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After a week in Barcelona, we drove south down the coast a few hours to a town called Peñíscola. We intended to stay a few days and move on, potentially driving all the way to Seville.

But the kids act like 2 hours in the car is torture, and our air BNB in Peñíscola was great, and there was a lot to see in the area, and our rental car was due back in Barcelona (so we would have to return north anyway), and the thought of not having to pack up our stuff for a few weeks all combined to keep us in this beautiful little town.

We made a lot of excursions but were still able to take it easy so it worked out great.

Despite being the first Western European country on our trip and arguably the most expensive, our daily expenses (Ashley keeps a detailed log) in Spain proved to be lower than almost all the other countries we’ve visited except Lithuania. Because it was the off season, our lodgings and car rental were significantly cheaper than other times of the year. Our car was only $15/day.

Because we had a car to drive to a decent grocery store and because our Air BNB had a decently equipped kitchen, we ate out relatively little and prepared most meals at home.

And so despite the higher cost of gas, museums, parking, and other services in Spain, we did alright. Even including the speeding ticket I got in Spain, which could have been higher had there been a fine for driving without an international driver’s permit–which was a little bit of a scare when the officer had to call in to find out what to do with an American without the permit. “So many problems” he kept saying and told me several times “I don’t know how it is in your country, but we have rules here.”

But in the end, he discounted the ticket from 300 to 150 Euros and had me pay with a credit card on the spot, so I thanked him and shook his hand and we were on our way (this was still much more expensive than the ticket I got in Georgia for a more serious infraction).

A few more things learned about Spain these few weeks.

Ham (jamon) is a big deal. A really big deal. It does not resemble what Americans refer to as ham at all. It’s dry cured and resembles but is far superior to prosciutto. The most expensive varieties are from a breed of pig called Iberica that is fed almost exclusively acorns. The finest ham can sell for over $200 a pound. Jamon is everywhere. I made sure to eat some every day.

The Spanish take a different approach to business. Many businesses, even large chains shut down for a few hours every day and have much more limited hours than businesses in any country I have been in. So if it’s 7pm and you need some groceries, you might be out of luck until 9am the following day. Or if your want to eat a meal in a restaurant, you better plan to be there between 2 and 4pm or after 7pm.

Although we call the official language of Spain Spanish, Spaniards call it Castellian, and there are several other languages spoken in Spain. For example, although you can speak Castellian with anyone in Barcelona, all the street signs are printed in the local dialect, Catalán, and it is much closer to French than to what I learned in my high school Spanish class. In Valencia, all the signs are printed in Valencian, which looked to me to be equal parts French and Spanish.

Here’s a quick rundown of the towns we visited after Barcelona.

Peñiscola–a town a few hours south of Barcelona right on the Mediterranean. The castle and old town sit on a small peninsula projecting into the sea. Sometimes called the Mykonos of Spain due to its similarity with the famous Greek town. Clearly a summer resort town, the miles and miles of hotels and condos were nearly empty. The highlights in this town were many days spent taking it easy on the park and on the beach and walking through old town.

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Tirig–famous for it’s UNESCO site, Les Coves Dr la Valtorta, a series of cliff side shelters with ancient cave paintings. Highlights were hiking to the caves and exploring the old stone homes and shelters among the terraced fields with almond and olive trees.

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Sant Mateu–a town like so many in this part of Spain with a beautiful central plaza and church and a castle on the hill.

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Valencia–the third largest city in Spain, located right on the coast with way more than could be seen in the day we spent there. But we did experience three of the highlights of the town: paella (people here say Valencia is the home city of this dish and still does it best), beautiful modern architecture, and the Valencia cathedral where you can see (from a small distance) the stone cup that according to tradition is the Holy Grail or cup from which Jesus drank at the Last Supper.

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Morella--on the list of “nicest towns in Spain”, we arrived in Morella after a few hours of slowly winding our way through miles a miles of olive groves. Although it was quite cold and windy, the town surrounded by castle walls was one of the prettiest we’ve seen on our whole trip.

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Prat de Cabanes-Torreblanca–a nature park where Ashley and I took turns walking the beach while the other sat in the sand and watched the kids catch a dozen or so hermit crabs and put them in the “hermit crab sanctuary” they constructed.

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Vilafamés–built into and from the local red sandstone, this town’s castle and stone walls were built by the invading Moors with architecture different from most of the local castles.

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Castellón--the provincial capital. We mostly played in a park and walked around admiring the old buildings and the Christmas decorations. We also enjoyed a meal at a tapas restaurant.

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Vall D’uxó–took a boat ride on “the longest navigable underground river in Europe” in Coves de Sant Josep (no photography allowed).

