In week two, things started to settle down. I’d done most of what I was meant to for uni, and had found some friends to hang around with. It was some time late during this second week that my roommate (yes, roommate) arrived. I was quite excited about this, and still am. It’s great living with a Czech person, because it means that I can actually practice my Czech without being limited to ‘hello’, ‘how much is this’ and ‘my name is Nick’. It’s also quite good because, as I forget if I’ve mentioned, the people in the office of our dorm don’t speak English. None. The one who does is over in the MAIN office, which is open some days, 9-5. The result: a very grateful Nick that when the proverbial hits the fan and my little translation dictionary isn’t holding up, there’s somebody to put out the fires. I swear it was only through his help that I got to wash my clothes. I think I had been insulting someone’s mother before that.
Prague is definitely a beautiful city. However, I haven’t really seen that many of the touristy sites. Charles Bridge was noteworthy of course, but packed with people from 8am – 10pm. Prague Castle looks amazing but, like so many other places, I haven’t yet been inside. There is also a Salvador Dali (my favourite artist) exhibition on Old Town Square, which I noticed on my first day but still haven’t been to. But I’ve rationalised all of this. It seems there will soon be an almost constant stream of Australian friends and family, including Emily, coming through Prague over the next few months. So, I can tell myself that it’s not because I’m lazy, but that I’m waiting to see it with my old friends. Good excuse, huh?
But, consistent with the phrase that you never do the things in your own backyard first, I have been on a couple of other trips. Two weeks ago, a group of friends and I ventured off to Berlin for the weekend. This heightened my envy of Europeans. To get to Berlin, ground zero of 20th century political struggles, was a mere 5 hour bus ride. And that was considered a slow bus. A five hour bus ride from Brisbane would take you to somewhere near Tenterfield. Now, I’m not casting any aspersions on Tenterfield, but let’s just say I remain jealous of Europeans.
Berlin was a strange city. Given that 90% of it was destroyed in WW2, you raise your eyebrow at its ‘old’ buildings, though they have been fantastically rebuilt. It also has a much different feel to Brisbane or, for that matter, Prague. In a city of 3.5 million people, there are only a handful of skyscrapers. The streets are wide, the demeanour calm and the city sprawling. It was unusual to be in a city with no discernable centre, and it wasn’t until we spent a few hours wandering on foot that we started to get a bit of a feel for the place. It seemed the sort of city that grows on you. That said, we saw some amazing things. To be at the Berlin Wall and Checkpoint Charlie, standing atop the Reichstag or reflecting at the Holocaust Memorial stirs strange emotions. All in all, a thoroughly enjoyable long weekend, but even German efficiency has nothing on the Prague public transport system.
The second trip was markedly different. Tucked away in the very south of the Czech Republic is Cesky Krumlov. It will forever have a place in my memory as the first place I saw it snowing. It was worth the frostbite. The town is dominated by a huge castle built on a cliff. Walking around it was beautiful. Every street was cobbled, the houses must all be over two centuries old, and its food was sensational. While not going in for the bear paw, I availed myself of the venison, rabbit and pheasant. Delicious. The photo attached gives some indication of the vibe of the place.
Which just about brings us up to today. Uni’s starting to take up some time, and I’m eagerly anticipating friends staring to trickle in soon. This weekend I’m going to Budapest (in Hungary), so there will be more to report back on shortly. I’ve probably forgotten something important, but I have no doubt that someone will point out what it is.
Nashledanou!
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Thursday, November 8, 2007
I love a wind/rain/snow/history-swept country...
I can’t believe it’s been five weeks.
Five weeks since I arrived in Prague, yet it feels like only two. And now I’m sitting down to write this first blog and I don’t know where to start. So, without any better method, let’s go with chronology.
The first week was a mess. Really. I’d thought that the Middle East had been a bit lacking in the organisation department, but I was to experience worse. Apparently not everything Soviet has yet faded from everyday life (or, at least, the everyday life of someone travelling). Having to sort yourself out for university only adds to the chaos. The first day was a day of extremes. I’d arrived in Prague, blue-eyed and bushy-tailed and was really excited. I met up with my ‘tandem’, a Czech student who was lucky enough to have to show me around the place and get me oriented (Jan/John). Apparently he had volunteered. Fool. But we hit it off, which made the waiting that was to come slightly more bearable.
Walking through the first rain I had seen for 3 months (Brisbane drought + Middle East), I couldn’t stop smiling. Surrounding me were ancient buildings, cathedrals, churches, cobbled streets and, above all, rain! I got used to the rain part pretty quick though. Yet, with a shopping list of things to do before uni started in two days I had my work cut out for me. First stop: getting a student card. Three hours later, with student card in hand, to the dorms to find me somewhere to sleep for the night. By this stage it was 6pm, and the office was meant to have closed at 5. It was only through an act of god that the only English speaking person in the office had a massive love of ACDC and, being Australian, would thus go to the ends of the earth for me. Somehow I secured a room that night, all thanks to Aussie rock.
But the day wasn’t over, oh no. I was immediately taught what I’ve come to realise are the two most important words in the Czech language: pivo prosim. Armed with this phrase, Jan and I headed to the nearest place it would be most useful. Finding one attached to my college, we entered the fray and began my long spiral into, among other things, the Czech language. ‘Pivo prosim!’ I exclaimed. They had already guessed what I had wanted, and barely had the words left my lips than they were sitting on the counter in front of me. Two glistening, amber columns sent from god themselves. Czech beer is god’s beer, and I had two just waiting in front of me. Might I also add these important considerations. Beer here is around 4% and comes in half litres. The next consideration is that if you buy it in the supermarket, it will cost around 9 krona. If you return the bottle, you will get three krona back. And let’s assume that the Aussie dollar is currently pegging around 17 ½ krona. So if I buy 1 ½ litres of alcohol, at 9 krona each, and return the bottles… those of you who can do the maths deserve a pivo.
Jan and I made it out of there. How, when or why, I am none the wiser. And, in retrospect, it probably didn’t make the next day any better. This was the first of three days of the immigration police, trying to get a visa or register my address or just something. Something that would make the (one, two…) cumulative 17 hours I spent in that god forsaken police office all worth it. The third try, I was rewarded by my efforts by being told that, no, I couldn’t have a student visa, but yes, if I really wanted to I could register my address with them. Oh, and by the way, you have 90 days stay visa-free, just if anyone asks you, don’t mention you’re studying here. Done.
Somewhere in this time, I also got around navigating my enrolment in three different faculties, with three different systems (one online in two places, one on paper in two places, one with paper and one online), filled in various other forms, got my photocopy card, got my internet account and my library thing and could almost have time to go to class. Which takes me to the end of week one. But there was always time for pivo. Always. And the Czechs, well, the Czechs understand.
My roommate (yes, roommate, not flatmate) didn’t arrive until some time in week two, but he’s a really cool Czech guy. Unfortunately he goes home for the weekends, so I only see him for 3-4 days per week. But he’s been a great help with trying to navigate my way around the painful Czech language. I mean really, who needs 7 different cases? Nominative, accusative, dative, locative…
So we have reached the end of week one. I don’t want to try and recount more here, because if the posts get too long, you will probably get bored reading them. So some time in the next few days, I will write another one which should hopefully bring us up to date. Hope all is well in whatever country people are reading this in, including those who plan on visiting me here on their way through.
I think I should also mention that the Czech Republic is an amazing place. It only just strikes me that from my description it sounds quite painful. But even then it was fun, and gets a whole lot better. But the pivo? Well, the pivo can’t get any better.
Five weeks since I arrived in Prague, yet it feels like only two. And now I’m sitting down to write this first blog and I don’t know where to start. So, without any better method, let’s go with chronology.
The first week was a mess. Really. I’d thought that the Middle East had been a bit lacking in the organisation department, but I was to experience worse. Apparently not everything Soviet has yet faded from everyday life (or, at least, the everyday life of someone travelling). Having to sort yourself out for university only adds to the chaos. The first day was a day of extremes. I’d arrived in Prague, blue-eyed and bushy-tailed and was really excited. I met up with my ‘tandem’, a Czech student who was lucky enough to have to show me around the place and get me oriented (Jan/John). Apparently he had volunteered. Fool. But we hit it off, which made the waiting that was to come slightly more bearable.
Walking through the first rain I had seen for 3 months (Brisbane drought + Middle East), I couldn’t stop smiling. Surrounding me were ancient buildings, cathedrals, churches, cobbled streets and, above all, rain! I got used to the rain part pretty quick though. Yet, with a shopping list of things to do before uni started in two days I had my work cut out for me. First stop: getting a student card. Three hours later, with student card in hand, to the dorms to find me somewhere to sleep for the night. By this stage it was 6pm, and the office was meant to have closed at 5. It was only through an act of god that the only English speaking person in the office had a massive love of ACDC and, being Australian, would thus go to the ends of the earth for me. Somehow I secured a room that night, all thanks to Aussie rock.
But the day wasn’t over, oh no. I was immediately taught what I’ve come to realise are the two most important words in the Czech language: pivo prosim. Armed with this phrase, Jan and I headed to the nearest place it would be most useful. Finding one attached to my college, we entered the fray and began my long spiral into, among other things, the Czech language. ‘Pivo prosim!’ I exclaimed. They had already guessed what I had wanted, and barely had the words left my lips than they were sitting on the counter in front of me. Two glistening, amber columns sent from god themselves. Czech beer is god’s beer, and I had two just waiting in front of me. Might I also add these important considerations. Beer here is around 4% and comes in half litres. The next consideration is that if you buy it in the supermarket, it will cost around 9 krona. If you return the bottle, you will get three krona back. And let’s assume that the Aussie dollar is currently pegging around 17 ½ krona. So if I buy 1 ½ litres of alcohol, at 9 krona each, and return the bottles… those of you who can do the maths deserve a pivo.
Jan and I made it out of there. How, when or why, I am none the wiser. And, in retrospect, it probably didn’t make the next day any better. This was the first of three days of the immigration police, trying to get a visa or register my address or just something. Something that would make the (one, two…) cumulative 17 hours I spent in that god forsaken police office all worth it. The third try, I was rewarded by my efforts by being told that, no, I couldn’t have a student visa, but yes, if I really wanted to I could register my address with them. Oh, and by the way, you have 90 days stay visa-free, just if anyone asks you, don’t mention you’re studying here. Done.
Somewhere in this time, I also got around navigating my enrolment in three different faculties, with three different systems (one online in two places, one on paper in two places, one with paper and one online), filled in various other forms, got my photocopy card, got my internet account and my library thing and could almost have time to go to class. Which takes me to the end of week one. But there was always time for pivo. Always. And the Czechs, well, the Czechs understand.
My roommate (yes, roommate, not flatmate) didn’t arrive until some time in week two, but he’s a really cool Czech guy. Unfortunately he goes home for the weekends, so I only see him for 3-4 days per week. But he’s been a great help with trying to navigate my way around the painful Czech language. I mean really, who needs 7 different cases? Nominative, accusative, dative, locative…
So we have reached the end of week one. I don’t want to try and recount more here, because if the posts get too long, you will probably get bored reading them. So some time in the next few days, I will write another one which should hopefully bring us up to date. Hope all is well in whatever country people are reading this in, including those who plan on visiting me here on their way through.
I think I should also mention that the Czech Republic is an amazing place. It only just strikes me that from my description it sounds quite painful. But even then it was fun, and gets a whole lot better. But the pivo? Well, the pivo can’t get any better.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Journey's End
What’s only been a little over two months feels like a year. The 30+ hour train ride from Istanbul to Vienna gave me a lot of thinking time to reflect on it all. My conclusion was that everyone who can should do a trip through the Middle East. It’s remarkably safe, most of it care-free and most is very cheap. I stand a proponent of the region, or at least the countries I visited.
