Wednesday - May 1, 2013
Ah...Wednesday, the day we were suppose to be going to Athens. Can I tell you just how bitter I feel about this? And how the bitterness grows and festers even though I've been home over a week? What's funny is that though I was disappointed (and severely pissed off) when I received the news, I was already so tired and stressed out that it didn't impact me much beyond the logistics of what I had to do for us to get through the next few days on the cruise. But oh, I'm so sad (and unhappy) that I didn't get to see Athens. What triggered this latest bout of bitterness? I was sitting in court today (always a good time to be bitter) and my judge, who coincidentally went on the exact same cruise as we did the week after - she was talking about Athens. And how she now knows why a marathon is 26 miles and 385 meters - because that's the distance between Marathon and Athens. That's the distance a Greek runner supposedly ran after the Battle of Marathon to let the Athenians know that they've successfully resisted the Persian invasion and were victorious. See, if I got to go to Athens, then I wouldn't have had to hear that from my judge (sob!), I would've learned that from a Greek tour guide as we walked around the Parthenon (double sob!). Anyway, despite my vast disappointment, I can't say that May 1st was a bad day. Why? Because we go to go to Ephesus on May 1st!
Fortunate for us, Ephesus Shuttle was able to shuffle their schedule and accommodate our arrival on May 1st instead of the 2nd as planned and we not only had a new air-conditioned van for the three of us, we also had our own personal tour guide to show us the sights - explaining not only its history, but its historical significance and impact on us today as well. Awesome! I lurve those kinds of guides. :)
We were in port by 7 am that day and our confirmation with Ephesus Shuttle indicated that they will be picking us up from port at 8 am. Considering that the Windjammer doesn't open until 7-7:30 for breakfast (varies from day to day) we decided to order room service instead. Inside our rooms there are a stack of room service request cards for breakfast that we're to hang outside our doors by 3 am if we want breakfast delivered in the morning. This was the only time we did it because we actually like stuffing ourselves beyond reason for breakfast, but it's actually a great option. We ordered eggs, hash browns, bacon, croissants, bagels, pastries, fruit, juice and coffee. The delivery boy (man?) was very prompt, our trays of food were delivered by the 6:45 am time we requested, but the genius only brought us 2 sets of silverware and 2 coffee cups when our request was specific in that 3 people are dining. It took him awhile to bring us another set too (and he never brought us an extra mug). Oh well, it can't be perfect. Maybe that's why we always opt to go to the buffet, because the lil' guys who are assigned room service screw up. Dunno. But a lot of people do utilize it - we see their breakfast trays outside their cabins when we walk out in the mornings. It was convenient though - we got to eat breakfast while in our PJ's with the news on and we didn't have to rush anywhere or face the tourist stampede we generally find so stimulating at breakfast. It was really a very relaxed and refreshing way to start off our day. Also, we ate a lot less than we usually do in the buffet (good for my ass, not so much for my stomach).
Once we finish breakfast and stack our trays outside like everyone else does (though I think we could've just left them in the room as our steward would've taken care of it) we got ready for the day. Cognizant that it was going to be freakishly hot, I decided to forgo my shoes and wear my flip flops. My mom decided to stay all covered up in her lifelong battle to avoid looking like a peasant farmer. My dad was oblivious and wore what my mom told him to wear. We had filled our bottles with ice water the night before in anticipation of the tour and were then ready to go.
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| good morning Kusadasi! |
The port...is ugly. Eh. But that's okay, we're not hanging around the port. Immediately upon exiting our ship, we see an Ephesus Shuttle sign with my name on it. Behind the sign is our guide Ali - super nice guy, very knowledgeable and fun to tour with. He immediately leads us through the maze of shops (yes, I swear, there's a freakin' MALL you have to pass through when you're exiting the port - they try to steal your money right off! I recall a Birkenstock store (and they were so expensive there!) and a Lacoste store off the top of my head - I just want to know who wants to buy a fancy French polo shirt in Turkey???) and calls for our van. Within seconds of reaching the street, a black van pulls up with my name on it - how awesome is that? - and we climb in. Seriously - we got a big assed fancy new air conditioned van for just the 3 of us. Inside they have bottled water for us and Turkish delights as well. My mama didn't want Turkish delights, so she tells our guide she's diabetic. Which she is...a fact she conveniently forgets when faced with a dessert she does want but remembers and uses as an excuse when she's offered something gummy and kinda funny tasting but doesn't want to be rude and say "ewwww. No..." But I'm polite, so I take one and so does my dad. It's gummy. And slightly funny tasting - but dude, it's Turkish food. Really though, all I'm thinking at the time is this is what Edmund sold his soul to the White Witch for? Seriously? What a moron! He should've at least asked for a Ferrari. Or creme brulee. Retard.