Tarragona–another provincial capital that we visited on our drive back to Barcelona. This was one of the larger towns we visited and we didn’t spend much time here, but we did enjoy the few hours we spent wandering the old town. At least tied with Morella and Peñíscola in our minds for the prettiest towns we visited.

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It would have been nice to see more of the various areas in Spain, but we had a great time and I’m glad we stayed at a home base for a while. Constant travel is hard on us all and it was nice to change it up a little.

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While I still need to write a catch up post about the last few weeks in Spain, I thought I’d better get ahead and write about where we are currently.

As I write this, it’s Christmas day in Morocco. It doesn’t feel much like Christmas since it’s sunny and warm and there aren’t any Christmas decorations to be seen.

But we’ve had a great family Christmas. The kids woke up to three small presents each, none of them wrapped.

We ran a few errands, rode in the back of a tuk-tuk (our Moroccan one-horse open sleigh), ate a Christmas lunch at McDonald’s, and played in the park.

We followed that with a tour around the city in a horse-drawn carriage and a fresh-squeezed strawberry lemon-ade.

Despite the small haul, and the general lack of most things that remind them of Christmas, my kids say they’ve had a great day. Maybe it’s because we’ve taken a break from homeschooling this week, but they sure seem pleasant all the time despite being so long away from friends, extended family, and familiar food at home.

We arrived in Morocco a week ago. We booked an Airbnb in a riad in the Medina–a traditional Moroccan home in the old part of the city.

A traditional riad is a multi-level home with a central parlor to which all the floors open.

The alleys that lead to the riads are a labarynth of streets paved with brick that are much too narrow for a car.

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What we didn’t realize is that our host lives on the upper floors of this home. We can call up to him or he can call down, so it feels more like being a guest in someone’s home than having a place to our own. He has been very helpful though in showing us around the city and helping arrange taxis and an excursion.

Another thing we hadn’t planned on was having no heat in the house. So even though the days may be sunny and in the 70’s, the nights are cool and the house stays around 55-60 degrees. But there are plenty of blankets so we sleep warm and wear warm clothes in the house.

Morocco has been a step back in time. While the horse-drawn carriages that circle the streets are for the benefit of tourists, there are plenty of donkey carts and horse-drawn carts legitimately used for hauling goods piled high with sacks filled with who-knows-what that fight their way through the streets full of cars, taxis, scooters, mo-peds, and bicycles.

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Food stands sell everything from hot and fresh donuts and bowls of bean soup to roasted sheepshead and a boiled snails in broth.

The market is massive and filled with spice vendors hawking sandalwood, jasmine, royal tea, and secret mixes containing 32 different spices to stores filled with leather bags and slippers.

It’s the most photogenic place I’ve ever been. There are 80-year-old men wearing jilabas peddling rusted bicycles that have to be nearly as old. And women wearing full burkas with just their eyes visible.

And if you drive out of the city into the country you’ll see the steep hillsides terraced into haphazard 1/4 acre plots of land being worked with teams of donkeys in harness. And donkeys piled high with branches walking ahead of their owners (apparently the donkeys know the way and don’t need to be guided, just urged on with a stick). And kids on donkeys galloping down the road (if you can call it a gallop when it’s done by a donkey). And donkeys in harness standing perfectly still in town with their front legs hobbled, waiting for their owners. And women in burkas with massive bundles of weeds gathered from the mountain sides strapped to their backs to carry home to feed their donkeys. And women washing clothes in the river with the surrounding trees holding up the family’s brightly colored laundry while it dries in the sun. And herds of goats and herds of sheep with their shepherd boys following behind.

My biggest disappointment is that I haven’t been able to get very good photos of all these goings on as they have been viewed from the window of a moving car. But it’s been fun to see them.

Ashley, the organized one (well at least when it comes to planning an itenarary), got us set up on a camel excursion into the desert. The excursion was super touristy but super cool.

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Our host helped us arrange for a private driver to take us to a city called Zagoura where we were set to meet up with the camel caravan. Before the six hour ride was over, I think everyone, driver included, was thinking the trip was an error in judgement. The road was rough and wound through snowy mountain passes. Before we were halfway there, each member of our party except me and the driver had stopped to vomit twice. To their credit, as well as to the driver’s, everyone except Margaret managed to direct the business out of the stopped car.

When we FINALLY arrived, we met our guide, Mohammed, and our three camels.

We rode for about an hour and a half, which is about an hour and fifteen minutes longer than the time it takes to learn that riding a camel is going to leave you a little seasick and a little bruised in the groin. But it was awesome nonetheless.

That night we ate a tanjine dinner, listened to traditional songs by a campfire, climbed the surrounding sand dunes to gaze at the stars on a perfectly clear and moonless night, and slept comfortably in a tent on a bed under a pile of blankets.

