Seven Days - from Salt Spring to San Juan to Oregon and back.

 We were ready for a break from weeding, chores and cleaning rooms.

So off we went to Oregon, hoping to explore backroads and places in between we had not yet seen.

We made reservations on the Washington State Ferry from Sidney, BC to Anacortes, WA. Since we had to take the Fulford ferry to get there, we were hours too early. But it was nice to suddenly sit in the sun and read a book. We both felt too tired to do much else. I guess once you stop working, it hits you.

It is interesting to note how different Washington State ferries are from BC ones: no fancy gift shops, no wifi, no luxurious buffets. Fare is cheaper: 107 Canadian versus 61 US from Vancouver Island to the main land. As we have been telling BC Ferries: you are not a cruise ship but a link in our highway system….

We chose to spend the first night in Friday Harbor on San Juan Island. We had stopped there several times before but never stayed to explore the island. Now we were there by 1 PM and spent the afternoon driving around the entire island. San Juan seems very similar in size and landscape to Salt Spring - but not nearly as artsy. My favorite stop: Snug Harbor’s marina and coffee shop.

I had booked a hotel online. I am still not sure if the choice was right or wrong. I had only been able to find very expensive places until I came across The Orca Inn on the edge of town. Booked a room for 68.- It was certainly the most affordable price. And the room was very clean, and it was very quiet at night. But the room was only 2 steps wider than the queensize bed. It felt a bit like sleeping in a drawer. The hotel was comprised of 9 double wide mobile home type building, each with 12 rooms cramped into them. Tiny but clean and it had a clean bathroom and shower. Really it was all we needed to sleep there, which was good ‘cause there isn’t even a chair to sit on. 

We walked around town, up and down hill. Enjoyed the shops and cafe’s. Had a nice happy hour on the patio of Friday Harbor House - great drinks and a perfect spot to sit. But the servers were snooty and were not impressed that we only drank and didn’t eat dinner there. 

We stopped in The Backdoor Kitchen restaurant because the ads for it were attractive. But a main course was USD 30 and up. We left and found a cozy place called The Rumour Mill, with decent food at almost half the price.

The Bean Cafe served good coffee and breakfast complete with fast wifi. We walked by several nice shops and cafe’s but Salt Spring wins, hands down, as far as galleries and funky shops are concerned.

What always amazes me if the number of cyclists on these islands. Tourist organizations seem to promote the Gulf and San Juan Islands as bicycle heaven. And they could be. But, in my eyes, they are a far cry from the ideal place to cycle. The roads are hilly and windy with almost non existent bicycle paths or even shoulders. Plenty of traffic makes it less than safe. Yet bicycles come off the ferries by the dozens. The islands truly should look at finding a way to create a safe infra structure for these cyclists who bring buckets of money on their 10 speeds.

Next blog: San Juan to Oregon coast

Websites:

http://www.wsdot.wa.gov/ferries/

http://www.orcainnwa.com/?utm_source=Pillar%2BMarketing%2B%2F%2BSan%2BJuan%2BSites&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=Pillar%2BMarketing%2B%2F%2BSan%2BJuan%2BSites

Hiking through History

Drenthe Trail

160 KM of hiking. Ten days. Fifteen kilo packs. Two blisters.

We did it.

And it was fun. 

Mostly it was fun because we took it easy. We slept in, had a lazy breakfast and still headed out on the trail by about 9 AM each day. No rush, no race.

We stayed with the ‘Friends On Bikes’ accommodations which are just like B & B’s and allowed us to stay in different Dutch homes, meeting interesting people. 

 We also stayed in a few small hotels and we enjoyed roaming the villages, visiting the bakery, sampling typical regional dishes.

Holland may be a small, densely populated country but in Drenthe it is still very green and very quiet. There were days when we barely met other people on the trail. 

We visited the very cute village of Orvelte, which is more like an open-air-museum with its historic farms. There is a glassblower, an antique store, a cheese maker and much more. We toured a historic farms full of furniture and household items of at least a century ago. The tour included a very nice movie about the village and life as it has been here during the ages.

Orvelte

This village is high on our list of recommendations, but only during the shoulder seasons. In high season it’s supposed to be very, very crowded!

See: http://www.orvelte.net  

Quiet lakes and fields of heather

Several times while hiking across the moors and heather, we met large flock of sheep. No shepherd, just a very special local breed of sheep on skinny legs and with long tails. These sheep help keep down any invasive species and promote the growth and expansion of the heather.  

We also found large Highlander steers and cows with enormous horns on our path. The drawback of hiking in April was the fact that farmers were spreading manure. The smell was often overwhelming. We only had 2 days of rain so can’t complain. It was a sunny, early spring in Holland.

