Get Your Graffiti Hands Out

In Tel-Aviv, the Florentine area is only place that one can legally graffiti the streets and alleyways without any repercussions. Just like any piece(s) of street art some of it is good and some of it is bad. From my five weeks there I spent a solid amount of time walking around the area every so often looking to throw together my favorite pieces. After a few trips out I really started to see peoples personality and goals in producing each piece of street art... Then I thought about it and that makes sense with all sorts of categories of art not just the street stuff. The main difference with these artists is their canvas are a concrete wall just around the corner from a falafel shop or the side of rundown brick building.

Looking back on it now I'm definitely disappointed in myself for not giving it a shot in making a piece of artwork. One doesn't need to be a graffiti master to mark their spot and I'm guessing mine would have landed on the not so good end of the spectrum but who really cares. Come to think of it some of my favorite pieces were the more simplistic ones. A quote that I had never heard that put a smile on my face or a little caricature that had a fantastic face are a few examples.

One assumption I turned into a near fact after my five weeks of living in the Florentine area is the graffiti definitely embodied the people that live and visit there. It's different, it's quirky and it works. There are all varieties of people in Florentine just like the street art. These people have turned Florentine into the happening area for young adults and added another dimension of night life into a lively city to begin with.

Here is a massive photo dump of street art that are some of my favorites. It was hard to pick even this many since the variety is MASSIVE. Also there some photos of the quirky and different people that make Florentine churn.. most importantly they're my good friends :)

 The kitty even posed for this one 

Doppelganger Is An Understatement

The other day I scanned the hostel common area here in Tel-Aviv and came across a familiar face. It was the legend John Lennon. Surely this couldn't be true but I swore it was. I did a quadruple take swaying my head back and forth questioning my eyes and if I was in the right reality... This 20 something-year-old young adult looked exactly like Mr. Lennons doppelganger. While a doppelganger does refer to a living look-a-like of a fellow human lets just pretend the unfortunate shooting in New York on December 8th, 1980 didn't happen. Daniel, the young doppelganger, literally blew my mind with how much he looked liked him. His facial features, hair, clothing style (generally speaking) and most importantly his glasses were right on "Q" with The Beatles lead song writer himself. This conglomeration was just too much for me so I had to introduce myself and ask him about it. 

It wasn't until the next day I got a chance to say anything. At this time it was only noon and I politely asked him..
Me : "Has anyone told you, you look like John Lennon from the Beatles?"
Daniel(aka John Lennon) : "Yeah this is the 3rd time I have heard it today."
Me : "Well that pretty much sums it up that you hear it a lot."

Now this hostel in Tel-Aviv, where I'm currently volunteering at, has a very social environment and holds upward of 70 people so getting multiple comments on the look-a-like-ness isn't a huge surprise but 3 people before noon is crazy! Even further proves how much they're twins. 

Aside form Daniels identical looks to John he was an amazing listener and had a great sense of people around him. I thoroughly enjoyed my time hanging with him whether it was a simple conversation or a night out for drinks. One other fun fact about Daniel is he currently lives in the New York City on the EXACT street John Lennon lived on as well. That's just crazy weird. 

Here are some photos below to prove that the second coming of John Lennon really did stay at Florentine Backpackers Hostel!

This photo is actually a photo of a photo but the original was done on a traditional polaroid camera and it turned out amazing! 

Basic snap and shoot camera photo of Daniel and myself 

The Power of People

Located in the heart of the Old City of Jerusalem lies the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, also known as Church of Resurrection to some. While it does not quite twinkle from the outside like some of the churches, cathedrals or holy sites connected to Christians across the world it's on the inside what counts. Pilgrims and Christians of most denominations believe this to be holiest site in the world with the exact location where Jesus was crucified and his empty tomb lying to left of the main entrance for visitors. While the Church is rich in history it was the power of the people on the inside that tugged on my emotional strings to make this an unforgettable experience. 

Once I walked through the 20 'arching doors my friend Johan from Denmark and I noticed numerous people with tears welling up in their eyes. We both shrugged our shoulders questioning and slowly moved on. Things were moving at such an incredible rate it was hard to keep up, scurrying all around. People dressed in all sorts of attire from traditional western priest outfits to fully clothed middle-eastern women. It was hard for me to rap my head around all the cultures, religions and opinions in one place. I walked on and found a little free space to take a seat and things started to come together after that.

