PARAGUAY FIRST IMPRESSIONS-- A STEP BACK FROM THE GLOBAL VILLAGE

When I made my big VW van trip to India in 1969-71 I remember this bizarre sensation I got sometimes, especially in Afghanistan and Nepal, that I wasn't merely traveling in space but also in time-- backwards in time. Like that first day in Herat, especially after smoking hash stronger than acid with some tribal elders, I started thinking I was back in Biblical times. Nothing to do with anything about the Bible, just it was a long time ago.

Well, it's almost 2007 and... today I was feeling like I was in pre-call center India circa 1970. Ever since I left Buenos Aires I've been feeling more and more like Joseph Conrad... descending... or a Paul Bowles character. Here are some notes I jotted down on the bus today after I had somehow managed to get out of Brazil and into a more-chaotic-than-normal Paraguay:

Ciudad del Este is one of Paraguay's two portals to the modern world, a border town on the bank of the Parana River across from Foz Iguassu in Brazil. You'd think it would be more... um... cosmopolitan than the rest of the country. If it is, I'll be pre-Biblical in no time at all. This is a foresaken hellhole with garbage-strewn streets and the air of decay, really seedy decay. All the strides Brazil and Argentina have made to become thoroughly integral parts of the 21st Century global economy... well, I'm not even seeing a baby step over on this side of the Parana.

This morning I woke up in the Tropical Hotel Cataratas inside the ecological Iguazu Falls National Park that spans chunks or Brazil and Argentina and which I plan to write about at great length when I get home and can show you my wonderful photos. But now I'm on the other side of the Friendship Bridge, after great exertions. It feels like I put enough time and energy in to have gone hundreds of miles instead of a dozen. But in many ways it feels not like a dozen or like hundreds but like thousands of miles. It sure ain't Kansas... nor even the most extreme and distant corners of Brazil or Argentina. And no one has ever mentioned "ecological" to the folks hereabouts, believe me. The sky darkened ominously as we crossed the border and it started to rain-- the first rain I've seen since arriving in South America.

Early this morning CNN informed me that there is rioting in Asuncion, the capital. It wasn't anti-American or even anti-Bush and I figured it didn't look threatening enough on tv for me to change my plans. When I eventually got to the bus station in Foz I was soaked in sweat and disgruntled. It was then that the bus company agent informed me that the Brazilian buses were refusing to cross the border because of strikes and demonstrations in Paraguay. (A little aside: I could have saved myself a lot of hassles. First off I should have taken a plane. It costs $45 from Ciudad del Este to Asuncion on TAM. I had called TAM, a Brazilian airline, and asked if I could fly from Foz to Asuncion. They said they had no direct flights but I could fly from Foz to Sao Paulo to Asuncion for $900. They neglected to mention they fly direct from the airport 10 miles from Foz, just over the Brazil-Paraguay border. Second, I should have taken a taxi from the hotel to the bus terminal instead of 3 buses, but the taxis-- and all other services--have special prices for foreigners. A Brazilian would pay around $15. For a foreigner it's $75. I'll get more into this when I write about Iguazu after I'm back in the U.S.)

Anyway, before I interupted myself, I was saying how the bus agent explained there would be no bus to Asuncion. However, he offered to take me in a couple of private cars to Ciudad del Este where there is a bus going to Asuncion. Okey-dokey. He didn't even charge me and I wound up in some kind of a parking lot in this filthy squalid dump on the border and then on a small, uncomfortable, freezing bus with a boisterous Brazilian couple. It only went in second gear. Eventually he stopped at an actual bus terminal and the bus filled up with people going to their capital city. Maybe the extra weight allowed him to get into the higher gears. It was a 5 hour trip.

I felt like I was back in India: scrawny chickens, scrawny cattle, scrawny dogs, scrawny children all over the roads. Verdent green everywhere, tropical vegetation, smoke from fires permeating everything... hovels lining the 2 lane highway (Paraguay's best road). This is the developed part of the country. Up north, where Bush's ranch is, it's supposed to be backward, really backward. Anyway, down here in developed Paraguay there were virtually no cars, just trucks and buses. India has come a long way; Paraguay hasn't.

Asuncion is quite a step up from what I just described-- but hardly a modern city; hadly a city at all, in fact. There are open sewers where sidewalks should be. I'm in the tropics. It could be Africa. It sure couldn't be Buenos Aires or Montevideo.

I did manage to find a haute cuisine restaurant and it was completely delicious-- Mburicaò. I had a grilled local river fish on a bed of lightly curried vegetables and it was fantastic and there was lots of it. It was like $12. No one spoke English and there was no menu in English. No one speaks English anywhere in Paraguay so far. Oh, the guys at the desk of the hotel speak English-- a bit. I have a feeling that's the only qualification needed to get the job-- a little English. I mean it is a Sheraton.


UPDATE: ASUNCION LOOKS BETTER IN THE LIGHT OF DAY

It's still very much a third world city, but the nice bright sunshine helps highlight some charms. And this Sheraton I'm at isn't really in the center (where the open sewers have been paved over). I can see that my hopes to actually visit the Bush ranch are unrealistic. There are no roads and the few people in the lightly inhabited area don't speak Spanish, just Guarani. There are no buses or anything like that that get anywhere near the region and I was told that the only way to get close to it is to rent a private plane-- or hike... for a couple of weeks. Every single person who I discussed it with have told me I would be killed if I tried to go there. I think I'll try the downtown siteseeing instead.


UPDATE: AH... THERE'S A REASON SO FEW TOURISTS COME TO PARAGUAY

India is more interesting. I did manage to see all the mains sights in Asuncion. I probably inhaled enough toxic fumes to have taken 5 years of eating raw food and taking 30 supplements a day off my lifespan. The heat and humidity are staggering. The traffic congestion is beyond anything conceivable in L.A.


There is apparently no such thing as zoning in Asuncion. It's kind of interesting; it's the most mixed used place I've ever been to. Everywhere you look you see a meticulously kept colonial mansion--and that's not a style; it's a house built when Asuncion was the capital of the southern part of the Spanish Empire-- delicately painted sky blue or rose pink, sitting next to a greasy car repair shop/junk yard with rusting hulks of trucks in front of it. And next to that an optomitrist, a clinic, a mall and 20 kiosks. Speaking of optomitry, it is apparently the primary profession hereabouts. Remember how I mentioned that Buenos Aires has more hairdressers per square inch than any other place on earth? Asuncion has more optomitrists than any other place on earth. I will insert a photo here when I get home. I took it from the Plaza de Heroes and it shows 8 optomitrists' shops in a row. And every block seems to have one or two. If I had time I would investigate.

