IntoTheWorld

Last update 10.08.2012 from Bucharest, Romania

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@TEDxBucharest 2012

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Obiectiv Canon reparat!/ Canon Lens Fixed!

Dintre toate aventurile pe care le-am trait in peste zece ani de calatorii, turul Africii pe motocicleta in 420 de zile a fost cea mai lunga si cea mai frumoasa.

Amintirile noastre sunt legate de exuberanta peisajelor, brutalitatea climei, dar mai ales de generozitatea oamenilor care ne-au primit, ospatat si ajutat, chiar daca eram niste straini. Am incercat sa povestim ce am trait prin fotografii. Ca in orice aventura offroad, au fost si "victime". Dupa cum povesteam in Tanzania, pe barca cu vele cu care am ajuns in Zanzibar, principalul obiectiv cu care fotografiem - un Canon EF 24mm f/1.4  L II USM - a avut de suferit.

Cu sprijinul Canon Romania, obiectivul a fost reparat la service-ul autorizat Cris Professional Services din Bucuresti, unde si body-ul a primit o bine-meritata curatenie de toamna. Kit-ul nostru a revenit la normal J Vom continua asadar sa spunem povestea turelor urmatoare in imagini. Multumim foarte mult!

In ten years of travelling we’ve never been more touched by what we’ve experienced than during our biking tour of Africa. The exuberance of nature, the brutally contrasting weather, but above all, the generosity of total strangers made us irrepressibly fall in love with the continent. We strived to tell their stories with our photos. But like all off-road adventures, ours had its share of victims. In the report from Tanzania we wrote about how our main lens – a Canon EF 24mm f/1.4  L II USM – got damaged while sailing a dhow to the Zanzibar archipelago.  

Thanks to Canon Romania, the lens was repaired at Cris Professional Services in Bucharest, where the 5D body got a complimentary clean-up. Our kit is back to normal, so we will continue to illustrate our reports with pics from the field. Many thanks!

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No Country For Old Men

by Ana, Romania pics courtesy to Ana's mum. Romanian version to come soon.

It may not shelter us from the humming storm and it may break sometimes in the middle of a swamp, but when we're keen to go off the beaten track, the bike is our tool of choice. It sure did the job when we wanted to spend more time in the African villages that we love so much. Eversince we rolled onto African soil, the similarities to where we had come from kept creeping up. We've touched the topic before, and this time is about the countryside and its countrymen. This journey takes us to the basics and it revolves around what Romania, like many of its sister nations of Africa, is in the process of losing. Firstly, the shelter. The need for one is hardwired into every sentient creature. Pretty much everywhere in the world vernacular architecture is rooted in impermanent resources. Yet, the humbler the building material, the craftier the outcome. Some of the most ingenious structures dot subsaharan Africa: the intricately huts of the pygmy peoples, weaved from leaves and twigs, the patchwork of everything designed into thick walled igloos by the the semi-nomadic Borana people of northern Kenya ..the thatched roofed adobe buildings with humble but lovely examples throughout the Sahel, like the symbolic Dogon architecture in northern Mali (for this house the adobe is mixed with stones, a variation encountered on the Bandiagara falaise) … the decorated homes of the Gourounsi people in Burkina -the high ceiling mud'n dung houses in central Ethiopia, built on eucalyptus poles and left unplastered … the red clay huts typical to all central Africa, from coast to coast, like this one from Mozambique … all the way to glorious monuments in neo-sudanese style like the iconic Djenne mosque (a replica of the XIII century original and still the largest mud-brick structure in the world) … or the one in Bobo Dioulasso, where the volume is determined by structure and spatial segmentation. The poles sticking out of the walls have both a structural function and help climb up the mosque when it's in need of repairs, which in Djenne for example become an annual regional event, with thousands of people gathering to hand-plaster the mosque after the rains stop. In this perishable and fragile world a few notable sturdier exceptions stand out: the Zanzibari houses built in coral blocks, not so sustainable if you ask… The mono-cellular tukul, looking like hobbit houses elevated on a foundation of boulders, to be found in the Ethiopian highlands (arguably the only example of vernacular architecture developed on several floors) And the very functional and sombre, albeit picturesque circular hut of the Basotho people, called mokhoro. Even in this case though, the stones used to construct the walls are held together with a mortar of sand and soil mixed with dung.  

Africa though is rapidly changing: even in the remotest deserts where elusive tribes like the Himba have been struggling to hold onto their old lifestyle, modern comfort is replacing tradition: No wonder there is little anthropological evidence left and little hope to find more. I will not go into debate about what's best for the people, I will refrain to recording my findings and my concern of the need to understand what we are soon to lose. Now, let's go back to Romania, to my father's village, Varlezi. This hilly, Eastern semi-arid region is geographically isolated from the main urban settlements in the district. When I was kid, we had to walk for 10 kilometres from the nearest train station to reach the tarmac, then there was another few Ks to knock on my grandmother's door. Nothing stands out: there are no interesting landmarks, no major course of water, no elaborate tradition to observe. The kind of place where the city dweller like myself can't find their place, bored to death. The kind of place that has nor the charm of Maramures, nor the dynamics of central Transylvania. A typical, slow-life village where people seem to have just stayed, their powers spent after marching aimlessly on their way to a merrier land. But give it a moment, let the magic unfold, and you'll see why they did.

Not too long ago, all the buildings in the village were made of mud and dung, much like in many places of Africa. The shelter was still man's connection to the land, hand-built with what the forest and the animals gave for free. After the earthquake of 1990, I remember all the family rushing to the countryside to help with hand-plastering the cracks in the walls of my grandmother's house. Nowadays only some of those structures are still standing in the compound, visibly weathered under a layer of fresh paint and a heavy roof.   When I was little, I was begging my parents for stories every night, which made them struggle for fresh material. My dad is particularly good at making up stories, and some of my fav series featured him wandering the hills as a lad, cuddling next to a lamb in a horse-pulled cart or rabbits dancing on his chest while he was napping in the forest. Seeing this area coming alive from spring to autumn, with the field smelling of wild thyme and bugs glistening from the grasses, I can almost believe these stories. My dad and his friend over-landing without a GPS towards some place Where they engage in their favourite activity Most day is spent here in the open air: working on the corn plantation and in the veg garden As everywhere in the temperate climate, fall is the most rewarding season. This year's autumn was stunning: wheat and corn have been harvested and milled Sufficient grains have been stored for winter, for animal feed Chicks have been reared Fresh herbs have been cut and slowly dried on paper in the attic, to flavour the stews and soups of the cold season to come Leaving nothing to waste, not even dill stems, that were finely chopped and mixed with sorrel and parsley Wild plants have been hand picked for the many herbal tea blends my dad brews yearlong to soothe a flu or just to enjoy in the afternoon Nuts, fruits and berries have been processed to stand the test of the long months to come But the most awaited moment of the fall is grape harvesting. When the summer's sun finally coagulates in precious drops of sweetness, people start roaming, the field starts vibrating and limbs start rock'n rolling. It's a sprint to the finish line, where the bags of aromatic fruit are carefully readied for the next step. Some will be dried and cured Most will be crushed And fermented into dark, strong wine Something links food and shelter: you eat how you live, and it all comes down to choice. Are all these produce delicious and wholesome? You bet. Is it hard-work and uncomfortable to grow and harvest them? Sure it is. Is is cheaper and more efficient to mass produce and mass distribute them? Seems like it. But should we be so hasty and dismiss such traditional ways of doing things as obsolete? Most of the urban Kenyans we talked to were confident we should, saying that the Maasai, for instance, aren't relevant in today's world, that Africa cannot develop fast enough in a race to catch up with the pace of other emerging regions. We cannot argue it isn't so. Since it become a free market economy, Romania too, hasn't stopped changing. It has a unique blend of oriental and Latin heritage, plenty of wild tracks to off-road and reasonably unspoilt landscapes in the countryside. Being away from the country for quite a bit of time allowed us to notice even the subtler changes. Things move fast. There is a lot to applaud, and a lot to debate. But one thing is sure, it would be good if both Romania and its distant fellow developing countries incorporate in their renewed identities not only regurgitated models, but also their rich heritage. We need to learn from our elders, so we know better what to teach our young. This concludes our posts from the Eastern Europe. Let the dice roll...

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Reporterii Realitatii - Românii care au cucerit continentul negru

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Into The World Africa Expo @McCann Garage

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Expozitia de fotografie „INTO THE WORLD” - 420 de zile si 55.000 de km in jurul Africii pe motocicleta la garajul McCann Erickson

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Expozitie de fotografie „INTO THE WORLD”

Eveniment inedit in Garajul McCann Erickson Expozitie de fotografie „INTO THE WORLD” / Pop-up Shop SAVE THE DATE ! Pe data de 25 octombrie, începând cu ora 19.00, Garajul McCann Erickson este din nou gazda unui proiect cultural inovator – Expozitia Fotografica „INTO THE WORLD” - povestea in imagini a unei calatorii de 420 de zile si 55.000 de km in jurul Africii ... pe motocicleta.

Despre proiect: Doi arhitecti romani, Ionut Florea si Ana Hogas au incheiat cu succes un tur de 55.000 de km in jurul Africii cu motocicleta. Expeditia a durat 420 de zile (14 luni), incepand cu iunie 2011, si a cuprins rutele de Vest si de Est si traversarea Africii centrale pe cel mai dificil traseu de pe continent (Kinshasa – Lubumbashi, R.D. Congo). Expozitia „INTO THE WORLD” dezvaluie in premiera povestea din spatele povestii: motojurnalism, portrete, scurt metraj si un set-up cu poze din cele 290 de zile petrecute la cort. Ce au fotografiat: colonii romane si medine medievale, cea mai mare cladire din chirpici din lume, patria voodoo, triburile Dogon, Himba si Maasai, enclava Swahili din arhipelagul Zanzibar, stravechea Nubie si Piramidele. Fotografii din: Maroc, Mauritania, Mali, Burkina Faso, Togo, Benin, Nigeria, Camerun, Gabon, Republica Congo(Brazzaville), Republica Democrata Congo (Kinshasa), Zambia, Namibia, Africa de Sud, Lesotho, Botswana, Mozambique,Tanzania, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egipt Expeditia in Africa face parte din proiectul ’Into The World’, o initiativa lansata in 2010 de Ionut Florea si Ana Hogas, in scopul de a promova explorarea independenta. Proiectul „INTO THE WORLD” nu se opreste aici: in etapa urmatoare cei doi vor explora timp de 6 luni America de Sud. Expeditia in Africa este documentata pe www.intotheworld.eu Asculta emisiunea Vocea filmelor din 30/09 la radio Guerrilla aici: http://www.radioguerrilla.ro/podcast Eveniment Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/events/271414762979378/ Afis: http://www.intotheworld.eu/poster_itw.jpg Invitatie: http://www.intotheworld.eu/invitatie_itw.jpg http://www.intotheworld.eu/invitatie.pdf

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Into The World - Trailer AFRICA

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O tura de placere/ Romanian Joyride

Romania 02 - 31/08

A durat ceva sa ne dam seama de asta, dar acum e clar: traversarea Zairului a fost momentul in care ne-am ‘shiftat’. Depanand amintiri din Congo cu Alper in Curtea de Arges, ne-am dat seama ca experienta asta continua sa dospeasca.

It took a while to see this, and now we do: the Zaïre crossing was the pivotal event that springboarded us to the next level. Sharing our various memories of Zaïre and of what happened after that with Alper in Curtea de Argeş, we realised that the whole experience continues to simmer on. 

Stai asa… am zis ca Alper e in Romania? Nu e vorba de tipul din Germania cu care am traversat celalalt Congo in decembrie trecut? Chiar el, si tare ne mai bucuram! Sa recapitulam deci ce s-a mai intamplat cu el de cand ne-am vazut ultima oara… in Congo. Era decembrie 2011 cand eu, Ana si cei patru Vidal din Toulouse ne aflam intr-o situatie cam… dificila in Kinshasa, in vreme de Alper si iubita lui de atunci ne impartaseau soarta, numai ca in Matadi. Era limpede ca nu vom putea nici unul dintre noi intra pe roti in Angola, asa ca aveam de luat o decizie importanta. Renuntam la calatorie, zburam peste tara ‘interzisa’, trimitem vehiculele cu vaporul sau mergem inainte pe unde harta nu-i. Adica laie or balaie. Fiecare dintre cele trei echipe avea alte atuuri si alte slabiciuni, precum si propriile obiective, dar au sfarsit prin a alege aceeasi solutie la problema. Astfel, Alper si Esther au purces intaii la drum, si SMS-urile care au sosit de la ei pe satelitul francezilor ne-au facut sa o luam pe o alta cale. Alegerea s-a dovedit paguboasa: a fost singura data cand nu am dat crezare camionagiilor, si am regretat, pentru ca drumul pe care am mers noi si francezii a fost si mai greu. Nemtii si Toyota lor au suferit si ei din plin. Au traversat in aproape patru saptamani, iar suspensia pe lame a cedat mai ca pe linia de sosire. In Namibia au dat insa de un obstacol insurmontabil: Esther s-a imbolnavit de malarie si a suferit o complicatie severa (insuficienta renala). Aventura germanilor se incheia abrupt, cu repatrierea lui Esther si vanzarea masinii, nu inainte ca Alper sa o conduca pana la Capul Bunei Sperante. Iata articolul despre ei din revista Mororrad.

Wait wait… Did I say Alper was in Romania with us? Wasn’t him the German dude who joined us on a race across Congo Brazaville in December? Hell, yeah, he is back in our life, and boy, are we glad! First, I’ll give you a recap of what he’d been up to since we split. It was December 2011, and me, Ana and the four Vidals from Toulouse were stuck in Kinshasa, while Alper and his then-girlfriend were sharing our faith, but in Matadi. There was no way any of us would be allowed to enter Angola overland, and we had all the same big decision to make. Give up, fly over, or push forward on routes that aren’t on any map. Do or die. Each of the three teams had a different set up, different strengths and weaknesses and different objectives, but we all ended up choosing the same way out. Alper and Esther left first, and based on their initial SMS we decided to take a different route, which in the end proved even more treacherous. The Germans suffered a lot, so did the Toyo. They crossed in a little under four weeks, breaking the suspension just on the finish line. Then in Namibia disaster hit: Esther was taken down by malaria and kidney failure, which abruptly ended their adventure. After accompanying Esther home, Alper returned to sell the Toyo, not before driving it all the way down to the Cape of Good Hope. Here is their story in Motorrad magazine.

Odata intorsi in Germania, cei doi si-au reluat joburile. Alper este ghid moto si organizeaza tururi in Europa si Turcia. De doua ori pe an traverseaza Romania, iar unul dintre tururi este dedicat chiar tarii noastre. Cum Alper ne-a anuntat sa vine pe Transalpina, nu am stat pe ganduri si am stabilit sa ne gasim in Curtea de Arges. La iesirea din Bucuresti am alimentat pentru prima data intr-o benzinarie romaneasca. Pretul ne-a ars la buzunar!

Back in Germany, they got back to work. Alper is a motorcycling tour guide. If you are a biker and want to head out to the best roads of Europe and Turkey, he’s your guy. Twice a year Alper takes his clients across Romania, so we jumped at the opportunity to get together. Exiting Bucharest I was filling up the tank with Romanian petrol (well… that’s a bit of a stretch, it was just a Romanian gas station) for the first time in quite a heck of a while. The price of petrol: 1,40 Euro/l. Ouch!

Mobra avea pofta de drum. Cum s-a deschis zarea, parca a devenit alta. Aveam intalnire cu Alper in cateva ore, si cand in sfarsit am zarit KTM-ul 690 Enduro, am simtit fluturi in stomac: gasca se reunea!

Ne-am ospatat cu ceafa la gratar si vinul casei, dupa ce am parcat langa 1200 GS-urile nemtilor, in garajul care putea a varza murata. Oricate aveam de povestit, un cuvant domina conversatia: CONGO.

