Friday, August 31, 2007

"Stuff me I'm Turkish"

Several years back while wandering amidst the aisles of some flea market up in San Jose I came across a stall selling, among other things, those goofy little buttons that you see waiters at TGIF's wearıng. And there it was.. right next to the "Kiss me I'm Irish" and "World's Greatest Lover" buttons was one I had never seen before, "Stuff me I'm Turkish" it said. Obviously playing off the well known connection between Thanksgiving, Turkeys and Turkmen. It was bizzare and kinda funny and had I actually known any Turks at the time and had it had been near Thanksgiving I might have bought the button as a holiday gag. As it was I didn't and it wasn't so I moved on and completely forgot about the button....What does this have to do with our travels? Absolutely nothing..except that we are actually in Turkey right now, it's just turned September, and that even though we are surrounded by Turkmen I haven't seen any of these buttons. Life is funny sometimes.

Anyway we glid (glode? glided?) into Turkey a couple of weeks back on a delapidated greek hydrofoil called the Flying Dophin. Imagine the old Flash Gorden rocket ship style..that's what this thing looked like, a big areodynamic tube with stubby wings and skids underneath. After a relatively quick ride from Rhodes we landed in the harbor and after being stuck on the dock (litteraly on a dock..as in a wooden pier about 10 foot wide with water and boats either side of us, strangest customs area yet) for a couple of hours while the immigration guys took off with our passports in a truck, we finally made it into Fethiye. It was a nice beach town and we stayed at a pensione where we ended up meeting a nice Aussie family traveling with their two kids. While in Fethiye we took a day cruise out along the coast for some sun and snorkeling and they joined us. We chatted them up all day and took turns swimming and diving off the boat with the kids. Jason (the dad) and I, feeling somewhat adventurous, took turns swimming under this submerged arch. This was somewhat of a challenge actually as the bottom of the arch was a good 12-15 feet under the surface and because of the high salt content of this part of the Med you had to struggle and kick hard against your own bouyancy to get down and through this thing..once through though you would roll over so that you were facing up and then just float silently up wıth your face inches from this massive underwater rock wall. Fabulous.

After a couple of days in Fethiye we said our goodbyes and headed east towards the old hippie town of Olympos. With about an hour left in the bus ride to Olympos the 8 year girl in the seat in front of us who had been flirting with us for the first half of the ride suddenly spun around and lurched at me (I was in the aisle seat..sitting next to the trashcan). From the green in her face I knew what was up and tried to get out of the way but *blech* she vomitted all over the floor, my seat and on my favorite pants. Immediately her father started to try to wipe my seat and pant leg down while his daughter was falling across other seats continuing to be sick..I had to yell at him that I was fine and to leave me alone and tend to his daughter instead..which he did. The commotion ended after a couple of minutes and they seemed really embareassed. They quickly got off at the next stop. I felt bad.

Olympos is kind of a funny town. Once a hippie paradise known for its quirky tree hut camps it has since become part of the 'back packer route' and has hence become over commercialized and crowded wıth Aussies. Despite this we decided to stay in one of the many tree camps there for a couple of days..although we opted for a bungalo since they were the same price and came with AC and a bug free bed..sort of. To be fair though these 'tree houses' were more like crappy wooden rooms built on 4 foot stilts neatly stacked in rows in a cultivated orange orchard..hardly a Swiss Family Robinson style tree house. Aside from the 'tree huts' and Turks who spoke broken english with Australian accents, Olympos actually had a lot to offer in terms of to-do's. There were 1000 year old ruins which you could 'discover' by hiking back into the woods Indiana Jones style. There was the beach. And then there was the Chimera, a barren hillside where gas naturally leaks out of the rocks in various fissures and vents. Apparently at some undetermined point in the past this thing caught fıre and has been burning ever since..like a natural eternal flame. Ancient greek mariners apparently used this hillside as a natural lighthouse..neat. Spent a couple of days here hiking and swimming and then we noticed it..there are no seashells on the beaches or under the water in Turkey..at least five different days swimming at five different beaches and not a single shell..no one else seemed bothered by this so we didn't worry either..but still..it was a bit weird.

