I just found a couple of posts squirreled away into the netherlands of my hard drive, covering the last day in Egypt and the first in Libya. May be redundant and old news at this point, but I thought I'd put them up anyway. See below.
And I'm still working on the photos! Hope to have them ready tomorrow.
12 April 2006
Lost Post 2
Saturday, March 18
1:24 pm CST
9:24 pm Libya, Susa
We made it. I’m in f@#king Libya.
Took us two and a half hours to cross the border at Sallum in Egypt. No problems, just a long wait. Never once saw a customs or immigration agent.
Our drive west along the Libyan coastline took us through some of the most godforsaken land I have ever seen. Completely desolate, trash-ridden desert. Plastic bags blown up against barbed wired waved like desert flowers. Burned out abandoned cars (“dead cars”) littered on the fringe of the road. Coyotes and camels alike scavenged. A sea of nothingness.
Today was also the first day of the ghibli, the hot desert winds that kick up a lot of sand. Sandstorms are not enjoyable. We made a pit stop where I experienced the most vile toilet yet. Our drive was probably three times the length anticicpted, always “only one more hour” or “it’s just 50km to the hotel from here.” Try 250 km… Anyone here look at a map lately? Morale was definitely down, the mood on the bus a complete reversal from that in Egypt. Everything was rather comfortable and familiar and jovial on our little caravan there. I miss Walid and Hashim. I think we all do.
We did not do any touring today, as we pulled into our hotel close to 8 pm. There were some highlights of the bus ride, entirely astronomical though. As it was setting, the sun became a completely white round ball in the sky, like a glowing superball. You could look right at it (though I’m sure it was still bad for you). Never seen a sun like that. Then, after the sun had completely disappeared, the stars made their entrance. So many, so clear. Orion jumped right out. Been a long time since I’ve seen stars like that, and that was still along the highway with some light emanating from the cars. The desert is going to be amazing.
My cell phone is not working here, contrary to what I was told. Also, my voltage converter blew a fuse so I have no way to safely charge my phone or my computer or my iPod. I’m running on 15% power here and two bars on my phone. This is causing me much consternation. My lifelines to my life are slipping away from me. I must find someone with a converter that I can borrow for an afternoon.
Day 10, and homesickness is setting in.
1:24 pm CST
9:24 pm Libya, Susa
We made it. I’m in f@#king Libya.
Took us two and a half hours to cross the border at Sallum in Egypt. No problems, just a long wait. Never once saw a customs or immigration agent.
Our drive west along the Libyan coastline took us through some of the most godforsaken land I have ever seen. Completely desolate, trash-ridden desert. Plastic bags blown up against barbed wired waved like desert flowers. Burned out abandoned cars (“dead cars”) littered on the fringe of the road. Coyotes and camels alike scavenged. A sea of nothingness.
Today was also the first day of the ghibli, the hot desert winds that kick up a lot of sand. Sandstorms are not enjoyable. We made a pit stop where I experienced the most vile toilet yet. Our drive was probably three times the length anticicpted, always “only one more hour” or “it’s just 50km to the hotel from here.” Try 250 km… Anyone here look at a map lately? Morale was definitely down, the mood on the bus a complete reversal from that in Egypt. Everything was rather comfortable and familiar and jovial on our little caravan there. I miss Walid and Hashim. I think we all do.
We did not do any touring today, as we pulled into our hotel close to 8 pm. There were some highlights of the bus ride, entirely astronomical though. As it was setting, the sun became a completely white round ball in the sky, like a glowing superball. You could look right at it (though I’m sure it was still bad for you). Never seen a sun like that. Then, after the sun had completely disappeared, the stars made their entrance. So many, so clear. Orion jumped right out. Been a long time since I’ve seen stars like that, and that was still along the highway with some light emanating from the cars. The desert is going to be amazing.
My cell phone is not working here, contrary to what I was told. Also, my voltage converter blew a fuse so I have no way to safely charge my phone or my computer or my iPod. I’m running on 15% power here and two bars on my phone. This is causing me much consternation. My lifelines to my life are slipping away from me. I must find someone with a converter that I can borrow for an afternoon.
Day 10, and homesickness is setting in.
Lost Post 1
Friday, March 17
9:43 am CST
5:43 pm Egypt, Marsa Matrouh
If only you could see what I’m seeing. I’m usually not one for beaches, palm trees, and sunsets, but I’m usually not staying at brand new five-star beachfront hotels on the Mediterranean either. The hotel is completely empty except for our group. The whole town is, really. Marsa Matrouh is asleep nine months of the year, until refugees from the hotter lands invade in June. We’ve got about two hours until dinner, so I’m making efficient use of the balcony. My room faces west, towards the sunset. Cameras are ready.
