Holy Moses, Mosaic and another border incident? Yay israel! - 04 November

Wow, that Mariott hotel in Amman was wonderful.  Well, I slept well, but something Dayna ate didn't agree with her and she was up a few times.  But it was so comfortable that I am pretty sure she did better there than she would have anywhere else, with the same issues...

But the Amman Mariott was so, so nice, I need to get some business dealings going so can get back here!

The Lobby of the Amman Mariott Hotel

This morning, we had to pack and get rolling once again.  This afternoon we cross over into Israel!  But first...

We visited Mount Nebo, where Moses looked across at the promised land before dying.  He had been advised by God that he could see the promised land but could not lead his people into it; that would be for his successor to do. 

What's really interesting about this site is that from the summit, you can see well into Israel, and off into the distance in Jordan as well.  You can see to Jerusalem if the conditions are right!

On a clear day, you could see Jerusalem.  Today you can't see squat.

Dean at summit of Mount Nebo.

Dayna at summit of Mount Nebo.

Unfortunately, today it was very windy - yikes, almost gale force winds!  A veritable desert sandstorm.  Our guide had to cover his eyes as he spoke to us, the sand was whipping around so fiercely.  Because of the sand, we couldn't see much of anything from up there, so sad.  But it was interesting anyway.  There are portions of ancient mosaics rescued from old churches on this site.  There are commemorative monuments and buildings (under construction) from a visit by Pope John Paul II in 2000.

Ancient Mosaics from the ruins on Mount Nebo

Dayna is going to have to work out more to move that rock.  It was actually used as a door at one time.  Yikes, hope it wasn't an emergency exit!

We then visited the Madaba Mosaic Workshop, just down the road.  The mosaics that they make are amazing!  Starting with relatively consistent slivers of twenty five different colours of stone, they snip various shapes and sizes of pieces off, then apply them to a base to make an elaborate image.  These images range from small (maybe 6" on a side) to huge (6 ft on a side).  There are two techniques used:
- the "old" technique where flour & water is used to stick the stones together on a cloth backing which has the pattern drawn on it, then apply an adhesive solid plate to the face and wash away the flour & water, taking away the cloth to expose the image.  Then apply grout to the face to permanently fix the stones in place.
- the "new" technique where the stones are stuck directly to a flexible cloth mesh with embedded adhesive.  The "new" technique yields a flexible image that can be rolled for shipping.

One of the interesting aspects of the school is that they employ 153 artists, of which 75% of them are folks who are special needs, giving them meaningful work with a real wage.

Which, in a roundabout way, brings me to something that you may not know about Jordan, and Islamic country - it has an impressive social safety net.  Apparently when Saladin (re crusades) took over, he recognized the concept of mercy & social responsibility.  He gave the conquered soldiers the choice of going home or staying, and many converted to Islam, they were so impressed.  He instituted a tax on the young which paid a pension to the old who could no longer work.  And, he had a system of support for widows and orphans.

So in Jordan today, they have similar rules and are quite happy with them.  The Islamic faith has in its code a responsibility to widows, orphans, and those otherwise not able to fully care for themselves.  Progressive, huh?

I didn't think I would be all that impressed with the mosaics, but when I saw the workers doing the images, I was astounded!  We purchased a circular 18" image of loaves & fishes in the new style, cost about US$120.  But little did I know what pain this little rolled up mosaic would cause me!  I don't want to get ahead of my story though.  I stuffed the rolled up mosaic in my suitcase, because Lord knows I have enough stuff to carry already, didn't figure I could handle one more thing to carry.

Then, off down the side of Mount Nebo to the traditional baptismal site on the Jordan where John the Baptist baptized Jesus.  George had asked me to read a selection from Matthew before the baptism, and a little background from that new Archaeological Study Bible - New International Version - that I have. What I wasn't expecting was for him to call on me to do it on the bus, as we drove down the mountain side to the site.  [ my excuse: I was hoping the site itself would inspire me ]  But he did, and in response, I read all of Matthew chapter 3 to the group, along with a very short editorial culled from the page opposite in said study Bible - that in the ancient Jewish tradition, baptism was performed to, among other things, signify a change in station for the recipient.  Since Jesus was beginning his ministry from that point, it was entirely appropriate for John to baptize him then.

Of course the baptism site is elaborate and full.  There are three churches constructed within a couple hundred feet of the place, and more under construction; in fact, the land on the Jordan side has been donated by the government for churches to be built.