The tour we opted for was the big assed long one (Tour 4, A1) - because if my ass was going to Turkey, I was going to see as much as I could. Well...I didn't wanna visit little villages and eat off of leaves or whatever, but I wanted to see as much of ancient Ephesus as I could. So we booked the tour that included ancient Ephesus (to include the Terrace Houses), House of the Virgin Mary, St. John's Basilica, and the ruins of the Temple of Artemis, one of the 7 wonders of the ancient world. I know I blathered on and on to my mama and dad about the stuff we were going to see and do both before, during and after I booked the tour, but as their usual habit, they tuned me out. My mom actually very much enjoyed this day (aside from the carpet and leather factories) and said that she thought we'd be touring modern Ephesus and all the tour guide would do is point to some McDonald's and say "this here, thousands of years ago before the invasion of the golden arches used to be the center of the town square" or something equally inane. So she was pleasantly surprised when we toured the ancient city of Ephesus - one that's still being excavated (they estimate that they've only excavated about 15% of it) and has not been occupied for centuries.
Before we head to Ephesus, our first stop is at House of the Virgin Mary. I have no idea if it is the house that John built for Mary, but according to the Catholic Church it is. To me it doesn't really matter if it is or isn't - I choose to believe it could have been. And that's good enough for me.
We got there pretty early, but there were already tour buses pulled up into the small lot. Though this is a huge tourist attraction and a popular pilgrimage location, it's not very large. It is however, a very beautiful place and without the throng of tourists, it seems like it would also be a very peaceful place - a serene location to live out the rest of one's twilight years.
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| statue of the Virgin Mary. What I wanna know is whether or not she busted out the crown when she went to the marketplace to buy vegetables |
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| wishing wall - scraps of paper and tissues with prayers and wishes that people stick on the wall |
They don't allow any photos on the inside - it's two very small rooms with an altar in the back room where Mary supposedly lived. And in this very small space - they had TWO security people to make sure no photos are taken there. I have no idea why they don't allow it, but whatever.
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| this is actually two rooms - this is a reconstruction - the darker bricks on the bottom are original to the building. It's theorized though that Mary only lived in the back room and the front room could've been built later when early Christians converted this to a place of worship. |
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| look out excited my dad is. No, seriously, he's dancing a polka on the inside |
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| outside the house |
There's a spring that runs alongside the house and they've built these drinking fountains fed by the spring. By each fountain there's a sign - I can't read it, but our guide said one says life, the other wealth and one more says love. Sure...but there were a LOT of people carrying a crap load of water bottles filling them up like we were headed for a drought. Perhaps they thought of this as holy water - I don't know - but we lined up anyway like the good tourists we are and splashed some water on ourselves. Well, my mama actually drank some, my dad and I just splashed our faces.
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| water fountains from the spring - Mary may have drank the water from the same spring |
Then we took a few more photos outside the house 'cause realistically, we probably aren't going to be back and wandered a bit before we made our way back to the super touristy location (cafeteria, a bunch of little stands and kiosks selling super tacky souvenirs. I love super tacky souvenirs) to meet up with our guide.
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| another absolutely necessary awkward self-portrait |
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| baptismal pool |
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| wishing wall. No, we didn't put anything on it |
By the time we're ready to leave (we probably spent about a half hour there in total) there are WAY more crowds there than when we came...the tour buses have found us! Literally, hordes of people are streaming out of the buses and descending onto the site - we quickly find our van and we zip off towards Ephesus! Now, it was pretty crazy hot on the day we were there (I really should've bought one of those straw hats they were selling by the road. Freakin' black hair is like a freaking oven on my head), but according to Ali it's usually well over 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the summer. He refuses to take anyone who doesn't have a hat or umbrella and they have to rest in the shade often and stay hydrated so they don't pass out. Yeah...not my idea of a good time. But the entrance to the old city isn't far from the Virgin Mary's house, so we get there pretty quickly as he tells us of both the historical and mythical origins of Ephesus, including its rise to power, the Greek and Roman influences, how the city declined (harbors became silted up and the port became useless) and the impact of Christianity on the region. Of course, my parents didn't really pay attention, but I did because I'm awesome. Nah, it's because I'm a nerd and love history. Also, I had to pay attention so I could tell my parents later why what we're looking at is important.