The next morning after a quick breakfast, we climbed the highest nearby hill and watched the sunrise over the desert.

Then it was rush rush to get back on the camels and ride back to the car for another 6 hour car ride (sans vomiting this time and with only moderate nausea) back to Marrakesh.

I certainly could have stood to spend another night in the desert.

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The economy in Marrakesh is highly dependant on tourism. And it shows. Every year the total number of people visiting Marrakesh exceeds the city’s inhabitants. One result is that nearly everyone who sits in a shop or stands outside a restaurant hustling people to eat there speaks Arabic (first language for most Moroccans), French (second language for most Moroccans), English, and Spanish, at least well enough to exchange pleasantries and discuss what they offer.

Another result of the highly tourist-dependent economy is that people are pushy.

The women offering henna tattoos on the main square can be bold enough to grab your hand and start a design and then demand a large sum (happened to Jane).

The men who drag the monkeys around by a leash on their neck will set the monkey on the backs of tourists who look too long and then demand payment to remove the monkey (my kids understood that they weren’t allowed to look directly at any monkeys).

If a hawker hands you something as “a gift”, you know there’s going to be some demands later about it or something else (the kids learned to just shake their heads “no” when someone tried to give them a balloon or toy).

If you have Google maps out on your phone you can be sure someone will welcome you to Morocco and help you find what you’re looking for and then demand payment.

And there are no set prices. Everything is negotiable from handicrafts to groceries (at least in the small shops) to taxis. This gets tiring after a while when you never know if you’re getting ripped off. The price starts at 600 Dirham and when you get out down to 150 you think you’re getting a decent deal when in fact you may still be paying double what a good negotiator would pay.

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But the weather in December is nice. The city is hard not to like, filled with a combination of crumbing facades and bright tile work. The people are overall kind and helpful even when it seems disingenuous much of the time. And we never felt unsafe (at least not very unsafe). So it’s a great place to visit although 8 days was plenty for us.

According to legend, Georgia’s capital city, Tbilisi, was founded when a prince who was hunting in the area shot a pheasant which fell into a thermal spring. According to one version of the legend, the pheasant was revived, healed, and flew away. According to the another version of the legend, the prince pulled the dead bird from the water and ate it, finding the bird had cooked in the hot water to perfection.
In any case, the prince ordered the building of a city in the location of the thermal springs and named it Tbilisi, which in Georgian means “warm place”.

We went many times to the sulfur bath houses located in the old city. In the baths, you can pay a few dollars to enter the public sections of the bath or pay $20 upwards to $200 to rent a private room depending on how posh you want the room.

Nolan, Kolya, and I frequented the public baths at Bathhouse#5 where you could sit and cook your brains in the sauna, relax in a warm sulfur bath (the springs are sulfur springs and smell mildly of rotten eggs), or take a hot sulfur water shower (all for 5 Georgian Lari or about $1.75).
For an additional $3 you can get a “peeling”or a massage. After my experience in the Turkish baths, I had no desire to try a peeling, but I did get a couple of massages which would be better called “aggressive soaping” rather than massages.

The women’s section of the public baths had only a sulfur shower–no sauna or warm pool–so Ashley and the girls rented a private room a few times. Margaret and Jane loved the soap massage.

We rented a car in Tbilisi and made a few day trips to surrounding towns. We also stayed a few days in a resort town called Borjomi. It’s famous for its mineral springs and sanitariums.

During Soviet times, trains ran direct from Moscow to the resorts in Borjomi.

Bottled mineral water from a source in this town is sold all over the world. According to locals though, it loses its potency unless you drink or straight from the source–which fortunately we did.

A small entrance fee gets you into the park where you can drink the famed waters that are known particularity for curing stomach issues.

The water comes out lukewarm and tastes like water with a pinch of baking soda and salt, and a dash of rotten eggs.

Borjomi is a mountain town, and it’s much colder than Tbilisi. We stayed in a house that had a couple of small furnaces mounted to the wall that weren’t quite enough to keep the place warm. Fortunately, there was a fireplace. The kids loved it. We even cooked dinner on the fire a couple of nights.

There was a young neighborhood cat that kept sneaking in. We all loved him although we had to officially kick him out in fear of what might happen since there was no litter box in the house. The cat, named “Let It Ring Out” especially took a liking to Ashley

Borjomi is also home to a disappointing thermal spring.

We spent a good chunk of one day hiking to the thermal springs, only to jump in and find out they were only as warm as yesterday’s bath water.

With the ambient temperature a balmy 30 degrees, we were all pretty cold, though Kolya and I managed to stay in for a full hour in the hopes of getting some of the purported healing benefits of the springs.

