Day 153
As you (who?) know, the online journal found here consists of excerpts from my paper journal. It's almost the same as the paper one, except that I (generally) excise all of the personal, emotional stuff. Some shit's private, right?
So, um, I think I'll excise ALL of Syria and post some sort of synopsis here instead. Look for that in a few days.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Day 152:
The Jordanian people seem very proud of the stability that their country enjoys. There is, here, a longstanding and benevolent monarchy. There is stable governance and economic growth, despite Jordan's relative lack of oil. Indeed, Jordan is a better place to live than many of it's oil rich neighbours. Jordan has also been blessed with some amount of empty space... it's a rather large country, with a rather small population. Things are not crowded here, nor are they overburdened as they are in Egypt. I've noticed, also, that many Jordanian people look down on the fundamentalism found elsewhere in the region (Iran, especially). For good reason.
So, yeah, I'm in Syria now. I got in! I didn't think that I would, actually: visitors are officially required to apply for a visa in their home country, something that was impossible for me to do. But... I just showed up at the border, paid my 56 bucks and thirty minutes later I was on the road to Damascus.
There is one quirk of middle eastern travel that all backpackers know: if you have an Israeli stamp in your passport, you will be denied entry to a host of Islamic countries (namely Syria, Iran, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Oman, Qatar, UAE). There was a lady in line behind me who was forbidden entry for that reason. Curiously, she did NOT have that stamp, bur rather officials pointed at some residue from a sticker that was peeled off of the back of her passport. Odd, that.
I spent my first day in Damascus, the Syrian capital, wandering the street of the old, walled, centre of town. Nice winding alleyways, cobblestone streets and tenth century mosques. I saw Saladin's final resting place, a nice complement to my visit to Kerak castle a few days ago I think.
The Jordanian people seem very proud of the stability that their country enjoys. There is, here, a longstanding and benevolent monarchy. There is stable governance and economic growth, despite Jordan's relative lack of oil. Indeed, Jordan is a better place to live than many of it's oil rich neighbours. Jordan has also been blessed with some amount of empty space... it's a rather large country, with a rather small population. Things are not crowded here, nor are they overburdened as they are in Egypt. I've noticed, also, that many Jordanian people look down on the fundamentalism found elsewhere in the region (Iran, especially). For good reason.
So, yeah, I'm in Syria now. I got in! I didn't think that I would, actually: visitors are officially required to apply for a visa in their home country, something that was impossible for me to do. But... I just showed up at the border, paid my 56 bucks and thirty minutes later I was on the road to Damascus.
There is one quirk of middle eastern travel that all backpackers know: if you have an Israeli stamp in your passport, you will be denied entry to a host of Islamic countries (namely Syria, Iran, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Oman, Qatar, UAE). There was a lady in line behind me who was forbidden entry for that reason. Curiously, she did NOT have that stamp, bur rather officials pointed at some residue from a sticker that was peeled off of the back of her passport. Odd, that.
I spent my first day in Damascus, the Syrian capital, wandering the street of the old, walled, centre of town. Nice winding alleyways, cobblestone streets and tenth century mosques. I saw Saladin's final resting place, a nice complement to my visit to Kerak castle a few days ago I think.
Day 149, 150, 151
I love it when a plan comes together.
Ahem.
My original plan, to follow Petra, was to spend a day and a night at each of Sarnok castle and Kerak castle - two old crusader castles north of Wadi Musa. Following that, I planned to spend three nights in Amman and then move on to Syria (or Lebanon or Turkey or Israel or whichever country would issue me a tourist visa). But instead of sleeping at those castles, I found a taxi driver who was willing to take me all the way to Amman and was willing to stop and wait for me while I explored each of those castles for a couple of hours. Thusly, I managed to shave two days off of my journey! Fourth months ago I wouldn't have CARED about two nights, but now I am anxious to visit friends in France and then get back to Canada before November sets in.
Those two castles, by the way, were wonderful to visit. The pyramids and even Petra were amazing and awe-inspiring and all of that, but visiting a place that I have spent some time studying (university, yo) is intellectually stimulating. I don't really know who the Nabateans were, nor do I really know what the ancient Egyptians were all about, but I have a pretty decent idea of what the crusaders were up to.
