nomadwoman http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/ Sun, 23 Nov 2008 00:46:59 GMT World Nomads Adventures A Parisian Haiku--- Man on train barked today* Because we are in Paris* ‘Said voo voo, not woof* --- Haiku Too--- At ancient flea market* Merchant said I was beautiful* Then offered me a plum* http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/25728.aspx Travel France turkey and beyond rose_babic http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/25728.aspx#comments http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/25728.aspx Sat, 25 Oct 2008 11:23:00 GMT 0 COFFEE and CIGARETTES, CHOCOLATE and BREAD Part 1 On the recent rare occasion of a weekend off, I had the pleasure of floating around Istanbul with my head in the clouds. I had just spent a fortnight with Melbourne mates John & Van; had purchased tickets to France, and was on route to have tea with a very handsome man of whom I consider a ‘friend’, but who’s acquaintance I have restricted to substance-void flirtation encounters. Somewhere between battering mascara-ladden lashes & fondling his shiny black shoes beneath the table, I could no longer mask my excitement and mentioned my approaching voyage. “I’M GOING TO PARIS!” I declared with delight. With no imminent response, I stared across our table covered in lolly wrappers, half-consumed glasses of Turkish tea and an empty plate of pretzels and playfully repeated “I-m g-o-i-n-g t-o P-a-a-a-r-i-s…” His response was swift and definite: “I don’t like Paris.” Excuse me? What? Pardon? Perhaps something was lost in translation. Seduction being his first language, followed by Turkish, then English, I figured that he had been so excited by the mere mentioning of Paris that he had cause to jumble his words. Had it not been for the supportive look of disgust, the comment could have gone unnoticed, or perhaps been forgiven. But, alas no. He was serious, and my heart took the modest step backwards it had avoided for so long. How could it be that I had wasted months visually undressing this person without ever realising he was such a monster? Surely I was able to focus on other qualities that superseded this newly-found imperfection? Its not like I want to marry this guy? I just want to flirt a little to keep my time here more interesting. Was a difference in opinion really such a big deal? I swiftly decided not – and without hesitation looked straight ahead and stared into his pretty, pretty eyes. There was still hope, I figured, until the hottie interrupted “..and actually” he persisted, “I don’t like French people either.” The mistress within was crushed. In my 15 years of non-committal dating I have been prone to pose 3 staple questions to would-be suitors: “Are you married? Do you enjoy sleeping with other men? Do you live with your mother?”. I had naively omitted an equally valuable query – “what are your thoughts on Paris?” With crude sincerity I can admit to not having the strongest of convictions when it comes to relationships: I have overlooked a man’s ‘other lover’; have dated someone who had ‘experimented’ in his younger years; and repeatedly engaged in debauch aurous behaviour in the single bed of a high school dorm room (FYI – the guy was not actually attending the high school and was older than the students. Slightly older). Time has since however lapsed, and I had considered myself somewhat of a better judge of character. I had overlooked this guys’ arrogance and never begrudged him his faux-pax wardrobe moments, but I’ll be damned if I was going to put up with such non-sense. With utmost clarity & a deep-rooted respect for cultural sensitivity, I leaned in toward the well-sculptured Adonis and screamed… “are you fuckin’ serious?!!” COFFEE and CIGARETTES, CHOCOLATE and BREAD Part 2 The way I see it, the French have had a bad wrap for some time now. The age-old image of a Frenchman wearing a beret and grazing nonchalantly on a crisp white baguette is stale and unimaginative; references to environmental violations are boring; and the most recent representation of an arrogant, dog-toting trendsetter is…well, is actually a slightly more realistic picture, but one that deserves a little enlightenment. The French, as I see it, are uber-cool and their fabulousness needs to be recognised & celebrated. They’re too smart to bend down and pick up dogshit; they ignore universal health information - preferring to chain-smoke instead, and almond-clad chocolate desserts are easier to come by than fruit. What’s not to love? One of the joys of my work-me-like-a-slave-whilst-treating-me-like-a-pleb-and-paying-me-less-than-i-deserve job is that I get to meet some pretty amazing people. Funny people, smart people, and people who invite me to stay in their homes…bless them. My first stop in France was in NW Nandes – a very funky town hosting the beautiful Alain & Christelle – who spoilt me rotten with a bed, great food, laughter and love. I had met A&C in a mutual friend’s jewellery store and only spoken for the length of a coffee and some cigarettes. 