Oppa! Yassas! Let the party begin!

I spend every night, no matter what ungodly time I come back to the apartment, sitting on the balcony and reflecting on life. Something about the cool breeze and overlooking the Mediterranean puts me in a pensive mood. The beach, I finally get to see the crystal blue waters of Cyprus. I spend the next day at the beach, the pool, and walking around the streets. It feels like a more real version of the French Riviera, no pretenses. In the afternoon, we go to the Cypriot village of Kellaki, where Daniela’s mom and aunts grew up. We drive up mountains to reach the village, stopping at the local church, cemetery, and walk to their childhood home. Walking through the windy cobble stone streets, I see various plants, and even grape vines. This takes me back to my youth, days in Jackson Heights, sitting under our grape vine, in the rain.

The evening festivities included going to a traditional Cypriot restaurant which live music and unlimited food. For 15 euros, the food keeps coming out in rounds, until everyone is thoroughly stuffed. Then comes the shots, there is an old uncle who walks around with a bottle of liquor, pouring shots. Oppa! Eva! We all take shots and enjoy the night. This is the night before the wedding, back in Limassol, we check up on Daniela and then head out to check out the bars. Tempted to go out, we are all exhausted and know there will be more craziness that ensues tomorrow. Me and Marie and others talk about the amazingness of this experience and how sometimes those are the best ones, where you just pick up and go..and make things happen…further reinforcing a life of action.

The day of the wedding, we all arrive at Daniela’s apartment and walk into the dressing the groom. In Cypriot tradition, the gumbaro dresses and shaves the groom, in front of everyone. After the ceremony in a local church, we head to a resort in Pissouri Bay, right on the beach. The reception is outdoors, on the lawn overlooking the beach. Dancing the night away with lovely drinks..and lovelier company. We learn the traditional Greek dance, hand in hand, dancing in circles around the happy couple. What more could I ask for..gazing at the stars on this perfect night. After the wedding, all of us crazies decide to hit up the nightlife in Limassol. Head out at 1am, get back at 4am…get in a cab at 6am for my flight back home. I sacrificed sleep over the last few days, but in return, another experience of a lifetime. I will never forget this trip.

It’s almost comical, this recent string of insane occurrences over the last year and half has got me getting used to and expecting unreal experiences. But I am humbled, and appreciative of the opportunity to step outside my comfort zone and live life to the fullest. So when life gives you an opportunity like this, just take it, trust me..it's worth it, a 1000 times over.

Cyprus Revisited, but this time, below the Green Line

After Peru, the thought of getting on another plane again…EVER, made me want to vomit. But here I am, sitting in O’Hare airport, waiting to board a flight to Cyprus. My friend Daniela from Jersey City who is Cypriot is getting married. And what a nice transition from Peru, she met her husband to be as they hiked the Inka Trail to Machu Picchu several years ago. The travel junkie in me just couldn’t resist. I haven’t been to a wedding in 3 years, mainly due to my crazy travel and school schedule and of course from OD’ing on 10 weddings in 2008. Every time I come to the airport, in anticipation of my next adventure, I turn into a different person. All the worries, to do’s and responsibilities of real life seemingly fade away as I morph into this wanderlust avatar.

So this time, I may be able to swim in the crystal blue waters off the coast of Cyprus, or at least see it. Last summer, we had gone to northern Cyprus, not recognized by the UN or the rest of the world since it is occupied by Turkey. This time, I am going to the south of Cyprus, or as they say, the real Cyprus. I was a bit worried about having a stamp from Turkey in my passport and if that would matter for me to enter the south, but alas, as Daniela said..on the Greek side, Turkey doesn’t even exist to them. The fears of unfavorable stamps (i.e. Israel) in my passport does not apply to this region..only in the Middle East. I google the currency in Cyprus, but am thoroughly confused as some websites say the Cypriot pound and others say the Euro. All I know is I still have Peruvian soles in my wallet and I need to get rid of them.

Now I can explicitly explain my reasoning for coming to Cyprus. Many of my friends were perplexed at the fact that I was going all the way to Cyprus, for a friend’s wedding, for only several days, in the middle of the school quarter, skipping classes, in the midst of recruiting season. I feel like a character in My Big Fat Greek Wedding…erm I mean My Big Fat Cypriot and Columbian Wedding. Of course there is a Niko..Daniela’s gumbaro, similar to a maid of honor, but a male in the Greek tradition. But this title surpases that of just wedding festivities, it is a commitment for life. Her friend Callie tells me about what to expect at a traditional Greek wedding, I can’t wait to see plates being broken.

