Camera: NIKON D50
Timestamp: Sun Sep 30 14:41:35 2007
Shutter: 1/400 s
Aperture: F10
ISO speed: 800
Focal length: 18.0 mm
Focal length in 35mm equivalent: 27.0 mm
Lens: 18-55mm F3.5-5.6
EXIF data read by Exiv2 0.12
Postprocessing done with the GIMP
Showing posts with label Turkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Turkey. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 16
Sea View, from the Top of Alanya Castle, Turkey
Camera: NIKON D50
Timestamp: Sun Sep 30 14:41:35 2007
Shutter: 1/400 s
Aperture: F10
ISO speed: 800
Focal length: 18.0 mm
Focal length in 35mm equivalent: 27.0 mm
Lens: 18-55mm F3.5-5.6
EXIF data read by Exiv2 0.12
Postprocessing done with the GIMP
Monday, October 15
Surrounded by Infinity
Camera: NIKON D50
Timestamp: Sun Sep 30 14:36:48 2007
Shutter: 1/400 s
Aperture: F10
ISO speed: 800
Focal length: 38.0 mm
Focal length in 35mm equivalent: 57.0 mm
Lens: 18-55mm F3.5-5.6
EXIF data read by Exiv2 0.12
Postprocessing done with the GIMP
Friday, October 12
On top of Alanya Castle, Turkey
Camera: NIKON D50
Timestamp: Sun Sep 30 14:35:49 2007
Shutter: 1/320 s
Aperture: F9
ISO speed: 800
Focal length: 20.0 mm
Focal length in 35mm equivalent: 30.0 mm
Lens: 18-55mm F3.5-5.6
EXIF data read by Exiv2 0.12
Postprocessing done with the GIMP
Saturday, October 6
paradise
View from the terrace, at the motel me and Si stayed, before boarding the ferry to return to Cyprus.
Friday, October 5
Saturday, September 29
about being thrown out ... thrice (aka, the Bone Club Hotel)
I've been to the entrance to Bone Club Hotel three times now.
The first time, I told myself that the security guy was tired; He simply didn't let me get close to reception no matter what I did. It took me half an hour to convince him that I HAD to get to reception to ask one question.
The second time was today. I met the day shift (different people, some of the smiling) and I managed to leave a hand-written message for whenever Si arrived (yes, they confirmed she checked in).
Now, I've simply been thrown out, in a polite fashion-of course. WTF is this?!? Guys, I had a pre-payed reservation there. Here's a hint: if you throw out your paying customers, they'll stop comming to you. More than that, they'll put stories on the internet about you; true stories, about how you throw customers out, for no reason at all.
Maybe it was a matter of communication. Maybe they didn't like my look? But WTF?!? I was supposed to sleep there tonight, and instead wasn't even offered a place to wait for Si.
My friends (and casual readers, and people who reached this post by mistake, and all the internet): don't go to bone club hotel! You can't get in unless you speak Russian (I've checked with English, German, Italian and Romanian). Once you do get in*, you'll be ... err ... politely asked to go away - yes, even when you have a reservation (Es tut mir leid, aber jetzt mussen leider Gehen!).
* - To get in, simply stop people as they pass in front of the hotel, ask them if they speak German, English or Italian, then ask them to translate to the Turkish-Russian Security guy that you must (as in any normal hotel) speak to reception.
The first time, I told myself that the security guy was tired; He simply didn't let me get close to reception no matter what I did. It took me half an hour to convince him that I HAD to get to reception to ask one question.
The second time was today. I met the day shift (different people, some of the smiling) and I managed to leave a hand-written message for whenever Si arrived (yes, they confirmed she checked in).
Now, I've simply been thrown out, in a polite fashion-of course. WTF is this?!? Guys, I had a pre-payed reservation there. Here's a hint: if you throw out your paying customers, they'll stop comming to you. More than that, they'll put stories on the internet about you; true stories, about how you throw customers out, for no reason at all.
Maybe it was a matter of communication. Maybe they didn't like my look? But WTF?!? I was supposed to sleep there tonight, and instead wasn't even offered a place to wait for Si.
My friends (and casual readers, and people who reached this post by mistake, and all the internet): don't go to bone club hotel! You can't get in unless you speak Russian (I've checked with English, German, Italian and Romanian). Once you do get in*, you'll be ... err ... politely asked to go away - yes, even when you have a reservation (Es tut mir leid, aber jetzt mussen leider Gehen!).
* - To get in, simply stop people as they pass in front of the hotel, ask them if they speak German, English or Italian, then ask them to translate to the Turkish-Russian Security guy that you must (as in any normal hotel) speak to reception.
Thursday, September 27
priorities
So ... yeah ... it's a quarter to twelve AM (almost Friday), and I just got to Alanya.
I need to find some place to sleep, need to find Si (stil not sure if she was coming over today or tomorrow) and I desperately need a shower or three, and what do I do?
Enter the first internet cafe, to check if any new comments appeared on my pictures on flickr, of course!
Damn priorities!
I need to find some place to sleep, need to find Si (stil not sure if she was coming over today or tomorrow) and I desperately need a shower or three, and what do I do?
Enter the first internet cafe, to check if any new comments appeared on my pictures on flickr, of course!
Damn priorities!