We followed the tepid thermal springs up with a short trip to Bakuriani, a ski town a little too early in the season for skiing, but beautiful nonetheless

We spent another day horseback in the Borjomi National Forest. It was great fun except that it was bitter cold.

This was the only time poor little Margaret has complained on the trip (not just the horse ride, but the entire trip so far!). She was in the saddle with me and I kept asking if she was cold. She shook her head “no” until we got to the turn around spot and then started crying because she was cold. I bundled her up in my coat and she fell asleep for the ride down.

One day, we drove a couple of hours to a town called Vardzia, very near the Turkish border. Like the people of Cappadocia Turkey, Georgians built a complex cave city in the cliffs. Unlike the cave cities in Cappadocia, Vardzia was planned and constructed in a relatively short period of time and was used only as a place of protection during invasions.

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The caves were built under the direction of her Majesty, King Tamara (our guide made sure we understood that this woman was a king and not a queen), and featured clay pipe plumbing and a full monastery. In places, the cave city was up to 19 different levels and could house up to 20,000 people.

After our day trip to Vardzia, the cave city, we found an out of the way hot springs “resort” called Hotel Geno (that in no way resembled a hotel or resort) and had a great time swimming in the thermal water and plunging in the ice cold pool

One day, we drove to see the castle in a town called Akhalsikhe. The area was occupied for many years by the Turks and the castle they built featured a Mosque as well as architecture influenced by Muslim culture.

The kids didn’t appreciate the architecture, but they had a blast playing hide and seek on the castle grounds.

My friend Kolya has been coming to Georgia every year for the last several years. He always stays in the Black Sea town of Batumi and was keen on me seeing that city. So one night at midnight, we boarded a coach bus and for $7, took a 7-hour ride to Batumi.

Once the bus was moving and the lights were off, I quickly stripped down to a t-shirt and long underwear bottoms, hoping to get a little shut-eye. I had a hard time sleeping though.

The seats weren’t great, but they weren’t terrible. The reason I couldn’t sleep was the temperature on the bus. It was easily 90 degrees. I was dying.

I looked around to see how my fellow travelers were faring. They were all fast asleep still wearing their winter gear! Most hadn’t even opened the top button of their coats! Kolya asked the bus driver to turn the heat down, but he was told to sit back down.

That was a long bus ride. Needless to say, we took the train home from Batumi. It was much more pleasant.

I had a great time in Batumi. The morning we arrived, I got to join in a game of beach volleyball. Without kids we fit in a packed itenarary of sight-seeing in the area, and we stayed the night with a family Kolya knows. I even got to take a brisk swim in the Black Sea.

After returning back to Tbilisi, we had just a few days until we left for Spain.

Ashley has a friend from Georgia who studied with her in the U of U MBA program. She met up with her earlier on our trip to Georgia, and before we left Georgia, Nona invited our while family to her house for dessert. On the way to her house, we stopped at the TV studio Nona runs. We all had fun seeing what goes on behind the camera, but Jane really had a good time getting a professional makeup application.

Our last day in Georgia fell in the fourth Thursday in November, so we boiled some potatoes and picked up some poultry from KFC to celebrate Thanksgiving Day.

On Friday morning 3am the day after Thanksgiving, we dragged the kids out of bed, caught a taxi to the airport, and headed for sunny Spain.

Goodbye, Georgia! A great country to visit.

The first thing you need to know about Barcelona is that it’s pronounced Bar-thay-lo-na.

The next thing you need to know is that when you lose a tooth in Catalonia (the region of Spain in which Barcelona is found), you don’t get a visit from the tooth fairy, but from Ratoncito Perez. So when your kid loses a tooth in Barcelona, you tell him to put it under his pillow and when he falls asleep a little mouse is going to crawl across his face a few times and rummage around under his pillow until he finds the tooth.

The third thing you need to know about Barcelona is that there’s no Santa Clause here. Instead, there’s Cagatió. As Christmas approaches, families bring a large log into their house and paint a face on it. The log is named Cagatio. According to Wikipedia (and some folks here who explained the tradition to us):

Beginning with the Feast of the Immaculate Conception (December 8), one gives the tió (Catalan for “log”)  a little bit to “eat” every night and usually covers him with a blanket so that he will not be cold. The story goes that in the days preceding Christmas, children must take good care of the log, keeping it warm and feeding it, so that it will defecate presents on Christmas Day or Eve (yes, that’s correct, and no, it’s not made up). 

On Christmas Day or, in some households on Christmas Eve, one puts the tió partly into the fireplace and orders it to defecate. The fire part of this tradition is no longer as widespread as it once was, since many modern homes do not have a fireplace. To make it defecate, one beats the tió with sticks, while singing various songs of Tió de Nadal. The name Cagatio actually means poop-log (although I read that the Catalan word that is used is a much more coarse expression).