4 days, 4 bottles of champagne and a whole lot of espresso’s later, I headed south to exquisite Paris to stay with mon petite ami Amy, whom I travelled with in Turkey, and later for a few days in Bulgaria. Renting a teeny flat overlooking the Siene for a few months, Amy & friend Nicola were kind enough to share their space (and their bathroom!) for a while whilst I continued my espresso-streak and walk around without agenda, except to be fabulous. Flea markets, home-cooking (mine) and guilt-free exposure of my shoulders & legs is what dreams are made of. Even the inevitable cross-generational annoyances were laughable after a while - drunken late night existential conversations, and comments like “who’s Stevie Wonder?” ! Ah, to be 22 again! Highlights: - Sitting in the sun munching on a baguette whilst a passing stranger smiles and offers me a “bon apetite”. - Morning wanders with the playful Miss Amy: shopping & laughing our way through the Quarters; - Pulling out “the good clothes” and leaving behind the faded, pre-adorned staples of life on the road; - Chocolatiers – ignoring all financial commonsense and buying a teeny-weeny box of handmade chocolates that taste the life way should feel: rich, guilt-free and oh, so sweet; - Enjoying an Asian feast at my French friends’ home, whom I met in Turkey… a small world indeed; - savouring the beauty of a barista’s magic…the way a Melbourne-bred girl deserves; - waking without an alarm clock; - people watching in the parks; and - taking in the plethora of handsome men around me ☺ Note: This trip took place in September..and I have been terribly distracted since – apologies for the delays in writing; also, my friend (the “very handsome man of whom I consider a ‘friend’, but who’s acquaintance I [had] restricted to substance-void flirtation encounters”) was, in the end, excused for his naïve misgivings and has since been updated to the ‘very handsome man of whom I had the pleasure of getting to know…better.’ ☺ - A victory of eloquence, per se ☺ http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/24925.aspx Travel France turkey and beyond rose_babic http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/24925.aspx#comments http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/24925.aspx Fri, 24 Oct 2008 19:04:00 GMT 0 As the universe would have it, I was recently fortunate enough to run a trip through the Middle East – encompassing Egypt, Jordan, Syria & central to western Turkey. Not withstanding some fucking awful passengers and a bout of exhaustion, the experience was incredibly rewarding. ‘Blindly’ guiding twelve trekkers (some of whom were gems, I should add) insured a steady increase in heartbeat, eyes wide open, and some luxurious additions to a somewhat excessive scarf collection. --- With no shortage of inspiring experiences, I couldn’t help but indulge in arbitrary moments of devout reflection. Standing at the peak of Mt. Sinai, my imagination ran wild with the stories of antiquity: The Burning Bush, the 10 Commandments, and the incredible distances covered in legendary desert voyages. With all the scepticism and uncertainty in the world today, I couldn’t help but feel that Moses & JC’s journeys weren’t totally lost. Their determination for personal development & subsequent global trekking isn’t far-fetched from the aspirations of travellers today. We too hope to bridge cultures & spread love – preferably in AC internet cafés with an icy frappe & invariable use of Facebook. --- Travelling through the Holy Land also confirmed some (unsurprising) suspicions. Quite obvious is the disturbing imbalance of wealth – poor economies ensure limited incomes & basic living, whilst diplomats parade new cars, occupy grand residences…and no doubt have cable. Struggles for natural resources are also evident with few countries dominating energy sources - making neighbouring nations reliant & submissive…The disempowerment of women, and the widespread serving of bad coffee are also