tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15307326360795269132024-02-20T20:15:52.118+10:00Grays in MotionKen and Kerryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318357910439831448noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1530732636079526913.post-50525061623060173172010-02-16T21:07:00.008+10:002010-02-18T15:47:01.332+10:00Blog 7 CyprusAs we left Jordan, every woman was given a very thorough body search and then another when entering Cyprus. The men just walked through the normal security gate. I was told later that, at present, it is women, particularly those that look Western, that are being used as carriers. <br /><br />Soon after we arrived I heard from my brothers that my 86-year-old mum, who lives in a nursing home, had fallen and broken her hip. She had to be taken from Gunnedah to Tamworth for surgery. A pin was successfully inserted but at first the pain was so great that she did not want to walk and we feared she may become bedridden and unable to return to her ward and her familiar territory in the nursing home. Then news came that she had taken about ten steps. However, since then she has had trouble eating and so is tired and weak. We wait on news each day.<br /><br />We loved the Middle East but coming into Larnaca in Cyprus I felt myself relax a little as we entered a culture not unlike our own. One with level footpaths, traffic lights (at least for the cars if not for pedestrians), street lights, street with names, cars driving on the left, green gardens, clothing stores with winter sales of familiar fashions and with a lot of English being spoken in the shops and on the streets. Not to say that all these things were missing from every Middle Eastern city. One thing that was the same as the Middle East and is still a struggle to remember to do is this:<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7616.jpg" width="400" height="300" /> <br /><br />Before I tell you of our adventures on Cyprus let me relate a little of its history so that you can make sense of some of the stories throughout. The first Cypriot inhabitants date to the Neolithic Age. Then came a wave of immigrants from Mycenae on the Greek mainland. Later there was domination by the Phoenicians, Assyrians, Egyptians, Persians and annexation by the Romans it 58 BC. In 12th century Cyprus became independent. Then Richard the Lionheart conquered the island in 1191 but, not wanting it, gave it to a Frankish knight whose dynasty lasted until the Venetian takeover in 1489. In 1571 the Ottoman Turks took control. Then, in 1878, fearing he could not resist a Russian attack on Cyprus, the Sultan of Turkey put the administration of Cyprus in English hands. In WW1 Turkey fought on the German side so Britain annexed Cyprus and declared it a British Colony after the Treaty of Lausanne. In 1955 a group called the EOKA undertook guerrilla warfare in a bid to oust the British and see Cyprus unified with Greece. This very bloody campaign ended in 1959 not with unification with Greece but with the declaration of the Republic of Cyprus. The government was to have a Greek Cypriot President and a Turkish Cypriot deputy. In 1963 hostilities flared between the two communities and some Turkish Cypriots retreated to the North. UN troops moved in. In 1967 there was a coup by an EOKA leader supported by the military junta then in power in Greece. Days after the coup the Turks invaded to protect the Turkish Cypriots and took Northern Cyprus, resulting in 1974 in what is called the Green Line, the boundary between Northern and Southern Cyprus. Greek Cypriot refugees fled to the south and Turkish Cypriot refugees to the north, with the UN guarding the border. In 1983 the North declared the independence of Northern Cyprus but this was recognised only by the Turkish Government. To Southern Cyprus (and most of the rest of the World) the North is the Turkish Occupied Territory. When Southern Cyprus joined the EU in 2004, Turkish Cypriots were allowed to come back and live and work in the south but they weren't allowed to sell the properties they had deserted. Many travel daily from their homes in the north across the Green Line to work, since work is more available and better paid in the south. <br /><br />Now, about our experiences in Cyprus. We flew into Cyprus after they had just had a week of very heavy rainfall and when the forecast for the next two weeks was cloud, rain, wind and very low temperatures. Since our plan was to spend most of our fortnight walking the nature trails we were a little worried. <br /><br />The guide book led us to believe that Cyprus could be easily and cheaply accessed by public buses. However, we discovered that each leg of the journey was quite expensive, especially since we needed to multiply the cost by three each time. With the threat of inclement weather and the existence of off-season prices we opted instead for hiring a car. As the fortnight proceeded and we realised how inaccessible many of the walks and attractions are, we were very glad to have our little vehicle. (A 4-wheel drive would have been even better!) <br /><br />As it turned out we were rarely hampered by rain and usually walked mid-morning to mid-afternoon when the weather was warmest. There were days, however, where the wind was bitter and, though the car thermometer read 8 - 10 degrees C, the chill factor was high. To stay warm while obeying the 'no food in the car' rule, Huds found this solution. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7573.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />With its snowy mountain peaks,valleys filled with vineyards and orange, mandarin, almond and olive orchards, pine forests, <br /> <br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7641.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />and beautiful coastlines,<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7704.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Cyprus is a wonderful place to walk. People obviously don't usually walk in winter; on most walks we didn't see any other adventurers and the chairs provided for resting and viewing were invariably under trees to give shade on hot summer days. Look at the position of this chair, tree and view.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7589.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We think the authorities are fighting a losing battle to ban game shooting, judging by the empty shotgun cartridges, and one live one, and this bullet-pocked sign. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7563.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We didn't see any of these on our walks,<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7567.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />and had to be content to watch the wild sheep, called mouflon, in their natural enclosure.<br /><br />One walk took us through the town of Gialia. Here the Greek Cypriot government has leased out to Greek Cypriots homes belonging to Turkish Cypriots so that the houses don't deteriorate from this,<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7596.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />to this. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7598.jpg"400" height="300" /><br /><br />The owners of the houses are presently in Northern Cyprus. Apparently the Turkish government has not been so 'thoughtful' in Northern Cyprus and Greek Cypriot land has been sold and built upon by Turks and their houses sold. In fact we were told that the Turkish Government has a policy of colonization and has settled Kurds, gypsies and other people groups with cultures quite foreign to the Cypriots. Those Northern Greek Cypriot land owners who could afford the legal fees have fought and won cases in the European law courts but the findings of the courts have not been recognised by the Turkish government. The less moneyed Northern Greek Cypriots, who would be the majority since they were refugees who fled leaving everything behind, are waiting for the political situation to change so that they can reclaim their land and houses. <br /><br />Driving the mountain roads is an experience. There are virtually no straight sections, for the roads wind continuously up and down the sides of mountains with precipitous drops to the side. Fortunately, on many trips, we didn't even see another vehicle, so we didn't have to fuss about the narrow roads. But what did make it hazardous was having to continually dodge the stones, and even boulders, from the crumbling cliff faces that were scattered across half the road, and sometimes more than half.....<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7609.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />Of course, there were also the incredibly narrow streets which had to be negotiated in some of the villages but, fortunately, Cypriot drivers, unlike Greek drivers, will wait before entering streets that clearly only one car can pass through at a time, if someone from the other direction has already entered it. Cypriot drivers do, however, choose interesting places to park—on double yellow lines that can attract a 50 euro fine, in the middle of the road, on blind corners, in one car wide one way streets, and... take a look at this one.