Escape from Israel...

You know you're glad to get out of a place when the thought of Cairo and all its traffic, noise, pollution, and scams is not only stomachable, but actually evokes a feeling of longing. Yet that's the way I felt after a couple of days in Israel and the Holy City of Jerusalem.

Let's start from the beginning.

On Holy Saturday, April 3, Ben and I were in the middle of a familiar routine: waking up at the crack of dawn (oh wait, I actually didn't go to bed the night before, so I guess I didn't do any "waking up") in order to catch a bus to a new and exciting city. We had spent the past three days in Amman, and although Petra was quite a spectacle and the crusader castle at Karak was all fine and dandy, we were a little disappointed with our time in Jordan. We had spent far too much money in the relatively expensive country, had gotten thoroughly scorched and broken down while hiking for eight hours in Petra, and had missed visiting the Roman ruins in Jerrash on what turned out to be a highly unproductive Friday (we spent two hours sitting in a bus- that was not moving...enough said). We were hoping Israel would provide some invigoration and a fitting finale to our two week journey.

We took a 7 am bus from Amman to the King Hussein/Allenby Bridge border crossing. Here we transferred buses and were shuttled across to the Israeli side, and prepared to be processed (I love the sound of that). Similar to the mystique surrounding crossing into Syria, there is a lot of hype and hysteria surrounding entrance procedures at Israeli borders. For starters, there's the whole deal about getting the dreaded "stamp of death." Basically, because Israel is considered a state enemy of several Muslim majority countries (Iran, Lebanon, Syria, Indonesia for starters), the presence of an Israeli visa stamp in your passport will prevent from gaining admittance into any of them. Apparently you could ask to get your visa stamped on a separate piece of paper, but there were tales of custom officers either ignoring your request or "forgetting" and stamping your passport "accidentally."

And before you could even think about worrying about the visa itself, you had to pass through security. This was considered an especially difficult task if you'd visited Arab countries beforehand (ding ding ding!). There are stories of people being detained and grilled for hours at the border and others being rejected for no apparent reason. Needless to say, I was a little nervous as we made our way into the facility, especially with my passport chalk full of Lebanese and Syrian stamps, as well as the fact that I had in my possession a book that featured Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and King Abdullah shaking hands on the cover.

The process itself wasn't too bad- probably only forty five minutes in total. Nonetheless, there were a couple of disconcerting moments. For one, seeing a teenager wearing plainclothes- a nice green polo and some khakis if I recall correctly- and shouldering a decked out M4 assault rifle definitely is cause to pause. Another image, or rather experience, that messed with my mind was being grilled by teenage girls, who serve as Israel's primary custom agents. I came away from that feeling a little vulnerable and confused. But whatever. We were through, and on our way to the holiest of holies, Jerusalem.

We settled into the little shuttle that would be taking us to J-town. During the 25 minute drive, we struck up a conversation with an interesting French woman who has been traveling away from home for three years and apparently believes that sharks are our "friends." Nice, but crazy. After a while, we entered a tunnel leading directly through a cliffy hillside. When we emerged on the other side, our eyes were drawn immediately to the golden dome of the Temple of the Rock. We were in Jerusalem.

We got dropped outside the Damascus Gate. Now the real fun began. For some unknown reason, during the the 3+ hours that I had spent on the computer the night before when I was refraining from sleep, I had neglected to find out the location of where we'd be staying, the New Swedish Hostel. I knew it was in the Old City, but after that, well, I wasn't too sure. So without really knowing where we were or where we were going, we entered through the gate and plunged into the madness that is Jerusalem's Old City.

The streets of the Old City are narrow and crowded, and that's on a good day. The scene that unfolded before was absolute pandemonium. Apparently there was an event that afternoon that everybody and their uncle wanted to attend.Throngs of eager pilgrims mauled anyone who got in their way. Little old ladies clutched at Israeli security personnel and begged them to let them through closings in the street. After a few minutes of trying to deal with the insanity, Ben and I concluded that it'd be a good day to check out some of the sites outside of the Old City walls.


We headed out the Jaffa Gate, walked around the outer wall and eventually came to Mt. Zion, where the featured attractions included King David's Tomb as well as the room where Jesus and his disciples broke bread in the Last Supper. After that, we set out for the Garden of Gethsemane on the Mount of Olives, where we saw the Church of All Nations, caught an outside glance of the Cathedral of Mary Magdalene, and put ourselves in good position for some panorama views of the Temple Mount and the rest of the Old City opposite us.



We headed back in to the Old City, where things had calmed down a bit. I was about ready to collapse. I hadn't slept the night before, and climbing up hills in the scorching heat with pre-existing sunburn was not the ideal remedy. I contemplated taking a nap, but decided to man up and see what else we could do that night. We looked for some food, but almost everything we found was absurdly overpriced, at least by Middle Eastern standards. We were about to go hungry until we ran into a hole-in-the-wall establishment serving kebab sandwiches for a somewhat reasonable 8 shekels (conversion rate is 3.7 shekels to a dollar, so a sandwich was about $2.20).

We returned to the hostel after eating. It came to our conclusion that staying in the overpriced hostel in the midst of this overpriced city was probably not the best way to end what had been an extremely frugal trip, so we canceled our reservation for Monday night. The plan was to leave Monday and get back to Cairo with enough time to get things together before classes started on Wednesday. Sounded good.

As for the next day, Easter Sunday, we had planned to wake up early in the morning, check out the Temple Mount, and then make our way to 10:30 Mass at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. However, we kept on hearing from everyone and their mother about some amazing service that occurred at midnight. So at 11:30, we headed over to the Holy Sepulcher and checked it out.

First off, a description of the Church of the Holy Sepulcher is in order. Or rather, an attempted description. It is simply something that cannot described. It is easily the most bizarre, wonderful, strange, odd, baffling buildings I have been in. Calling it simply a "church" doesn't do it justice because it is really so much more. It's a monumental structure of domed ceilings and narrow passages, that gives off the vibe of a crypt or a labyrinth. Ben described it as eclectic, a sort of hodge-podge of a variety of different elements. Its history of construction, destruction, and reconstruction, that spans a thousand years, certainly helps to explain why.