Vienna, the city of music, was certainly a change from the previous 2 or so months. It seems that the moment you cross the Turkish border the remnants of the Middle East fall away at once, and the journey west moves you along a spectrum from ex-communist deep south increasingly close to stereotypical continental Europe. By the time you arrive in Vienna, you are firmly ensconced in the West, but with a lingering feeling of a restless past. A recent Austrian ruler put it quite succinctly when he said that ‘Austrians anticipate the past with great confidence’. This mood seems to permeate Vienna. A quite confidence radiates from the city; they have the music, they have the culture, they have the history. What do they need to prove themselves for now? In my few days there I saw a number of things, most notable the Schonbrunn Palace, but my favourite part of Vienna was just wandering the streets soaking up the atmosphere. A few other backpackers I spoke to said they ran out of things to do in Vienna after 2 or so days. Evidently they weren’t in it for the museums, music, galleries or relaxation, but they’re right about the lack of ‘sights’ per se. I think the thing that gives Vienna its charm is the sense you get that it was build very slowly over a very long time. Which is true of course. But the lack of sky-scrapers and traffic jams, yet profusion of beautiful historic buildings and peaceful ambiance make it a great place to get your head together for a couple of days.
Schonbrunn Palace has a grandness that sets it apart from the palaces in Turkey. To be fair, some of the detail in the Dolmabahce Palace in Istanbul was more elaborate. However the Schonbrunn has all the things that readers of books like Animalia (yes, the kids’ picture book) would come to expect of a palace. A maze. Rose gardens. A zoo. A glasshouse. The sweeping lawn leading up the hill to the entertainment pavilion comes straight out of a Jane Austin novel, with plenty of secluded side-paths for unexpected encounter… It seems I don’t have the vocabulary to describe palaces, as I’ve had difficulty with this one and those in Istanbul. Suffice to say they’re very shiny and amazing.
Prague has been interesting thus far. I don’t mind bureaucracy, as long as it’s efficient. In Prague, it’s not. And, as I don’t fit in to the European ‘Erasmus’ exchange program, I get left out of a lot of information loops. It doesn’t help that I don’t speak Czech (yet!), nor that the office at my college doesn’t speak English. Or that there was a public holiday on Friday, just as I was still trying to organise my life. The running around has meant that I haven’t yet had time to see any of the sights, including the castle. It’s on my ‘to do’ list, and will probably end up happening in about a month. Luckily, I’m here for 5 or 6. But classes start on Monday, and I’m really looking forward to starting. The other thing I should mention about Prague is the beer. There’s a rumour that the beer in Prague is the best on earth. While I haven’t tried all the beers on earth, I’m prepared to believe it. It’s tasty, comes in half litre serves and is cheap (around $1.25 for a half litre). It’s no wonder that the Czechs drink the most alcohol the world over, and I’m slowly sinking into their habit of having a beer or two over lunch and dinner. It’s probably lucky it’s only for 6 months.
I still haven’t decided whether I will keep doing the blog. If I do, it definitely won’t be as regular as it is now. But, if you’d like to keep it bookmarked and log in every month or so, you might get lucky.
Hoping everyone in Brisbane is well and enjoying what they’re doing, and looking forward to reading any random emails people care to send my way,
Nick.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Istanbul, not Constantinople
The Middle Eastern adventure is over. As I write, I am sitting on a train heading to Belgrade, and on to Vienna. Cutting Turkey short a few days, I am heading to Austria for a brief stop-over before going finally to Prague on the morning of the 25th. What a two months it’s been.
Since my last post, I journeyed over the Dardanelles to Gallipoli and on to Istanbul for the remainder of the Turkey chapter. Gallipoli, I’m pleased to say, was the only time I have taken an organised tour on the trip. The peninsular is far too large to get about by foot, and public transport is non-existent. On the up side, a friend I’d met the day before was going to, and it was good to have someone around my own age/mindset to talk to.
I had wondered for a little while before what effect visiting Gallipoli would have on me. On the one hand, going to ANZAC Cove is the closest thing that most Australians have to the pilgrimage to Mecca. On the other, I’m not really that fond of military history, and hate the extent to which the ‘ANZAC legend’ is force-fed into everyone through school and the mass media. I still can’t decide whether I’m happy or sad that the experience elicited a fair bit of emotion. I don’t think I’ll watch an ANZAC Day ceremony the same again, for one. It was a slightly surreal experience being surrounded by a group of fellow Aussies and Kiwis, sharing some sort of collective identity being elicited by the Turkish guide. A strange thing to be standing somewhere so far from home, yet the place that so many died, and is one of the defining points of our nation.
The sites are interesting in themselves. ANZAC Cove, where 15 000 troops landed on the first day, is only around 600m long (photo). The trenches on the top of the ridge, from where there was essentially no movement in the 8 months of the campaign, were only around 8 metres apart. Go and measure eight metres somewhere. Than get a friend and throw rocks at each other for a bit, pretending they’re grenades. You’ll start to get a sense of just how close eight metres is. We learned of the decisive mistakes of the British commanders (idiots) that could have changed fate, the intentional strategy behind the conflict, and some great stories that were retold in letters from the diggers home. The guide was extremely knowledgeable. One of the defining points of the tour, however, was learning the Turkish side of the story. There’s too much to recount here, but it’s amazing in its own right. Some of the poetry and speeches relating to the battle are also extremely moving, and I’ll see if I can find a way to post them up somewhere.
I can’t decide how I feel about Istanbul, but suffice to say it’s a city with soul. The old quarter especially, Sultanahmet, brims with life, but firmly has its foot in the tourist trap market. Istanbul’s main attractions are, as you would expect, absolutely stunning. To borrow a description, the outside of the Blue Mosque (photo) seemingly tries to emulate the grandeur of the inside of the Aya Sofia, and sit only a few hundred metres apart. The Grand Bazaar, I would was a bit of a let-down. Expecting something like the markets in Islamic Cairo (tiny alleys, overhanging shops, donkeys, spirit!), the Grand Bazaar seems the missing link between Islamic Cairo and a modern shopping mall. Yes, you get to haggle, but it’s done in nice, quite sanitary, tiled and covered surrounds. And you will always get ripped off if you’re a tourist. Just accept that and move on. There are two big palaces in Istanbul: the Topkapı (Topkapa) and the Dolmabahçe (Dolmabahchè) (photo). The former had been the home of Ottoman sultans since the first half of last millennia, and is built and decorated in a purely Ottoman style. The latter was only built in the 1800s, and looks like something straight out of France. It was built in the neo-Classical European style, and has one of the most extraordinary festival halls I’ve ever seen. It rivals some of the best mosques.
There’s plenty, plenty more to say, but no room to say it. I think this will be my second last post about the journey, with the final one being in a few days after Vienna. I haven’t yet decided whether I’ll continue while I’m in Prague.
Hope all is well, and that life is enjoyable for all.
n.b. written 23 September.
Since my last post, I journeyed over the Dardanelles to Gallipoli and on to Istanbul for the remainder of the Turkey chapter. Gallipoli, I’m pleased to say, was the only time I have taken an organised tour on the trip. The peninsular is far too large to get about by foot, and public transport is non-existent. On the up side, a friend I’d met the day before was going to, and it was good to have someone around my own age/mindset to talk to.
I had wondered for a little while before what effect visiting Gallipoli would have on me. On the one hand, going to ANZAC Cove is the closest thing that most Australians have to the pilgrimage to Mecca. On the other, I’m not really that fond of military history, and hate the extent to which the ‘ANZAC legend’ is force-fed into everyone through school and the mass media. I still can’t decide whether I’m happy or sad that the experience elicited a fair bit of emotion. I don’t think I’ll watch an ANZAC Day ceremony the same again, for one. It was a slightly surreal experience being surrounded by a group of fellow Aussies and Kiwis, sharing some sort of collective identity being elicited by the Turkish guide. A strange thing to be standing somewhere so far from home, yet the place that so many died, and is one of the defining points of our nation.
The sites are interesting in themselves. ANZAC Cove, where 15 000 troops landed on the first day, is only around 600m long (photo). The trenches on the top of the ridge, from where there was essentially no movement in the 8 months of the campaign, were only around 8 metres apart. Go and measure eight metres somewhere. Than get a friend and throw rocks at each other for a bit, pretending they’re grenades. You’ll start to get a sense of just how close eight metres is. We learned of the decisive mistakes of the British commanders (idiots) that could have changed fate, the intentional strategy behind the conflict, and some great stories that were retold in letters from the diggers home. The guide was extremely knowledgeable. One of the defining points of the tour, however, was learning the Turkish side of the story. There’s too much to recount here, but it’s amazing in its own right. Some of the poetry and speeches relating to the battle are also extremely moving, and I’ll see if I can find a way to post them up somewhere.
I can’t decide how I feel about Istanbul, but suffice to say it’s a city with soul. The old quarter especially, Sultanahmet, brims with life, but firmly has its foot in the tourist trap market. Istanbul’s main attractions are, as you would expect, absolutely stunning. To borrow a description, the outside of the Blue Mosque (photo) seemingly tries to emulate the grandeur of the inside of the Aya Sofia, and sit only a few hundred metres apart. The Grand Bazaar, I would was a bit of a let-down. Expecting something like the markets in Islamic Cairo (tiny alleys, overhanging shops, donkeys, spirit!), the Grand Bazaar seems the missing link between Islamic Cairo and a modern shopping mall. Yes, you get to haggle, but it’s done in nice, quite sanitary, tiled and covered surrounds. And you will always get ripped off if you’re a tourist. Just accept that and move on. There are two big palaces in Istanbul: the Topkapı (Topkapa) and the Dolmabahçe (Dolmabahchè) (photo). The former had been the home of Ottoman sultans since the first half of last millennia, and is built and decorated in a purely Ottoman style. The latter was only built in the 1800s, and looks like something straight out of France. It was built in the neo-Classical European style, and has one of the most extraordinary festival halls I’ve ever seen. It rivals some of the best mosques.
There’s plenty, plenty more to say, but no room to say it. I think this will be my second last post about the journey, with the final one being in a few days after Vienna. I haven’t yet decided whether I’ll continue while I’m in Prague.
Hope all is well, and that life is enjoyable for all.
n.b. written 23 September.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
Photos, diabetes, and other things Nick wıll take from Turkey.
The great benefit of travelling by your tastebuds is that it doesn’t preclude you seeing the sights as well. As such, while I still can’t really communicate with anyone very much, my times in Turkey have been packed full of sights, adventure, and puddings.
Turkey has a few big touristy spots; the fairy chimneys in Goreme, Istanbul, Ephasus. But one that wasn’t quite what I was expecting was Pamukkale. At Pamukkale, there is a spring. From this spring flows water that is packed full of minerals, but mostly calcium. The water then flows down the side of a mountain. As it does so it cools, depositing the calcium in ridges along the side of the cliff. The result is the side of a cliff cloaked in calcium, creating the travertines. Where the water formed pools, the deposits formed ledges that stretched out over the cliff and created what looked like miniature jacuzzis. So much so, in fact, that tourism during the 80s and 90s led to a line of hotels being constructed above them so that the paying public could bathe in them. Unfortunately, the construction stopped the flow of the water, and even after the demolition of the hotel the flow has not returned to its original force. Still, a magnificent sight (photo).
Then there was Ephasus (photo). Reputed to give visitors a feeling of what it would have felt like to live in a Roman town, it doesn’t fail to impress. The city’s layout is still very much apparent. The library and the 25 000 seat theatre are the two big draw cards, and draw they do. I think that one of the reasons that the site seems so whole and ‘authentic’ is the fact that the marble streets are still largely intact. While recurrent earthquakes may have ruined the buildings and shifted the stones around a bit, walking on stones where you can see the tracks of roman carriages really embellishes the connection you feel with the place.
I’ve climbed a few big hills/small mountains since my last post (my knee is now quite good): on in Izmir and one in Bergama. Atop each is a citadel. Overlooking Izmir is one of the many castles founded my Alexander the Great on his way through the region, BC. In Bergama, the walls house an acropolis; the entire ancient village is within its walls. This meant quite a lot of exploring, and amazing views. Sitting at the top after walking all the way, you realise what a good defensive strategy it is to build castles on hills. Before the invention of gunpowder, trying to breach those walls after the steep, steep hike a couple of kilometres uphill in your armour with your weapons would have been hell. It’s amazing that sometimes people succeeded. The ruins in Bergama were almost as good as those at Ephasus, though much harder to get to and around. But they somehow seemed all the more rewarding, as things do when you have to put in an enormous effort to achieve them.
