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Eric and I are getting ready for our big trip to Africa in January. We will be in Chad for 5 weeks, then Ethiopia for 2 (the “relaxation” part of the vacation). Eric scours the Internet weekly for information on this remote and rarely-visited country, and does not often find much. But today we found some great images of Chad on this photographers website:

David Evans Images

photo by David Evans

These are just a few examples, I encourage looking at them all, they are quite breathtaking! Most people, when I tell them that we are going to Chad, ask “Why there?!” and I think if I showed them these pictures, they might understand

I am filing away this image for a time when there is more money to spend on travel…

An ancient town in Campania, a region near Naples, Sant’Agata de’ Goti looks like heaven:

My Dad loved Boston when he visited for work, and I share his fondness. With a distinct East Coast feel (in the sense of being very different and much older than California), Boston is different than New York and the suburbs reminded me of D.C…Maybe because of the bare skeleton trees and grey skies.

The weather was gorgeous in its own way despite the lack of sun or blue. Not melancholic, but romantic in its simple drab splendor.

The city of Boston has amazing architecture. I can’t say much more other than point out that the combination of rusty-red brick with oxidized copper accents is breathtaking. Throw in some misty clouds and crunchy autumnal leaves and you have yourself a lovely town.

The houses are next to churches are next to shops...all shoved together but still beautiful individuals.

Remember the book “Make Way For Duckings”? This is their home!

We had a lovely Thanksgiving with Eric’s family, then flew home and went to Santa Cruz to visit mine. The weather was much more California-typical.

Happy Holidays!

I have uploaded most of the Israel/Turkey trip pictures to Flickr, so check out the entire story in images there!

You can find Chris’s pictures on his Facebook page too.

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Point Reyes 11/15/2009

Last weekend we drove north for an hour into the Pt Reyes National Park. It was a crystal clear day, perfect weather with that crisp fall essence but California sunny-blue skies.

Eric asked, as we walked a long the shore just few feet from crashing waves, if this ocean was a familiar and comfortable presence for me, having grown up with Big Sur and Monterey Bay (and the Puget Sound before that), compared to his very distinctly different New England coastline. Interesting question, since I feel a deep love for the ocean but often take it for granted. I don’t visit it or swim in it regularly, don’t participate in water sports (anymore) and only rarely dig my toes into the sand. But when I lived in the middle of a country, far from the ocean, I missed it desperately. Madrid felt dry and claustrophobic without that great expansive infinity stretching into the blurred horizon. That day at the beach however, we were so close to the mighty Pacific and I was barely glancing in its direction.

The more fascinating sight was the detritus that littered our path just out of reach of the waves. Kelp and shells and skeletons of sea creatures. Doomed visitors from a close yet foreign land, marooned on the beach.

Here are some of the best pictures of the day:

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Next Stop: BOSTON, MA

Eric and I are headed to the east coast, his homeland, for Thanksgiving. I am really looking forward to meeting his family and seeing the home where he grew up…the backyard where he scouted for insects and reptiles, the photo albums with baby pictures…lots and lots of juicy stories and memories!

We have spent the last two days in Eilat, the southernmost town in Israel, nestled at the tip of the country on the Red Sea, between Jordan and Egypt. Hot and dry, this is the ultimate beach/vacation town with lots of families and umbrellas on the shores. Snorkeling and scuba diving is big here, and we have done a bit of snorkeling…first with dolphins in a rescue center, and today out in open water. Visibility is good and there are lots of tropical fish here, but also many young divers who are also erratic swimmers, so I stuck to the safety of lounge chairs most of the time.

A few people have asked us why we chose to visit Israel. First of all, it was Chris’ idea and he invited me along,  to visit Engin’s family in Turkey and then to explore Israel. I couldn’t think of a good reason not to come along, since all travel is appealing to me, and especially to a place as tumultuous and ancient as Israel.

But as we come closer to the end of our trip, I am asking myself that same question…why did we come here? Why do we travel in the first place? We heard some people in our hostel one night talking about Americans and how little they travel. Their theory was that we have so many diverse cultural representations in our own country that we don’t need to cross the globe to find different people or landscapes. I guess that’s a good theory, although I have not seen most of the United States myself, so I can’t say that I have even fully experienced the different cultures of my own country.

But is that what travel is all about, observing “the other”? Having a cultural experience that is different and unique from one’s own daily routine involves observing other people in their own milieu, but as a tourist on a two-week vacation, can one really have a genuine experience in another country? Is participation required to really understand and appreciate a different culture? We have done much observing on this trip, but we also tried to find destinations that were significant to the Israeli people, not just tourists. I often find myself eager to discover places that are “off the beaten track”…but if these secret gems were so wonderful, they would be on the track! I feel caught in a trap; a tourist by name but desperately refusing to live up to that name and the stereotypes that are bound to that image.

Enjoying nature’s beauty in a wide variety of environments and climates is a large part of my desire to leave home…as well as meeting new people and seeing how lives are led outside of my own known routine. But being so far from my family and friends always begins to overcome that urge for the unknown, and I start to remember why I love my home, and I long for the comfortable idea of home. Is that the ultimate result of traveling, a heightened appreciation for home? If I travel all over the globe and see amazing things, but still want to return to my own tried-and-true life back at the origin, then travel has accomplished more that I initially intended. A reinforecement.