Of the two castles, Kerak played a larger role in the history of the region. It was there that Reynald of Chamblay (wikipedia, yo) commanded his armies and where he died while under seige by the armies of Saladin, whose prowess in battle sealed the fate of all of the crusaders. Today the castle is a crumbling affair, though restoration continues and visitors can clearly see walls, rooms, churches and towers. It's a very photogenic place, and I snapped a few nice pictures.
The fort was built in the early 12th century, I think and was captured by the Muslim armies towards the middle of the 13th.
Curiously, I was interested to learn that the Mongols plowed into the middle east around 1260, around the end of the crusader period here. Truly, in the 13th century, the entire world found it's way to the holy land.
While Kerak has more history (and more restoration work), Sarok castle was much more FUN to visit. This was mainly due to the fact that Sarok has an ESCAPE TUNNEL that visitors can crawl through. Indeed... despite my claustrophobia, I made the 20 minute trip down into the bowels of the earth.... in pitch dark, aided by a flashlight. And fuck, man, REALLY FUCKING SCARY. The crusaders didn't fuck around when it came to digging escape tunnels. Making my way deep into the ground was the scariest thing I have ever done, probably.
Anyways: the tunnel eventually exits at the base of a hill, rather far away from the castle.
Yikes.
I'm at the "Sultan Hotel" in Amman. Like I said, things have really come together. This hotel is great, and my taxi driver put it all together for me, arranging a great price. I'm paying about nine dollars for a great double room with a private bathroom, satellite TV and hot water. That would have cost me 15 or 20 bucks had I tried getting it on my own.
I've visited some of Amman's ancient sights, including a restored Roman Theatre (looking exactly as you might expect) and a pair of small folk museums built in the wings. I spend my evenings here watching BBC world and "Tyra," my new favorite talk show. Ever.
(also: I spent nine bucks chasing a Poste Restante letter from Jennifer all over town. And you know what? I found it. I love it when a plan comes together.)
I love it when a plan comes together.
Ahem.
My original plan, to follow Petra, was to spend a day and a night at each of Sarnok castle and Kerak castle - two old crusader castles north of Wadi Musa. Following that, I planned to spend three nights in Amman and then move on to Syria (or Lebanon or Turkey or Israel or whichever country would issue me a tourist visa). But instead of sleeping at those castles, I found a taxi driver who was willing to take me all the way to Amman and was willing to stop and wait for me while I explored each of those castles for a couple of hours. Thusly, I managed to shave two days off of my journey! Fourth months ago I wouldn't have CARED about two nights, but now I am anxious to visit friends in France and then get back to Canada before November sets in.
Those two castles, by the way, were wonderful to visit. The pyramids and even Petra were amazing and awe-inspiring and all of that, but visiting a place that I have spent some time studying (university, yo) is intellectually stimulating. I don't really know who the Nabateans were, nor do I really know what the ancient Egyptians were all about, but I have a pretty decent idea of what the crusaders were up to.
Of the two castles, Kerak played a larger role in the history of the region. It was there that Reynald of Chamblay (wikipedia, yo) commanded his armies and where he died while under seige by the armies of Saladin, whose prowess in battle sealed the fate of all of the crusaders. Today the castle is a crumbling affair, though restoration continues and visitors can clearly see walls, rooms, churches and towers. It's a very photogenic place, and I snapped a few nice pictures.
The fort was built in the early 12th century, I think and was captured by the Muslim armies towards the middle of the 13th.
Curiously, I was interested to learn that the Mongols plowed into the middle east around 1260, around the end of the crusader period here. Truly, in the 13th century, the entire world found it's way to the holy land.
While Kerak has more history (and more restoration work), Sarok castle was much more FUN to visit. This was mainly due to the fact that Sarok has an ESCAPE TUNNEL that visitors can crawl through. Indeed... despite my claustrophobia, I made the 20 minute trip down into the bowels of the earth.... in pitch dark, aided by a flashlight. And fuck, man, REALLY FUCKING SCARY. The crusaders didn't fuck around when it came to digging escape tunnels. Making my way deep into the ground was the scariest thing I have ever done, probably.
