Cairo to Jerusalem by bicycle
Egyptian tourist police, who could be found at all of the usual tourist stops, are seen to the left along with their camels reporting for duty at sun up and ready for another day's work at the Great Pyramid at El Giz-eh (the spelling used in the mid-1800s), while a group of bicycle riders are about to begin their journey from Cairo, across the Sinai peninsula, stopping to climb Mt. Sinai, then north through Jordan and into Israel, up to its northern border in the Golan Heights, then turning south and passing through Nazareth and Jericho, ending in Jerusalem.
The Cairo latitude is about the same as the Florida panhandle, so making this three week trip in February and March of 2000 meant crossing the desert on bicycles would be comfortable, 70 degrees Fahrenheit during the day, cooler at night. In the mountains of Sinai and southern Jordan, the temperature was around 60 degrees during the day, cooler in the mornings and at night. The Jordan River valley was hotter. That entire valley, from the Sea of Galilee to the Dead Sea, is below sea level. The Sea of Galilee is about 400 feet below sea level, and the river drops another 900 feet in the 60+ miles to the Dead Sea. During March, the daytime temperature in the Jordan River valley was above 90 degrees. I cannot imagine what it is like in the summer. In ancient times, having a place in Jericho was probably similar to a northern US citizen of today having a place in Florida, the Gulf Coast or southern Arizona; a warm and pleasant climate to escape winter's chill.
When asked why I went on this trip, the best reason I could think of is "God sent me." It started when I received a mailing from Cycle The World, a company based in Portland, Oregon that I had never heard of, proposing a three week tour of Egypt, Jordan and Israel. The reasons not to go were immediate: daily riding distances averaged 70 miles, with some days much longer than the average and I had never covered more than 50 miles in a single day on my bike, so the daily rides seemed impossible for me. I did not speak or read Arabic, so communication was a potential problem. And, I had not encountered any mountains like those in the Sinai peninsula or Jordan, so here was yet another obstacle that I might not be able to overcome. But when I looked at the itinerary, how could I not go: Cairo, Mt. Sinai, the King's Highway in Jordan, Mt. Nebo, the Sea of Galilee, Nazareth, Jericho, Jerusalem and Bethlehem. There were so very many places that I wanted to see in that part of the world, and with Petra and a few other "must see" stops, the route was compelling. At the end of each day, we would be sleeping in hotels, no camping, so there was a second big plus. It did not take long for the "yes" vote to prevail over the many and very reasonable objections. Training began immediately.
Each rider supplied his or her own bike on this trip. Our group of 14 riders and one leader, Rick Bauman, met in New York City for an overnight flight to Cairo and the start of our adventure. We were allowed one suitcase for our three weeks of travel, one bike bag and one carry on bag. Everyone and all bags, save one, arrived safely in Cairo. One rider did not get his suitcase, so he was limited on clothing for the first few days until his bag arrived and caught up with our group. Tourism is an important segment of the Egyptian economy. The many friendly greetings at the Cairo airport, and throughout our journey, were refreshing and a reminder of the number of people who make a living from the Egyptian tourist industry. Our group of riders included one couple from San Francisco and the remainder were solo riders from New York to Alaska, most like me were over 50.
My trip began with a couple of "warnings" in New York City. I flew into LaGuarida airport and took a shuttle to Kennedy airport. The clerk selling a ticket for the shuttle asked where I was going and immediately volunteered that no one should be going on a bike trip to that part of the world. OK, I thought, we'll see. Then, as I was trying to get onto the shuttle with my suitcase and bike bag, one taxi driver was overly eager to pick up a fare and almost hit me. He stopped in time, then backed into my bike bag that I had left next to the shuttle while loading my suitcase. Fortunately, the bike and bike bag were not damaged. OK, that's warning number 2. I decided to be more vigilant, but also wondered if this trip was a mistake. You don't need to read any further to get the answer: it was not.
The Cairo latitude is about the same as the Florida panhandle, so making this three week trip in February and March of 2000 meant crossing the desert on bicycles would be comfortable, 70 degrees Fahrenheit during the day, cooler at night. In the mountains of Sinai and southern Jordan, the temperature was around 60 degrees during the day, cooler in the mornings and at night. The Jordan River valley was hotter. That entire valley, from the Sea of Galilee to the Dead Sea, is below sea level. The Sea of Galilee is about 400 feet below sea level, and the river drops another 900 feet in the 60+ miles to the Dead Sea. During March, the daytime temperature in the Jordan River valley was above 90 degrees. I cannot imagine what it is like in the summer. In ancient times, having a place in Jericho was probably similar to a northern US citizen of today having a place in Florida, the Gulf Coast or southern Arizona; a warm and pleasant climate to escape winter's chill.
When asked why I went on this trip, the best reason I could think of is "God sent me." It started when I received a mailing from Cycle The World, a company based in Portland, Oregon that I had never heard of, proposing a three week tour of Egypt, Jordan and Israel. The reasons not to go were immediate: daily riding distances averaged 70 miles, with some days much longer than the average and I had never covered more than 50 miles in a single day on my bike, so the daily rides seemed impossible for me. I did not speak or read Arabic, so communication was a potential problem. And, I had not encountered any mountains like those in the Sinai peninsula or Jordan, so here was yet another obstacle that I might not be able to overcome. But when I looked at the itinerary, how could I not go: Cairo, Mt. Sinai, the King's Highway in Jordan, Mt. Nebo, the Sea of Galilee, Nazareth, Jericho, Jerusalem and Bethlehem. There were so very many places that I wanted to see in that part of the world, and with Petra and a few other "must see" stops, the route was compelling. At the end of each day, we would be sleeping in hotels, no camping, so there was a second big plus. It did not take long for the "yes" vote to prevail over the many and very reasonable objections. Training began immediately.
Each rider supplied his or her own bike on this trip. Our group of 14 riders and one leader, Rick Bauman, met in New York City for an overnight flight to Cairo and the start of our adventure. We were allowed one suitcase for our three weeks of travel, one bike bag and one carry on bag. Everyone and all bags, save one, arrived safely in Cairo. One rider did not get his suitcase, so he was limited on clothing for the first few days until his bag arrived and caught up with our group. Tourism is an important segment of the Egyptian economy. The many friendly greetings at the Cairo airport, and throughout our journey, were refreshing and a reminder of the number of people who make a living from the Egyptian tourist industry. Our group of riders included one couple from San Francisco and the remainder were solo riders from New York to Alaska, most like me were over 50.
My trip began with a couple of "warnings" in New York City. I flew into LaGuarida airport and took a shuttle to Kennedy airport. The clerk selling a ticket for the shuttle asked where I was going and immediately volunteered that no one should be going on a bike trip to that part of the world. OK, I thought, we'll see. Then, as I was trying to get onto the shuttle with my suitcase and bike bag, one taxi driver was overly eager to pick up a fare and almost hit me. He stopped in time, then backed into my bike bag that I had left next to the shuttle while loading my suitcase. Fortunately, the bike and bike bag were not damaged. OK, that's warning number 2. I decided to be more vigilant, but also wondered if this trip was a mistake. You don't need to read any further to get the answer: it was not.
Days 1 and 2, travel to Cairo, Egypt
our group, dinner at Meridian Pyramids Hotel
I flew from Indianapolis to New York City and met up with our group at Kennedy International Airport in the afternoon. Later that evening, our group left New York City on an overnight flight to Cairo. With the 10 hour flight time and time zone change, we arrived in Cairo about 3 pm local time the next day. The descent into the Cairo airport revealed a world vastly different from Indiana and the Midwest, where we have ample water and lots of grass, trees, rivers and streams. The view of Cairo and surrounding territory was almost all desert brown. There were a few, very few actually, green "circles" which revealed a circular irrigation system at work. We landed safely and cleared customs without any problems. The bus was waiting to take us to the Meridian Pyramids Hotel, which was near the great pyramids, south of Cairo.
Our hotel was about 2 miles from the pyramids and the hotel check in process went without a hitch. After everyone was settled in and rested for a while, our bus was ready and we went to see a sound and light show at the pyramids that began shortly after dark. A few of us decided to walk back to the hotel, since it was so close. We then had a buffet dinner at the hotel and it was a great start to the Egypt experience; the food was plentiful, there was a wide selection and it was all very good. I saw an attractive swimming pool out the dining room window, but did not get to use it during this short stay.
The lobby was just off the dining room and during dinner we heard, then I left and watched, a part of an Egyptian wedding ceremony. The bride and groom, in white wedding dress and tuxedo, stood stoically in the middle of a circle of 20 musicians (2 horns, 1 bagpipe, 6 tambourines and 11 drums). There were 3 women on each side of the bride and groom holding candles. The young couple and candle holders stood very still while the musicians vigorously played for the 25 minutes that I watched. All of this was being recorded on film. In the balcony overlooking this ceremony, I spotted what I thought were the proud parents of the bride and groom and other wedding party members or family members. It was an impressive ceremony.
Our hotel was about 2 miles from the pyramids and the hotel check in process went without a hitch. After everyone was settled in and rested for a while, our bus was ready and we went to see a sound and light show at the pyramids that began shortly after dark. A few of us decided to walk back to the hotel, since it was so close. We then had a buffet dinner at the hotel and it was a great start to the Egypt experience; the food was plentiful, there was a wide selection and it was all very good. I saw an attractive swimming pool out the dining room window, but did not get to use it during this short stay.
The lobby was just off the dining room and during dinner we heard, then I left and watched, a part of an Egyptian wedding ceremony. The bride and groom, in white wedding dress and tuxedo, stood stoically in the middle of a circle of 20 musicians (2 horns, 1 bagpipe, 6 tambourines and 11 drums). There were 3 women on each side of the bride and groom holding candles. The young couple and candle holders stood very still while the musicians vigorously played for the 25 minutes that I watched. All of this was being recorded on film. In the balcony overlooking this ceremony, I spotted what I thought were the proud parents of the bride and groom and other wedding party members or family members. It was an impressive ceremony.
Day 3, our first day in Cairo, tourists
at the pyramids
Today we were typical tourists. We had a wonderful buffet breakfast at the hotel, then our bus arrived, along with an English speaking Egyptian guide and we were off for the day. From 9 am until we returned at 7 pm, we saw Cairo and experienced its traffic. There are wide boulevards, wide streets, narrow streets and dirt roads in that city of 18 million. Those boulevards and streets are choked with cars, trucks, tour buses, a few horse drawn carts and pedestrians. Most surprising was the near total absence of traffic signals. When a 6 lane boulevard came to an intersection with a 4 lane road, the drivers somehow worked through the confusion and kept going.
First stop was the Sphinx and pyramids, where we were free to walk around, take pictures or do whatever. The smallest of the three pyramids can be entered by tourists and that was interesting. Down a small passage, where you had to stoop over, opening into a very large room, maybe 40 feet by 25 feet and over 30 feet high. The lines of the stone floor, walls and ceiling were as straight and smooth as any built today, and the walls and floor met at 90 degree angles. The builders of the pyramids were as skilled as the builders of today. After the pyramids, we had lunch at a local restaurant, then off to the Egyptian National Museum and its very impressive display of ancient artifacts. I thought the gift shop at the museum would be a great place to pick up a few souvenirs, but it was modest compared to what you find in a similar American museum. Next, we stopped at a shop making papyrus, creating artworks on it and selling them to tourists. Finally, we visited a bazaar, that went on for blocks and blocks. Back at the hotel around 7 pm and we had another excellent buffet dinner. It was then time to take the bikes out of the bags, put them together and be ready to start riding the next morning.
First stop was the Sphinx and pyramids, where we were free to walk around, take pictures or do whatever. The smallest of the three pyramids can be entered by tourists and that was interesting. Down a small passage, where you had to stoop over, opening into a very large room, maybe 40 feet by 25 feet and over 30 feet high. The lines of the stone floor, walls and ceiling were as straight and smooth as any built today, and the walls and floor met at 90 degree angles. The builders of the pyramids were as skilled as the builders of today. After the pyramids, we had lunch at a local restaurant, then off to the Egyptian National Museum and its very impressive display of ancient artifacts. I thought the gift shop at the museum would be a great place to pick up a few souvenirs, but it was modest compared to what you find in a similar American museum. Next, we stopped at a shop making papyrus, creating artworks on it and selling them to tourists. Finally, we visited a bazaar, that went on for blocks and blocks. Back at the hotel around 7 pm and we had another excellent buffet dinner. It was then time to take the bikes out of the bags, put them together and be ready to start riding the next morning.
