Wanderlust Heaven!

Last couple days in Goa were spent revisiting some favorite old places.  Drove up to Morjim(ski) Beach, north of the Chapora River.  Parked the bike, went for a swim, had a beer, and then walked up to Mandrem Beach – a very long, unmatched wander that took me past nudist colonies, French cafes, stoner hangouts, and a whole lot of white beaches.  This walk – which extends all the way to Arambol – is one of the best ways to spend a day in Goa, or anywhere for that matter.  You could stretch it out for a couple days and spend the night in Arambol – a holiday within a holiday is one way to look at it.

On the ride back to Vagator I noticed a local kid wearing an AIG t-shirt.  I’m sure he had no idea what ‘AIG’ stands for these days…

Got back to Bean Me Up – Lisa marveled at my newly-acquired tan.  Now I was ready to head back to Egypt and fit right in with the locals.

Checked email – had a note from Garry, the American I’d met in a Yalta bar.  He was just laid off and was now back in Florida, working on his boat and looking for his next gig.  I have to admire his joie de vivre – didn’t seem that unhappy with his lot or lack of a bank balance.  I hope he lands on his feet, but suspect he’s pretty much already there.

Burned a few CDs for Lisa – she’s planning a retro night party at the restaurant and I happen to have a ton of 70s songs that would be perfect.  ‘Afternoon Delight’ by the Starland Vocal Band, anyone?

A friend of Lisa’s was showing a movie in his garden that night, he rigged up a Mac to a projector and sound system and it worked amazingly well.  We went to check it out – the movie was ‘Into the Wild,’ based on the Krakauer book.  I was familiar with the story, but hadn’t read the book or seen the movie.  Pretty compelling, and tragic.  I admired the protagonist’s independence and backbone…but at the same time there’s no way that a 22-year-old kid knows enough about life to justify having the confidence he had in himself.  I suppose I can’t prove that assertion…but in this story the kid dies in the Alaskan woods, and if you replayed the story 100 times I think it would end badly in 90 of them.  Anyway, the movie was quite good and I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on the book.

Saturday rolled around – went over to Lisa and Richard’s to have a beer and say goodbye.  This is becoming an annual event – I hate saying goodbye and making a production out of it, but I think I’ll keep returning to Goa each winter, even if only for a week or two.  And if this job comes through in Mumbai, I might be down there a hell of a lot.  So this time wasn’t that sad – it had been a terrific week and I had some good memories to tide me through the long bus rides I had coming up in Egypt and Israel.

Flew up to Mumbai, had a lengthy layover which wasn’t looking to be much fun, not at the detestable Sahar Airport.  But, to my general astonishment, the eternal work they’ve been doing on the airport has come a ways – there are now some decent places to eat, a ‘Bombay Blue Bar’ with cold beer, and a look and feel that approximates ‘normal’ airports around the world.  They still have much to do, but now spending a few hours at Sahar isn’t the exercise it once was.

Connected to my Cairo flight at 2:30 a.m.  Flights seem to get into and depart from Indian airports at the ugliest hours.  Egypt has the same issue.  As the plane took off, an Exit sign on the ceiling fell to the floor.  A metaphor for the flight??  I hoped not.

Had a tough time sleeping, the econo seats were child-sized and I wasn’t that tired.  Probably got an hour of sleep during the 5-6 hour flight, was a bit woozy when we landed.

Landing in these countries when it’s dark isn’t optimal – the thieving cabbies are right on you, you’re tired from the journey, and it’s not that easy to shop around for a good deal.  But I’d done this once before here at Cairo Airport, so had a solid price to quote…which I eventually got.  Rode into town, checked into Hotel Luna – but as it was only 6:30 a.m., had to wait a few hours to get into my room.  Watched a couple episodes of ‘Heroes’ on the old laptop to while away the time.  Never hard to spend a few hours – always something to do/read/watch.

