There were two local (that is, in the US) symposiums set for March: one on spies and targeted assignations and the other involving military writers and Iraq/Afghanistan. The spies were postponed but the military writers’ met as scheduled. And I attended it at Norwich University, the only significant activity in Northfield, Vermont.
It was the 15th Annual William E. Colby Military Writers’ Symposium entitled America at the Crossroads: the Wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Since I had been in both countries last year, I was interested in the military viewpoint. The panel included four author-speakers, colonels all, who had been involved with Forces’ planning and operations, past and present, three from the US and one from the UK. A fifth author-speaker, who endeared himself to the cadets, was a former Staff Sergeant less concerned about theory, and more about practicalities. More of a Hurt Locker type.
Integral in the discussion of the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan was Counterinsurgency (COIN) philosophy . The major participants had been advocates/practitioners of COIN techniques. Admittedly, there is disagreement among the military between preparations for more conventional warfare (“shock and awe”) as opposed to the COIN approach necessary in Iraq-Afghanistan. Problem: can you do both at once?
Where was it I heard that the Army was always fighting one war ago? And several times at this gathering, I heard: while we may have gotten into Iraq stupidly, that doesn't mean we have to get out stupidly!
All the major speakers believed that committing to a withdrawal date is a mistake, that the locals have to feel secure that combat forces will be supportive until a stable political process is in place, however long that takes. Otherwise, it’s a waiting game for the opposition who can move in at the time and date given.
(To some extent, I believe, that’s what happened in Afghanistan after the US’s original efforts. Following the original effort, the US promptly moved out to deal with the ongoing Iraqi conflict, which had precedence in the planners’ minds.)
it seemed clear that an Iraqi solution was not necessarily an Afghan one. But Western involvement was necessary given the Pakistan-Indian situation. Geopolitically, a somewhat stable Afghanistan is a must. Implied were concerns about the central government’s ability (understandable: many Afghans I talked with were doubtful of Karsai and Afghanistan has a long history of local, rather than central, rule.)
I was impressed that several participants had earned doctorates; all were bright, articulate men, military scholars and published authors. One, a retired LtColonel, has written over half a dozen books including several biographies. Another, West Point graduate, PhD and retired Colonel, has several books and the editorship of a military history magazine under his belt (and I do subscribe to Armchair General).
A two day event with few outsiders attending; most nonmilitary attendees seemed to be donors, It was a close knit group. In addition to various presentations and book signings, the participants spent time in classes, meeting with students. Norwich is a military school headed up by a retired Coast Guard admiral although about half of its student body is civilian. The architecture, engineering and nursing schools bring in the nonmilitary element. A good share of the cadets are from Service families and have made a commitment to the Forces upon graduation. As a result, they benefit from financial aid for attendance at Norwich is not cheap.
The university is located on the outskirts of Northfield, a New England village that is centered around a cross road maybe a mile from the school. “Town” consists of several cafes, a bank, a library, a church with numerous white frame farm houses scattered about. I stayed in one of these, morphed into a comfortable Bed/Breakfast across from Norwich. With snow on the ground, very picturesque New England. Sunny days though a bit “fresh” as the Brits say.
I found myself in a different culture, both in terms of being in New England and the exposure to the military. I’m glad I went and given another stimulating topic, I may return next year.
And yes, Jet Blue turned out to be an excellent airline not only comfortable and reasonably priced but with staff that was courteous and helpful. The shuttle service was prompt and reliable. However, at Burlington Airport, I had the most thorough body search I’ve ever experienced, just one step from a strip search. And I’ve been searched in many venues and countries over the past years.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
January 2010: Twenty Days in the Antarctric!
It was the best of trips, it was the worst of trips!
The cruise itself was a good as they get - I say this as a land lubber. This was my tenth boat trip and I would rather be ashore any day. I’ve traveled on the Rhine, Yangtze and Volga rivers, spent a week on a a Maine Windjammer, was overnight on a Stockholm-Helsinki ferry, spent time coming and going with a bunch of drunken Swedes on a Stockholm-St Petersburg Baltic cruise, did the Norwegian Coastal trip over the Arctic Circle one Christmas, and then there were several cruises in and about Washington-Vancouver Island -Island Passage. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed them, but I do get restless.
This Quark expedition was aboard the 110 passenger Lyubov Orlova, a retrofitted Russian ship, which was very comfortable. Since the cruise was entitled, Explorers’ Route, time was spent learning about various Antarctic expeditions. The itinerary included a number of trips ashore, limited only by the weather conditions.
The accommodations were comfortable, more so than most of the vessels I’ve been on. The food was great, too much so. My roommate was a joy. Staff was outstanding, both the Russian crew and the Quark staff. There were ongoing presentations about the flora, fauna, geology, birds, seals, whales and history of the region. And several good movies in the evening: I finally saw The Queen with Helen Mirran. and an excellent documentary on Ernest Shackleton, the Antarctic explorer who didn’t succeed in reaching his goal, but did succeed in saving his men. .
Everyone aboard had a camera and some, two. Several were professional photographers.
There were a plethora of birders who were snapping shots of various sizes and kinds of the winged set. Binoculars abounded. There were many opportunities to view the wildlife - up close and personal! And the passengers were from all over: US. UK, Portugal, Japan, China, New Zealand, Australia, Germany, Russia, Israel - you name it.
My main interest was in the history and politics of the area though I did marvel at the diversity of wildlife. The stops at Stanley in the Falklands and Grytviken in South Georgia - where Shackleton is buried - were of most interest to me. I had West’s book on the Falklands war with me and had read both Asher and Geraghty on the SAS’ difficulties there plus Keegan on Intelligence mishaps.
Stanley was as English as Victoria BC, which outdoes the homeland. There was a small museum with momentos from the Falklands War. Also bullet holes in buildings were among the left overs. Grytviken was full of rusted, beached ships from the whaling era along with the wreckage of the Argentine submarine, Santa Fe (ex-US Starfish) which couldn’t be scuttled by the Brits for legal technicalities in the undeclared conflict with Argentina.
One of the staff aboard the Orlova was a real gem: a diver, naturalist and historian who had been in South Georgia during the Falklands War and aboard The Explorer, the GAP ship that sunk in the Antarctic several years ago. He had been around the area for at least twenty years; I found him extraordinarily interesting. But all the staff, with their varied backgrounds, were impressively knowledgeable.
My favorite time were the rides in the zodiacs. Sometimes, paced by whales. Often wet and occasionally, a bit hairy, the rides provided a change from the ship’s routine. When near land, there were usually two trips ashore per day where the penguins, seals and birds held forth for their audience of photographers. I did find my snow walking ability had gone down the tubes: the effort to climb up to a volcano with rubber boots was spectacularly unsuccessful. I was down more than up.
I was able to move about some aboard ship. There was an exercie bike and some weights in a room with space enough to stretch out. The deck railings were at such a height I could use them for an abbreviated ballet barre albeit a bit “fresh”outside as the Brits would say.
I had enough time in Ushuaia to visit their local museum, housed in an old time penitentiary. It was quite unique and included several art galleries as well as material on sea and ships. One block was left in the orginal condition while another block had material posted about the facility and former prisoners.
So the tour itself was a real plus. And I would recommend it!
But then there was the Santiago Aeroporto and the delay at LAX!
In twenty five years of traveling, I have never had such trouble as I had connecting flights in Santiago. both coming and going. Great confusion when I arrived at the International section as to where I was to go to connect with my Ushuaia (Argentina) flight and no system for connecting flights - you go through immigration and passport and security and pay $131 (as the US now charges $131 for Chileans to obtain a visa) and are left adrift. I missed my twice weekly flight to Ushuaia.
I was flying LAN Air, code share with American Airlines. Initially, LAN people assumed no responsibility for my plight, since AA had booked the flight. However, after AA was absent at the airport and incapable of assisting via phone and the Quark emergency number was non responsive, LAN kindly put me on their overbooked flight to Buenos Aires where there was an early AM flight to Ushuaia which allowed me more than enough time to make the boat.
Returning was just as bad, though I didn’t miss the flight. There was the same confusion in finding where I was to be to catch my LAN flight to the US. Again, through immigration and the like - during that procedure, I lost a sack with my medical records. trip notes and gifts and was not allowed to go back to pick it up though a bit later, the LAN representative arranged for look-see with negative results. At the Gate, I was informed I needed to pay $30 to bail myself out and as I left the Gate, my nicely packaged bottles per TSA, were confiscated, with the sniffer dog following me to the aircraft door.
