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In Search of…Part 23 – Switzerland

Posted in Identity, Magic, Philosophy, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged "In Search of", Fribourg, Friendship, Geneva, history, old memories, Spirituality, Switzerland on April 16, 2014| 8 Comments »

image from http://www.josephinewallart.co.uk

“If you want to find the trail, if you want to find yourself, you must explore your dreams alone. You must grow at a slow pace in a dark cocoon of loneliness so you can fly like wind, like wings, when you awaken.”
― Francesca Lia Block, Dangerous Angels

After our leisurely start to the day “P” and I set off in glorious sunshine, with the top down and Sasha, the pooch ensconced in the back. The air was so crisp, the wind brisk, despite the breeze from our travel I didn’t feel in the least cold. It was invigorating and brought back memories of England.

I had absolutely no idea where we were or where we were going, apart from the promise that I would be dropped off at my hotel in Fribourg. One stretch of our journey took us along a winding mountain road. There was a stream on my left, and I could hear the water rushing along over the sound of the wind in my hair. On my right was the mountain.

Snowmelt rushing down the mountain

So cold and white as the water rushes away

A taste of a winter wonderland

Suddenly, I saw the water rushing down the mountain, pure snowmelt, cascading over the ground towards the stream on my left. We pulled over to the side of the narrow road, just before a quaint wooden bridge where the water ran underneath. The roar of the water as it finally went under the bridge and joined the stream was louder than I expected. I could imagine the side of the mountain suddenly slipping down and washing everything away. The smell of ice crystals in the air was amazing.

Further along the snowmelt had made the road impassable and we carefully turned around and backtracked until we found another road to turn onto. Asked about lunch I realised the fresh air had made me hungry and we made our way to a small town in the mountains, Neuchâtel, and had a beautiful cheese fondue, for which the town is famous. Once again, gazing around at the scenery, it all seemed surreal, the backdrop to a movie. Everywhere I looked I saw either verdant green pasture or higher up, the snow-capped mountains. It felt like a peaceful interlude and I was truly grateful that “P” had brought me here.

View from Neuchatel

Channeling the water

Winding through the mountains

It was a wonderful gesture, a gesture of true friendship. “P” had asked me what my plans were in Switzerland, especially Fribourg, which isn’t really on the main tourist route. I had made arrangements to meet up with friends there, however, just before I left Athens I received an email to let me know they had a family emergency and had to leave, an absence which they were unable to return from before I had to leave.

We finally arrived in Fribourg at day’s end and as “P” helped me get my bag out of the car he made me promise to return to Geneva early if I was lonely. Checking in to the hotel I found I was feeling tired, another first, which I put down to the bracing air and the car with the top down. After settling in and a light snack, once I curled up in bed to read I fell quickly asleep.

Cathedral of St. Nicholas, Fribourg

Saint Nicholas

Winding cobblestone street, Fribourg

The next ten days past swiftly as I wandered around the ancient town. Part of Fribourg is French whilst across the Sarine River is the German-speaking area of Switzerland. The Bern Bridge is completely covered and the only wooden bridge left today.

As I walked around I saw amazing examples of architecture from many different eras. The Cathedral of Saint Nicholas seemed to draw me almost every day. It has been the Cathedral of the diocese of Lausanne, Geneva and Fribourg since 1945.

The narrow cobbled streets and cafes made it a beautiful place to stop for coffee and watch the world roll by. The time seemed drawn out and at the same time condensed as I was swept away in daydreams. Each day I would end my trip with a walk to the Zaehringen Bridge, 165m long over the Sarine River. Gazing at it I was always drawn to the cliff face and the sight of the many buildings clinging precariously to the edge. It seemed to embody the tenacity to survive that you can sometimes see when there seems no logical reason for them to be able to survive the winters for those many hundreds of years.

Fish Fountain, Fribourg

165m spann bridge, Fribourg

Justic Fountain, Lausanne

Only a short train ride from Fribourg was Lausanne, a beautiful city with the towering Notre Dame and Lausanne Cathedral. It is actually a city in Romandy, the French-speaking part of Switzerland. There are so many incredible buildings, historical buildings of note that I had a crick in my neck trying to take it all in. The gardens in the centre of town were full of spring flowers.

I saw “P” and his friend one day in Lausanne. He had called the hotel and asked if I would like to meet there for lunch, and even though I had been there only a few days before it was delightful to go back and have a relaxing lunch in one of the many cafes. The trains are so quiet and fast in Switzerland that I was back in Fribourg in little time. A quick trip to see the bridge and I was back at the hotel for the evening.

Lakeside Walk, Marina, Lake Geneva

The Metropolitan Museum, Geneva

Swan nesting on the bank of Lake Geneva

As agreed I left Fribourg early to stay in Geneva. The more metropolitan air was so different after Fribourg and as I walked around Lake Geneva I spent many hours pondering the differences we feel about certain places as we “travel through life”. I sat and watched the swans in their nest on the bank of Lake Geneva. Their regal bearing has always enchanted me and to see them so close, after such a long time was truly magical. I could see the Alps surrounding Geneva, felt the special quality in the air that only the Alpine air could provide and became lost in daydreams, or were they memories?

I saw ladies in ankle length gowns, men in tailored suits, walking leisurely around the lake. I heard the quietly spoken conversations, which must have been in French and yet I understood what they were saying. I felt as though I was walking along with someone, looking out of someone’s eyes, and seeing these things as though I was there. I could see the old gaslights being lit along the walkway as the light began to fade.

Grand old building, Geneva

Beautiful Magnolias

I finally came back to myself, realising that I was going to be late meeting “P” if I didn’t hurry. It was strange, but hurry did not seem to be a word to use in Switzerland and I knew he wouldn’t mind if I was late. None the less, this was my last night in Geneva and I had to leave the next morning to begin my journey home.

We once again talked late into the night, but this time I asked to be woken early so that we could make our way to the airport without worrying about traffic problems, which he said were common in peak hours. Just like any big city!

Alphorn farewelling me at Fribourg Station

Flowers everywhere along Lake Geneva’s shore

Swiss Alps, always beautiful

Leaving was smooth and effortless and as the cloudbank hid the land beneath me I caught one last majestic sight of the mountains, as their snow-capped heads rose above even the clouds.

Next week – Going Home

Blessings, Susan ♥

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In Search of….Part 22, Athens and Geneva

Posted in Gratitude, Identity, Life, Philosophy, Spiritual, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged "In Search of", Athens, Energies, Finding myself, Geneva, going within, Higher Self, Lake Geneva, trusting intuition on April 9, 2014| 6 Comments »

image from http://www.josephinewallart.co.uk

“There is only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that’s your own self.” – Aldous Huxley

The departure from Israel was much smoother than anything to date. So smooth that I thought I was dreaming, or perhaps it simply didn’t worry me any longer. I was catching a plane to Athens, so perhaps that made the difference? Whatever the reason, I was ensconced in a delightful business class seat and the trip was relaxing and I zoned out fairly quickly.

On my arrival in Athens I stowed my “extra’ baggage in short-term storage. The guys there were so helpful and it was quickly done. It was certainly easier moving around with just one bag!

Athens was a brief stop. A few days to catch my breath and reacquaint myself with the Acropolis and the sites around town. I was still very much in my introspective state and was aware of the energies as I wandered around. I was still in this wonderful place of accepting whatever happened and the expanded feel of energy as I wandered around was magical.

The remains of the Temple of Zeus

Another photo of the Acropolis

Athens by night, a magic all of its own

Even though I had only a small amount of time I felt no urging to run around trying to see everything. It was more important to capture the feel of the places I visited. I saw the Acropolis and Parthenon again, the National Gardens, and Syntagma Square. It was a peaceful bubble amidst the hustle and bustle of the frenetic pace of Athens.

The National Gardens, Athens

A view of My Lycabettus

Changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in SYntagma Square

I was leaving Athens for another unknown experience, Geneva and eventually Fribourg, Switzerland.

I was meeting a friend in Geneva, someone I met through an overseas Pen Pal site a few years earlier. Still it was a little nerve-wracking as I asked him how I would pick him out of the crowd. “Just look for the pink shirt” I was advised, and I must admit it didn’t really help with the nervous anticipation. At least I only had one bag to “man handle” and I went through the airport so quickly I wondered what was happening. The Swiss seemed so “laid back” after the high tension of the Middle East.

The BMW 6 series fast and hot!

As I left the airport proper, not having seen my friend, I saw this very tall person who looked exactly like his photos, dressed in a pink shirt next to his hot car. His two door BMW had the top down and I could see the beautiful face of a Sky Terrier peering over the seat. Oh – heaven and sadness all at once. I realised I must have looked a fright in my very casual but comfortable travel wear. However, that’s how I was and it made me, in my joggers, look like a dwarf next to my six-foot six tailored friend. Suitcase stowed away we set off – WITHOUT SEATBELTS FASTENED!