Directly inside the main entrance I had walked directly past one of the many sites in the church. This one in particular was the Stone of Unification. The supposed place where Jesus was appointed before burial. This directly answered Johan's and my question why everyone was crying. For these Christians to be able to pray over such a sacred stone and come out so genuinely moved made me want to slip inside their heads to feel that emotion. But I could not literally do that. So as respectfully as I could I watched the people for ten minutes near that stone and it gave me a new slice of what can come of religion. The sheer passion these humans had for making this organised chaos work was remarkable. Again remembering that there are people from every nook and cranny on earth they allowed one another the time of day to do what they wanted at that Unification Memorial. Unity of humans at it's finest.

To me this is not a normal tourist attraction. Maybe it was just the day I went or forced feelings from the tears but I walked away that evening with a real sense of joy and happiness. While I was on the inside I tried to limit my pictures as much as possible but I did get some from the outside. Dare I say this Church is not easiest on the eyes but its the supposed history on the inside that counts. 

View from the outside of the Church of Holy Sepulchre (1) 

Church of Holy Sepulchre (2)

A Christian pilgrim from Ethiopia who wanted to take a photo with me. I asked the same of him shortly afterwards 

Panorama view of the Old City of Jerusalem with many of the holy structures in sight.  

Day of Atonement

Yom Kippur, also know as, Day of Atonement is the holist day in Judaism. On October 11th, Yom Kippur hit during my time in Tel-Aviv, Israel. Was it nothing short of amazing. Traditionally the 25 hour holiday is meant to be spent fasting and cycling through different synagogue services but Tel-Aviv tells a different story with it's forward thinking atmosphere and culture. The city, with towering sky scrappers and eclectic suburbs, COMPLETELY shuts down. Amir, a worker at the hostel I stayed at in Tel-Aviv and practicing Jew, filled me on what to expect prior to the coming holiday. En-off by Started Using the words post-apocalyptic to Describe the scene on the streets from the exact moment it starts at sunset of the 11th. Until nightfall of the next day this obscure look stands true with little to no cars driving around (if there were any cars they were mostly Policeman).

Amir continued on about the holiday saying a fairly new tradition is families regardless of religion in Tel-Aviv will take to streets with their bikes, scooters and roller blades and roam freely. If you owned a bike in Tel-Aviv on the 12th of last week you were riding it somewhere in the streets without a care in the world. I unfortunately did not plan ahead in time so there was no bike riding for me but I still felt the joyous nature behind an empty city to walk wherever and whenever I wanted.

As I walked around that beautiful sunny day I did pass through some strictly Jewish quarters that stuck to tradition. One of house in particular held a clergy of old men in Yom Kippur attire. The attire that is suppose to be worn, by men and women, is white clothing from head to toe all of which they wore. The amount of money I would give to be a fly on the wall in that room on that special day is far too much. I could hear their brash hebrew words leave their mouths through a open window. Even without knowing any hebrew at all that experience would be special to be apart of. 

Amir gave a layman's terms analogy that Yom Kippur is similar to how some Christians still celebrate Christmas. From an initial phycological standpoint I get it. It was nearly impossible to find someone in Tel-Aviv that day without a smile on their face. I think back to Christmas at my parents house and completely see that same thing but within the confines of our family house. Everyone is all smiles! He used that thinking just to give people, like myself, a idea of ​​its importance but I think the Jewish community take it up a few levels in regards to keeping unity within the family or loved ones. For criminy sakes all public transportation in Israel is shut down for the 25 hour period, including the International Airport (Ben Gurion)! No flights in, no flights out. 

I feel blessed to have been in Israel for such an important time for the people, even if I did not know of the holiday until two weeks prior. As always I have some photos for proof. Check out the carless streets and smiling faces. 

Care in t A the world about Their bikes or bodies in the in being in the road t 

He caught me taking a picture of him. Biker photo-bomb

My good travel buddy Leo 

Families walking up and down a major street in Tel-Aviv

A lil praying-mantis came out to celebrate Yom Kippur

A group of volunteers showing that not only one person can create peace and unity but it takes a collective gathering

 

Drone photo from above : Peace!

Flocktoberfest

Just like any good festival or worldly historic tradition on planet earth comes a cost with the rise tourism hitting it. People flock from all over the world to hit these events to see how the countries respective culture has engrained itself into it. My recent experience came in Munich, Germany where Octoberfest is held in the latter weeks of September and a few days in October. Most people know the drill but essentially it's a giant carnival / fair with beer tents spread throughout the interior. Inside these tents are tables upon tables of beer drinking Germans and tourists prost'n (cheers) their steins from morning till night exchanging stories with each other and shouting old Bavarian drinking tunes. Whats not to like about that? Not a whole lot is the correct answer.

