Greece

“What’s your dream vacation, if money’s no object?”

“I’d sail the Greek Islands…on a private yacht, staffed with twenty hot and sweaty sailors. Did I mention they’re naked, or was that implied?”

 

While The Boat is not a yacht and it’s not staffed with hot and sweaty sailors, I traveled to more Greek Islands than my Greek local friends. I set afoot in Athens, Katakolon, Olympia, Iraklion, Mykonos, Rhodes, Gythion, Mykonos and Santorini. Of course, I was there during the garbage strikes and general protesting in the streets. Not the safest time to be an American traveler, but I experienced Greece the way I’d always dreamed.

It was end of the season, I’ve always believed end of the season is the best time to explore a new place on a budget, but in Greece, end of the season, is more like, “Don’t come here, there’s nothing to do, we’ve all gone home.” Or in my case, “Don’t come here, we’ve all gone to protest.”

Santorini

Except for Santorini. Santorini is a Greek paradise, it’s everything I expected Greece to be. I rented an ATV and tooled around the island with the regular gang, ate one of the best meals of my life at a small second floor restaurant we picked because we believed the Browns wouldn’t climb the steps and we’d have the place to ourselves – we were correct in our assumption and I rode a donkey named Dick.

Santorini via Donkey

In Athens, I went to the Acropolis. The Acropolis. What can I say? I have trouble wrapping my mind around what came before us. The ruins I saw, were works of art in and of themselves, I can only imagine what they looked like when they were first built. Awe inspiring, the simple massiveness of marble, awe inspiring.

The Acropolis

In Mykonos, we gays did our research. You see, we knew where we needed to go and how to get there, what did didn’t know that where we wanted to go had closed two weeks earlier. When the cab rounded the cliff overlooking Club Paradise, our driver, a crone of a woman, laughed.

“You have the whole beach to yourselves. Twenty dollars, each.”

Denied!

Then she cackled again as she drove away and became concerned. The gate was open, but no one was inside. We were trapped, miles away from The Boat and nothing around but a deserted gay beach village. Did I mention the cats? The place was overrun with feral cats. It was a scene out of a horror movie. Four American gays in Mykonos looking to get their gay on are abducted and locked in a deserted beach house, only to be tortured to death by the crone cab driver who’d orchestrated the plan to appease her ancient gods…obviously, we made it back, I’ll let you use your imagination to fill in the how….

Mykonos had left a bad taste in my mouth, which was clean washed away by my short time in Rhodes. Good beer, good friends and a good deal on a fantastic little diamond ring.

In Greece, I stood in the Temple of Zeus. I stood on the site of the first Olympics, the first Olympics! I have a greater appreciation of Greek food and a new love of feta cheese. Feta goes with everything!

Olympia

 

Greece was everything I’ve always hoped it would be, minus the twenty hot and sweaty sailors…but, I’m NOT complaining!

 

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Photo Album Phriday – Pigeons Around The World…

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The Nasca Lines

It’s a hazy, predawn morning in Lima, Peru, when it hits me, “I’m about to see the Nasca Lines with my own eyes.”

Nasca Lines...A Dream Come True

I’ve been fascinated with the Nasca Lines since they were featured in an episode of In Search Of… with Leonard Nimoy. Seeing them, a bucket list item since before I knew what a bucket list was. To think I’m about see them, especially the Nasca Monkey, with my own eyes, wow, it’s mind-blowing

For those readers not familiar with the lines, they are a “heritage of humankind site,” and are located 400 km south of Lima, Peru in the city of Ica. The windswept desert plains were carved by the Nasca Indians using a simple technique of scraping trenches into the ground to form dozens of different figures, geometric shapes and straight lines. The most important aspect about the lines is that their mere existence demonstrates that the Nasca civilization had developed a highly sophisticated culture and had a marvelous expressive capacity, a vision many pre-Columbian civilizations shared.

 

Aliens did it!