The final frosting: I was held up several hours at LAX as there was a fog overlay at SFO, including an hour on the tarmac!
Ok, the tab: the twenty day Quark trip, booked through Adventure Center, cost $9075 for a double room but note that I had a $5000 discount. Airfare cost $1641. and I did pay an extra $84 for CO2 offset. That was it other than Airport fees in Santiago and Buenos Aires (Buenos Aires charges $100 per American as we now charge their citizens that amount for visas).
The next jaunt is in 10 days or so, out of San Jose via Jet Blue to Vermont - I’ll report back on that one.
The cruise itself was a good as they get - I say this as a land lubber. This was my tenth boat trip and I would rather be ashore any day. I’ve traveled on the Rhine, Yangtze and Volga rivers, spent a week on a a Maine Windjammer, was overnight on a Stockholm-Helsinki ferry, spent time coming and going with a bunch of drunken Swedes on a Stockholm-St Petersburg Baltic cruise, did the Norwegian Coastal trip over the Arctic Circle one Christmas, and then there were several cruises in and about Washington-Vancouver Island -Island Passage. It’s not that I haven’t enjoyed them, but I do get restless.
This Quark expedition was aboard the 110 passenger Lyubov Orlova, a retrofitted Russian ship, which was very comfortable. Since the cruise was entitled, Explorers’ Route, time was spent learning about various Antarctic expeditions. The itinerary included a number of trips ashore, limited only by the weather conditions.
The accommodations were comfortable, more so than most of the vessels I’ve been on. The food was great, too much so. My roommate was a joy. Staff was outstanding, both the Russian crew and the Quark staff. There were ongoing presentations about the flora, fauna, geology, birds, seals, whales and history of the region. And several good movies in the evening: I finally saw The Queen with Helen Mirran. and an excellent documentary on Ernest Shackleton, the Antarctic explorer who didn’t succeed in reaching his goal, but did succeed in saving his men. .
Everyone aboard had a camera and some, two. Several were professional photographers.
There were a plethora of birders who were snapping shots of various sizes and kinds of the winged set. Binoculars abounded. There were many opportunities to view the wildlife - up close and personal! And the passengers were from all over: US. UK, Portugal, Japan, China, New Zealand, Australia, Germany, Russia, Israel - you name it.
My main interest was in the history and politics of the area though I did marvel at the diversity of wildlife. The stops at Stanley in the Falklands and Grytviken in South Georgia - where Shackleton is buried - were of most interest to me. I had West’s book on the Falklands war with me and had read both Asher and Geraghty on the SAS’ difficulties there plus Keegan on Intelligence mishaps.
Stanley was as English as Victoria BC, which outdoes the homeland. There was a small museum with momentos from the Falklands War. Also bullet holes in buildings were among the left overs. Grytviken was full of rusted, beached ships from the whaling era along with the wreckage of the Argentine submarine, Santa Fe (ex-US Starfish) which couldn’t be scuttled by the Brits for legal technicalities in the undeclared conflict with Argentina.
One of the staff aboard the Orlova was a real gem: a diver, naturalist and historian who had been in South Georgia during the Falklands War and aboard The Explorer, the GAP ship that sunk in the Antarctic several years ago. He had been around the area for at least twenty years; I found him extraordinarily interesting. But all the staff, with their varied backgrounds, were impressively knowledgeable.
My favorite time were the rides in the zodiacs. Sometimes, paced by whales. Often wet and occasionally, a bit hairy, the rides provided a change from the ship’s routine. When near land, there were usually two trips ashore per day where the penguins, seals and birds held forth for their audience of photographers. I did find my snow walking ability had gone down the tubes: the effort to climb up to a volcano with rubber boots was spectacularly unsuccessful. I was down more than up.
I was able to move about some aboard ship. There was an exercie bike and some weights in a room with space enough to stretch out. The deck railings were at such a height I could use them for an abbreviated ballet barre albeit a bit “fresh”outside as the Brits would say.
I had enough time in Ushuaia to visit their local museum, housed in an old time penitentiary. It was quite unique and included several art galleries as well as material on sea and ships. One block was left in the orginal condition while another block had material posted about the facility and former prisoners.
So the tour itself was a real plus. And I would recommend it!
But then there was the Santiago Aeroporto and the delay at LAX!
In twenty five years of traveling, I have never had such trouble as I had connecting flights in Santiago. both coming and going. Great confusion when I arrived at the International section as to where I was to go to connect with my Ushuaia (Argentina) flight and no system for connecting flights - you go through immigration and passport and security and pay $131 (as the US now charges $131 for Chileans to obtain a visa) and are left adrift. I missed my twice weekly flight to Ushuaia.
I was flying LAN Air, code share with American Airlines. Initially, LAN people assumed no responsibility for my plight, since AA had booked the flight. However, after AA was absent at the airport and incapable of assisting via phone and the Quark emergency number was non responsive, LAN kindly put me on their overbooked flight to Buenos Aires where there was an early AM flight to Ushuaia which allowed me more than enough time to make the boat.
Returning was just as bad, though I didn’t miss the flight. There was the same confusion in finding where I was to be to catch my LAN flight to the US. Again, through immigration and the like - during that procedure, I lost a sack with my medical records. trip notes and gifts and was not allowed to go back to pick it up though a bit later, the LAN representative arranged for look-see with negative results. At the Gate, I was informed I needed to pay $30 to bail myself out and as I left the Gate, my nicely packaged bottles per TSA, were confiscated, with the sniffer dog following me to the aircraft door.
The final frosting: I was held up several hours at LAX as there was a fog overlay at SFO, including an hour on the tarmac!
Ok, the tab: the twenty day Quark trip, booked through Adventure Center, cost $9075 for a double room but note that I had a $5000 discount. Airfare cost $1641. and I did pay an extra $84 for CO2 offset. That was it other than Airport fees in Santiago and Buenos Aires (Buenos Aires charges $100 per American as we now charge their citizens that amount for visas).
The next jaunt is in 10 days or so, out of San Jose via Jet Blue to Vermont - I’ll report back on that one.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
A Decade of Memories
I was asked about the happenings of the past decade by hosts of an online travel group; this was my response:
The past ten years saw serious changes in my life - and
greatly increased traveling. While my husband and I
traveled several times a year - his last trips were to Tibet
and the UK - I increased both the amount of the traveling
and the scope of the trips after I became a single six years
ago. The mobile (a misnomer if I've ever met one) home was
sold, I moved into a triplex and have been on the road ever
since. I've now been in 70+ countries over five continents
and will make that seven continents by February.
I had always wanted to travel but marriage had taken me down
a different path until I convinced my husband to travel
some twenty-five years ago. He had figured that WW2 travel
with US Navy was enough for a lifetime. When faced with an
ultimatum, he decided to tag along. We did gentle travel at
first, nothing to scare the horses. But he ended up willing
to try Egypt, Morocco, India, China, Thailand and Japan
mixed in with an annual trip to the UK.
Since I've been on my own, I have traveled as far out of the
box as seems safe. The Middle East - I've missed out on
Saudi Arabia so far - fascinates me. North Africa? Libya
is still a problem to visit but it looks like I'll make it
to Algeria this year. Asia and Himalayan region are
another of my interests. And then there's Eastern Europe
and the Baltic states; been in some but not all. With luck,
I'll get to North Korea in Sept.
I have a friend who signs on to visit any country listed by
the State Department as a problem - I'm bad but not that
bad, thank you. I'll leave Somalia alone. But I have been
to Iran, Iraq, Yemen, Mali, Afghanistan (twice) and Pakistan
in recent years. And with no problems - just take
reasonable precautions so that I don't become part of the
problem. The plan? To continue checking out the World, so
long as health and money hold out.
So,keep traveling, all! And a Happy New Year!
The past ten years saw serious changes in my life - and
greatly increased traveling. While my husband and I
traveled several times a year - his last trips were to Tibet
and the UK - I increased both the amount of the traveling
and the scope of the trips after I became a single six years
ago. The mobile (a misnomer if I've ever met one) home was
sold, I moved into a triplex and have been on the road ever
since. I've now been in 70+ countries over five continents
and will make that seven continents by February.
