From Sinai To Cairo To Brisbane

Egypt was much more interesting that I was expecting.

So I spent a week staying in my $10 AU a night hotel room in Dahab... in a strange way it was the cosiest hotel room I had stayed in on this trip, with a good fan, cosy bed and smooth cotton sheets... lots of character, embedded in this little tourist resort run by "Jimmy", who was like an Egyptian "Ali G", whose high fives left me with sore palms!

Dahab and the surrounding area is very well set up for backpackers and the like, with all the restaurants and accomodation is right on the water. The best snorkeling I experienced in the area was straight out from some of the main restaurants.

And the vibe is authentically relaxed there, even though it is on the verge of being too busy for its sake!


The quality of the sun is interesting there - there is this golden quality to it. You can see in my photos, the quality of the light is very clear.

I did go out to coloured canyon with a tour group (and I vowed to avoid doing tours ever again!), which was good to get out there a bit into the desert and visited Sharm el-Sheikh... a much bigger and more impersonal resort which was strangely fascinating... but I didn't climb Mt Sinai in the end! (maybe one day, but I am not in a hurry)

After Dahab, I spent two days in Cairo and I was really bracing myself for this place, with 10 million people and the worst air pollution in the world... but I really enjoyed my brief stay there.

I stayed at the Windsor Hotel, which is an old British officers club, turned into a hotel which was kind of quaint.

I spent an afternoon at the Egyptian Museum which was worthwhile. I got the clear impression the Egyptians were much more advanced as a civilisation than we give them credit for.

So this present culture had three thousand years of that culture behind it and that is something you can really see. People have this backbone of pride and understanding of who they are, which I found to be similar in Peru, who have the Inca's as their ancestors.

People here are often so poor and just barely scratching out a living... a lot of things you see around look like they are from 1971. But the people maintain an inner vibrancy and humour and are often quite happy.

Cairo is a very vital place... and I felt strangely quite at home there, like it was an old friend. It is strange, because I thought I would hate it with all the dirtyness, noise and overcrowding... but I didn't and thought that it was a very unique and alive and strangely civil.


People had told me over the years that I had past lives in Egypt in the upper echelons of that culture and I didn't really think much of it... but the way I seemed to click in with people and what is going on here, that made sense to me.

I visited the Pyramids at Giza of course, and like a lot of these things... only when you go and see them do you really understand them. Funny, I was there walking around the pyramids mostly alone. You just get this impression that they are actually so solid inside with these bricks too and the images we see only really convey the surface.

But I don't feel any particular "energy" at Giza (and I'd consider myeslf pretty sensitive to such things)... what I did feel is that the pyramids influenced all of Egypt, in a way it affects all the the land in a wide radius energetically, and also in an archetypal way and also it did give the people a sense of pride, that they largely came from a people's persistent enough to build these things!



I think if I went back to Egypt, I would spend time on the Nile... and get off the obvious beaten track there more. I felt it was largely a very "sane" place.

The cars in Cairo are something else... and not really possible to explain what the traffic is like until you have experienced it.

Watching the couples walk on the street in my taxi back from the pyramids was something else... the women would wear different coloured head covering and the mean usually jeans. And most of the time, they would not be all that attractive, but the way they were animated to each other and looking in each others eyes, was not sentimental, just very animated and with so much character of what man and woman is... so much humour and understanding.

All the time in Egypt I had these experiences in people who communicated an honest and true sense of "namaste", (I honour the divine within you), just walking in the street, men (mostly men) would just look at me with this still and bright recognition, with such an edge of humour to it.

Compare this to any western country and you just have these stone wall people who are afraid, who seem unable to reach this inner place in which they are able to "expend" the energy to recognise someone - a "stranger" even.

So all the Egyptians I felt quite sociable towards, which is rare for me and I would go out of my way to talk with them and make jokes and so on. They are often very quick and witty, but in a very innocent and playful, and quite sophisticated way. Not this duelistic and rather shallow "brit wit" which seems to pervade the speakers of the english language.

As a country, Egypt is very poor and economically, there doesn't seem to be much hope for them as a whole, as there is almost 80 million people there, with 20% of their GDP coming from tourism. And as a country to go to as a tourist, I think it has more to offer than most other countries and so I would highly recommend to anyone as a destination of exploration.

After flying out of Cairo, I had a quick overnight stopover in Barcelona, before taking my flight to Australia. It was so obvious how the people in Barcelona were so much more divorced from each other, so much more focussed on bourgeois persuits of the superficial. The inner sensation of the city, as I walked through it to my friends apartment in the old city - was this stoney narrowness, where flow was not permitted, nor so much celebrated in big and small ways! And Barcelona is one of the more lively European cities I know of.

Coming back to Australia, this organic perception of the narrowness and shallowness of western life was amplified. I felt in my time in the middle east, I had come to an understanding of certain types of human balance and integration.

I felt my interactions with people in Australia to be somewhat cardboard cut-out... and I felt myself without the same traction and co-ordination I found in the middle east.

Australia is a much sicker culture than it thinks it is... a penetrating and also flimsy arrogance pervades and masks a deep insecurity and also primordial fear few seem interested in addressing.

I found myself becoming narrowed in these routines of excuse... disabled... whereas, in the middle east... I think, there is more of a culture of saying what you mean and meaning what you say. Coming back, I suddenly feel muted and even not as supported in what I have to say.

Maybe I just miss being a movie star....(!)

Last night, I have dreams of Syria... the spirit of that country still communicating to me.

I feel like saying "I Believe in Australia" like Bashar says he believes in Syria...

At least, in this country we are well established in the material paradigm, and actually have a chance to address ourselves in a whole way, unbound by tradition, in an often very livable climate.

But complacency and a lack of real effort really shits me... in other countries, where life is typically more difficult in different ways - you really have to try harder. We are lucky in that we really don't have to try in the same way. At times, it seems as if everything is given to us on a plate and what are we really doing with that?

I.e. all the elements are there to make a truly better life and instead we continue to follow the painfully anal bottom line and follow the global herd, and fail to strike out and create the truly new and fresh culture we could.

All this, while surburbia becomes more and more terrible and the inner city becomes ever more conceited and self satisfied in this false material glee - and the true landscape is abandoned and left to bland monoculture.

In Australia, there often seems to be quite of lack any higher sincerity and focus, everything is muffled and meated through the rumbles of the pack... the guffaws of the gossiping pack and their rickety admonitions, and baselined reductions - the easy and cowardly way of facing life.

But at least it is a sane place, in many ways, places like Egypt are not sane, tied down to grinding traditions and poverty.

I see Australia as being the only hope for the world. They used to call America the world's "only and last hope" but this gormless behemoth seems incapable of any real change at the moment, gripped by its own senselessness, ignorance and again - insecurity and arrogance.

If we are to move forward globally, I feel it is importance to come naked, in deep humility, while the orientation that many want is separation from the masses, they want to be above the others, in a specialness you can pay for, when they are a billionaire, then not having to take responsibility for life and simply exploit their environment for their own ends and fears and insecurities.

And this is the obvious error of capitalism, that the apothoasis of life comes from things you can buy when you are the successful billionaire. This is the carrot on the stick driving so many people, and it is so clearly an empty illusion. And yet, sadly, without that carrot, many are unmotivated and not able to motivate themselves in any way beyond this flimsy story of self aggrandisement.

I read a little story in an English magazine in Syria which stayed with me, even though I had heard the story in other variations and so a little bit trite!

The rich local businessman on the dock sees a local fisherman, lying in his medium sized boat in the sun with his arms behind his head, relaxing and catching some sun on a beautiful day. The businessman stirs the fisherman and says "why aren't you out there catching fish?"
The fisherman says that he has already been fishing today.
The businessman said, "You know, if you had a bigger boat, you would be able to catch more fish, and then perhaps even buy a fleet of boats and make enough money to really enjoy life!"
"What do you think I am doing now?" said the fisherman.

JordanKnee

here is the link to the entire set of Photos of Jordan on Flickr!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/25797682@N03/sets/72157604977159596/

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I spent a few days in Amman not doing that much... getting to grip with Jordan and recovering from Lebanon... shuffling from hotel to another, as the town is pretty much fully booked up.

I felt Amman was a bit of a flat place... it reminded me of Spain a bit, but also America. One time a taxi driver took me into a huge shopping mall instead of downtown like I asked him. The supermarket was just this excesssive and garish place with no individual character whatsoever. (and usually they do?)

One night time I went into eat at the Royal Society for Conservartion of Nature cafe... near downtown, and ironically enough, the Australian embassy was holding a cocktail party in the gallery there!

It wasn't hard to get in, and look at the photos of the diggers building bridges and other things in Jordan in the 1st world war, grab some wine and finger food!



A lot of the people there were retired army officer turned ambassadorial types and their wives.

Then I went to a turkish bath. It was very metrosexual. A lot of the men there get mud sea facials and full body mud covers.