Had a coffee at A l’Americaine Coffee Shop, a classic place that’s probably 70 years old, at least.  Did some computer stuff, then collapsed in bed for a huge huge nap – didn’t get up till the sun had gone down.  Thankfully I hadn’t planned a big day around town – perhaps I’m becoming more realistic / aware of my limitations.  It’s hard to strike the right balance between seeing/doing everything and being kind to your body and mind…

Had beers and dinner at Estoril.  Ordered some kibbeh, which are meat-filled bulgur wheat balls – one of the best things to eat over here.  The Sadat-lookalike barman was glad to see me – I love these characters, there are at least a few in every capital city.  Cairo has more than its fair share – the place is incredibly retro, there seems to be very little innovation here.  Proof:  numerous billboards and ads for Chevrolet cars.

Am reading ‘The Yacoubian Building’ by Alaa Al Aswany, an Egyptian dentist who wrote this book a few years ago.  It quickly became a top-seller and he’s now a famous novelist, at least in the Arab world.  The book’s about a well-known building on a main Downtown street, namely the characters who live and work there.  It’s sort of an Egyptian soap opera, the writing is good not stunning, but the stories are intriguing and it all hangs together nicely.  Almost finished with it – it’s giving me some good insights into Egyptian life under the surface.

Got a Facebook friend request from a high school classmate whom I haven’t seen or even thought of since the moment we graduated in 1985.  I guess this is why I deal with all the email traffic arising from Facebook – you can recapture the most obscure memories without doing anything.  That said, I noticed that one of my ‘friends’ has 931 ‘friends.’  And I thought I had trouble staying in touch with people – I have to reject the very idea of 931 ‘friends.’

After Estoril, went to Zemalek, a neighborhood on an island in the Nile.  Had a beer at Deals Pub and then walked around a bit.  Zemalek is an upscale ‘hood and I had wanted to get a feel for the place.  Despite spending the equivalent of 5-6 days in Cairo, and seeing a fair amount, I’d also been consumed with errands (read:  Indian visa) and felt that I hadn’t seen enough of the city.  Oh well.

Walked back to Downtown, and finished the night at the Odeon Palace Hotel, which has a popular rooftop bar.  The hotel itself is old and creaky, as is the bar.  Just a few folks hanging out, smoking and drinking.  Had a Stella beer and called it a night.  Last night in Cairo – fairly entertaining, if a bit quiet.

Next morning, before checking out, had breakfast at the hotel.  Sat across from an American woman, Liz, who turned out to be an Egyptologist.  She was going to see Zahi, the head of the Antiquities Board – this fellow is one of the big names in Egypt and does not lack an ego – he has a monthly piece in Egypt Air’s magazine which outlines his exploits and claims.  Turns out Liz studied for a while at Tufts – small world.

Checked the NFL scores – the Pats won big.  They’re doing pretty well despite their injuries – I don’t expect them to go that far in the playoffs, but if they do I won’t be too surprised.  The team is solid and they could always get lucky.

Meanwhile, the Celtics are absolutely kicking tail – they’ve won 16 in a row and are off to their best start EVER.  That’s really saying something, given the spectacular teams they’ve fielded over the years.  It’s tough to play so well after you win a ring, but they’re doing it.  But it’s still early in the season and we’ll have to see what happens down the stretch.

Took a bus to Sinai – wanted to visit St. Katherine’s Monastery and climb Mt. Sinai.  The bus left Cairo Gateway Station around 11 a.m., and promptly broke down a few kilometers outside the city.  Ugh.  Had wanted to get to St. K’s before sunset, but that wasn’t to be.  We sat there and waited for a backup bus to come, that took a couple hours.  Plus I was sitting next to a fat local guy and he was oozing into my seat.  Charming.

Eventually a crappy backup bus came and we boarded it.  Then it was another 7-8 hours to go.  Across the aisle from me was a volube Dutch guy named Nico – he had lived in Yemen for 4 years and now lived in Mozambique, his wife’s a doctor with the Dutch Embassy and they spend time in some obscure places.  Cool.  We got on well and decided to climb Mt. Sinai the next morning at 3 a.m.

I had a booking at the Monastery Guesthouse – the one place that’s within the confines of St. K’s and within easy reach of the mountain.  Nico seemed keen to try to get a room there too.  I’d made a booking two weeks before, worried that the onset of the holidays would make walk-ins difficult.