Anyways: the tunnel eventually exits at the base of a hill, rather far away from the castle.
Yikes.
I'm at the "Sultan Hotel" in Amman. Like I said, things have really come together. This hotel is great, and my taxi driver put it all together for me, arranging a great price. I'm paying about nine dollars for a great double room with a private bathroom, satellite TV and hot water. That would have cost me 15 or 20 bucks had I tried getting it on my own.
I've visited some of Amman's ancient sights, including a restored Roman Theatre (looking exactly as you might expect) and a pair of small folk museums built in the wings. I spend my evenings here watching BBC world and "Tyra," my new favorite talk show. Ever.
(also: I spent nine bucks chasing a Poste Restante letter from Jennifer all over town. And you know what? I found it. I love it when a plan comes together.)
Friday, October 12, 2007
Day 148:
"Are they your wives?"
"Nah..."
"I have FOUR wives."
"That's a lot of wives. Are they pretty?"
"No, not any more."
"Oh"
"My father had SEVEN wives."
Is that even allowed?
I spent another day at Petra, gawking at some tombs, monuments and the like. Again, all carved into the cliff side of a hidden and impossibly striking valley. Well... I don't even know if valley is the right word... some of the sight resembles the Grand Canyon, some of it is just a stretch of land hemmed in by rocky hills and mountains.
I'm no doctor, folks.
"Are they your wives?"
"Nah..."
"I have FOUR wives."
"That's a lot of wives. Are they pretty?"
"No, not any more."
"Oh"
"My father had SEVEN wives."
Is that even allowed?
I spent another day at Petra, gawking at some tombs, monuments and the like. Again, all carved into the cliff side of a hidden and impossibly striking valley. Well... I don't even know if valley is the right word... some of the sight resembles the Grand Canyon, some of it is just a stretch of land hemmed in by rocky hills and mountains.
I'm no doctor, folks.
Day 147:
D asked me a while ago if I am awestruck when seeing the "wonders of the world..." if I am bowled over.
Sometimes, I said. Not at the Great Wall - it's overly reconstructed and fake. Not really at the Taj Mahal - it's just not that interesting. A little bit, maybe, at the Potala in Lhasa. The natural wonders of the world, generally, are what do it for me... the occasion of staring into the Nile, and up at the peak of Mount Everest are the events that have struck me sideways. Likewise, laying in the sand dunes of the Gobi counting shooting stars by the dozens left me senseless for a week.
I'm at Petra now. It impresses as both a natural and man made wonder. Carved into the sides of a hidden valley are dozens of temples, tombs, palaces... and even simple storerooms and stables. All of it is more than two thousand years old.
It's all stunning. The approach to the sight - a 1.2 kilometer defile - is a sort of canyon, with impossibly high sides, incredibly far from the sky above is incredible. It's like walking through the grand canyon, perhaps, with the expectation that something BETTER is to come. And something even cooler does arrive... at its end, the canyon deposits visitors at the steps of the Al-Khazneh, an impressive facade carved, like everything else here out of the pink sandstone of the cliff side (and yeah, you might recognize the sight from that Indiana Jones movie that was filmed here).
And, well, pictures are necessary in order to describe the rest of Petra. There is the Al-Khazneh... and it IS incredible, and then there are fifty more sights just like it down the road: a 7000 seat theatre, the "Great Temple," and most impressive of all, "Al-Dier" - a massive monastery some 50 feet high into the cliff. Everything is so MASSIVE, indeed.
Anyways. Got up nice and early and took a minibus to get here. Arrived around eleven am. The town surrounding Petra is called Wadi Musa. I found a clean and quiet little hotel without too much difficulty and negotiated a fair price. I'm going to spend tomorrow making a second visit to Petra. I'll leave here the day after tomorrow... I hope to visit a couple of crusader castles to the north. I've decided that there will be no DAWDLING in Jordan.
D asked me a while ago if I am awestruck when seeing the "wonders of the world..." if I am bowled over.