The Church of the Holy Sepulcher stands today on the spot where most Christian sects believe Jesus was crucified. In addition to this sacred site, the complex (for indeed, that's what it really is) houses several other highly significant relics and holy spots, including the Stone of the Anointing, where Christ's body was prepared for burial, and the Holy Sepulcher itself, the tomb where Jesus was laid after death. Thousands of Christian pilgrims visit it each day to touch or simply view these holy spectacles. We had actually visited a few hours earlier and waited in line for an for the opportunity to enter the Aedicule, where the tomb of Jesus is housed. The building is practically overflowing with relics and shrines, and it probably would've taken a solid couple of days to see them all. Click here to read a bit more about the Church of the Holy Sepulcher.

Anyway, the service, or whatever we attended, was truly fascinating. I'm not entirely sure what went down, but it was quite a sight to behold. A procession of Greek Orthodox, Coptic, Russian Orthodox, Armenian Catholic, and Roman Catholic religious men proceeded throughout the packed quarters to the Aedicule, where some type of traditional ritual was being performed. My senses were overwhelmed as a sea of people pressed in all around me, heavy incense wafted to and fro, candles flickered in the darkness, and the tones of chimes and bells echoed across the domed ceiling.It was a surreal experience. Here's some video footage of what went down.

 I always forget that you can't film things vertically

After sticking around for three hours with no foreseeable end in sight, we headed back to the New Swedish Hostel and got to sleep. Our plan for the next morning was now slightly altered, and we attended Easter Mass at the Holy Sepulcher, joined by our friend Erin from ND, before anything else. The service was in Latin and the building isn't exactly laid out in a way that is conducive for celebrating Mass with hundreds of people, but it was still an amazing experience.

After a lunch of candy (not only was it justifiable because it was Easter, but also because it was the cheapest stuff around), we headed to the eastern part of the Old City. We checked out the Wailing Wall (the last remaining remnant of the Holy Temple, where the Holy of Holies resided), and then made our way into the Temple Mount where we snapped some pictures in front of golden plated Dome of the Rock (built on the spot where Muslims believe Muhammad will be ascended into Heaven). It was pretty astounding to think about it: In less than an hour, we had visited some of the holiest sites of the world's three monotheistic religions, all of them within probably a square half mile of each other. Crazy.




Following our site seeing blitz, we were off to bus station in central Jerusalem to figure out our transportation situation for the following day. Along the way, we talked to some American girls who delivered some horrible news to us: the following day was Shabbat, the last day of Passover for Jews, and a significant national holiday. There would be no public transportation running until dusk. Our best bet would be to hire a private taxi to take us to Tel Aviv, where we could maybe catch a bus south toward Egypt. We hurried back to the Old City where we found an internet cafe that had phone services. We looked up the number for a taxi company, but our worst fear was confirmed: they had closed early for Shabbat. We were screwed. We looked online to see when buses were running, but we wouldn't even be able to get out of Jerusaelm until 8 pm, meaning we wouldn't get to the Israel-Egypt border till early early morning, well before (or after) any buses left for Cairo. Things looked bleak.

We ran into some other AUC students I knew from class that night, who likewise wanted to get out of expensive,crazy Jerusalem and back to Cairo ASAP. They said they had heard about a bus leaving from Jerusaelm at 8 am for the southern city of Eilat. It sounded too good to be sure. And sure enough, after waking up at 6 am the next day to catch it, it wasn't there. What now?

Fortunately, we were able to catch a service taxi to Tel Aviv  a little after 8. However, when we got to Tel Aviv, we were presented with another problem: the bus station wouldn't open until 5 pm. Not only did we want to get out of there as early as we could because we wanted to get back to Egypt, but also because we were in what appeared to be Israel's version of a ghetto, complete with impoverished looking minorities and run down buildings. Not an ideal place for five foreigners saddled with luggage to be hanging out.

We had initially ignored the horde of taxi drivers who wanted to charge us 1000+ shekels for a ride to Eilat ($270 or $54 a person). But after gathering up four others who wanted to travel to Eilat and getting an offer for 900 shekels, we agreed. However, as it turns out, we had agreed to get in a taxi with the driver from hell. The man was insane. He was large and scary and had soulless eyes. I thought at numerous times that he was going to eat me. Other taxi drivers even warned us about going with him, though at the time I dismissed this as jealousy that he had landed the gig.

When we left the station he demanded payment immediately, something generally unprecedented when taking transportation in the Middle East. When we said we'd pay when we got there, he absolutely flipped out. He spoke no English at all, only really angry Hebrew, so on occasion I'd yell something random at him like "PIZZA!" just for kicks. He actually drove around the block the station was on until we all paid up. We settled in for what we thought could be the last ride of our lives.

But overall, it was an uneventful trip, aside from stopping in the middle of the highway so the driver could get out and pee, as well as our 15 minute pull over session with multiple police cars (I was convinced he was a mass murderer, would shoot the cops, and then come back to the bus to finish us of). But aside from these detours, the guy made pretty good time.

We arrived in Eilat at about 4:45, then caught a taxi to the border crossing. There, we were in for a rude surprise: a 98 shekel exit fee. We'd seen some mention of an exit fee in the book, but we weren't really expecting to pay it. Places like Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan had loosely enforced their visa fees, so why couldn't Israel do so for a couple of Americans? Whatever.

We walked across the border and into Taba, Egypt. Unfortunately, we missed the 4:30 Cairo bus (Cairo is one hour behind Israel) by only a few minutes, so we had to settle for hiring someone to drive us back, and did so for 150 pounds each. But before we left, we were in for another disappointment: a 75 pound entrance fee into Egypt, even though we all had student visas and had been living there for at least two months. Madness.

