Glutton for punishment

Akko is a great little town. I’m awoken to the sounds of prayer coming from the mosque’s PA system. It’s a lot more soothing than the blaring of sirens and really for the first time, I feel a long way from the conflict. As it’s a Saturday, ie Shabat (sabbath), a huge number of Jewish visitors are flocking to a predominantly Arab town. The souk (market) is a lively affair, and the whole town leaves me marvelling at the camaraderie and spirit that exist between the people here. They all seem to know each very well and as a result it’s a warm, friendly place.  

The drive eastward to Tiberias and the Sea of Galilee is a scenic one. It’s a less arid region with small towns of mostly cubular (is that a word?...it is now), sandstone-coloured buildings clinging to the edges of the hills and sprawling in to the valleys below. The sea itself is really a small lake by Canadian standards, but it’s a picturesque setting with mountains rising up above on all sides.

Later, I learn of serious unrest in Egypt, particularly Cairo. Fantastic news, as I’ll be there in a few days. I’ve already cancelled plans of climbing Mount Sinai and spending a night in a bedouin camp, as it’s deemed too dangerous to travel in that region presently, so I really hope the situation doesn’t worsen.

An early start with a good breakfast (the food in Israel hasn’t been the best so far) and a stroll along the lakefront, are followed by a bus trip to the border with Jordan. I approach the border patrol only to realise that my passport is still in the safe at the hotel an hour’s drive away. Much frustration ensues. Two hours later I’m back at the same place with one important difference. 

The process at the border is shambolic at best and I emerge two hours later squinting in to the Jordanian sun. During all the waiting around I meet Nick, a young chap from England who has just spent 6 months in the West Bank, living behind the wall that separates the occupied territory from Israel. He tells me some fairly gruesome stories of Israeli military brutality against the Palestinians with whom he was living. Tales of torture and imprisonment of children as young as 8 years old are not easy to hear without having utter contempt for the aggression employed by the Israeli forces. Nick himself was tear-gassed the day before. His description of the feeling being akin to chopping a really strong onion lightened the mood a little.

We share a cab to Amman, the capital, and he continues on to the airport. He’s clearly excited to see his girlfriend for the first time in half a year. She happens to be from Barrie, Ontario. Big planet, small world.

At last, Petra. Shockingly early start and my excitement-induced insomnia has struck again. At least I won’t miss the 6.15am bus. Jordan’s most visited tourist destination and one of the modern Seven Wonders of the World, is located in a mountainous, arid region 3 hours south of the capital. The small town of Wadi Musa (Valley of Moses) buzzes with predominantly tourist-related activity. I’m glad to be here during the low season as the crowds are not insignificant.

Stunning, magnificent, awe-inspiring are grossly inadequate terms to describe Petra. Walking through The Siq is my favourite part of the experience and when it opens up to reveal the great Treasury it really does take my breath away. I make it as far as the recently-discovered Temple and I’m ready to call it a day. This is when the fun begins.

I stop at Ibraheim’s Coffee Shop and start chatting with a few of the Bedouin locals. They are extremely engaging, with a wicked sense of humour. I’m invited to drink tea with them, an important part of being truly welcomed in Bedouin culture, and I’m honoured to. This is why I love travelling so much, as I learn how the Jordanian Government entrust the Bedouin people with maintaining the essence of Petra, as opposed to the supposedly more-refined Musa-Wadians, who care more about lining their pockets with the tourist dollar. Many of the Bedouin live in caves within the City itself and have done so for many generations. Somewhat surprisingly most of them are married to Western women, including my new pal Ahmood, who will soon be living in his cave with his wife, previously from an affluent suburb of Montreal.

Ahmood takes me to the Bedouin village, a side of Petra that not many see. As the sun sets, the temperature drops sharply and my Bedouin buddy decides that the best way to keep warm is by drinking whiskey. The story of the rest of the night is best told in person.

After a groggy start I make my way back down to Petra. I can see why people move here from all corners of the World, The Siq has the ability to enchant on a daily basis. I run into my friends and they decide it’s time for me to take my first donkey ride all the way to the Monastery, arguably Petra’s most recognisable building. It’s an interesting journey, as my donkey seems to have a complete inability to travel in a straight line, which is particularly disconcerting when we’re climbing narrow, steep stairways with drops of several hundred feet on either side. I christen him Snake Donkey and decide to trek back on foot as walking down stairs is not Snake’s forte. I’m sorry to bid my friends farewell, they’ve really helped me understand the life of the Bedouin and the charms of Petra. I vow to go back, and some day I will, with a real camera.

