Little Bullet, Big Problem

Never ever in my travels, EVER,  have I ever encountered a TSA airport screening like the one in Las Vegas last week. And since it involved live ammunition, I hope never to do so again.

We were on the blasted 1 AM flight back to the East Coast. Note to self: never again. We arrived home feeling like death warmed over and then reheated again. I digress. Before we actually arrived home, we of course had to go through all the proper screenings at various airports and whatnot. In Vegas, we pick a line and begin to trudge through it. Our carry-on suitcases come through just fine, and we peer expectantly down the line for our backpacks. Nothing. In fact, nothing much at all is happening in our line, and there is a bunch of people just standing around. The screeners are very intently looking at their screen, the passengers waiting to go through the machine are intently looking at the screeners, and we are very intently looking for our luggage. At last, one of them arrives with Adam's bag in tow, and politely asks "Is this yours?" Indeed it is. He informs us that it will be over yonder and that we need to be there as well. Wonderful.

We put ourselves back together and head over to the nice TSA man who looks ready to do business. Opening the bag, he roots around a little and pulls out.........a rock. Adam had grabbed a rock from the Canyon. Whew, ok! Let's move on now.

Not so fast. The nice TSA man roots around a little more and pulls out the grand prize-None other than an unspent 9mm bullet. Ummm.....what does one say in such a situation? TSA man looks down the end of his nose at us and sternly, but still politely, wonders  aloud, "And is there a reason you are carrying a live bullet with you tonight?" Well, no actually, there is no reason at all that will suffice in this situation. And since we know we are not terrorists or have any motives other than just getting home, we both just start grinning. The situation is just so ludicrous, we couldn't help ourselves. Nice TSA man does not think anything is remotely funny and marches away with the bullet and the bag, telling us to have a seat. Good thing we are way early for this flight-mystery bullets usually mean a nice little delay.

We sit down and of course my first question to my newly betrothed is "oh dearest one, why do you have a bullet in your bag"? Simple explanation really. He has a few guns, he is a hunter, we just moved, he shoved a bunch of stuff in a bookbag (side note about my husband's packing/moving style-it's really quite heinous and involves lots of large black lawn and leaf bags) and somehow this little bullet never made it out-which says alot for TSA at Reagan airport in DC where the mystery bullet went undetected. Anyway, we sit there a bit and ponder our future. I do this rather dramatically as I consider a life on the no-fly list, a stint behind bars, or at the very minimum, a late arrival home. Adam doesn't seem to be concerned in the least.

As it turns out, apparently bullets are a not-so-rare occurrence. The lady that resolved our issue told us so matter-of-factly, and that there had been another one just night before. She also indicated very strongly that we should leave the bullet with her and we were happy to oblige. Taking his phone number, she told us that TSA may come calling.

So that is the story of the bullet. One for our children, one for this blog, and one that prior to a honeymoon with my husband, I never thought I would tell. Anybody care to share any similar airport security moments?

On How the Honeymoon and/or the Marriage almost got cut short

In the last few posts, I have mentioned how frugal I am and how I really like to find a deal and save a buck. Read: cheap. Anyway, this trait of mine nearly landed us in a fine mess  just yesterday traveling Arizona Highway 180 from the Grand Canyon to Flagstaff. In short, we needed gas. We left at 4:45 AM to make it to the Canyon for sunrise, well before the "cheaper" gas station closest to us was open. The next gas station a block away was selling gas at FIFTY WHOLE CENTS MORE!!!  Of course. We only got $20 worth and went on our merry way.  After a few hours enjoying the views of this world wonder, we headed out of the park. More on the Canyon later, let's just get to how the happiness nearly ended here. The conversation went a little something like this:

Him: We need gas, should we get it here?
Me: No, it's way too expensive. Oh, and let's take this shortcut instead of what the GPS is telling us.

Seven miles later down the shortcut road which so far, is all clouds, sky, and road. Absolutely nothing else.

Him: What if there isn't any place to get gas on this road?
Me: Um......what if there isn't? (A quick check with GPS had confirmed that there was indeed nothing between us and our destination, nearly 50 miles away. Oh dear. )

Five minutes later:
 Him: The gas light just went on.
Me:
(No response from me here. Just mortified silence. Feverish prayers begin).

Twenty minutes later:
Him: The needle is almost  below "E."  Check on GPS and see where the closest gas station is!!
Me: I already did. It's back on the other road we just came from! 
Him:
(No response from him here. Just tense silence.)

About 30 miles to go. 