The ride from Taba to Cairo flew by. There was one cause for concern, however. At the Suez Canal, we switched vans and drivers. We paid the first driver the full amount and then he gave the second driver a cut of it. So, lo and behold, when we got to Cairo, the driver refused to take us to a metro, as we had been promised, and tried to drop us off in a section miles away from Downtown. He'd already gotten his money, so what did he care?

One of the girls we were with called an Egyptian friend of hers who came to our rescue and got cabs for us back to our respective residences (we were out of money at that point). Ben and I got back to the AUC dorm in Zamalek sometime before 1 am, and, of course, welcomed ourselves back with a bowl of koshari. It had been a long, tiring, frustrating, and day but at least we were back. However, there was no denying how EXPENSIVE the events of the day had been. Here's a recap, broken down by how much I paid for each service:

10 shekel cab to the bus station in Jerusalem ($2.70)
30 shekel service taxi to Tel Aviv ($8.20)
100 shekel for transportation to Eilat ($27)
25 shekel for taxi ride to border ($6.75)
98 shekel exit visa ($26.50)
75 Egyptian pound entry fee ($13.90)
150 Egyptian pound ride back to Cairo ($27.75)
DAY'S TOTAL: $112.80

What a horrible way to end what had otherwise been an extremely frugal trip. But overall, the trip was amazing, and I will address it in full in the coming days. Israel wasn't that bad I suppose. I think the negative experience there was a factor of being tired and exhausted and in the last leg of our trip. If we'd done it first, we probably would've loved it. Additionally, a lot of the problems, like the complication woes on Monday, were partially our fault for not seriously looking into things ahead of time. Oh well, you live and you learn.

As I said, I'll be doing some full scale reviews of my trip in the upcoming days. If there is anything at all you want to know (along the lines of What was the best meal you had/favorite site you saw/biggest surprise you experienced? etc, feel free to email me them or leave them in the comment section and I'll to address them.

Lent is a time of reflection...

...and it's almost over. So before Easter Sunday is finally here, I'm going to take a brief moment to reflect (review is probably a more appropriate term but I'm in the Easter spirit!) on my amazing spring break journey thus far. I'll provide links to pictures where available (I have a whole bunch basically from Aleppo onward that I haven't been able to upload yet).

Tuesday, March 23
Ben and I woke up in the early morning and caught a cab to Cairo International Airport. A couple of hours later, we were on board an 11:50 Middle Eastern Airlines flight bound for Beirut. After touching down in B-town and going through (the perplexingly challenging) customs, we caught a cab (that was way overpriced) and headed into town. After checking into our hotel we explored the beautiful campus of the American University in Beirut, and then wandered into town as the sun set and got a little lost.

Wednesday, March 24
Our classmates back at AUC were still in school, but Ben and I were on to our first attraction. We took some public transportation to Dawra, a circle in Beirut where buses congregate, and were soon on our way north to the Mediterranean town of Byblos. There, we explored a beautiful crusader castle, strolled through the quaint cobblestone streets, and I even took a dip into the beautifully blue sea. A short time after noon, we were on to our second destination of the day: the Jeita Grotto. We caught a bus back toward Beirut and it drop us off at the junction where the road to Jeita began. We caught a cab up the hill and through a valley and were soon at the grotto. The caves inside were truly captivating and its a shame we couldn't take pictures. We finished our time at Jeita with a subterranean boat ride in the lower cave aboard a vessel powered by an electric motor. After that, we said screw the taxi, and walked an hour and half back to the main highway, passing by some of the most gorgeous valley scenery I've seen in my life.

Thursday, March 25
We woke up very early and took a taxi to the Cola transport hub in south-side Beirut. From here, we took a minibus east, passing over some of the most treacherous mountain highway I've ever encountered. Our destination was the ancient Roman ruins of Baalbek, located two hours from Beirut, squarely located in Hizbollah territory. Upon arrival in Baalbek, we entered the site and spent the next four hours or so making our way through what certainly must be some of the most impressive Roman ruins in the world. When our sightseeing was over, we grabbed lunch, headed back to Beirut, and prepared for the evening. After a couple of overpriced drinks at a bar called The Blue Note (which charged us a hidden fee of $15 for the live music!) we tried our luck at getting into one Beirut's trendy night clubs, BO18. No luck. Those bouncers were some cold-hearted SOBs.

Friday, March 26
On our last day in Beirut, we explored the National Museum and discovered a treasure trove of artifacts and displays. Following our time at the National Museum, we set out in attempt to locate two more, the Robert Mouwad Museum and the Cirsock Museum. After searching for over two hours, we discovered that the Robert Mouwad Museum apparently no longer exists, while the Cirsock Museum was closed due to construction. We used the rest of the day to re-explore downtown Beirut, including its posh shopping areas, fancy eateries, as well as the imposing Al-Asin Mosque and its neighbor, St. George's Maronite Cathedral. After this, we rested up in preparation for the unpredictability that the next day held.


Saturday, March 27
Ben and I were at the Charles Helou Bus Station in time to catch a 7:30 am departure bound for Aleppo, Syria. When we reached the border some three hours later, the bus went on without us as we were left to deal with the Middle Eastern tourist rite-of-passage that is acquiring a Syrian visa at the border, something technically not allowed. However, the process was fairly painless, and only took three and half hours, certainly less than the five we had been anticipating. Once on the Syrian side, we caught a minibus to Homs and then a bigger bus to Aleppo. It was dark and rainy when we arrived, but nonetheless, after checking in at our hotel, we started exploring, a move that proved fruitless until we realized we'd been interpreting our map wrong for the past hour.

Sunday, March 28
Sunday was an all-day Aleppo day. We began with a visit to the plateau-topping Islamic citadel, an impenetrable structure with a single bridge for an entrance that evoked images from Lord of the Rings. After this, we explored the medieval bazaars of Aleppo, the Great Mosque, and then followed it up with a healthy does of churches in the Christian Quarter, most of which were unfortunately closed.