I took a city bus downtown. It costs 2,100 guaranis. There are 5,360 guaranis to the dollar. The buses, belching heavy black exhaust, crawl along and never bother closing their doors. People jump on and off at will-- including vendors selling food and drink and whatever else you can imagine. Everyone seems to agree I couldn't get within 100 miles of the Bush estate and that if I did I would never be heard from again. Apparently there's a "low level" rebellion going on in the region and the U.S. has a base up there "training" Paraguayans to exterminate the locals fight the terrorists. Maybe we can ask Jane Harman to look into that.

I am leaning toward heading off to Iberà, a swamp near (relatively near) Posadas in Agentina. It's supposed to be the Serengeti of South America with more species of animals than anywhere else in the hemisphere. The drawback is that there's no easy way to get there-- from anywhere. Next week I'm going to Tierra del Fuego. I met some Brits in Iguazu who had just come from there and they said it was zero degrees. I'm not sure if that is centigrade or fahrenheit-- but does it matter?

AND NOW A FEW WORDS FROM YOUR URUGUAY EXPERT

You don't think being in the country for like 8 hours makes me an expert yet? Me neither; but until today I don't think I recall ever meeting anyone who had been here longer. It sure is different from Buenos Aires! Montevideo is a kicked back town, almost rustic compared to sophisticated Buenos Aires, just down the Plata (and on the other side of that wide river).

This morning I took a fast ferry-- there's also a slow ferry-- to Colonia de Sacramento (bka- Colonia). It took an hour and it was comfy and pleasant. I met a really nice woman in the lounge before boarding, Ana, who works for HSBC. It's a whole other story but I can't emphasize enough that traveling solo affords opportunities that are rarely available to people who travel with someone. I like it both ways but I always talk with Americans who can't seem to fathom the idea of traveling alone. While I was waiting at the bus station I ran into a guy from Milwaukee named Tom who had ridden his motorcycle all the way down here. What a trip he's having!

Anyway, Colonia, which was founded by the Portuguese and chose to stay with Brazil instead of joining Uruguay-- although it doesn't share a contiguous border with Brazil-- is always raved about by everyone as a picturesque jewel of colonial architecture and so on. It's nice and it took me about an hour to see it all. I could have seen it in 30 minutes if I were in a hurry.

The bus to Montevideo took two and a half hours through the gently rolling Uruguayan countryside. It's a small rural country with 3 million people, half of whom live in Montevideo (which boasts a tree for every person, something I am willing to attest to from what I've seen so far).

Uruguay is far less cosmopolitan than Buenos Aires. Everyone looks like they came from Spain (whereas Argentina looks like a real hodgepodge-- a good one-- of Europe). Buenos Aires is a vertical city, tall buildings and stunning architecture everywhere. Montevideo's people seem less inclined to live in apartment buildings and the city is more horizontal. The public spaces are less ship-shape, although the private houses and their gardens look ver well-kept-up.

Uruguay is a social welfare state and everyone is kind of middle class. There are no great disparities in wealth apparent, the way there are in the U.S. and Argentina. I mentioned a few days ago that Argentines dress up and are ultra fashion-conscious. Here in Montevideo people are casual and even a little slovenly-- tee shirts, shorts and flip-flops everywhere.

I'm staying at the new Sheraton Hotel, which is supposed to be the best in town. The staff is friendly-- and very young. Sometimes in a new city I ask a concierge to recommend the best eating experience in town. Some concierges know; others don't. I should have been more thoughtful about this one when I realized he was the busboy and the concierge. He suggested a seafood restaurant called Francis. It's run by a bunch of kids and it isn't bad by any means but I know there are better restaurants in town. There have to be! This chef seemed to be having a good time experimenting with combining whatever came to mind. Some of it worked well, some of it worked less well. I have to admit that I was distracted from my meal by the manager furiously picking his nose the entire time I was there. No one else seemed to notice.

I've gathered that what people do here in laid-back city on a Saturday night is go for a walk along the shore (the Ramblas). The weather is beautiful and I think I'm going to do that now. After that I'm going to turn in early and soak up the Sheratoness of my new living situation. And tomorrow... they have an indoor rooftop swimming pool. I'm so glad I brought a pair of trunks!

EATING OUT IN BUENOS AIRES-- CHILA, A GREAT NEW ARGENTINE RESTAURANT

I rented an apartment in Buenos Aires so I could get the feel for living here. Every morning I prepare breakfast, pretty much the same stuff I have in L.A. I go shopping at a supermarket, Disco, and at small vegetable stores. Today I had half a white melon, very much like a honeydew, stuffed with blueberries, strawberries, pecans, lemon juice. I also prepare my own lunches. Dinners find me going out to try Argentine restaurants. When I get home I'll do a whole story on the health food scene and on the vegetarian restaurants I found-- and I´m pretty sure I've found 'em all. But today I want to write up a review of a haute cuisine restaurant my favorite concierge suggested. It's new and not in any of the guide books yet.

In fact, the whole area isn't in any of the guide books yet. The restaurant is called Chila and the area is Puerta Madera. It is the newly gentrified docks region and, man is it ever gentrified! No old word charm here, except there were two three-mast naval schooners docked along the bank and a full navy band playing a concert. The area looks real snazzy and upscale and with a grotesque combination of TGI Friday and Hooters on one side of the river and glistening highrises, complements of ABN-AMRO, Hilton, Nextel, LG, and lots of construction cranes dominating the other side, it's just the kind of area I'd steer clear of. But then I would have missed Chila.

The concierge had helped me trick the rotten Brazilians out of a visa and I wanted to celebrate with a wonderful dining experience. She said she had just eaten at Chila and that it was brand new and a secret that no one knew about yet. She said it would be empty. It was. Lucky me.

The Argentine dining scene, beyound the empañadas and parrillas is pretty sophisticated. And there are nouvelle Argentine restaurants everywhere. Chila's chef is preparing bold and exciting meals, combining delcious and unique, if not traditional, flavors. The waiter suggested a cold avocado cream with shrimps sauted in cayenne pepper. It was completely delicious and I would have liked three of them. So much for the old canard that you can't get any spicy food in Buenos Aires. As a main course I had a Sole farcí. It was stuffed with mushrooms and shrimps and in a lime juice and coconut milk sauce; served with a simple green salad. I'm glad it was a couple of miles from my apartment because I needed the nice long walk to help digest such rich food.

The restaurant is impeccably designed and would get highest grades from Zagat in the decor and service categories, two things I never care about. (I'm just in it for the food.) I do care about prices though, and here they are great-- at least for Americans. The meal cost me 75 pesos ($25) and it would have been a $75 meal in NY or L.A. Exchange rates used to work that way for Americans in Europe too. Now they work against us in the same way in Europe. Here, as long as you go to places specifically catering to locals, your dollar stretches triple.

