Tally-Ho!

One of the best things to happen during our stay is that in mid-January my parents' visas expire. What does this mean? Turkey requires visitors to leave the country every three months in order for their visas to be renewed upon their return. In other words...the Ho's are going on Ho-liday! Okay, sorry, I'll stop with the ho-rrible Ho-jokes.

So what does a Ho family vacation entail? Well, lots of eating for one thing. My father measures time in intervals of snacks and coffee breaks. This will give us ample opportunity to sample all of the deliciousness that Istanbul, London and Rome have to offer. Ho trips also require lots of walking. Endless hours of walking. Some of our friends who have accompanied us on past family trips have discovered this the hard way. We walk everywhere, rain or shine. Some may argue that this is because the best way to discover a city is on foot; I argue that my father is cheap. Only under certain conditions will we take public transport (free being the major factor) and under no circumstances will we ever take a taxi.

We will see if these traditions will continue to be upheld for the next few weeks as we traipse through select cities in Europe and technically Asia (Istanbul is half Europe, half in Asia).

Tally-Ho!

Mutlu Yillar

Translation: Happy New Year (in Turkish)!

For the past few months the family has been scattered across the globe; with me studying in Brisbane, Australia, Hazel in the south of France, Victoria at Ottawa U and, finally, my parents in Turkey. It hasn't always been easy communicating in four different time zones, but somehow we managed to get ourselves organized for a long-awaited family reunion over the Christmas holidays aboard our floating home for the next few weeks, the Three Rivers.

My sisters and I wearing the matching shirts that our parents gave us. Apparently buying your kids matching outfits never gets old.

I must admit, the thought of cramming all five of us together in fairly confined conditions for several weeks had me a bit, shall we say...concerned. We would literally be in each others' faces all day, every day for the duration of our stay. Add that to the fact that its been half a decade since we've all lived under one roof and it sounds like we've got a recipe for disaster (my specialty). Well as it turns out worries were unfounded, and it wasn't long before we settled into some kind of family routine again.

So what it is like living with three sisters and their parents on a 43 foot sailboat? It means that when one person gets up in the morning, everyone has to get up. I used to wake up to the sounds of my father making coffee and talking to our cat Smokey. Now I wake up to the sounds of my father loudly hosing down the boat, directly overhead of my cabin. It means that, instead of having the smallest room in the house, I now have the smallest cabin in the boat (think the length and width of a coffin, except with a height of 6 feet). It means that from 3pm to 4pm, we all have to be very, very quiet, because that is prime napping time for my father. At any given time, you know exactly where every member of your household is, and what they are doing. It also means that the only alone time you will get during the course of a day is when you visit the bathroom, and when you're asleep.

Ho family at Christmas dinner (we're not really orange, its just my sub-par camera)

All joking aside, the town of Kemer has a lot to offer and I can see why my parents love it here. The Mediterranean coastline is breathtaking, especially against the backdrop of the recently snow-capped Taurus mountains. The biggest draw is the marina itself, where there's a great liveaboard (people living off their boats at the marina) community who are spending the winter sailing season in Kemer. Because the average age of the liveaboards is about 60, you can't help but draw comparisons of Kemer marina to that of a retirement community. A very active and structured retirement community, at that. Monday nights mean board games, followed by Tuesday choir practise, Wednesday movie nights, Thursdays line dancing lessons and Friday nights out at the symphony. It may not be the most exhilarating place I've traveled to, but I can't think of another place I'd rather be than here with the Hos.

Another beautiful day at the Kemer Marina

Intense outdoor ping-pong tournament

Freshly squeezed pomegranate juice at the market

Happy Father's Day

This post is a tribute to my dad who is, in some ways, largely responsible for the existence of this blog. There's a reason why me and my sisters all have an insatiable wanderlust, and I think it traces back to the family vacations we used to take together, criss-crossing much of North America and racking up hundreds of thousands of kilometres on our trusty dodge caravan. Every summer my dad planned to take us somewhere different. Sometimes the kids were allowed to have some input (Disneyworld!) and sometimes we were not (Dayton, Ohio).

Getting there was half the adventure, of course, especially when we did the 24 hour drives to Florida. It was those trips that instilled my love of road trips today. Sleeping in the airport because we left the car keys in another suitcase, getting food poisoning in the car and throwing up all over my sister's Berenstein Bears books, locking the keys in the van a thousand kilometres away from home, all of these instances were the beginning of my disaster travels.

