Day 605 of 605

I certainly took the long way around, but after more than 30 countries and 605 days of circumnavigation, I've returned home having traversed 360 longitudinal degrees to arrive at the beginning where I started. So after all those adventures and all that distance covered, you may wonder, what have I learned? Glad you asked. I'll tell you:

I've learned to think in moderation.

I've learned things always work out eventually.

I've learned less is more. There is no material object I possess that I couldn't live without if I tried. (Yes, even toilet paper. Not ideal, but possible.)

I've learned a diet high in refined sugar and processed flour makes me sluggish.

I've learned I have friends and family who believe me capable of world conquest. Thank you all for your support and encouragement. Even when I was alone in a strange, unfamiliar place, I never felt like it. Because I knew you were each only a Skype call, e-mail, or Facebook comment away. I knew I could do this, because you knew I could.

I've learned smiling is more effective than raising my voice.

I've learned how to count to ten in Chinese.

I've learned not to fear the unknown. Each time I prepared to enter a new region, I was terrified. China? So scary. Until I was in China. Then I loved it. Time for India. India? So scary! What will become of me?? Oh wait... Love India, too. Europe? What will I wear??? You get the idea. Leave your comfort zone. It's nice out there.

I've learned how to surf.

I've learned traveling alone is easier, but sometimes traveling with someone is worth the hassle.

I've learned humans are inherently good. No infant is born racist or misogynist. It's not natural. It is taught and later exploited in times of fear. It is human instinct to help. Everywhere I've gone, good people have appeared and made themselves my champions.

I've learned not to analyze the world so much. When I first began, I would come to a new place and try to make pithy, Bill Bryson-esque observations about the quirks of each culture I visited. But around the 9th or 10th country, everyone started blending together into one continuous flow of humanity until all I could see was our similarities. The sun comes up. The sun goes down. In between, we all wake up and get to work. Whether it's from a rice field or an office high-rise, we go home at the end of the day and have dinner with our families. We enjoy a little music - either on iPods or hand-crafted instruments - and then we try to get some sleep so we have the energy to repeat the process in the morning.

And I, the tireless road warrior, on my great epic journey through distant lands, found myself in envy of these banal routines. I began to long for a morning when I might wake up, walk to work, stop along the way at my usual coffee shop where the barrista already knows my order, and not once wonder where the hell I'm going to sleep tonight.

So that's what I want you all to know: you're adventurers, too. Going on about your life, taking things as they come, having one experience after the next - that's all wayfaring is. Your geographic location makes no difference. Every time you learn something new, meet someone new, or taste a dish you were sure you'd hate, you're living. That's living.

Like I said, I've traversed 360 longitudinal degrees to arrive at the beginning.

I've learned the 361st degree is always the best.

Day 603: London, A True English Hostess

Generally speaking, the dullest part of the Olympic opening ceremonies comes towards the end when the teams march around for hours while the commentator announces the arrival of nations like "Equatorial Guinea!" and "Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia!" Many viewers choose to nap here until the torch is lit, but not me. Because this year I'm in London - the final stop on my world tour - and roughly 30 of those teams came from countries I've visited over the past year and a half. They traveled just as far as me to be here, and watching them walk that track one after another was like a retrospective of my journey.

I never planned to come here during the Olympics - that's just how it worked out - but right from the beginning, it was an unavoidable force of nature. A bed in an 18-share dorm was going for £55 ($87) per night, and the Jordanian Olympic team was on the same flight as me out of Amman. It continued on from there. Walking the South Bank of the Thames towards the Tower Bridge, I passed Matt Lauer and Al Roker broadcasting live for the Today Show, and a few minutes later I passed Danny DeVito... except I don't know what he has to do with the Olympics...

I did touristy things (Big Ben, St Paul's Cathedral) and local things (market shopping and pints with friends). I even saw the new face of London, breaking the daily fast of Ramadan with traditional cuisine (courtesy of my Iraqi family), but the Olympics would not leave me be. On an innocent jaunt past Buckingham Palace to see the changing of the guard, I noticed a gathering crowd and stayed to see William, Kate, Harry, and the Great Britain team greet the Olympic torch as it passed.