When we arrive, there are already tour buses there, so there's a lot of people, but we're still ahead of most of the tour buses that arrive after us and Ali wants to keep it that way so we can have less people in our photos.
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| the tickets to Ephesus |
The city is HUGE. Like Pompeii, though I knew it was a city, I didn't really grasp just how huge this place was and wasn't prepared for it. Although since we were only spending a few hours here, we couldn't see all of it, Ali took us to all the major (famous) parts and made an effort to keep us ahead of the massive horde of tourists behind us.
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| I think this was the remains of the state agora/bank area |
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| you can still see the clay pipes in the ground - they had a very sophisticated irrigation/sewage system. Better than China baby! |
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| why are we smiling so big? Because we're all saying "Ali" (@ Odeon theater) |
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| Odeon theater |
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| Fountain of Trajan (still incomplete. It was originally 2 stories high) |
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| Memmius Monument |
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| it's Nike! (not the shoe, the goddess of victory. If you look at her skirts, to the left side (her right - right above her outstretched right leg) you can see the swoosh. |
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| on Curetes street (between Hercules' Gate and Library of Celsus) |
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Temple of Hadrian (with Ali in the foregroud. hi Ali!)
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| frieze inside Temple of Hadrian, depicting one of the mythical originals of Ephesus, specifically Androclos, a son of the King of Athens who founded Ephesus after an Apollon oracle told him he'd found an empire at the site indicated by a fish and a wild boar. The frieze depicts him with a fish and a wild boar. Because you know, old blind oracles are accurate like that. |
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| another frieze inside the Temple of Hadrian. This one depicts another origin myth - that Ephesus was founded by Amazons. This frieze shows gigantor Amazons who are literally larger than elephants. The elephants must have freaked
One of the big attractions? Toilets. Pay public toilets with marble seats. These Ephesians were some swanky dudes. If you look into the toilets, you can see their relatively sophisticated sewage system that had water running constantly to flush out the poop so everyone in the room didn't pass out from the stench. If you look below by where their feet would rest, there's what looks like...a mini canal(?) where there would be flowing water. That's where they'd wash their hands...after they used their left hands to wipe their butts. Because they are gross and did not have toilet paper (didn't they have leaves or something? seriously...poopy hands. ewwww). But the toilets are HUGE attraction - people were so excited that we became excited by osmosis. Seriously, we acted like we'd never seen a toilet before and may never see one again. I've never taken so many photos of and with toilets in my entire life. Don't we look way too happy for people who are getting their pictures taken next to toilets? I mean, it's not like these are magic toilets. Also, isn't it weird for you to be sitting there on your marble throne (literally) while there's a dude whose butt is like, 2 inches from yours? How awkward is that? Do you say hi when you see a friend or do you pretend you didn't see them because say...you've got the runs. Wouldn't you be embarrassed? And how do you choose which toilet to sit at? How do you decide who you'd rather poop by? This is too complicated and gives too much food for thought when all you need to do is to pee or take a dump. Thank goodness we now have private stalls. But even so, people still have a hard time letting one rip when there's someone next door. Imagine how the Ephesians felt!
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As we walked out of the toilets, we saw the Library of Celsus. Yay! Finally something I recognize! I was so excited - but there are a lot of big marble blocks (like misshapen steps) and they were all slippery, especially with sand everywhere. At this point, we've been walking non-stop for about an hour and a half and my dad called (yelled. screamed. begged) uncle. He found a shaded spot across from the library and just sat down on some marble slab that was probably thousands of years old. So my mama and I were the only ones who went and explored the area by the library.
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| nice view from the toilets, eh? |
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| since my dad wussed out, this awkward self-portrait was just me and my mama |
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| the backside of the library's facade |
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| this was as close as dad got. He was suffering from heat exhaustion and couldn't hack it |
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| you can see the Gate of Augustus to the right of the library |
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| Gate of Augustus (also called Gate of Mazaeus and Mithridates - after the slaves who built this for Augustus who were later freed and became wealthy men) |
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| all unnaturally large smiles from this day are from when we're saying "Ali " instead of "cheese" |
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| not that you can tell, but she's standing on a small narrow street that used to house numerous silversmiths who rose up against Paul in Acts 19. |
We also sprung the extra $10 to go into the Terrace Houses, where we saw a lot of really awesome stuff. We walk in and into the world of the upper middle class in ancient Ephesus where we saw murals, HUGE baths, fancy bedrooms and a lot of mosaics (their upper middle class live better than our upper middle class. Stupid inflation!). It's an active excavation site where you could see worktables of broken tiles and mosaics archaeologists are still working to piece together.
