Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Istanbul (not Constantinople)

As most of you know, Emily made it here in time for my birthday. Although she was totally wiped out from the hell she went through getting here (you can ask her about it), she was kind enough to ignore her various aches and pains and party like a (much less annoying) frat boy with me. She even kept her spirits up in the hospital! Good times.

My summer here in Prague has been wonderful. It is one of the most enchanting cities in the world, with cheap enough beer to keep the enchantment going long after the first month. However, my time here is nearly at and end. On Tuesday, Emily and I will pack our things up, and jump on a train bound for Slovenia.

Slovenia???

That's right, Slovenia. Hmmm.... Yes, we are spending a fun-filled 2 weeks exploring all the unfortunate countries that have relatively recently been bombed to shit.

From Slovenia (which, to my knowledge, hasn't actually been bombed to shit recently), we are heading to Rijeka, Croatia, then heading down the Adriatic by ferry to Hvar, Korcula, and Dubrovnik, the pearl of the Adriatic. After a few sunny days in crystal clear waters, we're going off to Bosnia and Serbia to watch the people pick themselves up. What an interesting time to be in former Yugoslavia. Hundreds of thousands of buried landmines just waiting to be discovered.

From there, we'll be checking out good old Bulgaria, which probably ties Moldova for the coveted title of "European Countries Noboby Ever Thinks Of." And, at the end of the trip, we'll be crossing our final border for a while, from Europe into Asia, into Istanbul (not Constantinople), where we'll settle into a janky apartment somewhere down by the Bosphorous.

That's right, I'm not moving to Poland. The reasons? Simply, they're big fat liars. Er... Not the Polish in general (as far as I know), but rather the particular Poles who offered me a job. Well, at least, they were dishonest with me about several things, including work visas and the question of Emily's employment. However, a very kind lady in Istanbul, at the English Time franchise, offered us both reasonably decently paying jobs in Istanbul, and although we'll be working illegally there as well, I have it on good authority that no one really cares. Plus, we get a free trip to Bulgaria every three months for our visa run, where I've been assured that they do fry cheese.

I've got to run. A neurosurgeon is waiting for my supple, English-speaking tongue to instruct him. Ciao!