I was horrified and bemused as he explained that they weren’t used, unless the police were around. (But there was one, at least an ex-police officer, in the car!). The drive was exhilarating as we sped (yes sped) along the main road through the byways of Geneva to reach his home. As the car stopped outside this innocuous home, where I had agreed to spend the night, I was feeling a little apprehensive but so relaxed at the brisk temperature and the beautiful sight of spring bulbs in flower. Memories on England sped through my mind.

image from Bloggiesabroad.com

Image by beautyminute.netToo fast for photographs!

image from schwingeninswitzerland.wordpress.com

Through the front door I was given my next breath-taking surprise. The entrance was so deceptive and inside I found a veritable mansion. I felt so under dressed, and in need of a shower and an elegant dress. Well the shower was easy, but the dress not so easy. All my good clothes which I had carried around needlessly were now in storage at the airport! So I settled for a good change of clothes and some reasonable shoes and made myself ready to find my way through this enormous house to the computer room.

Since he was in the computer business, in a large way I should add, there were computers on computers and at least six working machines. By that I mean all going on different programs. It was an enormous array and he could follow all of them. (Feeling very below par as I struggle to get my computer to do basic things for me.)

Beautiful but deceptive entrance

Flowers in the lawn, a new meaning to flower gardens

A big difference from the entrance

I had my next surprise over freshly brewed coffee. I had totally lost track of days and dates and arrived there expecting just another Friday. Yes it was, but it was also Good Friday, and everything was closed. (Great timing Susan). After a few phone calls we were faced with the fact that dinner in Geneva was out of the question. Not a problem I was told, we will go to France for dinner! What?! France! How! We drive over the border, just bring your passport.

So we set off for France. Now I admit I am geographically challenged and I had no idea where I was going. Of course France and Switzerland share the same border. A short drive in the twilight and we had crossed the border without any fuss. Drat! I had not been able to get my passport stamped in Geneva (not done due to their status) and because we weren’t stopped, no French stamp either. Oh well. My next surprise was the number of dogs allowed inside the restaurant. It seemed almost every other table had a pooch sitting quietly under the table – or next to it.

image from nickhardcastle.wordpress.com

It was a big day and due to my insomnia issue I was still wide awake when we returned to his home. We watched clips on the hoax or not of the Twin Towers and the plight of Palestinians and the harshness of the Israelis. It was an interesting evening to say the very least. After a final cup of coffee, very late in the morning I actually felt a little sleepy – jet lag I assumed. I was advised to take a glass of water with me as he would be setting all the house alarms and once in the bedroom wing, the door would be alarmed.

I was alarmed – I am a night wanderer and I was being told I would be in one tiny wing of bedrooms and unable to leave. No! I trusted this gentleman and would have to content myself with iPod and book! The slate shower was much colder to enter so late in the morning as it had absorbed the chill from the air, but the hot water was magnificent. The bed was so soft and warm under the doona that I eventually fell asleep.

Unbelievable! I slept in! Not only did I sleep in, it was 9am when I woke up! I was so embarrassed and hurried to get ready so I could leave my room and see my host, who had volunteered to drive me to Fribourg rather than catch the train. Yet it was no trouble, I had a leisurely breakfast with more freshly brewed coffee, an entrancing walk through the grounds of his house, entranced by all the spring bulbs growing freely throughout his lawn before we decided to leave and head for Fribourg.

We drove with the top down all the way, but it’s what happened along the way that was so unexpected.

Next week…..Fribourg and Home.

Blessings, Susan ♥

If you would like to read more of the story, here ar a few of the earlier parts to the story….

In search of… Part 21

In Search of…Part 20

In Search of…Part 19

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In Search of…Part 21, Back to Tel Aviv

Posted in Identity, Life, Life lessons, Self Development, Soul Growth, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged "In Search of", #spiritual awakening, ancient lands, BEing present, Caesarea, finding your purpose, Healing, Israel, New Beginnings, revelations, Tel Aviv, The Holy Land on April 1, 2014| 9 Comments »

image from http://www.josephinewallart.co.uk

“The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them” ― Thomas Merton, No Man Is an Island

“The most adventurous journey to embark on; is the journey to yourself, the most exciting thing to discover; is who you really are, the most treasured pieces that you can find; are all the pieces of you, the most special portrait you can recognize; is the portrait of your soul.” ― C. JoyBell C.

It was much sadder than I had anticipated, saying goodbye to the people who had shared my journey of self-discovery as we toured the Middle East. I began my journey alone and fleeing from a situation I needed to put into perspective. I had learned so much as we travelled these ancient lands and found a friend when I least expected to do so. Yet my journey was not yet done.

The trip back to Tel Aviv was not without dramas, but then, after so many airports I had no expectations that it would be any different. I was no longer part of a tour group. Yes, I had my trip planned to go back to Tel Aviv but I was a single traveller once more, with no guide to wend an easy path through the departure rigmarole, and no-one speaking English within sight or sound. So it was with relief that I finally emerged through Israeli customs and was met by my driver to take me back to my hotel.

For two weeks I spent my time wandering through Tel Aviv and Jaffa and reacquainting myself with those people I had met when I first arrived. I went back to Caesarea and sat gazing out to sea wondering what the many people who had lived there had thought when their time came to leave. (That is not discounting the many people who have remained in the area all this time and still call it home, but of the “invaders”, that is a different story.) Of them, not many had chosen to leave voluntarily.

Ruins at Caesarea

Crusader tunnel Caesarea

Outside the Crusader tunnels, Caeserea

At one point I found myself perched on one of the large column blocks, not thinking, mind just drifting along in a sudden period of silence. I suddenly felt held in place by some unseen force as I heard a “clanking” all around me – a sound I recognised as the sound chain mailed and armoured bodies make as they walk around. There was the smell of the ocean strong in my nose, then overtaken by the coppery smell of blood. Ships were in the harbour, a forest of trees as the masts swayed in the ocean swell, waiting to take the remaining crusaders to safety. The fighting had been intense and the casualties too high.

As I sat there mesmerised, I saw a mailed hand descend on my shoulder.

The voice belonging to that mailed glove said, “Come now, Bertrand, there is nothing more to be done here. It is time to leave. We have been given our orders”.

From within the space where I sat another crusader rose to stand beside his lifelong friend. As I watched they hurriedly descended through the tunnels to the docks. I felt a pull from somewhere deep inside as if I was meant to go along too. Finally I saw them in the boats being shepherded out to the waiting ships. The relief that they both made it as far as the ships was overwhelming. As they left my sight the sounds and smells of the day seemed to suddenly crowd in again.

Was I day dreaming or did something just happen? Was I shown a glimpse of the past or was it a glimpse of another life? All I know for certain is there was an intense connection with Bertrand as he sat on the column, one which pulled me along with him as they left the garrison. One which allowed me to feel how heavy his heart was at leaving this place and the loss he felt with the death of a dear friend.

I left later, still somewhat dazed by the revelations of the day. In some strange way I felt part of myself had been there on that day and my drive home I felt as if I was on the high seas. Incredible!

The often otherworldly experiences as I had walked these ancient lands had been making a profound change within me. After my return, instead of following the glam and glitter of the nightclub scene I was offered by my friends, I chose to remain alone much of the time.

Tel Aviv Boulevard

We still met for coffee at the beautiful venues along the Tel Aviv esplanade when we could, always entranced by this incredible area. I wandered the Ha Carmel markets and visited the large shopping centres, seeing a life so similar to the everyday that one almost forgot the armed security guards at each entrance. I wandered Ben- Gurion Avenue and saw the home of David and Paula Ben Gurion. David Ben Gurion was the first Prime Minister of Israel. The somewhat unimpressive exterior hides their home which they lived in until 1970. The upstairs rooms, all four, were floor to ceiling books, 20,000 of them!

Ben Gurion House, Tel Aviv

The Ben Gurion House Library

Ben Gurion house at Sde Boker kibbutz in the Negev

Oh for a library of that calibre. I often forgot to take photos on these meanderings and this is a picture of their kibbutz home I saw there which shows the vast difference between their old home and the place they spent the remainder of their days.

Image from triptoisrael2006.blogspot.com Ben Gurion Boulevard

In the evenings I again resumed my walks to Jaffa and then sat on the esplanade enjoying the ocean breeze. The beautiful weather had been a tremendous gift whilst I had been there and the sunsets were something I would always remember. At those times it seemed as though a special light, a Spiritual light, was healing all the broken parts inside me and leaving me feeling at peace. There is no other way to describe the feeling of serenity with which I would leave after the sunset and head back to my hotel for a latte in the lounge. The girls there spoilt me with their generosity.

