Interesting Contrasts in Krakow, Poland

From Prague, we took a train to Krakow, Poland, which (along with Prague) has one of the few Old Towns in Europe that was not destroyed by bombs during World War II. While a bit more subdued than Prague, Krakow is also a very pleasant place to wander for a few days.

Here are some tourists walking through Old Town Krakow...















What I perhaps found most interesting, though, is a bit of a spiritual dichotomy that exists in the city. For one, Krakow is the nearest city to Auschwitz, the home of the World War II era concentration camp. It’s a very somber experience to tour Auschwitz. The dormitories where prisoners were housed in inhumane conditions. The cremation rooms and gas chambers where the Nazis pursued their goal of exterminating an entire race of people. And, most shockingly, the displays of piles and piles of shoes and suitcases and hairbrushes and human hair, all of which once belonged to human beings who were murdered by the Nazis for no other reason than their ethnicity.

I say Krakow has a spiritual dichotomy, though, because there is also a strong sense of spirituality in this city that is only miles from Auschwitz. It is the city where Karol Wojtyla served as Archbishop before he passed into history as Pope John Paul II, and memories of the late Pope are everywhere in town. Not only that, but Krakow has the unusual distinction of being the site of one of the world’s seven chakras, or energy centers (at least according to Hindu beliefs), along with such places as Jerusalem, Rome and Mecca. It’s a strange pairing of the best and the worst of humanity, you might say, for Krakow has seen perhaps the most hideous evil and some of the most vital spirituality of the past century.

A view of Auschwitz...

First Stop in Europe - Prague

After an overnight flight from Amman, Jordan, Lisa and I arrived in Prague to begin the final leg of our round-the-world journey. During our final three weeks on the road, our plan was to to make a loop of a few central European cities before ending the trip in Paris.

Our first reaction upon arriving in Prague was that it seemed so easy to travel in Europe. We landed at the airport, booked a room, took a bus, then a subway, and then finally walked a few blocks to our hotel – all without a single person talking to us, asking where we were from, or offering us a ride or a room or a good deal at their store. It was less exotic and exciting, to be sure, but after a few months of traveling in non-Western cultures, there was also a bit of relief at having our space back.

I was reminded, though, of a conversation I’d had with a young woman we’d met on a plane in India. She was from Bombay, but had spent the previous four years living in London. The hardest thing about living in the U.K., she told me, was that she had too much space and too little contact with other people. It felt uncomfortable to her to be left alone as much as she was in London. Lisa and I, of course, had the exact opposite reaction. It points out an interesting cultural difference between East and West – as Westerners, we tend to compartmentalize everything, including our space, while in the East there is much less of a concept of privacy or personal space.

As far as Prague itself, the city was amazing. I’d have to put it up there with Paris and Venice as being among the most beautiful cities in Europe. We especially loved the architecture of the Old Town, the sculptures and paintings and flowerboxes that seem to adorn every building. We toured Prague Castle, visited churches, wandered the streets, admired the view from the Charles Bridge, sat in the sunshine in the Old Town Square, sampled Czech beer and coffee, and spent an evening listening to a classical music concert in a centuries-old church. It was certainly a good city in which to be reintroduced to the West.

Here is a view of Prague Castle towering over the city...















And here is a corner of Prague's Old Town square...

The Ancient City of Petra

Since Egypt's Red Sea coast is very close to Jordan, it was hard to pass up a chance to visit the ancient city of Petra, so we arranged our itinerary to pass through Jordan and then fly to Europe out of Amman. The travel connections from Dahab to Petra seemed relatively straightforward - take a 10:30 am bus out of Dahab, catch an early afternoon fast ferry across the Red Sea's Gulf of Aqaba, be in Jordan by mid-afternoon, and then find a bus or other transport for the final two hour trip to Petra.

