Můj tatinek jednou řikal, “všichni musí sbírat něco.” On sbíral známky v dětsví, a dnes sbírá knihy o fotbalových rozhodčích. S mojí rodinou, sbírame mince z celého světa, proto máme mince z Japonsko, z Kanad’y, České Republicky, a mnoho dalších. Ale, sbírám něco sama taky. Sbírám káči. Proč? Tady je podvika.
Když mi bylo 13 let, cestovali jsme do České Republiky s mými prarodiči. Potom jsme cestovali do Italie, ale to jenom já, můj bratr, a moji rodiče. V Praze, jsem založila moc krasnou káču v trh a moje babička ji koupila pro mě. Byla to moje vzpominka z České Republiky.
Potom, jsme cestovali do Italie vlakem a ve vlaku, můj tatinek pověděl mě o sbíraní. Když můžeme koupit něco káču v Italii, budeme. V celé Italii, jsme hledali. Hledali jsme v Římě, hledali jsme v Milaně, hledali jsme v Benátkách. Nakonec, jsme v Benátkách, viděli jeden káču v obchodě oken. Ale tento obchod byl zavřeny, a museli jsme jet vrzo ráno. Můj tatinek klepal a klepal a někdo otevřel dveře. Tato káča byla opravdu poslední káča skla v obchodě, možna v celých Benátkách. Ale koupili jsme. A měla jsem dvě káči ze dvou zemí.
Když jsem cestovala do Japonsko, koupila jsem káču tam. a Ted’, zkusím koupit káču v každé zemi. Je legrace, protože mám něco dělat všude. Musím hledat, proto mus=im zkoumat místa. Nemůžu jenot jet na proslulá místa když chci koupit káču z této země. Ale, nemůžu koupit všude, protože ěasto nemůžu hledat nebo nemůžu najít káči.
Myslím nejlepší důvod pro sbíraní je podviky. Když cestuju s někým, můžeme hledat dohromady. Je to legrace a trochu jiný než normalní cestování. V Listopadu, jsme cestovali s dvěma kamaradkamí do Turecka. Tam, jsem šly na trhy. Nemyslely jsme, že koupíme něco, protože všechno bylo velké nebo drahé. Ale, řikala jsem, když někdo bude vidět káči, prosim řekněte mi to. Asi za dvacet metrů, jsem viděla něco a křičela jsem “káěi!” Pravda, byl tučety káči. Koupila jsem jednu krásnou.
Mám dvě káči z Polska, protože jsem koupila jendu na trhu a naše výlet vůdce koupila jeden v Židovském muzeu. Je dreidel a nevím když opravdu káču, ale ona je opravdu hezká a děkovala jsem jí. Koupila jsem moji káča z Francie, z Švýcarska, a z Islandu v dětském obchodě, ale na Islandu jsem hledala jeden v kuchynském ochodu taky.
Moje kamarady někdy koupily káči pro mě v nové zemi, nebo pomohy mě s hledat někde. Nemám káči ze všech zemí kam jsem cestovala, ale mám jich mnoho. Mám káči z Japonska, ze Švýcarska, z Turecka, z Polska, z České Republiky, z Italie, z Francie, a možna ješte ale nemůžu vzponenout ted’protože jsem tady a jsou v Americe. Ale mám jednu otázku: když cestuju někam dvakrat nebo už, měla bych koupit jeden na každý výlet nebo ne?
My dad once told me, “everyone should collect something.” He collected stamps as a kid, and now he collects books about soccer referees. With my family, we collect coins from countries around the world, so we have coins from Japan, Canada, the Czech Republic, and many others. But, I also collect something myself. I collect tops. Why? Here is the story.
When I was 13 years old, we traveled to the Czech Republic with my grandparents. And then we traveled to Italy, but it was only me, my brother, and my parents. In Prague, I found a beautiful top in a market and my grandmother bought it for me. It was my souvenir from the Czech Republic.
