The rest of our short stay in Istanbul was fascinating. We went to the Blue Mosque, outside of which there are Turks washing their feet in these stone sinks lined up all around the building. Afterward we roamed the Hippodrome, this lovely park between the Blue Mosque and the Saint Ayasofia, during one of the many prayer hours. We could hear the amplified sounds of the Islam singing and chanting echoing across the square. One building would sing, the other would respond, a whole call and response.

Turkey is a maxi-consumerist culture to the highest degree. As one roams the street you are constantly chased and heckled by these small-time vendors hawking trinkets, fake watches, carpets and other shit. They are very, very aggressive and try all kinds of tricks to engage your attention, such as asking what time it is or asking where you're from or if you've visited this site or that site -- anything to draw you in. Once they've got you in conversation it quickly turns into a hard sell to buy bullshit.

Also there are a number of extremely hot & well-dressed young Turkish men in suits who linger around the mosques promoting themselves as guides to any tourist who glances in their direction. Several even accused me of being rude because I didn't respond to their needling. We had to put on our tough New Yorker faces the whole time just to get through the day. A bit daunting at first, even for us.

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Upon arriving in Istanbul we were off the boat less than five minutes when we were shouted at and reeled in by this pretty, pretty boy offering us shoe shines. He was about 19 or 20. We made the mistake of giving him the time of day when asked, then he chased us down the street nearly two blocks trying to scam us on everything under the sun. Needless to say in my bachelorhood I would have propositioned this young Turk for sex instantly without a split second of hesitation. And probably gotten it. But I would not spoil my beloved's holiday for anything on Earth, so we moved on. The mercantile mania!

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Our other Turkish port of call was Izmir. The town itself was ugly and industrial, so we took a tour bus (something I almost never do) some two hours away to the town of Kusadasi to see the ancient Greco-Roman ruins of Ephesus. The second we arrived we were enthralled, it was really incredible. We saw the remains of the city brothel and the ornamental footprints in the marble that once signified a house of ill repute. There were communal commodes still there, basically ditches dug in the ground covered by a marble bench with a line of holes in it. The toilets were unisex. In colder months the wealthy would send their slaves to sit on the holes first to warm it for them. Also there was the ruin of a great colesseum where theatre productions were enacted and the remains of a great library. The grounds were pretty big but evidently only 10 percent of the ancient city has been excavated.

Our pleasure at seeing the Ephesus ruins however was blunted on the trip back to the boat. Our tour bus was diverted to some roadside leather outlet where we were herded and locked into a back area, made to sit through this hideous fashion show, then given the hard sell by a team of salespeople pushing coats. This little side trip was not mentioned anywhere in the tour literature nor the cruise director's orientation. Of course we marched right out without buying anything, as did most of the other tourists. But because we were in the middle of nowhere and basically at the mercy of our driver and tour guide, we were forced to sit there for nearly an hour while two women shopped for coats.

We were all set to complain upon returning to the ship until Slavika the casino manager told us that the cruise company has been fighting for years with the tour company over these unannounced sales pitches. But the Turkish powers that be have refused to budge, and the cruise company backs down because they need to offer the Turkish tours to remain competitive with other cruise lines. In both Turkey and Egypt it's the policy to not only condone such practices but encourage it.

Later we found out through shipboard gossip that one of the two women who bought coats and kept everyone on the bus waiting received the wrong coat and way overpaid. She discovered the deception too late (we had already left port) but the cruise people refused to get involved as they are not affiliated with the leather showroom. I felt sorry for her after that .... she was led to the trough and told to buy, then when she did she was ripped off.

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The cruise director aboard the Perla is named Sharron. Picture the World Famous *BOB* (pre-weight loss) with a short, dykey hairdo in navy pant suits and low heels. Love her. It was like having one of our own watching over us the whole time.

Mykonos is GORGEOUS. It's pre-season here, but still lovely. All white adobe houses with blue shutters and lots of winding pedestrian streets. I tried to buy my uncle a Cuban cigar but the shipments haven't arrived yet. We sat at a seaside cafe having fresh seafood and watched the sunset, so romantic and magical. I'd like to return during a warmer month.

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Crete (home of the Minotaur) was fine but I don't see the point of returning. It had more of a big city feel to it, and I'm interested in more of the rustic village setting for a vacation. We walked through some key squares, snapped some photos, bought some trinkets, and went back aboard the ship.