Nico had learned that an older British fellow sitting a few rows up had been to the Monastery before and I picked his brain about the place and about climbing the mountain.  He proved to be a font of knowledge – more on him in a bit.

Sitting behind Nico was an odd redheaded Austrian woman who became more annoying by the hour.  She was an accomplished traveler (and had been to Yemen), and her thing was that she never booked a room in advance.  Whatever, lady.  Within an hour or two she had latched onto Nico and I, and the Brit, who told us that the Guesthouse always sent a cab to meet our bus and fetch its guests.  So by the time we finally got to the village near St. K’s, we had more than a full house – the redhead had also roped in an Indian guy and his mother to come with us.

I was by now cranky – the ride was late, I had had to sit next to the fat guy the entire time, I was sick of the redhead (who couldn’t stop gabbing, in weird Austrian German to boot), we had gone through 5 or 6 checkpoints (there have been terror attacks out here and the police are on edge), and I wanted to climb Mt. Sinai at 3 a.m.  It was already past 8 p.m.

The cabbie was waiting for us.  We piled in – I felt bad for the Brit, who had generously told us about this service and was now forced to squeeze in the third row of seats in the station wagon.  We had to endure a final checkpoint before entering the Monastery Grounds.  Checkin was messy – but they finally got me, the Brit, and Nico into rooms.  The redhead and the Indians weren’t happy with the price – they took the cab back to the village to stay in cheaper digs.  Eminently predictable – they wound up making the rest of us miserable.  Nico and I joked about the ride and the annoyances, and had dinner in my room – the staff brought us a very nice spread and I bought a couple beers in the store, which was open round-the-clock for the pilgrims and the climbers.

St. Katherine’s is probably the oldest Christian monastery in the world.  There has been a religious site here since the 3^rd century A.D., and a formal monastery since the 6^th, when Emperor Justinian built this monastery.  It’s a well-trafficked pilgrimage site, and many tourists come to climb Mt. Sinai, behind the monastery.  There’s your quickie history lesson.

Finished dinner, traded a few more stories with Nico, mostly about how crazy the redhead was (I was happy he had the same impression) then we went to sleep.  It was 10:30 p.m. and it had been a relentlessly long day, longer than expected.  But now it was passing into legend and as you can probably tell, I got a few stories from the ordeal.

Alarm woke me at 2:30 a.m.  Got my warm clothes on, put on my headlamp, got my flashlight, and went to Nico’s room to get him.  He was already up and getting ready.  Shouldered our packs and went to the back side of the monastery to start the hike.

We followed what looked to be the proper path – didn’t see any signs, but the route corresponded with what we’d been told the night before by staff.  Walked for about 40 minutes and eventually came to a door in the side of the mountainside – dead end.  We’d erroneously followed a path to one of the small monasteries in the hills around St. K’s – not the path to Mt. Sinai.  Yikes.  And our goal was to make sunrise at the top of Mt. Sinai – which was due around 5:30 or so.  It was now about 4 a.m.  The hike was supposed to take 2.5 hours – we’d clearly fucked up and would be hard-pressed to come through on time.

We recovered our composure and found a weak path that took us back to the valley floor.  We saw some lights in the distance and went towards those – presumably they were the flashlights of people who actually knew where they were going.  We eventually met them, they were Russians with a guide, coming down from a night atop the mountain.  We were indeed on the proper path, now all that remained was getting to the top on time.

I’m not in the best shape, but I set a hard pace and Nico kept up.  We soon started passing other climbers, mostly Japanese decked out in the latest climbing/cold weather gear.  Exchanged some Japanese greetings and motored on.  We were on a mission from God, as it were.  And soon it became clear that the peak wasn’t far off – there were Bedouins renting out mattresses and blankets.  Many people spend the night atop the mountain, and it’s very cold up there.

Got to the top – checked my watch and it was only 5:10, we had made the climb in 70 minutes.  The Brit had told me the record for the climb was 39 minutes, by a Russian guy.  We weren’t close to that, but had done pretty damn well.  And we were there before sunrise.

