Hello from the very most southernly point of Israel (Eilat) (i.e. as far from Haifa and Hezbollah as possible without entering Egypt). (Thanks for the concerns and emails--we're staying safe.)
And now backing up. After Jerusalem we went to Ein Gedi and Mazada. Ein Gedi is an Israeli national park on the Dead Sea, which, I should remind you, is the lowest place on Earth. The first evening there, which was luckily a full moon night, we went swimming (floating) in the Dead Sea, which has to be the greatest novelty that this country has. A local snack stand owner was so flattered that Sole, a bona fide Argentinean, raved about the quality of his alfajores (an Argentine cookie made of dulce de leche) that he offered us a ride up the mountain to the bar where we ate dinner--otherwise a 45-minute walk at that hour. The next day was Mazada, which is a palace/fortress that Herod the Great had built for defense, for entertaining, and for his winter retreating.
One of the most marvelous places I've been: enormous and made of enormous cut rocks, sitting on top of a 400-meter mountain. Not only is its construction magnificent, but so are its defenses, plumbing, and entertaining and recreation facilities (swimming pools [one of which Herod used to drown a few royal children that he decided he didn't want inheriting his thrown]). A great morning of hiking all over this fortress, but quite hot in the sun. Then the afternoon was back in Ein Gedi where we hiked up a wadi to a series of waterfalls and cooled off in one of the natural pools. Then a late afternoon bus back to Jerusalem where we stayed with our favorite Maronite sisters again!
On Wednesday (the 12th), we took a servis to Jordan. Servis isn't my misspelling of service, but rather the name of a small, privately-owned bus taxi. We were the only non-Arabs on the servis because the border the bus was taking us to does not issue visas so most foreigners opt for a different one, however, thanks to one of the four U.S. Jordanian consulates being conveniently located in Lathrup Village (Detroit), Michigan, we already had ours (and for $5 off regular price!). Going through the border was a noisy, confusing affair, with many cabbies surrounding us and shouting out numbers of Dinars that they'd accept to take us to Amman. A Japanese banker named Hirotaka saw on our faces that we hadn't done this before and told us to join his reasonably-priced bus, which we did gratefully. The same shenanigans ensued upon arriving Amman, though with more fervor: two guys almost got in a fist fight over who got the business of the two tourists. In the end, we declined all offers in order to have some peace, collect thoughts, and get some cold, hard Dinar cash.
We then hired our driver, Khamis, to take us around for the next few days. Khamis is 40 years old and has five kids with a sixth on the way, and drives a 31-year-old light green Mercedes-Benz, the dashboard of which he sometimes proudly pats and says "tank" with a grin. He learned what English he knows from his English-speaking customers, so you have to be an "active listener" when you speak with him. So we drove south from Amman to Petra along the King's Highway, stopping in the town of Karak (famous for its Crusader castle where Renauld de Chatillon used to delight in torturing his prisoners and throwing them off the walls into the valley 450 meters below; even going to the trouble of having a wooden box fastened over their heads so they wouldn't lose consciousness before hitting the ground). We ate dinner in Karak, too, at Restaurant Halaby, a tiny but delicious joint near the castle, which we had all to ourselves. We asked if the owner knew Jana, and he just smiled and served us more hummus and pita--not sure what that meant.
We arrived at Petra and the next day discovered why it's the tourist destination that it is: unbelievable 2100-year-old architecture, artwork and carvings in the sandstone by the Nabatean people. We hiked until exhausted...actually exhausted enough to ashamedly bow out of the "night hike" that we had signed up for. Hiking in Petra is definitely tiring because of the heat and the inclines, so the locals are with you at every step to offer you the chance to tap out and climb onto one of their "taxis," a horse, donkey, or camel, at a "good price for you, my friend". The next day we hiked just as much but off the tourist trail, through narrow wadis we had all to ourselves until we met up with a Norwegian high school history teacher who had turned back because of the difficulty he had encountered. He was interested in continuing with us, thinking that some of the drop-offs would be manageable with a group but not alone. He was right and the three of us had a nice hike together, discovering in one of the tombs the first cistern we had seen that still contained water. After our packed lunch (of awesome Arabic leftovers from dinner the previous night), we climbed to the High Place of Sacrifice, which came fully loaded as far as sacrificial altars go, with piping for the draining of blood. While up there all alone, a helicopter flew overhead, carrying, as we later learned, the prime minister of Japan. On the trail out of Petra we saw him with his entourage and an impressive number of Japanese media people.
Back at the hotel, we met Khamis and he took us down to Wadi Rum, a desert region from which the Bedouins hail. We stayed at a camp and enjoyed the desert sunset, powerful Turkish coffee, and Jordanian dancing around the fire (which I didn't really master). Then slept in a (rustic [nasty]) palm tent and woke up the next morning (Sat.) at 5:20am and took camels over to a great sunrise spot. We got back to camp, had breakfast, and then took a two-hour desert jeep tour with a 19-year-old kid named Kalem, who spoke almost no English, so I regretted forgetting our Jordan book which has a number of fun-to-learn-and-say Arabic phrases. After the tour, Khamis took us on our final Jordan journey: to the southern Israel/Jordan border. Another bureaucratic fiasco there and then to Eilat, a resort town on Israel's 12-kilometer stretch of Red Sea coastline. The town here is kind of cheesy, but the real beauty is underwater, and Sole and I discovered this today during our two hours of scuba-diving in the coral reef.
Tomorrow, we go back to Tel Aviv to dine with friends Hadar, Ran, Arielle and Ohad. And then Tuesday, we're off to Turkey for more adventures.
Love to all,
Peace in the Middle East,
Paul and Sole
P.S. Rereading this, I think the Middleeastern history details we're most interested in are the most gruesome...not sure what that says about us.
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