byrnedm's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries

byrnedm's TravelStream™ — Recent TravelPod.com entries TravelStream™ news feed for member byrnedm on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/byrnedm en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Tue, 27 Oct 2009 01:18:38 -0400 http://www.travelpod.com The wait — Nuweiba, Red Sea and Sinai, Egypt http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209060000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209060000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209060000/tpod.html Tue, 27 Oct 2009 01:18:38 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Nuweiba, Red Sea and Sinai, Egypt

· Nuweiba, Sinai Peninsula, Egypt · GMT +2hrsNew day. Different resultIt's 1:30pm and we've been sitting in the departure hall of Nuweiba ferry terminal for two & a half hours already waiting to get on the ferry for the short trip north to Aqaba in Southern Jordan. Yep, we secured our tickets at 10:30 this morning and have already passed through passport control meaning we're officially, if not yet physically, out of Egypt. No one, not even the port 'officials' eying us westerners from across the glorified barn of a departures hall, has any idea when the ferry itself leaves (we don't even know if it is here yet). So far we've heard estimates of 2pm, 3pm and 3:30pm, bringing back memories of our 9 hour wait for the 'special' train we took some weeks ago from Varanasi to Delhi in India. Even though our patience with Egypt is totally shattered, and there is so much uncertainty, even now, as to when we'll actually get to Jordan, we're adopting the approach that 'we'll leave when we leave, in sha' Allah (God willing)', the approach we are only prepared to take to this whole shambles of an international ferry schedule because of two very good reasons: we've no choice in the matter, and because we know the reward for the wait, however long it ends up being, will be worth it. Day 255 Observations (April 24th 2008) · Time to go iThe signs were there when we woke in Dahab yesterday morning hinting that maybe, just maybe, we'd hung on in Egypt one day longer than we should have. The power in our room died at 6:30am taking our air-conditioned comfort with it. Then the hot water tap stopped dispensing emm, hot water meaning we had to shower in not only salty water but cold salty water. Shortly after that even the cold salty water tap stopped working. We got out of there just before the ceiling fell in (it wouldn't have surprised us if it actually did). The last thing we did before leaving Dahab for good? Collected our latest set of fresh laundry from the nice laundry guys on Dahab's main street... only to discover that a few of my previously white CK's, the ones Pat didn't leave behind in Kathmandu, had been dyed pink. Great. · Time to go iiFast forward 24 hours to this morning in Nuweiba, where the signs were also there for all to see. This time the air-con died at 4:30am, bringing the mozzies out to feast on us. The sweaty clamminess may have woken us up, but it was the mozzies buzzing around our heads that kept us from falling back asleep (the annoying buzzing sound was well amplified thanks to the 4:30am silence). Applying oily DEET repellent at 4:45am in the pitch dark (no lights of course) wasn't fun and the fact that, of course, there was no water in the room at all, salty or otherwise, just added to the 'lets-get-the-fuck-out-of-here' frustrations.· International relations restoredWe knew when going back to the ferry ticket office this morning that the guy selling the tickets, assuming it was the same dude as 24 hours previous (it was), wouldn't be too happy to see me considering I growled at him yesterday out of sheer frustration after our 2nd unsuccessful attempt to get either tickets or information for the ferry we are hoping would take us to Jordan (and quickly too). So to increase our chances of success this day I hid out of sight and Pat, the model of decorum that he is, approached the window, all smiles and oozing 'top-of-the-beautiful-morning-to-you' charm."Good morning. Can we buy tickets for the ferry today?" Pat inquired."Passports," the seemingly-having-a-better-day ticket seller replied. He flicked through both our passports, raised an eyebrow and looked suspiciously at Pat before looking back once again at the passports, holding up mine and stating, "He not Irish!" Pat didn't know what to say to this latest twist, so he said nothing at all. "He not Irish. I been to Ireland. I been to Dublin. Irish people polite. This man not polite... he not Irish," the ticket seller forcefully claimed as he pointed to my passport picture.Pat now understood what he was getting at and went on a damage limitation footing stating that I definitely was Irish, as was my father and grandfather before me. He then went on to explain, in that calming managerial tone of his, that yesterday we were just having a "bad day," a phrase the ticket seller seemed to understand.The "Irish," us, were called up some 30 minutes later to collect our passports and tickets, 30 minutes we spent swatting flies and taking in the unusual sight of, amongst other unusual sights, a goat carcass being skinned as it hung from a tree in the open-air ticket office compound. Apologies were given by both sides for yesterday's show of frustrations, handshakes were exchanged and after a quick spot of joviality about Dublin & Guinness (no mention of U2) we were on our way, pretty sure that Irish-Egyptian relations were on a good footing (or at the very least a firmer footing than they were 24 hours previous). · TimingAbout an hour ago, as we were sitting here waiting for the okay to board the ferry, an Egyptian tourism official approached us requesting we fill in a survey detailing our experiences of travel in Egypt. Needless to say his timing wasn't what I would call impeccable. With little else to do I took my time with the survey, answering honestly and needing extra paper to do so. That means it won't make for comfortable reading for whoever peruses it. Not that they'll care; our experiences have show that Egypt is only interested in high-rolling package tourists, the kind who pay a lot of money to come here in their droves, stay in the fancy hotels, eat in the fancy restaurants & ogle at its justifiably famous monuments, all the while being ferried from one to the other in air-conditioned comfort. They - the high-rolling package tourist - will continue to do this - visit & spend money in Egypt - regardless of how many touts are here to hassle them. They will also continue to do it regardless of what opinions a couple of budget backpackers may express on the trials & tribulations of independent travel in Egypt, opinions they freely give as they sit in a dive of an Egyptian ferry terminal wondering when the hell they are ever going to be allowed to leave the country. We know this - that the high-rollers will still come regardless - and we're guessing so do the Egyptians. & we're also guessing they will be fine with that. It's arrogance, of the tourism kind.
]]> Knights — Hamah, Syria http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1256530806/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1256530806/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1256530806/tpod.html Mon, 26 Oct 2009 00:22:08 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Hamah, Syria

· Hama, Syria· GMT +2:00hrsEntry to Follow... soon!  
]]> Celebrate — Aqaba, Jordan http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209094200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209094200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209094200/tpod.html Thu, 22 Oct 2009 02:01:26 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Aqaba, Jordan

· Aqaba, Jordan· GMT +2:00hrs  Ok so we've made it. Finally. We've escaped. We're free. We've been liberated. We are no longer in Egypt. That's good. We're in Jordan. That's even better. This is an extract from our guide book on travel in Jordan and on the Jordanian people - 'Veterans of travel in Egypt or Morocco will be pleased to learn that, as far as hassle from the locals goes, Jordan is a breeze: your experience of Jordanian people is likely to be that they are, almost without exception, decent, honest, respectful and friendly.' Super. Awesome. **ck yeah! All that loveliness aside, the fact that this isn't, thank Allah, Egypt means that it has already done enough to make us fans for life, whatever may happen from here on out. In fact, we might actually have been willing, right here & right now, to publicly state our undying love for the place if it hadn't been for the unscrupulous taxi driver who, by driving us around Aqaba's dense network of downtown streets and alleys earlier this evening, unnecessarily, shamelessly and quite obviously extended our taxi ride from the ferry terminal to our chosen hotel (thus jacking up his fare). Taking the above quote into consideration, it was a slight shock to our systems once we realised what he had done (we immediately concluded there must have been Egyptian blood in him somewhere) but we were prepared to let it slide because 1) the deed had been done and he was gone, 2) it was somewhat of a relief that, his disorientating & seemingly un-Jordanian antics aside, that he didn't try to deliver us to a hotel of his choosing, and 3) well because we were just on a happy, 'let-it-slide' buzz having finally escaped Egy... well, you know where. CelebrateIt's now 2am later that same evening/night & we are here in our Aqaba hotel room savouring an Amstel beer (or two), recalling how we spent the whole day - yep, 12 God damn hours - getting here from Nuweiba in Egypt, a mere 60km away. The Egyptians finally let us on the ferry at 5pm, it departed soon after and we finally got to Aqaba port, the only port in Jordan on the Gulf of Aqaba at the southern tip of the country, at 6:30pm. We then embarked on the extended taxi ride and had the 'finding-a-hotel-&-bartering-for-a-fair-price' chore out of the way by 8pm, meaning we've spent the last few hours taking a look around down town Aqaba... and buying beer for hotel room consumption. 