Croatian Riviera

I spent last week on the Dalmatian coast in Croatia and can affirm what all the travel magazines say is true -- in summer, this area is one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

I started my trip by staying up all night in Istanbul to make a 6:40 AM flight (ugh), but despite being slightly out of sorts the journey was all worth it when I touched down in the sunny coastal town of Split. Seeing the town nestled between mountains and sea, I was happy to have had the window seat for this flight.

I took the bus to the center city, walked along the marble boardwalk along the harbor (the "Riva"), and found my hostel nearby. After checking in I met a girl transiting through the town briefly on her way home to Australia, and we headed out together to find one of the beaches near town.

The beaches in Croatia are almost all rocky, but with every day seeming to have perpetual sunshine and dry heat no one seemed to mind. The sea water was somewhat mild near Split, but this would not be true further south.

After swimming the two of us grabbed dinner and took a tour of pubs in the Split old town, sampling Croatian beers Karlovacko and Ozujsko and also the Slovenian beer Lasko Zlatorog. Ozujsko is a little bitter for my taste but I enjoyed the other two. Croatians like their beer -- you sometimes even see people with beers in the morning, sitting and sipping in outdoor cafes or parks. It's cheap too. Unless you're in a tourist bar (and hence being overcharged) you can expect to pay 20 Croatian kuna (about $3.50) for 0.5L of the local draft brew. Delightful!

My new Australian friend was gone the next day as I explored the old town of Split on my own. It's compact, very walkable, and very clean. By far the most prominent feature of Split is Diocletian's Palace, built by a Roman emporer as a place for him to retire. After 1500 years most of its former glory has been lost, but you still see some cool archways and the bell tower is a nice climb -- not for those with a fear of heights!

The rest of my Wednesday was pretty lazy. You can see the Italian influences in Split all over. I spent the day eating pizza, sitting in one of Split's ubiquitous outdoor cafes drinking coffee, and dined on a cuttlefish risotto for dinner. I like how you can just sit indefinitely in a restaurant or cafe after the meal is over without being bothered -- actually getting a bill can be difficult!

To burn some calories, I hiked Marjan Hill, a protected bit of green space near the city. It gives quite a view. In the evening I found some more cheap beer, watched the World Cup semifinal, and finished off with some tasty cheap ice cream.

On Thursday morning I caught a catamaran bound for Hvar town. Croatia's coast is dotted with islands and I wanted to sample a couple.

Hvar is even more beautiful than Split...a fancy harbor with an awesome hilly backdrop and all sorts of fancy yachts docked in the harbor. Other travelers described it as a mini Monte Carlo.

I had booked a bed in "Villa Skansi" on Hostel World and expected the place to be a little beach shack, but in fact the name did not lie. The house was like something out of Beverly Hills! I couldn't believe that $25 could get me something so luxurious, or a terrace with a view.

After lunch I spent my afternoon partaking in a great European tradition...sunbathing! On Hvar you take your beach towel and lay it on your favorite rock, hopefully one which fits the contours of your back. If you get too hot you can plunge into the chilly water, but beware for sea urchins!

It's interesting how different attitudes are between Europeans and Chinese regarding sun exposure. Europeans can't get enough of the sun, and will lay interminably until turning the color of a lobster. On the other hand, on a sunny day in Shanghai you would see an array of umbrellas burst out, protecting the porcelain complexions of its citizens. The girl from Hong Kong who I met in Dubai even had a "whitening cream" which she used on her face in the evening!

My night in Hvar started with dinner, more ice cream, then some time staring at all the yachts in the harbor. Rumor has it that Eva Longoria was on one of them, and someone staying at my villa claimed to have spotted her at the disco the night before.

I returned to the villa for evening drinks on the terrace and met a group of Australian expats living in London. We left for a big night out which ended at the aforementioned disco, a massive outdoor party lounge situated in a medieval castle. Quite the party spot, but don't arrive before 2AM!

After a late night it was hard to awaken to check out of the villa on Friday. I booked onward ferries, took a long breakfast at the harbor with the Australians, then headed up the hill to a fortress atop the hill overlooking the town. There was nothing in the fort, but there didn't need to be as it possessed a fantastic view of the harbor and the nearby hills.

After some more time in the endless sun I took a late afternoon catamaran to the small town of Korcula, alleged to be the birthplace of Marco Polo. His house no longer stands here but a tower has been erected in its place, and of course no trip to Korcula is complete without visiting the Marco Polo store!

Korcula is small but I wasn't staying there long, using it as a transit point to the city of Dubrovnik on the southern end of the long Croatian coast. The ride on the automobile ferry was much slower but equally scenic. I spent three hours sipping a beer while gazing at the hills shooting out of the sea.

In Dubrovnik I was greeted at the ferry port by a big friendly Croatian named Ante, whose guesthouse I had booked for two nights. More expensive than a hostel but totally worth it. My room was both luxurious and spotless, and Ante spent a thorough 15 minutes explaining to me everything to do in the old city.