Sometimes, I said. Not at the Great Wall - it's overly reconstructed and fake. Not really at the Taj Mahal - it's just not that interesting. A little bit, maybe, at the Potala in Lhasa. The natural wonders of the world, generally, are what do it for me... the occasion of staring into the Nile, and up at the peak of Mount Everest are the events that have struck me sideways. Likewise, laying in the sand dunes of the Gobi counting shooting stars by the dozens left me senseless for a week.
I'm at Petra now. It impresses as both a natural and man made wonder. Carved into the sides of a hidden valley are dozens of temples, tombs, palaces... and even simple storerooms and stables. All of it is more than two thousand years old.
It's all stunning. The approach to the sight - a 1.2 kilometer defile - is a sort of canyon, with impossibly high sides, incredibly far from the sky above is incredible. It's like walking through the grand canyon, perhaps, with the expectation that something BETTER is to come. And something even cooler does arrive... at its end, the canyon deposits visitors at the steps of the Al-Khazneh, an impressive facade carved, like everything else here out of the pink sandstone of the cliff side (and yeah, you might recognize the sight from that Indiana Jones movie that was filmed here).
And, well, pictures are necessary in order to describe the rest of Petra. There is the Al-Khazneh... and it IS incredible, and then there are fifty more sights just like it down the road: a 7000 seat theatre, the "Great Temple," and most impressive of all, "Al-Dier" - a massive monastery some 50 feet high into the cliff. Everything is so MASSIVE, indeed.
Anyways. Got up nice and early and took a minibus to get here. Arrived around eleven am. The town surrounding Petra is called Wadi Musa. I found a clean and quiet little hotel without too much difficulty and negotiated a fair price. I'm going to spend tomorrow making a second visit to Petra. I'll leave here the day after tomorrow... I hope to visit a couple of crusader castles to the north. I've decided that there will be no DAWDLING in Jordan.
Day 146:
I dig Jordan!
Though I paid extra to get on the "fast" ferry to Jordan, going was slow last night. I think I finally made my way through customs on the Jordanian side around seven pm... about five hours late.
But no worries: Jordan is quite nice. It's fairly more developed that Egypt, which makes it cleaner, and more hassle-free. Things are a bit more expensive here, however.
I'm in the city of Aqaba, which is Jordan's only port town (check your atlas, yo). I think that Lawrence of Arabia spent some time here back in the day. It's a quaint town, with only a token few sights for the tourists. I, of course, visited every last one of 'em. First up with the "Ayola" (??) ruins, an archaeological excavation of some old city buildings and temple ruins. That was such a neat "roadside attraction," not much to see - just the outlines of some old walls, and a camel tethered to an explanatory sign - but the roughly two acre sight has a little path that one is supposed to follow, complete with signs that provides a sort of commentary. I found all of it so "small town" and so damn cute.
Next up was Aqaba Castle. Little more than a ruin now, the sight does have some neat history behind it. Originally a crusader castle, it was one of the southern most fortifications that the crusaders built. Eventually abandoned by the crusaders when they were chased out of the regions, it was built up again by the Mamaluks, who held power in the middle east in the post-crusader period. The castle stood for some centuries after that, eventually being destroyed by allied shelling in the first world war. Now restored (a little bit) a Hashemite (The Jordanian royal family) coat of arms adorns it's main entrance.
Nice little history, that. Empires come and go. Castles remain, it seems.
Beside the castle is a small community museum. Like the ruins, it is very quaint and cute. Adorably, so of course... someone is trying really hard to make something interesting with very few resources. The museum reminds me a bit of the Dartmouth Heritage Museum back home, actually; inconsequential, but appreciated nonetheless.
Interestingly, some of the archaeological exhibits at the museum were created by people from the University of Victoria - there has been a Canadian dig north of the city ongoing since the 1980s.
I spoke to my father on the telephone today. We spoke about how nice it is to visit seemingly "inconsequential" cities... places like, say, Saskatoon. I referenced all of those silly cities I spent time at in "Chinese China" between Xi'an and Xinjiang. It's those places that have a real "sense of nostalgia" to them. Though not of consequence, they are places that are very important to the people that live in them. And that makes all the difference.
I dig Jordan!