'We' isn't just Pat and I any more. Nope, Brandon, fellow suffering traveller we met while on the long wait for the ferry departure earlier today, has joined up with us. Brandon will, whether he likes it or not, be part of 'the honeymoon' for the next few days, turning it into a threesome in the process. Brandon looks like an Arab, he just doesn't sound like one (we mistook him for an Arab when we first met & we're still not sure if that - him resembling an Arab - is a good thing or not). He's a 100% Californian boy, complete with the accent, and he seems to fit in well with us - meaning he has a sense of humour, he complains about Egypt and, most importantly, he likes a beer (or two). So you see, we've lots to be celebrating. Beer, new friends, and no more Egypt (and all that it entails). Oh, and we've Wadi Rum to look forward to tomorrow. Aggh yes. Things are on the up. JordanA little bit on Jordan before I get to the first of the Jordan observations. Bet you can't wait. It's a small Biblically historical, water-starved (85% of the country is desert), attraction rich but natural resource poor country at the heart of the Middle East. It has a population of some 6 million (a country with no natural resources or water but yet it still has more people than Ireland), 98% of which are Arabs, 92% of which are Sunni Muslim and 40% of which live in its modern capital, Amman (we'll be there in a few days). Because of it's geographical location it's no surprise to learn that its history is one of occupation. Never the seat of an empire, the country has always been a Europe-Asia-Africa crossroads for the Middle East's great civilisations: the Nabataeans, the Greeks, the Romans, the Byzantines, the Christian Crusaders and the Ottoman Turks, to name but a few, have all left their footprints on the land. The indigenous population, largely comprising of desert dwelling Bedouin (nomadic Arabs) tribes, tended, until independence from the Brits in 1946, to live under the thumb of governors sent from Jordan's larger and more powerful neighbours. An outwardly progressive country, its present government is something of a rarity in the region; a stable force with leanings towards democracy under a constitutional monarchy (established in 1952). It's a fine balancing act but it somehow manages to be simultaneously pro-Western & pro-Arab, founded as it was on a bedrock of Muslim authority, and dedicated to ongoing peace with Israel, who, as any Arab worth his keffiyeh (Arab headdress) will tell you, is to blame for the unrest found in the region (although not so in Jordan itself). The present King is Abdullah II, who took over from his much loved, diplomatically adept and longtime ruling father, King Hussein, following his death in 1999 (if the scene here in Aqaba is any indication - and I'm sure it is - then huge posters of both men smiling back at you are to be seen all over the country). Abdullah II has impressed most observers with his ability to protect and advance the democratic legacy of his father, although many of the tensions between tradition & modernity and Islamisation & Westernisation that grip the rest of the region remain unresolved and, as always, are a cause for concern. That said, and its turbulent past aside, Jordan is widely regarded as a peace advocating beacon in a sea of instability (it is the safest country in the region by a long way) and its people, who have an unmatched reputation for hospitality, are only one of the reasons the people who do visit Jordan rarely come away with anything but fond memories. Day 255 Observations Continued (April 24th 2008)· 1st Impressions Jordan may be, for now at least, our new best-est friend but the relationship didn't get off on the sturdiest of footing. Our first look at anything Jordanian (apart from the straight-from-Estonia ferry itself, complete with posters of Tallinn's gorgeous Old Town) was the shoddy arrivals hall in Aqaba ferry terminal (come on guys... you don't have to try too hard to top the Egyptians but still, make an effort at least). The customs guys, once they eventually decided to man their posts, seemed totally indifferent to their chores, standing as they did to one side while having a good chat amongst themselves & smoking cigarettes as we all filed past. We were, as westerners, allowed to file past first, but only once we'd been reunited with our passports. We had to give them up upon boarding the ferry in Egypt and they reappeared, some 3 hours later in Aqaba terminal, in the hand of some awfully nice official who informed us that our visas were in our passports and that there would be no charge for them (all thanks to the port being part of a designated Special Economic Zone). Sweet. 1st impressions (the terminal) were not great but things got better after that, apart from the taxi driver antics & the fact that no ATM in the town wanted to dispense money to us. · Differences I know we've only been here a few hours and thus it might be a bit soon to do this but what the hell. Here are a few stark differences that we've noticed between Aqaba (and thus, we assume, Jordan) and Egypt, differences you'd have to be Ray Charles not to notice having arrived in the former after coming from the latter.  It's more westernThis may not be an accurate reflection on the rest of the country (or indeed it may turn out to be exactly that) but Aqaba in particular is very western, or at least more so than dusty, infrastructure challenged Egypt. As I mentioned Aqaba is the country's only seaport and in 2000, as part of a hugely popular and successful economic experiment, it was designated a Special Economic Zone with tax breaks of all kinds attracting business & investment. It has had a dramatic effect on what we hear was for years a rather dowdy and uninspiring town. According to The Rough Guide to Jordan, 'business is booming, major construction projects are under way, the city is looking good, its population is growing, and there's a fresh, new buzz in the air.' Believe me, it's a far cry from Egypt, even if it is only a few km's away.  They use freshwater Noun: freshwater 'fresh'wotu(r)1. Water that is not salty Hear that Egypt? Yes, they actually have fresh water coming out of the taps here. I swear to Allah, the water spewing from our hotel room shower faucet this evening was pure heaven-sent. It was the first time in a week that we washed with fresh water and it felt good... and we ended up feeling clean, again for the 1st time in a week. Okay, so the drain drained with the speed of an egg timer - meaning the place flooded like the Titanic - but we didn't care. Jordan on a whole suffers with severe water shortages but Aqaba bucks the trend; it sits on a series of fresh water springs, springs that allowed all three of us (individually of course) to wallow in the freshwater with a guilt-free conscious (don't judge... you would have too). It's saferWe're probably not going to die here, especially if we managed to avoid that fate in Egypt. You see, Jordanians seem a more passive, relaxed, more laid-back race and no one, unlike the pinball Egyptians on the streets of Egypt, seems to be in much of a hurry to go anywhere (granted it was late in the evening when we made this observation but still, regardless of the time, it was observed and commented on nonetheless). Also, the Jordanians seem to respect human life & they even tolerate sharing their roads with same; they don't drive like maniacs, they don't sit on the horn, and they actually use their headlights in the dark (and their cars don't look like they are one severe corner away from falling apart either). But the biggest and most obvious contrast is that the Jordanians, get this, actually stop for pedestrians at pedestrian crossings. I shit you not. We couldn't believe it this evening when cars came to a halt as we were getting ready for an Egyptian style 'take-your-life-in-your-own-hands-and-may-the-best-man/vehicle-win' dash across the road. The drivers even took time to return our stunned 'thank you Mr. Local' wave with one of their own and an accompanying smile that clearly said 'Welcome to Jordan, Johnny foreigner.' One more safety advocating difference - there's not a gun wielding guard to be seen anywhere. According, once again, to The Rough Guide, 'no violent group exists within Jordan that holds any grievances against the country, its people, government or tourism policy and the political & religious make-up of Jordanian society makes domestic terrorism exceptionally unlikely.'Exceptionally unlikely. Now that's a lot more comforting than just a plain old 'unlikely.' So not only are you less likely, compared to Egypt, to die here as a result of getting run over by a maniac motorist, but you're also less likely to die as a result of any sort of terrorism or civil disorder. All of which is great because we, all three of us, have the rest of this country to see... and we now like our chances of survival. ..ps: Okay okay... no more Egypt bashing. I promise, and I'm a man of my word. It seems, upon reflection of this entry, that I couldn't highlight a positive about Jordan without mentioning a corresponding negative in Egypt. I'm sorry, it is because of the just-recently-removed-from-Egypt mind frame I find myself in right now. But enough. Go Egypt! You rock.