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7671.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We came by the next day and the vehicle was gone but so was a lot of the concrete!<br /><br />The destination for one trip was a nature trail that took the walker past a series of Venetian bridges. When we finally arrived at the first of the Venetian bridges, we discovered that the trail did not follow the very pretty stream linking the bridges but rather went along the road. We decided to continue along the road by car rather than by foot and pick the trail up at the second bridge. The second bridge was extremely picturesque,<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7658.jpg" width="400" height="300" />><br /><br />but again the trail diverted away from the stream. The road ahead was closed for an hour and a half for a car rally, so we walked a short distance along the trail and then, hearing the roar of motors, sped back to watch the rally cars negotiate the stream. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7661.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />A little later two of the rally cars limped back because they had sped around a corner and had been unable to avoid one of those boulders which stray onto the road that I mentioned before. The drivers were unhurt but the cars sounded really sick, and later we saw a tow-truck coming to the rescue. While waiting for the rally cars, we came upon four elderly people using two-forked hoes (but not pigs) to search, very successfully, for truffles.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7667.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />We are becoming very picky tourists. We don't race off to see every church, mosque, museum or ruin. We did go to St Lazarus Church. After his return from the dead, Lazarus was supposedly evicted by the Jews, because he was walking evidence of Christ's miraculous powers, and went to Cyprus where he eventually became a bishop. When he died the second time he was reportedly buried in this.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7465.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The coffin is empty, not because he was raised a second time but because most of his bones were removed to Constantinople (and later stolen and taken to Marseilles). The people of Larnaca did not want to give up their precious relics, so the patriarch allowed them to keep some of the bones and had this church built for them.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7480.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Some of the frescos that adorned much of the interior walls and ceilings were intact and in good order. We also saw these.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7469.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /> <br />When people are praying for healing, they bring a wax image of the sore bit and put it on the altar. The man who makes these wax images and the candles that people buy and light in the church is a 90 year old (though he looks only about 70). After the candles have burnt down and the wax images are no longer needed, the church collects the wax and sells it back to the old man. Great recycling don't you think!<br /><br />We had never seen ruins of a Neolithic Village before. At Choirokoita they have reconstructed a Neolithic home<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7507.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />near the ruins of the Neolithic village.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7498.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />Each home consisted of several flat roofed, sun dried mud brick and stone cylindrical buildings about 5 m in diameter and each with a specific purpose, a kitchen (distinguished by the remains of a pestle and hearth), sleeping quarters (with a wooden sleeping platform lodged into the wall at head height) and a work room. The dead were buried beneath the floor of the sleeping quarters. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7491.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />Kourin was once a large Roman town. Its theatre was set in the hillside with a magnificent view of the coast. There were also some fabulous mosaics in the ruins of the homes. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7539.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Kykko Monastery, set in a little travelled area of the mountains, is astonishingly beautiful. All the walls and ceilings down the long corridors of this two-storey complex are decorated with mosaics and frescos.<br /> <br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7617.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7625.jpg" width="400" height="300" /> <br /><br />It has spacious courtyards, each with a well. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7619.jpg" width="400" height="300" /> <br /><br />The monastery is reportedly refreshingly cool in summer but freezing cold in winter. The entrances to the monks' cells are really low. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7618.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Cypriots are quite small and I guess that when the monastery was built they were even smaller still. We peeked through a door that was ajar and, to our surprise, discovered that the room was large and luxuriously furnished. Perhaps this was a special room rather than a typical monk's cell.<br /><br />The old city of Nicosia is surrounded by intact incredibly huge Venetian walls. You enter through grand old gates.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7674.jpg" width="400" height="300" /> <br /><br />Nicosia is now the only divided capital of the world. The Green Line dividing North and South Cyprus goes right through the centre of the city. There is a 50m buffer zone strung with barbed wire and guarded by UN troops between. You must show your passport and get a signed and dated paper to get from one side to the other. This infuriates Greek Cypriots with houses in the north. <br /><br />Though we had read of the dilapidated buildings near the buffer zone, we were not ready for the sandbagged buildings with holes for rifles. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7689.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The most interesting place was the privately-funded 'Struggle Museum', which covered the guerrilla war mounted by EOKA in 1955 - 59 and through which the Cypriots struggled for, and gained, independence from Britain. The exhibition would make a great subject for studying critical literacy as it unashamedly gave just one side of the story. The Cypriot freedom fighters were referred to as 'heroes' (whereas the British would have seen them as revolutionaries, if not terrorists) and the focus was on the Greek Cypriots and the 'Greekness' of Cyprus, even though the outcome recognised the significant Turkish Cypriot population. This was the second time we were presented in our travels with an account of Orthodox clergy being in the thick of political manoeuvres when they felt there was a socio-political 'wrong' to be righted, something which our clergy tend to refrain from. We were hoping to find a counterpart of this museum on the Turkish-occupied side to see another side of the story, but no such luck! And I don't think there'd be anywhere much in Cyprus where you could see what the British take on all of this was; I'm not sure they would have been really thrilled about their 'agents' being gunned down in the streets or by this set of photos headed 'British torturers'.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7680.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />This is the copy of the 'Reward' notice posted by the British for the capture of the leader of the EOKA,<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7678.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />and the corresponding poster put out by EOKA for the capture of the British commander.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7679.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><br />The tourist shopping precinct on the Turkish-occupied side of the Old Town immediately conveys that the occupied side of Nicosia is noticeably poorer. On the Greek side it is mainly CBD but on the Turkish side it is mostly urban. After encountering so many elderly Cypriots and retirees from the EU, you can't help noticing that the streets on the Turkish side are full of school age children (even when you'd think they should be at school). <br /><br />We visited only two sites. The Selimiye Mosque was a converted cathedral. It was a huge, beautiful old building that had been stripped of Christian decoration, painted white and had Islamic religious furnishings. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7699.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />The second was a magnificent building called Beuyuk Khan and built in 1571 as an inn for foreign visitors.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7697.