Home time!

Beirut did redeem itself! and I will tell you about it but now off to the airport to catch the plane home! Hooray! Flying Amman, Bangkok, Sydney, Canberra, arriving Canberra mid morning Friday.

The Bombs of Beirut

After Syria, I jumped back in the car and drove across the mountains and into Lebanon, down to Beirut. To be honest Beirut was more of a mixed experience. It started well and ended well, but there was a shaky bit in the middle where I wasn’t sure about Beirut! When I arrived in Beirut I was full of the recommendations that Beirut was the “French Riviera of the Middle east” etc etc, and a modern, funky city. So with this in mind, I headed out to enjoy the sea. I was in a hotel right near the corniche (the esplanade along the Mediterranean), so I headed off the find the beach at the end of it. Most of the waterfront is of course not beach but rocks and rock wall, but according to the map there are were a couple of long sandy beaches at the end of the 5km Beirut Marathon route along the corniche. I decided it would be a nice walk and I would be rewarded with a swim at the beach at the end of the 5km. It was a nice walk and once again I found myself reflecting back to our beloved Gong… the cars lined up along the waterfront with young Lebanese guys gave me new insight to south beach! Anyway, I finally reached the promised beach and by this time was well ready for a swim, but I guess I made some mistaken assumptions about how modern and progressive Beirut was. It indeed was a nice long sandy beach, but there was barely a woman on it and certainly not any swimming, bar two women in full hijab in the shallows with their kids. Needless to say I realized the thought of ducking in for a swim was clearly a bit silly, so I decided to go back to the hotel “beach club” (aka swimming pool near the water). I got a taxi back and got a crazy taxi driver who when we got near our hotel pointed out oops that there behind that yellow tape on the corner is the bomb site where the former prime minister was recently blown up. Always reassuring to be reminded you picked a holiday spot where there have been a few too many car bombs lately. About this stage he starts yelling “Beirut no good! Very dangerous! You finish your business and GO! You understand me!? Finish your business and go!!”. He then proceeded to rip me off so I suspect he was the main danger…Anyway, never one to be deterred by a crazy taxi driver, headed off the beachclub anyway. Of course, it turns out also to be right at the bombsite, cos when I ask directions, they say just go around the police tape and under the bombed bit… which I do. Then I get in and they do have a lovely pool just behind the bombed area which appears unaffected, so I go in, but they don’t let me in because I don’t have the right voucher. I ask if they can just phone back to the hotel to confirm I am staying there, to which they respond “sorry, there are no phones down here. All the phones were destroyed by the assassination car bomb…” At this point I decided maybe it was a bit much for an R&R swim, so I retreated to the indoor swimming pool at the hotel proper before being brave enough to venture out again. Out of time, more on Beirut’s redemption later….

Down the highway in a big yellow valiant…. To Damascus!!

Actually, I wasn’t in a big yellow valiant, but I was jealous of the people who were, and the cars weren’t exactly valiants but they looked like them! I drove to Damascus on Sunday from Amman- it is less than 3 hours from Amman. All the Damascus-Amman taxis are these hilarious yellow beasts of cars which looks like big old valiants or something like that (not being a car person can’t be more specific, but think, big, wide and yellow).The road from Amman to the border is essentially desert (as is most of Jordan) but once you hit Syria it seems to get more fertile and the road fills up of all these trucks laden with fantastic looking veges (we had to dodge a few apples and capsicums coming off the back). I spent two nights in Damascus, near the old city. I am pleased to say that Damascus completely lived up to expectations in terms of being a fascinating and what you imagine an old Arab city to be. I spent most of my time wandering through the old city and the souks, which I think you could just do endlessly and still find more fascinating and beautiful things. The nicest thing about Syria was how lovely and gentle the people where. In one walk of about 2 hours I counted about 10 people who I met and who did something nice for me, from the woman who helped me ask for apple juice in Arabic (tufah) and then walked me the few blocks to the place I wanted to go, and then turns out she spent 30 years living in Bankstown and then returned to her beloved Syria once her children were grown up), to the young artist who gave me directions, then showed me his little gallery and then directed me to a lovely hidden little café where I could find some nice lunch. With everyone I met there just seemed to be this unique gentleness.