THEY HATE BUSH MORE HERE THAN WE DO IN AMERICA. BELIEVE IT OR NOT

All through the nightmare of Bush's illegitimate regime I have continued to travel. I have written about how uncomfortable people I've met have felt about Bush in Spain, in Turkey, in Indonesia, VietNam, Morocco, Thailand, Canada, Mexico, England, Holland... And every year, the discomfiture has grown. After he re-stole the White House in 2004, the hatred started getting less subtle.

Today the big news in Argentina is how Bush's puppet in Mexico, Felipe Calderón, inaugurated himself as president of Mexico at a slap-dash secret midnight ceremony in the wee hours of the night/morning with the connivance of the outgoing PAN (Partido Acción Nacional) president, Vicente Fox. Calderón stole the Mexican election from the rightful president, Andrés López Obrador, much the same way Bush was able to steal the 2000 election from Al Gore and the 2004 election from John Kerry-- and with the help of some of the very same crooked companies and treasonous methods of vote tampering.

I spent last night with some young Argentines who I met through my friend Tómas, a guy I've been in touch with via the Internet. Although Tómas' interest in politics is minimal, his friends are extremely interested. One, Maria, told me that American democracy, through thick and thin, has been a beacon of democracy for generations of Latin Americans. "Now tyrants all over the world are learning something else than democracy from Bush. They learn to steal elections and undermine democracy."

Did Tony Blair use Bush's methods in the last U.K. election? Does anyone doubt Putin will in the next Russian election? The very legitimacy of democracy itself has been undermined by Bush, not just in our country, but around the world.

Meanwhile in Mexico, Obrador has also declared himself the legitimate, elected President of Mexico. His supporters seem very determined to defend the democracy so many of their forefathers have given their lives for. Maybe Americans have something to learn from passionate democrats in Latin America. Al Gore and John Kerry certainly do.

I ate in a great new restaurant last night and I actually took notes and will do a review soon. Right now I'm too pissed off about Bush and democracy.

A FEW SIMPLE OBSERVATIONS AFTER 4 DAYS IN BUENOS AIRES

Manifestacion by my favorite Argentine painter, Antonio Berni


I forget so much all the time-- and more now than I used to-- that I figure I´ll jot down a few simple obervations on Buenos Aires whie they´re still fresh in my mind. The people seem friendly and prosperous. They look a lot better than Americans overall, especially in terms of physical fitness. You definately don´t see lots of obese people around, although I see lots of fast food joints so there may be an obesity-explosion in the future. The folks look like Europeans... Italians, Germans, Brits, Spaniards... People dress really well. I think a lot of men think they have to wear suits and ties to show status.

I never saw so many hair salons in my life. There must be one on every block. There´s also a policeman on every block. These guys look different... less "European" and I have a strong feeling they may be poor provincials.

Prices are incredibly good. I just had dinner at Oviedo, the best seafood restaurant in town, totally fancy and DELICIOUS. In NY or L.A. it would have easily been a $60 or $70 meal. It came to $25.

Everyone is so helpful and friendy-- except the Bush-haters at the Brazilian consulate. This is definately a city I could live in. I walk miles and miles everyday and it feels completely safe, day or night.

I think I lost track of what relaxed was after the whole election thing. I have nothing pressing bothering me whatsoever and that feels incredibly good. I need to involve myself more in that when I get home.


UPDATE: THE BUILDINGS

Porteños-- residents of Buenos Aires-- live in apartment buildings. They are everywhere and they all have a porter/doorman/security guard. The city gives the feeling that it has been a giant contest among architects for the creation of something unique and pleasing. Like with so much I have found in Argentina so far, outward appearances are very important. The residential architecture is very much alive and exciting and gives the city a vibrant sophistication.

MY FIRST MONDAY IN BUENOS AIRES-- THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF GETTING A VISA FOR BRAZIL

I rented an apartment in Recoleta, an upscale Buenos Aires neighborhood. The apartment is great-- kitchen, bedroom, combo living room/dining room. I´ll do all the details for anyone interested in renting when I get back. I just wanted to share some thoughts today.

I spent most of my day trying to get a Brazilian visa for my 2 day stay on the Brazilian side of Iguazu Falls. Originally I had no intention of staying in Brazil but the only hotel on the Argentine side (IN the park) was solidly booked and there was a room available in the one Brazilian hotel in the park. If you don't stay in one of those two hotels you stay about 15 miles from the park. After I became aware how much Brazil discourages American tourists I would have put up with the 15 miles, but by that time I realized that there is NO WAY to travel from Iguazu into Paraguay without crossing into Brazil (visa).

I found all this out in L.A. when I got my easy, friendly Paraguayan visa. The consul told me I also need a Brazilian visa and that that takes between 8 days and 2 weeks. I was leaving in 5 days. I rushed to the Brazilian consulate immediately. They only answer questions between 9 and 1 and it was 1:15 so I´d have to come back the next day just to ask a question.

Eventually I tricked their Kafkaesque phone system into letting me speak to a person who pretty much admitted what I was coming to understand: Brazilians are friendly and like everyone-- except Bush. They hate him, like most people in the world. Unlike most people in the world, however, their government takes it out on Americans.

At least I'll know not to take anything personally! Long story shorter, I decided to get the visa here in Buenos Aires. Easier said than done. So many lines; I hate lines. But I waited in front of the building and then in front on a computer terminal where I had to fill out documents, all intructions being in Portuguese and Spanish naturally. Then I had to wait on a really long line for an hour or so where a lady told me I had to show a ticket in and a ticket out and needed the address and phone number of the hotel, etc. When I told her I was entering Brazil by taxi from the Argentine airport and leaving for Asuncion by bus, she said if I didn´t show a ticket I couldn't have a visa. No exceptions.

The concierge at the 4 Seasons-- the hotel is across the street from my apartment and I've adopted the concierge station there-- had a great idea. She called the hotel's travel agent who issued me a refundable ticket from Iguazo to Sao Paulo to Asuncion. Meanwhile I got Aerolinas Argentinas to send me an e-ticket. Back to the Brazilian lines. It takes 3 days to get the visa once they say OK. I had to make it by 1PM. I made it with nearly 5 minutes to spare. Of course then I had to go to a bank half a mile away to pay the $100 fee. Thursday at 4PM I can pick up my passport with the visa (unless they think of another reason to deny me access).

Europeans and Latin Americans don't need visas, by the way, just the people who allowed Bush to grab the White House (twice); it's hard to fault them.

TIERRA DEL FUEGO HERE I COME-- SOME PRELIMINARIES

It's 5:17 AM and my plane takes off just after noon for Buenos Aires (via Dallas). I decided to go to the end of the world (Tierra del Fuego, that island off the tip of South America). I'm half packed and pretty much ready to go. I'll be writing about Argentina, Uruguay, Paraguay, Brazil-- well, about the Iguazu Falls part of Brazil I'll be visiting for a couple days-- and in I figure out how to get into Chilean Patagonia, there too. But I figured I'd get some preliminaries over with even before leaving.