While I wish I could give a strong opinion one way or another on the conglomeration people that hit Octoberfest I sit right on top of the wall like humpty dumpty and do not plan to fall off. On one hand it's a fantastic meeting point to see other travellers and meet up with old travel friends from past trips (Both of which I did and a few of my old travel friends I saw there I honestly thought I might never see again). On the other hand some of the time I selfishly wish I could have experienced it in its most organic form when it started over 200 years ago. Me, a tent full of Bavarian Germans and lots of beer.  That's just not possible anymore. With traveling becoming less of a strictly luxury pastime people from all stretches of the earth are hopping on board and hitting wonderful festivals just like myself.

To get a little more specific with who of my travel friends I got the opportunity to see was my good friend Liam from England. You know sometimes you just click with people from the get go? Well Liam is one of those people for me. We met each other in Bangkok, Thailand about 4 years ago when I had just started my extended journey through Southeast Asia and he had just started a very lengthy around-the-world adventure. Right when I got into Bangkok I got sick from some sort of street and things were definitely up in the air if I should continue on with my trip. With Liam be a little older than me he was the level head I needed to not necessarily talk me through the situation but to just listen and help push past the initial pain. To this day I can't thank him enough. We ended up traveling through northern Thailand together and met up in Vietnam after we split in different directions for a few months. 

Just sitting in that tent with Liam a week back was an incredible feeling and how life can truly come full circle. Sure the beers were good, paired with nice basketball sized pretzel but catching up with him was something I definitely didn't expect going to Munich as I didn't find out he was there until my second day. We chatted over Facebook, set up a meeting point and it was off from there. 

Life really is about the people not the places....

Liam, Nicole and Whitey (from right to left) all of us enjoying our beers and pretzels

Late night in one of the beer tents when they get PACKED!!!

In the fair grounds with some delicious barrels of beer 

Whitey and I

Some more of my travel friends who I care about dearly. I met them in Morocco a few months back and decided to make the trip to Munich just a few weeks before Octoberfest with hanging out with them as my #1 goal. They showed the true authentic ways of Octoberfest as all three are born and raised in Germany.

So Close to Home I Can Taste It

Lagos, Portugal is a special place. Surfing, kayaking, scuba diving, numerous beaches along the water divided by geological structures shooting high into the sky. While there are other places around the world that such things are in one spot, Lagos does it on the perfect scale. Not too big of a beach town and not too small. Just enough fine dining for the people on proper holiday to get their fix and just enough dive bars for backpackers to get their cheap meals and beer. My experience in Lagos all started(and pretty much finished) with the hostel.

Old Town Lagos. A quaint spot in the center of old town (wouldn't have thunk that one huh?..). While the rooms in the hostel felt like a sauna sleeping at night it was all overshadowed by the tight knit quarters of the common area that pushed for social interaction to an extreme. Not to mention one of the loveliest couples I've had the opportunity of meeting in my entire life. The afternoon crew at the front desk went by the names of Jason and Amy who were the cogs to this well oiled social setting. No matter the day, what they did the night before, how much sleep they got, they stepped into that hostel with the same wonderful attitude. From my point of view it was almost as if they were on a mission to make sure no one stepped foot onto any bus, train or car out of Lagos without having a good time. Amy cooked delicious homemade meals nightly and Jason scrambled around setting up activities for all the guests the following day. They even joined guests out on their nightly adventures depending on the day of the week.

All those personal amenities casted a smoke-an-mirrors effect as if I were with my real family and friends back at home in Seattle. But it was simply the warm hearts that were brought out from the city, its atmosphere and of course Jason and Amy.

As always I share some photos from my time at each respective city, which I will still do, but I never got a chance to get one with Jason or Amy. Guess I'll have to go back, darn!

Scuba Graffiti! 

One of the many beaches just outside of Old Town 

The massive rock structures dividing the beaches

Scuba Diving Boat Crew 

Back To Continental Europe

After almost a month away from Europe I landed safely in Lisbon, Portugal just a few days ago. I took my second visit to the distinctly diverse Morocco. My first visit of about 6 days left me feening for more and more is what I got. I ventured through 5 or so cities at a pace the Moroccans would definitely approve of. Whether it's the heat or the exorbitant amount of hash things just seem to run a little differently and slowly in all corners of the country. I'm on board with that. The hash and slow-paced lifestyle that is, not necessarily the heat. Even so the heat was something that was easily adaptable once there.

