EYE of the World Crew Journal - Amanda: February 2011

Friday, February 25, 2011

This Language I DO Know

In previous countries it was often obvious that I was a foreigner and therefore probably didn't speak the local language. Here in Poland though, I blend in a little more. So well in fact, that sometimes people will start up a conversation with me in Polish, to which I reply, 'I'm sorry, I only speak English!' However, this morning I went to a place here in Warsaw where I knew the language- a coffee shop.

Filtry Cafe was recommended to me by some locals I met while staying at a hostel. They said that if I wanted good espresso, I should go to Filtry. So I did. I've worked in a couple different coffee shops, and I really enjoy both the environment of cafes and drinking delicious coffee. Walking into a coffee shop is a comfortable experience for me. There's the immediate smell of coffee, the sound of espresso beans being ground, the hiss of a steam wand as the barista makes drinks. It's all very pleasant, and Filtry Cafe was a great place to get some things done this morning! The americano and chocolate-banana muffin didn't hurt, either.

The Search for Used Bookstores: Warsaw Edition

My third day in Warsaw turned into a search for a used bookstore. But, surprise! I was looking to sell this time, not buy. When you're carrying everything you have on your back, the goal becomes to make it as light as possible. I picked up a series of seven books in Australia, and was only on book four when we left Galle. In my stubborness, I decided to carry the remaining books with me and sell them as I went.

I finished book four and passed that on to Matt. Pack lighter. Book five was really big and a hardback to boot, but I finished it in part thanks to the many hours spent on buses in Turkey. I was able to sell it (for a measly 5 lira) at the Book Bazaar section of the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. (Apologies for not writing a post about that experience; the Grand Bazaar is a really cool place, and I only discovered the book bazaar on my second to last day there! Probably a good thing...) Pack lighter still.

On to book six, which was about half the size of book five (but still heavy in the bottom of my pack.) The series is one of my favorites (yes, I have read them before... I like rereading good books!) but the incentive of a lighter pack is also hard to deny. Any spare moment spent on a bus, I read; I also enjoy reading at least a few pages before going to sleep at night. I finished book six in the Ukraine, but couldn't find a place to sell it. So I packed it for the trip to Poland, hoping to find a good used bookstore but telling myself I would take it no further than the city of Warsaw.

So, once settled in a hostel, I began planning where I wanted to visit in Warsaw. It was easy to work in some used bookstores; there are interesting things scattered all around the city and lots of little side streets to walk down. I ended up finding and going into more bookshops than I intended.

The first one I went to didn't exist. Well, maybe it does, but I couldn't find it and people in the area hadn't heard of it. The second one I happened upon purely by accident. It was very cluttered, as only the best bookstores are, but the owner didn't wish to buy any books. Understandable, considering the piles of books she already had. There was even a small English section.

The owner of the second shop wrote down an address for me, but I barely glanced at it. I was still finding my way around and hadn't gotten the layout of the city just yet; if I deviated from my route I might get lost. I would look up the address that night and go to it the next day. Little did I realize that the address was on my route! Streets change names almost every block it seems, and I was on the street with the third bookstore without even knowing it! Sadly, this was a new bookshop only and they didn't buy used books, either. But I was directed right across the street and behind a bus stop, where I was told there was an actual used bookstore!

This seemed promising, but the owner kindly informed me that they only bought antique books. When I inquired about the existence of a used bookshop in the area, he said there was one right around the corner... but he also owned that one and wasn't really interested in my book.

I soon passed another chain bookstore, this one called 'American Bookstore.' I went inside. I can't help it - I love books. This one was stocked entirely with English language books, and although there was a number I would like to read, I'm in no hurry to add more weight to my pack when I've worked so hard to make it lighter.

It was getting darker and colder by the minute, so I decided to head back to my hostel (with a stop on the way for dinner/a lesson in Polish at Bambino Milk Bar). One last bookstore caught my eye, but it wasn't because of the books. There was a cat, sleeping on a stack of books! I went inside to pet him, and got a sleepy purr in response.

In the end, I donated my book to the hostel I'm staying at. It's a new hostel and they already have a collection going; hopefully someone will pick it up and enjoy it as much as I have. The weight will be in their pack then, not mine!

No Words

When we decided to stop traveling on the WTP, I had mixed emotions. Part of me was glad. It meant that we wouldn't have to tackle the many long crossings still ahead on our route, including those infested with pirates; there would be no more storms to battle; we would get to see a bunch of cities in Europe; I would see my dog sooner. An equal part of me was incredibly sad. I miss being rocked to sleep at anchor, the dolphins playing at our bow, getting better at manning dock lines, and yes, I even miss the surge of adrenaline that comes with being on deck during a storm.

On the flight from Colombo, Sri Lanka to Istanbul, Turkey, I was contemplative and prone to short spells of 'sorry, there's just something in my eye...' The sense of things being unfinished was strong and it was tough to think about continuing onwards by land, even though I was also genuinely excited about where the road would take us in Europe. Matt and I had to leave because our visas expired the next day, but even so the temptation was there to get back on the train and return to Galle, and just keep sailing. Once in Istanbul, I found myself still noticing things that matter greatly when you're living on a boat - dark clouds, the wind, the price of pasta - but not so much when you're living out of the pack on your back.