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The building in the centre was a small mosque. The bottom storey would originally have been used for shops. Many are now small cafes with tables spilling out into the courtyard and, true to Middle Eastern tradition, filled with men drinking tea or coffee and playing backgammon, though there were quite a few tourists here as well. The top storey had the guests' rooms off the verandah. Now they contain craft shops.<br />Whether in the north or the south of Cyprus, in tourist haunts or local fashion shops, the shopkeepers allow you to browse at your leisure and only come to help when invited to. <br /><br />Huds searched Cyprus for a small bottle of Ouzo and finally found one in Nicosia. Ken and I were not interested in sampling his buy.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7696.jpg" width="300" height="400" /> <br /><br />I joined two free walking tours of Larnaca. The guides of both walks were former refugees from the North and had interesting tales to relate. They showed us the Turkish Cypriot houses in Larnaca where many refugees have been housed, rent free, and are having renovations and upkeep paid for by the government. Most of the residents are elderly. The day I took this photo, the weather had warmed up and many old folk had sat themselves in their doorways to bask in the sunshine.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7714.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />When the border opened, our first guide went back, key in hand, to visit her house in Northern Cyprus. The Turkish lady living in the house welcomed her in the first time but told her to go away the second time. The second guide told of the Cyprus tradition that fathers, often at great expense and personal sacrifice, build and furnish a house for each of their daughters as her dowry. The guide's sister was to be married one week before the 1974 occupation. Her fiancé was killed in the conflict and her family fled. Her sister never got to sleep in her house and the family can't return to even see their homes because the houses are in the buffer zone.<br /><br />We noticed in the Cypriot papers that there are talks at this moment between Turkey and Southern Cyprus and hope that the Green Line may disappear in the near future, but listening to the bitterness and hurt (and we have only heard stories from the south) it will be miraculous if agreement can be reached. <br /><br />There is a large salt lake in Larnaka that attracts migrating birds when there is water in the lake. We were extremely fortunate because the recent rain has broken a drought and put water in the lake, and because the flamingos arrived early this year. Hundreds of flamingos covered the lake gossipping loudly before ducking their heads underwater for a snack. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7461.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />In the summer months high quality salt used to be collected from the lake but the Green Line necessitated the building of an airport at Larnaka and the pollution from the airport, situated beside the lake, has ruined the salt.<br /><br />Both overseas tourists and Cypriot holiday makers go to the High Troodos Mountains to enjoy the snow. The snowscape on the way up was gorgeous. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7648.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7613.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />This is not the skiing season but the mountain was full of families tobogganing, building snowmen, having snowball fights and eating. The traffic was horrible and we had neither suitable clothes for the -1 degree C nor chains for the car for the predicted snow storm, so we took a look and drove back off the mountain while there was no snow or ice on the roads. <br /><br />While in Polis we attended an interdenominational service in a church called 'The Upper Room.' The congregation was extremely welcoming and the minister inspirational. We went back for the mid-week bible study. The church has an outreach to the Filipino women who work as maids to earn the money needed to feed and educate their children back in the Philippines. They sign four year contracts, are paid little and are often treated very poorly. The church has had many converts and delights in giving the women four years of thorough bible teaching so that when they return to their families they can become spiritual leaders in their communities.<br /><br />Ken and I have finished reading two more books which we would highly recommend; 'The Secret Scripture' by Sebastian Barry, which was nominated for the Booker Prize, and 'The Lovely Bones' by Alice Sebol, which was recommended to me over a year ago by our nieces, Shelly and Alisha. <br /><br />Ken and Huds have spent many hours on the computer working on a computer program to settle a mathematical conjecture of Ken's. <br /> <br />To finish, a few things that caught our eye.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7486.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />It doesn't take the amount of effort the diagram suggests.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7709.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Although I was busting this was just a little too exposed.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7684.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The guys attest to the excellence of the Turkish coffee boiled using the hot sand.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7701.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We bought doners rolled by this lady.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7676.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />A sculpture made from glass or perspex.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7672.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />Ken liked this spiral staircase.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7650.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Many people have these ovens in their backyards.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7523.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/cyprus/100_7683.jpg" width="400" height="300" />Ken and Kerryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318357910439831448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1530732636079526913.post-30505376536768678712010-02-06T06:27:00.001+10:002010-02-06T06:27:51.906+10:00Blog 6: JordanBlog 6 Jordan<br /><br />We returned to Petra to do the walk to the tomb of Aaron (brother of Moses). (If you know nothing of the wonders of Petra look it up on Google, or check the last of my blogs from the last trip, and be amazed.)<br /><br />There had been a number of changes to Petra. The most noticeable was the price! Two and half years ago it cost $35 per person for one day but this time it was $55. It will rise to $80 later this year! $20 of the price was a compulsory horse ride from the Tourist Centre to the start of the canyon, a distance of about 400 m. It was an enjoyable ride but....! It might not have stung quite so much if it had been offered at the end of the day when the feet are weary from traipsing around the site and the ride is uphill. Horses and carriages are no longer allowed in the canyon (except to carry the aged and disabled) and, in the past, this was a major source of income for the Bedouin. So our guess is that the government has done a deal with the Bedouins to compensate them for their loss of income. Quite a few tourists were really peeved because they didn't even get the ride as no horses were available when they arrived. <br /><br />Walking the 1.2 km through the very narrow canyon that opens onto this, the 1st century BC Treasury Building carved from the rock by the Nabateans<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7339.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />was not as magical as the first time, but was still awesome.<br /><br />We hired a youth with his donkey to guide us to Aaron's tomb. This track, which takes about six hours return, is little travelled by tourists, with only three or four taking the walk each month. Muslim pilgrims sometimes make the walk and a major festival is celebrated there later in the year.<br /><br /> It was interesting that the Nabatean carvings continued well beyond the major tourist site<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7346.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />and some were inhabited by the Bedouin.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7348.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />After three hours of walking we reached the mosque containing the tomb.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7379.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Originally a monastery occupied this spot but in the 12th century a sultan built the small mosque on the site. The mosque and the tomb were unremarkable<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7368.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />but the Bedouin tea served by the guardian was, the guys said, absolutely delicious and the panoramic view was fantastic.