Ante gave me a ride to the Dubrovnik old city and wow, what a sight! It's exactly my vision when I think of a medieval fortress. Stationed on a cliff overlooking the Adriatic, the imposing walls make every visitor stare and take notice.

Dubrovnik is far more touristy than Split, and for good reason. Nothing against the latter, but Dubrovnik is simply amazing. Even after sustaining a Serbian shelling in the 1991 Croatian war of independence, the old city remains remarkably well-preserved, or at least reconstructed. The inside of the city hums with tourists, and I found Americans! "Semester at Sea" was in port that weekend, so 740 college kids were in town. After traveling for so long out of the homeland, I actually wasn't saddened to see a few.

I cruised the streets for awhile then ascended a long flight of stairs to walk around the city walls. This is a must-do if you ever visit Dubrovnik...the views can't be beat.

Circumnavigating the city took about 90 minutes, getting me to dinner time. After so much climbing I had worked up a serious appetite, and I downed a whole pizza and a big salad. A meal fit for two, but hey, sometimes I try to play the part of fat American!

Saturday evening marked the beginning of the Dubrovnik Summer Festival, a 6 week celebration of the performing arts. That night the streets of the old city were teeming with police to protect the dignitaries attending the opening ceremonies. I did not pull enough rank to get a ticket, but I did get outside the city walls in time to see the celebratory fireworks display. After missing 4th of July in the US I'm glad I didn't go a whole summer without seeing some! I finished my night by listening to some of the live Croatian music.


Sunday was another easy day. Ate a little too much at a portside seafood restaurant, then visited the small green island of Lokrum to walk off the meal. It's a peaceful island with no inhabitants, no cars, and a few peacocks. At the top of the island was a small fort with a decent view of the old city. I walked back down and past several beaches, including a nudist one! I did not partake, but I found a different rock nearby in the sun.

In the evening I found a seat in the Buniceva Poljana square to watch the World Cup final, Spain vs Holland. There were far more supporters for the red side than the orange, and it felt like the old city was a giant Spanish pep rally! Bars surround the square and with plenty of TVs the square was packed with soccer fans. Bedlam ensued when the Spaniards scored their late goal to win the trophy. The Spanish victory cheer rang throughout the city -- "Campiones! Campiones! Ole Ole Ole!"

Croatia was absolutely wonderful. I barely saw a cloud over six warm days and the Croatian people were very welcoming. It would have made for a brilliant end to my trip and I'm ready for home now, but I can hang in for more week. Who knows, maybe Spain will be equally amazing.

Table for one?

Several people have asked me if I'm bothered by travelling alone. For the most part, travelling alone is great -- you get to set the agenda, the pace you want to travel, the budget. You're not building a consensus with anyone and no one's feelings ever get hurt. You are the decider.

But it sometimes isn't as great. Though you're slightly more vulnerable when traveling alone, few things have struck fear in me. There's one big exception, however -- the nightly ritual of walking up to a sit-down restaurant and asking the hostess, "Table for one?"

You see, traveling doesn't need to be a social activity. Sure it can be a lot of work to get decent pictures in your camera which actually have you in them, or maybe you walk around for several hours without actually talking to anyone.

But, see, dining is a social activity, especially dinner. Few things bring people together better than food and drink. You can't avoid making time for it, so you might as well share the time with other people. This principle is ingrained in just about every culture worldwide.

Breakfast can be as easy as a takeaway pastry and lunch can be a simple sandwich or a la carte entree. These meals can be taken casually and the solo diner feels welcome.

But dinner is different. In the US it's the big meal of the day, and though other cultures sometimes focus on lunch I haven't adopted this mentality -- takes too much time away from seeing things during the day.

Sometimes in big cities, you can slip into a takeaway restaurant, saving your wallet and preventing social awkwardness. In tourist destinations, where the locals tend to eat at home, you're forced to dive in somewhere less accommodating.

There's a method to finding an appropriate dining destination for the solo diner. Fancy restaurants just aren't worth the splurge. From the restaurants that are left, you don't want to sit in a place that is empty. Though the restaurant staff should be grateful for your presence (they usually aren't), the silence is deafening, and you have lowered yourself to a restaurant that no one else deemed worthy of patronage.

The key is to find a restaurant that is moderately full, but has ample spare capacity such that you're not feeling guilty about partially utilizing a 2 person table. Unless you're really splurging the solo diner is worth less to the restaurant than a couple, and if you're preventing a couple from sitting down the restaurant is looking to churn you out of there.

You also need to beware for what I will call "the Valentine's Day effect". You know that feeling women tend to get on V-Day when they realize they're not in a relationship, and therefore aren't receiving dinner or chocolates or flowers or anything nice? If you're in a restaurant with young couples at candlelit tables, and you're just the solo diner...not a good place to be. That chair across from you is shouting its emptiness at you, and your PDA radar amplifies several notches. You try hard to keep your chin up, hope no one notices your solitude, and end the meal as soon as you're no longer in need of sustenance.