When I enter the steam room, you can see through the little glass holes in the ceiling... two of the very jovial men start singing and clapping in this way I have noticed a lot of people here do, especially school children. It is something I would like to record one day, because I have never heard anything quite like it.

One of the men, when they finish, exclaims, "Psychedelic!!!"

Then we are served this icey fruit drink, kakerde, which is actually a hibiscus infusion... very good!

Then I am put in jacuzzi, talking with the guys there and thoroughly scrubbed by a big man, all the dead skin taken off and then given a 30 minute massage, and opted for the dead sea mud on my face.

The whole experience was pretty good actually, but I was told I missed the best Turkish Bath, which is the old town of Damascus.

One day walking in the old town, I met a pale skinned man in his 50's who showed me where to go... I got talking to him and he said he had a shop. Usually, at this point, I would be trying to get away, but I said to him I would like to see his shop. He says he is a glass blower. Turns out he is Armenian, and makes intricate handmade and painted glass objects and glasses.


His work is a favourite of the ambassodors and once Laura Bush (Dubya's wife) bought a few pieces from him as well as the royalty here. But he said the locals don't understand his work, and only want new things.... not handmade, distinctive pieces. He is a sweet guy and I spend a couple of hours talking to him and having tea, buying a few pieces from him.

I go to some old ruins above the city, and what strikes me are the flowers here... they are very unique and distinctive here and I spend some time with them, listening to them, thinking I will come back another time to make some essences.


I once go to this groovy hangout/restaurant at night and all the rich young people are there... not a head covering in sight. Very western and modern thing that they have hooked into here. So it seems, if you are rich, you can disregard this religiousity for the most part!

Hiring a car in Amman, is not easy, as most of the over 100 hire car companies don't have any cars! This is peak season... eventually I manage to hire a car from Hertz and off I go, up north.

Driving in Amman is quite easy really... but even here, some of the hire car companies will actually drive you out of town so you can avoid the traffic.

Outside of Amman is very built up, the north of the country is quite lush and green and most of the rest of it is desert, so this is where most of the people live.

I go to Jerash to the old Roman Ruins, and again, and the flowers which impress me more. I think at this point, i have been "ruined out" and don't spend much time there.


Then I drive around the hills around Anjoun and find an old pilgramidge site. Before that, I found a spot in the country which effected me quite a lot. I felt that this was a holy place.

Then I go to Anjoun nature reserve, a bit late, so they won't let me go on a walk... but I walk around and look at the flowers more. They are really quite impressive here... I have not seen anything like them before. Turns out the place is King Hussein's old pomegranate orchard...and it is not that big!

Then I drive down the hills, going through a checkpoint, and along the Israeli border and then south to Madaba, where I stay that night.

The next day I go to the Movenpick resort to swim in the dead sea and get wrapped in mud.

The movenpick resort is quite swish, but no real cliched rich people here... but lots of stressed American men talking on their cell phones, mostly just obviously very unhappy people.

Swimming in the dead sea is a bit of a trip... it is very salty because of evaportion over many years, and you can literally stand upright in the water!

I have booked in for a mud wrap as I have heard how therapeutic the dead sea mud is and have never done this before. And I am assuming there is something to having people who know what they are doing, and so I decide to pay not an insignificant amound of money to do this!

So I am put on this massage table like surface on plastic and then covered in mud, which they add local herbs to. Then I am wrapped up in plastic! So then my dude leaves the rooms and leave me there, and I momentarily feel like my dead sister "Laura Palmer"(!)

And actually, very quickly, I sink into the deepest relaxation and state I have experienced for many, many years... and I am into all kinds of things that promote different states of consciousness. I am close to sleep, but don't sleep and my guy (which is dressed like a nurse in white!) comes in the room and unwraps me.

Then I spend the rest of the day using the spa's, swimming the dead sea, getting some sun and using the gym there.

I put some dead sea mud on myself near the sea and let it dry for half an hour, but it doesn't feel nearly quite the same! But clearly quite good for the skin.

The next day I go to the baptism site of Jesus, right near the Israeli border. In fact, it is so close, that there is one point on the site where the only thing that separates Jordan and Israeli is the very narrow River Jordan. And so you are literally 5 metres from Israel! And on the Jordanian side is one guy with a big automatic weapon, and on the Israeli side, a whole military compound flying an Israeli flag.

The actual baptism site looks like somewhere that used to be very official and set up, with romanesque mosaics and what is clearly some sort of step into the water... this is not the image that we genearelly have of Jesus's baptism... more something along the lines of John pouring water of jesus's head in the middle of the river in the wilderness! I didn't really find out that much about it all as the tour was given in Spanish!


I find a tree near the VIP area of the center (not that there are any VIP's around apart from me!) there and make a flower essence from it. I take some of the mother tincture then and it effects me right away.

That night I drive up Mt Nebo, where Moses first saw the holy land and drive south, into Wadi Mujib, a huge canyon which reminds me of the grand canyon. I wasn't expecting it to be like this actually... I arrive quite late and find a hotel near Karak.

The owner tells me of a place where I can have dinner which he recommends. Falafel here is so good... and so cheap, less than $1 AU for a falafel roll.

No falafel I have had elsewhere really compares. Also, hummous here is a bit of a religion. When you order hummous, it is spread out over a plate and you eat it with bread. Unfortunatley, the hummous again, is very, very different to what is called hummous in Australia. (or anywhere else)

The owner of the restaurant is very kind and makes the falafel rolls for me himself, (when usually he has his lackeys doing it!) and he gives me some sesame and coconut bars for free when I leave.

People are generally like that here, very giving and sharing to outsiders. Once I had a haircut, one of the most thorough I have ever had, and the guy said he didn't want any money for it. This is also common, I haven't totally figured it out, whether it is some kind of demonstration to the outsider that they are beyond money in their service to you. Or maybe, they feel this is a virtuos and they are gaining some kind of karma points... but in every case, they don't want to make a big deal about it. Usually, I insist that I pay and they accept!

Here, people who are providing a good or service to you, generally want to do right by you... at least this is what I have found, they don't want to rip you off or take all they can, but only what is fair. This is with reasonable people of course, there are always people trying to take advantage of tourists in different ways.

The next day I go driving off the beaten track a bit... the first time I have had really had the oppurtunity to do so, as in Jordan, unbeaten tracks are not that easy to find.

I really find driving around freely, with everything I am traveling with, very freeing... knowing that I can go anywhere I want and just follow my nose as I wish. It is in fact, one of my favourite things.

Around Midday, I end up going past some villages down a dirt road and end up driving along a precarious one lane road, with a tractor with three bedouins heading towards me. It is one of those roads, in which there is a quite a sharp distance to the bottom.

The guys on the tractor cannot believe it when I pass them... and wonder why I am coming down here. I keep driving and this spike of fear hits me... the road is very precarious and I don't really know where I am going, but I push past it and keep going.

Soon, I realise I am going down into Wadi Mujib! But from the other side I approached it the night before. There are bedouin families with goats along the side of the road and eventually I reach the bottom, where there is a very narrow river and pink flowers growing on a bush. The locals are very interested in me and I feel my presence here is quite precarious too. They watch me above a cliff and I just wave at them.

I then drive off, hoping to go all the way back to the highway, via the dirt road that goes along the river.

Soon, I stop near a beduoin tent on the fork on the road and they come over to me, a man and his son, a bit surprised to see me.

They don't speak any english and indicate that I am welcome to tea! So I park my car and walk past their yard, containing baby goats and go inside their tent. They ask me if I would like to eat and I say yes, as I have been getting quite hungry and didn't bring any lunch with me.

Soon they bring me tea, and three big bowls, one containing goats milk, yoghurt and cheese, and also some home made bread.

The milk makes me almost throw up actually... and I have to really fight not to do so as I surrepticiously gag! They don't seem to really notice however. The cheese is very good... very salty though, and I dip the bread in the cheese. It is very rich and strong. The yoghurt is extremely good however, and I drink three cups of this.

As before, the woman is in a different part of the tent and I barely saw her... and cushions are generously provided for me.

There are little goats running around the tent... what seem to me to be sick babies, as there are some needles around... I ask him to pass the medicine to me and it is "ivomectin". I tell him I have taken Ivomectin before when I was sick, in some bizarre form of sign language and we all laugh.

Soon, I have enough lunch, even though he is quite insistant I eat more. Then I have some more tea and then take some photos of the man, as well as the goats and tent.



Soon, I leave, giving the man a headlamp I don't need... (as I have two and actually travel with four torches!) I figure the beduion are SO generous and often almost that is being taken advantage that it is important to give back in kind.

These people are not totally poor, he has an old truck! But I don't even know you could buy a headlamp like this in Jordan, and they are very grateful and I leave.

He told me before (in sign language of course) that I couldn't keep going on the road as it was too hectic, and he was right... so I turn around and go back along the road and out back to Karak.

This time I stay at this hotel right near the castle there.. .which is a crusader castle.

A visit seems compulsory seeing as it is right there... and so early the next day I check it out... these castles are so huge... really the crusades were a much bigger deal than I previously knew, lasting hundreds of years. And these castles are very impressive, but really none too exciting.