This was all good fun, but I had to get out of town. I took a day trip to Oxford to tour the 1,000-year-old campus, with special influence on Harry Potter filming sites. Then it was off to Bath to pay homage to Jane Austen. Scones and tea were had. Finally, a quick walk around Stonehenge, and I left rather enchanted with the western counties.

Back in Londontown, the Olympics were in full swing. The global capital was even more global than usual, and I could go an hour or two downtown without hearing a single English accent. Out in the residential areas, though, it was business as usual. A couple of friends took me to a local pub for Sunday roast and recruited me for quiz night where we brought in a respectable bronze. Olympics or none, London definitely places in my list of world-class cities, and I hope to return some day to experience their hospitality again.

Day 595: Arabian Nights

You all know me. I'm not the type of person to book an organized package tour. But I wanted to see the marvels of the Middle East, and while I consider myself an intrepid traveler, even I have my limits. So, yes, I joined a group tour. I braced myself for 17 days of obnoxious tourists, overloaded itineraries, and forced shopping. 

Praise be to Allah, I experienced no such thing. Our guides were fantastic, there was plenty of chill-out time between activities, and with the rare exception, my fellow travelers were adventurous, open-minded, and good-humored. I had expected to be sick of them after 2 1/2 weeks. Instead, our last day brought a torrent of tears. After crossing the desert together from the Nile to the Holy Land, sweating our way from Cairo to Amman on every mode of transport from train to donkey, going our separate ways was a bittersweet conclusion to our journey. 

And what did we see during our wanderings in the wilderness? If I may, a few highlights:

Day 1
I arrive in Cairo, which is completely safe. All the locals want to talk about is their new democracy. They're so proud. "Things will be better now," they all say. "We have a president!" The Egyptians are positively basking in revolutionary honeymoon glow.

In other news, I miss the Welcome/Orientation meeting. Off to a good start. 

Day 2
Agenda items: Pyramids at Giza, Sphinx, Egyptian Museum
I get my first real dose of Egyptian summer heat. Sweat through my clothes by 9:30am. See King Tutankhamen's treasures at the museum. Can't believe I'm standing in front of that blue and gold mask I used to see every day on the cover of my 6th-grade geography book. No shower tonight since we're sleeping on a train. 

Day 3
Agenda items: Nile, Nubian village
  Get off the train in Aswan, down-home southern Egypt, the heart of Nubia, just a few hours from Sudan. Our hotel room overlooks the Nile, which is outlined with green plant life and frequented by sailing vessels, with only desert sand beyond the green border, just as I imagined it. Lunch is traditional fare in a Nubian village where all the houses are bright blue despite the constant sun-bleaching. 

Day 4
Agenda items: ...
Group wakes up at 3:30am to visit Abu Simbel. But not me. I sleep and stare at the Nile from my balcony. (I need do-nothing days occasionally.)

Day 5
Agenda items: Sail the Nile
We board feluccas and sail down the Nile all day, stopping only once to swim. There are cushions to lounge upon, loads of scenery, and a pleasant breeze. Utter bliss. 

Day 6
Agenda items: Kom Ombo Temple, Edfu Temple
It is blistering hot, but I don't think I've ever seen anything cooler. The temples feature Egyptian murals and script with grand imperial Greek columns. Evening is spent sipping cold, fresh juice at a rooftop pool in Luxor, where they coined the term "luxury." 

Day 7
Agenda items: Donkey ride, Valley of the Kings, Temple of Queen Hatshepsut
Riding a donkey is like riding a jackhammer. I lose a flip-flop, and my trusty steed Ali Baba envelops me in a bush while stopping to snack. I walk bow-legged like a cowboy for the rest of the day. 

Day 8
Agenda items: Citadel, Mosque, Old Town Market
Lunch in Khan Khalili becomes legendary when a surprise birthday extravaganza breaks out for the male half of the honeymooning couple, Jan and Alyssa. What starts as cake, quickly snowballs to involve Arabic pop music blasted on giant speakers and fireworks set off dangerously close to human flesh. It is a true spectacle. 

Day 9
Agenda items: Chill at Red Sea resort
We cross the lawless Sinai peninsula in our van, driving under the Suez Canal while an ocean liner passes through. Arriving at our beach resort on the Red Sea, we spend the day swimming and snorkeling, and the evening throwing our own beach-side dance party. 