I should digress here and mention that unlike the barren craggy shores of Greece, the coastal terrain of Turkey was strikingly mountainous and wooded. It reminded us of Lake Tahoe or Big Bear Lake a bit...there where these steepish rocky hills loosely covered in grasses, shrubs, pines and oaks that came tumbling abruptly into the aquamarine waters of the eastern Med mixing at the shore in a slurry of gravel and mud. Of all places we've visited so far, Turkey, strangely enough reminded us most of home. So, after a couple of days in Olympos we decided that our 'beachin' days were over and we headed inland towards Capadocia (Kapadokya). On the way we stopped at a town called Konya where the order of the Whirling Dervishes was founded by the Sufi poet Rumi several centuries back (the Dervishes are wandering Sufi monks akin to the Catholic Franciscan order). Konya, which we were going to stay at only to break up the travel between the coast and Kapa turned out to be suprisingly cool. It had some really great mosques from the Seljuk Turks (Seljuk = Alladin, Ali Baba, Sultans, turbans, exotic camel caravans, flying rugs, bejeweled oil lamps, etc.) It also had the Mevlana mosque turned museum that housed the turban topped coffins of many of the great dervish ascetics, including Rumi himself, several ornately gilded korans and other dated texts and a ornamented box purported to contain Muhammed's beard (this is probably true..in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there were several boxes with his beard since, afterall, beards grow back.) A quick aside about traveling Muslim countries.

If you've ever been to an Islamic country you know that they broadcast the call to prayer on the loud speakers 5 times a day, including one at about 4am. Starting with the line 'Allah u Akbar' (God is great) the call is usually sung in melismatic style and can sometimes take several minutes. Depending on the caller/singer these calls can actually be quite beautiful and evocative. Anyway, Konya is a particularly devout town and is covered with mosques..our hotel was within 4 blocks of no less than 6 mosques and every morning at 4am a cacophany of calls would flood in through our window and wake us..it sounded as a chorus of callers were standing at the foot of our bed singing to us..only later after doing some research did we discover that one of the lines of this particular morning call was 'Prayer is better than sleep'.

After another 6 hours on the bus we finally arrived at Kapadokya. If you haven't been then go. The best way to describe Kapadokya is as a mix of Joshua Tree, the Pinnacles and the rock formations in Arizona's Painted Desert. Very cool place. Kapadokya was apparently formed by a near-by volcano that after dropping several tens of meters of ash then dropped a nice hard layer of basalt. Over time most of the area was eroded but in a few places where the basalt was thicker it formed a protective cap over the ash while everything else eroded around it..the net effect was the creation of these bizzare pillars and columns of rock stretching up out of the valley floor. The locals call these fairy chimneys..which is a weird name because what they really look like is giant penises sticking up out of the ground..I guess calling them penis chimneys wouldn't go over so well with the locals.. As it turns out the ash rock is relatively easy to carve into when wet (but dries to a hard surface) and so 1000 years ago early christians in the area seeking to avoid persecution from the Arabs and Ottomans dug extensive cave houses into these rocks..complete churches even, with frescos and pillars. But they didn't stop here, they dug down too..creating massive underground cities 8 levels deep (think ant farm). It gets better, because of the ash the soil is really fertile and centuries of fruit cultivation has caused the entire area to become covered in fruit and grape trees. Here's a list of what we found: apples, pears, grapes, plums, oranges, watermelons, berries, appricots and a couple of other fruits/nuts that didn't seem ripe. Put it all together and you get an edenic, Dr. Seussian version of the 'Flinstones' meets 'Land of the Lost'. Tres cool. We spent 6 wonderful days here. Our days spent hiking amongst the 1000 year cave houses and eating wild fruit 'till we were full, our evenings spent reading our books and relaxing in our cave room while listening to the mosque calls echo through the valley. Met a couple of cool aussies as well, they were on an overland back to Oz..they were heading down through Syria, Iran and into India..I was jealous.

Then it hit, just in time for us to leave on our 12 hour bus ride to Istanbul. The runs. Helen got it first..then me. A day later one of the Oz girls landed something similar only out the top side..and then the Canadian girl caught it.

Loading ourselves up on meds and skipping dinner we made the 12 hr journey to Istanbul. Man what an uncomfortable ride..Helen managed but I didn't sleep a wink. Another child vomited on this bus ride as well. We arrived in Istanbul at 9am three days ago.