It’s fitting that this idyllic corner will host our last night in Egypt. Starting from the hustle and madness of Cairo, we’re ending with the calm and stillness of the sea. (Calm except for the obnoxious chatter wafting over a few terraces away. Don’t you people need quiet time??) I’m sad to be leaving Egypt, and our awesome guides Walid and Hisham. They stay behind at the border, and we meet up with our new guides (and bus) in Libya.
We left Alexandria at about 7 am this morning. I ignored the 5:30 am wake up call and snoozed til 6. Rolled out of bed, packed, showered, had all my bags downstairs and on the bus by 6:30. Still in time for breakfast. I’m getting pretty good at this.
First stop was Abu Mena, a holy pilgrimage site for Coptic Christians, dedicated to St. Menas, and the first of our five UNESCO sites. The skies were perfect, yet again, making for some nice photos of the newer monastery complex. The remains of the old sixth century monastery are still there (which is what we went to see), you just have to take a nice little walk through rocks, mud, sinkholes, and sludge to get there.
Then we went to El Alamein, a WWII battle site. We visited one of the memorials, an Allied cemetery. Very calm, very lovely, very moving in its starkness. Some of the epitaphs were quite sad. The ages of the soldiers were engraved on the stones, some as young as 18. History just repeats itself. You’d think we’d learn to play nice by now. Most of the soldiers were killed in a battled waged for control of north Africa in October/November 1942. The Allies won.
Our travel agent, based in New York, is coming to Libya with us. She met up with us today after Abu Mena. We stopped in the middle of nowhere in the desert to literally pick her up from the side of the road. That just how things are done here.
The bulk of the drive followed right along the Mediterranean coast, and I swear I’ve never seen more beautiful water. I think I said that ten years ago in France, too. We had to wait for permission from the inspector to get to our last site, so we crashed a hotel lounge to use their restroom and their bar. (Last night for alcohol!) I wandered on down to the beach. The sand is bone white. The sea is turquoise.
Wish you were here.
9:43 am CST
5:43 pm Egypt, Marsa Matrouh
If only you could see what I’m seeing. I’m usually not one for beaches, palm trees, and sunsets, but I’m usually not staying at brand new five-star beachfront hotels on the Mediterranean either. The hotel is completely empty except for our group. The whole town is, really. Marsa Matrouh is asleep nine months of the year, until refugees from the hotter lands invade in June. We’ve got about two hours until dinner, so I’m making efficient use of the balcony. My room faces west, towards the sunset. Cameras are ready.
It’s fitting that this idyllic corner will host our last night in Egypt. Starting from the hustle and madness of Cairo, we’re ending with the calm and stillness of the sea. (Calm except for the obnoxious chatter wafting over a few terraces away. Don’t you people need quiet time??) I’m sad to be leaving Egypt, and our awesome guides Walid and Hisham. They stay behind at the border, and we meet up with our new guides (and bus) in Libya.
We left Alexandria at about 7 am this morning. I ignored the 5:30 am wake up call and snoozed til 6. Rolled out of bed, packed, showered, had all my bags downstairs and on the bus by 6:30. Still in time for breakfast. I’m getting pretty good at this.
First stop was Abu Mena, a holy pilgrimage site for Coptic Christians, dedicated to St. Menas, and the first of our five UNESCO sites. The skies were perfect, yet again, making for some nice photos of the newer monastery complex. The remains of the old sixth century monastery are still there (which is what we went to see), you just have to take a nice little walk through rocks, mud, sinkholes, and sludge to get there.
Then we went to El Alamein, a WWII battle site. We visited one of the memorials, an Allied cemetery. Very calm, very lovely, very moving in its starkness. Some of the epitaphs were quite sad. The ages of the soldiers were engraved on the stones, some as young as 18. History just repeats itself. You’d think we’d learn to play nice by now. Most of the soldiers were killed in a battled waged for control of north Africa in October/November 1942. The Allies won.
Our travel agent, based in New York, is coming to Libya with us. She met up with us today after Abu Mena. We stopped in the middle of nowhere in the desert to literally pick her up from the side of the road. That just how things are done here.
The bulk of the drive followed right along the Mediterranean coast, and I swear I’ve never seen more beautiful water. I think I said that ten years ago in France, too. We had to wait for permission from the inspector to get to our last site, so we crashed a hotel lounge to use their restroom and their bar. (Last night for alcohol!) I wandered on down to the beach. The sand is bone white. The sea is turquoise.
Wish you were here.
05 April 2006
Alitalia Flight 626
Monday, April 3
About 3:30 pm Libya, 7:30 am CST
In the vicinity of Greenland
According to the flight monitor, we've got over four and half hours to go still. I hate return flights from Europre, always during the daytime so it's impossible to sleep. Wouldn't mind so much if I had slept at all last night, which I didn't. But, I'm going home. I can't believe I'm going home. Wasn't I just saying I can't believe I'm here? There? Where am I?