]]> Under Construction — Dubai, United Arab Emirates http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1207684800/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1207684800/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1207684800/tpod.html Fri, 31 Jul 2009 05:09:03 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Dubai, United Arab Emirates

· Dubai, United Arab Emirates · GMT +4:00hrs"build it and they will come"  - Kevin Costner, Field of Dreams Under constructionDubai, the jewel of the Arab world, is one of the 7 emirates that make up the oil-rich Persian Gulf country, The United Arab Emirates. The tiny emirate, twice the size of London, is a kingdom built on the profits of its oil reserves and so one shouldn't be surprised to learn (we weren't) that this is one of the richest places in the Arab world (one can positively smell the aroma of money wafting through the stifling air). But that hasn't always been the case. Nope, as little as 60 years ago Dubai was a small trading town built on a humble creek. But oh how things have changed. A complete turnabout face has totally transformed this place and today it is now famous for trade, gold and all things luxury. Oh, and of course it's also famous for its oil... famous for now that is becasue it's estimated that by 2016 the oil reserves will have run out, spelling disaster for the oil-dependent economy. With this knowledge Dubai has been forced to reinvent itself once again, and find new sources of income, and none other than the crown Prince himself is onto the task; he has a multibillion dollar plan to save his emirate, and thus the country, by rebranding it and transforming it into nothing less than the world's number one luxury tourist destination. Yep, just like that. And with a plan in place for well over a decade now the Arabs certainly can't be accused of not giving it their best shot. They have gone to some outrageous, almost superhuman lengths in an attempt to put Dubai on the high rolling tourist map: they have constructed, or are constructing, world class golf courses, race tracks, legions of luxury hotels, multimillion dollar apartment complexes, shopping malls, massive manmade islands and, for good measure, the world tallest building. The aim is to attract some 15 million people annually to spend their money here, 3 times the present figure. But that in itself causes problems, namely problems of space. With only 72km of coastline, there wouldn't be enough room for all the extra people. So what do the Arabs do to solve this issue? Well, they build islands of course, huge cities at sea with not only more space for all to enjoy but with yet more shopping malls, restaurants, exculsive multimillion dollar private beach villas, marinas, water theme parks, health spas & luxury hotels. And that's what they have been doing 24/7, 365 days a year since August 2001; reclaiming land at an almost impossible rate and building massive offshore archipelagos in the process, 3 of which are in the shape of palm trees and another being an island mock-up of the globe (not content with putting Dubai on the map, they put the map on Dubai). The result of all this madness means that Dubai can now boast of having over 1500km of sun-drenched, white sand coastline, manmade or otherwise. Problem solved. Yes, build it and they will come, or so the Arabs hope. BlingDubai really is quite the place. Unless you like shopping or are the sort of person who gets off on viewing large scale construction projects (both on and offshore) then there isn't much to do here, apart from sweat and spend money (and the more of the latter that you have the better). As noted, the whole place has been built, or is being built, to attract tourists and the tourist dollar. Yes, the city can trace its origins to a small 1830's fishing village but today Dubai is all about development, air-conditioned duty free shopping centres, jewellery shops, palm trees lining manicured sprinkled lawns, 5 star hotels, celebrity chief restaurants and chauffeur driven Arabs. It's all bling bling, Arab style. Dubai... but why?We got off the bus from Muscat at 10pm two nights ago. We had no idea where in the city we were (the outskirts we assumed), we had no map, we had no information on the city other than a hotel name and we had no local currency (the UAE dirham). Somehow we made it to The Piccadilly Hotel on Nasser Square (actually, it was as a result of Pat finding an ATM, acquiring some cash and us hopping into a taxi) which, at 375AED a night (€66), is one of the cheapest places in town (but still a fortune to us two-days-removed-from-India penny pinchers). We didn't really have anything we wanted to do here, apart from just being here, but we have spent yesterday and this morning visiting the city gold and spice souqs (markets) and getting our picture in front of the 7-star Burj Al Arab hotel which, assuming your feet stay firmly on terra firma, is about the closest thing Dubai has to a recognisable landmark. We also found time to book our flights to our next stop, Cairo, get drunk in The Irish Village, the only Irish bar in the city, and do a bit of shopping in one of Dubai's legendary shopping centres, one we visited to escape the 36 degree plus temperatures (even if we did walk for hours in the baking sun to get there). All those 'activities' saw us spending not only two nights in the city but also a small fortune and brought to an end our 3 night stop-off on the Arabian Peninsula en route to Egypt. Later this afternoon we have our flight to Cairo which is good; we have got to get somewhere cheap to stop this financial haemorrhaging. Egypt, we need you, we think. Day 237 to 239 Observations (April 6th to April 8th 2008)· A tip. Don't try so hardMaybe it was my fault. Maybe I shouldn't have tipped so generously the Piccadilly Hotel porter who unnecessarily showed us to our room shortly after arriving. A few minutes later another porter knocked at the door of our room to know if everything was okay?"Super , no bother. Cheers for asking," we answered.He then noticed, shock horror, that everything with our room was anything but 'super'. The perfectly adequate TV sitting in the corner of our room had no remote control so he left to return minutes later with a replacement TV complete with remote control. This 'service' may have warranted a tip had we requested the TV be replaced but as we hadn't the porter left the room tip-less and no doubt grumbling that we weren't as generous as his mate had no doubt informed him we were. Don't these guys know we're backpackers? I mean, it's kind of obvious. · Rock Stars "Last night Muscat, the night before Mumbai, tonight Dubai & in two night's time we'll be in Cairo. We're like a band on tour," Pat proclaimed shortly after settling into the Piccadilly Hotel and seeing off the latest tip-hunting porter. "I suppose Lad, but I doubt any stars that do find themselves in Dubai frequent the Piccadilly Hotel." · Hard Hats RequiredLook at a map, any map, of Dubai and you're likely to see 'U/C' printed all over it (ours do). It goes some way to highlight the scale of the construction going on over here (they should give everyone a hard hat upon arrival at the airport or border croissings). Another way to get an appreciation for the seemingly unbridled development is to take a taxi ride. You're never too far from a sea of cranes building the latest and greatest skyscraper, an army of earthmover's reclaiming more land from the Arabian Gulf or vast tracts of desert landscape been turned into the newest 'Pleasure Village' complete with platinum card shopping centres, must have condos & sea-view apartments. It all leaves no doubt in our minds that there is indeed a lot of money in oil (U.A.E. is, for now, the 5th largest oil producer in the world). We estimate that if they keep building off-shore islands at the rate they are building them then by 2020 they should succeed in building a land bridge across the Arabian Gulf to the shores of Iran, some 200km away. Check out the madness on Google Earth. · Heads upA word of warning for the guys out there. Don't take your girlfriend or wife (assuming she hasn't already cheated on you) to Dubai. It's full of expensive hotels, duty free shopping centres and jewellery shops. She might love you for it but your credit card won't. · Jo MaxiTaxis are quite cheap over here in Dubai, which is good considering you don't really want to be out in the sun for any longer than you absolutely have to, distances are vast and the chronic traffic means going from A to B will take a lot longer than it should. We spent 2 hours in a taxi earlier today going to and from the 7-star Burj Al Arab hotel, somewhere we naively thought we could walk to when we first opened a map of Dubai. The bad news? Getting a taxi in the first place might take time too. We had to walk for a few km's last night before we eventually hailed a taxi to take us the rest of the way to the Irish Village. Yep, we earned our night out. Cheers.
]]> Je t'adore — Paris, France http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1187704620/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1187704620/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1187704620/tpod.html Sun, 05 Oct 2008 06:22:16 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Paris, France

· Paris, France· GMT +1:00 hourChecking inRight, so it's been a while since the last entry. But that's okay; we've been busy. Busy walking. We've just completed our four days in Paris and as I type we're on the high-speed TGV heading for Dijon, in the east of the country about 300km from Paris. It's been quite a manic few days. So manic the only opportunity I got to get near the laptop was to download pictures of our days sightseeing. So now, as Meg sleeps beside me, I'm entrusted with the responsibility of conveying to any of you who care (we know there are a few of you out there) how we're getting on. With that said let me summarize our activities since we turned into Parisian tourists proper last Saturday. I say summarize realising more than anyone that once I get going I do have a tendency to ramble. So bear with me. Oh, and don't forget to check out all the pictures from this entry, the best of which are dotted throughout the entry in thumbnail form. We do realise there are quite a few of them but they do, of course, supplement the entry (or at least they aim to). Now, on with the show.Day 5 - Saturday, August 18th 2007 - Countless footsteps - and sights We spent the whole day on the streets of Paris, exhaustively walking between one sight and another. Btw, I referred to this in the last entry but yes, central Paris is eminently walk able, but at the same time exhausting. We started at the Arc de Triomphe where we commented on how it looks bigger in person, how busy the traffic that circles it is (Ì read somewhere it's actually the biggest OR busiest traffic junction in the world - not sure which) and how beautiful the day was. From there we walked to one of Paris' typically leafy boulevards to the Eiffel Tower. We commented on how the tower really does look cool up close (Meg liked the chocolate brown colour more than anything). We also commented on how the whole place looked like a mass tourist circus (glow-in-the-dark Eiffel Tower anyone?) and how we'd hold off heading up the tower until night time when it's an altogether more relaxing, less coronary-inducing experience. We then took a stroll along the banks of the Seine, passing the unofficial Princess Diana memorial, to Place de la Concorde, another huge traffic junction in the centre of Paris with tons of space and history: Louis XIV and Marie-Antoinette, amongst others, where guillotined here. Then it was onto Tuileries gardens, a formal French garden par excellence, at least in days gone by when it was the favoured hangout of French nobility.... today it's overrun with tourists like us and the same brand of tacky souvenir seller you find at any Paris landmark. Then it was onto the stunning Palais du Louvre, a former royal residence but now the home of the Louvre museum, complete with its signature glass pyramid. Standing there looking at the queues snaking into the main entrance we wondered how early in the morning we'd have to get here to avoid being part of that. As it turns out we didn't have to queue at all (but more on that later). Continuing by the Seine we crossed over into the island in the Seine that is the oldest part of the city, Île de la Cité. Its prime attraction is Notre-Dame Cathedral, where we were lucky to get a free guided tour. Then with fatigue setting in we headed to the nearby Latin Quarter to see The Pantheon, before heading back towards The Louvre via St. Sulpice Church, the same St. Sulpice Church that houses the Rose Line (anyone who read or, God forbid, saw the Di Vinci Code will know what I'm on about). Once we got back to The Louvre we retraced our steps to Place de la Concorde and began strolling up les Champs-Élysées, Paris' most famous avenue. Seen from a distance it's an impressive sight, but close up can be a little disappointing, with its constant stream of traffic and fast-food outlets, airline offices and chain stores. It does have tourist offices; offices that, we noted, sell advance