Tuesday, September 11
Sunday, September 9
random impressions
Well ... I don't have time to stay ... I still have two hours of light to travel through ... or something like that ...
I will post some more soon, but for now, here are some random impressions:
First, there was a definite lack of burning bushes in both dirrections, so I chose for myself: I picked the trucks road (the other one was mountain road, full of holes and curves).
The Customs in Tasucu is full of frogs. I mean, the grass in front of the cutoms office is, and they all come out after dark.
There's something that the Turkish people beat the Cypriot people at, hands-down: putting garlic into food; I mean ... the Turks do, the Cypriots, don't. Cypriots should learn!
The Turks answer the phone by saying
Turkish hospitality rules. Especially since they don't do it to sell you stuff. I was invited for tea at a gas-station in the middle of nowhere, just to take a break ... well ... a tea and sign-language conversation :)
The worst decision for this trip was getting the saddlebags I got. They were held by crappy zippers (Zippers for Pete's sake!). On a bump (or another) last night, I lost the right-hand-side saddlebag as the zipper died peacefully and so went all my tools to tool heaven (I don't even have a key).
As a result, I moved all the spares in the other saddlebag into my backpack and ditched the bag: it was just breaking my balance.
Crappy saddlebags!
I will post some more soon, but for now, here are some random impressions:
First, there was a definite lack of burning bushes in both dirrections, so I chose for myself: I picked the trucks road (the other one was mountain road, full of holes and curves).
The Customs in Tasucu is full of frogs. I mean, the grass in front of the cutoms office is, and they all come out after dark.
There's something that the Turkish people beat the Cypriot people at, hands-down: putting garlic into food; I mean ... the Turks do, the Cypriots, don't. Cypriots should learn!
What would you like as a main course, sir?(I had picked four kinds of salad, bread, butter and watermellon).
I'ma vegetarian - this is my main course
The Turks answer the phone by saying
Efendi?
Turkish hospitality rules. Especially since they don't do it to sell you stuff. I was invited for tea at a gas-station in the middle of nowhere, just to take a break ... well ... a tea and sign-language conversation :)
The worst decision for this trip was getting the saddlebags I got. They were held by crappy zippers (Zippers for Pete's sake!). On a bump (or another) last night, I lost the right-hand-side saddlebag as the zipper died peacefully and so went all my tools to tool heaven (I don't even have a key).
As a result, I moved all the spares in the other saddlebag into my backpack and ditched the bag: it was just breaking my balance.
Crappy saddlebags!
Saturday, September 8
In customs
I'm ın Customs. Some people are carpenters, some are singers, or computer programmers, or insurance agents; I'm in customs.
This is what I do, and I'm happy with it.
I've been in customs, for three hours and ten minutes (and 55...56...57 seconds), but who's counting, right?
I mean ... not me!
We arrived in Tasucu around six, then my whole life changed: we arrived in customs.
I've walked to and fro, to get a stamp on the passport, then to get a visa (I thought they were the same thing, but you learn something new every day), then to pay an 18YTL tax on the motorbike (it might have been a road-tax, or a processing tax, or a "your bike is orange" tax - I'm not sure, I don't speak the language).
Now, I'm waiting for the guy who ran away with my passport and motorbike registration to come back, hopefully with a new insurance.
I can't blame them (they're solving my insurance problem and I don't see anything wrong with that).
One more thing: on the ferry, I had a nice conversation with a 30-years-of-experience truck driver.
The conversation was interesting, in that he didn't speak English (nor Romanian, Italian or German for that matter), and I didn't speak Turkish.
Also, it was interesting as it was translated by Tarik, 19, who for some reason or another got it in his head that he would convert me to Islam, but I digress.
As a result of this conversation, I have a (theoretical for now) new route, that's supposed to be shorter by a couple of hundred kilometers, and have a better road.
I'm in no position to decide though, not until I get a local map, a good night's sleep, something to eat and a divine sign.
A burning bush will do :)
This is what I do, and I'm happy with it.
I've been in customs, for three hours and ten minutes (and 55...56...57 seconds), but who's counting, right?
I mean ... not me!
We arrived in Tasucu around six, then my whole life changed: we arrived in customs.
I've walked to and fro, to get a stamp on the passport, then to get a visa (I thought they were the same thing, but you learn something new every day), then to pay an 18YTL tax on the motorbike (it might have been a road-tax, or a processing tax, or a "your bike is orange" tax - I'm not sure, I don't speak the language).
Now, I'm waiting for the guy who ran away with my passport and motorbike registration to come back, hopefully with a new insurance.
I can't blame them (they're solving my insurance problem and I don't see anything wrong with that).
One more thing: on the ferry, I had a nice conversation with a 30-years-of-experience truck driver.
The conversation was interesting, in that he didn't speak English (nor Romanian, Italian or German for that matter), and I didn't speak Turkish.
Also, it was interesting as it was translated by Tarik, 19, who for some reason or another got it in his head that he would convert me to Islam, but I digress.
As a result of this conversation, I have a (theoretical for now) new route, that's supposed to be shorter by a couple of hundred kilometers, and have a better road.
I'm in no position to decide though, not until I get a local map, a good night's sleep, something to eat and a divine sign.
A burning bush will do :)
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