I don't have much time to write, but it's been an interesting couple of days. I left
damascus for homs to see arguably the best preserved crusader castle, crac des chevaliers, with a canadian teacher from saudi arabia who had tony the tiger tattooed on his leg (i just had so many good memories of the cereal as a kid, and it's so fucking good). then, on the way up to hama, i met a kid named wahib from a little town outside hama called kfarbou. he invited me to spend a couple of days with him, so i've been there since yesterday, riding around on motorcycles around the town, watching football, getting fed like a king by his mom (she even did all my laundry, i feel clean for the first time since i left seattle). tomorrow we will go to aleppo, and then i'll go down to jordan, with maybe another night in damascus.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Danny D the Demon of Damascus
I've been pretty lax on my writing because, I think, I'm becoming less conscious of home and more engaged in where I am. Good for me, bad for you all.
Yesterday I took a bus to a monastary in the Syrian mountains founded by a guy named Father Paolo 50 years ago to prove that inter-religous dialogue is possible. There I played the most scenic game of football ever-- down the mountain from the monastary as the sun was setting and the moon rising with a bunch of Syrian guys. One of them everyone kept telling me was crazy-- he kept trying to give me a red card, and then when I said he could kill me in 3 moves. Hm. We came up in time for evening mass, and then a communal meal, afterwhich I watched football on the roof with a bunch of monks loudly rooting for Ghana. During the halftime, I found the crazy Syrian standing by himself, listening to Tupac. After talking to him about Hip Hop, he said he was a rapper, and wrote for a Palestinian undergound artist. I asked him to rap for me, which was pretty hilarious.
Today we woke up, and had a long Sunday mass led by Father Paolo himself, afterwhich we hung around. Spent an hour with the crazy Syrian watching Three Six Mafia videos on his laptop and having him try to convince me to spend the night again-- I take it the rest of the monastary wasn't to big on his music choices. After saying goodbye to everyone (including an Italian named Danny D the Demon of Damascus, who kissed my neck a little sensually when we left..)I crammed into a microbus (read:very micro) with: two italians, a french priest, two germans, a swede, a brit, and 3 syrian boys and made it back to Damascus.
Now, to have my first shower and change of clothes in 2 days, and to drink in the Christian quarter and watch the game England/Germany game. I'm with two germans and a brit; I'm looking forward to it.
Yesterday I took a bus to a monastary in the Syrian mountains founded by a guy named Father Paolo 50 years ago to prove that inter-religous dialogue is possible. There I played the most scenic game of football ever-- down the mountain from the monastary as the sun was setting and the moon rising with a bunch of Syrian guys. One of them everyone kept telling me was crazy-- he kept trying to give me a red card, and then when I said he could kill me in 3 moves. Hm. We came up in time for evening mass, and then a communal meal, afterwhich I watched football on the roof with a bunch of monks loudly rooting for Ghana. During the halftime, I found the crazy Syrian standing by himself, listening to Tupac. After talking to him about Hip Hop, he said he was a rapper, and wrote for a Palestinian undergound artist. I asked him to rap for me, which was pretty hilarious.
Today we woke up, and had a long Sunday mass led by Father Paolo himself, afterwhich we hung around. Spent an hour with the crazy Syrian watching Three Six Mafia videos on his laptop and having him try to convince me to spend the night again-- I take it the rest of the monastary wasn't to big on his music choices. After saying goodbye to everyone (including an Italian named Danny D the Demon of Damascus, who kissed my neck a little sensually when we left..)I crammed into a microbus (read:very micro) with: two italians, a french priest, two germans, a swede, a brit, and 3 syrian boys and made it back to Damascus.
Now, to have my first shower and change of clothes in 2 days, and to drink in the Christian quarter and watch the game England/Germany game. I'm with two germans and a brit; I'm looking forward to it.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Lord of the Syrian Flies
I don't know if this will post, because the Syrian government blocks facebook and many blogs, but here it goes:
When I last wrote I was in Baalbeck, where that night I had met some of the travelers from Talals. Went to bed after watching the football match, and the next morning, along with the brit, traveled to the largest Ummayed ruins in all of the Middle East. Afterwards, a wine tasting at one of Lebanon's biggest vineyards. Some pretty dreadful wine. Afterwards, we parted, I to head down to Beirut, and he back to Baalbeck to cross to Syria. After getting dropped off on the middle of a freeway by my busdriver, I took a car back to Talals, where I met a German girl, a UW student (small world), and my new favorite person in the world, Hiro, a 37 year old chemical engineer from Japan who has traveled for three years without going back to Japan with his guitar, writing hundreds of these delicate Japanese ballads.