After, we traveled to Italy by train and on the train, my dad told me about collecting. If we could find a top in Italy, we would buy it. Throughout Italy, we searched. We searched in Rome, we searched in Milan, we searched in Venice. At the end of our time in Venice, we saw one top in a shop window. But the shop was closed and we had to leave early in the morning. My dad knocked and knocked and someone opened the door. That top was truly the last glass top in the store, and maybe in all of Venice. But we bought it. And I had two tops from two countries.
When I travelled to Japan, I bought a top there. And now, I buy a top in every country I visit. It is fun, because I have something to do everywhere. I have to look, so I have to go to different places. I cannot only go to the tourist places if I want to buy a top in that country. but I can’t always buy one, because often I can’t search or I can’t find a top.
I think the best reason for collecting is the stories. If I travel with someone, we can search together. It is fun, and a bit different than normal travel. In November, I went to Turkey with two friends. There, we went to the outdoor market. We didn’t think we would buy anything, because everything was big or expensive. But I said if anyone sees tops, please let me know. From about twenty meters, I saw something and yelled “Tops!” It was true – they were dozens of tops. I bought a pretty one.
I have two tops from Poland, because I bought one at a market and our trip leaders bought one at the Jewish museum. It is a dreidel, and I don’t know if it is truly a top, but the woman is so nice and I thank her. I bought my tops in France, in Switzerland, and in Iceland from children’s stores, although I also found one in Iceland in a kitchenware store.
My friends sometimes buy me tops from new countries, or help me look for them somewhere. I don’t have tops from every country I’ve been to, but I have tops from many of them. I have tops from Japan, Switzerland, Turkey, Poland, the Czech Republic, Italy, France, and maybe more but I can’t remember because I am here and they are in America. But I have a question: If I travel somewhere twice or more, should I buy one for each trip, or not?
Melody asked for an explanation, so here we go:
In the States, we’re used to seeing cops pretty much wherever we may be. If not cops, then security guards. But they keep their guns holstered, if they even have them. (Some of them don’t deserve even the tazers they get, but that is a story for another blog, I think…) Apparently, this tendency to keep guns hidden, even in a country with the “God-given” right to carry arms, is the outlier. In both Gatwick Airport and all over Turkey, there were cops just casually walking around semi-automatic weapons. That’s pretty much all there is to this story. When we were in Gatwick, there were two cops walking around with semi-automatic weapons across their chests. Honestly, it didn’t really bother me; I barely even noticed expect that Alyssa pointed out that one of them was particularly attractive. The second, and slightly more frightening, story happened in Fethiye. We walked past the police station on our way from the bus stop to the hostel, and there were two cops with AK-47s standing outside the entrance. The thing is, these guys didn’t have the guns across their chest. Nope. They were both holding them straight forward, and it literally felt like they were aimed directly at our heads. Who knows why they were like that, but they were.
So there you are, the story of the cops with guns aimed at our heads.
One of the best parts of my trip to Turkey was the hot air balloon ride. It was, simply, amazing. Being up in the air at sunrise was gorgeous, and the balloon itself was SOOOO much bigger than I could ever imagine. The whooshing sound scared me each time the flame was turned on, and the flame kept not only the gas in the balloon hot, but also those of us in the basket warm. Our guide was fantastic; he was funny and knowledgable and always seemed completely in control of the balloon (thank goodness!!). From the air, we saw for miles in every direction, and saw everything “worth seeing” in the region of Cappadocia.
We took off around 6 in the morning, as the sky was lightening, but well before the sun actually rose. There were about 50 balloons that went up that day, nothing close to the rumored 150+ balloons of peak season, but still absolutely amazing to watch. We spent about an hour in the air, rising and falling in altitude and floating around the valleys of Cappadocia. At no time did I feel like the balloon was anything except safe. Even though they started the trip with instructions on how to brace yourself at landing, we ended up landing the basket directly on the trailer, with no impact whatsoever. The trip was definitely worth the money (even though it was the most expensive part of my trip to Turkey by a lot!).
We visited Turkey, and from the very first moment we set foot on Turkish soil, there were pomegranates everywhere. And they were damn cheap.