Day 10
Agenda items: see Day 8
More relaxing, more snorkeling. The resort manager helps me conquer my fear of jellyfish while guiding me around a nearby reef. The fish, coral, and transparent, purple jellyfish are all gorgeous. 

Day 11
Agenda items: Ferry crossing to Jordan
I am gutted to learn a pair of American tourists were kidnapped driving across Sinai a mere hour behind us. That should've been me!

On the ferry, Danish Caroline and I are stopped by a gaggle of Egyptian women wanting their picture taken with us. I'm used to that by now. What am I not used to? Emerging from a toilet stall to see one woman giving another an injection in her backside. 

Day 12
Agenda items: Wadi Friggin' Rum
I used to think deserts were hellish, barren wastelands bent on human destruction, but spending a full day and night amid the stark beauty of the Wadi Rum has converted me. We serpentine across the rust-colored moonscape in 4x4's before bedding down in Bedouin tents for the night. 

Day 13
Agenda items: Little Petra
Upon arrival in the town of Petra, Spanish Elisa and I are so excited about tomorrow's exploration of the ancient Nabotean site, we sing the Indiana Jones theme on a loop. 

Day 14
Agenda items: Petra, Petra, and more Petra
Wake up at 5am to reach Petra first thing before the other tour groups show up. We are there for the next 10 hours. Walking through the ravine towards that first sight of the Treasury is stunning. At night, do we rest? Of course not. Time for a rooftop dance party. 

Day 15
Agenda items: Karak Castle, Dead Sea
More than 400m below sea level, the Dead Sea is hot, even for July in the Middle East. The air feels heavy and the water could boil tea. Nevertheless, we dutifully enter and bob on the water's surface like beach balls. Oddly enough, it's actually more comfortable floating in the salty sea than standing on its edge. Until I get out and notice sections of my skin feel like they've been splashed with acid. 

Day 16
Agenda items: Mt Nebo, Amman's Rainbow Street
From the top of Mount Nebo, Moses saw the Promised Land and passed away. Today we see only haze, but on a clear day supposedly visitors can see all the way to Jerusalem. I'm only now realizing how much of the Bible took place in this region. Once in Amman, we have our own "last supper" at a trendy expat cafe where Ramadan is optional and shisha is plentiful. 

Day 17
Agenda items: Keep it together
The day is nothing but long goodbyes. Travelers leave for the airport in threes and fours until our numbers dwindle to nothing and we've scattered back to the winds. The adventure is over. I'll miss the desert. I'll miss the shisha. I'll miss the calls to prayer. And against all expectations, I'll miss these people. Within any luck we'll meet again on the desert sand under the cloak of an Arabian night. Inshallah. 

Day 595: Arabian Nights

You all know me. I'm not the type of person to book an organized package tour. But I wanted to see the marvels of the Middle East, and while I consider myself an intrepid traveler, even I have my limits. So, yes, I joined a group tour. I braced myself for 17 days of obnoxious tourists, overloaded itineraries, and forced shopping. 

Praise be to Allah, I experienced no such thing. Our guides were fantastic, there was plenty of chill-out time between activities, and with the rare exception, my fellow travelers were adventurous, open-minded, and good-humored. I had expected to be sick of them after 2 1/2 weeks. Instead, our last day brought a torrent of tears. After crossing the desert together from the Nile to the Holy Land, sweating our way from Cairo to Amman on every mode of transport from train to donkey, going our separate ways was a bittersweet conclusion to our journey. 

And what did we see during our wanderings in the wilderness? If I may, a few highlights:

Day 1
I arrive in Cairo, which is completely safe. All the locals want to talk about is their new democracy. They're so proud. "Things will be better now," they all say. "We have a president!" The Egyptians are positively basking in revolutionary honeymoon glow.

In other news, I miss the Welcome/Orientation meeting. Off to a good start. 

Day 2
Agenda items: Pyramids at Giza, Sphinx, Egyptian Museum
I get my first real dose of Egyptian summer heat. Sweat through my clothes by 9:30am. See King Tutankhamen's treasures at the museum. Can't believe I'm standing in front of that blue and gold mask I used to see every day on the cover of my 6th-grade geography book. No shower tonight since we're sleeping on a train. 