I'm flying on American. Needless to say, even with my 100% flexible schedule, there was no possibility of trading advantage miles for a ticket (single person/first class). So I bought a ticket and upgraded. You probably know the way that works: the less expensive tickets are not upgradable so you have to buy a pretty expensive ticket and then you have to spend another $500 for the honor of using your miles. I had never heard of that before but the AA operator assured me it had been standard practice "for years." And there were other little charges. Still, after checking everywhere and wasting lots of time talking to other airlines, it still looked like the best deal.

Did you know there isn't a single English language tourist guide to Paraguay? [UPDATE: I found one after all!] There used to be one that covered Argentina, Uruguay and Paraguay but it's out of print. But what really shocked me is that several guide books on South America don't even mention Paraguay. They have chapters on every other country, even Ecuador and Guyana, but no Paraguay. When I finally located one that did include Paraguay-- in a travel bookstore-- I also found out that I needed a visa in advance. But then luck broke my way. There's a Paraguayan consulate in L.A. and, it turned out, the visa process was as non-onerous as could be. You just fill out some simple papers, hand over 2 photos and some money and off you go. The consul also told me Brazil requires a visa for Americans, who they don't like, and it takes 2 weeks. Panic.

I drove right to the Brazilian consulate. Onerous was the keyword and he was right about them being decidedly anti-American (or at least anti-American tourist). I arrived at 1:15. They stop answering questions at 1. No exceptions. Come back tomorrow. It didn't matter that I was leaving in a week and that they would be closed for Thanksgiving and that I live an hour away. And that I was there. No exceptions. There are only two hotels inside the Iguazu parks, one in Argentina (sold out) and one, a much better one from what I've read, in Brazil. I'm booked in the Brazilian one. What to do, what to do.

I decided to try my luck getting the visa in Buenos Aires. I rented an apartment for my first week in Buenos Aires in the Recoleta district and it's a block from the Brazilian consulate. If I can't get the visa in a week, I'll just cancel Brazil I guess. I mean it's hardly Brazil anyway. It's just the Brazilian side of the Iguazu Falls.

OK, I'm off to finish packing and to eat breakfast and to go for a dawn swim before heading off to the airport, Dallas and Buenos Aires (where I should arrive at 9AM tomorrow morning).


UPDATE: PITSTOP IN TEXAS

I always marvel at the ability of my friend Jane to blog and chew gum at the same time-- and to do it so elegantly. She travels everywhere all the time and blogs up a storm and runs firedoglake, one of the most admired and smoothly-functioning community blogs in the entire world. She keeps trying to get me to do learn to blog on the go. She did teach me html so I guess she could teach me bloggin' on the road too. I suspect I'll screw it up. I mean it's hard to even conceive of blogging without my ergonomic chair and wrist-rest and all my physical backup and research apparatus. And my Macs.

But here I am, in the Admiral's Club in the Dallas-Ft. Worth Airport. It was a nicely uneventful flight, short and uncrowded. And here in the lounge: free computer usage. Ah... at least they give you something for stealing the $500 just to use "your" miles! They just called the flight. I just blogged on the road. Jane will be proud.

ROAMING AND WORKING IN GHANA

This is the second installment's of Adam's first person account of his recent trip to Ghana. Be sure to read the first installment. Here we pick up the tale in mid-June.

I have done a huge amount in the last week and a half. After I emailed last I had one of the craziest/wierdest days I ever had. First I was almost arrested for jay walking and hit by at least 3 tro tros. About an hour later my friend Hugh used a public toilet. Afterwards we are walking along and this guy comes out of no where and grabs Hughs arm yelling "give me money, give me 500 cedis". We thought he was trying to rob us so we started yelling back but he wouldn't let go of Hugh's arm. I pushed the guy off Hugh and told him we weren't going to give him any money (although it may sound a little heroic & I should probably let it stay that way it really was not, we were in a crowded area). The guy kept yelling and I finally thought to ask him why he wanted 500 cedis (5 cents) which sounded like a ridiculous amount of money to ask for, let alone rob someone in the middle of a busy street. It turned out that it cost 500 cedis to use the toilet. We were both a little embarrassed and paid the man.

Thirty minutes had not even passed when we both bumped into a woman carrying her baby on her back with our back packs. The street was packed with people and there was no way to walk without collisions. The lady went absolutely insane screaming at the top of her lungs in an unrecognizable language. Her baby started crying and people started shouting. Needless to say we did not wait and see what would happen, we ran as fast as 2 obrunis with 50 pound packs on could possibly run.

A couple hours later on our way to Ada Foa we got off at the wrong tro stop (we needed to switch tro tros). We started asking around but no one understood us. One woman finally told us where we needed to be and we jumped into a taxi. I thanked her but before I knew it she jumped in the cab and was practically sitting on my lap. If this wasn't bizarre enough she started rubbing my thigh and wouldn't stop smiling at me. When we reached the tro station we thanked her again and told her we were fine by ourselves. She followed us to the tro tro and was expecting us to pay for her ticket to Ada Foa. We refused as it was 150,000 cedis and we had already paid for her cab fare. She started a huge scene in the middle of the station and started yelling and screaming and saying how we were abandoning her. Just to point out she was not homeless and looked better off then most people I have met (cell phone, name brand clothes, etc.). A crowd formed and they were all speaking in local languages so we had no idea what they were saying. It looked like she was lying to everyone and telling them that we ripped her off because we were getting dirty looks from everyone. She then told us that if we didn't pay for her the tro driver wouldn't take us. She finally stopped screaming and asked us if we were married. The tro pulled out and she slapped my arm as we drove off. WTF!

Ada Foa is a remote area on a small peninsula. We had to take an hour canoe ride to get to where we were staying. On one side was the Volta river and the other was the ocean. It was amazing to watch the local villagers fishing and their daily routines. We stayed in little huts made of bamboo. There was no floor to the hut (just sand) and the only thing in it was a bed. The place was absolutely beautiful. The bathroom consisted of a hole in the sand with a wood box on top of the hole and a small bamboo fence around it. At night we built bon fires on the beach. On Sunday I left with 3 girls and we began our trip up North.

I'm not sure if I had mentioned this before but I have really bad mosquito bites on my legs and they became badly infected. They are open wounds and a couple were really deep. On Tuesday night they were so bad that I was limping and could barely move my right foot. My right ankle was so swollen you could not see my bone. I really did not want to go to the hospital here unless it is an emergency after hearing many horror stories. I bought medicine at a pharmacy and by the next day the swelling started going down.

