Thursday, September 30, 2010

A Trip to Kanzaman

Welcome to Once Upon a Time.

N., S. and I made a late evening excursion by taxi to the Jordan tourist and craft center called Kanzaman, Arabic for "A time in the past", or, as S. put it a bit romantically: "Once upon a time". This is a complex of craft shops and a large buffet restaurant, popular with tourist groups, but set in what seemed to be the end of nowhere. At night, It's like an oasis in the middle of the ocean. It is near several villages, but as street lighting is not common outside the city proper, it can be pretty dark while getting there. We experience so much light-pollution in the U.S. cities, true rural blackness is intimidating.

The taxi ride was worth the five dinars. Kanzaman is south of Amman, off the airport road, and for us about a twenty-minute journey. Jordan highways are generally good-to-excellent, but once you leave them for less populated areas they tend to follow the natural grade, and all bets are off. Lane markings on these secondary roads have faded away long ago, with drivers free to use whatever part of the road they feel opportune. It's rather like Italy on steroids. Underpasses are particularly thrilling.

For the most part, taxi drivers are skilled and cheerful souls who keep up a friendly chatter while answering cell phones, honking at anything that doesn't move to their liking, and threading their car through the intense, crazy traffic. To call their driving aggressive is to make a HUGE understatement. I usually sat in the front, called the death seat, and spent much of each journey fighting the seat belt and rediscovering my faith.

Kanzaman was created from stables sturdily built in stone, and Jordan did a good job in accommodating and integrating a number of craft shops and souvenir stores with the large restaurant. Someone put some money and thought into the place. Items offered, particularly local craft items, were up-market in quality. Prices were reasonable-to-outright cheap. Kanzaman is not your usual souvenir stop for your tourist bus.

There is an in-house bakery, a very large dining hall and an equally-large, comfortable open-air lounge covered with billowing, brightly-colored panels (think "tent", you're supposed to). Perhaps because it was the end of the summer season, selections were a little thin on the ground. No alcoholic drinks are offered, of course. Also, avoid the cranberry juice as it's a disappointment and overpriced. Stick with the teas. By all means order the flat bread with zata herbs/spices and white cheese; hot from the oven, it's delicious.

If you take a bus tour in Amman you may well end up at Kanzaman for a meal. The food seems okay and the décor superior to most of the large buffet-style tourist stops. Every shop seems either up or down some stairs and the natural stone floor and steps can be a little awkward to navigate, so if walking is a challenge, hold on to someone. It's clean, staff seems trained, and if you're in the market for a little silver trinket, stop by and see Samer the silversmith at his little shop where hand-made jewelry is priced by the gram. Some interesting things can start around $15. Don't forget to bargain.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

The Citadel of Ajloun

It's a fixer-upper with a great view.

We invested the middle of the day to a trip to the north of Jordan to visit the city and fortress of Ajloun. This is a well-resurrected Islamic castle built during the Crusader period at the orders of Saladin. While N. and I have visited most of the southern touristy sites over the decades, for some reason we skipped the north of Jordan until this year. This was wrong on our part, for the countryside is quite impressive, mountainous and scenic. It also holds the second-largest city in Jordan, Irbid, a university town.

I won't give the history of Ajloun here—Wikipedia and the Jordan tourist agency sites do fairly well in describing the background of the Islamic castle's development. As any threat from the great Crusader castle at Karak disappeared with its fall to the Ayyubids only two years after Ajloun's construction, the fortress never had a chance to fight back the Crusaders, its apparent original purpose. It did, however, suffer slings and arrows through the centuries in internecine fighting, and was captured and severely damaged by the Mongols. It had mostly an administrative function in latter centuries. Two earthquakes (in early nineteenth and twentieth centuries) didn't help.

I was surprised at how little I could find on this pre-Islamic history of the fortress and the important, strategic mountain it sits upon. While not talked about much, it was earlier a Roman construct and the site of a Byzantine church, the latter revealed through recent excavations, but not mentioned much officially. History has so much baggage in this region that you can pretty much select from and interpret events as they suit your previous convictions. A cursory inspection provides evidence of several reconstructions and a varying quality of stone work.