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7359.jpg" width="400" height="112" /><br /><br />On the return walk, Ken suffered exhaustion. This was due, I think, to a very poor sleep the night before courtesy of the cold and the fact that he got too frozen as we walked in the afternoon winds. He was fine, then suddenly began to shiver uncontrollably and so we put him on the donkey for the last kilometre or so. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7384.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />He even paid $5 for the short horse ride uphill. Food and sleep restored him. <br /><br />On the second day at Petra we climbed to the High Place of Sacrifice. In the Old Testament there are many references to where the Israelites, succumbing to the religions of their neighbours, built altars in the High Places. I had supposedly climbed to this high place on the previous trip when I went in late to Petra to photograph the sunset. Climbing the second time, I realised that, in my hurry to reach the summit before the sunset, I had missed one of the turns and made it to a high place: but it was not the high place of sacrifice for I had never seen this altar area<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7396.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />or this purification basin and bowl to catch the sacrificial blood.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7394.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Again the view was worth the walk.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7393.jpg" width="400" height="161" /><br /><br />Ken had particularly wanted to look again at the theatre, Nabatean not Roman, which had been carved out of the hillside!<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7390.jpg" width="400" height="111" /><br /><br />From Petra we went north to Jerash, a well preserved Roman ruin. We watched the very kitsch re-enactment of a chariot race and gladiator fight from a nearby hillock with the other tourists who did not want to pay the extra $20 for a ticket to sit in the hippodrome, but we were allowed to walk into the stadium just after the show and see everyone close up anyway.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7407.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />As in other sites laid low by earthquakes, there were paved colonnades, temples, Roman baths, Turkish homes and Byzantine churches (from later eras) and Roman theatres, but this musical elaboration was hardly customary.<br /><br />Video coming soon.<br /><br />That night we were back in Madaba in the hotel that we stayed in on the first trip. The hotel owner recognised us, as did the proprietor of the Ayola Cafe, where the guys had gone every day last time to buy an espresso coffee (and food) and as did the barber, who recognised Ken's hair but not his face. It took us several days to find the particular pastry shop that had delighted us previously. Not only did the owner seem to recognise us, but this time he was actually friendly.<br /><br />Despite the overcast weather, I wanted to go back to Mt Nebo. On our previous trip I'd imagined how peeved Moses would have been if, after 40 years of desert wandering, he had looked out on what I now saw of the 'Promised Land', which was bone-dry, treeless desert. Having been to Jerash and seen the lovely rolling green hills, I wondered whether, in winter—Jordan's wet season—the Mt Nebo view might be different and worth a 40-year wait. It wasn't.<br /><br />The Israeli's have simply taken too much water from the Jordan (believed to be once 200m wide but now only about eight) and the green is reduced to narrow strips along the sides of the river.<br /><br />Until recently, Madaba was primarily a Christian town with an uninterrupted tradition of Christianity from the 1st century. Now, the Muslim population is greater than the Christian one, but there is still a strong Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic presence in the town. Madaba is renowned for the mosaics recovered from its many 6th century Byzantine churches. The most famous is the one found in St George, a Greek Orthodox Church. It depicts a very early map of the Holy Land showing Jerusalem, Jericho, Nablus, Hebron, the Nile Delta in Egypt and South Lebanon. Only part of the 16 m x 6 m map remains. This is Jerusalem,<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7438.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />and this my favourite part<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7437.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />with a fish turning back once it reaches the salty Dead Sea.<br /><br />The walls of St George are covered with mosaics created by a modern day mosaic maker. I find the imagery in this one interesting.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Jordan/100_7435.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />We chatted for quite a while to a young man called Ra'd in the Tourist Office. He invited us back to his home. He and his wife Hadeel with their two young children were absolutely delightful. They are a Roman Catholic family. After feeding us a small plate of delicious rice with meat and vegies, they took us to Hadeel's mum's house. Their mum happens to be an ex- high school cooking teacher and just happened to have cooked some scrumptious spinach buns and to have on hand bread, humus, sesame seeds with oil and fava beans to accompany it. It was a wild night of food, broken English, broken Arabic, laughter, singing and fun. We were made to promise that when we returned we would come for a proper meal. A difficult promise to make... NOT.<br /><br />Madaba was rainy and cold and we found we were choosing to eat at places that were warm rather than deciding on the price or the quality of their food. Our hotel room was chilly and, along with the other tourists, we spent our evenings in the foyer where it was warmer.<br /><br />The Jordanians are groaning under the rise in living costs. While food is still cheap, nothing else is. Petrol, power and water cost. Public schools aren't good and private schools expensive. The hotel manager's said that his father had a life-saving emergency operation to his leg that cost $25,000 with follow up injections that cost $500 a month and also said that he and his wife waited five years before deciding to have what will be their only child. Ra'd and Hadeel said that because of their finances they would definitely have no more than their two children. Both couples would migrate to Australia, or possibly Canada or the US, if they could.Ken and Kerryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318357910439831448noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1530732636079526913.post-33954014612942975852010-02-06T05:26:00.002+10:002010-02-06T05:41:48.639+10:00Blog 5: DahabWe all loved Dahab. After just two days we decided to extend our stay there and skip Aqaba in Jordan, where we believed the water would be colder, the coral and fish less good and living more expensive. Unlike the other parts of Egypt we had experienced on our past trip, in Dahab there was no constant badgering to buy this or that or to go here or there. We were able to enjoy a very relaxed, laidback holiday.<br /><br />Wonderfully Ken's ear was recovered and he was able swim from the first day. Although the days were lovely, sunny and pleasantly warm the water was a little cold and the guys were only able to stay in for about half an hour. After the first swimming venture Huds used a wetsuit. Ken tried using one, his second hand one is much newer and thicker than Huds, but the suit was too buoyant and he had to work very hard to free dive so he decided to be content with shorter swims. It was great to be able to swim to the coral from the beach. Our favourite spot was Eel Garden (about 200m from our apartment) where the coral was colourful and the fish varied and plentiful. We particularly enjoyed watching the very beautiful lion fish. I loved diving low and looking up at the schools of small fish above me. I'm sure that had King David been a swimmer and near the Red Sea there would be wonderful psalms celebrating the creative genius of God found under the sea. <br /><br />We did go to the world famous Blue Hole. It's like a big deep circular hole of water surrounded by a coral shelf and the shore. Its claim to fame is that it's deep blue water is about 110 metres deep; and at about 55 metres there's a natural arch where experienced divers with advanced training, and preferably using Nitrox, can go through a 25 metre tunnel. You can tell it's for experienced divers as the bodies in the tunnel belong to inexperienced ones who decided to go against all the advice and give it a shot anyway. Being snorkellers, we didn't get to see the arch and we didn't even see the turtle that others encountered. So, happy as we were to see the Blue Hole, we decided one visit was enough since the snorkelling was at least as good near where we stayed, which meant we didn't have the hassle and expense of using 'taxis' (which included workers' pick-up trucks, private vehicles and the occasional genuine taxi).<br /><br />We took a day trip to see The Coloured Canyon<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/coloured.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />and The White Canyon.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/white.