Troy wasn’t that great, but it was interesting to see where Achilles killed Hector and was killed by Paris in turn (see photo of a giant wooden horse). Tomorrow I’m heading to Gallipoli and ANZAC Cove (for my little bit of nationalism). War seems to be high on the ‘to do’ list in Turkey. But I’m expecting tomorrow to really be quite moving, if only because of the amount of ANZAC propaganda Australians are fed.
I don’t know how much weight I have put on in the past week and a half, but it’s definitely there. My consumption of both chocolate and rice pudding (both of which have apparently become dessert staples in Turkey) has become quite ridiculous. I’ve also been eating 4 main meals a day. Not because it’s cheap (it’s not particularly). Not because I’m really that hungry. Just because it’s there and tastes so damn good. My culinary conquests have included imam bayildi (eggplants stuffed with a spiced, garlicky rice), gozleme (savoury pancakes filled with fetta, potato and spinach), su boregi (a Turkish cheese and parsley lasagne) and many more besides. And so, so much pudding. I really must ease up on the pudding consumption. Tomorrow.
Turkey has a few big touristy spots; the fairy chimneys in Goreme, Istanbul, Ephasus. But one that wasn’t quite what I was expecting was Pamukkale. At Pamukkale, there is a spring. From this spring flows water that is packed full of minerals, but mostly calcium. The water then flows down the side of a mountain. As it does so it cools, depositing the calcium in ridges along the side of the cliff. The result is the side of a cliff cloaked in calcium, creating the travertines. Where the water formed pools, the deposits formed ledges that stretched out over the cliff and created what looked like miniature jacuzzis. So much so, in fact, that tourism during the 80s and 90s led to a line of hotels being constructed above them so that the paying public could bathe in them. Unfortunately, the construction stopped the flow of the water, and even after the demolition of the hotel the flow has not returned to its original force. Still, a magnificent sight (photo).
Then there was Ephasus (photo). Reputed to give visitors a feeling of what it would have felt like to live in a Roman town, it doesn’t fail to impress. The city’s layout is still very much apparent. The library and the 25 000 seat theatre are the two big draw cards, and draw they do. I think that one of the reasons that the site seems so whole and ‘authentic’ is the fact that the marble streets are still largely intact. While recurrent earthquakes may have ruined the buildings and shifted the stones around a bit, walking on stones where you can see the tracks of roman carriages really embellishes the connection you feel with the place.
I’ve climbed a few big hills/small mountains since my last post (my knee is now quite good): on in Izmir and one in Bergama. Atop each is a citadel. Overlooking Izmir is one of the many castles founded my Alexander the Great on his way through the region, BC. In Bergama, the walls house an acropolis; the entire ancient village is within its walls. This meant quite a lot of exploring, and amazing views. Sitting at the top after walking all the way, you realise what a good defensive strategy it is to build castles on hills. Before the invention of gunpowder, trying to breach those walls after the steep, steep hike a couple of kilometres uphill in your armour with your weapons would have been hell. It’s amazing that sometimes people succeeded. The ruins in Bergama were almost as good as those at Ephasus, though much harder to get to and around. But they somehow seemed all the more rewarding, as things do when you have to put in an enormous effort to achieve them.
Troy wasn’t that great, but it was interesting to see where Achilles killed Hector and was killed by Paris in turn (see photo of a giant wooden horse). Tomorrow I’m heading to Gallipoli and ANZAC Cove (for my little bit of nationalism). War seems to be high on the ‘to do’ list in Turkey. But I’m expecting tomorrow to really be quite moving, if only because of the amount of ANZAC propaganda Australians are fed.
I don’t know how much weight I have put on in the past week and a half, but it’s definitely there. My consumption of both chocolate and rice pudding (both of which have apparently become dessert staples in Turkey) has become quite ridiculous. I’ve also been eating 4 main meals a day. Not because it’s cheap (it’s not particularly). Not because I’m really that hungry. Just because it’s there and tastes so damn good. My culinary conquests have included imam bayildi (eggplants stuffed with a spiced, garlicky rice), gozleme (savoury pancakes filled with fetta, potato and spinach), su boregi (a Turkish cheese and parsley lasagne) and many more besides. And so, so much pudding. I really must ease up on the pudding consumption. Tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Gobble Gobble Turkey Gobble
It’s mandatory that I make at least one pun involving Turkey. It’s a big country. It can handle it. However the title is also quite apt. I have started planning my travels a little differently to those through the rest of the Middle East. While before I had focussed on the people and the sights, I am now concentrating on the food. And what food. Turkey has a reputation that spreads throughout the region as a nation of food-lovers. Everywhere, food is either being grown or eaten. Turkey is apparently one of only a few countries in the world who can feed its population to excess and still export a substantial remainder.
So as I criss-cross the country, I’m sampling the best of the regional specialties. In Gaziantep, Baklava was the order of the day. Apparently, the best baklava shop in Gaziantep vies for the title of the best in Turkey/the world with one other in Istanbul. We’ll see how it pans out. Malatya is famous for its apricots, whether fresh, dried, mashed, whatever. A lot of the dried apricots you buy in supermarkets come from around here. While I didn’t find the fresh ones overwhelmingly different to those back home, the dried ones definitely had an added flavour. They are definitely better at the source. Kahramanmaras is known Turkey-wide for its ice-cream, mixed with the flour of an orchid root. This makes it elastic and chewy and means it can be hung off meat hooks; a taste/texture sensation worth visiting this town just to try. At present, I’m in Bursa, home of the almighty kebap (kebab). Today I saw the grave of Kebapci Iskender, the man who created the very first one. Random fact: the kebap is actually the national dish of Turkey. Something to keep in mind when you’ve had a big night out and craving some doner times. Today I also tried olives from Iznik. They are probably the best I’ve tasted, and I get the feeling that the seeming forest of olive trees surrounding the town produces much of the world’s supply. Future plans include: Afyon, where the milk and cream is apparently so good because the cows graze on legally grown opium poppies over spring; Istanbul, for its Turkish Delight and the competitor for best baklava; and more else besides. The food here is amazing. There are dessert restaurants, that’s right, dessert restaurants on every street. I’ve eaten so much baked rice pudding I would laugh, if only I could be more sure my stomach wouldn’t explode.
As for the sights and sounds, there have been a few standouts. Foremost amongst them is the underground villages in Cappadocia. I think I mentioned in a blog about Egypt that I went to an underground labyrinth cemetery and was mightily impressed. That was like a sandpit tunnel to this place. An entire village carved into the soft rock underground, complete with a winery, stables and giant communal kitchens (photo). Eight stories of interwoven passages (no grid plan, just windows and tunnels to everywhere), enough to house an entire village for up to six months if an enemy army happened to invade. It was incredible. The ‘fairy chimneys’ in Goreme were fun for a bit too. There are a few different shapes, but most form when there are two different types of rock, with the toughest being on top. As erosion occurs, this tough top layer protects the rock directly below it. The results can look like mushrooms, cones or spires (photo). They are meant to be Turkey’s big tourist puller.
In other news, my knee is getting better, either thanks to the knee-strap I ended up buying or the chiropractic advice from back home. I no longer walk like a pirate, but I’ve kept the voice because I find it amusing.
So that’s Turkey for now. Oh, and don’t bother going to Ankara. Aside from seeing Ataturk’s memorial, there’s no reason to visit. I’m heading south-west from here and plan on tracing the coast up to Istanbul. My next post may be from Troy or Gallipoli. Somewhere around there. But I really wish I was back in Brisbane instead. Really.
So as I criss-cross the country, I’m sampling the best of the regional specialties. In Gaziantep, Baklava was the order of the day. Apparently, the best baklava shop in Gaziantep vies for the title of the best in Turkey/the world with one other in Istanbul. We’ll see how it pans out. Malatya is famous for its apricots, whether fresh, dried, mashed, whatever. A lot of the dried apricots you buy in supermarkets come from around here. While I didn’t find the fresh ones overwhelmingly different to those back home, the dried ones definitely had an added flavour. They are definitely better at the source. Kahramanmaras is known Turkey-wide for its ice-cream, mixed with the flour of an orchid root. This makes it elastic and chewy and means it can be hung off meat hooks; a taste/texture sensation worth visiting this town just to try. At present, I’m in Bursa, home of the almighty kebap (kebab). Today I saw the grave of Kebapci Iskender, the man who created the very first one. Random fact: the kebap is actually the national dish of Turkey. Something to keep in mind when you’ve had a big night out and craving some doner times. Today I also tried olives from Iznik. They are probably the best I’ve tasted, and I get the feeling that the seeming forest of olive trees surrounding the town produces much of the world’s supply. Future plans include: Afyon, where the milk and cream is apparently so good because the cows graze on legally grown opium poppies over spring; Istanbul, for its Turkish Delight and the competitor for best baklava; and more else besides. The food here is amazing. There are dessert restaurants, that’s right, dessert restaurants on every street. I’ve eaten so much baked rice pudding I would laugh, if only I could be more sure my stomach wouldn’t explode.
As for the sights and sounds, there have been a few standouts. Foremost amongst them is the underground villages in Cappadocia. I think I mentioned in a blog about Egypt that I went to an underground labyrinth cemetery and was mightily impressed. That was like a sandpit tunnel to this place. An entire village carved into the soft rock underground, complete with a winery, stables and giant communal kitchens (photo). Eight stories of interwoven passages (no grid plan, just windows and tunnels to everywhere), enough to house an entire village for up to six months if an enemy army happened to invade. It was incredible. The ‘fairy chimneys’ in Goreme were fun for a bit too. There are a few different shapes, but most form when there are two different types of rock, with the toughest being on top. As erosion occurs, this tough top layer protects the rock directly below it. The results can look like mushrooms, cones or spires (photo). They are meant to be Turkey’s big tourist puller.
In other news, my knee is getting better, either thanks to the knee-strap I ended up buying or the chiropractic advice from back home. I no longer walk like a pirate, but I’ve kept the voice because I find it amusing.
So that’s Turkey for now. Oh, and don’t bother going to Ankara. Aside from seeing Ataturk’s memorial, there’s no reason to visit. I’m heading south-west from here and plan on tracing the coast up to Istanbul. My next post may be from Troy or Gallipoli. Somewhere around there. But I really wish I was back in Brisbane instead. Really.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Retro Syria
Syria
What to say about a country that all you had envisaged turned out to be incorrect. Only, I guess, that Syria is a marvel, and don’t believe the press.
To be honest, the sights in Syria are a little limited if you’re going in for the ‘old stuff’ tour. Palmyra in the East is OK, but as I said in my last post on Syria, not really worth the hassle unless you’ve got your own car and speak Arabic pretty fluently. Even then, when you’ve come from further south and seen the ruins in Jordan and Egypt, it’s a bit of a let-down. The Roman Theatre at Bosra was interesting, but I think this may have been due in part to it being the first castle-esque structure I’d fully explored.
Of far more interest is Krak des Chevaliers, the majestic crusader castle built by the French on their way to the Holy Land. The castle is epic. That’s a perfect world to describe it. From its turrets to its tunnels, this is the castle you’ve thought about when imagining knights riding into the yonder. I had the fortune of visiting on my birthday, figuring it was a suitable present, though my leg hated me for it afterwards.
But the reason you’ll enjoy Syria is not the buildings, but the people and the experiences. Far from being AK47 slinging Middle Eastern freedom haters, the people I met in Syria have been the nicest yet. When you ask them where something is, they don’t point you in the general direction; they’ll take you by the hand and walk/drive you there, all the while finding out your life story. Syria perfectly blends the friendliness of Jordan and Lebanon with the austerity of Egypt. Such a mix of genuine warmth and cheap food/transport/shopping/everything will make you want to change your trip to stay here longer.
I think the two highlights of my Syrian sojourn happened in the first half, in the south. The first was going to the hammam in Damascus, where I found out just how white I still was. I swear there would be a market for this in Australia. It’s not only a great place to go and get clean or have a massage or sauna or whatever, it’s also a really social place to just chat with people here. Nobody has their shields up, and nobody’s posing. It’s a nice change from the street, where everyone is trying to look their trendiest.