Highlander

Ancient house, rebuild

Concentration camp Westerbork

On one of our last days of hiking we entered the Westerbork concentration camp area: an area where Jews were interned and from there shipped to extermination camps by the Germans during the war. It is an impressive and, of course, very depressing area but important to be preserved as a reminder of the horrors of war. While we were there, hundreds of school children visited the Museum. 

See: http://www.kampwesterbork.nl/museum/index.html#/index  

One of our favorite events was being in a small village (Dwingeloo) while an age old tradition was going on: Palm Pasen or Palm Sunday, the week before Easter. The children of the town all showed up for a parade with wooden crosses, decorated with garlands of candy and flowers, crepe paper and topped with a rooster made of bread. When I was a child I made the same cross and joined a similar parade. It was fun to see this tradition continue. 

Palm Sunday Parade

We completed about half of the Drenthe Trail and hope to hike the remainder soon. Next time I will carry much less weight and will make do with fewer clothes etc. The best piece of clothing I brought on this trip was a large scarf. It served as blanket in the plane, as shawl when it was cold and as head or shoulder cover in churches and mosques.

Our hotel has stuffed animals on the beds!

Our last night in The Netherlands is spend in a very futuristic hotel at Schiphol Airport: http://www.citizenm.com

Decorated in black and red, the lobby feels as if you walk into the future. The staff and technology reminds me of a Mac Store, the compact rooms of IKEA. One remote controls the blinds, lights, temperature and TV. Our view from the kingsize bed is directly onto the runway! The hotel states that:

citizenM is a new breed of international hotel, welcoming the mobile citizens of the world- the suits, weekenders, explorers, affair-havers and fashion-grabbers.

Hhmm... wonder which catagory you would put yourself in?

For now, we are headed home after an amazing two months of exploring. We can’t wait to hug the grandbabies, play with them and show them what we brought back.

But stayed tuned! Next month: China.

A sign we'd like to see in more places!

Bizarre Bazaars

Sultanahmet or old Istanbul is a medieval city centre, a mixture of Asia and Europe. And it is full of shops. The best place for shopping: the Grand Bazaar which is more than than just little shops. The enormous, ancient bazaar is all indoors - covered by arched ceilings. Its little alley ways crisscross into a labyrinth where you can get lost for hours. Vendors sip tea from tiny glasses in their doorways. Their displays include sparkling silver, hand painted china, woven rugs, cheap t-shirts, dangling blue eyes made of glass that are supposed to bring good luck. There are water pipes for sale and for rent. You can eat fresh bread or drink fruit juice, Turkish coffee or Turkish delight. The market's stone floors have been worn smooth over the ages, stone steps even hollow out by the millions of feet that have shuffled here.

The vendors drink tea all day.

Across town, past the many mosques, minarets and domed roofs of palaces, is the Spice Market. In this similar labyrinth of alleys, all covered, you can find baskets and mountains of cinnamon, curry, peppers of all color, dried rosebuds and sage. There are many different kinds of tea, cumin and rosemary. You can buy, and smell, dried apricots, dried octopus and
dates. After a while: sensory overload. Add to this the fact that the vendors yell and praise their wares. They invited you to come in, try this, buy that! And you have to barter. It's exhausting... 

We liked the colored mosaic, glass lamps you can buy here.

We strolled back to our hotel along the Bosporus and the Sea of Marmara. A long walk along ancient city walls, ferry terminals and one of the busiest waterways in the world. We watched little tug boats plowing alongside huge freighters.

Formerly known as Byzantium, then as Constantinople, and now as Istanbul, the city lies half in Asia and half in Europe. And it shows. With its roasted chestnut stalls and coffeeshops, Istanbul sometimes feels like Paris. Its narrow streets with patios and trams feel like Amsterdam. While its forest of minarets, shoarma stands and water pipes give it a distinct Middle Eastern feel. Women wear burkas or tight pants, hiking boots or high heels. You can buy roasted corn or a Starbucks. Istanbul is a meeting place of east and west.

I'm sure you can spend an infinite amount of time in this city, but to us three days were good. We walked all over the cold city, got a good sense of it and visited its icons: the Blue Mosque, the Topkapi Palace and the bazaars. We walked and walked and walked, but also lounged on patios. 

Bathing in History

Gourds are used as lovely, colorful lights on patios.

Today I decided to be brave and experience something unique.
Did you ever laid naked on a slab of marble, covered by 4 inches of foam and then they bring out the sandpaper to work on your body?
Today I took a Turkish Bath!

Pottery tea pot displays.

They advertised everywhere and, since I love Asian massages, I decided to give it a try. The bath people even offer a free ride from and back to your hotel. When the van picked me up, there were already two British ladies on board. I figured correctly that we would get to know each other intimately. The first half hour was spend stuck in traffic in the narrow streets of Sultanahmet, or old Istanbul. Fruit carts, delivery van and buses were stuck in a solid knot while drivers snoozed, honked or swore in Turkish.