The next day I plan to go to Dana Nature Reserve, which is apparently the showpiece of the jordanian RSCN. I stop in Talifa to buy some snacks and cigarettes to give to any beduoin I may encounter again.

A small group of boys about 18 or so stop and ask me where I am from, one of them wants to have his photo taken with me. They are very bright and intelligent young guys who are in the last year of their high school. And like most boys their age, they are obsesssed with girls.

They tell me I should go and see the girls coming out of the university down the road, which is one of the best, if not the best university in Jordan. I say, I have already seen them! I ended up there, because my car got a flat tyre and I just turned into somewhere safe I could change the tyre.

Most of the girls there were wearing headscarfs and most were very, very good looking... at first I couldn't understand why this was so as I hadn't seen such creatures here before, until after I changed the tyres and had to drive past the university entrance in order to turn around.

They would not look at you, and would feel you looking from the car and almost, and sometimes literally turn away and scowl a bit.

Only later did I realise how full on it is for these young women... any sign of eye contact is perceived as flirting. And as my young friends told me, they could not just approach a girl if they liked her. As far as I could ascertain, you have to arrange a meeting with their parents with a view to marriage!

The boys told me that if you approached her, or that you talked to her or anything, you could well be beaten up by her brother!

I suggested that the brothers would have to make a truce, if they wanted to have open relations with girls and maybe there would have to be thousands and thousands of martyr's... killed by brothers defending the family honour!

The boys did not seem too impressed by this, as I could tell, they themselves were likely very much hooked into this story with their own sisters, which for them is not a story. It is just reality.

But this is how I sincerely feel about it... if the young people want change, they themselves have to make those changes and be prepared to fight for it and make sacrifices.

The boys told me, in a somewhat condemnational tone about teenage pregnancy in the west... I said I thought teenage pregancy was a very minor problem, at least in Australian society, maybe 183rd in the order or priority.

And I said that in liberal countries where boys and girls are really taught a very frank and open sex education, like the netherlands, it is rarely a problem, because it doesn't happen nearly as much as in England or Australia. And I said, the dutch boys and girls are very sexual with each other and I have found it to be a very sane and reasonable society.

The boys show me their English textbooks, and they tell me this is the first time that most of them have ever spoken with someone who speaks English as their primary tongue! Soon, I tell them I have to go and we exchange some email addresses and I go.

I pick up two young teenage hitchers just out of town, and then on the way to Dana, I have a crash... or something like a crash.

I am going down a windy road at maybe 60-70 k's an hour, approach a blind turn, which is very steep, which I cannot see so easily and brake... the car begins to skid and goes straight... I am thinking the car will stop soon, but it goes off the road and almost over the edge! Stopping, leaving me and the two boy hitchers on edge as the car seems to begin to go over! As we finaly stop, I say, "We made it!" in an exclaimative, excited way and tell the boys to get out as the back wheels of the car are hanging in the air. It is not like in the movies and there being some kind of 100 metre cliff below us, but it is still quite steep.

I initially think, maybe I can back up the car, but the boys show me that there are big rocks embedded underneath the car which would prevent that! And so the boys call the police, who are very nice and eventually we get a truck to pull the car out. (the truck driver does not want any money for his services, makes it clear he wants NOTHING! but I give the police some high end french cigarettes which they all light up happily!)

Then I have to go with the police to the police station. Initially, I thought, there are much better things I could be doing. But watching and interacting with the police is highly entertaining! I get the impression there is not much crime in Jordan. The police are the most boisterous and happy go lucky people I have met here! The men, when they see each other, kiss each other on the cheeks quite passionately and called each other "loved one" and "dearest" in arabic! (which is normal here btw, it just made an impression on me with these men with guns and in uniform acting this way. And of course there is the element of my sick western mind projecting "village people" connotations on the whole thing!)

They are all interested in me, and chat happily and ask a lot of questions and one of them says he has a cousin who is married to an Australian woman, who works in Canberra as a lawyerl

The police report is a laborious process and takes forever, and then I have to drive to the main police station in Talifa to pay for the police report, which is maybe 30 kilometres away. Funnily enough, there is a police woman there in the office I am taken to... there are a lot of police woman in Jordan... .you can often see them directing traffic.

So finally, I drive back to Dana, and am taken down into the main camp. It is perched right on the main mountain divide between the highland and the lowland. Most of Jordan is on the highland, and Israel (and the lusher land by the coast) quickly begins after getting down into the lowland. Jordan used to be a lot of this land and half of Jerusalem, but the Israeli's claimed this land themselves in the war of 1967. It does seem a bit of a no brainer to just give all this land to the Palestinians...

I get off the bus down to the main camp-site and right away, go on a walk. I am aware they can be quite officious here with their natural spaces and for most of the walks you need a guide. I just start walking on a track which seems innocuos enough and off I go!

It is funny, there is a saying in Arabic, "hell is where there is no other people!" and so this is how the majority of Arab's live. Even these spaces where you can be alone, it is difficult to actually be alone here. I get this sense of distrust about what you will do, alone on the land and they want to watch you. I got this when I was in Wadi Mujib too... a certain unease that the locals have... some of it is protective, but also, I feel they are trying to protect something too.

Dana is silent. Absolute silent and still. It is one of the most peaceful places I have ever been, I cannot wait to get further away from the camp... and head up a hill which looks quite easy with good views and there are obvious tracks.

Soon I get to the top and lie down and just absorb the stillness... like a lot of this land, it effects me being here and I feel I can reach something in myself. There is a clarity gained and I can feel the meridian system in myself, and release energies, mostly just this fear through the shaking of my jaw that I do.

On the way down, I stop at various points, go into the bush and just absorb the stillness... once I distrub a huge black snake that slivers away very quickly. Funny that, I NEVER see snakes in Australia and I go into the bush all the time.

Soon, when I am lying down, I hear a voice shouting, "JULIAN!!!".

Ah, well, they are onto me, and clearly have figured out that I have gone off walking by myself, and know my name from my registration in the guest book.

The guide looks a bit frantic actually... I tell him I'm fine and he says he has spent the last two hours looking for me. As we go back to camp, an American says, "did you find him?" and the guide points to me and I tell him I am an Australian and also Crocodile Dundee's son!

Then the guide gives me mint tea and soon, we take the truck back up to my car and I drive away, on my way to Petra. I get there at night and by sheer miracle, find a good hotel room for two nights. Petra is PACKED this time of year.

I remember seeing my father's slides he took in the late 60's of Petra and being very impressed and have always wanted to go there since then.

Many would also know Petra from the Indiana Jones and the last crusade, towards the end.



Petra is a Nabatean city that existed for some centuries around the beginning of the millinium, mostly gaining its wealth from controlling trade of spice and so on.

In its day, it was said to be very impressive, with plaster and colourful patterns, the Nabateans incorporated all the different styles of all previous civilations - the greeks, the romans and so on.

What is left of their city is some ruins and also, carved into the rock are some tombs, which is the main attraction for most visiting Petra.

I wake up a little late and enter Petra with a lot of the tour groups around 9am... they really are very annoying and I regret it later.

Very quickly, I realise I don't need two days here as my guide books keep saying! (I always travel with two guidebooks to cross rerence what they say!)

Interestingly, (or not so interestingly) as soon as you get off the main tracks, you are virtually alone.


I think that Petra as a natural site is impressive enough... the tombs and carving and ruins don't really impress me as much as I thought I would.... the place itself is wonderful... and the concept of creating a city, within and around the chasm and tunnels around mountains was a great idea.


Towards the end of the day, I go off around the back and actually walk through the mountain via a very narrow openended chasm. It is very nice here... quite a special place.

That night I do the petra by night tour, which is mostly good to go through the sique alone.

The next day I go to wadi rum, which is where they filmed a lot of lawrence of arabia... I get a bedouin to drive me out to T.E. Lawrences house (he was a good bricklayer!).... and walk from there. There are jeeps and 4wd's everywhere here zooming through the sand... and I go on a good three hour walk in the canyons and dunes of wadi rum, and go check out some old inscriptions in the stone.



Then I basically stay in Aqaba two days, doing some snorkeling there, and return my hire car (i have to pay for minor damages to the underside of the car!)

I do some research on the ferry ride to Sinai in Egypt and they all highly recommend not to take the ship! It technically should only take an hour... but is very late and takes hours and hours and would be about the worst ferry I have ever been on.

Arriving into Egypt is very, very, very hectic, on the boat, a guy takes up your passports and then gives them to you on the other side. But he is not just there.... you have to go and find him in an unsigned office where he gives you back your passport, and you have to find the bank and then pay for a VISA, with luggage over stones and dirt this is really tricky and I actually go through "customs" and then have to go back, expecting to be confronted by a desk at some point!

So then I haggle the taxi drivers and eventually get a ride to Dahab in a big white combi van, driven by a boy all dressed in white.