Quick note on buses in Turkey..they come in two flavors..the long distance city buses and inter-city domuses (mini buses). The long distance buses are what Turkey has in lieu of cheap domestic air service. They run the buses like planes too with stewards serving drinks and little chocolate cakes and occasionally coming by to offer some orange smelling hand cleaner. The dolmuses are a lot cooler and is an idea that would probably work well in US cities. Basically its a gutted minvan with several rows of bench seats..the fare is the same regardless of how far you go on the bus and they will pick you and drop you off up where ever on their route (i.e. no bus stops) in fact half the time they leave the sliding side door open as people hop on and off. And because they are privately owned like taxis each dolmus is different. Some are boring. Some play loud turkish music. Some are decked out like pimp mobiles with curtains in the windows, colored party lights, fuzzy dice and leapord print steering wheel covers.

Anyway, back to Istanbul where we currently are. It's a great town but it's expensive and quite westernized. Saw the Hagia Sophia, the Grand Bizzare, the Blue Mosque, the Cisterns and Taksim area..and now we're done. Outside of these attractions Istanbul seems more interesting historically than in life. Our hotel had a channel that was playing last season's episodes of american television: Smallville, My Name is Earl, Battlestar Galactica, Prison Break, Ren and Stimpy, etc. One night of this was enough to trigger something in Helen and I... so the next day we ate lunch at McDonalds, had an afternoon coffee at Starbucks, watched the most recent Harry Potter movie and finished it up with a dinner at El Torrito. No joke...all of this in Istanbul..it was brilliant. We feel refreshed now and are ready to move on. Tonight we board another bus to go to Plovdiv Bulgaria..only 7 hours this time..not so bad.
pics to follow.

Helen gone native

more Fairy Chimneys..note the dwellings

more Fairy Chimneys..note the dwellings

more Fairy Chimneys..note the dwellings

Kapadokya valley


someone

Mevlana Mosques in Konya

Istanbul street scene

chickens in Goreme

Goremestreet scene

Ccave Monestary in Goreme

the Hagia Sophia

cavern of lights in the Hagia Sophia Cistern


belly dancer from Turksih night in Goreme

the blue mosque in Istanbul

the chimera

dervish kids

fairy chimneys


















Monday, August 13, 2007

sunny side up

so the last post was a bit dry perhaps..here are some other various tales, musings, ramblings and other "whatever-isms" that you might enjoy.. or not:

Mustafa, our driver in Morocco has the same first name as a good friend of ours back home..

camels poo as they walk..they poo in little bite sized clumps..and, to the delight of everyone in back, it always seems to be the camel in the front of the camel train that poos the most ..Helen and I took turns in front..we had the pooiest camels..of course..

the stars in the desert are unlike stars you see anywhere else..they are bright, clear and most importantly, they are innumerable..the cosmos is structured, it is bigger than you or I could ever possibly imagine..you can see the lateral wing of our home, the milky way...and it is big and deep..and it is a terrible waste of space if we are in fact alone..god is great..and so are the alien civilizations that rules the unfathomable depths of the abyss..

morocco suffers terribly from pollution and desertification..it's unfortunate..the country it seems, in its attempts to sip from the cup of western wealth, seems to be turning itself into a dried up canker sore..

despite this, and despite bush and despite terrorism...Muslims and the Arab world have a valid claim to culture and insight, they are not savages..it was the Arabs who invented zero..it was the Arabs who, when the catholic church was flexing its stranglehold on Europe, kept the arts and sciences of the ancient alive, only later to be consumed by the crusades and subsequent renaissance masters at Oxford and Florence.. it is unfortunate however that Islam sanctions violence in the name of god..this is a drawback to their case

Politics seems to be alive and well in Europe (they apparently hate NATO and the US)..which is good given the complete and utter lack of a US political interest..although I did see that Rove resigned recently which is good..now we just have to repair the damage...not that anyone really cares..