Though I paid extra to get on the "fast" ferry to Jordan, going was slow last night. I think I finally made my way through customs on the Jordanian side around seven pm... about five hours late.
But no worries: Jordan is quite nice. It's fairly more developed that Egypt, which makes it cleaner, and more hassle-free. Things are a bit more expensive here, however.
I'm in the city of Aqaba, which is Jordan's only port town (check your atlas, yo). I think that Lawrence of Arabia spent some time here back in the day. It's a quaint town, with only a token few sights for the tourists. I, of course, visited every last one of 'em. First up with the "Ayola" (??) ruins, an archaeological excavation of some old city buildings and temple ruins. That was such a neat "roadside attraction," not much to see - just the outlines of some old walls, and a camel tethered to an explanatory sign - but the roughly two acre sight has a little path that one is supposed to follow, complete with signs that provides a sort of commentary. I found all of it so "small town" and so damn cute.
Next up was Aqaba Castle. Little more than a ruin now, the sight does have some neat history behind it. Originally a crusader castle, it was one of the southern most fortifications that the crusaders built. Eventually abandoned by the crusaders when they were chased out of the regions, it was built up again by the Mamaluks, who held power in the middle east in the post-crusader period. The castle stood for some centuries after that, eventually being destroyed by allied shelling in the first world war. Now restored (a little bit) a Hashemite (The Jordanian royal family) coat of arms adorns it's main entrance.
Nice little history, that. Empires come and go. Castles remain, it seems.
Beside the castle is a small community museum. Like the ruins, it is very quaint and cute. Adorably, so of course... someone is trying really hard to make something interesting with very few resources. The museum reminds me a bit of the Dartmouth Heritage Museum back home, actually; inconsequential, but appreciated nonetheless.
Interestingly, some of the archaeological exhibits at the museum were created by people from the University of Victoria - there has been a Canadian dig north of the city ongoing since the 1980s.
I spoke to my father on the telephone today. We spoke about how nice it is to visit seemingly "inconsequential" cities... places like, say, Saskatoon. I referenced all of those silly cities I spent time at in "Chinese China" between Xi'an and Xinjiang. It's those places that have a real "sense of nostalgia" to them. Though not of consequence, they are places that are very important to the people that live in them. And that makes all the difference.
Day 145:
Sometimes my Lonely Planet hits on the perfect word. Case in point: it describes the departure procedures at the Nuweiba port as "Shambolic." A perfect word! Damn it, but I think that the greatest accomplishment of the western world is our development of the concept of "lining up." Her in Egypt, as in EVERY OTHER COUNTRY I have visited so far, no one possesses any queuing mentality, but rather a mentality of pushing, yelling, shoving and butting ahead whenever possible. Eeek.
I'm on the boat now. We haven't yet departed. I'm not really sure why. I think that I have inadvertently sat down in the "women and children" section. Whoops. But anyways: the voyage to Jordan should only take an hour.
There is a nice restaurant in Nuweiba called "Dr. Sheesh Kebab." Nice food and nice staff is found there. Everyone should check it out. The place I slept at - "Soft Beach" - is decent enough, but like I said last time the ownership sends bad vibes towards people that don't spend much time at the in-house restaurant.
I tried to write a letter on the beach, but the words didn't come. The letter got away from me, so I threw it into the sea.
Sometimes my Lonely Planet hits on the perfect word. Case in point: it describes the departure procedures at the Nuweiba port as "Shambolic." A perfect word! Damn it, but I think that the greatest accomplishment of the western world is our development of the concept of "lining up." Her in Egypt, as in EVERY OTHER COUNTRY I have visited so far, no one possesses any queuing mentality, but rather a mentality of pushing, yelling, shoving and butting ahead whenever possible. Eeek.
I'm on the boat now. We haven't yet departed. I'm not really sure why. I think that I have inadvertently sat down in the "women and children" section. Whoops. But anyways: the voyage to Jordan should only take an hour.
There is a nice restaurant in Nuweiba called "Dr. Sheesh Kebab." Nice food and nice staff is found there. Everyone should check it out. The place I slept at - "Soft Beach" - is decent enough, but like I said last time the ownership sends bad vibes towards people that don't spend much time at the in-house restaurant.