Scampering about the ruins makes a great afternoon—there are a lot of nooks and crannies to investigate—and we had exceptional weather for it. Jordan has done a good job in making this a comfortable tourist site, and an excellent work of reconstruction where necessary. We were a bit off season, but there were a number of groups passing through and the castle was well staffed with guides and security. A. tells me that they once picnicked on the castle grounds, but this is no longer allowed.

One area where Jordan could put additional effort: directional signs to the castle. It's a little unfair for me to mention this, as they have done a great deal already in basic highway signage, but even Jordan residents get lost trying to find their way to the citadel. Advice: get good directions.

For those on a pilgrimage, there is a Catholic school, church and shrine on the route to Ajloun where the Virgin Mary is said to have performed several miracles in recent years. One miracle was said to involve the cure of cancer for a Moslem woman, which, in a small sense, illustrates the religious tolerance evident in this country.

The roadsides are packed with vegetable stands, pottery factories, bakeries and every imaginable shop. On the way back, we stopped at one of the villages and bought some fresh goat-milk lebaney, a yogurt-based product that I dearly, dearly love, some bread from the local bakery as it came out of the oven, and some of the local white cheese (the latter must be soaked overnight in water as it comes naturally with a degree of salt that will still your heart). It made a great snack as we drove back into Amman as dusk fell.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Dust in the wind, with apologies to Kansas

The City is out there, somewhere.

This may not be Kansas, Dorothy, but you could forgive some confusion two days ago when Amman was struck by an unusual and surprising dust storm in the late afternoon. Residents could not remember a similar phenomenon at this time of the year. I was reminded of the terrible dust storms of the 1940s and running for storm cellars; it was not pleasant.

The day had been strange from the start. It rarely rains in Amman during September, and yet we awoke to on-and-off sprinkles that continued through the early afternoon. Then, in a sudden rush, we had strong winds, with bent trees and debris in the air. "Weather change" was murmured, and there were expectations of unusual events. Lightning was observed, without accompanying thunder.

As we prepared to leave for the wedding party, thought to be held in open air, there was concerns the evening would be spoiled by rain or strong winds; the reality was even stranger.

As we departed, a dense dust cloud settled over Amman; visibility dropped to less than a hundred meters, and it became deathly still. Lights were quickly lost in the amber gloom, and in a city of several million, our auto traveled in its own little pool of light; we were all individuals, now, the dust had removed our sense of community. It became difficult to breath.

Families met at one of the better hotels to organize for the trip on to the wedding party. By the time we were ready to depart, conditions had improved, a moderate wind had reappeared, and by midnight, the dust had settled and the moon could be again clearly seen. The next morning, other than with everything having a coat of grit, the dust storm was a memory.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Across the Bridge to Jordan

It's not the Allenby, but nearby in Jericho; a bridge over a very dry wadi.

Crossing the Jordan River via the Allenby Bridge is much easier than it used to be. I can recall being poled through barbed-wire gates amidst a mass of humanity, animals, food stuffs, bags and luggage, and anything else the authorities would allow to transit. There was no air conditioning, no nice terminal building, and, certainly, no posters welcoming you, one direction or the other. One year I remember we had to walk across the rickety bridge into Jordan carrying our own luggage like refugees. The old, crowded and un-conditioned buses were rudimentary, to say the least.

That experience seems to be firmly in the past. While there is still a small dose of arrogance involved on the Israeli side, procedures and administration, especially for foreigners, is immeasurably better. The similarity to an airport is stretching it a bit, but most of the trappings are there: glassed-in passport controls, luggage handlers and carts, taxi and bus zones, currency exchange, customs officials, and signs with best wishes for a speedy and pleasant trip. On the Jordan side, it's even simpler and much friendlier. There's even a free-tax shop! We didn't even get off the bus.

The Allenby used to be the only land route between Israel and Jordan; now there are three crossing points, one to the north and one at Aqaba on the Red Sea. The Allenby crossing, named after a British officer, is still heavily militarized on the Israeli side, with multiple check posts and tedious vehicle, passport and visa procedures—particularly for the Palestinians. Foreigners are treated somewhat differently, though only marginally. The two groups—Palestinians and those with foreign passports—are segregated at the bridge and don't meet up again until the Jordan side.