museum tickets. A few minutes later we were on the subway back to the hotel in position of two tickets for The Louvre for the following day. Tickets that for an extra €0.70 above face value, gave us priority access with the guarantee of no queuing. Super. That evening we relaxed on our balcony with a picnic fit for... well, us I guess. Bliss. Day 6 - Sunday, August 19th 2007 - Countless people - and works of artOur 'priority access' to the Louvre made us feel very special....sort of like getting a side door into a big concert. It meant we didn't have to queue (which was great) but it didn't count for anything once we got inside the museum itself. We soon felt like nothing more than 2 more ants in an anthill. A busy anthill. Even 40 minutes after the doors opened the place was packed. And it's a big place. It can hold a lot of people (ants). In hindsight what we did, making a beeline straight for the Mona Lisa, was not the best thing to do. Why? Well, because everyone else had the same idea, meaning we could only just about catch a distant, quick and immensely frustrating glance at the museums prized possession before we managed to overcome the paparazzi-style rugby scrum surrounding her and retreat to a quieter part of the museum, that being one of the areas that interested Meg (French & Flemish 16th - 19th century art & Italian sculptures). I'll admit now that I'm not really sure if I was actually looking forward to our day in the Louvre (we were always going to be spending a whole day there). I'm no lover of art. Hey, I'd never even been in an art gallery before. Art is not something I've ever been exposed to, or had reason to be exposed to, and I would only ever look at a so-called masterpiece, be it on the Internet or in print, to figure out why it was deemed such. In saying that however, the day we spent at the Louvre was enjoyable. For me, surprisingly so. To avoid total museum burnout we made sure to take a break halfway through the day for lunch. We left the palace and returned to embrace the crowds and view the Italian and French masterpieces of the Grand Gallery area, the always-busy section of the museum where our day started that houses, amongst others, The Mona Lisa, Madonna on the Rocks, Madonna, Child and St. Anne and The Raft of Medusa (if you recognise any of those beyond The Mona Lisa then you know/knew more about paintings than me). We had assumed that late in the afternoon the crowds would be thinner making viewing the paintings that line the 400 meter long gallery more bearable. We were right. While it was still busy, we were able to peruse the paintings at our pleasure. Good job. The day ended as frustrating as it started. We tried to get the subway home from the Eiffel Tower having taken a few night time pictures (no, we hadn't yet ventured up). We had no change, the machine wouldn't accept a credit card and there was no option to cash a note (a bill, for you Canadians). So we found ourselves walking back to the hotel, normally an enjoyable one and a half hour walk. But not at one in the morning, not when you've spent the day traipsing around the Louvre and especially not when it's raining. Needless to say we were glad to get to bed that night, even if it was at 2am. Day 7 - Monday, August 20th 2007 - Two lows - and a highDay 7, and our 3rd full day in Paris, didn't quite go to plan. We had set aside today for an excursion out of Paris to visit the massively opulent Palace of Versailles, most famously known as the royal retreat of Louis XIV and his wife, Marie-Antoinette. Meg had studied Marie-Antoinette and was keen to see the site. As was I (we'd both recently watched the movie Marie-Antoinette in a sort of preparation for the visit). Construction began in 1664 and lasted virtually until Louis XIV's death in 1715. Second only to God, and the head of an immensely powerful state, Louis XIV was an institution rather than a private individual. His risings and sittings, comings and goings, were minutely regulated and rigidly encased in ceremony, attendance at which was an honour much sought after by courtiers. Versailles was the headquarters of every arm of the state. More than 20,000 people - nobles, administrative staff, merchants, soldiers and servants - lived in the palace in a state of unhygienic squalor, according to contemporary accounts. Not that we could verify all this. You see, most tourist-related sites are closed in France on a Monday and Versailles was no exception. At least we, or I should say Meg, discovered this prior to leaving Paris. So we decided to visit The Catacombs (more on that later) instead and attempt to get to Versailles tomorrow. The only problem was the Catacombs were closed as well. This we did only discover having made our way there, via Montmartre cemetery. Bummer. So we walked back to the hotel, relaxed and passed some time until we deemed it dark enough to pay the Eiffel Tower a visit. This time we did make it up for some nice views of night-time Paris. It was another late night and we got to bed at 1am.Day 8 - Tuesday, August 21st - Final Day - final chance to get to Versailles Leaving Paris day. We had a 3pm departure to Dijon and hoped to get to Versailles for at least a few hours before hand. So we rose early again and lugged our bags across the city to the Gare de Lyon where, having put our bags in storage, we were informed by the station information desk that, with a 3pm departure, we wouldn't make it to Versailles and back. After the disappointment of that we decided, again, to go to the Catacombs, a disused 16th century quarry that now houses the skeletal remains of some 6 million Parisians stacked neatly in tunnels 20 meters under ground. A sign outside warns that claustrophobics and people of a nervous disposition might think twice about visiting the site. Eerie but good. See the pictures for more. We then went back to the train station for the train to Dijon.... where you find me typing this. Checking OutAnd so that brings an end tp our time in Paris. It's been an enjoyable but tiring few days and we'll be the first to admit that we're looking forward to the change of pace that Dijon will bring. In Dijon we plan on using our trusty alarm clock to solely tell us the time and not to wake us like it did on a daily basis in Paris. But before we say goodbye to Paris altogether let us present a few observations we've had over the last 4 days. Oh, and we'll remind you one more time that there are quite a few pictures (30 to be precise) attached to this entry and that you should, of course, check them out. We've kept the captions, wherever possible, to a minimum so hopefully it won't be too much of a chore to flick through them. Day 5 to Day 8 Observations (August 18th to 21st 2007)· What's with this weather?We got to wear 'summer clothes' on Saturday (hence most of the pictures attached are from that day) but since then it's been dull, overcast and cold. Isn't it August? And another thing. There are leaves falling from the trees on some of Paris' boulevards. Again, in August?· What's that smell?A lot of the subway stations smell of urine. We figure it's because it costs money to relieve oneself. Having commented on the phenomenon or having to pay-to-go when visiting Poland in March 2006, I now realise it must be the continental Europe thing to do; they don't seem to have public toilets, free public toilets, like we do in Ireland and Canada. Better get used to it, I guess. · White to RedWhile we're normally white wine drinkers it seems we've taken to red wine these days. In the absence of a fridge it just seemed the right thing to do. But that's okay; it's nice. Are we totally converted? Not quite, but we're getting there. Oh, and in the absence of a corkscrew we go for the bottle with a twist off lid. See how adaptable we are. · Timmies neededWe know it's part of Parisian culture but EVERY street corner has a café with patio chairs and waiter/Garçon, service. They all offer the same €3 espresso (the coffee of choice) or €5 latté. · There are pigeons everywhereEverywhere, even in the train stations. While I'm not a fan, they generally don't bother me. But Meg shivers when she sees them. She's said on more than one occasion that if they ever touch her she will die. · Monday closuresWe alluded to this in the entry but things close on a Monday. Even in the height of summer. Weird. And remember we commented that Caen, our first stop, was a ghost town when we arrived on August 15th? Well, we since discovered that was a holiday, a holiday that for many business marks the start of a 2 or 3 week closure. Total closure, with a sign on the door advertising the reopening date. Imagine a business in Ireland or Canada closing its doors for 2-3 weeks in the middle of summer for a 'holiday'. · Young PersonMeg wanted to tell you all that over here she's deemed 'a young person'. I think it's just her way of letting you all know that I'm that bit older (and therefore imminently wiser). Some sights deem a young person to be 26 and below. It cuts on the admission costs and gets me a gentle reminder exactly how I'm that bit older, and thus wiser.
]]> The Ten Commandments of Egyptian Travel — Nuweiba, Red Sea and Sinai, Egypt http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209058200/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209058200/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1209058200/tpod.html Sat, 27 Sep 2008 08:48:44 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Nuweiba, Red Sea and Sinai, Egypt

· Nuweiba, Sinai Peninsula, Egypt · GMT +2hrsDoneIf we thought, which we did, that leaving Dahab was difficult then it's nothing compared to the difficulties we're experiencing trying to leave Egypt itself. To leave Dahab, which we finally did this morning after spending 6 nights there, all we had to do was pay a visit to Mt. Sinai and drag ourselves out of the lazy comfort-zone one can find themselves falling into when they encounter Dahab, its cafes & bars. Done & done. Then all we had to do was hop in a minibus taxi and head one hour north to a place called Nuweiba from where the ferry to Aqaba in Jordan departs from. Done. All we had to do then, we assumed, was to buy tickets for the aforementioned ferry, pay our departure tax, get stamped out of the country and wave goodbye to Egypt from the deck of the ferry. Well, things didn't quite work out as assumed (definitely not done). We knew, or thought we knew, the departure times and fare for the ferry. But we also knew this was Egypt and if spending 15 days in the country up to now had taught us anything it was that things are never as straightforward as they would be in any 'normal' country, or the majority of countries not called Egypt. "No tickets... no, no" is what we heard from the 'obviously-having-a-bad-day' employee manning the ticket office counter shortly after sauntering into the shambolic open-air ticket office compound. We both took turns trying to extrapolate more information from him but the only reply we seemed to get to our "why can't we buy tickets? when does the ferry run?" or "why don't you want to talk to us?" questions was "No tickets", "I don't know" or "come back 8pm," all accompanied with a dismissive shake of the hand and/or head. "So we can buy tickets at 8pm?" Pat, he with the patience of a Saint, inquired as I was steaming in the far corner of the compound cursing all things Egyptian."Maybe," was the reply he got.At this stage our patience (yes, even Pat's but mine especially) was at an all-time low. We left Dahab earlier today deciding that we'd just about had enough of Egypt and that Egypt had probably just about had enough of us too. The fact that it looked like we'd now have to spend at least one more night in the country with the possibility of only "maybe" getting tickets for tomorrows ferry, assuming there is a ferry tomorrow, didn't particularly sit well with either of us. But nonetheless, with limited (read no) options it was a fate we resigned ourselves to as we stood there in the ticket office compound. Soft Beach Camp A taxi took us to nearby Soft Beach Camp, a Dahab style Bedouin camp that actually fronted a beach, one with sand. Real sand. The camp offered the usual 'activities,' activities that occupied our time for most of the afternoon; lounging around (done), reading (done), eating (done), drinking (done) & water gazing (done). The same taxi driver then took us back to the ferry ticket office at 8pm where we heard the same lines from the same 'now-obviously-having-a-bad-evening' ticket office employee that we had attempted to speak to some 9 hours earlier. "F***k it Lad! We're not getting anything out of this guy. Let's just go back to Soft Beach Camp and have a few more beers. We'll try again in the morning." Done. Day 253 & 254 Observations (April 22nd & 23rd 2008) · BookwormIn the past 7 days Pat has gotten through 6 books, a number that would be higher if it wasn't for the bars of Dahab. Me? Well I spent the time writing up 8 Travelpod entries, entries I doubt I'll get to upload for weeks. · 'Normal' countriesWe had one of those conversations earlier this evening as we relaxed with a few beers here at Soft Beach Camp, one of those silly conversations in which we have no problems at all making wide and sweeping