Nolan can’t wait to start this tradition in the US.

We stayed in a little town outside of Barcelona for about a week. It was another miserable night flight to get here, packing up until midnight and then leaving for the airport at 3am, but it’s been great to be here so far.

The weather has been cool but pleasant overall although today has been cold, windy, and rainy.

We’ve had a couple of beach days and park days here, but we’ve also been out and about in Barcelona some.

Barcelona is a beautiful old city with lots of Gothic architecture and narrow streets, sculptures, and fountains.

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Barcelona is also a hub of the modernist architectural movement. Her most famous architect is Antoni Gaudi, whose architectural designs are extreme examples of the modern movement.

Although it looks like Gaudi may have been influenced by mind-altering substances when he designed his works, he was in fact a teetotaler and very dedicated Catholic who saw his architecture as a way to express the majesty of God.

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As a boy, Gaudi was very feeble and was not expected to live to adulthood. He spent much of his childhood ill and in bed with only his imagination to entertain him.

He became a forming member of the modernist movement in architecture where using forms that reflect nature and using design to tell stories are key elements.

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In his early career, he was lucky enough to win the favor of the wealthiest family in Barcelona and construct several houses for them. He quickly became one of the most famous architects in the city. Gaudi became frustrated though catering to the tastes of his patrons and eventually swore off commissions, focusing all his time and personal means on his masterpiece, the Sagrada Familia, a catholic basilica. Gaudi worked on the cathedral for 40 years, only completing about 10% of the building before his death. Of the slow pace of construction Gaudi said “my client is not in a hurry.” It is still under construction today with an anticipated completion within the next ten years.

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We also spent one day visiting the Pablo Picaso Museum, the only museum we’ve dragged our kids through in Spain so far (we’ve learned our lesson about museums).

Pablo Picasso is widely considered the greatest painter of the 20th century. Books on art history contain more than twice as many Picasso paintings as any single other painter.

He’s of course most famous for his cubist works, but the museum showed a progression of his work from pretty traditional realism to expressionism to cubism.

The kids did pretty well in the museum all things considered. We have come up with a pretty fun game for them–in each room, we find some small detail for them to look for. If they find them all, they earn a small prize.

We’ve also found that everyone is more happy if Ashley and I take turns sightseeing in the city while the other adult takes the kids to the beach or a park. So we each had a day alone in Barcelona while the kids had a couple of free days.

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It’s kind of funny that the name of a country in one language can bear no resemblance to the name used by those who live in that country. So it is with the Georgia, or as Georgians refer to their homeland, Sakartvelo, which in the beautiful and unusual Georgian alphabet is written საქართველო.

We arrived in the Republic of Georgia on November 5th and ended up staying until the day after Thanksgiving, November 29, so getting close to a full month.

Georgia was high on my list of places to visit, but we also thought it would be a good place to slow our pace a little, take it easy, and catch up on home school. To some degree we accomplished all of those goals.

Georgia is also a place a friend of mine named Kolya from Russia visits frequently.

Kolya met us in Tbilisi after we had been there about a week and we spent the rest of our time in Georgia with him.

The Republic of Georgia is a relatively small country, about the size of Ireland, situated on the Eastern side of the Black Sea. At a true cultural crossroads, Georgia shares borders with Turkey, Armenia, Russia, and Azerbaijan.

The national language is Georgian, a language unrelated to any other major language group and only spoken by 4 million people in the world. The Georgian alphabet is also quite unique and beautiful and also not related to any other.

A former Soviet republic, Georgia suffered from severe poverty and corruption in the 90’s after the collapse of the Soviet Union. It pulled itself up by the bootstraps so to speak though, and has since become a fairly popular tourist destination. A large part of the Georgian economy is based on tourism and Georgia hopes to add to that every year. Unfortunately, strained relations with Russia have decreased the number of Russian tourists, which previously made up a large percentage of overall tourists to Georgia.

Mountainous and sparsely forested (at least the parts we have seen) Georgia reminds Ashley and me a lot of Utah. It offers some of the best and the cheapest skiing near Europe.

Georgian cuisine is popular as much among neighboring countries as among Georgians. Our Russian friend said when Russians go out to eat, they go get Georgian food. We’ve liked the food in general, but like much of the food in the region, it is meat, cheese, and bread heavy. Well known Georgian dishes include kharcho (seasoned beef soup), khinkali (large meat dumplings), khatchapuri (various preparations of bread and cheese and sometimes meat), churchkhela (nuts on a string covered in dried fruit puree), and lobiani (bread filled with refried beans).

Aside from food, Georgia is also famous for wine. The earliest historical evidence of wine making was found in Georgia and dates back at least 8000 years. Over 530 varieties of grapes are grown in Georgia.