Day 4 riding Cairo to Suez
looking east towards the Sinai peninsula
After another fine breakfast buffet at the hotel, we loaded our suitcases and bike bags onto a truck that would deliver them to Suez, got on our bikes and rode to the pyramids for a group photo. After that, riders had a choice; ride your bike through Cairo and on to Suez, or get on the bus and ride it to the east side of Cairo, then begin riding your bike to Suez. Since it was Friday, the holy day of Islam, the traffic would not be as frenetic as we had seen on the previous day. Some took the first option, and the strong riders were self identified. Riding through Cairo made their first day almost 100 miles of riding. I opted to take the bus through Cairo, while wondering if I was up to riding the entire distance to Suez.
The stretch of the Arabian desert between Cairo and Suez is not very pretty; a 4 lane divided highway with little traffic, lots of trash along the road, power lines obstructing almost every photo opportunity, very few cross streets or signs of civilization, no plant life at all and, to top it off, we passed a dead camel by the road and I realized there were no birds of prey or animals to dispose of that carcass. Somewhere along this highway stretch in the desert, we saw a badly damaged, inoperable Puegot vehicle, lodged in the sand dividing the highway. On investigation, we found a local who had made this car into a temporary home. It happens in Egypt as well as America.
Our destination was the Summer Palace Hotel (poorly named for this under impressive lodging, many of us thought). It sat on a finger of land protruding into the water, with the end of the Gulf of Suez on the west side of this finger of land and the end of the Gulf of Suez and beginning of the Suez Canal on the east side. I had trouble finding it (the hand drawn daily route maps presented challenges on this and other days). This being Friday evening, the streets were as deserted as you would find in the typical downtown American city on a Sunday evening. I spotted a tourist policeman, they wear a distinctive uniform with a patch that says "Tourist Police" in English and Arabic. He could not or would not speak English and could not or would not read my English-Arabic dictionary when I pointed to the words "hotel" or "summer" or "palace." Working my way east and south through the city, I eventually found the water. I then rode in that area until I found the hotel. I rode over 80 miles today and was beat from the longest bike ride of my life. But it was great to be in Egypt! A shower, a little rest, followed by a nice dinner and I was ready for more.
The stretch of the Arabian desert between Cairo and Suez is not very pretty; a 4 lane divided highway with little traffic, lots of trash along the road, power lines obstructing almost every photo opportunity, very few cross streets or signs of civilization, no plant life at all and, to top it off, we passed a dead camel by the road and I realized there were no birds of prey or animals to dispose of that carcass. Somewhere along this highway stretch in the desert, we saw a badly damaged, inoperable Puegot vehicle, lodged in the sand dividing the highway. On investigation, we found a local who had made this car into a temporary home. It happens in Egypt as well as America.
Our destination was the Summer Palace Hotel (poorly named for this under impressive lodging, many of us thought). It sat on a finger of land protruding into the water, with the end of the Gulf of Suez on the west side of this finger of land and the end of the Gulf of Suez and beginning of the Suez Canal on the east side. I had trouble finding it (the hand drawn daily route maps presented challenges on this and other days). This being Friday evening, the streets were as deserted as you would find in the typical downtown American city on a Sunday evening. I spotted a tourist policeman, they wear a distinctive uniform with a patch that says "Tourist Police" in English and Arabic. He could not or would not speak English and could not or would not read my English-Arabic dictionary when I pointed to the words "hotel" or "summer" or "palace." Working my way east and south through the city, I eventually found the water. I then rode in that area until I found the hotel. I rode over 80 miles today and was beat from the longest bike ride of my life. But it was great to be in Egypt! A shower, a little rest, followed by a nice dinner and I was ready for more.
Day 5 riding Suez to a place along the Gulf of Suez
on a barge, about to cross the Suez Canal
There was a loud party at the Summer Palace Hotel during the night, and it woke me up around midnight, 2 am and again at 3 am. Then, at 5 am, I was awakened to the Muslim call to prayer. I did not hear the loudspeakers on the mosques in our Cairo hotel, but that was not true in Suez. After breakfast, we loaded our suitcases and returned them to the truck and it was off for the day. There is a tunnel under the Suez Canal, one lane in each direction and heavily traveled. Our leader arranged a police escort for our group, two cars, one in front of the riders and one behind for our safety. We later learned that the police escort did not show up, so Rick used the support vehicles as the barrier between the bike riders and the traffic.
For reasons unknown to 5 of us, the group left earlier than we had been told, so when we got to the assigned meeting spot in our hotel parking lot, one vehicle was there, supposedly to guide us to the group. Through some failure of language or whatever, that driver did not take us to the assigned spot. Instead, we were directed to follow part of the way through the city of Suez, which was very busy with traffic, pedestrians and activity on this Saturday morning, then our driver-guide waved us on, as if we knew where to go, and drove off. We were lost, and worse, the other 4 riders were very strong. So, we had 4 strong riders in a pack ahead (and almost out of sight) and me struggling behind. As we were trying to find our way to the tunnel and some were running out of water, the fast group stopped at a shop for water refills. [Everyone drank bottled water in Egypt and Jordan] At that moment, 3 teenage Egyptian boys on racing bikes went past. One of our stronger riders took off and caught up with them, explained our situation and they agreed to lead us to the Sinai. Thank you for another kindness by Egyptians. Before reaching the tunnel, we arrived a place where a barge takes vehicles across the Suez Canal, so we got on the barge and across we went. The boys were thanked and continued on their training ride and we were off to our destination, a new resort called the Moon Beach Resort.
The road on the west side of the Sinai peninsula is an undulating, paved, two lane road. The 5 of us stragglers started riding together, but it was not long before the 4 stronger riders moved ahead; I could see them when I reached the crest of each hill. It did not take long before they were so far ahead that I could no longer see them when I crested a hill. But, the destination should be easy to find; according to my map for today, it was straight ahead on this road, on my right and facing the Gulf of Suez. After a few miles, I encountered a military road block, which I was told to expect in some places in the Sinai. The officer in charge saw my bike was not loaded with gear, so he knew there was one or more others, or a vehicle, with the gear. He asked, in very good English, where the others were and I immediately told him that they were all ahead of me, I was the last of our biking group. He responded by telling me that I was the first bike rider he had seen today. All sorts of things went through my head at that moment. Am I lost? Did I miss a turn off? Is the map correct? Is he telling the truth? Do I need to offer money? I knew that most of our group left before the 5 of us did, that they had to cross the Suez Canal well ahead of us and that the 4 strong riders I started with were well ahead of me too. How could I possibly be the first rider of the day to reach this checkpoint? I wondered if he was expecting a bribe, and if so, how much to pass the military checkpoint? He took my passport and went into the office, while I waited at the gate, with young men in uniform who carried guns and, I assumed, would and could use them. A short while later, the officer returned with my passport. He had determined that I was legally in Egypt, but he continued to insist that I was the first bike rider he had seen today. His words and actions told me that a bribe was not expected, but we were both mystified by my "winning" a race to this checkpoint in the desert. As we stood there wondering what to do next, one of the support vehicles drove up, followed by the entire bicycling group. Our Egyptian guide got out of the vehicle, spoke a few words in Arabic to the officer and all was well. I learned that there is a spot on the west shore of the Sinai peninsula where tradition says that that Moses and the Israelis crossed to reach the Sinai peninsula. The Egyptian government has made made this "Springs of Moses" into a tourist stop. Our entire group and both support vehicles stopped there. I rode right past the turn off to this spot, and do not remember seeing a sign for the turn off, although signs in Arabic did not hold my attention.
The road we traveled after the checkpoint was busy with construction activity. In a stretch of perhaps 30 miles, we passed 40 or more hotels/resorts, some completed and others under construction. I learned that the Egyptian government was trying to make this west shore of the Gulf of Suez an attractive tourist destination. Our evening's destination was one of those new places, and it was very nice indeed. A note about Egyptian politeness: it is rude to say "no" to tourists. When one of our group asked if they had a swimming pool at the resort, the answer was "yes." He then asked, "where is it?" The answer was "next year." That question and answer were repeated a few more times before our American guest understood that there would be no swimming in a pool tonight. Today I rode over 90 miles and felt it. With 80+ miles on day one and 90+ miles on day two, I wondered if I would collapse before too long. The shower, good food and bed were very welcome at this new resort.
For reasons unknown to 5 of us, the group left earlier than we had been told, so when we got to the assigned meeting spot in our hotel parking lot, one vehicle was there, supposedly to guide us to the group. Through some failure of language or whatever, that driver did not take us to the assigned spot. Instead, we were directed to follow part of the way through the city of Suez, which was very busy with traffic, pedestrians and activity on this Saturday morning, then our driver-guide waved us on, as if we knew where to go, and drove off. We were lost, and worse, the other 4 riders were very strong. So, we had 4 strong riders in a pack ahead (and almost out of sight) and me struggling behind. As we were trying to find our way to the tunnel and some were running out of water, the fast group stopped at a shop for water refills. [Everyone drank bottled water in Egypt and Jordan] At that moment, 3 teenage Egyptian boys on racing bikes went past. One of our stronger riders took off and caught up with them, explained our situation and they agreed to lead us to the Sinai. Thank you for another kindness by Egyptians. Before reaching the tunnel, we arrived a place where a barge takes vehicles across the Suez Canal, so we got on the barge and across we went. The boys were thanked and continued on their training ride and we were off to our destination, a new resort called the Moon Beach Resort.
The road on the west side of the Sinai peninsula is an undulating, paved, two lane road. The 5 of us stragglers started riding together, but it was not long before the 4 stronger riders moved ahead; I could see them when I reached the crest of each hill. It did not take long before they were so far ahead that I could no longer see them when I crested a hill. But, the destination should be easy to find; according to my map for today, it was straight ahead on this road, on my right and facing the Gulf of Suez. After a few miles, I encountered a military road block, which I was told to expect in some places in the Sinai. The officer in charge saw my bike was not loaded with gear, so he knew there was one or more others, or a vehicle, with the gear. He asked, in very good English, where the others were and I immediately told him that they were all ahead of me, I was the last of our biking group. He responded by telling me that I was the first bike rider he had seen today. All sorts of things went through my head at that moment. Am I lost? Did I miss a turn off? Is the map correct? Is he telling the truth? Do I need to offer money? I knew that most of our group left before the 5 of us did, that they had to cross the Suez Canal well ahead of us and that the 4 strong riders I started with were well ahead of me too. How could I possibly be the first rider of the day to reach this checkpoint? I wondered if he was expecting a bribe, and if so, how much to pass the military checkpoint? He took my passport and went into the office, while I waited at the gate, with young men in uniform who carried guns and, I assumed, would and could use them. A short while later, the officer returned with my passport. He had determined that I was legally in Egypt, but he continued to insist that I was the first bike rider he had seen today. His words and actions told me that a bribe was not expected, but we were both mystified by my "winning" a race to this checkpoint in the desert. As we stood there wondering what to do next, one of the support vehicles drove up, followed by the entire bicycling group. Our Egyptian guide got out of the vehicle, spoke a few words in Arabic to the officer and all was well. I learned that there is a spot on the west shore of the Sinai peninsula where tradition says that that Moses and the Israelis crossed to reach the Sinai peninsula. The Egyptian government has made made this "Springs of Moses" into a tourist stop. Our entire group and both support vehicles stopped there. I rode right past the turn off to this spot, and do not remember seeing a sign for the turn off, although signs in Arabic did not hold my attention.
The road we traveled after the checkpoint was busy with construction activity. In a stretch of perhaps 30 miles, we passed 40 or more hotels/resorts, some completed and others under construction. I learned that the Egyptian government was trying to make this west shore of the Gulf of Suez an attractive tourist destination. Our evening's destination was one of those new places, and it was very nice indeed. A note about Egyptian politeness: it is rude to say "no" to tourists. When one of our group asked if they had a swimming pool at the resort, the answer was "yes." He then asked, "where is it?" The answer was "next year." That question and answer were repeated a few more times before our American guest understood that there would be no swimming in a pool tonight. Today I rode over 90 miles and felt it. With 80+ miles on day one and 90+ miles on day two, I wondered if I would collapse before too long. The shower, good food and bed were very welcome at this new resort.