I don't feel that the time passed extraordinarily fast, as most tend to say on the return journey. As some points it downright slogged along. But that's how life goes, too. I think the past week in the desert, I really got into a semi-regular set routine. We shifted location once, but it was more or less exactly the same surroundings. And of course, as previously stated, I've actually had time to get to know some of the people (Libyans, that is) along the way rather than do the meet-and-greet over and over again in each respective city. These kids, their enthusiasm was infectious and just the thing to make it through the last leg of the trip. Comraderie transcended the language barrier. Abrahem, the ringleader of the bunch and the best driver with the best car with the best music in my opinion, even stuck around the airport with us in Sabha til our flight left. I get sad and mad when I think of how they would probably be treated, simply based on their appearance, if they came to the US.
Vegetarian meal was once again flubbed, not surprising given the absolute chaos at the airport this morning. Ten hour flight, roll and a fruitcup. Oh man, five hours to Mexican food. Can't wait.
Genius that I am, I packed my gum, sleeping pills, and headphones in my checked bag, so sleep is not looking likely, and my ears are popping like mad.
Almost there...
About 3:30 pm Libya, 7:30 am CST
In the vicinity of Greenland
According to the flight monitor, we've got over four and half hours to go still. I hate return flights from Europre, always during the daytime so it's impossible to sleep. Wouldn't mind so much if I had slept at all last night, which I didn't. But, I'm going home. I can't believe I'm going home. Wasn't I just saying I can't believe I'm here? There? Where am I?
I don't feel that the time passed extraordinarily fast, as most tend to say on the return journey. As some points it downright slogged along. But that's how life goes, too. I think the past week in the desert, I really got into a semi-regular set routine. We shifted location once, but it was more or less exactly the same surroundings. And of course, as previously stated, I've actually had time to get to know some of the people (Libyans, that is) along the way rather than do the meet-and-greet over and over again in each respective city. These kids, their enthusiasm was infectious and just the thing to make it through the last leg of the trip. Comraderie transcended the language barrier. Abrahem, the ringleader of the bunch and the best driver with the best car with the best music in my opinion, even stuck around the airport with us in Sabha til our flight left. I get sad and mad when I think of how they would probably be treated, simply based on their appearance, if they came to the US.
Vegetarian meal was once again flubbed, not surprising given the absolute chaos at the airport this morning. Ten hour flight, roll and a fruitcup. Oh man, five hours to Mexican food. Can't wait.
Genius that I am, I packed my gum, sleeping pills, and headphones in my checked bag, so sleep is not looking likely, and my ears are popping like mad.
Almost there...
Acacus sunsets
Saturday, April 1 (holy crap it's April)
7:56 pm
Acacus Mountain Camp, Libya
It's just before dinner, and, perhaps inspired by Salem's birdseye perch across the way, I watched the sun set from the top of the highest rock I felt comfortable climbing in bare feet. When the blazing bulb dropped below the horizon, the wispy cottony clouds refracted magenta, violet, and gold. I watched until the pinks disappeared, then lay down flat on the smooth black stone looking straight at the sky until every star was visible. The idle din of chatter and the buzzing camp generator notwithstanding, it was the most peaceful moment I've had yet on this trip. Maybe even ever.
More later. Time for second to last dinner in Libya.
7:56 pm
Acacus Mountain Camp, Libya
It's just before dinner, and, perhaps inspired by Salem's birdseye perch across the way, I watched the sun set from the top of the highest rock I felt comfortable climbing in bare feet. When the blazing bulb dropped below the horizon, the wispy cottony clouds refracted magenta, violet, and gold. I watched until the pinks disappeared, then lay down flat on the smooth black stone looking straight at the sky until every star was visible. The idle din of chatter and the buzzing camp generator notwithstanding, it was the most peaceful moment I've had yet on this trip. Maybe even ever.
More later. Time for second to last dinner in Libya.
Been through the desert on a horse with no name...
Thursday, March 30
9:28 pm
Ubari Camp, Libya
Three more days. Then the journey home begins. So excited, I can taste it.
The past 24 hours have been rather taxing, on mind, body and spirit. We spent a total of 8 hours driving today to visit ONE site for an hour plus lunch. The drive was arduous, the terrain unforgiving. Fumes, kicked up dust and sand, broiling hot. A quarter of the drive took us over a minefield of scattered shattered rocks, a landscape Herodotus appropriately referred to as "the end of the world" and is now known as the Ocean of Stone. My driver for today, Mohammed, ably navigated the protruding obstacles, but not without jolting my back and stomach in every direction. It was a drive that led me to thinking, what in the hell are we doing out here?