Most people here with enough of a garden to grow grapes brew their own wine. They also all seem capable of cooking up their own hooch called Chacha which they distill from the crushed grapes left over after making wine. I thought that kind of home distilled strong alcohol could make you blind, but I met a few old gents who drink quite a bit of it and they seemed to see alright. Homebrewed wine and chacha are for sale all over the streets and shops.

Georgia was one of the first countries to adopt Christianity and religious sentiment among Georgians remains very strong. It’s common to see people stop and cross themselves when they pass a church.

Saint Nino (female) is credited with converting the king and queen, and this the entire country, to Christianity in the 4th century.

According to tradition, the Virgin Mary gave Nino a cross made from grape vines which Nino secured using her own hair. Since grape vines aren’t very rigid, the arms of the cross sagged and thus the Georgian cross has droopy arms.

In our three months travels, we have seen so many churches, cathedrals, and mosques that is hard to get as excited about them anymore. But since many of the attractions both in and around Tbilisi are monasteries, we’ve ended up seeing our share here as well. The architectural style is almost identical from one to the next–so the buildings differ mainly in size, age, and inside decor. Many of the old monasteries are bare stone on the inside and it makes the feat of building the tall central dome out of cut stone seem more impressive when those stones are not plastered over.

I wish I had more photos, but many of the monasteries don’t allow photography inside.

Because of its small size and its location between major historic world powers, and on important trade routes, Georgia has experienced many invasions through the centuries and has had to form alliances with larger powers.

A large statue in Tbilisi, Mother of Georgia, depicts a woman holding a sword in one hand to fend off enemies and a bowl of wine in the other hand to welcome her friends.

It’s relationship with Russia now, the Soviet Union previously, and imperial Russia before that has been particularly complicated.

Georgia’s current governing party leans toward Putin and his cohort, while the previous party were outspoken critics of Putin, which drew economic sanctions from Russia that are still in effect. In a similar fashion to the occupation of Crimea in Ukraine, Russia currently occupies two significant regions of Georgia. Georgia is the birthplace of prominent Soviet leader and revolutionary Joseph Stalin. Prior to communism, Georgia was considered a protectorate of imperial Russia.

The current political climate in Georgia is strained. Many people are fed up with the current ruling party, Georgian Dream, and what they see as its lack of any concern for Georgia or it’s people. Tbilisi had several demonstrations while we were there. Kolya and I walked around then a little and got a feel for the general climate. They were generally peaceful but I know later some of the protesters were dispersed with water cannons.

For such a small country, Georgia has a fairly varied climate. From sub tropical in the west along the Black Sea to more continental in the mountains in the north. You can pick mandarins and persimmons and take a dip in the Black Sea in late November in Batumi (I did both), and go skiing in the mountains in central Georgia (this year though they’ll probably have to wait at least until mid December for more snow).

The cost of travel to Georgia makes it appealing as well. Georgian currency is the Georgian Lari or GEL. Current exchange rate is about 3GEL/USD. A ride in the metro costs 0.5 GEL or about 15 cents. Most taxis we took around town were $2-3. A filling meal including a local Georgian soda (Georgian soda is delicious) in a typical cafe can be had for $3-4. A visit to the public bath house is $1.75. the nicest place we’ve stayed in by far on our trip was a spacious loft with a view in Old Town Tbilisi that we paid $40/night for, although I bet in the summer it will cost at least twice that.

So, if I haven’t convinced you to come visit Georgia, maybe I will with my next post on Georgia. I think we all had a great time there, and I was happy to visit and leave some money with the local economy.

Although Turkey was not a country on our “to-visit” list, we ended up staying almost a month there. We left feeling like there was still so much to see.

Our itenarary ended up being Antalya–Kas–Istanbul–Cappodocia–Istanbul.

Our favorites were Kas and Cappadocia. Still, gotta say that Istanbul is a pretty cool city.

Few cities in the world are more historically significant than Istanbul.

Despite Turkey’s political vicissitudes over the last decade, Istanbul is still a top tourist destination with 2020 expected to have more visitors see the city than it’s population size–and it’s population is 15 million.

Istanbul is a diverse city–a melting pot of cultures and ethnic groups. It’s a city that never sleeps. It’s clean and modern and old and run down all at once. It’s huge and takes forever to get around–which was our least favorite thing about Istanbul. Our first stay in Istanbul was in the historic Sultahnamet district farily close to everything in the historic center. It was a unique experience. Our second stay was just a few metro stops away (or so it seemed when we booked it), but it took us nearly 2 hours to get to the sites in the historic district.

For our 8 days in Istanbul, we were able to accomplish and see relatively little (at least it seems to me that way).