Dinnertime is one of the few situations where I have welcomed the street hawker. If a restaurant is begging for my token business as a solo diner, they have saved me the awkwardness of asking for a table. Not my fault if I'm boxing out that party of 4 at the door.

I'm perfectly content with myself and not one to get lonely, and traveling hasn't changed that. So save for dinnertime, or perhaps the occasional evening when you want to visit that "it" nightclub you read about in your travel guide, there aren't too many times when solo traveling is a problem. And you do meet people, especially staying in hostels, meaning not every night will be uncomfortable.

Istanbul, not Constantinople

Why did Constantinople get the works? That's nobody's business but the Turks...do do doo...doo doo do do do do...

Aside from letting myself fall for a tourist scam (read scam posting as I won't recount here) Istanbul was a lovely, exciting city. Though my trip there was tainted, I did end on a good note.

I arrived at Ataturk International Airport on Thursday evening and after bearing a long queue at passport control and a longer, nerve-wracking wait for my backpack at baggage claim, I took the bus to Taksim Square, the heart of today's Istanbul. My first observation was that it's REALLY HARD to find your way around. There are almost no signs naming streets, and even with a map it still took me an hour to find my hostel. And this only happened because of the kindness of a local who, seeing me with a backpack looking bewildered, pointed me in the right direction.


I was staying at the Stray Cat hostel, very appropriately named as there seem to be outdoor cats everywhere in Istanbul. I've never seen anything like it. Dogs are far less popular with the Turks and are far outnumbered by the cats. My hostel owner had three cats of his own and they would roam free on the streets with all the other cats when they weren't sleeping on the hostel couches. If you have a cat hair allergy, you may want to stock up on Benadryl before visiting Istanbul.

I started Friday with a really delicious and free Turkish breakfast at my hostel -- Nutella, bread, yogurt with sweet jam, tomatoes, cheese, and these devilishly good spinach pastries. I then caught the tram to the old city.

Much like Rome, Istanbul is a very old and historically important city. It was the capital of the eastern part of the Roman empire for almost 1000 years before being captured by the Turks and becoming the capital of the Ottoman Empire. As the only city in the world which physically spans two continents (Europe and Asia) it also serves as a meeting point between Christianity and Islam.

I started at the Aya Sofya, a place which perhaps best epitomizes this blend of religious traditions. Built by the Byzantines in the 6th century, this was the largest cathedral in the world for several hundred years, then in Ottoman days was hastily converted into a mosque. After Ataturk's secular revolution in the 1920's and 30's, the mosque was converted into a museum and is now open to the public.

Aya Sofya was impressively huge, and is very old, but I don't think is nearly as impressive as St. Peter's at the Vatican. It does contain some interesting Christian mosaics, uncovered by archaeologists as the Ottomans covered them in plaster, but they look a little sad as at first glance it looks like they are falling apart.

I then headed to the nearby Blue Mosque, a more recently-built and still active house of worship. It takes the name from the blue tiles which decorate it's interior. Unlike Malaysian and Emirati mosques, those in Istanbul are more open to receiving visitors outside of prayer times. The mosque is really cool looking from afar but not spectacular on the inside, though pretty good. I didn't get much time there as I snuck in just before Friday mass (the Islamic holy day) and was soon kicked out.

Next to all this are the Yerebatan Sarnici, cisterns used for filtering and storing water underground during the Roman times. Contains rows and rows of Roman columns underground, with enormous carp swimming around under your feet. Also a nice temperature drop as you descend. Pretty neat thing to see.

After lunch I visited the Topkapi Palace, the home of the Ottoman sultans for 400 years. Topkapi Palace was underwhelming on the inside, but the gardens in the courts were very nice, and I got my first great view of the Bosphorus. Does contain several items belonging to historical religious figured including a sword belonging to the Islamic prophet Muhammed.

I walked from there to the Suleymaniye Mosque, supposedly very impressive on the inside but closed for restoration. Again, despite having a map this was very hard to find, and I mostly navigated by using the sun as a compass. On my walk I took in the delights of Istanbul street food. There's an abundance of vendors selling corn on the cob and these rings of bread covered in sesame seeds. Neither are amazing but both make very good and cheap snacks while walking about.

In the evening I watched the World Cup matches and ate at a good kabob place on Istiklal Caddesi in Taksim. This area is a really cool pedestrian street and with neighboring side streets seems to stretch on forever, and is packed with Istanbulites out for a night on the town. I would have loved to settle in with a traditional Turkish water pipe but being alone this didn't seem like an option.


On Saturday morning, I headed to the ferry docks to catch a cruise of the Bosphorus Strait. The boat trip takes you north from the city, almost to the Black Sea. I recommend this as a must-do if you visit Istanbul. The trip north takes about 90 minutes and Istanbul's hilly landscape dotted with mansions and mosques overlooking the coastline.