The rocks littering the flat flat FLAT ground are black like lava on top, earthen red on bottom. Not sure what the story is on that, but I snagged a few specimens to ask those that might. Our epic trek came to a bumping halt at lunchtime, high noon, at which point it was decided to forego the meal and go straight to the site, under the sizzling sun. Animals incised in the rock face. Yay. I love me some giraffes, I do, and it's cool they're here and they're 8,000 years old and well-executed. But, I and my 2,000 parts did not deem it worthy of 8 hours of vehicular hell, enhanced ever more by the voracious flies.
The enterprising Tuaregs (the nomads of the Sahara) made sure to set up shop just beside our picnic table. I swear, they must have a secret smoke signal or something because they have materialized out of thin air to sell their wares at just about every stop we've made, including the gas station! Persistent bunch, they are. Most speak French, too, so I've had reasonable success on the bargaining table.
Came back to the camp, exhausted, deflated, sand-ridden. Had a little drama with a sick traveler. French chef asked for my telephone number (??) after dinner. Ugh. I wrote a whole entry about that situation in my head in the car today. It'll find it's way onto paper soon enough. For the first time on this entire trip, I was scared.
Bon soir.
9:28 pm
Ubari Camp, Libya
Three more days. Then the journey home begins. So excited, I can taste it.
The past 24 hours have been rather taxing, on mind, body and spirit. We spent a total of 8 hours driving today to visit ONE site for an hour plus lunch. The drive was arduous, the terrain unforgiving. Fumes, kicked up dust and sand, broiling hot. A quarter of the drive took us over a minefield of scattered shattered rocks, a landscape Herodotus appropriately referred to as "the end of the world" and is now known as the Ocean of Stone. My driver for today, Mohammed, ably navigated the protruding obstacles, but not without jolting my back and stomach in every direction. It was a drive that led me to thinking, what in the hell are we doing out here?
The rocks littering the flat flat FLAT ground are black like lava on top, earthen red on bottom. Not sure what the story is on that, but I snagged a few specimens to ask those that might. Our epic trek came to a bumping halt at lunchtime, high noon, at which point it was decided to forego the meal and go straight to the site, under the sizzling sun. Animals incised in the rock face. Yay. I love me some giraffes, I do, and it's cool they're here and they're 8,000 years old and well-executed. But, I and my 2,000 parts did not deem it worthy of 8 hours of vehicular hell, enhanced ever more by the voracious flies.
The enterprising Tuaregs (the nomads of the Sahara) made sure to set up shop just beside our picnic table. I swear, they must have a secret smoke signal or something because they have materialized out of thin air to sell their wares at just about every stop we've made, including the gas station! Persistent bunch, they are. Most speak French, too, so I've had reasonable success on the bargaining table.
Came back to the camp, exhausted, deflated, sand-ridden. Had a little drama with a sick traveler. French chef asked for my telephone number (??) after dinner. Ugh. I wrote a whole entry about that situation in my head in the car today. It'll find it's way onto paper soon enough. For the first time on this entire trip, I was scared.
Bon soir.
Nearing the end
Saturday, April 1
10:12 pm
Acacus Camp, Libya
Though technically we will be here for another full night, this feels like our last night in Libya, and thus the trip. Crazy. We spend all day into night traveling tomorrow, first driving from the desert to Sabha (thankfully no hotel stay there...), then a night flight to Tripoli, then the first leg of our voyage home begins at 4am, if not sooner. There will be no sleeping tomorrow night in the cushy Corinthia bed. I'll never get up.
Today was spent on the road, again. Scenery was, for the most part, jaw dropping. Temperature, idly scorching. (The thermometer in the car read 42 degrees C. That's about 110 F.) We were traveling into the depths of the Acacus Mountain range to see some ancient rock paintings. We've been seeing these images on paper and reproduced in museums throughout the trip, so it was coming full circle to see them in situ. With the end of today, I officially retire my "archaeological shoes". Thanks, Onitsuka Tiger!
A part of me is sad, and maybe even not quite ready to be leaving. This past week in the camps has been really fun, and I've grown quite fond of the boys driving us silly folks around to these remote locations at the end of the world to look at rock scribbles. It's a familial atmosphere, still a boys club by all means, but they're good-natured kids doing the best and making the best of what they've got. (And given that they're all about my age, they're a welcome respite from the incessant talk of ailments, medication, and grandchildren among my group...) I'm going to miss them all, each one having such distinct personality traits. Salem and Abrahem were my homeboys to joke around with, Khalim's like the Libyan Justin Timberlake with a thousand-watt smile, Khalid's the wildchild, Abdullah and Mohammed have this quiet, dark intensity that melts when music plays, Awad is the reluctant leader of the pack. None of them spoke English, but we still managed to communicate in broken Arabinglish. My Arabic vocabulary is in the double digits now. Yala bina!
Some of the boys: Khalid, Awad, and Abrahem
10:12 pm
Acacus Camp, Libya
Though technically we will be here for another full night, this feels like our last night in Libya, and thus the trip. Crazy. We spend all day into night traveling tomorrow, first driving from the desert to Sabha (thankfully no hotel stay there...), then a night flight to Tripoli, then the first leg of our voyage home begins at 4am, if not sooner. There will be no sleeping tomorrow night in the cushy Corinthia bed. I'll never get up.