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />I was invited into two homes while in Dahab. An Egyptian woman, who had been a history teacher but now has two young children invited me into her apartment. She took me around her apartment pointing to things and getting me to echo their Arabic names.<br /><br />A young 17 year old Bedouin girl also invited me in. She lived in a much more basic home.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/home.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Ken and I returned to her home just before we left to give her family the food we had left over and some clothes. We sat on a thin foam mattress on the floor while Ken enjoyed several cups of Bedouin tea and chatted with the father, I chatted with the daughter and the mother, who had no English, breast fed her baby.<br /><br />There were many mosquitoes in the house in the evenings and while we did not have to worry about Malaria or Dengue Fever we did want to try and keep bites to a minimum. After a night of buzzing and swatting (we did have mosquito nets over our beds, thank goodness) we bought mosquito coils and let one smoke throughout the evening. The next day I woke with a tongue like this<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/tongue.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />and a congested chest. Thinking at first it was a flue I didn't swim that afternoon but when we lit the coil again that evening I realised I had been poisoned by the fumes so from then on we simply had swatting sessions every hour.<br /><br />Dahab has its tourist strip along the waterfront with many dive centres and restaurants. On the beachside the restaurants have their tables and sun lounges. The restaurant kitchens are located on the other side of the esplanade. Our apartment was close to the waterfront but also very close to the Arab quarter. Away from the tourist strip Dahab is a very much an Egyptian town with the characteristic flat roofed, grey brick buildings (cement rendered and painted if money permits) surrounded by high walls and accessed by wooden gates.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/building.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/snazzy.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Some people have toiled to grow trees and shrubs but there is no grass.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/garden.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />There are very few motorbikes or bicycles here. Instead cars and utes are the go. The latter are the most common type of taxi. With the tray at the back there is never a problem with the size or number of bags or with the number of passengers.<br /><br />The streets are wide. The ones in the town proper may have a little tar down the centre but are mostly dusty dirt roads. Where there are footpaths they are of the walk 10 m, step down 30 cm, walk a few steps, step up 30 cm, repeat, repeat, repeat, variety. Since you share the streets with many herds of goats the footpaths are sprinkled with goat droppings.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/poo.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />After walking these pavements we always left our shoes at the door before entering the apartment. Rubbish is another feature of Egyptian streets.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/rubbish.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />There was one small, neatly tied bag of rubbish in the bin above. People either burn their rubbish in the street, put it in the bins so that it can be taken away and burnt in the dessert, put it in large plastic bags and leave in the street where the bags will broken open by goats and the contents devoured (and goats do eat anything - look carefully at the photo below and you will see they are munching on cardboard. We also saw them seeking their nutrition from cement bags), or just drop it where they finish with it.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/cardboard.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Not only goats but sheep and camels are to be found in the streets and alleyways.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/camels.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />One morning we saw a runaway camel hurtling down the main road with the traffic. Shortly afterwards an Arab astride a camel, whip flailing, galloped by in hot pursuit. Minutes later the scene reoccurred with the runaway and the pursuer headed in the opposite direction. 'Very Keystone Cops,' said Ken.<br /><br />The men of Dahab are seen at all times of the day sitting drinking tea and playing board games like backgammon. At night they would sit in the open, cinema style, watching TV. The women are seen in the daytime shopping and dealing with children but are invisible at night time. The children played in the street using scraps from the building site as playthings or playing marbles.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/playing.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />I also saw a game of beach volleyball and a game of knucklebones being played with small, smooth stones. And, of course, there was PlayStation 2 for the boys, youths and young men.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/playstation.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />'Super' is the operative word in 'Supermarket'. Really they are just corner stores, each selling their own particular array of varied goods. Visit enough Supermarkets and you will pretty well get what you would get in our Supermarkets, but a whole lot cheaper, of course. This was the local butchers.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/butcher.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />We played safe and bought frozen meat. The fruit and vegetables, though obviously trucked in from elsewhere, as Dahab is bone dry, were very tasty. I was really pleased because I was able to use my Arabic to find the local bakeries, one that sold freshly baked bread and one with those delicious Egyptian sweets that drip with honey. I'm afraid we frequented both.<br /><br />The tap water comes from a desalination plant and is not fit for drinking. Water is trucked in from Mt Sinai and, like the home ice cream man, men drive the streets tooting their horns delivering water.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/water.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We used this water for tea and coffee and cooking but again, for safety's sake, stuck to bottled water.<br /><br />As I said, Dahab is bone dry, or was until we experienced the first torrential downfall in four years. Dahab did NOT cope. Our phone line had been out since about the fourth day when the builders working nearby cut the lines for the area but when the rain came everything was out - electricity, internet, ATMs, roads. There are no drains in the streets<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/wetstreets.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />and when the water came down from the mountains this area<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/parking.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />went to this<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/wetparking.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The day after the rains was Ken's birthday and Huds was shouting him to breakfast but, where in the days before the waterfront restaurants were competing for our custom, on this morning we had to search for a restaurant that was open, for the others were mopping up water and mud and drying out carpets and cushions.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Dahab/drying.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We heard that two expat diving instructors had their cement roofs fall on them during the night and we met some tourists who had to swap rooms during the night to escape their flooded rooms. So the little rain that came into our hallway and the dribble landing on the end of the Huds bed were small issues compared to what others experienced.<br /><br />During our time in Dahab, on the basis of his exam results Huds decided to take the opportunity to change his Uni preferences. When the offers came out we were all excited to find he had scored a place in Honours Psychology at Flinders Uni. So that is where he'll be headed this year.<br /><br />We were a bit lucky that the road north to Nuweiba re-opened on the Wednesday, the day we had planned to take the ferry from there to Aqaba in Jordan. A Jordanian guy we met advised us not to go on Wednesday because it was the day when Egyptian workers crossed en masse to Jordan, but when it became clear we'd take our chances anyway he suggested we put ourselves right at the door where the buses took people from the departure lounge to the ship so we didn't get overwhelmed. As it turned out that wasn't really an issue as the staff there ushered the foreigners through first.