Syria

A whirlwind of a trip to Syria was a perfect escape from Dubai. I was surrounded (and sometimes overwhelmed) by a history that stretches back to the beginning of time - the Euphrates river flows through Syria. The places we visited and artifacts we saw have connections to Christianity, Islam and Judaism, as well as importance for the world in general - the first alphabet, the first musical notes, evidence of 33 ancient civilizations.

Our tour group itself was a cross-section of cultures, with people from North America, South Africa, Singapore, the Philippines, India, Iran and the UAE.

We started off our visit with a meal at the Largest Restaurant in the World (certified by Guinness) and enjoyed some delicious Syrian food. The next morning we were off on our tour of Damascus!

This is Saint Paul's Church, which is dedicated to Saul/Paul, who converted to Christianity after his encounter with God on the road to Damascus.... but then had to escape from the Jews of the city by being lowered out of Anania's window in a basket. We also visited Anania's house, where he healed Paul's blindness. It's now underground (the original city has been built over) and has been turned into a chapel (picture below).


Need some petrol? This guy will sell it to you from the tank in his cart!

Here are Deb, Steve and I at Azem Palace, with some kids who weren't moving out of the way fast enough!
We fought through the holiday crowds to visit Omayyed mosque. In addition to being extremely old and beautiful, it is said to contain the head of John the Baptist, who is respected as a prophet in both Islam and Christianity. The mosque has been many things throughout the years, including a temple of Jupiter (Roman) and a Christian church. Pope John Paul II visited the mosque and he was the first pope to do so.

(Shrine for John the Baptist's head)

We also visited the museum, where we saw pieces of history from all corners of Syria, including the first phonetic alphabet and musical notes, and a beautiful synagogue with frescoes of scenes from the Old Testament that was excavated and restored in the museum.

On the road to Palmyra, a 'comfort stop' to 'make our bladder gladder' and have some tea at the Bagdad Cafe.


Palmyra is old. An important city in ancient times and a handy stop on the way to Rome, the ruins have been well-preserved and partially restored.
Tour guide Nabil explains the water system.

Below is the Temple of Bel (aka Baal), which contains some beautiful friezes and barely-there frescoes, as well as some beautiful stone-work. There's evidence that it was also at one time a mosque as well as a church.

This is the (restored) theater.

The 'new' citadel overlooking the ruins of Palmyra, with a great panoramic view.

This isn't the clearest picture ever, but it helps show the sheer size of the ruins.



The last day, we hit the road again, destination Ma'alula, one of only 3 villages in the world where people speak Aramaic, the language of Jesus.
Here we visited the Convent of St. Serge and St. Baccus, which is the oldest continually used church in the world. It was named in honor of the 'last martyrs' for Christianity, who were killed right before Christianity was made legal, but before it was a church it was a Temple of Jupiter. At this church, we saw some beautiful artwork and listened as one of the local women said the Lord's Prayer in Aramaic. It was quite a moment, to sit somewhere so ancient and hear words that have been around for two thousand years!

She also said the prayer in Arabic and in English... a multicultural moment, as well!

Our final stop before heading to the airport was Crac de Chevalier, a citadel built during the Crusades, which was a lot of fun to wander around in.

We weren't in Syria for long, but we were there long enough to appreciate the incredible history that is found there. It was fascinating to see common histories and locations with importance for Christians, Jews, Romans and Muslims, and inspiring to be in such ancient and holy places.

blue, blue, and more blue...

and sunshine,
and breezes,

and sleeping with the fresh air on my face,

and scooters,
and cobbled streets,

and early morning walks in the stillness,

and wine,
and sunsets,

and dangling feet in the pool,

and laughter,
and silence,

and feeling free.

Fun with the new lens...

Yes, I know there's been nothing here in many many months, but I figure if I start somewhere, perhaps I'll start posting again.

An hour and a half of moving pieces of sea glass and making minute camera adjustments... for four images I sort of like... yeah, I love it :)

Antarctica, Take 2

First off, let me just declare: it was worth it.

In the past six months I’ve had moments of doubt, wondering if our second Antarctic experience would be good enough to warrant a second trip to the bottom of the world – but it was absolutely amazing.

We departed from spring-time Ushuaia in a gray mist of rain, reacquainting ourselves with the Fram, which felt so familiar – and yes, the dent in the starboard side remains, though it’s been pushed back slightly and painted over. The Drake Passage was so calm it earned “Drake Lake” status, and on our second morning on the boat we approached the South Shetland Islands, in which we spent so much time last year.

We landed again at Half-Moon island, but it was a whole new experience, as the island lacked the snow-cover we’d seen it with last, so in a gray drizzle we splashed through puddles to see the chinstrap penguins, as well as one lone macaroni penguin, with his splashes of orange and yellow eye feathers.