The second highlight was definitely going to Quneitra in the Golan Heights. Going to a place like this, that has been the cause of so much anger and nationalistic aggression was a little overwhelming. Everyone in Australia has heard of the Golan Heights, and its infamy follows you when you go there. It’s so easy to imagine this now deserted shell of a town as a battlefield for a conflict that’s gone on for generations. History is alive here.
As for the north, I feel a little cheated. Following doctors orders, I tried to rest as much as possible when I returned to Syria (excluding the trip to the Krak, but it was my birthday). As a result, I saw very little of Hama and Homs, two of the big cities in the north. Though from what I saw, Hama seems a relaxing place to spend a day or two. Nor did I get to go on the day trips I had planned. In Aleppo, I didn’t even go to the ‘sights’, as I was trying ridiculously hard to stay in bed resting. And for all my self-deprivation, I’m still in pain, and a little bit grumpy about it. However, it does leave me with a good excuse to come back, which I very much hope to do in the near future. It’s an amazing place, all the more so because it’s so underrated in the West.
What to say about a country that all you had envisaged turned out to be incorrect. Only, I guess, that Syria is a marvel, and don’t believe the press.
To be honest, the sights in Syria are a little limited if you’re going in for the ‘old stuff’ tour. Palmyra in the East is OK, but as I said in my last post on Syria, not really worth the hassle unless you’ve got your own car and speak Arabic pretty fluently. Even then, when you’ve come from further south and seen the ruins in Jordan and Egypt, it’s a bit of a let-down. The Roman Theatre at Bosra was interesting, but I think this may have been due in part to it being the first castle-esque structure I’d fully explored.
Of far more interest is Krak des Chevaliers, the majestic crusader castle built by the French on their way to the Holy Land. The castle is epic. That’s a perfect world to describe it. From its turrets to its tunnels, this is the castle you’ve thought about when imagining knights riding into the yonder. I had the fortune of visiting on my birthday, figuring it was a suitable present, though my leg hated me for it afterwards.
But the reason you’ll enjoy Syria is not the buildings, but the people and the experiences. Far from being AK47 slinging Middle Eastern freedom haters, the people I met in Syria have been the nicest yet. When you ask them where something is, they don’t point you in the general direction; they’ll take you by the hand and walk/drive you there, all the while finding out your life story. Syria perfectly blends the friendliness of Jordan and Lebanon with the austerity of Egypt. Such a mix of genuine warmth and cheap food/transport/shopping/everything will make you want to change your trip to stay here longer.
I think the two highlights of my Syrian sojourn happened in the first half, in the south. The first was going to the hammam in Damascus, where I found out just how white I still was. I swear there would be a market for this in Australia. It’s not only a great place to go and get clean or have a massage or sauna or whatever, it’s also a really social place to just chat with people here. Nobody has their shields up, and nobody’s posing. It’s a nice change from the street, where everyone is trying to look their trendiest.
The second highlight was definitely going to Quneitra in the Golan Heights. Going to a place like this, that has been the cause of so much anger and nationalistic aggression was a little overwhelming. Everyone in Australia has heard of the Golan Heights, and its infamy follows you when you go there. It’s so easy to imagine this now deserted shell of a town as a battlefield for a conflict that’s gone on for generations. History is alive here.
As for the north, I feel a little cheated. Following doctors orders, I tried to rest as much as possible when I returned to Syria (excluding the trip to the Krak, but it was my birthday). As a result, I saw very little of Hama and Homs, two of the big cities in the north. Though from what I saw, Hama seems a relaxing place to spend a day or two. Nor did I get to go on the day trips I had planned. In Aleppo, I didn’t even go to the ‘sights’, as I was trying ridiculously hard to stay in bed resting. And for all my self-deprivation, I’m still in pain, and a little bit grumpy about it. However, it does leave me with a good excuse to come back, which I very much hope to do in the near future. It’s an amazing place, all the more so because it’s so underrated in the West.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Ful (sic) Lebanon, mate
Usually there is some truthful basis to stereotypes. British people do seem to complain about the weather an awful lot. Americans do speak very loudly. And it seems that aspects of the Lebanese stereotype aren’t only present among those in Australia, but also those back ‘home’. First, Lebanese guys and girls around my age are constantly on their phones either talking to someone or just using it to listen to music. They are all dressed in real or fake designer clothes, and most of the cars on the road in Beirut are either hotted up or luxury. I’m not joking about this last part, so it must be something that carries over into later life. In Beirut, half of the cars are luxury of some sort (BMWs, Mercedes, Porsche, etc.), another quarter are taxis, which are also Mercedes, just from the 50s and 60s. The final quarter is comprised of what we’d call the ‘day-to-day’ cars, the commodores and falcons of the Middle East, and the hotted up youngsters. This data is based on a survey undertaken by yours truly at a sidewalk café along the Beirut cornice.
Lebanon still shows the scars of the civil war, which ended in the early 90s. There are still bullet-ridden buildings scattered around the place, no less occupied now than they would have been back then. But since the end of the war, conspicuous consumption has ruled the day. This seems to be why there are so many luxury cars and designer clothes. The Lonely Planet guide summed it up well in saying that after the war, Beirutis tried as fast as they could to start living the good life again. The bars and clubs in Beirut are among the best in the world.
I went to the south, but was unable to go to my primary target, the Al-Khiam Detention Camp where Israel held prisoners without charge as a deterrent to others. Apparently the conditions when the Red Cross were allowed in in 1995 were mind-boggling. However to console myself I went on a tour of the Ksara vineyard, which makes wines of international repute aged in barrels stored in underground tunnels (see photo), and visited the temples at Baalbek. The temple of Jupiter apparently has the largest standing columns in the world.
However the first of my two highlights of Lebanon was the Jeita Grotto, north of Beirut. In my diary I just wrote ‘amazing’ a few times, before trying (but failing) to explain just why they were so amazing. There are two giant caves (maybe 300 or 400 mitres tall) that each stretch back around 6km into this mountain. And they are FULL of stalactites and stalagmites of all shapes and sizes. Things that have been forming since before human existed. For one of the only times in my life, I was speechless. If you are in the region (Romania or the Sudan count as the region), you must come here. Cameras weren’t allowed, so I can’t show any photos. Memories will have to do.
The second highlight was visiting Al-Badawi refugee camp just outside Tripoli. I’ve never visited a refugee camp before, but as one of the sorts of places I’ve thought about working in the future, I thought I should probably check one out. There is so much to write about it, but the primary thing is that it was not what I was expecting. The camp was set up in 1952 to accommodate the first Palestinian refugees, and is currently undergoing a bit of a crisis, as fighting in another camp has seen another 30 000 people arrive. It took a day to organise clearance to talk to a number of well-placed people, but in the end I spoke to a number of people from the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) and a number of refugees. I got a whole lot out of this experience, and am still in email contact with one of the guys who works there (my guide, photo attached).
Now, just so that a few of you can have a giggle at my expense, I had a couple of medical issues in Lebanon. The first was that I got conjunctivitis in Beirut, and woke up in the mornings with my eyes sealed shut. With eye-drops, this went away after a couple of days. The second is that due to the amount of exercise I’ve been doing, my left big toe and knee have decided to play up. My big toe had some bone compression issue, and my knee has become quite severely swollen. I went to the doctor and they sucked a few hundred mls of liquid out of it with a giant syringe. Then they gave me a pile of anti-inflammatories and let me go. I went to another doctor today (3 days later) because it came back. Apparently ‘rest’ doesn’t just mean ‘take more taxis and walk slowly around the castles’. He gave me more anti-inflammatories and now I am resting for a few days.
Hope you’re all thoroughly amused, as I now walk like a wooden-legged pirate, though perhaps with even more grimacing.
p.s. Also, thanks to everyone who is writing comments to my blogs. It’s nice to know people are reading and that you care enough to write comments *sob*. Please keep it up!
Lebanon still shows the scars of the civil war, which ended in the early 90s. There are still bullet-ridden buildings scattered around the place, no less occupied now than they would have been back then. But since the end of the war, conspicuous consumption has ruled the day. This seems to be why there are so many luxury cars and designer clothes. The Lonely Planet guide summed it up well in saying that after the war, Beirutis tried as fast as they could to start living the good life again. The bars and clubs in Beirut are among the best in the world.
I went to the south, but was unable to go to my primary target, the Al-Khiam Detention Camp where Israel held prisoners without charge as a deterrent to others. Apparently the conditions when the Red Cross were allowed in in 1995 were mind-boggling. However to console myself I went on a tour of the Ksara vineyard, which makes wines of international repute aged in barrels stored in underground tunnels (see photo), and visited the temples at Baalbek. The temple of Jupiter apparently has the largest standing columns in the world.
However the first of my two highlights of Lebanon was the Jeita Grotto, north of Beirut. In my diary I just wrote ‘amazing’ a few times, before trying (but failing) to explain just why they were so amazing. There are two giant caves (maybe 300 or 400 mitres tall) that each stretch back around 6km into this mountain. And they are FULL of stalactites and stalagmites of all shapes and sizes. Things that have been forming since before human existed. For one of the only times in my life, I was speechless. If you are in the region (Romania or the Sudan count as the region), you must come here. Cameras weren’t allowed, so I can’t show any photos. Memories will have to do.
The second highlight was visiting Al-Badawi refugee camp just outside Tripoli. I’ve never visited a refugee camp before, but as one of the sorts of places I’ve thought about working in the future, I thought I should probably check one out. There is so much to write about it, but the primary thing is that it was not what I was expecting. The camp was set up in 1952 to accommodate the first Palestinian refugees, and is currently undergoing a bit of a crisis, as fighting in another camp has seen another 30 000 people arrive. It took a day to organise clearance to talk to a number of well-placed people, but in the end I spoke to a number of people from the United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) and a number of refugees. I got a whole lot out of this experience, and am still in email contact with one of the guys who works there (my guide, photo attached).
Now, just so that a few of you can have a giggle at my expense, I had a couple of medical issues in Lebanon. The first was that I got conjunctivitis in Beirut, and woke up in the mornings with my eyes sealed shut. With eye-drops, this went away after a couple of days. The second is that due to the amount of exercise I’ve been doing, my left big toe and knee have decided to play up. My big toe had some bone compression issue, and my knee has become quite severely swollen. I went to the doctor and they sucked a few hundred mls of liquid out of it with a giant syringe. Then they gave me a pile of anti-inflammatories and let me go. I went to another doctor today (3 days later) because it came back. Apparently ‘rest’ doesn’t just mean ‘take more taxis and walk slowly around the castles’. He gave me more anti-inflammatories and now I am resting for a few days.
Hope you’re all thoroughly amused, as I now walk like a wooden-legged pirate, though perhaps with even more grimacing.
p.s. Also, thanks to everyone who is writing comments to my blogs. It’s nice to know people are reading and that you care enough to write comments *sob*. Please keep it up!
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Where Angel George Fears to Tread
From what I’ve read in the media, Syria is an evil, evil place, full of machine-gun wielding suicide bombers waiting on every corner to do me in. As part of Gorgie’s ‘Axis of Evil’, Syria is apparently somewhere that the people are not all that nice, really.
In the 4 days I’ve spent here, I must say that I fully agree with the US; in the way that I don’t agree in the slightest. Egypt is cheap but most of the people you talk to want your money. In Jordan, the people are friendly, but they’ll just take your money in the form of high prices. In Syria there is the perfect combination of people and prices. The locals (except the taxi drivers, which is ubiquitous) are the friendliest I’ve met, always wanting a chat and inviting you back to their place for a snack and tea. They’ll buy you a shisha, and just be happy that you’re in their country and having a good time. Syria is great. In case I needed to tell anyone here, don’t trust the US in the Middle East.
First stop was the souq in Damascus. While not as big or cramped as the one in Cairo, it was well worth the visit just for the atmosphere. It ends at the Umayyad Mosque, which is the biggest in Syria. It is possibly one of the most expensive publicly funded projects in Syrian history, as the interior of its courtyard (which is huge) was inlaid with gold and precious stones and metals. The first photo is a section that’s been restored, and gives you an idea of the intricacy of the designs.
After dinner, I went along with a friend to a hamam (an Arabic bathhouse) for an outrageously relaxing experience. After chilling for a while in sauna-like bathing room, I got a full on, chiropractic-included massage that left me tingling. Somebody should really open one of these in Brisbane (business opportunity, anyone?). Apparently half of the tan I thought I’d developed was just dirt. Either that or I had just had half my skin scraped off. Oh I was clean.