Lots of people up there – pilgrims playing the guitar, religious freaks praying to the rising sun, Japanese people milling around without much clue about the religious significance of Mt. Sinai.  As for me, I couldn’t stop thinking about the movie ‘History of the World Part 1,’ with Mel Gibson, specifically the scene with Moses dropping the tablet with commandments #11-15.  I just can’t take these things too seriously…

Sun soon came up – superb views of nearby peaks, random people at the summit, and the valley below:

It was very cold and we only stayed up there for an hour or so.  I felt a vague sense of history and mystery, and wondered if Moses had really ‘done his thing’ up here.  As with Mt. Nebo in Jordan.

Climbed back down to the monastery.  Ran into David the Brit at breakfast – he was amazed at our tale, about getting lost and then recovering to climb the mountain in 70 minutes.  I do have a history of fast climbs – in the Himalayas in 2006 my guides had marveled at my ascent of the Indrahar Pass.  I just might need to try to break the Mt. Sinai record one day…

David turned out to be even more interesting than I had expected.  He’s a scholar who’s trying to pinpoint the route of the historical Exodus of the Jews from Egypt.  He was getting into things like the water consumption of the Jews as they fled Egypt, about the path through the Red Sea, etc.  This place was obviously of huge significance for his studies, the Jews supposedly camped for a long while on the Plains of Raha, just outside the monastery and obviously quite near Mt. Sinai, where Moses supposedly received the 10 Commandments.  Nico and I listened to David for a while – also seated at our table were two American women, one a history prof, who from time to time interjected comments that struck me as very academic and not that helpful to the discussion.  At one point one of the women made the point that Egypt was part of the Byzantine Empire – which was correct, but which had nothing much to do with what we were talking about.  British people are really far more skilled in conversation and rhetoric than we Americans are.  At least some of us Americans know when to keep our mouths shut and be thought of as semi-intelligent…

David offered to show us round the monastery and we were happy to follow him.  I was checking out that afternoon and heading to Dahab, on the Sinai.  I had considered staying for longer, but really wanted to get to the shore and do some diving.  And it was pretty cold here in the interior of the Sinai – it was a case of the age-old question of leaving too early or staying too long.  Not much to do here besides chill (in the cold), climb the mountain or tour the grounds.  David took us around and showed us the highlights, which included, seriously, a huge bush that is supposedly the ‘burning bush’, or descendant of the famous bush, from which God spoke to Moses.  Wild stuff…

Nearby was a well at which Moses supposedly met Jethro, whose daughter he later married:

You’ve probably noticed that we’re dealing with lots of ‘supposedlys’ here.  That’s not a mistake.

Also checked out the Church of the Transfiguration, an ornate, beautiful place.  Then walked around the outer walls of the monastery and looked at the many different types of crosses carved on the walls.  The entire tour was a grand history lesson by David and Nico and I were grateful we’d met such a knowledgeable dude – we got well beyond the info provided by Lonely Planet, and I wish I’d meet more people like him.  I hope his research succeeds and he uncovers some exciting new info to share with all of us.

Took a cab to Dahab – pricey but the bus sked was suspended so had no option.  Took an hour or so, great ride through the Sinai Desert.

While riding to Dahab, thought about next year, and wondered what it would bring.  I’ll keep traveling through the early part of the year, but what about after that?  Would I be back at work, putting on a suit and tie?  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worn a tie, or even if I had any in storage.  Oh well, will cross that bridge when I come to it…

One more month till Bush is gone.  I’m not one to root for time to pass, generally, but I won’t be sad on January 20^th 2008.

It got much warmer as we came upon the coast and descended.  My pores opened up and reached for the sun’s rays…I sat back and let my head sink onto the headrest.  It had already been a long, weird day – arising at 2:30 a.m., getting lost, recovering and cranking up Mt. Sinai, getting a brilliant tour of the world’s oldest Christian monastery from an insider.  Now it was onto the beach, to Dahab, the capital of backpacker travel in the Sinai and one of the world’s renowned dive centers.

Checked into Penguin Village, a place with a good rep.  Room was fine, and they had a dive shop onsite.  Lined up some dives, then went for a long walk along the beach promenade  – Dahab was larger than I expected and I was tired when I got back to the hotel.  What a classic chillout beach town – reminded me of some places in Thailand and the Philippines.