The feelings of a deep peace and a blossoming of my Spirit gave me a belief that there was so much more than this everyday existence we often become bogged down in. The majestic expansiveness of life, the mystery of past, present and future, all being available if we but allow it, was a blessing I had not imagined nor expected to find here. I realised that there was far more for me to do in this lifetime, and thoughts of leaving it behind became like dim memories.

Glorious sunset over the Mediterranean.

The time came to leave Tel Aviv all too soon and it was with a very heavy heart that I packed my bags once more.

Leaving brought one unpleasant reality to the fore. I had over packed before I left and with all the pieces I had acquired on my travels, for myself (of course), and my family, I had far too much luggage to take with me to Athens and then Switzerland. Pragmatism came to the fore and when I repacked, I did so with the intention of leaving one case in storage at the Athens airport. It was far less expensive than paying excess baggage!

A HINT for anyone travelling overseas, Check ALL the countries/airlines baggage allowances before you leave and pack for the least amount allowed. It is not only easier on the back it is far less expensive on the pocket!

Whilst sad to be leaving, and feeling certain there was more I could learn, of a personal and spiritual nature, I was looking forward to my quick visit to Athens whilst I made my way to my friend in Geneva. There was a certainty that my time there would be as fruitful to my yearning to learn my spiritual reason for being here, and so with mixed feelings I left.

The Old Town, Jerusalem

Awe Inspiring Abu Simbel

The Siq, Petra

A snapshot of the wonders of these ancient lands.

Israel will always remain a special and wonderful time in my life, a time when uncertainty and pain were replaced with a belief and surety that life has more meaning than our everyday existence.

Next Week…….Geneva and Switzerland.

Blessings, Susan ♥

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In Search of….Part 20 Petra to Amman

Posted in Identity, Life, Photography, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged "In Search of", #identity, #Petra, #travel, Al Karak, Amman, Crusader fortress, Farewells, Holy Land Mosaic, Madaba, Mt Nebo, Souvenirs, Spirituality on February 25, 2014| 5 Comments »

image from http://www.josephinewallart.co.uk

“Finding oneself and one’s path is like waking up on a foggy day. Be patient, and presently the fog will clear and that which has always been there can be seen. The path is already there to follow”
― Rasheed Ogunlaru, Soul Trader: Putting the Heart Back into Your Business

The next day we left Petra on the Kings Highway for our first stop at the ruins of the crusader fortress of Al Karak. It had the feel of a large open town, symmetrically laid out. It was almost possible to see crusaders marching around in full regalia. Situated at the edge of town there was a surreal feel to the place. More than ever history and modern day events lived side by side. Left to ramble over the ruins we wandered over what seemed like acres of ground. It would have been more than impressive in its day.

Al Karak Crusader fortress at Kerak

Tunnel in fortress, Al Karak

Looking down into the fortress

After the long exploration we drove to a lonely, windswept hill, Mount Nebo, which is believed to be the tomb of Moses and is where Moses looked out over the “promised land”, forbidden to enter by God. A mosaic floor still lies in the ruins of a 4th and 6th century church. This time we were the only people at the ruin and were able to spend quite a bit of time walking around and exploring the area. Looking out across the land it seemed desolate, nothing but sand and rock. It’s hard to imagine it as being “the Promised Land”, a “Land or Milk and Honey”, but seasons come and go and everything eventually changes. It really made you ask why there was so much blood shed over such a barren and desolate place. (It may not have been at the time).

Memorial to Moses, Mt Nebo

Floor Mosaic, Mt Nebo

Jebel Musa also called Mt Nebo

Our next stop was at Madaba still driving along the 5000 year old King’s Highway. Madaba is known as the City of Mosaics. We were there to see the mosaic of the Holy Land which is part of a floor mosaic in the early Byzantine church of Saint George. The church is northwest of the city centre and was built in 1896 AD, over the remains of a much earlier 6^th century Byzantine church. Madaba appeared to be a congested little town where every street was twisting one way or another. Of course we had no idea which way we were going and our guide gave a simple direction. “Make sure you can see the person in front of you. Don’t stop for any reason and don’t get lost. Do not stop to look in the shops or talk to the shop keepers. I will not be responsible if you stop. We may not be able to find you”. How much was for effect and how much real?

Map of the Holy Land at Madaba

Madaba mosaic

Outlook from Mt Nebo

We did start to lose some of our party, those who were having trouble keeping up. The guide was not interested in moderating his pace and a few of the less fit, who would have enjoyed the excuse to stop and check out the local wares, began to fall behind. Soon it was obvious we were about to lose part of our party and all I could see was a sea of Arab faces, all clamouring for us to stop and look at the things they had for sale along the street or enticing us to “Step inside and see our wares”.

The Kings Highway

Roman Milestone, Mt Nebo

Mt Nebo sculpture

To say I was annoyed would be putting it mildly. The people who had been the first to tattletale that we were being ‘kidnapped’, ‘arrested’ or grabbed by the Bedouin, made sure they remained hot on the heels of the guide and didn’t look back. The rest of us formed a relay of sorts, a string of white faces amongst the sea of Arab faces, ensuring we could see the person in front and behind. Eventually we made it to the Church and reformed our group again. Words were spoken, both to the group who ignored the people falling behind and to the guide, who suddenly developed “English amnesia”. There’s nothing like a goatherd when you need a guide in town!

The trek was worth it to see the mosaic, but the tension spoilt the journey. Strangely enough we managed to get back to the bus using a much more direct route and took much less time. The streets were also much wider and less congested. I wasn’t the only person pondering the strange behaviour of our guide; in fact I was convinced he had taken us through the seediest part of town. We were all relieved we had managed to keep a look out for each other and arrived safely back at the bus.

Approach to AL Karak

Canon at Crusader Fortress, Al Karak

Fortress, Al Karak

Once more on the bus we had one final stop, at a souvenir place. Once again, it seemed a place in the middle of nowhere and off the beaten track. They had the most amazing oil paintings done on canvas or velvet. Far too difficult to say no to something so beautiful when we knew this was the last opportunity we had to buy anything in Jordan. One of the salesmen decided to follow Mel and me around the store. It seemed that all the salesmen were determined to sell everyone something before we left. Of course, this was the land of bartering and it had been fun in Egypt, which I totally forgot to mention. So, smiling sweetly we did the circuit of the store, once, twice, three times before finally getting down to choosing a few things we liked. Then it came time to start the haggling process.

Street in Madaba

Kerak Village

From on top of Mt Nebo

Both Mel and I were travelling elsewhere after our stay in Jordan and the idea of trying to carry framed pictures with us, simply didn’t appeal. I had chosen a beautiful velvet oil of a Bedouin encampment amongst Roman ruins. It was beautiful and I did buy it for a very good price and persuaded him to remove the frame for me. Then we smiled and asked him to remove the frames from Mel’s pictures. Our friends were not impressed as they had pictures in frames whilst we had ours safely rolled to carry with us.

Once back in Amman I had the unequaled pleasure of trying to find a pharmacy which stocked the medication I needed. I had miscalculated somehow and I was fortunate to find a pharmacy with a pharmacist who understood English and had the right tablets. As luck would have it she was right around the corner about three hundred metres up the street. However I was pleased to get back inside.

Lower part of Roman Ruins, Amman

Temple of Hercules, Amman

Colosseum, Amman

The next day we had a guided tour of Amman. We ended up at the Citadel, the old Roman ruins in the centre of Amman. The Citadel is actually on a hill with the ruins of the Temple of Hercules. Below the Citadel’s southern rim is a stream known as Seil Amman. It is on the south bank that most of the Roman City of Philadelphia was situated. The ruins have a main Forum, Theatre, Odeon, and various shops. The Amphitheatre is the largest in Jordan, and could seat 6,000 spectators. The Theatre area is filled with stalls selling shish kebabs or ice creams as well as souvenir shops. There is also an exquisite example of a Byzantine mosaic from Madaba.

Amman

The Citadel, Amman

Excavation under the Citadel

It was a great way to end our tour of Jordan and to end our time together. We had the afternoon to relax, compare notes of our tour together, exchange addresses with everyone and get our cases organised and repacked. Last minute laundry was essential for Mel and me.

The next day Mel was leaving for Mount Sinai, people were travelling home, to Brazil, Canada, the US and the UK whilst I was staying an extra day before going back to Israel. Everyone was leaving at different times so the whole day was spent saying ‘goodbyes’. It had been a wonderful trip and I was looking forward to going back to Israel.