Fusese cea mai dificila etapa din viata noastra. Vremea nu ne-a crutat: ploi torentiale, noroi ‘de bumbac’, mlastini ascunse sub stratul gros de nisip si lut. Am purtat aceleasi haine ude leoarca si pline de noroi zi dupa zi, am dardait in cortul jilav si in sacul asisderea. Mai toata ziua eram la verificat adancimea baltilor si orientare. Asta cat am fost zdraveni la minte. Odata ce oboseala, lipsurile si stresul si-au spus cuvantul, am inceput sa pierdem din concentrare si sa facem greseli. Asa ca in transee cu noi: la sapa, la impins, la pus troliul si alte manevre de gen. Hrana a fost cam panica: prin sate se gasea cate o mana de rosii, cate un avocado, si de fiecare data cumparam (cu remuscari si rusine) tot ce era pe taraba. Am bagat insecte, porumb luat cu rugaminti de la taranci… de cateva ori am luat paste, orez si paine. In Mbuji Mayi si Kamina am fost rasfatati cu adevarate festinuri: nu ne lipsisera nutrientii, cu diversitatea. Insa chiar daca toti am descris etapa respectiva a calatoriilor noastre ca ‘teribila’ si ‘nebuneasca’, tuturor ne-a adus satisfactii sa ne confruntam si depasim limitele. Congo ne-a calit, ne-a facut mai buni, chiar daca si mai putin re-adaptabili la ‘civilizatie’. Din Zambia nu a mai fost vorba de mancat lacuste si sapat cu orele in mocirla, nici de campat in plina furtuna. Ok, cu exceptia fenomenului bizar din Sudan, pe care poate doar un Stie-Tot sa ni-l lamureasca. Suntem dara noi si Alper nebuni ca mult dupa miezul noptii inca mai vorbim despre aventura din Congo? 

   My Tenere was thirsty and it showed. As soon as the horizon opened, the race was on. We were meeting Alper in Curtea in a couple of hours. When we saw the KTM 690 Enduro we felt a tingle in the heart: the gang was reunited!

We had Romanian wine with pork steak, while the garage reeked of pickled cabbage. That’s what Romanian folk does with cabbage in autumn, making our neighbours suspect the biological war has started. No matter how many things we had to chat about, there was one word that kept creeping into our conversation: CONGO. 

It had been the most difficult mental and physical challenge of our lives. It demanded everything. Weatherwise it was no joke: downpours, cotton mud, pockets of swampy water under layers of moving sand. Wearing the same damp muddy clothes and sleeping in a wet tent day in and day out. Most of the day was usually spent with orientation and assessing the terrain. When we were still reasonably sane. Once fatigue and stress took over, we become disorganized, less focused. We started to make mistakes. Then it was digging and operating whatever tool we could harvest to extract us from random swamps, trenches and holes. Finding food was a bit challenging. We subsisted on fruit & veg, insects, scavenged corn or nothing at all for parts of the journey, which was fine with us, but less fine for the kids. We bought pasta and rice three or four times and bread about 5 times during those 4 weeks. I remember the feasts we had in Mbuji Mayi and Kamina: it was not the nutrition, it was the diversity that lacked and that we were cheering back into our lives. But even though we have all described the trip on our respective blogs as ‘horrible’ and ‘crazy’, we enjoyed stretching our limits to new extremes. Congo made us stronger, more focused, albeit less prone to luxuriate in the modern amenities of ‘civilization’. Since Zambia there have been no more bug eating, no more digging for hours in swamps, no more sleeping in rainstorms. Ok, except for that weird Sudan storm, which maybe a brainiac out there could sometime explain to us. Is it crazy then that the two of us and Alper were still talking Congo hours past midnight?

Cu opt luni in urma sase adulti si doi copii dadeau nas in nas cu Africa secreta. Noi, calatorii speram ca Vrajitorul acelui Oz ne va elibera din latul prejudecatilor, ne va sterge ‘rugina’ din oase, ne va incuraja sa radem de imposibil, ne va mijloci redescoperirea inimii si a curajului. Am gasit intr-adevar aventura, si am depasit multe obstacole acolo, atat impreuna, cat si separat, dar mai ales i-am descoperit pe congolezi. Acest neam aparte, despre care nu stiam mai nimic. Vulcanic, rezistent, adaptabil, neobosit. Odata ce ai facut o baie de multime si de pasiune congoleza, nimic nu mai e la fel. La opt luni dupa ce parasisem Oz-ul African, acesta continua sa ne obsedeze. 

Eight months ago our party of six adult and two kids had had an intimate encounter with the unseen Africa. All of us travellers secretly believed that the Wizard of that Oz could free us from our pole of prejudice, remove that routine rust, encourage us to disregard limits, help us rediscover our heart and our courage. We found indeed many adventures and overcame many obstacles on our journey together, just as we did on our separate ways, but most of all we found the Congolese, these special breed of people we knew next to nothing about. The Congolese are volcanic, resilient, relentless, and once you've showered in this, you're hooked. Eight months after returning from the African Land of Oz, we realised that the two of us and Alper are obsessed with our memories of it. 

In zori ne-am luat la revedere. Aveam o idee fixa pentru ziua in curs: sa facem Transfagarasanul.

In the morning we said our goodbyes till next next time.We had a simple plan to make the best of our day: ride the Transfagarasan, arguably one of the best drives in Europe. 

Adica paduri de pin, curbe stranse, grohotisuri, poate o cascada sau doua, un izvor, un lac alpin, stii cum e. Dar drumul asta construit cu atatea sacrificii inseamna mult mai mult. Cand eram pici, aici ne petreceam cam toate vacantele. Imi amintesc cum urcam spre Capra de revelion, prin zapada pana la brau, incarcati cu oale de sarmale. Eram nebuni, era grozav. Eu si Ana am continuat traditia: aici fugeam de la birou pentru o zi sau doua de dat pe serpentine, sau la un gratar, sau in umbra micii cascade, ‘locul nostru’. Aici e lacul care in anumite dimineti luceste misterios si metalic, si de aici am inceput si de asta data urcusul. Am facut insa prima la dreapta din asphalt, in padure.

Hairpins, pine forests, naked rock, maybe a waterfall, a spring or a glacier lake. The staple on this infamous road built in the 70s. But there’s more to Transfagarasan than the call of the bends. 

When I was a kid that's where I was spending most holidays. I remember climbing it on new year's eves, loaded with pots of Romanian dishes, snow up to my waist. It was crazy, it was fun. Me and Ana also have a thing with Transfagarasan, where we would escape during our busy years. There's this small waterfall we love, the weekends we would come braai, the full-throttle drives we pulled just for the sake of it, the sparrow-infested lake at the 166 m high dam. That’s where we started our climb, taking a right turn off the tar, into the forest.  

Plecasem din Bucuresti fara harta, doar cu o vaga idee sa o taiem printre brazi, haituind o culme golasa pe care o tot zaream printre arbori. Am decis sa lasam drumul sa ne duca unde o vrea el, si sa lasam ziua sa se intample.

We had left Bucharest without a map, with just a rough idea of how we would cut across, and chased this barren peak we would occasionally spot through the pines. We gave up control to the journey and let experiences materialize. 

La o cotitura am dat peste acest grup de overlanderi. Nici ei nu pareau sa aiba GPS.

Coursing through we met this team of overlanders. They didn’t appear to own a GPS either.

Intraram pe teritoriul ursilor.

We crossed into bear country. 

Care ursi recoltasera deja zmeura si murele de pe munte, dupa cum se vede din poza. Frecventa si aspectul ‚urmelor’ spun ca din fericire ursii sunt inca pe zona, si ca o duc binisor.

The bears had finished harvesting the season’s berries, which can be clearly seen in the photo below. That means that in spite of the overzealous poachers, our bears are still hanging in there.

Pe astfel de drumuri zambesc intruna. Numai mirosul tare de pini si buruieni de munte strivite sub roata sunt indeajuns.

You’d never see me without a smile on my face on these empty roads. The smell of pine leaves and wild herbs crushed under the wheels give a soul tingling joy. 

Asa.

Like that.

Si asa.

And like that.

Sau asa.

Or like that.

Dar un om trebuie sa mai faca si o pauza…

But a man’s gotta take a break at some point…

Mai ales inainte sa urce dealul

Especially before a climb

Cand panta a sarit de 45 de grade, deja nu mai tineau cauciucurile si mi-ar fi trebuit alta mobra ca sa-I dau de cap. Alta data!

When the slope jumped the 45 degrees limit, my tires gave up and I needed a different bike for the task. Next time!

Muntele nu doar hraneste sufletul, ci si poteleste setea. Ne-am abatut la un parau langa care era parcata o rulota, si unde erau asternute niste scaune si o masa, taman bune pentru popas. Stapanul micii tabere trebuie ca era pe undeva cu treaba. In fata unei atat de modeste gospodarii, insatietatea si tendinta noastra de oraseni de a abuza de resurse limitate sunt de-a dreptul vulgare. Ne-am baut apa, am zis bodgaproste gazdei anonime si ne-am bucurat de viata.

The mountain doesn’t only feed the soul, it also quenches the thirst. We stopped by a spring where a trailer had been parked. The owner must have been out with work. Our city-folk tendencies for inequity, waste and abuse of finite resources always seem vulgar in the face of such humble set-ups. We drank our water in the sun, thankful to the anonymous host and enjoyed being alive. 

Aproape ca era ora pranzului, si am facut cale intoarsa in Transfagarasan, cu tinta Balea. Un drum pe care nu il pot rezuma in cateva cuvinte, o sa zic doar ca ajunge sa il faci o data, ca sa vrei sa repeti experienta.

It was almost lunch time, so we turned back to Transfagarasan. The climb never fails to deliver. It's not a road you can easily summarize, except to say you'll invariably want seconds.

La 2040 de metri altitudine sunt lacul glaciar si Cabana Balea. Iarna poti sa ajungi aici numai din Brasov, dar fiind vara, ne-am luat masa pe terasa. Pastrav in folie, ciorba de burta, placinta de mere... de-ale romanilor. Cum episodul din Top Gear a facut mai multe pentru turism decat toata balbaiala ministerului cu pricina, deja strainii se inghesuie si ei sa guste din aceste bucate si adrenalina pe Transfagarasan si Transalpina.

At 2040 m altitude there’s a glacier lake and a chalet. In winter it is only accessible from Brasov, but as the sun was up we enjoyed our meal on the terrace. Fresh trout, tripe soup, apple pie… Romanian stuff. Nothing too fancy, but if cooked with fresh ingredients and love, can be a welcome discovery. So if you’ve seen the Top Gear episode and you’ve perused the magazines, here’s another reason why you should not exclude Romania from your to-ride-list. Of course give us a shout out, ‘cause even if we’re not around, we can assist with a friendly couch and more.

Multe s-au schimbat de cand nu am mai fost pe aici. S-a umplut de tarabe cu ‚taranisme’ (gemuri, branza, afumaturi diverse). Si e full de turisti (noi am fost intr-o miercuri).

Lots have changed within the year. There’s a heap of tourist activities being developed and the denizens and their traditional produce stalls have multiplied. Smoked bacon, sausages, cheeses, preserves etc. And no, this article has not been sponsored by the inept Romanian ministry of tourism.

Am ridicat din umeri la gandul ca poate toate astea o sa stirbeasca farmecul locului – si am pornit inspre de unde venisem.

Worrying a bit about the potential boom of the industry and of how it could bring down the charm of Transfagarasan – still a lonely road in my book – we started the descent back. 

Nimic nu e mai fain ca abisul verde al vaii brazdate de curbe, unde vantul mai sa te doboare si unde norii intuneca cerul. Am facut drumul asta in toate anotimpurile, si cel mai mult imi place la inceput de iunie, cand zapezile inca nu s-au dus, iar cascadele sunt pline de apa. 

Nothing beats the views, the smell of wind threatening to take you down, the open valley where cloudscapes conglomerate. I’ve driven this road in all seasons and I think early June is best, when snow caps aren’t yet melted and the waterfalls are in full swing.

Am aruncat un ochi in mina abandonata.

We took a peek at the abandoned mine

Ne-am oprit si la Capra, unde cea mai aratoasa militie canina se ocupa cu manatul oilor in stana.

We stopped by our ‘place’, the Goat Falls. The sheep were being herded home by the handsomest canine militia. 

Drumul inapoi in Bucuresti a fost intins si lung, dar a fost bine sa stim unde o sa punem capul jos la noapte. Acasa ne putem odihni alaturi de cei dragi. Am umblat multa vreme prin Africa am vazut multe locuri extrordinare si am intalnit multi oameni buni, iar acum, dupa ce ne-am incarcat putin cu natura, parca avem si mai mare dor de duca. Cum sunt multe de facut si de lamurit, ne suflecam manecile si ne punem pe treaba!

It was a long ride to Bucharest, but we were glad to have such a tangible target to aim at. Home is a place of great meaning, where we can rest and where we can be near to people we care about. We have been away in the wilds of Africa for many months, we’ve seen a lot of amazing places and met many incredibly kind people, and now, after recharging with nature, we are hungry for more. There’s just a lot to sort out. I wonder if I can roll up my sleeves and make all the administrative bullshit that comes with it my bitch.

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7/10/2012

Today we mark 2 years since disaster hit right on the day we were set to go conquer Africa. Surgery, motorbike destroyed, plans reset by 9 bleak months. But today we are also lucky to celebrate 2 awesome full-throttle years of adventure and self-discovery. Thank you all for following, thank you Mother Africa! _____________ Astazi se implinesc 2 ani de cand ziua in care urma sa plecam sa cucerim Africa s-a sfarsit in mod tragic. Operatie, mobra facuta praf, planuri amanate cu 9 luni amare. Dar tot azi suntem norocosi sa putem sarbatori 2 ani intensi, plin de aventura si lectii de viata. Va multumim pentru ca ne urmariti, iti multumim Mama Africa!

[into-the-world-blog]

Viata bate filmul la Radio Guerrilla/ On The Radio

If you can also speak Romanian (:))), listen here to the radio show we featured in last Sunday, the 30th of September:

Daca ati ratat emisiunea Vocea Filmelor de duminica 30/09 la Radio Guerrilla, in care am povestit despre noi, Africa si despre Habarnam cu Irina Nistor o puteti asculta aici

[into-the-world-blog]

Africa 420 – Romania 1

Turcia/ Turkey – Bulgaria - Romania 30/07 - 02/08 

Ca de obicei cand ne-a placut un loc, am stat la taclale pana tarziu, desi a doua zi aveam de taiat Turcia de-a lungul, din Cappadocia pana la tarmul marii Egee. Dimineata a fost panica. 

Intra in scena Ceaiul Turcesc, solutia lichida anti-somnorosi.

We knew the drill. We had a killer time. We came, we saw, we hung with the people, we went to bed late, we forgot to stay with the programme. Next morning our mission was to cut across central Turkey, from Cappadocia to the Aegean coast. Too tired, man, I gotta hit snooze, again. 

Enter the Turkish tea, a perfectly brewed solution for the un-frisky.   

Intre Nevsehir si Kayseri se merge pe fostul Drum al Matasii, dar nici drumul, nici hanurile nu mai sunt ce-au fost, asa ca am tras tare pana in Konya. A fost o zi lunga. Cum am reinceput sa urcam pe podisul central, peisajul a devenit mai dulce, dealurile mai rotunde si albinele din florile soarelui mai zumzaitoare.

    The road from Nevsehir to Kayseri was once dotted with Hans (travellers’ rest houses) and was part of the Silk Road. It doesn’t look that offerable today, so we pushed on to Konya, the most conservative Turkish city. It was a long day. As we started to climb the central plateau, the landscape became sweeter, the rolling hills rounder and the bees on sunflowers buzzier.

In Romania ne-am saturat de legumele ‘turcesti’ fara nici un gust care umplu pietele. Dar asculta la mine, mancatorule de salata, rosia pe care o cumperi in Bucuresti sau Cluj, nu e rosia la care a plivit taranul turc, si nici cea pe care turcul o mananca. Am vazut taranii trudind la camp, asa cum se cuvine. Iar in Afyon le-am incercat roadele. O gustare modesta de rosii, masline si smochine proaspete. Toata lumea din oras era la coada sa-si ia painea pentru cina de Ramadan. O paine traditionala, plata, formata cu mana. In Afyon lipia asta are vreo 80 de cm, la fix pentru o masa si jumatate.