I tried to write a letter on the beach, but the words didn't come. The letter got away from me, so I threw it into the sea.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Day 143, 144
People came after me, now they have left. I've been here too long. Every day I stagger around the beachfront. I walk very, very slowly. If I squint, I can see Saudi Arabia across the sea. The staff of the place that rents the huts is angry with me because I don't spent any money at their restaurant.
Going to leave tomorrow for sure.
Ramadan started today. I've been careful to show some cultural sensitivity by not eating in public places. While I was busy being sensitive, though, I spotted a big Russian guy sitting in the Internet place holding a Carlsburg in either hand, with a cigarette in his mouth.
Rock, 'bro.
I've read an entire Michael Chrieton novel. Time to leave the beach.
People came after me, now they have left. I've been here too long. Every day I stagger around the beachfront. I walk very, very slowly. If I squint, I can see Saudi Arabia across the sea. The staff of the place that rents the huts is angry with me because I don't spent any money at their restaurant.
Going to leave tomorrow for sure.
Ramadan started today. I've been careful to show some cultural sensitivity by not eating in public places. While I was busy being sensitive, though, I spotted a big Russian guy sitting in the Internet place holding a Carlsburg in either hand, with a cigarette in his mouth.
Rock, 'bro.
I've read an entire Michael Chrieton novel. Time to leave the beach.
Day 141, 142
Ah, Nuweiba. As I wrote last time, Dahab didn't do it for me. Too crowded, too busy. Too urgent.
But Nuweiba is nice. It's got a lot of great beachfront, and not too many visitors. I think that this place must have seen a lot of tourist traffic in the past; near my beach hut there is a strange promenade of unoccupied hotels and shuttered restaurants, along with a few touts trying to move some very dusty merchandise. Where did all the tourists go? I've been told that this place was very popular with Israeli vacationers, and that they stopped coming when some bombs went off in the region a few years ago. I think there was one at Dahab, and one at Taba.
Sort of a ghost town for the time being.
So, yeah. I'm not much of an "on the beach" sort of guy, but I'm enjoying myself regardless. I've procured a little hut, and I spent each day here walking up and down the old promenade and up and down the beach. A few times each day I wander fifteen minutes down the road into town, looking for food and Internet connections.
Meanwhile, the skin on my arms and legs has become quite dark. I could be a local. My belly, though, is pink and irritated. Exposed to the sun for the first time in a millenia, it's having some trouble coping.
Everything seems to have ground to (another) halt. It's nice to linger here. The ferry to Jordan leaves from a port about eight kilometers from here and I expect to be on it soon enough - perhaps in a day or two.
Ramadan begins in a few days. Traveling through the Muslim world during that month ought to be a real treat. Perhaps strange... perhaps a little bit trying.
Ah, Nuweiba. As I wrote last time, Dahab didn't do it for me. Too crowded, too busy. Too urgent.
But Nuweiba is nice. It's got a lot of great beachfront, and not too many visitors. I think that this place must have seen a lot of tourist traffic in the past; near my beach hut there is a strange promenade of unoccupied hotels and shuttered restaurants, along with a few touts trying to move some very dusty merchandise. Where did all the tourists go? I've been told that this place was very popular with Israeli vacationers, and that they stopped coming when some bombs went off in the region a few years ago. I think there was one at Dahab, and one at Taba.
Sort of a ghost town for the time being.
So, yeah. I'm not much of an "on the beach" sort of guy, but I'm enjoying myself regardless. I've procured a little hut, and I spent each day here walking up and down the old promenade and up and down the beach. A few times each day I wander fifteen minutes down the road into town, looking for food and Internet connections.
Meanwhile, the skin on my arms and legs has become quite dark. I could be a local. My belly, though, is pink and irritated. Exposed to the sun for the first time in a millenia, it's having some trouble coping.
Everything seems to have ground to (another) halt. It's nice to linger here. The ferry to Jordan leaves from a port about eight kilometers from here and I expect to be on it soon enough - perhaps in a day or two.
Ramadan begins in a few days. Traveling through the Muslim world during that month ought to be a real treat. Perhaps strange... perhaps a little bit trying.
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