Adventuresam

From my last blog post, you probably gathered that Azerbaijan is an interesting place with a lot of interesting rules (don’t smile…don’t make eye contact—you get my point). Another interesting travel rule is that if you stay in the country longer than 10 days, you have to register yourself with immigration even though you already have a visa. So to avoid accidentally becoming an Azerbaijani citizen, I decided to head back to Armenia, but long was the trek ahead.

To get to Armenia from Azerbaijan, I had to go through Georgia… you know, because war. So I took a bus to Tbilisi, Georgia and then from there took a train to Yerevan, Armenia. I noticed that customs was way easier to get through as I entered Armenia from Georgia than it was to get into Azerbaijan from Georgia; this put my non-Russian/non-Armenian-speaking self at ease.

Armenian church on a typical-looking day in January.

Even though I wasn’t struggling to explain my presence in Armenia, I did find myself wishing that I could speak Armenian or at least Russian. It was really hard to communicate with people in that part of the world without speaking their language, and English wasn’t common among the masses. Beyond that, the language barrier kept me from learning a lot of the things I wanted to know more about, namely Armenia’s modern history—the genocide, its initiative to take in Syrian refugees, its volatile feud with Turkey. So, since I wasn’t about to become fluent in Russian or Armenian in the short time I was there, I learned what I could about the culture despite the language barrier.

I especially learned, as I sat in the 6-person hostel dorm that I had all to myself, that January was not the most popular time to visit Armenia. Moreover, if you do visit Armenia in January (or at least stay in this particular hostel), you are bound to run into some very interesting characters.

There was the Armenian student who worked at the hostel every single day; it was the same girl every time. But that was okay because she was incredibly sweet. There was a certifiably crazy Thai guy who would not stop talking if anyone was around (sometimes I wonder if he kept talking even after everyone had left the room), and an Australian who could’ve walked out of some angsty young adult fiction novel. He was a serious loner and was mainly visiting parts of the world that weren’t recognized as countries but whose self-identities classified them as independent nations (like Transnistria, Nagorno-Karbakh Republic, and Crimea). He had just come back from spending 3 weeks in eastern Armenia and spent his days watching documentaries…Was this a version of the Truman Show? Am I really a character in a novel? Only time will tell.

Anyways, we were a really eclectic group, and while we did spend some time together, I wouldn’t go so far as to say we were best friends…or even friends. So because I wasn’t too keen on watching documentaries all day (not that I was invited) or listening to my Thai hostel-mate’s rants, I decided to join a gym. And lo and behold, I found my people!

On the first day at the gym, the elliptical I was on (with no on off button) actually broke. And even though I’m in shape, that somehow seemed to fulfill literally every person’s worst gym nightmare. The trainer, Eduard, came running over to make sure I wasn’t hurt, and other than my bruised pride, I was completely fine. He reassured me that it was just shoddy Soviet architecture. Once I was safely secure on another elliptical, Eduard came over to talk about the book he was writing. Here’s a quick summary:

The best way to solve the world’s problems is not with guns, but with a boxing match. Boxing match? You might ask. Yes, throw all the world’s leaders into a boxing ring, and let them duke it out. So, the book (fiction, fingers crossed) is about Putin, Trump, Armenia’s president, and other world leaders meeting in the ring. But as they begin to fight, they can’t find the chancellor of Germany anywhere. Where’s Angela? They ask. Then suddenly, they look over and yes, Angela Merkel, ladies and gentlemen, is wearing a small bikini and walking around the ring with a sign—she’s the ring girl.

I was too out of breath from the elliptical to comment on the slightly sexist overtones, but he hasn’t finished the book yet, so maybe the plot twist is that in the middle of the fight, Merkel throws the sign like a boomerang and knocks the rest of the leaders out cold. Here’s hoping.

After spending all of my time at the gym, Diuel and Eduard became my gym buddies—Dieul, a girl who always kept me laughing while the trainer busted our asses, and Eduard, the trainer who busted our asses. Not only was I super excited that these two spoke English, but also I found them to be incredibly fun company to keep. Eduard pushed us really hard (I think my abs still might be sore…), but he was really sweet, and everyone at the gym came to him for advice. It was like physical therapy (*comedy drum noise*).

I was feeling great! I had found a sense of community, was working out hard each day, and was buying fresh fruits, veggies, and eggs from the market near the hostel. Eduard even came up with a diet plan for me, which didn’t allow me to eat bananas.

Healthy cooking the the gorgeous hostel kitchen (not pictured: the gorgeous hostel kitchen)

Before I knew it, I found myself amidst new friends and the NFL’s postseason. Since the Steelers were in the playoffs, my friend Davit and I navigated the metros to find a sports bar that was showing the game. We failed on both fronts—first getting off at the wrong metro stop and then never finding a bar that showed American football. Luckily, Davit was able to find the game on his phone, and we watched it from there. As I was explaining the rules of the game to him, in sort of an American cultural exchange, I realized that I probably (no, most definitely) didn’t know as much about American football as I thought. But I knew enough to know the Steelers lost.  

That television behind him where we tried to find the game says No data, CBS doesn’t play in Armenia.

Another adventure featuring Davit took place at a restaurant where we had dinner and dessert (but not in that order; shout out to the pre-dinner raw vegan chocolate cake).  

Great photo of a great memory.

The restaurant was very cool, and we used every single one of its amenities: ordered food, ordered wine, Davit had a long day (he works as an Economic Officer in the embassy of the Czech Republic in Armenia), so he made use of the couch, we looked at the bookstand and took photos in different parts of the room for different lighting. Seriously…every amenity. Here’s the best picture we took.  The lighting is superb, am I right?

We had a great time filled with food and laughter…. In Armenia, you say ‘yes’ by saying ‘ha,’ so when Davit was on the phone, he would say: “Ha. Ha. Ha.” Ok, so he wasn’t technically laughing, but I sure was.

After a week, Davit arranged for me to take a night bus at 8pm to Kutasi, Georgia where I had to catch a flight. The minibus ride was 11 hours long, and it was impossible to sleep because it was so cramped, and the road was extremely bumpy. But I made a new (Facebook) friend on the way. The guy sitting next to me didn’t speak a word of English, but he really wanted to become Facebook friends. I accepted his request, and I kid you not he spent the next several hours Facebook-stalking me while I sat right next to him. I got notifications that he was liking almost every single one of my photos—some dating back to a healthy 10 years ago.

I don’t know if you’ve ever watched someone Facebook stalk you, but I wouldn’t recommend it as a fun pastime.

Five hundred Facebook notifications later, I finally arrived at Kutasi airport and sought out a nice comfy place to sleep on the floor. I set my alarm for 9:30am, my check-in time. After 90 minutes of what clearly wasn’t enough sleep, I went to check in but was denied. They told me I had to wait until 11am. By the time I got back to my cozy floor bed, my spot had been taken.  

It was a hard day of traveling, but I pushed through. I had found pockets of warmth (friends, community, experience) in a not-so-warm climate, and I was looking forward to finding both warm people and warm weather in my new destination.  I did not like being uprooted again from a routine I found comfortable but, it wouldn’t be called traveling if I spent too long in one place.

Off off and away,
‘mi

That’s basically how I felt about Azerbaijan. Not that I felt any type of way about it; I just didn’t know anything about it, and I never thought I’d end up here. Before planning the Mystery Trip, I couldn’t have told you with 100% certainty that Azerbaijan was even a country, much less where it was located. And now here I am.  I spent about a week in this previously unknown part of the world.

Views as you leave the train station.

The capital, Baku, is all the way on the eastern side of the country and about an 11-hour train ride from Tbilisi, Georgia. The train leaves every odd day (the 7th, the 9th, etc.) and returns every even day (the 8th, the10th, etc.). So after buying said overnight  train ticket from Georgia, I realized—haha, silly me— I didn’t have a visa. So dumb. #Rookiemistake. Lucky for me, they have this new system (seriously, thank goodness) where you can apply online for an Azerbaijani visa.

Quick riddle:

Sammi has a ticket to leave in 24 hours and needs an Azerbaijani visa. Her options are: 1) pay $20 USD and receive the visa in 3 days or 2) pay $50 USD and receive the visa in 3 hours. Which option does Sammi choose?

Option 2.  A hit to my budget but ultimately, buying an alternative train ticket would have been more expensive and delayed my travel.  Also, i’ve been wayyyy under budget for this entire trip.  But seriously, being able to apply for an Azerbaijani visa online has really changed how accessible the country is to foreigners.  They’ve seen a huge jump in tourism. During the whole visa process, I thought about how, although I paid slightly more, IT WAS SO EASY.  I’m extra lucky (like, SO LUCKY) to have been born with a strong passport (thank you, ancestors, who emigrated to the USA) that allows me to apply for visas online and occasionally get them granted overnight.  That could not have happened with my Iranian counterparts.  #neverforget  #Didiusethatcorrectly?