In Romania we are fed up with the tasteless Turkish produce that have been flooding the market. Listen to this, my fellow salad munchers, do not mistake that sorry-ass tomato you buy in Bucharest or Cluj for the real thing. Which is what the hard working Turkish farmer grows, and what the Turkish man eats. We soaked in the images of peasants caring for their crops, tools in hand, like they’re supposed to. And in Afyon we lunched on their tasty yield. A simple snack of tomatoes, olives and figs. Everyone was lining up to get their freshly baked Ramazan pidesi for the fast-breaking iftar meal. This traditional flat bread with a characteristic grid of puffed up pockets of dough is a staple of Ramadan. The Afyon variant is 80 cm long and super thin. A hefty compliment to our meal. 

Pentru ca si climatul variaza semnificativ, fiecare regiune agricola din Turcia este faimoasa pentru anumite legume si fructe. In curand ne-am trezit in patria visinelor, dar cum le trecuse sezonul, am luat visine deshidratate la soare de la o taranca cu ochi verzi si naframa alba. Uneori experimentele noastre culinare ne duc catre si mai interesantele povesti care se afla uneori in spatele celor de-ale gurii. De data asta nu am investigat, ne grabeam sa ne gasim culcus pentru la noapte.   

Turkish produce is regional: we rolled into the sour cherry country, so we bought a handful of organic dried fruits sold streetside by a green-eyed lady. Sometimes our foodie ‘compulsions’ push us to the more interesting stories that food so often tells. Frankly, after so many food-centric reports, this time we couldn’t be bothered. It was about time to find a decent camp spot.   

Punct ochit, punct lovit. Putin fler si ceva indrazneala, si am nimerit cum nu se putea mai frumos, intre doua culmi care bateau direct in vale, un fel de saua Dichiului, dar a lor. 

It was a home-run. Our free-spirited attitude landed us in deer country. 

Am inhalat briza domoala, am strans soarele urias sub pleoape, am stiut ca era din nou o clipa dintre acelea curate, pe bune, cu care natura ne rasfata de atata timp.

We felt the soft wind on our face, saw a giant sun set behind the hill, knowing it was again one of those raw, unfiltered experiences we’ve grown accustomed to feed on. 

Odata nomazi, am devenit liberi. Sa ne alegem unde punem capul pentru o noapte, sa SIMTIM energia care misca totul, sa fim cu ploaia, vantul si cu soarele. Nu ne-am simtit nicicand mai vii, mai prezenti! Pe dealul acela, cu iarba aceea aurie mirosind a vara, cu nevazute lighioane nocturne scotocind fara ragaz in jurul cortului, nu mai aveam nevoie de nimic pentru a fi pe deplin fericiti.

Apoi au venit zorii, si a inceput numaratoarea inversa. Planul era sa facem ultima etapa – Turcia, Bulgaria, Bucuresti – in intervalul pisca-ma-ca-nu-cred de o zi. Asta ne mai ingaduia o ultima zi in Asia, deci ‚hai sa gasim ceva interesant de facut’, am propus, stiind cat tine Ana la asta. Uneori insa, lucrurile interesante te cauta ele pe tine.

Mai intai ma ajuns in Izmir, cu gand sa dam o raita prin Çesme, dar pentru ca infrastructura turceasca e ultra-moderna si noi ne orientam pe o harta rupta dintr-o agenda, pana i-am dat de cap ne-am decis ca nu are rost sa batem atata drum pentru un oras.  

It has been incredibly freeing to move across vast distances for months. To claim our spot for the night, to FEEL that energy that keeps it all together, to experience rain, wind and sun. We’d never felt so alive, so in the moment! On that hill, with those golden grasses shedding smells of summer, and with those unseen beasts scavenging for food throughout the night, we needed nothing more to be happy.

Morning came, and a countdown started. Plan was to do the final leg to Bucharest via Bulgaria – within the pinch-yourself parameters of one day. That would leave us with one more night on Asian soil, ‘so let’s find ways to pipe in some adventure’, I promised, knowing how important that was for my girl. Sometimes, though, adventure looks for you as much as you look for it. 

First, we arrived in Izmir, and because Turkish infrastructure is so complex and we were using a map taken from a notebook, finding the right exit to the seaside town of Çesme was an overkill. 

Orazul Izmir ne-a placut: curat, modern, aerisit, un loc fain pentru un popas de soare pe promenada. 

Cu mintea la cine stie ce, trebuie sa fi aratat cam pierduti in trafic. Ceea ce i-a facut pe doi baieti pe un scuter sa ne intrebe daca suntem ok. Bafta noastra. Pentru ca nu aveam nevoie de ajutor, dar nu puteam refuza invitatia lor la Adana kebap. No, kebap stie mai toata lumea ce este, dar varietatea asta, care vine din sud-estul Turciei, e speciala. Carnea se toaca manual, se modeleaza manual. Jumatate de ora mai tarziu verificam cele de mai sus pe un esantion de patru bucati, in biroul lui Mehmet, impreuna, desigur, cu amicul lui, Tümer. 

   Izmir itself looked neat and trendy, a nice place to stop and sun-gaze. Which we did, along the waterfront. 

Nerding-out on the enlightening thought of the day, we must have looked a bit lost in traffic. Not a bad look, I’d say, because it led to good stuff. Two dudes on a moped approached us and asked if they could help with directions. We were fine, thanks. Shouldn’t we all celebrate that fact with some lunch? they said. Adana kebap? Kebap is nothing special – but this south-eastern Turkish variety most definitely is. Hand-diced hand-sculpted, juicy. Half an hour later we were all dissecting our respective samples in the laid back office of Mehmet, together with his buddy, Tümer. 

Am aflat ca Mehmet e mecanic si pasionat de enduro. Candva speram sa-l incurajam in Romaniacs. Sau macar sa-l avem aici la o bere. Am petrecut cateva ore in atelierul lui: si el si Tümer sunt oameni de miloane, dintr-o bucata; ne-am descoperit multe in comun. Mai multe poze aici.

It turned out that Mehmet is a mechanic and enduromaniac. One day we hope to cheer him as 'Romaniac'. We spent a few hours with the guys: both totally into bikes and totally in sync with what we dig as well. Check out more pics here. 

Turcii ne-au intrebat cum m-am schimbat ca motociclist si cum ne-am schimbat ca oameni. La prima intrebare e usor de raspuns, pentru ca indiferent de ce motoare am avut si cate wheelie-uri am facut, azi drumul pe care vreau sa ma dau nu e de asfalt. A doua intrebare imi place la nebunie: am putea scrie o carte pe tema asta. Dar nu o sa incerc sa fac asta aici. Acum doi ani jumate strada de langa casa era murdara de benzina din motorul meu, iar eu eram in ambulanta. Acum paisprezece luni ne aflam im mijlocul unei autostrazi din Italia, cu o masina fara distributie, dar incarcata cu Yamaha noastra si prea multe bagaje. Viata se intampla repede. Suntem fericiti si recunoscatori ca am putut duce la bun sfarsit acest trip. Nu m-am putut gandi la nimic altceva multa vreme, chiar daca uneori ne indoiam amandoi ca il vom face. Daca visezi la aventura, fa-o, nu va fi niciodata un moment mai bun ca acum.

‚Gata masa. Hai sa mergem’. ‚Dar n-ai nimic de mesterit la mobra?’ si-a dat o palma peste frunte Mehmet. Ba bine ca nu, Heidenaul spate e praf. 

They asked how have I changed as a rider and how have us both changed as human beings. It is easy to answer the first, because no matter what I’ve done before, how many wheelies I’ve pulled and what bikes I rode, the great outdoors has had the biggest impact on what I can do now, and what I want to do next on two wheels. The latter question I love: we could spend days answering it. But I’m not going to do that now. Two years ago the sidewalk near my place had petrol from my Yamaha all over it, and I was taken by ambulance. 14 months ago we were stuck in the middle of an Italian highway with a broken car filled with my Yamaha and too much luggage. Life travels by so quickly.  We are both so happy and thankful that we were able to complete this journey. It was all I could think about for a long time and something once we both couldn’t dare to set out to do. If you too dream of adventure, do it, there’s never a better time than now. 

Lunch done, ready to go. ‘Do you need anything done?’ said Mehmet in a classic ‚why the hell didn’t we think of that’ fashion. Why not discard the shredded Heidenau?

Am asudat siroaie pana l-am dat jos de pe janta: caldurile din desert l-au facut una cu metalul. Alti motoristi, amici sau clienti, unii doar in trecere, s-au bucurat de ocazie ca sa intre in vorba si sa dea o mana de ajutor. 

We ended up sweating buckets just to pull the tyre off the rim: that desert heat had baked it well. More biker friends and clients showed up, everybody wanting to participate, because people are so friendly here that any small detail like this is just a reason to stop and chat and make friends. 

Cu parere de rau insa, era cazul sa ne vedem de drum. Multumim din inima, prieteni! Pe data viitoare!

Time to leave these lovely chaps and hit Foça. Thank you from our hearts, guys, see you next time!

Foça e un orasel linistit asezat in capul unei peninsule. Din cauza ca e la Marea Egee, albastrul incepe chiar de la pontoanele pe care localnicii o ard la o baie sau o barfa. 

Foça is a quiet little town sitting on the tip of a peninsula. Because of the Aegean Sea, deep blue stretches up to the pontoons of Eskifoça (Old Foça), where locals gather daily to bathe and hang out.  

Multe dintre insulitele care se vad in golfuri sunt de fapt extensii ale muntilor de pe uscat. In aparenta cuvantul ‚arhipelag’ desemna initial chiar aceste insule si Marea Egee!?

Many of the islands dotting the bays and coves are actually extensions of the mountains on the mainland. Apparently the word ‚archipelago’ was originally used for them and the Aegean Sea!?

Zona e chipurile protejata, dar plajele si toata coasta sunt pline de gunoaie, asa ca pentru spectacolul apusului ne-am intors in orasul vechi. Soarele si marea ne-au amintit, ciudat, de desertica Namibie. ‚Oare ce-or face acum amicii nostri Himba? Cu cine bea Jagermeister Vital? O fi tare frig in Sossusvlei?’

We found the small beaches and the coastal area too dirty for something that is supposed to be under some sort of environmental protection, so we went back to the old town for the sunset. The sinking sun made us think of Namibia, where we had experienced the most glorious skyscapes, and we wondered ‘what are our Himba pals talking about right now?’, ‘who is Vital drinking with?’, ‘is it cold in the Namib?’.

Pentru cina ne-am indreptat catre portul pescaresc. Care noaptea parea si mai romantic.

It was time to feed ourselves. By night, the old town is even more romantic. 

Tavernele pline de oameni, multi turisti, meniul simplu, dar bun: calamar pane si midii umplute cu pilaf, ca deh, asta mananca ei in fiecare zi.

The fishing harbor had filled with people, mostly tourists, who strolled  about and dined on the local staple: deep fried calamari and stuffed mussels. 

Pescarii isi gatisera si ei un peste si il mancau tot pe barca, si zau daca nu arata mai bine decat ce aveam noi in farfurie. Un nene a tras langa noi o toneta cu ceva de rontait neidentificabil. Am gustat si ne-am edificat: migdale crude, cu gheata. Imediat dupa asta am mers sa ne intindem cortul pe o plaja plina de cioburi si capace de bere.

The fishermen were also enjoying their meal right on their boats, and I must say that looked more tempting than the regular seafood joints. A man was selling some unidentifiable snack on ice: fresh almonds! The last bite before pitching camp on a glass’n beer caps littered beach. 

Ai vazut ‚Cosmarul de pe strada Elm’ cand erai pusti? Intr-unul dintre filmele seriei e o scena in care mana lui Freddy Kruger sfasaie cu lamele ei de cutit tapetul, si odata cu el granita dintre real si imaginar. Dormeam bustean cand vantoasa a devenit cosmarul nostru, iar un bat de cort mana lui Freddy. Supra-tensionat, batul s-a rupt, a perforat foaia de cort, si ne-a trezit. Vantul a reorganizat instant calabalacul dinauntru. In prima faza eram prea somnambuli ca sa gandim limpede, si ne-am amagit ca tine sa proptim cortul cu pietre. Normal ca s-a rupt in alta parte imediat. A doua miscare a fost sa scoatem toate betele si sa incercam sa dormim cu cortul peste noi, ca un pled. Dar nu  fluturatul panzei la un milimetru de fata a fost insuportabil, ci fasaitul. Asa ca ne-am tras saltelele afara, si am dormit pe plaja, ca in adolescenta in Vama Veche si Costinesti. 

Have you watched ‚A Nightmare On Elm Street’ as a kid? In one of the installments of the francize, there was a scene when Freddy Kruger thrusts his arm with blade-covered fingers through wallpaper, nullifying the threshold between real and imaginary. We were sound asleep when the wind became our nightmare, and a snapped tent pole our Freddy. The pole ripped through the outer layer, waking us up. Wind took over. First we were too sleepy to think clearly and we tried to keep the tent in place with rocks. It only caused another part of it to break. Then we tried to remove the structure and sleep inside as it was. The noise itself was more unbearable than the feeling of fluttering fabric against our face. So we pulled our mattresses out, and slept like we used to on the Romanian seaside during our teenage years.

In plan secund sunt trei rulote imense, in fiecare dintre ele locuind cate un pensionar italian. Dimineata a fost minunata, doar eram pe plaja, nu? Pacat ca a trebuit sa dau un sut unui scutec de sugar folosit ca sa imi eliberez papucul!

Am facut o baie in apa limpede ca cristalul si asta a fost tot.

In the background, three enormous caravans, inhabited by three Italian retirees who had been living on that beach for a while. The morning view was splendid, and the wind softer. If only the beach wasn’t so appallingly dirty: on waking up I had to kick a used nappy off my flip-flops. Yikes!

We took a swim in the gloriously clear water, and moved on.

Mai aveam numai cativa kilometri de Asia pana in Çanakkale, al doilea oras asezat pe doua continente dupa Istanbul. La intrarea in oras e o macheta a legendarului cal troian. Conform Iliadei lui Homer, asta a pus capat asediului de zece ani al Troiei (pe care cercetatorii de azi au decis sa o accepte ca fiind in catunul pe langa care trecusem mai devreme).

We had few kilometers of Asia left, before crossing in Çanakkale, the second Turkish city situated on two continents. Outside town there’s a replica of the legendary Trojan horse. According to Homer’s Iliad, this thing ended the ten year siege of ancient Troy (which contemporary scholars have agreed to place in the small village we passed on earlier). 

Calul de lemn din filmul ‚Troia’ se afla tot in Çanakkale. Chiar langa portul de unde ferry-urile trec stramtoarea Dardanele din ora in ora. Ca sa economisim timp a doua zi, am luat o gustare rapida si am prins bacul de zece seara: orasul era plin de energie, noaptea calda, dar gandurile noastre departe. 

The wooden horse from the movie Troy is also exhibited in Çanakkale: it’s an improved design. Next to it, the ferry docks, with boats crossing the Dardanelles strait every hour. To save time in the morning, we grabbed a bite and took the 10 p.m.: the town was vibey, the night was warm, but it was hard to be in the moment, our minds drifting to past adventures. 

Calatoria noastra a schimbat felul in care ne vedem pe noi insine. Mi-am inchipuit intotdeauna ca sa merg cu iubita mea in Africa va fi grozav, dar habar nu aveam cat ma va implini pe plan personal. Din prima luna in Maroc, si pana in ultimele zile petrecute in desert, cu momente transformatore si o munca de ‚echipa’ care ne-a intrecut asteptarile, Africa ne-a oferit paisprezece dintre cele mai intense luni din viata. Incercarea cea mai mare va fi de fapt sa mentinem ritmul.

Alea Jacta Est. Eram in peninsula Galipoli, inapoi in Europa. Ne-a fost imposibil sa petrecem ultima noapte in cort, asa cum ne-am dorit. Pentru noi asta a fost si simbolic, si trist. Cortul nostru in care traisem atatea, avea, in sfarsit, el nevoie de noi. Intotdeauna exista si mai bine, si o sa avem ocazia sa o dovedim. Traisem ultimul nostru apus de nomazi, dar vor mai fi si altele, daca vom face ceea ce trebuie.