This site has been considered sacred since the beginning of Christianity; so we saw the ruins of churches of old as well.  Right at the site where the baptism took place, there are steps leading down to the spot, steps that may well have been there in Jesus' day, and square stones to on the four sides of the spot, such that the water would form a cross there.  Unfortunately, this is actually a tributary feeding the Jordan River, and it only flows in the spring, so right now it is dry to the bottom, oh well.

The place where Jesus was baptized (between the square stones) - dry right now because the season doesn't provide water to this tributary of the Jordan

On the banks of the Jordan River itself, there is a small shelter and a platform with steps on either side, leading into the water.  In the centre of the shelter is a full font of Jordan water that can be used for baptism, or collected to take home.  George likes to baptize folks back home with River Jordan water, so Donna collected up 2 litres to take back.

The group sets out on the long walk from the parking lot to the baptism site.

Baptism font under the shelter at the River Jordan.

Dean gets re-baptized in by Col. (ret) Rev. George Davidson in the River Jordan.

Dayna gets re-baptized in by Col. (ret) Rev. George Davidson in the River Jordan.

George re-baptizes his daughter Laurie in the River Jordan.

Laurie thanks her dad George, he is her hero!

It turns out that George was wearing two piece pants, that old sly army corporal guy, so he just took off his socks & shoes, unzipped the bottom half, and strode down the steps into the water.  We then took off our socks & shoes, rolled up our pants, and followed.  George said a few words, did the baptism that I've seen and participated in many times back home (as chair of council, I have to present the baptism certificates and candles to the parents), and shook our hand.

But here's where it got interesting.  George isn't as steady as he used to be, and we were all concerned that he was going a bit too deep.  Well, the steps go right into the water, so he was able to keep his feet, but he was indeed too deep.  He got his pants a bit wet, and his ceremonial stole got soaked!  Yikes, the Jordan is very murky, and that stole looks like pretty fine fabric with a very nice pattern, not sure it will come out.  We may be buying him a new one!

George did a few people before me, and that was fine.  When it was my turn, he called me "Dale".  Oops, do I have to change my name now?  I told Dayna that this was just the Islamic pronunciation of my name, ha ha.

Then I hovered around as the baptisms went on.  I was concerned that he was looking a bit unsteady.  I haven't done a rescue & tow in 20 years, and I wasn't relishing the thought of doing it today!  Finally I figured that enough folks were around that I could put my shoes back on; besides, that river looks shallow enough that I could probably walk out to do a rescue anyway.

Here is something else interesting about this site: the River Jordan forms the political border between Jordan and Israel at this point.  So, right opposite us, about 15 feet away, is a much nicer, much larger, concrete platform with wide concrete steps, and a nice marked baptism area.  There were dozens of folks on the other side doing the same thing, singing hymns (in German methinks) and doing their thing.  All under the watchful eye of an 18 yr old soldier with an automatic weapon.  Hmm.

So the re-baptism was a success.  Onward to the border crossing into Israel, the "Jordan Valley" crossing point.  It took about 1-1/2 hours to get there, so we got there about 3 PM.  Little did we know...

Well OK so a border guard comes right onto the bus and checks each and every passport, fine.  Then our guide takes all passports to get the exit visas.  No dice, we have to do it in person.  Well OK, we file into the passport control office, and wait about 3/4 hour to get us all cleared through.  Of that 3/4 hour, about 1/2 hour was just for one person!  Not sure what he said wrong, but he's Anglican clergy, so maybe it's just him paying for being part of the wrong denomination, heh heh. 

The nice part about this border crossing is that the bus will drive us across the bridge to the Israeli side.  Before we get out of Jordan, the bus gets boarded again by a guard who takes the exit visas and checks every passport again, yikes.  Then the real fun begins.

We crossed the bridge to Israel, only to be stopped as soon as we are off the bridge.  We sit for about twenty minutes, then security personnel do an external examination of the bus (including a mirror view under the bus).  We sit for another twenty minutes, then they finally let us into the customs area.

In the customs area, we see one line, but they force us to queue up about five abreast, more of a holding pen than a lineup.  Then about fifty more Israelis pile in behind us, and there's a lot of shouting, nobody from our group knows what they are saying.  They seem to be insulting us, somebody hears the word "American" in their speech, Donna takes umbrage and chews out one of the young Israelis.  Well they finally come to terms, but I'll tell you with only one inspection person it was mighty slow.  But the best was yet to come!