We learned a lot of life lessons while we were on the road. Traveling with a family of five is expensive - I now see the logic in my father having us choose whether to stay in a motel or have a nice breakfast (breakfast won and we slept in the parking lot of Walmart). Traveling also builds character. We always had a full itinerary for every city which we covered mostly on foot, often walking for hours each day. Taxis and other forms of transport that required paying were not an option. Sometime we were allowed to bring friends on these trips - friends that wore platform thong sandals - and they learned this the hard way. I also learned about the logistics of traveling. Even at the ages of 5, 7 and 10, respectively, my father had us converting US to CDN currencies to see if activities we wanted to do fit into a pre-determined budget.



Gradually though, as we grew up, got summer jobs, moved to different cities, the trips became less and less frequent. Dad discovered sailing, and soon every possible weekend, weather permitting, he and my mom were either at 'the cottage' where we stored the family sailboat or exploring nearby lakes. But there are only so many bodies of water in southern Ontario and the opportunity for sailing has maximum a 5 month window each year. My father wanted to do more, he wanted something bigger, more of a challenge.

Which brings me to this post. About a month ago, my parents packed up their belongings, purchased a 46 ft ocean-going sailboat and started a journey around the world.

How cool is that?

They started in Turkey, then continued to Cyprus and the last I heard they had arrived safe and sound in sunny Syria. My parents are giving blogging a try, and you can follow their travels at http://3riverscruising.blogspot.com/

Happy fathers day! To my dad, who continues to inspire me everyday :)

Beijing, the original Chinatown

After experiencing delays in takeoff, landing and layovers, I finally arrived in Beijing at 2am. The airport is some distance from the city centre, so I expected the city to be asleep as my taxi drove the 40 minutes to reach my hostel. What I found is true of every Chinatown I've ever visited. The city never sleeps. We passed by fields with kids playing soccer, brightly lit restaurants filled with families still eating and vendors hawking their wares on the streets. It was a stark contrast to Brisbane, where the city shuts down when the sun sets at 5pm, and banks close their doors in the late afternoon.

I opted to stay at Happy Dragon Hostel, not to be confused with the nearby New Dragon Hostel and International Dragon Hostel nearby. The Chinese hospitality industry is not the most creative when it comes to names. The next day I wandered around the Dongcheng district, the historic inner area of the city where my hostel was located. One of the first things I noticed was how the Old World integrated with modern conveniences and new structures. Wide city streets crowded with taxis, cars and buses share the road with a steady stream of bicycles. China was once known as the Kingdom of Bicycles, and today Beijing still has 4 million cyclists.

The fastest way to get around the city is underground. The subway system is clean and efficient, and rediculously cheap. At 2 RMB, the equivalent of 30 cents, anyone can afford to take transport in Beijing. The subways here are infinitely better than the TTC in every way. They're frequent. They're on time. They make sense, meaning there are signs that tell you what stop you're at and which stop you will be heading to next. Also, there are no drunk people yelling at fellow passengers, sleeping or defecating in the subway. All of which I have had the good fortune to witness in Toronto.

Beijing: proof that cleanliness and promptness can coexist in a subway system

The next-to-nothing subway fare also meant that I could visit any of the attractions spread through the city, and some I revisited several times. One of my favorite places is Wangfujing, a buzzing street in the heart of the city that representative of the clash between old and new that I see throughout Beijing. Noodle stalls and spice stores are crowded between giant department stores with huge flashing billboards. Established stores selling jade jewelry and fancy oriental rugs share entryways with tacky souvenir shops. Barely visible in a sea of massive gleaming new storefronts is the entrance to Wangfujing market, an old-fashioned pedestrian alley remnant from the Ming Dynasty era. Although it is crowded and noisy (what Chinatown isn't?) the offerings of countless vendors make this spot a delight for all the senses. Food stalls offer everything from fried crickets to sea horses to candied fruit on skewers. Regular fare like steamed pork buns, sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaves and crispy tofu attract the less adventurous tourists.

Wangfujing alley

Dumplings, buns and pineapple rice

Vendor pulling dragon floss candy

After having our fill of sweets and dumplings, some new travelling companions and I decided to try some tantalizing new dishes. First on the menu was deep fried scorpion. My friend selected a healthy looking specimen 4 inches long with huge pincers. It tasted like popcorn. Then we tried the silkworm. After debating the best way to approach the bulbous cocoon, I went and bit it in the centre. The innards squirted all over my glasses. That's when I decided to call it a day.

Tasty offerings at the night market

Deep fried scorpion

Fried silkworm
Didn't go over so well.