Day 6 riding Moon Beach Resort to Oasis of Feiran
anyone read Arabic? Do I go straight or turn left?
Today was another planned day of 90 miles of riding, and I was determined not to get lost or otherwise add to those miles. After another fine buffet breakfast and loading of suitcases on the support vehicle, riders had their maps and were free to depart. As usual, two rest stops were scheduled for the day and in between a lunch stop was planned. After lunch, I was riding alone when a new "problem" presented itself. Our maps showed that we needed to make a left turn off the main road by the Gulf of Suez and head inland, towards Mt. Sinai. The question to me became; to turn or not to turn? The signs were in Arabic, which I could not read. Was this the road I should turn onto, or is it the next turn off or a later one? All I knew for sure was that somewhere along this road where I was riding south, I needed to make a left turn, climb into the mountains and reach a place called the Oasis of Feiran, where we were to spend the night in a convent of the Greek Orthodox Church.
Today we met other bike riders who were on even more ambitious journeys than ours. In the morning, we met a young man from Holland, pedaling his fully loaded bike. He began his self contained ride in India, biked through Pakistan, Iran, Syria and Turkey. He was crossing the Sinai, heading towards the main part of Egypt on the African continent and on his way to Sudan. At the end of the day, when we reached the convent, 4 young people with fully loaded bikes from Leipzig, Germany saw our bus and wondered if they could camp on the grounds for the night. Their destination was Damascus, Syria. After the camping request was approved, Ralph Isenberg and I decided to pay for their dinner, and they joined us and shared the story of their journey. They and their parents liked the "new system" in the unified Germany. One reason; they are now allowed to travel to places other than Russia and Eastern Europe.
Our riding today showed much contrast: in the early part of the day, we rode along the Gulf of Suez past industrial Egypt. No resorts, finished or under construction. Instead, we were in the part of the Gulf of Suez with oil drilling rigs in the water, a refinery on shore and working towns, full of people who support the oil industry. This turned out to be a blessing for one of our riders whose bike broke and needed welding. That type of help was easily located in this part of Egypt and his bike was in good working order the next morning, and stayed that way for the remainder of the trip. Once we turned inland, we began climbing and the views changed. In some respects, the Sinai desert was similar to the American southwest, with 95% of the vegetation removed. In other respects, it was unique to Sinai with the minerals in the mountains giving off distinct colors and different shading as the day passed and the shadows grew.
We reached the convent and found it to be neat, quiet and, with its groves of organized lemon trees, a sharp contrast to the poor towns we passed through today. Dinner was simple, but good. There were 5 nuns living in this convent, and one young woman, wearing a Philadelphia Eagles sweatshirt, who travels back and forth between Greece and the Oasis of Fieran, trying to determine if a nun's life is for her. As we visited with her, it struck me that she is very involved with today's world and did not seem like a good candidate for the life of nun in the desert of Sinai. I wondered why this convent was located in this small Egyptian town and the answer was simple. Mt. Sinai, where Moses received his messages from God, is less than 40 miles away. There is nothing but desert between this oasis and Mt. Sinai, but at the Oasis of Fieran, there were palm trees, bushes and obviously water. Tradition holds that this is where the Israelis camped when Moses ascended Mt. Sinai. It certainly makes sense, if you consider the logistics of finding food and water for the large number of people who left Egypt. At the top of a hill across the road from the entrance to the convent, we could see the remains of a Crusader era castle. If I had the time and energy, it would have been an interesting place to visit during our short stay in the Oasis of Fieran.
Today we met other bike riders who were on even more ambitious journeys than ours. In the morning, we met a young man from Holland, pedaling his fully loaded bike. He began his self contained ride in India, biked through Pakistan, Iran, Syria and Turkey. He was crossing the Sinai, heading towards the main part of Egypt on the African continent and on his way to Sudan. At the end of the day, when we reached the convent, 4 young people with fully loaded bikes from Leipzig, Germany saw our bus and wondered if they could camp on the grounds for the night. Their destination was Damascus, Syria. After the camping request was approved, Ralph Isenberg and I decided to pay for their dinner, and they joined us and shared the story of their journey. They and their parents liked the "new system" in the unified Germany. One reason; they are now allowed to travel to places other than Russia and Eastern Europe.
Our riding today showed much contrast: in the early part of the day, we rode along the Gulf of Suez past industrial Egypt. No resorts, finished or under construction. Instead, we were in the part of the Gulf of Suez with oil drilling rigs in the water, a refinery on shore and working towns, full of people who support the oil industry. This turned out to be a blessing for one of our riders whose bike broke and needed welding. That type of help was easily located in this part of Egypt and his bike was in good working order the next morning, and stayed that way for the remainder of the trip. Once we turned inland, we began climbing and the views changed. In some respects, the Sinai desert was similar to the American southwest, with 95% of the vegetation removed. In other respects, it was unique to Sinai with the minerals in the mountains giving off distinct colors and different shading as the day passed and the shadows grew.
We reached the convent and found it to be neat, quiet and, with its groves of organized lemon trees, a sharp contrast to the poor towns we passed through today. Dinner was simple, but good. There were 5 nuns living in this convent, and one young woman, wearing a Philadelphia Eagles sweatshirt, who travels back and forth between Greece and the Oasis of Fieran, trying to determine if a nun's life is for her. As we visited with her, it struck me that she is very involved with today's world and did not seem like a good candidate for the life of nun in the desert of Sinai. I wondered why this convent was located in this small Egyptian town and the answer was simple. Mt. Sinai, where Moses received his messages from God, is less than 40 miles away. There is nothing but desert between this oasis and Mt. Sinai, but at the Oasis of Fieran, there were palm trees, bushes and obviously water. Tradition holds that this is where the Israelis camped when Moses ascended Mt. Sinai. It certainly makes sense, if you consider the logistics of finding food and water for the large number of people who left Egypt. At the top of a hill across the road from the entrance to the convent, we could see the remains of a Crusader era castle. If I had the time and energy, it would have been an interesting place to visit during our short stay in the Oasis of Fieran.
Day 7 riding Oasis of Fieran to Mt. Sinai
Today was, thankfully, a short day of riding, less than 40 miles from the Oasis of Fieran to St. Katherine's monastery at the base of Mt. Sinai. While it was short, it was uphill all the way and into a strong headwind to boot. We reached St. Katherine's monastery around lunch time. There is a large rental housing unit built next to the monastery, with a cafeteria to house and feed the crowds of tourists who visit. I reached my room, had a quick lunch and then rested because I was very tired. By mid afternoon, I felt better and wanted to climb to the summit of Mt. Sinai. There are 2 routes to the summit: a wide path where you can walk to the top, or hire a guide along with horse or camel who will follow this path and take you very close to the top. The second route is a path of "steps" of stone, laid by a monk as a penance.
I took the walking path and met up with Ernest Manewal of our group. On our way up, we encountered the 4 young Germans, who were hauling some gear to the summit where they planned to spend the night, sleeping somewhere at or near the 7,500 foot summit of this famous mountain. After three very long days of bike riding and one short day of bike riding, the summit was a challenge to reach. I stopped frequently and on one stop wondered if I could reach the top. Physical exhaustion was overtaking desire. Somehow I found the energy to continue and reached the summit. You cannot stand on the highest point: a very small Christian chapel and an equally small mosque occupy that spot.
There are entrepreneurs on the summit, I discovered. One young man had a shop, a 30 foot long by 8 or 10 foot wide tent located on a wide, flat area just below the summit. He sold soft drinks and snack foods from the front of the tent. Behind his shop, but still in the tent, there was a center aisle with a 25 foot long bench on each side. Space on those benches was rented by the evening to those who wanted to camp near the summit. Hauling his inventory to that shop had to be difficult, and the prices reflected it. His day usually began around 3 am, when tourists who wanted to witness sunrise on Mt. Sinai were present and active. His day ended around 10 pm, after the tourists who watched the sunset at Mt. Sinai descended or bedded down for the evening. What terrible working hours, I thought. Then he told me that he has two partners in this business; each works a month, then has the next two months off.
I took the walking path and met up with Ernest Manewal of our group. On our way up, we encountered the 4 young Germans, who were hauling some gear to the summit where they planned to spend the night, sleeping somewhere at or near the 7,500 foot summit of this famous mountain. After three very long days of bike riding and one short day of bike riding, the summit was a challenge to reach. I stopped frequently and on one stop wondered if I could reach the top. Physical exhaustion was overtaking desire. Somehow I found the energy to continue and reached the summit. You cannot stand on the highest point: a very small Christian chapel and an equally small mosque occupy that spot.
There are entrepreneurs on the summit, I discovered. One young man had a shop, a 30 foot long by 8 or 10 foot wide tent located on a wide, flat area just below the summit. He sold soft drinks and snack foods from the front of the tent. Behind his shop, but still in the tent, there was a center aisle with a 25 foot long bench on each side. Space on those benches was rented by the evening to those who wanted to camp near the summit. Hauling his inventory to that shop had to be difficult, and the prices reflected it. His day usually began around 3 am, when tourists who wanted to witness sunrise on Mt. Sinai were present and active. His day ended around 10 pm, after the tourists who watched the sunset at Mt. Sinai descended or bedded down for the evening. What terrible working hours, I thought. Then he told me that he has two partners in this business; each works a month, then has the next two months off.
Day 8 riding Mt. Sinai to Nuweiba
entrance to St. Katherine's monastery
Today I slept late, then had breakfast in the dining hall of consisting of boiled eggs, cheese, pita bread, jam and tea. When finished, the waiter brought out from the kitchen something that looked like pancakes folded in half, but tasted like dummies, only sweeter. Very good.
Tourists are allowed inside a few places within St. Katherine's monastery. One of those public places is called the Well of Moses, which Moses visited on his first banishment from Pharaoh's court. The actual "burning bush" is also inside the monastery in a public area. The Greek Orthodox Church believes this is the burning bush in part because it is the only bush of its type on Mt. Sinai, and efforts to take cuttings and transplant it elsewhere on the mountain have all met with failure. There is an impressive chapel open to the public, with chandeliers donated by Napoleon we were told, and a small gift shop. But, the vast inside area is not open to the general public. There were only 25 monks living in the monastery at the time of our visit and the requirements of each had to be substantial, just to keep the place up.
After my short tour inside the monastery, the riding day began. Today should have been an easy ride of 65 miles, mostly downhill, ending in the city of Nuweiba on the Gulf of Aqaba. I could not find the hotel in this busy city (another map or map reading problem), so I had some extra miles at the end of the day touring Nuweiba and looking for our destination; 75 total riding miles today. Also, there were a few long uphill climbs today and when we finally reached the long downhill into Nuweiba, there was a very strong headwind. On this long, steep downhill run when I expected to be gliding along at 40+ mph, I was actually having to pedal at times just to do 20 mph. All I can say is that I'm glad this very strong headwind came on a long downhill. On flat ground, or worse, on an uphill, it would have been a killer day.
Tourists are allowed inside a few places within St. Katherine's monastery. One of those public places is called the Well of Moses, which Moses visited on his first banishment from Pharaoh's court. The actual "burning bush" is also inside the monastery in a public area. The Greek Orthodox Church believes this is the burning bush in part because it is the only bush of its type on Mt. Sinai, and efforts to take cuttings and transplant it elsewhere on the mountain have all met with failure. There is an impressive chapel open to the public, with chandeliers donated by Napoleon we were told, and a small gift shop. But, the vast inside area is not open to the general public. There were only 25 monks living in the monastery at the time of our visit and the requirements of each had to be substantial, just to keep the place up.