Well, if we've learned anything by now, it's that things aren't always what they seem. We soon discovered that this was destined to be another interesting travel day. First, Lisa and I arrived at the bus station at 10 am to find a variety of individuals telling us there was no bus that day and offering to sell us a minibus or taxi ride to the ferry. We'd seen enough of these scams by now to stick to our plans, and the bus did indeed show up, just a half-hour late. We made it to the ferry port at Nuweiba easily enough after that - except that no one seemed to be available to sell us a boat ticket. Eventually, a tourist policeman herded us and eight other travelers into the departure hall, where we had our passports stamped and were taken to the boat. There, we discovered that the fast ferry wasn't running on this day (for real) - and only the slow ferry was available, which meant a three-hour ride instead of a one-hour trip . Oh well. We were finally able to buy tickets on the ship and so we settled in at about 1 pm for the journey.

Actually, no. First we looked for seats, but saw that there were none available. We wandered the decks for a half-hour, stepping over entire families who were sleeping on the floor or crouched in the corners. We learned there were 900 passengers on the ship - Lisa and me, two other Americans, four Europeans, two Korean girls (we know - we met them all), and apparently 890 or so Egyptians, Jordanians and Saudis. Eventually, we managed to find a table in a self-service restaurant. And so we waited. And waited some more. The ferry didn't leave at 1 pm, as we were told, but at 3:30. And it wasn't a three-hour ride, but a four-and-a-half hour trip.

We met an older Danish couple on board who had done this ferry ride before. "It's just Egypt," they told us. "Everything runs a lot smoother in Jordan."

O.K., so instead of arriving in Aqaba, Jordan in mid-afternoon, we actually got there at 8 p.m. And by the time we got off the boat and through immigration, it was 8:45. All the buses to Petra were long since departed, so our only remaining choice was to negotiate a taxi ride. Surprisingly, this was the easiest part of our day. In about 30 seconds, we were able to book a ride at exactly the lowest price recommended by Lonely Planet. As we set off for the two-hour drive to Petra (or to Wadi Musa, the village nearest to Petra), our taxi driver joked with us.

"Look, our streets our clean and orderly. Not like in Egypt. Look, I'm stopping at a red light. Not like in Egypt. Hahaha."

Actually, I thought, he's right. Other than Singapore, this was the first time in two months we'd seen anything resembling orderly traffic. Interesting. Then, a half-hour later, the taxi driver even stopped at a roadside drink stand and bought us a cup of tea. For free. I was beginning to like Jordan. Two problem-free hours later, we were at our hotel.

Lisa and I spent the next two days exploring the ancient city of Petra, which was originally constructed two millennia ago by the Nabateans. Although not nearly as well known as the Egyptian Pyramids, Petra is still one of the more remarkable sights you're ever likely to see. The temples and tombs of this vanished city are cut right out of the rock walls of mountains.

Here is a photo of the Treasury, which is the most spectacular sight at Petra and is only reachable by a half-mile walk through a narrow gorge. Fans of the Indiana Jones movies might recognize this place, which was featured in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade"...




















Here is a view of the Treasury from above, reached after another 45-minute hike...
















The sights of Petra are spread over a wide area, so Lisa and I did a lot of walking in the August heat during those two days. But it was well worth it. There is another structure similar to the Treasury (called the Monastery); countless tombs, from the spectacular to the mundane; a large amphitheater; a colonnaded street built in later centuries by the Romans, and various temples. Once again, we were left to gaze at the talents of people who preceded us by two or three thousand years, and to ponder the centuries-long emptiness of yet another ancient city.

Meanwhile, the time we spent in Wadi Musa was also notable, particularly because of the friendliness of the people. After three weeks of travel in Egypt and Jordan, we had yet to hear an anti-American sentiment and, in fact, most people we met were unusually welcoming. One night at a restaurant, two local men moved to a different table so that Lisa and I, as guests in town, could have the better seats. In Petra one day, we met a teenage boy who asked where we were from. When we told him, he said, "Ah, U.S.! U.S. is cool!" And another day, while hiking at Petra, I came across a Bedouin shepherd who offered a cup of tea from the pot he was boiling over an open fire.