So you came back for more?

Jerusalem - Felt suitably reassured when a couple of mean-looking Israeli soldiers complete with semi-automatic shotguns get on the bus with me for the one hour journey to the World’s holiest city.

I head straight to the old part of town which is split into quarters, the Armenian, Christian, Muslim and Jewish areas all have a distinct flavour, but the latter two really stand out for me, in fact I’m not sure if I saw anyone in the Armenian section at all. That’s in stark contrast to the Muslim section which is an all-out assault on the senses (perhaps not the best choice of phrase given the circumstances), with heavy aromas of coffee, spice and smoke filling the air, thousands of vendors gesticulating wildly in between puffs on the sheesha, kids running about with carefree abandon, honestly it’s a madhouse, then 7pm rolls around and it’s as if none of it happened, and has instead all been replaced by piles of garbage.

Highlights include visiting the Room of the Last Supper and taking a tour under the Western/Wailing Wall. The list of ‘attractions’ is almost too long to list, which is something I’d no doubt gleefully do if there was an ounce of religiosity in me. 

As an atheist, I’m clearly not taking it in as much as the majority, I simply don't have the emotional link, but it is nevertheless an interesting experience in viewing the faith of others and how they relate to their beliefs and the supposed sources of them. Receiving a disbelieving look from a believer when you tell them that you don't believe is unbelievably.....ok I'll stop.

Arabic coffee and phenomenal shwarma stand out as the culinary highlights.

Day 6 - Mount of Olives/Bethlehem/Massada/Jericho

Today was an interesting, but quite frustrating day too. Started well with a hike up to the Mount of Olives, which offers spectacular views of Jerusalem, particularly the Old City and Temple Mount.

Followed this up by travelling to Bethlehem, where history’s most famous hippie was born. I didn’t bring gold, frankincense or myrrh, but a camera with suddenly no battery life and a phone which won’t take photos without fog appearing on the screen. Jesus bloody Christ.

Things got worse as my new buddy, Eddy and I travelled an hour and a half in his cab to Massada, a stunning place out in the desert by the Dead Sea. The idea was to take the cable car to the top, but of course it was closed for maintenance today and we didn’t have enough time before nightfall to do the two hour trek to the top.

Another day - Back in Tel Aviv and the day’s main news was that of the bus bombing downtown. The populace is shitting themselves big time. The general consensus is that a ground offensive is required. This blog is not meant to be political, but it’s hard to remain Switzerland with all this nonsense in the air.

Switching gears, I indulged in my favourite sort of travel today, ie getting hopelessly lost in a foreign place. Neve Tsedek, an artsy, undergoing-the-process-of gentrification kind of place, failed to deliver, especially on the food front, and when I was asked the obligatory, “How’s everything”, I opted for a Gordon Ramsey-esque response. Five days  in a row with falafel will do that to a person. Rescued my afternoon by strolling over to Jaffa, on the south side of the city, and boy was I impressed. The old town is something to behold. Stunning architecture, beautiful vistas, this place has it all, including the obligatory hordes of tourists, as well at least a dozen wedding shoots. Again I wondered in to the unknown and stumbled upon the flea market area, whose name does it little justice. Artists studios sitting besides uber-cool restaurants mixed in with furniture and craft stores, this little corner of Jaffa has something for everyone. I proceeded to install myself at one of the chronically cool bars and.....don’t really remember the rest ;)

And on the 7th Day - I too relaxed, mostly. Got into an interesting conversation with an Aussie-Jewish girl at the real Moon Sushi (not much better than the first, we really are spoilt for amazing food in Toronto). Walked endlessly, something I’m committing to do a lot more of at home. Attempted to go to an art museum, but all the masterpieces were on lockdown, so much for culture. 

I did find the old train station, which has been converted in to an array of beautiful boutiques and restaurants, complete with authentic railroad tracks and carriages. I love it when city planners can blend the old with the new so stylishly.