generalisations that effect large numbers of people. It was born out of today's trying events, the incessant scamming, un-paralleled gouging and general difficulties that all independent travellers, we assume, experience in Egypt (there's a generalisation within a generalisation) and it had us producing a list of what we deem to be 'normal' countries. The list we came up with was small enough, it didn't, surprise surprise, include Egypt and with the possible exception, at a push, of the United Arab Emirates, it didn't include any of the other countries we've passed through since Pat became part of 'The Honeymoon' in Beijing back on February 14th. For the record, where myself and Pat us the word 'normal' those in the know (economists, the International Monetary Fund, & the CIA... yep, the CIA) use the word 'developed' and list, so says this Wikipedia page, the following countries as such - Canada, the United States, Japan, South Korea, Israel, Malta, Singapore, Slovenia, Taiwan, Australia, New Zealand, & most countries in North & Western Europe. Fyi, for all Dubai's money, bling, 7-star hotels and flashy look-at-us skyscrapers, it's not enough to push the U.A.E. onto the list of so-called 'developed' countries. Why? Well, because its economy depends overwhelmingly on oil production of course. · 10 Commandments of Egyptian TravelSo there I was sitting atop of Mt. Sinai yesterday afternoon waiting for the sunset, lost in my thoughts and gazing blankly out over the desolate Sinai Peninsula, when all of a sudden the small bush beside me began to spontaneously combust. It was obviously a sign. Then a deep, booming voice began speaking to me. Only to me. The voice informed me that I was the chosen one, the one chosen to convey to the populous 'The Ten Commandments of Egyptian Travel'. So as God's chosen medium on the subject, and without any further adieu, may I present... The Ten Commandments of Egyptian TravelCommandment IThou shall not take the countries name in vain when you are overcharged, short-changed or when you are galled by having to seemingly pay twice to see certain attractions Commandment IIThou shall remember that posted opening times on buildings and travel schedules are arbitrary at best and that buildings will open and all schedules will be followed 'sha' Allah' (God willing) Commandment IIIThou shall be in possession of ones passport at all times when moving around to appease the many unofficial looking 'officials' who will covet a look at itCommandment IVThou shall remember to visit Drinkies at least once a day to pay homage to their glorious wall of Stella beer bottles Commandment VThou shall not be tempted to kill in response to the utterance of the words "it is good for you," "where are you from?" "full," "complete" or "closed" no matter how many times you hear themCommandment VIThou shall always check ones change after making a purchaseCommandment VIIThou shall honor thy local buffering you from the oncoming traffic as you cross Egypt's roadsCommandment VIIIThou shall make an effort to learn Arabic number symbolsCommandment IXThou shall give baksheesh only when the service warrants baksheesh and not because it's simply expectedCommandment XThou shall not bear any grudges or cause any harm to the touts who will endlessly harass you
]]> Un-Indian — Chandigarh, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1206324000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1206324000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1206324000/tpod.html Tue, 23 Sep 2008 09:54:26 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Chandigarh, India

· Chandigarh, Punjab, India · GMT +5:30hrs'symbolic to the future of India, unfettered by the traditions of the past, and an expression of the nation's faith in the future' - Jawaharlal Nehru, India's first post-British leader on his vision for ChandigarhUn-IndianWe're in a place called Chandigarh, the capital city of the Punjab region of India, north-west of Delhi. Yep, we're definitely still in India, even if this place doesn't look or feel like the India we've spent the last 8 days dealing with. We got here yesterday morning and the un-Indianness (my word, bear with me please) started even before we got here; we were pampered with tea, biscuits and a hot breakfast on the fast 3 & a half hour train ride from Delhi. Yes, we felt special, even if it did make sense to us as we sat looking into our tinfoil boxes of fried egg and sausages as to why our train tickets were so expensive. It was Pat's idea to come here. He wanted to visit the Rock Garden (more on that later) which, as it turned out, was reason alone for coming here. But having spent the last 36 hours here we now know that there are many fine reasons for paying this most un-Indian of Indian cities a visit, not least because it's different. Very different. You see, it is a modern, laid-back, clean sort of a place that actually seems to work. It's all very un-Indian, even though there are tons of them around (Indians, albeit Sikh Indians, that is). Chandigarh. It's all the Brits FaultRemember how I said in a previous entry from Varanasi (of course you do) that when the Brits pulled out of India in 1947 the country was partitioned, creating Pakistan? Well it was the Punjab region of the country that was dissected to make room for the new Muslim-heavy country and when all was said and done its, Punjab's, former capital, Lahore, fell on the Pakistani side of the fence. That left, whoops, the now smaller Punjab region without a capital city and as a result a Swiss-French architect by the name of Charles-Edouard Jeanneret was called in and entrusted with the responsibility of designing and building a capital city, one "symbolic to the future of India, unfettered by the traditions of the past, and an expression of the nation's faith in the future," so waffled the then Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, India's first post-British leader. Construction of the ground-breaking experiment in town planning began in 1952, but the city, comprising of over 60 orderly spaced grids, or sectors, wasn't completed until the 1960's. Wide, tree lined, & cow-free (again un-Indian) streets separate the sectors and with roadside signs spaced every few hundred metres identifying the different sectors one could surely be excused for believing they were in a military compound or on some otherworld colony; our accommodation, the palatial Transit Lodge, can be found in Sector 17, The Rock Garden borders Sectors 4 & 5, and Sector 22, clearly the most important sector, is where one will find the off-license. Extensive areas of greenery, a few gardens & tons of colourful shrubbery add to the whole un-Indian feel of the city, making the place feel more North American, less North Indian (the city layout - but only the layout mind you - actually reminded me of Canberra, the Australian capital, another planned 20th century city). From a map viewing and walking point of view it's all quite boring and very spread out, but despite its aesthetic shortcomings the city residents are quite proud of their home; it's greener, cleaner and more affluent than other Indian cities of comparable size. Oh, and they have the Rock Garden too. This place rocksThe Rock Garden is a place that belies the ordered city surrounding it. It's a bizarre, haphazard, open-air sculpture garden, a surreal fantasy land fashioned from assorted urban-industrial junk, pebbles, broken plates, pots, and bangles. It's a labyrinth of different enclosures interconnected by narrow passages, low doors (the place was seemingly built for Hobbits) arched walkways, bridges, streams, water features and grottos. Construction began in 1965 by a terminally bored local called Nek Chand, someone who having recently retired had, evidently, way too much time on his hands (he says the whole idea was inspired by a childhood dream/nightmare). By the time the garden was 'discovered' in 1973 it covered 12-acres (how anyone can hide 12-acres of anything in India for not 1, not 2, but 8 years is beyond us) and although the 12-acre site was completely illegal it went on to be recognised as a great artistic endeavour that should be put on display for all to see. So, rather than getting thrown in jail for his 8 years of toil, Nek, who has since been praised internationally for his 'artistic ingenuity', was given a salary and a workforce to continue his now not-very-little and now not-very-secret project. The site, now measuring 25-acres, was opened to the public in 1976 and today it's the second most visited tourist attraction in India after the Taj Mahal, another statistic our book has us sceptics doubting. We spent a few hours yesterday afternoon taking in the 'delights' of the Rock Garden, somewhere Pat seemed to appreciate more than me (check out the pictures). You could say he got his rocks off, but that would be just too lame. So so lame. From Rocks to RosesI have that Lynn Anderson song '(I Never Promised You A) Rose Garden' whirling around inside my head. I'm not happy about that fact and yes, I'm having difficulty shaking it (it's a clinger on'er, that's for sure). It's been there for the last 4 or 5 hours, pretty much since the time we wandered into the 27-acre Chandigarh Rose Garden, the biggest such garden in Asia (so says the sign out front). We've spent most of the afternoon today just lazing here on the grass, taking in the sun, and killing time ahead of our evening return to Delhi. It certainly doesn't feel like India in here either; it's quiet, picturesque, clean, & hassle free. And with attractive, colourful sari-wearing Indians walking sedately amongst the 1,600 varieties of roses one could be forgiven for thinking they had died and gone straight to Indian heaven (Pat counters my sporadic bursts of the chorus of 'Rose Garden' with the chorus of that Beautiful South song 'Rotterdam', the one that goes something like 'This could be Rotterdam or anywhere, Liverpool or Rome' ... anywhere but, eh, India ... we add the last bit ourselves, which seems to make us both laugh everytime). We'll be shaken out of this oh so Un-Indian bubble when we leave here for the return to Delhi in a few hours. At least we know what to expect in Delhi. This Chandigarh un-Indianness is, in a very unexpectant way, unnerving. Is someone playing a trick on us? We need the old reliables of anarchy, noise, dirt, sweat, pollution, touts offering us stuff we don't need/want... and I need to get this song out of my head. Day 223 & 224 Observations (March 23rd & 24th 2008)· No... dignityThe sight from the train window as we rolled out of Delhi yesterday morning of groups of humans relieving themselves on mass by the side of the tracks sort of put us off our Indian Rail breakfast. The fact that there were groups of men no doubt catching up on the local slum gossip as they squatted and tended to business showed us how undignified their existence is. Sad, and a real eye opener. · No... dutyChandigarh is our sort of place and if we had, stress had, to live anywhere in India it would probably be here. It's cleaner, it's greener, and it's more affluent than other Indian cities of comparable size, all of which is great. But the clincher for us is that beer is sold here duty free, and unlike other parts of India you don't draw attention to yourself by simply buying beers in an off-license. It's all because of the local Sikhs, the turban wearing Indians who make up the majority of the Punjab population. They are a liberal lot who like to have fun; they drink more per-capita than any other race of Indians, making them our favourite type of Indians by far. As I said, this is as close to 'our sort of place' that we're likely to find in a country that isn't us at all. · No... one like usWe haven't seen one fellow westerner while we've been here in Chandigarh. Not one. Not even in the Rock Garden (or at the off-license). India is of course big enough to absorb a lot of us without us actually having to bump into each other but still, it's kind of unusual not to see another western face, especially considering the Rock Garden's claim as the 2nd most visited site/attraction in the country. Now do you see why we're such sceptics? · No... rocksConsidering its name there aren't too many actual rocks (a lump or mass of hard consolidated mineral matter) in the Chandigarh Rock Garden. A more apt name would be the 'Detritus Garden,' the 'Broken Pottery Garden,' or even the 'Silly Statue Garden'. · Getting readyPat wanted to go sunbathing today. He said he wants to get ready for our upcoming arrival to the beaches of Goa. I'm not quite sure how sunbathing would do that but hey, luckily for him we found the Rose Garden this afternoon. Luckily for all in the garden he kept his top on. · Will he, won't he?As we were killing time in the Rose Garden earlier today we got to talking about certain aspects of home that we both missed. Pat's list was an interesting one (mine wasn't). It included brown bread, cooking for himself, internet that works, his car, local pubs, cleanliness and, oh yeah, logic. I have my doubts if Pat will last to the end of this trip and I'm hoping 5 days on a beach in Goa will see him right as rain, his batteries fully recharged and raring to go. Hang in there Lad.