I think the aliens did it, but that’s neither here, nor there…

 

It’s little after five in the morning as we make our way down the Peruvian coastline. Nasca is five hours away, one straight road. I notice, the sky is gray. We’re the only car on the road. The sea is gray. “Why are there no other cars on the road?” The mountains are brownish-gray. The only visible vibrant color is the green of the occasional palm tree. Peru is very gray. I didn’t realize the coastline of was desert, it seems odd, a desert so close to water…but, it being salt water, I guess it make sence. A couple hours pass, the skies turn a light pale blue, still, with very few cars on the road, but it’s Sunday, perhaps Peru, like my travel-mate, is sleeping in.

My name will be on that sign forever...

The further south we travel, lush vegetation replaces the bleak desert. With farms dotting the low mountainside – wait; mountains, the beginning of the Andes? – to our left and beach resorts punctuating the right. New construction, or is it abandoned construction, stands at the ready. Bricks waiting for bricklayers, crane waiting for operators, I guess today is the day off.

On one side of the road, what were rolling sand dunes become private fenced-in beaches with tennis courts and swimming pools. Ah, rich people.

A mile further down; shanty towns, corrugated tin walls, cardboard homes. Ah, poor people.

Dunes becomes fields again; the smell of smoke hangs in the air as crops lay scorched next to acres upon acres of…what is that? Corn?

Our driver doesn’t speak English.

I can’t ask the questions to which I want answers.

We pass a prison. Must be, the barbed wire is a dead give away. Is that a prison, in the middle of desert?

Next, grapes? A vineyard? A winery, perhaps. Olive trees? Fig trees? Are we in Italy?

There’s road construction and tollbooths. If it weren’t for the fact we’re driving though a desert, I’d say it felt a little like heading to Newark Airport…

I’m incredibly frustrated; in my broken Spanish I can ask for a bathroom, a hamburger and a Diet Coke, but I can’t figure out how to say, “What’s growing over there?”

“What are they building over there?”

“What does that sign mean?”

“Why are those men wearing underwear on the side of the road?”

We drive for three and a half hours without stopping. I gotta to pee. Of course, there’s nowhere to stop, desert to the left…with not a tree in sight. “Senior? Banos por favor?” If I knew how to say, “Pull over, I gotta pee! NOW!!” I would have.

“Un memento. One moment, mi amigo.”

Fifteen minutes later we hit our first stop. My kidneys ready to burst.

We changed cars. We changed drivers. I peed for ten minutes, straight. We added a personal, English-speaking tour guide to our merry band – I believe her name is the Spanish equivalent of Jillian, but if you put a gun to my head I wouldn’t be able to tell you with 100% certainty. For next two hours we’re treated to interesting facts and figures about Peru and the Nasca Indians.

She answers the questions I have, before I get a chance to ask.

“Ica with over 350,000 residents is the largest city in Southern Peru.”

“Agriculture is the number one economic product in Southern Peru with Paprika, White Asparagus and Artichokes it’s biggest crops.”

“Peru’s largest prison is here. The desert conditions keep the men from escaping, there’s nowhere to go.”

“Peru mines thirty percent of the world’s silver.”

“There are dozens of wineries and Pisco producers in the area, the dry conditions are ideal for growing grapes.”

“Nasca means ‘place of pain and sacrifice.’”

“The lines were created fifteen hundred years before Christ was born.”

“The conservation of the lines is completely natural, the dew reacts with the gypsum creating a gluelike consistency in the morning holding the small rocks and sand in place and the heat of the afternoon forces pillows of warm air into the trenches which acts like bubble wrap to keep the lines intact.”

There’s one question I have she didn’t answer, “Is Nasca spelled with a ‘Z’ or an ‘S’?”

“In the Spanish language, the ‘Z’ does not make the sound the ‘S’ makes. Nasca is spelled with an ‘S.’”

Curses!

In my head, it seemed more exotic with the ‘z.’

I'm bigger than the plane!