Rather than waiting around three hours for the return boat trip to the city, I boarded a bus back to town, getting off in the Besiktas neighborhood so I could walk along the coastline. For lunch I ate a traditional Turkish "kumpir", a big baked potato. I ordered mine stuffed with all the fixings, including ham, pickles, corn, radishes, ketchup, and spices. A ton of food and I felt comatose afterwards.


I spent a couple hours from there walking along the coastline, taking in the lovely waterfront on a perfect summer weekend afternoon. Reached most of the districts along the coastline -- Besiktas, Ortakoy (which has a gorgeous little mosque by the water), Kurucesme, Arnavutkoy, and Bebek. They appeared to be the wealthy suburbs of Istanbul -- lots of nice cars and cafes. Many people were out fishing or walking around. Really relaxing.

The two suspension bridges crossing the Bosphorous are also really cool to look at. Not quite as great as the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco but still picturesque. It's no surprise that the most famous nightclubs in Istanbul are placed underneath the first bridge, with a view.


There's a lot of national pride in Turkey. I saw the red Turkish flag with its crescent moon and star flying everywhere along the water and on boats. I think there's even more flags here than in the US, a place more patriotic than most. Also a lot of statues and images of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, the founder of modern Turkey in the 1920s. When I tired from walking I drank an Efes beer at an outdoor pub -- a large picture of Ataturk staring at me from the window.

So my visit was going quite well until Saturday night, which was of course quite the painful buzzkill. You can read about it below but needless to say I wasn't much in the mood for being a tourist on Sunday.


To break up my day of walking between police stations I walked to the Galata Tower for a view of Istanbul. There was also a movie crew outside the tour filming some Turkish film, hopefully Oscar-worthy.


Sunday evening was far better. A few Australians at my hostel insisted I go out with them, as I needed to celebrate my country's independence. Feeling better safety in a group but still on guard, we headed back to the Istiklal Caddesi nightlife area and sat down at a cleverly named bar, Beer House, for some 50 ml glasses of the local Efes beer. It was packed for a Sunday and tons of fun. There was a Turkish band playing and locals out of their seats dancing. We also tried some of the mussels that we saw other tables eating -- delicious! Shells were stuffed with rice and if you see a street vendor in Istanbul selling "midye" you should definitely give them a try.

On Monday morning at the hostel breakfast I met Borge and Linn, a couple of self-proclaimed social activists who claimed they were trying to brainwash me with their "Socialist propaganda". Nevertheless, we became friends and decided to head out together for a day at the Princes Islands, in the Strait of Marmara off the coast of the Asia side. So we took a bus from Europe to Asia (!) and from there boarded a ferry for the islands.


The islands were gorgeous! We had such a great day out there. Linn had a Turkish friend to show us around named Hikmet, who spoke fluent English (uncommon in Turkey) and insisted that I was a doppelgänger for someone from his Anatolian hometown named Seljuk. I figured with my green eyes that I wouldn't fit in Turkey but Hikmet said no one would believe me if I claimed to be American.

We disembarked on the Burgaz Adasi island and it was terrificly quiet as there are no automobiles allowed, but plenty of horse taxis! We walked around and picked wild plums along the road. Lots of big, beautiful homes on the cliffs overlooking the water, the second home escapes for Istanbul's wealthy. Taking in the view of Istanbul we headed to a small rocky beach, rented some chairs, and sat down. Water was very cold for swimming!

After the Norwegians got their fair share of sun we went for soda and tea, then caught a ferry to the Asia side. The boat was flocked to by seagulls used to being thrown bed by the ferry riders, some even catching the bread flying in midair. Not good for Borge, who has a fear of birds! (blame Alfred Hitchcock)

When we landed in the Kadikoy district our destination was a restaurant called Ciya, renouned for bringing the tastes of eastern Turkey to Istanbul. Even our Turkish friend didn't know all the plates we were eating, but they were all delicious. A great meal. We finished the night with a water pipe (nargile) and Hikmet taught us how to play backgammon, a game the Turks love to play in pubs and cafes.

So my trip to Istanbul ended well and I made some new friends along the way. It's a fine city and you'll stay safe there if you exercise common sense.

Dubai - My Introduction to the Middle East

After leaving Malaysia, I spent three days in Dubai, the Middle East's new big thing, wanting to see what all the fuss was about.

Originally I had wanted to see several places in the Middle East...Israel, Jordan, Egypt perhaps. But I wasn't eager to thrust myself alone into a region that could be dangerous for an American, so I decided to just make a quick stopover to a city that sits conveniently on the path between Southeast Asia and Europe.

Dubai thrust itself onto the world stage over the last decade. Fueled by flush oil revenues and easy credit, the city plunged into a building spree which was ambitious even by Shanghai standards. Also having an old colleague there to visit, I wanted to see if Dubai had reached the level of a great international city.