Monday, March 29
Our final destination for the day was Syria's capital of Damascus, but before that, we had an important detour: the legendary crusader castle known as Krak des Chevalliers. We took an early morning train from Aleppo to Homs and then caught a bus to Krak. We spent the next three or so hours exploring the massive structure. It was a bit cold out, but the gloomy skies added to the mystic of the place, and gave us a sense of foreboding that must would-be-siegers had to have felt when approaching the castle. Following Krak, we went back to Homs and then to Damascus. Night began to set in as we briefly explored this unfamiliar city, but we had an extremely memorable night. A visit to St. Anthony's Catholic Church yielded a meet and greet with Father Mark, a Spaniard who actually used to preside at the church I attend every Sunday in Cairo. Another exciting religious experience soon followed, as we were invited into a mosque to celebrate the Birth of the Prophet. We were provided with candy and nuts, given a front row seat, and listened to the entrancing song and fiery speeches for nearly two hours. After this, we returned to our hotel where I found out what sleeping on a roof means in hostel-speak.

Tuesday, March 30
 We woke up early this morning- apparently too early for many of the attractions in Damascus's legendary walled Old City. We walked around for awhile before begining our sight-filled day, which included stops at the House of St. Anias (who baptized St. Paul) and St. Paul's Chapel (where St. Paul was lowered out of a window in a basket in order to escape the Jews). Following this, we entered the massive complex of the Ummayid Mosque, which was not only the biggest mosque I've been in yet, but also one of the most ornately designed. The mosque was also home of the final resting place of the legendary Islamic leader, Salah al-Din, a personal favorite of mine. After we'd exhausted all the Old City had to offer us, we took a minibus 40 minutes north to the sleepy little town of Malula. The main attractions here were Saint Takla's Convent and the Convent of St. Sergius and St. Bacchus (which boasts the oldest altar in the world), not to mention one of the few communities on earth that still speak Aramaic, the language that Jesus spoke.

Wednesday, March 31
Our goal for the day was to get to Amman, Jordan, but on the way we stopped at Bosra, Syria, which has the world's only freestanding amphitheater, a truly impressive structure. After Bosra we made our way to the Jordanian border, where the entrance process was relatively smooth. We had planned to see the Roman ruins at Jerash on our way to Amman, but we were in for a rude surprise: Jordan was an hour ahead of Syria, meaning we wouldn't be able to make it before the site closed. A little disappointed, we made it to Amman, checked in, and wandered around for a bit before turning in for the night.

Thursday, April 1
We were up at the crack of dawn, and caught a taxi to the JETT Bus Station, where we bought a ticket to Wadi Musa, the modern day town located right outside the ancient stone city of Petra, which is one of the "New Seven Wonders of the World." We entered Petra at about ten o'clock and proceeded to hike and climb in grueling fashion across nearly every square foot it had to offer, finishing our day off at the legendary Monastery nearly eight hours later. We returned to Wadi Musa, ate some dinner, found a place to sleep, and then collapsed into bed, nursing our tired feet and our severely sun burned shoulders.

Friday, April 2
On the agenda for the day was a visit to the crusader castle at Karak, followed by a trip north of Amman to Jerash, which we had missed a couple days earlier. There wasn't actually a bus straight to Karak from Wadi Musa, so we had to settle for one that dropped us off at a junction 36 kilometers east of our destination. We waited around for a few minutes before flagging down a bus, and in a few minutes we were at the foot of the cliff where the legendary castle of the dastardly Reynaud des Chatiollens (spelling!)  stood. Apparently this guy used to take prisoners and throw them off the walls of the castle 400 meters to their death, even going to the trouble of putting a wooden box around their head so they wouldn't pass out before they hit the ground. After seeing the views from the castle, we could understand why one would pass out if the bottom of the valley was rushing to meet them. After Karak, we attempted to find a bus to Amman, where we would find transport to Jerash. Unfortunately, because it was Friday, transportation options were all but nil. We located a bus after awhile, but it took over two hours to get moving from the time we got on! Needless to say, we didn't make it to Jerash, and were lucky to make it to Amman before five. We spent the rest of the evening walking about and lounging in the hotel, still coping with the sunburn and exhaustion that Petra had doled out a day earlier.

Well, that's about it. It's 5:33 am, local time here in Amman, Jordan on Saturday, April 3. We're just over an hour away from boarding a bus that will take us to the Israeli border, where we will hopefully be granted entry. I'm looking forward to celebrating Easter in Jerusalem and exploring the Holy City for a couple of days before making my way back to Cairo on Tuesday.

Talk to you then, if not earlier.

Oh, and have a Happy Easter!
 

A brief update from Amman..

Hey everyone...it's been awhile. Between the spotty internet access and the excessive traveling, it's simply too hard to keep this thing updated. Anyway, I am currently in an internet cafe in Jordan's capital city of Amman. I'll be able to do posts and updates once I'm back in Cairo, in about a week. Talk to you then.

Operation: Syria...

On the morning of Saturday, March 26th, 2010, Benjamin Gavel and I woke up at 6:30 a.m. on the dot, ready for the challenge that lay before us. It was go time- we were crossing the border into Syria in a matter of hours.

Crossing the Syrian border is something of a rite of passage for Middle Eastern travelers. It’s a process that is shrouded in mystique and uncertainty (if you can name where the italics portion is taken from, you’ll win a special gift). Although you are officially required to obtain a visa from the Syrian embassy in your home country prior to reaching the border, many travelers have shared tales of successfully acquiring visas at the border. However, though most people we talked to felt we had a fair shake at getting visas at the border, our Lonely Planet guide book, as well the US government, went to great lengths to stress that this option was a significant gamble and nothing was guaranteed.

Nonetheless, Ben and I were determined to get our visas at the border. We’d heard a Syrian visa was only $18 at the border, as opposed to the $130 one would drop if they went through the embassy. This bargain, of course, did not come without a sacrifice: we’d been told to expect to wait for about 5-7 hours to get your visa at the border station. Some waited this long only to be rejected, apparently at the whim of a Syrian customs agent.

