Sinai

I am writing this posting while sitting in Tracy's living room in Edinburgh, having arrived in Scotland this afternoon for my first-ever visit to the UK. There's lots of fun and exciting travels ahead for me in the next month, but for now it's time for a bit of wistful reflection on my last few weeks in Israel.

In previous posting I talked a little bit about my semi-retired-bum lifestyle living in Tel Aviv, and of course you'll have seen my little iMovie showcasing some of my favourite minutes of the summer. My happy period of residence on the mattress on Alon's living room floor came to an end on Oct 15, when my friend Brenna arrived from the USA to do a little touring and visiting with me before I left the country. Brenna arrived at what Laura refers to as "the ass-crack of dawn", and after a few hours' rest we flew down to Eilat (the city on the southern tip of Israel, on the Red Sea coast) to begin our desert adventure. We were lucky to make our flight; the pre-check-in security people, having virtually waved me through after a few token questions (and a gushing exposition by my questioner about how much she loved her recent trip to New Zealand), decided that OF COURSE Brenna was suspicious and spent at least half an hour asking her a million questions, making her unpack her bags and inefficiently swabbing down everything in there two or three times to test for explosives. Once it was painfully evident that she wasn't a security risk, they spent another ten or so minutes asking more redundant questions and casually swabbing everything over again, before finally letting us through to run to our plane in the nick of time.

After a night in Eilat, we crossed the border into the Sinai peninsula and headed down to Dahab. The Lonely Planet's description of this town as "like the Koh Samui of Egypt" was spot on. Dahab is the independent traveller's relaxation paradise, and is known for its excellent diving and snorkelling sites, not to mention Nargila and milkshakes. In three days we packed in three dives and a dawn hike up Mount Sinai. This would have to be one of the most memorable multisensory experiences of the last six months. Here's how it goes: You take a minibus from Dahab at 11pm, speed through the dark desert night with a leadfooted Egyptian driver who does his seatbelt up every time you pass through a checkpoint and undoes it the moment the minibus has passed through. Finally after two hours, you arrive (at 1 am) in a dark carpark full of vans and coaches, where you are meet by young Bedouin man who says, gruffly, "my name Moses. Go this way". Switching on a flashlight, you follow him as he sets a brisk pace walking up the mountain path. Out in the desert, with no light pollution, the stars are incredible. In the darkness you can just make out the profile of the mountains around you, and you get a feeling that they are going to be incredible when you see them by daylight. As you make your way uphill through the darkness, camels suddenly appear, sitting patiently by the side of the path. Bedouin men ask "Camel? You want camel?". Nay, no camel for us! We hardened hikers scoff at the thought. But after passing dozens and dozens of camels, climbing ever upwards, you start to wonder, just how high is this mountain? And are we doing these camels out of a job? "You want camel? Good camel!" says another Bedouin. You start to feel a little bad for the camels. They probably are good camels. But, you came here to hike up the mountain, and hike it you will. After half an hour, you look back down and take in the the incredible sight of hundreds of flashlights snaking their way up the mountain, showing you how high you have already walked. How many people are climbing this mountain tonight? (You start to wonder). It looks like hundreds, is that possible? After about two hours, sweating, still in darkness, you reach the end of the "slope" part of the climb and begin the final ascent up the stairs to the top of the mountain. Hot and sweaty, step after step, huffing and puffing, you finally, finally reach the almost-top where a series of Bedouin huts await your arrival. "Come come, coffee tea chocolate chai! Blankets! Come inside, warm inside!". After warming yourself with a cup of tea, you climb the last few steps up to the top of the mountain and find a "spot" to wait for the sunrise.....



With the sun finally up, it's clear that the mountains really are as spectacular as they promised to be in the dark of the night...



And the parade of humanity starts to pur back down the mountain, this time taking the thigh-killing "other stairs" down to the famous Saint Katherine Monastery nestled at the base of the mountain...