I had always wanted to travel but marriage had taken me down
a different path until I convinced my husband to travel
some twenty-five years ago. He had figured that WW2 travel
with US Navy was enough for a lifetime. When faced with an
ultimatum, he decided to tag along. We did gentle travel at
first, nothing to scare the horses. But he ended up willing
to try Egypt, Morocco, India, China, Thailand and Japan
mixed in with an annual trip to the UK.
Since I've been on my own, I have traveled as far out of the
box as seems safe. The Middle East - I've missed out on
Saudi Arabia so far - fascinates me. North Africa? Libya
is still a problem to visit but it looks like I'll make it
to Algeria this year. Asia and Himalayan region are
another of my interests. And then there's Eastern Europe
and the Baltic states; been in some but not all. With luck,
I'll get to North Korea in Sept.
I have a friend who signs on to visit any country listed by
the State Department as a problem - I'm bad but not that
bad, thank you. I'll leave Somalia alone. But I have been
to Iran, Iraq, Yemen, Mali, Afghanistan (twice) and Pakistan
in recent years. And with no problems - just take
reasonable precautions so that I don't become part of the
problem. The plan? To continue checking out the World, so
long as health and money hold out.
So,keep traveling, all! And a Happy New Year!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Middle East Chronicles Part 2 - December 2009
King Hussein/Allenby Bridge and Beyond
To the Jordanians, it is King Hussein Bridge; the Israelis call it
Allenby Bridge. Either way, it is an historic entrance into
Israel-Palestine. I was alerted both by one of my GARP companions as
well as the tour people, Global Exchange, there could be complications
with the visa. The Israelis were now issuing three kinds of visas:
one to the West Bank, one for the Israeli portion and one encompassing
both. Also, per Lonely Planet, if you looked undesirable, there would
be questions about the purpose of the visit and a request for evidence
of a return ticket .
I do have a second passport so wasn’t concerned about the passport
stamping but my companion was: he was an Australian researching the
Australian Horse activities during World War I and had a note from the
Israeli Ambassador to Australia, requesting Passport Control not to
stamp his passport as he is in and out of Middle Eastern countries
while working on this project. This really confused the young Israeli
officer and led to following exchange: “Why are you here? “To do
historical research about World War I”? “What was that?” “The war
before World War 2.” What was that?” and so on. She finally let him
pass.
My turn: Do I want my passport stamped? No problem! Why was I here?
To visit as part of my interest in the Middle East. That seemed to
flummox her; so at a nudge from my traveling partner, added I was a
tourist. Did I have a return ticket? Yes, and then showed her my
E-ticket which she gazed over, then returned my passport, sans any
stamp. An eighty year old, five foot three inch, gray haired traveler
must have really looked truly undesirable to her.
I assume I did obtain the all necessary permissions for I traveled in
all the sectors though no one asked for the visa stamp at the numerous
check points - and I went through more checkpoints and saw more
weapons than in either Iraq or Afghanistan. And Xe (aka Blackwater)
must have a huge contract with the Israelis for many of the Security
police were theirs.
I was one of a small group traveling under the auspices of Realty
Tours, which sets up educational trips for Global Exchange members. I
had first traveled with them over a year ago to Kabul and had been
impressed by the opportunities to meet with various NGO staff, trying
to provide services and provide some kind of peaceful solution to the
country's’ problems. It had given an insight beyond what one would
normally obtain, looking at one ruin or another.
There were two free days before the tour formally began, two days to do
the usual touristy sightseeing. I was at the Gloria Hotel, just inside
the Jaffa Gate in the Old City. Another group member had also arrived
early, so we paired up for some of the time. He wanted to go to
Bethlehem so we signed on for a half day tour. The two of us were the
tour.
A cab came to pick us up with a Christian Palestinian driver and a
Jerusalem license plate: all of this is important for one’s passport
and permit depends on ethnicity, residence and religion which then
determines your ability to travel within the area. We were taken to a
check/transfer point. He dropped us off there, to go through the wall
- and yes, there is a wall to out-wall Berlin any day! - and a caged
barred area. Once through. we met another taxi driver who took us to
Bethlehem where we did sightseeing with our guide, a Palestinian woman
with a Brazilian passport (she and her family had lived there for
thirteen years before they could return, but still no local passport)
and a permit to live in Bethlehem (but still couldn’t go into the West
Bank/East Jerusalem much less Israeli territory).
Though out the various venues, there were many devote believers. I was
most interested in the varied appearance of the visitors. A Cameroon
choir came with their own priest - the singing was lovely; I wished I
had a tape recorder. Most were obviously moved by being in, what was to
them, the most Holy of places. The several modern additions to
ancient buildings showed great sensitivity by the architects involved.
That afternoon, we hired our driver to take us to Ramallah and to view
some of the settlements. Had lunch in a street cafe and saw the
wonderfully designed Arafat memorial/tomb. Also found out that the
“settlements” are large condomium units, set up on hills often
containing aquifers for the area, taken by the Israelis who use 80%
and sell 20% back to the Palestinians. Settlements are throughout the
Palestinian areas, as if the Israelis are setting their stamp on the
land, making it impossible for the Palestinians to have contiguous
territories..
Spent the next day wandering around the colorful Old City, with a
break for lunch at the King David Hotel, part of my tracing the
British presence in Jerusalem after the Balfour Agreement and the
Mandate. This was the hotel blown up by the Jewish Irgun in 1946,
killing 91; giving truth to the phrase, one man’s terrorist is
another man’s patriot. Old photos line the hallways of this now 5-star
establishment, bringing memories of another time. I also walked up to the
elegant American Colony Hotel in East Jerusalem where TE Lawrence had
stayed, reportedly meeting with his infamous biographer, Lowell Thomas.
They too had a excellent selection of old photos of bygone times,
And on to the tour, which was an investigation of Prospects for Peace
and Justice. In nine days of travel and interviews with at least
twenty-two Israelis, Bedouins, and Palestinians (both Christian and
Moslem), I found a lot of hard working, sincere and devoted
individuals. We met with many human rights representatives, former
soldiers, members of bereaved families, students and administrators at
Bir Zeit University, various women’s groups, a prisoner’s right
organization, an Israeli demographer, non violent resistance groups,
educators, and media people.
We stayed both in Jerusalem and in East Jerusalem (at St George’s
Guest House, across from the American consulate) but traveled to the
Dheisheh and Jenin Refugee camps; stayed overnight at the Ibdaa
Cultural Center at Dheisheh with triple bunk beds and no hot water.
And like “settlements”, “camps” are a misnomer - they are small,
crowded, slum like ghettoized apartments, in an urban area, not the
tented communities I had pictured from CARE’s photos of African refugee
camps.
Near Bethlehem in Beit Sahour, we spent a night with a local family.
Mine was a school administrator-teacher with a son in high school, two
daughters married (one still in Bethel and the other overseas) and his
former teacher-wife, now operating a travel business.
Palestinian-Christian, there were photos of himself with Arafat in his
living room; he said he was no longer active - it was too dangerous for
he would be at risk from the Palestinians. I watched the CD of the
Christening party of his granddaughter, which was obviously a Big
Event in their lives.
At Janin, I was most impressed by The Freedom Theatre’s work with the
children, a pre professional program both in media and stage. We were
shown around by an International (overseas volunteers are termed
Internationals in this country which must label and categorize you!)
who had taken a troupe overseas recently to perform. They had modern
equipment and what I saw of a dramatic production, was impressive.
We spent time in Hebron where I was able to enter the Ibrahimi Mosque,
now shared with a synagogue. There were soldiers and checkpoints
throughout the town. Israeli settlers had residences above the local
souk. Barbed wire had been strung above the walk way for the settlers
threw down various garbage on the locals walking and shopping below.
Time was spent at the local [pre-school where several of our group made
their day with balloon creations for the kids - and teachers who took
some for their own children.
Toward the end of the tour, we went north to Jayyous and Mas’ha, to see
the effects of the ever present wall, which has affected the economy
and society of this agrarian community. I observed an instance where
a farmer with horse and cart had to clear though a virtual wall
(electrified fencing along two sides of a cleared “road”)r through an
opening staffed by two armed soldiers to get to his fields. Others
have just left fields untended rather than deal with the soldiers’ and
the sometimes unpredictable hours.
I was in the Negev one day, where an Israeli-Bedouin organization was
working with the semi-nomads to help them establish recognized villages
which meant they could have water and electricity and find a means of
economic lsupport. The last day was spent in Jaffa, the picturesque
former Palestinian port, which has been overwhelmed by Tel Aviv.