We then hung a right, heading down along the Antarctic Peninsula, and were in new territory! We sailed to Deception Island, a sunken caldera that has the remains of a whaling station on its black-sand beach, surrounded by snow marked with soot.

The next morning we landed at Cuverville Island, where we got to know the biggest known rookery of gentoo penguins. The bay is filled with blue-tinged icebergs, and as we took the PolarCirkel boats to shore we crunched through smaller pieces of ice and got a close look at the bobbing bergs – they’re all unique, worn down by wind and water, solid ice, though from afar they look like snow you could punch right through.
The penguins are, as usual, so much fun to watch, as they waddle along their ‘penguin highways’ in the snow – so graceful as they leap through the water, but so clumsy once their feet hit land. At the nesting site, one ambitious penguin steals rocks from his neighbor’s nests, much to their annoyance. They regard us with mild curiosity, often waddling right for us before suddenly stopping, as if only realizing we’re there. I could watch them for hours!















We sail through the Lemaire Channel, nicknamed the “Kodak Crack” because of the frenzied photography it prompts. We crowd on deck in our blue coats, lining the edge as the boat moved through the floating ice – it’s still and quiet out of the wind, but the silence is broken by cameras clicking and the booming and cracking noises made as our hull crunches through small icebergs. The channel is narrow, surrounded by mountains, glaciers, snow and low clouds hiding a gray sky, and we catch glimpses of Minke whales, seals, and penguins. “THIS is why we came back,” Sean says, and I can’t agree more.







We land again that evening, at Petermann Island, and changing ice conditions mean a shortened time, and we must choose – baby penguins or icebergs. We divide and conquer, and I head up the hill to an overlook to the bay on the other side, where the tide traps icebergs and then releases them again. A random conglomeration of bergs bobs up and down, waiting to be free again. We can see the mainland - the Antarctic Peninsula and its jagged, snow-covered mountains. It’s a (sometimes nerve-wracking) journey through the ice to get back to the boat, and I’m reminded yet again of the unpredictable nature of Antarctica.





We retrace our steps in the night, and in the morning wake to find ice and fog, and we’re unable to land in two places, both on the continent itself. We cruise into Wilhelmena Bay, but the fog still lingers, and we’re starting to get a little restless. The day is saved when we’re sent out for a cruise in the Polar Cirkel boats, into an experience that is one of my favorites from the trip. We cruise among the icebergs at the foot of a glacier that towers above us, broken with blue-tinged fissures, looking like a piece could plummet to the sea at any moment. The PolarCirkel boats are amazing, and we got quite close to bergs both big and small – something I won’t soon forget.




The next morning finds us in the Antarctic sound under sunny skies, and we cruise for icebergs in the deep blue water, through whitecaps whipped up by the wind, taking brief forays onto the deck to capture particularly stunning bergs.




It’s too windy to attempt a landing at Brown’s Bluff (and, given our past experience there, I’m glad we didn’t try it), but now we were starting to get tense. This was it. We had one last chance for a landing – at Esperanza Station – and a fitting name: Esperanza means Hope. It’s windy, so we wait. And wait. And wait.

Then, the announcement: We’re going in!

We are elated, but until I’m actually on my way to shore, I don’t believe it’s going to happen. But it does.













The base itself is mildly interesting, to see how people live here, so far from everything, and we take a brief tour before heading back to the boats. That’s when Richard and Sean go swimming. Yes, swimming. They’re not in for long, but long enough to lay claim to the bragging rights! And as we wait to head back to the Fram, I try to wrap my head around the fact that my feet are actually on Antarctica proper, and that those feet could (in theory, of course) carry me to the south pole.


The ride back to the boat was windy and wild, bumpy and full of spray, but it was all worth it. Our quest was complete. But there was one more surprise in store for us – midway across the drake passage, a pod of humpback whales was spotted nearby, so we headed in their direction and stopped the engines.

There were wales EVERYWHERE. At least 12-15 of them, they circled the boat for at least an hour, surfacing right below our feet, blowing into the air and grunting their arrival before diving back underwater their dark shapes marked by their white flippers, which gave off a clear blue light in the water. Everywhere we looked, there they were. All I had to do was stand in one spot and watch. The entire ship spilled onto the decks, and even the Expedition Team, some of who have years of experience, said they’d never seen such a big pod so close to the boat. It was stunning. A perfect end to the cruise.
Now I’ve seen Antarctica like it’s meant to be seen. I know that no two trips are the same, and even this time we had a few reminders that Antarctica is untamable and unpredictable, but I think that’s part of what makes it so wild and beautiful. Between the two trips, I feel like I’ve seen quite a lot – because amidst the problems last year, we did see some amazing things. And I’m sure that if I ever venture there again in the future, there will be new surprises and experiences in store for me.

We also did some traveling on either side of the cruise, but I’ll save that for another day!