When it was time to leave town, Lisa and I headed to the local bus station in order to find transport to Amman. The only problem, we learned, is that there was no schedule for buses from Wadi Musa to Amman. Sometimes a minibus was available, sometimes not. On this day, there was no bus. But we quickly found a service taxi (a shared ride in a private taxi) and so headed off on one more three-hour road trip, this time with a driver who spoke no English and an opthalmologist from Amman. Once again, though, both of them were incredibly friendly. When he dropped us off, the elderly taxi driver gave me a high-five. It was perfectly emblematic of many of the people we had met in this region.

But now this part of the trip was over. The journey was winding down, with just a few weeks left, and we were off to Europe. Next stop: Prague.

Chilling in Dahab

Our final Egyptian stop was in Dahab, on the Red Sea coast. Once the van left us at our hotel, we were done with drivers and tour guides and were completely on our own again. Dahab was quite an interesting place to relax for a few days. The town was just a one-and-a-half hours away from where the terrorist attacks had taken place in Sharm El Sheikh, for one thing. Moreover, from the center of town we could look across the water and see the mountainous coast of Saudi Arabia, which turned a beautiful shade of pink in the sunset. Nevertheless, Dahab seemed a world away from, well, the world. It's a Bedouin village that has been overtaken by tourism but, for the moment at least, it’s still remarkably quaint and peaceful.

The days there were calm and relaxed. We could walk the entire length of the town in about 20 minutes. The waters of the Red Sea were a brilliant, shimmering blue. Lisa and I booked a $28 hotel room with a balcony that overlooked the sea. There were restaurants along the shore where visitors could sit on cushions and have a drink, watching the waves drift by for hours. Local Bedouins sold camel rides along the beach. The snorkeling and diving there is among the best in the world, with an unbelievable variety of colorful fish. The Egyptian people were friendly and sociable. We met a university student (Mohammed) who asked us to help him with his English and, in return, he talked to us about Egyptian culture and life. When he heard that Lisa had just had a birthday, he even showed up the next day with a gift for her.

Perhaps Dahab wasn’t the most obvious place to relax after the previous week’s events, but it was actually one of the more relaxing beach towns we’ve ever visited. We stayed there for five nights and could have easily spent twice as long there.

Experiencing a camel ride on the beach...















Mohammed, the university student who asked us to help him with his English...

Sunrise on Mt. Sinai

Once we decided that we were going to stay in Egypt, the next stop for us was St. Catherine. To get there, we took another overnight train out of Luxor. The next morning, we arrived in Cairo at 6:30 a.m. Then, with a bit of concern, we watched as other travelers left the station and were met by prearranged drivers, until finally we were the only passengers left standing on the platform. At that point, an armed guard came up and asked if we were waiting for a ride.

“Yes.”

“What nationality are you? English?” he asked.

I hesitated. “No, American,” I said.

“American?! Aye!” he nearly shouted.

“Welcome to our country,” chimed in a second person.

Suddenly, walkie talkies crackled to life. All we heard was a string of Arabic sentences, laced several times with the word “American.”

“Come,” the first officer said and motioned for us to follow him.

Well, we had little choice. We weren’t quite sure what was going on at first, but they merely escorted us to the front entrance of the train station. They politely asked for the name and number of our scheduled driver and then one of the soldiers went off to phone him. Then they waited with us until we were safely in the van and on our way. Once we realized what was happening, it didn't seem like such a bad thing to have our own security detail.