Took a nap…got a haircut…then went to the ‘Funny Mummy’ resto for dinner.  Had a solid Caesar Salad and a fish dish, they do nice fish here.  Was sitting near a gang of Norwegians, they invited me over and I accepted.  Very fun people – a mother, her son, and his girlfriend.  They were here for a week or so and had done some diving.  Drinks flowed – in Norway alcohol is taxed brutally and I’ve noticed that Scandinavians abroad are enthusiastic drinkers.  Drank till midnight or so, then I cut and run as had to get up early for diving the next morning.

Did two dives the next day.  Was joined by two Brits, George and Grace, who were going for their Advanced Open Water licenses.  Hamdi was our guide, a capable dude.  Drove up to the Canyons, a well-known site.  The dive was pretty good, saw a fair amount of life…but partway through I noticed that I couldn’t switch off my camera for some reason.  Then I noticed that the case had fogged up – I was able to see a few drops of water inside the case.  Shit.  A leak, it seemed – wasn’t sure what had happened.  And not much I could do.  I kept trying to turn off the camera, to prevent a short.  But I couldn’t, so just tried to hold the case upright and prevent water from getting onto the lens.

Got to shore – left everything to dry in the sun for an hour while we had lunch.  Tried the camera after that, and it worked fine.  This seems to be the proper strategy for wet electronics.  Wiped everything off and checked the case – couldn’t really tell what had gone wrong, but suspected the o-ring was fouled and I had a backup that I’d try the next day, without a camera in the case just in case.

Still got some good pics from the dive, in any event…

And the shore was picturesque, classic Sinai scenery:

The café owner who served us lunch offered us hashish and opium.  I think he was kidding.

Second dive was to the infamous Blue Hole.  The deal with this dive is that you dive straight down a ‘chimney,’ go sideways for a meter or two, then down another chimney.  Then you proceed along a reef wall for a while, and end the dive above the Blue Hole, which is a literal hole that opens at 65 meters and apparently goes down to 100 meters, at which point it comes out somewhere else.  That’s all I know – you obviously don’t go down anywhere near that far, only hardcore techie divers with trimix gas do that.  But it was still pretty cool to hover above the hole, even at 20-30 meters.

As we had walked over to the entry site for this dive, we passed a wall with a number of tombstone dedications to divers who died here.  Lots of divers have been seduced by the Blue Hole and have tried to enter it – and many never got out alive.  Going down that deep requires the right equipment, skills and prep – not for rookies and not even for vets like me.

Saw an incredible blue octopus wedged in a rock along the reef wall.  Wild.

Meant to go to a yoga class that night, walked all the way up to Blue Beach Club, recommended by friend Ken, who’d stayed there years ago.  But I forgot to bring my yoga mat with me – nitrogen narcosis can apparently occur  above water as well.  Blew off the class and took a long nap, which was probably the better idea anyway.

Slept for longer than expected – got up around 11 p.m. quite hungry.  Sat down at the hotel’s beachfront resto and ordered some soup and a burger.  Soon enough George and Grace, my dive buddies, came by – they’d had beers at Tota Bar and sat down with me while I ate.  Had a good chat with them – they’re actually staying in the room next door and will be here for a few more days.  Between them and the Norwegians, who I keep running into, my social life here seems assured.

Today I did a terrific dive at Eel Garden.  You swim over a sandy bed where hundreds of little moray eels stick up and sway in the current.  When you get near they disappear.  Surreal.  Underneath a coral I saw a moray the size of my femur – the head was the size of a brick and the thing looked hungry.

I tested my camera case with a new o-ring, sans camera, and it seemed to again be leak-proof.  Will take the camera underwater on my next dive and see what happens.

George and Grace are doing their final dive for their certificate as I sit and write this – they’re doing a night dive at The Lighthouse.  Had thought about joining them, but opted out.  I’ve got lots of diving left to do over the next 4-5 days and should spread it out a bit.  But it is time for a Stella Beer, so I’ll end this and wish you all the happiest of holidays.  My next post will be from somewhere in Israel.  Over and out.

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