I went for a day-trip to Bosra near the Jordan-Syria border. The main attraction is a fortress surrounding a Roman Theatre that seats 7 000. There weren’t any barriers anywhere, so I got lost for a few hours exploring the entire fortress. There doesn’t really seem much else to say about it, but it’s been a Syrian highlight.
The next day I went to Palmyra, meant to be Syria’s no. 1 tourist spot. They were ruins, and not really that impressive after the ones at Egypt. In all, it’s probably not worth the hassle getting out there, especially in the baking summer heat, it you don’t have your own transport. I spent a while talking to some of the guides, who had learnt their fluent English purely from tourists. Impressive, but a little disturbing.
I think the best part of Syria so far, and a highlight of the trip was my visit to Quneitra yesterday (parents, look away now. Maybe.). Quneitra, more popularly known as the Golan Heights, is a region that sits about 100 meters from Israel. The 100 meters is the UN-imposed international zone. No-one is allowed there but UN soldiers. Go figure. Israel pulled out of the Golan Heights in an agreement with Syria relatively recently, but made sure to leave nothing behind, bulldozing most of the village. Quneitra was the site of a massive Israeli offensive, as it previously belonged to Syria. The most dramatic site in the ex-village is the hospital-come-shooting range. I think the photo is pretty self explanatory.
Now, Syria is great, and I’m going to be spending a week and a bit more here, but I’ve decided to jump the border into Lebanon for a week. I thought, well, I’m in the area. And it’s a completely different type of place from Syria that I want to explore for a while. And they’ve got some fantastic food. So, next post will be a Lebanese expose of the most adventurous kind.
Nick
p.s. Parents, don’t freak out too much. The civil war ended in 1990.
In the 4 days I’ve spent here, I must say that I fully agree with the US; in the way that I don’t agree in the slightest. Egypt is cheap but most of the people you talk to want your money. In Jordan, the people are friendly, but they’ll just take your money in the form of high prices. In Syria there is the perfect combination of people and prices. The locals (except the taxi drivers, which is ubiquitous) are the friendliest I’ve met, always wanting a chat and inviting you back to their place for a snack and tea. They’ll buy you a shisha, and just be happy that you’re in their country and having a good time. Syria is great. In case I needed to tell anyone here, don’t trust the US in the Middle East.
First stop was the souq in Damascus. While not as big or cramped as the one in Cairo, it was well worth the visit just for the atmosphere. It ends at the Umayyad Mosque, which is the biggest in Syria. It is possibly one of the most expensive publicly funded projects in Syrian history, as the interior of its courtyard (which is huge) was inlaid with gold and precious stones and metals. The first photo is a section that’s been restored, and gives you an idea of the intricacy of the designs.
After dinner, I went along with a friend to a hamam (an Arabic bathhouse) for an outrageously relaxing experience. After chilling for a while in sauna-like bathing room, I got a full on, chiropractic-included massage that left me tingling. Somebody should really open one of these in Brisbane (business opportunity, anyone?). Apparently half of the tan I thought I’d developed was just dirt. Either that or I had just had half my skin scraped off. Oh I was clean.
I went for a day-trip to Bosra near the Jordan-Syria border. The main attraction is a fortress surrounding a Roman Theatre that seats 7 000. There weren’t any barriers anywhere, so I got lost for a few hours exploring the entire fortress. There doesn’t really seem much else to say about it, but it’s been a Syrian highlight.
The next day I went to Palmyra, meant to be Syria’s no. 1 tourist spot. They were ruins, and not really that impressive after the ones at Egypt. In all, it’s probably not worth the hassle getting out there, especially in the baking summer heat, it you don’t have your own transport. I spent a while talking to some of the guides, who had learnt their fluent English purely from tourists. Impressive, but a little disturbing.
I think the best part of Syria so far, and a highlight of the trip was my visit to Quneitra yesterday (parents, look away now. Maybe.). Quneitra, more popularly known as the Golan Heights, is a region that sits about 100 meters from Israel. The 100 meters is the UN-imposed international zone. No-one is allowed there but UN soldiers. Go figure. Israel pulled out of the Golan Heights in an agreement with Syria relatively recently, but made sure to leave nothing behind, bulldozing most of the village. Quneitra was the site of a massive Israeli offensive, as it previously belonged to Syria. The most dramatic site in the ex-village is the hospital-come-shooting range. I think the photo is pretty self explanatory.
Now, Syria is great, and I’m going to be spending a week and a bit more here, but I’ve decided to jump the border into Lebanon for a week. I thought, well, I’m in the area. And it’s a completely different type of place from Syria that I want to explore for a while. And they’ve got some fantastic food. So, next post will be a Lebanese expose of the most adventurous kind.
Nick
p.s. Parents, don’t freak out too much. The civil war ended in 1990.
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Nick of Arabia
Well, I’m no T.E. Lawrence, but I do feel that I got a lot out of Jordan in the few days I was there. I also feel like Jordan got a lot out of me, too. Namely, a whole lot of cash. Coming from Egypt, this place was like the inner-city Sydney of the Middle East. Damn tied currency.
The ferry getting there was painful. In a final swan-song, Egypt threw all the lack of organisation it had left at me. A tentative 3 hour trip to Aqaba in Jordan took 12.5 hours. But I did get a lovely ferry trip for 5 hours. But Jordan. This is a beautiful country, especially out of the cities. The three highlights were, of course, Petra, Wadi Rum and the Dead Sea.
First serious stop was Petra, the ancient city that wasn’t build but carved into the mountains surrounding a valley. Apparently this is one of the places my father is a bit jealous I was getting to go to, and with good reason. It’s awe inspiring: another one of those places where you think ‘I have no idea why they bothered to do this, but damn I’m glad they did’. To enter the city, you have to walk 1 km down a narrow natural gorge that the Romans had paved when the city was founded. Doing this early in the morning is amazing, when there are no other people around to spoil the quiet. It’s a bit of a mind trip. Then, emerging from the gorge you are brought face-to-face with The Treasury, the most famous of the buildings at Petra (photo). The historians think it was built as a tomb and then converted into a treasury a bit later. It gives you an idea of the type and scale of all the buildings in the valley. Some time during the first massive climb to a sacrificial alter on the top of a mountain my camera ran out of batteries, so I was unable to record the view from the top, nor of The Monastery, the second most famous place. Both required a painful, painful walk to the top. Which only made the 1 km walk back out of the valley all the more fun (sarcasm).
Wadi Rum was the other highlight of Jordan. Imagine central Australia without the shrubbery, but with huge cliffs stabbing into the sky. The best part of this excursion wasn’t seeing Lawrence of Arabia’s house, the rock bridges or the springs, but witnessing the expanse of the desert laid out before you from the top of a craggy cliff face. It’s the type of view you can imagine an epic battle unfolding in front of. Very biblical. Breathtakingly huge. After the few hours of jeep safari exploring the desert, we settled into a ‘Bedouin’ camp for the night, complete with goat-hair tents and a fire-cooked meal. We watched the sun set behind the orange mountains and lay staring at the stars to the sound of singing and an Arabic guitar (you can actually see the stars when you’re in the desert. All of them).
Now, for those of you who have been living in a box, the Dead Sea is so called because it’s saturated with salt, and so nothing can live in it. This is because sea water feeds into it, but doesn’t go anywhere. Thus when the water evaporates, it leaves behind the salt. The result is intriguing. Usually when I hold my breath in water, my forehead usually bobs at water level. In the Dead Sea, I was amused to find that the water stopped at chest height. Additionally, my legs no longer wanted to stay under me, so I spent around half an hour trying to stay upright. But it was good fun, even if I tasted salt for a while afterwards.
The day after the Dead Sea excursion I made a break for Syria. Jordan is great, but comparatively quite expensive, and along with the sights mentioned above I had explored most of the other things Jordan had to offer. So now I am in Syria a few days early, leaving me more time to explore this bigger, cheaper country. But Jordan was fantastic, especially the people. No hassles from street vendors or anything. What a change.
The ferry getting there was painful. In a final swan-song, Egypt threw all the lack of organisation it had left at me. A tentative 3 hour trip to Aqaba in Jordan took 12.5 hours. But I did get a lovely ferry trip for 5 hours. But Jordan. This is a beautiful country, especially out of the cities. The three highlights were, of course, Petra, Wadi Rum and the Dead Sea.
First serious stop was Petra, the ancient city that wasn’t build but carved into the mountains surrounding a valley. Apparently this is one of the places my father is a bit jealous I was getting to go to, and with good reason. It’s awe inspiring: another one of those places where you think ‘I have no idea why they bothered to do this, but damn I’m glad they did’. To enter the city, you have to walk 1 km down a narrow natural gorge that the Romans had paved when the city was founded. Doing this early in the morning is amazing, when there are no other people around to spoil the quiet. It’s a bit of a mind trip. Then, emerging from the gorge you are brought face-to-face with The Treasury, the most famous of the buildings at Petra (photo). The historians think it was built as a tomb and then converted into a treasury a bit later. It gives you an idea of the type and scale of all the buildings in the valley. Some time during the first massive climb to a sacrificial alter on the top of a mountain my camera ran out of batteries, so I was unable to record the view from the top, nor of The Monastery, the second most famous place. Both required a painful, painful walk to the top. Which only made the 1 km walk back out of the valley all the more fun (sarcasm).
Wadi Rum was the other highlight of Jordan. Imagine central Australia without the shrubbery, but with huge cliffs stabbing into the sky. The best part of this excursion wasn’t seeing Lawrence of Arabia’s house, the rock bridges or the springs, but witnessing the expanse of the desert laid out before you from the top of a craggy cliff face. It’s the type of view you can imagine an epic battle unfolding in front of. Very biblical. Breathtakingly huge. After the few hours of jeep safari exploring the desert, we settled into a ‘Bedouin’ camp for the night, complete with goat-hair tents and a fire-cooked meal. We watched the sun set behind the orange mountains and lay staring at the stars to the sound of singing and an Arabic guitar (you can actually see the stars when you’re in the desert. All of them).
Now, for those of you who have been living in a box, the Dead Sea is so called because it’s saturated with salt, and so nothing can live in it. This is because sea water feeds into it, but doesn’t go anywhere. Thus when the water evaporates, it leaves behind the salt. The result is intriguing. Usually when I hold my breath in water, my forehead usually bobs at water level. In the Dead Sea, I was amused to find that the water stopped at chest height. Additionally, my legs no longer wanted to stay under me, so I spent around half an hour trying to stay upright. But it was good fun, even if I tasted salt for a while afterwards.
The day after the Dead Sea excursion I made a break for Syria. Jordan is great, but comparatively quite expensive, and along with the sights mentioned above I had explored most of the other things Jordan had to offer. So now I am in Syria a few days early, leaving me more time to explore this bigger, cheaper country. But Jordan was fantastic, especially the people. No hassles from street vendors or anything. What a change.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Egypt: A Retrospective
In my first post in Cairo, I made the statement that Cairo was Calcutta minus the Indians and Hindi, plus Arabs and Arabic. This is an observation that I still support today, with a couple of qualifiers. Cairo, the ‘Mother of all Cities’ as some know it, I guess is like the capital cities of developing countries everywhere. Hectic, crowded, a bit smelly and polluted. But at the same time, it offers a whole lot of fun if you know where to look and what to do. I don’t think I had quite sunk into Egypt enough until I returned from Alexandria to look at Cairo with any objectivity. Afterwards, I grew to like it even more.
Alexandria was a pleasant way to spend a few days. There are a couple of sights, but it is most renown for being the beat of a few notable writers and poets, such as Cafavy. There is definitely something about Alexandria that’s different from the rest of Egypt. Somehow the fact that they are still living out of buildings built under the British pre-World Wars doesn’t seem to matter so much here. It fits a bit better than in Cairo, where you just wonder whether there has been a building strike for a few decades. Or a demolition strike, more pertinently.