This journey has redefined how we see ourselves. I always thought that riding my bike across Africa with my love would be awesome, but never imagined it would be quite as rewarding it has turned out to be. From the first month in Morocco to the last days spent in the searing desert, with a couple of life-changing events and a ‘team’ performance that exceeded even our most optimistic expectations, Africa gave us fourteen of the most remarkable months of our lives. We are now facing the challenge to build on the legacy of these months.

It was done. We were on the Gallipoli peninsula, back in Europe. We couldn’t spend the last night in the tent. For us it was symbolic, and sad. The tent had taken us thru thick and thin, and now it needed us to take care of it. There’s always a better way to do things, and we’ll get our chance. That had been our last sunset as nomads, but there will be another, if we do what’s right.

Dardanelele arata mai degraba ca un rau linistit, decat ca una dintre cele mai dificile cai maritime din lume. In zona cea mai ingusta nu are cu mult peste un kilometru latime! Am rams la micul dejun pe terasa, sa admiram privelistea si entuziasmul chelnerului, care nu contenea sa aduca pe masa cantitati impresionante de mancare. Oua moi, telemea si cascaval, salata, masline, covrigi turcesti cu susan, ceai, gem, iar oua (sub forma unei omlete cu legume care se numeste menemen), suc de portocale, si chiar pepene. Nu imi imaginez ca cineva poate da gata toate astea, si oricum nu a mai fost cazul sa mancam nimic toata ziua.

The Dardanelles looked more like a winding river than one of the most hazardous waterways in the world. At its narrowest it is hardly over a kilometer wide. We lingered by the waterfront while the super jolly waiter kept forking out an amazing breakfast: boiled eggs, white and yellow cheese, veggies, olives, simit (Turkish bagel), tea, jam, more eggs! (in the shape of menemen, a Turkish dish with onion, tomato and green pepper), orange juice, even watermelon. I don’t think there is anyone actually capable to eat all that, and indeed we never needed to eat again that day.  

  Ultima oprire inainte de granita a fost in Edirne (Adrianopol), fosta capitala a Imperiului Otoman inainte de Constantinopol. Dupa ce trecusem pe langa de multe ori in trecut, era momentul sa vizitam capodopera arhitecturii clasice otomane, moscheea Selimiye. Cladirea domina orasul, iar minaretele de 83 de metri sunt cele mai inalte din lumea araba.

Our last stop before the border was Edirne (Adrianople), the former capital of the Ottoman Empire before Constantinople took over. After passing by it many times in the past, we were finally going to visit a masterpiece of classical Ottoman architecture, the Selimiye Mosque. It dominates the city, and at 83m its minarets are the tallest in the Muslim world. 

Dar geniul arhitectului ai carui ucenici vor proiecta la tarziu Taj Mahalul straluceste nu in monumentalitatea exteriorului, ci in simplitatea interiorului. Moscheea (si complexul de curti interioare si scoli coranice) este sit protejat UNESCO.

But the genius of the architect whose apprentices would later design the Taj Mahal doesn’t shine in the monumentality of the exterior, but in the simplicity of the interior. The mosque and its complex of schools is an UNESCO World Heritage site.

Selimiye a fost proiectata sa doboare recordul detinut la acea vreme de Sfanta Sofia, care avea cea mai inalta cupola din lume. Spatiul interior este nesegmentat, simetric, fluid, asftel ca nisa sacra care indica directia catre Mecca (mihrab) este vizibila din orice punct.

At that time the dome of Hagia Sophia was the largest in the world  and Selimiye was to surpass it. Under an octagonal central dome the space flows  symmetrical, unsegmented, allowing the mihrab (which points to Mecca) to be seen from any location within the mosque. 

  Lumina inunda interiorul calm, perfect echilibrat.

Light floods this culmination of a lifelong search for perfection. 

Dupa aceasta pauza de tocilari, am trecut prima granita la care nu a fost cazul sa ne scoatem nici macar castile. Dintr-o data eram inconjurati de familiar. In afara de limba si de alfabet, totul ne era cunosct. Traversasem Bulgaria de multe ori, dar pe fuga si noaptea, si nu aveam idee ca e atat de asemanatoare cu Romania. Am cumparat o harta dintr-o benzinarie si ne-am propus sa ne grabim cat vom putea. Orase prafuite, asfalt ieftin, o statiune simpatica de ski cocotata de un munte, si cafea intr-o bezinarie ca cele pe care le proiectam acum un car de ani. A fost o amiaza stranie, in care ne indreptam care ceva ce ceva ce ne era cunoscut, dar in-strainat. Noi nu mai eram aceiasi, era limpede, dar speram oare ca si destinatia noastra sa se fi schimbat? Era o singura cale sa aflam:

After the nerdy intermission, we crossed the first border in ages where we didn’t need to remove not even our helmets. Suddenly we were surrounded by familiar things. We had crossed Bulgaria without stopping many times before, but always in the night, so we were not aware it looked so weirdly similar to Romania. Except for the language and obviously for the Cyrillic alphabet, nothing felt foreign, not even the people. We bought a map from a gas station and set out to cross this strangely ‘Romanian’ country as fast as we could. Dusty provincial towns, dilapidated roads, a ski resort on top of a mountain, and coffee in a gas station just like the ones we had designed and built what it felt like ages ago. It was a surreal afternoon, progressing to an inevitable that we somehow imagined and knew, yet didn’t perceive, nor were we sure about. To be the same people we could not pretend we were, but did we hope to find significant, or should I say ‘satisfactory’ change at our destination as well? There was only one way to find out:

  Pe acei ultimi kilometri pana in Bucuresti am avut mult de cugetat. Calatorind, vagabondand, razbisem pana departe si devenisem liberi. In loc sa ne imaginam lumea, o vazusem asa cum e. Natura ne-a demonstrat ca suntem niste pitici, iar oamenii, majoritatea niste straini, ne-au primit cu altruism si infinita generozitate. Intrebarea este cum vom valifica aceste experiente exceptionale. O sa traim din amintiri sau vom continua sa crestem? Apusul peste Romania a fost la fel de frumos ca in oricare alt colt al lumii, si am intrat in capitala.

On that last stretch before Bucharest we had a lot on our minds. Traveling, vagabonding we had reached far and wide, we had achieved freedom. Instead of imagining how things might be, we were so lucky to see them as they are. We were humbled by nature, blown away by its wildlife and touched by the kindness and limitless generosity of total strangers. The question now is where it all goes from here. Do we look back, and say: ‘Well that was wonderful, but it all will kind of go downhill from here?’The sun set over Romania, and it was just as beautiful as elsewhere in the world.

Mama ne astepta in apartamentul gol in care o camera e plina cu viata noastra ambalata in cutii de carton. Ana a deschis garajul, am parcat motorul si am scos aparatul foto, totul pe pilot automat. Eram epuizat.

My mom was waiting for us in the empty apartment where one room contains our previous life packed in cardboard boxes. Ana opened the garage for me. I parked the bike and removed the camera. I was on cruise control, exhausted, not really registering what was going on. 

Chiar si azi imi amintesc cu dificultate detaliile din acea seara de august. Fiecare molecula din ce ma inconjura atunci imi era familiara, dar nu si cataclismul mut dinlauntru. Parintii Anei au sosit cu trenul abia dupa ce ne dezbracasem de echipamentul soios si facusem dus, cand aratam din nou ca odinioara. Am vazut posterul pe care mi-l dedicase Ana in 2010, cand soseam din Germania, ud la piele si bocna, dar calare pe primul meu Tenere pe care urma sa il conduc pana in Africa.

Even now I struggle to remember those details, and I fail. I knew every molecule of that outside, but not the quiet cataclysm unfolding inside. 

Ana’s parents were on the train, and when they arrived, we had already tossed the smelly gear and showered, as if we had never left. I saw the poster Ana had made for me in 2010, when I arrived there from Germany, soaked and shivering with cold, but a victor on my first Tenere, the one that should have taken us to Africa. 

Am observat ca mama Anei ne facuse un afis de bun-venit!

I noticed that Ana’s mum had made a note for us saying ‘welcome back!’

  O ora mai tarziu continuam sa imbratisam si sa ne emotionam. Ne fusese dor de toti, si lor le fusese dor de noi. Dar dragostea care ne leaga a supravietuit despartirii. Asa ca nu ai de ce te teme, visatorule, de drumul lung la care tanjesti. Noi ne-am riscat ‚sensul’, si am crescut, am devenit mai buni. Am acceptat provocarea, si asta ne-a ajutat sa ne depasim limitele. Nu avem regrete, nici macar pentru ca aventura s-a sfarsit pentru moment, pentru ca, asa cum scrie pe simpaticul ‚trofeu’ primit in dar de la prieteni, urmatoarea aventura depinde numai de noi.

    An hour later we were hugging more people and choking with more emotions. We had missed these people, as they had missed us. But the love that connected us survived the distance. So why shouldn’t you, dreamer of the open road, fear to follow it? We risked our significance, and we’ve grown, we became better. We challenged ourselves, and it stretched our limits. We’ll never regret it, and we do not regret that the adventure is over for now, because, as our friends wrote on this quirky ‚trophy’, the reality and the happiness of the next 'round' depends on us.

[into-the-world-blog]

Minunata anormalitate/ Beautiful Freaks

Turcia/ Turkey 28 - 30/07

Pe la jumatatea diminetii celei de-a patra zi de cand suisem la bordul navei, nu mai eram singuri pe mare. Mediterana parea neschimbata, dar orizontul era intrerupt de siluetele catorva vapoare. In sfarsit! Am asteptat ca ceva extraordinar sa aiba loc, dar nu a urmat nimic deosebit. Viata la bord era prea usoara, iar trecerea dintre cele doua continente ni se parea total anti-climatica. Ritualurile noastre nocturne obisnuiau pana de curand sa includa urcatul unui deal (nu era cazul, aici aveam la dispozitie scari), curatatul unui petec de pamant de buruieni inalte pentru a face loc cortului (dar arhitectii se ocupasera deja de asta), cuibaritul in sac, sub stele, in jur de 7 (posibil, dar ar fi trebuit sa dormim pe punte). Sufeream o criza teribila de postpartum pentru Afriica, si ne rasfatam masochist cu amintiri si planuri de intoarcere. Traversarea cu feribotul nu avea destul miez ca sa ne tina in priza cu ceva, si sincer, dura de o vesnicie. Dupa ce ne marinasem in suc propriu zile la rand, ne simteam mintea ca o marmelada, muschii moi si ochii incetosati de lenenveala in hotelul pe ape. 

Abia la pranz orizontul s-a deschis, si am vazut Asia in forma orasului Mersin. Soferii si-au manevrat TIR-urile, transpiratia a curs rauri, pana cand si noi si Tenere am ajuns de pe vapor, pe pamant turcesc. Eram in Asia, dar nu cea care trebuise. Ne-am consolat cu faptul ca granita aceasta avea sa fie usor de rezolvat. Pentru ca - dintr-un motiv sau altul - Turcia mai aspira la aderarea la UE, formalitatile sunt simple si gratuite. Nici vorba de vamuirea vehiculului, nici macar de viza, si bineinteles ca la doar cateva minute de cand ne aflam in fata ghiseului, ni s-a oferit ceai turcesc in semn de bun venit. Singurul aspect negativ: pretul benzinei, nu mai putin de 2 euro pe litru! Nu imi imaginez cum se descurca turcii. Poate ii ajuta fabuloasa gastronomie locala.    

About half-morning on the fourth day since we had climbed aboard, the ship was not alone anymore. The sea appeared to be as changeless as always, but in the early haze of sun, a couple of ships - of which not a glimpse had been given before - littered the horizon. At last! We were waiting for something big to happen today, but again, nothing did. Our guilty indulgence was nursing the postpartum of leaving Africa behind and planing how to come back. We felt cheated by the mellowness of the easy life onboard, the seamless transition between two continents. My usual nightly rituals used to include climbing a hill (no need, we have stairs), clearing a bit of bush (the interior designer had taken care of that), hitting the sack around 7 p.m. under the stars (couldn't, unless we slept on deck). Sailing just wasn't jazzy enough to keep us interested. And frankly, it was taking a LONG. DAMN. TIME. After marinating on the sea since forever, we had marmalade for brains, flabby muscles and cloudy eyes. 

Only at noon the horizon cracked open and Asia gleamed in the form of Mersin. Truckers maneuvered, sweat flowed, hours passed, and us and bike were out of the ship gut and on Turkish soil. Not the bit we had planned, but as least this side the border was really easy. Turkey is striving for some reason to join the EU, so formalities were a breeze. There was no talk of bogus customs clearance, even if we had arrived in a port. No costs, not even a visa, and of course that minutes into the process we were sipping on free turkish tea. The only downside was the abominable price for petrol: 2 bloody euros per liter! Frankly, I don't know how these people cope. Maybe the world renewed turkish cuisine helps. 

Am testat teoria asta cu delicatesa din poza de mai sus: un carnat bine condimentat, la gratar. 'Bucatarul' a plecat in bucatarie cu un buchet de patrunjel si menta, si s-a intors cu o salata peste care a presarat sumak. Ceaiul, desigur, din partea casei. Mini festinul a contracarat lipsa noastra de entuziasm pentru lumea la care urma sa ne re-adaptam. Cu prima ocazie am evadat de la drumul principal, catre Parcul National Ala Dağlar, unde masivul Demirkazık umple zarea.

What we have here is a southern special: spicy sausage on charcoal. The 'chef' carried a spring of fresh parsley and mint into the kitchen to chopped us a sumak-sprinkled salad. Of course tea was still on the house, and it did a lot to pop my bubble of scorn for the world we were to adapt back into. As soon as I could, I took my bike off the main tar, to where the Mt. Demirkazık of the Ala Dağlar National Park blocks the sun.

In curand eram din nou singuri, noi si motorul. Uitate gandurile deprimante si tristetea; locul asta ne inspira la bine, la planuri pentru cum sa ne intoarcem si sa exploram si mai adanc, si mai intim Africa.

Soon there was not an ounce of steaming memories left, either — it was again just us and the bike. It was a great place to start making peace internally with our feelings for Africa and to strengthen our resolution to nomad back on its less beaten tracks as soon as we could. 

Am traversat, din ce in ce mai veseli, sate atipite in umarul muntelui, magarusi lenevind la soare, verdele nesfarsit si aromat al dealurilor. O zi pe placul meu.


Keyword: KaBOOM. I was a spring of energy, and it felt great. Dormant villages, donkey lazying, the smell of mountain grasses. Our day was happening, right there. 

Dupa amiaza ne gandeam deja la un loc de campat. In libertate, normal, pentru ca nu e nimic mai fain decat sa te intinzi pe pamant si sa simti cum energia circula liber intre natura si tine. Unul dintre cele mai bune locuri pentru asta e in centrul Anatoliei: Cappadocia.  

Wild camping is rad, because it gives us unrestrained chances to revive our connection to our environment in an intimate way. But what good is a camping spot if it’s on fenced land? Cappadocia, situated in central Anatolia solves this problem, offering access to plenty of unclaimed 'properties'.

Locul in care ne-am oprit trebuie sa fi gazduit candva calatori mai veseli. In stadiul acela al aventurii noastre moto, eram consumati de grija proximitatii cu locul din care ne incepusem odiseea, si de contradictii legate de itinerariu. Nu eram nici pregatiti sa trecem linia de 'sosire', nici in postura de a continua in conditii optime spre est. Buget, echipament, GPS - doar cateva dintre ratiunile pentru a face un pitstop mai serios. Felul in care calatorisem ne facuse si rau, si bine. 'Intimitate' devenise un cuvant gol, ziua o petreceam priponiti de un scaun motorizat, iar noptile intr-o camera de panza de nici 3 metri patrati. Dar asta era casa noastra mobila, o importanta constanta intr-o lume mereu in schimbare. Si chiar si atunci cand lucrurile nu erau chiar in regula, izbutisem sa ne tinem cu dintii de un minim haz-de-necaz, pentru ca se gasesc mai usor solutii la probleme cu o gluma si optimism. De data asta insa, vedeam viitorul mai sumbru. De fapt, nu era mare lucru de discutat. Romania era prea aproape ca sa nu fie destinatia evidenta pentru un popas, sa ne tragem sufletul, si sa ne organizam calabalacul. Ocolul prin Cappadocia, cu gand sa ne pierdem o zi-doua urma printre seminee de lava si canioane roz, era doar un semn ca ne aflam inca in faza de negare. 