Both governments recognize this as a money-making enterprise, a common denominator for most Palestinians dealing with governments, even their own. Israeli exit fees for a foreigner amount to over 200 NIS, and you should be certain keep some shekels, as the exchange rate at the Bridge is simple usury. Then there are mandatory bus fees and luggage handling charges exacted in dinars. Also, don't attempt to enter Jordan from Israel via the Allenby as a foreigner without a Jordanian visa—you'll be turned back at one of the Israeli check points.

The border has been peaceful for generations now, and there are few visible reminders of the war fought across this river in 1973. There used to be a few burned-out armored vehicles on the Jordan side where there was a spirited defense of territory, but they've either been removed or have fallen into history. As a sign of how relations are now between the two countries, there is a freeway being built between Jerusalem and Amman. A freeway! How Western can you get? Already, cars with Jordanian license plates are already visible in Israel.

Jordan is an enlightened country and an example of how an Arab country can cope—and thrive—with peace and religious minorities. While it is an absolute monarchy, there is a balance between parliamentary rule of law and royal dictates. In a sense, the King provides the moral compass while the government worries about macro and micro management. Make no mistake, though, the King is the power in Jordan.

Christians, amounting to only about three percent of the population, have a vibrant public life and churches are common. No one seems to be put-upon or suffer discrimination. Palestinians are well represented in government and ministries. Such accord is not only extraordinary in the Mid-East; it seems to be increasingly uncommon in Europe or even, with its ultra-conservative political insurgency, America. I don't want to be a Pollyanna, but it has been thirty years since I was in Jordan, and I am much impressed with its accomplishments in becoming a modern, civil and progressive country.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

King Hussain's Auto Museum

One of his favorites toward the end of reign. Like the king, an exceptional example of its kind.

The King Hussain Park in Amman is a large, entirely landscaped public park on the side of one of the city's hills. While the trees are still in adolescence, it's a pretty park and offers some great views of the city spread out below. It's a favorite place to walk and picnic by residents, especially in the early evening, well protected and clean as a pin. If I wanted to find just one remarkable difference in Amman from the city I first visited in the mid-Seventies, it would be how clean it now is. Put the reason down to security, or culture, but there is almost no litter, and public spaces are clear of the vandalism found in almost all urban centers. That this city is in the mid-East makes its tidiness all the more exceptional. Jerusalem is a mess in comparison, and Ramallah should be ashamed of the comparison.

The late King Hussain was extraordinarily fond of automobiles and motorcycles, and Jordan has built a special building for the public display of his collection and of the automobiles used for state purposes during his long reign. I've been in a lot of automobile museums in my day, and Jordan's effort will stand up to any of them. The park and the museum at the top of the hill deserve the attention of any visitor.

Not all of the cars were used by the late King; some are donated or on loan. It's an eclectic display, with everything from early military armored cars and motorcycles to the latest 1001 hp Bugatti, and if you like Rolls Royce, this collection will make you very happy. The King obviously searched out the mechanically unusual and was intrigued by technological advances in auto design. There's a Cord, a 1949 Chrysler "Woodie" convertible, some truly exceptional Ferraris, a few armored Cadillacs, two Lincolns, at least one Packard, a BMW Z1, an old Lotus, a smattering of Porsches…well, you get the idea. Aside from antiques and rarities, the 50s and 60s are well represented. For some reason best known to him, he liked Buick.

All cars are neatly and effectively displayed and you can (but shouldn't) get close enough to touch. You have to resist the temptation to climb inside some of the cockpits. I do wish they would raise the illumination level in places—it's difficult at times to read the descriptions and stories behind the cars, which are well done for the most part. Harley Davidson fans will enjoy the exhibit (there's a ridiculously opulent example that he liked to ride), and there are some very early German two-and three-wheelers, although I'm personally cool to all cycles—I've laid down my share.

As with the best of museums, there are multimedia presentations of the King racing many of his cars. He seems to have really enjoyed speed and was an accomplished hill-climber, setting some records that resisted betterment for more than a decade. He loved to rally, and several of his rally cars are here.

I think that one of the things that make the museum so interesting is that he used these cars. He had affection for his autos and cycles, they were an important part of his private life, and somehow this makes the man, already exceptional, all the more one of us.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

In Jerash

The crossroads of ancient Roman Arabia. Take the next right to Syria...or is it left?