The landscape in the sinai is very impressive.I arrive into Dahab and am dropped off at a really nice and cheap hotel. Dahab is like some kind of pseduo-hippie backpacker heaven, which all these restaurants on the water and so on. But it is mostly a place where divers and snorkellers come to stay on the cheap!

It is all strangely refreshing... novel. Lots of russians here! Eventually I decide to stay here a week and chill out, explore, snorkel and stay in one convenient and bright place before going to Cairo and then back to Australian from Europe.

Lovely Lebanon

[this is the link to my full flickr set of photos from Lebanon.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/25797682@N03/sets/72157604883389837/

I have embedded a few photos into this text too...]

Thursday, I leave my hotel in Damascus late... as I have been doing every second day or two. Syria is an intense place! It is good to spend some time alone in the hotel capsule, as it seems to refresh me and bring me to put more energy into what time I have, rather than trying to squeeze every little drop out of the time I have, which I find tiring and flags my enthusiasm.

Today, I get to the Damascus museum at 11.45 or so and it closes in front of me until 2pm! So I decide to leave Syria and head towards Lebanon, which has always been my plan. I get my bags from the hotel and take a taxi to the place where international taxi's depart.

It is madness there.

As soon as getting out I am mobbed by dozens of taxi drivers making me offers for a trip to beirut. One man says 700 Syrian pounds, which is 10 euros, which seems excessively cheap and I ask double check with this is just for me to go to Beirut and he says yes. By the time he puts my bag in the boot of his big car, he says that 5 times 700 = 3500, which is like 50 euro for me to go to Beirut. (about $90 AUS)

I am not really willing to do that... the problem is that there are no gringos who are going to Beirut. I find a group of five Americans all speaking arabic to each other, but they have a full car. It is quite a scene actually and I am keen to just get out of there, but cannot justify a whole car to myself... and yet I don't really want to drive in a crowded car there full of people who possibly don't speak English. (even though it would be cheap!)

After about half an hour I see a tall brown skinned woman surrounded by men all haggling for her attention. I say, "are you going to Beirut?" and she says she is. I ask her if she wants to share the taxi with me, and she says she does and so off we go!

She is an American born, of Peruvian descent, who lives in Washington DC and who I will call Verona.

We are both the first independant traveler that the other has seen in Syria and we have a good talk along the way. Getting into Lebanon is really easy in comparison to Syria.

She says she wants to go see Byblos (some ruins and a fishing town) straight away and I say that sounds good, I would be into that too, we can share taxi costs.

As soon as we enter Lebanon, everything feels different.

There is strange kind of atmospheric compression in Syria... not altogether unpleasant, but going into Lebanon, it is like the roof has been taken off!

As soon as we get into Lebanon, it is clear we are back in the western world - with Starbucks and all these little and big accutrements of consumer capitalism you only take notice of them, when you haven't had them present for some time!

So we get a good deal on a taxi to Byblos. And going out of beirut the first thing I notice is how many billboards there are here... it is really quite extraordinary.... many of them very risque, nothing that would be tolerated in Syria at all!

Byblos was quite lovely actually... and I wasn't expecting it. Flowers are growing everywhere, the sea is emerald and the people are at ease. The atmosphere is exotic and fresh... truly cosmopolitan. Having been a major trading port for many thousands of years, this makes sense I guess!



The roman ruins are the same as what you usually see... and after walking through them, we go walk by the sea and have a beer at Pepe's bar on the water. Pepe is dead now, but you could see photo after photo of him with "name your favourite star from the 30's to the 70's" They would have yachted there from all over Europe.

I find a very small christian church that night and also a Church where the people near the church invited us to a feast for St Germain that Thursday....

That night I am taken out to dinner with one of Verona's male friends, Giorgio, we are literally on the water and the waves crash 10 metres from us, while the band plays inside and people dance and smoke aromatic nargilehs. (nobody here knows what a hookah is!)

Then we go to a very crowded bar full of expats and other international types. The funny thing I am getting about the Lebanese, is that in Australia, I think we have all these ideas about who the Lebanese are. I have to say, the stereotypes and public image of Lebanese in Australia are not very good and I think quite distorted.

And being here, it is good to see and be with the very diverse people's here... especially, the boho Lebanese in this bar, with the women wearing makeup like it is the late 60's!

Again, it is a matter of breaking through this one dimensional, overtly mental view of a race of people's or a group of peoples, and just coming to understand the diversity and yet also the threads and similarities which make up these peoples as part of what human beings are.

Giorgio see's a cute Lebanese girl at the bar... and they are clearly having some flirty eye contact. Later, I ask him about the possibilities with Lebanese girls, considering their religion and so on.

He said, basically... nothing is supposed to happen in this society, but if you understand that and realise that it does anyway, in an invisible way and realise how to make any dynamic invisible... then it is just the same as anywhere.

Funnily enough, he talked about the women wearing the birka's and said he found that more sexy than a revealed face!

He also mentioned that cosmetic surgery to create a hymen, for women who want to appear virgins at marriage, is a huge business in Lebanon. I suspect Lebanon makes a great deal of its money by being the most liberal country in the middle east.

As we stayed up to 3am that morning, it is a late start the next day, but Verona and I hire a car and go to Baalbek, the biggest temple complex the roman's ever built. It was actually their last "hurrah", before Christianity took hold.

On the way there, we find a very beautiful mosque which we take photos of.



And then when we get there, it seems we are the only one's there! (turns out there about 8 other people there!)

Baalbek really is quite something, and looks like it would have been as impressive as the Vatican in its day. Apparently the Roman's really wanted to impress the locals with their might... it is estimated 100,000 slaves worked on the site over 150 years and it was never really finished, and kind of semi-converted into a Christian place of worship as the romans gave old "baal" was given the shove for Christ!

Being in Lebanon without tourists is great! Everywhere else, this place would be swarming with tourists.

And I actually feel very safe in Lebanon. Unless the Israeli's decide to invade, it is very safe place I think. There are lots of checkpoints and once, I drove straight through one... until I was waved down and Verona told me to stop! The dude picked up his automatic weapon half his size and came towards us a bit ominously... but when I told him I was from Australia and this was my third checkpoint, and he smiled and waved me through! People in the middle east are good like this... they generally don't bother you with petty beurocracies or cause you any problems because everything is not in "order".

When I got my visa into Syria, I didn't have an address for my visa application. I tried to remember the name of the hotel, but couldn't. I told the uniformed guys my dilemma and I brainstormed with them for a little bit until they chuckled and said not to worry about it!

Whereas, I have friends who have terrorised by officials at American airport for hours because they forgot to bring a written address!

On our way back to Beirut, we go to a ruined Ummayad city Anjaar... which has some quite interesting arches I take some photos of.

Then we eat out at this huge restaurant where they serve us, among other things, ballooned potatos!

And then I drive back to Beirut. Driving in Lebanon, especially Beirut, is something else. The rules are there are no rules. People usually don't use their indicator and basically, you really have to push and shove to get anywhere.

Also, it is quite common for people to go extremely fast, not just speeding, but really taking it to the limit on city streets. It is common for cars to be going directly towards you on the wrong side of the road (seriously, all the time!).....added to this, there are always *two* teenage boys on little scooters without helmets swerving around madly in front of you, and people just sauntering across the road without a care in the world, and then there is the very common driver just crawling along at a snails pace, and the squeeling tyres of some hotrodder in a souped up car and you have a lot of potential trouble. But strangely enough... everyone seems to get to where they are going.

People are quite regularly braking quite suddenly, swerving around, screeching their tyres, backing up, lurching forward very fast and suddenly. Nobody uses their horn much...maybe because it is all horn.

I realised, driving in Beirut, you just have to fall in into this warfare in order to survive and NOT end up scared, stuck, in the middle of a traffic island, being assaulted from all sides, escape not being possible. You just to say storm forward and engage that inner cavalier spirit of the charge.

Whereas in Syria, driving was more a zen calm of syncronised parts all being one big whole... in Lebanon, driving is like all the parts magnetically opposing one another in frenetic conflict in order to achieve this always pre-assumed a to b.

Actually, in driving in downtown Beirut, I found myself becoming very gung ho (which is not easy to do in a Nissan Sunny!) and checked myself at one point.... because in Australia, if I drove like this, the cops would pull you over if they ever saw you.

As it is, in Lebanon, at the constant military checkpoints, the guys with huge automatic weapons seem to remind you that how you are driving perhaps isn't as important as other issues the "authorities" are trying to address. (Not that there is any sitting government in Lebanon at the moment, or a president either... but it all seems to work quite well. They have an interesting system of shared power in all the different community groups which seems to work for now. )

The constant experience of being in traffic is swearing like a trooper in amazement and awe, with a tone of condemnation that people can continue to drive like that and maintain a impact free vehicle and also their lives.

Strangely enough, at least 33% of the cars are Mercedes Benz's, another 27% BMW's, 20% are various american, korean and japanese cars, 10% assorted 4wd's, porches, lamborginis, infiniti's and so on... the other 10% are the cars that survived the decades long cival war in one piece!