The last island we visited on the cruise was Santorini. In a way it's great that this destination was saved for last on the itinerary because the views are so spectacular and panoramic. The town is built into the side of a cliff of volcanic rock. The Perla was too big to pull up right into the bay, so we had to disembark by boat slip, just like in Patmos. I love that ... it feels like such an adventure. Once at the shore we took these speeding cable cars up to the top which was kind of thrilling. The town itself is divine, but the island is much bigger than we expected and there are whole other townships and regions (including some nice beaches) on the other side. We settled into a cliffside cafe and had drinks while enjoying the breathtaking view of the volcano and bay. It would be fun to rent a house or apartment here for a couple of weeks in the warmer season.

We walked down using the donkey trail! It's this huge zig-zagging trail of small stone steps. (The only way up to the top of the cliff is via cable car or on the back of a donkey. We didn't have the heart to use the donkeys -- felt sorry for them) Naturally the trail is covered in donkey shit. When deciding whether to take the cable car back down or walk, the boyfriend asked, "but what about the donkey shit?" to which I added "we can just step around it". That strategy lasted for about 5 steps -- there was just too much of it ground into the stones to avoid. But we went through it anyway .... it took us about half an hour to get all the way down to where the boat slips were at the shore. Along the way we passed a herd of donkeys. We were nervous about getting kicked as we had to squeeze behind some of them to get by, but we passed without incident.

I miss my doggie. Can't wait to see him.

Back in Athens for a final night before flying home. Now that the Easter holidays are over the city is decidedly more crowded and busy.

This time we walked through some neighborhoods and back streets that are quite lovely. It was good to see this prettier side of the city. Also nice to roam around without any agenda. Our hotel gave us a gorgeous room on the top floor with a gigantic flower-covered terrace and a better view of the Acropolis than we had on our previous two nights. We plan on a nice romantic dinner out then lounging on our terrace with good wine.

We read that the Greeks consider any consumer goods manufactured in their own country to be "not cool" or of inferior quality. As a result they rely heavily on imports. They are subsidized by the European Union, but it's really affected their economy. Athens has a burgeoning art scene but so far have turned out no major international art stars.

or any 'stars' for that matter ... other than Daddy!!!

Well...
Me and this guy.

OH ... and Nana... how could I have forgotten Nana...

Just hope Lex comes back with some souvenier Nana spec's....

Lexxy your travelogues are always spectacular!
You ought to get a freelance job travelling for a living and writing places up. Esp. the sex angle! "I was seriously getting weak in the knees as my suppressed swinging bachelor-slut gene kicked me in the groin over and over and over".... hah! Think about it... just tell your boyfriend you have to "do research."

The visuals of you being swacked in the Turkish baths... how you saw the Acropolis... the path of donkey shit, etc. it's all so vivid. Thanks for taking us there.

Johanna Constantine was taken to Turkey by a friend for a 3-week tour a few years ago... they went first-class and helicoptered into all the different ruins. Apparetly there's NOBODY out at alot of these places. Tour buses don't make it there. There was some ancient city (forgot name) built into the side of a cliff, like the Anasazi out here in N.Mex. Check out helicopter tours the next time you go. (That side trip for leather coats must have been dreadful but reads hilarious!)

Lots of love... don't worry the puppy will be fine with Miss Lauren.

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I agree Lex. Bravo for your travelogue ability. Makes me want to go there.

Thanks for the nods, girls. It was an amazing, unforgettable trip to be sure.

I recognize that my recent g-rated travel blogs lack the titillation factor of my overseas sexploits of the past. Hope the quirky details make up for it.

One of the best things about the trip was the cruise itself and the funny, sometimes odd cast of characters whose paths we crossed. The passenger list was international, but many were retired couples and widows from middle America. I'm embarrassed to admit I had to restrain myself from labeling people Bush supporters based on their regional dialects, hairstyles and fashion choices. (Even if they did vote for her, I give them credit for being open-minded enough to travel overseas at all -- many Americans never leave the U.S. and don't want to.) What was nice however was how well everyone got along. The serving of meals is coordinated so that strangers sit together over lunch, dinner and sometimes breakfast, though not always the same strangers. I know this arrangement sounds horrifying and on some cruises I'm sure it is. But we made out just fine, probably because this cruise featured a sightseeing itinerary rather than a beach-going one like so many of the Carribbean ships. So the various port excursions gave everyone common ground and experiences to share. Nevertheless it must have been obvious to everyone we dined with that we were a gay couple rather than just friends, and not once was an unkind look, gesture or word leveled at us.