The Siq, Petra

It had been a whirlwind trip, filled with so much history and scenery which at times took your breath away and at others left you wondering why there was so much fighting there. With so much history and so many different cultures all melting into a country and culture it was not surprising that there was the unique diversity amongst the people in the Middle East. From the Byzantine era, Crusaders, Moses and Romans, it was a land steeped in religious doctrines and wars. I felt awed and humbled but with a sense that I was gaining a clearer perspective of who I was, what I believed and where I was heading. It was going to be interesting going back to Israel again. I wondered if it would be as difficult to return as it had been to get in originally.

Next week…..Back to Tel Aviv.

Blessings, Susan ♥

In Search of…..Part 19 – Jordan

Posted in Gratitude, Identity, Life, Philosophy, Spirituality, Travel, tagged "In Search of", #Jerash, #Petra, adventure, Bedouins, finding oneself, Friendship, Jordan, Roman ruins on February 19, 2014| 9 Comments »

image from http://www.josephinewallart.co.uk

“The most beautiful people I’ve known are those who have known trials, have known struggles, have known loss, and have found their way out of the depths.” ― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Another early start saw us on our way to the Cairo airport. Once again Mel and I seemed to attract the security guards and we went through the mandatory luggage check and then the pat down by some fierce looking female guards. No arguments here but my cheeks were sore trying not to smile, I didn’t think they would appreciate it. So, with a great deal of eye rolling from the rest of the group we finally made our way to the check in counter. I was beginning to think that they thought we were doing something to attract this unwanted attention. With bulging suitcases we definitely didn’t want our bags rummaged through every time we went to the airports.

A short flight later we were landing at the Amman airport, Jordan. Our arrival was met by a tour official and we were shepherded to the Amman Marriott Hotel. It was a nice easy day after the hustle and bustle at the end of our Egyptian leg and we made the most of catching up in the Business centre and grabbing a little rest.

Amman

Another view of Amman

Amman from a distance

Breakfast was bright and early the next day and we met our guide for this part of the trip. He was as different as he possibly could be from our guides in Israel and Egypt. His English was, to say the least, a trial as we strained to understand what he was saying. From his attitude I wondered if he had just wandered into town from the hills. He appeared more at home with the bus driver than his passengers, in fact we appeared to be unwelcome cargo.

Jerash, Roman Ruins

Looking down on the Colonnade

Beautiful mosaic floor, Jerash

Our first stop was at the Roman ruins in Jerash. It was an amazing sight. The Colosseum was almost intact and mock gladiator fights and chariot races were held throughout the day. You simply had to pay extra to see them – after you had paid to get into the site of course. Yet the scope of the ruins was enormous. You could easily visualise an entire city, and walking through the almost immaculate streets you could feel the size of the place. Thus was no small village but a thriving metropolis. Our guide waxed lyrical about the aqueducts in the streets and the sewage system tunnels, still able to operate. The heat was oppressive and there was no shade. People began huddling in the slight shade from the tall columns along the colonnade.

Roman Amphitheater, Jerash

Cardio Maximus, the main road inthe Roman ruins, Jerash

Ready for the chariot race, Jerash

Amazingly there was lush green grass on the hillsides all around. It was a luxuriant emerald green with wildflowers sprinkled throughout. At the top of the nearby hill was a fenced enclosure with towers built along its length. Soldiers carrying weapons could be seen slowly patrolling the perimeter. It was another reminder that we were close to the border and as carefree as the ruins made you feel, real life was a heartbeat away with the torpid heat.

Oval Plaza at Jerash, modern city in background

Roman Ruins of Jerash

Wildflowers, Jerash

Leaving Jerash before we were all desiccated we retraced our ‘steps’ and headed for Petra, at the other end of Jordan. Why this strange route? We never found out, but a frantic rush ensued to reach Petra by nightfall. Once again we wondered why, until we were closer to our destination and the roads degenerated in quality. We definitely didn’t want to be broken down in the middle of ‘nowhere’. There was a collective sigh of relief as we finally pulled into the Hotel in Wadi Musa. It was time for a quick meal and an early night before the famous Petra Treasury tomorrow.

The unassuming entrance to the Siq, Petra

The Golden splendour of the Siq when the sun hits it.

The first glimpse of the Treasury

The next day dawned bright and hot. Sunscreen was applied by the truckload, although we were told it would be different once we reached the entrance to the treasury. Sand puffed up around our feet as we slowly walked across to the walk down to the mountain. Rejecting the pull of an easy donkey ride down we decided to leave that luxury for our exhausted return. The heat was, for me, oppressive. We walked down the hill towards the Siq, the entrance through the mountain. It did nothing to prepare us for the sights once we entered Siq, the narrow cleft in the mountain.

Jordanian guard at the Treasury

Close up of the Treasury

Inside the Treasury, going into Aaron’s Tomb

The mountains seemed to flow like waves, with each rippled wave a different colour. The best times to see the mountains and Treasury are early morning and dusk as the sandstone picks up the sun’s rays and reflects these wonderful colours back at you. The Siq is 1.2km in length, formed by the mountain splitting and there really are only poet’s words to do justice to the magnificent sight, or photos!

Amazing colours in the hand hewn caves

Inside the Treasury built as the tomb of Nabataean King Aretas 111

More buildings at Petra

Almost at the end of the Siq we could see the impressive Treasury, seen in Indiana Jones. It is a breathtaking sight. It towers over the surroundings and dwarfs mere humans with its presence. Apart from an almost unidentifiable muttering we had no introduction from our guide so we joined the crush of people entering the Treasury. Inside the Treasury, we could see the room built as the tomb of Nabataean King Aretas III.

We learned more from other guides as we wandered around than from our erstwhile goatherd. Yes, he told us he had come down from the country to guide tourists because there was no living to be made in the desert any longer. At least we understood why he was obsessed with the aqueducts! He did point out the lights and aqueducts along each side of the entry passage to the Treasury. The Romans were nothing if not thorough. It was blissfully cool inside the building, almost chilly in some places. The sandstone is so soft that apart from the external parts of the Treasury all the dwellings were carved from the rock. The Arabic name for the Treasury is Al-Khazneh.

Petra ‘buildings

Aqueducts in the Siq

The Treasury as seen in the Indiana Jones film

Another hot walk took us around to a lower part of the valley to the more traditional Roman ruins. To the right of the valley was another smaller mountain, at the top, several caves. A purposeful climb later we stood at the top of the mountain overlooking the whole valley. It was only when we reached halfway to the top that Mel decided to let me know she didn’t like heights. Oops! It was a magnificent sight and balanced precariously on the edge I took some wonderful photos. On the way down we were stopped by several Bedouin girls. After chatting for a few minutes we were invited to have tea with them.

The donkey train travel at Petra

The taxi of the desert, camel rides at Petra

Bedouin women selling jewelry at Petra

We were told explicitly NOT to go with any Bedouins, but…. Why spoil a good thing? The tea was very hot, very strong and VERY sweet. Of course, as we were sitting there our erstwhile spies walked past and seeing us under the overhang with our Bedouins, rushed off to tell everyone else we were probably being murdered or kidnapped. By this time we could laugh at the absurdity. It was with regret we said our goodbyes, but time was passing and we had to get back to the hotel. Succumbing to the lure of the donkeys, we had a slower trip back than if we had walked.

It had been many years since I had a donkey ride and it felt as though the years had fallen away. At one point I looked over my shoulder to see if Mum and Dad were still watching. It was a strange feeling as I knew, in my heart, that they were indeed watching. They had been watching over me the entire time I was wandering through Petra and I know Dad enjoyed the tea break with the Bedouins, that was his style.

Looking out over the valley, Petra

Looking down over the Roman Ruins

Caves hand hewn from the sandstone cliffs

Petra showed me that the present and the past have reflections of each other, if we are aware enough to see them. I had so much wanted my parents to enjoy parts of my trip and at the last moment in Petra they reminded me that they were there with me. After the sadness of losing Mum and Dad I was closer to them than I had been for quite some time. The heavy burden of grief lifted somewhat and I knew that in my heart they would always be with me. My spirit was soaring like the falcon I saw, happy that life follows its circle and allows us to make it complete again, when we are ready.

Author unknown

Blessings, Susan ♥

Next week……. Madaba and Mount Nebo

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In Search of….Part 18 – Arrested Cruising the Nile

Posted in Abundance, Gratitude, Identity, Life, Photography, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, tagged "In Search of", #Abu Simbel, #Edfu, #Egypt, #Temple of Hatshetsut, #Valley of the Kings, Hieroglyphs, King Tutenkhamen, Memphis, Papyrus, River Nile on February 11, 2014| 9 Comments »

image from http://www.josephinewallart.co.uk

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning

Early the next morning we were taken to the Nile where we boarded our vessel for the cruise part of the trip. Once we had all been ensconced in our own cabins we wandered down for lunch. Fortunately they were only a few ways to get there so getting lost wasn’t too much of a problem.