Today was spent on the road, again. Scenery was, for the most part, jaw dropping. Temperature, idly scorching. (The thermometer in the car read 42 degrees C. That's about 110 F.) We were traveling into the depths of the Acacus Mountain range to see some ancient rock paintings. We've been seeing these images on paper and reproduced in museums throughout the trip, so it was coming full circle to see them in situ. With the end of today, I officially retire my "archaeological shoes". Thanks, Onitsuka Tiger!
A part of me is sad, and maybe even not quite ready to be leaving. This past week in the camps has been really fun, and I've grown quite fond of the boys driving us silly folks around to these remote locations at the end of the world to look at rock scribbles. It's a familial atmosphere, still a boys club by all means, but they're good-natured kids doing the best and making the best of what they've got. (And given that they're all about my age, they're a welcome respite from the incessant talk of ailments, medication, and grandchildren among my group...) I'm going to miss them all, each one having such distinct personality traits. Salem and Abrahem were my homeboys to joke around with, Khalim's like the Libyan Justin Timberlake with a thousand-watt smile, Khalid's the wildchild, Abdullah and Mohammed have this quiet, dark intensity that melts when music plays, Awad is the reluctant leader of the pack. None of them spoke English, but we still managed to communicate in broken Arabinglish. My Arabic vocabulary is in the double digits now. Yala bina!
Some of the boys: Khalid, Awad, and Abrahem
Sahara
Wednesday, March 29
about 6:45 pm
Ubari Camp, Ubari Sand Sea, Sahara, Libya
We've arrived at the first of our desert camps, and oh what a ride it was getting here. Another one of those jaw-dropping, never in my life would I dream I'd be doing this moments. (I'm happy to note that despite the abundance of those moments, each is just as thrilling as the next. Not jaded, yet.) Our desert chariots greeted us at the door to our hotel, which I was elated to be leaving. We reached the edge of the desert in about ten minutes, and from there it was a rollercoaster of undulating sand dunes. Seriously. The Jeeps roared up and over the hills, sometimes at 50, 60 degree angles. Butterflies in the tummy, cool breeze blowing through the windows, racing through the sands, bump bump bump. Unfrickinreal. The landscape is two colors: sand and sky. Nothing else, anywhere, in any direction. I'm hurdling mountains of sand in the Sahara in a Toyota Land Cruiser driven by a Libyan named Abrahem who doesn't speak English. WTF, is this my life?
Oh yeah, and then around noon there was a little astronomical occurrence that was garnering a bit of fuss -- a total solar eclipse. Some groups came to Libya to specifically witness those four minutes, but it was just a pretty nice side benefit for our trip. Our location was about 150 miles from the total path, so we saw about 85/90% eclipse. Still pretty cool. The sky turned an eeerie shade of blue/gray and Abrahem had the special glasses you need to look straight at it.
After our impromptu science lesson in the sand, more dune-buggy antics ensued. One of the 4x4s got a flat, and I wish I timed them because I've never seen a tire changed so fast in my life, in the desert sand no less. like to see the NASCAR chumps do that.
We stopped at the four main Ubari lakes, sprawling oases rising out of the sand. They are stunning! Palm fringed and completely calm and still (except for the unabashed Germans swimming in their skivvies), with amazing relections of the surrounding trees and towering dunes. They're as salty as the Dead Sea. Postcard material, no doubt. The weather has yet again been amazing, not too hot and downright cool at first, very little wind.
Our convoy of six 4x4s (plus the grub truck) works really well together, each of them looking out for the others. It's enthralling to watch the other cars up ahead scale a steep wall of sand only to find yourself doing the same ten seconds later. The drivers are fantastic, brothers and cousins and friends all of them. At our frequent stops, they goof and pal around like ten year-old boys, and that spirit extends to the sands. No doubt they'd be going at double speed over these hills if they weren't toting a bunch of old folks (+ me) around the desert. They've all already learned my name (thanks to Salem, I'm sure). Wish I spoke Arabic! The chef at our camp is Moroccan, and speaks French, so I can parler avec him a bit.
Camp. WAY exceeds expectations. I have my own tent, and when I say tent think mini-circus big top. Two centered poles anchor the enclosure, and the circus-hued cloth drapes down about ten feet to the ground around the perimeter. Two twin beds, at least twelve feet apart, center table (with bowl of almonds and raisins and a banana), two side tables, armoire-ish thing, overhead light, POWER OUTLET, lantern, and two sitting chairs and a table outside. Facilities are way above average, too. Flushing toilets! Haven't seen the showers yet, but I hear there's hot water and good pressure. There's a 24-hour bathroom attendant, too.