I figured that actually, it is not ALL about having a good car in a superficial way of appearance. I think it really helps to have a good car to deal with spontanous friction of what is out there. And also, it is much harder to push your way in front of a gleaming, huge black BMW 730i saloon, than your average diarrhea coloured, oil saving, japanese bullet ridden shitbox from the 1970's.

But on the other hand, I am told people here like to get stuck in the traffic in front of the late night bars, so other people can see what cars they are driving.

I asked an ex-pat who lives here, "where are people getting the money to buy these cars?". He said they are often second, third hand. And also that it is known that a lot of wealthy people are basically bankrupt. That buying a Porsche and having it was the most important thing... whether you can really afford it is besides the point. I was told of one guy who owned a luxury car outlet in town, who sold heaps of cars and yet was basically bankrupt. As soon as the money comes in, it is spent!

There is this nightclub you can go to, where if you pay $3,000, it will buy you a huge bottle of Moet I think it is. Then the music will stop, other music will play, a spotlight will focus in on you and your group and some sort of opening the bottle ceremony will proceed for 45 seconds or so.

Asked how anyone could afford this... the owner said they often paid in installments!

I think a good key to understanding the Lebanese is that they are the descendants of the Phoenicians... mercantile, sea trading people - variously conquored by many over thousands of years. And very much used to hardship and forms of oppression, but they just keep persisting, in an optimistic and bright way!

The next day I go with Verona and her friend Saul to Tyre, which is in southern Lebanon.

Saul tells us that in 2006, you couldn't drive to Tyre as the Israeli's bombed all the bridges and the roads. Also, they cluster bombed most of southern Lebanon... and as 10% of cluster bombs don't go off, there are teams still destroying 30 cluster bombs a day...which are found everywhere. And these bombs still maim and kill people who accidentally set them off.

All this attack two years ago was started, because two Israeli soldiers were kidnapped by Hezbollah, who wanted to a swap these solidiers for some of their guys.

5,000 people in total died and in the end, the Israeli's were eventually repelled, never actually retrieved their soldiers and nothing was really achieved except more blood and more bad blood here towards Israel and increased support for Hezbollah. (who are already quite popular, seeing as they run hospitals and have a good track record of actually getting things done for the people, so people say!)

Funnily enough, Hezbollah has created computer game, where you are a Hezbollah militants attacking the Israeli forces! Saul says he actually plays the game on his computer and it is loads of fun.

In Tyre, we go to look at the old roman city there, which contains a huge old roman hippodrome, where they used to race chariots. There are stone coffins everywhere, and in a few of them, I find piles of human bones. I go to pick up one of the bones...but think, I wouldn't want my bones picked up by a tourist in the future and so don't.

We then go to a beach, which is actually really nice. The waters are surprisingly clear and very refreshing, and bikini's rather than birka's are the what the women wear at the beaches here!

Then we try and go visit a Palestinian refugee camp, but the border guards won't let us in. Saul has an official UN like card, but it is clear they don't want no tourists going in and checking out the scene there!

And then have grilled Barracuda's and mezze on the waterfront, near all the fishing boats. Saul has been here 18 months, and we are all economist readers(!)...so we have some good talks and understand more of the political situation here in Lebanon.

All that is way too much to go into in such a blog as this... needless to say I have more understanding of what people think and feel here about what is going, and different people's perspectives on the whole thing.

The next day I just spend in Beirut... looking around at the buildings and the street life. The entire downtown area is new, and there are not many people there at all. Building work is taking place everywhere.

I try to take photos of the what is left of the old city and just through that you can see how beautfiul it would have been. My father, who came here before the war told me how beautiful it was and I didn't believe him. I have also seen photos too which show this.



If any of the military guides saw me taking photos of the old buildings, they would usually tell me to stop. Once I was able to convince a guy that this was a necessary photo, and he let me and once I had to delete a photo.

Then I take a walk along the entire cornische, which is a walkway that goes around the shoreline of the entire city.

Ah, Ronny, is there anywhere you don't feel comfortable? Even in front of a poster of Hezbollah leader Nasrallah...


All the days I have in Beirut are lovely weather and I feel strangely invigorated and refreshed being there. My only regret is not going to the BO18 nightclub... this place that goes all night, in an underground bunker, where the tables are coffins and the roof literally comes off during the night.

In fact, I only went out once... and didn't push past my "I just don't really feel like going out and want to save myself for tommorow" story... and regret that, because you can see that the Lebanese really know how to party. In fact, I can't think of any other group of people's off the top of my head who seem so dedicated to this persuit.

I read some stuff online where a few people said they thought it was the best place to party in the world, and they have been everywhere. Not that I'm really into that paradigm (I went to Ibiza and didn't go out once either!), but it would have been very interesting at least.

So the next day I go to this cave complex called "Jeitta". I have to take a taxi there and it costs a fortune, but is worth it. Unfortunately, you are not allowed to take photos inside the caves, so I can't show any photos... even if you could, it wouldn't really show much of what it is really like.

Some of the staligmites are just huge.... it is something which is not easily explainable... all of it is lit up with huge spotlights, huge caverns and stalictites everywhere.

Then there was this other part of it, where you take a little silent boat on the underground river through the caverns. A lot of the people in boat are just saying things like, "this is unbelievable!" and various exclamations over and over. It is very impressive...pure natural art and I would highly recommend it to anyone if they ever get to Lebanon. (anyone?)

Then I have my taxi take me to the airport, I get out expecting a flight every hour to Amman in Jordan. Turns out I have to wait until 11pm for a flight with Royal Jordanian.

Always getting into a country is a new experience... and Jordan is no exception. Finally, I was getting into a country in the middle east which was not war torn or had been suppressed or oppressed by its leaders or other countries for decades... and that in itself was relief. Although, almost immediately, I missed the stimulation of Lebanon.

Amman strikes me right away as this very spread out, car dominated, very modern city. And not modern in any middle eastern comparitive sense... but just plain modern, but I feel also, it carries with it all the perils and complications of western life which i was not expecting to find in the middle east.

(fast forward four days)

Today, a young guy show me where I can buy fresh juice and then buys me an orange juice.

When he gives me his email address, I can see on the bottom of his left arm is a big raggedy barcode tattoo.

He gives me his email address, it is is "white_wolf_dead_soul@hotmail.com"

And then he says he has to go.

Refragging Davey (he's not wavy!)

Well, I have yet to really write my Lebanon reports and have been in Jordan some days... arriving and just beginning to really look around outside of Amman. The land is very powerful here! The highlights are the very captivating flowers... which I have yet to make essences of!

I have now put up my first Syrian photos on flicker here are some of the highlights from that set.

huh, I checked out the number of views on that upload already... and the photos of the horny donkeys has five views, while all the others have 0 or 1 views!

So, folks, here are the horny donkeys for your viewing pleasure!



And here are two photos of Apamea!






and an ancient water goddess for good measure... (this is actually one of the oldest statues in existence as I recall!)

Syria as Superpower

Apart from that "Che Guevara" tent in Aleppo, I have not come across any whiff of anything slightly jihadist or or Al-Qeada-ish at all here. Not that it doesn't exist... but there is no way you would ever see anyone with an Osama bin Laden picture in their shop or anywhere in fact... and that is the propoganda we are fed.

Apparently, it is very common for Americans to come here and expect to see this sort of evil darkly cloaked nation with terrorist training camps around every corner, because this is what the prevailing propoganda about Syria says it is like!

And then just find this place where the people are really nice and seem apolitical for the most part, and go about their life in a simple and clear way - sure, not in a super slick way. But at least, they haven't sold out to the global capitalistic borg of consumerism and appear to have a strong collective and individual focus on the inner life.

They are just not very materialistic people it seemed to me. Although Hane was interested in my ipod, when I told him he could get one on ebay and how he could use ebay in Syria, he just wasn't interested.

I talked to a hip (in the sense of up to date looking!) looking young man who said his mother was an animal vet in Australia. I said you should go visit, and he said he wasn't interested. He was something to the effect of that he was quite happy in Syria thank you very much!

Through Hane, I met a few switched on young guys, and the impression I had of them, was that they were simply very switched on, beautiful young guys. In many respects radiated a great deal more of a clear and vibrant sense of character than the majority of the "too cool for school" or "valley girl/boy" young people you meet in the west. 60% of Syria's population is under 25, so it is very much a young person's country.

And I saw signs of rebellion from the dominant paradigm too... I remember once I saw this teenage girl dressed in a purple suit who looked like a dandy! The strange thing was I saw her crossing the road in a town in the middle of the desert in the middle of the day. I now just wish I had stopped and asked her if I could take her photo!

So I think this is what is dangerous, when places like the middle east are depersonalised and the people there are stereotyped and become not quite human, just one dimensional, rabid towel heads.

This is what Hitler did to the Jews, with these images the nazi's pushed of the sneaky, swarthy hook nosed miser.