Anyway we reached our destination, MOLE National Park, on Tuesday after about 16 hours of being packed into tro tros. The last 3 hours were the worst. I was sharing a middle seat with no back with another person. There were 6 of us in one row and it was probably the most uncomfortable I have ever been. Half of me was on the seat and the other half was dug into a crack. Anyway we reached Larabanga and from there the only way to MOLE is to hike or bike. We rented the most rikety bicycles I have ever seen. The brakes didn't work, the tires were thin and not meant for tough riding, and the bikes felt like they would fall apart any minute. The ride was only 7 km but much of it was up hill and the sun was intense. The girls had to stop every 10 minutes to drink water and break so it took us forever.

MOLE was absolutely incredible and one of the coolest things I have ever done. The hotel was on top of a hill and at the bottom was a watering hole. From the pool you could watch elephants in the water. While we were eating breakfast a huge Baboon jumped onto the table and knocked over my coffee. Another time a Baboon grabbed this girls bag and pulled out her wallet and a granola bar and started running away. Luckily it dropped the wallet but kept the granola bar. On Wednesday we went on a safari hike with an armed guide. Guests had been injured in the past by stampeding elephants and water buffalo. Also a guide had been killed not to long ago by one of the many venemous snakes. They have Black spitting cobras and vipers. I never thought I would be so close to an elephant, literally 4 or 5 feet.

In the afternoon I followed a bunch of baboons around into the woods and got really close until an aggressive one leaped at me. There were also antelope and those huge pig looking things with the horns (i forgot what they are called). It was amazing to be so close to the animals especially the elephants. Some animals that live in the park that I would have liked to see but didn't were the lion, hyena, and leopards. It was an amazing trip and well worth the long uncomfortable tro ride.

On the way back to my village the tro driver ran over 5 goats crossing the road. It was absolutely crazy; he didn't have any expression or even slow down it was as if it was a daily occurance.

Yesterday I went to Shai Hills and hiked to a bat cave. We actually climbed into the cave and were only a few feet away from hundreds of bats which all started swarming, luckily not in our direction. At one point our guide said he didn't want to scare us but sometimes pythons crawl through where we were standing in the mud.

I am now in Accra for a couple of days. Tomorrow the political correspondant of a local paper will bring me to meet members of Parliament and said I can sit in on the Parliament session. Im having an incredible time and have mixed feelings about coming home.

Adam returned to his family's home the last week in June, after 6 weeks in Ghana. He wrote one more e-mail about the trip from suburban New Jersey (where toilets are toilets and there are no pythons.

It is really wierd being back and I miss Ghana. During my last week in Ghana I stayed in the capital, Accra for a couple of days in hopes of interviewing MP's. I had been assured that the interviews were set up for Monday morning. When I met the Political Correspondent that morning she informed me that we would go the next morning at 8:30 AM. I stayed in Accra that night and watched the Ghana vs. Italy World Cup Match. Although Ghana lost I felt that they played a good game considering it was their first World Cup match and was against Italy who is one of the best in the World.

The next morning I waited an hour and a half for the Political Correspondent to arrive. The plans were to interview members before the session started at 10:00 AM. Due to her extreme tardiness that idea was killed. I sat in on the Parliament session which was really interesting. Unfortunately afterwards all of the MP's had a full schedule and did not have time to meet. I did however have the opportunity to meet a Parliament Attorney who drafts legislation.

The next few days I spent painting a health clinic, playing frisbee and soccer with the kids, and hanging out with the volunteers. Friday night my friends flight was delayed 5 hours and this girl Tes and I agreed to go to the airport with him to wait. At the airport there was confusion regarding what time the plane would take off, so at around 1 AM he went through security and left us outside. We had planned to spend the night sleeping in front of the airport because it was too dangerous to walk or take a taxi anywhere that late. Luckily Tes starts a conversation with an Obruni in a business truck and swears that he is harmless. We ask him to take us to any cheap hotel in the area and he looks at us like we have 5 heads.

It turns out that he has lived in GHana for the last 5 years but in a luxury western lifestyle. He had no clue about cheap hotels and admitted he had never even taken a tro tro. He allowed us to stay at his loft for the night. As we drive up to his house I could have sworn we had crossed into another country. We entered a gated community, guarded by security, filled with mansions. I had no idea there were houses like this in Ghana. His company develops these communities for the
richest of the rich and he told us that many Ministers and MP's bought homes in the community. His house had electricity, a microwave, stove, oven, fridge, shower, televisions-- it was out of this world, - completely unheard of. Anyway it was kind of cool to see the rich side of Ghana. Poverty to riches and not much in between. His satelite television service is double the amount that most workers make a month.

I left on Sunday and it was upsetting to say goodbye. The kids begged me to take them with me but promised to write. I bought them notebooks, pens, and crayons and they were really excited. I also left many of my things I didn't need and would have thrown them out had the kids not wanted them. They even took my tooth brush and toothpaste. In the village most people use these sticks to clean their teeth. I gave my cell phone to Kwasi who was the forman for the building. The phone cost more money then he makes in a month and he can either keep it or sell it. Sunday before I left I sat in on the Church service and the Reverend dedicated almost the entire service to me. It was a really nice thing for him to do and I will never forget him, the kids, and all of the friends I have made. This was an AMAZING experience and I could not have asked for anything more. I would like to continue to help sponsor school scholarships to children in Kwamoso and any donations you are able to contribute would be greatly appreciated. The amount of money that it takes to fund a child's education is so minute to our standards that even $5 would be an extremely helpful gesture. (If you have a PayPal account and want to send $5 or $20 or... well, any amount, the e-mail address for Adam is ad501445@pegasus.cc.ucf.edu/) He has loaded his pictures online and if you would like please have a look.

TOTAL IMMERSION-- SIX WEEKS IN GHANA

Robert and Robin Axel are two pals from my college days. They're married and have two sons, both in college now. I think the first time I was ever traveled outside of the U.S. was when Robert and I hitchhiked to Mexico during the summer of 1967. That's a whole other story-- for another time-- and today I want to introduce you to Adam, their older son. He's a senior at University of Central Florida, a political science major with a good head on his shoulders. Like his parents, he's an enlightened liberal and, in his own words, "a strong advocate for the tight Elite grip on the U.S. as well as the World to be removed. Power should truly be in the hands of the people and not in an elite minority." What started out as a summer vacation and wild adventure, turned into Adam immersing himself in the society and culture of a country few college students could ever even find on a map. Adam got back a couple days ago. I don't know anyone else who has ever been to Ghana and Adam wrote some notes while he was there and is allowing me to publish them. It's not about the best hotels and restaurants and tourist attractions.

I am in a small village called Kwamoso in the Akuapem Hills Region. The village is extremely rural with no electricity or running water. Compared to middle class America these people are dirt poor but they are Ghana's middle class. They live in houses literally made out of mud with tin roofs. In many the mud walls are coated with a layer of cement but not all. The poor live in houses with straw roofs and the mud walls look like they are crumbling. The people are really nice and friendly. The family I am staying with always has my meals (breakfast, lunch, & dinner) ready for me & won't even let me help clean up.