Those stars had seen quieter campers. By this time into our two-man show we had grown quite anxious at the proximity with our departure spot and we had an itinerary to plan. We were not ready to hit that invisible finish line yet, nor were we able to to continue our quest further east. Moneywise, gearwise, GPSwise, we needed a pitstop badly. Traveling like we did had done both good and bad to our longtime relationship. Our living space had shrunk to a moving chair by day, and to a 3 sqm room by night. But that was our mobile home, an essential constant in an ever changing world. Even when things got sketchy, we managed to hold onto our jeu d’esprit, a low-stakes way to keep a hand in the game, while trying to deal with the problem with some charm and a few laughs. Which is more than what could be said for what was going on now. Really, though, there wasn't much to discuss. Unavoidably, we were going to Romania to sort our shit out for a while. Coming to Cappadocia to get lost among its surreal fairy chimney and pink canyons was just being in denial. 

Spre norocul nostru, Cappadocia ne-a dat mai mult decat am sperat. Acum 10 ani Ana petrecea o mare parte din an in Turcia, si imi povestise de multe ori despre un paradis offroad. In Turcia nu ma aflam pentru prima data, dar in Cappadocia da. Eram nerabdator sa verific informatia. 

Luckily Cappadocia delivered. 10 years ago Ana was spending a lot of time in Turkey and this place, she told me many times, was an offroad paradise. It was not my first time in Turkey, but it was in Cappadocia. I was eager to verify that information.

Cu 3800 de ani in urma, pe final de Epoca Bronzului, Hittitii incepusera sa se instaleze in Cappadocia, care avea sa fie colonizata si de Persi, si de Romani, devenind in secolul al 4-lea un refugiu pentru primii crestini. Turcii au sosit mult mai tarziu, dar au avut o politica de toleranta pentru comunitatile de calugari trogloditi. Asta a facut ca regiunea sa aiba in continuare un destin izolat de restul natiunii, desi teritoriile istorice sunt vag delimitate din punct de vedere geografic (la est de Eufrat si la sud de Muntii Taurus). Cappadocia este practic un podis situat la peste 1000 m altitudine, presarat cu vulcani stinsi (unul de aproape 4000 de m inaltime). Semi-arid, fara acces la o sursa importanta de apa, locul asta nu arata ca nimic altceva pe Pamant.

3800 years ago, during the late Bronze Age, the  Hittites started to settle on this land which was to be colonized by Persians and Romans, until becoming a refuge for early Christians in the 4th century. The arrival of Turkish didn't disturb life in Cappadocia, which grew even more isolated from the rest of the region. The relief played its part. Vaguely delimited by the upper Euphrates to the east and by the Taurus Mountains to the south, historical Cappadocia consists of a high plateau over 1000 m in altitude. Volcanic peaks, one of which reaching almost 4000 m, piercing through a semi-arid, landlocked territory. There's nothing quite like it on Earth. 

Acum 10 milioane de ani aici era un infern vulcanic. Literalmente. Diferentele de temperatura intre straturile de lava au generat o armonie cromatica care face uitat trecutul geologic atat de violent al Cappadociei. Eruptiile au continuat pana nu demult sa construiasca un peisaj suprarealist. Este o destinatie mondiala de top pentru safari cu balonul, si trebuie sa fie intr-adevar fain sa plutesti deasupra unui astfel de loc. 

10 million years ago this was an inferno of bubbling volcanos. Temperature differences of the lava layers generated a soft color harmony that speaks nothing of such a violent geological past. The eruptions continued until recent times, further shaping a surreal landscape. It's a world renowned ballooning destination, and indeed, it must be wonderful to float above such a beautiful place.

Am plecat din satul Göreme, centrul turistic al regiunii, catre Ürgüp, printre pliurile de lava din Valea Rosie.    

We set off from Göreme village, the tourist hub to the region, towards Ürgüp, through the pinkish folds in the Red Valley tuff.   

Panorama cerea o gustare, cu picioarele atarnand deasupra minunatului anormal. 

The view required a snack, feet dangling above more beautiful geological freaks. 

Acolo unde stratul de 100-150 metri grosime de lava solidificata este acoperita de un bazalt rezistent la eroziune, Cappadocia e acoperita de stranii coloane. Seminee de lava, inalte, galbate la baza, suple catre capitelul de piatra, macinate de eoni de ape meteorice si vant, nascande ici si colo din desertul de cenusa vulcanica. 

Where some sort of erosion resistant basalt caps the softer, 100-150 m thick tuff stratum, the Cappadocian land is populated with strange columns. These are hoodoos (also called fairy chimneys), tall, totem pole-shaped spires of rock, shaped over millennia by flood waters and wind, protruding from the bottom of the arid consolidated volcanic ash.    

Peisajul selenar ne-a alinat dorul de Africa. Eram in desert, dar ma simteam din nou ca pestele in apa. 

The fragmentary, Dadaist moonscape was proper detox for our Africa postpartum. I was again in my prime environment. 

Am urmat o poteca ingusta pana intr-un sat ascuns in vegetatia uscata care umplea valea. Un barbat calare pe magar ne-a aruncat o privire gen 'de pe ce planeta ati aparut?', si asta nu ne-a mirat prea tare. Pentru ca daca o decada in urma Cappadocia isi primea turistii fara sa-si lepede traditiile, astazi regiunea e inundata de vizitatori, care rareori ajung in astfel de sate. Nevazute de ochii turistilor, caisele anatoliene sunt cultivate in vai, femeile cu batice albe coc gözleme acasa. Viata cappadociana 'in exil' merge mai departe. Acolo unde Ana isi amintea drumuri de pietris, am gasit o retea eficienta de sosele. Avanos nu mai era un catun de olari, ci un orasel in toata regula, cu propriul hotel Hilton. Sigur, nu trebuie sa ne temem de modern, si poate ca e buna democratizarea Cappadociei, unde nu mai vin acum doar hippioti. Dar apetitul omului pentru profit, se stie, are putine (sau deloc) limite. Ana, cautand in zadar semnele unei Cappadochii de altadata, devenea din ce in ce mai trista. Imaginile de mai jos sunt facute acum mai mult de zece ani in Valea Dragostei.

We took a small path that eventually freewheeled us through a diminutive village hidden in the bush-littered valley. A man on a donkey gave us the 'what planet are you coming from' look. No wonder. If a decade ago Cappadocia was a place where the traditional life magically coexisted with the arrival of tourism industry, today that trickle of vacationers has become a flood, and such villages have become almost extinct. Anatolian apricots are still grown in the valleys and gözleme still cooked on hot plates at home, but tourists are rarely aware of all this. Where Ana spoke of dusty gravel now lays an efficient network of tarred roads. Avanos, where she once informally played with clay, has become a proper town and pottery legend, with its own Hilton resort. Of course, we must not fear modernization, and I suppose it is more democratic  to allow more than the regular hippies into the region. But man's appetite for profit has little if any boundaries, and for Ana it was difficult to look in vain for traces of lost Cappadocia. These are photos from the Love Valley taken more than ten years ago. 

Peisajul si-a pastrat intacta magia. Ne-am zis ca eram deja prea norocosi sa ne tina inca Heidenaul pe spate, dar ziua noastra tocmai devenea si mai faina. Undeva intre Avanos si nu-stiu-unde, am fost ademeniti de roca orbitor de alba. 

The landscape has retained its mesmerizing allure. We thought the absence of punctures in our well worn Heidenau would be reward enough, but somewhere between Avanos and who-knows-where, white sandstone started glowing. 

Tot depanand amintiri, filosofand si glumind pe tema sexului anormal al mamei natura, nimerisem din intamplare intr-un loc cu adevarat de basm. Culorile, texturile si profilul neregulat al terenului alcatuiau un peisaj nepamantesc in care yang-ul motorului meu isi gasea yin-ul. 

Romanticizing the past, talking and riffing an occasional fully formed joke about the rocky genitalia of mother earth, we had effortlessly rolled into a particularly fantasyland section. Any sense of order and any imagination provoked, and subsequently defeated by the many colors, textures and irregularities of the land. I could have been in a whole other galaxy for all I cared — this landscape was making my Yamaha look good.

Cappadocia are o gramada de locuri ascunse. Cum ar fi o poienita de nisip in mijlocul unui palc de seminee de lava impietrita.

Cappadocia doesn’t overbill the 'you’ll love to ride it' angle, either – there's plenty to knock things off any offroad to do list. Like deep sand in a forest of fairy chimneys.  

Apusul era aproape, iar eu ma simteam din ce in ce mai bine pe lava. In urmatorul sit mai interesant a trebuit sa trec cu vederea aspectele comerciale, dar odata ce am intrat mai adanc in peisaj, nisipul si piatra m-au facut sa ma simt de parca Cyril Despres ar fi aparut de dupa un copac si mi-ar fi propus sa fiu in pielea lui pentru o zi. 

Soon sunset was getting ready to happen and tuff and I were getting serious. I had to get over the touristy layout of the next site, but once I did, the cameo that rock and sand made in a day filled with tarmac and resorts was like having Cyril Despres step out of your closet and asking if you want to borrow his life for a day. I was chuffed.

Trogloditii au sapat biserici si case in roca vulcanica, construind adevarate orase subterane. Am asteptat sa se lase noaptea, incercand sa ne imaginam cum se traia odinioara aici, ascultand randunelele incheindu-si o alta zi in vazduh. In curand cerul isi stralucea autoritar stelele asupra bolovanilor netezi, asupra vegetatiei colturoase, peste semineele amutite.

Troglodytes have carved churches and homes in the soft tuff, and even built underground cities. We waited for the sun to set, while trying to imagine what it must have been like to squat in this unworldly place, and listening to sparrows ending another day in the sky. Soon the authority of the starlit sky over everything below it could no longer be questioned. The earthy boulders, the sand-hugging vegetation, the hoodoos, all frozen in silence. 

  In noaptea aceea am dormit in casa de oaspeti a lui Ibrahim. Asa s-a intamplat, eu sa parchez in fata casei lui si Ana sa mentioneze ca gasea Cappadocia cam schimbata. Discutia asta cerea mai mult timp. Ibrahim s-a nascut si traia alaturi de mama sa in acea casa, sapata in carnea de lava chiar de bunicul lui. Rasfoind in cartea in care sunt publicate pozele de mai jos, gazda noastra ne-a povestit cum familii ca a sa se lupta sa tina pasul cu boomul din turism. Cum ce a ramas din generatiile ajunse la senectute sunt prizonieri in propriile case pierdute in noul fief al statiunilor de lux si al coruptiei. Am varsat o lacrima pentru toti acei oameni pe care ii vanasem in van toata ziua, pentru tarancile care nu mai gatesc pe platforme imbracate in chilimuri, pentru taranii pe magarus pe care Ana si-i amintea ca prin vis. Pentru proprii nostri bunici, ale caror opinci si strung de lemn au ars demult, odata cu etapele eludate in procesul de modernizare a Romaniei. 

That evening we stayed in Ibrahim's guest house. We did not plan to, but it turned out he had been born in that very house, carved in the age old tuff by his grandfather. His mother still lived there as well. Ana mentioned how Cappadocia had changed and that kickstarted a conversation that required more time. Zapping through one of his books, Ibrahim told us his own story of how to cope with the boom of tourism. Of how what is left of older generations has become home prisoner in a land conquered by 5 star resorts and a bit of corruption. We shed a tear for those people we had searched in vain for all day long, for those white-scarfed ladies who used to cook lunches on their kilim-covered platforms, for those donkey riders Ana could vaguely remember. For our own grandfathers, whose pigskin shoes and wooden tools have long burnt into the pits of modern Romania. The photos below are from a government sponsored album and some are more than 30 years old.

Curtea lui Ibrahim e decorata cu obiecte 'de familie': un pieptene pentru razboiul de tesut, o roata pentru tors lana, o sa. Candva obiecte din cotidian, acum decoratie romantica.

A few old bits hanged on the walls of the inner yard: a comb for weaving kilims (traditional Anatolian wool carpets), a spinning wheel, a saddle. Once useful tools, now charming decoration. 

Doar printr-o la fel de romantica figura de stil, Göreme mai poate fi numit 'sat'. Are restaurante stilate, cafenele tematice, un panou digital pentru informare turistica, chiar si o gara rutiera, iar strazile pavate 'modern' gem de vehicule de toate tipurile pentru inchiriat. 

Göreme itself hardly resembles a village anymore. There are fancy establishments and cafes everywhere, an information touchscreen and even a bus stop, and streets are lined with vehicles of all description available for rent. 

Ne aflam in patria uneia dintre cele mai celebrate gastronomii din lume, dar ne 'alimentam' numai cu telemea, masline si rosii. Toate delicioase, dar din supermarket. Restaurantele de pe aici nu mai sunt pentru buzunarul de overlander, si mancarea traditionala e cvasi-imposibil de gasit. Am mancat mantı (versiunea turceasca de ravioli), künefe (cataif umplut cu branza si copt in sirop) si supa de linte. Toate nu atat de bune pe cat le stiam a fi. Dar cu toate mofturile si dezamagirea culturala, locul asta este aparte.

Ethosul comercial care a devorat atatea locuri extraordinare din lume nu e atat de prezent, aparent nici in cererea din turism, nici in politica administratiei locale. Poate ca optimismul asta e nefondat, pentru ca noi am fost acolo, e drept, intr-o perioada foarte calda, cand sunt putini turisti. Daca dezvoltatorii raman in limita asezarilor existente si a bun-simtului, legenda va trebui adaptata, dar va continua sa existe. Cu ireala sa frumusete, Cappadocia este in fapt o poveste despre dragostea de libertate, de a crea, de 'a fi'. Si asta e indeajuns pentru noi.

Despite being on the territory of one of the world's best cuisine, we were fueled by nothing but white cheese, olives and tomatoes, all good, but all bought from the supermarket. The restaurants are no longer for budget travelers, and traditional food is virtually nonexistent. We did find mantı (turkish hand-rolled ravioli), künefe (a honey drenched pastry with a cheese filling) and lentil soup. They tasted nothing like they're supposed to. But gastronomical and cultural disappointments aside, this place is still undeniably alluring. 

One pleasure still afforded by Cappadocia — whether because of public demand or a sensible development policy — is a relative lack of the commercial ethos that consumed so many other places. Of course, as we visited during a heatwave when few people were around, our optimism could be unfounded. If developers stay within the confines of settlements and common sense, the legend will have to adapt, but it will be allowed to go on. With its impossibly beautiful landscape and its constantly changing sameness, Cappadocia is only advertising the love for freedom, to create, and to be, and that in itself is enough for us.




[into-the-world-blog]

Legendara ruta Cape - Cairo/ Cape To Cairo. Done.