Today we leave Eilat and head back north to Tel Aviv. Tomorrow we fly home!

Some pictures from the last few days…

Jaffa:

Breakfast at Dr Shakshuka, his ceiling covered in hanging metal kettles:

The Dead Sea:

Hiking in the Ein Gedi Nature Reserve:

From these hiking trails that led us up and into a fertile ravine, we could turn and see the Dead Sea shimmering below. In the bible story of Sodom and Gomorrah, when God allows Lot and his family to leave before he destroys the two cities, he makes Lot promise that no one in his family will turn and look back at their home as they flee. Similar to Orpheus’ folly in the Greek myth, in which he is forbidden to look back at his lover Eurydice as they leave the underworld, Lot’s wife gives in to the temptation to take one last glimpse…and is turned into a pilar of salt. Sodom and Gomorrah were supposedly located near the River Jordan, or the Dead Sea, and each time I turned to look behind me at the great body of water, I imagined turning into a crusty pile of salt myself! We passed a sign on the highway that simply said “Lot’s Wife” with an arrow pointing off into the hills, presumably indicating the legendary spot where she was frozen. Poor thing. It’s hard to resist that voyeuristic urge to take one last look…

After leaving Jerusalem, Chris and I picked up a rental car and headed for the coast…in search of beaches and some relaxation. We arrived in muggy Tel Aviv, which in some ways reminded me of a southern California beach town, and waded in the Mediterranean briefly before meeting up with some of Eric’s friends; Lee who lived in Oakland and her boyfriend Oz, from Israel. They were so helpful, giving us some much needed advice so we could prune our itinerary down to something feasible.

We spent the night in a cute little hostel in Jaffa (Yafo in Hebrew), our first dorm room sleeping situation of the trip. The old port city of Jaffa is just 10 minutes south of Tel Aviv, and from the beach you can see the bright lights of mega-hotels lining the coast in the city to the north, while the sun sets behind the older and wiser stone walls that once welcomed fishermen and visitors from distant lands.

In the morning I made a quick stop at the local flea market, haggled with a man from Uruguay in Spanish (I knew it would  come in handy someday!) and then we ate a delicious traditional Israeli dish for breakfast, Shakshuka, at the aptly named restaurant “Dr. Shakshuka”. The meal consists of 2 eggs cooked over easy with a tomato and pepper sauce, served hot straight from the frying pan with a giant loaf of bread for dipping. The salad that accompanied the meal was not as appealing at 8am, but I am sure it would have been delicious at lunch.

We headed south for the Dead Sea that Monday, descending down from the arid desert some 400 meters below sea level to the shores of the slowly-evaporating and super-salty Dead Sea. A thick haze in the air only barely disguises the hills of Jordan in the distance. Israeli Air Force planes fly overhead, quite low, several times a day back and forth from the training base nearby. We spent the rest of the afternoon down at the rocky beach, confirming the Dead Sea’s ability to turn people into human flotation devices! When you first lift your feet of of the ground, you can’t help but laugh out load as your body loses all control and you float effortlessly in the syrupy water that is actually 30% solid.

More to come later on the second day of our Dead Sea adventure…

People and Places:

Just as I am starting to warm up to this place, it’s time to leave. Jerusalem felt harsh at first, but it helps to stay in one place for three days at least (in general when traveling) in order to find the hidden generosity, kindness and soul. Tourist activities reveal little about the real daily life of a city and its people. Trekking from one holy spot to another left this visitor feeling tired, confused and frustrated at times…but when we left the old walled city and casually wandered into quieter nooks and crannies, we found parks, grass, Burger Bars (?), a thrift store (!), art schools and my people (nice ones).

Made it to the top!

My favorite moment yesterday found us after a longhotsweaty climb to the top of The Mount of Olives. The ground was so slippery that we literally watched a man slide down like a skier just on his sandals! He looked so serious doing it too…sometimes I wonder if there is a no-humor-allowed law here. But my favorite moment actually happened inside the Mosque of the Ascension, a dinky little courtyard (5NIS to enter felt like a real scam) and a tiny room where the rock sits that supposedly was the last spot Jesus stood before rising up to heaven. Ok, nice rock, I was ready to leave after seeing it…and then in walked a man…perhaps the missing member of Ladysmith Black Mambazo…perhaps just a vision manifested by hours of walking uphill in the biblical heat. He was decked out in I<3 Jerusalem gear, from hat to backpack (with an embroidered Rooster to represent St Peter’s denial of Christ). He carried a bright blue tamborine in the shape of the Star of David, and a staff with a cross, ribbons and a maraca attached. Ignoring us he came straight in and stood confidently on the sacred rock and began to pray. His voice echoed throughout the building, deep and throaty and tremulous. He seriously could have been singing backup to Paul Simon. He sang about Jesus and acted as if these two sweaty Americans were just stones in the crumbling wall. His Air Jordans were shiny and his emotion was rich and intoxicating. I would have liked to sing along, but I don’t remember hearing that one in Sunday School…

Oh, and then we met Kojak the Camel:

These people blocked the road for a while, we couldn’t figure out why…

I was a little bit afraid to walk under this installation…dead crow and all:

Today we pick up a rental car and head to Tel Aviv, where we will hopefully relax on the beach and meet up with Eric’s frind Lee who lives here. She has promised some tips on where we can go next week.