<br /><br />Other things, however, were issues. We'd been told that it was certain there was an 11 a.m. and a 2 p.m. fast ferry, so we turned up at Nuweiba at 9 a.m. after our usual traumata associated with getting up early, only to find that the slow and fast ferries both left at 3 p.m. So we tried to buy our tickets, only to have the US 100 dollar bill that the bank had given us the day before was an old type and the bank wouldn't accept it. We didn't have anything else, were supposed to pay in 'US dollars etc so it was pretty annoying. The ticket staff, who up to now could be described as at best indifferent, suddenly came good and rang the bank and convinced them they should take it, which was a big relief (and surprise).<br /><br />We'd decided to take the small ferry, which for 10 bucks each saved about four hours. Later, we noticed that anyone well-dressed, female or under 16 was taking the small ferry so were that way avoiding the masses of single guys who had filed through customs all day. Incidentally, passport control gets slowed down a lot when the frustrated immigration officer has to fill out most of the cards.<br />We killed six hours with regular visits to the cafe for junk food and drinks, with playing cards, reading or staring out of the heavily guarded gate to see if somehow this time we might happen to get a glance of anything that indicated the ferry had arrived from Jordan. It finally did, around 4 p.m., so we didn't leave until after 5. If there is a next time, we'll book air tickets early from just about anywhere in Egypt to anywhere in Jordan.<br /><br />The ferry trip and the Red Sea were smooth enough. The hardest bit was trying to lug our luggage onto the buses up about five steep stairs at either end of the journey with young staff 'helping' by continually telling us, in Arabic, to hurry up.Ken and Kerryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318357910439831448noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1530732636079526913.post-70930979142786706842010-01-29T06:05:00.002+10:002010-01-29T06:15:12.905+10:00Blog 4: LondonWe are presently having a mental health day in Dahab after suffering one of those less enjoyable sequences of events one has on holidays, a sequence of events one would prefer to forget but which one finds are seared into your memory.<br /><br />Our stay in London began well. We browsed through St Mary's, the church beside Westminster Abbey (the entrance fee to the Abbey was exorbitant) before going off to meet our nephew Cameron, for lunch. Afterwards we took the tube to a little English theatre with the matinee performance of 'Woman in Black', a ghost story. The theatre was built when people were of much smaller stature so Huds was fortunate he had an aisle seat. We had bought the cheapest tickets available thinking we would be able to move forward in interval but the gallery was packed with two school groups, almost exclusively girls. Their jittery attention and terrified screams put the finishing touches to an excellent production.<br /><br />We saw this sign while walking. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/London/100_7175.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />As night fell we bussed out to Gatwick to check in our bags and go to a nearby hotel so that the next morning we could relax as we went to catch our 10:30 am flight to Sharm-el-Sheikh. We were a little nervous, having seen the headlines warning of severe weather conditions, and were pleased to be settled safely into the hotel as we watched the magical transformation of the landscape as the first snow fell. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/London/100_7216-1.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Next morning we woke to the TV news screaming of people being trapped in their cars overnight, children rejoicing to have an extra day off school and Gatwick Airport closed following very heavy overnight snowfall. At the airport we were told our plane was delayed until 12 by which time they hoped to have cleared the runway. By noon all British Airways and Easy Jet flights had been cancelled or their passengers bussed to Heathrow, which had remained open. Our flight was still meant to be going out. However, the rumours circulating were that there was only one snowplough battling to clear the runway (the driver of another had been unable to get into work because of the weather conditions) and that the pilots were running out of flying time. We continued to wait. The Arrivals Hall was cold and so we secured a spot in a restaurant that was slightly warmer, planning to consume very, very slowly the provisions we had bought using some of the compensatory food vouchers we had been given. Adding to the misery of the affair was a very loud, disruptive announcement, running every 15 min, reminding passengers to put their fluids in a clear plastic bag before going through security. As if anyone was going through security. <br /><br />In the middle of the afternoon, realising we were likely to be spending the night at the airport, Ken went to explain that he needed a power point for his sleep apnoea machine and that the air the machine drew needed to be warm. This caused a little flurry of concern but the airport personnel directed him to the airport information staff who promised that we could have the first aid room. This meant we would have one bed, be much warmer and would not have to worry about Ken stopping breathing during the night. Ken checked that the information counter would be manned at whatever time he needed the room and was assured it would be, even if it meant ringing the assigned phone.<br /><br />Ken went to get back the bags we had checked in the night before. There were about 4000 people delayed on Thomson flights alone but they insisted that for security reasons only 9 people at a time could go in with groups going about every half an hour. After Ken's 9 people were organised, their leader, who actually did not know the way to the baggage, told people that to make it faster she didn't want hand bags taken through security. Thus, where there were any pairs with hand bags, one remained, bringing the group down to about 7. When they got downstairs, there were 5 security guards, and to get the bags, they put everyone through more security than normal. Everybody had to take off their shoes and was thoroughly frisked. To make matters worse, they were told that only one member from each group could go through, reducing the group to about 5. Ken said that he could not carry all our bags for three people but they said there were trolleys. Of course, when they got there, one lady didn't have a pound for the trolleys because she'd been forced to leave her bags upstairs. So Ken lent her a pound and later kept her trolley. One of the guys in the group couldn't find his bags so they looked at his boarding pass and told him it was because his Bridgetown flight was supposed to be leaving. He couldn't believe it as he'd been told to go up at 3pm to find out about his flights and they told him his flight was cancelled and he had to pick up his bags. So he rushed out, his only consolation being that he still had a chance of getting out that night. The experience with the bags pretty well sums up what it was like all the time. <br /><br />Ken tried ringing the hotel we had booked in Sharm to say we would not be coming that night but the number did not answer. He e-mailed Hotel club, the booking company we had used to secure the room, asking them to contact the hotel to say we would miss the first night but that we still required the next two nights.<br /><br />Having lined up for approximately an hour to get more meal vouchers we had a slow tea and then Ken went off at about 4.30 pm to find our promised room. No staff, no-one answering the phone. When a relief staff member turned up about 10 minutes later she was pretty horrified to see the unmanned counter and could hardly believe the staff had gone home in the midst of the chaos when, with the snow, there was no guarantee they'd be replaced. She did her best to help Ken and the other stranded passengers seeking assistance, but to top things off discovered that the keys were being held physically by a staff member who couldn't make it into work. Fortunately, one of the airport staff had lined us up to have a rare hotel room, which resolved our situation, but we had to feel sorry for the many other passengers who were looking for blankets and pleading without success to be allowed to spend the night on the departure gate side of security where there was warmth and much more seating. Some people were supplied with foil blankets and we left this scene, somewhat guiltily, along with some of the elderly and a few families. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/London/100_7221.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />We were taken to a very plush hotel. Everyone queued to register. Half the queue was in the hotel lobby and half were standing outside in the snowy cold. Huds and I were shivering on the end of the queue and it looked as though it would take about an hour to process the queue. Dismayed I went to the doors and suggested that the queue do a u-turn so that everyone could get out of the cold. People good naturedly took up the suggestion. <br /><br />We were offered a full buffet meal but, having just eaten, simply indulged in a delicious slice. We went to bed early as we had to catch the bus back at 5:30 am to be there for the first scheduled flight out. Ours was not scheduled until 10:30 am.