Her family and friends are so welcoming, I feel at home. There are people here from all walks of life, and countries…because we all care about Daniela this much. I met her a few years ago in my building in Jersey City, she lives on the floor below me, and we became friends. There is something about her I’ve always liked, her love for life and crazy wanderlust self. We both enjoy traveling and meeting new people. Here at her wedding weekend in Cyprus, I have met so many interesting people. I was simply amazed at how much she cares for her friends and wanted to make sure we were all taken care of while we are here. Through the stress, she made sure we all had places to stay. I sit on the balcony overlooking the Mediterranean, in sheer enjoyment of life. Her friends, are all unique in their own way, regardless of age or background, I feel part of the wedding. We all hang out and go out this evening and get to know each other. She is getting married in 2 days, yet she is making sure we are all ok. You don’t meet people like this every day. So I missed a few classes over the past few days…but this experience of a lifetime is just priceless. I live for these moments, spontaneous decisions that seem completely irrational at the time, yet turn into remarkable adventures. When life gets boring, I will have these moments to cherish..always.

Inka Trail: Day 4, Machu Picchu & Wayna Picchu

Inka Trail: Day 3: Are we there yet...?!

Inka Trail: Day 2: Formation of the “Herbie Crew”

Inka Trail: Day 1: Bold Aspirations and Unlimited Energy

The 16 of us unknowingly got on the bus at 6 am, with sheer excitement and bold aspirations of hiking the Inka Trail. Little did we know the details of what it would actually entail; which is probably for the better. So I have 8 kg’s stuffed into a duffle bag for the porters to carry, and my day pack. No phone, no internet, no real communication with the rest of the world, other than among the 16 of us and our guides and porters. Oh and did I mention..no showers for 4 days. This should be an interesting change of lifestyle from the reckless overindulgence of my life in Dubai. Hopefully these 4 days will bring me back to reality, though in an abrupt fashion.

The first day’s hike was supposed to be the easiest. It is a mix of flatlands and hills, with more hills as we progress through the day. We learn some of the key rules while hiking, yell Porter when you see the porters walking by, and always move to the mountainside to let them pass. There is a nice combination of hiking and stopping to learn more about the Incan civilization. It originated in Cusco and the Incans expanded it in a series of circles, with many walking trails, the way they got around. I just watch the porters in sheer amazement as they rip through the trails, carrying 10kgs or more, some of them in slippers. Our guides tell us that they have an annual race to see who can hike the trail the fastest, with some porters making it to Machu Picchu in under 6 hours…just amazing.

Physically I feel ok the first day, but just a little challenged with hiking in the dark as we didn’t make it to the camp site before sunset. You don’t realize how hard it is to walk to a through the grass, down some stairs, across a field, down another set of mud stairs, around some cows and carefully trying not to step in cow shit, to get to the bathroom. Oh yea, and in the DARK. There is no running water, and it’s a hole in the ground, similar to bathrooms in rural India. I just hope I don’t slip and fall in, it requires extraordinary multitasking..holding the flashlight, toilet paper, hand sanitizer all while trying to use the bathroom. I must say, the food is incredible, nothing I’d expect on a 4 day camping trip. We are in the middle of the mountains, yet the chefs make some insane meals on their little burners and portable stoves. They even baked a cake for our tour guide’s birthday. I wish I hiked fast enough to go watch them cook. After star gazing for a bit, we turn into bed as the porters will be waking us up at 5am sharp the next morning.

Andale! Vamos! The extent of our Spanish in Peru...

I can now officially say that I have been to 6 of the 7 continents in the world. I had planned this trip to Peru since this past March, as permits to hike Machu Picchu sell out fast. It is a stark contrast to my usual position of globe wandering alone. This time, there are 16 of us from school, this should be interesting. The 50 degree weather in Lima was not to my liking, as it was about a 50% drop from the 100 degree average temperatures in Dubai this summer. But after all, it is winter in South America. Of the 3 of us who were the first to arrive, the extent of our Spanish was Andale and Vamos, which quickly became the phrases of the trip. It was quite humorous to see us try to piece to words in Spanish to string together sentences that didn’t make any sense. Thus we resorted to pointing and gestures to enhance our version of broken Spanglish.

We spend the first day walking around the old city; it reminds me of the plazas and streets of Madrid. We meet some Israelis and hang out with them for part of the afternoon; I wonder why I hadn’t met them just a few weeks ago when I was in Israel. The local drink of Peru, the pisco sour, I wasn’t a fan of at first, but I did enjoy the passion fruit version. Gazing out the window on the plane ride to Cusco, I see the snow covered peaks of the Andes mountains on one side and barren terra cotta mountains on another side. It reminds me of flying into Queenstown in New Zealand.

Cusco is one of the coolest towns I’ve ever been to. I could get lost in the narrow and layered streets for days. As Cusco is surrounded by mountains, there are amazing views, no matter which street you are walking on. We have to spend at least 2 days here before the Inka Trail hike in order to acclimatize to the altitude of 11,000 feet. Stupidly, the first day we decide to hike up to find a site called Saqsayhuaman --> aka Sexy Woman. We joked that the guys were on a quest for a sexy woman..though they were rather disappointed at the peak. Of course, we didn’t know that we’d have to hike up to the top of the mountain overlooking the city to find it. It is the strangest feeling, to be completely out of breath, my heart racing, yet I am not tired. This is the affect of the altitude on us as we hike up the stairs to the top of the fortress. My lungs feel like they are about to burst, yet I am not even breaking a sweat. Though I am chewing on coca leaves to help adjust to the altitude, it is not quite working yet.