So back to the story…

On the train, I got lucky again. There were four bunk beds (two on top and two on the bottom), but there was only one other woman in the car—a very gentle, older woman who didn’t speak much English. We passed the time by showing each other photos, and I eventually learned that she’s a therapist.  

And now it’s time for a 1-second skit (feel free to grab a partner and act out the scene):

SAMMI: Oh! You’re a therapist?! I have a therapist and I love her!  Her name is Julia.

ALMA: Julia. (points to Sammi) Alma. (points to herself)

The whole situation was clearly lost in translation, and I couldn’t explain it given that my Russian is a little rusty (as in, I don’t speak Russian). So, it was easier that I just do a quick name change and go by Julia.  I hope I remember to tell my therapist that I assumed her name on a train to Azerbaijan, by accident, when I was trying to praise her.   Alma and her new friend Julia (aka me) weren’t allowed to go to sleep until we had passed through Azerbaijani customs, which was at about 11pm. We were individually called into a separate room (which is good because then she would’ve found out my name was, in fact, not Julia…and that might have been awkward), and our passports were examined. Because I had arrived in Armenia a week or so earlier, my passport was scrutinized extra thoroughly.

Just so you’re in the know, Azerbaijan and Armenia are in the midst of a war. Although there is currently a ceasefire, the borders between the two countries are entirely closed. Occasionally, there is a small flare up, but then Russia flexes its muscles (read: threatens Azerbaijan).  (Azerbaijan’s ally is Turkey; they’ve had a very fraternal relationship throughout history.)

Nagorno-Karabakh is the specific region where this fighting takes place. In 1992, there was a massacre here. Nagorno-Karabakh is internationally recognized as Azerbaijani territory, but has been totally taken over by Armenia. You are only able to access it through Armenia. This is a very sensitive topic for most Azerbaijani people, as you can well imagine. Including mmy train cabin-mate.  Her husband and brother had died in the war.  That being said, even though Azerbaijan and Armenia are direct neighbors, you can’t travel from Armenia to Azerbaijan and vice versa.

Now given all that info, you can imagine how much absolute FUN it was to try and explain the origin of my Armenian passport stamp (concept of mystery trip, traveling with friends, my past itinerary) while speaking 0 Azerbaijani (the language) and not a word of Russian (their begrudging, second language). I left a lot of details out, for simplicity’s sake and, after some time, I was allowed to go back into my cabin where I—ahem, sorry— where Julia and Alma slept. Alma snored loudly while I read my book, frantically learning all I could about the region, until eventually falling asleep myself.

When we woke up, we were in Azerbaijan. I got off the train and found myself in the nicest train station I’ve been to in a long time. Free, fast wifi, outlets, a bathroom (that you had to pay for but still). I ate the rest of my train snacks and used the free, fast WIFI for over anhour.  Including to book a hostel where I would stay that night.   

Not a meal on the train, as they don’t serve food at all (or have any for purchase… not even bottled water). (My Mystery Trippers remember this well, I’m sure)  This was a #BYOfood and #BYOwater kind of party.   Pictured here, though, is a typical meal in Azerbaijan.

I stayed at the Cheeky Carabao hostel – it had fantastic reviews. It’s run by a young couple, half Azerbaijani, half Canadian. They had just opened 5 months ago and were doing very well. It reminded me to update my status on CouchSurfing and make my couch available when I get back home to Pittsburgh (heads up, Helen!). It also made me wonder: Do I want to turn my house into a hostel and host hundreds of travelers while they’re visiting Pittsburgh? (heads up, Helen!)

Beautiful backstreets in Baku’s Old City.

Quick Tip. Do not smile in Azerbaijan.

As I was walking to my hostel (at 9am in broad daylight), I was beaming with joy because I had finally made it! All of a sudden, a boy in a car stopped and asked if I wanted to get in. Hmm..No thanks! I could give you a full list of reasons why not, but these two would suffice:

1. We were literally going in opposite directions.
2. I was 400 meters from where I need to be.

He asked if he could find somewhere to pull over so he could talk to me. I said, “Uh, sure!” And I waited for him to park. Now, I was just coming from the train station in Georgia where I couldn’t communicate with anyone for hours; the train where Alma thought I was Julia; and the Azerbaijan train station where I also couldn’t speak to anyone (I had tried a taxi driver, a police officer, a ticketing agent, and the man who exchanges money). I was pretty thrilled that this guy spoke English! I was ecstatic, actually, to talk to an Azerbaijani. We made small talk as he walked me towards my hostel. You know, the Small Talk Favorites:

• What’s your name?
• Where did you learn English? / When did you arrive in Azerbaijan?
• How old are you? (He was 26.)
• Are you married? (I am not, and neither was he).
• Do you have a boyfriend?  Yes.
• Do you have sex with him?

Yeah, you know… just your average, typical, good ol’ small talk.

Grab your acting partner! Here’s another 1-second skit you can act out!

Scene: 9am on a Tuesday, Sammi, badass traveler and inappropriate guy #1, skinny young kid, meet.

SAMMI: (gives side eye) No!

INAPPROPRIATE  GUY #1: Why?

SAMMI: Uhh. We’ve only been dating a couple months, and I’m really pure…

INAPPROPRIATE GUY #1: What about your boyfriends before this? Did you have sex with them?

SAMMI: No!

INAPPROPRIATE GUY #1: (being extra inappropriate) Oh. Well, do you want to have sex?

SAMMI: (with gusto) No thanks!

INAPPROPRIATE GUY #1: Okay, well, I gotta go. Bye!
I was worried he would show up at my hostel and badger me, so I told management when I arrived and they apologized profusely on behalf of their country.  They told me not to worry if he showed up, they would send him away.  And that’s when I got that hot tip:  Don’t smile at anyone. Okay, good to know.

Quick Tip #2. Absolutely do not make eye contact with anyone in Azerbaijan.

This time, I was on a bus.

Don’t smile, don’t smile, don’t smile, I kept repeating to myself as I caught people’s eyes as they got on and off the city bus.  I had, been on this bus for over 30 minutes, repeating my mantra, when we reached my stop.  I noticed one other guy got off the bus when I did. So, I sat down on a bench, gathered my stuff, and waited for him to go off in one direction so I could swiftly go in the completely opposite direction. He doesn’t go in any direction, but he also isn’t looking at me. So finally I leave, and he starts to follow.  

I walk really fast; he’s still behind me. I go into shops; he goes in them too. I walk for 45 minutes, and HE’S STILL BEHIND ME!!!!

My friends, I give you INAPPROPRIATE GUY # 2.

I go into this castle (you have to pay to go in); he comes in too. I slow down so he will at least approach me. He does not.  He is looking at palace ruins; I see him and stare him down. He does not come to me, and he does not move. He just continues to look at the palace relics.

So, am I crazy? Does he also just walk really fast, and did his errands also include going to every single shop I went into? And was he also like, “hey, I probably live here but I’m going to go check out some palaces today and be a tourist in my own city”?

I cannot enjoy myself. At this point, I am very unsettled. He has totally unnerved me plus, it’s getting dark.  So, after an hour and a half of this guy following me, I finally just march right up to him.  

10-second skit. You know what to do.

SAMMI: Salem (hello). English? No. Russian?

INAPPROPRIATE GUY # 2: (smiles)←  red flag

SAMMI: (yelling) Stop following me!  It’s not welcomed or appreciated!! I don’t like you! I hate that you’re doing this! You are disgusting! This is terrible! You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been following me?? I’ve noticed! And I don’t want you to! You are awful! Nobody would like this!  Why are you doing this?!  If you don’t stop I’m going to go get the police.

INAPPROPRIATE GUY # 2: Police?

SAMMI: (yelling) Yes, the freaking police! You are making me so uncomfortable! I haven’t been able to have a nice time because you won’t leave me alone!! (storms away)

A couple minutes later, I look around the compound. He’s gone. I breathe a sigh of relief, by now it’s already dark. As I leave and start to walk through the winding streets, I keep seeing shadows and thinking that it’s him, but it never is.

I get to the hostel for the night and share my stories with the other girls who are staying there (all of them live in Azerbaijan: A Peruvian, a girl from Kazakhstan, and a girl from Thailand).  They ALL have similar stories. Every single one of them. That’s just how the guys are here. But apparently, it’s pretty non-threatening…you know, besides being threatening.