Now anyone who knows me knows I love me some pomegranate seeds, in spite of the time it takes to eat them. (Or perhaps because of – peeling two or three pomegranates is a perfect excuse to watch some TV, plus you end up with a huge bowl of effort-free snacking.) Trader Joes’ dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds, my personal pomegranate brownie recipes, pomegranate juice mixed with club soda during long dance rehearsals, really anything with pomegranate hits the spot. Especially when a pomegranate (the biggest pomegranates I’ve ever seen!) costs a mere 50 cents.
(Molly’s face after devouring a pomegranate was covered in bright red juice – it looked like she had killed a small animal. Hence the term “pomegraminal” was born.)
Pomegranate #1 – approximately 10 minutes after arriving in Fethiye. Molly had never had one. It was the first of many fruits eaten on the go.
We ate a pomegranate at sunrise after hiking to the tombs in Fethiye. A couple of plums and a feta-cheese filled pastry, too.
Day 3: Pomegranates must be eaten where the view is breathtakingly beautiful. Especially when you’re halfway through a hike from an abandoned stone town to the most famous beach in the country.
A sunrise hot air balloon ride is fun and all, but you might as well make it better with a bit of sweet fruit.
There were carts all over Istanbul with pomegranates for juicing. Fresh pomegranate juice isn’t much different from POM.
And then. On our last night, approximately six hours before our flight left the country, we were shown the best way to prepare a pomegranate. So now we know what to do when we buy our next pomegranate, I guess. (Who knows when that will be – they’re so expensive here and in the US) Just slice off the top, slice down between the sections, remove the center, split the fruit, peel off the white pith, and enjoy.
* I got asked how I eat pomegranates without getting red stains on my hands. I’ll be really honest – we did get red stains all over our hands. For some reason, the stains didn’t seem as bad as the stains I get when I eat pomegranates in the States, and they washed off much faster. Nonetheless, I’ve got a few tips. When I’m in the States, I typically peel a pomegranate by putting it in a big (giant!) bowl of water. The red juice gets dispersed into the water, which prevents it from staining your hands. Also, the last picture in this post shows how the Turks eat their pomegranates without getting stained. Its hard to explain, but they carefully slice through the outer peel at the top and take it off so they can see the fruit of the pomegranate. Each pomegranate is split into sections, as you can see above. By cutting the top off, it is possible to see the sections, and then slice down between them. I haven’t attempted it yet, but the guy that cut this pomegranate for us managed to do so without a single seed split open.
This is a list, with no context for anything. If you want a specific story, write it in a comment and I will happily oblige! (91 stories is just too many to tell!) Also, there are some relevant pictures for fun.
- The super long line for EU passports, no line for us at Gatwick.
- Opening the beer bottles (Gatwick) – drinking in McD’s grass – “Oh my god. That is an ugly ass car.” “His window is down. We’re in an English speaking country.”
- The cold airport floors.
- Lebanese breakfast – fool mudamas – leaving the leftovers in the bathroom.
- Taxi drivers that switched.
- Hula hooping at the bus station.
- Giant fruit market – pomegranate the first.
- Electroworld guy and his directions via bus.
- The kid playing on the bridge with the water underneath lit up by lights.
- Fish market dinner – yoghurt drink.
- The bar that didn’t exist.
- 12 hours of sleep and a kickass breakfast.
- Camels – pet – bite – selfies.
- Fish market waiter while we were waiting for the bus to Oludeniz and drinking coke.
- Zuzu’s jewelry stand.
- Picking the pomegranate of the tree – eating them at the top of the mountain – back photos.
- Meeting the British couple – hiking – coffee the next day.
- Oludeniz dog – humping the other one – teaching it how to swim – the other dog’s nasty shit on the beach.
- French fries and a fish bowl for lunch.
- Waiter was HOT – we pick that one.
- Sunset on the rocky beach.
- Pomegranate on the beach wall after sunset.
- Bathroom incident – “just be polite”
- Dinner with the hostel followed by drinks with the staff – guys talking about Molly in French – Aniko’s ex – lamb pizza, cheese dessert – cheese bread – cool music at the bar.