Ben and I took every precaution we could think of in order to assure that our chances for getting a visa and crossing were as high as possible. We printed all of our hotel reservations in Syria, as well as ours in Jordan, so they knew we would be out of the country in a few days. We even printed off ferry information from Jordan to Egypt to hide the fact that we were, indeed, proceeding to Israel after Amman, a travel detail that would have surely gotten us denied if it had been revealed. We were even prepared to wait for as long as it would take to get a visa, and had set aside the duration of the day for just that purpose.

So with an emboldened sense of purpose, we grabbed our bags, left the Regis Hotel, and caught a taxi to the Charles Helou transport hub. We arrived in time to catch a 7:30 a.m. bus that’s final destination was Aleppo, forking over 17,000 LL for our tickets.

Our bus headed north, along the Mediterranean coast. The scenic views of the sea from the mountain side roads were stupendous, but Ben and I became more and more concerned with the impending border crossing with every mile traveled. When we reached Tripoli, a mere half hour from the border, our anxiety reached panic levels. Will the bus wait for us if we have to wait 5+ hours? Can we get half our money back? What if the bus takes off with our bags still on board? What if we get completely rejected, where too then, Cyprus? Needless to say, I was feeling a little pessimistic at the time, and was prepared for the worst.

Our first order of business at the border was getting our Lebanese exit visa, a painless process that took all of five minutes. We got back on the bus and drove forward, officially out of Lebanon and into Syria.

At the Syrian customs office, we approached the agent under the “foreign arrivals” sign, not exactly sure what to do next. A big sign displayed on a wall to the left, that read foreigners “must obtain a visa from the Syrian embassy prior to arrival at the border” certainly did help our high levels of anxiety. The officer took our passports looked them over, and told us it would be five hours. He then indicated that we should take a nap to pass the time.

But that was it. No cross-examination or intrusive grilling about the purpose of our visit or where we were going next. No questioning as to why we didn’t already have a visa. The agent took our passports, told us it would be awhile, and that was that. So much for “official” government policy. The bus we’d come on wouldn’t be waiting for us (and its driver refused to even give back some of our money), but that was no longer a concern.

We sat on the floor of the building for a while, people-watching the stream of Arabs that would pour in with each incoming bus. I grew restless after a while and wondered outside. The little border crossing village we were out was a bit of a dump. I entertained myself for a while by mooing loudly at a grazing cow.

At the two and half hour mark, what we thought would be the half-way point of our wait, Ben and I grabbed lunch from a local vender. For 50 Syrian pounds each (about one American dollar), we each had a wrap containing hearty eggs and veggies as well as a delicious chocolate ice cream treat. After four days in Lebanon, one of the more expensive Middle Eastern countries, it was nice to be back in a place where an entire meal was attainable for around a buck.

We returned to our waiting place in the customs office, prepared to wait another two and a half hours or more. But to our delight, a mere half hour after lunch, a customs agent came out from behind the counter, directed us to another office in the facility where we paid our $16 visa fee, and returned to the office where we received our stamp. The total process took about three and half hours, significantly less than we had been expecting. We had also spent a couple less dollars on the fee than we’d been told as well. Boy were we feeling good.

Our next order of business was getting to Aleppo for the night. We couldn’t find any direct routes, but found plenty of minibuses headed to Homs, a town that serves as a major crossroads for inter-Syrian travel. We paid 100 SL (think $2) for one, and settled in for the ride.

The Syrian country side was impressively green and lush. Most of the landscape alternated between tall, rolling hills and open, flat prairies. I’m not sure what I had expected, but this was nice. We got to Homs after about an hour and a half and then quickly caught another 100 SL bus headed for Aleppo.

The bus ride took just under three hours, and I attempted to sleep for most it. I awoke as we made our way into the outskirts of Aleppo. It was dark and rain was coming down hard. We had reservations at a hotel, but at this point we realized we would probably be dropped off at a location we weren't familiar with, in an expansive city of 4 million, on a dark, cold, and wet night.

Normally Ben and I attempt to walk everywhere, but we both came to a consensus that getting a taxi to our hotel was certainly appropriate in this situation. We found a cabdriver and agreed to have him take us to our hotel for 200 SL (four dollars-ish). His friends apparently thought this was a rip-off because the burst out laughing upon our acceptance of this price, but we really didn't care at this point. We got in the taxi, joined by an Austrian guy headed to Turkey, and were on our way.

We got to our hotel, Al-Gawaher, about 20 minutes later, paid the cabbie, and checked in. It was a small place tucked away in an alley, but it certainly had some charm. Our room was triangular shaped and was nice and cozy. Outside our room was an open area with couches and chairs lining the wall and interesting Arabic artwork and trinkets scattered around. The accommodations were similar to those at the Regis Hotel, but the price was better (1,000 SL a night for the room, so about 10 dollars a piece) and the staff was much friendlier, though the lack of free wireless internet was a bit of a drawback.

After leaving our bags in our room, we decided to brave the weather and do a little exploring. We headed out into the street and began to determine our whereabouts, based on the map provided by Lonely Planet. Our first priority was discovering an exchange so we could get some serious Syrian currency, so we consulted our map to find one, and headed off in the what we thought was the correct direction. To no avail. Wherever we went, we just couldn't seem to find anything we were looking for. We'd come to place that were clearly represented on the map, but when we headed up a street we thought would take us one way, it took us somewhere completely else. It was baffling and infuriating, and I was considering ripping up the book.

An hour later, something brought about an epiphany of sorts. We had had our directions screwed up the entire time. What we thought was west was actually north. When we came out of the hotel we had misjudged which way we had turned to get to a central landmark, a giant clock tower, and had based our internal compass on this mistake. After discovering this, things started to click, and we were easily navigating our way around the city (though none of the exchanges were open). I was both relieved and a little embarrassed. I had been moments away from giving up on the guide book's map when in reality it had been my own error (though, to be fair to myself, the map occupies to pages and our hotel is marked right at the crease in between the pages, making it tough to see exactly where it is situated in relation to the places on the other page).