When it got dark and the power came back on, we all went back to the downtown area to have dinner and watch the football match, and then to a cafe to have a nargileh. The people next to us had this huge fruit platter they didn't finish, so we, being enterprising backpackers, took it. Can't fuck with 30USD worth of free fruit.
After getting back to the hotel and having a beer, we went to bed. Both Hiro and Sopha, the German girl, also wanted to go to Syria, so the next morning we boarded a microbus from Charles Helou to Damascus. I had no problems at the border, thanks to the Visa I had already procured.
In Damascus, we arrived at the best hostel I've seen thus far. Though we are all sleeping on the roof again, the hotel has a beautiful courtyard with a fountain and a little cafe to drink fresh juice.
That afternoon, I split off to have lunch and another nargileh while watching the football match with a guy who just graduated from Wesleyan, and now is getting his doctorate in Islamic studies.
That night, Sopha and I, along with a Italian journalist for Reuters, walked around the old city. I was surprised, because for the first time since I've been here I saw them, as women, getting harassed by men. Maybe because Syria is more conservative than Lebanon.
Now, we're going to go shopping, maybe to see the old mosque. Sopha and I will go to a hamam to get a scrub down, which is much needed.
When I last wrote I was in Baalbeck, where that night I had met some of the travelers from Talals. Went to bed after watching the football match, and the next morning, along with the brit, traveled to the largest Ummayed ruins in all of the Middle East. Afterwards, a wine tasting at one of Lebanon's biggest vineyards. Some pretty dreadful wine. Afterwards, we parted, I to head down to Beirut, and he back to Baalbeck to cross to Syria. After getting dropped off on the middle of a freeway by my busdriver, I took a car back to Talals, where I met a German girl, a UW student (small world), and my new favorite person in the world, Hiro, a 37 year old chemical engineer from Japan who has traveled for three years without going back to Japan with his guitar, writing hundreds of these delicate Japanese ballads.
When it got dark and the power came back on, we all went back to the downtown area to have dinner and watch the football match, and then to a cafe to have a nargileh. The people next to us had this huge fruit platter they didn't finish, so we, being enterprising backpackers, took it. Can't fuck with 30USD worth of free fruit.
After getting back to the hotel and having a beer, we went to bed. Both Hiro and Sopha, the German girl, also wanted to go to Syria, so the next morning we boarded a microbus from Charles Helou to Damascus. I had no problems at the border, thanks to the Visa I had already procured.
In Damascus, we arrived at the best hostel I've seen thus far. Though we are all sleeping on the roof again, the hotel has a beautiful courtyard with a fountain and a little cafe to drink fresh juice.
That afternoon, I split off to have lunch and another nargileh while watching the football match with a guy who just graduated from Wesleyan, and now is getting his doctorate in Islamic studies.
That night, Sopha and I, along with a Italian journalist for Reuters, walked around the old city. I was surprised, because for the first time since I've been here I saw them, as women, getting harassed by men. Maybe because Syria is more conservative than Lebanon.
Now, we're going to go shopping, maybe to see the old mosque. Sopha and I will go to a hamam to get a scrub down, which is much needed.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Baalbek
I have overspent my budget and am now eating beef jerkey for dinner.
Last night, I spent several hours smoking sheesha with a chef from Dubai, was tired and went to bed early.
Today, I woke up early to be fed by my hotel owner, this wiry guy missing teeth and cackling at my attempts to speak arabic. I walked around the souk as it was opening. Quiet -- as quiet as Tripoli gets-- except for the sounds of footsteps and doors slamming open, water being poured to clean the stone floors. Got Mom a present from the oldest soap shop in Lebanon (400+ years old), drank coffee in the stores interior. Walked around drinking fresh squeezed orange juice from an old water bottle.
Then I took a bus to Bcharre, up in the mountains. Fucking beautiful, the town is on the edge of the qaadisha valley, flanked by red rocky mountains. The real treat, though, is the Chour cedar reserve 20 km northeast. I had intended to only take a taxi to the cedars and then back to bcharre and then back to Beirut. However, I could also hire a car to take me to the cedars, and then up over the mountains to Baalbek for 70USD. Steep price, but the area was so fucking beautiful and I wanted to see the rest of it, the mountains and then watch as I descended into Baalbek. Plus, it meant that instead of over the next two days bussing for 6 hours I took a car for two. Hence why I am eating jerkey.