Exactly five hour and five minutes after leaving the Port of Callao, five we arrive at the airport. A forty minute flight aboard a four-seater Cessna OB-1655 was the order of the day. We waited for what felt like hours for the other couple to fill our four seats – it was probably closer to  20 minutes but I digress, I made it bearable by visiting all the gift shops.

Outside the terminal, vendors were setup and did they see me coming! A tee-shirt, a coin purse, two patches, a decorative plate, a sterling silver dog-tag with the monkey on it hanging from a brown, woven-leather cord and a one magnet later, it was time to fly.

When the other couple arrived, we made a quick pass through security, well, I beeped four times. The fifth time through, I was nearly naked, but headed out to the tarmac. The wife, a bit irked I made her wait…the nerve. In front of me was the smallest plane known to man. From the outside, to me, if all six of us got in, it wasn’t getting off the ground. But before you can say, “Come fly the friendly skies,” we were up in the air.

Have you ever flown in a teeny tiny propeller plane, Jew and Gentile Readers? If you have, you know it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It’s like taking a ride in a dryer.

On two separate moments, right after seeing the whale and right before seeing the spider, I was sure I was going to toss my cookies.

“Do you need the window open?” The Co-Pilot asked.

A resounding “Yes!” from all the passengers.

“Quick, to the right…”

In forty minutes I learned to hate any phrase that began with, ‘quick, to the…’ because they were always followed by a quick jerk and dive in said direction. Without time to prepare for the quick change. Like rag dolls, we were tossed. Cameras clicking, no time to focus, just point and shoot, hoping here’s something on the film.

The hummingbird

“Quick, to the left…”

“Look over there…”

“Oh my, there it is…”

“This is amazing…”

The Monkey!!!

I saw the monkey, the Nasca monkey. With my own eyes.

 

Check her off.

We land without incident, my legs shaking. My heart beating in my fingertips. I’m struck dumb. It’s not very often I’m speechless, so instead, I cry.

“How was it?” Jillann sounding name asks.

I can’t answer, I just cry.

The rest of the day is a blur, there was lunch and a stop at the Nasca Museum, the five hour ride back, the sunset…

 

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Travel Quote Tuesdays

Tuppence, Tuppence....

“When you travel, remember that a foreign country is not designed to make you comfortable. It is designed to make its own people comfortable.”

Clifton Fadiman

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You Asked It: “Sea days…”

“What do you do on all those sea Days?” A friend asked. “It must get so very boring, especially on those long voyages.”

 

I do lots.

But mostly, I watch TV.

Now, Jew and Gentile Readers, not the TV broadcast to my room, that would be Fox News, the 10,000th viewing of The Last Holiday or Fox News and I’m not that much of a glutton for punishment.

I’ve been watching full series TV without commercial interruption on my computer. True Blood, Sex and the City, Charmed, Glee, Little Britain, Star Trek Voyager, Family Guy, Queer as Folk, Rick and Steve, the Happiest Gay Couple in the World, Robot Chicken, Weeds, Battlestar Galactica, and Xena, Warrior Princess.

Who’d a thunk I’d miss broadcast TV?

 

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Photo Album Phriday – Russia

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An Open Letter to the Bottlers of Diseño Malbec

Dear Diseño,

I just want to drop a quick note of thanks and praise.

I’ve been traveling, sampling the wines of the world; well, I’ve been working on a cruise ship, singing and dancing, which happened to take me ‘round the world, the wine drinking was just a happy coincidence…

Of all the grape I’ve imbibed, your Old Vine Malbec – Mendoza, Argentina – is the best. No really, in my opinion, just the best of the bunch.

Best wine for the money...

As the label states, “Diseño Malbec is a rich wine with an inviting bouquet of stone fruit. A hint of coffee complements the blueberry, spice and chocolate flavors.” I’m not sure what a stone fruit is…a stoned fruit is another story altogether…but the blueberry, coffee and chocolate flavors burst on my tongue, it probably helps that blueberry, coffee and chocolate are my three favorite flavors, well, those and blue….