When our wandering had concluded, we returned to the hotel and got headed to bed. It had been an interesting day, marked by moments of high anxiety and sheer terror, followed by relief. We had made it through the Syrian border in record time, and had even gotten ourselves familiar with Aleppo, allowing the next day's exploration to proceed more smoothly. All in all, "Operation: Syria" was a success in my book.

Bon voyage, Beirut...

After three and half action-packed, sight-filled, highly-fulfilling days in Beirut and beyond, it's just about time for Ben and I to wrap up the first leg of our journey and move on to Part II, Syria. But first, a recap of our last day in Lebanon and our overall impressions of the country and its capital city.

Today was a day simply devoted to wrapping up a few loose ends and seeing all of the sights in Beirut we hadn't quite gotten to(as well as those we'd seen at night and hadn't been able to get quality pictures of).

Our first order of business was printing out our hotel reservations for Aleppo, Damascus, and Amman, as a precautionary measure to help our chances of crossing the border into Syria successfully. Although you are "officially" supposed to acquire a Syrian visa from the embassy in your home country, many travelers have been able to obtain them at Syrian border crossings. It's not necessarily a guarantee that you'll get in, but it's a gamble that we were willing to take, especially considering that visas at the border cost $100 less than ones obtained from the embassy. Don't ask me why. Having proof that we would be staying at hotels in Syria and, perhaps more importantly, would be exiting for Jordan after only three days, would certainly help to facilitate the visa-approval process, which can apparently takes about 5 hours on average. Fortunately, we've devoted an entire day to crossing the border.

After that busy work, we grabbed some cheap breakfast (a cooked cheesy wrap for 2000 LL) and took a cab to the National Museum of Beirut, a "most see" according to our Lonely Planet travel guide. The museum didn't disappoint. It was an astounding collection of art work and artifacts from the ancient world, much of it coming from 2nd century BC through 4th century AD. Although the sculptures and images had a recognizable Roman or Egyptian or Byzantine flair to them, it was interesting to note that they had all been produced in the Beirut vicinity. In fact, many of them had been discovered in Byblos, the town 30 km to north that we had visited just two days before. The fact that so many different types of artwork had been produced in Lebanon highlights the great variety of imperial influences that have shaped the country's history and culture over the centuries. For some great pics (and a movie) from inside the museum, head to the Beirut album and scroll about halfway through.



Next on our agenda was a trip to the Robert Mouwad Museum (spelling is off), a private mansion that houses an impressive collection of jewelry and impressionist art. However, though our Lonely Planet guide was spot on with regards to its recommendation of the National Museum, its directions to the Robert Mouwad Museum were very poor. Despite being convinced that we had arrived at the location the book illustrates, there was no museum to be found. Although, to be fair, we did discover an old mansion, not in use, across from a office tower entitled "Robert Mouwad Building." Perhaps the museum was once housed in the mansion and had simply closed?

Though a little disappointed, we moved on and attempted to locate another museum. We eventually came across this one (name escapes me), but it was unfortunately under construction, and not open. Bummer. We had spent over two hours trying to track down museums that were either closed or non-existent.

Our wanderings had been fruitless, but at least they had placed us smack dab in downtown Beirut. We were able to revisit many of the sights that were unphotographable a couple of nights before, such as the al-Amin Mosque and St. George's Maronite Cathedral (pictured right next to each other in the picture below), although we were prevented by security from taking pictures of the prime minister's residence, a bit of a disappointment. We headed back to Hamra, grabbed some dinner, and called it a day.



Beirut, and Lebanon as a whole, is a highly complex place. Throughout my brief time here, I was overwhelmingly struck by the dualistic nature that defines this country and its capital. For instance, although many areas of Beirut carry a distinctly European vibe, walking a few kilometers from downtown will bring you to an area that is far more similar to Cairo than it is to Paris.The Muslim-Christian dichotomy is also very noticeable. For the most part, the two religions seem to come together to form the complete picture of Lebanon, as I've attempted to illustrate with the image above. Churches and mosques are spread uniformly throughout the city, and Muslim and Christians live side by side in relative peace. However, it is difficult to forget the sad consequences that have emerged when the country's religious factions were unable to resolve their differences. Also striking was the contrast between the new glitzy and glammy developments in Beirut and the scorched and bullet-ridden buildings that often stood a few feet meters away. A similar visual of this apparent paradox is the sight of Porsches and Ferarris driving down streets lined with razor wire and guarded by armed guards and a tank.

This type of dichotomous relationship also defined our experiences in Lebanon. On the one hand, there were several highs, most notably our day trips to Byblos, the Jeita grotto, and Baalbek, the delicious food we had in Beirut, as well as the sense of accomplishment we developed when we could use the mass transit with ease or make our way back to the hotel from kilometers away on intuition and sign-reading alone. But there were also some low points, including getting overcharged for our taxi ride from the airport, getting denied entrance at a club on Thursday night, getting ripped off at a bar, and staying in an expensive, but inadequate hotel. As Ben (who I'm beginning to realize is very wise) said, it's important not to weigh our overall time in Lebanon based on a few individual incidents, but instead, to reflect upon the overall experience. With this in mind, my Lebanese experience has been phenomenal. I've gotten to see several breath-taking, one-in-a-million sights and I've been able to get somewhat of a feel for this truly unique culture and country, that is distinctly Arab and European, Christian and Muslim, at the same time.

With this reflection fresh in my mind, I prepare to say good-bye to Beirut and Lebanon as we depart for Syria tomorrow morning. We're not entirely sure how it'll work, but we're planning to catch a bus at 7:30 am, get dropped off at the border, acquire a Syrian visa (God help us!), and make it to Aleppo by night-fall. Feel free to wish us good luck...we'll probably need it.

When in Baalbeck...

Who would've thought that some of the world's most impressive Roman ruins would be in Lebanon? Not me.

But after a day in Baalbek, I can definitively confirm that if you want to see ancient Roman stuff, don't waste your time in Italy, come out here to the Middle East. I've never been a huge ancient Roman guy, but I was blown away by the scope, the grandeur, and the durability of the Roman structures at Baalbek, which include a Temple of Jupiter that is the largest Roman temple in the WORLD. IN LEBANON. CRAZY.