Near where we stayed in East Jerusalem, a family had been evicted by the Israeli government so settlers could be moved in. Part of the home had already been destroyed. The Arab owner had gone to Turkey to search Ottoman records for the title. In the meantime, Israeli Police stood by, family members camped out, activists and media made themselves known. I witnessed the sad scene one afternoon as we drove by.
I did talk with a thirteen year resident of Jerusalem, who was
surprised that we were not able to get into one a settlements for a
scheduled interview. Wrong entrance we were told at the checkpoint; we
needed to drive half an hour away, for the “right” entrance for our
minibus. This resident seemed concerned that I was influenced by
presence/absence of Jewish participants and/or the presence of a
Palestine guide. She pointed out that during the last Intifada, she
had had to draw her shades at night for fear of being targeted. She
simply did not go into East Jerusalem.
Leaving was memorable: three of us were on the sherut (shared taxi) to
the airport. The next person to be picked was tardy but finally
appeared after ten or so minutes: a sixtish black hatted, fully bearded
Orthodox (Hasidic?) Jew, escorted to the vehicle by four dancing,
singing younger versions of himself . Though we collected several more
passengers, none exhibited such panaché.
Getting through the airport and security and onto the aircraft was less difficult than entering over the Bridge. Initially told I was way too early and would have to wait several hours before going through Security - which I like to clear ASAP and particularly, as I was warned of probable complications in exiting Ben Gurion - I was finally directed over to the entryway to the gates. Clutching E-Ticket and passport in hand, assuring one and all, I had no luggage other than my backpack, I was cleared quite routinely, assigned a “2” status (it’s a 1 to 8 scale with 8 being assigned to very suspicious characters!) and sent on my way. No serious search and few questions. No problem!
Reactions: I did not visit Haifa or Tel Aviv nor did I get to the
Golan Heights and Gaza. We did spend time in Palestinian areas and
Jerusalem, which is a small sample to draw from. Overall, I felt that
the Jews, so long oppressed, had become the oppressor. Palestine was
but a suzerainty of Israel.
I had thought matters would be bad but not so bad that there is not
only apartheid, but an apartheid that includes separate roads into
various areas, for separate peoples. Areas are labeled A, B, and C
which determines the right of passage and who is in charge.
Checkpoints galore.
People on both sides of the wall are deeply concerned about human
rights and peacemaking but that doesn’t appear to influence the
leaders’ actions. Talk, yes! Behavior, no! I suspect there is enough
blame around to share so both Palestinians and Israelis could to move
on rather than try to out rationalize and out manipulate each other.
One-state or two-state solution, neither will be meaningful unless the
politicos are serious about a solution.
I returned home depressed: another intifada would not surprise me.
Costs: The Global Exchange fee was about $2200 for accommodation and two
meals a day. I paid $180 for my two additional nights in Jerusalem.
Airfare: BA SFO-Heathrow-Amman; Tel Aviv-Heathrow-SFO: $1491.
To the Jordanians, it is King Hussein Bridge; the Israelis call it
Allenby Bridge. Either way, it is an historic entrance into
Israel-Palestine. I was alerted both by one of my GARP companions as
well as the tour people, Global Exchange, there could be complications
with the visa. The Israelis were now issuing three kinds of visas:
one to the West Bank, one for the Israeli portion and one encompassing
both. Also, per Lonely Planet, if you looked undesirable, there would
be questions about the purpose of the visit and a request for evidence
of a return ticket .
I do have a second passport so wasn’t concerned about the passport
stamping but my companion was: he was an Australian researching the
Australian Horse activities during World War I and had a note from the
Israeli Ambassador to Australia, requesting Passport Control not to
stamp his passport as he is in and out of Middle Eastern countries
while working on this project. This really confused the young Israeli
officer and led to following exchange: “Why are you here? “To do
historical research about World War I”? “What was that?” “The war
before World War 2.” What was that?” and so on. She finally let him
pass.
My turn: Do I want my passport stamped? No problem! Why was I here?
To visit as part of my interest in the Middle East. That seemed to
flummox her; so at a nudge from my traveling partner, added I was a
tourist. Did I have a return ticket? Yes, and then showed her my
E-ticket which she gazed over, then returned my passport, sans any
stamp. An eighty year old, five foot three inch, gray haired traveler
must have really looked truly undesirable to her.
I assume I did obtain the all necessary permissions for I traveled in
all the sectors though no one asked for the visa stamp at the numerous
check points - and I went through more checkpoints and saw more
weapons than in either Iraq or Afghanistan. And Xe (aka Blackwater)
must have a huge contract with the Israelis for many of the Security
police were theirs.
I was one of a small group traveling under the auspices of Realty
Tours, which sets up educational trips for Global Exchange members. I
had first traveled with them over a year ago to Kabul and had been
impressed by the opportunities to meet with various NGO staff, trying
to provide services and provide some kind of peaceful solution to the
country's’ problems. It had given an insight beyond what one would
normally obtain, looking at one ruin or another.
There were two free days before the tour formally began, two days to do
the usual touristy sightseeing. I was at the Gloria Hotel, just inside
the Jaffa Gate in the Old City. Another group member had also arrived
early, so we paired up for some of the time. He wanted to go to
Bethlehem so we signed on for a half day tour. The two of us were the
tour.
A cab came to pick us up with a Christian Palestinian driver and a
Jerusalem license plate: all of this is important for one’s passport
and permit depends on ethnicity, residence and religion which then
determines your ability to travel within the area. We were taken to a
check/transfer point. He dropped us off there, to go through the wall
- and yes, there is a wall to out-wall Berlin any day! - and a caged
barred area. Once through. we met another taxi driver who took us to
Bethlehem where we did sightseeing with our guide, a Palestinian woman
with a Brazilian passport (she and her family had lived there for
thirteen years before they could return, but still no local passport)
and a permit to live in Bethlehem (but still couldn’t go into the West
Bank/East Jerusalem much less Israeli territory).
Though out the various venues, there were many devote believers. I was
most interested in the varied appearance of the visitors. A Cameroon
choir came with their own priest - the singing was lovely; I wished I
had a tape recorder. Most were obviously moved by being in, what was to
them, the most Holy of places. The several modern additions to
ancient buildings showed great sensitivity by the architects involved.
That afternoon, we hired our driver to take us to Ramallah and to view
some of the settlements. Had lunch in a street cafe and saw the
wonderfully designed Arafat memorial/tomb. Also found out that the
“settlements” are large condomium units, set up on hills often
containing aquifers for the area, taken by the Israelis who use 80%
and sell 20% back to the Palestinians. Settlements are throughout the
Palestinian areas, as if the Israelis are setting their stamp on the
land, making it impossible for the Palestinians to have contiguous
territories..
Spent the next day wandering around the colorful Old City, with a
break for lunch at the King David Hotel, part of my tracing the
British presence in Jerusalem after the Balfour Agreement and the
Mandate. This was the hotel blown up by the Jewish Irgun in 1946,
killing 91; giving truth to the phrase, one man’s terrorist is
another man’s patriot. Old photos line the hallways of this now 5-star
establishment, bringing memories of another time. I also walked up to the
elegant American Colony Hotel in East Jerusalem where TE Lawrence had
stayed, reportedly meeting with his infamous biographer, Lowell Thomas.
They too had a excellent selection of old photos of bygone times,
And on to the tour, which was an investigation of Prospects for Peace
and Justice. In nine days of travel and interviews with at least
twenty-two Israelis, Bedouins, and Palestinians (both Christian and
Moslem), I found a lot of hard working, sincere and devoted
individuals. We met with many human rights representatives, former
soldiers, members of bereaved families, students and administrators at
Bir Zeit University, various women’s groups, a prisoner’s right
organization, an Israeli demographer, non violent resistance groups,
educators, and media people.
We stayed both in Jerusalem and in East Jerusalem (at St George’s
Guest House, across from the American consulate) but traveled to the
Dheisheh and Jenin Refugee camps; stayed overnight at the Ibdaa
Cultural Center at Dheisheh with triple bunk beds and no hot water.
And like “settlements”, “camps” are a misnomer - they are small,
crowded, slum like ghettoized apartments, in an urban area, not the
tented communities I had pictured from CARE’s photos of African refugee
camps.