]]> The Interrogation — On the train to Goa, India http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1206666000/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1206666000/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1206666000/tpod.html Thu, 18 Sep 2008 13:30:47 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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On the train to Goa, India

· On the Goa Express to, em, Goa, India · GMT +5:30hrsThe InterrogationWe seem to be spending a lot of time on Indian trains lately. We´ve been on this train, the Goa Express, for 31 hours now and there are still about 8 more to go. We´ve already spent 1 night on-board and we´re about to settle in for night number 2. When you spend two nights on a train, even on a slow Indian one (which this one isn´t; slow that is... after all it´s an Express), you know you´re going a long way. 1,700km is a long way. That´s the approximate distance between the Indian capital of Delhi (where we left at 3pm yesterday) and Goa, on the Indian Arabian Sea coast, where we´re headed to. It´s been a fairly uneventful 31 hours so far. We´ve both spent the majority of the time in our upper level bunks, reading and banging our heads on the roof of the 3rd class compartment carriage we´re in. I always like having upper bunks. Yeah, you´re right beside the air-con unit and if you happen to fall out of bed you´re in trouble but, that aside, having an upper bunk is good because it gives us somewhere to escape to if you need to... and we have needed to. An Indian family `shared´ the 6-berth compartment with us from the time we left Delhi until 11a.m. this morning. I say `shared´ but they, and the 2 large suitcases each of them brought on-board, sort of took over the limited space of the compartment, somewhat forcing us to take refuge in our bunks. Not that we minded too much. We had our books. It´s now 9:30p.m. and we´re due into Goa at 5:30a.m. in the morning. We´re hoping to get a good, albeit short, nights sleep tonight as neither of us did last night. I wonder why that was. Day 226 & 227 Observations (March 26th & 27th 2008)· The scammer head offBefore we got the train yesterday we spent our last few hours in Delhi having a quick look around areas of Old Delhi, the old Muslim area of the city. It´s a chaotic mess of roads, madness and dirt and I´ve no doubt the British decided to build a whole new city (New Delhi) just so they didn´t have to try clean up Old Delhi. Anyway, we were in the courtyard of the Jama Masjid, India´s largest mosque, when we were approached by 3 Japanese tourists. They asked us how much we were charged to get into the mosque. "Nothing, it´s free", we said, "except for your camera... you pay 200 rupees to bring that in."They looked at us blankly before telling us they had been charged 200 rupees each, plus 200 rupees for their camera. Someone had pocketed a handy 800 rupees (over €13) from them. "Where is he?", we asked, before marching over and confronting him.We knew even before speaking to him that he wasn´t the sharpest tool in the box; if he had any intelligence - or if he wasn´t so greedy - he´d have scampered as soon as he made that easy 800 rupees. We caused quite a scene, and attracted quite a gathering, as both myself and Pat (mostly Pat) stood toe to toe with him demanding me give the Japanese tourists their money back, the money he had extorted out of them as an entrance fee for the free-to-enter mosque. We were having none of his "I´m a member of staff" proclamations and he eventually, and very reluctantly, gave all the money back. We walked away proud as punch having done what we did, the scammer growling at us with a look on his face that said he wanted to put us in a tandoor oven. Pat had mentioned to me only hours earlier how it wouldn't take much provocation for him to "deck" an Indian out of sheer 'we-have-been-in-India-too-long' frustration (spending time in Indian cities can do that to you). That guy was lucky he wasn't the recipient of a Pat special. · Ripped offI feel like a greenhorn. After preventing a scam in Delhi earlier in the day yesterday, it´s kind of ironic then that I go and get ripped off later that same day. Yep, I was short changed 200 rupees (a little over €3) in Agra train station as I bought water from a platform vendor while our train made a brief stop. He, the vendor and obviously knowing what he was doing, deliberately stalled giving me my change, waiting until the train started to pull away before thrusting a wad of notes, my change minus 200 rupees, into my hand. I hadn´t time to check the change there and then and only discovered the shortfall having scrambled back onto the moving train. It pissed me off a lot. I´m not sure what pissed me off more - the fact that he ripped me off or the fact that I let it happen. It´s sad to say but you have got to be on your guard in India against stuff like that... and I let mine down. · A new manPat is in a hell of a good mood, and has been since we left Delhi yesterday (weird considering we're cooped up in a 3rd class carriage of an Indian train). How good a mood? Well, he even tipped the auto-rickshaw guy who brought us to the train station in Delhi yesterday to get the train we find ourselves on right now. That´s how good a mood. I guess he knows he´s getting to the beach soon. · Just wondering, that´s allA question for any Indians out there who may be reading this. Why do all you guys shout at each other when you´re having a conversation, even if you´re right beside each other? Oh, and do you guys, especially those of you who travel in train carriages, ever actually shut up? No offense intended; as westerners we're just trying to understand you guys, that´s all. · Tempting fate?We´ve been eating Indian train food for the last two days (actually, we´ve been eating Indian train food for 4 days now if you include the meals we got on the trains to and from Chandigarh and Agra). No problems to report as yet, except for the quality, and variation, of the food that is. Curry, rice, curry, rice, curry &, emm, more rice.· The Interrogation´Westerners have an ambiguous status in Indian eyes. In one way, you represent the rich outsiders, whose culture dominates the world, and the old colonial mentality has not completely disappeared. On the other hand, as a non-Hindu, you are an outcaste, your presence in theory polluting to an orthodox or high-class Hindu, while to members of all religions, your morals and your standards of spiritual and physical cleanliness are suspect´ - The Rough Guide to India, 6th edition The Indian family we were sharing our train compartment with until 11am this morning drummed up a conversation with Pat as he was attempting to read his book yesterday evening. I was studiously hiding away up in my berth, lost in the Godfather book I had started earlier in the day, but was listening to the conversation/interrogation with interest. We now know what an Indians idea of a conversation with a foreigner is; questions. Lots of them, one after another. About the only thing Pat wasn´t asked was if he prefers blonds of brunettes (for the record it's brunettes). The most interesting question he was asked was what was his favourite food. It was only interesting because of how Pat answered it."Steak," Pat proclaimed, forgetting until after his proclamation that Indians, as Hindus, don´t eat beef."Steak. Mutton steak?" was the follow-up question he was asked."Mutton? Yes!... of course... mutton steak," Pat lied. Btw, during the conversation/interrogation Pat was told he looked about 22 years old and he was asked if he, get this, was a bodybuilder. Low lighting in the carriage maybe? · Palolem it is thenWe found time on the train earlier today, pre-interrogation, to decide which of Goa´s dozens of beaches we´d spend our time on. It was a tough decision. Having read the guidebook we decided a lot of them didn´t suit for reasons varying from beaches with lack of good accommodation options to beaches which get a lot of devil-may-care attitude Israelis. We settled on Palolem beach in south Goa, the beach I spent a week on back in November 2005. Back then at least the beach was idyllic, had great food (it was actually here where I had my favourite meal on my round the world trip, as highlighted here), good cheap accommodation and plenty of places to drink. Here´s hoping it hasn´t changed all that much. And is ready for us.