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| mosaic street leading to the Terrace Houses (this was the area all those thieving bastards had been stealing chunks of tile and bricks from, leading to the protected Terrace Houses today) |
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| fuzzy not awesome photo of their photos. The top one shows the excavation site today (of the Terrace Houses). They're the ones in the big assed tent-like structure. The bottom left photo shows the Terrace Houses before excavation in the hill (hence "terrace"). Apparently when the houses next to the Terrace Houses were excavated, tourists would come and start stealing blocks and bricks and tiles from the mosaics as souvenirs - so when they started excavating the hill next to it, they did it in a protected manner. And they charge extra to keep it protected. |
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| the family that bathes together stays together |
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| fancy walls in a fancy house. Should I get murals painted in my little house now? |
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| marble wainscoting restored by archaeologists |
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| ongoing work |
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| inside the huge structure that houses the Terrace Houses (hehehe) |
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| mosaic of Triton trying to hit on some chick in some dude's fancy house |
It takes us about 45 minutes to get through the Terrace Houses - it really is amazing to see how people used to live. We got to see what plumbing was like in houses thousands of years ago, how their houses were laid out, where they bathed and cooked and ate and slept...freaking awesome.
We start heading towards the Grand Stadium, which is gigantor - and now, kind of unstable (apparently the Turks blame Bono and Elton John since they held concerts here). Also it was filled to the brim with people with a gargantuan line to enter so we opted not to go in. But as we're on Arcadian Street, they have these performers reenacting the arrival of Cleopatra and Marc Antony. Um...okay. My parents stayed to watch this while I went and took photos of other random things.
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| see the fake Egyptians dance like an Egyptian? hehehe |
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| Arcadian Street towards the port. Where all the greenery is - that's where the port was before it silted up. |
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| Grand stadium in the background - see our (mom's) rocking gold umbrella? We SO Chinese! |
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| obligatory crappy self-portrait (my head can seriously eat the world it's so huge in this photo) |
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| stadium with Vedius Gymnasium in the foreground |
In total, we spent about 3 hours in Ephesus. At this point, it's freakishly hot and we're tired. But we have two more sites to see before we can head back to the ship and cool off.
The first site is the Basilica of St. John - built in the 6th century by Justinian to honor the grave site of the Apostle John. At some point when they were invaded and sacked, the body of John apparently was also taken and then church then fell into disrepair. It was further destroyed by subsequent earthquakes and was never rebuilt.
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| tomb of John the Apostle |
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| baptismal inside the basilica. The small holes are for children - there's another smaller niche (behind my dad) where they had the oils for anointing |
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| center for big people - two small ones at the sides for little people. Then a hole for the oil |
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| "ALI!!!" |
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| entrance to the basilica |
After the basilica, we then drove the short distance to see what's left of the Temple of Artemis. Literally, there's nothing left since whatever was there before was moved to the British Museum. There's one column made up of whatever was left over after the museums preserved (or looted) all the good stuff to mark the site of the temple. Even though it's not there anymore, I was still happy to have gone - it's a place of great historical significance, even if all we saw was a stone column and a swamp.