Near Bethlehem in Beit Sahour, we spent a night with a local family.
Mine was a school administrator-teacher with a son in high school, two
daughters married (one still in Bethel and the other overseas) and his
former teacher-wife, now operating a travel business.
Palestinian-Christian, there were photos of himself with Arafat in his
living room; he said he was no longer active - it was too dangerous for
he would be at risk from the Palestinians. I watched the CD of the
Christening party of his granddaughter, which was obviously a Big
Event in their lives.
At Janin, I was most impressed by The Freedom Theatre’s work with the
children, a pre professional program both in media and stage. We were
shown around by an International (overseas volunteers are termed
Internationals in this country which must label and categorize you!)
who had taken a troupe overseas recently to perform. They had modern
equipment and what I saw of a dramatic production, was impressive.
We spent time in Hebron where I was able to enter the Ibrahimi Mosque,
now shared with a synagogue. There were soldiers and checkpoints
throughout the town. Israeli settlers had residences above the local
souk. Barbed wire had been strung above the walk way for the settlers
threw down various garbage on the locals walking and shopping below.
Time was spent at the local [pre-school where several of our group made
their day with balloon creations for the kids - and teachers who took
some for their own children.
Toward the end of the tour, we went north to Jayyous and Mas’ha, to see
the effects of the ever present wall, which has affected the economy
and society of this agrarian community. I observed an instance where
a farmer with horse and cart had to clear though a virtual wall
(electrified fencing along two sides of a cleared “road”)r through an
opening staffed by two armed soldiers to get to his fields. Others
have just left fields untended rather than deal with the soldiers’ and
the sometimes unpredictable hours.
I was in the Negev one day, where an Israeli-Bedouin organization was
working with the semi-nomads to help them establish recognized villages
which meant they could have water and electricity and find a means of
economic lsupport. The last day was spent in Jaffa, the picturesque
former Palestinian port, which has been overwhelmed by Tel Aviv.
Near where we stayed in East Jerusalem, a family had been evicted by the Israeli government so settlers could be moved in. Part of the home had already been destroyed. The Arab owner had gone to Turkey to search Ottoman records for the title. In the meantime, Israeli Police stood by, family members camped out, activists and media made themselves known. I witnessed the sad scene one afternoon as we drove by.
I did talk with a thirteen year resident of Jerusalem, who was
surprised that we were not able to get into one a settlements for a
scheduled interview. Wrong entrance we were told at the checkpoint; we
needed to drive half an hour away, for the “right” entrance for our
minibus. This resident seemed concerned that I was influenced by
presence/absence of Jewish participants and/or the presence of a
Palestine guide. She pointed out that during the last Intifada, she
had had to draw her shades at night for fear of being targeted. She
simply did not go into East Jerusalem.
Leaving was memorable: three of us were on the sherut (shared taxi) to
the airport. The next person to be picked was tardy but finally
appeared after ten or so minutes: a sixtish black hatted, fully bearded
Orthodox (Hasidic?) Jew, escorted to the vehicle by four dancing,
singing younger versions of himself . Though we collected several more
passengers, none exhibited such panaché.
Getting through the airport and security and onto the aircraft was less difficult than entering over the Bridge. Initially told I was way too early and would have to wait several hours before going through Security - which I like to clear ASAP and particularly, as I was warned of probable complications in exiting Ben Gurion - I was finally directed over to the entryway to the gates. Clutching E-Ticket and passport in hand, assuring one and all, I had no luggage other than my backpack, I was cleared quite routinely, assigned a “2” status (it’s a 1 to 8 scale with 8 being assigned to very suspicious characters!) and sent on my way. No serious search and few questions. No problem!
Reactions: I did not visit Haifa or Tel Aviv nor did I get to the
Golan Heights and Gaza. We did spend time in Palestinian areas and
Jerusalem, which is a small sample to draw from. Overall, I felt that
the Jews, so long oppressed, had become the oppressor. Palestine was
but a suzerainty of Israel.
I had thought matters would be bad but not so bad that there is not
only apartheid, but an apartheid that includes separate roads into
various areas, for separate peoples. Areas are labeled A, B, and C
which determines the right of passage and who is in charge.
Checkpoints galore.
People on both sides of the wall are deeply concerned about human
rights and peacemaking but that doesn’t appear to influence the
leaders’ actions. Talk, yes! Behavior, no! I suspect there is enough
blame around to share so both Palestinians and Israelis could to move
on rather than try to out rationalize and out manipulate each other.
One-state or two-state solution, neither will be meaningful unless the
politicos are serious about a solution.
I returned home depressed: another intifada would not surprise me.
Costs: The Global Exchange fee was about $2200 for accommodation and two
meals a day. I paid $180 for my two additional nights in Jerusalem.
Airfare: BA SFO-Heathrow-Amman; Tel Aviv-Heathrow-SFO: $1491.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Middle East Chronicles Part ! - November 2009 Back to The Dig, plus Toting and Sievin
Back to The Dig, plus Toting and Sieving
Last year I spent two weeks on a dig along the Hejaz Railroad in an effort to determine the extent of the WW1 Arab Revolt. It is part of a ten year conflict archaeological project sponsored by the University of Bristol and the Jordanian Ministry of Antiquities. Exhausted and filthy dirty at the end of the 2008 session, I promptly signed on for this year’s expedition. Along with other volunteers, I paid for a three star hotel, meals, time at Wadi Rum, Aqaba, Petra and ten days physical labor.
There were thirty-two in the group, twelve of whom were staff and the rest, like myself, enthusiasts: students, seniors, archeologists, former military and a photographer-writer. A number had been with the project since the start. We began with a recce at Wuheida, south of Ma’an; east of the wadi originally Turkish territory and the west side an Arab encampment, both tribal and Arab army, with a large stone-marked area that might have been Prince Feisal’s compound. Most of the time was spent checking out and digging in this area, though we did return to the Betn al-Ghoul camp sites along the Hejaz for a day.
Rain sent us to an area that we named Makin’s Fort in honor of the Air Corps pilot who photographed the area. - dug at what might have been a dwelling whose roof had burned - artillery shelling? It is exciting to work on sites whose function is under continuing speculation. And so each days work went. My finds improved over last year’s mule pucky: I advanced to an unexploded British Army .303 cartridge.
And this year we had more visitors than before. By the time we finished up at Makin’s Fort, we had been questioned by the Bedouin police, the Army and the Traffic police.
At Wuheida, The local Sheikh came by, claiming the land was his and so, we must hire his two sons to help us haul ourselves and equipment. State visitors and authors came by. Students came by - we were a popular bunch. The sadness was that a good share of the eastern site at Wuheida had been raped by bull dozer.
The off-days were great! Rather than return to Petra - I had been there several times before - I went with a few to Karak (one of the old nearby Crusader Castles), the Dead Sea and finally by Tafilah, scene of a pitched battle between Ottomans and Arabs. - driving by at dusk, there was little to mark the area as memorable, though several of our group spent a day there with one of the military guys, doing a recce.
The final off-day was spent at Wadi Rum; four of us marked out our own path of travel rather than spend part of the day a Aqaba. This was my third session at Wadi Rum: the first by camel and the second by jeep. This was another run by jeep, but we were able to choose our exact itinerary. One person spent most of the day wandering about Lawrence’s Spring while others went off to various canyons and natural bridges. I could spend days trekking around the area. We ended the day with a royal Bedouin feast.
As with last year, there were evening talks by our leaders, helping us appreciate the meaning of what we were doing; most particularly to understand the nuances of conflict and landscape archaeology. In my school days, admittedly awhile back, there was cultural and physical archaeology - and not much else.
I ended this season with a couple of days in Amman where a healthy climb got me to the Archaeological Museum, the Citadel, Temple of Hercules, a Byzantine Basilica., the Uumayyad palace and cistern with adjacent sights. Also, did a wander about town with a fellow digger from the GARP expeditions.
In Wadi Mousa, the Hotel was the Edom: I have stayed there twice before: first with an Explore tour and twice now with GARP. Would guess it to be moderate in price; certainly convenient and comfortable. In Amman, I stayed at the Toledo Hotel, a very elegent 3-star hotel, just up from where the main bus depot been: #1 on Lonely Planet’s current listing. Airfare: BA SFO-Heathrow-Amman; Tel Aviv-Heathrow-SFO: $1491.