issues requiring imminent attention. --- Equally conspicuous in these parts is the plight of the pious – deem it noble or futile, it certainly appears to have its place in lands where the focus is often on survival. In places where basic commodities are precious, where futures are uncertain, and where security is commonly found in the predictability of day, it must be noted that a little faith can go a long way. With my own spiritual path still under construction, I rummaged around to identify my own beliefs in light of these new experiences. Success! The following is a list of recently unearthed convictions: I BELIEVE THAT YOU MUST HAVE FAITH (HF): • HF that the guy you have just spotted smoking & picking his nose in a kitchen is not the guy who will be hand-rolling the felafel kebap you have just ordered; • HF that the driver of your vehicle who continually swerves across the road, is doing so as part of a strategic, technical manoeuvre - not because he is intoxicated; • HF that when a teenage boy approaches you with a picture of a woman engaged in intercourse & demands, “fuck me. fuck me” – that his message was actually a polite, friendly welcome that somehow became lost in translation! ; • HF that a chat initiated by a middle-eastern man about the ‘behaviour’ of western women, may result in a civilised cultural exchange, rather than a heated discussion; • HF that the layer of skin removed by exfoliation at a Turkish Bath made-up part of your newly acquired tan, than an actual layer of filth you’ve been carrying around ; • HF that the stranger with whom you have decided to accept a ride with will actually take you to your destination – as promised – and will not rape/kill or sell you along the way; -- Other observations? I have no doubt that unbathed, grinning children are inherently gorgeous across the globe; and that whilst love may not ‘make the world go around’ - it certainly doesn’t hurt a country's population. --- Hope that you too are travelling well. Check out photos of the trip - 3 additional albums.  mwa mwa xx r http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/20535.aspx Travel Turkey turkey and beyond rose_babic http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/20535.aspx#comments http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/20535.aspx Sun, 22 Jun 2008 09:01:00 GMT 4 Merhaba! Hiya, hope all is well at your end :) I am well and enjoying my time here more and more each day. Time is flying past, as i walk the streets with a broad smile, map in one hand & kebap in the other. Since my arrival to the mental metropolis of Istanbul a month ago, I have been overwhelmed by the combined familiarity & uniqueness that Turkey has had to offer. On one hand, the diverse landscapes have provided me with an enormous playground, on the other…it has just seemed like a typical Sat arvo market trip to Sydney Rd (for non Melbournites: this is our local Turkish village). The friendly Turks have welcomed me with their broad smiles & shining eyes - matching their dark hair & faces marked by the sun’s harshness. Other locals, suprisingly, are fair haired, pale and meeting my glance with big blue-eyes. Mostly, however, they just look like Dad with a moustache. Since my arrival, much of my time has been taken up exploring the wonders of this Euro-Asian treasure, and poking around its various regions..taking the time to chill out and 'settle' in these parts. Apart from sleeping in & reading some crappy novels, I have had the pleasure of hang-gliding over the Mediterranean, trekking part of the historical trail of The Lycian Way, sleeping in a cave house and exploring the vast geographical wonders that just happen to have been lying about for the few bazillion years. Oh, and I've visited a mosque, or two ☺ Unfortunately, however, it’s crunch time – I’ve begun leading tours again.. Confident that I would jump straight back into it, I had been somewhat reluctant to spend my time studying at first, and preferred to spend my time leisurely. This was fine of, course, until a few weeks in I realized that I have a shitload of information to harvest!! In time, I have no doubt that I will become a valuable resource of local knowledge for my passengers, but for now, I just want to appear to know what I'm talking about – and that I have known what I'm talking about for quite some time! Never void of a story to tell - I have incurred some hiccups in my scholarly efforts so far. For starters, Australian history is quite uneventful in comparison to the