After my short tour inside the monastery, the riding day began. Today should have been an easy ride of 65 miles, mostly downhill, ending in the city of Nuweiba on the Gulf of Aqaba. I could not find the hotel in this busy city (another map or map reading problem), so I had some extra miles at the end of the day touring Nuweiba and looking for our destination; 75 total riding miles today. Also, there were a few long uphill climbs today and when we finally reached the long downhill into Nuweiba, there was a very strong headwind. On this long, steep downhill run when I expected to be gliding along at 40+ mph, I was actually having to pedal at times just to do 20 mph. All I can say is that I'm glad this very strong headwind came on a long downhill. On flat ground, or worse, on an uphill, it would have been a killer day.
Day 9, a rest day in Nuweiba, Egypt
Helnana Nuweiba Hotel and grounds
After 5 days and almost 400 miles of riding, we had a rest day in Nuweiba (there is no universally accepted spelling of these Arabic names that are phonetically translated into English, then letters from our alphabet are applied to make a word, so you may see other spellings of this and every other Arabic name). The hotel was very nice, as was the food, and the service. The gift shops nearby were well stocked with gift items, so I bought a few things here. Our hotel faced the Gulf of Aqaba, which is supposedly the best deep sea diving in the world, with the possible exception of the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. I did not find anyone else in our biking group who had a diving card and that, combined with the welcome idea of a day of rest, caused me to pass on trying to dive in the Gulf of Aqaba on our first rest day. That is one decision I regret. I did enjoy a swim in the Gulf of Aqaba; cool but refreshing.
I ate lunch today in a local restaurant not too far from our hotel: salad and seafood rice. Excellent. Tom Dunkel in our group went along and had grilled fish: the whole fish was grilled and served to him, complete with head, scales and bones. He said it was very good. In the afternoon, I bought post cards and was writing notes to children and grandchildren when a very strong earthquake hit. It came in 3 or 4 waves, each one lasting 10 to 15 seconds and shook the hotel with vigor. The fault line that runs down the Jordan River valley, through the Gulf of Aqaba and across east Africa was active today. I have experienced earthquakes in Indiana and California and today's quake was stronger than any I have felt before. All of the usual tourists places in Egypt have a tourist police presence as well as young people selling postcards, books and other things that tourists might want to buy. I bought a couple of books before leaving St. Katherine's monastery from these young entrepreneurs and read them in the afternoon.
Dinner tonight was to have been at a Bedouin camp, but for some reason that did not happen. We walked to a local restaurant and had another fine meal. On the way back to the hotel, I saw a unique and funny (at least to me) sight: 3 camels around a dumpster behind a store and with their long necks, they could get down in it and were searching for food. I did not take my camera to dinner and regretted missing that photo opportunity. Tomorrow, we leave and ride to Elat, Israel. Today was overcast and very windy. I hope it clears up by tomorrow and we do not ride into a strong headwind.
I ate lunch today in a local restaurant not too far from our hotel: salad and seafood rice. Excellent. Tom Dunkel in our group went along and had grilled fish: the whole fish was grilled and served to him, complete with head, scales and bones. He said it was very good. In the afternoon, I bought post cards and was writing notes to children and grandchildren when a very strong earthquake hit. It came in 3 or 4 waves, each one lasting 10 to 15 seconds and shook the hotel with vigor. The fault line that runs down the Jordan River valley, through the Gulf of Aqaba and across east Africa was active today. I have experienced earthquakes in Indiana and California and today's quake was stronger than any I have felt before. All of the usual tourists places in Egypt have a tourist police presence as well as young people selling postcards, books and other things that tourists might want to buy. I bought a couple of books before leaving St. Katherine's monastery from these young entrepreneurs and read them in the afternoon.
Dinner tonight was to have been at a Bedouin camp, but for some reason that did not happen. We walked to a local restaurant and had another fine meal. On the way back to the hotel, I saw a unique and funny (at least to me) sight: 3 camels around a dumpster behind a store and with their long necks, they could get down in it and were searching for food. I did not take my camera to dinner and regretted missing that photo opportunity. Tomorrow, we leave and ride to Elat, Israel. Today was overcast and very windy. I hope it clears up by tomorrow and we do not ride into a strong headwind.
Day 10 riding from Nuweiba, Egypt to Elat, Israel
Miami Beach, Sinai peninsula
Today was another short riding day, less than 50 miles, but we would be spending time crossing the Egypt-Israel border, which required an early start. Our Egyptian guide showed up without any bottled water, which was a problem because we Americans did not drink the local water in Egypt. He made a quick trip to a local store, returned with several cases of large bottles of water and today's possible disaster was averted. The ride today was not the easy, flat ride along the Gulf that I imagined. We had a very strong headwind (which is common I later learned) and a road that had a lot of ups and downs to it. Slower going than anticipated. I saw another dead camel by the roadside today, my last day of riding in Egypt, which seemed to be a fitting bookend to the dead camel I spotted on my first day of riding in Egypt.
When we got the border, our bags were X-rayed by the Egyptians and then we left Egypt. On entering Israel, our group had a wide variety of experiences. One rider, Marty Pashelinski, was riding in the support vehicle because he had aggravated an old injury and wanted the rest. Marty was subjected to a strip search before being allowed in Israel. Another rider, Wayne Smith, had every one of his bags searched thoroughly, even the small seat bag on his bike, before he was allowed into Israel. I was asked if I had any weapons or ammunition, said "no" and was then sent on into Israel without any further inspection. I must have been the most non-threatening looking person in our biking group.
Elat has an active port, and I saw acres and acres of cars from Korea and Japan that had recently been unloaded. It is also a tourist destination and the road from the border to downtown was full of restaurants and the usual attractions (miniature golf, water parks, etc) that you find in any American warm weather tourist destination. Our hotel tonight is across the street from the Elat airport, so it will be interesting to see if the planes replace the Muslim call to prayer as my morning wake up. After settling into the hotel, I walked along the Elat boardwalk. It was full of the usual tourist destination shops: fruit smoothies made in a boardwalk stand here, jewelry and other works of art sold there, popular restaurants with televisions over the bars and more. I then ventured into a shopping mall, 3 stories tall and looking like it had been lifted out of America and dropped into Elat, except that most of the store signs were in Hebrew as well as English.
When we got the border, our bags were X-rayed by the Egyptians and then we left Egypt. On entering Israel, our group had a wide variety of experiences. One rider, Marty Pashelinski, was riding in the support vehicle because he had aggravated an old injury and wanted the rest. Marty was subjected to a strip search before being allowed in Israel. Another rider, Wayne Smith, had every one of his bags searched thoroughly, even the small seat bag on his bike, before he was allowed into Israel. I was asked if I had any weapons or ammunition, said "no" and was then sent on into Israel without any further inspection. I must have been the most non-threatening looking person in our biking group.
Elat has an active port, and I saw acres and acres of cars from Korea and Japan that had recently been unloaded. It is also a tourist destination and the road from the border to downtown was full of restaurants and the usual attractions (miniature golf, water parks, etc) that you find in any American warm weather tourist destination. Our hotel tonight is across the street from the Elat airport, so it will be interesting to see if the planes replace the Muslim call to prayer as my morning wake up. After settling into the hotel, I walked along the Elat boardwalk. It was full of the usual tourist destination shops: fruit smoothies made in a boardwalk stand here, jewelry and other works of art sold there, popular restaurants with televisions over the bars and more. I then ventured into a shopping mall, 3 stories tall and looking like it had been lifted out of America and dropped into Elat, except that most of the store signs were in Hebrew as well as English.
Day 11 riding Elat, Israel to Petra, Jordan
Aqaba, Jordan near, Elat, Israel in the distance
The border opened at 7:30 am, so we were up early, finished breakfast, loaded bags on vehicles and were riding to the border by then. It was easy leaving Israel, but difficult entering Jordan. Some mix up on the visas of some in our group. It was resolved and we rode through Aqaba, Jordan, then climbed up the hills and out of the city. We got onto the Desert Highway, that runs from Aqaba, Jordan to Damascus, Syria and beyond. It is a modern, 6 lane divided highway. Today was Friday, the Muslim holy day, so again the traffic was light. While light on the highway, the traffic on the 2 lane, steep uphill, truck filled (very courteous truck drivers, I might add), no shoulder road from the border heading out of Aqaba was a very difficult start of the riding day. Many in our group elected to ride in the support vehicles through and out of Aqaba. In hindsight, that was a wise choice.
After a short distance riding on the berm of Desert Highway, we turned onto the King's Highway. This is a paved, 2 lane road that follows an ancient caravan route from Aqaba to Petra. Our lunch today was after 41 miles of riding. I elected to join the other riders in the van, riding it from the lunch stop to the afternoon rest stop, another 20 miles down the road. After that rest stop, I began biking again and had not traveled a mile before I saw a boy, about 12 years old, beside the road who appeared to be waving. I waved back and when I got closer, learned that he had a sling shot, and nailed me in the chest before running off. That evening, several in our group had similar stories to tell, children who throw rocks at passing bicycle riders. Our afternoon ride was also slowed by a strong headwind and some uphill climbs. But the last 4 miles into Petra were a screaming downhill run. I was glad for the fast downhill because it was getting late, and dark. Plus the temperature dropped below 50 degrees, and on a fast downhill, it is even colder.
Our hotel in Wadi Musa, the name of the current city next to the fabled city of Petra, is wonderful, maybe the best yet. It is located right next to the entrance to the ancient wonders of Petra. While resting in the bar before dinner, a very good buffet dinner again, I struck up a conversation with a local Jordanian man who was hoping to get hired to work in the hotel. His complaint was that this hotel was owned and operated by Palestinians and they only hired Palestinians. Whether true or not, that is a familiar complaint world wide: this other group gets better treatment. We also learned, from talking to some local boys, that they study English in school. Tomorrow is another rest day, so we can experience Petra. Our Jordanian guide, Hassan, will lead us on a tour of Petra. It should be interesting.
After a short distance riding on the berm of Desert Highway, we turned onto the King's Highway. This is a paved, 2 lane road that follows an ancient caravan route from Aqaba to Petra. Our lunch today was after 41 miles of riding. I elected to join the other riders in the van, riding it from the lunch stop to the afternoon rest stop, another 20 miles down the road. After that rest stop, I began biking again and had not traveled a mile before I saw a boy, about 12 years old, beside the road who appeared to be waving. I waved back and when I got closer, learned that he had a sling shot, and nailed me in the chest before running off. That evening, several in our group had similar stories to tell, children who throw rocks at passing bicycle riders. Our afternoon ride was also slowed by a strong headwind and some uphill climbs. But the last 4 miles into Petra were a screaming downhill run. I was glad for the fast downhill because it was getting late, and dark. Plus the temperature dropped below 50 degrees, and on a fast downhill, it is even colder.
Our hotel in Wadi Musa, the name of the current city next to the fabled city of Petra, is wonderful, maybe the best yet. It is located right next to the entrance to the ancient wonders of Petra. While resting in the bar before dinner, a very good buffet dinner again, I struck up a conversation with a local Jordanian man who was hoping to get hired to work in the hotel. His complaint was that this hotel was owned and operated by Palestinians and they only hired Palestinians. Whether true or not, that is a familiar complaint world wide: this other group gets better treatment. We also learned, from talking to some local boys, that they study English in school. Tomorrow is another rest day, so we can experience Petra. Our Jordanian guide, Hassan, will lead us on a tour of Petra. It should be interesting.
Day 12, touring Petra
a view of the most famous building at Petra
Today we toured Petra with our Jordanian guide Hassan (he was with us, on the bus, all the time we were in Jordan) doubling as our Petra tour guide. We arrived to catch the early morning sun striking the "Treasury" building, so named because the local Bedouin's thought that it contained money. This building was used in one of the Indiana Jones movies, when the lead character was searching for the Holy Grail. Hassan spent the morning giving us a tour of Petra. At the end of the valley, there are two restaurants serving buffet lunches to the many tourists at Petra. After lunch, we were on our own to explore some more, or go back to the hotel, or visit the shops in Wadi Musa, or do whatever you wished to do.