And so this is how our ride went. Tense silence marked by frequent glances at the GPS to assess our progress. During this time I avoided looking at and speaking with my beloved husband, preferring instead to imagine the worst while looking out the window at....nothing. Not even a house around. In fact, we were in the Coconino National Forest. No gas stations there. Siiiigh.  Running out of gas would definitely ruin our day, cut into the budget, and certainly put a damper on our fledgling marriage. Prayers heavenward were accelerated, even invoking the Jesus turning water into wine story. Only we really just needed waning fuel to turn into.......more fuel. But you get the idea.


Him: The needle is below"E" now.
Me:
(Pretending not to hear. Accelerated efforts at prayer).

Twenty miles to go, and I feel as if there may be a light at the end of the tunnel. Twenty miles from civilization isn't all that far if we run out, right? At ten miles, I started to breathe, but only a little. Five miles found me wanting to sing the Hallelujah Chorus. The tension in the jeep though, prevented me from doing so.  At three miles, I knew we had made it. And the sight of the Sunoco just ahead? Priceless. I could have kissed the man working there.

Him: I don't know how we made it this far.
Me: I do. ;)

Vegas, Here We Come! (oh and Grand Canyon---comin' for you too....)

Our honeymoon is now three days away and we are both pretty darn excited. First time to Vegas and Grand Canyon for both of us, and actually, first extended trip together, period. We went to Chicago for a few fabulous days last summer, but we were in a giant herd of friends and annoying people. This time it's just the two of us. Insert cute song here.  After months of research and price-checking, we decided on dates (June 29-July 6), hotel (Bally's on the Strip), vehicle (top-down Jeep) and another hotel for when we get to Arizona and the Canyon (The Lodge on Rt. 66). Lots of decisions.

After two days in Vegas, we will ride with the open road out to Williams, Arizona and this will be our spot for the next few days while we explore the Canyon, Sedona, and Flagstaff. I can't think of many things more nostalgic then spending the 4th of July in a small town in the southwest,  off Rt. 66, no less. Am I more excited about this, or the giant barbecue that will be held while we are there? That, my friends, is a tough one. You all know how I long for and rhapsodize over food. See my post about Austin, Texas if there is any confusion. And speaking of food! Have you guys ever utilized Restaurant.com for some serious discounts? It's either the world's biggest scam and my bank account is being depleted even as I write this, or the best-kept secret. Right now, if you visit the website and use the promo code "summer," you can order a $25 gift certificate to certain Vegas restaurants and pay $2. My eyes were as big as saucers when I found this deal. Clearly, I let all that excitement get to my head because I promptly ordered $100 worth of coupons (paid $8) and then realized you can only use one per visit in a month. So now I have just gone and wasted $6 which sort of defeats the entire purpose of saving money.  Perhaps I should learn to temper my frugality with some fine print.  Aah well, maybe I can find some other kindred soul on the streets of Vegas and give it to them.

Then off to Williams in our rented Jeep. This is the husband's one "must-have" of the entire trip and so top-down Jeep ride we shall enjoy! I sort of orchestrated everything else on the honeymoon and so the man needs to have one thing he picked out. And by "sort of" I mean that essentially, all plans have been made by me. He is fine with that and well, let's face it, I am too.

I think we will have plenty to occupy our time this week and even more importantly, I think it's gonna be great. Just me and him, exploring a little Southwest together.

Taking any and all suggestions for things to definitely do, and things to definitely avoid. We are Virgin Vegasers. I could go some many places with the previous sentence, but I will keep this all G-rated for ya. Hey!- as a newly married woman, I've got jokes.

To Guide or Not to Guide?

As promised, I am going to elaborate a bit more on this trip to Turkey (and show some pictures). Specifically, the merits of having a guidebook or wingin' it on some vague information and a prayer. The was a first time event for me-traveling without a Lonely Planet of my very own that I keep by my side as if it was my last dollar, use as a pillow, and lovingly caress before I go to sleep each night.  You think I'm joking. So venturing to the city that marks a division between East and West sans Lonely Planet was one small step for my fellow travelers, one giant leap for me.

During the weeks leading up to the trip, I had plenty of time to head over to Amazon, find my book, click and buy. Aahhh, that shiny, glossy, Blue cover, just begging to be bought. Yet each time I looked, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Perhaps it was my inner traveler begging me to do it just once, just ONCE go wild and free! Live dangerously and don't figure out in advance how to get from the flat to the metro! Don't find out how to say thanks! Find the bus station by following the crowd! However, I suspect it was actually my inner cheapskate preventing me from purchasing LP's guide to Istanbul. Those of you who know me and/or have traveled with me, know I am frugal by nature-I travel on a dime and only splurge on the big things. I have been known to get out of a cab because he charged us a dollar (one little dollar!) more than I thought was fair. And with a wedding in the very immediate future and the myriad of expenses that go along with it, I decided that this one time, I would forego the Blue.

