In conclusion, my depart from Girne was delayed 26 hours than what I initially planned.

Workers at Suha Tourism arguing

My second cave room..

Spending another day in Cappadocia itself isn’t what gets to me. The fact that I planned all itineraries beforehand, then getting screwed over by the most fundamental mistake by the brainless workers, is what I cannot forgive. Literally, the job is to sit at a desk the whole day, drink endless chai, then book customers as they come until the bus is full. ANYONE can literally do that with a pencil and pen. It doesn’t require a brain any bigger than a toothbrush..

So yes, they f’ed up. I ended up staying at this hostel in a crappy dorm room..which is another story that upsets me because the hostel is actually owned by the bus company owner. Yes, after they messed up my ticket, they sent me to stay in their hostel in the leftover room, and then claim that they “fully compensated” for the damage. I tried to negotiate and make them pay for my ferry, using everything I remembered from Contract Law in my Business Law course.. but being in a foreign country as a tourist where they don’t understand key legal terms like breach, obligation, and consideration, I wasn’t getting anywhere. So in the end I lost 26 hours, and didn’t get anything in return.

But I know they felt somewhat guilty, they kept giving me chai (to shut me up perhaps).


ビター
日本語しばらく使ってなかったな。。
そう、なんとカッパドキアで２６時間も損にしてしまった。損というより、被害者である自分は貴重な時間を「奪われた」のだ。
本音を言うと、一番残念なのは失った時間ではない。その後のキプロス行きのプランが台無しになったことでもない。残念なのはこの「事件」がトルコで起きたこと、そして加害者がトルコ人であるということだ。別にトルコやトルコ人が嫌いになった訳ではないが、「明日でトルコとはお別れ」という時に起こるとトルコ全体の思い出が苦くなってしまう。。これこそが非常に残念だ。

けど実は、もう一日カッパドキアにいたからこそ経験できたことがある。最初の二日間、朝早く起きて名物の気球を見ようとしたが、曇っていてどちらの日も見ることが出来なかった。けど三日目の朝、ついつい早く目がさめてしまって外に散歩しに行ったら、こんな景色が待っていた。

トルコでの１週間半は最高に楽しかった。後味は少しビターだった。。

トルコで見た伝説
今まで「大阪のオバちゃん」をテレビでしか見たことがなかった。でも先日、凄いのに出会った。まさかのカッパドキアで本物を目の当たりにした。
本来のバスに乗れずにバスのオフィスの前でふてくされてる時だった。中国人っぽいオバさんが向かったきた。日本人だと感付いたのか、話しかけてきた。まぁ、なぜ凄いかを説明しよう。一風普通の「大阪のオバさん」に見えるこのオバさん、実はフランスに３年間住み、その後４年間イタリアに住んでいるのだ。「パートナーと」とか。。
それだけではない。もっと凄いのはトルコにいる理由だ。「旅行ですか？」と聞いたら「いや、ダイエットやねん」と返してきた。

。。。「はい？」
意味が分からんかった。貴方がダイエットをするのは自由だが、食べ物では世界トップ３に入るトルコ（Wikipedia情報)にくる必要があるのか？そもそもなぜイタリアで出来ないのか。そして余計なお世話だが、「いや、ダイエットしてもね。。」と思ってしまった。ようするに何千ユーロも払って２４時間専門トレーナー付きのダイエット旅行。。ってか？色んな人がいるもんだ。


そして１０分間のマシンガントークの後、（バスが来たので）彼女は去っていった。最後の締めは「ハブ・ア・ナイス・ジャーニー！」とバリバリな大阪英語。周りの視線が痛かった。あそこまで自信満々な「ハブ・ア・ナイス・ジャーニー」は歴史の教科書に残るものだ。トルコで伝説を見れたかもしれない。

Farewell Cappadocia (again). Thanks for adding some bitterness to my trip.

[Turkey] Austrian Politics?

Location: Cafe in Southern Cyprus (I had not wifi in 3 days..)

The initial plan in Cappadocia was to just relax and rest my body. I’m glad I didn’t, cus that would of meant missing out on one the most spectacular piece of nature..in the world (?). According to UNESCO's world heritage listing, I’m not exaggerating. Yesterday I visited a town even smaller than Goreme, called Uchisar, a city that literally gave me goose bumps. I ended up going there again today.