Coming: the Middle East Chronicles part 2 - December 2009. The King Hussein/Allenby Bridge and Beyond.
Last year I spent two weeks on a dig along the Hejaz Railroad in an effort to determine the extent of the WW1 Arab Revolt. It is part of a ten year conflict archaeological project sponsored by the University of Bristol and the Jordanian Ministry of Antiquities. Exhausted and filthy dirty at the end of the 2008 session, I promptly signed on for this year’s expedition. Along with other volunteers, I paid for a three star hotel, meals, time at Wadi Rum, Aqaba, Petra and ten days physical labor.
There were thirty-two in the group, twelve of whom were staff and the rest, like myself, enthusiasts: students, seniors, archeologists, former military and a photographer-writer. A number had been with the project since the start. We began with a recce at Wuheida, south of Ma’an; east of the wadi originally Turkish territory and the west side an Arab encampment, both tribal and Arab army, with a large stone-marked area that might have been Prince Feisal’s compound. Most of the time was spent checking out and digging in this area, though we did return to the Betn al-Ghoul camp sites along the Hejaz for a day.
Rain sent us to an area that we named Makin’s Fort in honor of the Air Corps pilot who photographed the area. - dug at what might have been a dwelling whose roof had burned - artillery shelling? It is exciting to work on sites whose function is under continuing speculation. And so each days work went. My finds improved over last year’s mule pucky: I advanced to an unexploded British Army .303 cartridge.
And this year we had more visitors than before. By the time we finished up at Makin’s Fort, we had been questioned by the Bedouin police, the Army and the Traffic police.
At Wuheida, The local Sheikh came by, claiming the land was his and so, we must hire his two sons to help us haul ourselves and equipment. State visitors and authors came by. Students came by - we were a popular bunch. The sadness was that a good share of the eastern site at Wuheida had been raped by bull dozer.
The off-days were great! Rather than return to Petra - I had been there several times before - I went with a few to Karak (one of the old nearby Crusader Castles), the Dead Sea and finally by Tafilah, scene of a pitched battle between Ottomans and Arabs. - driving by at dusk, there was little to mark the area as memorable, though several of our group spent a day there with one of the military guys, doing a recce.
The final off-day was spent at Wadi Rum; four of us marked out our own path of travel rather than spend part of the day a Aqaba. This was my third session at Wadi Rum: the first by camel and the second by jeep. This was another run by jeep, but we were able to choose our exact itinerary. One person spent most of the day wandering about Lawrence’s Spring while others went off to various canyons and natural bridges. I could spend days trekking around the area. We ended the day with a royal Bedouin feast.
As with last year, there were evening talks by our leaders, helping us appreciate the meaning of what we were doing; most particularly to understand the nuances of conflict and landscape archaeology. In my school days, admittedly awhile back, there was cultural and physical archaeology - and not much else.
I ended this season with a couple of days in Amman where a healthy climb got me to the Archaeological Museum, the Citadel, Temple of Hercules, a Byzantine Basilica., the Uumayyad palace and cistern with adjacent sights. Also, did a wander about town with a fellow digger from the GARP expeditions.
In Wadi Mousa, the Hotel was the Edom: I have stayed there twice before: first with an Explore tour and twice now with GARP. Would guess it to be moderate in price; certainly convenient and comfortable. In Amman, I stayed at the Toledo Hotel, a very elegent 3-star hotel, just up from where the main bus depot been: #1 on Lonely Planet’s current listing. Airfare: BA SFO-Heathrow-Amman; Tel Aviv-Heathrow-SFO: $1491.
Coming: the Middle East Chronicles part 2 - December 2009. The King Hussein/Allenby Bridge and Beyond.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Philip's Camel Trek
(Philip Beck, my Canadian companion on the Moroccan camel trek, reported on his experience. It is a lovely piece - with several corrections: I have yet to travel in South America; while I have wandered about the Himalayas, I haven't done a proper trek; I have been more in the Middle East and Africa than Arabia.
Here's Philip's impressions of the Sahara Camel Trek - and he rode the camel much more than I did, brave man that he is!)
Southern Morocco Camel Trek
by Philip Beck
“For the true adventurer the rewards are found more in the striving and the journey than the achievement of the goal.” (Author unknown)
I came across this quote many years ago and have never forgotten it. Rarely does the opportunity arise for a real adventure: a journey in a remote region where taxing physical effort is required; where the daily rewards are both social, like enjoying your fellow travelers’ company and sharing in your leader’s expertise, and more intimate, like gazing at the Milky Way or even contemplating the crystalline intricacies of a single grain of sand. Exodus’ AMC Southern Morocco Camel Trek is one of these adventures. I was lucky enough to be on this trip in October of 2009.
The backbone of the trip is a 210 km trek from Zagora to Merzouga and the dunes of Erg Chebbi in the Moroccan Sahara desert. This trip’s mastermind and designated leader, Michael Asher, is an internationally renowned desert explorer, author, and environmentalist. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Asher_(explorer)
Michael has received the National Geographic Society’s Ness Award for his desert exploration, and the Royal Scottish Geographical Society’s Mungo Park Medal for exploration and for his work with camels. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 1996. With his wife, he was the first westerner to cross the Sahara from west to east: a 7,430 km. journey by camel that took nine months. (By comparison, it is only 6,700 km from Dawson City, Yukon to Halifax, Nova Scotia!) Michael has also produced films, directed documentaries, and contributes to leading newspapers and magazines. You could not ask for a more knowledgeable leader: a true adventurer who has spent many years in the Sahara living with nomads. Michael shared stories the whole trip about the nomads, desert life, and ecology.
Our group of eleven included six from the UK, one from Korea, one from the UAE, two from the US, and me. Our ages ranged from a 26-year-old to a woman who celebrated her 80th birthday on Day 7. The cooks made a special dessert that night to mark the occasion. This lady had just come from Afghanistan, had traveled through most of the Arabian Peninsula, trekked in the Himalayas, and hiked in South America. I learned a lot from her. One of her secrets is her can-do attitude.
Our group met in Marrakech. The following day we drove by mini-bus over the High Atlas Mountains to Zagora. We passed kasbahs, oases, and villages, and finally reached the end of the road. We met our camels and camel guides ten km past the end of the road just by the Tzi N’Tafilet Pass by 4 X 4’s. Our journey to Merzouga would take us ten days.
Each day we awoke at 5:30 a.m., before the sun rose at six. By seven we had eaten breakfast, packed up, and were ready to set off. We walked or rode for four hours, traveling five or six km per hour, with a rest and snack break every hour. At 11:00 we would find a place to have a three-hour break. We found shade from the hot sun under nearby trees or hillsides and if needed the camel men would put a large tent up for us. They also had lunch ready by around 12:15 after serving us glasses of re-hydrating and therapeutic green tea with as much sugar as we needed.
The afternoon trek likewise lasted three to four hours. The camel men again had tea ready within 30 minutes of our arrival and set up the tent. We got to our stop for the evening just before glorious colourful sunsets. Dinner was usually between 6:30 and 7:00 p.m. Dinner was in the big tent by the light of a single lantern. Each evening we talked about the day and share stories and philosophies. We slept under the stars. Everyone’s last sight each night was the Milky Way and meteorites blazing across the limitless desert sky. We were there when there was no visible moon. This allowed for really clear stargazing.
The desert was mostly uninhabited. We passed only four or five settlements in the ten days. One day we met Berber nomads and visited their tent. Often we crossed paths with herds of camels or goats. We walked through mountain passes, crossed plains, bushwhacked though wadis (dry river beds), and gazed across the desert from the tops of dunes. We got our water from wells. One day we braved a mini sandstorm. Most days a breeze kept us fresh. We all had to keep our faces and heads covered to protect us from the sun. We found fossils. To our great surprise there was a lot of green: oases of palms, grasses, shrubs, desert melons and a few trees.
There were seven camel men plus a cook. Besides preparing our meals and teas and setting up the big tent, they packed and unpacked our gear, tended to the camels, ensured our comfort on the camels, and made sure we didn’t wander off track while walking. I have never seen such a team work so hard and seamlessly in my life. The meals they cooked were far better than the basic fare I was expecting. Every morning I looked forward to oatmeal porridge with fig jam spooned in to sweeten it up. Every day the team made fresh bread in the sand under a fire. These camel men greatly enhanced our group’s experience. They clearly loved what they were doing. Who wouldn't be happy living in the desert at peace, sharing your life experiences to an appreciative group? Our camaraderie with the camel men, evident from the start, developed into real friendships. We walked with them all day long and even though the majority of us spoke no Arabic other than “sukran” and “salaam alekum,” and no Berber, we communicated in broken French (on both sides), smiles, and friendly teasing. These guys spent a large part of the day teasing each other and laughing as well.