Your adults-only drink pairs well with everything; from pizza to filet magnon, crab cakes to chocolate cakes, especially dark chocolate. A bite of dark chocolate, the darker the better, with a sip of Diseño sets-off fireworks in my mouth. It adds class to lowbrow fare and complements the highbrow.

So, thank you Diseño.

Keep bottling your Malbec and I’ll keep buying it.

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The End Is Neigh…

Who knew that when I auditioned for a job, I was sure I wasn’t going to get, in May 2010, that I’d visit 25% of world doing that job for almost two years? I surely didn’t. I didn’t know that after finishing my shift on the eight floor of the Marriott Marquis that afternoon that it would be one of my last.

I’ve said it, and I’d bet my actor friends would agree, “It’s the ones you don’t care about, that you book…” We’ve all gone on auditions for the sake of going, not the promise of a job. I was sure, sure, I wouldn’t book this gig, “Cruise ships don’t hire people like me.” I thought…

Flash forward almost two years.

What a ride! What…an education.

I know of what I’m capable, how far outside my comfort zone I can safely go and what I’m willing to risk for adventure and satisfaction. I’m a different person now. Not on the outside – with the exception of the 20 extra pounds – on the inside. No, I didn’t experience some epiphany-like moment of great clarity, Jew and Gentile Readers, it’s the little things….The little things that people don’t notice. The things only you, yourself, can see.

I set out to write a post about “all the mixed emotions which endings bring about,” but realized, I can’t get all sappy, it’s not who I am. Sure, I’ll be sad saying goodbye to all my friends, blah blah blah…I’ll miss this and that and that, and don’t forget that.

 

Boring! Let me just say this very plainly, so there isn’t any confusion, “Even the bad times were better than sitting on my ass in Weehawken. I had a freaking amazing time and I’d do it all again.”

I’ve been blessed with not one, but two jobs, which’ve taken me to far off lands and distant places, when does the next one start? My bags are packed.

 

 

 

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Travel Quote Tuesdays

La Brea Tar Pits

“A wise traveler never despises his own country.”

Carlo Goldoni

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The Baltic Adventure: Week Seven, Stockholm, Sweden

Stockholm:

Suckholm is more like it.

Our pier berth was a thirty minute walk from towns – both Old and New – and finding WiFi was difficult to say the least. There was no shuttle bus into town and a taxi cost your first born. Even though from the bow it all seemed to be right there.

Up on the rooftop...

The anniversary of my 35th birthday fell on a Swedish port day and it was probably the best day I’d spent there. It was the only day I had a great time. I signed up for the shore excursion, “Historic Walk on a Rooftop.” Now, I expected it to be, “Take an elevator to the top floor of one of Stockholm’s skyscrapers and wander around while a guide points out the sights.” I couldn’t have been more wrong. Our guide picked us up, took us on an hour long walking tour and then up to the peaked roof of the former Parliament Building. We got strapped into harnesses, clipped on to a guide wire and began to traverse the rooftop on a nine inch wide platform!

As someone who loves the feeling of heights – skydiving is still one of my fondest memories – this was an awesome birthday present.

The remainder of the day, my last in town, I wandered around on my own. I found a great pub, had a beer and internet, found a great store where I bought myself a few birthday presents and slowly made my way back to The Boat before all-aboard.

Now, Jew and Gentile Readers, isn’t that always the thing? On the last day, the last time I’d be in Stockholm, I fell in like with the place. Of course, it was the day I explored on my own, unhindered by anyone else’s agenda.

The Baltic’s were quite an adventure for me. With so many languages and currencies and cultural differences to experience. It was the perfect primer for the rest of Europe and Africa and quite the difference from the South Pacific and South America. It was as if The Boat went from poverty to princes and I got to take the ride.