How to not get followed by creepy men in Azerbaijan:

1. Don’t smile (thought I had nailed this one).
2. Don’t just *not smile*, don’t even make eye contact.
3. Yell at Inappropriate Guy if he decides to follow you.
4. Threaten to call the police if a man has mistaken your not smiling and your lack of eye contact for an invitation to follow you.

Apparently, according to the ex-pats living at the hostel, the Azerbaijani police always take the girl’s side. They are always watching out for women. If a girl complains to a policeman that a guy is giving her trouble, that guy gets in a lot of trouble with the police (or needs to cough up a large bribe to not be in trouble with the police).

Whew. It was a bunch of big laughs and chatting and lessons, and I was glad to have met some other women who could share in my experience. I can’t speak for them, but I think we all got a lot out of our solidarity and hearing each other’s stories. And for the rest of my time in Azerbaijan (at least in Baku, the capital), I kept my eyes down.  

City views.

Hanging out with the super intelligent, joyful Maryam on what looks like the set of the Bachelor.

A memorial from when the Soviet Union murdered defenseless Azerbaijani citizens.  January, 1990.

A few days later, I decided to head to the mountains. I bought Dramamine and went for a 6-hour bus ride to Sheki, a town where I stayed in a wonderful 10-person hostel, which I had all to myself. The owners didn’t speak very much English but were very kind and generous. There was nothing to do when it got dark, and I spent most of my time getting caught up on these blogs and drinking tea. It was blissful.

Rural Azerbaijan.

There was a hike that I wanted to take, and the weather was gorgeous. I was on the fence about it because I was going solo, and I was still a little shaken up about how men treated me in Baku. But I decided that I wasn’t going to live my life in fear, and I wasn’t going come all this way to the mountains and not get out to explore them.

Hitchhiking!  Picked up by a friendly man who didn’t speak any English but also didn’t make me uncomfortable by following me!

I checked the weather.  It was a perfect day.  And so I did a combination of riding the bus and hitchhiking to get to the trailhead.

Trying to get closer to those whitecaps!

It was a really nice hike. I felt safe and was safe the entire time. I didn’t see quite the views I had hoped for, but I also didn’t see any inappropriate guys sauntering around the mountainside, and I did get outside and explore, so overall, no complaints. I had brought teeny tiny oranges with me that I had purchased in town and rewarded myself at the end of my hike (okay, and also during) with their sweet and delicious juice!

I had a really nice time in Sheki, and I’m glad I went to Azerbaijan. I stayed under budget the entire time; it’s a very reasonably priced country! Then, since my dear friend, Dramamine, had worked so well for me during the bus ride to Sheki, I decided to keep his company once again and take some on the bus to Tbilisi (rather than go back to Baku and take the much more comfortable – but more expensive and much longer – overnight train to Georgia’s capital).

When the bus got to the border, we were let off and had to walk across, which is fairly typical for border crossings. This one was particularly long, though, and we walked for almost 2 kilometers.  

Once in Georgia, I took a taxi (which cost me more than my entire journey back to Tbilisi from Sheki) to the train station. I had timed my journey intentionally to arrive on an odd day (the day the train goes to Armenia). I bought a ticket and had many hours to kill until the train departed at 20:20. It was freezing outside, and I found a cozy-ish spot to read my book, interrupted by a couple of drunk Russians (so I moved and found another cozy-ish spot.  I was eager to sleep as much as possible on the night train and somewhat bummed that Azerbaijan and Armenia didn’t have better relations because, selfishly, I would have liked to take a bus directly from Sheki to Yerevan. #timesaver

But hey, when you’re a rolling stone, you learn that you can’t always get what you want…

…See what I did there?

‘mi

I was feeling pretty down after my Mystery Trippers headed back to the states. Making matters worse, I lost my beloved notebook in Armenia, which had so many memories from my travels scribbled on its pages. And I was now in a country (Georgia, if you’ve lost track of me) where no one spoke English and I didn’t know any Georgian or Russian, so I was riding the mopey train pretty hard.

Oh, and did I mention it was STILL FREAKING CHRISTMAS in Georgia?! #eternalChristmas #wow #enoughalready

All I knew was what number bus I needed to catch to get to my hostel in Tbilisi, Georgia’s capital, and then Murphy’s Law smacked me in the face in the form of that exact bus passing me, not stopping, because it was already full of people. Woe is Sammi. It was a 16km walk to my hostel, so I started on my way, figuring something would happen.  It’s incredibly comforting and empowering to be in a country, not speaking the langauge, and knowing that somebody, (who probably also doesn’t speak your language), is most likely going to stop and offer to help you.  Lucky for me, I was picked up and brought to town by a nice man with a bank logo on the side of his car. I knew that meant he was legit.

I found it sweet that he was willing to help me out even though we couldn’t speak each other’s language. He offered me his pomegranate juice which was still sealed.  I took it because in Georgia, rejecting someone’s drink offer is very rude, and I was in this guys car.  I didn’t want to be rude.  I mean, yes, he did try to ask me if I was married most of the ride, at least I think that’s what he was doing by pointing to my empty ring finger, but he brought me where I needed to go without too much hassle, so I just played along, yammering away in Eeglish.

Normally I use Couchsurfing on my solo travels, but this trip I had been so focused on the Mystery Trippers that by the time they’d left I didn’t have any energy to do anything for myself.  I decided to stay in Tbilisi’s most popular hostel. As I was feeling alone, I was willing to pay a bit more in hopes I would be able to meet some amazing people. Unfortunately, everyone in the hostel was young and drinking heavily, so I ended up hitting up Couchsurfing anway, looking for a friend and found Giorgi from Georgia.  Hilarious.  (But also, turns out, a common name.)

Giorgi is an actual tour guide, so he showed me around town. There is a waterfall right in the center of town, and you can take a chairlift up a mountain for some great views. I learned about Georgia’s conflict near South Ossetia (north), what it meant for the country when the Soviet Union fell, their current struggles and how Russia is still trying to exert its power. Things are pretty crazy out here!

Giorgi also taught me that everything in Georgia is connected to wine: It’s wine’s homeland, and they’ve been making it for 6,000 years. So I ditched the party at my hostel to drink wine with my new boozy tour guide. He brought me home for a nice dinner with his mother, who didn’t speak a lick of English but had the best laugh and made us a great meal. Of course, we also drank some homemade wine.

We both don’t know where to look.

Homemade dolma.

They have the most unique flavor combinations in Georgia, and there is a specific technique to eating certain things.  Of course Giorgi thinks its the best in the world.  For instance, you to have eat khinkali with your hands and bite and suck the juices out without spilling, which is way less fun than being messy, but you’d probably be more demure if you were on a date. They are traditionally made with a blend of pork and beef, but the mushroom was my favorite.

Eggplant with walnut spread and pomegranate.

Deceptively tricky little things to eat, but delicious!

I returned to the hostel after dinner and got to know my fellow travelers — we had quite the eclectic group. There were travelers from Japan, Lebanon, Kazakhstan, Russia, Dubai (UAE), Pakistan, and me from the good ol’ US of A. Not one German! (Nothing against Germans, they are just usually well-traveled.)

Your typical international hostel gathering in Tbilisi.

Muhammad was a 19-year-old from Lebanon whom I found quite inspiring. He was solo traveling on break from University and doing volunteer work teaching children. It was his first time leaving his home country, unless you count the time he was forced to flee to Syria in 2006 because of Lebanon’s war with Israel. Repeat: He fled INTO Syria. Insane.

Anyway, here he is taking a photo of his breakfast, because it was his first time ever eating a pancake.  He said he’s only ever seen it in the movies before this!

I call this “Lebanese Boy’s First Pancake.”

People told us we looked liked siblings, we think it’s because of our half-smiles.

I hung out with Muhammad for a bit, then met two super sweet Iranians (Sajjad and Kazem) who helped me get my visa to Azerbaijan corrected and then invited me to an Iranian dinner.

Somehow, I had shifted from learning about Georgia to Lebanon and now Iran. For instance, did you know that if you speak in Farsi it means that you are Persian? They speak Farsi in Tajikistan and Afghanistan and parts of Pakistan.  Or that a rooster does not “cock-a-doodle-do” in Iran?

I decided to tour the city with Sajjad and Kazem the following day. At one point, we saw a building from above that I knew was a Turkish hamam (that’s a bath, yinz), but the boys were positive it was a mosque, so we made a bet! Hamam or mosque? That was the name of the game.  And you might be able to tell by the look on my face who was right…

That’s right! ME! So proud. (hahahaha, I made them take this photo.)

I had a lot of really innocent fun with Sajjad and Kazem over the next couple days.