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| our last awkward self-portrait of the day. A kid tried to take photos for us, but he was also trying to sell us some crap book for 20 Euros and followed us all the way to our van. |
So this brings us to the MOST awkward (albeit entertaining) portion of our day. Factories. Specifically, Turkish carpet factories and leather factories. I knew this was going to be an unavoidable part of our tour, but I forgot to tell my parents. They took us to Carpeterium, one of the largest carpet factories in Kusadasi and is apparently recommended by Rick Steves (per our guide). They walked us into the large (and posh) show room, showed us silkworms, the gathering of the silk thread, the dyes used, and numerous carpets being hand knotted. Man that's a lot of work. That part was interesting. The awkward part was when they handed us apple tea (really tasty) and took us to a room where they started showing us a crap load of carpets. Very expensive carpets. Starting in the tens of thousands...all the way down to one that looked like it was my dog's size...and that was about a grand. I was so embarrassed and it was so awkward - my mom was thinking about buying one just because she felt so bad they were doing this for the three of us (seriously, it was the three of us in this room and they had 5-6 guys bringing in these huge carpets and unrolling them for us and going back and forth repeatedly) but 1) both hers and my house are already packed; 2) I buy my rugs at Costco for like, a couple hundred bucks and I really like them; and 3) we haven't lost our freakin' minds. If I had an extra 10 grand to throw around, I damn sure ain't buying no carpet, unless it's one that flies. I really, really, really wanted to leave - and they kept looking at us hoping we're gonna buy something. Maybe if it was a grand or so I would've bought it just so I wouldn't feel so awkward, but I was NOT going to spend six grand on some (small) carpet that Bento's just going to pee on. I didn't take any photos, but I found a photo online of the display room they took us to:
Except instead of ALL those people, it was just the three of us. AWKWARD!!!
So we make my dad give excuses (because he's the man, and he has no shame - yes, I'm not ashamed to say I actually hid behind my dad) and we walk out as soon as we can. Oy. Our guide wanted to know if we bought anything and so did our driver. I'm guessing they get some kind of kickback from the sales, but there was NO way I was coming home with a rug that costs the equivalent of a small car.
Our next stop was a leather factory. Also awkward...however, I can afford a leather jacket. I mean, how expensive are they? Uh...very. They ushered us in (an even posher building), gave us cold apple tea then lead us into a room. A room with a catwalk. And stadium seating. We sit down and then strobe lights come on and pulsing club music starts. And then seriously - freakin' models start walking down the the catwalk - guys and chicks...just for the three of us. SOOOOOO AWKWARD. It was a real fashion show - at least what it looks like from the magazines. We couldn't wait to get out of there either. They then lead us to a big ass show room (I couldn't find a picture online) and the manager started following us around and kept trying to get us to try on the coats. They had all kinds - but the guy kept pushing these motorcycle jackets at me. I mean, was he blind??? Do I look like I wear motorcycle jackets? Do I look like I have a Harley hidden away somewhere???? I drive a coupe. A blue coupe. And by blue, I don't mean navy blue. I mean a girly blue. Sort of a blue green with more blue than green that no straight man (other than my metrosexual brother) would be caught driving. Someone described my car as teal. I don't like that because teal sounds like such an ugly color. But this is the color of my car:
So, you tell me - does someone who drives a car like the one above (a girly, frilly blue) look like someone who would wear motorcycle jackets??? Really??!! WTH.
Anyway, a beige jacket (NOT a motorcycle jacket) caught my eye and he immediately keeps trying to get me to try it on. Like a moron, I try it on. Damn. I actually like the jacket. I look at the price tag - it's like, 890 Euros. I ain't spending a thousand dollars on a jacket no matter how much I like it. If I'm spending a grand, it damn well better be an Armani jacket. And it better give me super powers like Iron Man's suit. But man, the leather - it feels like butter - and like the super moron I am, I can't stop stroking it. The workmanship is also incredible - it's so much better than the leather jackets you can find at Nordstrom. The manager tells us since they're a factory, they sell to all the major design houses who slap their brands on the jackets and they're usually sold for 3 times the price. I don't disbelieve him. But I still wasn't spending this money. An orange/coral purse catches my mama's eye - it runs for about 790 euros. Geez. The Louis Vuitton I got her was about 730 euros - how can this be more expensive than the LV??!!!
The guy starts bargaining with me. I suck donkey balls at bargaining. I have no shame in admitting that whenever a situation calls for bargaining, I hide behind my mother - she is the master. MASTER I tell you. So I immediately run to my mama (like a timid little bunny - and I ain't no bunny...unless you're trying to bargain with me) and tell her to make the fat Turkish man go away. She just wants to know if I like the jacket - I tell her I do, but there ain't no way I was paying that price for it. She looks at the man and says his stuff is very nice, but not worth this much money. As we try to walk out he immediately chases us - "Madame, madame!! We can work on the price! Tell me what you want to pay! Tell me - work with me!" My mom turns back and looks at him. He then runs over a long reversible black coat in silk leather (baby lambskin cut that's laser cut thin and treated for durability - it really feels like silk) and my mama tries it on. She decides she likes it but she wasn't paying 1790 euros for it. And the following exchange looks like this:
"Madame, I will do this. I will do this for you. I will convert the euros to American dollars so you get a good discount."