The Nile Valley south to Aswan was both fantastic and painful. Upper Egypt (Luxor and south) was jam packed with history; tombs, temples, you name it were everywhere. As were markets and street merchants. While Upper Egypt was quite magnificent (and damn hot), the experience was diminished somewhat by the constant, constant stream of touts and invitations into peoples shops. People physically holding your arm while smiling and directing you to their wares was not uncommon, nor was the greeting ‘my friend, my friend’. After a day of this, I worked out how to say ‘Sahibi? Sahibi? Anta laysa sahibaka’ (My friend? My friend? I am not your friend). It seems quite rude, but if people are going to be grabbing my arm and trying to rip me off at every bent, I really don’t care all that much.
Middle Egypt was so different from Upper Egypt: a completely different vibe. As the centre of the violent actions of the Muslim Brotherhood in the 1990s, there is a strict security regime. In exchange for a better travel advisory from Western governments, the Egyptian government instituted a policy under which whenever you’re not in your hotel, you are accompanied by a police officer. They rarely spoke English, which was both a blessing and a curse. From the minute you step off the train, you are followed. I managed to escape a couple of times without their knowing, and had a great time around two of the monasteries with two locals I met in Sohaj, but other than this, Nick’s travel guide rates Middle Egypt as a ‘don’t bother’ destination. The hassles far outweigh the benefits. Upper Egypt = good, Middle Egypt = painful.
The Suez Canal region was chilled, and is OK for a couple of day, especially if you like duty free shopping. There is not much of note there however, except a big bit of water that ships float through. It’s not awe inspiring until you sit in front of it and think about it for a bit.
Dahab. It is not Egypt. It is Goa transplanted in Egypt. It’s Hawaii with better diving. Diving, expensive food and wares, and a Western atmosphere, just to save you from mixing with the local culture. The best part is the excursions on offer to Mt. Sinai (which I’d definitely recommend climbing) and the St. Catherine Monastery. Unless you love diving (which I definitely do after my intro dive), Dahab’s appeal is limited to it being the best place I have yet found if you are getting into the down phase of culture shock. You can forget you’re in the Middle East, and enjoy the world’s second best diving site at the same time.
I feel I should also mention a few points of note about Egypt overall, for the general interest of listeners at home.
The traffic. Exactly the same as India. The next time people complain about Middle Eastern taxi drivers being crazy, I’ll really have to censor them. The ones in Australia drive like they’re in a road safety video. I cannot ascertain whether road rules exist in Egypt, or whether they are limited to ‘blow you horn every few seconds so I know where you are’. Also, pedestrians rule. The way to cross a road is to step out at a convenient time, and walk (not run. Running people are unpredictable). They will go around you or stop. But it takes some practice.
There are no bins in Egypt. Rubbish is thrown on the ground, and collected by an army of street cleaners. You will feel bad about throwing things on the ground for a while. I’m still not used to it. But there aren’t any bins, so you have to.
There are superfluous police everywhere. I have wondered whether it is a hangover of Nasser’s socialist policy that everyone with a university degree was guaranteed a job in the public service. Either way, they are about every 75 metres on every street in Cairo, and only slightly scarcer elsewhere.
It’s obvious that Egypt is trying to Westernise like crazy. Conspicuous consumption rules the day. However it seems to be being done in the wrong order. I have not yet met a man (and few women) without a mobile phone, including the people begging for change on the street. Most people have nice clothes and jewellery, but terribly dirty homes and old, old cars. It seems the rich can isolate themselves in a bubble of affluence, popping from one air conditioned spot to the next, but the less well off are trying to flaunt wealth they don’t have. There are satellite dishes on the roof of every house. People put phones before food.
The final point of note is either really fun, or really annoying, depending on your mood. In Egypt (and I think in most of the Middle East) there is a game called ‘who can horde the most small change’. There are very few coins, so everything is exchanged in notes. ATMs only give out 50 and 100 pound notes, which pose a problem when things are rarely that expensive. I have come to be quite accomplished at the small change game, and it adds an extra dimension to haggling. Yet it seems that once you have amasses a small fortune in 1 pound notes, they will all disappear in a day due to a bad stream of people who don’t actually have any change, or through having a bad day in the game.
I have exhausted my mind for the moment now, but I think this post has covered the major points of interest about Egypt. No doubt I’ll look through my photos and remember other stories, but these can wait for another time.
Ma-Salamah Egypt.
Alexandria was a pleasant way to spend a few days. There are a couple of sights, but it is most renown for being the beat of a few notable writers and poets, such as Cafavy. There is definitely something about Alexandria that’s different from the rest of Egypt. Somehow the fact that they are still living out of buildings built under the British pre-World Wars doesn’t seem to matter so much here. It fits a bit better than in Cairo, where you just wonder whether there has been a building strike for a few decades. Or a demolition strike, more pertinently.
The Nile Valley south to Aswan was both fantastic and painful. Upper Egypt (Luxor and south) was jam packed with history; tombs, temples, you name it were everywhere. As were markets and street merchants. While Upper Egypt was quite magnificent (and damn hot), the experience was diminished somewhat by the constant, constant stream of touts and invitations into peoples shops. People physically holding your arm while smiling and directing you to their wares was not uncommon, nor was the greeting ‘my friend, my friend’. After a day of this, I worked out how to say ‘Sahibi? Sahibi? Anta laysa sahibaka’ (My friend? My friend? I am not your friend). It seems quite rude, but if people are going to be grabbing my arm and trying to rip me off at every bent, I really don’t care all that much.
Middle Egypt was so different from Upper Egypt: a completely different vibe. As the centre of the violent actions of the Muslim Brotherhood in the 1990s, there is a strict security regime. In exchange for a better travel advisory from Western governments, the Egyptian government instituted a policy under which whenever you’re not in your hotel, you are accompanied by a police officer. They rarely spoke English, which was both a blessing and a curse. From the minute you step off the train, you are followed. I managed to escape a couple of times without their knowing, and had a great time around two of the monasteries with two locals I met in Sohaj, but other than this, Nick’s travel guide rates Middle Egypt as a ‘don’t bother’ destination. The hassles far outweigh the benefits. Upper Egypt = good, Middle Egypt = painful.
The Suez Canal region was chilled, and is OK for a couple of day, especially if you like duty free shopping. There is not much of note there however, except a big bit of water that ships float through. It’s not awe inspiring until you sit in front of it and think about it for a bit.
Dahab. It is not Egypt. It is Goa transplanted in Egypt. It’s Hawaii with better diving. Diving, expensive food and wares, and a Western atmosphere, just to save you from mixing with the local culture. The best part is the excursions on offer to Mt. Sinai (which I’d definitely recommend climbing) and the St. Catherine Monastery. Unless you love diving (which I definitely do after my intro dive), Dahab’s appeal is limited to it being the best place I have yet found if you are getting into the down phase of culture shock. You can forget you’re in the Middle East, and enjoy the world’s second best diving site at the same time.
I feel I should also mention a few points of note about Egypt overall, for the general interest of listeners at home.
The traffic. Exactly the same as India. The next time people complain about Middle Eastern taxi drivers being crazy, I’ll really have to censor them. The ones in Australia drive like they’re in a road safety video. I cannot ascertain whether road rules exist in Egypt, or whether they are limited to ‘blow you horn every few seconds so I know where you are’. Also, pedestrians rule. The way to cross a road is to step out at a convenient time, and walk (not run. Running people are unpredictable). They will go around you or stop. But it takes some practice.
There are no bins in Egypt. Rubbish is thrown on the ground, and collected by an army of street cleaners. You will feel bad about throwing things on the ground for a while. I’m still not used to it. But there aren’t any bins, so you have to.
There are superfluous police everywhere. I have wondered whether it is a hangover of Nasser’s socialist policy that everyone with a university degree was guaranteed a job in the public service. Either way, they are about every 75 metres on every street in Cairo, and only slightly scarcer elsewhere.
It’s obvious that Egypt is trying to Westernise like crazy. Conspicuous consumption rules the day. However it seems to be being done in the wrong order. I have not yet met a man (and few women) without a mobile phone, including the people begging for change on the street. Most people have nice clothes and jewellery, but terribly dirty homes and old, old cars. It seems the rich can isolate themselves in a bubble of affluence, popping from one air conditioned spot to the next, but the less well off are trying to flaunt wealth they don’t have. There are satellite dishes on the roof of every house. People put phones before food.
The final point of note is either really fun, or really annoying, depending on your mood. In Egypt (and I think in most of the Middle East) there is a game called ‘who can horde the most small change’. There are very few coins, so everything is exchanged in notes. ATMs only give out 50 and 100 pound notes, which pose a problem when things are rarely that expensive. I have come to be quite accomplished at the small change game, and it adds an extra dimension to haggling. Yet it seems that once you have amasses a small fortune in 1 pound notes, they will all disappear in a day due to a bad stream of people who don’t actually have any change, or through having a bad day in the game.
I have exhausted my mind for the moment now, but I think this post has covered the major points of interest about Egypt. No doubt I’ll look through my photos and remember other stories, but these can wait for another time.
Ma-Salamah Egypt.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
The Gospel of Nick: Revelations, verse 7.
I needed a change, and got just this. Having survived the mainland Egyptian experience, I thoroughly enjoyed the change of scenery that awaited me at the Suez Canal. While there isn't much to do in the towns themselves, Port Sa'id and Suez were a nice, relaxing way to get my head back together before moving on to other parts. I've posted a picture of the southern entry to the canal.
After Suez (and the painful bus ride from), things got a whole lot happier. I arrived in Dahab (in Sinai) with mixed expectations. On the one hand, it's meant to be the Goa of the Middle East, which promised fun and frolicking. On the other hand, it's meant to be the Goa of the Middle East, so it also promised a very touristy time. But I quickly got over this. After having one plan foiled, the days got ridiculously good. Much to Lucy's envy, I went diving in the Red Sea. This in itself is not so amazing, but the Red Sea is reputed to have the second best coral reefs in the world, second only to the Great Barrier Reef. And it really was very spectacular. My only wish is that I knew more about fish so I could name a few of the things I saw. But I can't, so I won't.
Then, the day got even better. See, the plan that had been foiled was to climb Mount Sinai and see the sunset, which hadn't ended up happening. What DID end up happening instead was climbing it at night, for 3 hours, sleeping for an hour at the top, and seeing the sun RISE over the Sinai and Saudi Arabia. And that was quite extraordinary. No revelations, unfortunately, but it was interested following in Moses's footsteps. Additionally, the monastery near the bottom of the mountain houses the descendant of the burning bush (yes, THAT burning bush). I was a little bit disappointed with it, as it wouldn't light no matter how hard I tried. So I settled with taking a photo, which is attached.
Following a day of recovery where I made up the lost hours of sleep, I said goodbye to Egypt. And now, I sit in an internet cafe in Aqaba, Jordan. Please, don't ask me about the 'two hour' journey from Dahab to here. It will be a sore point for many days.
I plan on posting an Egypt retrospective shortly, but at the moment I am too tired. After dinner, I may feel happier, but I will probably not post again for a day or two. Tomorrow I head to Petra for the day, which is meant to be amazing. But I'll keep you posted.
Hope Brisbane is still the party centre of the southern hemisphere.
Nick
After Suez (and the painful bus ride from), things got a whole lot happier. I arrived in Dahab (in Sinai) with mixed expectations. On the one hand, it's meant to be the Goa of the Middle East, which promised fun and frolicking. On the other hand, it's meant to be the Goa of the Middle East, so it also promised a very touristy time. But I quickly got over this. After having one plan foiled, the days got ridiculously good. Much to Lucy's envy, I went diving in the Red Sea. This in itself is not so amazing, but the Red Sea is reputed to have the second best coral reefs in the world, second only to the Great Barrier Reef. And it really was very spectacular. My only wish is that I knew more about fish so I could name a few of the things I saw. But I can't, so I won't.
Then, the day got even better. See, the plan that had been foiled was to climb Mount Sinai and see the sunset, which hadn't ended up happening. What DID end up happening instead was climbing it at night, for 3 hours, sleeping for an hour at the top, and seeing the sun RISE over the Sinai and Saudi Arabia. And that was quite extraordinary. No revelations, unfortunately, but it was interested following in Moses's footsteps. Additionally, the monastery near the bottom of the mountain houses the descendant of the burning bush (yes, THAT burning bush). I was a little bit disappointed with it, as it wouldn't light no matter how hard I tried. So I settled with taking a photo, which is attached.