Our hotel was immediately next to the entrance to Petra. We met as a group, paid our admission fee and entered. We walked along a wide path to an area where locals gathered with horses and camels to give rides to tourists, then we walked down a siq (Arabic for canyon, pronounced "seek") almost one mile long. This canyon has walls that are maybe 400 feet high and the Nabateans used it as a line of defense. They also built "gutters" in the walls, to collect the little bit of rain water in this desert and drain it towards the end of the canyon where they stored water in this desert climate. After leaving the siq, a turn to the left and about 100 yards away, you were at the end of a box canyon. A turn to the right and you followed the valley for over a mile, and each turn gave way to another view of the buildings by the Nabateans. Amazing! Unlike the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Incas and others who cut stone and built temples and buildings from those building blocks, the Nabateans at Petra cut into the face of the mountain, hauled the debris away and their buildings, theaters and monuments were left, surrounded by the outline of the mountain. A few structures were built in the traditional way, but for the most part, the Nabateans were rock cutters/debris haulers.
One interesting aspect to Petra: some believe that the Israelites wandered for 2 years, then stayed here during 38 of the 40 years they spent in the desert after leaving Egypt. Most archaeologists place that spot further north, in the desert of southern Israel. But to the locals in Wadi Musa and a minority of archaeologists, Petra is the place. No matter who is right on that issue, one item that is agreed upon is that on one of the mountains around Wadi Musa is a tomb that is believed to be the tomb of Aaron, the brother of Moses.
The world comes to Petra and this can be confirmed in two different ways. First, the books that are for sale at the many places catering to tourists come in a variety of languages to accommodate the tourists from all over the world. Second, listening to the talk at any public place and you hear many languages, the familiar and unfamiliar.
Our hotel was immediately next to the entrance to Petra. We met as a group, paid our admission fee and entered. We walked along a wide path to an area where locals gathered with horses and camels to give rides to tourists, then we walked down a siq (Arabic for canyon, pronounced "seek") almost one mile long. This canyon has walls that are maybe 400 feet high and the Nabateans used it as a line of defense. They also built "gutters" in the walls, to collect the little bit of rain water in this desert and drain it towards the end of the canyon where they stored water in this desert climate. After leaving the siq, a turn to the left and about 100 yards away, you were at the end of a box canyon. A turn to the right and you followed the valley for over a mile, and each turn gave way to another view of the buildings by the Nabateans. Amazing! Unlike the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, Incas and others who cut stone and built temples and buildings from those building blocks, the Nabateans at Petra cut into the face of the mountain, hauled the debris away and their buildings, theaters and monuments were left, surrounded by the outline of the mountain. A few structures were built in the traditional way, but for the most part, the Nabateans were rock cutters/debris haulers.
One interesting aspect to Petra: some believe that the Israelites wandered for 2 years, then stayed here during 38 of the 40 years they spent in the desert after leaving Egypt. Most archaeologists place that spot further north, in the desert of southern Israel. But to the locals in Wadi Musa and a minority of archaeologists, Petra is the place. No matter who is right on that issue, one item that is agreed upon is that on one of the mountains around Wadi Musa is a tomb that is believed to be the tomb of Aaron, the brother of Moses.
The world comes to Petra and this can be confirmed in two different ways. First, the books that are for sale at the many places catering to tourists come in a variety of languages to accommodate the tourists from all over the world. Second, listening to the talk at any public place and you hear many languages, the familiar and unfamiliar.
Day 13 riding Petra to al Karak, Jordan
Shawbak castle
Today was a planned 90+ mile route, with a very steep, 4 mile uphill at the start. That glorious downhill run we had going into Petra would now be covered in reverse, up, up and more up. Rick gave us all a gift today: we were up early for breakfast, then loaded bikes onto the vehicles and we rode uphill and out of Petra in motorized comfort. A great start to the day. Riding in the high desert of Jordan at this time of year presents challenges in selecting clothes. The temperature is in the 40s in the morning and after about 4 pm. On ridges and peaks, the wind creates a real chill. When the wind is calm, and during mid day, the temperature warms up to the 70s.
I rode in the vehicle to our first rest stop, about 20 miles from Petra, near Shawbak castle. This is another of the Crusader era castles that dot the landscape in this part of the world. The route from this stop was uphill to the town of Tafila, where lunch was scheduled at the Dana Restaurant. During lunch, I struck up a conversation with a local man who worked as an administrator in a women's hospital in Amman, Jordan. His complaints about doctors sounded familiar to comments you might hear in the US: for a normal child delivery, one night hospital stay was allowed; for a C-section delivery, 3 nights stay. Doctors are paid more for a C-section than a normal delivery and he was convinced that Jordanian doctors were unnecessarily ordering C-sections to increase their compensation, not out of any concern for the mother or child.
After lunch, we had a steep uphill leaving Tafila. School was getting out for the day, and we encountered children with book bags, most of whom were friendly but a few of whom were from the rock throwing tribe. Discouraging. On the long and steep uphill, I was riding alone again when the local police stopped. They wanted to know my nationality, how many were in the group and where we were going. They seemed surprised at both the distance we had covered and the remainder of the planned journey. At the end, they said "Welcome to Jordan" and drove off. On one of the many uphill climbs of today, I was challenged by a pack of 4 dogs, who came from nowhere. I was inspired, as bicyclists are, to ride faster, but when I could not outrun them, I resorted to the local custom of throwing rocks. The first missile hit nothing, but was enough of a warning that it sent all of them scurrying off in another direction.
This afternoon we had a real challenge: a very steep downhill in a place called Wadi Hassa, sometimes called the Grand Canyon of Jordan, followed by an equally steep uphill. At the top, we encountered some rock throwing boys on a ridge above us. Our leader, Rick, was close behind me and for that I was glad. It was getting late, getting dark and we were almost 20 miles from our destination, in the town of al Karak. I followed Rick, who rides at a faster pace than I am used to riding, and we arrived at the hotel shortly before 6 pm. I was very cold and even more tired. A hot shower did not warm me up completely, but it was enough to let me know that one knee was objecting, actually quite angry, at how I had treated it. Dinner tonight was modest, but the food was excellent, again. I went to bed earlier than on any other evening during this trip.
I rode in the vehicle to our first rest stop, about 20 miles from Petra, near Shawbak castle. This is another of the Crusader era castles that dot the landscape in this part of the world. The route from this stop was uphill to the town of Tafila, where lunch was scheduled at the Dana Restaurant. During lunch, I struck up a conversation with a local man who worked as an administrator in a women's hospital in Amman, Jordan. His complaints about doctors sounded familiar to comments you might hear in the US: for a normal child delivery, one night hospital stay was allowed; for a C-section delivery, 3 nights stay. Doctors are paid more for a C-section than a normal delivery and he was convinced that Jordanian doctors were unnecessarily ordering C-sections to increase their compensation, not out of any concern for the mother or child.
After lunch, we had a steep uphill leaving Tafila. School was getting out for the day, and we encountered children with book bags, most of whom were friendly but a few of whom were from the rock throwing tribe. Discouraging. On the long and steep uphill, I was riding alone again when the local police stopped. They wanted to know my nationality, how many were in the group and where we were going. They seemed surprised at both the distance we had covered and the remainder of the planned journey. At the end, they said "Welcome to Jordan" and drove off. On one of the many uphill climbs of today, I was challenged by a pack of 4 dogs, who came from nowhere. I was inspired, as bicyclists are, to ride faster, but when I could not outrun them, I resorted to the local custom of throwing rocks. The first missile hit nothing, but was enough of a warning that it sent all of them scurrying off in another direction.
This afternoon we had a real challenge: a very steep downhill in a place called Wadi Hassa, sometimes called the Grand Canyon of Jordan, followed by an equally steep uphill. At the top, we encountered some rock throwing boys on a ridge above us. Our leader, Rick, was close behind me and for that I was glad. It was getting late, getting dark and we were almost 20 miles from our destination, in the town of al Karak. I followed Rick, who rides at a faster pace than I am used to riding, and we arrived at the hotel shortly before 6 pm. I was very cold and even more tired. A hot shower did not warm me up completely, but it was enough to let me know that one knee was objecting, actually quite angry, at how I had treated it. Dinner tonight was modest, but the food was excellent, again. I went to bed earlier than on any other evening during this trip.
Day 14 riding al Karak to Madaba, Jordan
the Crusader era castle at al Karak
Today was a short riding day, a little more than 50 miles from al Karak to Madaba. There was one more wadi to cross, the Wadi Mujeb, which was shorter but steeper than Wadi Hasa of the prior day. I woke up with two very sore knees from the prior day's riding, so I decided to ride in the bus today and rest, hoping I would be up to riding the remainder of the trip.
The traffic in al Karak was a mess; there seemed to be no rules. Vehicles passed on the left, on the right and down the center. Pedestrians walked on the sidewalks, in the streets, where ever. It looked like chaos to me. Our driver took the three passengers, myself, Ralph and Ernest, to the castle. Unfortunately, we could not get in at this early hour. We then drove to the edge of Wadi Mujeb, where he fixed tea for us. Very good tea, from Ceylon but made in Jordan. We then crossed the Wadi Mujeb on the bus and I was especially glad to cover it in a motorized vehicle. The downhill was very steep, only one and a half lanes wide, lots of traffic and full of rock, sand and debris on the road that can easily cause a bike to spill on the many switchbacks on the way down. There would be a lot of braking on the way down, and that puts a strain on the hands as well as the bike rims and brake pads. The uphill was as advertised: more difficult than Wadi Hasa of the previous day.
The bus and its passengers arrived in Madaba around 1 pm. The bike riders began arriving shortly thereafter. Our group was split up tonight, some stayed in a small hotel and myself and a few others stayed in rooms above shops next to the Church of St. George, a 6th century Greek Orthodox Church that has a world famous mosaic map on its floor that also dates to the 6th century. I walked around town and met a shop owner who once lived in Los Angeles, owned a flower shop there and intends to go back someday. He now owns a gift shop in Madaba, Jordan. What a change.
In the afternoon, all of us boarded our bus and rode into Amman, Jordan. It is a busy city of almost 2 million population. It was built on 7 hills (today, it covers 19 hills) and reminded me of San Francisco, with the hillsides covered with dwellings. We visited a Roman era theater in Amman, then went to the top of one of the hills for views of the city. Dinner tonight was at a restaurant inside an old fort in Amman. The large parking lot, for cars and tour buses, told us that it was set up to accommodate large crowds. A very good buffet dinner was served, along with singing and dancing entertainment. The musical instruments were drums and bagpipes, fewer in number but similar to what I heard at the wedding celebration in Cairo. I would not have guessed bagpipes to be a common musical instrument in this part of the world. I generally don't eat lamb, but tonight I had two helpings. It was delicious. When we returned to Madaba, it was closed up tighter than the proverbial drum. The shops were closed, with steel doors dropped in place and locks secured. No one was out on the streets. It was a sharp contrast to the very active city we encountered earlier.
The traffic in al Karak was a mess; there seemed to be no rules. Vehicles passed on the left, on the right and down the center. Pedestrians walked on the sidewalks, in the streets, where ever. It looked like chaos to me. Our driver took the three passengers, myself, Ralph and Ernest, to the castle. Unfortunately, we could not get in at this early hour. We then drove to the edge of Wadi Mujeb, where he fixed tea for us. Very good tea, from Ceylon but made in Jordan. We then crossed the Wadi Mujeb on the bus and I was especially glad to cover it in a motorized vehicle. The downhill was very steep, only one and a half lanes wide, lots of traffic and full of rock, sand and debris on the road that can easily cause a bike to spill on the many switchbacks on the way down. There would be a lot of braking on the way down, and that puts a strain on the hands as well as the bike rims and brake pads. The uphill was as advertised: more difficult than Wadi Hasa of the previous day.
The bus and its passengers arrived in Madaba around 1 pm. The bike riders began arriving shortly thereafter. Our group was split up tonight, some stayed in a small hotel and myself and a few others stayed in rooms above shops next to the Church of St. George, a 6th century Greek Orthodox Church that has a world famous mosaic map on its floor that also dates to the 6th century. I walked around town and met a shop owner who once lived in Los Angeles, owned a flower shop there and intends to go back someday. He now owns a gift shop in Madaba, Jordan. What a change.