Two girls from Britain are staying at the same house as I am although I haven't met one yet because she has been traveling. In the area there are about 10 other volunteers and we all meet up at night. This weekend they are all traveling to a beach a few hours away but I have an appointment to meet the Tribal Chief of Kwamoso on Saturday so unfortunately I cannot go. I am glad that there are other volunteers because it is hard to have a conversation with the locals in my village because the ones that do speak English don't speak it particularly well.

There is a school across from the house I am staying in so there are always tons of kids running around. They stare and point at me and call me "obruni" (white man). Many are amazed and run up to touch me to see if I am real. None of the locals speak English unless they are talking to a volunteer. They speak their local language so I never know what is going on. Although most people are really nice they constantly talk about me because I will hear "American" or "obruni" throughout conversations. It is really annoying at times but I should get used to it. The other volunteers say the same thing happens to them all the time.

During the week I get woken up around 6am for breakfast although I am awake much earlier from the roosters and sheep. The family I am staying with wakes up around 4am. I then go to work between 7 and 8 am and make mud bricks and help with the construction of the homes. Habitat for Humanity runs the program. It is hard and messy work and you get covered in mud. The sun here is incredibly hot and if you don't wear sunscreen you can be sunburn in 10 minutes.

I work until around 11am or 12pm because that is when they usually stop for the day because of the extreme heat. On my first day at work the other workers did not understand why I was wearing shoes. One who spoke a little English said that if he had shoes he would never dirty them and wear them   for work. Most people do not have shoes. Earlier today I saw about 20 kids at another school playing soccer bare foot. I find it really sad.

People spend the day outdoors because it is even hotter inside the houses. They cook over fires and wash their clothes by hand in basins. There is an outhouse and a small room with a bucket which is my shower for the next 6 weeks. The outhouse is really disgusting and I was told at night before going to the bathroom to shine the flashlight down the hole to scare the cockroaches as they tend to climb up the top at night. The bugs are really crazy looking and big. I saw a millipede the size of the lizards in Florida and saw a lizard here that was yellow, red, and green. The village has chickens, goats, sheep, turkey (I think it was a turkey), pigs, and cats running around all over the place. The food is really good and the fruit is so fresh. The area I am in is real beautiful and is in the hills and is covered in green.

I am using the Internet at a town that took me about 35 minutes to get to. I had to take a tro tro (small packed van) and 2 line taxis to get here and it cost a little less than a dollar for the whole trip. American money is worth so much here and everything is really cheap. You can get a hotel room for less than $5 US.

Everything is so different here and it makes me feel so lazy. The women carry everything on their heads and I've seen some carrying loads of wood and huge things on their heads. I have no clue how they do that. The strangest thing that happened to me so far was when the man whose house I was staying at was showing me around the property; he went and walked around holding my hand. The people are so friendly that you will see a lot of grown men going around holding each others hands just as friends.

I have to be very careful with what I eat and about getting bitten by mosquitoes. About 2 weeks ago one of the volunteers had malaria and another had typhoid. They are better now and still here. Malaria is no big thing here as so many people get it. They basically give you a shot and you're better in 3 days.

Somehow cell phones work in the village I am in. Although they don't even have electricity I have better cell phone service than I do in Roosevelt (N.J.); I don't get it. I bought a prepaid cell and can receive cell phone calls. Whenever I need to charge my phone I take a tro tro to this guy's house who works for the organization I am volunteering with because he has electricity. I use the cell to keep in touch with the other volunteers. It is really cheap to make local calls and costs practically
nothing.

(Part 2)

I am in Cape Coast for the weekend which is a little over 4 hours from the village I am living in. All of the other volunteers had already traveled to Cape Coast so I decided to go alone. I arrived here yesterday and am feeling a little guilty because I am staying at a hotel that has electricity and a shower with hot water. Today I toured the Cape Coast Castle and the Elmina Castle which were both used during the slave trade. Tomorrow I will visit Kakum National Forrest which is a rain forest that has a canopy walk (rope and wood ladder that you walk across at the top of the trees).

This area is nice although in the center of the city everyone has a hustle for the white man and it gets a little old after a few hours of it. When I stepped out of the taxi at the first castle about 5 people surrounded me asking me for money for their soccer team and to sign a piece of paper pledging my support. I was told beforehand they do this so when you are done with the castle they will say that you had signed pledging money and harass you until you pay. I refused to sign anything but one person asked me for my name and I was surprised to see him writing it down with a marker on his hand. I didn't think much of it until 2 hours later when I am coming out of the castle and there he is running up to me with this big sea shell which read: To my American Friend, Brother Adams Axel, Have a nice time at Elmina Castle. I was impressed by his effort and handed him 30,000 cedis ($3) but he was not happy and wanted more. I got in the taxi as about another 10 people had gathered all asking me for my shirt, shoes, backpack, necklace, etc.. some even started yelling at me.

Anyway everything is going well. I have interviewed 5 people so far for my research (2 tribal Chiefs, 2 exec branch officials, and 1 local). The interviews with the tribal chiefs are pretty intense. First I have to pay them with either money or wine for their time and then do all of these interesting rituals with them. The first Chief I interviewed made me take huge shots of this strong gin or whiskey and then made me pour glasses for his entourage.

I have adapted pretty well to my living conditions and it has become a normal thing to take bucket showers with lizards in the dark. The one thing I have not completely gotten used to, and don't think I will in the next 4 weeks, is the bathroom. The other night there were at least 20 huge cockroaches all over the room climbing out of the toilet. I didn't need to use it but the other volunteer did and had to spend 20 minutes trying to brush them away in the dark.

I am finally being called Adam now instead of Obruni from a bunch of the children I spend the most time with. Everyone loves my camera and when people see it they run over to be in a picture and when I'm taking pictures there are always kids trying to jump into it. I gave the family I am staying with a photo album of pictures from America and they love looking at it and are really interested in the country. Everyone thought (his family's) two little dogs (Baby and Onyx) were monkeys.

I am always asked to bring people back to America with me. They will say something like "please sir bring me to your country". Today my taxi driver was trying to get me to marry one of his sister's friends and bring her back with me. A few people asked me if there are black people in America and almost everyone has the perception that everyone in America is rich and are shocked when I tell them this is not the case. I have only met 2 people who like Bush and everyone else hates the bastard. I have no clue what is going on in America except that someone in Florida was eaten by an alligator and "somewhere in Florida the votes are still being counted"... lol. I think there are newspapers with International coverage but I have not been that interested to find them. I am guessing the usual is taking place: people are dying in Iraq, people are still dying in New Orleans, Big Brother has your phone tapped, Cheney's friends are buying new mansions and islands with blood money, and Bush is at the ranch sitting on his thumb. If this is not the case please correct me but I am pretty confident in my assumption.