The ride out there was two hours and 6000 LL ($4) and it was through some of the craziest, most treacherous mountain passes ever (foggy as crap on the way back!), plus Baalbeck is located in Hezbollah territory, but it was absolutely worth it! A must see for any Roman enthusiast or anyone out in this area, period. Follow the link to pictures and maybe even some exciting panorama videos if they've loaded.

Crusdaers, castles, cliffs, and caves...

Very action-packed, fulfilling day today in Lebanon, perhaps my best day yet so far in the Middle East! Highlights included a visit to the crusader castle and Roman ruins of Byblos, a spontaneous dip in the clear blue Mediterranean, a boat ride in the underground lake of the Jeita Grotto, and a beautiful scenic stroll along the Mt. Lebanon valley ridge.

I'll hopefully be able to do the day justice with a decent blog entry, but until then, feel free to take a look at some of the 160+ pictures from the day by following this link. William, David, and the rest of you, look at the ruins of the crusader castle and see if you can't wager a guess as to who I pretended to be as I was climbing around the rocks.

Touch down in B-town...

Well, one day into the trip, one day with internet access. So far so good.

Ben and I woke up this morning at about 8:30, grabbed a cab to Cairo International, and, after hanging out for a while, we were on board our 11:50 Middle East Airlines flight to Beirut.

The plane was pretty comfortable, and I slept for nearly all of the hour and half long flight. However, I did wake up just as we were descending into Beirut, and I'm glad I did. The view was breathtaking. The Mediterranean and the city itself merged together almost seamlessly, and the sprawling mountains to the east formed an impressive backdrop. The city is positioned so perfectly between the sea and the mountains that the three elements seem to blend together in a way that makes it difficult to tell where one ends and another begins.

After landing, we made our way to customs. I approached the customs agent, presented my passport, and was swiftly granted a Lebanese visa. However, when Ben's passport was examined, there was apparently something wrong. We're assuming the fact that he doesn't have a student visa (AUC screwed this up) was some sort of problem. The customs officer contacted his superior and soon we were being grilled in broken English by an rather unpleasant chap. The fact that we didn't have either a return ticket or a visa into another country was problematic, as the officer said he needed proof that we would be leaving Lebanon before our tourist visa had expired. We tried explaining to him that we were planning on obtaining a Syrian visa at the border and that we were college students on spring break and would have to return to Cairo shortly regardless, but he still was hesitant to budge. Finally, we told him what hotel we were staying at while in Beirut, he placed a call, and then begrudgingly told us to be on our way. It was an anticlimactic and unceremonious end to what had been a frustrating, high-tension ordeal.

After that misadventure, we hailed a cab and made our way into Beirut, with the Mediterranean to our left and mountains to our left. We arrived at our lodgings for the next four days, the Regis Hotel, left our bags in our room, and headed out into the city.

Our first stop was the Corniche Beirut, a beautiful seaside promenade tracing the Mediterranean coast. The Corniche was well-maintained and pristine and allowed us to get up close and personal with the Mediterranean. It was wonderful to fill my lungs with the crisp sea air after living in smoggy Cairo for the past two months.

We walked along the Corniche for a while before deciding to head over to the American University of Beirut, which came highly recommended from our Arabic teacher back home, and check it out. We were little only feet from the campus, but unfortunately could only gain access as visitors through the main gate, which was on the other side of the campus. After a lot of walking later, including an ascent of possibly the world's longest staircase, we made it to the main gate. However, the expanse of eateries along the avenue opposite AUB was enough to get our growling stomachs' attention, and after changing out some Egyptian pounds for Lebanese lira, we grabbed some lunch. We each devoured a delicious kofta wrap, which was prepared by spreading a meat paste on flat bread and then cooking it on a domed heated surface. After the main course, we grabbed some absolutely amazing ice cream. The food all cost us 7000 lira (about $4.60), which was our first indication that Beirut was bit pricier than Cairo, but still certainly affordable by American standards (and actually, the $20 taxi ride from the airport to our hotel was the first indication; compare that to the $8 fare from our dorm to the Cairo airport, which was a considerably longer trip).

After appeasing our bellies, we entered the main gate and exchanged our passports for a visitor's pass, leaving us free to explore AUB to our heart's content. It might seem strange to visit a college campus when in a foreign country, and, admittedly, I thought it was a little odd that our professor had been so adamant that we see AUB. But after walking around for only a few minutes, it became obvious why AUB had been pushed as a must-see-destination. It was absolutely gorgeous. The plethora of fauna and greenery,the beautiful Mediterranean-style stucco buildings, and the beautiful scenic views provided by the campuses hillside location made it seem like idyllic little paradise nestled in the middle of a bustling city. I was authentically impressed and openly remarked how I preferred AUB's campus to its new, but sterile looking counterpart in Cairo. I've posted my favorite images from the campus tour below, but be sure to follow this link to see all of my AUB pictures.

After our campus tour, we collected our passports, and started heading deeper into the city. We hadn't really planned any specifics for the day, so we were free to explore at our leisure. After walking for awhile in the streets of Beirut, here are some differences between it and Cairo that I picked up on:

• Beirut is far more European. From the architecture to its ambiance, the city definitely has a distinctive European feel to it.
• Beirut is significantly cleaner. Didn't spot any heaping piles of trash sitting in the middle of the street.
• The Lebanese armed forces are significantly better equipped. Their sleek camo uniforms and their imposing M16's make the Egyptian soldiers, with their drab black clothing and ancient AK-47's, look like amateurs.
• The chaos associated with Cairo is definitely less rampant here. Traffic was tame, and people just generally seemed more relaxed.
• Despite the fact that Lebanese currency is beyond inflated (1,500 Lebanese lira roughly equals one American dollar), things in Beirut are a bit more expensive than they are in Cairo.
• Scars from recent conflicts can still be spotted in throughout the city, including bullet holes in walls and the hole in a building left from an artillery shell. Even so, the city's reconstruction efforts have been impressive
• The Mediterranean weather is refreshingly cool compared to the desert heat of Cairo.
• Lebanese merchants are far less invasive and pushy than their Egyptian counterparts. Aside from taxi drivers, pestering is minimal.
• The Catholic/Christian presence in Beirut is very pronounced. Although non-Muslims only make up 40% of the country's population, I think it stands to reason that there is a significantly higher proportion of Christians in Beirut than elsewhere in the country. Churches were in equal numbers to mosques (if not more numerous), and many cars sported crucifixes hanging from their rear-view mirror or even Christian images or stickers on the windows.