Flying in late on Monday evening, I noticed different dress standards from Malaysia. Emirati men mostly wear a traditional white cloth with a black ring circling the head and leather sandals. These days the look has been modernized by cellphone earpieces -- it seems that Emirati men are constantly talking on their mobile devices. Almost all Emirati women wear black robes, many with face veils, but this is simply a cultural distinction and not a religious one. Islamic law only states that women should be dressed modestly, but does not specify color or even how much of a woman's body must be covered. Hence, though Malaysian women looked far different in their colored headscarves and jeans, and Malaysian men dressed similarly to Westerners, both cultures are in conformance with Islamic standards.

On Tuesday I set the alarm so I could attend a 10AM tour of the Jumeriah Mosque, perhaps Dubai's finest. It also is unusual in that it allows nonbelievers to visit four times a week for information sessions sponsored by the Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding.

The session proved to be a good "Islam 101" for uneducated people like myself. We learned about the five pillars of Islam and the timing of the five daily prayers (this explains why I was awakened nightly by a man singing at 4AM) and learned about what goes into the act of praying itself. Though I remain a novice in all things religious, including Christianity, I appreciate learning more about these traditions as I feel it does help bridge cultural gaps.

I made a friend at the mosque who was transiting in the opposite direction, from London to Hong Kong, and we spent the afternoon checking off some must-sees and commenting on how unusual a city Dubai is.

From the mosque, we taxied to Dubai Mall, an incredible shopping palace. Dubaians love to shop. They need air conditioned places to congregate to escape the brutal heat, and they seem to have enormous amounts of disposable income to fritter away.

The Dubai Mall is unlike any I have ever seen. It's unquestionably the largest mall I've ever visited, the size of a small city, containing an aquarium, a waterfall, and every Western brand imaginable. Dubai Mall is a place for people-watching, and you quickly see that Dubai is not very Arab at all -- it's very expat heavy.

Walking the mall and grabbing lunch easily occupied several hours. From there my new friend and I walked outside to get our first view of the Burj Khalifa, the new tallest building of the world. It's so tall that I couldn't even photograph the whole thing on my camera! Looking across the pond which contains the Dubai Fountain, you see the skeletons of unfinished buildings. The global financial crisis has hit Dubai particularly hard, and it's possible that some of these buildings will become carcasses of the recent worldwide speculative binge.

From there we visited Jumeriah Beach, from which one can view Dubai's most iconic building, the Burj al-Arab, the "world's first 7-star hotel". Shaped like a sail, the hotel does look rather attractive, though with all the heat and humidity it was rather difficult to photograph.

My new friend and I went separate ways at the Mall of the Emirates, another grand shopping mecca. However, though it would make a fine mall in the US, even bigger and better than Tysons Corner Center, it looks shabby compared with the Dubai Mall. This second mall does contain one big asset though, Ski Dubai, a 60 meter tall indoor snow hill in the desert!!

After walking around the "boring mall" of the two, I met my old work colleague Marwan Chaar for tea in the financial district. To all my old DC Energy colleagues, Marwan says hi, he is doing rather well for himself these days.

My busy Tuesday finished with a solo dinner at the Madinat Jumeriah, a fancy dining/shopping/residential community near the Burj al-Arab. I had a decent meal but the highlight was getting to hold a man's trained falcon! Though I had a fear the large hunting bird would peck my face off, it was very well-behaved. A professional photographer took my picture and I'll see if I can later scan it into the blog.

On Wednesday I decided to test my luck by walking through the Dubai heat. I bought a 1.5 liter bottle of water and set off for the Bastikaya, the old city of Dubai near my hotel. Even in the morning the outside was a true sauna. Sweat dripped from every pore in the 100+ degree heat. Exfoliating!

The Bastikaya was a ghost town, as only a foolish tourist like me would even consider taking a look around. Nothing to see there but empty white sandstone buildings.

From there I walked along Dubai Creek to the Old Souk, a sleepy textile market in the shade (thank goodness), and then darted in and out of the shade to the Sheikh Saeed Al Maktoum residence. The shiekh was ruler for nearly 50 years and just before Dubai uncovered its oil. I got to see a lot of Dubai as it used to be, and before air conditioning I can assure you that the summers were not pleasant!

I tried walking from the palace to Dubai Museum, but I just wasn't going to make it. Thankfully there are cabs everywhere in Dubai who slow down and honk at anyone they see walking (because who really would choose to walk in that heat). After a short ride I was able to take in all the exhibits, including a living replica of an old Dubai village and, more importantly, some great air conditioning.

Slightly refreshed, I walked to lunch at Marwan's favorite Iranian kabob place. The food was delicious and inexpensive and I felt really full afterwards.

Already slightly incapacitated by the heat and now in food coma, I retreated to my hotel room for a nap. When I arose, I taxied back to Dubai Mall to see the evening show at the Dubai Fountain. It's like the Las Vegas Bellagio fountain on steroids...huge and the water dances to Arabic music.

I finished at the Burj Khalifa, which at 160 stories is by far the tallest building in the world. Just finished in January 2010 so the viewing deck in brand spanking new. Flying up the elevator at 2 floors/second to the mere height of floor 124, I was expecting an amazing view of the city just after sunset.

