WanderingDan’s Weblog

Thanksgiving…a Yankee on foreign shores
November 22, 2012, 4:10 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Today is Thanksgiving. I am missing my friends and family back home(s). Quite contrary to my gypsy-ness, I wonder if this is some shift in my worldview, or if I’m just not grooving on highly regimented ship life. Maybe both. I took the day off, and a few of us are going out for a bike ride in Cypress where we are at port today. In fact, I’m meeting them up on deck A in five minutes, so I’ll have to finish this later. With change in management in the spa, and the boys going home last week, I’m having more difficulty stabilizing than normal…I don’t get it, change is usually so easy for me. Believe it or not I find myself craving some stability…interesting.

Back now. Emily and I are sitting in the hallway outside the cabins eating Toblerone and drinking Jim beam out of the shot glasses I picked up in Egypt. Commiserating…celebrating…a little bit of both. The bike ride today was a little scary, but a lot of fun. Most of the scare came from Yulia almost dieing twice. Apparently she has only ridden a bike a couple before this. Holy shit I was freaked out, especially when she almost nose-dived into a ditch. I was very relieved when she and Gyorgy went back to the open lot for more practice riding. That left Natalia and I to cruise into town. Sweet girl…it is most unfortunate for me that she is otherwise socially spoken for. At one point I realized I needed to exchange money…Euros are the currency here. An exchange shop sign on a street off the main drag drew me in. Two women were sitting down drinking tea…smoking…and chatting away like they were in a cafe. Not much else was in the room: a television, a couple of pictures on the wall. A little perplexed, I ask them “is this the money exchange place?” “Yes, it is” one of the ladies say, and then leaves. More perplexed, I ask the remaining lady sitting down “ummm…why did she leave?” Her response, candid and without expression “we don’t keep the money in here, it’s not safe anymore.”
The other lady comes back in a minute with her purse, and exchanges my dollars for Euros…she didn’t have the right change for a fifty, so I gave her a crisp benny…for this she gave me a better exchange rate.

Back in the hallway now. Six shots of Jim Beam later…I’m finding it hard to concentrate on writing. We try rolling our own cigarettes…Suphani and Vladimir have joined us now…the Thanksgiving party grows. Russian rap is playing in the background…kinda like a Russian Eminem. The cigarettes don’t turn out that great, at lease mine didn’t…whatever, it’s all good. Back to town: Natalia and I met back up with Gyorgy and Yulia…went on a wild goose chase to find them…riding in the rain, stopping to ask several people directions to Cold Stone Creamery. I’m in Cyprus, and going to Cold Stone…again, whatever. Stopped to ask this one dude in a pet shop directions…he was smoking, and on the phone, didn’t smile at all, but eventually hung up and tried to help me. His English was bad…my Greek nonexistant…just moved on. Where was I…shit, this whiskey is hitting me now…better sign off.

Ahhhh…they rolled me a new ciggy…brilliant!


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