The bath house, or hamam, built in 1475, was shaped like a mosque with many domes. The marble entry hall had two storey-high wooden change room structures for men. The women's bath was off through another hallway under another marble dome with similar change rooms. The two English ladies and I were ushered into a very small room and told to strip naked. We were each handed a cotton strip of fabric, which I hoped to be the size of a table cloth. It actually was the size of a small table runner.
We tried to pull and tug but it stayed the size of a small table runner.

Roasted chestnuts

We were then led into a sauna. A small, very hot sauna with cedar benches and a glowing fire. At first I didn't think I could breathe. But once I relaxed it was fine. I sat until sweat poured freely from my spontaneously opening pores.

'My' masseuse summonded me. I tried to look dignified, but all sweaty and wrapped in a handkerchief, this was hard to do. She instantly unwrapped me, spread my cloth like a place mat on a huge marble slab in the center of the room, and ordered me to lay down on it, much like a turkey on a dinner table.

She proceeded to pour warm water over me, before bringing out the heavy artillery in the shape of a sandpaper glove. It wasn't as bad as I had feared and actually felt quite invigorating.

Birdsnests made from pastry filled with nuts.

More warm water was followed by about 6 inches of foam, spread all over me. Soap crawled into my ears and mouth as I had a massage that was not as good as an Asian massage, but not bad. I flopped around on the marble slab like a slippery bar of soap, trying hard not to slide off and onto the floor. Then I was ordered through an arched doorway, up the steps and into another arched dome with a small pool.

"Swim, lady, swim!" my masseuse ordered. I flopped into the water like a slippery trout.
Cold! It was cold water. But once I decided to endure a Turkish bath, I think I resigned myself to accept my fate lock, stock and barrel - without complaining. So I swam.
After this I was invited back into the sweat sauna, or to take a nap on the slab of marble. I decided that clothes and tea sounded like the most attractive next step.

I'll have 2 warm breads!

On the way back to the hotel, and once again stuck in traffic, cars honked, tourists shopped for leather shoes and the driver mumbled many Turkish swear words.
But I just sat there, gloating. I felt very clean.
And very serene.
I had just had a Turkish bath!

I'm sure you will appreciate the fact that there are no accompanying photos for this story.

 

You want to go where?

Sleeping in a Bedouin Tent in Jordan

Bedouin woman

The bus from Tiberias drove south, as far south as you can go in Israel.
We slowly descended to the Dead Sea which, at 417 meters below sea level, is the lowest spot on earth. Crusted salt deposited clung to the shore line. The air was hazy with sand blowing in from Egypt. All day we drove along a solid wall of light brown mountains to the east - behind which we knew was Jordan.
Via Jericho and Masada, we drove south through the Negev desert. Considering that the bus cost us only about $25.-, the bus seems to be one of the most economic ways to travel throughout Israel.
Eilat, the southern most town in Israel, was a disappointment. It seemed a dusty, run-down version of Las Vegas with glitzy hotels, a small strip of beach and lots of amusement places. The worst thing was the airport. It is right smack in the middle of town. Huge airplanes come thundering over, missing the mall by a few feet. You can sit sipping beer on the beach and watch the belly of an airplane come right overhead.
We were glad we hadn’t planned on spending more than one night here.

Seven Wonders Bedouin Camp

The next morning we took a taxi to the Jordanian border. The paperwork on the Israeli side took perhaps a half hour because of line ups. The Jordan side was faster. Then we sat sipping Turkish coffee until our taxi showed up. We had booked this via our accommodations in Petra. A beautiful new car with a lovely guy who spoke English picked us up and drove us the 2 hours to Petra, at a very reasonable rate.
Driving along we noticed large white tents with U.N. logos. “Tents given for free to Syrian refugees,” our driver explained. Then he grinned. “Once the refugees move to the city, they sell these free tents for a profit to the Bedouin!” Probably not what the U.N. had in mind...

The camp at night

The accommodations I had picked from the internet. Petra is surrounded by regular hotels: the Ramada Inn, the Marriott. But, I thought, why would you want to stay in a normal hotel when you visit a place as unusual as Petra? Especially when you can stay in a bedouin camp?! On the website, Seven Wonders Bedouin Camp looked like fun. (http://www.sevenwondersbedouincamp.com/homepage.html)
We decided to be brave and booked a 3 night stay in a tent. And we were glad we did. To us, three nights was the perfect length of time.