big kids and their adventures on this part of the globe. Anything worth knowing – and indeed, anything I know about Australian history – can be (and has been) summed up on an A3-sized Year 8 history project. Secondly, my acquaintance with Malaysia was pretty easy. The country just turned 50. One of the federated states was Singapore, but now it isn’t. The Brits were kind enough to leave behind some pretty buildings & a decent legal system, but there involvement otherwise is debatable. The Dutch & Portugese merchants established great trade. And the Chinese (bless them) pimp the pork. Easy. Turkey however, has seen quite a bit of action - and I am both excited and overwhelmed by it all: The Romans, The Greeks, The Hittites, Dark Age, Bronze Age, baklava. Ideally, I would have a pool of references to immerse myself in, but alas, life on the road doesn’t permit such luxuries; so a map from the tourist bureau, Wikipedia and Google it is. This is what I have learnt so far: - Forty-five million turkeys are eaten each Thanksgiving; - Turkeys’ heads change colors when they become excited; - A turkey's brain is about the size of a walnut and it is said to have fewer brain cells than a cockroach. Hmmm. It appears that the solitary life of Internet cafes and hotel rooms has not satisfied my scholarly needs. I really can get easily distracted, what with all the fabulous sights & sounds. So, in addition to the boring hours in front of the laptop, I have taken to the streets to make my own discoveries. Not only will I be able to dazzle my future passengers with my historical understanding of this colourful country, but I will also be able to share first-hand knowledge of the customs and cultures within. This is what I have learnt so far: Pt2 1) In Turkey, staring is not considered to be rude, but asking “what the fuck are you staring at?” is apparently frowned upon; 2) A stranger will offer to drink tea with you at least 70 times a day. With or without a carpet salesman, 10-20 cups of tea will be consumed before you hit the pillow; 3) 93% of daily conversations will echo these words: (SCBMHG – sometimes creepy, but mostly harmless guy; ME – well, me) SCBMHG – Ola! (Apparently I'm Spanish in these parts) ME – (smile & continue walking) SCBMHG – OLLLLLAAAAAA! ME – Ola – (accompanied by a small grin) SCBMHG – How are you? ME – ben iyeyim, teshekkular (I'm fine, thanks) SCBMHG – oh – you speak Turkish?! ME – a little, I'm learning (modest tilt of the head) SCBMHG – where are you from? ME – I'm Australian SCBMHG – Australian? ME – yes, Australian SCBMHG – Australian?! Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! Oi! Oi! Oi! ME: please don’t do that SCBMHG: Australian?! ME: yes. Australian SCBMHG : are you married? ME: married? No, im not married. SCBMHG: OK drink some tea with me please 4) 6% of conversations will involve the selling of carpets; 5) The only way to avoid conversation relating to marital status (or virtue) is to invent a husband. Failing this (some men are not discouraged)…mention that your husband is Greek.; 6) 10-20 cups of tea per day will ultimately result in numerous bathroom stops; 7) 1% of conversations will echo the words “excuse me, could you please tell me where the nearest toilet is? At the risk of playing favourites because it’s the last place ive been – Turkey is seriously bloody fabulous. Sure the people are friendly. The food is fabulous & there’s plenty of it. And yes, the natural wonders are phenomenal. But what gives appeals to me the most are the little things… • Trips last more than a few hours on a coach will have a waiter on them. So, if you are so inclined between naps & reading trashy mags, tea/coffee/water/juice will be brought to you by a well mannered, uniformed young man, accompanied by a yummy packaged cake. • Apart from the usual domestic animals and those ready for slaughter, it is common enough in Central Anatolia to come a cross a big, furry, humped dromedary. For those of you unfamiliar, It’s basically a camel, but a Turkish version – darker & hairier. Hehehe. I can’t pass one of these things without going into hysterics! Seriously, some animals are just too funny. • Old ladies and men selling pigeon food outside mosques, and in marketplaces. Enough said. • The lovely suprise of wandering through a city street and seeing a tortoise walking along. Brilliant. • Getting sunburnt in an instant, then rugging up in a jacket & scarf that same day. • Disappointing each Turk I meet when disclosing that im not Spanish. Or