Day 3
Agenda items: Nile, Nubian village
  Get off the train in Aswan, down-home southern Egypt, the heart of Nubia, just a few hours from Sudan. Our hotel room overlooks the Nile, which is outlined with green plant life and frequented by sailing vessels, with only desert sand beyond the green border, just as I imagined it. Lunch is traditional fare in a Nubian village where all the houses are bright blue despite the constant sun-bleaching. 

Day 4
Agenda items: ...
Group wakes up at 3:30am to visit Abu Simbel. But not me. I sleep and stare at the Nile from my balcony. (I need do-nothing days occasionally.)

Day 5
Agenda items: Sail the Nile
We board feluccas and sail down the Nile all day, stopping only once to swim. There are cushions to lounge upon, loads of scenery, and a pleasant breeze. Utter bliss. 

Day 6
Agenda items: Kom Ombo Temple, Edfu Temple
It is blistering hot, but I don't think I've ever seen anything cooler. The temples feature Egyptian murals and script with grand imperial Greek columns. Evening is spent sipping cold, fresh juice at a rooftop pool in Luxor, where they coined the term "luxury." 

Day 7
Agenda items: Donkey ride, Valley of the Kings, Temple of Queen Hatshepsut
Riding a donkey is like riding a jackhammer. I lose a flip-flop, and my trusty steed Ali Baba envelops me in a bush while stopping to snack. I walk bow-legged like a cowboy for the rest of the day. 

Day 8
Agenda items: Citadel, Mosque, Old Town Market
Lunch in Khan Khalili becomes legendary when a surprise birthday extravaganza breaks out for the male half of the honeymooning couple, Jan and Alyssa. What starts as cake, quickly snowballs to involve Arabic pop music blasted on giant speakers and fireworks set off dangerously close to human flesh. It is a true spectacle. 

Day 9
Agenda items: Chill at Red Sea resort
We cross the lawless Sinai peninsula in our van, driving under the Suez Canal while an ocean liner passes through. Arriving at our beach resort on the Red Sea, we spend the day swimming and snorkeling, and the evening throwing our own beach-side dance party. 

Day 10
Agenda items: see Day 8
More relaxing, more snorkeling. The resort manager helps me conquer my fear of jellyfish while guiding me around a nearby reef. The fish, coral, and transparent, purple jellyfish are all gorgeous. 

Day 11
Agenda items: Ferry crossing to Jordan
I am gutted to learn a pair of American tourists were kidnapped driving across Sinai a mere hour behind us. That should've been me!

On the ferry, Danish Caroline and I are stopped by a gaggle of Egyptian women wanting their picture taken with us. I'm used to that by now. What am I not used to? Emerging from a toilet stall to see one woman giving another an injection in her backside. 

Day 12
Agenda items: Wadi Friggin' Rum
I used to think deserts were hellish, barren wastelands bent on human destruction, but spending a full day and night amid the stark beauty of the Wadi Rum has converted me. We serpentine across the rust-colored moonscape in 4x4's before bedding down in Bedouin tents for the night. 

Day 13
Agenda items: Little Petra
Upon arrival in the town of Petra, Spanish Elisa and I are so excited about tomorrow's exploration of the ancient Nabotean site, we sing the Indiana Jones theme on a loop. 

Day 14
Agenda items: Petra, Petra, and more Petra
Wake up at 5am to reach Petra first thing before the other tour groups show up. We are there for the next 10 hours. Walking through the ravine towards that first sight of the Treasury is stunning. At night, do we rest? Of course not. Time for a rooftop dance party. 

Day 15
Agenda items: Karak Castle, Dead Sea
More than 400m below sea level, the Dead Sea is hot, even for July in the Middle East. The air feels heavy and the water could boil tea. Nevertheless, we dutifully enter and bob on the water's surface like beach balls. Oddly enough, it's actually more comfortable floating in the salty sea than standing on its edge. Until I get out and notice sections of my skin feel like they've been splashed with acid. 

Day 16
Agenda items: Mt Nebo, Amman's Rainbow Street
From the top of Mount Nebo, Moses saw the Promised Land and passed away. Today we see only haze, but on a clear day supposedly visitors can see all the way to Jerusalem. I'm only now realizing how much of the Bible took place in this region. Once in Amman, we have our own "last supper" at a trendy expat cafe where Ramadan is optional and shisha is plentiful. 