There is a really cool outdoor section where you can actually stick your hand out and drop your camera 30 stories! The indoor view was quite disappointing, however, as the glare of the lights means you really can only see cars travelling down the Sheikh Zayed Road strip. Even during the day you're too far away to view the Palm islands in the Persian Gulf, the thing I had really wanted to see. Check them out instead on Google Earth.

Dubai is a really bizarre place. The comparisons with Las Vegas are not entirely inaccurate -- both are cities of excess that appear to sprout unnaturally out of the desert -- but there certainly distinctions. For one thing, the UAE adheres fairly rigidly to Islamic law, so you're best off avoiding public displays of affection or stumbling around on the streets after too much time at the pub. I didn't find any casinos in Dubai and light sleepers like me are awakened nightly by the pre-sunrise call to prayer.

Also there's a harsh caste system that you notice almost immediately. First you have the Emiratis, less than 30% of the population but with all the power. They all seem to live off trust funds and many appear to live lives of leisure. Then you have the Western expats, all there on temporary contracts probably, pulling in a healthy living consulting to the Emiratis and not paying income taxes on their wages. Then far below the Westerners are the people driving the taxis, constructing the buildings, actually doing the hard work to run the city, mostly Indians or Filipinos. The difference between groups two and three is stark, though immigrants from south Asia are still flooding in at such a rate that the UAE now enforces immigration quotas. So it can't be all bad for them, but unlike Asia where you're not supposed to tip at all, I tipped more American-style in Dubai (we are known for being notoriously generous).

Dubai reeks with nouveau riche decadence. Mercedes and BMW all over and more than your fair share of Maserati, Bentley, and Ferrari. Every luxury brand on earth in the malls -- they love their Armani. In my limited time in Dubai, I couldn't figure out whether these stores survived on expats who wanted a slice of home or by Emiratis with a serious bit of Euro-envy.

Fifty years ago, Dubai was just a speck in the Gulf region, a little village of pearl divers and date farmers. Then oil came and changed everything. The people in charge had the foresight to realize that the oil would run out quickly, so they took an "if we build it they will come" approach to building a city. Get the expats in, make them feel comfortable, and build some hype.

So they put up a lot of tall buildings and drew in some companies with the lure of zero taxation. But the whole thing has a feeling of when the oil money runs out, the party will be over.

The global financial crisis dealt a serious blow to Dubai, and it needed to be bailed out by its oil-rich neighbor Abu Dhabi so it could pay the debts associated with all this new real estate. The dormant cranes now are really eerie, and the place has the feeling of a college frat party that just emptied its last keg of beer. I don't know that Dubai can recover from this -- there just doesn't seem to be anything sustainable about the city.

Scammed in Istanbul

I am an idiot. A complete idiot.

After seven weeks of resisting pickpockets and being on the alert for anyone trying to take my money, I let my guard down in Istanbul. Big mistake.

I'm too embarrassed to describe what happened to me, but let's say that I had too much to drink and exercised extremely poor judgment. The account here is accurate:

http://www.turkeytravelplanner.com/details/Safety/SingleMaleScams.html

My instinct of "pay and get the hell out of there" kept me out of harm's way, but I am now several hundred dollars lighter. I could have tried running, and definitely should have gotten out of there before I did. Oy, so embarrassing.

This all really took the air out of my balloon today. I went to the police station but of course there wasn't anything they could do. And on my walk home I saw a three-legged cat in the street. So sad.

At least nothing more came of it (and I have been triple checking my bank account and credit cards today to make sure). Still in excellent health and am not carrying anything home with me except a lesson learned the hard way.

Happy birthday America! Or what the Turks call "Sunday". I hope you all are safely enjoying the fireworks and barbecues. Two weeks to go on my trip, and I really miss home now.

Please be smarter than me. I know you are.

Malaysia -- Truly Asia??

My 24 day tour of Asia ended in Malaysia, the country south of Thailand and north of Singapore.

Courtesy of AirAsia, a terrific budget airline in the region, I flew directly into the capital city of Kuala Lumpur, or KL as the locals like to call it. It's a sprawling city as evidenced by the 50 mile bus ride from airport to city center, with cookie-cutter suburban developments laid out all over.

Back on the hostel circuit after six days in an island resort, I navigated KL's light rail network to my lodging in the city center. I met my new roommates, a Korean guy and a Taiwanese girl, both fresh from "working holidays" in Australia, and we all headed out to KL's jewel, the Petronas Towers. These mammoth structures briefly were the world's tallest, displacing Chicago's Sears Tower (or whatever it's called now). They are an inspiring architectural feat, particularly at night, and Malaysians are rightfully proud to have these as a national symbol.

We walked from there to one of KL's bevy of expat bars in the Golden Triangle area. I ate my first pizza in several weeks as we watched Italy be dealt a shock World Cup defeat.