Turkish. Oooh – exotic. • Being offered an ‘evil eye’ pendant by people throughout the day • Frequent molestation by random grandma’s who think nothing of jovially patting/rubbing/slapping my face and chatting away. Friendly, but ouch! I have added some pics – and have a few different ones existing on my Facebook profile (more locals, and some food pics) Check them out ☺ Hoping that you are well. Mwaaaaaaaa xox rose http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/18672.aspx Travel Turkey turkey and beyond rose_babic http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/18672.aspx#comments http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/18672.aspx Tue, 6 May 2008 06:20:00 GMT 4 Packing for an all-season European trip is tricky. Preparing to sustain reasonable fashion credibility however, appeared to be a bigger challenge. Dressing out of a backpack in Malaysia was easy – pretty, girly, summery things pack down neatly in a teeny bundle, allowing sufficient space for various-coloured sandals, strappy heels & an unused pair of sneakers. My plans of treading the pavements of London as a sexy foreigner, were recently lost in vein. Not only did I lack variety, but the temperature just wouldn’t allow for any coordination what-so-ever. Donning the streets in as many layers as possible did not do me any favours. Seriously – its fucking cold here. Jealous of the ladies in their vintage gear and familiarity of climate, i took occassioanl refuge in playing my favourite game – give-that-dork-a-makeover. For those of you unfamiliar, this game involves sitting down with a latte (2 sugars) and mentally addressing woman as they walk past. It is a terrible activity, I know -and the irony isn’t lost: believe me. I hope to mature enough one day so that such adolescent behaviour is beneath me, but for now its keeps me happy, so im sticking with it! The challenge of the game is to address a woman’s current style with swift delicacy, so as to ‘makeover’ the next victim walking by ASAP. Often, the hardest part is finding contestants. Having spent a good deal of my time in east London however, all was not lost. This funky spot is home to random bars, vintage boutiques, and women that sound like Ali-G. Needless to say, some of my best work to date was done in these parts. Most commonly, all-event attire on these gals include beaded tracksuits, sneakers or boots and some creative bling. Awesome. The biggest atrraction for me was skinny black jeans. Given the right ensemble, this harmless garment is a no-fuss basic. In the wrong hands, however …deadly. Many an hour was spent un-bogan-ing unknowing pedestrians, in the comfort of my flared denims, and veiled hypocracy. Until the rains came. Bloody rain! Unknowingly, my own jeans were too long and it took no time for the elongated fabric to absorb the puddles beneath and add to the already-freezing conditions. Damn! Game over. What I had failed to appreciate up until now, was the practicality of the skinny-jeans. This body-hugging couture keeps the cold out, and at ankle length, remains steadily away from the ground. How did I get it so wrong? A few days of wearing leggings, and whining from the pain of it all, I went shopping with a mate for warmer attire. The result? Bloody skinny black jeans. Harbouring my Croat arrogance, I refused to let the obvious twist in fate defeat me, and have since continued on my merry way. Having tricked my internal-critique thus far, I remained content in my purchase, so long as i avoided any mirrors, photos or meeting of familiar faces…until bogan-jean karma slapped me in the face! Or ass rather. Unlike the women I crudely redressed – who most likely chose their jeans with care – I bought the cheapest pair available. A week later, I spent a painful half hour scrubbing black dye from my waist down. On reflection, I should have remorse for my bitchy antics. Apart from the obvious: 1: such immaturity wont bring me any closer to enlightenment; 2: the ass-scrubbing probably wasn’t worth the momentary pleaure of my London give-that-dork-a-makeover sessions; & 3: the universe doesn’t like 'nasty'. Did I learn my lesson? Sure did: the universe won’t allow me to be a bogan – it really is as simple as that ☺ http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/17399.aspx Travel United Kingdom turkey and beyond rose_babic http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/17399.aspx#comments http://journals.worldnomads.com/rose_babic/post/17399.aspx Fri, 4 Apr 2008 21:26:00 GMT 3