The dining room was laid out with a buffet and waiters to keep everything replenished and also attend to our tea, coffee or fresh orange juice. I was reveling in the pleasure of being waited on. As a full-time wife (recently divorced) and mother (never ends) it was a real joy having someone to bring me whatever I needed. Of course, one of the simple things which I never gave a thought to actually caused me a little problem.

Dining room on Nile Cruise ship

River Nile cruise

Sailing down the Nile

I smile! I smile a lot when I am happy and when I am appreciative of something another person is doing for me. Simple things like a fresh juice and a hot coffee and I smiled my thanks to the waiter. I smiled my gratitude and never gave it another thought. Mel and I were given superb attention and service at lunch. When we asked one of the waiters coming out of the kitchen if a dish was being replenished and they said no, we must have looked disappointed. Before we had time to move around the buffet we were ushered quietly back to the other side of the buffet and there was a small bowl of the dish we asked after. Service! Impeccable and smiling service, yes, I was appreciative of being waited on.

Each day followed the same pattern. We would all be up early and meet in the dining room. Breakfast and we would head off on a bus to a pyramid, or the Valley of the Kings, or simply cruise the Nile, go to the Aswan Dam and Nefertiti Perfumery, or catch the plane to Abu Simbel. It was a mixture of relaxed sailing on a busy river, and excursions to the pyramids and temples. The banks were more interesting and the history was on land not in the river.

Valley of the Kings

The Pyramids of Egypt

Hieroglyphs, Memphis

But there were also some hilarious moments. I smiled. Mel and I both smiled, we were polite to the crew and waiters and talked to them. We thanked them for their service. Quite normal I believed. However, I quickly noticed something very amusing. After my accidents and the intervening period I had quite a bit of pain after each excursion. The mornings were difficult to get going and we rarely made it into the dining room first. Not far behind the first to enter, but rarely the first.

However, as soon as we arrived we had two waiters almost shadowing us. As soon as we chose our seats we had a glass of fresh orange juice and the hot pot of fresh coffee being offered to us. It made no difference that someone else was already in the room, sitting and peremptorily holding coffee cup in the air to be filled. Everyone was ignored until we were served. Okay, in my opinion they were a tad surly and if they had to wait, so be it. Yet it didn’t end there. Throughout the meal our glasses and cups were refilled before we needed to look around for a waiter. They would walk past our fellow diners and fill our glasses and cups first. Often it might empty the jug or pot and they would sail away into the kitchen. The same thing happened with the buffet, we were shadowed and if something looked ‘empty’ they would offer to get a fresh dish. We smiled and had excellent service at every meal.

Memphis

Hieroglyphs Memphis

Our First Stop, Memphis

It was hot and I was concerned about being sunburnt but somehow I managed to avoid that misery. We also avoided all the other miseries of travel we had been warned about. My medical supplies came home intact.

We had an enthralling day in the Valley of the Kings. Heat and sand and hundreds of people, but it was worth it. There was a special charge if you wanted to see the tomb of King Tutankhamen. Heavens – we were right there, we had to see it. Lining up with the throng was an introduction to the human miasma we would get to know more intimately. The entrance to the tomb was down a steep and low walkway. In fact it was accessible only if you duck walked the entire way down to the burial room and back up to the surface. I was going to do it and it didn’t matter if it was difficult. The ‘tunnel’ was divided in two by a rope. One way down and one way back out. No stopping and no changing lanes. Overhead lights, (thank heavens for electricity), made sure we could see the snaking line of human ducks waddling down and out of the tomb.

Valley of the Kings

Valley of the Kings, hidden in plain sight

At the rear, the entrance to the tomb of King Tutankhamen

The heat rose as we moved in and the air seemed very thin. We could hear the fans blowing air through the tunnel and I couldn’t help but wonder how they had managed this before electricity. One of our group, a somewhat large person, insisted on going down. He couldn’t see his feet when standing and was told he had to remain squatting for at least fifteen minutes down and then back, but insisted on going in. Approximately half way down we heard a commotion behind us. (Yes we selfishly made sure we were well ahead of him.) Our rotund friend couldn’t breathe, overheated and could no longer duck walk. We were told it took quite a bit of engineering to get the lines of people stopped and manoeuvre him from one side to the other and get him out. Everything has been stripped out of the tomb and it was a little disappointing but I made it into the tomb and out, under my own steam Yes! I was thrilled.

Hieroglyphs

Temple of Hatshepsut

At Hatshepsut temple

Another excursion took us to a pyramid where the external walks were undergoing renovation and preservation work. As we walked behind one wall we saw to our right some of the best reliefs in the complex. The ground was a little rough, okay, it was very uneven, and there was a small rope alongside the path, to warn people of the uneven surface. ( I wish I could draw an angelic face here). As we walked across to get our photos an armed ‘soldier’ dressed in black, big gun, came hurrying towards us. We were not supposed to be there. Smiling once more, we explained we only wanted to get some pictures. Smiling all the while, he relented and stood guard for us to get our pictures. How we were supposed to steal the cartouches is beyond me. As we were moving back to the path some of our group appeared. Attempting to cross the rope our guard lifted his rifle. No admittance.

Temple of Horus at Edfu

At Edfu

Temple of Luxor

Of course as soon as Ayman, our guide, made an appearance he was told that we had been arrested and escorted away from the temple. Not bad, kidnapped by camel drivers and arrested by a guard. We were then admonished by members of our group for encouraging the locals and the waiters. It simply wasn’t right, smiling at them, making eye contact, it set a bad precedent. It would be misunderstood that we were leading them on! Yes, we received our fair share of proposals or propositions but nothing we were unable to handle or deflect. Sorry, it sounds like sour grapes and cold coffee.

Ancient God Osiris

Temple at Karnak, night

Pharoah Amenhotep in Hieroglyphs

The flight to Abu Simbel was an education. I didn’t think aeroplanes like that could get in the air. Shake, rattle, clank and hold onto your hats. But the sights made it worthwhile. A group photo in front of the temple signaled the last of our land trip in Cairo. All that was left was the return to Cairo after Egyptian dancers in the lounge that night. Mel and I both shimmied on stage!

Abu Simbel

Mural painting at Abu Simbel

Awe Inspiring Abu Simbel

The next morning I wondered why I had done it but, it was a great way to end the trip. The next day we traveled back to the Cairo Marriott again for one night. Our final stop at the Papyrus Place. Too many choices but I had a wonderful time. After that it was on to Jordan.

Papyrus

Egypt was so full of adventure and it lived up to more than I anticipated. The history and majesty took my breath away and I wished my mother had been able to see it, as it was one of her loves. I managed to get into a little unexpected drama, innocently, but began to realise that I was simply a small part of a larger whole. My search was beginning to put its pieces together and I had glimpses of who and what it might reveal.

Next week…..Jordan

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In Search of…..Part 14 – Jerusalem

Posted in Abundance, Blessings, Cameras, Challenges, Coping Skills, Creativity, Gratitude, Identity, Life, Life lessons, Personality, Philosophy, Photography, Psychology, Self Development, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged answers from Spirit, Bethlehem, Finding myself, History around each corner, Israel, Jerusalem, Mount of Olives, Nativity Church, Spirituality, Susan Jamieson, Tension in the Holy Land, West Bank on December 19, 2013| 7 Comments »

image from www-josephinewall-co.uk

It’s taken a while but I’d like to explain why I use this image for each of my entries “In Search of”, The simple reason is that the title of the work is “Spirit Elements” and it seems fitting for my story. I hope you like it a much as I do.

Once on the coach at the Dead Sea Hotel we traveled through the Hebron Valley towards Bethlehem. After many calls and ‘agreements’ our guide had been given the all clear for those of us who wished to go into Bethlehem, to do so. It was explained to us that it would be our own decision and no responsibility would be held by the tour operators. Since Bethlehem was inside the West Bank, a Tour Guide from inside there had been arranged and he would look after us whilst we were there. There was still a set protocol to be followed to visit Bethlehem. At the time it seemed slightly odd, from the perspective of hindsight it was a trifle more ominous.

West Bank checkpoints, empty when we were there.

King David Tower, plaza where we were ‘left’.

Typical Bethlehem street

The tour bus driver was allowed to drive up to the West Bank access point, whilst the tour guide had to exit the bus a couple of blocks before the checkpoint. The driver had been given instructions that he was not allowed to leave the bus under any circumstances, although we were not totally aware of the magnitude of that little statement.