The Sahara is wilderness but we were within striking distance of roads and settlements if an emergency arose. We saw snakes and scorpions but a real concern to be aware of was the possibility of dehydration. We had to drink five or six liters of water each day, which for me that meant a few gulps every 15 to 20 minutes. One of these liters had salts dissolved in it to replenish what we’d sweated away.
Some minor annoyances I’d expected turned out to be fine. I was surprised how easy it was to stay clean for so long without a bath or shower. There were a lot of flies in the daytime and moths at night, but we just got used to them. The highest it got was during the day was 32. The evenings went down to about 12.
Our trip ended after a day and a half in the Erg Chebbi. The trip ended too soon. After big handshakes and hugs with our new friends the group realised that we had all accomplished something really big and really important. We also realised how lucky we were to have such a great experience in the desert, learning and sharing.
The highlights were:
• the beauty of the desert and learning about the desert ecosystem
• the Milky Way and shooting stars at night
• the company of Michael Asher
• trekking in a place little touched by ‘progress’
• a slower pace of life as we lived our days by the sun’s rhythms
• learning about and appreciating a nomadic way of life
Morocco is changing and modernizing rapidly. Each day in the Sahara we saw a few jeeps, a specially outfitted overland truck, or quads. Often they stopped and took our pictures. We attracted their interest because we were doing the authentic journey. I’m afraid that in five or ten years the route we took may be paved over. Go there as soon as you can.
Here's Philip's impressions of the Sahara Camel Trek - and he rode the camel much more than I did, brave man that he is!)
Southern Morocco Camel Trek
by Philip Beck
“For the true adventurer the rewards are found more in the striving and the journey than the achievement of the goal.” (Author unknown)
I came across this quote many years ago and have never forgotten it. Rarely does the opportunity arise for a real adventure: a journey in a remote region where taxing physical effort is required; where the daily rewards are both social, like enjoying your fellow travelers’ company and sharing in your leader’s expertise, and more intimate, like gazing at the Milky Way or even contemplating the crystalline intricacies of a single grain of sand. Exodus’ AMC Southern Morocco Camel Trek is one of these adventures. I was lucky enough to be on this trip in October of 2009.
The backbone of the trip is a 210 km trek from Zagora to Merzouga and the dunes of Erg Chebbi in the Moroccan Sahara desert. This trip’s mastermind and designated leader, Michael Asher, is an internationally renowned desert explorer, author, and environmentalist. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Michael_Asher_(explorer)
Michael has received the National Geographic Society’s Ness Award for his desert exploration, and the Royal Scottish Geographical Society’s Mungo Park Medal for exploration and for his work with camels. He was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature in 1996. With his wife, he was the first westerner to cross the Sahara from west to east: a 7,430 km. journey by camel that took nine months. (By comparison, it is only 6,700 km from Dawson City, Yukon to Halifax, Nova Scotia!) Michael has also produced films, directed documentaries, and contributes to leading newspapers and magazines. You could not ask for a more knowledgeable leader: a true adventurer who has spent many years in the Sahara living with nomads. Michael shared stories the whole trip about the nomads, desert life, and ecology.
Our group of eleven included six from the UK, one from Korea, one from the UAE, two from the US, and me. Our ages ranged from a 26-year-old to a woman who celebrated her 80th birthday on Day 7. The cooks made a special dessert that night to mark the occasion. This lady had just come from Afghanistan, had traveled through most of the Arabian Peninsula, trekked in the Himalayas, and hiked in South America. I learned a lot from her. One of her secrets is her can-do attitude.
Our group met in Marrakech. The following day we drove by mini-bus over the High Atlas Mountains to Zagora. We passed kasbahs, oases, and villages, and finally reached the end of the road. We met our camels and camel guides ten km past the end of the road just by the Tzi N’Tafilet Pass by 4 X 4’s. Our journey to Merzouga would take us ten days.
Each day we awoke at 5:30 a.m., before the sun rose at six. By seven we had eaten breakfast, packed up, and were ready to set off. We walked or rode for four hours, traveling five or six km per hour, with a rest and snack break every hour. At 11:00 we would find a place to have a three-hour break. We found shade from the hot sun under nearby trees or hillsides and if needed the camel men would put a large tent up for us. They also had lunch ready by around 12:15 after serving us glasses of re-hydrating and therapeutic green tea with as much sugar as we needed.
The afternoon trek likewise lasted three to four hours. The camel men again had tea ready within 30 minutes of our arrival and set up the tent. We got to our stop for the evening just before glorious colourful sunsets. Dinner was usually between 6:30 and 7:00 p.m. Dinner was in the big tent by the light of a single lantern. Each evening we talked about the day and share stories and philosophies. We slept under the stars. Everyone’s last sight each night was the Milky Way and meteorites blazing across the limitless desert sky. We were there when there was no visible moon. This allowed for really clear stargazing.
The desert was mostly uninhabited. We passed only four or five settlements in the ten days. One day we met Berber nomads and visited their tent. Often we crossed paths with herds of camels or goats. We walked through mountain passes, crossed plains, bushwhacked though wadis (dry river beds), and gazed across the desert from the tops of dunes. We got our water from wells. One day we braved a mini sandstorm. Most days a breeze kept us fresh. We all had to keep our faces and heads covered to protect us from the sun. We found fossils. To our great surprise there was a lot of green: oases of palms, grasses, shrubs, desert melons and a few trees.
There were seven camel men plus a cook. Besides preparing our meals and teas and setting up the big tent, they packed and unpacked our gear, tended to the camels, ensured our comfort on the camels, and made sure we didn’t wander off track while walking. I have never seen such a team work so hard and seamlessly in my life. The meals they cooked were far better than the basic fare I was expecting. Every morning I looked forward to oatmeal porridge with fig jam spooned in to sweeten it up. Every day the team made fresh bread in the sand under a fire. These camel men greatly enhanced our group’s experience. They clearly loved what they were doing. Who wouldn't be happy living in the desert at peace, sharing your life experiences to an appreciative group? Our camaraderie with the camel men, evident from the start, developed into real friendships. We walked with them all day long and even though the majority of us spoke no Arabic other than “sukran” and “salaam alekum,” and no Berber, we communicated in broken French (on both sides), smiles, and friendly teasing. These guys spent a large part of the day teasing each other and laughing as well.
The Sahara is wilderness but we were within striking distance of roads and settlements if an emergency arose. We saw snakes and scorpions but a real concern to be aware of was the possibility of dehydration. We had to drink five or six liters of water each day, which for me that meant a few gulps every 15 to 20 minutes. One of these liters had salts dissolved in it to replenish what we’d sweated away.
Some minor annoyances I’d expected turned out to be fine. I was surprised how easy it was to stay clean for so long without a bath or shower. There were a lot of flies in the daytime and moths at night, but we just got used to them. The highest it got was during the day was 32. The evenings went down to about 12.
Our trip ended after a day and a half in the Erg Chebbi. The trip ended too soon. After big handshakes and hugs with our new friends the group realised that we had all accomplished something really big and really important. We also realised how lucky we were to have such a great experience in the desert, learning and sharing.
The highlights were:
• the beauty of the desert and learning about the desert ecosystem
• the Milky Way and shooting stars at night
• the company of Michael Asher
• trekking in a place little touched by ‘progress’
• a slower pace of life as we lived our days by the sun’s rhythms
• learning about and appreciating a nomadic way of life
Morocco is changing and modernizing rapidly. Each day in the Sahara we saw a few jeeps, a specially outfitted overland truck, or quads. Often they stopped and took our pictures. We attracted their interest because we were doing the authentic journey. I’m afraid that in five or ten years the route we took may be paved over. Go there as soon as you can.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Road to Morocco - without Bob, Bing or Dorothy!
For several years, I had been trying to sign on to one of Exodus’/Michael Asher’s camel treks without success. The Kenyan ones were canceled - lack of participation - and there were visa issues with the Sudanese ones.