The Jabals of Amman

After Jerusalem, I have a week’s R&R, so I decided to spend two nights in Amman for old times sake. I’ve realized that something I love about Amman, and also to a large degree Jerusalem is the way they are built all over these hills (Jabals) so when you drive around at night, or sit in a bar or a restaurant or at someone’s house on the side of a hill you are surrounded by these lovely sparkles. It’s quite lovely. Anyway, in Amman I stayed at the Amra, where I have always stayed in Amman and enjoyed a bit of time round the swimming pool but was disappointed to hear that my favourite waiter and the shoe shine man with whom I used to have daily chats have both moved on since I was last here. Then I went out to dinner with Bec Reynolds, who some of my friends will remember which was lovely. She is living here for the time being. The next day I visited may favourite shops and spent the afternoon at the Hamam Al Pasha, which is one of the best things anywhere. After that it was a catch up with Alia, followed by beer with Harriet, the new head of office here. The next day was spent divided between the pool and the Syrian embassy for my visa, with a quick visit to the office. The old office (where I worked in 2003) is in the middle of receiving a fresh coat of paint in bright red and orange tones and looks fabulous, compared to the awful plain white it used to be. Then I got my visa and headed off to Syria….

Whirly Winds across the Jordan Valley

With the usual mad rush and hurried goodbyes I dashed out of Jerusalem on Friday and down across the Jordan Valley, past the Dead Sea and into Jordan. End of the line for me in Jerusalem. Its always a bit sad to leave especially when you like the people you work with, and I very much did in this case. As we drove across the Jordan Valley there were all these little dusty whirly winds swirling all over the valley. Somehow it seemed quite appropriate. To mark the occasion of my departure, after two months of relative calm in Gaza (remembering the reason I was there was in case it wasn’t calm), over 25 rockets and a couple of air strikes were launched the very day I left. I guess they just didn’t really want me to leave and this is their way of inviting me back again ;)

At home in Jerusalem

This weekend I have to limit my adventures. It’s my last weekend here so I have lots of work to do. I stayed in all day except when I walked down to the corner to buy some bread. A couple of hours later I was sitting at my desk when I heard a lot of noise. Some small explosions followed by some screams. Not too much, just a little. Anyway, so sure enough I look out the window down to the corner right where the bread man's cart is and there are a whole bunch of soldiers pulling people out of a car and seeming to be hitting something, though I didn’t have my glasses on so who knows what was really happening. There were more bangs, some bright flashes, screams, people running and a few shots, but all ‘low level’ nothing that sounded too bad. Eventually my friend rang me and filled me in on the story. Apparently the soldiers believed they identified a suspicious pack and they bought in the robot to blow it up. That must have been just past the corner as I didn't see the robot myself (though I confess I am kinda interested to see one...). Tonight I’m still at my desk working (ok so this is a little break) and instead there is great loud Arabic music playing from a wedding going on nearby and the loud bangs in the air are celebratory fireworks floating up to the full moon.

Fun and sun in Wollongong… oops, I mean Tel Aviv!

This weekend I went to Tel Aviv for the weekend. Can’t come all this way and not go to Tel Aviv. Yet again, it is radically different to Jerusalem even though it is only an hour away. My colleague described it to me as just a big beach town, and when I got there it very much reminded me of Wollongong only much bigger. Then I remembered that Jo, the ultimate Wollongong expert and one time Tel Aviv resident had also said it reminded her of the Gong. Anyway, I got myself a room on the beach (note the view from the room as per the photo!) and indulged in a little in secular sun loving and swimming, listened to the sounds of old Israelis named Shaul and Shlomo, ate fish at a Yemenite restaurant and visited the old Arab port city of Jaffa, where there are some of the very limited reminders of the Arab city and villages that were forced out of here when Israel moved in back in 1948.

a Tale of Two Cities

So far I have been living and working in East Jerusalem, which is the Palestinian side of Jerusalem. It feels like a typical Arabic city, very similar in fact at least physically/visually to Amman. On Sunday we went for a spot of shopping in West Jerusalem, which was my first time on ‘the other side’. In fact the other side was just a short walk from our house across a main road, but it was like arriving in another country. The difference between the East and the West was really just completely extraordinary. Suddenly I felt like I was in Europe in a developed and sophisticated city with little streets and allies full of funky shops and cafes, though of course there are armed guards outside to search your bag for bombs before you go in, young off duty soldiers wander round with their weapons in their shopping baskets, and the ultra orthodox Jews among the shoppers make you feel like you are in a different time altogether. Every weekend another little layer of this totally fascinating place is revealed… I think I finally might be understanding how so many of my friends are obsessed with it.

Jericho and the Mount of Temptation

On Saturday I took a trip down to the famed city of Jericho, where the walls have well and truly fallen down. It is a small place with not much to do but spectacular scenery and a giant hotel casino sticking up out of the desert (which happens to have a nice swimming pool and hence Jericho is a popular weekend away from Jerusalem). The main attraction in Jericho is the Mount of Temptation. You can take a cable car up to see the view from the top and visit a little old monastery built into the side of the mountain- in the picture.

When I am coming home?

For those who are wondering, I will be back in Canberra on 30 Sep at about 11am. I will be making only a brief appearance in Canberra before heading off again for other parts on 11 October.