In the afternoon, all of us boarded our bus and rode into Amman, Jordan. It is a busy city of almost 2 million population. It was built on 7 hills (today, it covers 19 hills) and reminded me of San Francisco, with the hillsides covered with dwellings. We visited a Roman era theater in Amman, then went to the top of one of the hills for views of the city. Dinner tonight was at a restaurant inside an old fort in Amman. The large parking lot, for cars and tour buses, told us that it was set up to accommodate large crowds. A very good buffet dinner was served, along with singing and dancing entertainment. The musical instruments were drums and bagpipes, fewer in number but similar to what I heard at the wedding celebration in Cairo. I would not have guessed bagpipes to be a common musical instrument in this part of the world. I generally don't eat lamb, but tonight I had two helpings. It was delicious. When we returned to Madaba, it was closed up tighter than the proverbial drum. The shops were closed, with steel doors dropped in place and locks secured. No one was out on the streets. It was a sharp contrast to the very active city we encountered earlier.
Day 15 riding Madaba, Jordan to Sea of Galilee, Israel
view from Mt. Nebo, the Dead Sea and Israel
Today was scheduled to be our longest day of riding, over 100 miles, and with a border crossing that would take time. Because of the long day, we rose early, finished breakfast and loaded our bags on the vehicles and began to ride. Going through Madaba, Jordan, we passed children walking to school with their back packs and books, looking very much like children you might see in any American city walking to school in the morning. Just outside of Madaba, we came to the summit of Mt. Nebo and had the view of Israel that Moses had a few thousand years earlier. Unfortunately, the haze obscured our view. I walked around the summit and the Memorial of Moses. This spot has had a church or chapel on it since the 4th century, with the current Franciscan church having been updated in 1983.
After the history lessons at the summit, we then began the steep downhill run. A note about this and a few other places we visited: Pope John Paul II was scheduled to arrive in Israel on the day we were scheduled to depart, so many of the places that he might visit were in the middle of a "clean up, paint up, fix up" campaign. Since Mt. Nebo was one of those possible visitation sites, the road to the summit was being rebuilt/repaved. There had to be two different contractors on this job, one starting from the top and working down and the other starting from the bottom and working up, because on my way down the mountain on a freshly rebuilt/repaved road, I came to bare spot and 50 feet away workers were rebuilding the road from the bottom up. The problem: the road needed more than 50 feet of asphalt in a straight line. But the road from the top came to an end facing downhill, while the road from the bottom up came to an end facing uphill. How the curves would be constructed and the sections connected in that 50 feet space was a mystery to me. I traversed it by putting my bike on my shoulder and walking across the dirt. That is not an option for the Popemobile and other vehicles.
Shortly after reaching the bottom of Mt. Nebo, we were to make a turn and go north. Hassan said he would have the pink "Barbie" bus parked at that intersection so we would not miss our turn. When I got to the bottom of Mt. Nebo, I saw two of the women riders and we rode together, heading east and looking for the turn off to go north. After several miles, we saw a road sign telling how many miles it was to Amman. We knew immediately that something was wrong, that we should not be on this road. Not too long after that, Aviv (an Israeli who drove one of the support vehicles while we were in Jordan and Israel) pulled up and said "You're a long way from home." He led us back to the road going north. Thank you Aviv for looking for lost bike riders. We later learned that Hassan moved the bus before we came to the intersection.
The road we followed for most of the day was the main north-south road on the Jordanian side of the Jordan River. It was narrow, did not have a shoulder and was full of traffic, mostly trucks. The distance between the road and the Jordan River ranged from a few hundred yards to close to a mile. In that space was the "bread basket" of Jordan. I saw tomatoes, carrots, radishes, cucumbers and potatoes being grown, and roadside stands were common. But it is very different from what you see in America. First, the farms used mostly manual labor, which meant that the distance between each row of crops was much wider than in America; wide enough for a person to walk along and manually plant, pull weeds and harvest. Next, the roadside stands typically consisted of two or three small boxes of produce, measuring 18 inches by 24 inches and maybe 4 to 6 inches deep, and a child selling the produce.
Our last meal in Jordan was lunch at a very nice restaurant in Pella, Jordan, high on a hill overlooking the Jordan River valley. We then had a police escort (whose presence discouraged rock throwing by school boys) to the border. We spent almost 2 hours getting out of Jordan, and we could not help but wonder why the long delay. Rick Bauman later told us the reason: the Jordanians had written rules for vehicles driving the very empty, few hundred yards in a "security zone" from Jordanian customs to the border with Israel. They also had rules for pedestrians walking across that zone. But, they had no rules for bikes crossing that security zone. The Jordanian proposal was to load all bikes and riders onto the vehicles, and we all ride to the border with Israel. Rick's strong objection to that plan finally prevailed and we rode our bikes over to Israel.
Entering Israel was easy this time, no strip searches or excessive bag searches. Aviv had been with us throughout Jordan (he joined us when we crossed the border from Egypt into Elat, Israel) and was able to persuade the border crossing inspectors that we were not a danger. Our destination tonight was the Kibbutz Ma'agan, on the south shore of the Sea of Galilee, about 20 miles distant. Between getting lost today, the long border crossing delay in Jordan and the long ride, it was getting late and that meant it would soon be dark. I did not like the idea of riding in the dark, but did. Most in our group got in one of the vehicles and arrived at the kibbutz much sooner than I did. But I wanted to see Israel, as much as I could. The road had a nice 5 foot wide shoulder for bike riding, traffic was heavy, and the trucks included some 18 wheelers, like you see everywhere in America. I had not seen one of them in Egypt or Jordan. We passed farms in Israel and they looked very much like American farms; plantings up to the road, rows very close together and signs that they use fertilizers and farm equipment. I reached the Kibbutz Ma'agan well after dark, but was greeted by a friendly man passing out lemonade to all arrivals, even before I checked in. My room tonight was very nice, and located about 100 feet from the Sea of Galilee.
After the history lessons at the summit, we then began the steep downhill run. A note about this and a few other places we visited: Pope John Paul II was scheduled to arrive in Israel on the day we were scheduled to depart, so many of the places that he might visit were in the middle of a "clean up, paint up, fix up" campaign. Since Mt. Nebo was one of those possible visitation sites, the road to the summit was being rebuilt/repaved. There had to be two different contractors on this job, one starting from the top and working down and the other starting from the bottom and working up, because on my way down the mountain on a freshly rebuilt/repaved road, I came to bare spot and 50 feet away workers were rebuilding the road from the bottom up. The problem: the road needed more than 50 feet of asphalt in a straight line. But the road from the top came to an end facing downhill, while the road from the bottom up came to an end facing uphill. How the curves would be constructed and the sections connected in that 50 feet space was a mystery to me. I traversed it by putting my bike on my shoulder and walking across the dirt. That is not an option for the Popemobile and other vehicles.
Shortly after reaching the bottom of Mt. Nebo, we were to make a turn and go north. Hassan said he would have the pink "Barbie" bus parked at that intersection so we would not miss our turn. When I got to the bottom of Mt. Nebo, I saw two of the women riders and we rode together, heading east and looking for the turn off to go north. After several miles, we saw a road sign telling how many miles it was to Amman. We knew immediately that something was wrong, that we should not be on this road. Not too long after that, Aviv (an Israeli who drove one of the support vehicles while we were in Jordan and Israel) pulled up and said "You're a long way from home." He led us back to the road going north. Thank you Aviv for looking for lost bike riders. We later learned that Hassan moved the bus before we came to the intersection.
The road we followed for most of the day was the main north-south road on the Jordanian side of the Jordan River. It was narrow, did not have a shoulder and was full of traffic, mostly trucks. The distance between the road and the Jordan River ranged from a few hundred yards to close to a mile. In that space was the "bread basket" of Jordan. I saw tomatoes, carrots, radishes, cucumbers and potatoes being grown, and roadside stands were common. But it is very different from what you see in America. First, the farms used mostly manual labor, which meant that the distance between each row of crops was much wider than in America; wide enough for a person to walk along and manually plant, pull weeds and harvest. Next, the roadside stands typically consisted of two or three small boxes of produce, measuring 18 inches by 24 inches and maybe 4 to 6 inches deep, and a child selling the produce.
Our last meal in Jordan was lunch at a very nice restaurant in Pella, Jordan, high on a hill overlooking the Jordan River valley. We then had a police escort (whose presence discouraged rock throwing by school boys) to the border. We spent almost 2 hours getting out of Jordan, and we could not help but wonder why the long delay. Rick Bauman later told us the reason: the Jordanians had written rules for vehicles driving the very empty, few hundred yards in a "security zone" from Jordanian customs to the border with Israel. They also had rules for pedestrians walking across that zone. But, they had no rules for bikes crossing that security zone. The Jordanian proposal was to load all bikes and riders onto the vehicles, and we all ride to the border with Israel. Rick's strong objection to that plan finally prevailed and we rode our bikes over to Israel.
Entering Israel was easy this time, no strip searches or excessive bag searches. Aviv had been with us throughout Jordan (he joined us when we crossed the border from Egypt into Elat, Israel) and was able to persuade the border crossing inspectors that we were not a danger. Our destination tonight was the Kibbutz Ma'agan, on the south shore of the Sea of Galilee, about 20 miles distant. Between getting lost today, the long border crossing delay in Jordan and the long ride, it was getting late and that meant it would soon be dark. I did not like the idea of riding in the dark, but did. Most in our group got in one of the vehicles and arrived at the kibbutz much sooner than I did. But I wanted to see Israel, as much as I could. The road had a nice 5 foot wide shoulder for bike riding, traffic was heavy, and the trucks included some 18 wheelers, like you see everywhere in America. I had not seen one of them in Egypt or Jordan. We passed farms in Israel and they looked very much like American farms; plantings up to the road, rows very close together and signs that they use fertilizers and farm equipment. I reached the Kibbutz Ma'agan well after dark, but was greeted by a friendly man passing out lemonade to all arrivals, even before I checked in. My room tonight was very nice, and located about 100 feet from the Sea of Galilee.
Day 16 riding Sea of Galilee to the Golan Heights
Sea of Galilee, looking at Tiberias
Today's riding plan was along the east side of the Sea of Galilee, then heading northeast, into the Golan Heights, ending at another kibbutz about 50 miles away. I wanted to visit some New Testament sites, St. Peter's home on the north shore of the Sea of Galilee, then the site of the Sermon on the Mount on the northwest corner, both of which were not on our route plan for the day. Two other riders were interested in that "detour" today, so Wayne Smith, Ralph Isenberg and I headed out on out own route, intending to catch up with the others at dinner time at the kibbutz. The roads in Israel were well marked, signs were in Hebrew, Arabic and English, so we were confident that we could find our way.
Our kibbutz had washers and dryers, so in the morning after examining the Sea of Galilee, I washed some clothes, had a nice breakfast in a very crowded dining room at the kibbutz and, around 9 am, the three of us set out for the day. After a few photos along the way, we reached Caparneum, where a church and the foundation to St. Peter's home are located, and found it closed. You could see construction activity inside, so we took a few photos over the fence and continued west, towards the site of the Sermon on the Mount. When we got there, we found more of the same. In anticipation of the Pope's visit next week, the entrance road was being rebuilt. The church and monastery were closed from noon until 2:30 pm, and we arrived at 12:20. Rather than wait, we walked around and saw what we could, then stopped at a restaurant across the road for an excellent lunch.
After lunch, we rode north, looking for a road that would take us east, where we could intersect with the road into the Golan Heights and find our evening destination. Our ride to the east crossed the Hula Valley, which was similar to the green parts of Southern California. The climb out of the Hula Valley was another difficult climb, and the strains from the 100+ mile ride of the prior day made it even more difficult. The last 10 or 12 miles to the kibbutz were a steady uphill climb, and very tiring. The sights keep me going: UN vehicles passing often, a few vacant villages once occupied by Syrians, and some had buildings with shell holes in them. Remains from the 1967 war, I learned. Aviv found us in the late afternoon and Ralph decided to ride with him back to camp. I should have joined him, but did not. My pace got slower and slower, until finally Wayne left (I encouraged him not to remain with me because he was one of the strong riders in our group and I knew that I was holding him back). I was the last to reach the kibbutz, shortly before dinner. Our dinner tonight was at another kibbutz, so we all got into the vehicles and rode to another kibbutz that, the settlers claim, has the finest orchard in all of Israel. It is in an area of the Golan Heights that Syria wants returned, and the folks living there seemed resigned to leaving someday. There was less energy at this kibbutz than the one of the previous night, on the Sea of Galilee. I suspect it comes from the knowledge that they will be leaving it someday. The only uncertainty is when they will leave.