Greece is a funny place..it is simultaneously western and yet still sort of second-worldy (please forgive the imperialist tone here).. the younger generation of Greeks seem quite westernized..familiarized with all the accouterments of western lifestyle and excess..but the older Greeks are a different story..they seem pushy..almost selfish..but not a selfishness that is born out of greed..but a selfishness that is born out of decades of struggle and survival..they push and they crowd the lines at the bus stations..they push us from behind causing us to stumble with our heavy packs..they push and they crowd at the restaurants as if the restaurant is going to run out of food and they will be sent home (again) hungry..its weird the divide that separates these kids from their grandparents...the parents of course..those of the same generation as my parents seem (as my parents have) to have been able able to capitalize on the position of the country as a tourist trap and have all opened up domatia's or restaurants or other tourist shops..

some however still fish for a living: walking in the streets the waiters and hosts of various restaurants and cafes call and beckon you in for food or drink "hello my friend..please come sit down"...a lot of times this bait seems to work and catch customers... the guy who runs our hostel (Peter) drives down to the harbor every night the ferry comes to catch backpackers as they get of the boat..again, his nets of cheap dorm beds seem to bring in a healthy catch of 15 people a night...they are fisherman.

ironically, real fresh fish are xtremely hard to come by in greece..most seafood is fozen and expensive.

what else?

oh yeah, beaches in Europe are topless and men wear bikini briefs to the beach..this environment is of course a mixed blessing..in ways..also back hair apparently is not seen in any disdainful manner here...as long as you are tanned and fit..

in Greece you are not supposed to flush the used toilet paper down the toilet..instead you are to place it in the foot-peddled trash can conveniently located next to the john..a custom that Helen has readily adopted but that I am still having a hard time adjusting to..

Greek buses are cramped and often there is standing room only..add humidity and 90 degree heat and you have a party in your armpits.. so says I..

like the Moroccan tagine, there is the food at the Greek taverna..your pick of souvlaka, fried fish or pork roast..it all seems rather heavy and fried given the heat..I stick to the cucumber, tomato and feta salads most of the time..Helen sticks to the spaghetti..which despite the fact that it is on the menu is still probably a sore insult to the Greeks, that most tourist will instead prefer Italian food over Greek...

Mopeds...hate these friken things..they are loud, they belch exhaust and they swerve in and out of foot traffic with disdain..Helen has already been hit by one in Morocco..but everyone and their mom uses them here..ugh..they should be banned or all converted to electric at least..

Mediterranean water..beautiful and a blue that seems to make you forget everything else..the waters beckon and call me..the clarity, the warmth, the saltiness..if only I were a fish..I would be home.

the US dollar sucks right now..terrible time to travel..here's how it works..double the cost (European inflation) then add 40% (exchange rate)..ugh..way over budget we are..coming home early I guess..

Or....I had the thought the other day that since I could not beat the falling US dollar that I would instead find a way to profit from it's decline..the answer was simple..stay abroad and work..earn euros or pounds instead and use the devalued exchange rate to pay off our mortgages at a discount rate..only problem is the language barrier..most of Europe uses English as a second language..an Esperanto of sorts..that allows the Danes to communicate with the Greeks..in addition to solid coding skills, most employers on international monster.com are looking for English language skills in addition to the national language as well as other solid technical skills of which I posses none..I feel sorely unprepared to compete in any global market..the cozy blanket of orange county seems a welcome reprieve to this realization..hrm...medium fish in a small pond perhaps..

visual stimuli..its the little things as always..miss television and video games (Civ 4)..been reading a lot lately, Harry Potter, Indiana Jones, Robert Ludlum..its not the same though.. anyway Greece is cool..thinking about opening a Domatia here..

for now, we're camped out in Rhodes for a couple of days as we await the ferry to Fethiye Turkey...killed a cockroach in our room last night..the beds are lumpy and the sheets are threadbare and stained..par for course..

for more pics try Kelly's site at:

http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcNmbNszcNWHC

or

http://www.flickr.com/photos/kellyslynn

cheers..............................................................

Friday, August 10, 2007

Ode to Homer (a.k.a. sorry its a long post)