Church of the Nativity, under renovations

Crypt of Church of the Nativity, Star of Bethlehem

Hezekaias Tunnel, Bethlehem

Arriving at the checkpoint I noticed the high concrete wall around three sides of the ‘square’ and the shapes of armed soldiers along the top of the wall, all carrying machine guns! An ominous start. The access area looked, for all the world like a cattle grid, or the gates at the entrance to the Brisbane Exhibition grounds. Once off the bus the driver left immediately, and we were on our own. We moved towards our entrance. There were swarthy looking characters watching our every move. It was increasingly tense as our every move was carefully watched.

Nativity Church, Bethlehem

Church of st. Catherine

West Bank_fence south hebron

At the other side we were met by the West Bank tour guide, Ibrahim. We later found out that the real tour guide was Ibrahim’s son, but since the recent conflict, the tourism trade had been badly affected and he had therefore decided to take the tour himself. After the time we had spent in Israel it felt like a different world completely. The buildings were, for the most part, covered in steel grills and the windows or glass in the doors was papered over also. Everything seemed dustier, the people less cheerful and much more aware of our presence. We were escorted to a restaurant for lunch and had little option but to order something. We were not leaving until we had eaten! We saw Hezekiah’s tunnel, the Church of the Nativity and spent some time being closely scrutinised in a large square in front of an official looking building.

Bethlehem Souvenir Centre

Souvenirs of Bethlehem

Church of the Nativity and Manger Square

The ‘tour guide’ seemed to disappear into the surroundings as we reached the square and we were left milling around wondering when he was coming back. Finally, he strode into our midst from within a group of soldiers. We were hustled up the street quickly. The very unfriendly looks made for a tense atmosphere. At one of the unremarkable doorways we were ushered inside. It was a souvenir shop which appeared to sell religious knick knacks of a huge number. The women in the store had coffee, sweets and savouries which they pressed on us at every opportunity at no cost. We had been told that as soon as we were ready to leave we should ask the tour guide to radio ahead for the bus to be at the check point to pick us up. The driver was allowed ten minutes to be at the exit and collect us so timing was critical. However, despite being asked by more than half the group our tour guide was in no hurry to allow us to leave, in fact the door had been locked and bolted – for our protection! It soon became apparent that unless everyone bought something from the shop – which he owned – we weren’t going to leave any time soon.

Checkpoint to leave West Bank

Bethlehem, West Bank and the Gaza Strip…

The Star Of Bethlehem flower

After a hurried discussion we all bought a small trinket and the guide called for the Israeli bus. We made our way back to the gates under the watchful gaze of the locals and a soldier or two. I am rarely uncomfortable when out and about but it was with a very odd sensation between my shoulders that I made my way through the exit. The Israeli bus was a very welcome sight. We drove several blocks away and collected our Israeli guide, which is when we finally learned of the tension surrounding our visit to Bethlehem. If we had known I doubt that as many people would have gone.

The Southern Part of the West Bank. Buildings and desert side by side.

The south of Mount Hebron, West Bank

The West bank countryside

From Bethlehem we drove to Jerusalem. It was such a strange transition, driving through lush countryside after the drab and desolate surroundings inside the West Bank. I am not making any criticism of the area, either the people of the place, yet I can say with all honesty that the only time on my trip I felt at all uncomfortable was whilst I was inside the West Bank. The air of “something about to happen” was very real.

View from the Church of all Nations…

Garden of Gethsemane ..from moving bus

Ancient Tree in an Ancient land.

Jerusalem was yet again a completely diverse mix of modern and ‘ancient’. We saw the Garden of Gethsemane and the Mount of Olives. Nothing was as I expected, probably from too many movies. We, that is Mel and I, had an exciting trip to Ben Yehuda mall to find a new suitcase for me. Pulling an empty suitcase over a paved or cobbled area was hilarious. We were so hungry we stopped for Schwarma in the mall. The looks we got were priceless and watching the flow of people as we sat there was enough to write fill a novel. We managed to find a nifty little store that was crammed with everything imaginable and I bought a few laugh a minute items for my children when I got home.

Making the schwarma

Dinner is ready

schwarma in BenYehuda mall Jerusalem

On the way to the hotel we stopped at a little coffee shop. They were really nice letting me drag this large suitcase inside with us. We had the most delicious chocolate mousse filled with hot syrupy chocolate. It was so delicious I could have scrapped the plate clean!

The next day we set off for a tour of the old city. We walked from the Western Gate to the many churches and the ‘birthplace of Christ’. There was so much to see and not enough time. We stopped for a while at the Wailing Wall and walked the length of the Via Dolorosa, the “Way of the Cross”. Stopping at a sidewalk café for drinks and something to eat seemed surreal and at the same time so ‘every day’ that I wondered if I was just an observer in a strange land.

Christ Church i the Old city

Church of the Sepulchre, supposed tomb of Christ

Church located on the Mount of Olives

After an exhausting day we went back to the hotel and, being the first two in the business centre, Mel and I hit the computers to write home and keep a running diary of events.

Ben Yehuda Mall

The Golden Gate

Old Jerusalem, Jewish Quarter

The next day was spent exploring further and a haunting visit to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust memorial. It was impossible not to be moved by the enormity of all we saw. Mere words and photos cannot really do our time in Jerusalem justice. It could easily fill a small book.

Yad Vashem, Holocaust Memorial

Lights to symbolise the Million plus children killed in the holocaust

Yad Vashem children’s Monument

The next morning we packed up and the bus headed for the airport at Tel Aviv, the Ben Gurion airport for the next leg of our tour in Egypt. But first we had to get through customs!

8th Station of the cross, Via Dolorosa

Golgotha, Church of the Sepulchre

Sderot Rothschild Boulevard, Jerusalem

All around us was so much history, it was impossible not to try to capture as much as possible so we could have our memories with us later.

Jerusalem, Arab Section

Church of all Nations

The Church of the Resurrection in Jerusalem

It was a beautiful and challenging visit. The two sides to the same coin, but the differences were so great. After the tense and uncomfortable trip to Bethlehem, it was difficult not to make judgement calls….. rightly or wrongly, we were all glad we were in Israel. I felt I had been protected, and I also felt that ‘we all’ would be safe. It was good to have an angel on my shoulder.

I hope you have enjoyed this…. previous chapters are located throughout the archives. Please use “In Search of..Part “..” and you can catch up if you need to.

Next Week – Airports and Cairo

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In Search of …Part 13 – Revelations

Posted in Blessings, Challenges, Coping Skills, Gratitude, Identity, Life lessons, Magic, Philosophy, Photography, Psychology, Self Development, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Amatuer photography, BEing present, coping skills, Dead Sea, Galilee, Inner-peace, Israel, Jerusalem, Jordan, Judaean Desert, life lessons, Living from the heart, memories, Mindfulness, Roman Empire, Sea of Galilee Boat, self acceptance, Soul Growth, Spirituality, Susan Jamieson on December 10, 2013| 6 Comments »

image from www-josephinewall-co.uk

“…When a choice will make a real difference in our lives—obvious or not—and when we are living in tune with the Spirit and seeking his guidance, we can be sure we will receive the guidance we need to attain our goal.”
― Dallin H. Oaks

My trip through history really begins……

From Acre we took a leisurely drive overlooking the Galilee and Jezreel valleys, but were unable to go up to the Golan Heights was it still considered a ‘delicate’ area. We stopped for the night at the Kibbutz Ginnosar where the Sea of Galilee Boat or Jesus Boat was discovered in 1986. Due to its preservation in the mud it is still able to be seen how and what the boat was made from, but the effects of exposure to the open air is now causing problems. The next morning we were able to ride on a similar boat on the Sea of Galilee. The cool air as we sailed along was really pleasant as the day began to heat up.

From there we drove to the Church of the Beatitudes. Amazing frescoes in the church and sights from the mountain across the Sea of Galilee to Jordan on the far side gave one a feeling of what life must be like on a daily basis. On one side the peaceful sounds of the church service and the smell of incense and on the other, so near to an ancient enemy. It was almost too much for the mind to take in. Leaving there we drove to Nazareth where Jesus spent his childhood and after a couple of hours walking round with our guide, we left.

Sea of Galilee Boat or Jesus Boat

Sea of Galilee Boat ride

Church of the Beatitudes

Galilee Valley

Traveling back towards the ‘border’ we drove down to the Dead Sea. It was surreal seeing the Palestinian villages on one side of the road and the Jewish settlements on the other. There were even occasions where there was a Jewish and Palestinian village side by side. It was impossible to miss the high wire fences around the Jewish settlements. It seemed sad that they could work side by side and yet need to be barricaded inside an enclosure at night to be safe. By day, they were almost neighbours, but by night enemies once more. The electric fences were the only thing keeping the Israeli farmers safe. The voices of the past echoed around me.

