The weeks I spent in Israel and Jordan were a frenzy of activity; dipping in and out of the two countries, never in one spot for more than two nights. I have seen two deserts, the stark, cold Negev in southern Israel, and the majestic and magnificent Wadi Rum, in Jordan. There, I scrambled up a sand dune and raced back down, laughing and shouting, letting free the inner child. I drank Bedouin tea under the shade of a battered 4x4. I gazed upwards at huge rock formations that seem to launch upwards from a sea of sand. We watched a beautiful sunset followed by the appearance of the Milky Way in all its brilliance. With new and old friends, we built a fire in a cave and told stories, shared travel advice and roasted marshmallows in the embers. We slept under the twinkling stars in a Bedouin camp.
I explored the Ein Gedi and Dana nature reserves, oases in the otherwise stark and waterless landscape of the Middle East. Swimming in the Dead Sea, I embraced my inner tourist, watching as my legs bobbed hilariously up and down in the salty water. I visited the seaside cities of Eilat (Israel), Aqaba (Jordan), and Nuweiba (Egypt), wondering at the incredible differences in approach to Red Sea tourism. I can safely say I have recovered from my "Ruin-ing": a stop at Petra is enough to cure and awe any weary traveler. Exploring the vast expanse of carved stone you feel an affinity to the land, the people, and the history. And I have crossed my final Middle Eastern border into Egypt.
Here, I found my way to Paradise. The Sinai peninsula is a destination famed for its amazing diving in the Red Sea. As a result, numerous resort towns have popped up along the coastline, each equipped to take on a different type of tourist. I entered Egypt with the young, savvy and effervescent Freya, who is on her gap year before starting university in the fall. She has been to this region six times, so she knows who to talk to, where to go, and how to get there. It is quite a luxury. We took the "fast ferry" across from Aqaba to Nuweiba, which was meant to take one hour. It takes five. Even as blonde foreigners, with special treatment, the process was painful. Endless queuing through immigration and customs on either end, shuttling from port to ferry and out again, paperwork for visas, payment in American dollars, and a sudden concern for Swine Flu meant a security crackdown before arrival into Egypt and a two hour wait in the Nuweiba dock. Since it took so long, Freya and I decided to take a chance and spend the night in Tarabin, a sleepy seaside town just north of the port. We made our way to the Blue Bus Camp, a quaint beachside complex where we were given our own hut for the equivalent of $3 a night. It was lovely, but I realized with a twinge of disappointment that I'd be spending Thanksgiving in an empty tourist village.
Thanksgiving also falls this year on the night before Eid, the Muslim festival that occurs yearly after the pilgrims return from the Hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca). As a result, the already sleepy town was ghostly. It seemed like something out of an old Western movie - dusty deserted streets, old men smoking cigarettes outside their shops, the occasional wanderer (or camel) passing by. It was a far cry from the sights and smells of a North Eastern autumn, the traditions of pecan pie and turkey, the crunch of leaves underfoot and the smell of a warm fire. Celebrating seemed like an ambitious goal. Fortunately, I was armed with hefty ammunition: one small English pistol, keen to celebrate her first ever T-Giving, and one washed-out, hippy, guitar-playing, hash-smoking German who had been living in the area for a year. Their enthusiasm for partaking in my American tradition was exhilirating. Thomas, the German, claimed that simply had to go find the Americans living in town and see what we could muster up in the way of a feast. We wandered down to meet his friends, a couple who had relocated to Tarabin and opened an American coffee shop (and by coffee shop I simply mean a large outdoor patio covered with carpets and pillows). Though they couldn't help us with a turkey dinner, we took home a good old American cheesecake, purchase several bottles of wine, and were served African-style chicken for dinner at the camp. It was all very jolly and festive, and I appreciated the effort they made. The following day I returned to the American coffee shop for my first cup of brewed coffee since departure (the Middle East seems to have a small obsession with Nescafe... I have developed a taste for it, much to my chagrin), some fluffy pancakes (served with molasses instead of maple syrup!), and carrot cake. I had my fill of patriotism, and went back to camp a happy little American.
We left Tarabin yesterday for Dahab, famed as the "Phuket of the Middle East." A chilled out, backpacker's sanctuary, perfect for diving, snorkeling, sunbathing, smoking sheesha, drinking beer or merely vegetating in front of the computer for a couple hours. Here I've bumped into numerous groups I've met along the way - Santi, my early Israel travel companion, two Americans Freya and I met at Dana nature reserve, a lovely Scottish girl I met in Amman, Jordan, and an Australian couple I met in Jerusalem. More friends are joining me here next week. Freya is practically a local, with a network of friends in the area - she knows many of the local Bedouin and last night we had a wonderful evening with a long, luxurious dinner and drinks with these old friends and new.
I find that in these travels I like to be busy. Staying in one place is sometimes difficult, and moving on is part of the joy.But I am looking forward to this moment of calm before the storm that will ensue when exploring mainland Egypt over the next two weeks. In travel, the movement is part of the fun. Even if you're not doing anything, merely sitting on a train or waiting for a bus, you feel you're getting somewhere. You have a goal to accomplish. Similarly, these blog entries are little mental tasks that keep me sane. I only wish I was more frequent with them. Hopefully now that I have a little time I will be able to spend it writing. Thank you all for reading, I am able to check the numbers and realize how many hits I'm getting. I am amazed and thrilled by how many people are interested in my travels. I hope my journey continues to entertain.
Happy Thanksgiving, Happy Eid, and Happy times to you all from sandy, sunny Egypt!