Trebuie sa spunem asta de la inceput: am mers repede. Ne-a fost greu uneori sa tinem pasul, emotional si cultural vorbind, atunci cand tara in care ne aflam era alta uneori la saptamana. Ruta Est se spune ca e cea 'usoara'. Partial pentru ca o poti faci cu o masina de strada automata fara probleme. Este asfaltata in intregime, cu exceptia portiunii dintre Moyale si Marsabit, care a 'terminat' multe suspensii. Noua nu ne-a dat de furca in mod deosebit, si banuim ca ruta de-a lungului lacului Turkana este mai dificila si mai aventuroasa. Am evadat de cateva ori din jungla de asfalt, caci offroadul face bine la motocicleta, iar orizontul deschis la suflet. Ruta de Est este si Ruta Mai Scumpa. Nu mai sunt vizele 'nesimtite' din vest si centru, dar nu mai sunt nici mamaiele cu orez si fasole peste tot, ca sa faci un dus intr-un camping costa cat nu face si sunt, desigur, mai multe tentatii. Putini dintre noi cei care calatorim isi permit sa fie nomazi cu norma intreaga, si sa dea si 500 de dolari ca sa vada ultimele gorile din lume. Uneori e ca si cum ai fi saraca fetita bogata. Si e frustrant. Noroc ca dai de oamenii care sunt mai blanzi, mai calmi decat in vest. Zambetele si ospitalitatea ne-au intampinat pretutindeni, si a fost foarte usor sa campam. In afara de faptul ca ne simtim cumva multumiti ca am izbandit pe drumul asta, singurul nostru regret notabil este ca a durat cam putin. Unele dintre momentele speciale pe acest segment de calatorie au fost:

Ospitalitatea nemaipomenita a comunitatii moto din Africa de Sud si familia Jones din Johannesburg 

We need to admit this upfront: It's been a fast one. It's been hard to wrap our heads around it, with countries changing sometimes on a weekly basis. The East route is arguably considered The Easy One. Partly because you can basically drive a fully automatic city car all the way. It's tarred, except for the Moyale-Marsabit stretch, hailed as the suspension-killer of Africa. Frankly, the dreaded stretch was a bore. The Turkana route sounds far more adventurous and rewarding. We eluded a few times the asphalt curse, to pamper our Yamaha in some dirt and our souls in open horizons. The East Route is also The Expensive Route. No more pricey visas, but less rice'n beans mamas, more 'budget' campsites, more temptations (safaris etc). Few of us out here manage to do the road and trek $500/hour gorillas while at it. Sometimes it’s like spying from the street through the windows of a posh mansion where $25 per bottle bergamot-scented sea salt is a staple. A bit frustrating. Until you meet the people. East Africans are more mellow. Smiles flow, bush camping is a treat and hospitality paramount. Besides a sense of accomplishment, we note our only regret that we didn't linger. The highlights of this segment of ITW have been: 

The uber hospitable motorcycling community of South Africa & the Jones family from the vibrant Johannesburg

Muntii din Lesotho si Ethiopia

Exploring Lesotho and Ethiopian highlands

Sa vedem Delta Okavango de sus. Ne-a facut sa ne gandim serios sa ne intoarcem la scoala si sa devenim ce ne doream cand eram mici, adica naturalisti.

Flying over the Okavango Delta in flood. Made us want to go back to school and fulfill childhood fantasies of becoming naturalists. 

Sa ne 'intoarcem acasa' la Rapid 14 in Zambia

Coming 'home' @ Zambia's Rapid 14

Unde ne-am dori sa revenim: Mozambique. Cei mai prietenosi si blanzi oameni, o atmosfera relaxata afro-latina si mult de explorat in nordul inca salbatic.

Destination we’d most like to return to: Mozambique. The friendliest people, a chilled afro-latino vibe and lots of wilderness to get lost into across the little visited northern provinces.

Zanzibar. Un loc cu adevarat special. In ciuda greselilor facute de om, arhipelagul isi pastreaza farmecul. Frumusete naturala, oameni calzi, o liniste de capat de lume si (dupa parerea noastra) destinatia culinara nr. 1 din Africa.

Zanzibar. Truly a thing of beauty. In spite of all human mischiefs, the archipelago retains its allure. Natural beauty, amazing people, edge-of-the-world tranquility and (in our book) the best foodie destination across the continent.

Sudan e grozav! Pur si simplu inimile noastre inteleg desertul si oamenii desertului.

Sudan, tamam! Desert and desert people simply speak to our hearts. 

Cel mai surprinzator oras: Cairo. Pentru ca e cosmopolit, un Paris arab.

The most surprising city: Cairo. Because of its diversity and superb architecture, reminiscent of Paris.

Cea mai buna mancare: caracatita in Zanzibar; cea mai buna bautura: fresh de guava si lime in Sudan; cel mai bun desert: jackfruit in Zanzibar.

Best food: Zanzibari octopus; best drink: guava & lime in Sudan; best pudding: Zanzibari jackfruit.

Si statisticile pentru acest segment:

Calatoria 

• Tari traversate: 9 (South Africa, Lesotho, Botswana, Zambia, Mozambique, Tanzania, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt)     

• Zile petrecute in calatorie: 136 (12.03.2012 - 25.07.2012)  

• Nopti dormite in cort: 57 (minus 1 pe ferry, 78 in paturi - din care 59 couchsurfing in South Africa)  

• Distanta parcursa cu motocicleta: 21,200 km  

• Distanta parcursa impreuna cu alti overlanderi: 0 km (desi am intalnit destui in Nairobi)

• Combustibil folosit: 1060 l 

Recorduri 

• Cea mai ridicata temperatura ziua: +54C (129.2F) (Nubian desert, Sudan)

• Cea mai scazuta temperatura ziua : +7C (Ethiopian Highlands)

• Numar maxim de km parcursi intr-o zi: 730 (Abu Hamad - Dongola, Sudan)

• Numar maxim de ore de condus intr-o zi: 14 (Addis Ababa - Lalibela, Ethiopia)

• Altitudine maxima atinsa pe motocicleta: 3,251m / 10,666ft (Tlaeeng Pass, Lesotho)

Intretinere

• Ulei de motor folosit: 9 l

• Schimburi fitru ulei: 3

• Filtru de aer curatat: 5x

• Schimburi cauciuc fata: 1 (Heidenau K60 Scout, cumparat in Windhoek, totalizand 25,000 km)

• Schimburi cauciuc spate: 2 (1 Heidenau K60 Scout din Windhoek pana in Durban, s-a dovedit defect, inlocuit; 1 Michelin Anakee 2 din Durban in Awasa, Ethiopia, unde am trecut pe un second hand K60, primit moca de la Chris)

• Pene de cauciuc: 2 (ambele in Nairobi)

• Schimburi de placute frana fata: 2 (seturi noi in JoBurg+discuri noi, datorita Linex Yamaha)

• Schimburi de placute frana spate: 2

• Schimburi de discuri frana spate: 0

• Schimburi pinion: 2

• Schimburi lant: 2 (1 de la Cape la Cairo, unde am luat unul nou de la dealerul Yamaha)

• Spalat echipament moto: 5x

• Spalat motocicleta: 2x

• Spalat cort: 1x

• Spalat saltele: 1x

• Tuns: 3x

Probleme

• Cazaturi offroad: 7 

• Cazaturi pe asfalt: 0

• Accidente usoare: 0 

• Opriri de catre echipaje de politie: 1 (excluzand ca de obicei bariele Armatei). In Cairo am fost pentru prima data controlati in bagaje. Cutiile au fost varsate in strada, foliile de medicamente rupte si piesele de schimb si alte maruntisuri luate la mana, pentru ca politia sa fie sigura ca suspicios de prafuitii teroristi pe motocicleta nu au cu ce sa atenteze la linistea natiunii.

• Amenzi radar: 0

• Probleme tehnice majore: 0 

• Probleme tehnice minore: 2 (schimbator de viteza inlocuit cu unul de scuter @ Mozambique; toba crapata @ Egipt)

• Echipament degradat: 9 (lentila + laptop - Tanzania; GPS - Sudan; geanta de rezervor desirata - Africa de Sud; sac impermeabil dovedit defect la prima ploaie - Tanzania; diverse articlor de imbracaminte desirate 'fatal')

• Probleme de sanatate: 2 (toxinfectie alimentara + piscaturi de scorpion si musca tse tse - Ana @ Ethiopia, respectiv Mozambique)

• Obiecte furate: 0

• Obiecte pierdute: 2 (o manusa - Lesotho; ochelari de soare - Egypt) 

Bani & Vize 

• Cea mai scumpa benzina: 52 Meticais/l (1,5 Euro/l) - Mozambique

• Cea mai ieftina benzina: 1,8 pound egiptean/l (0,24 Euro/l) - Egipt

• SIM-uri locale cumparate: 2 (Africa de Sud, Egipt)

• Tari in care functioneaza Vodafone roaming: 8 (Africa de Sud, Botswana, Zambia, Tanzania, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egipt)

• Tari pentru care cetatenii romani nu au nevoie de viza: 3 (Botswana, Zambia, Tanzania)

____________________________________________________________

To conclude, here are the statistics for this leg:

        Journey 

• Countries visited: 9 (South Africa, Lesotho, Botswana, Zambia, Mozambique, Tanzania, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt)     

• Number of days spent on the road: 136 (12.03.2012 - 25.07.2012)  

• Nights in the tent: 57 (minus 1 on ferry, 78 in real beds - of which 59 couchsurfing in South Africa) 

• Distance covered by bike: 21,200 km 

• Distance covered together with other overlanders: 0 km (encountered plenty of them in Nairobi)

• Fuel burned: 1060 l

Records

• Highest daytime temperature: +54C (129.2F) (Nubian desert, Sudan)

• Lowest daytime temperature : +7C (Ethiopian Highlands)

• Record continuous riding (km): 730 (Abu Hamad - Dongola, Sudan)

• Record continuous riding (hours): 14 (Addis Ababa - Lalibela, Ethiopia)

• Highest altitude reached by bike: 3,251m / 10,666ft (Tlaeeng Pass, Lesotho)

Maintanance

• Engine oil used: 9 l

• Engine oil filters used: 3

• Air filters cleaned: 5 times

• Front tires used: 1 (Heidenau K60 Scout, bought in Windhoek, totaling an astonishing 25,000 km)

• Rear tires used: 2 (1 Heidenau K60 Scout from Windhoek to Durban, proved faulty, replaced; 1 Michelin Anakee 2 from Durban to Awasa, Ethiopia, where I switched to a second hand K60, a give-away from JJ's Chris)

• Punctured tires: 2 (both in Nairobi)

• Front brake pad sets used: 2 (new sets from JoBurg with the new discs, thanks to Linex Yamaha)

• Rear brake pad sets used: 2

• Rear brake disks used: 0

• Sprocket sets used: 2

• Chains used: 2 (1 from Cape to Cairo, where we bought a new one from the Yamaha dealer)

• Biking gear washed (times): 5

• Bike washed (times): 2

• Tent washed (times): 1

• Mattresses washed (times): 1

• Haircuts: 3

Problems

• Offroad crashes: 7

• Onroad crashes: 0

• Crashes with other vehicles: 0 

• Stops by the police: 1 (excluding as usual military posts). In Cairo it was the first time our panniers got searched, medicine packaging broken and mechanical bits spread in the street, making sure that the suspiciously shabby looking motorbike terrorists would not harm the egyptian people.  

• Fines for speeding: 0

• Breakdowns: 0 

• Minor technical issues: 2 (gear lever replaced with moped bit - Mozambique; exhaust pipe cracked - Egypt)

• Damaged gear: 9 (broken prime lens - Tanzania; broken laptop - Tanzania; broken GPS - Sudan; tankbag torn - R.S.A.; duffel bag proven faulty - Tanzania; several clothing items disintegrated)

• Health issues: 2 (food poisoning - Ana @ Ethiopia; scorpion & Tse Tse sting - Ana @ Mozambique)

• Stolen items: 0 

• Lost items: 2 (glove - Lesotho; sunglasses - Egypt) 

Money & Visa 

• Most expensive fuel: 52 Meticais/l (1,5 Euro/l) - Mozambique

• Cheapest fuel: 1,8 Egyptian pound/liter (0,24 Euro/l) - Egypt

• Local SIM cards bought: 2 (RSA, Egypt)

• Countries with Vodafone roaming available: 8 (South Africa, Botswana, Zambia, Tanzania, Kenya, Ethiopia, Sudan, Egypt)

• Countries not requiring visa for Romanian citizens: 3 (Botswana, Zambia, Tanzania)

Oricum, in timp ce punem pe hartie toate astea, planuim deja urmatoarea miscare. Mi-am cumparat cu 1 euro ( 5 lire egiptene) casti noi pentru shuffle, si ascult Staff Benda Bilili. Cantecele sunt triste si vesele deopotriva - congolezii au talentul de a gasi ironia, si chiar umorul, in situatii fara de speranta, si fac muzica din asta. Coco imi sopteste in ureche despre sora lui ramasa in cealalta Congo, si fara sa vreau zambesc, pentru ca acum am macar o vaga idee despre ce e vorba in cantecul lui. Imi amintesc cat de frusta era viata noastra in jungla din inima Africii. Roger imi intrerupe sirul gandurilor cu inconfundabila sa 'chitara', fabricata dintr-o conserva de lapte praf. Ritmul e irezistibil. Ochii mi se umezesc, si simt ca inimile noastre au ramas cumva in aceasta alta Africa, cea corupta, cea dezordonata, cea greu de inteles si de traversat. Cea usor de iubit.

In any case, we’re well into planning our next move as I write this. I bought new earphones for my shuffle with 1 euro ( 5 egyptian pounds) and I'm listening to Staff Benda Bilili. The songs are both sad and joyful — the Congolese always seem to find the irony, and even the humor in often hopeless situations, and make music about them. As Coco's unmistakable voice sings about his sister, I smile and I nod, now I am able to understand a little of what he's talking about. I remember how raw our life in the open bush of central Africa has been. Roger's impossibly delicate string attached to a milk tin interrupts my recollection. My limbs struggle to resist the beat. As my eyes wet, I somehow feel our hearts remained with this other Africa, the corrupt, the messy, the difficult to understand and to cross. The easy to love. 

[into-the-world-blog]

Cele o mie si unul de pacate egiptene/ The Thousand And One Egyptian Sins

Faptul ca Siria e o baie de sange ne-a anulat planurile de a traversa Orientul Mijlociu catre Asia. Singura iesire din Africa - un continent la care ne gandim foarte serios ca la un potential camin - este fie prin vest (Libia, Tunisia, apoi feribot Grimaldi pana in Sicilia), sau prin nord-est, pe un vas de cargo, pana in Turcia. In Nairobi am luat in considerare varianta de a vinde Yamaha (intuind ca traversarea Egiptului ar putea fi aberant de costisitoare), si pe cea de a face ca multi altii - traversat continentul inapoi in Africa de Sud, apoi expediat de acolo motocicleta catre alt continent. Siguri pe noi ca vom gasi ac de cojocul mafiei egiptene, am ajuns pana aici, ca sa ne convingem ca asta nu e posibil. Pe 4 iulie vizele pentru Libia au fost din nou suspendate, pe termen nedeterminat. Petrecem o zi la cozi la ambasada libiana, incercand sa aflam ce sanse avem sa obtinem totusi viza. Aflam ca nici una. Tot timpul asta am stiut unde si cand trebuie sa mergem pentru a lua singura nava care leaga in acest moment Europa de Africa de Est. Nava asta asta pleaca marti seara. Nu are rost sa ne amagim, trebuie sa o luam. Urmeaza partea a doua a dramei din Aswan.

Cortina se ridica pe o scena in care toate lucrurile noatre sunt imprastiate pe trotuarul din centrul orasului Cairo. Este marti, nici 6 dimineata, si politia scotoceste in coburile noastre dupa ceva necuser. Suntem pe picior de plecare catre Port Said, unde avem intalnire cu agentul companiei de transport, AK Naggar Shipping. Fondat numai datorita constructiei Canalului Suez, orasul Port Said nu prea pare a fi cel mai prosper din Egipt, dupa cum spune Indicele de Dezvoltare Umana. 

Syria becoming a bloodbath has rendered our plans to continue across the Middle East, towards Asia, obsolete. The only way out of Africa - a continent we are seriously thinking to adopt as home one day - is either west (Libya, Tunisia, then cheap Grimaldi ferry to Sicily) or north-east by ro-ro ship to Turkey. In Nairobi we pondered selling the bike (knowing it could become a financial disaster to overland Egypt), or doing like many do - drive back to South Africa, and ship from there to another continent. Confident that we can crack the egyptian mafia, we come all the way up, to concede that we can't. On the 4th of july the libyan authorities have again suspended all visa services. We spent a day at the embassy in Cairo discussing our chance to obtain this visa before our carnet for Egypt would expire. Turns out there isn't any. The info for the only boat taking travelers and their vehicles across the Mediterranean has been all this time in our weathered Moleskine. This boat leaves on Tuesday evening. So we decide to take it. Follows part two of what we had endured in Aswan. 