My resolve lasted until just off the runway after an Amsterdam layover.  The lady in the row ahead of mine had what I coveted. I could practically read along with her if I angled my neck just right. I was sitting beside the birthday boy and we both realized how little we knew about where we were going. I started to feel panicky, and completely uneducated about this foreign place. What if I never made it to the must-sees? What if I missed the best place to find a kabob? What if I never learned a single thing to educate my students? Seizing the moment when she laid the book on the seat beside hers, I pounced. "Excuse me, but do you mind if I look at your book for a few minutes?" Looking somewhat nonplussed and startled, she handed it to me. High on life! I felt how an addict must feel when they finally get a fix. I crammed all the pertinent info into my weary brain and sat back, somewhat relieved.

Now, fast forward to our first morning there and we are all making our plans to head out for the day. I am somewhat confident because two other people have Blue, so I know our day's journey will at least be well-informed. But I don't have it, so I feel like I am missing a limb. Or my eyesight. Again, I am not kidding. Even as I write this, I realize how crazy I must sound. But when I travel, my M.O is to have the logistics down (how to find transport, rough costs of food, fees,  ideas for hostels, etc), and then the plan will fall into place. I usually only know for certain where I am staying the first night and then the rest just happens.  As we head out, I realize I cannot be in control of anything, because I don't actually know anything. As we proceed through that first day and encounter innumerable mishaps, confusing directions, and the loss of various people at different points, the awakening occurs. I am FREE! I have no book, therefore I have no authority, I have no pre-obtained information. By the third day, when we all proceed en masse to the wrong ferry dock, only to find that not only were we at the wrong dock, but at the right dock, our ship had already gone and sailed down the Bosphorus without us. I stood back, amused, and without a slight care in the world. I had no book, I was not in charge, I was not responsible for incidents like this one. Pretty cool huh?

Will I be adopting this as my mode of travel from now on? Nah, probably not.  I am on to planning the honeymoon and I have not one, but two guidebooks.  Disclaimer: both were given to me.  Next stops: Vegas and Grand Canyon! But it was pretty nice to not have the Blue, I will admit.   After all, isn't the adventure in the journey, not the destination? (I know, I know, some other wise person authored that quote, but it fit pretty nicely here to wrap up this post).

What do you fellow travelers think? How do you like to travel-guide or no guide?

Indecent Proposal

 I'm back from marriage and all that good stuff ;)

You know it's going to be an eventful trip when a random Turkish man offers 125 camels, 7,000 sheep, and his jacket in exchange for one of your fellow female travelers. Yes, this actually happened. We were sitting in Sultanahmet Square, relaxing, enjoying the view of the Blue Mosque, when Terra apparently struck Turk's fancy. The man was persistent, I'll give him that. At first it was just the 125 camels he offered-a proposal at which we scoffed. (Surely she's worth at least twice that amount. ha!)  When Turk realized we were not down with the 125 camels, he threw in the sheep.  I think he sensed his prize slipping away. Throwing in his jacket for last desperate measure, I assume he truly believed that we would actually be persuaded  to give up poor Terra in return for a Noah's ark of smelly livestock animals and one nondescript men's jacket.  Although........such an exchange wouldhave  likely made us extremely wealthy by Turkish standards. Hmmmm. Camels and sheep don't appeal to me though. Now, if he had offered  a few Turkish rugs and a lifetime supply of Turkish baklava, I might be writing a different Turkish story. Have you ever in your life had chocolate baklava??
A. Maz. Ing.  A scene was almost created over the sheer deliciousness of this dessert.

Oh fine. I wouldn't really have let my friend go for mere household goods and a sweet treat. But seriously, eat some chocolate baklava while reclining on a sumptuous rug. You too might be tempted.

(just kidding Terra!)

Here is the chocolate baklava in all of its glory. Below that is a photo of me acting the part of tourist in the Square, behind is the Blue Mosque.

Timeout!

I know, I know, I have been gratuitously negligent (I really just wanted to use the word "gratuitious" right then and there) on updating everyone on my latest adventure. I went on a rampage over the airport debaucle, and now some of you probably think I had a terrible time in Turkey and am just covering it up with tales of woe. That is so not true. But you see, I am getting married next weekend and life is just a wee bit hectic at the moment. I have a to-do list several yards long and unfortunately, none of the items on it has anything to do with blogging,  or for that matter, anything fun at all.   So, I must take a brief timeout while I get this whole marriage thing together. Here are a few snippets of trip recap and two pictures to assure you that not only did I actually go, but that I had a grand 'ole time.