Day 17
Agenda items: Keep it together
The day is nothing but long goodbyes. Travelers leave for the airport in threes and fours until our numbers dwindle to nothing and we've scattered back to the winds. The adventure is over. I'll miss the desert. I'll miss the shisha. I'll miss the calls to prayer. And against all expectations, I'll miss these people. Within any luck we'll meet again on the desert sand under the cloak of an Arabian night. Inshallah. 

Day 574: ClooneyWatch 2012

"And this is a tour you can actually book?"

"Sure," he said, "the boat goes right up to his house."

There are few moments when I feel sorry for celebrities, but if I were George Clooney and I went to the trouble of buying a holiday home in a sparsely-frequented village on the shore of Lake Como, and someone started running ferry tours so strangers could peer into my sunroom, I'd be pissed. 

When I arrived at Lake Como, I was struck with the sheer serenity of the place. Relaxation is top-priority, and to this end vacationers come from around the world to this lake in the mountains at the border of Italy and Switzerland to sail, kayak, and browse the boutique shops of the many charming villages punctuating the shoreline. The average age skews towards the older end, so there's a distinct absence of nightlife that goes along with the tranquility. Amber from Los Angeles told me she went in search of drinks after dark and found only one bar open. 

"It was well lit," she said, crestfallen, "and there were children. I wound up getting gelato instead."

Luckily the hostel offered drink specials. So the other single travelers and I (all women in the 25-34 bracket) quickly fell into a strenuous routine of breakfast, village-hopping, coffee-sipping, sun-bathing, lake-swimming, dinner, and drinks, with two to three daily doses of gelato interspersed between activities. It was like summer camp, except, the way it should have been. And we had the added satisfaction of knowing we were having the same fabulous celebrity vacation experience as everyone else but for a pittance. 

"Hang on," said Leigh from Melbourne, one evening over Aperol spritzers on the patio, "does anyone know if George is in town?"

"Yes!" said Nicole from Sydney. "My friend e-mailed to tell me he was spotted at a restaurant in Lagio on Friday."

"I saw a helicopter go over this afternoon," said Sarah from Wellington, "and I just knew it was him."

Before the night was over, a scheme was devised to rent scooters, hover down to Clooney's house like a swarm of bees, and draw the A-list star out of his villa by shouting and holding up posters that said, "WE LUV U, GEORGE!" The plan was flawless.

Unfortunately, somewhere between reading paperbacks and munching on prosciutto & arugula pizzas, our brilliant plan fell by the wayside. We reconvened the following evening over a liter of vino bianco to watch the sun set over the mountain lake and discuss the status of Clooney Watch 2012.

"Did anyone spot Giorgio today?" said Leigh. 

Head shakes all around. 

"We'll do better tomorrow."

Heads nod vehemently. 

The next evening during half-time of the Italy v. Germany match, the same question was posed. 

"Any Clooney sightings?"

No luck. On the final evening during our farewell dinner, we touched on the subject one last time. 

"You know, really," said Sarah, "he could be in any car or motorbike passing by. We've probably each seen him a dozen times..."

Sarah was a special Clooney devotee, so naturally we all conceded to her on this point, as she probably possessed a subtle cosmic connection with the actor resulting from tireless adoration. Personally, my feeling is that bumping into George Clooney on holiday would be cool, but knowing I holiday in the same exotic locales as George Clooney is priceless. Even if I do sleep in a bunk bed, instead of a villa, the gelato tastes just as sweet. 

Day 563: The Other Coast

Greece, Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia-Hercegovina, and Croatia line the Adriatic coast of the Balkans, and while most of these names don't bring to mind the phrase "summer holiday" so much as "ethnic cleansing," I must say I was pleasantly surprised. Special honors go to Montenegro and Croatia for supplying charming seaside towns with quaint churches, walled citadels, and harbors filled with ivory yachts. 

I hope no one will blame me if after several months in Europe I reached my quota on churches and opted instead to focus on beaches and gelato. I managed to squeeze out one more hike up to the fort overlooking the Bay of Kotor, but after nearly losing consciousness, I declared a moratorium on castles as well. Plus, all the history is starting to run together. I'd rather just enjoy the swimming in sapphire waters and wandering medieval alleyways. So that's what I did. 