It was quickly apparent that I was in the first Islamic nation on my trip. Most ethnic Malay women don the traditional headscarves, and there were a dearth of locals in all the bars I visited due to the religion's prohibition on alcohol. Beers were also quite expensive, I suspect due to heavy taxation.

However, despite my hostel being near a large mosque, I didn't hear a call to prayer, but I did hear the bells of a church nearby! In fact, KL has a surprising number of churches. The Chinese and Indian minorities seem to get on just fine, and by all outward appearances the Muslim and non-Muslim worlds appeared delightfully integrated in Malaysia.

On Friday, I took a day trip to Malacca, home of a 15th century trading empire that declined after falling to the Portuguese. Armed only with an Internet printout of important sights which declared, "YOU MUST VISIT THESE PLACES TO RELIVE THE HISTORY," I found my way to the KL bus depot for a 2.5 hour bus ride which only cost $4!

I took a cab to the historic city center and acclimated myself with the area. After finding the important sights...Portuguese church, Dutch fort, English burial ground...I felt very underwhelmed by it all. Took me maybe an hour and I felt I had seen everything.

I walked down the old Jonker Road and found the traditional nasi lemak dish for lunch (for $3; food can be unbelievably cheap in Malaysia!). Pretty good except for some rather unappealing seafood crispy things. Afterwards I made my way down Harmony Street, so named as it has a Chinese Buddhist temple, a Hindu temple, and a large mosque! Nice area. Finished up at a remake of Malacca's sultan palace, containing lots of mannequins dressed in the traditional garbs of Malaysia's many states.

On Saturday morning the person manning the hostel desk urged me to check out a traditional Malaysian house-moving ceremony. Legend has it that a man a long time ago wanted to move but didn't want to leave his house; hence, he had his house lifted onto scaffolding and moved down the street. This time the event was staged by an artist as part of an urban festival, and the house was a shell, easily lifted by 50 people or so.

Logistically this wasn't well-planned at all. At one point, the house-moving route took the group to a pedestrian bridge which didn't provide clearance for the house. Oops. I watched this to the end but didn't stay for the arts festival, instead finding a meal of mutton biryani with a delicious yoghurt.

I took a nice long afternoon nap to gear myself up for the US-Ghana match, another 2:30 AM kickoff woohoo! I joined two newcomers at the hostel, another American and an Irishman, for dinner in Chinatown followed by the game in the Jalan Bukit Bintang nightlife strip. We found an Irish bar, naturally, and proceeded to drink heavily as the Americans lost a heartbreaker in extra time. Stumbled home around 5:30 AM local time, early enough to see runners heading to the starting line for the Sunday morning KL marathon! Why anyone would run 26 miles in that heat is beyond me.

I had a wicked hangover Sunday and wanted nothing to do with 90 degree heat and humidity. Finally feeling like myself around 2PM, I headed out with my two new friends to ascend KL Tower, the 5th tallest communications tower in the world. Terrific view of the sprawling KL city from the deck, worth every ringgit!!

We grabbed a late lunch then walked to KLCC (Kuala Lumpur City Center) to see the Petronas Towers in daylight. Still mighty impressive.

In the evening we grabbed another Chinatown dinner, then headed to Dataran Merdeka (Independence Square) to see Germany vs England projected on a big screen. Quite a good turnout on this public lawn and had a terrific view of the Frank Lampard goal that wasn't -- boy was England robbed!!

I had an evening flight to Dubai on Monday meaning I still had much of the day to explore KL. I headed slightly out of the city to view the Batu Caves, a huge geologic limestone formation of particular significance to the Hindu people. Really impressive place, and full of monkeys fed by the charity of tourists.

Overall I enjoyed Kuala Lumpur more than its close neighbor Singapore. Despite not being as developed and significantly dirtier, KL feels like a real, organically created city. Singapore feels like it is trying too hard, and I didn't enjoy the saccharine Pleasantville nature of the place. Though KL much better typifies the third world capital with its street trash and horrid traffic and disturbing cockroach infestation, at least the place didn't feel shrink-wrapped in plastic. I don't need to revisit KL but I am sad that I missed the famous cuisine from the Malaysian port town of Penang, so I may find my way to this part of the world again.

Phuket -- Beach Paradise or Banana Republic?

I spent the last six days in Phuket, Thailand, an island nicknamed "The Pearl of the Andaman Sea", in search of a rest stop on the halfway point of my global journey. Rest was found, though not in the way I expected.

I couldn't wait to get to Phuket. Singapore bored me and I needed to get away from city life. I had visions of long, idyllic sandy beaches with endless sunshine and beautiful days of laying down for cheap massages, breathing in sea air, and eating delicious Thai food.

And the journey started off alright. I arrived at a beautiful resort hotel up the hill (read: tsunami-proof) from the island's Karon Beach, and after a nap, a long shower, and a relaxing cup of tea, I sauntered down to the resort's restaurant for a feast at their wonderful buffet. I finished the night with 5 Chang beers as I watched the painful US-Slovenia World Cup match, and not able to take any more heart-wrenching excitement I dozed off for an early 11PM bedtime.