It eventually became easier to think of ourselves as land tourists, but I still miss the days of stepping onto land after days on the boat. You just feel so awesome. There's a certain sense of pride that comes from not showering in days, getting woken up in the middle of the night for your watch, and donning foulies when the weather gets wet. As sailors and cruisers I felt that we were miles apart from the 'regular' tourists who shared some of the same destinations as us. They could go back to their hotel room, take a hot shower, and get into a clean bed. Most times, I rushed through a cold shower, was content to find a cold Coke, and returned at night to a bed that never seemed to get completely dry. It was great.

Another big part of cruising was the community we instantly became part of. We saw the same boats and the same people, and we all got to know each other. From Australia to Thailand we hung with the same pack. We were the youngest crew, and received much good-natured teasing because of it; a fellow sailor told us that we were known among the other boats simply as 'the Americans.'

That sense of community, and really knowing what it's like to live on a boat and have it be your home, makes the news of the s/v Quest hit that much harder. The four aboard - Scott and Jean Adam, Phyllis Macay, and Bob Riggle - were captured when their boat was hijacked on February 19th off the coast of Oman during their crossing from Cochin, India to Salalah. Today, February 22, all four were killed by the pirates. Details are surfacing of what happened, and I expect more will continue to emerge in the days and weeks to come. Knowing details won't make this news any easier, especially for their families and friends. I can only hope that the other boats currently making this crossing, or those planning to make it, will take all the precautions they can and make it safely to wherever their destination lies.

'A bar?! What is the EYEotW crew thinking, going to a bar and posting about it?' Well, dear readers, I have been going to a bar. A milk bar.

A milk bar, or bar mleczny, is a place to get fast, good Polish food for cheap. They're a holdover from the days of communism, and were created by authorities as places for workers to get a cheap meal between shifts. There are still many of them today, and even one on the posh Nowy Swiat, an upscale road that runs through the middle of Warsaw to the Old Town.

The one that I like the best so far is right around the corner from the hostel I'm staying at, and is called Bambino Bar. The ladies who work here are a bit more cheerful than at other milk bars, and the guy at the register even speaks English. But speaking English isn't the point of my frequent trips to these delicious eateries. The opposite, actually. I have a mission: by the end of the week, I will be able to go into a milk bar and order dinner. Entirely in Polish.

Here's the main obstacle to this mission: the menu. It's huge (which is good, because it means more food to try) but it's also in Polish, which is a confusing language with a lot of crazy letters tacked on to words. There's a lot to learn and I better get started right now... with lunch.

To be continued...

Istanbul Revisited

Our lap of Turkey was complete once we arrived back in Istanbul. It was nice to come back to a city I already knew because I could look forward to seeing some favorite things again, and going back to places I missed the first time around. In Istanbul, I:

Went into the Basilica Cistern, and tried to take a self portrait in the dark.

Found one Medusa head, sideways. (Look closely, she's smiling.)

Found the second Medusa head, purposefully placed upside down.

Stayed with a friend who had a cute cat named Tika.

Appreciated good color schemes.

Watched tiny bunnies eat corn on the cob, and then petted them.

Tried ayram. Didn't like it. Gave it to a cat.

Went on a walking tour of some of the city's mosques; this one was smallest.

Forgot the name of the smallest one.

Looked up at the main dome in Süleymaniye Mosque.

Looked up at one of the little domes in Süleymaniye Mosque.

Followed a well-worn path into Şehzade Mosque.

Decided my camera doesn't do Şehzade justice.

Tried to capture its magnificence again anyways.

Was happy to see people still praying in Fatih Mosque amid the scaffolding.

Was startled to see cars passing under the the Valens Aqueduct.

Observed a cat sleeping in a weird spot.

Found a fenced-in park where cats can run free!

Admired the often overlooked Million Stone.

Read a book in the sun in Gülhane Park.

Was confused by the presence of parrots in Gülhane Park.

Found out where cats are grown!!

Ate some Turkish delight.

Ate a durum döner.

Watched the sunset light up the Hagia Sophia.

Admired the Blue Mosque from far away.

Listened to the Call to Prayer as the sun set.

Finally saw a Kurdish Van Cat!

... And her kittens. :)

Istanbul is a busy, vibrant place with lots of rich history and culture. Turkey is an amazing country, and I would love to come back and spend even more time here someday!

Selçuk

Selçuk was our fourth town. We were actually headed to the city of Izmir, but ended up staying in Selçuk the whole time. It was smaller, quieter, and very nice; I learned the little shortcuts around town fairly quickly. And after Göreme, Selçuk felt downright hot! It was really nice to walk around in just a fleece jacket, and feel the sun warming my face. Plus, we saw lots of amazing things! In Selçuk, I:

Petted a camel.