Following a day of recovery where I made up the lost hours of sleep, I said goodbye to Egypt. And now, I sit in an internet cafe in Aqaba, Jordan. Please, don't ask me about the 'two hour' journey from Dahab to here. It will be a sore point for many days.
I plan on posting an Egypt retrospective shortly, but at the moment I am too tired. After dinner, I may feel happier, but I will probably not post again for a day or two. Tomorrow I head to Petra for the day, which is meant to be amazing. But I'll keep you posted.
Hope Brisbane is still the party centre of the southern hemisphere.
Nick
Friday, August 10, 2007
When a man loves a pharmacist
Oh how I wish I wasn’t so stubborn. My last post witnessed me frolicking in the Egyptian sands, dancing as water cascaded around me, thrown from pitchers born aloft by belly dancing women. Or so I remember it. Since then has been significantly more difficult, but I have gained some solid abs for my effort. Why they don’t build busses with toilets is beyond me, especially when these busses travel for 5 hours between rest breaks. But more on that later.
Middle Egypt was significantly different from its Upper, southern neighbour. Where Upper Egypt had tourists, heat, scams, attractions and over-zealous street merchants, Middle Egypt had heterogenous friendly non-English speakers and a calm only broken by the sound of my feet galloping to the nearest toilet. Oh, and it had police. The same friendly, non-English speaking, superfluous police that are everywhere else in Egypt. Except that these ones have the order to escort you whenever you leave your hotel. This is amusing for a little while, but soon quite frustrating as they double the time it takes to do anything. It took me an hour and a half to assemble breakfast from the streets around my hotel, as my entourage insisted knowing where I was going, why, to where, for what purpose, how long I would be, whether I would need any help, before giving it to me anyway, and trying to translate everything from me to the local street vendor. Remember, the cops spoke as little English as the store-holder. Go figure.
The best part of the rest of that adventure was spending a day with two novices at the White Monastery outside Sohag (Emad and Atef). These guys were famously hospitable. They paid for everything for me, including a boat up and down the Nile for a while. We gate-crashed a Coptic engagement ceremony, but nobody seemed to mind, including the future bride and groom (see picture). I was sitting up with the priests.
Got back to Cairo and wasted a day trying to get a Turkish visa, before being told that they could not issue me one as I’m not Egyptian, but that I can get one at the border. However I had to wait for an Embassy official to tell me this (after the 2-hour wait) as nobody else spoke English.
I’ve bid farewell to Cairo and am now at Port Sa’id, the northern entry to the Suez Canal. In 2 days I’ll head to the Sinai, but for now I’m just going to relax here and in Suez. And bask in the radiance that is antibiotics.
Middle Egypt was significantly different from its Upper, southern neighbour. Where Upper Egypt had tourists, heat, scams, attractions and over-zealous street merchants, Middle Egypt had heterogenous friendly non-English speakers and a calm only broken by the sound of my feet galloping to the nearest toilet. Oh, and it had police. The same friendly, non-English speaking, superfluous police that are everywhere else in Egypt. Except that these ones have the order to escort you whenever you leave your hotel. This is amusing for a little while, but soon quite frustrating as they double the time it takes to do anything. It took me an hour and a half to assemble breakfast from the streets around my hotel, as my entourage insisted knowing where I was going, why, to where, for what purpose, how long I would be, whether I would need any help, before giving it to me anyway, and trying to translate everything from me to the local street vendor. Remember, the cops spoke as little English as the store-holder. Go figure.
The best part of the rest of that adventure was spending a day with two novices at the White Monastery outside Sohag (Emad and Atef). These guys were famously hospitable. They paid for everything for me, including a boat up and down the Nile for a while. We gate-crashed a Coptic engagement ceremony, but nobody seemed to mind, including the future bride and groom (see picture). I was sitting up with the priests.
Got back to Cairo and wasted a day trying to get a Turkish visa, before being told that they could not issue me one as I’m not Egyptian, but that I can get one at the border. However I had to wait for an Embassy official to tell me this (after the 2-hour wait) as nobody else spoke English.
I’ve bid farewell to Cairo and am now at Port Sa’id, the northern entry to the Suez Canal. In 2 days I’ll head to the Sinai, but for now I’m just going to relax here and in Suez. And bask in the radiance that is antibiotics.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
Nicholas of Nazareth
Everything in Egypt is big. Big monuments, big festivals, big train rides, big touts, big water consumption or, alternatively, big dehydration.
A catalogue of today's beverage intake:
4 1/2 litres of water
660 ml of coke
500 ml tea
500 ml of karkaday
300ml mango juice
300 ml tamarin juice
It's now 7:30pm (ish), so the day's not yet over.
Yes, Luxor is hot, as Aswan (Egypt's southern most centre) was a few days ago. It's been 5 days since my last confession. I ended my trip to Alexandria with a bus trip back in the direction of Cairo on which nobody else spoke English. Slap-dash Arabic saw me somehow arrive at my destination of Wadi Natrun monasteries, which had an air of calm I have not again experienced in Egypt. I completed the trip to Cairo and hung out with some other travellers, which was the first time I'd done this since setting out. The next day I got to the Cities of the Dead in Cairo; two massive cemeteries that also house some 500 000 people. I've attached a photo.
That evening I set out on the Nile valley leg of the Egypt trip. After a 14-hour overnight train trip I arrived at Aswan in scorching heat. However I still managed to get to their "world-famous" bazaar, where every two steps (literally every 5) you are accosted to buy something, but with lines like 'hey, you dropped something', 'hey, can you help me write this letter in English', and other similar things designed to get you into their shop. This was a good introduction for the Luxor I am currently in.
Went to the Aswan sights: nothing special. On my way to Luxor on the 2nd I managed to cram in visits to Kom Ombo temple, which I think has the best position on the Nile of any I have yet seen, and Edfu temple (photo attached. The ants are people). Edfu was an astoundingly huge and meticulously detailed cult temple to Horus, fronted by a massive relief of Ramses II attacking some enemy or another. Ramses II was a bit of a meglomaniac, it seems, and his stuff is everywhere.
Yesterday I went to Abydos, which was good but not worth the effort of transport there and back (10 hours in the end). Today I saw Karnak temple, which apparently covers the area of 10 great cathedrals. The highlight is a hall containing 134 columns roughly the size of 20 people standing on each others' shoulders (photo). Big. I also saw the Valley of the Kings via the medium of donkey. In a strange twist of fate, I think I got more enjoyment out of the 4-hour mountainous donkey ride than the Valley. Cest la vie.
Tomorrow I head to Sohag, further down the Nile (north) on the 6:30am train. And now I go to watch belly dancers.
Nick
A catalogue of today's beverage intake:
4 1/2 litres of water
660 ml of coke
500 ml tea
500 ml of karkaday
300ml mango juice
300 ml tamarin juice
It's now 7:30pm (ish), so the day's not yet over.
Yes, Luxor is hot, as Aswan (Egypt's southern most centre) was a few days ago. It's been 5 days since my last confession. I ended my trip to Alexandria with a bus trip back in the direction of Cairo on which nobody else spoke English. Slap-dash Arabic saw me somehow arrive at my destination of Wadi Natrun monasteries, which had an air of calm I have not again experienced in Egypt. I completed the trip to Cairo and hung out with some other travellers, which was the first time I'd done this since setting out. The next day I got to the Cities of the Dead in Cairo; two massive cemeteries that also house some 500 000 people. I've attached a photo.
That evening I set out on the Nile valley leg of the Egypt trip. After a 14-hour overnight train trip I arrived at Aswan in scorching heat. However I still managed to get to their "world-famous" bazaar, where every two steps (literally every 5) you are accosted to buy something, but with lines like 'hey, you dropped something', 'hey, can you help me write this letter in English', and other similar things designed to get you into their shop. This was a good introduction for the Luxor I am currently in.
Went to the Aswan sights: nothing special. On my way to Luxor on the 2nd I managed to cram in visits to Kom Ombo temple, which I think has the best position on the Nile of any I have yet seen, and Edfu temple (photo attached. The ants are people). Edfu was an astoundingly huge and meticulously detailed cult temple to Horus, fronted by a massive relief of Ramses II attacking some enemy or another. Ramses II was a bit of a meglomaniac, it seems, and his stuff is everywhere.
Yesterday I went to Abydos, which was good but not worth the effort of transport there and back (10 hours in the end). Today I saw Karnak temple, which apparently covers the area of 10 great cathedrals. The highlight is a hall containing 134 columns roughly the size of 20 people standing on each others' shoulders (photo). Big. I also saw the Valley of the Kings via the medium of donkey. In a strange twist of fate, I think I got more enjoyment out of the 4-hour mountainous donkey ride than the Valley. Cest la vie.
Tomorrow I head to Sohag, further down the Nile (north) on the 6:30am train. And now I go to watch belly dancers.
Nick
Monday, July 30, 2007
Alexandria, the true city that never sleeps. Why oh why won't it sleep...
Marhaba,
Two notes to future Egyptian adventurers:
1. The people who are making kissing noises at you on the street. They want your attention, not your saliva. That almost ended badly.
2. Always call yourself 'Nicholas' and never 'Nick'. It would be like calling yourself 'Fuq' but not really knowing how to pronounce it properly. That also may have ended badly.
But in other news, much more adventuring has been had. The day after my last post, I went to some of the classic Egyptian sites in Cairo: the Giza pyramids, Saqqara, Memphis (Egypt, not US) and the Dashur pyramids.
Giza pyramids: "If another person offers me a f*({1#@ camel or a guide around the pyramids, I'm going to insert one into the other, and I havn't yet decided which" - Nick (Giza pyramids) The pyramids were huge. Whoever said they weren't was lying. They were almost as big as the scams people were trying to pull around them. I didn't go into any, as I had t get on with the day and regain some sanity. More on Giza pyramids on request.
Saqqara: Possibly my favourite pyramid. It is the stepped one you see in pictures. It's surrounded by a big funerary complex. Somehow it's more impressive than the ones at Giz. Maybe because there aren't any touts. Except the cops, but you come to expect them.
Memphis: A sad reflection of its former self. I wouldn't bother if you were traveling through. However it did have the biggest Ramses II statue I've ever seen.
Dashur pyramids: The bent one and the red one. They were both built by Snofru (sounds like the name of a horse, don't you think?). When they were most of the way up the bent one, it's thought the engineers got the feeling it might fall over, its walls being on a 54 degree angle and all. So they built the red one as well. Just for insurance. Crazy.
That brings me to Alexandria. It was the best of days, it was the worst of days. But I'll only mention the good parts, as it is still to early t recall the bad with clarity. I went for a long, long walk through Alexandria and stumbled upon a market that wet for ages. Everything about this market was infatuating, except the guy cutting up a cow with an axe. But I just brushed over that bit. I then sat down for a cup of tea (shai. Not chai.). After an hour and a half of taking to people who didn't want anything from me, half in Arabic, half in English and actually getting somewhere, I continued on my merry way. I sat and watched old guys playing dominoes in the streets for about half an hour. Then I went back to the hotel. Now, before I'd left, Em had made the suggestion of befriending kids, as they don't grow sick of you and love teaching you new words. Low and behold, the reception of the backpackers was full of kids. I've played cards with them every afternoon since. And I swear I won all their money fair and square.
Yesterday I got sick, which kind of overshadowed everything. It must have only been food poisoming though, because I'm fine today. Either way, I saw the old Roman theatre, which is a little overrated; the Alexandria National Museum, which is set in an old Italian mansion; tried to see the Royal Jewelery Museum, but it was closed; and then came the library.
It's not the biggest library in the world, but it is definately one of the most awe-inspiring. From the inside at least. I'll try and upload some photos. I doubt it's the centre of the world's knowledge (as the old one was), but it definately has fantastic architecture.
Today I saw Fort Qaitby (the place where the ancient lighthouse used to stand), the catacombs of Kom Esh-shoqafa and Pompey's Pillar. Of these, the catacombs were most exciting, but unfortunately we weren't allowed to take photos, so it can't be shared. Try and think of a well dug into the rock three storeys down, and then digging catacombs for about 150 graves and a chapel in many, many different rooms. Hewn into rock. I'm running out of synonyms for amazing.