doh~! getting out of Morocco was a pain in the bum. Apparently Morocco is only really connected to Spain, Paris and Frankfurt by expensive air flights... The initial plan of skipping along the coast of North Africa by ferry was sank due to the recent suspension of several ferry routes in the area..to salt the wound it also seems nearly impossible to get into Egypt without paying for a 400 euro return air ticket from Greece..Greece to Cairo is about Reno to LA..but for 500 usd..darned expensive. Anyway, after some clever searching and route planning Helen and Kelly managed to piece together a relatively cheap string of air flights from Fez to Athens via Casablanca and Barcelona..Unfortunately the travel day ended up being almost 24 hours long..the upside being that we got an 8 hour layover in Barcelona..more than enough time to tour around town and grab more tapas and sangria. Long day short, we arrived in Athens at 4 am local time..and despite this late hour it was still about 100 degrees outside..apparently we had decided to land smack in the middle of a recent heat wave (and subsequent fire storm). We paid 40 euro for a taxi to get from the airport to our hotel in the Plaka area in central Athens which we thought was ridiculously expensive until the sun rose and we were able to scramble up to a rock outcropping near the Parthenon and get a glimpse of the city (some local stray dogs were kind of enough to lead us there in a strange "lassie sort of way").. anyway, wowsers..I thought the LA and Inland Empire sprawls were bad...Athens is ridiculously large and nasty looking with a thick yellow layer of haze blanketing it..apparently it has been suffering from this scale of sprawl, pollution and congestion for several centuries and the airport being a recent addition is of course located about 20 or 30 kms out of town which explains the exorbitant cab fare. Anyway, there we were..sitting on top of a large piece of rock watching the sunrise over the hills behind the Parthenon..kind of a neat scene actually given that for 2 millennia people, all the way back to the original Greeks themselves, have probably been using this perch as a place to watch the sun rise over the Parthenon. In fact the rock itself had become quite smoothed and polished from the 2000+ years of hands and feet scrambling over its surface.. From the rock we mosied down to the entrance to Parthenon to wait to get in..by the time the doors opened several tour groups had already arrived..and within half and hour of us getting inside the other 500 tour groups showed up. Getting out of the Parthenon was actually comedy as we had to fight our way past the throngs of people just to get down the hill. In retrospect it seems that we lucked out with our 4 am arrival time since I think that if we had attempted the Parthenon at any time later in the day that we would have been hard pressed to get close to any of the structures let alone take photos of anything else but other tourists.. So after a couple of extremely hot days in Athens we decided to head towards the milder climes of the Pelopponesian peninsula..to a town called Nafplio by the beach. Nafplio was a welcome relief to the heat and the crowds..well, sort of..yes it was hot but we had the sea to swim in and yes it was crowded but they were all greeks on vacation so it was a much nicer experience than Athens. We ended up staying in a pensione named after Helen that was very quaint. 'Helen' as it turns out is a very popular greek name and I, as it turns out, am somewhat thick since almost every time time I tried to book a place to stay I would begin to spell out Helen's name..which almost universally elicited the response of "yes, I know how to spell Helen, thank you". Only about a week into Greece did I make the connection..Greek = Hellenistic..anyway.. After soaking up the salt and sun in Nafplio for several days we made our way towards Kalamata (where the olives come from) to await our ferry to Crete. On the way we hit a strange summer storm of sporadic heavy rains and (greece) lightening. Taking the ferry to Crete was long and otherwise boring except for the mild bit of choppy waves we hit about half way through. There are these strings-of-beads (kind of like rosary beads but without the religious significance) that only older greek men play with when they get nervous..so as we hit the choppy water the cabin of the ferry became alive with a cricket-like clicking and clacking as hundreds of these beads-strings came out of pockets and began to dance and flail about the wrinkled old hands of just as many older greek men..I told myself that all this noise was surely going to ward off any evil minded water spirit and that we would in fact arrive safely at our destination..which, a few short hours later, we did. Crete is an interesting place politically and geographically.. The mountains behind the town of Hania (chania) are enormous..as big as the French alps we were told..and politically Crete is mostly communist with its own sub-government to greece we were also told. (pls, anyone chime in if this is incorrect as we were skeptical ourselves) Anyway, Crete is neat. Hania, an old Venetian port town, was fun and we were able to take a snorkeling trip out to the local island to see the kri-kri's and a shot down and now sunken german WW2 bomber. From Hania we made our way to the so-overpriced-and-so-not-worth-it town of Heraklio (Iraklio) to await our ferry to Santorini.. I should mention that while in Heraklio we were able to visit the since controversially reconstructed ruins of Knossos..home of the ancient Minoan civilization that was wiped out in a smoldering hot blanket of ash when Santorini (our next destination) exploded 4000 years ago. The ferry to Santorini (thira) was the Flyingcat 4..one of the superfast hydrofoils..this thing was amazing..fast, totally smooth, high tech and a nice bright race car red thanks to Vodafone sponsorship. Santorini is a spectacular place. This once proud and tall island mountain was reduced (in the aforementioned eruption) to a non-contiguous ringlet of steep caldera walls with a still smoking central mound that oozes the occasional lava field and sulphurous stink. We stayed on the outside of the ringlet in a town called Perissa where the beaches are better. After a slight snafu with our lodging reservation thanks to the clowns (i'm being polite here) at Romani travel agency, we settled in for a few days of black volcanic rock beaches and long walks along the crest of the steep caldera walls. It was here that we had to say good bye to our friend Kelly and her funny sunburn (a painfully bright red, almost perfect diamond shape pattern centered across the back of her neck and shoulders). Helen and I wanting to avoid the mayhem of Ios, Naxos and Mykonos made our way back down to Crete this time heading east towards the town of Sitia where we are now awaiting our ferry to the famed island of Rhodes (Rodos) and our next hop into Turkey.