The change of scenery in regards to religion was an expected culture swing that I desperately needed. The mosques and constant calls to prayer were a good change of pace from the Cathedrals in every village, town and city across Spain. Even when I knew the calls to prayer were coming it was a sound that hit my ears with beauty. In the Islamic religion the call to prayer is meant to bring the believers and the non-believers together in thought(s) of their beliefs. While I can't say I know the beliefs to a "T", I got the general idea where I understand and have the mindfulness of what is going on around me and how important these 5 calls a day are.

Everything that embodies the religion, especially in the working to lower class citizens, made for a humbling and eyeopening experience. This could be things like the day-to-day clothing or diet of the people. Examples like the women can show little skin (traditionally) or alcohol is essentially forbidden to drink. Whatever it might be all these things added up to help me gain insight into a countries lifestyle completely different from mine.

After a second trip to Morocco I left with a slightly similar feeling as the first time, wanting to see just a little bit more. I know there will be a day where I step inside the boarders of that Northern African Country at least once more. For now, I hope you enjoy a few pictures that I took along the way.

Chefchaouen, The Blue City

Typical Moroccan Sandwich after a visit at the Casablanca Mosque

The base for many Moroccan dishes, THE TAJINE 

Legzira Beach, Morocco

Legzira Beach, Morocco

Essaouira, Morocco fish market 

Free ride???

"Is your refrigerator running?" Yes... "Well you better go catch it!"

About 13 months ago in the town of Galdako, Spain Alvaro Saiz took an online project to help prevent wasted food in Germany and brought it to his hometown. His idea though had nothing to do with online work and everything to do with in person exchanges. His idea was called "Solidarity Community Refrigerators". In Galdako anyone and everyone could put extra food that was eventually going to go to waste for the hungry. This included super markets and restaurants. No wasted produce from the markets and any extra tapas each evening from the restaurants went to the fridge. There was some speculation among the people in Galdako in regards to hygiene but the town hall eventually approved a 5,000 Euro budget to have the refrigerator put in place. A crew of volunteers were made to help clean it and a set of rules for the donators and takers were added to sway the naysayers.

Once the fridge was put in the city center and ready to go Saizs idea took off and became extremely popular. Over the first seven weeks Saiz estimated the fridge saved about 600 lbs of food (http://mentalfloss.com/article/67680/spains-solidarity-fridge-gives-new-life-leftovers).
Right around this time Murcia, a much larger town in Spain 400 miles away, took action and put one in their town as well.

I heard about this idea from a girl I had met in Bilbao which is a much larger city next to Galdako. She filled me in all about it and I thought it was such a good recycling format for completely edible food. One morning she invited me to join her on her day trip to Galdako from Bilbao to add something to the fridge. Unfortunately I had a few too many cervezas the night before and could barely move from one seat cushion to the other on the love seat in the hostel common area. I had to toss that idea out the window as the only thing that would end up in the fridge from me that day would be my vomit. Grossly enough I know that's not allowed so I stayed there. It did put my mind at ease knowing there was one in Murcia where I was eventually going so I could check that one out or so I thought. 

This brings me to my time in Murcia where I just left yesterday and went on a wild goose chase trying to find that refrigerator. For a good portion of two days I went from searching the internet to asking tour guides, my hostel host and the tourist information center to find it but I had no such luck. One of the very helpful ladies at the city center tourism office of Murcia sent me to what she thought was the solidarity community refrigerator but it ended up being a food bank to feed the hungry. Before I could even ask where the fridge was a representative of the food bank offered me a free meal through broken English that I could barely understand. That offer there made me feel so at home in that building because I definitely felt like a fish out of water being the ONLY backpacker/tourist. After I politely declined the meal I tried to tell her in my broken Spanish that I wanted to donate food not eat it. It took a gentleman close by to bridge the communication barrier between the volunteer of the food bank and myself. With his and her help I thought I was on to something. 

They hopped on the computer behind the desk and started a search. A few minutes passed and they came back with a printed map and a pin dropped on the cross streets of where the fridge was suppose to be. I couldn't thank them enough. I'm sure the volunteer had other things going on at the time but stopped to see if she could be of service and the gentleman who helped was just there for a meal not expecting to be a translator. 