Shortly thereafter, we left Cairo, leaving behind a sea of brown buildings and drab, hazy skies. Then we drove for six hours, past Suez and into the Sinai, through a dry, empty desert landscape that became progressively more rugged and lunar-like. For a land that has very little vegatation, the Sinai is an important and strategic piece of land. It serves as a bridge between Asia and Africa and between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean. In early afternoon, we arrived at St. Catherine, a small village whose claim to fame is that it’s located at the base of Mt. Sinai, the biblical mountain where Moses is said to have received the Ten Commandments from God. A popular activity is to hike the mountain in the predawn hours and watch the sun rise from atop Mt. Sinai.

That afternoon, Lisa and I went for a walk in town and, strangely, failed to run into a single other traveler. Hence, when we got up at 2 a.m. to head over to Mt. Sinai, we wondered if we were destined to be lone travelers hiking the trail in the dark, chasing the spirit of Moses. However, we soon discovered dozens of other people in the vicinity, including a large group of French travelers who had come on a tour bus in the night. From 2:45 to 5:15 a.m., then, we navigated our way by flashlight up a rocky path that climaxed in a steep set of several hundred steps cut into the rocks. Along the way, we were kept company by Bedouin tribespeople who hawked hot tea, cold coke and camel rides in the moonlight.

Finally, atop the rocky summit of Mt. Sinai, we sat down to rest our aching legs and await the dawn. The sky inched its way out of blackness, with a swatch of red-orange light peeking over the horizon and glowing steadily brighter for several minutes, until suddenly the sun made a dramatic appearance – an orb of fiery brilliance climbing above the mountainous peaks of the Sinai to a round of applause and gasps. There we were, atop Mt. Sinai at sunrise, and for a moment at least the specter of terrorism seemed far away.

Here is Lisa with other hikers, waiting for the sunrise atop Mt. Sinai...
















the hike back down the mountain...

Terrorism in Egypt

What is the proper reaction to a terrorist attack in a foreign country, when you just happen to be traveling in that country on the day the bombs explode? Should you leave immediately? Or, if you decide to stay, is it even possible to go on with your trip as if nothing happened?

Lisa and I, along with thousands of other travelers, were faced with those questions in the aftermath of the terrorist bombings at Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt. We were in a different city when the attacks happened and were not in any danger from those particular incidents, but it’s nevertheless an odd and unsettling feeling to know that the bombs were specifically targeted at a tourist resort in a country where we were tourists.

On the day of the bombings, we were in Luxor. That morning, after breakfast, we went out to meet the guide who would take us to Karnak Temple. When we saw Mohammed, though, he immediately said to us: “Did you see the news? There was a terrorist bombing during the night in Sharm El Sheikh. Three bombs. More than 60 people killed.”

It’s always shocking to hear news of any such attack. Even when we are not in London or Madrid or Bali or New York, it’s impossible to not be moved by the tragedy and appalled by the senselessness of the violence. But not only were Lisa and I in Egypt when this happened, we also happened to be on our way to the Sinai peninsula the very next day. In fact, as recently as four days earlier we’d been debating whether to go to Sharm El Sheikh or Dahab, two contrasting tourist towns on the Red Sea coast.

So there we were, standing alongside the Nile River, about to visit Karnak, the greatest temple complex of ancient Egypt, and our guide was telling us there had been a terrorist attack during the night in another region of the country. We looked around at the street and the river. Nothing seemed any different. If we hadn’t been told this news, it would have appeared like any other day. But we had heard the news, and that changed everything.

“It is very tragic,” said Mohammed, “but you should go on with the tour. There is more security here today, it will be very safe. It would be sad to miss Karnak. You should focus on the moment.”

We decided to listen to him and so for the next few hours we toured Karnak Temple. As the morning wore on, though, and the desert sun grew more intense overhead, Mohammed opened up a bit and grew more introspective.

“This is not a war against the West,” he said to us, “this is a war against humankind. These are the worst kind of Muslims who do these acts. They are using their religion for bad aims. In Egypt, we believe in a tolerant Islam. I don’t know what kind of people can do this, to kill people like this!”