the parthenon being reconstructed..

more acropolis

knossos..the minoan reconstruction


helen and kelly in santorini


temple of the gods..top of the world

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

the other half

So after Marrakesh we decided to head south and east...into the desert..as in the Sahara. Most of Morocco is desert as it turns out.

we hired a taxi and a driver..Mustafa..and made our way towards Zagora on the western flank of the Sahara..

So after a 6 hour car ride through mudhut cities and no-mans lands we arrived at a nice oasis resort for a night to prepared for our camping excursion the next day. (as a comment here I'll suggest that these mudhuts despite their seemingly primitive nature are actually quite advanced..no other modern material has yet to come close to matching their heat negating powers as we found out). We hired some camels and a real live desert nomad named Najid to escort us to his camp for the night. Najid and his son Arish were the real deal, they were really nomads living in the wastelands of the Sahara, they were only in town (Zagora) for the tourist season to do exactly this...run tourist out to the desert for the night and bring them back safely. This is the part of the story that I admit that despite my best attempts to feel rough and cool at the notion of camping in the desert that once we actually arrived at our destination and set up camp that I realized how inconsequential and how extremely unfit I was for any sort of 'real' or 'on your own', 'man versus nature' survival I was and that there was no way I could ever live this nomadic desert life. Helen and Kelly in some weird twist of roles found the entire adventure delightful and new.

So after a 3 hour camel ride we found the spot, set up camp and parked the camels of to the side. We then proceeded to watch the sunset and were entertained by Arish as he sang tribal songs and danced. Najid cooked us a traditional nomad dinner of tajine which despite its excellent flavor left me wondering how and where nomads find carrots and potatoes in the desert (although we did pass several watermelon plants along the way out).

so anyway, Arish sang and danced for us as we clapped along..it was weird and wonderful at the same time...escorted by people who had almost no concept of western lifestyle..yet enthusiastically willing to share what little they had..it felt like Laurence of Arabia or the English patient..or at least this is what is it was supposed to feel like..for all I know it could have been some great farce in which we were the main actors..playing our anglophone parts of colonial conquest..

Nonetheless, it was brilliant. I shared my headlamp with Najid and his son as the sun went down and this little piece of technology amazed them both and caused many smiles...Kelly shared her fruit flavored Mike and Ike's with Arish which he treated as a pot of gold. As we talked to them we learned that Najid had in fact been born and spent the early part of his life surviving in the Sahara and that after several years of living a nomadic life in the desert and after starting a family of his own that he decided he was tired of this life and that he decided to move into the city and promote his desert skill to his advantage..aka desert camping trips for tourists..props to him.

Anyway, we slept outside in the desert..watching the sun set and the stars rise..with wind blowing sand in our faces and the smell of camels lingering in the distance. Again, it was brilliant..the stars were amazing, we saw a shooting star together, the camels were great..and the tagine and mint tea served for dinner was excellent..we wont forget this anytime soon I don't think.

Oh, also, in Zagora I got my hair cut (you try going to an Islamic monarchy and let a local hold a straight razor to your American neck..I do admit I was a teensy bit nervous), we went swimming and we spent half an afternoon looking at hundreds of Berber carpets presented by another desert tribe..the blue men. After the desert we and Mustafa our driver (how cool is that) we drove up to Fez were we planned our departure from Morocco.

blue men selling us (trying) carpet

Helen, Kelly and Arish

Camel Shadow..

Arish parking Camels...

Mudhut city on the way to Zagora

helen and elvis camel

Arish and sand dune

Arish (Al Queda) playing the tin pot

our camp