Finally Dayna and I get up to the inspection person.  No problem, go into that scanner over there.  We run our bags, but as I go to put it on the belt, the tow handle won't collapse.  The X-ray inspector tells me to put the handle in, but i can't.  Well finally she puts up with that, and it all goes through.  All but my suitcase comes out the other side.  The belt goes backward, forward, backward, forward, for what seemed like five minutes.  Then I get the stern warning - do not touch that bag.  They take away my passport, put it on the bag, and set the bag aside for full inspection.  Then they seem to forget about me as they try to push all the other passengers through. 

I stood around for about half an hour, staring at my suitcase, trying not to look nervous (ever notice how that does not work?).  Now the terminal is empty, except for one or two other miscreants.  The young lady asks me for help to lift the bag onto the inspection table (I thought that I wasn't supposed to touch it, but hey).  She opens it up, looks at the mosaic, asks what it is, admires it for a bit, then removes it.  We zip the bag back up, run it through the scanner, and now it's fine!  It was the mosaic all along, yikes.  I wonder what it looks like in the X-ray machine?  I shudder to think what hundreds of pieces of rock look like in there.

So I was the last person out by about 20 minutes.  The new guide (we get new guide, driver and bus each time we change countries) even knows my name and shouts as I exit the controlled area.  He seems relieved, because he promised Dayna that he'd find her a new husband if I didn't come out.  I'm thankful he didn't have to live up to his promise!  Like our other tour guides, this guy, Lazarus, seems like a very good guy.  We're thankful, because we've heard horror stories of guides in times past that weren't so good.

Well we finally got the kibbutz at about 6:30 PM, very late.  We missed our afternoon stop here, but we're going to get up very, very early and do it all tomorrow, oh boy oh boy.

We aren't actually on the kibbutz commune itself, but at the Nof Ginosar Hotel, owned by the kibbutz.  Although Spartan in appearance, it's actually quite nice.  It looks like a whole suite outfitted in the Ikea style!

Intrepid blog writer getting sleepy and feeling the effects of wine - having trouble keeping his eye open!

Crusader Castle & Calamity - 03 November

Well, we started the day with some excitement - I could not find my glasses!  I am sure they are quite safe, they are in their glasses case, with a pair of sunglass clip-ons, but they are no longer in my possession, sigh.  We looked high and low, emptied all our suitcases and hand luggage, but no sign of them.  Finally, out of time, we had to run to check out, eat breakfast and get on the bus to leave Wadi Musa.  It wasn't until a couple of hours later that I thought that they are probably stuck down behind the desk or the suitcase stand.  As it turns out, I could have had another chance to retrieve them... but, more on that later.

The lower half of this picture is a view of the Bait Zama resort centre where we stayed 2 nights in Wadi Musa (aka Wadi Mousa, these Arab names are so confusing!)

Fortunately, although I do complain about my eyesight, it isn't really that bad.  I'm a bit nearsighted, but my vision is actually adequate for, say, touring.  So, onward we go!  We had to stop to buy water anyway, so we got a chance to see the Moses Springs in Wadi Musa (which supplies the Petra facility several km away through secret underground passages), and I bought a pair of cheap sunglasses from a convenience store.

Moses Springs in Wadi Musa

I did commission the resort to do a search of the room, and I inquired at the front desk and the restaurant about if they had been turned in, but no luck.  I'm not sure they would have looked behind the furniture, however.  Sigh.

We left promptly at 8 AM, but decided to go to the Ash Shubak castle, instead of Kerak.  They are both 12th century crusader's castles, but Ash Shubak is less busy and actually the first one of its kind to be built anyway.

Ash Shubak castle

Entrance to Castle (note split capstone of arch)

These castles were part of a network that were built to defend the Holy Land after it was taken by the Christian Crusaders.  It was held for some 70 years by the Christians, until Saladin and his Muslim armies took back the holy land and the castles.  Fascinating, they actually reworked key elements of the design of the exterior interior of the castle to make them more Islamic styled.  for instance, the Christians built arches in the Roman style, with a single capstone.  Muslims built arches with a split capstone.  So they changed many of the archways to be Islamic in style. 

We have one woman who has difficulty walking any significant distance, so her husband pushes her in a wheelchair, so nice.  However, it turns out that the narrow road to the castle has a steep slope down then a steep slope up.  It's too narrow for the bus to navigate, so we had to disembark at the visitor centre and do the hills on foot.

Well, the run down was precarious, but it was short, and we managed to keep the wheelchair straight and slow.  On the way up, well, the 5,000 ft elevation strained the husband's ability, so halfway up, he needed help.  I was about to jump in when one of the ladies of the group started to help.  She had one side and the husband had the other side, which was great.  With about 100 ft to the top, she slipped and fell, hurting her wrist, and at about the same time, the husband just plain ran out of steam.  So I had to jump on the wheelchair and push it, alone, to the top.  Yikes, had no real idea what altitude could do to your strength - well more like your stamina!  It was all I could do to get that blessed wheelchair to the top.  Of course it was windy, gusty and dusty, so then had to help the lady into the castle while her husband caught up and transported the wheelchair.