After what seemed like forever searching for that pin on the map I was in a suburb where I found the location. This location turned out to be a Social Services Organization that was closed for the day. I had come to a dead end in my search.  While I loved hearing about this fantastic way to prevent wasted food from my friend in Bilbao and would have loved to see it "in action" the people and conversations I had along the way in Murcia were something very special to me. I still don't know if there is one in Murcia or not but I do hope cities in the country continue to replicate the idea because things like this in the United States would never pass in a town hall. 

Here are a few pictures of Murcia below

Cathedral Church of Saint Mary

Inside the clock tower as seen above to the left hand side 

The key to get inside the room at the top of the tower 

This meal was way too fancy for me but hey, you gotta treat yourself sometimes. I honestly can't remember the fried thing but on the spoon is Salmorejo and a raw quail egg. Salmorejo is a traditional cold soup made from garlic and tomatoes. 

Just being a goofball

Running For Your Lives

The first of four loud bangs fires off letting the runners know the corral was open then shortly after the second bang fires off letting the runners know the six bulls had exited and were making their way. The cobble stone streets literally started to shake and the dare-devils I was surrounded by look back at death-mans-corner to see if the bulls had made the turn. It's frowned upon to the beat the bulls to the arena where the 875 meter run ends as spectators waiting will hit you with vicious vocal heckles and boo's. So starting too far ahead does you no good and essentially guarantees anyone in the race no complete safety as you have to let them pass at some point. As the cobble stone shakes increased I finally saw the beasts come the around the corner. It was happening. 

I along with everyone else went from looks of uncertainty to a sprint in no time. The mad dash was under way. The combination of head turning could make one dizzy as you had to consciously keep looking forward so you don't trip over someone or their feet and behind so you don't get gorged in the backside or pushed into the side of an apartment building. It was all such a blur I don't remember the exact moment the bulls passed me but they did. Shortly after a group of six steers that follow the bulls passed me which brought me to the final stretch where I could see the entrance to the arena where my premature celebration started. I thought I was home free when I saw the sun gleaming into the open air arena but boy was I wrong. After the six bulls and six steers run on through they release three more steers just make sure all 12 keep course. As if the streets weren't narrow enough hundreds of us funneled into the ring through the main entrance(see last picture below). At this point I'm just getting shoved in my back finally realizing that the last three steers are close behind. As its every man for himself (and a few women) I brutally shoved the guy in front of me to get to some open ground in the arena to break off from the massive crowd squeezing in. I will never know exactly how close the last three steers were to me but it was close enough to push my adrenaline to an incredible point only to come down once I was guaranteed safety from all four legged creatures... for the time being...

I caught my breath and looked around a packed house of just under 20,000 people cheering the ones who made it inside the arena. These 20,000 were there for entertainment and entertainment is what they got. Once the run is finished everyone turns into amateur matadors as the bulls are released from their corral one by one into the inner circle. Again its a free for all but the Spaniards and tourists alike can decide how much they want to test the bulls so you can attempt to play it safe(r). I for one wasn't exactly playing "chicken" with the bulls as I stayed closer to the walls for a good portion. For a few bits I did however hop into the dead center to get the feel and to say I did it. At one point I did get close enough to slap a bulls ass as it was in the midst of hurdling itself at a Spaniard close by. 

What went on in the arena after the race was something I definitely didn't expect. With plenty of people losing their battle of "chicken" to the bulls it was gruesome to say the least. The man who got it the worst from my point of view was a daring lad who couldn't quite dodge the horn as it slipped under his shirt on his backside then up through the top by his neck. At this point the bull the could have his way. He was tossed around like a stuffed toy during a puppies first play session. It took at least a dozen people to get him free after a serious battering.  

Once all six bulls had a session with the runners inside the ring it put a cap on the actual running of the bulls for the day. The rest of the morning and afternoon was fiesta time with loads of sangria and cervezas. What's not to love about that? 

The whole experience from the opening ceremonies to the moment I left Pamplona was a mixture of emotions ranging from new heights of adrenaline to shire happiness through the streets not just from me but anyone there to celebrate Saint Fermin. Below are a few pictures from the run, hope you enjoy! 

All packed together before the start of the run

I'm safe Mom! 

Leaving the arena through the tunnel as described above

Well played on the proposal Mate. 20,000 people watching with all the attention on her

The tunnel that shouldn't be taken lightly (Picture stolen from Associated Press)