All in all, this is just amazing. Reflecting on the past two or three days, the things I've seen and experienced and the people I've met -- I'm pretty effin lucky.
Sun is about to set. Can't miss this!
Saharan sands surrounding our camp, at sunset
about 6:45 pm
Ubari Camp, Ubari Sand Sea, Sahara, Libya
We've arrived at the first of our desert camps, and oh what a ride it was getting here. Another one of those jaw-dropping, never in my life would I dream I'd be doing this moments. (I'm happy to note that despite the abundance of those moments, each is just as thrilling as the next. Not jaded, yet.) Our desert chariots greeted us at the door to our hotel, which I was elated to be leaving. We reached the edge of the desert in about ten minutes, and from there it was a rollercoaster of undulating sand dunes. Seriously. The Jeeps roared up and over the hills, sometimes at 50, 60 degree angles. Butterflies in the tummy, cool breeze blowing through the windows, racing through the sands, bump bump bump. Unfrickinreal. The landscape is two colors: sand and sky. Nothing else, anywhere, in any direction. I'm hurdling mountains of sand in the Sahara in a Toyota Land Cruiser driven by a Libyan named Abrahem who doesn't speak English. WTF, is this my life?
Oh yeah, and then around noon there was a little astronomical occurrence that was garnering a bit of fuss -- a total solar eclipse. Some groups came to Libya to specifically witness those four minutes, but it was just a pretty nice side benefit for our trip. Our location was about 150 miles from the total path, so we saw about 85/90% eclipse. Still pretty cool. The sky turned an eeerie shade of blue/gray and Abrahem had the special glasses you need to look straight at it.
After our impromptu science lesson in the sand, more dune-buggy antics ensued. One of the 4x4s got a flat, and I wish I timed them because I've never seen a tire changed so fast in my life, in the desert sand no less. like to see the NASCAR chumps do that.
We stopped at the four main Ubari lakes, sprawling oases rising out of the sand. They are stunning! Palm fringed and completely calm and still (except for the unabashed Germans swimming in their skivvies), with amazing relections of the surrounding trees and towering dunes. They're as salty as the Dead Sea. Postcard material, no doubt. The weather has yet again been amazing, not too hot and downright cool at first, very little wind.
Our convoy of six 4x4s (plus the grub truck) works really well together, each of them looking out for the others. It's enthralling to watch the other cars up ahead scale a steep wall of sand only to find yourself doing the same ten seconds later. The drivers are fantastic, brothers and cousins and friends all of them. At our frequent stops, they goof and pal around like ten year-old boys, and that spirit extends to the sands. No doubt they'd be going at double speed over these hills if they weren't toting a bunch of old folks (+ me) around the desert. They've all already learned my name (thanks to Salem, I'm sure). Wish I spoke Arabic! The chef at our camp is Moroccan, and speaks French, so I can parler avec him a bit.
Camp. WAY exceeds expectations. I have my own tent, and when I say tent think mini-circus big top. Two centered poles anchor the enclosure, and the circus-hued cloth drapes down about ten feet to the ground around the perimeter. Two twin beds, at least twelve feet apart, center table (with bowl of almonds and raisins and a banana), two side tables, armoire-ish thing, overhead light, POWER OUTLET, lantern, and two sitting chairs and a table outside. Facilities are way above average, too. Flushing toilets! Haven't seen the showers yet, but I hear there's hot water and good pressure. There's a 24-hour bathroom attendant, too.
All in all, this is just amazing. Reflecting on the past two or three days, the things I've seen and experienced and the people I've met -- I'm pretty effin lucky.
Sun is about to set. Can't miss this!
Saharan sands surrounding our camp, at sunset
Ew.
Tuesday, March 28
11:43 pm
Sabha, Libya
OK, I take back what I said about the Zliten hotel. That's like the Four Seasons compared to this. Forget Saran wrap, I'm looking for dead bodies. I bet this place has an hourly rate, if you know whaddimean.
11:43 pm
Sabha, Libya
OK, I take back what I said about the Zliten hotel. That's like the Four Seasons compared to this. Forget Saran wrap, I'm looking for dead bodies. I bet this place has an hourly rate, if you know whaddimean.
On the road, again
Tuesday, March 28
5:57 pm
Driving through the Sahara to Sabha
I've unknowingly and regrettably stumbled into the world headquarters for Celine Dion fans. This is a new kind of hell.
Favorite rip-off, lost-in-translation items:
- Crust toothpaste
- Boreo cookies
- S & Ms candies
- Tayo Auto & Suzy trucks
and the winner, listed on a hotel laundry checklist:
- breast hanger
5:57 pm
Driving through the Sahara to Sabha
I've unknowingly and regrettably stumbled into the world headquarters for Celine Dion fans. This is a new kind of hell.