The curtain rises to a scene of our bare minimum spread on the sidewalk in downtown Cairo. It's Tuesday, not even 6 a.m., and police is frantically searching our panniers for something unruly. We are about to leave for Port Said, where we have an appointment in the office of AK Naggar Shipping. Established only due to the Suez Canal, Port Said doesn't look like the most prosperous egyptian city, as the Human Development Index suggests. 

sursa/source

Este Ramadan, deci multe companii lucreaza doar cateva ore pe zi. Il asteptam in fata blocului pe Nabil, care este seful biroului. Intarzie o ora si jumatate, dar nu se sfieste sa ne admonesteze ca punem intrebari (oare altii platesc fara sa comenteze?). A, si barca soseste abia la noapte, apoi va astepta in port pana maine cand va fi descarcata de marfa.

Ni se cere sa platim:

$200 pentru motocicleta ($500/masina)

$300 per pasager

$125 comision de rezervare + 'foaie de transport' pentru Canal Shipping, comisionarul vamal 

$205 vama (1250 EGP)

Adica $1130 pentru noi doi si Yamaha. Tine cont de faptul ca pentru 1 moto + 1 persoana pe aceeasi barca, in sens invers, din Turcia in Egipt, costurile sunt $278, fata de $830. Preturile pentru vapor au crescut cu 50% din aprilie, iar comisioanele vamale aproape s-au dublat. Nabil ne spune cu tupeu ca avem 'ghinion' ca e Ramadan, pentru ca acum totul e mai scump. O vreme incearca sa ne abureasca sa platim 1500 EGP pentru vama care deja e peste cei 750 EGP de care stiam de la altii. Intrebam de ce, cand mai intai ni s-au cerut 1250 EGP? Ni se spune sa platim biletele si sa mergem sa intrebam ce avem de intrebat in biroul comisionarului vamal, care e o strada mai jos. Ai crede ca pentru o mie de parai esti invitat sa astepti pe canapea cu o revista in mana. Dar pentru ca suntem curiosi, vom suferi.

In biroul lui Sayed numarul lui Nabil e pe tasta 2 a telefonului. Aici ziua de lucru e si misto: barfe cu tovarasii, mai o stire sportiva de pe net, dar in principal doar joaca cu un banut in scrumiera in timp  ce te holbezi la ce se intampla pe strada. Dupa ce am muncit ani de zile ca sa ajungem in Africa, scena asta nu ne poate lasa indiferenti. Assam e iute la manie si vorbeste o engleza de clasa a sasea, Mohammed nu vorbeste deloc. Acesti doi angajati ai lui Sayed trebuie sa faca vamuirea efectiva. Intrebam cat avem de plata. Egiptenii sunt consternati. Suntem trimisi cu cei doi natafleti sa 'intrebam in port'. Facem drumul de pomana: in port nu suntem lasati nici macar sa asteptam in fata portii, in vreme ce cersetori de toate spetele intra si ies fara probleme. Cei doi se duc sa 'intrebe' in numele nostru. Bineinteles ca se intorc cu vestea ca avem de platit 1300 EGP. Raspundem ca nu suntem dispusi sa platim peste cei 505 EGP pe care i-am dat in Aswan. In fond e aceeasi 'marfa', aceeasi tara. Assam se enerveaza, si pleaca. Inapoi in biroul lui Sayed, ne dam seama ca ne pierdem timpul. Orele trec, intrebarile raman fara raspuns, gluma se ingroasa. Cica cei din Aswan au calculat gresit. Cica, se indura ei sa ne informeze, vama e tot 750 EGP, 50 EGP e taxa de depozit (care depozit?), iar restul 'comision'. Ne uitam unul la altul. Nu ne incumetam sa traversam Siria, si nu avem bani sa fim noi aia care sa faca haos si sa dea in gat mafia din acest port. Expedierea pe mare sau avion iese din calcul. Trebuie sa cadem de acord, vom plati. Vom lua barca asta nenorocita. Urmeaza inca un drum de pomana pana la politia rutiera, ca sa fiu 'inspectat' personal de ofiterul care va emite un atestat ca nu am fost implicat intr-un accident prin Egipt. Desigur ca nu sunt lasat sa intru, si astept afara, in timp ce sunt 'inspectat' prin ziduri, iar cei doi prostanaci xeroxeaza carnetele de conducere egiptean si romanesc. Nu vine nimeni sa se uite la mine sau la motocicleta, nimeni nu cere actul care chiar contine datele vehiculului. Uite ce parametri sunt trecuti in Carnetul emis in Egipt:

It's Ramadan, most offices work only a few hours a day. We set to wait for Nabil, who heads the booking agency handling the infamous boat. He shows up an hour and a half late, but doesn't shy away from scolding us for asking questions (do other people just pay?). Oh, the boat is yet to arrive tonight, then it'll wait in the port until tomorrow to be unloaded. 

We are asked to pay:

$200 per motorbike ($500/car)

$300 per passenger

$125 booking fee + 'shipping order' for Canal Shipping where the customs clearance is done 

$205 customs clearance (1250 EGP)

That makes $1130 for us and the bike. Mind you, the cost for 1 bike + 1 person coming from Turkey (on the very same boat), all included, is $278, as opposed to $830. Prices for the boat are up 50% since April, customs clearance has almost doubled. Nabil has the audacity to say that we are 'unlucky' for showing up during Ramadan, when everything is more expensive. For a while he tries to intimidate us into paying 1500 EGP for customs clearance. We ask why, when he initially said 1250, already more than the 750 EGP recently paid by others? We are told to pay our tickets and go clear customs in the office of Canal Shipping, which is a block away. You might think that for over a grand we would be politely invited to wait on a couch. Well, because we ask questions, we shall suffer. 

In Sayed Saleh's office, Nabil is on the speed dial. Here a working day is even more fun: chatting with friends, checking sports news online, and mostly playing with a coin in your empty ashtray while staring spaced-out at the streetscape. After working for years to come to Africa, this doesn't leave us unimpressed. Assam has a short temper and poor english, Mohammed doesn't speak any. These employees of Sayed are supposed to do the actual customs clearing work. We ask how much we need to pay and why. Everybody is appalled of our 'curiosity'. We are sent with the two stooges to 'ask in the port'. A useless trip: in the port we aren't even allowed to wait by the gate as random bums walk freely in and out. The two stooges go someplace to 'ask for us'. Of course they return with the news that we should pay 1300 EGP. We reply that we are prepared to pay not more than what we did in Aswan for the same bogus customs clearance, so 505 EGP. The same 'merchandise', the same country, right? Assam, the rudest and most aggressive of the lot, starts shouting that they made a mistake in Aswan and this is the CORRECT amount, and walks away. Back in Canal Shipping office, back to square one. Hours pass, we realize we cannot break the chain of middle men. Finally we figure that customs clearance is still 750 EGP (whatever that means and whoever gets bribed), 50 is for storing the vehicle in the port (why should we do that when the boat is not even accessible until tomorrow?), the rest is 'commission'. We look at each other. We admit we don't have the balls to attempt Syria. And we don't' have enough money to make a point and ship ourselves out of here. For us it's too late, we cannot go back. So we agree to bloody pay. We take another useless trip to traffic police, where supposedly the officers must 'see' me to issue a certificate that I haven't been involved in any accident. Of course, I am told to wait outside while the two stupid dogs xerox my egyptian and romanian driving licenses. Nobody comes to see me, no one bothers to inspect the bike, or ask for documents containing any actual data about the vehicle being 'cleared'. Check out what is written on the egyptian carnet, which goes in my file, along the above mentioned photocopies and a form. 

Toata gluma asta se desfasoara ca si cum Assam si Mohammed ar face totul pentru prima data in viata. Dupa cateva ore de 'lucru', Mohammed intreaba candid ce fel de vehicul am, si care este destinatia vaporului pe care vrem sa ne suim. Inapoi in primul birou, ne golim buzunarele in mainile lui Nabil care tremura de lacomie. Vocea i se subtiaza, ochii ii sclipesc, spatele i se incovoaie sub apasarea celor o mie si unul de pacate inscrise in codul lui genetic. S-a sfarsit, si asta e singura 'dovada': 

This mess plays out as if Assam and Mohammed are doing it for the first time. A few hours into the process, Mohammed asks candidly if we have a car or a motorbike and where is our boat supposed to go. Back at the booking agency, we empty our wallet into Nabil's hands that start to shake with gluttony. His voice changes, his eyes glisten, his back arches under the weight of a thousand and one egyptian sins written in his DNA. It's over, and this is the only evidence we will ever have:

Port Said e un oras de agenti, intermediari, companii de transport si comisionari vamali. De ce oare venim toti la acelasi agent ca oile? Acesti oameni vor sarbatori deseara pe banii nostri. Nu mai avem suficienta energie ca sa ne bucuram de ultimul iftar in Africa. Cumparam rosii, branza, paine si smochine. Piata e faina, oamenii placuti, si la noapte tarabele or sa geama de creveti si calamar. Dar suntem terminati. In camera noastra din Hotel de la Poste, ne facem covrig, si cadem prada somnului. 

A doua zi dimineata mergem la Sayed, unde asteptam interminabile ore, pana cand Assam isi aminteste ca trebuie sa ducem Yamaha in port si sa alergam dupa stampile la dosar. Tevatura se incheie cu depozitarea motorului intr-un hangar pana 'mai incolo'. Barca ne asteapta, e gata, si cica pleaca deseara la 6. Ana trage o fuga pana in piata si revine tot cu rosii, branza, paine. Si smochine. Si curmale uscate. Mai pastram o bancnota de 50 EGP, sa fie. Ne intoarcem la Nabil, si stam, pana pierdem sirul orelor. Toata lumea discuta aprins, impartim canapeaua cu un sofer turc, care se intoarce spre noi si ingana 'problem'. 'Ce problema?' il intreb eu. Aflam ca nu are CpD. Ii explicam cum am obtinut noi unul. Toata lumea din birou e perplexa, ca si cum au auzit pentru prima oara de asa ceva. Ii dam angajatului lui Nabil contactele necesare, dar nu mai apucam sa aflam deznodamantul povestii, pentru ca un alt angajat ne zoreste catre biroul unde ne vor fi stampilate pasapoartele. Acolo lumea e ocupata cu impartitul pachetelor de Ramadan. In fine, primim stampila, apoi sprintam la masina tipului care ne duce in fata hangarului unde am lasat mai devreme motocicleta. Mi se cer 150 EGP taxa de magazinaj. Ma ia rasul: le arat ca nu mai am decat 50, nici nu stiu de ce sunt asa sincer. Pun gentile la loc pe motor si mergem in fata navei ancorate in port, dar nu putem inca urca, desi e trecut de 6. Asteptam sa vina nustiucine, care o sa verifice ca totul e in regula si ca dubiosul vehicul va parasi tara. Intre timp Sayed, Assam si Mohammed se dau in stamba in fata intregului port, nu avem idee care e motivul galcevii. Sa intram si sa iesim cu motocicleta din Egipt ne-a costat 1750 de dolari SUA, adica de trei ori mai mult decat 22 e tari in Africa la un loc, incluzand si feribotul din Europa in Maroc. Nu vom mai face asta niciodata.

Port Said is a city of booking agents, shipping companies and custom people. Why have we all come to the same booking agent, blatantly in cohorts with the customs? These shady characters will party hard with our money. We don't have any energy left to enjoy our last Iftar in Africa. We buy tomatoes, cheese, bread and figs. The market is great, the people seem nice, and in the night everybody will feast on shrimp and squid. But we are spent. We curl into our Hotel de la Poste lair, and sleep. 

The next morning we drive to Sayed, where we wait for a couple of hours until Assam remembers we must take the bike to the port and start collecting stamps in my file. More mambo jumbo ends in me having to leave the bike in storage for a few hours. The boat awaits us, departure is scheduled for 6 p.m. At 4 p.m. we are still in Nabil's, numb of waiting, each with our own departure thoughs to digest. Ana walks to the market to spend our last pounds on more tomatoes, cheese and bread. And figs. And dried dates. We save a bill of 50, what if they will ask for a storage fee for the bike? we say. A turkish driver shares our waiting couch and people are discussing furiously something. The driver turns to us: 'problem', he says. 'What problem?' I ask. It turns out he doesn't have a CpD. We tell him how we got one from the Saudi club in Aswan. Nabil and his employees seem bewildered by this information. We give them the contacts of the club and the fixers, they discuss, but we don't know the outcome, because suddenly a guy from the office informs us we must literally run to immigration to get our passports stamped. There everybody is busy distributing Ramadan packages. We get the stamps, then we run some more to the guy's car, and drive back to where our bike is stored. They ask 150 EGP for storage. I laugh and I tell them I have only 50 left. I can't explain my honesty. I mount back the luggage and I drive it to the boat, but we must wait for someone who will inspect our bike and the file. In the meantime Sayed, Assam and Mohammed start and end a few fights, and hours pass. Finally the inspector arrives to make sure we are taking our dubious vehicle out of his bureaucratic life, and we cannot wait to do so. In the end, crossing Egypt with this vehicle costed an astonishing 1750 US dollars, 3 times more than 22 other African countries combined, including the ferry from Europe to Morocco! Egypt overland, never again. 

Barca poarta insemnele Scanlines, are pavilion moldovenesc si echipaj jumatate rus, jumatate ucrainean. Bucatarul este turc, ca si cei cativa soferi de TIR care calatoresc impreuna cu noi catre Mersin. La 9 seara ne miscam, Cina a fost tipic turceasca, deloc rea.

On the boat bearing the logo of Scanlines under Moldavian pavilion, it's just us, three turkish drivers with their trucks, the russian and ukrainian crew and a turkish chef. After 9 p.m., we budge. The dinner is typically turkish, not bad.

Cabina e luna, dar e cald ca intr-o sauna. 

The cabin is spotless, but scalding hot.

Ne perpelim toata noaptea, iar dimineata descoperim ca nava e ancorata in port, in acelasi loc in care ne aflam in seara precedenta. Trec orele, trece amiaza, se zvoneste ca asteptam un pasager intarziat. Spre seara docul se umple de TIR-uri, si sala de mese de soferi rusi si turci. Masinile porta placuta de tranzit, pentru care noi ne-am zbatut in zadar.

We struggle all night to sleep, and in the morning we discover that the boat is back in the port, in the same place we were the night before. Lunch passes, hours pass, we hear a rumor that we are waiting for a passenger. Late afternoon trucks start arriving: the boat fills up with russian and turkish truck drivers and their vehicles bearing the 'transit' plate we fought in vain for. 

Este joi, si soarele apune peste Africa, in timp ce nava paraseste, in sfarsit, gura canalului Suez. Pentru noi Africa s-a terminat acum doua tari, dar tot avem inima grea. Ne vom intoarce!

It's Thursday and sun is setting over Africa as the boat finally exits the Suez Channel. For us, Africa ended two countries ago, but we are still heartbroken. We'll come back!

Au urmat zile de transpiratie abundenta si dus dupa dus, in asteptarea urmatoarei mese, in timp ce Ana descoperea ca nu a uitat de tot sa vorbeasca turca. 

The next days were a blur of sweating, showering and waiting for the next meal to happen, while Ana discovered that she could still speak rudimentary Turkish. 

Povestea Carolei pe nava e la fix. Din pacate arata si ca biletele nu pot fi cumparate in Alexandria. Care ar fi solutia? Daca ai mai mult timp, poti sa astepti sa se dea drumul la vizele pentru Libia. Poti sa incerci sa intri in Siria. Sau, daca te tine bugetul, poti sa-ti trimiti vehicului cu barca si sa iei avionul. Tu alegi. Ne pare rau pentru egiptenii de treaba pe care i-am cunoscut prin satele de pe valea Nilului, dar tara lor nu e cel mai fericit final la capatul unui tur de-a lungul si de-a latul continentului lor. 

Carola's account of her own trip is spot on. Unfortunately it also says that there is no other agent for this boat. What can you do to avoid this scam? If you have more time, wait for Libya to resume visa services, drive the coastal route (check Temehu.com for news updates), ferry from Tunis to Italy (roughly 150 euro for 2 people + 1 motorbike). Or cross Syria. Or, if you have more money, ship from Port Sudan or Alexandria and fly out. Your choice. We are sorry for the wonderful village people we met in Egypt, but their country is not the best ending to a tour of their great continent.