My mama looks at him like he's on crack and starts walking out. The fat Turkish man now begins to sweat. He realizes my mama, even though she looks super nice and sweet, ain't no retarded pushover. He chases after her.
"Madame! Madame! Okay. Okay, okay...I will do this. I will do this. Not only do I convert to American dollars - I....I will give you a 50% discount, okay? So the jacket - not 1790 euros, but 895 American dollars. Deal? Deal? We have a deal? Yes? Okay. We have deal."
My mama looks at me and she says in our secret language (you know, the language that billions of people speak), "how much do you like this jacket? Do you have to have this jacket? Did you pick it out only because you're embarrassed?"
God, my mama knows me so well. I am embarrassed (I have thin skin, okay bitches?), but I actually do like the jacket. But I don't know if I like it $450 worth though. I don't need a leather jacket, and I can hit up Tarjay at least four times with that amount of money! And think of all the gelato that can buy!
My mama turns back to him, a small smile on her lips but her gaze is as sharp as a raptor's. Only a fool would think she's gullible in any way. Her smile drops and she says "I will give you a number. One number only. You can say yes or no - no hard feelings. Nothing personal. But yes or no, that's it. No more bargaining."
I can see a sheen of sweat on the fat Turkish man's forehead. I can see beads of sweat form above his fat lip as well. He takes out his handkerchief and dabs his forehead. "Yes, madame? I tell you, I am reasonable! I will lose money!"
My mom holds his eyes and spits out "$1200 U.S dollars. Take it or leave it. Yes or no, that's it." With that, she turns her back and she flounces (yes, flounces) away and plops herself down in chair. Both her arms and legs are crossed, her expression is nonchalant as she waits for the fat man's response.
The fat man is flustered. He dithers a bit, then he starts rapidly speaking Turkish (I presume) to the 2 women working the register. I hear the rapid tapping of the keyboard and they start making phone calls. The fat man is sweating, he seems confused.
My dad in the meantime, finds this enormously entertaining (if my mama is the master, my dad is like, the Yoda of bargaining. But like Yoda, he's straight up undercover and he rarely busts out this skill. This man is so good that he once got freakin' Circuit City to knock $50 off a stereo system we bought from them. And dude, it was on sale. He talked the freaking salesman into giving him a discount...how did this happen? I mean, who just walks into like, Best Buy and starts bargaining with their salesman? My dad, that's who) and starts laughing. He looks at the agonized expression on the fat Turkish man's face and he says, "You gave a really good price. It's too high for him to reject outright and laugh at you, but too low for him to sell to you and make a profit."
Minutes pass. Fat man walks over and in a pleading voice says, "Madame. $1600. Please. $1600. I can't do $1200. I have a business. Please. Let's shake. Let's shake. Deal, okay? Deal."
My mom looks at his outstretched hand and sniffs. "I said $1200, not $1600. Yes or no."
"Please madame," he begs, "please. Okay. Okay. I can do $1300. How about $1300? I can't go lower. Please madame. $1300 and we have deal? Okay? Deal. Let's shake."
My mom looks at him and you see the pity on her face and she relents. She sighs, "Okay, fine. Final offer, I will pay $1250. That's it. Yes or no."
The fat man looks relieved but he shoots back with,"Cash then, you pay cash."
Uh...we don't have $1250 in cash. Who the hell walks around Ephesus with $1250 in cash? We only had $400 in cash that we planned to use to pay our tour guide ($237), tip him and our driver, and to be able to buy some snacks and souvenirs. We did not plan on making any large purchases. I tell Ali this and he assures me (I bet he gets a big assed kickback) that they can swing by the tour office on the way to the port and I can charge his fee instead of paying him cash.
"I only have $400 cash. I wasn't planning - this was unexpected - I did not want to buy anything. Only $400 - so we have to use credit card." my mama tells the sweaty fat man.
Sweaty fat man thinks for a few moments, then he says, "Deal. Okay, $400 in cash and $1250. Deal, yes? Deal."
My mom breaks out into a smile and says, "Deal. Okay."
He lets out a breath of relief and immediately starts bagging our purchases afraid we're going to change our minds. As I'm swiping my credit card, he looks at me and mutters in a low voice, "your mother. She is good. She is good." Hehehe. It's so funny how people underestimate her just because she's always smiling. Retards.