Our kibbutz had washers and dryers, so in the morning after examining the Sea of Galilee, I washed some clothes, had a nice breakfast in a very crowded dining room at the kibbutz and, around 9 am, the three of us set out for the day. After a few photos along the way, we reached Caparneum, where a church and the foundation to St. Peter's home are located, and found it closed. You could see construction activity inside, so we took a few photos over the fence and continued west, towards the site of the Sermon on the Mount. When we got there, we found more of the same. In anticipation of the Pope's visit next week, the entrance road was being rebuilt. The church and monastery were closed from noon until 2:30 pm, and we arrived at 12:20. Rather than wait, we walked around and saw what we could, then stopped at a restaurant across the road for an excellent lunch.
After lunch, we rode north, looking for a road that would take us east, where we could intersect with the road into the Golan Heights and find our evening destination. Our ride to the east crossed the Hula Valley, which was similar to the green parts of Southern California. The climb out of the Hula Valley was another difficult climb, and the strains from the 100+ mile ride of the prior day made it even more difficult. The last 10 or 12 miles to the kibbutz were a steady uphill climb, and very tiring. The sights keep me going: UN vehicles passing often, a few vacant villages once occupied by Syrians, and some had buildings with shell holes in them. Remains from the 1967 war, I learned. Aviv found us in the late afternoon and Ralph decided to ride with him back to camp. I should have joined him, but did not. My pace got slower and slower, until finally Wayne left (I encouraged him not to remain with me because he was one of the strong riders in our group and I knew that I was holding him back). I was the last to reach the kibbutz, shortly before dinner. Our dinner tonight was at another kibbutz, so we all got into the vehicles and rode to another kibbutz that, the settlers claim, has the finest orchard in all of Israel. It is in an area of the Golan Heights that Syria wants returned, and the folks living there seemed resigned to leaving someday. There was less energy at this kibbutz than the one of the previous night, on the Sea of Galilee. I suspect it comes from the knowledge that they will be leaving it someday. The only uncertainty is when they will leave.
Day 17 riding Golan Heights to Zefat
Golan Heights looking north
Today's plan was to leave the kibbutz after breakfast, ride further north, then cross the Hula valley again and climb up the steep slope on its west side, ending in Zefat, the city with the highest elevation in Israel. A total of 60 miles.
The kibbutz where we stayed is not as rich as others, so today's breakfast was very modest. After about 20 miles of riding, I took a detour and stopped at Nimrod Fortress, a national park in the furthest north corner of Israel. Construction began in 1227 by the local Muslim governor to protect the route to Damascus, which he thought the Crusaders were going to try and capture. I was surprised to see Israeli soldiers, with weapons, walking around like tourists, but then remembered the threats facing the country and the armed camps in Syria and Lebanon. Uniformed soldiers with weapons were common, especially in the Golan Heights. Lunch today was taken at a restaurant in another kibbutz, and it was great. After lunch, the climb out of the valley began. We saw a tram (similar to the one in Palm Springs, California) that would take riders and bikes up the "wall," and Ralph Isenberg, Ernest Manewal, Tom VanDyke and I decided to take it. That evening, Tom Dunkel, the strong rider and writer, called us the smart group. The ride up that "wall" on the west side of the Hula valley was difficult, even for our strongest riders. Zefat is an old town, and has something of an artists community to it. Finding a place for a good dinner was easy in Zefat. A note about Tom Dunkel. He has his own web site, www.tomdunkel.com, and wrote a very good short piece for the Baltimore Sun about our Middle East trip. You can find Tom's article at http://www.tomdunkel.com/portfolio/article.aspx?articleTitle=journeyintoJerusalem.
The kibbutz where we stayed is not as rich as others, so today's breakfast was very modest. After about 20 miles of riding, I took a detour and stopped at Nimrod Fortress, a national park in the furthest north corner of Israel. Construction began in 1227 by the local Muslim governor to protect the route to Damascus, which he thought the Crusaders were going to try and capture. I was surprised to see Israeli soldiers, with weapons, walking around like tourists, but then remembered the threats facing the country and the armed camps in Syria and Lebanon. Uniformed soldiers with weapons were common, especially in the Golan Heights. Lunch today was taken at a restaurant in another kibbutz, and it was great. After lunch, the climb out of the valley began. We saw a tram (similar to the one in Palm Springs, California) that would take riders and bikes up the "wall," and Ralph Isenberg, Ernest Manewal, Tom VanDyke and I decided to take it. That evening, Tom Dunkel, the strong rider and writer, called us the smart group. The ride up that "wall" on the west side of the Hula valley was difficult, even for our strongest riders. Zefat is an old town, and has something of an artists community to it. Finding a place for a good dinner was easy in Zefat. A note about Tom Dunkel. He has his own web site, www.tomdunkel.com, and wrote a very good short piece for the Baltimore Sun about our Middle East trip. You can find Tom's article at http://www.tomdunkel.com/portfolio/article.aspx?articleTitle=journeyintoJerusalem.
Day 18 riding Zefat to Beit Alfa
public square, and Church of the Annunciation
Today began with a modest breakfast at our hotel, then on the bikes and head south, stopping in Nazareth for lunch and finishing at another kibbutz. The ride out of Zefat was a very good downhill, but was soon followed by climbs and downhills that are common in hilly country. Ralph and I left at the same time and rode together to our lunch stop. We found a nice restaurant for lunch in Nazareth and had a rush of diversity. Nazareth is a Palestinian majority town, with a Christian minority. During lunch, the Muslim Friday prayers were held in a public square across the street from the restaurant, while I ate American food and paid in Israeli sheckels. At noon, the church bells tolled at the Church of the Annunciation and mass began, while the Friday prayers continued in the public square.
This public square was the source of conflict. The Muslims believe one of their prophets is buried there and want to build a mosque on the site. The Catholic church does not want a mosque on this public site and the Israel government is trying to resolve the issue to everyone's satisfaction. A couple of years after this trip, I learned that the Israeli government approved a mosque on this site, but no one was happy with the decision. The Muslims objected because the approved mosque was too small, while the Catholics were unhappy because anything was approved. Construction on the mosque began, then the Israeli government changed its mind and revoked the building permit. The conflict continues.
Tonight we stayed in another kibbutz near an archaeology dig, Beit Shean. In addition, there was a double celebration. Today was St. Patrick's Day, and some in our group were wanting green beer. After dinner at the kibbutz, a few of us went to a "biker bar" that a couple of riders visited earlier in the day and enjoyed ice cream. It was closed, so Aviv took us to another bar that he knew about. Good cold beer, but no green beer. Today was also the Jewish celebration of Pru'im and we were told to go to the dining hall at the kibbutz and enjoy this celebration, which traces its roots to the story in the Book of Esther about how the Jewish people were saved. Larry Herring said this is always one of the best parties in Israel, telling about his experience as a teenager living on kibbutz in Israel for a year. So, after a few beers in the local bar, we went back to the kibbutz and joined the celebration. It was another wonderful experience. Again, the adage was true: when opportunity knocks, answer!
This public square was the source of conflict. The Muslims believe one of their prophets is buried there and want to build a mosque on the site. The Catholic church does not want a mosque on this public site and the Israel government is trying to resolve the issue to everyone's satisfaction. A couple of years after this trip, I learned that the Israeli government approved a mosque on this site, but no one was happy with the decision. The Muslims objected because the approved mosque was too small, while the Catholics were unhappy because anything was approved. Construction on the mosque began, then the Israeli government changed its mind and revoked the building permit. The conflict continues.
Tonight we stayed in another kibbutz near an archaeology dig, Beit Shean. In addition, there was a double celebration. Today was St. Patrick's Day, and some in our group were wanting green beer. After dinner at the kibbutz, a few of us went to a "biker bar" that a couple of riders visited earlier in the day and enjoyed ice cream. It was closed, so Aviv took us to another bar that he knew about. Good cold beer, but no green beer. Today was also the Jewish celebration of Pru'im and we were told to go to the dining hall at the kibbutz and enjoy this celebration, which traces its roots to the story in the Book of Esther about how the Jewish people were saved. Larry Herring said this is always one of the best parties in Israel, telling about his experience as a teenager living on kibbutz in Israel for a year. So, after a few beers in the local bar, we went back to the kibbutz and joined the celebration. It was another wonderful experience. Again, the adage was true: when opportunity knocks, answer!
Day 19 riding Beit Alfa to Jericho
date palm orchard, north of Jericho
Today was a short riding day, about 50 miles down the Jordan River valley to Jericho which we should reach by lunch. After lunch at our hotel where we would be staying tonight, Rick planned a trip to Masada and a stop to swim in the Dead Sea.
On the day before, I got lost trying to find our kibbutz, but that became an advantage today; I knew the turns to take in order to get back to the main road. Wayne Smith and James Tannehill, two of the faster riders, stayed with me, the guide, at the start of this day. Once on the road, it was a fairly straight shot to Jericho. The early part of the ride was through a nice agricultural area, but as we got closer to Jericho, traffic increased, rude drivers became common (the little rock throwers grow up to be yelling, threatening teenagers in cars) and the scenery became more desert brown than agricultural green.
Our hotel today is very new and very nice. Service could be better, but maybe they are working that out. Some of us were at the hotel by noon, but there was no lunch service until 1 pm. Our rooms would not be ready until 1:30 or 2 pm, so we sat and waited. After lunch and check in, we boarded the van and rode south, past the caves at Qumran, then on to Masada. We could have climbed to the top, but everyone elected to ride the cable car to the top of Masada. It's an impressive fortress built by Herod, but more famous as the site of the Jewish hold outs against the Romans. Aviv gave us a good history of the place, then we were free to walk around and experience it for ourselves. After Masada, we got back in the van and went to a public beach on the Dead Sea for a swim. Actually, swimming is not what you do in the Dead Sea. The salt water makes you so buoyant that it is similar to bobbing like a cork. You cannot sink. And, if you try to swim, it is very strange because so much of your body is out of the water. After the swim, it was back to the hotel, but we spent a long time riding/waiting in traffic because of the traffic jams we encountered. We were on our own for dinner and the evening. Some went to a casino that was open in Jericho at the time. I was told the men had to have a jacket and I did not pack one for this bike trip, so I passed on the gambling trip. I enjoyed dinner at the hotel, wrote some postcards and tried to call home, but could not. Two women who went to the casino reported the next day that a jacket was not necessary.
On the day before, I got lost trying to find our kibbutz, but that became an advantage today; I knew the turns to take in order to get back to the main road. Wayne Smith and James Tannehill, two of the faster riders, stayed with me, the guide, at the start of this day. Once on the road, it was a fairly straight shot to Jericho. The early part of the ride was through a nice agricultural area, but as we got closer to Jericho, traffic increased, rude drivers became common (the little rock throwers grow up to be yelling, threatening teenagers in cars) and the scenery became more desert brown than agricultural green.
Our hotel today is very new and very nice. Service could be better, but maybe they are working that out. Some of us were at the hotel by noon, but there was no lunch service until 1 pm. Our rooms would not be ready until 1:30 or 2 pm, so we sat and waited. After lunch and check in, we boarded the van and rode south, past the caves at Qumran, then on to Masada. We could have climbed to the top, but everyone elected to ride the cable car to the top of Masada. It's an impressive fortress built by Herod, but more famous as the site of the Jewish hold outs against the Romans. Aviv gave us a good history of the place, then we were free to walk around and experience it for ourselves. After Masada, we got back in the van and went to a public beach on the Dead Sea for a swim. Actually, swimming is not what you do in the Dead Sea. The salt water makes you so buoyant that it is similar to bobbing like a cork. You cannot sink. And, if you try to swim, it is very strange because so much of your body is out of the water. After the swim, it was back to the hotel, but we spent a long time riding/waiting in traffic because of the traffic jams we encountered. We were on our own for dinner and the evening. Some went to a casino that was open in Jericho at the time. I was told the men had to have a jacket and I did not pack one for this bike trip, so I passed on the gambling trip. I enjoyed dinner at the hotel, wrote some postcards and tried to call home, but could not. Two women who went to the casino reported the next day that a jacket was not necessary.