Here’s what we did see:

The Hagia Sofia. This ancient Christian Church was the architectural treasure of Christianity in the east (Istanbul sits on the very Eastern edge of Europe, on the border between Europe and Asia).

It’s a huge building composed of a series of domes. The Hagia Sofia is made of cut stone that has been plastered on the outside of the building–it almost looks like cement. To me the overall appearance of the building from the outside is squat and industrial.

But that squat, domed building is very different from the inside. The architectural design allows for a huge open space without any central supports inside the building. The central dome is one hundred and eighty feet from floor to ceiling. It’s a pretty remarkable achievement in architecture for a building built entirely of stone almost fifteen hundred years ago.

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After the ottoman empire’s conquest of the city in the 1500’s, it was converted into a mosque and its frescoes were plastered over. Now, only a few frescoes can be seen.

The Blue Mosque. After the ottoman conquest of Constantinople, the sultan wanted to build a mosque that would surpass the Hagia Sofia in beauty. He built the Sultanahmet Mosque or Blue Mosque. The thousands of tiles painted with blue designs that line the interior give it is name. Because it is still an active mosque, it is closed off and on throughout the day for prayer.

The construction served very similar to me to that on the Hagia Sofia. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to take get a true feel for how it looks because the interior was under renovation and we couldn’t see the large central dome from the inside.

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Topakapi Palace. From the 15th through the 17th cetruries, the Topakapi palace was royal headquarters of the Sultans in the Ottoman Empire. It is the second of three palaces constructed during the Ottoman dynasty. Amended and remodeled over the centuries, it contains several courtyards, a huge kitchen, an armory, and the Harem (which our guide claimed is not what you think it is). It also houses one of the world’s largest cut diamonds and a Topakapi dagger, a dagger made famous in a heist film from the 60’s. This was our last cultural heritage stop in Turkey. It was a cool place, but hard to appreciate after two and a half months of museums and cultural heritage sites.

The Bosphorous. Part of Turkey’s historic (and current) strategic location is its position across the bosphorous—one of two narrow passages of water that ultimately connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Black Sea. As such, it is inherently important for both military and commerce.

We rode one of the many ships that ply the Bosphorous. No free hot chocolate aboard the boat was a real let down for Jane and Nolan, but we did see dophins.

After the boat tour, we stopped for a famous Istanbul staple–belik ekmek or fish sandwich. It was a mackerel fillet fresh caught and grilled on a boat tied to the wharf. I liked it but no one else would try it except Nolan who still talks about how good it was (I don’t think he actually got any fish in his bite, but the idea of eating fresh caught fish is appealing to him).

Turkish Hamam. I could write an entire post about my experience in the Turkish Bath. We had planned that I would go first while Ashley was with the kids and then she would go later. After my experience, she decided not to go. It was’t a bad experience though. I’ll briefly describe it.

I had heard that the baths were quite beautiful so I selected a historic bath designed by some illustrious architect. It was lined with white marble and had a domed roof with small round windows to let in natural light.

A Turkish bath starts in a steam room where your sit and warm yourself and bath with warm water from a basin. Next, an attendant calls you from the steam room to the bathing till and bathes you while you sit on a marble slab. Then he uses a loofah mitt to exfoliate you, again while you site on a marble slab. It’s a serious business. During the exfoliation process, you can see the skin peeling off like a sunburn. It was somewhere between mildly and moderately painful. I am pretty sure he forgot to exfoliate my back, but when I asked him about it he assured me he had. He offered to scrub it again, but I worried about the possible consequences of a double scrub in the event that he really had already done it .

After the exfoliation follows a frothy bubble soap down and massage while you lie on a warm marble slab. This was the only relaxing part of the experience.

At the end of it all, I asked the front desk how this differs from a traditional Turkish bath experience. “Since at this bath, 90% of our clients are foreigners, the exfoliation is much gentler.”

I don’t know if I could handle the native experience.

The Grand Bazaar and the Spice Bazaar. One of the largest and oldest indoor bazaars in the world, Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar is a maze of small shops selling Turkish delight, jewelry, rugs, ceramics, “genuine fake” watches, and everything else imaginable. I think we made it out of there without anything besides a few toys and trinkets and a little bit of honey.

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I plan on writing one more post about Turkey, including one of our neatest experiences with a Turkish family we met. Here are some more photos from around Istanbul.

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We’ve been in Istanbul for a few days now.

We ended up in a neighborhood about fifteen minutes away from the most well-known historic area of Istanbul.

It’s a colorful neighborhood. Definitely not overly touristy. Pretty working class. Which is neat really.

Narrow cobble stone streets. Five story apartment buildings. Little stores, laundry shops, small cafes, street vendors. And barbershops. Barbershops on every corner.

Turkish men take grooming seriously. Once I noticed how many barber shops there are, I also noticed how nearly all the guys here are sporting fresh fades.