So when an October Moroccan Sahara trek was announced, I immediately contacted Adventure Center with deposit in hand. I was a fan of Asher’s from his TE Lawrence and Wilfred Thesiger biographies to his recent history of the SAS, Britain's Special Forces unit. The fact that he also was the last of the great desert explorers added to my determination to go, cheerfully ignoring Exodus’ listing of this tour as Moderate/Strenuous plus my past experience with camels which have left me walking most of the time.
Normally, I leave tours labeled Strenuous, alone. Adventurous, I’ll consider; Strenuous I avoid. But not this one, my Birthday present to myself. The thought of riding/walking across the Sahara for ten days - magnificent!
Marrakesh was the gathering point for the eleven intrepides who were set for this trip, several of whom had increased workouts in preparation. We were a mixed group: There was an Aussie couple, a Korean woman, an Emirates Arab, a Canadian, another American woman and the rest Brits. Ages: from twenty eight to eighty. And it was the best group I’ve ever traveled with - we bonded together well.
From Marrakech, we drove to Zagora where we were to met our camels and crew and have an introduction to the trekking. The problem was, to use an old Anglo-Saxon expression, some dumb shit didn’t get the word! So camels and crew were not where they were supposed to be and the local agent refused responsibility. Finally we made connections but no trekking that day. Just a chance to try on the camel of choice and camp out, with serious business to begin the following day.
The terrain ranged from hilly and rocky to sandy with brush to a packed gravel road to sand. All walked the first hour and then choices were made either to walk or ride for the next hour segment and so it went. At noon there was a several hour respite for lunch. Usually about six PM, we were done for the day. The scenery was great; the sunsets and sunrises were breathtaking.
By the end of the third day - second day of trekking - I really wondered what I had gotten myself in for. My nether regions were shot. The thought of more camel riding, no matter how the pads and blankets were arranged, sent me into outer space. By the fifth day, I had pulled a groin muscle. I obviously had more trouble than anyone else. Others could give themselves a break with an hours ride. I would try it and within half an hour, was off the animal and back on foot. At the end of the trek, my feet were as taped up as they had been when I was doing point work some years ago.
I had no choice but to suck it up and keep going. And once I realized that, I put myself into The Zone and trudged on, hopefully at a pace that didn’t hold anyone up too much. I made good use of the rest periods. And enjoyed the completion of each days journey, which was about 20+ kilometers. By the time we completed the trek at Merzouga, I was quite pleased with myself.
While others had bits and pieces of problems, most did well. An Aussie walked the entire distance and the Arab only rode the final bit. My fellow American, a devoted cameleer, rode the full trip. Several had intestinal problems. So far as I could tell, my roommate, the Korean woman, smaller than I am, had no difficulty and kept plugging on.
Though tents were provided, we all camped out. Mostly, the sky was clear and, even without my glasses, I could see the starts. It was a extraordinary experience, to lie there and breathe the clean outdoor air. I’ve rarely done this for I was never a camper in my salad days, so really appreciated this experience.
The sadness of the trip was the encroachment of civilization. Motorbikes roaring across the land and the tracks of 4x4s in the sands. of the Erg Chebbi broke into the desert isolation. I wonder if there is any place left that Man hasn’t attacked.
Michael Asher was an outstanding guide - very sensitive about and concerned for everyone’s welfare. Obviously knowledgeable about the area and facile in Arabic, one had every confidence in his leadership. He also kept the evening’s discussions going: we had several very bright and knowledgeable people in the group who were responsive to Asher’s rather Socratic style.
At the end, we had a day in Fez including a tour of the City and the Medina. For the first time, overseas, I bought nothing home with me. In fact, I lost both ball cap and duffel carrier at JFK.
Would I do this again? Probably!
Addendum:
Food was plain but good: pasta, couscous or rice with various vegetables, cheese bread, jam and sardines. Fruit or chocolate pudding for deserts. Often, there was oatmeal for breakfast.
Accommodations in Marrakesh, Zagora and Fez were very comfortable. The Fez Hotel was a bit out of the way, however.
Tour cost was $2703.25 , which included a discount for past patronage. Almost all meals were included. Air transprt was on Delta and Royal Air Maroc and cost $2403.25, plus $200 I paid at JFK to catch an earlier flight to SFO.
So when an October Moroccan Sahara trek was announced, I immediately contacted Adventure Center with deposit in hand. I was a fan of Asher’s from his TE Lawrence and Wilfred Thesiger biographies to his recent history of the SAS, Britain's Special Forces unit. The fact that he also was the last of the great desert explorers added to my determination to go, cheerfully ignoring Exodus’ listing of this tour as Moderate/Strenuous plus my past experience with camels which have left me walking most of the time.
Normally, I leave tours labeled Strenuous, alone. Adventurous, I’ll consider; Strenuous I avoid. But not this one, my Birthday present to myself. The thought of riding/walking across the Sahara for ten days - magnificent!
Marrakesh was the gathering point for the eleven intrepides who were set for this trip, several of whom had increased workouts in preparation. We were a mixed group: There was an Aussie couple, a Korean woman, an Emirates Arab, a Canadian, another American woman and the rest Brits. Ages: from twenty eight to eighty. And it was the best group I’ve ever traveled with - we bonded together well.
From Marrakech, we drove to Zagora where we were to met our camels and crew and have an introduction to the trekking. The problem was, to use an old Anglo-Saxon expression, some dumb shit didn’t get the word! So camels and crew were not where they were supposed to be and the local agent refused responsibility. Finally we made connections but no trekking that day. Just a chance to try on the camel of choice and camp out, with serious business to begin the following day.
The terrain ranged from hilly and rocky to sandy with brush to a packed gravel road to sand. All walked the first hour and then choices were made either to walk or ride for the next hour segment and so it went. At noon there was a several hour respite for lunch. Usually about six PM, we were done for the day. The scenery was great; the sunsets and sunrises were breathtaking.
By the end of the third day - second day of trekking - I really wondered what I had gotten myself in for. My nether regions were shot. The thought of more camel riding, no matter how the pads and blankets were arranged, sent me into outer space. By the fifth day, I had pulled a groin muscle. I obviously had more trouble than anyone else. Others could give themselves a break with an hours ride. I would try it and within half an hour, was off the animal and back on foot. At the end of the trek, my feet were as taped up as they had been when I was doing point work some years ago.
I had no choice but to suck it up and keep going. And once I realized that, I put myself into The Zone and trudged on, hopefully at a pace that didn’t hold anyone up too much. I made good use of the rest periods. And enjoyed the completion of each days journey, which was about 20+ kilometers. By the time we completed the trek at Merzouga, I was quite pleased with myself.
While others had bits and pieces of problems, most did well. An Aussie walked the entire distance and the Arab only rode the final bit. My fellow American, a devoted cameleer, rode the full trip. Several had intestinal problems. So far as I could tell, my roommate, the Korean woman, smaller than I am, had no difficulty and kept plugging on.
Though tents were provided, we all camped out. Mostly, the sky was clear and, even without my glasses, I could see the starts. It was a extraordinary experience, to lie there and breathe the clean outdoor air. I’ve rarely done this for I was never a camper in my salad days, so really appreciated this experience.
The sadness of the trip was the encroachment of civilization. Motorbikes roaring across the land and the tracks of 4x4s in the sands. of the Erg Chebbi broke into the desert isolation. I wonder if there is any place left that Man hasn’t attacked.
Michael Asher was an outstanding guide - very sensitive about and concerned for everyone’s welfare. Obviously knowledgeable about the area and facile in Arabic, one had every confidence in his leadership. He also kept the evening’s discussions going: we had several very bright and knowledgeable people in the group who were responsive to Asher’s rather Socratic style.
At the end, we had a day in Fez including a tour of the City and the Medina. For the first time, overseas, I bought nothing home with me. In fact, I lost both ball cap and duffel carrier at JFK.
Would I do this again? Probably!
Addendum:
Food was plain but good: pasta, couscous or rice with various vegetables, cheese bread, jam and sardines. Fruit or chocolate pudding for deserts. Often, there was oatmeal for breakfast.
Accommodations in Marrakesh, Zagora and Fez were very comfortable. The Fez Hotel was a bit out of the way, however.
Tour cost was $2703.25 , which included a discount for past patronage. Almost all meals were included. Air transprt was on Delta and Royal Air Maroc and cost $2403.25, plus $200 I paid at JFK to catch an earlier flight to SFO.
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