At another moment, he swept his arm around. “Look at all of these boats on the river. They may all be empty soon, if tourists don’t come to Egypt. And these merchants, and taxi drivers and restaurants. So many people rely on tourism to make a living. It is sad.”

“Do you think there may be another attack,” asked Lisa. “Are you afraid? Is it dangerous?

“Ah, what is dangerous?” whispered Mohammed. “You can have danger in your home or crossing the street. You must live your life, I think.”

That is the very question we had to ask ourselves, of course. And soon. What is dangerous? There had been a terrorist attack aimed at tourists. Was it safe to remain in Egypt, or was it crazy? Should we live our lives, or should we flee? News reports later indicated that perhaps half the tourists in Egypt did leave in the day or two after the bombings. But a sizeable number also chose to remain in the country. Some of them just assumed there wouldn’t be a second attack; others refused to give in to the terror (like the woman we met on the train later that evening who said, “I don’t like to be bullied by terrorists”); and some were just hardened to terrorism in general after a string of attacks in all parts of the world (“where you can consider yourself safe now, anyway?” was a question that we heard often in the days ahead).

As Lisa and I discussed the situation, we knew that our options were limited a bit by the fact that we weren’t scheduled to fly out of Cairo. Our plans were to go to the Sinai, then travel overland to Jordan and finally fly out of Amman. We of course always had the option of spending money to purchase a new ticket, but it was less easy to change our existing itinerary. We naturally wanted to be smart and safe, but we also knew by now that there had been a second attempt to terrorize London and so we couldn’t be certain anymore that we’d be safer in Europe than in Egypt. Actually, the only thing we knew for sure was that certainty was out the window.

In the end, after much discussion, we decided to stay. I’d like to say that it was a heroic decision, that we wanted to live our lives and not be bullied, and, yes, we certainly carried some of that sentiment inside. But we still would have put our safety first had we felt seriously threatened. There was no single reason for our decision, but rather a web of interconnected reasons. For one, we didn’t feel unsafe among the Egyptians, who had been friendly and welcoming to us. We knew there was always the threat of another attack, but we also knew the odds were no better here than somewhere in Europe or the U.S. And we had checked into various transport options and realized it was actually easier for us to go forward with our itinerary than to go back and try to change our plans. So we stayed in Egypt.

We were far from alone in this decision. There were many other tourists around, although the numbers had dropped significantly and the businesspeople who relied on the tourist trade were despairing. In their anguish, however, some of them opened up and spoke with us in a way that they might never have otherwise.

“Foolish people, those terrorists!” said one merchant to us. “Why kill? Why? It is crazy!”

“You are Christian, I am Muslim,” said another person. “But we both have blood, we are both human beings. This is not Islam, to kill like this.”

To be honest, it was easy for Lisa and me to feel a bit self conscious when we first heard the news about the bombings. After all, we are citizens of a country that has enraged many Muslims with its policies, particularly the decision to go to war in Iraq. It would be easy, we thought, for the Egyptians to be furious with America and Americans. But that is not what we discovered.

“Look,” said one person, “it is true that we don’t like Bush. Or Cheney. Or maybe Condoleeza or Rumsfeld. And we don’t like decision to go to war in Iraq. But American people we like. People are not government. We know there is a difference.”

“We like American people,” was a constant refrain from individuals with whom we spoke. “Americans are very welcome in our country.”

In the end, we were safe and were glad that we stayed in Egypt. We had some great experiences during the following week-and-a-half and had some conversations with locals that might not have been possible under normal circumstances. It’s a small gift, but we’ll take it. As Mohammed told us in Luxor, we need to focus on the moment and live our life. That may have been the best lesson from our entire trip.

