First, I must post a few warnings concerning this chapter:
1. There will be one obscenity, maybe two - bear in mind it is important to the story line and that is why I am putting it in. While I have the mouth of a sailor in real life, I find it a bit crass to drop f-bombs all over my writing (it doesn't flow as one would hope)
2. Corey - this is a long one. You might want to save it for when you have a lot of time and are in desperate need for distraction. Might I suggest printing it out and reading it on a bus trip? I believe you have some coming up.
3. I have yet to decide if we will travel through the time chronologically or ummmm...please read a good antonym for chronologically. If you must have order and logic, this is not the chapter for you...maybe.
4. (Sorry, lost my train of thought as I had to take a bathroom break)
4. There will be mention of the bathroom
5. (Again I lost my train of thought. I watched a movie trailer...Okay, I watched ten movie trailers.)
Alright, it's clear that I can't focus on the task at hand and I must bid you farewell until I can redeem myself. I will drown my sorrows in fresh gingerbread and whipped cream (visiting here with mom is SO awesome)
Okay, I’ve pulled myself together...more than a week later (you didn’t know it but I started this post October 18....and it is now October 26. Corey, my earlier suggestions and surmises about road trips no longer apply as I believe they have all finished...my bad)
To Judy and Jeff, this one is for you. I am delighted to know that people read this enough to demand more, I mean...want more. (Dad, W, A, don’t get angry...I love you all very much and look forward to your comments on every post, but let’s face it...you’re family. You guys have to write or else I’d melt into a ball of gibberish and crazy talk...more than I already have.)
Here’s the plan - I have many stories to tell and the idea of organizing them into a perfect narrative is daunting (“I’m gonna shut off the computer and never type again” daunting...this might be why I haven’t posted in so long). So, I’m going to tell a story and if it becomes apparent in the middle that I need to fill in background info with another story...I’ll do so.
We begin with a tale of a city by the sea...the Mediterranean Sea...the city of Akko, or Acre...maps, people, and highway signs have yet to come to a consensus. I mentioned Akko (I choose Akko, because it sounds like Iko and it makes me think of a song I like), in an earlier story about Spice Man Spiff, the greatest spice warrior that has ever lived...or that I’ve ever met, but it was only in passing and the city deserves more than that.
We (meaning C, Mom, and myself) first traveled to Akko back in September. On our drive up, we came across some lovely scenery
and some struggling travelers
(I think Claire said it best, “Mattress Man, we hope you made it”)
and the Newark of the Holy Land.
Oooooooooooo...pretty.
We also drove through an industrial district which had a more colorful side (I refrain from saying seamier side...well, actually I didn’t) as this photo demonstrates.
Perhaps the Holy Land isn’t so holy?
Anyway, we arrived in Akko to see the sunset from our hotel room
and collect ourselves before dinner. We had been told (by our guide book) that we needed reservations and had made them a week earlier. The necessity of reservations had led me to believe they would expect more formal attire than my everyday wear, so I dressed accordingly, as did mom and C. When we hopped out of our cab and strode confidently up to a waiter, informing him that we had a Reservation...only to be met with an odd look and silence. He called over another waiter and we again said, with somewhat less enthusiasm, that we had a reservation (at this point I had some reservations about our choice of restaurant, but Frommer’s had never steered us wrong before...). The new waiter spoke English and understood us and, with a small smile, took us to our table. Upon seeing the dining room (a large concrete patio with a metal siding roof, a sea of tables and plastic chairs...and about five people eating on food laden islands far distant from one another) we understood the confusion and smiling...seriously, who makes reservations over a week in advance for the world’s biggest and most deserted restaurant? All that aside, the food was delicious. The view was also amazing...but completely impossible to capture from my phone camera. C had some fish, as we were in a port town with lots of fresh fish and she’s kind of a fishy person anyway, and it was delic..ious. It came with it’s face intact, a face that even a mother would have trouble loving, and almost seemed to growl at C, but she schooled him and we had no more of that nonsense.