These days, I think subtlety and unsubtley, the prevailing stereotype in the west is of these very swarthy, super angry people, waving machine guns, ready to blow things up and commit terrorist acts for the sake of their religion.

And in this case, these sorts of stereotypes I think allow injustices to occur, because then the people involved become less than human in the abusers eyes. We only know the extremists in their extreme mode.

This is obviously a way of distancing oneself from the humanity, and generalising into flat people who are actually not people... who are different from "US"... and I think that is historically, largely a British innovation.

When the reality is, the arabs are generally very peaceful people. The men count their prayer beads like buddhist monks. Road rage or anything like it doesn't seem to exist. Generally, it seems to be part of the culture, to want to do right by other people.

I think the way to really defeat this is to see past the stereotypes - positive and negative and focus on the realities of the people and how they live.

When you think of Syria... what do you think of?

Now, for me, I think of this multidimensional panorma of humanity I met there... which is very different from any humanity I have ever met... and I couldn't say I felt they were apart from me, or very different at all. They felt more near to me than far, in many ways, more similar than different - in that this culture has allowed the development of certain facets of humanity which I did know of, which I began to perceive.

Even though this may sound trite, I felt like people were seeing me as part of their greater family and that I was one of them now - and that was a boon. At times, I felt them to be more extra-terrestrial than terrestrial, in that, they were not at all dreary or even a known quantity in an earthly sense.

Everywhere you go, people would say, "welcome, welcome!"... anyone and everyone would go out of their way to help me, because that is what people largely do there.

I was rarely a stranger, and people only welcomed me.

I regret not accepting tea from an obviously kind and well educated man in a shop in Palmyra, he really wasn't interested in selling me anything. (and I bought something anyway) And continually, I would see the coldness and distance which is just the norm in western life, and also in myself. And also, I would see it in other westerners, who would never say hello when I passed them or just muttered something and stared ahead, trying to avoid you, looking typically ashen faced and like they continually dwelled on the bad year for them, that was 1991.

Syrians seem to live like people in a big village. It seems that even in the big cities, that people like to know each other and I have never experienced this sense of community in any other country I have been to. I met a French woman who worked for the French Embassy in Aleppo for two years and she just swooned about her time there.

Syria is not a democracy in its strictest sense. But I tend to think what they have here is something quite valuable. Bashar is a leader who everyone I spoke to, thinks is great. They really do love Bashar. Even young people (like Hane's cousin) put stencils of a "cool" Bashar wearing aviator sunglasses on their car windows.

In fact, Bashar and his wife are almost an advertisement for almost randomly picking out two bright professional people and putting them in charge of a country! Rather than a system where the power hungry professional weasel is voted in, after compromise after compromise to his party and voters.

It seems that Bashar and his wife, have quite some power to make the reforms and do what they please, for the most part and the people oblidge. There wasn't even a mobile phone network or the internet here in 2000 when he came to power. Now, all that is everywhere.

I read an interview with Bashirs wife, Asma Al-Assad, who is a British born Syrian, who used to be a merchant banker, believe it or not. Everything she says is just incredibly articulate and spot on - even somewhat radical in its progressive and forward thinking nature.

From the photos, you can see she is this very beautiful and graceful person, and she is very active in spearheading changes around the country, especially in regards to women's issues.

Strangely enough, she probably knows more about international finance and such than her husband, who never finished his eye doctor training in London before he was called back to Syria, to become president at 34!

So I think Syria is in good hands. Bashar is not like his father, who seems like a bit of a hard lined tyrant, but remember, this is a place where all the religious factions are not at each other throat and they all seem to tolerate each other.

As I write this, I find out today Washington is releasing photos of what they say is a nuclear development facility which the Israeli's bombed, with a before and after photo.

It looks like an empty military building like the Syrians say rather than anything as advanced as a nuclear power station. I have researched into this a bit, and all the relevant say this is all patently ridiculous for MANY reasons.

The American's are alledging that Syria is developing Nuclear weapons with help from North Korea, without proffering any evidence at all.

And all this is just a few days after Jimmy Carter says that America and other countries must engage with Syria if they want to have an effective peace process.

So I think this is really some form of cunning anti-diplomacy... which can only led to more misunderstanding and confusion, and also help to further demonise America in the middle east, which can only worsen their plight and effectively castrate any influence or sway they may have.

Force is not a real influence. It is only this immediate thing which has no influence in and of itself, except to create counter-force. Force does not inspire any proud people to just surrender to it, unless they absolutely have to and then they will maintain internal resistance.

And that state, of anyone having to surrender to absolute force, is not a healthy state of affairs, which can only lead to trouble (which we witness in the middle east!)

At least in Iraq, some of the Allied commanders and soldiers on the ground are having to learn that the only way to effectively proceed is to win the hearts and minds of the local people.

This applies to the Israeli's too...I feel that sooner or later if they keep using miltary force, and create more and more enemies, as the that their "enemy" is going to bite back. There is no way to "win" in these sorts of situations.

All this warfare is only going to inspire more warfare, and more and more people to get onto the bandwagon of wanting the jewish state destroyed.

The American and Israeli seem to have the philosophy of an eye for 1,000 eyes and a tooth for 100,000 teeth. And that is no real protection... and will only makes matters worse for all I would have thought.

In 10-100 years, every secondary student may have the ability to create nuclear weapons... in a thousand years, it is almost certain. So if the human species wants to continue, we have to begin living as if any one of us has the power to press the button.

Really, I feel the only solution to all this is a human and humanitarian solution. The only peace is in the heart and in the mind. At the moment, the hearts and minds of anyone in the middle east is not really being addressed by those who would have enough influence to influence them in some kind of obviously constructive and positive way.

Regardless of all this political stuff, I really do think Syria is a great place to experience a pure, but tolerant muslim country, relatively untainted by western values.

The food is supurb. The worst food I had was actually at the supposedly best restaurant in Aleppo! The next day I ate some little pizza things for 1/200th of the price, which were so much better than anything they gave me at that restaurant!

But it is not an easy country to travel in. Most people go there in big tour groups and rarely did I see independent travelers there... in fact, I think I could count them on two hands.

You know, the rocks and ruins are fine and I don't regret seeing them at all, but if I go again, I would spend more time along the Euphrates, visit the coast, spend more time with the Bedouin and maybe go visit some Kurdish settlements.

Like anywhere, I often think the best time you can have is to go off the beaten track and walk around in villages and towns and of course, in nature, and see what you see and encounter who you encounter!

The Road Leading Back to Damascus

http://www.flickr.com/photos/25797682@N03/sets/72157604693673896/

Tuesday, I wake up early In De-ez-Zur and begin my drive to Damascus, where I will return the hire car. The drive across the desert is mostly uneventful. I stop and turn to see a site called Quasir Al Shaqi, an old Ummayed palace from the 8th century in the middle of the desert .

You cannot miss the signs on the highway, but then going into the town, it is absolute confusion, where the signs just stop. I stop, ask a boy and he gets in and shows me the way, twisting and turning, until he says to go straight along this road. He wants some money and I give him a little bit and then go off down the road.

Later on, I pick up an older Kurdish guy hitching, who shows me which way to go, basically, we take two rights, and there are no signs at all on the way! Finally, after a half hour, I get there and it is just a big old fortress which is falling down. There is a tour bus there when I get there and then they leave and I am all alone. I have a quick look and then leave again soon. I was expecting some kind of oasis actually... but it is absolute desert all around!

I get back on the main highway and go into the Talila reserve, which is said to be one of the few places where the natural environment is protected in Syria. A man opens the gate to the reserve and I drive past the empty fairground and I am again, the only one here! I keep driving towards the "wild animals" and finally get to a station, some bigger gates and meet a man who tells me I can go look at the wild gazelles which are grazing behind the fence and I also climb up the quite big outlook tower.

It is interesting to see how the area behind the fence is much lusher than the ungated terriorty. Desert is very easily eaten up by domesticated and wild animals I suppose. I read in my guide book, that they say that it will take another 30 years for this environment to return back to its natural state (whenever that was previously possible is anyone's guess!)

I have a quick lunch in Palmyra and then am off again. I see ahead of me on the side of the road a large ute like vehicle with this huge machine gun mounted on the tray, above the cab and a solider who puts out of his palm! I wave at him, rather than stopping... and wave to all the other guys on the side of the road who are waving jollyly to me as well!

I am a bit freaked out... I realise a bit late, that this was a check point, and he was asking me to stop! A part of me just doesn't trust anyone alone with that kind of gun on their vehicle. I noticed later the the soldier in the rear view miror is somewhat bemused and so am a bit relieved! As the last thing I would want is one of those vehicles chasing me down the highway!

I get into Damascus in the late afternoon and brave the traffic once again. When I get into the centre of town, I ask a taxi driver to escort me to my hotel, as it would take a long time to find it otherwise.

I am relieved to drop off the car and I am pleased to finally be in Damascus. I have a very favourable impression of the city. Being the oldest continually inhabited city in human history, there is something very solid about it.