Thanks for reading, check out more pictures on Flickr if you so desire (see link below).

Love!

This morning we said goodbye to our friends, the island, Istanbul and Turkey. The clouds over the Mediterranean were breathtaking as we flew to Israel. I got more and more excited as we approached, unsure what the next leg of our journey would hold…the plane ride itself felt like a different world. Has anyone ever been served hummus on a plane before? It was my first time.

A communal taxi-bus took us into the city, perched on a hill and approached from all sides with chaotic traffic. Jerusalem is a pale colored city, but many inhabitants wear black. The contrast is eye-catching. We were dropped off at the Damascus Gate that leads into the Old City,  and loaded with backpacks and anticipation, we crossed into a different world.

We are staying on Via Dolorosa, where pilgrims come from across the globe to follow in the alleged footsteps of Jesus on his journey with the cross. Our hotel is the Austrian Hospice, and my Grandma Kaiser would love the decorations on every free space of wall: Pope pictures! There is even a cathedral in the hospice, our own little church should we care to use it…and in general the accommodations are very nice, clean and safe.

But right outside the front door(s), there is a completely different atmosphere. The hundreds of little shops remind me of the Bazaar in Istanbul and the markets in Morocco or southern Spain…they are supposed to be reminiscent of the ancient markets where people haggled for goods…but today each shop sells the same wares as the next, and the goods are actually not-so-good Dolce and Gabbana knock offs. Or gummy worms (entire shops with pounds and pounds of various gummy candies!). Or fake Converse shoes. Or mini Jesus statues and other religious symbols printed on keychains. My favorite shops are the spice sellers…mounds of golden saffron and the rich aromas of cinnamon and cardamom are intoxicating. One shop owner had constructed a mountain of carefully sculpted spices, a three-foot-tall replica of an Mayan temple!

We walked around the narrow dripping stone streets and finally found some dinner. It’s amazing how tired I can get just from sitting on a plane and in a car all day, doing nothing! But tomorrow we will see the city much more extensively, and I will be back to tell the tales!

Love to everyone, family and friends, at home!

Our home for the next few days is quite magical…an island off the coast of Istanbul, Turkey called Büyükada, the largest of nine tranquil islands known for their quiet and welcome serenity. The only cars on the island are ambulances and a few little trucks for hauling. The primary source of transportation here are horse drawn carriages. Yasemin was not joking when she said tonight, “They fart a lot”. They do.

But the clip clop of horse shoes along small winding streets is so romantic and other-worldly, I can deal with the stinky aspect. Other local fauna I have seen include stray dogs and cats, frogs, donkeys, cows, strange crows and bats. The baby kittens on the docks were too cute, but the men at the harbor looked at me very strangely…why would someone want to take a picture of stray cats?

Most of the houses on the island are very old, and I feel like we are in New Orleans or something, there is a distinct creole/southern feel to the white lattice-work and shutters and pervasive bougainvillea. Apparently there was some political event in the last 50 years involvıng both Turkish and Greek governments sending the Greeks out of Turkey and the Turks out of Greece, but the Greeks were allowed to keep their property here (gee thanks) so many houses were left behind and not sold. These homes stand vacant to this day, for maybe 50 years now.

So we managed to travel by plane, subway, taxi, boat, and horse drawn carriage all in less than 48 hours! I guess the only mode of transportation we are missing is a magic carpet, and this mıight be the best place to find one…

Engin and his wife Yasemin are wonderful hosts. Chris has known Engin since college so they are like family. I feel so lucky to be here to enjoy the beauty of their home and the warmthof their kindness. Their daughter Mina is a sweet 2-year old with a social personality and great sense of humor. Here are some pictures from my room and balcony:

And Mina with her Baba:

Today we relaxed in the pool and hot tub, then enjoyed delicious lunch and walked around the island a bit before sunset. From the top of the island you can see mainland and the other smaller islands in the distance. There is an old monestary across the water on another island that Engin pointed out, it is no longer open but ıs home to one of the oldest libraries in the world.

The children were later tucked into bed and we went down into the center of town to have dinner at a local fish restaurant. Apparently the island is quite crowded during the summer months but it is now winding down to the slow winter season. Engin ordered us authentic Turkish foods, insisting that we try everything, which I did happily. I especially liked the seaweed dish, and a Turkish sushi-like appetizer made with smoked raw fısh over red onion and drenched in lemon juice. Turkish coffee and a sweet birds-nest desert pastery wıth pistachio topping finished off the large meal. The whole time we were eating, a stray kitty was rubbing up against me begging for scraps. Katy, would you have said no to this face?

Tomorrow we journey into the ancient city of Istanbul! For more pıctures you can visit my Flickr account.

(please excuse poor spellıng and typos, I am writing from a Turkish computer with dıfferent characters! ğüöçş etc.)