[into-the-world-blog]

Ramadan in orasul care nu doarme niciodata/ Ramadan In Testosterone City

Cairo 19 - 24/07/2012

In 'Povestea vraciului evreu' din cele 'O mie si una de nopti' (care au fost scrise in Cairo, si nu in Bagdad) apare acest fragment: 'Cel care nu a vazut Cairo, nu a cunoscut lumea: pamantul ei e de aur, Nilul ei minunat; femeile ei sunt ingeri cu ochi ca taciunele; casele ei sunt palate; iar aerul ei e dulce si mai parfumat ca aloea, intru placerea inimii sale. Si cum ar putea fi altminteri, cand Cairo este Muma intregii Lumi?'

Astazi, ca in toate metropolele, poluarea e extrema, si aerul capitalei egiptene nu mai e asa dulce si parfumat, dar palatele si moscheile si-au pastrat gloria medievala. Fertila delta a Nilul inca hraneste intreaga natiune. Femeile insa nu stim cat de frumoase mai sunt: am vazut putine, si majoritatea conservator investmantate. Pentru ca in venele acestui oras care nu doarme niciodata, curge testosteron. Barbatii fac legea, atat in pietele medievale, cat si in cladirile de birouri moderne, in desertul cu piramide, si in strazile nebunesc de aglomerate, unde masini vechi si carute trase de magarusi se lupta pentru fiecare centimetru cu alte milioane de pietoni, si merg mai departe. 

'The Tale of the Jewish Physician' from the 'Thousand and One Arabian Nights' (now believed by scholars to have been written by a Cairene in the late medieval period) contains this text: "He who hath not seen Cairo hath not seen the world: her soil is gold, her Nile is a marvel; her women are like the black-eyed hours of Paradise; her houses are palaces; and her air is soft, more odorous than aloes-wood, rejoicing the heart. And how can Cairo be otherwise when she is the Mother of the World?".

These days, as in most mega cities of the world, pollution is rampant, and that endemic haze is not so soft, but there are still palaces and superb mosques scattered throughout. The Nile still feeds the nation across a lush valley. The women, though, are less conspicuous than the old thousand and one stories would suggest, so we cannot vouch they are still as angelic. This is testosterone city, a sprawling mix of museums and pyramids, skyscrapers and medieval gates, of crowded streets with few precious traffic lights and a million bumpers, where car horns never stop, where old cars, bursting buses, donkey carts and pedestrians intermingle in astonishing patterns, and yet keep moving. 

Cairo este cel mai mare oras din Africa, si din intreaga lume araba. Am avut ocazia sa ajungem in prima zi a Ramadamului, intr-o vineri. Capitala culturala si spirituala a natiunilor arabe sarbatorea cu entuziasm si festinuri publice, mesele si covoarele fiind asternute chiar in strada si in piete. De la 7 seara, la 3 dimineata, am avut prijelul sa cunoastem putin ospitalitatea egipteana.

Cairo is the largest city in Africa, and in the entire Arab world. Symbolically enough, we had arrived here on the first day of Ramadan, a Friday. It was special to see the immense city in festive mood, with all Cairenes celebrating the holy month. Communal tables are laid out in the street from 7 p.m. till 3 a.m. It is a wonderful opportunity to finally experience some egyptian hospitality. 

Ia apus, oamenii incep sa umple strazile si pietele pentru a manca si face cumparaturile festive impreuna

When sun sets, people start flooding the streets and public squares to enjoy the feast and some shopping.  

Apoi am strabatut marile bulevarde. Cladirile cu arhitectura franceza de sec. XIX sau de factura stalinista nu sunt in stare grozava, dar interventiile contemporane au fost tinute departe de tesutul vechi, si asta a pastrat atmosfera care in Bucuresti s-a pierdut in ultimele doua decenii. Este greu sa nu te indragostesti de acest oras, dar e greu si sa te simti in largul tau.

We walked the the grand avenues lined with superb French and stalinist architecture. It is hard not to fall in love with this city. I was also difficult to be at ease there.

Egiptenilor le place sa ureze strainilor 'Bun venit!' (sau "Bine ai venit in Alaska!'). Dar in orasul asta care pare pe pastile, crede-ma, nu esti tocmai 'bine-venit'. Nervii sunt intinsi, totul se face in graba, galceava incepe din nimic. Oricat de politicos ai refuza oferta constanta de a cumpara ceva, la un moment dat tot vei scoate din sarite un egiptean. In istorica piata Tahrir, unde acum un an pornise Primavara Araba, am incercat sa ne imaginam cat de intense au fost evenimentele, dat fiind temperamentul egiptean atat de volatil. Urmele revolutiei persista, si in fiecare vineri sunt organziate demonstratii care o evoca. 

Egyptians love to say 'Welcome!' (or 'Welcome to Alaska!), excited by the sight of strangers. But this is a city on speed, and welcome, my brother, sometimes you're not. Sprits are tense, speeds are high and tempers easily lost. As politely as you may refuse the countless offers for stuff you don't want, you are bound to make a few egyptians mad. In the historic Tahrir Square, we tried to imagine how these temperamental people focused their intensity to start the still bubbling Arab Spring. The revolution is weekly reenacted during friday gatherings, and signs of revolt are visible everywhere.

Am explorat labiritul de pravalii si moschei din marele bazar Khan el-Khalili, care in trecut domina intr-atat comertul mondial, incat Columb a pornit in cautarea unor rute de trasnport alternative, astfel ajungand sa descopere Lumea Noua.

We explored the underbelly of the bazaar of Khan el-Khalili, a market that once gained such a stranglehold over world trade, that Columbus had to seek alternative routes, eventually discovering the new world.

Chinezismele au cucerite deja si acest bastion al comertului medieval

Chinese goods have conquered even this age old market.

Chiar si traditionala supa de linte e ambalata in stil fast-food, in recipiente chinezesti

Even lentil soup is sold in fast-food packaging branded in the far east

E uimitor ce poti gasi in aleile laturalnice

It's astonishing what can be found on the back allies: a diminutive shop with any imaginable trinket for PCs 

Oazele masivului Cairo islamic sunt moscheile si scolile coranice, intre care Al Ahzar este cea mai veche, de aici si din lume, functionand fara intrerupere din 970 e.n. Studenti din toata lumea vin aici.

The oasis of the massive Islamic Cairo are its mosques, like Al Ahzar, world's oldest university, built in AD 970. Students still come here from all Islamic world.

Dar si in madrasele recent construite cu la fel de mult fast

Like they do in the more recent madrases

Cairo fiind arhetipul orasului cosmopolit, in care multele culturi ale lumii se suprapun multelor sale varste, cea mai veche parte a sa este, surprinzator, nu musulmana, ci crestina. Bisericile coptice au fost construite inainte de venirea arabilor, dar ctitorii lor nu au aratat prea multa piosenie fata de relicvele trecutului, si ridicand altarele peste zidurile stravechiului Babilon. 

Apoi sunt Piramidele. Cand istorii Greciei antice scriau despre ele, acestea aveau deja peste 2000 de ani. Cairo le-a absorbit demult in nebuneasca sa expansiune care a inghitit Ghiza, Memphis si Dashur. Dar ca sa le vedem, trebuia sa induram, ca si Mark Twain in 1866, 'chinuri de nedescris din pricina foamei de bacsis care licareste in ochi arabi'. Odata invinse armata de negustori, agresivitatea si cadourile false, ajungeam, cu genunchii tremurand, in fata a cinci milenii de istorie a geniului uman.

Cairo being the archetypal melting pot where the many cultures of the world mix with the many ages of the world, its oldest past is not islamic, but christian. The Coptic churches predate the arrival of arabs, but their founders decided to build them on top of the ancient fortress of Babylon. 

Then there are those pyramids. When the Ancient Greek civilization was at its peak, they were already 2000 years old. The sprawling Cairo has long swallowed them, along with entire Giza. But to see the pyramids, we had to endure our share of 'torture that no pen can describe from the hungry appeals for baksheesh that gleamed from Arab eyes'. Just like Mark Twain, who wrote these line on his 1866 visit. Once past the aggressive touts and fake 'gifts', we could marvel, knees shaking, at five millennia of human genius.

Piramida lui Kheops, cea mai mare dintre piramide, ultimele minuni ale lumii antice, inca in picioare

The pyramid of Kheops, the largest of the last seven wonders of the ancient world still standing

Odinioara piramidele erau placate integral, stralucind ca niste cristale in desert

Limestone once covered both the three large and the six small (women) pyramids, making them glisten like crystals in the desert

Piramida lui Micerinus poarta ranile incercarii esuate a unui sultan din sec al XII-lea sa o demoleze

The pyramid of Mycerinus (Menkaure) bares the evidence of a failed 12th century attempt to dismantle it

Sfinxul sau Abu al-Hol (in araba 'tatal terorii') a fost decupat din munte. E impresionant, dar ni-l imaginam cumva mai 'mare', si asta e de parca ti-ai intalni idolul in carne si oase si ai fi cumva… dezamagit… 

The Sphinx or Abu al-Hol (the 'father of terror' in arab) was actually carved out of bedrock. It's like meeting your idol in the flesh, impressive, but somehow smaller than we had imagined.  

Sangele faraonilor a fost drastic diluat in venele egiptenilor. Cea mai dramatica transformare se datoreaza nu generatiilor de libieni, persani, greci si romani, ci cavaleriei de 4000 de arabi, care a cucerit tara in 640 e.n. Negutatori straluciti, egiptenii moderni adora sa faca ceea ce stiu mai bine: sa vanda. Dar e destul de greu sa-ti pastrezi intacte emotia si calmul in fata Piramidelor, cand atatia oameni te trag de maneca si iti propun toate nimicurile, plimbari in caleasca sau pe camila. Ne-am impiedicat peste tot de suveniruri care nu prea respecta simbolismul unic al locului si am asistat perplecsi la biciuirea isterica a animalelor de catre oameni care au pierdut respectul pentru fiinta care le castiga painea. 

In egyptian veins, Pharaonic blood has been drastically diluted. The most dramatic transformation was not the merit of generations of Libyans, Persians, Greek and Romans, but of the 4000 Arab horsemen who conquered the country in AD 640. Masters of trade, modern egyptians love to do what they do best: sell. But it is difficult to enjoy the site, with vendors of all description tugging persistently at our sleeve, offering camel rides, caleche tours and whatnot. Tourist junk is displayed all over ancient rock and animals are hysterically whipped by men who have forgotten to respect the creature that feeds them.  

Indiferente la spectacolul comercial, Piramidele raman, desi proiectate si construite de atat de imperfectii oameni, perfecte. 

In the middle of change, the Pyramids are still standing, virtually unchanged and perfect, even if designed and built by imperfect humans.

[into-the-world-blog]

Pe Valea Nilului si de-a lungul Marii Rosii/ The Nile Valley And The Red Sea Coast

Egypt 17 - 19/07/2012 Dupa cum anuntam intr-un 'fast forward', dupa cele mai dezgustatoare negocieri si dupa ce am cotizat substantial la bugetul de Ramadan al mafiei din Assuan si Hurghada, aveam CpD si numere egiptene. As we were informing in a 'fast forward', after long negotiations and after paying for the Aswan and Hurghada mafia' s Ramadan, we finally had our own egyptian no. plates and CpD. Momentul in care am eliberat Yamaha de pe barja a fost emotionant. Freeing my mike from the shabby barge brought us to tears. In port jale, dar noi eram nespus de fericiti sa recapatam libertatea The port looked like a dump, but we were on cloud nine Egiptul, se spune, e un dar al Nilului. Am pornit in directia Luxor, de-a lungul fecundei vai a celui mai mare fluviu din lume. In Luxor, un oras modern construit pe ruinele vechi de 4000 de ani ale Tebei, ne-am facut timp pentru putina arhitectura antica. Intrarea in temple se facea prin aleea bordata de sfincsi. Egypt is said to be a gift of the Nile. To cross it, we took the road along the fecund Nile Valley. In Luxor, a modern town built on 4000 year old ruin of Thebes, we had time to take in some ancient architecture. Entrance to the highly restricted temple was along a paved processional way, bordered by sphinxes. Masivul portal este marcat de un obelisc, odata placat cu aur la partea superioara, pentru ca primele raze ale soarelui sa fie proiectate in interior, infuzand spatiul sacru cu viata. The massive pylon gateway to the Luxor temple is marked by an obelisk. Its pinnacle was once covered in gold, so that it projected the live-giving first rays of sun into the temple.   Tempul din Luxor, ca si complexul din Karnak, si ca toate templele din Egiptul antic, erau construite pe situri considerate sacre. Faraonii isi demonstrau piosenia fata de acestea prin propriile modificari aduse structurilor existente. Karnak este cel mai bun exemplu, inregistrand mai mult de 2000 de ani de interventii. The temple of Luxor, just like the adjacent complex of Karnak, and like all egyptian temples, was built on sacred sites. The pharaohs were keen to contribute their own design to the existing buildings. The most prominent example is Karnak, the result of over 2000 years of reconstruction. Ritualul era in fapt o procesiune, ceea ce a dictat organizarea templului de-a lungul unei axe longitudinale est-vest. Sala hipostila marca tranzitia dintre curtea interioara innundata de lumina si diferitele incaperi sacre care erau intentionat construite din ce in ce mai intunecate si mai inguste, pana la altar (naos), rezervat in exclusivitate faraonului, marelui preot, si zeului. The processional egyptian rituals dictated a longitudinal temple layout. The hypostyle hall marked the transition from the open courtyard to the progressively smaller and darker succeeding rooms, the last and least accessible one being the sanctuary (naos) where only the god, the pharaoh, or the high priest could enter. Sala hipostila din Karnak a fost restaurata structural, dar imagineaza-ti cat de splendid aratau decoratiunile originare! The hypostyle hall of Karnak has been restored to give an idea of its past monumentality, but picture this place decorated in splendid colors. Daca alte culturi creeaza arta in scop decorativ, egiptenii antici i-au acordat un rol strict functional. Timp de mai bine de trei milenii, arta egipteana si-a pastrat principiile formale: contur clar al siluetelor, profil cu nas si gura si ochii desenati in intregime (pentru ca figura sa poata respira si vedea); astfel reprezentarea zeului sau persoanei putea functiona eficient in urma reactivarii corecte. Hieroglifele inscrise pe temple si morminte reprezentau in general cele 5 nume ale faraonului, urmate de epitete ca 'sanatate', 'prosperitate', viata'; asa cum in islam numele Profetului Mahommed este urmat de formula 'pace fie cu el'. Whereas in most cultures it's purpose is decorative, Egyptian art, largely unchanged for over 3000 years, was essentially functional. The clear outline, the profile of nose and mouth, the eyes shown as if see from the front were techniques that ensured that the figure could breathe and see and, when magically reactivated through correct rituals, able to function effectively. The hieroglyphic inscriptions usually represent the five names of the pharaoh, followed by protective symbols and epithets such as 'life' or 'health', just like under Islam, the name of the Prophet Mohammed is followed by the formula 'peace be upon him'. Sometimes a cartouche was carved, to protect the royal names, or to prevent potentially negative elements to be magically reactivated. Dupa atata efort intelectual si o intalnire scurta cu Carola, drumul catre Hurghada era o idee numai buna. Peisajul era fabulos, orasul insa nu. Amestecul de kitsch arhitectural si comercialism fanatic in plin santier si mormane de gunoaie este cu atat mai deranjant, intr-o astfel de locatie privilegiata. After so much intellectual effort and a brief meeting with Carola, the ride to Hurghada was a welcome relief. The scenery was breathtaking, but the city was not. The sorry babylon of kitsch contemporary architecture and rubble chucked in such a stunning location is appalling. Chiar daca ne-am fi permis sa dam 100 de dolari de persoana pe noapte la all-inclusive in hotelurile de 5 stele, locul asta nu era pentru noi. 100 de km mai departe nu am rezistat insa tentatiei, si am facut o baie rapida in atat de albastra Mare Rosie, apoi i-am dat bice sa trecem linia de sosire in cursa Cape Town - Cairo. Even if we could have afforded the 100 dollars per person (all inclusive)  required to stay a night in the massive tourist hub, it was not the right place for us. 100 km north we couldn't resist taking a dip in the uber blue waters of the Red Sea, then, rejuvenated, we rushed to complete our Cape to Cairo race.