I was actually the first American they had ever met, and we asked each other a lot of silly questions.

They taught me the phrase “Tariff ba domesh gerdoo mish kane” (phonetically: taraf bah doemesh geeairdo meesh can-eh, for me), which roughly translates from Farsi to “my tail is wagging.” We then practiced tongue twisters while we ate ice cream straight from the box at a grocery store.

Exploring in black and white.

We had a great day and night together, and since we felt so connected, I invited them to come along with me to a yoga class even though they had never been before (they’d never been to a yoga class!), and they actually came!!  We had to get up early and walk to the class, and it was a total bust. The teacher told us to lie down in Shavasana, also known as “Corpse Pose,” and played a prerecorded tape. Aaaaaand that was it. It was nap yoga, apparently, and we actually paid money for that. The boys will never do “yoga” again, they told me.  I can’t blame them!  If that was my first experience I would never do “yoga” again either.  After I finished apologizing we had a good laugh and moved on.

Naturally, it was their turn to pick an activity, so we toured Jvari monastery and the town of Mtskheta. They had arranged for a Farsi-speaking driver the day before, and when he arrived to pick us up, he looked like this…

Picture not taken immediately upon meeting, for the record.

I pulled the boys aside, and asked, “Do you see that?”

Looks of confusion. Shrugs. They had no clue what I was talking about.

“He has a scorpion tattoo on his neck. The bad guy in every movie ever has a scorpion tattoo on his neck. Not good!”

That laughed at me and assured me it would be fine, and it was, but the guy was pretty weird!

For some reason, he loved Texas, and said, “I want to die in Texas.” DIE?! Why not LIVE, man?!

The boys laughed and Kazem said softly to me, “Sammi, everyone has a wish.”

Here are a few pictures from the day:

Jvari Monestary.

Where I learned that Iranian and American roosters must be very, very different.

Mtskheta town, or “The Point At 3 Rivers.” Pittsburgh in Georgia?!

As you can see, my Iranian friends were the most positive people, always looking on the bright side (except maybe about yoga). We had a delicious Georgian dinner (minus the wine, so Giorgi would say it wasn’t authentic), and chatted the night away. Here are some random things I learned:

Side note: (They love John McCain in Georgia.)

Facebook is censored in Iran, but Instagram is allowed.

Iranians have a very weak passport, it takes 3 months to apply for a Visa to go to Europe. (Let’s not get into America…)

Sajjad is an engineer and Kazem is in his last year of school getting his PhD in Sociology

They both have girlfriends (3 and 6 years, respectively).

They are opposites: Whenever one says “yes” the other leans towards “no” Like, “Do you have this particular fruit in your country?”  One says “yes” they other “no”.

Their moms are great cooks.

Iranians snap when they dance (just like someone I know).

They were just such sweet guys. I talked more with Kazem about his girlfriend, and became rather infatuated with the head scarf. He told me Iran is more liberal than Saudi Arabia, which isn’t saying a lot. It’s illegal for women to take them off in the streets, but sometimes, if they are alone and there’s no one watching or no guard (GUARD?!), the women will remove them.

He dated his girlfriend for a year before he saw her without the scarf. Can you imagine that?! And the first time was through a picture. The first time in person was in a car, and when she took it off, he kissed her. So romantic!  I felt so honored and trusted that he shared this all with me.  Thank you Kazem!!

Unfortunately, I had to leave that night, and if an Iranian has a stamp on their passport from Armenia, they are not allowed to go to Azerbaijan, so we couldn’t continue on together although they said they would come if they could (they had previously been to Armenia)!   Otherwise, it’s embarrassingly difficult for them to get a visa in the USA.  We said goodbye and I told them to invite me out to Iran if they ever had a big life event.  I really hope they do!!  They are such wonderful people ❤

Sunset before my train.

That night, I got on my train to Baku, Azerbaijan, and when we were set to depart, the Iranin boys surprised me at the station to say one final goodbye!!!!!!!!   They had been walking around showing people my picture, asking if they’d seen me, because they wanted to say goodbye.   Awwwwww!!!! Sweethearts!!!! 

Friends for life.   So much love for these two smart, kind, thoughtful humans.

It felt so good to learn so much and spend genuine time with these two wonderful guys, especially right after my friends left. It’s times like these, when you’re feeling alone on the other side of the world, that I feel like you make the most meaningful connections.

If that’s not the Christmas spirit, then I don’t know what is.

So one last time, since it’s finally, finally over. Merry Christmas!

‘mi

So I know you’re just dying to know the Mystery Trip 2018 destination. It’s all you’ve been able to think about since the beginning of the New Year; I get it. It’s all I’ve been thinking about, too (because I’m still here).

For those of you just tuning in, I recently planned and executed mission: take my friends Colleen and Patrick to an unknown destination for the trip of a lifetime. Keep up with the rest of the class and read about it here! There will be a quiz, so pay attention. Just kidding, here’s the CliffsNotes version:

My wonderful, adventurous friends Colleen and Patrick were brave enough to let me plan a trip for them—a trip whose destination would remain *a mystery* until they actually arrived. When we all finally met at the airport, they wore hats, which acted as blinders to keep them from glancing at the arrival/departure monitors. And like angsty teenagers, they put on their headphones to drown out the world and any incoming boarding announcements. So… mystery. Got it? Good. On we go…

We planned to meet at JFK, so when they landed at LaGuardia, they received a lovely text message with a greeting and instructions to come meet me at JFK. Once they arrived, I ushered them through the airport, naturally taking the time to explain the Mystery Trip concept to each person we passed (a speech along the lines of “these people don’t know where they are going, and they don’t want to know, so don’t blow it!”).

As they received more audio and visual clues (e.g., the languages we heard around us, the way people looked and dressed), Colleen and Patrick were prompted to write down some educated guesses about the destination. It wasn’t until we had actually arrived at the gate that Colleen guessed Ukraine.

Survey says: We have a winner!

W E L C O M E    to    U K R A I N E!!!!!!

As soon as we arrived, sweet, smart, hilarious Iryna (a friend I had met two years earlier in Portugal; here’s a link to that story if you need a refresher) greeted us.

Now, you might be wondering “why Ukraine?”

Here’s the thing. I was encouraged to choose a trip that would thrill me since I would be the one doing all of the planning. So I designed a trip that I really wanted to go on! The idea was that these Mystery Trippers were going to be happy no matter where we went, so it was up to me to get excited.

Thus, I planned a trip to visit Iryna in Ukraine because I believe that both life and travel are about the people you meet, and I had wanted to visit Iryna ever since we met. We had loosely kept in touch on social media and through a couple of mutual friends (shout out to Paula and Claire!), and even though we hadn’t spent more than a couple of days together in Portugal, visiting Iryna in the Ukraine was a dream trip of mine.

That being said, I know that Ukraine is not the typical ideal winter getaway. In fact, when we started discussing the plans on Facebook, Iryna the Realist warned: “So, to be honest, Dec. – Jan. is not the best time to visit Ukraine.”

“Sure,” I said, “But will you be free? Because if you are then I’m designing this trip, and we’re coming to see you.”

And guess what? Iryna WAS free! And guess what else? Plane tickets were a good price ($450 USD one way—I may go into the logistics of this trip in another post; although, I mayyyy not. It’s my blog, and I can do what I want to).

Anyway, that’s how Sammi & the Mystery Trippers (great band name) came to spend an entire week in December exploring the Ukraine with Iryna and her two gorgeous sisters, Marta and Yana.

Iryna and her sisters are pure magic; everyone who meets them agrees.

As for the actual trip, we spent several days in Kiev and then headed south towards the Black Sea.

Odessa: Never mind that this photo was taken in the backyard of a Sanitation Factory.

From there, we went to the occupied territory known as  T R A N S N I S T R I A. It’s a rather confusing strip of territory that controls a border and basically declared itself an independent state when the Soviet Union dissolved. We were only allowed to stay in Transnistria for 10 hours. According to the UN, it’s part of Moldova; although, we didn’t get a Moldovan passport stamp. We didn’t get a stamp at all, actually—just the ones from when left and came back to Ukraine. So I guess you could say that for a whole 10 hours, we were off the grid in uncharted territory and unaccounted for! This made Transnistria the second “country” on our trip.

Fine, it’s technically charted, but still![

This is a genuine photo of the moment The Surprise arrived!! Photo credit: YankaPanka

Helen showed up! SURPRISE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On New Year’s Eve, Helen flew in to join us as a surprise to Colleen and Patrick. We had a great night out. Another surprise was in store for the following day…

On January 1st, we woke up and headed to the airport to “return the car” but…

SURPRISE AGAIN! We were heading to another country! The Mystery Trippers didn’t know we were going to multiple countries: A Mystery Trip within a Mystery Trip? It’s like Inception up in here.

