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I actually had several of those moments, but that was the only one I could remember.

Ardennes,
that would be a"Whirling Dervish"
They have an interesting history.
As my face is about to hit the keyboard and I have to get the mattress off my back early,I'll explain in the morning,errr make that afternoon.
Wholley.

snyder wrote:I actually had several of those moments, but that was the only one I could remember.

I sense a flood of 'rite of passage' stories about to be unleashed. Mine is a bit er personal, but it involved a very similar deity uttering a warning in much the same tone and timbre of voice. I didn't listen. Oh the very silly things we do when we are young and stupid

I think you boys have been smoking to much tribal grass if you ask me...

wholley wrote:Ardennes,
that would be a"Whirling Dervish"
They have an interesting history.
As my face is about to hit the keyboard and I have to get the mattress off my back early,I'll explain in the morning,errr make that afternoon.
Wholley.

OK, Wholley, I`ll be here waiting! I saw whirling dervishes in Egypt during a trip I took in the seventies, but I must admit that I`m ignorant of their history.

I think you boys have been smoking to much tribal grass if you ask me...

There's nothing illegal about smoking Oregano!!! :crazyeyes:

The Whirling Dervishes where once a Turkish Sect that was banned, as the Dervished whirled and chanted from the Koran they would thrust swords through their body and do things to them selfs that would make you go quite grey, with out any apperent harm. This was a bit much for the main stream Mullhas who tried have the sect put down.

Thanks for the info, Tab. My husband and I were posted to the Arab Emirates and I spent time in Saudi Arabia with an Arab family before I was married. I noticed men with long hair and beards, dressed in dirty, ragged blue and white striped distashes. They appeared to be mad, although people seemed to hold them in some sort of special consideration. I was told that they were "dervishes", and were the anointed of God. I then spotted them again in Egypt as I mentioned previously.

Well,
Thanks for that Tab.
Taken the wind out of my sails so you have.
Just when I thought I had someones attention,
along you come and spoil it all.
Wholley.

snyder wrote:I actually had several of those moments, but that was the only one I could remember.

Hey, Snyder! That`s funny. My rite of passage also involves transportation; riding buses and taxis in Third World countries to be precise. Riding either one of those has got to be one of the most dangerous (and thrilling) rides on earth. The vehicle always inevitably start to take wild turns as the driver pretend to fall asleep. Then, just before he veers of the road and over a cliff, he "wakes up" and steer the car back on course. In a bus, he always initiates a conversation with the people behind him while simultaneously watching the Bruce Lee movie playing on the TV mounted on the ceiling, just over his head. I have breathed lethal combinations of second-hand smoke, dust, and sub-tropical body odor. I`d start coughing, and in doing so I`d wake up a baby who then start crying uncontrollably in Dolby surround sound for the duration of the trip. There were no shock absorbers, and the seats were always designed to hold people the size of embryos.
I am pleased to report that I did survive that rite of passage without catching Ebola, being detained by local police, being mugged in a dark alley, or catching Ebola from the police in a dark alley!
And Buford, I was young and foolish also!

Sorry to steal your thunder Wholley but I thought you needed your beauty sleep.

Tab wrote:Sorry to steal your thunder Wholley but I thought you needed your beauty sleep.

I think ALL of you hiJackers need yer beauty sleep... not that I think it's gonna do any good, mind you... Is there any such thing as Smart Sleep? .... always wondered about that in my dim-bulb kind of way... Oh.. and, but...to get back to "Rites of Passage"... and no I'm NOT writing a freakin book! ... a long-trusted buddy just informed me that copious doses of 'Wild Turkey' 80-proof 'really-does' induce Smart-Sleep... like I'm gonna believe him!

Ardennes44 wrote:

snyder wrote:I actually had several of those moments, but that was the only one I could remember.

And Buford, I was young and foolish also!

I can imagine you young, but never foolish. I loved your travel story.

Your experience sounded nearly as bad when I had to catch the red eye flight from Perth to Sydney, in economy, getting the window seat next to an extremely large person and finding my own seat wouldn't recline. Hours of torture relieved only by moments of sheer terror, and lingering regret that I was born to be tall.

I think we now need some top five stories. Top 5 travel rites of passage. Mine are based on a very limited travelling experience but here goes.

1. Skiing in the back country of the Snowy Mountains in perfect powder, brilliant blue sky and not another person in sight;

2. The sight of the Humpbacks migrating up the coast of NSW;

3. Sun setting over the Olgas (too many tourists at the Rock);

4. The colour of the water around the Whitsunday Islands;

5. Watching a child being born (and waking at 2am and 3am etc etc, Muuuuum I'm hungry.....Muuuuum can I have?.....Muuuum my sister's annoying me......) Hmmmm hang on, maybe better scrap No 5. Can't though. Too late.

Travel Rite of Passage.
Mine are all dirty sea stories involving women, booze and old salts playing tricks on us. Never ask the Chief Boatswain for a Boatswains Punch, and crossing the equator can be humiliating the first time. Oh well.
Running the streets drunk in another country after 2 months at sea is a rite of passage all of it's own.

Boy some of the travels I did when I was a kid amaze me to this day. Rite of passage. How about hitching from Idaho to San Francisco about 25 years ago? First ride: Twin Falls, ID to Jackpot, NV. Gay blackjack dealer who "never met a guy who didn't want a bj no matter where he got it." "Well, you just met one." Jackpot, NV, a collection of trailers in the desert. No rides for eight hours. Two passing rain squalls. Next ride to Wells, NV, the intersection of US 93 and Interstate 80, both two-lane roads at that time. Man, what a sunset. Next ride to Winnemucca, NV. Sleep on h.s. football field, ignoring snakes and god knows what else was crawling around.

Next ride, to Truckee, CA. Pickup truck stops. Back window opens. Young kid shoved out back window into pickup bed. Come on up front! Kid's job, feed us beers for 300 miles. Next ride to Sacramento. Stand on I-80 hitching rides. Seems kind of hot. How can you stand it out there, says next ride. Sign in the distance: 118 degrees. Next stop, S.F., call friend in Berkeley hills. Sleep on couch for a month.

Job: Pass petitions on streets of SF to get some candidate on CA ballot that fall. Earn 25 cents a signature. Population of San Francisco falls into four equal sized groups. Foreigners and derelicts who don't speak coherent English and can't sign. Businessmen who want printed information and won't sign. Secretaries in Macarthur Park at noon who take pity and will sign. Gay guys on Castro St. who will sign anything and give me beers and home phone numbers too. Cowboy hat and pointy boots a big hit.

Hey, I'm still alive!