Uchisar
Though it's probably only the locals that refer to place as "Petite France", I thought that this tiny town next to Goreme offers something that even Paris or Leon cannot level up to. The

Uchisar Castle, the most swiss-cheese-looking rock in the neighborhood, really adds something special to the landscape of Cappadocia. If you've ever seen "Hal's Moving Castle", the Uchisar Castle really reminded me of the castle in the film (even though I never really got to finish that movie..). I decided to walk to it since it was only about 4km from Goreme, and I designated the day for simple walks in order to preserve energy for the next day's biking trip. It was a nice long walk up to the castle. Met some people and stopped at some shops on the way. I was almost led on to purchase a pillow cover, until I realized that I'd probably blame it for not being able to sleep and that I didn't have any more space something (unnecessary) like that.

Getting to Uchisar was one thing. Getting up to the castle was a whole different story. You can probably tell from the photo that there isn't a large road that leads up to the castle. Instead, there's a valley called the "Pigeon Valley", and when there's valleys in Cappadocia, it means that you're in for a hell of a maze and you shouldn't expect a walk in the park. But as I say, that's what adds flavor to everything in life. It probably took me longer than it should have, but then I also got to see more than I could have if I followed a map.

Supposedly Cappadocia is popular amongst wine drinkers. It's the only city in Turkey that produces wine! A pleasant surprise. Would of bought one if I wasn't backpacking.

A strong candidate to my mug collection.

Way to the top where the castle awaits.

Uchisar Castle

Hostel people
When I stay at hostels, I tell myself that I'm not paying for the roof over my head, the shower, the warm water, nor the hospitality, but for the connections that I make. Hostels, especially in dormitories, provide the ideal opportunity to make connections. People I meet at hostel dormitories are usually young and broke backpackers, like myself. By broke I don't mean we're struggling to get through everyday, but that we're skimping on accommodation to ease the burden on our wallets.

At Ufuk, I stayed in a 5-people dormitory cave room (all guys of course). 2 guys from Austria, 2 guts from Japan, and myself (I mentioned why there's so many Japanese people here earlier). I think I got closer to the 2 Austrians more than any other person I've met on this trip. Before further into that, the Ya-pa-neese (Japanese in Turkish).

When I told them I have a blog, they told me that I can use their name, which helps just because I won't have to label them "this guy" and the "other Japanese one". So there's Ryota-san and Ryutaro-san (from now, Ryota and Ryutaro. Last time I checked, no age hierarchy in Turkey). Ryuta is 28 and comes from Osaka. He's been traveling for about 8 months after quitting his job and leaving his girlfriend waiting in Japan. Guys like this makes me feel so small for traveling for 10 weeks only (and makes me feel better making her wait. Just playing girl, you're thinking "Don't worry, I'm not waiting". I know, I know). Hnn what else about him. (Alright, why not be honest. This is my blog after all). He can get annoying. Well it was obvious that he was happy to talk to a Japanese person, and that he wanted to share his stories with someone who speaks his language. Felt like I was in Wakei, my dorm. Ah, the days of sitting on the floor for hours listening and nodding to stories that at the end, benefits me NADA. But this time was different. I was in Turkey, and I had no obligation to pretend to be interested. But me being me, I did exactly that.

The second Japanese is Ryutaro. Another unique individual. They both found me to be unique, but I think the same about them even more. So this guy attends Osaka Gai-Dai (a university specializing in foreign language) and is in his last year to obtain his degree with a Portuguese degree. Well actually, he's taking a year off to study abroad in Portugal and do some traveling. Sounds legit, right? That's what I thought at first, until I asked him why he chose to major in Portuguese. Turns out he's a crazy soccer fan. That's it. That's the reason. He like soccer = Brazil is good at soccer = Brazilians speak Portuguese = Major in Portuguese. Easy. I actually respect how he genuinly committed his entire life to his hobby. Makes me wonder why people like me think and worry so much about the future. What I can't respect is how he still doesn't know how to connect his major to his career. I can write a whole new blog (on a separate account) about future ambitions and career decisions, but if I had time to that I'd be doing more activities to polish my resume.