So, I got into the car with the driver and his wife, who shared their lunch with me -- potato and olive oil wrapped in a tortilla thing, and a big bag of apricots and cherries. The cedars smelled like Lake Tahoe almost, and it looked like the meadows around Mount Rainier. Little blue flowers and wheat.
Oh! and it turns out Lebanese women love me. Slight edit: those women are 14and in braces. These two girls insisted I give them my email, and then excused themselves because they had to go to animation class.
We trekked through the mountains, getting stopped by herds of goats. And then we descended into Baalbek, where we promptly got 2 flat tires (better than had it been in the mountains...).
Once I got to my hotel and bought a Hezbollah teeshirt (Baalbek is where Hezbollah is headquartered), I explored the ruins, including the biggest, best preserved temple to Jupiter and Dionysis in the world. I was several thousand years too late for the opium and wine filled orgies, but tomorrow I could go to a concert (Mika) on the steps of the temple to Jupiter. Too expensive though as I am eating jerky.
Just as I was missing home, or at least the friendliness of the people I met in Beirut, I ran into two Italians from the first hostel I stayed in while in Beirut. So, now, I'm off to watch the football game at a bar with them. Tomorrow to Beirut and see Azmi.
Last night, I spent several hours smoking sheesha with a chef from Dubai, was tired and went to bed early.
Today, I woke up early to be fed by my hotel owner, this wiry guy missing teeth and cackling at my attempts to speak arabic. I walked around the souk as it was opening. Quiet -- as quiet as Tripoli gets-- except for the sounds of footsteps and doors slamming open, water being poured to clean the stone floors. Got Mom a present from the oldest soap shop in Lebanon (400+ years old), drank coffee in the stores interior. Walked around drinking fresh squeezed orange juice from an old water bottle.
Then I took a bus to Bcharre, up in the mountains. Fucking beautiful, the town is on the edge of the qaadisha valley, flanked by red rocky mountains. The real treat, though, is the Chour cedar reserve 20 km northeast. I had intended to only take a taxi to the cedars and then back to bcharre and then back to Beirut. However, I could also hire a car to take me to the cedars, and then up over the mountains to Baalbek for 70USD. Steep price, but the area was so fucking beautiful and I wanted to see the rest of it, the mountains and then watch as I descended into Baalbek. Plus, it meant that instead of over the next two days bussing for 6 hours I took a car for two. Hence why I am eating jerkey.
So, I got into the car with the driver and his wife, who shared their lunch with me -- potato and olive oil wrapped in a tortilla thing, and a big bag of apricots and cherries. The cedars smelled like Lake Tahoe almost, and it looked like the meadows around Mount Rainier. Little blue flowers and wheat.
Oh! and it turns out Lebanese women love me. Slight edit: those women are 14and in braces. These two girls insisted I give them my email, and then excused themselves because they had to go to animation class.
We trekked through the mountains, getting stopped by herds of goats. And then we descended into Baalbek, where we promptly got 2 flat tires (better than had it been in the mountains...).
Once I got to my hotel and bought a Hezbollah teeshirt (Baalbek is where Hezbollah is headquartered), I explored the ruins, including the biggest, best preserved temple to Jupiter and Dionysis in the world. I was several thousand years too late for the opium and wine filled orgies, but tomorrow I could go to a concert (Mika) on the steps of the temple to Jupiter. Too expensive though as I am eating jerky.
Just as I was missing home, or at least the friendliness of the people I met in Beirut, I ran into two Italians from the first hostel I stayed in while in Beirut. So, now, I'm off to watch the football game at a bar with them. Tomorrow to Beirut and see Azmi.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
"You Are... Verrrrrrryyyy White.."
After I got off the internet my Chinese friends and I traveled to the beach. We were walking down the prominade, where on the otherside is a five foot drop, some rocks and the water. Not quite a beach, but flat ish and right by the sea. We were flagged down by 4 guys smoking sheesha on the rocks to come swimming, probably because they love asian girls in Beirut (Ashtaa ashtaaa -- hot, hot). One of them, Muhammad, spoke very good English -- he's computer science engineer at AUB and originally from Saudi Arabia, where his father works for Aramco -- the other two did OK, and one, a Palestinian refugee living in one of the camps, didn't at all. But the Palestinian was my favorite, he loved American pop music (I have a video of him singing Cyclone, "She move body cyyyyyccclooooneee she wanna ahniteLOONGGG"), and he was covered in all these crazy scars, which through the AUB student we learned were mostly from being knifed. He was apparently a very good soccer player, but couldn't play anywhere because he's Palestinian. Through his friend I asked him, while looking at his scars, if he had problems being Palestinian in Beirut. He shrugged. "You get used to them", he said.