Favorite rip-off, lost-in-translation items:
- Crust toothpaste
- Boreo cookies
- S & Ms candies
- Tayo Auto & Suzy trucks
and the winner, listed on a hotel laundry checklist:
- breast hanger
Immersion
Monday, March 27
11:38 pm
Ghadames, Libya
I just watched the sun set over three countries from the top of a Saharan sand dune. Then I danced with costumed Libyan boys. Good night.
11:38 pm
Ghadames, Libya
I just watched the sun set over three countries from the top of a Saharan sand dune. Then I danced with costumed Libyan boys. Good night.
Ghadames
Monday, March 27
2:53 pm
Ghadames, Libya
Unlikely as it seemed at the outset, Ghadames just may be my favorite city so far. Reason #1: We've just returned to the hotel for a siesta, because the whole town shuts down until the evening to escape the afternoon heat. That's my kind of thinking.
The drive here yesterday from Tripoli was long, but not so arduous. To break up the journey, we made a couple of stops: an old granary and the little town of Nalut. Both had remarkably preserved and intricately constructed granaries, little storerooms built one on top of each other giving the overall effect of a giant anthill. Traditional Berber mud architecture, but it looked like a big sand dune with holes. I climbed up to peek inside the dark chambers, and some still contained amphoras, the large clay storage jars.
Qasr al-Haj
Nalut
The stretch of road between Nalut and Ghadames gave us our first real glimpse of the desert, the Grand Erg Oriental. These region is called the Jebel Nafusa. Rippling piles of sand, sun bleached plateaus, smatterings of palm trees around scant oases. And, several herds of stubborn camels crossing the road, stopping traffic. Watching a spooked camel gallop out of the way of a blaring horn never failed to amuse.
Mohammed leaving our hotel
We arrived in Ghadames at about 6:15 pm. The majority of the town shares the mudbrick architecture of the sites we saw en route. I've never really been to the southwest, but a number of people compared the two, especially the terrain. Our hotel just opened six months ago, part of The Colonel's directive to increase tourism. It's lovely here, not only clean and liveable (no saran wrap needed), but comfortable and architecturally interesting. Meant to mimic the style of the old city.
Which it does to a tee. This morning, after a visit to the Ghadames Museum and some requisite shopping, we walked through the labyrinth of covered mud brick walls and alleys that comprise the Old City. The entire area is a UNESCO World Heritage site. No one lives there now (though it was inhabited until just two or three years ago by a woman who insisted she was born there, she was going to die there). But, the homes are still privately owned and it's used as a retreat from the summer heat. Outer walls are about a meter thick, 90% of the spaces are covered, with just a few slots for light, so it feels air-conditioned.
Courtyard at Ghadames
It's really a visually amazing place -- emphasis on maze. Benches are built right into and of the same mud brick as the walls along the "streets", as are the bed platforms and tables in our hotel. There are mosques, schools, and meeting places. Daily life was incredibly, almost shockingly segregated (as it still is today... had to check my principles at the door). Regarding publicspaces, only men are allowed at the mosques and in the meeting places; women are confined to the top floor and THE ROOF. (Except for designated times at the mosque, where I think I heard our guide say their main purpose was to clean.)
Our lunch was a surprise. Rather than stopping at restaurant as usual, we were led to a fully decorated traditional home, still in use (at least as a tourist stop), with carpets and pillows lining the floor, mirrors, baskets, tapestries and other handicraft adorning the walls right up to the ceiling.
We sat on the cushioned floor to eat, and our meal was brought out on large round silver trays with legs. Five to a tray. One of the local craft specialities are these brightly woven conical food covers, though they look more like little hats to me, so we got to see them in action. They're almost too pretty to use. Cousous and veggies (and lamb for the omnivores). It was so fantastic! One of the more "authentic" experiences yet.
Followed closely by my donning of the traditional Tuareg head scarf. I bought one at one of the many shops in the old city, thinking I'd give it to someone, but Salem (our security guy, pronounced "solemn", not like the cigarette) insisted on wrapping it up for me. It was kind of awesome, I'm digging the look. He was also wearing a scarf so we struck a pose for the cameras. I think all the old ladies in our group are crushing on him and his tight pants. He's becoming my homie on this trip, despite speaking about six words of English. Then the tables turned, and Libyans were taking pictures of ME. We ran into a group of teenage boys and all wanted their photo with me. Very cute. I would see them again later that evening.
As we wound our way through the districts of the old city, we'd pass a Japanese group every so often, filing past each other like opposing baseball teams exchanging forced pleasantries. I said konnichi wa and two ladies got all excited and held up the line.
Shoemaker in the shops
Then, at one of the many, many shopping stalls, we met a little boy named Mohammed, probably about two or three and the son of the craftsman. I got all Angelina Jolie and kind of wanted to take him home with me. The biggest brown eyes you've ever seen. Didn't make a sound, didn't move an inch. My kind of kid.