The region we first explored, Hamra, is a fairly relaxed, up-scale area, with mock cobble-stone streets to boot, lined with hotels and chic boutiques and refined eateries. Again, may I emphasize, a very European vibe. From Hamra, we continued to make our way east towards the heart of the city. As we climbed a hill, Mount Lebanon loomed up before us, peppered by the lights of innumerable buildings along the mountainside. Unfortunately, the quickly darkening skies prevented us from getting any decent pictures, but it was still quite a spectacle, observing how the city refused to stop at the foot of the mountain and instead became a part of it.

We continued our exploration, and were not disappointed by the sites that unfolded before us. Among them was the Grand Serail, also know as the Government Palace, an elegant yet expansive structure of neo-Ottoman design that houses the Lebanese Prime Minister and related offices. A little while later, we found ourselves in the Souks du Beyrouth, an absolutely charming pedestrian-only shopping area lined with the most high-class, sophisticated shops imaginable. Although it definitely exuded a European charm to it, this elegant area actually reminded me a little of the pedestrian-friendly avenues in Madison, Wisconsin.

The next thing to catch our eye after emerging from the Souks du Beyrouth were the majestic white-spires of a blue domed mosque, which, judging by its immaculate luster, was clearly a recent construction (started in 2002, finished in 2008). The mosque's official name is Mohammad Al-Amin Mosque, but most people call it the Hariri Mosque, after the prime minister who not only commissioned its construction, but was also laid there to rest after his assassination in 2005. As we circumnavigated the mosque, it became clear to me this was as close as you could get to a "Disney mosque." The colors, the grandeur, everything.The mosque itself actually sits smack dab next to St. George's Maronite Cathedral. This apparently bizarre proximity was put into perspective by the always astute Benjamin Gavel: what better way to discourage sectarian violence than by putting two religious buildings of different sects right next to each other? That way, if you try to blow up some members of the opposite sect, you invariably end up harming those of your own, and vice-versa. Seemed to make sense to me.

After soaking in all of these sights, we decided it was time to get back to the Regis Hotel. But as is usually the case when attempting to navigate a city you've only spent about six hours in, it was a lot more difficult than we surmised. After about 45 minutes of walking, we actually did make it to an area we recognized, and thought we could easily make it to the hotel. But apparently we let our guard down too prematurely, and a few wrong turns later, we found ourselves lost and incredibly sore. Following a consultation with an AUB student and our guide book, we realized where we were. We were astounded that one (or two or three...) wrong turn(s) could've screwed us up that badly. Nonetheless, we put our heads down and plodded the remaining kilometers, grabbed some dinner, and went to bed.

Despite wandering astray for a brief spot, our first day in Beirut was a smashing success. We had seen a plethora of sites, gotten a good idea for the feel of the city, and became more acquainted with the lay-out of our surroundings (though, of course, by a trial and error procedure). With only four days in this beautiful country, we got the most out of Day 1.

Next stop: Beirut...

Well, I've done it...I've gone to the dark side and made a video blog. Click here or on the picture below to check it out. It's got all my Spring Break travel details as well as the lucky winner of this week's contest, so you won't want to miss it. It cuts out at the end (memory card ran out of space- 15+ takes will do that), but it was getting pretty crappy towards there anyway. Enjoy. The next time you hear from me, I'll be in Beirut, inshallah!

The (non)wearing of the green...

It should come as no surprise, but St. Patrick's Day is not really a big deal here in Egypt. Nonetheless, I was a little disappointed. I think maybe I got my hopes up because back in February Valentine's Day was a lot more celebrated here than I had expected it to be, but alas, the same can't be true of every saints' feast day that's been mainstreamed.

March 17th at AUC was the absolute inverse of what it is at Notre Dame, where we more or less make it a national holiday of sorts. There, wearing green is simply a bare minimum, and many people choose to take their dress for the day above and beyond with festive costumes and the like. I certainly wasn't expecting something along these lines here at AUC, but I was a little shocked that most of the American students chose not to acknowledge the day by wearing a little bit o' green. Maybe they forgot to pack some?

Though apparently St. Patrick's Day wasn't important enough for most people to even alter their clothing for one day, people were, of course, still planning to celebrate in the evening.Given the fact that I'd been up for about 48 hours straight at that point (advice: don't drink Turkish coffee at 10 pm, especially not the night before a mid-term), I was absolutely exhausted, and ended up crashing almost as soon as I got back to my room that evening. Weak sauce, I know.

So with St. Patrick's day come and gone, there really isn't much in between me and my epic Spring Break tour of the Middle East, set to begin on Tuesday (only 5 days!). I'm skipping out of two days of class in order to give me some more time for travel, so this weekend will primarily be about doing the work I'll miss, as well as a 7 page book report that's due immediately upon my return from break.

Another little note. I've applied for a grant from Notre Dame to stay out here and learn Arabic for the summer. I was supposed to hear back yesterday, but an interesting development has occurred. Apparently they are starting a new program at ND specifically for students interested in Arabic that combines language skills with service. There's a lot of money available for this program, meaning a lot more opportunities for applicants. As a result, they're bumped the selection of applicants back to March 24. I'll probably be on a beach in Beirut at the time, with limited (if any) access to the internet, but I'll be sure to let everyone know what goes down as soon as I find out.

PS: I definitely wore green and I even played "Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder?" on YouTube in front class. It was amusing.