Day 20 riding Jericho to Jerusalem
St. George's monastery, Judean desert
Today was to be our shortest day of riding, from Jericho to Jerusalem, less than 25 miles. But it was a difficult uphill climb all the way and we would enter Jerusalem hot and sweaty. I wanted to see as much of Jerusalem as possible, so I elected to ride in the van today, as did Ralph, Tom, Ernest and Jerry Brown. I'm glad I rode the van because the road out of Jericho was very steep, one lane and busy with cars, trucks and tour buses. Then, the final climb into Jerusalem was on a wide, nicely paved road, but it was crowded with traffic and no shoulder for bike riders. This was not my type of bike riding; the van was just fine today.
Our biking journey covered deserts in three countries, but the Judean desert between Jericho and Jerusalem was the most desolate of any I had biked through. 40 days and 40 nights in this desert; it is very hard to contemplate after experiencing it. Bike riders and van riders all met at Mt. Scopolus overlooking Jerusalem, then down to the Old City, where I got out of the bus and went on my own to experience this world famous city. Shortly after entering the Old City, a "guide" found me (looking very much like a tourist, I'm sure) and for $20, I had a private tour of the high points of the city. That was money well spent because, with a few words to the guards at various places, he was able to get me past lines of tourists at some of the more popular spots. When I was ready to leave the Old City, I went to the Jaffa Gate and found a taxi, told the driver the address of our hotel for the evening and negotiated a $12 fare. Then he asked if I wanted to see Bethlehem too, and for $40, it was a deal. It turned out that Bethlehem was much closer to the Old City than I knew, less than 10 miles, less than 5 miles from our hotel for the evening. Opportunity was knocking again, and I immediately answered and said "yes." The driver had one Palestinian and one Jordanian parent, which gave more freedom of movement than Palestinians alone. We got through the security and into Bethlehem, then I received another English speaking guided, private tour of the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, again bypassing the long lines of tourists.
Back at the hotel by 6 pm and we were taking our bikes apart, packing them away and getting close to the end of a great experience. After bike packing, it was time for dinner. But dinner at our hotel did not look inviting. Susan and Ralph were organizing an alternative plan, so Colleen, Jerry, "Titanium" Tom Maciag (so named because of his fine bike and strong riding) and I went to an area where the streets had been closed to vehicles and filled with shops and consumers of food, works of art, jewelry, clothing and whatever else you might want. It was an extensive outdoor shopping mall. We had an excellent meal in Jerusalem.
Our biking journey covered deserts in three countries, but the Judean desert between Jericho and Jerusalem was the most desolate of any I had biked through. 40 days and 40 nights in this desert; it is very hard to contemplate after experiencing it. Bike riders and van riders all met at Mt. Scopolus overlooking Jerusalem, then down to the Old City, where I got out of the bus and went on my own to experience this world famous city. Shortly after entering the Old City, a "guide" found me (looking very much like a tourist, I'm sure) and for $20, I had a private tour of the high points of the city. That was money well spent because, with a few words to the guards at various places, he was able to get me past lines of tourists at some of the more popular spots. When I was ready to leave the Old City, I went to the Jaffa Gate and found a taxi, told the driver the address of our hotel for the evening and negotiated a $12 fare. Then he asked if I wanted to see Bethlehem too, and for $40, it was a deal. It turned out that Bethlehem was much closer to the Old City than I knew, less than 10 miles, less than 5 miles from our hotel for the evening. Opportunity was knocking again, and I immediately answered and said "yes." The driver had one Palestinian and one Jordanian parent, which gave more freedom of movement than Palestinians alone. We got through the security and into Bethlehem, then I received another English speaking guided, private tour of the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, again bypassing the long lines of tourists.
Back at the hotel by 6 pm and we were taking our bikes apart, packing them away and getting close to the end of a great experience. After bike packing, it was time for dinner. But dinner at our hotel did not look inviting. Susan and Ralph were organizing an alternative plan, so Colleen, Jerry, "Titanium" Tom Maciag (so named because of his fine bike and strong riding) and I went to an area where the streets had been closed to vehicles and filled with shops and consumers of food, works of art, jewelry, clothing and whatever else you might want. It was an extensive outdoor shopping mall. We had an excellent meal in Jerusalem.
Day 21, Jerusalem as tourists
Rockefeller Museum, Jerusalem
Today we were tourists in Jerusalem. The breakfast buffet today was very modest, but since we were not riding, less food was fine with me. I then walked to a local post office I had seen the day before, bought stamps and mailed post cards to everyone at home. Back at our hotel, bikes and bags were loaded on the bus because late tonight, we are departing for New York City. The tour got off to a poor start when Rick, who arranged this entire trip, and our guide for the day got into a disagreement about where we would go, how much time we would spend at different places and the sort. Our guide was a retired army officer and seemed to think he would be giving orders to everyone on the bus. I concluded that a day with that arrogant guide would be tiresome, so I stayed on the bus and with the group until about 11 am. During that time, we drove through parts of Jerusalem, then to the Mount of Olives and Gethsemane and back to the Old City. I got off the bus at the first opportunity near the Old City, as did the others with whom I had dinner the night before (like minded people, I guess). I headed back into the Old City on my own, walking and absorbing. I found an internet cafe and was happy to use it. A sign of the times: a 30 minute telephone call cost 50 shekels; 30 minutes on the internet for emails cost 6 shekels. It is easy to see how the internet is going to force down telephone costs, or telephone companies are going to shrink.
At lunch in a small cafe in the Old City, I shared a table with a couple from Great Britain. They had just finished a tour of Jordan and came on their own to see Israel. They were very surprised to hear about my journey to Jerusalem. After lunch, I left by the Damascus Gate and walked the short distance to the Rockefeller Museum. The exhibits were amazing (but the Dead Sea scrolls were not there). I saw a stone that was above the entrance to the Damascus Gate from 100 BC to 200 AD, with an inscription regarding the 10th Roman Legion. I wondered how many Jews, and later Christians, walked through that gate and cursed the Roman occupiers or maybe avoided the Damascus Gate because of the inscription above it. I was able to use the library at the Rockefeller Museum and wished I had more time. It is full of history, written in English, French, Hebrew and probably more languages that I did not have time to discover. It was a relaxing hour in the library of this fine museum.
I left the museum and went back into the Old City, entering the Muslim quarter in the late afternoon, which was very quiet and the streets were mostly empty, unlike the Jewish quarter, the Christian quarter and the Armenian quarter where I had been on the prior day and earlier today. Dinner tonight was scheduled at a restaurant across from the Mt. Zion Hotel, and that hotel was, I had been assured, only a 10 minute walk from the Jaffa Gate. But, I could not find anyone to tell me how to find the Mt. Zion Hotel. While walking through the Old City, I ran into Rick and the rest of the group, who were finishing their tour in Old City. We had enough time to visit Bethlehem, so everyone got on the bus and we went back to where I had been the prior day. A second trip to Bethlehem was just fine with me. There was much construction activity in Bethlehem, in anticipation of the Pope's visit, but lights, posters and the like cannot hide the fact that Bethlehem is a poor town: poor housing, a walled refugee camp, dirty streets and crumbling infrastructure everywhere you looked.
We left Bethlehem and rode to the restaurant for our "good bye" dinner. It was an excellent meal, but that did not remove the sadness associated with knowing that we would be leaving in a short while. It was a great trip all-in-all and I am thankful that the invitation came to me from a company I had never heard of before. After dinner, Larry Herring got into a cab, bike bag, suitcase and self, and went to meet a friend and spend another week in Israel. We dropped Colleen McGuire off at the bus terminal; she was planning to spend additional time in Israel. The rest of us headed towards the airport, but Rick decided we had enough time to take a detour, so we drove to Tel Aviv and saw the place where Rabin was assassinated in 1995. Next, we rode to Jaffa and had a chance to walk around that old city on the Mediterranean. Then it was off to the airport and the check in process.
At lunch in a small cafe in the Old City, I shared a table with a couple from Great Britain. They had just finished a tour of Jordan and came on their own to see Israel. They were very surprised to hear about my journey to Jerusalem. After lunch, I left by the Damascus Gate and walked the short distance to the Rockefeller Museum. The exhibits were amazing (but the Dead Sea scrolls were not there). I saw a stone that was above the entrance to the Damascus Gate from 100 BC to 200 AD, with an inscription regarding the 10th Roman Legion. I wondered how many Jews, and later Christians, walked through that gate and cursed the Roman occupiers or maybe avoided the Damascus Gate because of the inscription above it. I was able to use the library at the Rockefeller Museum and wished I had more time. It is full of history, written in English, French, Hebrew and probably more languages that I did not have time to discover. It was a relaxing hour in the library of this fine museum.
I left the museum and went back into the Old City, entering the Muslim quarter in the late afternoon, which was very quiet and the streets were mostly empty, unlike the Jewish quarter, the Christian quarter and the Armenian quarter where I had been on the prior day and earlier today. Dinner tonight was scheduled at a restaurant across from the Mt. Zion Hotel, and that hotel was, I had been assured, only a 10 minute walk from the Jaffa Gate. But, I could not find anyone to tell me how to find the Mt. Zion Hotel. While walking through the Old City, I ran into Rick and the rest of the group, who were finishing their tour in Old City. We had enough time to visit Bethlehem, so everyone got on the bus and we went back to where I had been the prior day. A second trip to Bethlehem was just fine with me. There was much construction activity in Bethlehem, in anticipation of the Pope's visit, but lights, posters and the like cannot hide the fact that Bethlehem is a poor town: poor housing, a walled refugee camp, dirty streets and crumbling infrastructure everywhere you looked.
We left Bethlehem and rode to the restaurant for our "good bye" dinner. It was an excellent meal, but that did not remove the sadness associated with knowing that we would be leaving in a short while. It was a great trip all-in-all and I am thankful that the invitation came to me from a company I had never heard of before. After dinner, Larry Herring got into a cab, bike bag, suitcase and self, and went to meet a friend and spend another week in Israel. We dropped Colleen McGuire off at the bus terminal; she was planning to spend additional time in Israel. The rest of us headed towards the airport, but Rick decided we had enough time to take a detour, so we drove to Tel Aviv and saw the place where Rabin was assassinated in 1995. Next, we rode to Jaffa and had a chance to walk around that old city on the Mediterranean. Then it was off to the airport and the check in process.
Day 22 returning home to the USA
Jose Marti Airport, Havana, Cuba
Clearing security at the Tel Aviv airport went smoothly, but at the check in we had a small problem, mostly due to the counter folks not wanting to deal with a large number of bike riders, each with a suitcase and large bike case. Our group of 14, everyone except Tom VanDyke who arranged his own transportation, flew together to NYC, then left on our separate ways for our home towns. Our flight left shortly after 1 am, Tel Aviv time, and arrived in New York at 6 am (12 hours in flight, 7 hour time difference). The flight was full, completely full, and the few in our group who were in the business class section were the comfortable passengers.
Because our bike bags were the last bags off the plane, our group was the last to clear US customs. We had to open our bike bags while our bikes were inspected for, I learned, Middle East dirt. My bike was OK, but others had to clean all of the dirt from their bikes, especially the tires, before they were allowed to proceed. The shuttle to LaGuardia airport went well and I arrived safely in Indianapolis that afternoon. And the photo above, well, that's another trip. I don't have a photo of the Tel Aviv airport, Kennedy airport, LaGuardia airport or Weir Cook airport in Indianapolis, so I decided to use a photo taken at the Havana, Cuba airport in 2009, which was an equally interesting trip.
Because our bike bags were the last bags off the plane, our group was the last to clear US customs. We had to open our bike bags while our bikes were inspected for, I learned, Middle East dirt. My bike was OK, but others had to clean all of the dirt from their bikes, especially the tires, before they were allowed to proceed. The shuttle to LaGuardia airport went well and I arrived safely in Indianapolis that afternoon. And the photo above, well, that's another trip. I don't have a photo of the Tel Aviv airport, Kennedy airport, LaGuardia airport or Weir Cook airport in Indianapolis, so I decided to use a photo taken at the Havana, Cuba airport in 2009, which was an equally interesting trip.