Some of our folks tended to the injured lady, who herself was apparently a nurse before she retired, and we went on to tour the castle.  The tour guide was a local fellow with a basic grasp of English, but great knowledge, wit and humour. 

Now the big concern was that the trip up was precarious enough, but going back down that slope in a wheelchair was going to be dangerous, well actually pretty well impossible.

As we went off to do our tour, I saw a young lady drive up in a pickup truck.  I waited for her and asked if she would run our wheelchair lady back down.  Well she spoke perfect English, and said she would.  Apparently she was from University of Florence, Italy, was a PhD student doing archaeological work on the castle.  Wonderful, I'll look you up in half an hour when it's time to leave.  Then, since I kind of missed the group, I proceeded to run around the castle
on my own.  Very neat, but a dangerous place - lots of loose stones, pits & wells just waiting for you to step into...  but I managed to avoid all that stuff and got some nice pictures. 

Finally, it was time to go down, but I could not find that young lady from Florence!  I looked and looked, talked to her colleagues, even thought I caught sight of her for a few seconds, but could not track her down. 

As a result, the lady who should have rode in the wheelchair had to walk down the slope (which was apparently possible for her, it's going up that's not possible), with someone else trailing with the wheelchair.

Once on the bus (first had to pay 1 Jordan dinar to use the bathroom - well actually the bathroom is free but the toilet paper is 1 JD), we found that our guide had taken the injured lady off to hospital.  Now we find out what the Tourist Police do - apparently they transported her there.  Now we had to meet them at the hospital, in the tour bus, and see what shakes.

So where do you think the hospital is?  All the way back in Wadi Musa!  So we drove 1-1/4 hour back to the hospital.  She was already done!  She had been seen, triaged, X-rayed twice, diagnosed with two fractures in the wrist, cast & splinted, all by the time we got there.  The total cost?  About 70 JD - about US$100.  She purchased the insurance, so she will get reimbursed - but it's nice to know that health care is not exorbitantly priced here.  [ NB we have the insurance too, and I'm glad we do ]

The Hospital in Wadi Musa.  Note pictures of present and previous kings of Jordan over entrance - these pictures are everywhere, even on private cars - Jordanians really really love their king!

Then we were back on the road, now about 2 hours late.  We just burned it back through Wadi Musa, right past the resort we had stayed at (I waved a sad goodbye to my glasses for a second time), and out onto the highway.  Man, that driver drove as never before - at least on our trip so far!  We had a quick stop for lunch (another 1 JD for bathroom break, this is getting annoying), and then off to Madaba to see an Orthodox church with an amazing ancient map mosaic on the floor.  Now, apparently, the mosaic was part of a very old cathedral that fell into ruins, but some folk re-discovered the ruins in the 19th century and built the modern church on top, to preserve the mosaic and re-consecrate the site. 

Lunch Stop, nice place, but keep lots of 1 JD notes on hand, especially if you plan to take a bathroom break!

The map mosaic in the floor

Parishioners start to file in, we are still gawking and taking pictures.  Very beautiful church, by the way!

Here's where it gets uncomfortable - the parishioners aren't just arriving for any mass - it's a funeral mass!

As we were inside the church and started gawking and looking around, we noticed that local folk were coming in and sitting down.  Some had trays of food.  Hmm, they are about to start a service here, I thought, so I left.  Then someone pointed out that they were all wearing black.  OOPS!  We were holding up a funeral mass!  We got our folks out just in time.  The locals were starting to look at us funny!  Now we found out why we were in such a rush to get there.  Oh well, we saw it anyway.

We were then supposed to run to the summit of Mount Nebo, which is the place from which Moses saw the Promised Land before he died (he was advised that he could see it but not lead the people to it, because he had disobeyed God in the early days of wandering).  This summit gives a huge panoramic view of the Holy Land, including the River Jordan, Jerusalem, and points all around.  However, it turns out that at that late hour, the summit was closed (dusk falls at about 4:45 PM, and it was 4:15 PM by now). 

Instead, we went straight into Amman to check into the Mariott Hotel, which is fine by me.  We'll do Mount Nebo tomorrow first thing.