Anyways, Mom, now that I've made you quake in your heels a little bit, we went swimming and drank Almaza, and then after a few hours, when my belly wasn't jawdroppingly white (actually-- they looked at it, paused, and said "you are... very white"), we left to have dinner in the Souk, the fancy shopping district in Beirut. The Honduras/Spain match was on, so we sat around smoking sheesha, drinking Almaza, and eating pickled bar snacks while watching the game on a big projection screen. It was bizarre to be watching the game, and suddenly hear the call to prayer-- all while getting caught off guard by the stunningly beautiful Lebanese and French girls walking around.
Another note on the girls-- christ. 80% of the girls walking around here would turn heads in the states. Here, they still turn heads, but you don't know where to look or who to look at. It's a constant ashta ashta parade.
Anyways, the two Chinese had a friend playing in a band near the Souk at a music festival that was going on, so we went to watch them. They were kind of shit-- "Circle of Fire-- Acoustic Progressive Rock", but more entertaining was the band after them, "Episode -- Progressive Symphonic", which meant a bass, a drummer, and this electric violinist. I took videos.
We went found our way home to sleep, after chatting for a bit about propaganda in China -- apparently, according to the Chinese government, the Dali Lama drinks out of a bejewelled skull goblet.
... reallly?
This morning, I decided I was sick of Beirut but didn't want to go all the way to Syria, so I took a bus to Byblos, about 17km north. I walked around the ruins and the souk there, and met another American from California at the ruins. He was a little bit like eyore, until I expressed my distaste for Lebanese bus drivers ("Scoundrels! Greedy! Satanic Reincarnates!"). I liked him more. We might meet up in the West Bank, as we'll probably be there similar times.
Now, I'm in Tripoli. Tomorrow to Bcharre and the Cedars, and back to Beirut.
Anyways, Mom, now that I've made you quake in your heels a little bit, we went swimming and drank Almaza, and then after a few hours, when my belly wasn't jawdroppingly white (actually-- they looked at it, paused, and said "you are... very white"), we left to have dinner in the Souk, the fancy shopping district in Beirut. The Honduras/Spain match was on, so we sat around smoking sheesha, drinking Almaza, and eating pickled bar snacks while watching the game on a big projection screen. It was bizarre to be watching the game, and suddenly hear the call to prayer-- all while getting caught off guard by the stunningly beautiful Lebanese and French girls walking around.
Another note on the girls-- christ. 80% of the girls walking around here would turn heads in the states. Here, they still turn heads, but you don't know where to look or who to look at. It's a constant ashta ashta parade.
Anyways, the two Chinese had a friend playing in a band near the Souk at a music festival that was going on, so we went to watch them. They were kind of shit-- "Circle of Fire-- Acoustic Progressive Rock", but more entertaining was the band after them, "Episode -- Progressive Symphonic", which meant a bass, a drummer, and this electric violinist. I took videos.
We went found our way home to sleep, after chatting for a bit about propaganda in China -- apparently, according to the Chinese government, the Dali Lama drinks out of a bejewelled skull goblet.
... reallly?
This morning, I decided I was sick of Beirut but didn't want to go all the way to Syria, so I took a bus to Byblos, about 17km north. I walked around the ruins and the souk there, and met another American from California at the ruins. He was a little bit like eyore, until I expressed my distaste for Lebanese bus drivers ("Scoundrels! Greedy! Satanic Reincarnates!"). I liked him more. We might meet up in the West Bank, as we'll probably be there similar times.
Now, I'm in Tripoli. Tomorrow to Bcharre and the Cedars, and back to Beirut.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Elation!
Success! I finally figured out how to get taxi drivers to drive you for the actual price (2000, which is about a dollar, instead of sometimes 5x that price). Finally I don't feel like such an asshat.