Cut the night short as a massive thunderstorm rolled in, woken in the night several times by the loudest thunder I’ve ever heard, at least that’s what I hope it was and not a broken ceasefire.

Into the second week - I’m on the road. Drive up to Nazareth, and what a letdown, I’m sure JC wouldn’t be happy of what’s become of his hometown. I will cut the carpenter some slack though, it’s not an easy town to navigate, so many hills, and incredibly confusing with all the churches. I got lost, which isn’t nearly as much fun in a car, and decided to pack in looking for el casa de jesus and head to Akko, a 5,000 year old town sitting a few miles north of Haifa, Israel’s third largest city, and officially designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site (the old town is at least). Have a memorable fish and chips for dinner and meet Walid, by far the most interesting and social hotel/hostel owner I’ve encountered on the trip so far. He tells me of days gone by when he’d run 15km and smoke 40 cigarettes a day, though now he’s strictly a sheesha guy and he’s not shy about sharing.

My Middle East (Mis)Adventure......Part One

Day minus 1: Israel fire a missile in to the Gaza Strip, killing the leader of Hamas....nice timing.

Night 0: A bit of excitement, a small dose of nervousness and a sprinkling of fear all mix together causing me to lie in bed for 8 hours without sleeping a minute.

Day 1: 7am start, no sleep, EasyJet flight, not a good combo. Sail through the notoriously tough Ben Gurion Airport, but a little disconcerted to hear that the bomb siren went off in Tel Aviv for the first time in 20+yrs only a couple of hours before I arrived. Iron Dome sounds like a brand of condoms, but it’s actually Israel’s new missile defence system, I hope it works.

Night 1: Again, no sleep....this Jetsomnia is getting ridiculous....I’m going to resemble a one-man zombie march later

Day 2: We are officially under attack, bomb sirens blared twice today, I even heard my first (and hopefully last) missile.....sounded a bit like a firework, which thankfully seems to be about the level of technology that Hamas are hurling at Israel. I’m glad I’m not further south, as even 40km away missiles are landing and causing damage. 

Most people can’t believe I’m here, and most of them seem to be fed up with the violence, they want to escape to a better more peaceful world. However, there is a strong belief in the need to protect themselves from terrorism, and many have adopted a siege mentality, us against the rest of the world.....their view is that there is considerable anti-Israel bias and sympathy for Hamas, who garner this support by placing women and children in front of their soldiers, whereas in Israel the soldiers are the front line. They have a point.

Later on head out for a bite and after meeting a few locals, I really start questioning my judgement in staying in Israel. Meeting another local a couple of hours later, restores my confidence and I decide to stay.

And what better way to celebrate than to go to a club and meet an old friend from London, Anthony Middleton, one half of Audiofly, who happens by happy coincidence to be DJing in Tel Aviv that night. We chat for a while pre-performance and it's great to re-connect with an old mate, especially one with such interesting tales to tell. He goes on at 2am and for the first time I get to see first-hand from inside the booth what being an International DJ is all about. He finishes a couple of hours later and I’ve spent virtually the entire time standing right next to him trying not to be noticed too much. Anthony's incredibly focussed on what he's doing and really looks the part. Before I know it we’re in a cab with the promoter and another DJ heading to an after-after hours. Some things never change.

Day 3: Felt wretched all day from the 18 whiskey and cokes imbibed the previous night. Go on a short walk, eat and read. That’s it, my first (and last) wasted day.

Day 4: I'm not quite sure exactly what day it is, fairly sure it's Sunday. I should mention that there have been bomb sirens going off every day. At breakfast another goes off and I squint up to see plumes of smoke that signify the missile has been successfully intercepted mid-air. A lady comments that the incoming missiles don't seem very big, but it's quickly pointed out to her that close-up they are plenty big and destructive.

Walked around the city all day and made a few observations. They are certainly not short of hair stylists here, and as a conservative estimate I'd say roughly one in three people here own a cat, they're everywhere. 

My overall impressions of Tel Aviv are positive though, it’s got a very European feel to it, you can even get beer out of a vending machine, clearly a significant cultural milestone! Everyone I've encountered is at the very least courteous, not the reputation that Israelis are usually laden with. Maybe there's a more open attitude toward others, given the fact that everyone is equally defenceless at this time?

Some beach time, a spot of shopping and this blog round the day off nicely.