But this Mariott, wow!  What a nice hotel!  And here, they have metal detectors and X-Ray machines, but they actually pay attention.  I got patted down because I didn't take off my watch.  Hmm.

Dinner was nice, probably the nicest we've had on the trip.  We then decided to take a stroll down the shopping strip with one of our fellow travellers, Cheryl  Morrison from Calgary.  This was entertaining, because traffic here is very different than back home.  Well they drive on the s  ame side of the road, they drive like maniacs, but they are extremely courteous.  There are very few signals and lots of roundabouts.  When it comes to crossing the street, you judge your gaps, make your move, watch the traffic, adjust your pace, and wave off cars if you have to - they will stop.  Cheryl had some trouble with this technique, and she and Dayna wanted to run everywhere, yikes.  We made it there and back though, so we must have done something right.

We went to the shopping area because they wanted to check things out, but it was me who bought stuff.  Well, Cheryl did buy some earrings, which was a fair penny, something like US$80, then again, not bad.  But it was I who purchased a pair of headphones with microphone (so I can Skype call and save money on long distance!) for the big price of 5 JD, and then later, a watch for 3 JD.  Like I said, big spender.  [ late breaking news: tried to set the time on the watch, and it doesn't work - the hour hand won't move - I got took, call the police!  Oh well, it's a loss of US$5 and I got a laugh out of the whole thing ]

So that's enough excitement for one day.  Tomorrow, we are moving onward, first a few sites here in Jordan, including re-baptism in the River Jordan, apparently where John baptized Jesus, wow!  Then into Israel, where we get a boat trip on the Sea of Galilee, and lots more. 

Until next post...

Petra, Mini Petra, and Beidha Neolithic Village - 02 November

Today was the day that we finally get to see the facade of Petra, the building that lent its image to the stunning visuals of the movie "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade".

I was up far too late last night catching up on my blogging, so when the 6:30 AM wake up call arrived at 6 AM, it was a bit annoying.  But hey I went back to sleep easily enough, then tried to catch up by rushing - always a good plan, or maybe not...

I managed to get enough together that we could make breakfast then the bus, but I'd have to brush my teeth down at the restaurant.  No problem, except, as I found out much later, I apparently left my toothbrush & toothpaste behind.  So now I need a toothbrush, oh well.  Foolish moves.

First stop was Petra itself - see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petra .  What a long walk!  About 2 km from the vistor's centre to the entrance to the city, then another say 2 km in the Siq (narrow jagged entry passage between the walls of rock).  It then opens up to show the Treasury, the facade that the Indiana Jones movie (among others) made famous.  Very impressive, very amazing!

Not sure what the motion picture industry thinks of the use of their trademark, but this shop sells all kinds of stuff, including hats that look nothing like Indiana Jones hats

But... did you know that all this was just a tomb for a beloved ruler?  Yikes, not the hiding place for the Holy Grail after all (ha ha).  Well, so much for the accuracy of the Indiana Jones movies!  Great entertainment but not quite factual, I can live with that.


In fact, there are several tombs along the siq (entry passage) in, much smaller and less elaborate of course, but some are still quite large and impressive.

Also, when you get to the Treasury, you haven't seen one tenth of the site yet.  Turn to your right and then to your left and continue, and the city opens up into more tombs, some of which are quite magnificent, an amphitheatre, then hundreds of living quarters, and it goes on and on.  Apparently, during its heyday something like 30,000 inhabitants lived here, wow.

The Treasury

The city was built at the crossing of three ancient overland major trade routes, providing safe haven and resting point for travellers and their animals, and a trading venue for their wares.  For hundreds of years, it prospered.

We of course had limited time and could not see everything, but we did wander down through the ruins and then climbed the stairs up to a large tomb cut up high in the rock.  We got some magnificent pictures from there.

We stand about 100 feet up in the entrance to a tomb up high on the rock face, a picture overlooking the north end of the ancient Petra City

So the entry passage is wider than you think it would be.  It's something like 8 to 14 ft wide most of the way, with one short passage that's only about 6 ft wide (where workers have erected scaffolding and a screen to prevent a rock collapse).  It's not all that difficult to navigate.  However, there is a lot of two way traffic in this passage!  There are "chariots", well 3 person horse drawn carriages (2 persons plus driver) racing up and down, plus folks being taken in and out on horseback.  The floor of the passage was originally sandstone, as is the other rock that makes the walls etc., and it was quite soft, only suitable for pedestrian traffic.  When the Roman Empire took over, they re-paved the passage in limestone, which allowed carriages and the like to make it through.  But when the walled city fell into disrepair after a devastating earthquake, the man-made defences for flash flooding eventually failed, and the resultant water runs cut the walls to collapse, and damaged the floor of the passage.  Recent restorative work has replaced some of the limestone, cleaned other bits, and put more modern materials in other places.  Much of the floor is sand coloured, but there is still a lot of rough hewn "cobbled stone" limestone in place.  This stone is bone jarring for those riding in the carriages!  We saw people in agony as the carriage raced across the stones.  Some of our tour group rode in carriages and confirmed that it was a very rough ride.

