Beijing

Due to a series of travel arrangement snafus, the unexpected last stop in the Saramistbixian Silk Road tour was a 20 hour lay-over in Beijing (and the name of this blog should probably be changed to “saramistbiJING” as a result). Even after staying awake for more than 30 hours straight (ended up round 48, mebbe? and without a shower — we smelled GOOD!) all the drama and fatigue did nothing to dampen the thrill of being in China’s exploding capital city. When we arrived, we didn’t know it would mark the end of the journey; but we were determined to maximize our stay there, and we did. The Today Show’s Matt Lauer has nothing on the thrive team when it comes to getting maximum tourism highlights into a single day…

One of the team’s friends in Beijing was gracious enough to meet us when we got into Beijing, at 2 am, and allow us to store our luggage at his apartment. James, a native of the OC, had been in China for more than a year, and was a project manager on a construction site, an eyewitness to the business and construction boom. He took us to a Chinese restaurant (go figure) in the clubbing district where we wolfed down delicious noodles and shaved ice (mountainous dessert concoctions slathered with different kinds of beans — wish I had a photo, but at that point, was so exhausted all I could do was handle chopsticks.)

We took cabs to see the dawn flag-raising at Tianeman Square. A huge crowd gathered; music played; and in two minutes the flag was up and it was over. Anti-climactic, really — but amazing to be where we were. There is so much construction and activity going on in this crowded, crazy metropolis — almost thought that not just the flag would be raised, but that the cranes over the Forbidden City would be replaced with glass skyscraper concoctions by sunrise. And, due to preparations for the Olympics and concerns about smog, they’re seeding the clouds most nights — so it rains, and clears the streets. The morning we were there, there was a light grey fog, and the streets were slick…and by sunrise, the streets were jammed with activity, with people walking their dogs (and their birds, in cages swinging wildly from side to side) and doing morning exercises. Busy, busy place.

Kyrgzy drive-by

While traveling through those corduroy hills of the Kyrgzy Republic, I had the chance to sample some mare’s milk — fermented, smoky, not-pasteurized or homogenized, a little bit alcoholic. It’s sold at roadside stands, like this:

Back in Naryn

Spent most of the time in Naryn walking around the city, looking at the sights, like the statue to the “new generation” —

visiting with that new generation:

Tash Rabat

Doesn’t it sound oh-so-mysterious? Tash Rabat is the site of a 15th century (could be 5th — time does fly, and there’s no question but that these kinds of places have been around 4-evah) caravanserai;

Road to Naryn

I don’t have a lot to say about rest stops on the highway on the road to Naryn except for this: if you’re a vegetarian who eats fish you might be okay, but you still might want to pack a lunch, and maybe bring sleeping pills or something — the good drivers are the kind that scare the living bejesus out of you, and make you think that maybe teaching your kids to drive wasn’t so bad, after all. I left fingerholds in the molded plastic in the back, and was really, really glad I was wearing my St. Christopher’s medal, and had a big blue glass evil eye that I got in Turkey, and my Arabic necklace, too. Have no fear, tho’ — if you forget the pills, you’ll always be able to buy vodka on the road. Lots of different kinds in the middle row, below. Somehow, that’s comforting, no?

In Bishkek

Despite the sunny-appearing picture below, Bishkek is dreary, dark, and overgrown – not much in the way of municipal services. And it gets very very hot. This is the main government square on a Tuesday afternoon — their version of the DC mall…

The city is green this time of year; and there is potential romance in those streets — just needs some weeding and patching, and a lot of cleaning up, mostly of bad oppressive Soviet block architecture. Maybe clean-up isn’t the right word…perhaps the word is “demolition”. There is little that’s welcoming or warm about most of the architecture in the city — except for all the green growing things coming up through all the cracks, perhaps sending the subliminal message that life persists and continues.

Bishkek’s National Fine Arts Museum

So, the photos on my fritzin’ memory card were largely recovered; not all, but at least some. Here are some photos of paintings and other works at the National Fine Arts Gallery in Bishkek; there wasn’t a lot there, not many people go (it costs 20 som for Kyrgyz (about $0.35), 100 som (I think) for foreigners- but some of what was there, was amazing. The old ladies who manned the various galleries refused to allow me to take their photos; I wasn’t allowed to take any, actually – but there wasn’t anyone there, and I didn’t see the signs until halfway thru…so I did the infamous “cough-n-click” to bring to you a falconer, a schoolgirl, some agricultural workers and a Kyrgyzstan mom-and-me morning.

KYRGYZSTAN

There, I think I finally spelled it right. The memory card holding my photos of Bishkek, including photos of the Kyrgzy National Fine Arts Museum, overgrown parks, Soviet-block architecture, and decay, seems to have broken; so I have little to post from Bishkek, the capital. Which is good — because I wouldn’t want your first impression of this beautiful, but tragic, “stan” to be of the tired city of Bishkek.