The camp turned out to be a collection of square white tents, with inner and outer shells, a sold frame with a door. Inside were two metal bed frames with a big soft mattress, topped by 3 heavy blankets. When we crawled in at night, we felt like we were in a big warm nest surrounded by cool desert air and no sounds at all. Until 6 AM when bleating sheep strolled by. And until our last night when we laid awake listening to the distant thunder of shooting in the Gaza strip.

Me in the bedouin tent where we spent the evenings sipping tea.

We only had electricity between 7 PM and 11 PM but didn't miss anything. Internet was turned on for about an hour at night and one could see why it was so limited. As soon as they had internet, guests were staring at their devices instead of talking to each other! We met people from all over the world in this camp, and there were only about 14 people there at the same time, which was lovely and quiet.

Besides the 20 some guest tents, there were several very large, black traditional Bedouin tents. These had carpets on the floor, and many large woven pillows for reclining. At one end was a primitive wood stove belching smoke into the tent. And heat. We were toasty warm and ended up eating most meals here. We also drank endless small glasses of tea. We liked that this camp, as many Muslims sites, was alcohol free. But tea, in contrast, flowed freely. A sweet black tea with sage. Very addictive...
On the first night we were told that they made a point of serving something different for dinner every night. Every night we had rice, chicken, salad and potatoes. It was good - but no variety :-)
The camp was run by several very nice, friendly young guys. They were very thoughtful and kind, bringing us tea, offering rides, etc. At night they played a traditional string instrument and a drum, singing long, soulful ballads in Arabic.

A sleeping tent.

At US 45.- p.p. for one night, including breakfast AND dinner, this was likely a fraction of the cost of one of the fancy hotels and we thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

On our first afternoon, we strolled down to “Little Petra” - a small version of cave dwellings and carved facades, which is still ‘in the wild’ without entrance fee or any protection. It was a Friday afternoon - weekend for the Muslims who were out in full force: family after family squatting in the shade of rocks, making campfires, cooking tea and grilling meat. Children were running everywhere, women sat in the shade visiting. Smoke twirled up behind every rock from their little fires while they laughed and sang and enjoyed a sunny afternoon.

The evening entertainment.

When I watch a real shepherd, complete with crook, walking through a field of boulders with his flock, wearing a long black dress and flowing head scarves, I marvel at how little seems to have changed in this area over the ages.
Until he whips out his cell phone...

One night they cooked dinner in a deep pit in the ground.

This metal basket held layers of chicken, veggies and potatoes and cooked in the ground for 2 hours.

Coffee and donkeys in Nazareth

Nazareth has churches and mosques side by side

After a week at a wonderful international school near Hertzliyya, we are now in Nazareth.

donkey in Nazareth

We are happy to be staying in the old parts of cities, which have a very authentic, and much different, feel from the 'modern' parts of cities. Here, no busses and motorbikes race by. It is quiet because there  is no traffic. The roads are alleys, just a few meters wide, if that. They are steep, often with steps. Here the alleys also have gutters for run-off, making it awkward to walk. When the market stalls are open, and goods spill out into the street, there is not enough room for all of the people making their way up and down the hilly town. Here, among the vegetable and fruit vendors, it is easy to imagine how Jesus walked these same narrow roads.


We followed our noses to the coffee and spice vendor, bought Turkish coffee in a small stall and walked to the Church of the Annunciation where, according to Christian belief, the angel Gabriel told Mary of her immaculate conception.
The skyline of Nazareth is filled with churches, mosques and minarets. We were surprised to learn that no Jews live in this Arab city, but make their home in nearby Nazareth Ilid.
We had fantastic fried pancakes filled with cottage cheese and pecans, and drenched in honey.





We bought bread and fruit for our upcoming long distance hike and did our laundry. The hotel in which we are staying is a fun, ancient inn. Our room has stone arches and feels like an old wine cellar... The courtyard is full of birds and plants, even a lemon tree.

Old olive tree

This afternoon we visited Nazareth Village, an open air museum where the time of Jesus is reenacted in the village and farm style, clothing and way of living. Only 500 meters from old Nazareth, they have unearthed an ancient wine press area in the rocks, as well as terraced farm land. Old, gnarled olive trees shelter the sheep and donkey that roam around while children play in period clothing and adults demonstrate herding, a guard station, weaving and more. There is even a carpenter named Joseph...  Everything is very enjoyable and interesting. Except the gift shop which sells plastic baby Jesus dolls.

We found a great restaurant where we've gone back twice for dinner: Tishreen Restaurant: http://tishreen.rest-e.co.il


Check out: http://fauziazarinn.com     
                     
In our next blog, find the answer to the famous question: What Would Jesus Do?

Baby Jesus dolls for sale!

 

Shepard in Nazareth Village

Nazareth Village

  

 

Weaver

Amazing - apparently they had cameras in the 1st century!