Last night I walked with four French girls and an American guy all the way down the coastal prominade, which is like 3 or 4 km. It was a trip-- all these families sitting around smoking nargileh, people competing to see who can play the loudest American or Hindi pop. Anyways, we got to pigeon rock and I realized I needed to get to the couch I was surfing before 11, so I walked all the way back the 4km, checked out of the hostel, and then walked another 2-3km before I realized that I was in the wrong neighborhood. However, that neighborhood was populated with soccer bars, where people were freaking the fuck out about Brazil (it seems all Lebanese support Brazil, so much so that people are hanging out of cars waving Brazilian flags, people are all wearing green and yellow, and flags are hanging everywhere). Anyways, big ups to my Armenian security guard friend who helped me realize my mistake and put me in a cab and insisted that the driver give me a fair price to Gedawi hospital in Achrafiyeh. By the time I got there, I was tired, covered in sweat, and my feet had started to develop these big, fluid filled blisters. To add insult to injury, the directions I was given to get to the apartment were based on landmarks (go past the shop with chickens in front, apartment with black bars on the front). Unfortunately, because it was 11:30PM, the shop with the chickens had closed, making it look like every other closed shop, and all the fucking apartments in Beirut have black bars on the front. When I found what I thought to be the apartment, the main gate was blocked. However, another one of the tenants came. Using 2 of the 5 arabic words I know (boy and girl i repeated as I pointed to the apartment), I finally made it to my home stay.
I'm staying with two British students at the local university. Both of them are very nice, though the guy is a little abrasive (I thanked him so profusely when I finally found the apartment that he stopped me to say, goodnaturedly of course, "you want to lick my asshole or something? jesus, give the thanks a rest". There are two chinese people staying in the apartment as well, which has been nice-- we are all at an internet cafe in the student area, Hamra, while they figure out how to get a visa to Turkey.
Beach day today! Then, I might go to Syria tomorrow depending on where Ben and Scout and my Syrian friend Azmi are.
Last night I walked with four French girls and an American guy all the way down the coastal prominade, which is like 3 or 4 km. It was a trip-- all these families sitting around smoking nargileh, people competing to see who can play the loudest American or Hindi pop. Anyways, we got to pigeon rock and I realized I needed to get to the couch I was surfing before 11, so I walked all the way back the 4km, checked out of the hostel, and then walked another 2-3km before I realized that I was in the wrong neighborhood. However, that neighborhood was populated with soccer bars, where people were freaking the fuck out about Brazil (it seems all Lebanese support Brazil, so much so that people are hanging out of cars waving Brazilian flags, people are all wearing green and yellow, and flags are hanging everywhere). Anyways, big ups to my Armenian security guard friend who helped me realize my mistake and put me in a cab and insisted that the driver give me a fair price to Gedawi hospital in Achrafiyeh. By the time I got there, I was tired, covered in sweat, and my feet had started to develop these big, fluid filled blisters. To add insult to injury, the directions I was given to get to the apartment were based on landmarks (go past the shop with chickens in front, apartment with black bars on the front). Unfortunately, because it was 11:30PM, the shop with the chickens had closed, making it look like every other closed shop, and all the fucking apartments in Beirut have black bars on the front. When I found what I thought to be the apartment, the main gate was blocked. However, another one of the tenants came. Using 2 of the 5 arabic words I know (boy and girl i repeated as I pointed to the apartment), I finally made it to my home stay.
I'm staying with two British students at the local university. Both of them are very nice, though the guy is a little abrasive (I thanked him so profusely when I finally found the apartment that he stopped me to say, goodnaturedly of course, "you want to lick my asshole or something? jesus, give the thanks a rest". There are two chinese people staying in the apartment as well, which has been nice-- we are all at an internet cafe in the student area, Hamra, while they figure out how to get a visa to Turkey.
Beach day today! Then, I might go to Syria tomorrow depending on where Ben and Scout and my Syrian friend Azmi are.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
"I keep doing double take because I think I seeing Shakira"
I'm too tired to write much because my jetlagged, heat addled, and slightly hungover brain isn't doing so well. Last night as I was writing I met some Danish and Swedish travelers. We ended up going to a strange club with maybe the worst/most amusing DJ I've ever heard in my life (example: he played a disco remix of that song from The Lion King, naaaaaa mabeyyahhhhh nagisimalahhhh). However, what the music lacked was made up for by the girls (enter quote by one of the Danes, Mass). I went to bed on the roof as the sun was coming up, which was unfortunate because 2 hours later the sun became so hot that I had to retreat into one of the communal spaces to sleep more.