Rather, it should be of some of the beauty and wonder of Kyrgzstan — its land and its people. We found the boy and his little sister in the picture above with his family, at their summer yurt, or jailoo, on the road to Naryn. I think I’m going to call him the “golden child” — he’s holding, by its feet, a fly he caught with its wings still frizzing, and then let go. His sister was nonplussed; I knew I had just seen something I’ve only thought truly possible for video game and comic book characters. It was everyday magic. Then again, when you’re in a yurt all summer long, hanging with the family, the horses, sheep and goats, what else are you gonna do for fun, but develop lightning-fast reflexes, excellent animal husbandry and superior horse-back riding skills, at 8?

Gotta love that smile.

A few last pix of Istanbul

Bridge over the Bosphorus, connecting Europe and Asia.

TeaSugarDream

“Tea-sugar-dream” is how “thank you” is easiest said in Turkish, by English-speakers, according to the Turks. Easy to remember, but I felt like an idiot, garbling the language, everytime I tried to say it. Nonetheless, folks were patient with me, which was greatly appreciated. And everywhere they offered me apple tea, turkish coffee, and entertaining conversation – usually starting off with an offer to sell a Turkish carpet, but sometimes including some Byzantine or Ottoman histories, general tales of the tourist trade, and the occasional yakuza.

There was far too much to do and see in Istanbul and in Turkey for one week’s visit. Here are a few photos of some of the other highlights — starting with a “secret” 5th century byzantine church and mosaics, uncovered in the basement of this travel agency, and not open to the general public.

Go figure. Istanbul/Constantinople/Byzantium, and Turkey, overall, is like that; once you get past some of the sales pitches and the swagger, there are hidden treasures and histories, and indisputable charm. There’s also poverty and political tension, and monstrous socio-economic divides; Istanbul is an incredibly alive and diverse, exciting city that truly does blend East and West, with its European and Asian sides, and blends time, recognizing the past and looking to the future.

Fairy Castles and Hot Air Balloons: Cappadocia, Day 2

Amazing experience. If you ever get a chance to go on a hot air balloon ride, take it.

Hot Diggety Dic — Cappadocia Day 1

In case there’s ever been any argument about Turkey being a man’s world, check out the topography of Cappadocia. This region of Turkey, famed for inhabitants including the Hittites and the Byzantines; vast underground cities; red wine; cave hotels; and volcanic deposits that engage the imagination. The taxi picked me up to go to the airport for the 90 minute flight to Capadocia at 5 am; it was more than worth every moment of lost sleep.

And the hillsides are the colors of ice cream sherberts and barbie princess make-believe dream house landscapes, in pistachio green, lemon ice yellow, and strawberry pink layers of stone:

It’s just a fairy tale world, of volcanic mushroom caps and fairy cottages. The early Byzantines would hide out in these rocks, and if you look closely at some of the landscapes, you can see the doors and windows to their daily worlds, reached often by ladders or ropes or footholds carved into the rock.

Istanbul’s Mosques & Churches & both

Here are some selected shots from the church of St. Saviour in Chora (examples of Byzantine mosaics and frescos); Eyup Sultan Mosque (still in use; the little boys with the white capes and crowns that might be in some of the mosque pix are about to be circumcised; in Turkey, that’s a very big deal, like a quinceneara, or a confirmation, and happens between the ages of 3 and 7-ish, with a big party & gifts and lots of proud family members); the Blue Mosque, Istanbul’s most famous mosque, every inch, seemingly, covered in Iznik tile (with a street value of $50K USD per tile, if you can find ’em legally, which you can’t); and the Haghia Sophia, known as onte of the beautiful buildings in the world, and used over the centuries as both a church and a mosque, and now a tourist destination. Go figure.

The Last Sultans

Dolmabahce Palace was introduced to me while I was on the Bosphorus cruise – on the water, motoring by this 46000 square foot 19th century gilt-edged retreat from Topkapi – as the reason why Sultans no longer exist. The incredible excesses of the last 60 years of the Sultans, at Dolmabahce Palace (which was built in 1856 by Sultan Abdu Mecit, when the Ottoman Empire was in decline – although sultans lived there through ) were financed by foreign banks and, rumor has it, the war contributions to the Treasury by loyal Turkish subjects — and reminded me of the Newport RI mansions, of the Vanderbilts and the Whitneys — just way, way bigger.

Here are a few examples of the excesses – from the various entries; the Sultan’s alabaster bathroom; the painted, patterned ceilings; the numerous Sultan’s reception and living rooms; the “gifts” from other places (including elephant tusks, huge porcelain vases, hundreds of ornate clocks, and polar bear skins, from the Russians); and the crystal staircases and chandeliers, weighing as much as 4 1/2 tons — all just too much.

Topkapi Palace; Sultans, Harems & Empires

The Ottoman Empire was founded in 1301, when Osman 1 declared independence from the Byzantine Empire and Constantinople. In 1422, the Ottomans attacked Constantinople (modern day Istanbul) and in 1453 Sultan Mehmet II (“the Conqueror”) entered the city, and began to rebuild it, in the Ottoman image. In 1478 Topkapi Palace was completed. The Empire probably reached its peak under the rule of Suleyman I, “the Magnificent” (1520-66), when it stretched from Algiers to the Caspian Sea, and from Hungary to the Persian Gulf. Topkapi housed Sultans and harems of Sultans for over 400 years and has an incredible collection of jewels and treasures that rivet the imagination and speak to the power and vast reach of the Ottoman empire.