(Part 3)

Having a great time. I am in Accra with the other volunteers. Every month there is a party for all of the volunteers all over Ghana and last night it was here. My interviews are going well and I have done 10 so far. Hopefully next week I will meet with a couple of members of parliament. A few days ago I traveled to Boti Falls with a friend and we saw 2 water falls and hiked to a cave and the Umbrella Rock which is a huge rock in the shape of an umbrella. I climbed this rickety ladder to the top of the rock and the view was amazing. It had a similar feeling from when I was at the Grand Canyon. From up there it was like "wow I'm really in Africa," looking over the forest and mountains.

Construction work is also going well and I am enjoying it. From Monday, June 5th to June 9th I will be traveling to the North with a few friends. Our main objective is to get to Mole National Park and spend at least one night there. Right outside the hotel are watering holes and elephants, baboons, and other animals get really close to you. We have a few other stops along the way and I think one includes a huge Mosque made out of sticks.

I have become really close with a few of the kids in the village as well as with a few of the local school teachers. They have given us all nicknames and mine is acoodapanu (not sure of the spelling). They say it means "man sitting under tree drinking palm wine." One of the teachers is really funny. He thinks because I live in America I know 50 Cent and wants me to introduce them.

My friend Hugh and I each put in around $25 and are sponsoring this little girl Efia to go to school. She was adopted 2 months ago and the woman who adopted her barely has enough money to feed her, let alone send her to school. There really is no point in sending kids to the public schools here because they are so bad and the kids learn nothing. The $50 covers half the year and she will start school this Monday. Her new mother and her came up to us and would not stop thanking us. They were so happy it was a great feeling. The last couple of days I have been teaching her a little English. When I get home I will try and organize something to put money together to take care of the rest of the school year as well as sponsoring this kid Isaac who currently attends the public school. He also doesn't have the money to go to the private school and he is so bright he deserves the chance at an education. It is really sad how some of the kids live including Isaac. He, along with 3 other boys, live in this really small empty room with only 2 small pieces of this thin foam to sleep on. Despite the living conditions they are always happy and it is really inspiring.

Luckily I have not gotten sick yet and I hope I don't. The guy who had malaria had a relapse and was back in the hospital for 4 days and on oxygen for a day or so. I have been being really careful. One of the volunteers is leaving this weekend so I think we are all going swimming today at a pool and will probably then head back to the hills afterwards. Tomorrow I am planning on renting mountain bikes and going on a 3 hour trail which I've heard is beautiful. My friend had emailed me last week and informed me that Bush's' approval rating is now down to 29%. Any news like this I highly encourage to be sent to me ASAP.

The other night I was at a bar with a few friends and this guy walks in blurting out all sorts of crazy things. We didn't know if he was drunk or crazy or both. But anyway, it amuses me to have strange conversations with random people once in a while so we begin talking. He tells me that he is the "INFO MAN" and he can share as many "tid bits" of information as I would like. He is stumbling all over and keeps yelling how he is the "Info Man and it is "his pleasure" to speak with me. He buys me a beer and then tells me that he is the Information Minister and although I doubt it, it is somewhat believable because his English is really good. When he tells me this I immediately think of my research and attempt to grill him with questions just in case he is who he says he is. He is way too drunk to obtain any valuable information from-- except that he is the "Info Man" and he loves sharing tid bits of information with me and that he is in control of the information. It was hilarious and the other volunteers could not stop laughing. When he finally stumbled out of the bar he left us with these wise words "make sure to sleep with your ears outside." The owner of the bar informs us after he leaves that he really is the Minister of Information and he normally is very quiet and had just come back from a party. It is really ironic that I bump into this high government official which would have been great for my research but he was too wasted to say anything worthwhile.

(Part 4)

I am on my way to Adu Foah (a beach about 4 hours from Accra) and I stopped at an Internet cafe in Accra before catching a tro tro to the beach. I have been having a great time and have had some interesting experiences since the last time I wrote. Two friends and I rented mountain bikes a few days ago. By mistake we were given an advanced trail instead of the beginners trail which we had requested. We did not realize this until we were flying down steep cliffs, dodging huge holes, and pedaling through sand and tiny paths through corn fields. In summation it was INSANE and probably somewhat dangerous. Much of it felt like complete torture especially the never ending vertical inclines-- although the scenery was amazing and now that it is over I can say I am glad to have experienced it.

The little girl started school on Monday and seems to love it as she is always smiling. I taught a couple days this week and it was definitely an experience. I taught stage 1, 2, and 3 English and math. It is completely frustrating but somewhat rewarding when a student actually understands what you have just spent 2 hours teaching.

The other night I told ghost stories to the kids and think I scared the crap out of them. I had to keep telling them afterwards that it was just a story and there is no axe murderer wandering the village slaughtering goats and killing little boys at 3 am every night. That probably wasn't such a great idea. We took them into town yesterday for minerals (soda) which is thrilling for them because they never leave the village and their families don't have the money to buy minerals... as well as the fact that there is no electricity to keep anything cold in the village.

One of my house mates, Izzy had a couple of terrifying experiences that I think are worth sharing. She was in the loo (damn Brits call the bathroom the loo) and in the middle of her business a cockroach violated her. Without getting too graphic, the cockroach climbed up the toilet while she was on it and crawled around her private area. Another night she was in the loo a snake with a white head popped its head under the door but luckily did not crawl all the way in. The next day she asked about the snake and everyone kept saying "there are no snakes, no snakes, no snakes." I think it is considered a bad omen to talk about snakes. But anyway she finally found a few people who told her there are poisonous snakes with white heads. They claim that the first bite paralyzes you and then the snake eats you. I don't know how believable this story is but I don't really want to meet this man-eating snake to find out.

Two other volunteers have malaria but, on the bright side, the guy who was hospitalized is now better and feeling good. I had made an appointment to interview an assembly member and was told to meet him the next morning. The Reverend I am staying with told me he would wake me up in the morning. I am thinking 6, 7, maybe 8 am. At 3:50 AM! he is at my door "Adams get ready to leave." I couldn't believe it; I thought it was a bad joke. So at half past 4 AM! I am catching a tro tro in the dark to go ten minutes down the street. Anyway the interview went well except for one awkward moment when I was asked to buy him a motor scooter. I have done 13 interviews so far-- 2 local gov, 2 exec branch, 2 chiefs, 6 citizens, and 1 farm owner. I have made arrangements to meet a big shot business man at his mansion when I get back from traveling and have finally got in contact with a Parliament Rep who is hopefully setting up meetings with 2 parliament members as well. I then need a few citizens from the city and I think I will be good to go. I met a police chief last night and took his contact info but am not sure if I will interview him or not. I don't know how well he will receive questions on corruption when the police are the most corrupt of all.