They don’t smile in Ukraine, and we were trying to fit in (or they just, like, really wanted to go home). Patrick guessed our next country was going to be Georgia. Helen guessed Bulgaria. Colleen guessed Estonia. All great guesses, but I’ll go with D. NONE OF THE ABOVE. Mwahahahahaha.

Next Question:  Would they still be celebrating (Orthodox) Christmas (on January 7th) in the next country we go to??

Here is a 30-second video (turn up the volume) of the next BIG REVEAL after we had ALREADY LANDED in our next Mystery Country:

A map for the geographically-challenged. Also, Yerevan is the capital. #alwayslearning

Yup! Still Christmas.

It was a quick 24 hours in A R M E N I A, then we literally took a midnight train to
G E O R G I A (not the state) for our 4th country in two weeks.

Here we are in snowy, northern Georgia.

And the next day—just like that—Sammi & Mystery Trippers ended their world tour, and my friends found themselves on a plane back to the USA, leaving me to focus on my solo career.

The only time during this trip that they knew where they were going.

Now you might be wondering… Hey #AdventureSam, this is awfully vague; where are the details? What did you guys do? Well, I’m glad you asked. Patrick and Colleen have volunteered to write multiple posts—in detail—about the trip! I’ll be publishing those as they send them to me.

This particular post was just meant to serve as the reveal; I couldn’t keep you guys hanging for that long. So look for their future posts, which will undoubtedly gush about Iryna, Marta, and Yana, talk about our time in Odessa, explain more of what we know about Transnistria, describe the moment Helen walked into our trip and blew their minds, introduce this blog to our new friend David, and describe our time in Georgia.

Overall, Mission: Mystery Trip was Mission: Accomplished! New friendships were forged, memories were made, we learned a heap, there were multiple surprises and multiple countries… Most importantly we had loads of fun!

Stay tuned for more because, although they may not all be mysteries, the adventures never stop!

‘mi

Here is the final Mystery Trip installment!
A guest blog by Patrick

We frantically wrapped up our time in Yerevan and rushed to the train station, picking up our ailing ‘Surprise’ on the way. While Sammi sorted out our tickets and scouted to ensure a mysterious train boarding, Colleen suggested we try to find some water.

Patrick: “Let’s stay here. We don’t know what time the train is leaving so Sammi might need us to board in a hurry. Plus, there’s definitely going to be water to buy later.” #famouslastwords

‘I Planned This’ led us to our own luxurious cabin, complete with four bunks and light switches that worked. I did a little exploring and our water prospects all of the sudden looked dire. Every train ride I’ve ever been on has been inundated with water purchasing options, usually to the point of being hassled. Not this one. I confirmed that we had 17 minutes until the train was actually leaving and rushed off in search for water. I was directed to the subway station underground, where I found balloons and flowers for purchase. They weren’t water balloons, so I rushed back to make sure I made the train. Colleen was worried that I wouldn’t make it back in time, but Sammi ASSURED her that I would never miss the train. “You haven’t traveled with Patrick like I have…”

I made it back with 13 minutes to spare.

We set off and immediately settled into an awesome adventure. We worked on the Fun-tivity packet (collectively as a group we’ve been to 63 countries!), talked about life, and watched Sammi force cuddles on Helen.

“Come like me!”

We were able to obtain on bottle of water from a guy who worked on the train, and quickly downed most of it like we had been wandering in the Sahara for the past two weeks. Why were we so thirsty?!?

Colleen looked out the window and made the most fantastic comment that summed up the experience, then failed repeatedly to recreate it on camera. We all decided to help out:

We eventually decided to try to get some sleep, which was only mildly inhibited by the constant banging sounds, erratic jostling, inconsistent temperature, and snoring Armenians. Oh yeah, did I mention that we were all DYING OF THIRST? “There’s definitely going to be water to buy later.”

We were awakened when the train ground to a halt around 3:00am and the fluorescent lights in our cabin were slammed on. We handed over our passports to Armenian border agents, who stamped them (see how that works, Transnistria?) and sent us on our way.

We pulled forward for a few minutes and then were stopped as we tried to enter our final mystery country. Once again, we handed over our passports, but this time we waited over an hour for them to be returned. When they were, we had a bright shiny stamp welcoming us to GEORGIA!

Sure, we had guessed that this was where we were headed, but it until it became official, we couldn’t fully embrace this!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GbVr0bGQ278

We managed a few hours of sleep before arriving in Tbilisi (say that 6 times fast!), where we were hit with an onslaught of bad news.

1. Sammi’s notebook was missing. It wasn’t on the train. If you know Sammi, you know that her notebook du jour is priceless, especially when she’s wearing the ‘I Planned This’ hat.
2. Our flight from Kiev to New York was cancelled, meaning we had to reschedule our trip home.

We quickly scanned Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and decided we needed to find an establishment with 1) Water, 2) Wifi, 3) An outlet to charge our phones, 4) Food, and 5) Honey-flavored vodka.

We went to work rehydrating, eating, booking new flights (THANK YOU IRA!!!), sending out an SOS for Sammi’s journal, learning about Georgia, and formulating a plan. In the midst of our planning we were sent over a bottle of (you guessed it!) honey-flavored vodka by a table of drunk guys (it was 9 in the morning, mind you). We had just read that it was extremely impolite to refuse a drink in Georgia, so we choked down enough to not feel bad.

We decided to prioritize trying to get a refund for tickets on Georgian Airways that had been cancelled on Sammi, and after much confusion we located a ticket office that could sort out Sammi’s money. Then we caught a bus to the taxi stand for Stepantsminda. After some hood-of-the-car negotiations with a taxi driver, we piled into a black sedan with the steering wheel on the wrong side and set out into the mountains.

“Good tires. Good tires.”

Our first stop was Ananuri, where we toured an ancient fortress which contained two churches. The castle was perched on top of a cliff overlooking a gorgeous valley, and one church contained a beautiful fresco depicting heaven, hell, and earth.

Sammi: “I think we should buy something.” #somethingequalssnacks

Contemplating eternal damnation while simultaneously thinking about which snacks to buy.

While we were there we bought some snacks. And by snacks we mean super hard dried fruit-rollup type things and nuts dipped in melted fruit. Who knew that kiwis grow in Georgia?

We hopped back in the car and were on our way to Gudauri, a ski resort with a gorgeous mural depicting the history of Georgia. Thank god we had the selfie stick!

Oh! My! Gud(auri)!

She planned this.

We climbed through a snowy mountain pass and descended into Stepantsminda, a cute village 10km from the Russian border. We saw a huge line of trucks waiting to climb the pass on the other side, and learned later that the pass had been closed for days due to snow. Finally, we got lucky!

In the end, this is where Sammi brought us on the Mystery Trip. Surprise!

After checking into our adorable little guest house, we bundled up and headed out in search of dinner. It was freezing!!! Like bone-chilling cold. Thank god Sammi instructed us to wear layers onto the plane! We found some authentic Georgian cuisine and sampled it all.

“What’s that?” “I don’t know.” “Is that yours?” “I guess. I’m not sure.” “Ok, well can I try some?” “I think that was mine.”

We all got some much needed rest (we were still recovering from The Midnight Train to Georgia) and woke up for our final day rearing to climb a mountain. On Ira’s recommendation (THANK YOU IRA!!), we slipped and slid over to a ridiculous luxury hotel for breakfast and gorgeous views.

Breakfast with people who are either rich because they are beautiful or beautiful because they are rich.

Our plan of attack for our final day was to hike to a 14th century monastery precariously located on top of a hill overlooking town. The hike looked ominous from our current position next to the buffet, but we eventually got sick of delicious pastries and decided to take some selfies. Thank god we had the selfie stick!

Try number 47.

Helen decided to hang out with the other beautiful people on account of having the boots with the least traction in the world, so Colleen, Sammi, and I set out on our adventure. We had a gorgeous hike filled with discussions about Rick Steves, future career prospects, people we’d like to reconnect with, and encounters with cows.

We wound our way through pine trees and up the mountain, taking in incredible mountain views and basking in the sunshine. The photos don’t really do it justice. As we reached the top we emerged from the trees onto a vast plateau with howling winds and tons of snow. The last half a mile was incredible as we approached the monastery.

Text from Sammi on December 12: “I don’t think we’ll need snow shoes. But if we do, at least we all won’t have them together. #solidarity”

The monastery was amazing, and the views of the town and surrounding mountains were phenomenal. We soaked them in and took photos before realizing we were WAY behind schedule.