]]> On a High — Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1188088680/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1188088680/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1188088680/tpod.html Sun, 29 Jun 2008 14:07:51 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland

· Lauterbrunnen, Jungfrau, Switzerland· GMT +1:00 hourAnyone who has not seen the scenery which surrounds Interlaken does not know Switzerland - Felix MendelssohnEfficiency PersonifiedSo we headed, bags on back, to Bern train station where we set about getting tickets to the Jungfrau region of the Bernese Oberland, an area of spectacular natural alpine beauty in the south of the country. This, to me, was what Switzerland was going to be all about; rugged snow-capped peaks towering over deep, green valleys (white, in winter) sprinkled with droopy-roofed chalets. We both were hoping that the reality lived up to all those stereotypical perceptions. But first we had to get there. Not a problem as it turned out. Within 5 minutes of arrival in the train station ticket office, the extra-helpful ticket office clerk had organised not just out our tickets to the mountains but onward tickets to Milan, Italy, some 3 days later. If we didn't know it already we knew it then - Switzerland is a well oiled machine and an immensely easy, albeit expensive, place to travel. Jungfrau helloSo we soon found ourselves on a typically clean Swiss train on route to Interlaken, the gateway to the Jungfrau region of the Swiss Alps. This is how our guidebook describes the region - 'lying south of the major gateway resort of Interlaken, Jungfrau is the rather uninspiring title foisted on what is perhaps the most dramatic, certainly the most memorable, mountain scenery in the whole of Switzerland. The Matterhorn may be more recognizable, Davos and St. Moritz may be flashier, but the quantity and sheer scale of the awesome giants on offer here at close quarters takes your breath away. Sight lines throughout the area are dominated by the mighty triple crest of the Eiger, Mönch & Jungfrau (Ogre, Monk and Virgin) - three giant peaks rising side by side and topping out at over 4000m.'We had decided well before coming to Switzerland to base ourselves in the small village of Lauterbrunnen, a 20 minute train journey from Interlaken. Why? Well, scenery, of course. And setting - the village sits at the entry to the Lauterbrunnen Valley, an immense U-shaped cleft (the World's deepest, no less) with high, steep cliffs either side rising 1000m from the valley floor. From these cliffs some 72 lacy, misty waterfalls fall into the valley, making the whole place look utterly spectacular: even hardened Alpinists shrug their shoulders and call it the most beautiful valley in Europe, bar none. First ImpressionsWe got more than an eyeful from the train of snowy peaks, spectacular lakes and rolling valleys as we approached Lauterbrunnen, but the views up the Lauterbrunnen Valley, as we walked the short distance from the village train station to our accommodation, were/are nothing short of spectacular. The village marks the start of the valley, looking up which, in the distance, is the perfectly framed view of the snowy peak of Breithorn (3782m). It's hard to explain the sight, so rather than us try we'll kindly ask you to click on the thumbnail to the right instead. Thanks.Our Time Here... and a few numbers Tonight will be our 2nd, and final, night here in Lauterbrunnen (762m). We've spent the last day and a half in go-slow mode, taking in the sights of what truly is a spectacular part of the world. The highlight of our stay was the hike we completed today. We took a cable car from the valley floor (762m) to a small outpost called Grütschalp on the valleys eastern cleft (1489m). From there we took a scenic train ride, touted as one of the best in Switzerland, along the top of the cleft to a small village called Mürren (1654m), where the views, 800m down into the valley floor and of the distant peaks of Eiger (3970m), Mönch (4107m) and Jungfrau (4158m), were amazing. From Mürren we walked, yodelling as we went, for a few hours to another village called Gimmelwald (1400m) from where we descended onto the valley floor at Stechelberg (910m), which marks the other end of the Lauterbrunnen Valley from Lauterbrunnen village. We then walked along the valley floor back to the village, straining our necks as we went. Before reaching the village we paid a visit to the Trümmelbach Falls, the only accessible waterfalls in the world to be completely within a mountain. Or so they say. Again folks, have a look at all 12 pictures for the complete story.Still Beats Working... even if you're sickSo, that's about it from the Swiss Alps and Switzerland in general. 2 countries down already. We'll spend most of tomorrow on trains (4 in total) getting to our next destination, Venice, Italy. Meg is still feeling a bit under the weather and is having a hard time shaking the 24-hour head cold I had a few days ago in Dijon. I guess for her it's a 72-hour bug... 72-hours and counting. We expect the temperatures to heat up as we continue to head south and knowing Meg that'll do the trick and she'll be right as rain (no pun intended) in a day or so. Day 11 & 12 Observations (August 24th & 25th 2007)· Hard to compareThe scenery of the Swiss countryside, including the mountains, didn't disappoint. Of course it didn't. It's actually hard to put into words (well, for me anyway) exactly how picturesque the whole place is (hopefully the pictures posted here will go someway to conveying the scene). But here's the thing - it's almost too idyllic looking. I mean pass through any valley, one with its chalets separated by lush green fields full of bell-wearing cows, and you could be forgiven for thinking you were looking at a very nice oil painting. Throw a turquoise-blue lake and a few snow-capped peaks in for good measure and you could be forgiven for thinking you were looking at a very, very, very nice oil painting. It's hard also to compare the scenery to anywhere else on the planet (well, anywhere else on the planet I've been). But I will say this - I found the overall scenery of what I saw in New Zealand more awe-inspiring, and therefore for me more beautiful. Its landscape is more... umm, more diverse... more untouched... more rugged (I guess I like the rugged look, not the pristine look). It hasn't been carefully sculpted by and artist, someone hasn't spent the time to lay grass seed everywhere and people don't live in chalets that look like they have been freshly painted. The New Zealand countryside has just sculpted itself, and it has done a great job doing it.· Bring Fido Dogs are allowed everywhere. Yep, everywhere... from what we can see. Trains, cable cars, buses, cafes and even restaurants.· Little Korean & Little IndiaWe couldn't believe the amount of Koreans, Indians and, to a lesser degree, Spaniards there were in Lauterbrunnen. Indians you can kind of explain; their 'Bollywood' movie industry shoots 90% of its 'overseas' movies in the Swiss countryside and thus most Indians view it as a sort of utopia that is to be visited, if at all possible (not possible for the vast majority of them). But the abundance of Koreans we couldn't explain, even after we queried a few of them as to why they are here on mass. We noticed the dual English/Korean signs when we first arrived at the hostel but we never expected to be practically the only non-Korean guests in the whole hostel. Not that it was a problem for us. Of course it wasn't. We're sure you can all appreciate the irony of it all. · "Everest? 7000km that way"Meet a fellow hiker in the Swiss hills and he or she will invariably be decked out in the latest and greatest hiking gear. All the gear, including boots, breathable clothing, hats, raincoat etc, etc. They'll also have a huge backpack stuffed with God only knows what and with hiking paraphernalia dangling from all orifices or loops. Oh, and not to forget the hiking poles, essential for them 10 degree paved inclines. This isn't the first time I have noticed this as I remember commenting on it in Korea. As for Meg and I? Well, we had our sandals, shorts, tops, sunglasses and a day-bag between us for our camera, camcorder and our must-not-leave-that-out-of-sight items such as passports, credit cards and cash. I guess we're lucky a sudden swell didn't roll in from the north and trap us. Yep, dodged a bullet there.· ShockingThe fields that house those cute mountain coats or cows (yes, all with bells on.. you know the ones Heidi used to look after?) are all surrounded with electric fences. Just ask Meg, who got a nasty shock from one as she was trying to feed grass to one of a few very cute, but apprehensive, looking cows in a field we passed. She spent minutes enticing a bell-jingling cutie towards her, only to see it dash across to the other side of the field withing seconds of her letting out a yelp from the shock she received. Don't worry guys, Meg is fine. The shock of the shock was worse than the shock itself, if you know what I mean? · Cable Car VirginThe cable car trip we took from Lauterbrunnen to Grütschalp was Meg's first ever! We couldn't think of a better place to break that duck. · Sheds Any Swiss meadow will have numerous sheds dotted around it, all with no obvious, at least to us, use. Maybe they are part of the great Swiss conspiracy, the aim of which is to pull off that idyllic, it-must-be-a-painting look? Could be, but I doubt it. I'll find out what they are for on our next visit. · ExpectedPublic transport over here is frighteningly efficient. Not that this came as a surprise, but the efficiency of the Swiss transport system is second to none (well, apart from the system in Japan maybe). This is what our guidebook says about the system... The massively comprehensive Swiss public transport system remains one of the wonders of the modern world. The Swiss are the most frequent train users in Europe - not surprising, given the quality of the network. Travelling through Switzerland by train is invariably comfortable, hassle-free and extremely scenic, with many mountain routes an attraction in their own rightHere, here.· Franc-a-lotIt's expensive to eat out. Yep, if you have any sort of budget, eating out in Switzerland is invariably going to cut into it. So don't do it. We had access to a fully equipped kitchen, one we shared with half of Seoul, and easily cooked gorgeous meals (chicken breast one night, spaghetti the other) that we ate on our room balcony while gazing at the snowy peaks surrounding us. The Co-op store where we bought the food also sold wine. At €2 a litre (you could buy cheaper, honest) it should be an essential accompaniment to any meal. · Exp compI'm assuming any amateur photographer like me will find it hard to get nice, accurate mountain shots in the saturated, midday light one finds high up in the Swiss mountains? You need to constantly battle with the exposure compensation and checking the results when the light is blinding your LCD display is almost impossible... at that stage you're pretty much into 'point, shoot & hope for the best' photography. Either that or spend half the annual GDP of Gabon on a decent camera. · Taken for granted?We assume that if you lived up here in the Swiss mountains that you'd eventually reach a point when you'd just take the scenery on your doorstep for granted. What a shame that would be.· The Valley HostelOur hostel, set in a chalet (a REAL Swiss chalet) was spotless, was staffed by friendly staff and offered super facilities, including a fully equipped kitchen and wireless internet access. Having access to the kitchen meant we ate well at a fraction of the cost of eating out and the internet meant we got to touch base with those at home (at least those who actually answered their phone) and got to finally access all our e-mails on our laptop. · VoIP rocksYou realise how amazing VoIP is when you find yourself sitting on the balcony of a chalet high in the Swiss Alps speaking to someone 6 time zones away. Trust me on this one. · The golden rule of Swiss travelDon't shake the yogurts. Meg picked up a yogurt in a store in Lauterbrunnen, tried to read the label (it was in German, I think) and placed it back on the shelf. Moments later the observant shopkeeper came over to settle the yogurt carton, because seemingly Meg shouldn't have picked it up at all. Why? She muttered something about her not wanting the contents of the carton to rest on the underside of the foil lid. Okay. · Bum FirstMost of the train rolling stock in Europe travels back and forth on the same track between destinations, meaning half the carriage is facing one way and half is facing the other way. Given a choice I like to sit in the direction of travel. Well, on every journey that we've had assigned seating we've been sitting against the direction of travel. It's not a biggie... just something I picked up on. Sorry to bore you all with it.· Commandment #3 - Keep Holy the SabbathSwitzerland is a strictly 9-5, Monday to Saturday, society.... even in cities and even in tourist destinations. Sort of reminds me of the old days at home when Sunday was indeed observed as the Sabbath. The whole country is like one large ghost town on a Sunday.. and after 5pm most other days. Sort of annoying when, at 5:02pm, you realise you forget to get that €2 bottle of wine to accompany dinner.