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Packing it all up…

I feel as if I’m moving out of an apartment; an apartment I’ve been living in for a year and a half; oh, wait a second, I am moving out of an apartment I’ve been living in for a year and a half. Granted, A048, was more a small studio, on the gangway of a mid-sized cruise ship, but it was my apartment.

I’ve already packed and shipped nine large boxes to mother’s house where they’ll be safe until my return. I’ve donated clothes and other home goods to the poor people of Fanning Island and handed out claims to the folks I’ll be bequeathing my home furnishings to upon my disembarkation. I plan to leave The Boat with a shoulder bag, a carryon and a suitcase. To make my load even lighter, I ripped all my DVDs and donated the hard disks to the crew office – forty DVDs vs one portable hard drive, the answer’s quite clear. I’m afraid I’ll have to rent a small truck to get everything back into 128 18th St. It’s going to be quite the project, moving back in and unpacking. Ugh, after packing comes unpacking.

So, what will I be unpacking?

I tried not to go overboard with buying during my time away.

I tried.

I didn’t succeed, but I tried.

I bought clothes in Europe, most of which was mailed home as mentioned above, it was autumn in Europe, no need for sweaters and long pants in Hawaii and the South Pacific but I’ll certainly need them upon my return. February in NYC, love it!

I bought office supplies and home decor and bedding in Alaska. Most of which has been given away or earmarked. I may have over purchased, did I really need two comforters? There are things I’m leaving behind for the next tenant of A048. I’m not bringing any of it home, I’ve gotten more than enough use out of my two dollar scissors and my fifty cent ruler…

I bought art from around the world; Nicaragua, Greece, Hawaii. Canvases, sculptures, wall-hangings and small objet d’art. I plan to redecorate the kitchen of 128, travel themed. Not tacky with lots of maps and crap, but all my treasures from ‘round the world.

I bought patches and key chains. The patches are in place on my nap-sac, the keychains already repurposed as Christmas tree ornaments – packed and sent home, hardly any room taken-up, it all fit into a free gift with purchase Calvin Kline travel kit bag….

I bought a lot which I have nothing to show; food, coffee – lots of coffee – hotel rooms, internet, excursions, alcohol and cigarettes.

I bought jewelry. A watch and ring from The Boat., A ring, a very expensive ring from Greece (a gift to myself, for eighteen months of service). Fun pendant necklaces from all over, but mostly from Peru. A very masculine Pearl bracelet from Tahiti.

I bought cologne. I went from one to ten bottles in no time flat.

 

My goodness! I’m gonna need to plan a stoop sale…

 

 

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Photo Album Phriday – Israel

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I smell…

For the longest time, I didn’t enjoy the smell of a man wearing cologne, wait, scratch that, what I mean to say is, I never liked the way I smelled wearing cologne. This coming from a man who’s last regular cologne was Carrington, inspired by the TV’s hit, nighttime soap opera, Dynasty.

High school ended, I added CkOne. When Carrington was discontinued and I couldn’t find it anywhere, not even dollar stores, I added Jean Paul Gaultier – mostly for the bottle. What? The Gaultier bottle is hot. For the rest of my adult life, that was it.  The only scents I’d spray.

Now, after eighteen months, I’ve added to my collection of scents: Burberry Sport, Burberry London, Burberry Touch – I like Burberry, love London – Kenneth Cole Black, CkTruth…and those are just the favorites

I like to mix and match to create a unique scent that fits the moment being lived. And to answer your unasked question, Jew and Gentile Readers, “Yes. Yes I needed the over $500.00 in cologne because my life is full of unique moments, I can’t be expected to smell the same every time.”

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Travel Quote Tuesdays

Summiting the Volcano

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.”

Mark Jenkins

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The Baltic Adventure: Week Six, Helsinki, Finland

Helsinki:

Best Street Sign EVER!

After taking the “Helsinki Highlights” shore excursion, I found Finland city didn’t have very many.  I’m exaggerating of course, but, I really have no want, need or desire to return.

I called it “HelSTINKY.”

Next Week: Stockholm, Sweden

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