Not terribly eventful, but enchanting nonetheless. The only special occasion going on was the UEFA football championships, so the Croatians were out in full fan gear on game days. Also, I developed an appreciation for rocky beaches over sand beaches. In places like Kotor, Dubrovnik, and Hvar Island, the coast is all rock, so you walk down steps to smoothed platforms in the stone where you can lay out in the sun or hop into the sea to swim. Added advantage: sand doesn't get into all your stuff! 

But that's about it. I definitely recommend it if anyone is looking for an affordable European vacay. Next stop: Italy.

Day 543: In Ruins

In western Europe, I thought Renaissance was old. In eastern Europe, I realized, no, medieval is old. But since arriving in the land of Odysseus, Herodotus, and Leonidas, my mind is short-circuiting from trying to fathom how long ago these places were inhabited. And the weird thing is the more ancient Greek and Roman ruins I explore, the more familiar these people's lives seem. It's almost surreal to know they were chilling in libraries, attending local government meetings, and squeezing into bleachers at sporting events before they'd even figured out how to harness the power of steam. 

Spanning from inland Turkey to the mountains of Greece, here are some highlights of my jaunt through the Hellenic world:

Pamukkale
Probably considered a remote outpost of the empire, the Romans did what they could to make Pamukkale feel like home. It has all the requisite features - an agora for trading and assembling, an amphitheater cut into the hillside, and of course, a public latrine - but Pamukkale's trademark is the white cliffs pocketed with terraced pools brimming with springwater from the travertines above. The Romans knew how to pick a location. 

Ephesus
On the Aegean coast of Turkey, Ephesus was a harbor town and central hub in Roman times. Ephesus was so big it needed two theaters - one for gladiatorial competitions and one for council meetings and musical performances. The site's crown jewel, though, is the Celsus Library with a grand facade of columns and statues that illustrates how highly the citizens valued the pursuit of knowledge. Also of note, some big names in early Christian history passed through Ephesus, including Saint Paul, Saint John, and Mary herself, who lived out her days on a hilltop just outside the city. 

Athens
The birthplace of western civilization! Philosophy! Theatre! Civics! and... toppled stone blocks? It was difficult at times to imagine the bustling metropolis that was once the center of the world, but once I got a sense for the layout of the old city, I could see where people would have walked across the agora to attend a concert at the odeon or through a particular avenue to reach the library. Easier to picture thanks to reconstruction was the Panathenaic Arena, home to the games that would later become the basis for our Olympics. And crowning the whole scene is the Acropolis with its center piece, the Parthenon. Ravaged not so much by time as turmoil, the Parthenon has changed allegiance each time it changed hands, serving in turn as a temple to Athena, a basilica to Our Lady, and a mosque complete with minaret. It was even bombed by Venetian cannonballs in 1687, and later raided by the English for their British Museum collection of artifacts. Nevertheless, the outer frame still stands today to receive her pilgrims, though now they come bearing cameras instead of offerings. 

Delphi
Here's where the ancient Greeks get a little kooky. Set into the hillside of Mount Parnassus, Delphi was known to be the "navel of the world," with a stone marking the exact spot of Mother Earth's belly button. It was here within a temple at the Sanctuary of Apollo where the famed Oracle of Delphi, also called the Pythia, would deliver her prophecies. Rulers from city-states across Greece would travel to Delphi with votive offerings for the Pythia, who was usually an older woman from the local area. On prophecy days, she would stand over a crack in the earth that emitted ethanol vapors and enter a trance from which she could voice the word of the god Apollo. Since Apollo's word usually came out garbled and shrieked, priests were always on hand to translate the Pythia's rants into intelligible prophecies. And this is how matters of state were handled for centuries until the Romans took over and politely (and understandably) declined the Oracle's counsel. 

It's eerie to walk amongst the remains of a society that had so much influence on us. Even little things like months of the year - e.g. July and August - betray signs of Roman authority. I think it's an especially poignant experience for Americans, whose philosophies are so heavily modeled on classical Greek ideals of democracy and civic duty. I'll even say for Christians in general, whose core beliefs didn't really catch on until they were filtered through the perspectives and traditions of the Greek and Roman Gentiles. It's everywhere you look, really, and so ingrained that we barely notice it. But it all started here, on the coast and throughout the islands of the Aegean Sea. So while the structures may be in ruins, and modern-day Greece may be in shambles, their ancestors' contribution to contemporary humanity remains stoic and intact as a marble column.