The next day is spent walking around the old city mostly... the souqs and checking out the Mosque, which is actually very impressive. I don't have any of that feeling I have in the mosque I had in Aleppo and it is a place where people gather and honestly come to reflect and pray. Children love the place, and are racing around and playing at full volume.

I also go into this old house, which was the home of one of the big whigs during the Ottoman empires reign... it is interesting enough, with strange mannequins in a lot of the rooms showing how the people used to live and what they used to look like.

But really, for me, most of Damascus I have seen before in other places in Syria, it is the same sort of thing, only more highly compressed. So now, at least, I feel I have got a good grip on what Syria is like.

So I sit down to rest at one point and a man comes up and talks to me, I am a little wary, as I think he may be trying to sell me something or be my guide or whatever, but it turns out he just wants to talk.

He is on military service, but originally comes from Lattakia, a coastal city some distance Apamea I didn't really have time to check out.

He is a young man, clearly intelligent, wearing western clothes and very open and gentle in his countenance.

We talk about my travels, where I have been and how I have experienced this country and so on.

We talk about his military service, he is apparently just working in the textile department, and is enjoying it, because working in textiles is his normal job.

I ask about homosexuals in the army. He says... well, every army has men dressed as women, including the Syrian army. And homosexuality is a phenomen known to be more common in the army than in regular life. He said, if they are found out at all, they are thrown out of the army and basically negatively branded for life, to the point where any sense of movement in their life is impossible!

I asked him about homosexuality in Syria in general and he said, it just wasn't something that happened. The stigma was too big. It was just not acceptable behaviour.

I noted to him, how here men are often found holding hands in the street and being very affectionate to each other. And how that kind of behaviour between heterosexual men just does not happen in Australia, as that kind of affection implies homosexuality. Only very recently, have I noticed a shift in this...

And two men in Australia holding hands in the street COULD ONLY imply that they were crusaders of the homosexual cause! He found this very, very amusing, as men holding hands in Syria ONLY implies that the men are good friends - nothing else!

I asked about heterosexuality in Syria, and he said what I had heard before, that every man is expected to find a wife and get married. He said also, what he looked for in a woman mostly was her ability to be a good mother and wife.

I asked if men and women ever slept with other men or women before marriage. He said no. He would only marry a woman who was a virgin when he met her and that he could not marry a woman who slept around or even with one man! He said he thought that would mean that she would be a poor parent!

I said, Swedish girls noticably seem to sleep around a lot before they get married, and that is culturally accepted there and that there is no evidence or sign, this makes them lesser parents. I said, I said in many ways, Sweden is the most humane and civil society I had ever been to.

So I said to him, did he think that in the coming years, would a sexual revolution, like the one the west experienced in the 60's, where it came to pass that men and women decided it was not necessary to be married to engage in sexual intercourse ever occur in Syria?

I said, I had recently been to South Korea and that South Koreans are now experiencing their version of the sexual revolution, where young people are deciding it is acceptable and normal to have sexual relations outside of marriage.

He said he thought so, that it was perhaps inevitable...maybe in 10 or 20 years.

We are about to get onto some really interesting territory when his phone rings and he turns it off. Then it rings again, and he says he has to go, he is being called back, and so we exchange good byes and he leaves.

It is all very interesting... it is funny, as I was taking the bus on the way into Syria I began writing all this material about marriage.

I related marriage to a construct of religion. St Paul (who was on his way to Damascus to persecute the christians, when he had a vision of Jesus!) said that, the man should marry if he must, because it is better for him to marry than burn! Whether he means in lust or in hell is not quite clear, but it is clear that the two are synonymous!

Of course, animals often remain in mating pairs for their whole life time... and perhaps in a basic sense, marriage is the natural order of things. But we are not just animals either and are much more social creatures, who do appear to have higher function rather than just breeding!

My friend said in Syria, divorce was seen as being unthinkable, and it is so clear that so much damage is done to the children when this happens. I said that divorce in the west seemed to indicate to me that people seemed to outgrow one another. All of what I have seen, indicates that human beings seems to naturally grow with different people related to where they are at in different parts of their life.

Recently, I read about the Elizabeth Taylor of the Egyptian pop world, who married 18 times! That is of course, making a mockery of marriage as being to one and only one person for your entire life. But these mutants like Elizabeth Taylor and indeed so many people in our society seem to demonstrate that one person till death do us part does not work for a lot of people. We can say, well, it is they who are at fault for not making it work.

I have come to the conclusion, that of course each of us is different and it seems to me that the mistake we make is looking or expecting to find this perfect person for us for all time. But the perfect person for us in any given time in our lives seems to be entirely different.

What I tend to think, and what I experience, is that being in relationship enables you to be in relationship. That if we took a more serious view of relationship as being a sphere of self development, rather than an end in itself. it would enable us to grow more in relationship and I think, for women and men, if what they want is a traditional family, find the right person for them to whom they would be able to be together with for perhaps the rest of their lives. I think many don't seem to find that person or choose the wrong person, perhaps because they are not dedicated to self development in relationship that would enable them to attract and find the right person for them!

Another factor that interests me, is that as we are entering into a global culture, I think there is so many more people available to us... rather than a few people in the same village of around the same age, who would be suitable for us. That is somewhat incestuos behaviour, which genetically, I think creates inbreeding.

I mean, in cooking, you add flour and flour, you get flour, but if you add a flour and egg you get something entirely new. Life seems to like this sort of creative diversity. Traditionally, you are often expected to marry within the clan, but I think this is changing a lot recently.

And I think this is related to genetically, humanity truly becoming interconnected, not cuturally separated and compartmentalised. I don't think life wants everyone to marry within their tribe or group - that kind of world would be very boring I think.

And I think part of this, is being useful to oneself and others, and in some sense, being able to love oneself and others, and be able to grow and facilitate the growth of others.

I would love to be with a syrian woman, not just for one night, or even for a few weeks, maybe even for some months or years...maybe even the rest of my life. Maybe I would like to have a wife in every country... and that she would have a husband in every country as well... wouldn't that be quite an expanded world?

Bear with me on this one... of course its not practical or really very possible now... but this kind of view somehow liberates from the isolationism of this enclosed coupled marrige-dom, this would be a world where relationship would be given a high credence, even the number one priority.

But I don't believe in this idea of belonging or ownership... that is not freedom. And I don't think unintelligent permissiveness is intelligent or respectful either. I think there is real meaning and importance to our relatings and if we were able to see this and act on the basis of it, the world would be a much more interesting place.

I think if women were revealed in a stable place in her true dominion (not just the home, but in society), rather than quite obviously hidden as is the case here in Syria, she would be at home in society, be stable in it as home and so be supported enough that she would not be seeking so much this "husband as security."

Both men and woman I think, want to love other men and women freely, ultimately, and ultimately I don't think that this love always has to be sexual and this where we find ourselves locked in and dependant on the physical, when actually the most fullfilling relating and being with others is always non-physical, and I think that is the case even in love making. But such love is usually, in most societies, deemed to be only able to occur between two married people - a man and a woman.

So, we live in a society, which is yet to realise the living nature of relationship, the emotions and actual true basis for what we are beyond "the mind."

Indigenous people's instinctually take these things a lot more seriously than us and often base their societies around inner realities (collective and individual) and so did the white people many thousands of years!

I think the true feminist cause now is to bring these realities to the forefront of human society, so they are recognised and brought to bear in a real way. It is maybe mostly women who can liberate men and women from this sexual knot which ties us to the grosses level of the physical and prevents us partaking of heaven, here on earth.

Funny, I am ruminating on all this, in what is often called the "chastity capital" of the world!

Of course, the religions represent perhaps the greatest obstacles to people actually realising that... they all say heaven is not available here on earth. Which many of us know is not true.

In the book "One River" I am reading, a young female missionary says about her Experience with the Mazatec Indians in Mexico.

"Once I tried to explain heaven to a young woman," she said Smiling as she poured Schultes a cup of tea. "I said it was a beautful place, a place where there are no tears. She asked me wether I had been there. I said no. I explained that only the dead could know heaven. Then she looked at me with the saddest face. She said she was so sorry for me. And she left almost in tears."
"How strange," Schultes said.
"It was only later I realised that most Mazatec actually claim to have been to heaven."
"With the mushrooms?"
"Yes. They believe Jesus speaks through the mushrooms, that their visions are messages from God."

The Euphrates and its People

Photos I took relevant to this page can be found here:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/25797682@N03/sets/72157604687128362/

On the morning of Monday, I woke up at 9am, and as I walked outside, people mentioned my car had a flat tyre. It was the tyre I had to pump up a bit previously, so riding through the desert with Hane driving must have pushed it over the edge!

People considered it to be a big deal and many offered to help, I said it was no problem and would change it later, which baffled them actually!

I took my macbook air to the cafe and used the surprisingly fast wireless internet there for an hour and had breakfast.

Then as I walked back to my car, who do I see but Hane! He is surprised to see me too, he says we should have tea, but I say I've really got to fix my tyre and get out of here, as I have a big day ahead.