<br /><br />Back at the airport Ken joined the 4 hr queue to check the bags back in. It was particularly annoying to see the very short queue for the people scheduled that day to fly to Dahab at 10 am. While Ken waited two elderly women from the queue were taken out on stretchers. Apparently the hall had been extremely cold overnight and the fluids announcement ran throughout the night. We had difficulty getting more food vouchers as the staff was loath to give them out. <br /><br />Some people in the check-in started getting very panicky as the time for their flight was fast approaching and they still had a long wait to reach the counter. Eventually they were taken to the front of the queue so they could be fast tracked (their planes actually didn't leave until the afternoon). Finally having checked our bags in we went through security. We kept watching the boards until we discovered the boards were actually wrong. They weren't being updated, despite the fact that plane times were being constantly rescheduled. At about 12 o'clock, an announcement came over the PA saying that all planes had been delayed because of the bad weather and the de-icing of the runways. This is the photo we took at the time of the announcement of the 'bad weather'. <br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/London/100_7230.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Finally, in mid-afternoon, we got the announcement that we were to be bussed to Luton airport to fly out that evening. We had no time to get extra food vouchers. We had to get our bags off the carousel a second time. Being at the back of the group we discovered the carousel had been switched off before our bags had come through. After some minutes, we convinced someone to turn it back on. Huds and I went ahead, trying to find where the group had gone with no one to guide us and Ken waited behind to help a lady whose bags had not appeared at all. Having found the group, we met a man who had gone straight to where people were waiting for the buses, missing the carousel, and he was not allowed to go back through security to get his bags. He was assured that the bags would come.<br /><br />We got onto the two coaches taking us to Luton Airport but there were five people left behind who couldn't get a seat. At Luton we asked for food vouches, having not eaten since 10am, and were told that they had spoken to the cabin staff. We checked in the bags for the third time and whizzed through security to sit and wait once again. Eventually they told us we were waiting for the five people who had not got seats on the coaches. We don't know whether they sent them by taxi or, as we suspect, had had to wait for another coach. On board we discovered that the reason Gatwick had got so few planes out that day was because they had run out of de-icing fluid. <br /><br />We finally boarded about 7 pm. Explaining our lack of vouchers and the assurances given by the staff member at Luton we asked for water. The stewardess said that the situation had been discussed by the cabin crew and they had been directed to only take vouchers, that no free food or drink was to be supplied. With our one remaining 5 pound voucher we were able to purchase one 300ml water each.<br /><br />We arrived at Sharm Airport at about 2pm. Ken went to take out money from the ATM. He got the money but the machine gobbled up his card. Very tired, hungry and upset we taxied to the hotel to find that our room had been given away. When Ken got onto the internet he discovered an e-mail from Hotel World saying that we must ring the hotel to say that we were not coming. This was despite Ken's e-mail telling them we had tried to contact the hotel but that the telephone number they had given us did not work. Since cheap accommodation was impossible to get in Sharm at this peak time we decided to go straight on to Dahab.<br /><br />We are a day early for the apartment we have booked here in Dahab and since their phone is switched off and we can't contact them and no-one seems to have heard of the apartments or recognise the address (there are no street names in Dahab apparently), we have taken an apartment for one night. We had to sweep and mop the floor before we moved in and the sheets look a little suss but it is adequate. And so we are presently having a mental health day in Dahab.Ken and Kerryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318357910439831448noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1530732636079526913.post-60913350704794841282010-01-25T23:51:00.005+10:002010-01-26T04:16:56.297+10:00MalakaThe city of Malaka is so different to the city we visited 13 years ago. It has had a massive face-lift. The old Portuguese and British administrative building still stand impressively in the main square but the river no longer gives off an insufferable pong; Jonka Street is still Junk Street but is now a very tidy Chinese quarter with up market restaurants; and the trishaws remain but are now extraordinarily kitsch, some fitted with fans and radios that blare as the bikes are pedalled past.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7113.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />There are now more museums and some very modern shopping centres. Here are some of the things of interest we found in the shops.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7104.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />A pink and a lime green piano.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7094.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMrJtmvAZH4&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/oMrJtmvAZH4&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Animal rides for children.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7115.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100B7130.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Interesting pets in the pet shop.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7171.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />A new beauty treatment where the fish do the work<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7106.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />A different type of entertainment on the grassed square.<br /><br />There were Australian mangos that cost $8 and a 5 ringgit ($1.50) shop, equivalent of our $2 shops, but where everything was 5 ringgit, including computer padded bags, knives, lever arch folders, shirts, soft toys etc.<br /><br />Ken and I have just finished reading an incredibly interesting book called 'The Lost History of Christianity' by Phillip Jenkins which records the history of the spread of Christianity along the Silk Road from after the resurrection until well into the Middle Ages. It speaks of the large Christian populations that were established throughout Asia, Africa and Euro-Asia. It was therefore interesting to go again to see the temporary tomb of St Francis Xavier, a Catholic missionary from the 1500s. He died in China, his body was moved and buried for nine months in Melaka and then reburied in Goa, India.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7092.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We went to church at Christ Church.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Malaka/100_7112.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />The church was built in 1753 by Dutch Lutherans but was converted to Anglican use under the British. Services are run in English, Malay, Chinese and Tamil. Most of the congregation at the English service were of Chinese or Indian descent. Their delightful minister delivered a very scatty sermon in what was a traditional service complete with altar boys and gowned choristers. We were made to feel very welcome and Ken was invited to join the people from the congregation who were celebrating anniversaries or birthdays in the coming week (Ken's will be in two weeks time) for a special blessing.<br /><br />We went to the torture museum but I walked out. It was too, too horrible. The one interesting fact I took from it concerned chastity belts. We have been led to believe that they were put on women to keep them chaste while their husbands were away for long periods of time. It was pointed out that this was not feasible as the belts would have caused disease and death. In fact, women probably elected to wear the belts on such occasions as overnight travel to protect themselves from rape.<br /><br />Our taxi driver back to KL was a source of interesting facts.<br /><br />• There are quotas for Chinese and Indians for government positions.<br />• There are limited places for Chinese in universities and scholarships are only for Malaysians.<br />• The population used to be 55% Malay but is now 65% Malay, as the Chinese are having fewer babies so that they can fund their education.<br />• Only businesses pay taxes. Chinese businesses are usually monitored. Bean counters sit in their shops all day and count the number of customers. They do not check Malaysian businesses.