Ah, the Austrians. Love these guys. Sab and Fleck (I think Sab is short for Sabastin). Spent an entire day and a half with them. Probably didn't put a smile on Ryota's and Ryutaro's faces to see me hang with these guys more than the people of "my kind" (Japanese). But I was having too much fun. They just graduated from Vienna University with a major in Film and Theatre. Yes, our interest couldn't of been any more different. Usually I'm hesitant to immediately open up to guys into art, drama, or theatre (I'm half kidding. half), but this time, it didn't take anything more than cup of chai and a glass of Cappadonian red wine. They were the easiest guys to get along with. Our hobbies and interests are different (complete opposite almost), but we had overlapping traveling styles and similar perceptions on tourists & backpackers. Ah, the joy of sharing criticisms with fellow backpackers.

Fleck

Sab

After getting to know each other, we managed to find couple common interests. Well, one really matters. Football. One thing I'll miss from traveling is that, almost all countries outside of US have mad passion for the game of football. Even Japan has more Premier League, Serie A, and League Espanol followers than in the states. The question "whose your team" comes up in almost every conversation. It's a world-wide ice breaker. (I'm thinking of a phrase in Japan that can play the same role but can't think of one... well, this justifies the Japanese culture of hikikomori, neet, and otaku. Bam, I just hit 3 otakus with one stone. 「こんにちは、貴方のサッカーチームはどれですか？」。無理がある。)

Back to Fleck and Sab (why do I drift off topic in this blog..). The day we met was also the day of a friendly match between Austria Vienna and FLF. Yes, aka the most random game in football history. For Austria Vienna, it was their 100th anniversary since club establishment. For FLF, which stands for Friends of Luis Figo, it was a match to raise money for charity. By the way Luis Figo is a Portuguese ex Real Madrid player. He played for Inter Milan during the peak of his career, and he's also respected for being the Portuguese captain who helped the country get constant Ws during their golden age. Them being Austrian, and me being an ex-semi-Figo fan (I supported him enough to have his jersey), we decided to go to a sports bar/cafe to watch the game. Perhaps it wasn't the most exciting game to speculate after watching the Barca v ManU championship in Egypt.. especially because the average age of players were about 67. Felt like watching the senior Olympic.. in slow motion. Figo, who is around 40 himself brought his old "friends" to play along with him. Austria Vienna on the other hand is the number 2 team in the Austrian Football League, with handful of promising youngsters who are candidates to be on the national team roster for the 2014 World Cup. So the result was forseeable. By half time the score was 3-0 for Vienna. A friendly match means fan service is everything, so starting the second half Vienna started throwing in old, retired players as well (most of them are legendary players of the club). By the 60th minute, the match turned into an old-men match that you see in parks every Sundays. It was sort of awkward watching old, fat men chasing a ball for 90 minutes. So many scenes where the three of us would just hide our face in embarrassment and wonder why we're still watching. But well, it was a nice bonding time.

Bike Ride
Fleck, Sab, and I came up with a master plan. Rather than hiking all the valleys, why not bike it all. So that’s all it took for us to go to a rental shop and borrow 3 mountain bikes for a day (8 hours). Oh, by the way I didn’t know at the time that the two are huge BMX fans and frequently goes mountain biking back home. I just thought we’re going for a cruise.

Lunch Break

The wine and the farewell
After returning back to Ufuk hostel and taking turns taking showers, we just relaxed in the terrace for a while and then ordered dinner. We felt bad for not spending any money and not contributing to the already small Goreme economy. So we ordered 3 “Turkish Omlete” that the owner claims is his specialty and the best in town. I’m no chef or food critic, but I’m pretty sure even I could of made something similar.. well to be optimistic for once, the atmosphere and the satisfaction of contributing to the hostel business was definitely worth the price. After dinner it was still bright outside (even though it was like 8pm), so we decided to go for a walk in the city before my bus departure at 10. The walk was actually a secondary objective. Our main one was to buy a bottle of Cappadocian wine and drink it while watching the sunset. Might have been the most romantic time for me in months. It was unfortunate that we only had an hour and a half to chat, because we got into a very interesting conversation.. from tourism, to Japanese people, to Austrian politics. I’ve never had such an open conversation about sensitive topics with Europeans, and it’s been forever since I laughed from top of my lungs.

Appreciate the posing Sab.

Last scene of Cappadocia