- Smelling like cigarettes.
- Dawn hike – pomegranate at the tomb – creating “pomegraminal”.
- French toast breakfast.
- Paragliding – Molly scared on the drive – Alyssa’s guide.
- Feeding a fish to the cat on the pier.
- The sea turtle just chilling.
- Changing into sweatpants before the bus ride.
- When do we get off the bus? Bathroom breaks?
- Teaching Alyssa to play Backgammon.
- Found the hot air balloon company all by ourselves.
- Rolls – Molly getting defensive.
- Climbing into the caves – 2 hrs = ½ km – moving the ladder – tunnel joints – dogs that stole Molly’s bag – how did we get up that first rock? – mountain biker that thought we were crazy – stupid horse.
- Hot air balloon – awesome guide – Asian Polaroid – champagne shower – pomegranate that we almost forgot to eat – Kathy’s ripped jeans – top ramen noodles.
- Delicious lunch, stupid cats – Molly tried to feed one.
- Too-long cab ride to the airport.
- Molly’s tickets.
- Security twice at every airport.
- Cops in Fethiye, Gatwick – guns aimed at our heads.
- 11 postcards for 1 Lira.
- Molly bought all the harem pants the store had.
- The bus to Taksim.
- “Are you the guy to check us in?” (nope.)
- Sexy Australian men.
- All of Molly’s alarms.
- When Kathy thought Molly was the bed post.
- Guy that shit in the hostel and then didn’t wash his hands.
- Men’s room at the mountain top when paragliding.
- Molly’s tea with coffee.
- Mini-Hagia Sofia.
- Figuring out the head scarves (and skirts – Alyssa).
- Bread. Bread. More bread. (Not that we’re complaining!)
- Why are the dogs always following us?
- Photography museum for 1 Lira.
- Shoe maker that wanted Kathy to take his picture.
- Pictures of the kids at the Best Western.
- Lunch after following the guy in the blue shirt.
- Textile, button shops.
- Bulk bazaar.
- Spice bazaar – spicy spice – trying the string cheese – getting those chocolates – love tea.
- Walking the wrong way to get to the bridge.
- The fishermen getting out of our way when we wanted them in the picture (sunset on the bridge).
- Street food – corn, sesame rolls, hot dogs, honey bread with nutella.
- Turkish delight – What’s it made of? Turkey!
- Turkish guys sounding like seagulls saying “boyfriend” when Molly told her story – Kathy’s fake boyfriend.
- Molly almost getting hit in the face by a fish.
- Lesson on how to open a pomegranate.
- Postcards – the pile handed to the guy at the hostel – the stack from Voyager that we left in the airport.
- German fountain?
- Recounting all of this nonsense at the falafel place.
- Getting led around the Turkish bath like a little child when you’re basically naked.
- Not waking up at 2:45am like we were supposed to.
- Passport stamps!
- All the people buying their bus tickets from the airport with 500 crown notes.
- UK passport guy – questions, seeing him in the parking lot.
- Woman with the bus company.
- Electro world guy – 1st time we asked for directions, 2nd time, at lunch the last day in Fethiye.
- Flight attendant at Dalaman.
- Guy that works in hotel / saw at the market across the street on the way to the hostel – three times – he lives in Cappadocia, we’re going there, “you’re still here?”
- Waiter from the fish market – at dinner, walking to the bar. Also, his little brother.
- British couple – hiking, in Fethiye.
- Bec and Aniko.
- “No bathroom” guy at the falafel place – told Alyssa to go back to the Hagia Sofia.
- Airport American (Japanese ethnicity?) with the mustache.
- Creepy guy in the taxi/bus back to Kayseri – smoking, Axe, google translated conversation – Ivana Humpalot.
- Spice bazaar guys – “I have poison for your boyfriend.” “Spice girls” “Spice lady” “Spice ladies” “Are you real?” “The short girls are the best lovers (the guy we bought spices from)
- Australian family from the balloon – “no bullshit best coffee”