He says, we should go see his friend, and we walk five metres, turn right into a cafe and says his friend is a pro. I am a little bit doubtful, but go with the two of them, up the road and sure enough, to a little tyre shop on the corner.

It turns out there are three sharp pin like objects in the tyre, so I have to buy a new one and get it fitted, which they do very quickly indeed.

Hane's friend wants to drive back, so I say, "okay" not so reluctantly. So we go back to the cafe and have some tea and something to eat. And we go cruising around for a bit, blaring out middle east pop hits from the stereo, from two tapes that they generously give to me.

As they are driving, Hane and his friend waving and getting surprised stares from people they know. We go get some petrol, I go into the sunglass shop and I would not be surprised if I set a world record for buying sunglasses. After stopping and entering the shop, it would have been two seconds at the most before then I say, "I'll have a pair of those!" pointing into the cabinent behind the desk. (yes, there was actually a sunglass shop in Palmrya!)

So at about 12.30pm, I finally get going!

The first part of the drive is fairly unremarkable... just the desert for the most part. I stop and in Deir Ez-Zur, I pick up a thin gentle soldier hitching with his big negro coloured stereo system, then drop him off in a big town called Mayadin.

When I drop him off, some people working in the roadside service shops, invite me to tea. And as usual, I am the star and entertainment for about 20 minutes. As I leave I give them all high fives, which some of the men find weird and won't do! While the boys are absolutely delighted... and then I zoom off again.

I take a left turn over the euphrates, and end up on this road which I think is no longer the highway. It is a bit rougher and consists of continuos houses and villages along the euphrates.

Any time I see the river it effects me quite a bit, it is a gorgeous cyan/blue like colour, not mud coloured like I was expecting.

I keep driving and feel somehow refreshed, the women by the sides of the roads wear the most extraordinary and colorful clothes and the men often more minimal and you can see all these gentlemen walking on the footpaths counting their prayer beads... in fact, I have never seen so many religious fellows since I have been in the country.

The area around the euphrates is so lush, and it is quite incredible what a difference a river makes! but the funny thing is, the influence only extends at maximum a kilometer, and then it is completely flat and barren desert again!

Soon I reach a spot where I think I can walk to the river without anyone around or disturbing the crops... so I grab my canon g9 camera and go. People by the river are quite surprised to see me and as I walk up towards the river more and more people notice me.

The river is a very powerful presence, almost clear in colour, and has this nurturing quality about it... no wonder this river was what supported and brought about some of the first civilisations in our recorded history.

Soon, I am walking towards some water pumps and find this whole water pump complex, pumping water from the river into many different irrgation canels.

Boys gather around me, speak broken English and I take some photos of them and show them the photos.

Then I keep walking, into a village and am immediately swamped by kids and various people interested in my presence. I manage to take some good photos of some of the kids on a fence especially!

I doubt many of them have really seen a white person closeup before... and they simply stare and stare.

Some of the women pose for my photos, while others scurry away shyly, while coming back when I down my camera to check me out more.

Soon I have been invited to sit in a courtyard outside a house, surrounded by children firstly, then women and the occaisonal man. They give me water, which they say is from the euphrates, and it is absolutely clear, and very nice tasting.

There are so many people around me, I get hot and sweaty, so one of the women begins fanning me! I take photos of them sometimes, and show them the photos on the digital screen, which makes them all giggle and laugh!

Some of the men come over and shake my head. One of the figure is the obviously the village mullah, as people tell me and he clearly approves of my presence.

Soon, I say I have to go, as I want to get to Mari, this ancient ruined city, one of the oldest in Syria, before sunset and it is already getting late.

Walking through the village, a boy comes up to me and speaks perfect English to me. He says he learnt it in school, and is the only one who speaks english to me. I say to him, get me an email address of someone in the village and I can email the photos to you all. He says okay, and goes into a house, as if to get the email address and I don't see him again.

As soon as I get to the road, there is a couple of older guys blocking the way! They seem a bit grumpy, like I have wandered into some kind of protected area! And soon this very old guy come over. He puts his hand out and I shake his hand, but he holds onto to mine! At first I think he is just being friendly, but then I get a bit of a captive feeling. I ask him if it is alright to take his photo and he seems to be alright with it... then after I take a couple of shots, turns his head away and speaks arabic to the men! One of the men, pulls out some kind of what looks, super ID card... it looks like some kind of official authorised card.

I get the impression this old guy is some kind of super-mullah patriarch. They start asking me for my passport and I say I don't have it on me, that it is in my car and they say, they don't see my car. And I say, that is because it is around the corner! The old guy says he wants money, at least it is obvious that is what he is asking. But I profane total innocense. There is no way I am setting a precedent of gringos giving the locals money in order to just leave them alone! This seems to exasperate the old guy and so I show them drivers license, holding it in my wallet, as if that is my ID and about the only right they have over me is to see it.

The old mullah then seems to get a bit hard core, speaking arabic to me and making a cutting motion on his left hand.

At first, I just think he is just a silly old bugger, who has no power over me at all... but he keeps making this cutting motion with hand. And then I remember, the village mullah has the power to cut off people's hand, if they have stolen something... the only thing I can think of, is that he thinks I have stolen something by taking these people's picture. Which is clearly rubbish, as all had a good time and saw themselves in the camera and was a mutual cultural exchange!

I get a bit nervous at this point, as they are all now getting a bit hardcore, there are dozens of kids around me at this point... and they are being stirred up by this old guy and the other men.

So I say to them, I need to go to my car to get the passport and they say, "we don't see your car" and I say, that is because it is around there! I turn around suddenly and walk quickly towards my car, the men and all the boys shout "stop, stop!" but I have nothing more to say to these people.

Soon I get to my car and quickly get in, there is like a boy crouched in front of my car, as if to stop me from driving. So I turn the engine on, back off quickly, as another boy gets out the way as I speed back! Then I turn back into the road and speed off as the boys lunge toward the car and one of them hits the window, as they are all saying "Stop! Stop!".

Again, it is a case, where they all think I am going to respect the authority as rebellion in this country is inconceivable it seems to me.

The men and boys are making some kind of road block, but speed up and make it clear I am not going to stop and they get out of the way quite quickly and off I go! My heart is racing at this point and I am a bit freaked... I don't think it could have gotten too ugly as there was nobody there who could really restrain or stop me. I would have pulled some kung fu moves I have learnt from the movies and freaked them out enough to get out of there... but I feel their psychic claws and it was not a real pleasant experience.

There are idiots everywhere in the world, and Syria is no exception... unfortunately, this kind of opportunistic vampirism has to stop if Syria wants to become more visited by tourists. It has 3,000 historic sites, while most middle eastern countries have a few hundred. It is a perfectly good example of a stable middle eastern culture which respects tradition, but is also somewhat modern in outlook.

Yeah sure, I have enough money to get to Syria and travel around, but what I have is tiny compared to all the big black, top of line tinted windowed Mercedes Benze's I see cruising past on this road, with number plates from Qatar or Kuwait. Nobody owes anyone money just because they have some!

It is said that the Bedouin will never accept money for their hospitality. But also, strangely enough, tourism may well be the only factor which enable them to survive living their lifestyle. How that will work out is anyone's guess...

So I keep driving along this beautiful road and stop and ask one of the elderly prayer bead weilding arab gentlemen for direction to Mari, I show him the arabic my Bradt guide shows for the site. He tries to give directions, but eventually, just gets in the car and say in Arabic he will go with me!

These older guys have such a friendly countenance and I cannot think of anywhere I know where someone would get in the car with a "stranger", and show you where to go! I am presuming he was already wanting to go to that area anyway!

After about 15 minutes we are very close to the Iraqi border and you can feel this tension and menace... the guide says there are check points along the way to the border, but I don't see any. We get to the town, the old gentlemen gets out, talks to what seems to be a friend, an even older gentlemen and he then gets in!

Off we go again, down the road and after 10 minutes or so, he gestures that he wants to get out here! and also that Mari is just a kilometre further, then I should turn right. I thank him and he gets out.

I get the feeling these old guys are somehow compensating in friendliness for the bad example of patriarchic male I experienced near the river. And in general, this prevents me from generalising at all about such men.

So I get to Mari, as the sun is going down and I am the only one there as is so often the case in this country. There are some ruins covered in a tent and you can walk through them like a maze... the site is very dry and muddy. And walking around, you can pick up bits of pottery EVERYWHERE!

The site is from 3000 BC, and is said to be the most important Mesopotanian site that exists and existed for about 1500 years, until the Babylonians destroyed it. The site is not amazing or anything, but is a peaceful and interesting place to wander over for an hour or so. I am especially looking for bits of ceramic showing ancient cuneiform writing... but find none!

So then I drive back to Deir ez-Zur, which is the city on the euphrates. I find a good hotel, go into town, have some falafel and then go to sleep. In my dreams that night, I discover on the ground oranate ceramic pieces displaying elaborate cuneiform writings.