We spent much of the day in Jerash, one of the larger cities in Jordan, less than an hour from Amman to the north and not far from Syria. It is home to one of the best restored Roman ruins in the Middle East. It had been thirty years since I last visited Jerash and the changes were numerous. Not only had the restorations proceeded apace, there was a better approach to making them approachable by the public, and more opportunities for an improved revenue stream for the state. This is essential, for if a heritage site of this magnitude and historical importance can't make money, it can't support the continuing dig and reconstruction essential to its commercial viability.

Jordan also considers its citizen's rights to the country's history. For a resident, the entrance fee to the controlled site is one-half dinar or about 70 U.S. cents; for tourists, its eight dinars or over eleven U.S. dollars. It's still a bargain and one the best eleven dollars you'll ever spend for an afternoon's activity, especially as you can walk and climb all over the ruins, many of which have been put back to use (the hippodrome and the excellent amphitheater). In fact, you'll need a half-day—it's that big.

I had the definite impression that the entire enterprise was a bit underfunded and suffered from inattention. This was all the more surprising as it's the second most important tourist site in Jordan (following Petra), and has such an enormous potential. Staff was mostly out of sight and the entire area—and this is a BIG site—was rather shabby: signs weathered and bent, trash uncollected, exhibits dusty and dark. There is a dearth of explanation throughout the site and the educational aspects could receive more attention. It was out of season, of course, but there were many tourists trekking about. Perhaps I'm being a bit unfair, and things will get spiffed up for the winter and spring seasonal traffic.

I could write more about the site, for example its unusual oval forum with a beautiful colonnade, the amphitheater, the Cardo or shopping street, or Artemis's temple, or… But frankly, if you can read this you can do your own research. I suggest Wikipedia, which has an excellent summary of Jerash's (Gerasa of Roman times) past and present. Not mentioned however, is the rocking column in Artemis's temple known to locals and tour guides. Erosion and time has left the huge column moving in the wind. The movement is barely discernable, but someone has levered a spoon to illustrate the movement. You have to clamber about a bit to see it. Disconcerting but fun.

Jordan has done a good job of keeping the modern city at arm's length and has respected the cultural value of the Roman constructs. That said, there is so much to ancient Jerash that it pops up throughout the city of today—it's never out of sight. An example was the restaurant where we had lunch, called Yahala (Arabic for You're Welcome—a familiar term, sort of like the French tu rather than the more formal vous). This is an old and somewhat eccentrically-decorated large restaurant built into the side of a hill, and adjacent to the site boundary. Look up, and you can see part of the ruins; you can even climb up and inspect them close-up. This eatery has poignancy for the family; members have been coming here since it opened in 1973. Many of the tables are tucked away at different levels under the trees. It's a wonderful place to lose a couple of hours and find peace of mind. Don't be put off by the neighborhood which is a bit shabby. The restaurant is friendly and recommended.

The trip to Jerash is through some of the most beautiful terrain Jordan offers, and the road is now modern. The region is mountainous with some great views, so the drive is well worth while even without a visit to the ruins. Jordan is several generations into reforesting its lands and has several programs to encourage the planting of trees. The benefits are now very visible.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

In Trier

High Street in Trier

If you're the type of person that enjoys a certain structure to life, you will appreciate Germany. And if you find Germany sympathetic, you'll LOVE Trier, one of the oldest cities in Germany, an ancient Roman town full of ruins, and a hugely-popular regional shopping community on the Mosel river. For some reason, I seem to fit in German clothes; I've been buying hats there for decades.

Trier is very near the border with Luxembourg, and a pleasant drive can be had from Remich in the south of Luxembourg along highway 10 (the Route du Vin) hugging the Mosel into Trier. There are several wine caves along the route offering visits and samples. If you like light, white, and rather sweet wines, you'll be happy here. In truth, it's not the wines that charm me here, it's the natural beauty and sense that all's well with the world.

We decided to stop in Trier on our way back to Brussels from Trittenheim rather than the reverse. In this way, you approach the city from the east, through the industrial areas, but are led inexorably to the town center. You may want to do the same, as the road down from the expressway down the escarpment into Trier is winding, ending with a passage over a relatively narrow bridge, and thus almost always suffers from stop-and-go traffic. Be prepared to be patient when arriving; departing is easier as you're putting the bridge behind you while climbing out of the valley.