Rev. George Davidson and Sandra Madder share a carriage from the visitor centre to Petra

Petra had an amazing water distribution system hidden in the rock.  When the erosion and damage occurred, it uncovered the secret.  There was a clay lined trough hidden in the left side wall of the passage (clay lined to prevent seepage into the surrounding relatively porous rock), carefully covered with fitted rock pieces to make it look inconspicuous.  This water supply was extended right back to a deep well a short distance away.  Enemies didn't know the source, couldn't interrupt or poison it, so the city could live for a long time, even under siege.

Petra water distribution along side of passageway - lined with clay and topped by cap stones.  They would just make a hole into the water passage, and water would seem to mysteriously come out of the rock!

Another view of the water distribution channel, showing a piece of the clay lining

With the tall rock around and the assured water supply, the narrow entry passageway was easy to defend for long periods.  Enemies could be attacked from above; the passageway could be closed, and the city live happily for months.

The Romans finally got the city to succumb by building a bypass trade route, and cutting off Petra's source of income, a brilliant and devastating strategy.

After spending a few hours at Petra, we went for lunch at a wonderful restaurant, then off to Al Beidha, or Little Petra.  Now, the actual caravans and their animals could not fit into Petra itself, unless very few at a time, so the animals were actually put up in Little Petra.  Here there are water passages like in Petra itself, but they feed large cisterns carved into the rock, which also function as water troughs for the animals.  Also magnificent!

Feature at the entrance to Little Petra.  Is it a tax collection booth?

One of many cisterns in the rock at Little Petra

A feature cut in the rock at Little Petra, purpose unknown (at least to me!)

Lastly, we walked from Little Petra to the Beidha Neolithic Village, about 2 km away.  Here an archeological dig has unearthed an entire village about 9,000 years old, amazing!  There is also a reconstructed Neolithic home in this ancient style.

Exhausted and thirsty, we made our way back to the resort.  I figured I'd take a dip in the pool before supper, do some laps and work off a bit of that good  food I've been eating.  I went down to the pool, and it's a good size, probably 20 to 25 metre lengths, wonderful, but to my surprise the water is warmer than a hot bath!  The whole pool!  Well I tried to do my 1500 metres but it was me against the warm water and the warm water won - I was only able to pound out about 750 metres before I had to give up.  Oh well.

Then of course off to another great supper, a few glasses of wine, and... oops, have to do this blog.  THEN off to bed.  It's another early morning, and tomorrow we are on the move, up to Amman, with several stops along the way.  Until next time...

A border incident? And Wadi Rum - 01 November

So we're up in the morning to have breakfast, pack, and leave the resort.  We are going from Egypt to Jordan today, with a short trip through the southern tip of Israel.

We loaded up the bus, got on the bus, got ready to drive away, even did a pass around the reception loop and back to the door of the hotel.  It turns out that you have to get clearance from the Egyptian "Tourist Police" (yes that's what they call them, you can see the buildings cars & uniforms everywhere) before they will even open the gate of the resort to let us out!  So we wait for about 40 minutes to get that clearance.  So now we are 40 minutes late starting.

The drive to the Egyptian/Israeli border is shorter than we anticipated, about 20 minutes.  We say "goodbye" to our guide and drivers, then off we go, bags in tow.

It turns out that you are treated just like in an airport.  You go through a metal detector, put your bags through an X-Ray scanner, then an optional bag inspection.  Then they take your passport and check it in some way.  Then you go back outside to a deserted "no man's land" stretch of road, where you must walk the 100 or 200 feet to the Israeli side, where you queue up and do the whole metal detector, X-Ray scanner, bag inspection, passport check again.

Well I should say that in all our stay in Egypt, we went through dozens of metal detectors.  Only at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo did anyone even pay attention to them.  At the end, we were ignoring them, keeping our change and pens etc in our pockets, the metal detectors would go like crazy, and nobody would care.  And in the X-Ray machines in Egypt, nobody blinks an eye about my briefcase full of electronic gear - notebook computer & adapter, world cell phone & adapter, BlackBerry, handheld GPS, little camcorder, digital camera, etc.