On Sunday I will be leaving the beach with 3 volunteers and heading off for Northern Ghana and will be traveling until next Friday. The village I am living in is starting to feel like home and I will def miss it. If Cheney has a heart attack or Bush develops malaria email me at once.

(To be continued)


UPDATE 2009: Less Than Total Immersion

Today's NY Times recommends Ghana as the place to experience the joyous African experience-- although maybe not Accra. They recommend Cape Coast, although the primary Cape Coast experience doesn't sound exactly joyful... unless you're Jesse Helms or Jim DeMint.

As I left the market behind, the traffic and crowds died off, and the closer I came to the castle, the more somber the mood felt. Ahead of me, visitors clustered close together and slowed their steps almost to a shuffle. Even the young men who had gathered at the castle gate to solicit donations for fictitious youth soccer teams spoke in hushed tones. I realized that I had just walked the same path through town that the captives took, force-marched and traded to the British for guns, liquor and other goods, and then funneled into ships.

After his visit to Cape Coast Castle last month, President Obama said that he was reminded of the Buchenwald concentration camp. It’s an analogy many have made; I have been to Auschwitz and Buchenwald, and I, too, felt the similarity. As I walked through the arched gate into the long corridor leading to the castle courtyard, I was confronting the physical evidence of tangible evil.

The castle, an imposing stone fortress of ramps, stairs, parapets and holding pens, is a Unesco World Heritage Site and draws not only a steady stream of tour groups but also many visitors, including large numbers of African-Americans, traveling on their own. The castle boggles the mind with the businesslike efficiency of its neatly laid out spaces: the dark caverns of the men’s and women’s dungeons located deep within; the bright, airy residence halls on the upper floors for the administrators and paid workers; the high ramparts lined with enough cannons to repel an armada. Kidnapped Africans were held for months at a time in the most hellish conditions. Many died in dungeons so crowded that they could not lie down.

Those who survived left through the Door of No Return-- a small wooden door built into a stone archway that led to waiting ships. I paused there, overcome by emotion. It was difficult, almost terrifying, to step through this door despite the fact that no slave has been forced through it for two centuries.

CAPPADOCIA-- BEST HOTEL, BEST RESTAURANT AND BEST SITES IN ALL OF TURKEY

Last week my friend Dave wrote a guest blog while he was staying at the Riyad el Cadi in Marrakesh, where Roland and I stayed last December. I was so happy that the proprietors made them feel welcome and treated them extra nice when they used my name. Whenever I find a really great place-- especially one a bit off-the-beaten track-- I love to recommend it to my friends. Then I'm always a little anxious about how they'll find it. (I mean you never want to be responsible for sending someone someplace that they hate, like when I told Ken and Tony about Bangkok and they called whining about what a dump the Oriental Hotel was.

The place I probably recommend the most-- and hopefully we'll soon see a guest blog from my pal Tim from there-- is the Esbelli in Cappadocia. I started traveling to Turkey in 1969 when I was driving to India. I was struck by the natural and manmade beauty of the country and by the friendliness and culture of the people. I lingered longer than I planned-- especially once I had figured out that Istanbul's Blue Mosque District was no more representative of Turkey than Times Square is representative of the U.S. And I keep going back. A real crossroads, Turkey is easy to tack on to other trips-- like to Greece, Italy, Egypt, Israel, Spain, anywhere in Eastern Europe... And I've been to just about every nook and cranny-- from the Black Sea Coast to Anatlya to the Aegean to Lake Van and all through the central Anatolian highlands. Cappadocia is relatively new for me. What a mistake I almost made! "Too touristy," I used to think. (I almost missed the Taj Mahal with the same stupid thoughts.)

In September 2004 we had spent some time in good old Istanbul-- one of my favorite cities in the world-- and I'll write about that another time. It's an hour flight from Istanbul to Kayseri. It was painless enough and cost around $75. Suha, the proprietor of Esbelli Evi had arranged for a pick-up at the airport for the 30 mile drive to Urgup. Urgup is an uninteresting town incredibly well-located in the midst of one of the most fascinating places on earth. And the hotel, just a short walk north of town is amazing. And hard to think of as a hotel. It's Suha and his mother's home, a conglomeration of homes carved into the soft tufa stone. It's partially above ground with terraces and stunning views and partially kind of cave-like. There are 10 guest rooms and some cozy, charming common rooms (with a computer or two and a library's worth of books) beautifully decorated with hardwood floors, local textiles. The best part is Suha's genuine old world hospitality; you feel like you're a guest in someone's very comfortable, very welcoming home. People get there and don't want to leave. He gave Roland and I an amazing and very large 2 bedroom suite and I think it was less than $100 a night and included a sumptuous breakfast. (A comparison: in Istanbul we stayed at the 4 Seasons, which had just been voted the Best Hotel in Europe. We loved it; but we loved the Esbelli more.)

There aren't any special restaurants in Urgup but Suha turned us on to an old Greek farm in Mustafapasha (fka Sinassos), about 20 minutes south of Urgup, called, appropriately enough, the Old Greek House. It's a large family home with lots of rooms for guest to eat in. Let me just say that in the dozen times I've been to Turkey-- a country whose cuisine I absolutely love-- the Old Greek House served the best food I ever ate in the country. And we ate there almost every day. It is so off the beaten path that God only knows how anyone finds it. We drove around looking for quite a while before we found it down a dirt road. Suha had called ahead and ordered our food each time we ate there. Everything is prepared specially for the guests. This is beyond homemade and if you eat everything on your plate, they instantly fill the plate up again. We had course after course of the most delicious fresh food and I don't think it ever cost us $10 (for both of us!)

OK, so I told you about the most incredible hotel and the most wonderful restaurant, both pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Why would anyone go to Cappodocia? The 2 main reasons: history and geography and the way they interacted. You can feel you're in the Bible one minute and in a fairy land that beats anything Hollywood has ever created the next. People flip out the first time they see Cappadocia's "fairy chimneys," which are caps of hard rock on a cone-shaped shaft of the softer tufa stone. It looks like something you'd expect at Disneyland.

In every direction from Urgup we found unique and fascinating things to see-- from underground cities, several stories deep, where people sought safety from the aggressive Hittites, to ancient churches the earliest Christians built into the sides of steep, inaccessible mountains. No matter how long you stay, there's never enough time. We rented a car, which made it a lot easier-- and made complete sense since we planned to drive south from Cappadocia to the Mediterranean Coast. It isn't easy to pick a few sites to see because everything is so unique and special. I totally recommend the ancient long-abandoned monasteries built into the sides of the Zelve Valley, the tiny churches built into what is now called the Goreme Open Air Museum, and either the Kaymakli or Derinkuyu underground cities. We would drive to our destination early every morning and then hike all day. I love all parts of Turkey but if you can only visit one place outside of Istanbul, it should probably be Cappadocia.