Today I've been walking around, visiting various churches, mosques, and the national museum (Maria, I took pictures of the jewlery for ya). Beirut is really beautiful in a strange way-- the buildings are very boxy and bleak (and many are ridden with bullet holes), but it contrasts with the patches of palm trees and greenery in a cool way. Other than that, I've now been ripped off by two cabdrivers because, by the time I decide I want to take a cab, I'm too tired to finaggle for a 5 or 6 dollar difference, which doesn't mean much financially but on principle irks me.
Anyways, I hope you all are doing well.
Today I've been walking around, visiting various churches, mosques, and the national museum (Maria, I took pictures of the jewlery for ya). Beirut is really beautiful in a strange way-- the buildings are very boxy and bleak (and many are ridden with bullet holes), but it contrasts with the patches of palm trees and greenery in a cool way. Other than that, I've now been ripped off by two cabdrivers because, by the time I decide I want to take a cab, I'm too tired to finaggle for a 5 or 6 dollar difference, which doesn't mean much financially but on principle irks me.
Anyways, I hope you all are doing well.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Welcome to Beirut (where you can make sex with the girls-- if that is your thing)
Just arrived in Beirut, Lebanon about thirty minutes ago. Was a strange journey to get here-- on my way in I sat next to an Italian woman doing her post-doc at WSU. The good news: I now have a place to stay if I go to Rome. The bad news: I reminded her of her first love (because I can't grow a beard), and so she spent much of the flight alternating from hitting on me ("I only have boyfriend in Pullman...") to bursting into tears. I got to Paris, where I found Molly's fiancee. He took me on a whirlwind tour of Paris, swerving into the best photospots ("you see how we drive in Paris? Beep beep! Beep beep!"). Had a pretty uneventful flight to Beirut, but I arrived too late to go to the house where I'm supposed to be couchsurfing, so I'm staying at a hostel in Gemmeyah. The owner, Talal, is really nice, and informed me that here I can do anything (Drink! Smoke! Make sex with the girls-- if that is your thing!) Unfortunately he has no more beds, so I'm sleeping on the roof (good thing you bought me that cacoon, Mom!). I should meet up with my couchsurfing hosts tomorrow morning. It's hot as a motherfucker here; for those who have seen me in the gym, even the most minimal effort causes me to sweat profusely. Here, minimal effort qualifies as walking up a small flight of stairs. Whoop! Miss you all.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Leaving Tomorrow
I'm creating this blog to keep those interested updated as to where I am in the world, as well as to continually reassure my mother that I've yet to be abducted.
Part of me wonders why I'm leaving, while part of me knows that it's the absolute right thing to do. I wanted to go somewhere and do something that'll push me out of my comfort zone, make me grow up, and all the while see things that a lot of people wont see. Hopefully my trip will accomplish all of those things, but even if it only leads me to, at some point next year when I'm feeling like shit, being able tell myself, "you can do it, you already survived ______ by yourself", I think it'll be a success. At the very least, I wont be spending the next month drinking in Cal Anderson/Mad Park/DB, so I can come back refreshed and reminded why we all love doing that in the first place!
I'm leaving tomorrow for Paris where I'll hang out with Maria's sister and her fiancée. I have a couple of hours there, and then I fly to Beirut, where I'm couchsurfing with a guy and his girlfriend (look for this premise in the next Hostel movie). I'll keep y'all updated as to where I am, when I'm there.
ALSO: if you have friends, family, friends of friends, or anyone you know in Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and/or Israel and are down to give me their contact info, I would love to have someone to get a drink with. Thanks!
Part of me wonders why I'm leaving, while part of me knows that it's the absolute right thing to do. I wanted to go somewhere and do something that'll push me out of my comfort zone, make me grow up, and all the while see things that a lot of people wont see. Hopefully my trip will accomplish all of those things, but even if it only leads me to, at some point next year when I'm feeling like shit, being able tell myself, "you can do it, you already survived ______ by yourself", I think it'll be a success. At the very least, I wont be spending the next month drinking in Cal Anderson/Mad Park/DB, so I can come back refreshed and reminded why we all love doing that in the first place!
I'm leaving tomorrow for Paris where I'll hang out with Maria's sister and her fiancée. I have a couple of hours there, and then I fly to Beirut, where I'm couchsurfing with a guy and his girlfriend (look for this premise in the next Hostel movie). I'll keep y'all updated as to where I am, when I'm there.
ALSO: if you have friends, family, friends of friends, or anyone you know in Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and/or Israel and are down to give me their contact info, I would love to have someone to get a drink with. Thanks!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)