Sammi, Colleen, and Helen. (Helen is just hard to see because she’s sitting in the hotel inside the deformed heart.)

Peace Corps Jamaica in Georgia….pop pop pop!

Not a bad way to end the Mystery Trip!

We quickly hiked/slid down the mountain and met Helen in time to catch the 3:30 bus back to Tbilisi. The bus ride scored mixed reviews. At first Helen and I were terrified to have a view over the driver’s shoulder as he passed on hairpin turns and slammed in and out of traffic. But then we realized he was making the holy cross regularly, and our minds were put to ease. The erratic driving was not appreciated in the back of the bus; both Sammi and Colleen were so nauseous when we arrived in Tbilisi that Helen and I pretended we didn’t have a great ride.

We found a restaurant with wifi and ate khinkali without dripping any juice on our plate (shout out to Davit!). We booked a hotel near the airport and were enjoying the rest of our meal until four men walked onto a stage at the front of the restaurant and started karaoke hour. The volume was set at 11 out of 10; the restaurant cleared rapidly.

We caught a taxi to the airport and arrived at our guesthouse to find no one up but an Armenian family with two little boys that would not stop moving. Their mom was kind enough to engage in an epic game of ‘Google Translate Conversation’, which eventually resulted in us contacting the lady who ran the guest house and sorting out a place to sleep.

We busied ourselves preparing for our return to America. Sammi had Helen choose from the coins she had been carrying around for her, and then promptly threw the rest of the money away. Helen stuffed her bag with the things Sammi didn’t want to keep with her, and Colleen packed her curling iron. We calculated the final cost of the trip (WE CAME IN UNDER BUDGET!) and eventually got some sleep.

We woke up at 4:15am and headed to the airport for a full day of traveling back to the good old United States of America! For the first time in over two weeks, we knew where we were going.

In the end, the Mystery Trip was an absolutely wonderful adventure in a fascinating part of the world. We experienced more in 16 days than many people do in a year, and it was all planned with such care and intention that it was impossible not to have a brilliant time. We owe an enormous debt of gratitude to these two ladies, Sammi and Iryna, for their endless hours in front of a computer making sure that we had the time of our lives. I mean it when I say that I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have wearing the ‘I Planned It’ and ‘Welcome Party’ hats. Dyakuyu!

“PLEASE HELP US!!!”

A guest blog by Patrick

After our incredibly epic New Year’s Eve, we were all looking forward to sleeping in and catching up on sleep. Alas, Ira frantically woke us up in the early afternoon because the car rental company had called and our car was due back in 25 minutes. 25 minutes?!? Are we going somewhere? Oh yeah, this is a mystery trip, and AdventureSam is FULL of surprises…

We frantically packed our bags, ate a hurried breakfast, and then said our emotional goodbyes to our new friends/best friends Ira, Marta, and Jona – we’d be on our own for the rest of our adventures. You have no idea how grateful we were to our new friends for their AMAZING hospitality. We literally could not have had the experiences we did without them. Djo-ko-yu. I mean, ja-co-u. I mean, jo-cow-you. How do you say it again?

We made our way to the airport and it was time for another round of guesses.

Question #1: What country are we going to next?

We finally have the Ukrainian happy face down.

Question #2: Will it still be Christmas there (i.e. are we headed to another orthodox country that celebrates Christmas on January 6)?

How many times do you think Sammi asked us to guess what was next?

Once again, we successfully boarded a plane without know where we were going. #AdventureSam

After a few hours on the plane we landed in our mystery destination. Guess what, we were all wrong! No one even thought to guess Armenia. We were incredibly blessed to have run into our new friend/best friend Davit on the airplane. He was able to help us when the Airbnb Sammi had booked fell through, and he was kind enough to give us a brief history lesson on Armenia as we waited for a taxi to our hostel. Thank you so much Davit!

We arrived at our hostel and Sammi immediately discovered that we were meant to stay there. Our room was fitted with a ‘Mystery’ air conditioner – how fitting.

O. M. G. Another mystery.

After a quick night’s rest, Sammi and I woke up for breakfast. The greasy salami rolls and chocolate cake weren’t Sammi’s cup of tea, so I ate them all. And immediately regretted it.

Sammi informed us that we only had one day in Yeravan, the capital of Armenia, so we had to make the most of it. We immediately set off to a local market, only to discover it was closed. Uh oh. Helen wasn’t feeling well so we dropped her back off at the hotel and set off in the other direction. We encountered a number of incredible sights: a massive statue of a warrior riding two horses, a massive church, blocks of pink-stoned buildings (the rock used for the buildings is a type of volcanic rock called ‘tuff’ that has pinkish hues), world-famous natural drinking fountains, a cool area called ‘cascades’ with stairs and a built-in museum, and delicious food. We were on a whirlwind tour, so in true Mystery Trip fashion we quickly breezed by the sights so we could spend hours on the food. Good decision.

Two horse power.

A massive Armenian church.

Posers.

Still posers.

The pink city.

#eternalchristmas

The centerpiece of our day ended up being a lavish meal at Dolomama, a famous local restaurant. How do we know it was famous? Check out who has eaten there!

We obviously fit right in.

Colleen was kind enough to treat us to an AMAZING meal. Lamb stew, veal, traditional dolmas, baklava, and incredible Armenian wine, vodka, and brandy. Mmmmmm. I’m still full.

Let the feast begin!

Appetizers!

Dolmas!

Veal!

Dessert!

After our epic lunch, we set off on a walking tour of the city but were quickly distracted by a hookah lounge. OF COURSE we had to go in. One quick strawberry hookah later, we left only slightly traumatized by the music videos we had to watch. We hurriedly navigated our way to the wrong pub, only to then hop in a taxi to a different pub. When we got there, SURPRISE, our new friend/best friend Davit was waiting for us. We had another delicious meal (all we actually did in Armenia is eat) and laughed with our new friends. A perfect end to a whirlwind stop in Armenia. Full, slightly tipsy, and very happy, we hopped in a taxi, picked up Helen, and rushed to the train station for the final leg of our adventure…

Yum! Armenian pub food.

Celebrating with our new friends!

Mystery Trip — a recount continues!!!  Over the next several days I will be posting the final 3 blog posts, which follow up Sammi and The Mystery Trippers experience throughout Ukraine…and beyond.  All of these are guest blog posts written by Patrick 🙂

A guest blog by Patrick

We woke up late following our epic evening out in Odessa, and somehow managed to pack and get on our way before noon. Ira and Marta took us straight to a Ukrainian breakfast buffet, where we gawked over the amazing colors and tried our best not to break the delicate cups dessert was served in. We weren’t successful.

A kaleidoscopic display of Ukrainian food. Note: some foods do not taste as good as their colors make them out to be.

Full with purple food and slightly more alive, we hopped into our luxurious vehicle and hit the pothole-filled road. It was a long, dark drive back to Kiev, and all of the credit goes to Sammi and Colleen for safely driving us the whole way. We narrowly avoided a major accident and somehow managed to navigate the craters in our lane without destroying the car. Phew. We also survived our second smorgasbord of the day, after Sammi got excited by the ‘crazy’ chips at a gas station and immediately purchased at least 13 different varieties.

We arrived back in Kiev to find a delicious home-cooked meal waiting for us at the dinner table (thanks Jona!). Cheese pie, local mushrooms, salad, and mystery mashed potatoes (no one guessed celery!) were exactly what we needed, and we laughed hysterically as we recounted our adventures in Odessa to Jona.

Mmmmmmmmmm. Celery mashed potatoes.

We played a Gustav Klimt memory game and built Ira’s new sofa before retiring for a well-deserved night of a rest. We awoke the next morning to the promise of more surprises; what could the final day of 2017 possibly have in store? It turns out, a lot!

We all headed out to the store to buy supplies for our New Year’s celebration, and on the way Ira suggested we pop into a Soviet-style cafe just to see the decor. It was decorated in 80’s Soviet style and was a true walk through history. We ordered some tea and were surprised when the waiters offered us some free champagne for New Year’s!

Reading old magazines in a Soviet-style cafe.

The real surprise came a few minutes later. As we were toasting the New Year and getting ready to take our first sip of champagne, Helen ‘Surprise’ Wildy walked through the door!!!!

SURPRISE!!!

We were so excited to have Helen join us, and were incredulous that Sammi pulled off such a huge surprise! What a perfect way to start out our New Year’s celebrations! We headed to the grocery store to stock up on food and drinks, then returned to the flat to prepare for our daytime activity: we were headed to a floating Russian spa!