Now we are about to head out into the Sahara via 4x4 Jeeps to visit a haunted castle and watch the sunset. After that, it's dinner and a dance performance. I'm amped.
2:53 pm
Ghadames, Libya
Unlikely as it seemed at the outset, Ghadames just may be my favorite city so far. Reason #1: We've just returned to the hotel for a siesta, because the whole town shuts down until the evening to escape the afternoon heat. That's my kind of thinking.
The drive here yesterday from Tripoli was long, but not so arduous. To break up the journey, we made a couple of stops: an old granary and the little town of Nalut. Both had remarkably preserved and intricately constructed granaries, little storerooms built one on top of each other giving the overall effect of a giant anthill. Traditional Berber mud architecture, but it looked like a big sand dune with holes. I climbed up to peek inside the dark chambers, and some still contained amphoras, the large clay storage jars.
Qasr al-Haj
Nalut
The stretch of road between Nalut and Ghadames gave us our first real glimpse of the desert, the Grand Erg Oriental. These region is called the Jebel Nafusa. Rippling piles of sand, sun bleached plateaus, smatterings of palm trees around scant oases. And, several herds of stubborn camels crossing the road, stopping traffic. Watching a spooked camel gallop out of the way of a blaring horn never failed to amuse.
Mohammed leaving our hotel
We arrived in Ghadames at about 6:15 pm. The majority of the town shares the mudbrick architecture of the sites we saw en route. I've never really been to the southwest, but a number of people compared the two, especially the terrain. Our hotel just opened six months ago, part of The Colonel's directive to increase tourism. It's lovely here, not only clean and liveable (no saran wrap needed), but comfortable and architecturally interesting. Meant to mimic the style of the old city.
Which it does to a tee. This morning, after a visit to the Ghadames Museum and some requisite shopping, we walked through the labyrinth of covered mud brick walls and alleys that comprise the Old City. The entire area is a UNESCO World Heritage site. No one lives there now (though it was inhabited until just two or three years ago by a woman who insisted she was born there, she was going to die there). But, the homes are still privately owned and it's used as a retreat from the summer heat. Outer walls are about a meter thick, 90% of the spaces are covered, with just a few slots for light, so it feels air-conditioned.
Courtyard at Ghadames
It's really a visually amazing place -- emphasis on maze. Benches are built right into and of the same mud brick as the walls along the "streets", as are the bed platforms and tables in our hotel. There are mosques, schools, and meeting places. Daily life was incredibly, almost shockingly segregated (as it still is today... had to check my principles at the door). Regarding publicspaces, only men are allowed at the mosques and in the meeting places; women are confined to the top floor and THE ROOF. (Except for designated times at the mosque, where I think I heard our guide say their main purpose was to clean.)
Our lunch was a surprise. Rather than stopping at restaurant as usual, we were led to a fully decorated traditional home, still in use (at least as a tourist stop), with carpets and pillows lining the floor, mirrors, baskets, tapestries and other handicraft adorning the walls right up to the ceiling.
We sat on the cushioned floor to eat, and our meal was brought out on large round silver trays with legs. Five to a tray. One of the local craft specialities are these brightly woven conical food covers, though they look more like little hats to me, so we got to see them in action. They're almost too pretty to use. Cousous and veggies (and lamb for the omnivores). It was so fantastic! One of the more "authentic" experiences yet.
Followed closely by my donning of the traditional Tuareg head scarf. I bought one at one of the many shops in the old city, thinking I'd give it to someone, but Salem (our security guy, pronounced "solemn", not like the cigarette) insisted on wrapping it up for me. It was kind of awesome, I'm digging the look. He was also wearing a scarf so we struck a pose for the cameras. I think all the old ladies in our group are crushing on him and his tight pants. He's becoming my homie on this trip, despite speaking about six words of English. Then the tables turned, and Libyans were taking pictures of ME. We ran into a group of teenage boys and all wanted their photo with me. Very cute. I would see them again later that evening.
As we wound our way through the districts of the old city, we'd pass a Japanese group every so often, filing past each other like opposing baseball teams exchanging forced pleasantries. I said konnichi wa and two ladies got all excited and held up the line.
Shoemaker in the shops
Then, at one of the many, many shopping stalls, we met a little boy named Mohammed, probably about two or three and the son of the craftsman. I got all Angelina Jolie and kind of wanted to take him home with me. The biggest brown eyes you've ever seen. Didn't make a sound, didn't move an inch. My kind of kid.
Now we are about to head out into the Sahara via 4x4 Jeeps to visit a haunted castle and watch the sunset. After that, it's dinner and a dance performance. I'm amped.
04 April 2006
home!
got in to chicago yesterday afternoon. exhausted. exasperated. excited. got my ice cream and guacamole fix; sushi tomorrow. final report and the first batch of photos tomorrow, too.
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