]]> Procrastination — Dahab, Red Sea and Sinai, Egypt http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1208811600/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1208811600/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/byrnedm/thehoneymoon/1208811600/tpod.html Thu, 26 Jun 2008 07:54:51 -0400 The Honeymoon, for the 1st half at least.

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Dahab, Red Sea and Sinai, Egypt

· Dahab, Sinai Peninsula, Egypt· GMT +2hrsAn extensionIt always amazes me how time passes when one has positively nothing to do. 4 nights we've now spent here in Dahab and we still don't know when we're leaving. The reason we don't know is because we have yet to go to Mt. Sinai (organising a trip there is proving quite the task) and we're condemning ourselves to continue doing nothing here in Dahab until we do. I should say continue doing 'not much' because we have found ways to pass the time we've spent here already. Yes, we've lounged around drinking Stella beers, playing pool and swatting flies. We even snorkeled in the reefs just offshore. Pat, bless him, has managed to read 4 books in as many days and I've written up a few Travelpod entries. Oh, and somewhere amongst all that we've managed to find a couple of spare moments to collectively wonder when we will actually put our bags on our backs and leave here. There are 3 very good reasons why we should have left already - 1 - there is still nothing to do here, 2 - we've already spent twice as long here as we had initially planned on spending, and 3 - we've more ground to cover now than, again, initially planned. Yep, maybe it is the strong sun here in Dahab affecting our better judgment/reasoning. Or could it be the Stella's? Either way a fully democratic vote by myself and Pat over a few Stella beers a few nights ago has returned a majority decision meaning that we will for sure be extending this little, and getting bigger by the day, overland odyssey of ours and we now will be over landing it through Turkey & wherever in Europe to get home. Now we don't know how exactly we're going to do it, meaning where we're going to pass through en route to Ireland (we already know a bus to Munich, Germany, from Istanbul is an option) or what we are going to pass through in/on. Buses? Trains? Ferries? A combination of all three? About all we've done thus far is made a decision, stupid or otherwise; looking into logistics will come at a later date. What we do know is that Turkey is in the very south-eastern corner of Europe. Ireland is a semi-isolated little island at the far side of the continent, in the north-western corner of it (I'd appreciate if you could just bear with me for a minute and ignore Iceland, more north-western and so much more isolated). Granted Europe isn't the biggest of continents but there are still quite a few countries between the two, a lot of distance and, not to mention, a few bodies of water (okay, so we'll definitely be seeing the inside of a ferry or two). I of course know this fact more than most; I haven't conveniently forgotten (and I hope you haven't either) that I have already over-landed it from Ireland to Turkey earlier in this trip. It is just that things were different back then, very different (it was a 'real' honeymoon, we had a diligently pre-planned and set 'we-have-got-to-be-here-by-this-date' itinerary and we never spent anywhere near 36-40 hours on any means of transport, something myself and Pat are sentencing ourselves to by going through with this). Anyway, with the excuses for brushing off the accomplishments of the first 5 weeks of this travelblog out of the way, I'll go on to say that I hinted at the possibility of our feet not leaving the ground for the rest of this trip in an earlier entry. Well, now it's a go. A definite go. A decision has been made. A democratic decision. We both have dates we would ideally like to be back in Ireland for but at this stage it's anyone's guess as to when we'll actually make it. One thing is for sure - we have got to get out of Dahab first, and that's proving easier said than done. Day 249 to & 252 Observations (April 18th to 21st 2008) · Electronics graveyardThe electronics casualties from this trip are adding up and collectively we're now carrying around a few heavy, expensive paperweights. First it was my laptop, then it was my 'broken-during-a-slightly-inebriated-fall-into-a-Goa-beach-shack' multimedia player that I bought a few months ago in Korea, and now the latest addition, Pat's digital camera. He woke this morning to find the LCD screen damaged. It is a mystery as to how it broke; he never takes it out with him. Can it be blamed on the Stella? Maybe, maybe not. Btw, I finally got around to transferring music onto my new, bought in Dubai and as yet not broken, multimedia player. Here's hoping it stays off the electronics RIP list. · A sightSeeing two Arabs, in full Arab dress, playing pool in a western-style disco bar here in Dahab last night will be a sight that will stay in my memory for a long time to come. · Where are you?The last 3 days here in Dahab have been hot, windy and very quiet. Considering all the resorts here seem to be fully booked we're wondering where all those people, mainly Europeans, especially Russians, are during the day. They can't all be divers, can they? · Party AnimalsIt is all about drinking and late nights here in Dahab. Or at least it should be. Saturday night we were in bed at 10pm and last night by 9pm. The fact that we started drinking yesterday at 2pm while watching the Newcastle vs Irelan... sorry, Sunderland English Premiership game might account for the early night last night but we've no valid excuse for Saturday night's debacle. · Customer serviceThe Egyptians running the resorts/villages here in Dahab need to learn a thing or two about customer service. We've moved out of our accommodations twice since we arrived here 4 nights ago. We moved out of the Bedouin Lodge after one night because the management didn't seem all that interested in fixing our wholly inadequate shower or acknowledging the fact that Pat's mattress was damp. And then this morning we moved from the Penguin Village partly because of a double booking issue and partly because they responded to a query by me as to where we could get a fresh water shower (all water here is salt water) by telling me to "go to the Hilton." Our latest accommodation, The Sphinx, is the only one of the three places we've now stayed here in Dahab that is not listed in our Lonely Planet guidebook and it seems to be the best of the lot. All of this hasn't improved our opinion of the Egyptians that deal with foreigners but we realise that their attitude here in Dahab is due to the fact that demand always seems to outstrip supply. · Accommodation worth its saltShowering, shaving and washing, especially your teeth, in salty water is an experience, just not a very pleasant one. We've been doing it now for 4 days and our lips in particular feel like they have been sucking on an olive for twice as long as that. It's just another reason why we should have already left here, but emm, haven't. · Different world'The Sinai Peninsula offers superb diving and snorkelling. Amazing coral reefs, tropical fish and sunken wrecks make the Red Sea a paradise for scuba divers and snorkellers' - The Rough Guide to EgyptWe went snorkeling today. The last time I was snorkeling was on the Great Barrier Reef in Queensland, Australia, over 5 years ago and I'd almost forgotten how magical an experience it is. Sharing the silent, colourful underwater world of a coral reef with hundreds of shimmering, brightly coloured fish, all of which seem totally oblivious to your presence in their environment, is always a magical experience. Ingesting salt water however isn't. · WorryingI'm normally a very organised kind of traveller, especially when it come to finances, so it's kind of alarming to me that we have absolutely no idea how much money we've spent so far, and thus how much I actually have left for the rest of whatever this trip has in store for us. It's a consequence of not having access to my finances (you might remember my bank card stopped working in Delhi) and using Pat's money, the amount of which we've spent has been noted but not summed. According to Pat I'm not to worry about it and that according to his obviously twisted logic the more money we spend here the better off we are. "It is better to spend money here because doing things here is cheaper than doing them in Ireland and so if we spend money doing things here we're actually saving money. So you see Dave, the more money we spend here the better off we are." "Right lad, whatever you say."
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