But at the border crossing, I emptied my pockets as I should, put my bag on the belt and went through like a good boy.  No problem exiting Egypt.

Now, getting into Israel was another matter.  We ended up behind an American tour group, which was no problem, but this meant that we had to queue up, Disneyland-snake-style, and wait to get through.  I was about third or fourth of our group in line.  We saw a pre-screen customs person (beautiful young women guards at this border crossing, let me tell you, but hey they have the guns and we are tourists, so shut up and answer the questions!).  Then, just as we reached the X-Ray machine, the security staff started shouting for us to leave our bags and got back out the entrance way IMMEDIATELY.  I snagged my wallet (passport was already in hand) and headed back as I was told, as the rest of the crowd started backing out WITH their luggage.  I was shouting to leave the luggage as we were instructed (the pretty young ladies have accents and may not have been understood), which they finally did, and went outside.  Well then they were a bit upset at ME.  Well, hey, when Israeli security tells you to *vacate the building* you do what you are told!  Then they let us back in.  We aren't sure what happened, but someone noticed that they let the lone wheelchair person and her husband stay through the commotion, so we suspect that it was a drill, ugh.

Then we get to immigration control.  I approach a station and ask for my visa to be put on a separate piece of paper (Dave Batson advised me many years ago, and our guide reiterated this today, that it's a good idea to not have Israeli visa in your passport, in case you ever go to say Saudi Arabia).  She shoved a form at me and told me to  go back and fill it out.  Fine, but there is no place to do that.  She shrugged.  Not her problem, apparently.  So I wandered back and found an ATM that had a surface I could write on.  [ luckily I always carry my own pen ]  Back to another station, another young woman.  This one on her BlackBerry the whole time, sounds like she's talking to her boyfriend.  Passed me through, no problem.  Except she apparently forgot to give me an important piece of paper...  but I'm skipping ahead in the story.

The whole thing took so long that security sent our bus away.  We had to wait another 30 minutes outside in the heat, waiting for another one.  So now we are in Israel.  A 20 minute drive across Israel, and now it's time to do the Israel-to-Jordan crossing.

This time we line up for an exit visa from Israel, then go to the armed security station just outside no man's land.  He passes everyone except for two of us, saying we were missing the requisite "pink piece of paper" and that we had to go back to Passport Control to get it.  THIS Passport Control, or the one at the Egyptian border, I ask?  Well, this one will do, fortunately.  So I get the pink paper, present myself at the border, and this young man (with automatic weapon at his side) looks at it and says, "Sorry, wrong pink paper," and hands the passport back.  I just managed to choke out a "what?" before he chuckled, took it back, and said "JUST KIDDING."  Oh my God, I guess he has a bit of a sense of humour too.  And he managed to get a rise out of me, that's for sure.  I take border security too seriously, perhaps.

Then we stumble the 100 to 200 feet to the Jordan side of the border, where they subject us to metal detectors (results ignored) and X-Ray machine (they asked to see the laptop and that was all).  Whew!  Then another 45 minutes for Jordan officials to check the passports, before we could get on the bus.  Oh, and another 100 foot walk with our luggage to get to the bus, too.

All of this left us tired and a bit grumpy.  Fortunately, we zipped into Aqaba and picked up box lunches, and off to our next stop, the Wadi Rum desert.

I wasn't expecting much out of this stop, but it was a blast!  We were loaded into old beat-up Toyota & Nissan 4x4 trucks fitted with open air benches in the back, and zoomed out across the desert.  Well, "zoomed" might be exaggerating a bit.  We rolled out across the desert.  We stopped to take in some breathtaking views, get a camel ride (dromedary actually but I'll never tell), visit a Bedouin tent and have some of their special tea & smell their incense (unfortunately incense and I don't get along but I sucked it up for the occasion).  Then back to the interpretive centre.

Now, these 4x4 trucks - they were rough and beat up, all sounded like diesel engines, although a careful listen tells me only half of them were diesels (others were just on their last legs?).  The seats in the back were not bolted down, which made me nervous.  And the "cover" and "roll cage" was made of tent poles, no help at all.  Fortunately, we did go fairly slowly most of the way, although I must say it was pretty bumpy.  There was a "back rack" right behind the cab and I hung tightly onto that, figuring that I could probably hold Dayna and I in the box if I had to.  Turns out she had noticed and was hanging on tightly too.  Well, no big troubles, except for one...