I woke up the next morning with a deep soreness in my neck and shoulders. This should have been my first sign of trouble, but instead I took it as a sign I needed my first cheap Thai massage! After digesting the resort breakfast buffet, I wandered down the hill to the beach road, and a 300 baht ($9 USD) 60-minute oil massage was easily found. I felt pretty good on the massage mat but not great afterwards. Using some twisted, unscientific logic I convinced myself that this must be my body's way of "releasing toxins" and I decided to recover by sitting at the resort pool drinking large bottles of water while catching up on my blog. I could not stop sweating in the tropical heat but at least I had a productive afternoon.

By evening, however, I felt awful. I stumbled down the hill for some cheap Pad Thai and a Coke (115 baht/$3.50 USD) and I stumbled back to my room for a night watching TV. At least I felt better after taking some Advil.

Sunday started better and I thought Saturday's malaise had passed. I went for another 300 baht body massage and walked along Karon Beach for awhile. Really beautiful, a couple miles long and not crowded. It's remarkable how Phuket has recovered from the 2004 tsunami. There's no sign of it's devastation anywhere; I couldn't even locate a memorial.

I tried working on the blog some more and reading a book, but I felt awful so I retreated to the air conditioned comfort of my room. I thought the cheap massages might be to blame, but I took my temperature and it was 99.8 degrees, so I think there was more to it than that. Just as a precaution, though, I decided on no more massages in Phuket! My evening ended with a poor Tom Yum Kai (hot chicken soup), some more Advil, and another early bedtime.

It may have been a mistake to come to Phuket during the rainy season, but I was promised at least that it wasn't typical for there to be rain for an entire day. Well, Monday proved the exception to the rule...nothing but rain for the entire day. And when it rains in Phuket, it pours. The day alternated between light rain and torrential downpour. Given that I had come here as a beach getaway, I didn't know what to do with my time. Plus a throbbing headache didn't help matters. It was a dull day of sitting indoors, reading, and wishing for the whole thing to be over.

Tuesday began without rain, and despite still not feeling my best I forced myself out of the resort after spending all of Monday hunkered down. My body's general malaise and the persistent rains had already shattered my dreams of cruising the island on a motorbike, snorkeling over pristine coral reefs, and riding longtail boats to remote uninhabited beaches. Instead I settled for taking the bus to Patong Beach, Phuket's most developed.

People might think that the US is overly capitalistic, and that everyone there is too focused on money, but these people probably have never been to Asia. Most places I've been here I feel that the people give me a quick glance, see that I'm a white person, and therefore view me as a big fat ATM. One needs to be very persistent here in saying "no" and avoiding eye contact with merchants as much as possible. Sometimes pretending that my English is poor helps, particularly with pushy tour operators -- they can't tell that I'm not German! Now certainly I have felt this effect in some places more than others but I've observed it in every destination. All these pushy marketers make me a bit homesick, as I long to once again walk along a sidewalk without being bothered.

The Patong Beach area had hawkers to the extreme. The whole road along the beach seemed to be an endless procession of trinket shop, massage, tailor, massage, restaurant, pirated DVDs, fake sunglasses, massage, etc. No, I really don't want a taxi. No tuk-tuk either. I like my sunglasses and my watch just fine, thank you. And ich bin sorry, I cannot go on your tour as my English is nicht so gut, I am German!

Plus Patong Beach itself was filled with litter. Lots of it. Even sitting on the beach didn't bring peace as the hawkers would just come to you. Patong is supposed to be "more lively" for the single man, but I'm really glad I didn't have my hotel there. The place was sketchy.

Back in the family-of-four haven of Karon Beach, I started feeling dreadful again. I hadn't enjoyed my lunch of Tom Yum Kung (hot shrimp soup), and I don't think the Tom Yum series of soups are for me.

After a great night's sleep, Wednesday started with sunshine and whatever ailed me had finally lifted. It was a wonderful day on the beach, enjoying the waves, a pineapple shake, watching wild beach dogs, and sun sun sun!

I finished my great day of laziness with a red snapper at a local restaurant. Unlike China the fish weren't swimming in tanks outside the restaurant, but I did get to pick my meal from an outdoor stand filled with snapper, lobster, crab, prawns, and squid. My fish emerged from the kitchen whole, fried in a heavy amount of garlic and onion, and stuffed with vegetables. Delicious! I will admit it was a little creepy eating a fish still with a head and an eye staring at me, but at least it was dead! Plus if you enjoy childishly playing with your food, making Flounder sing "Under the Sea" as you eat him, then it's a fun meal! Fortunately for the squeamish I don't have any photos of my feast.

I didn't get a chance that evening to see the US-Algeria match as bars in Phuket only have one TV and that TV was showing England, but the channel was changed as the US was celebrating Landon Donovan's amazing winner...I just missed it! What drama! I cannot wait for the Saturday match with Ghana, though it will make for another very late night in Asia, this time in Kuala Lumpur.