Jewish Settlement

Looking towards the Border of Jordan

Settlement near Jordan

Wire fence around village

Following the Dead Sea, we drove to Masada. It was an incredible landscape of dry and desolate land. Masada was an ancient fortification in the Southern District of Israel, situated on top of an isolated rock plateau (akin to a mesa) on the eastern edge of the Judaean Desert, overlooking the Dead Sea. The Siege of Masada by troops of the Roman Empire ended in the deaths of the 960 Jewish men and their families hiding there. (This is my understanding: “Since suicide is a sin a secret lottery was taken by the men. Everyone was killed the night before the Romans intended to overrun the settlement. The unlucky lottery ‘winner’ killed everyone before committing suicide. In this way only one person would have broken the commandment “Thou Shalt Not Kill”, and committed the sin of suicide.”)

There were a couple of buildings under excavation too. Walking around the mesa was an eerie feeling. History spoke from every corner. As I walked around there was the sound of ancient footsteps and quiet voices. Spirit was crossing the ages for me.

The ‘strange’ part of the story begins here. After the Romans entered the settlement late in the day and found the dead bodies, the Commander ordered that the bodies be thrown off the plateau the following morning. However, the next morning not a single body could be found, neither in the settlement nor around the base of the plateau. They had simply – disappeared.

Decorated wall, Masada

Tiled Roman Mosaic floor

Terrain around Masada

Location of the Lots used for vote

Actual site of Roman encampment

One of the buildings under excavation

After a leisurely ride down in the cable car, we drove to our hotel at the Dead Sea. As we gathered to collect our suitcases prior to check in, I found my case had met with an accident. The wheels had been ripped out of the bottom of the case. How? I have no idea, but the idea of struggling with my case for the rest of my holiday made me shudder. A nice letter from the hotel manager, which later proved to be useless, was filed away with my paperwork.

Booked in, we all changed into our swimmers (old ones) and a shirt, to troop down to the Dead Sea. Suitably lathered in sunscreen with the warnings that:- we could spend no more than 5 – 10 minutes in the water and MUST shower at the beach before returning to the hotel. Oh, and of course, there is the oft repeated statement, ”Everyone can float in the Dead Sea” or “No-one can drown in the Dead Sea”.

Mel afloat in the Dead Sea

Hotel at Dead Sea

Mel and Israeli soldier

Down we go, in two’s and three’s we wander along the walkway into the Dead Sea. Like the petals of a flower slowly opening, people float off around the end of the walkway, a colourful explosion of laughing people. Of course being a chicken considerate person I held the cameras so Mel could go in first. She thought it was great, just floating along without effort was a dream. Then it was my turn. All I have to do is walk out and let my feet float up in front of me as I lean back slightly. No trouble at all, just so easy, nothing could go wrong. Wrong! Oh damn! I leaned back a little and my feet started to come off the bottom. A surge of adrenalin hit me and I tried to stand back up.

Oh No – No Way was that going to happen. My feet kept rising, my arms were windmilling and very unladylike squeaks were coming from my mouth. As my arms windmilled and I squeaked, the obvious happened. The one thing they really, strongly advised us against. DO NOT GET WATER IN YOUR EYES OR MOUTH. They could have also added nose, but I presume they thought everyone would have got the message. Well, I did get the message, but, try flailing madly with your arms and stopping water from getting in your eyes, nose, mouth and ears. Someone finally realised I wasn’t playing around and grabbed my arm and I found my footing. Of course once found, I made an immediate exit from the Dead Sea.

My eyes, nose and throat burned like the dickens. A bottle of water later and all I could taste was salt. By this time Mel arrived so we both made a dash for the beach showers. After ten minutes we gave in and made our way quickly to our rooms. Showered, shampooed and a bottle of moisturiser later I called her room and went over. I had run out of eye drops and was still feeling salty. We agreed; we felt as if we had been pickled in brine. We spent a small fortune on soaps and lotions and still our skin peeled off. I dread to think what it did to my stomach.

West Bank Fence, Hebron valley

Star of Bethlehem flower

Cases packed, and in my case, manhandled by the porter, we climbed back on board the bus for Jerusalem. We had one stop to make…. to Bethlehem in the West Bank.

Ciao, Susan x

Next week – Jerusalem

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In Search of …Part 12 – A Step Back in Time

Posted in Abundance, Blessings, Dreams, Gratitude, Identity, Life, Life lessons, Love, Philosophy, Photography, Psychology, Self Development, Soul Growth, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Acre, Acre Jail, Amatuer photography, BEing present, Britsih Mandate, Byzantine era, Caesarea, Crusaders, Crusades, Haganah, Inner-peace, Irgun, Israel, Jaffa, Living from the heart, memories, Mindfulness, Muslims, New Beginnings, Palmach, Roman, Roman floor tiles, Spirituality, Susan Jamieson, Tel Aviv on December 5, 2013| 17 Comments »

image from www-josephinewall-co.uk Spirit Elements

“If you learn to really sit with loneliness and embrace it for the gift that it is…an opportunity to get to know YOU, to learn how strong you really are, to depend on no one but YOU for your happiness…you will realize that a little loneliness goes a LONG way in creating a richer, deeper, more vibrant and colorful YOU.”
― Mandy Hale, The Single Woman: Life, Love, and a Dash of Sass

I had really enjoyed my wandering around Tel Aviv. After 12 days I was still awed by the flow of life which seemed a constant all day long. The Boulevard seemed like a true social gathering place. The coffee shops, restaurants and ice cream parlors were fabulous and the beach side bars had an ambiance all their own. I found myself relaxing and as I continued my walks along the Boulevard I also noticed I was breathing easier, the tension was finally leaving my body. It was so strange but so good at the same time. I couldn’t remember when I had last felt this lessening of tension. How long had I been carrying that around?

However, I wasn’t going to wander around for my entire stay in Israel. I had decided to go on a three week tour, 9 days in Israel, 7 in Egypt and 5 days in Jordan. It was a historical tour, but not a religious tour, which was exciting. On day 13 of my stay the people who were going on the tour with me arrived in the hotel, and I was pleasantly surprised to find another Australian amongst the group. M was a vivacious young girl, the same age as my daughter, and we hit it off from the outset. The rest of the group comprised mainly Americans with a couple of Canadians, two people from Brazil and an English couple just married. It promised to be a great trip.

Early the next morning we set off and the first ‘adventure’ a walk around the old port city of JAFFA! It was so different from my solitary wanderings as we heard the history of the site. We had been blessed with a tour guide who had studied archaeology and so the history became a living breathing excursion. If I went over all the history of each place I’d need a novel, so I scribbled when I could and took pictures instead. Standing at the top of the hill and looking out over the ocean or looking towards Tel Aviv there was a feeling of freedom. I was fulfilling a dream, a dream both Mum and I had shared for years, and I was learning more about myself each day.

Hanging Orange Tree

Taurus zodiac sign on the wishing bridge Jaffa.

View of old Jaffa courtesy of a friend

Statue of Faith, Abrasha Park, Old Jaffa

As we walked around Jaffa, it was astonishing to see the additions of rooms to the outside of buildings as they ran out of room to expand, and the giant hanging orange tree. My notes said,” The Hovering Orange Tree, in the centre of Old Jaffa is supposed to be a symbol of Israel’s prosperity, and some see in it a metaphor for the Jewish people, hanging between heaven and earth with their sufferings.” Hundreds of years old it made me feel as though the people of yesteryear were walking past me to water the tree.

Hanging room built on the outside of the house

A wishing bridge

Old Jaffa walkways

Tel Aviv to Old Jaffa town

Irrespective of what the travel brochure said, it’s an incredible sight to see. We saw the miniature city of Tel Aviv and walked along Ben Gurion Boulevard, through the Hacarmel markets and got to soak up the atmosphere of Tel Aviv. The markets were an incredible experience. Crowded like nothing I’ve seen before there were stalls offering so many different things it was difficult to take it all in. There were the traditional type of craft stalls, beautiful clothes, so much colour it hurt the eyes, and food, so many smells to tempt the hungry, but we had a special dinner arranged so we had to get back to the hotel. It felt as though we had wandered into another world and when we left we walked out into this world.