<br /><br />For our Christmas present, Ken bought us all hotseats for the 13 hour flight to London and for all my AirAsia flights. This meant extra legroom. It was a wonderful present. I have had no hint of a recurring DVT on this trip.Ken and Kerryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318357910439831448noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1530732636079526913.post-62786676146329546762010-01-24T02:22:00.004+10:002010-01-29T05:54:49.603+10:00Blog 2: PenangPenang was fun. Here we were able to do some of the things we love to do in Australia but limit because of the cost. At $1 a game, we fitted in two games of indoor bowling most days. Huds was particularly thrilled because he scored his all time record of 174 and followed it up the following day with a 172.<br /><br />Films were just $2 a seat so we saw 'Sherlock Holmes' (a definite thumbs up), 'Avatar' (enjoyed more by some family members than others) and 'The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus' (enjoyed by all but not fully understood by any.)<br /><br />This is my $5 haircut.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6991.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />We bought trousers and shorts for Huds at very good prices. However,these chocolate coated coffee beans were not so cheap but Huds could not resist buying them.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6886.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />We have been giggling over such bits of Engrish as<br /><br />Wellcome shocks (socks) sneaper (snapper) fork (pork)<br /><br />but this really tickled Huds' funny bone<br /><br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6973.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Our accommodation was in the middle of Chinatown, which was bustling with Chinese Malays. With the abundance of Buddhist and Hindu temples and a good scattering of Christian churches, one sometimes forgot we were in Muslim Malaysia, but the following sign was a reminder: Muslims using female masseurs will be reported.<br /><br />Another notice—For Non-Muslims Only—was found in or alongside free religious books and publications in temples and even the doctor's surgery, and reminded us that proselytising Muslims in Malaysia is illegal.<br /><br />In the street we came upon a game of Chinese Chess.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6891.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />It is played on a 12 x 12 board, with 16 pieces each side, and in the same way as draughts except that:<br /><br />• If a piece can take and doesn't, the opponent then removes that piece from the board.<br />• Once a piece becomes a king, it moves like a bishop on the chessboard, but is also able to change direction when it takes a piece. This means a king can wipe out many pieces in a single turn.<br /><br />Huds was most impressed that some of the public buses have free Wifi.<br /><br />On our first night there, the 27th of December, there was a street procession starting around 7pm and finishing around 11pm. I had listened to the pounding of drums for quite some town but couldn't convince anyone to come with me to look, because the guys were very tired after travelling from Denpasar to KL to Penang. I set off on my own but without my camera, because there were numerous signs at the hotel and in the shops warning of bag-snatchers on motorbikes and the news reported that crime was up 27% in Penang in the last year. The taxi driver had also warned us that the streets weren't very safe at night. Hence there are no pictures of the parade, but it was quite safe. This was a family event and all Penang's Chinese families were out to watch it. There were Chinese dragons, a female high school brass band and young guys carrying flagpoles four storeys high. Periodically they'd balance them on their foreheads or shoulders. If the pole fell, four to six young men in their cohort would run to catch it before it smashed into the crowd.<br /><br />When out walking one afternoon we came across the ferry terminal. Ken, who loves boats, wanted to take the ferry across to the mainland but neither Huds nor I was overly interested. Later, I offered to take Ken on the ferry as his Christmas present. We went early in the morning, leaving Huds to sleep in, and arrived at 7:30 to find that ferries left every 12 minutes and were packed with workers and had the lower deck full of cars and motorbikes. And, it was free. We wondered why the cars would take the ferry across rather than the bridge. A taxi driver had said that it was to save petrol. Since the bridge is many kilometres from the traffic packed city, the toll is the same as the car ferry price and the ferry takes only 20 minutes to cross, we could see that taking the car ferry was indeed a good option.<br /><br />We had to take Huds to see the sights we had seen 13 years ago.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6905.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The Snake Temple, where you are eyeball to eyeball with poisonous snakes before you have even registered that they are close by. Fortunately they are so snoozy they are not dangerous if you are sensible.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6992.jpg" width="600" height="240" /><br /><br />The reclining Buddha, which is just a very large piece of painted cement with beautifully painted toenails. Behind it are walls full of funerary urns dating back to the beginning of the century.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6996.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The famous Penang funicular, which is about to close once the school holidays end because it takes half an hour to reach the top and requires an inordinate amount of money to maintain. It is to be replaced by a 12 minute whizzer.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6989.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />Since all of Malaysia (presently on school holidays) wanted to ride it before the new and probably expensive funicular appears, the wait to go up and the wait to return was extremely long. This is how Ken killed some of the time.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kfZOFJxgJgE&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kfZOFJxgJgE&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />A new sight was the Keh Lok Si Temple.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6933.jpg" width="300" height="400" /><br /><br />Its 120 foot Buddha dominates the skyline. We climbed the 7-storey pagoda but for Huds, it was the 12 sculptures representing the Chinese years and the benches held up by animals which were most exciting.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6943.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6930.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Ken spotted this sign near the pond containing enormous fish.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6959.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />The walk back was through a narrow, covered arcade with souvenir stalls on each side manned by fairly aggressive shopkeepers. But this is what caught our interest.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6971.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />My favourite tourist destination was the Cheong Fatt Tze mansion. He was a merchant trader, a penniless teenager from China who went to Indonesia and built a financial empire on tea and coffee. He expanded to Penang and built this house for his favourite wife (out of 8).<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6877.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />Throughout his wealthy and influential life, he held concurrently nine ministerial positions for the Portuguese (Dutch East India company in Indonesia), English and Chinese. His mansion was a Feng Shui house with 220 windows to bring in the wind, an open courtyard to let in rain and built on a dragon's back that is built with a slightly sloping floor. It had a series of gently sloping gutters in the walls that kept rain moving around the house. A set of slow release drains below the house meant the water drained away very slowly. Cheong Fatt Tze believed we should manage wealth in the same way as he dealt with the water in his house, by letting it flow in, then holding it and dispensing it little by little.<br /><br /><img src="http://i920.photobucket.com/albums/ad46/graysinmotion/Penang/100_6884.jpg" width="400" height="300" /><br /><br />To restore these ceramic motifs decorating the outside veranda, craftsmen were brought from China. The motifs are made from pieces of broken porcelain pots, each filed to fit.<br /><br />Ken's ear was still bothering him. Fortunately there was an ENT very close to our hotel. The doctor discovered a large fungal infection which required six flushes to remove. He gave ear drops but said that he must keep the ear completely dry for 10 days. Ken was most disappointed because this means he will only be able to start swimming on the last day of being at Sharm-el-Sheik. He will get Dahab though.<br /><br />The ENT told him some very interesting stories about the difficulties of providing ordinary people with affordable health care when things are taxed etc.Ken and Kerryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13318357910439831448noreply@blogger.com0