This post is ridiculously long, so I'll leave it here. Hope Brisbane still exists.
Nick
Two notes to future Egyptian adventurers:
1. The people who are making kissing noises at you on the street. They want your attention, not your saliva. That almost ended badly.
2. Always call yourself 'Nicholas' and never 'Nick'. It would be like calling yourself 'Fuq' but not really knowing how to pronounce it properly. That also may have ended badly.
But in other news, much more adventuring has been had. The day after my last post, I went to some of the classic Egyptian sites in Cairo: the Giza pyramids, Saqqara, Memphis (Egypt, not US) and the Dashur pyramids.
Giza pyramids: "If another person offers me a f*({1#@ camel or a guide around the pyramids, I'm going to insert one into the other, and I havn't yet decided which" - Nick (Giza pyramids) The pyramids were huge. Whoever said they weren't was lying. They were almost as big as the scams people were trying to pull around them. I didn't go into any, as I had t get on with the day and regain some sanity. More on Giza pyramids on request.
Saqqara: Possibly my favourite pyramid. It is the stepped one you see in pictures. It's surrounded by a big funerary complex. Somehow it's more impressive than the ones at Giz. Maybe because there aren't any touts. Except the cops, but you come to expect them.
Memphis: A sad reflection of its former self. I wouldn't bother if you were traveling through. However it did have the biggest Ramses II statue I've ever seen.
Dashur pyramids: The bent one and the red one. They were both built by Snofru (sounds like the name of a horse, don't you think?). When they were most of the way up the bent one, it's thought the engineers got the feeling it might fall over, its walls being on a 54 degree angle and all. So they built the red one as well. Just for insurance. Crazy.
That brings me to Alexandria. It was the best of days, it was the worst of days. But I'll only mention the good parts, as it is still to early t recall the bad with clarity. I went for a long, long walk through Alexandria and stumbled upon a market that wet for ages. Everything about this market was infatuating, except the guy cutting up a cow with an axe. But I just brushed over that bit. I then sat down for a cup of tea (shai. Not chai.). After an hour and a half of taking to people who didn't want anything from me, half in Arabic, half in English and actually getting somewhere, I continued on my merry way. I sat and watched old guys playing dominoes in the streets for about half an hour. Then I went back to the hotel. Now, before I'd left, Em had made the suggestion of befriending kids, as they don't grow sick of you and love teaching you new words. Low and behold, the reception of the backpackers was full of kids. I've played cards with them every afternoon since. And I swear I won all their money fair and square.
Yesterday I got sick, which kind of overshadowed everything. It must have only been food poisoming though, because I'm fine today. Either way, I saw the old Roman theatre, which is a little overrated; the Alexandria National Museum, which is set in an old Italian mansion; tried to see the Royal Jewelery Museum, but it was closed; and then came the library.
It's not the biggest library in the world, but it is definately one of the most awe-inspiring. From the inside at least. I'll try and upload some photos. I doubt it's the centre of the world's knowledge (as the old one was), but it definately has fantastic architecture.
Today I saw Fort Qaitby (the place where the ancient lighthouse used to stand), the catacombs of Kom Esh-shoqafa and Pompey's Pillar. Of these, the catacombs were most exciting, but unfortunately we weren't allowed to take photos, so it can't be shared. Try and think of a well dug into the rock three storeys down, and then digging catacombs for about 150 graves and a chapel in many, many different rooms. Hewn into rock. I'm running out of synonyms for amazing.
This post is ridiculously long, so I'll leave it here. Hope Brisbane still exists.
Nick
Thursday, July 26, 2007
How to make a Cairo
First, take one Calcutta.
Next, remove the Indians and the Hindi.
Replace with Arabs and Arabic.
Serve hot.
Well it's just another sunny day in Cairo. Needless to say I arrived. I even took a video of the landing, but I don't think this internet cafe's hardware is up to the challenge of uploading it. I'll try another time.
Cairo is big. Really, really big. Somewhere around 25 million in one city. The result is quite incredible and leads you to fluctuate between loving it intensely and wishing it were just that little bit quieter. Walking around the streets is a fascinating experience. Perching for a rest on a seat that has been around since 1305 is a strange feeling, and something that I don't think can really be matched in Australia.
So far I have been to:
The Citadel - the focal point of the entire city. It was built by Salah Al-Din when he rose to power in the early second millennium. It was fortified shortly after it was built as part of the (successful) attempts to keep out Crusading Brits. It consists of a number of mosques, the police museum, a palace and a couple of other ridiculously old buildings. The most memorable part is the Mosque of Mohammad Ali (the King, not the boxer) in about 1850 (I think). I've attached a photo, which does little to capture the enormity and grandeur of the building. Its interior is breathtaking. Christians have nothing on this.
Islamic Cairo - an older quarter of the city, where streets are about 2 meters wide and packed, PACKED with markets. There are different sections for different things, but this is the place to come for everything that isn't food or electric.
Old Cairo - a bit of a disappointment, possibly because I'd just left a shop where I still don't know if I was ripped off or not. I may have been a little bit bitter, just to make sure. This is a really old part of the city where Coptic Christianity has many of its roots. A plethora of mini churches and other worshipping places, replete with beggars and street merchants.
The Egyptian Museum - Usually when you go to a museum and into the 'old stuff' area, you walk a bit between artifacts. Not so in Cairo. Imagine you are an eager bull in a stockyard of antiques from throughout the past 4 000 years. You now have some idea of me this morning in the museum. This place is packed to the brim and a little overflowing with Egyptian artifacts. I never want to see another stone with writing on it again, which is a shame considering I plan to go to the pyramids tomorrow.
So far, so good. For two day's avid traveling, I'm quite happy with my efforts. I'm not sick, the people are nice to foreigners, and my limited Arabic has helped even a little. We'll see if it holds.
Ma-Salamah,
Nick
Next, remove the Indians and the Hindi.
Replace with Arabs and Arabic.
Serve hot.
Well it's just another sunny day in Cairo. Needless to say I arrived. I even took a video of the landing, but I don't think this internet cafe's hardware is up to the challenge of uploading it. I'll try another time.
Cairo is big. Really, really big. Somewhere around 25 million in one city. The result is quite incredible and leads you to fluctuate between loving it intensely and wishing it were just that little bit quieter. Walking around the streets is a fascinating experience. Perching for a rest on a seat that has been around since 1305 is a strange feeling, and something that I don't think can really be matched in Australia.
So far I have been to:
The Citadel - the focal point of the entire city. It was built by Salah Al-Din when he rose to power in the early second millennium. It was fortified shortly after it was built as part of the (successful) attempts to keep out Crusading Brits. It consists of a number of mosques, the police museum, a palace and a couple of other ridiculously old buildings. The most memorable part is the Mosque of Mohammad Ali (the King, not the boxer) in about 1850 (I think). I've attached a photo, which does little to capture the enormity and grandeur of the building. Its interior is breathtaking. Christians have nothing on this.
Islamic Cairo - an older quarter of the city, where streets are about 2 meters wide and packed, PACKED with markets. There are different sections for different things, but this is the place to come for everything that isn't food or electric.
Old Cairo - a bit of a disappointment, possibly because I'd just left a shop where I still don't know if I was ripped off or not. I may have been a little bit bitter, just to make sure. This is a really old part of the city where Coptic Christianity has many of its roots. A plethora of mini churches and other worshipping places, replete with beggars and street merchants.
The Egyptian Museum - Usually when you go to a museum and into the 'old stuff' area, you walk a bit between artifacts. Not so in Cairo. Imagine you are an eager bull in a stockyard of antiques from throughout the past 4 000 years. You now have some idea of me this morning in the museum. This place is packed to the brim and a little overflowing with Egyptian artifacts. I never want to see another stone with writing on it again, which is a shame considering I plan to go to the pyramids tomorrow.
So far, so good. For two day's avid traveling, I'm quite happy with my efforts. I'm not sick, the people are nice to foreigners, and my limited Arabic has helped even a little. We'll see if it holds.
Ma-Salamah,
Nick
Monday, July 23, 2007
The god-father of Seoul
Hello hello,
I've arrived in Seoul, the capital of South Korea, for a six hour stop-over on the way to Cairo. Having already exhausted the duty free stores, I have turned my fate to the internet to keep me occupied before my flight. There are another few hours yet. I plan on taking off again at around 12:30am Brisbane time.
The temperature here is around 26 degrees, which is a nice change from Brisbane. However it is still a far cry from what I'll be dealing with in around twelve hours. Thus, I'm keeping my jacket on for the time being.
Unfortunately I packed my camera USB plug in my checked luggage, so no photos as of yet. But look out in the near future.
In sum, I have made it as far as South Korea. Here's to another safe flight.
Nick
I've arrived in Seoul, the capital of South Korea, for a six hour stop-over on the way to Cairo. Having already exhausted the duty free stores, I have turned my fate to the internet to keep me occupied before my flight. There are another few hours yet. I plan on taking off again at around 12:30am Brisbane time.
The temperature here is around 26 degrees, which is a nice change from Brisbane. However it is still a far cry from what I'll be dealing with in around twelve hours. Thus, I'm keeping my jacket on for the time being.
Unfortunately I packed my camera USB plug in my checked luggage, so no photos as of yet. But look out in the near future.
In sum, I have made it as far as South Korea. Here's to another safe flight.
Nick
Friday, July 13, 2007
The Odyssey
Welcome avid readers!
I've created this blog (short for 'web-log' for first-timers) to keep you all updated about my upcoming travels. This way I don't have to continually apologise for missing people out on an email list, save's me clogging up your email account and means that you can peruse it at your leisure if and when you want. I thought it was quite a nifty idea. Glad I didn't think of it.
As it stands, my (broad) itinerary is as follows:
23 July: Leave Brisbane int. airport and stop over in Seoul for a couple of hours. On to Cairo.
24 July: Arrive Cairo early morning, drop of my bags and start exploring.
3 weeks of exploring Egypt, going to Alexandria, an oasis or 2, a trip up the Nile to Aswan, across the Suez Canal to the Sinai.
14 August: leave Egypt and arrive at Aqaba in Jordan.
Roughly a week of traveling up the King's Highway through Jordan to the northern border
22 August: Cross into Syria and take a train to Damascus
2 weeks of travelling through Syria, ending up at the border to Turkey
3 September: Enter Turkey.
3 weeks in Turkey, travelling slowly towards Istanbul. Slowly.
24 September: Leave Istanbul on a train going west. Spend the next week winding my way to Prague (Praha) in the Czech Republic.
1 October: Start at Charles University.
That's a brief sketch of my plans. If you have any suggestions for things I absolutely must see/people I should meet up with/random other bits of information, feel free to post the as comments under this entry.
(Hopefully) speak to you all soon.
I've created this blog (short for 'web-log' for first-timers) to keep you all updated about my upcoming travels. This way I don't have to continually apologise for missing people out on an email list, save's me clogging up your email account and means that you can peruse it at your leisure if and when you want. I thought it was quite a nifty idea. Glad I didn't think of it.
As it stands, my (broad) itinerary is as follows:
23 July: Leave Brisbane int. airport and stop over in Seoul for a couple of hours. On to Cairo.
24 July: Arrive Cairo early morning, drop of my bags and start exploring.
3 weeks of exploring Egypt, going to Alexandria, an oasis or 2, a trip up the Nile to Aswan, across the Suez Canal to the Sinai.
14 August: leave Egypt and arrive at Aqaba in Jordan.
Roughly a week of traveling up the King's Highway through Jordan to the northern border
22 August: Cross into Syria and take a train to Damascus
2 weeks of travelling through Syria, ending up at the border to Turkey
3 September: Enter Turkey.
3 weeks in Turkey, travelling slowly towards Istanbul. Slowly.
24 September: Leave Istanbul on a train going west. Spend the next week winding my way to Prague (Praha) in the Czech Republic.
1 October: Start at Charles University.
That's a brief sketch of my plans. If you have any suggestions for things I absolutely must see/people I should meet up with/random other bits of information, feel free to post the as comments under this entry.
(Hopefully) speak to you all soon.
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