The Hacarmel markets

Miniature Tel Aviv

The miniature city

Harcarmel market

The next day we left by bus and traveled up the coast up to Haifa and then on to Caesarea. Walking through the ruins and listening to the multifaceted history of life from the Byzantine era through the Roman era to present day was mind blowing. I should add I adore history and this was history made live before my eyes. Yes, I was excited. It was believed built on the ruins of “Straton’s Tower’, captured by Jannaeus in 90BCE until taken over by the Romans in 63BCE. Herod the Great renames it Caesarea in honour of the Roman Emperor Caesar Augustus. He built a deep sea harbour, markets, and held gladiator games in the theatre. Caesarea also flourished during the Byzantine pe

Haifa,Israel

Amphitheater, Caesarea

Caesarea walkway, Israel

Roman Aqueduct and the Mediterranean, Caesarea

The area became a serious farming area until the Crusader conquest in the 11^th century. The farms were buried under the sands shifting along the shores of the Mediterranean. The Mosque on the site was converted into the church of St. Peter in the Crusader times. From then it had a chequered past, seeing the area inhabited by various people until the Israelis took control during the 1948 conflict. I felt as though I was travelling away from all the problems I had back in Australia and I was being whisked away back in time. Despite the throngs of people there were occasions I was alone and then there were chills at times, as I felt someone from a bygone age brush past me.

From here we went to Acre or Akko as the Israeli now call it, at the northern end of Haifa Bay. It has a historical lineage like Caesarea. It has been inhabited by the Greeks, Jews and Romans. We traveled in our explorations from the Byzantine era, Persian¸ 1st Crusades, to Saladin then the 3^rd Crusades (Richard 1^st of England), to the Mamluks, Ottomans and eventually the British. It was during the British Mandate that Acre’s fort was converted into a jail where the early Jewish underground fighters were imprisoned and shot. In May 1947 the Irgun broke into the jail, freeing the other activists and around 200 Arab prisoners. In May 1948 the Israeli’s captured Acre and it has remained in Israeli hands ever since. Parts of the jail are still in use although it is possible to see those areas which are no longer used.

Acre from the sea, courtesy of a friend

Roman Columns at Caesarea

Floor tiles in Caesarea

Byzantine era tower, Caesarea

As we walked around, seeing the layers of history as we went through the ruins and up to the level the jail was at the top was a strange experience. It felt, at times, as though there were crowds of people whispering behind you, all in different languages. There was a real sense of impending doom and death in certain places. My skin would suddenly ripple with gooseflesh, I would almost hear the sound of screams, and once I felt the definite pressure of a hand on my shoulder.

Ramparts, Caesarea

Ruins at Caesarea

Crusader Building at Caesarea

Old Roman Mosaic Floor, Caesarea

It seemed that as my cares back in Australia fell away and my mind was freed from thinking about them, I was open to hear and feel more of the spiritual experiences I had begun to feel I’d lost, when Mum had passed away. In a strange way, it also felt as though the years were dropping away too, and I became more carefree and light hearted. This was what I needed. I was finally beginning to find myself.

“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”
― Rumi

Blessings, Susan x

Next week – More Revelations

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In Search of ….Part 12. A New World

Posted in Blessings, Challenges, Gratitude, Identity, Life, Life lessons, Personality, Psychology, Soul Growth, Spirituality, Travel, Uncategorized, Writing, tagged Amatuer photography, Australia, BEing present, exploring, Inner-peace, Israel, Jaffa, life lessons, Living from the heart, memories, Mindfulness, Motivational, self acceptance, Self Development, Soul Growth, Spirituality, Susan Jamieson, Tel Aviv, Tel Aviv Boulevard on November 26, 2013| 8 Comments »

image from spirit_elements-www-josephinewall-co.uk

Apart from my trip from England to Australia, which I admit is quite a trip, I hadn’t traveled overseas much. I had been to Tasmania, which is considered part of Australia, just not attached to it, and to Fiji, which was my one overseas trip. This however, was my one REAL overseas trip since I was doing it alone. So, everything I saw and experienced was with the eyes of a novice. It was fresh and unknown.

As my driver pulled up to the Sheraton (Yes, I really went all out on my first big trip), one doorman rushed over to get my door and another went around to get my bags. Luxury was the name of the game. I didn’t want to stand and gawk but I tried to look everywhere at once, I wanted to savour the idyllic splendour of this incredible place….. until a loud voice in my head yelled “Get it together girl! You don’t want to look like a country yokel, wet behind the ears, a little more aplomb please!”

image from http://www.colourbox.com“Never been anywhere before”.

Alright, I was back on track and my image not too tarnished. I signed in and was taken up to my luxurious room. I had traveled in Australia and seen my fair share of hotels and motels, but this was something else. A huge king sized suite – just for me. For the first time ever, I had this huge bedroom for my own personal use. No-one coming to me for anything, no-one to share it with, it was just for me. It was totally surreal.

Room to move and then some

I started to unpack but the lure of the sunshine through the window, and wondering what was there drew me, so I threw on a pair of joggers and decided to go for a quick walk. I was never one to ask for directions, I always managed to get lost anyway, so deciding to throw caution to the winds I took my rough bearings, crossed the driveway and away I went. The traffic! I couldn’t believe how much traffic came flying down the road. Everyone jaywalks in Australia- at least we used to. Taking a long look and gauging the traffic, how fast it was flowing, I dashed across the road.

The esplanade was amazing. It was so wide and the paving in geometric designs as far as I could see. It seemed as though there were seats arranged in nooks and booths everywhere and people were sitting, talking, reading or walking, jogging, running, cycling along, on roller blades or skate boards. It was a hive of activity and at the same time an oasis of calm. The sand was a refined golden carpet and the ocean, the Mediterranean, was the most amazing blue imaginable.

Tel Aviv Boulevard This open air exercise area was used nearly the entire day and night.

Mesmerised I didn’t get too far that afternoon. The beach seemed to stretch for ever and the different architecture, from the ultra-modern to ancient almost next to each other. It was a glimpse of the Old world and new side by side. In the distance I could see the old town of Jaffa. It was to be my destination the following morning. Retracing my steps I once again took my life in my hands as I charged across the street to get back to the hotel. I decided if I was to stay in Israel for any length of time I had to work out how to cross the roads, or at least where to cross them.

For someone who was not a great breakfast eater, the temptation to go into the dining room and simply watch the world go by was too enticing. Once in there I had to have a look around and with freshly squeezed orange juice in hand I could hardly leave without trying a few dishes, could I? I cannot remember the names of the dishes I decided to try, but, a tasty tomato, cucumber and parsley salad with a tuna, mayo and onion dish and I felt my batteries charged. So, fortified with some traditional Israeli breakfast I set out.

Breakfast salad, a new idea

I rounded the corner from the hotel and, not dashing across the road walked along the footpath towards where I could see a crossing. Five minutes later I found myself surrounded by six giant, well-armed American soldiers. The funny side of the situation hit me and I started to smile, then giggle and I was not making the soldiers any happier. After all, I was a mere 5’7″ and these fellows were all giants, at least 7’ tall, or so they appeared to me.

Demanding to know what I was doing did not help. I really tried to explain I was just walking up to the crossing, but it appeared I was committing some serious crime, and I couldn’t work out what it was. The tension mounted and I simply could not stop the chuckles. Eventually someone asked me where I was from. Once I said Australia I heard a grumbled “Bloody Aussies” and there was an immediate release of tension. Apparently I had transgressed onto the US Embassy grounds. Apart from three foot high bollards there was nothing to say I had moved onto a prohibited area. One of the giants pointed a finger skyward so I craned my neck and saw a US flag on the top of the building. With a stern warning to “watch where I was going” I was allowed to leave, still holding in the chuckles until I made my escape.

Al Baqhr museum

From Tel Aviv to Jaffa

Tel Aviv from Jaffa

El Jazar Mosque

That morning was the first time I walked from my hotel into the old town of Jaffa. There was a great view from the top of the area around the marina and along the boulevard to the high rise buildings along the foreshore. After breakfast and around midnight each day I would make this walk to Jaffa, listening to my iPod and watching the whirlpool of people passing by. There was a constant flow of people, walking, running, on roller skates, skate boards or little scooters. People walked their dogs and groups of people would be sitting and chatting until the early hours of the morning.

I’m not certain what the hotel staff made of my nocturnal jaunts but I received a smile each time I returned. I still wasn’t sleeping very well or for very long but these nightly walks were soothing. During the day I explored the city. Being geographically challenged (I got lost easily) I saw a few areas more than once, but it was fun, almost as much as my first excursion to a shopping centre.

My map was great, my sense of direction not so good and my Hebrew non-existent, so the fact that I found the shopping centre was amazing. As I walked towards the doors I was surprised when a man, not much taller than I, suddenly popped out of the corner of the entrance, dressed all in black and carrying – a machine gun. (I’m no expert so I’m not guessing and he didn’t tell me exactly what it was). At that time all people not recognised by the guard were stopped and had their bags checked. Okay, it wasn’t that long since the Gaza problems so I could understand it, but it did make me stop and think. Since my natural reaction would have been to resist someone grabbing at me it could have been a different outcome. It appears I had my guardian angel sitting on my shoulder each time I ran into an armed and dangerous person. It was good to know.