Of course, ever the salesman, he immediately tries to get my dad to try on a leather jacket. Dude, did he even look at my dad? Does my dad look like he wants a fancy leather jacket? Does he look like he even belongs in a fancy leather jacket? I don't think so. But my dad humors him and puts it on, then in our secret language (you know, the one that's so secret that the largest population in the world speaks it) he says, "This guy just doesn't give up. Why would I want a leather jacket? Do I have 'fool' stamped on my forehead?"
My mom looks at my dad in this leather duster and says, "it looks fake on him. Not look expensive. No." Well, you can't say she doesn't tell it like it is.
So we walk out with 2 leather jackets and a bright orange leather purse. I have to tell you, it awes me each time my mama beats some poor salesman down (which is why I also hid behind her when I bought my car - don't hate) and I happily clutch the bag containing my new purchases. Huh. Whodathunk when I woke up that I'd now be the proud owner of a beige leather jacket? I don't think I have any beige on my closet. In fact you'd be hard pressed to find anything other than black, maybe some gray in my closet. Then it hits me - I just spent hundreds of dollars on a beige leather jacket. WTH? Then again, compared to the LV I bought in Paris - nah. No biggie. So I tell myself as I begin to hyperventilate. Oy.
After this very expensive portion of our excursion, Ali brings us to their tour office where I pay for the tour by credit card and they deliver us back to the ship. We've only been gone for six hours - but considering the massive amounts of awkward embarrassment we experienced, the crazy hot weather, the unforgiving sun (I end up with some gnarly tan lines from this day) and all the walking, we're pretty much walking sideways at this point and running on fumes. We walk back onto the ship and have to decide what to do. At this point we're crazy hungry because we opted not to stop for lunch - so we have a dilemma - do we head for the buffet which closes soon to set up for dinner service or do we drop our purchases off first? In my mama's infinite wisdom, she rushes us to the buffet and since the hour is late, we find a large round table with extra chairs to store our purchases. It's a good thing too as they start roping off portions of the buffet. Oh hell no! Like last call at an Irish bar the people there (those like us who just returned) stampeded towards the buffet like we're facing a famine (myself included). I grab a plate and immediately start filling it up. Then I grab another plate and fill that up too - honestly, I don't think I was even paying attention, I was just terrified that I wasn't going to have enough food (clearly I was suffering from temporary brain damage. I was on a CRUISE SHIP. There will NEVER be a situation in which food is scarce). For good measure, afraid they would stop me later I grab a big ass entree plate and run to the dessert station and fill that up too. God I'm a pig. A gross, disgusting, well fed pig. And I loved every second of it. (though I sob now at breakfast when I look at my lone muffin or granola bar thinking longingly of the days when I would eat 10 times that each morning. However, if I did that every day soon I would need to wear a tent to cover myself since no clothing would fit.)
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| fruits of my mama's labors. |
Once we've stuffed ourselves to a point way beyond what is healthy, we lumber back to our room. I'm so freaking tired at this point I don't want to do anything. We dump our purchases down and I collapse on a lounger on our balcony. Ahhhh...
I spend the rest of the afternoon on our balcony alternately surfing the web (close enough to land for 3G reception), going through the hundreds (close to a thousand) photos we took for the day, and reading my kindle. I literally do nothing but lay my fat ass on the lounger with my feet on the rungs of our balcony and while the afternoon away. I lurve cruising!
When we feel like it, we waddle our way upstairs to the buffet and stuff ourselves once more. Because of the lateness of our lunch, I don't think I ate as much as I usually do - but what I did have was their chilled soups. I was obsessed with their chilled soups. Really, they're just smoothies in a bowl - Lord I miss those. I had a bowl with every meal (sigh). When we return to our room for the night (I wasn't planning on anything more strenuous than collapsing into my bed, though my dad kept making noises about watching some kind of show) we have another surprise. A turtle!
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| And I shall dub thee...Paolo. |
We go onto the balcony to see the dusk settle and night steal in and I end the day in my very comfortable sofa bed. I end each day pooped out beyond belief - I'm always completely drained and exhausted I have no idea how these other people have the energy to go to the discos and stuff. I gotta go eat whatever it is they're eating because I've never been so grateful to climb into bed as I was that week on the cruise ship.
The next day...Mykonos!
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