We readied ourselves in our ‘something to get wet in’ and headed to the frozen river. Our floating spa was an incredible log cabin complete with an intensely hot sauna, bucket bath shower, and super chill lounge room. Ira showed us the procession: jump into the ice-cold river (literally breaking a thin sheet of ice on the way), run into the sauna, get slapped with branches of oak leaves, then rinse with an ice cold bucket bath. Just another normal New Year’s festivity! We had a refreshing and relaxing time alternating between hot and cold, giving each other New Year’s resolutions, and smearing ourselves with coffee-infused honey. Unless you are Sammi, in which case you just smeared yourself with coffee.

The water was F-R-E-E-Z-I-N-G!

We returned from the sauna and had a restful afternoon in preparation for the evening’s festivities. Everyone got dressed up and we ended 2017 in style. Another delicious home-cooked meal with some traditional Ukrainian dishes and lots of wine. We made a list of the things we wanted to let go of from 2017, and burned them in a letting go ceremony. Then, we spent the final 30 minutes of 2017 sharing celebrations – we all took turns talking about the things were were proud of from the year. It was a wonderful way to end the year, and after many toasts and lots of laughter we rung in 2018 with champagne and fireworks through the windows in Ira’s newly finished room.

Black is the new black.

Happy 2018!

With 2017 successfully behind us, we underwent yet another wardrobe change and headed out to an old converted theater for the most hipster party any of us had been to. Well, except for Marta, who is so just cool. With the exception of the impossibly long coat check line where they ran out of hangers, the party was exceptional: a mystery tent where we played cards with a whale, a back room showing reruns of Russian children’s videos, a live music room with too much drum and not enough bass, sumo wrestling, ping pong, foosball, and an intense dance floor with DJs spinning crazy beats. We had fun all night long, and returned home just in time to watch the sun come up on 2018…

Patrick: “Is it normal for women to be in the men’s bathroom putting mascara on guys?”

Party animals.

“I can’t believe that whale didn’t speak any English.”

Sumo Sammi.

A guest blog by Patrick

We awoke on our final full day in Odessa to the promise of an exciting surprise adventure. Sammi loved making us guess what we were going to be doing, so she started dropping hints.

Hint #1: We’re going to be walking around – wear comfortable your only shoes.

Hint #2: The temperature is going to be a consistent 13℃ (55℉), which is warmer than outside.

Hint #3: People (kind of) make something there.

Obviously, we were going to be exploring a sliver of the almost 3000km of catacombs located underneath Odessa and its environs. Would you be surprised if I told you that Colleen and I did not guess that correctly?

Now I DEFINITELY don’t know where I’m going.

The catacombs of Southern Ukraine provide an incredible slice of the area’s history. Given the limestone geology of the region, people started mining rock to be used for roads and buildings hundreds of years ago. Each brick, which required about 4 hours of painstaking labor to remove, yielded miners a tiny sum of money. Yet, over the course of centuries the catacombs expanded into an unbelievable network of tunnels that can be explored for days on end. From our location approximately 15 miles away, it was possible to walk, crawl, and squeeze all the way to the city centre. You can check out a bit more here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Odessa_Catacombs.

Exploring the depths of the Earth.

We had an amazing tour guide who led us through the twisting passages, explaining the history and geology of the underground labyrinth in Russian. We paused to enjoy the beauty of complete darkness, listened to a symphony created by drops of water, and admired the historic drawings that marked the catacomb walls. Highlights included Colleen and Ira squeezing through the tiniest of crevices like spelunkers, Marta orchestrating some amazing underground photos, and Sammi holding her unlit flashlight at an area of interest for minutes before realizing it wasn’t turned on.

Catacombing.

Creepy. But good color coordination.

When we emerged from the catacombs our senses were assaulted. Being underground for so long was the equivalent of two hours in a sensory deprivation tank: Ukraine never looked so beautiful! It was, in many ways, a spiritual experience.

Our guide expanded upon that: “Most of us think we have to look outwards and explore the outside world to find happiness. But what we really need is to look within and explore the infinite tunnels and passages that exist on the inside.” True.

***

Inside the catacombs I asked one of my favorite questions while drawing a Venn Diagram in the dirt. “If this is a circle of all of the things we know, and this is a circle of all of the things we don’t know, how much overlap is there. In short, how much do ‘we know that we don’t know’ versus how much do ‘we don’t know we don’t know’?

So why do I bring that up? Well, this Mystery Trip was full of an endless supply of knowledge that I had no idea I didn’t know. Ukraine has such a rich history and beautiful culture, yet few Americans know anything about the place. It’s a shame. But that’s the beauty of travel. Not only does it enlighten us about the things that we’re curious about, but it also introduces us to all of the things we don’t know we don’t know. And that sums up the Mystery Trip in a nutshell: a beautiful exploration of all of the things we don’t know we don’t know.

***

We somehow managed to navigate our way back to town (“IIIIIRRRRRRAAAAA!!! MMMMMAAAARRRRRRTTTTAAA!!!”) along construction-filled streets. While on the way we got a call from the Airbnb host saying we were supposed to check out in 4 minutes. Whoops. ‘I Planned This’ had accidentally booked our stay for one less day than planned. As Ira hung up the phone we hit standstill traffic. Uh oh.

When we finally arrived back at our place we had negative 34 minutes to pack up and leave. Did the cleaning ladies fold our dirty clothes for us?

We headed to a hipster market so Marta could feel at home. We also wanted to eat, use wifi to sort out some trip admin, and rest after a long morning underground. We dispersed to source provisions: fresh mussels, snails, whitefish, tiny shrimp, oysters, pizza, bread, and beer. Yummy!

Fine purveyors of Black Sea-food.

Fresh seafood!

We booked ourselves into the Hipstel Hostel solely to please Marta. Just kidding, it got great reviews. Colleen, Marta, and I headed there while Sammi and Ira stayed behind to plan. Apparently something had thrown a wrench in the plans. More on that later.

That pretty much sums up how much of a saint Ira is.

We had plans on our final night in Odessa: some of Marta and Ira’s friends were playing a concert at a hip local bar. After refreshing ourselves at the Hipstel we headed out into the rain for an exciting evening of live music, dancing, and mystery. Our first stop was a bar named Shkaff, where we tried the Shkaff-burger and Shkaff-beer while listening to some upbeat live music. We got in some dancing (Sammi may have even snapped a bit) and had a great time!

Ukranian ‘beer plate’ – deep fried garlic bread, sausages, and (literally) string cheese.

Daamage.

Video: https://youtu.be/prdQPsvfmHs

Music that sounds nothing like Radiohead’s ‘In Rainbows’.

Music that sounds nothing like Peter, Bjorn, and John.

Video: https://youtu.be/itg5VWNXvQQ

From there we stumbled into a Buddha Bar, where we drank warm hemp milk and ordered the most exciting shot on the menu: a Green Mexican. We started a dance party and got lost in some crazy artwork.

“What’s your favorite shot?” “We only serve one.  A Green Mexican.” “We’ll take three.”

“Maybe it’s not the art that’s trippy, but rather the way that you perceive it that is in fact trippy.”

From there it was off to a Soviet bar, where we ate pickles, drank beer called ‘My Dark Past’ and ‘My Bright Future’, and marveled as EVERYONE belted out 90s Russian pop songs at the top of their lungs.

Surveying the menu at the Soviet Bar.

My Bright Future.

My Dark Past.

My Bright Future about four hours before it painfully became my dark past.

Around 3am talk turned to where the night was headed next, and naturally we all agreed that the wisest thing to do was walk down to the beach and skinny dip in the Black Sea. We gave each other New Year’s Resolutions as we ambled in the cold, contemplating how cold the Black Sea was going to be. We found an open convenience shop near the beach, where we purchased paper cups full of vodka to keep us warm while immersed in the bone chilling water. We wasted little time jumping in, and less time jumping out. Within four minutes the entire event was in the books, and we were slugging vodka from paper cups on the way back home.

We wrapped up the evening with a rousing game of Deep Sea Adventure before getting to bed as the sun came up. Keeping with the Mystery Trip schedule, Sammi took the opportunity to inform us of the rough plan for the next later that day: we have to drive back to Kiev. Oh boy, tomorrow’s going to be a long day…

A guest blog by Patrick

We awoke early on our first morning in Odessa with instructions that we were heading out to ‘meet the sun’. We piled into the car and set out with both Ira and Marta navigating with their phones. This led to our first experience of what would soon become a staple of the trip: Ira and Marta arguing over directions.

Marta: “IIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAA!!! [Insert something in Ukranian that was clearly about roads and directions and which way to turn.]”