At the first stop, we were there only about 30 seconds when there was a deafening "bang" like a gunshot.  I thought one of the goof drivers had shot a rifle into the air to create a scene.  Well, no, it was the right rear tire of the 4x4 behind us letting go in spectacular fashion!  We were shocked, but as we went on our way getting our pictures, the four drivers got together, took a spare out of one of the other trucks (seems they only carry one between them), and changed the tire.  Put me a bit on edge, because if that happened while driving...  well, I worry too much.

By the time we reached the resort in which we are staying, it was thoroughly dark.  It's very nice, but very confusing.  It's called Bait Zama, in Wadi Mousa.  Maybe you can look it up.  It's actually a rebuilt ancient community with many buildings, each housing several large suites.  It's very nice.  However, dozens of steps and cobblestone roads make it tough to find your room!  Hopefully some pictures tomorrow.

Well, past time to crash.  More later!

Tabaaaaaah! - 31 October

Well, today was what they call a "free day".  This does not mean free as in no cost!  It means "do what you want".  But it was nice anyway.

Well, I figured out today why the ancient Egyptians used to worship the sun.  Man, is it nice here!  For a fleeting moment, I had this vision of plunking down my Visa card and saying that we'd stay here for the rest of our time in the far east - rejoining the tour just in time to fly home.  But, as I say, it was a fleeting thought - I cannot pass up the opportunity to see all of the other Holy Land sights!

I woke up early this morning, something like 7 AM, with the feeling of cotton batten in my mouth.  Yup, my CPAP machine, which never uses up its supply of water, had used up all its water in the night.  I guess that's what they mean when they say you are in a desert!  I refilled it and re-crashed.

We were up at the break of 9 AM for breakfast.  Yes, it was nice to sleep in for one day, without having to pack and run for the bus.

We lounged around the resort pool for the morning, and that was nice.  The pool itself was actually quite cold, more like a lap pool than a spa pool, but what the heck.  As we sat by the pool, I could hear all kinds of languages spoken - not that I could understand any of it - but I heard several distinctive languages, including Italian, French, German and Russian.  This really drove home the fact that we are actually in a resort on the other side of the planet!

At noon hour, we took the shuttle bus to the "Taba Resort Centre", which is an open air mall of little shops.  Almost every shop we went into, the shop keeper said, "British" and smiled.  I had to say "no, Canadian," and they were astonished.  My guess is that they have a lot more British tourists here than Canadian - which makes sense, if it's 13 hours of flying just to get here!

In the afternoon, we did something evil and washed some of our clothes in the sink.  It's so dry here that they dry almost immediately!  Well, just my luck that apparently my clothing holds more water, and sadly it's still wet - I may be packing wet clothing in the morning, ugh.  We have to pass through Israeli customs and then Jordanian customs on our way to Petra tomorrow; pity the poor border guard that has to open and inspect my clothing, ha ha!

Then we packed up and went down to the beach.  Dave Batson told me quite earnestly that I had to take a swim in the Red Sea, and being the earnest friend of Dave that I am, I took that as an order.  I've never had a swim in salt water before, wow!  It turns out that the sea is actually much warmer than the pool.  The only annoying thing was that there are a lot of rocks along the shore, you *must* wear sandals when going into the sea.  Because of this, I left my goggles on the shore, but I didn't realize that the rocks stop and it's back to pure sand about 20 ft offshore.  Well anyway, I took a nice long swim in the sea.  I couldn't open my eyes, it was very painful, and I got a significant salt taste with every stroke, but it was great!  The water was very soft with all that salt.  But hey, being on a sodium reduced diet, I have to really watch my intake for the next month -  yikes.  All in all, a very nice thing to do.  Thanks, Dave.

While we were in town I finally found a place to purchase a corkscrew, so we could open the bottle of wine that we bought in Giza (oh I see now that I didn't include that story in the blog, sorry, should have).  Well, let's just say that I wanted a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, and ended up with Rose, at an inflated price.  We'd better drink it before we exit Egypt, I said, because I have no inclination of carrying it home!  Well, so I bought the corkscrew, and then came back to the room.  A half hour later, I was fumbling with my swimming stuff, and what falls out of my bag?  A multi-purpose hobby knife with corkscrew!  Oh, man.  Well at least I have a mediocre Egyptian style corkscrew now.  A trophy, a keepsake, yeah right. 

So we finally got to drink that Egyptian rose wine that we got in Giza.  Whoopee.  It was OK.  Especially after the first glass :-)

One last thing about the Taba Resort.  I spotted some interesting trees.  They are tall but too too straight!  Well you get up closer and take a look at the top - they aren't trees at all, but cell towers!  I've read about them, but never seen them in the wild.