Our favorites were Florence and Fran, two widows in their 70s traveling together. Fran, who used to spend summers in Atlantic City when her husband was still alive, gambled with us on several nights. Florence was great, she loved disco dancing and walked up every steep embankment, foothill and staircase the island trips had to offer, walking cane notwithstanding. A real trooper and full of life.

There was the JAP-py but very fun thirty-something girl from Boca traveling with her 70-ish mother. Both dressed very well in stylish cocktails dresses by night and bolero jackets by day. The mother was putty in our hands once my spouse told her she easily passed for 60.

And there was the chatty Grande Dame grandmother from Ohio traveling with her 16 y.o. granddaughter. We lunched with them one day when we were both disgustingly hungover from a night of gambling and binge drinking in the casino. The grandmother led conversation for the whole table (fortunately) with many lively stories of past foreign travels to tell and inquiries over what everyone was reading during our spare hours aboard the ship. She and I compared notes about Rome, and later we bumped into her on our flight back to NYC. She claimed to have lost her passport just before boarding the plane, then later found it amongst her things.

Patty & "Mickey" (as in the Disney mouse and the Toni Basil 80s hit). My spouse swore they were dykes, I wasn't sure. They were from California and had that hippy-ish Berkeley look that can be mistaken for gay but is really just granola. Who knows. They were latched through a teacher friend of theirs onto a traveling group of high school students from New Hampshire - four boys and ten girls. One of the boys, the only sophomore among three seniors, was a cute loner geek somewhat shunned by the other kids, so Peppermint Patty and Mickey took this boy under their wing and then starting hanging out with us.

The casino dealers I already mentioned. We would tease Igor about getting naked in Mykonos and he teased right back. Peppermint Patty and Mickey hated Slavika, the casino manager, because she wouldn't let their underage teen friend Cameron into the gambling area but said nothing when the 12-year-old daughter of one of the Greek gamblers showed up every night to check on her dad. Money talks.

Then there was the married queen and his (biological female) wife. You would have to be Helen Keller not to know this man was obviously gay. It hit you like a MAC truck. She was good-looking in a creepy closeted Republican way and worked Indiana Jones outfits and hats ... it was all we could do to keep a straight face (no pun intended). His wife was a completely sexless BLOB, a real hippo. I felt sorry for her as they consumed much alcohol, probably to substitute for the lack of a sex life. Fortunately they were seated at the far opposite side of our table, though when my beloved volunteered that I was writing a novel, the cow blurted out, "Really? Sounds great -- I'm such a drama queen!"

The doctor from Washington DC who ate two lunches every day (one onboard, one ashore) while his wife slept until 2 p.m. every day. He was a sweetheart though who encouraged me at Blackjack.

And so many others! The life of the crew is hard though. They work 7 days a week for 8 straight months, April through November. Then they have 4 months off. No wonder they have girlfriends/boyfriends in every port.

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The 2004 Olympics had a dramatic effect on Athens, the host city. Various municipal projects that languished for decades (mass transit upgrades, construction, clean-ups) were rapidly speeded up to be finished in time for the Games and the worldwide press at a cost of nearly 2 billion dollars. In the end the Olympics proved to be a sizeable financial loss for the country, and it will take 20+ years to pay back what was spent. The subject is still hotly debated among the Greeks. Athens city dwellers support the genetrification gamble, arguing that the investment put Athens back on the map as a tourist destination with other European capitals, a goal the country has wanted for years. The rest of Greece resents it, calling it a huge waste of money that only benefits the people of Athens.

A sad sidebar to the whole issue is the plight of the city's stray dogs and cats. According to another dog parent I saw this morning at the park, the stray animals are treated as rats by the Athenians, and prior to the 2004 Olympics the problem was widespread and out of control. The municipal government distributed poison to kill off many of the strays to prevent the international media from honing in on it.

Meanwhile our much-anticipated reunion with Napoleon went off well. The three of us were ecstatic to be reunited. Our baby looks thinner than usual but otherwise in good spirits. Perhaps I'll bake him some Tater Tots this afternoon. His boot camp Mistress-Nanny Cupcake Domination left us a 4-page note about all the new commands she taught him.

We went out early for our usual Sunday morning walk and we saw some of his doggie friends at the dog run including Olive, Alma, Chester and Chula. He's slightly out of sorts, as am I. But there's no place like home.

xo
Napoleon's Daddy.