Ira: “MMMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRTTTTTTTAAAAA!!! [Insert something in Ukranian that was clearly about roads and directions and which way to turn.”

This became such music to our ears that by the time the trip ended we were all saying IIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRAAAAAA and MMMMMMAAAAARRRRRRTTTTTAAAAA during normal conversation.

We were finally guided to the ‘entrance’ to a sanitation plant, which stood between us and our destination. We gently woke up the security guard at the gate, who was comfortably catching some zzzzz’s, and explained we wanted to pass to ‘meet the sun.’ He laughed at us and waved us through. We arrived at our destination: an outlet of the Black Sea known for its ‘healing’ mud that contained incredible amounts of minerals. There were multiple hospitals in the area set up to take advantage of the powers of the black gold. While the mud was certainly an attraction, we came there because Ira and Marta had heard it was a great place to take photos. Being industrious Americans on vacation we quickly got to work.

Are those the pillars in the really good photos we saw on Instragram?

Sisterhood of the traveling red pants.

Meeting the sun.

Maaaaarrrrrrttttttaaaaaaa, you’re Ukranian, why are you smiling?

Marta is SUCH a hipster.

Ira contemplates how badly we are butchering her language.

***

As we returned from our adventure, another trip theme began to emerge. The three Americans in the group were keen to learn as much about the local culture as possible, especially the language. As self-declared ‘savvy’ travelers, we all appreciated the importance of trying to learn the local tongue. So, from the moment we met Ira we began to pepper her with “How do you say ‘this’? Questions.

Here’s how it would go:

Patrick/Sammi/Colleen: “How do you say ‘Thank you’?

Ira: “Дякую.”

Patrick/Sammi/Colleen: “Da-coo-you?”

Ira: “Great.”

Patrick/Sammi/Colleen: (Trying again) “Da-coo-you.”

Ira: “No. Дякую.”

Patrick/Sammi/Colleen: “But we just said the same thing we said the first time.”

Ira: “I know.”

Patrick/Sammi/Colleen: “Ja-co-you.”

Ira: “That’s worse.”

First of all, Ukrainian is very different than any language the three of us have ever spoken. Secondly, you’ve got to appreciate Ira’s willingness to humor us by pretending we were at least close. Thirdly, this exchange never got old.

How do you say ‘straight’? How do you say ‘beer’? How do you say ‘I just want to fill up the gas tank all the way and I want to pay with a credit card without having to go all the way into the store’.

It always played out the same way, with Ira pretending we got it right the first time to placate us in the hopes we would drop it and us not letting it go. Poor IIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAA.

***

We made it back to the city after some more direction-related arguments and headed to Cafe Moloko for breakfast. Can you say hipster lattes?

They served free carbonated water in champagne glasses. We obviously returned multiple times.

Our afternoon plan was to take a walk by the Black Sea, and wow was that gorgeous. The sun came out and we had a lovely stroll along the promenade. We stopped for refreshments: our first introduction to strings of nuts dipped repeatedly in cherry or grape juice until it forms a thick coating (that’s the best way I can describe it) and beer. We passed by beautiful old architecture and slowly descended to the beach.

These steps are famous. No one knows why.

There were quite a few people out enjoying the coast, and there were even a few crazy people swimming in the ice cold water. We took note of that for future consideration. We found a playground and immediately tried to squeeze out what little fun the rusty swings and merry-go-round had left in them. We wandered along concrete piers and celebrated with traditional sandwiches of pig fat and sauerkraut. Yum?

This is a group of Americans having fun.

This is a Ukranian having fun.

This is an American and a Ukranian having fun together.

This is a pig fat and sauerkraut sandwich.

In true Mystery Trip fashion, we had even more surprises waiting for us. THERE WAS A GONDOLA RUNNING BETWEEN THE BEACH AND THE CITY. Marta’s Our only regret was that we didn’t ride it back down so we could take photos with the light on the right side. From there we caught a crowded trolley back to the city centre and ate burgers for dinner.

Up, up, and away!!!

Possibly the best public transport in the entire world.

Following dinner, we quickly got ready and headed out to see a show! Not just any show: Romeo & Juliet at the Embassy of Humor in Ukraine. Embassy of Humor? First of all, can we get our passports stamped? Secondly, now it makes sense – all of Ukraine’s laughter is concentrated in one building.

Preparing our faces for some Ukrainian humor.

Hooray for comedy!

The show provided everyone with exactly what they needed: naps, laughter, Shakespearean drama, and childhood memories.

The Embassy of Humor!

On the way home we stopped by one of Ira’s favorite spots for some flavored liqueur and fish pate. Our favorite part was the bathroom. Until Ira pulled out all of the stops and ordered a potato pastry. Question: Will Sammi and Patrick become addicted to a dense log of sugar? Survey says, yes.

Alcohol flavors: Juniper, Horseradish, Disgusting, or Really Disgusting. That’s right: horseradish was the second best flavor.

We wrapped up another amazing day with a visit to the grocery store, where Sammi and Patrick ‘carried the fruit all the way over to the pastry counter’ to the dismay of a store employee. She weighed our bananas (“Don’t we know how to say bananas in Ukrainian?”) anyway. We responded by ordering several potato pastries…

A guest blog by Patrick

We awoke following Christmas #1 full of excitement: we were heading out on a road trip! Our original plan was to set off early to beat rush hour, but after discovering that our car was parked in by 14 (that’s not a joke!) other cars in the parking lot, we opted for a smoother exit after everyone had set off for work.

Our trusty steed: before and after.

We crossed a huge bridge overlooking Kiev and found the traffic surprisingly minimal – before we knew it we were on our way out of the city. Or were we? The city seemed to go on for miles, prompting the question “Are we out of Kiev yet?” to be repeated for at least an hour.

We had been informed that the drive could be anywhere from 4 to 12 hours long, so got busy settling into our new home. It took two hours to figure out how to get our phones hooked up to the stereo so we could listen to music, and only then did we discover that the only speaker in the car that works was in the front on the driver side. Given that Sammi was going to be doing most of the driving, this was obviously the perfect arrangement.

Sammi: “Can you turn the music down?” Patrick: “What, I can’t even hear it.”

Furthermore, there were a few intricacies to driving in Ukraine. Do you remember when Ira said she doesn’t drive in Ukraine because they have the worst roads in Europe? Well, she wasn’t kidding. We quickly realized that not only did the driver have to be on absolute alert for potholes the size of craters, mountain ranges in the middle of the lane, and darkly-clothed people on the side of the road, but the front seat passenger had to scout as well. The ‘shotgun’ seat quickly became the least desirable in the car.

A few hours in we pulled off the highway to explore. We were drawn to this particular town on the promise of a canyon to explore, but were soon informed by locals that it was definitely NOT worth visiting. Luckily, there was plenty else to keep us busy.

Our first mission was to find some breakfast. Luckily there was a small market set up in the middle of town, and Sammi quickly purchased some bananas and apples from a guy who had a bad English teacher. Of course he did, nothing is good in Ukraine.  We found the sausage shop and bought enough summer sausage to make us forget that Ukraine is a bad place to visit in the winter. Then we found a cafe but the waitress informed us that “Our coffee is bad!” so we followed her advice and went somewhere else. You’ve got to love Ukrainian positivity.  Errr, honesty.

Sammi: “These apples are awful. Do you want one?”

On the way we had to dodge a car that threatened us with switchblades for wipers.

Switchblade wipers. Just in case a Moscovitch tries something funny.

While we were getting our lattes at the convenience store she recommended, I spotted some beer with some interesting labels. The names of the beer ranged from “Why Calling Your Ex is a Bad Idea” to “Why is Psychiatrist Not Cheaper Than Shopping”. I was so excited that I had to buy a bottle, and only then did we discover that the beer was brewed in the little town we were in!

“This is brewed here?!?!?!?”

The locals who dissuaded us from visiting the canyon unsuccessfully tried to convince to hang around all day for the nighttime pig market. It may be the best in Ukraine, but we had places to go and things to see, so we instead followed their directions and passed the brewery on the way to a famous horse breeding complex. We were informed we had to pay to see the horses, so instead we just took lots of photos of ourselves.

Did you know that the Ukranian word for selfie is ‘selfie’?

Those horses are so cool.

The rest of the trip went as ‘smoothly’ as one could expect given we were traveling on the worst roads in Europe. The low winter sun was gorgeous as we passed through rolling fields of farmland. Ukraine is known as the ‘bread basket of Europe’, and its rich black soil is so good that the Nazis harvested it and transported it to Germany during World War II.  We arrived in Odessa in the dark, and retired to our Airbnb following some Ukrainian ‘fast food’ for a good night’s rest.