1. I did not purchase my wedding ring. Low point of the trip. But those darn Turks were having none of my amazing bargaining skills. One of them practically spit at the price I offered.
2. I did indeed find the Bosphorus Strait! It's kind of hard to miss while in Istanbul. However, there was no frolicking in it. As Lonely Planet guide puts it, unless one has a death wish, swimming in the Bosphorus is not advised.
3. Speaking of Lonely Planet, I have mixed emotions on traveling sans guidebook. Luckily, other people on the trip did, so it was more of a "baby steps" trip for me. There was one at my fingertips at any moment I so chose, but I did not have one of my own. Part of the trip, I felt as if I was wandering around in a fog, blindly following the lead of others. The other part was strangely exhilarating-I wasn't responsible! I didn't know a thing about anything, so therefore, I could not be responsible for mix-ups, wrong turns, and misinformation-of which all were in abundance on this trip. The logistics of traveling with 10 people is nothing short of a small nightmare. More on this later.
4.  The best day was the last day-took a drive out to the Black Sea. Simply gorgeous.

5. There are feral cats everywhere in Istanbul. I found this little guy in the public square outside of the Spice Bazaar.  He appears to really be enjoying his nap time.
6. I passed my Praxis exam. Nothing to do with Turkey, just super relieved and happy about it.

Must go get married now. More on everything later.

Part 2, Just a Freaking Cluster (Ode to JFK airport).

We got our boarding passes and looked around wildly for where to go. I asked a gentlemen who appeared to be working (leaning against a table) where Terminal 2 was, and he said if we would just wait five minutes while he used the restroom, he would take us there. Confident in my supreme abilities to navigate an airport and not wanting to waste another second, I politely declined his offer and we off we dashed. Into oblivion. You see, the person that designed that airport had to have just drawn a bunch of stick figures and buildings on  random pieces of paper, threw them all in the air, stomped on them, made a magic wish and then, with eyes closed, placed them into his blueprint.

We jumped on train that looked like as if was going somewhere important, such as a departure terminal. No such luck. In reality, we were headed out towards New York City, and I realized this at the last possible moment before it would have been too late. My traveling companion was not of much assistance, as this was her very first international trip, and only her second time flying. I was depending completely on myself and the kindness of strangers. We lunged off the train, and I asked the kindest looking person on the platform how to get to the Terminal 2. She pointed directly behind her, to the other side of the platform and told us to jump on there. Wonderful! It is now about 7:35, less than an hour until depature. We hop on, and wait what seems like an eternity until the train finally chugs into the stop we need. We get out. We see nothing even remotely "departure/lounge/check-in/security" like. Nothing. Perhaps if we head down the elevator. Oh but wait, there is a giant woman and her equally giant cat in a giant cat carrier blocking our way. Seriously??!! A giant cat?

Finally making it down the stairs, we find ourselves in no man's land, aka, a parking garage. This is where I start to feel myself crumble into a million little pieces. Back up the stairs, practically shrieking at yet another employee to find out where in all of God's creation is that blasted Terminal 2? She points to the direction from whence we came. no, No, NO! That was a parking garage! Back we go though, in hopes that a giant terminal will suddenly appear (perhaps to go along with the giant woman and her giant cat).  Of course we end up at the same spot in the same parking garage. Major meltdown is imminent. I am going to lose it right there on the asphalt. It was 7:47 and we were no closer to anything important, except large masses of parked cars. I literally had to give myself a peptalk/shakedown, ordering myself to GET IT TOGETHER!! We could not miss the flight and I was the only one that was going to get us to where needed to be....and I would be of no use to anyone if I was in a sad heap in the parking lot. Lo and behold, that same employee comes strolling out past the garage. Half-hysterical, I call out to her once again....beseeching her to tell me where in this forsaken place was TERMINAL 2??!!! She casually points over her shoulder to a large hangar-like building emblazoned with the words I so desperately was seeking. How was anybody supposed to find that? There were no signs leading or pointing the way, and one must arrive there by traipsing through a parking structure!! WHO DESIGNS THIS STUFF?? We dash for the Promised Land, run through the doors, gasp our way through the security (partly from panic, partly because it was 188 degrees inside, no AC). 7:57. Oh no. They want to take my snowglobe that I so lovingly packed into my checked luggage that became carry-on when all the Delta drama started happening. Blast. But another bright spot-the TSA officer let me keep it but took the box so that it would like she did her job. She then told me to just look really upset and/or angry when I left the screening area. No problem.

Finally, gate 27 is just a few steps away. We arrive, panting and sweating. There is some sort of medical emergency occurring in our waiting area, it is hot as Hades, and come to find out the next day, the would-be Times Square bomber was on the loose somewhere in the airport. Oh, and to cap everything off? Our flight is delayed one hour.

To finish this epic, (oh there is more, but I am over it) we arrive home safe and sound at 2 AM, only 5 hours after our intended arrival. It could have been worse. Enough of the airport drama, on with Turkey!!