Wednesday, September 29, 2010

at sea

a cruise:

The practice of loading up an enormous floating replica of Las Vegas with a bunch of fearful Americans and whipping them past a dozen tourist-oriented ports of call at thirty knots. (Michael Chabon, Wonder Boys)

true.

although i enjoyed my one cruise immensely, it was exhausting trying to escape the throngs of shipmates to find a secluded spot to enjoy a Greek afternoon, just to turn around and sprint back to the boat before sunset. i believe that on a truly luxurious vacation, one shouldn't have to wear a watch.

on our one cruise, two of my favorite words were "at sea." this simply meant that we could sleep late, eat lots, lounge by the pool, and not worry about Heraklion's shitty museum or getting the Pharaoh's curse in an Alexandrian alleyway.

another Corona with lime, please, waiter.

if i played up the adventurer in me too much in the last post, i would like to apologize. for every yin there is a yang. and after five days of navigating the backwoods of Transylvania, we were ready for seven days of sunscreen on the shores of the Red Sea.

hello, Hurghada.

although "five-star" in Egypt is more like "4.5 star" in America, it was still FOUR.POINT.FIVE.STAR! marble, a/c, cold beer, all-you-can-eat, sun loungers, palm trees, and so much luscious green-grass sod in the middle of a Saharan landscape, that it made Las Vegas look eco-friendly. the hotel even sort of looked like a huge boat.

ahhhh....decadence.

here's what we did:
  • apply sunscreen
  • eat
  • sunbathe (three days), scuba dive (three days)
  • read book
  • eat
  • float the lazy river (our pool had a LAZY RIVER)
  • drink
  • eat
  • drink
  • sleep

talk about well-rested.

today begins day 1 of "Operation Move to America."

as they say, the party's (nearly) over.

time travel

there is something about "backpacking through europe" that appeals to most Americans. i think we may be stuck on a 1970s adventure ideal where the exchange rates were favorable, backpacking involved backpacks, and there were no motorways, McDonald's, or mobile phones.

for better or worse, the idealistic adventure has somewhat faded. now, with an international plan on the iphone, a rental car, and a GPS, one can travel through europe in nearly the same manner as one can travel through Texas. book online, set the route, order a big mac.

in many ways, this is nicer than times past. there is much less stress for the newly initiated traveller, and they still get to experience French hospitality, German castles, Spanish sangria, Roman ruins... but, lately, we've been seeking outings that inject a little tiny bit of the adventure back in - the mountains of Morocco, a village in Turkey, the African bush, and now, Romania.

for the first time since 2003 on a trip to mainland europe i felt like i was sort of backpacking, albeit via rental car. we were challenged, lost, and mildly uncomfortable. it was more travel, less vacation.

our trusty GPS only had major roads on it, and by "major" i mean paved, of which there were just a smattering. we had to actually purchase a map. we could never find our lodgings and had to call people, converse with them (mostly pointing since few spoke english), ask directions, and interact.

driving 100 miles took three hours, at least, but we enjoyed gawking at roadside prostitutes, crumbling pastel-colored buildings, and massive abandoned factories. the wreckage of communism.

we passed farmers on their way to work, riding along Romanian highways in their horse-drawn carts. we saw people stacking hay and digging potatoes by hand.

we sat in clouds of cigarette smoke and ate pizza or potatoes and drank Ursus pilsner at less than $2 per liter.

we saw houses with no electricity, roads with no pavement, and grannies wearing wool leg warmers.

the locals were grim faced, mostly, but who wouldn't be if your occupation involved a wooden rake?

we got the stink-eye for 400 miles in our Avis rental, but we pressed on.

Romania today may be that hybrid between 70s backpacking and the Eurostar to Paris. one foot in the EU and one foot out. although we didn't eat a big mac on the piazza in Sibiu, we could have. but, at the same time, we couldn't have found an english menu within 100 miles in Maramures.

for the medium-core adventurer like me, this dabbling in a foreign place was just right.