And I was in need of a haircut.

One of the most cultural experience I have ever had was a trip to the Turkish barber.  Might sound boring, but it was a pretty exciting! 

At about 8pm, I popped into the corner shop.

I was invited to have a seat while the barber worked on the chaps in line ahead of me.

Some had come for a trim, some for a shave, some for both. While I waited, a few more stopped in. They appeared to be personal friends of the barber as they were greeted with “Salam walakum”, a handshake and the side to side head press that is the Turkish version of the cheek-to-cheek kiss greeting.

There was one barber on duty and a young helper whom the barber good-naturedly cajoled and hustled about throughout the evening.

The shop had three black barber’s chairs, each with a sink and a mirror in front of them. The shop occupied the first floor corner of the building and so 2 of the four walls were looked with windows. Under one row was a bench and table where we waited for our turn in a barber’s chair.

After about a forty minute wait, it was my turn. I took a seat in the chair. The barber spoke just a few words in English, so with the help of Google translate, we established how I wanted my hair cut.

The haircut was pretty routine, but with a little more attention to detail than I was used to. He used a straight razor around all the edges. To make sure the top was even, he used a blow dryer and a brush to tease my hair straight up and even everything out.

I indicated I was up for the whole experience, so he moved on to the shave.

He poured a little hot water into a cup, whipped up some foam with a shaving brush, and lathered up my face.

After each quick but careful stroke with the straight razor, he wiped the edge of the blade free of foam and trimmings on the back of the fingers of his free hand.

To shave smooth and the convex surfaces of my face, he carefully stretched the skin of my cheeks and chin with his left hand while he shaved with his right.

When he had finished the shave, he dipped a two-inch chisel brush into hot black wax in a pot on a burner in the corner. This was applied to my upper cheeks. It was hot, but not painful. Then two q-tips into the same pot and one up each nostril. Felt a little hotter in my nostrils than it did on my cheeks.

While the hot wax was curing on my cheeks and in my nostrils, he dipped a little wad of cotton on the end of a stick into alcohol and ignited it. He bounced the open flame against my ears and I could hear the crackling of the fine hairs on my ears being singed off (I didn’t think I had hair on my ears).

Once the flame was put away, he pulled the cured wax off my cheeks to remove any offensive hairs there. Not gonna lie, this process smarts a little.

Next, the q-tips in my nostrils . A couple of wiggles and a steady pull, and out came any and all nose hairs firmly cemented in the wax. Not gonna lie, this hurt a little more than the cheek wax.

If you think that the process up to this point is sufficient for removing all unwanted facial hair, you are mistaken.

Next step: threading. First he rubbed a palmful of talc into my skin. Then after pulling a length of thread from a spool, he formed a loop and twisted it several times.  With the loop in his left hand, one free end in his right hand and one free end clenched between his teeth, he laid the thread against my face. Opening and releasing the loop with his fingers, he bobbed his head forward and back.  With each bob, the loop tightened and twisted, grasping all the fine wispy hairs from my forehead and cheeks and jerking them out.

Now, with a smooth, clean face, I was ready for a nose strip and face mask. After 20 minutes, the mask had cured and the barber peeled it off my face.

I leaned forward over the sink as the my face and head were washed and shampooed. A short face, neck, and head massage followed.

A full blow-dry and style and three different face salves and ointments finished up the treatment.

So, 2 hours later and $20 lighter, I left the barbershop.

I was done, but the barber was far from finished. When I left at 10 pm, he was still going strong.

Took Nolan in the next day for a cut. He just got a cut though. No hot wax or open flames for him.

If you ever drive a car in Turkey, don’t fret when you see a police car behind you with lights flashing–just drive on and they’ll probably pass you. And it’s ok if you overtake a police car ahead of you, again with lights flashing.

How do I know this? Because on Monday, we rented a car and drove down the coast.

I was a little worried, but driving a car in this area of Turkey hasn’t been bad at all. Except that the traffic police drive everywhere with their lights on.

I’m sure the story is different in a big city like Istanbul.

We’ve been able to see so much more in a car, it makes me think about renting a car at all our destinations.

Kas is a little town on the coast about 3 hours away from Antalya. It’s beautiful. The old Town is situated on a steep slope that slides down into the Mediterranean. The narrow streets are cobbled with rough-cut stone. Little shops and cafes everywhere.

There is a much higher concentration of British and German tourists here.

Continue reading “Kas (Kash) Turkey” →

We’re having a great time in Turkey. We’re now in the beautiful coastal town of Kas.

I’ve tried posting a few times, but the internet service here is so poor that I can’t get pictures to upload. We can’t even get the kids online school to work.

So, I’ll post again when I can.