I lived in France for 3 years (10+ years ago), and never made it to Lyon until now. It's a 1 hour train ride from Grenoble, and a few short hours south of Paris by TGV. It's pretty, has 2 rivers that run parallel very close to one another, has a huge 2-level cathedral perched on a hill, the biggest square (plaza) in Europe, and Fernicular trams! I like Lyon. But, it has fewer trees and mountains than Grenoble, and feels more impersonal, like big city Paris.
I took an all day and all night bus from Sofia to Milano, Italy. The bus dropped me off at what looked like a random highway gas station, and I was the only person to alight. But, the gas station attendant, who spoke French, explained to me from behind the bullet proof glass that I could easily walk toba metro station very nearby, which I did. I waited for it to open at 6am, and took ot to the Gare Centrale, a huge building in carved stone with great big arches. The ticket agen there said to go to Garebaldi, 2 metro stations farther, and take the Grench TGV to Grenoble. I did all that, and with a change to a regional TER in Chambery, I arrived in Grenoble in the afternoon in time to meet my friend Anne after work. Anne was one of my flatmates when I lived in Grenoble for a year on study abroad in college. She is now married to Sebastien, with 2 kids: Justin 3, and Sara 18 months.
Anne and Seb took us all camping for the weekend to a beautiful place that reminded me of Yosemote but without any people! Snowy peaks, herding sheep on the hill, and a gorgeous hike. It was easy to foeget that it rained almost the whole time. We met up with several other couple friends, some also with children. We ate yummy sausages, cheese, and drank wine and beer brewed in the village.
The last night, Anne invited over a single guy friend (hint hint) Didier, who I remember from 13 years ago. A whole gang of us spent new yeara up in the mountains in a refuge you have to hike to with snowshoes, and Didier was a loud one with camp songs and games to play with everyone at the table. We hooked up the laptop to see my pictures of Bhutan, and they liked them, and all the unusual stories I have.
Anne's 3 year old is having trouble going to sleep, and throws fits, but during the day, I had loads of fun with both kids, who say the same things American kids say, like "and then, and then" and "caca poo poo". Seb speaks very good English, and I want to send him the clip from the Steve Martin Parenthood movie, the part where the kid sings the diahrrea baseball song: "when you're sliding into first, and you're feeling something burst, diahrrea, plop plop, diahrrea!"
All of my photos are on the Kodak, and I was not able to upload them in Grenoble, but here's a short update in words:
I took a night bus from Ankara to Istanbul, then a day bus to Burgas, and a local bus to Sozopol, Bulgaria. I arrived at 5pm, and wandered around town with a fellow backpacker from Argentina, Frederico who I met on the bus. We never found the listed youth hostel, but an old lady on her portch waved us in and let us stay in her house, filled with rooms containing twin beds, and extra bathrooms in the hallway, as if in this pretty seaside town, she does this kind of thing all the time. She spoke zero English, but we got on like a house a fire, and and she even did my laundry for a small fee.
I met up with my old friends Sonja and Joerg, German pals I met at TAMU, who now have a 20 month-old todler Jonas. It was so good to see Sonja and talk about life and urban planning stuff, and to see Joerg and her with a baby! I thought they were skillful, ready parents and managed the kid very well! So impressed! Solid rules for behavior and safety, but also lots of time at the playground, in the sand, reading and fun.
This part of the trip is going very fast, and is chock full. I was in Sozopol only 3 nights, then zipped off to Sofia for 24 hours to walk around, see gorgeous buildings, quickly replace my broken sneakers, and take a bus to the next place...
I ended up in the middle of the Ankara protests yesterday without trying.
I watched the news, but it's only in Turkish and it didn't show Ankara, only Istanbul and Izmir (I escaped the protests in Istanbul and Izmir, without trying). I asked at the hotel before going out for the day if there were protests, they said no, only in Istanbul. I went to the Archaological museum and the Citadel in a quiet part of town with.normal shopping and Saturday activities until about 4pm, then went to the subway to go see the last major monument, the big Kocatepe Camil mosque in Kizilay, which is south of where I was staying in Ulus, one of the largest mosques in Turkey and the symbol of Ankara. There were crowds in the subway, but it was Saturday, and the station agent sold me a ticket like normal. I got down to the platform and the train going North was crowded, with passengers crowding that side of the platform. When that train arrived, the air filled with a funny smell and everyone started coughing and covering their faces.
When my southbound train arrived, police appeared and told me in Turkish not to board, and to exit the station. I went up with everyone who was required to alight the train. The station agent didn't have any information about trains not letting people on and wouldn't give me my money back (I'm so damn cheap! It's not healthy). I didn't try longer than 30 seconds, it was clearly time to leave, and get fresh air.
I walked a couple of blocks South into Kizilay and found myself in the middle of the protest, which was thrilling. I took some video that's better than what's on the tv news here. I saw the hoses and teargas cans being launched from far away and up on an overpass. It just got shitty when the teargas blew in with the wind. It made me cough and made my eyes sting for a little bit, but nothing serious. I had a hospital mask and my mosque headscarf around my face. No harmful or long term effects. Other people had swollen red eyes and needed lemon juice. The crowd had an ebb and flow of movement of people and a varying of intensity of chanting, yelling and clapping. Some people had firework flares, some people had ski or swimming goggles and bicycle helmets.
Not many Turks in Ankara speak English. One guy in the street said "hey mister, I mean lady, where are you from?" Turks are basically white (not Asian, not Indian) but they can tell I'm whiter, Western European, or Swedish they guess. That guy thought the riots are good, the gov is too conservative, it's just a waste of money when they break glass bus stops, burn garbage and benches in the street, throw litter, break the windows of a bank, break windows on an abandonned police car... My response was that's the value of an urban planning charette, listening to what the people want/need, consensus. Plus what all that police manpower, tear gas, riot vehicles, trash clean up, ambulances and ER care all cost. That's the value of the Democratic process. That's what I learned in Turkey.
The coffee guy at the Istanbul bus depot had OK English. He said about the same thing. If people no like, they protest, no problem. Government is too conservative. You are city planner in America, you get consensus, that's good.
In the Istanbul bus depot, safe and sound, surrounded by old Bulgarian traveling men. On my way to Bulgaria to meet my German TAMU MUP friend Sonja, husband and todler. I have lots of old friends and babies to visit on this part of the trip. Every other shop in Turkey sells wedding dresses. White, gold, seafoam, salmon... lots of tuille, miringue, sequins, feathers, ribbons, glitter, beadazles, tacky stuff. Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something: "dress like a fairy swan sparkle princess more often Karen!" and spend more time with kids, like my friend Jana's little boy. Jana calls me Auntie Karen :)