Besides the view and the mouthy meals, Abu Christo (that’s the name of the restaurant) also provided us with companionship
While he (and yes, I’m sure it was a he...unfortunately) was a bit needy, he was very pretty...kind of a Derek Zoolander of the feline world.
Okay, so we ate dinner, went back to our hotel, indulged in English speaking TV (thank you VH1), and went to bed. The next day, we went back into the city and after paying the overinflated taxi fare (freaking taxis) we planned our assault on the walls.
We decided that they were too big to attack and instead chose to walk on them and learn their history...I know, we’re total pansies. But before we did that (can you tell that I forgot to add something in the story and now have to come back and add it in with a rough transitional phrase...or in this case transitional word?), we went to see El Jezzar’s Mosque. El Jezzar, also known as “the Butcher” (and not in a good way), was very big in Akko. He had a mosque built in his name. He was very mean. That is today’s history lesson. He may have had something to do with Napoleon, I can’t quite remember. Anyway, the mosque was pretty cool and completely deserted.
Most of the decorations (columns, marble, other pretty stuff) were taken from nearby Ceasarea (more on that later). We came to the conclusion that stealing is bad and people really know how to do courtyards in the Mediterranean. Obviously we celebrated these conclusions by buying hats. (I didn’t really have a smooth connector here...obviously)
Mom is a very fancy lady.
Claire is quite mysterious and chic.
This was our first group effort at a hat for me...clearly I am not happy in my baby bonnet.
This hat was my destiny, so perfectly does it match my Electric Lemonade Backpack (thank you Waltus Maximus). Armed with knowledge and new hats we approached the city walls with renewed vigor.
The walls were large and had many placards in our mother tongue detailing Napoleon’s failed siege of Akko (poor Napoleon, no Akko and no Russia). C, being a natural teacher, was not satisfied with the knowledge that had been imparted to us and so read aloud from the history given by Frommer’s (they really know their stuff).
I believe her exact words at that moment were, “Mom, let me inform you.”
After wandering around and taking many photos that showed off or glorious headgear (because, really, who cares about history and stuff)...(okay, we actually did learn a lot and read almost all the informational signs about Napoleon’s assault) we went down the stairs (a recent addition I think) and descended into the moat...or what remained of the moat, which was just an empty canal which is now used as space for basketball courts and other odd items.We ran into a tour group and were jealous of the information they were being given (it was in German, a language which none of us even pretend to speak) so we decided to give our own tour.
This is a typical Napoleonic playground, C informed me.
These are the ancient metal sculptures of the cavemen, I told Claire.
Mom did not believe us, despite our credentials.
We decided to explore the remnants of the Crusader city in and under Akko. (Did I forget to mention the Crusaders? Well, they were in Akko too.) We received audio guides with the price of admission. They were full of information...
too much information.
Almost every section began with, “Built upon Hellenistic foundations...(in a terrible British accent)” and ended with “and was covered in earth until present day.” Soon we grew tired of our British companion and left the Crusaders for more intriguing locations, such as the shop of a thousand sparkles...
and adventures, such as trying pomegranate juice from a street vendor...
(Mom and C fared well in that experience...I did not...probably because I tried to chug my juice at the end...it’s pretty intense)
After we visited a Turkish Bath (it was all for show, no services offered) and Spice Man Spiff, we returned to our hotel, donned our beach apparel, and set off for the sands. It was my first time swimming in the Mediterranean Sea...or any sea for that matter. Delicious. Amazing. I believe my Spanglish word “refrescoeing” describes it best. We lazed about on the beach and surfed the waves for quite awhile before soaping up and dressing in more appropriate clothes for our second dining experience in Akko. This time we ate at Uri Buri, where reservations were needed and the food was to die for. It was a very seafoody place and I loved it...and I don’t even LIKE seafood!
On that astounding piece of prose I will end this part of chapter 5. It’s 10 o’clock (that’s when the monsters come out according to Bill Cosby) and I’m tired. Bedtime for Nardpants indeed. My warnings of obscenities never came to fruition...at least not in Part 1 of Chapter 5. The same warnings apply for Part 2...or to Chapter 6: And It’s As Yet Unnamed Ummmmm...Name. Until tomorrow, Dear Reader.