Ancient Egyptian Temples Along the Nile

Egypt has such an incredible wealth of history, temples and ruins. Many of these historic sites are located along the Nile River, either in or close to the city of Luxor (the ancient city of Thebes). In order to see some of these ruins, Lisa and I booked a three-night Nile River cruise that went from Aswan to Luxor. For this part of our trip, we organized everything through a tour agent, the only time in our round-the-world journey that we hadn't made all the arrangements independently. The package deal included a driver, our rail transportation, the boat trip, and an Egyptologist guide for four days, for not much more money than it would have cost us to book it all in sections.

In order to join the Nile cruise, we first had to take an overnight train from Cairo down to Aswan, where we boarded the boat. The train was pretty nice, better than the ones we had used in either Vietnam or India. Once in Aswan, we spent some time touring local sights, including the Temple of Philae, and were able to take a felucca ride (sailboat) on the Nile. We spent the next three nights on board the boat, stopping along the way to see the Temples of Edfu and Kom Ombo. It was a nice way to not only visit these temples, but also to experience the Nile. When you see the villages along the river, and notice how the belt of green farmland by the water contrasts with the dry desert landscape beyond, it is easy to appreciate how the Nile River truly is the heart of Egypt.

The final two days of our tour were spent in Luxor, where the most magnificent ancient monuments are located. These include the royal tombs in the Valley of the Kings, and the Karnak and Luxor temples, among other sites. It's a bit mind-boggling to contemplate the achievements of the ancient Egyptians in building all of these temples and tombs. Many of them are at least a thousand years older even than the ruins of classical Greece, and the size and detail of some of the monuments is astounding.

Here is a partial view of the front wall of the Temple of Edfu. Can you see Lisa in the pink shirt down in front?



And here is a painting that is thousands of years old on a wall at Karnak Temple. Notice the hieroglyphics in the upper part of the painting...

How big are the Pyramids?

In case you're wondering how big the Pyramids really are, this might give you some idea...

Pyramids at twilight

Here is a photo of the Pyramids as the sun is setting...

Cairo and the Pyramids

After Singapore, Lisa and I flew to Egypt to begin exploring a completely different part of the world. We had spent some time in Turkey three years ago, but still had no idea what to expect in the three weeks we were planning to spend traveling through Egypt and Jordan. It turned out to be quite an interesting experience, as this region has some of the most amazing historical treasures on the planet, along with some of the friendliest people we've met anywhere.

Our Egyptian journey began in Cairo. We decided to treat ourselves a bit, to make up for all of the budget traveling we'd been doing. Also, it was low season in Egypt (100 degree daily temperatures don't exactly attract lots of tourists), and we found a deal at Le Meridien Pyramids that was more than 60% off the rack rate. So we settled into the first really nice hotel of our trip, one that had a pool overlooking the Pyramids.

The most interesting aspect of our stay at Le Meridien might actually have been the mix of people that we saw. We'd sit by the pool and watch European women stroll by in string bikinis, right alongside Arab women who were covered from head to toe in black. Many of these women had children and Lisa remarked how interesting it was that half of these kids thought it was perfectly normal to not even see their mother's face in public, while the other half thought it was perfectly normal to see most of their mother's body exposed. Meanwhile, a small band played a varied and unusual mixture of songs by the bar ("Hotel California"), and in the background the 4,500 year old Pyramids loomed over the entire scene. It was a curious mingling of cultures and centuries.

Of course, we did tear ourselves away from the pool in order to explore Cairo and the Pyramids. Often described as the world's oldest tourist attraction, the Pyramids somehow manage to live up to their hype. Amazingly, they were in place 2,500 years before Christ, which is even further removed from that biblical age then we are today. Standing in front of these ancient monuments, it's difficult to imagine how people 45 centuries ago managed to pile these immense blocks one on top of the other and to do it with such precision.

We spent an entire afternoon wandering among the Pyramids and the Sphinx, and then went back in the evening for a sound and light show. Although we also spent some time touring the city of Cairo and the Egyptian Museum, the Pyramids were without a doubt the highlight of our visit to the Egyptian capital.

Here is a photo of Lisa in front of the Sphinx and one of the Pyramids...