The Porto Negro, with optional train.

For the first time in years, I got lost trying to find the precise parking lot we traditionally used and ended up in the middle of the shopping area instead of parking outside the entrance at the Porto Negro, one of the more impressive Roman-era structures in Trier. (The other is the Baths.) This was not a problem; there is usually lots of parking, but market days, holidays and Saturdays, as in all rural centers, can be intensely busy.

Some things never change and Trier certainly looked much the same as we left it five years ago. We had a bratwurst mit brot and hot mustard at our favorite place, followed by a Bitburger beer (Bitte ein Bit). Trier cooking seems to have a Gallic influence (perhaps through adjacency with Luxembourg) and is better off for it. Fried foods are lighter on the oil and there's a broader menu available. When in doubt as to where to find a decent meal, follow the crowds. Germans have a lot of fast foods; Americans will feel at home.

Our favorite time in Trier has always been (other than the wine-tasting season in the fall) right before Christmas. Trier has a huge Christmas market that spreads over the expansive town center, filled with booths, crowds, smells and tastes of the season. There's evergreen everywhere, colored lights, music, the German mulled wine called Glühwein with cinnamon served in those silly souvenir cups, the nip in the air, frost on the breath and, of course, the bratwurst, sour-kraut and sautéed onions (also often on the breath). If there is a Santa Claus, he would be German. Wait, he is German.

It was a bit sad to leave Trier; we don't know when we'll be back, and a visit there always gives a cheery boost to our spirits. At the end of the day, we returned to Brussels, cold weather and jackets (it's AUGUST for Pete's sake), and planning for the next stage of our trip: leaving Europe and getting ready for wedding #3, the Niece.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Moseying down the Mosel


Civilized, rural bliss.

Toward the end of our time in Brussels, we did what we used to do quite often when living there: we made a little road trip down the expressway, through Luxembourg, to the German border city of Trier and the adjacent Mosel valley. The ancient city of Trier and the Mosel wine-growing region are among our most favored places in Europe, and for many years we never let more than a few months go by without a day or two on the Mosel. I couldn't leave this year without at least one night on, and a drive along this beautiful and peaceful river.

For those similarly inclined, I suggest taking exit 53 after Trier to get onto the Mosel river road as soon as possible, and an overnight in either Trittenheim or Bernkastel Kues. We have stayed with the Heribert Boch families for decades (and have seen their children grown) and recommend their guest house as one of the most pleasant, clean and reasonably priced on the Mosel. They are also generous with the wine tasting and pour a fine grape; their products are award-winners. After an evening sitting on the patio working your way through your stress and a bottle, I particularly recommend the unfermented grape juice served with the German breakfast, and don't leave without a case of their wine in the trunk. They make and bottle it under the guest house. Drink it while it's fresh.

One other tip in Trittenheim: N. loves the apple strudel (okay, so do I) served at a restaurant 200 meters up the Moselweinstrasse at the junction of the road leading to the bridge. If the directions seem a bit vague, be comforted that this is a village and you can find your way home with your eyes closed. Trittenheim makes a good base point for exploring the western Mosel valley and is less than an hour from Trier.

About 50km from Trier, and twenty-minutes past Trittenheim, is Bernkastel and, across the river from the medieval town, the more modern city of Kues. We haven't spent much time in Kues, but Bernkastel is well worth the visit, although a bit touristy. For the hardy (or fool-hardy), take the path up the mountain to the castle and restaurant (for which the town is named). It's a good place for a drink and a view of the river. We've stayed at various guest houses and hotels in Bernkastel; one we can recommend is Haus Bonsai (yes, really), which also gives you a running start on the mountain path. Talk to Danny and all will be clear about the name. Her husband is quite the handyman and has built an elaborate frontal restaurant or bar on their guesthouse. He has put years into it; we've seen it in various stages of construction, and it now seems to be almost finished. I'm sure Danny is pleased. Bernkastel is a pedestrian town, so access the guesthouse through the tunnel, a right-turn when approaching the town.

This year, the river was a bit full, but nothing like we've seen it, or similar to the floods the Mosel cities have experienced in the past. (Look for the high-water marks on Bernkastel buildings.) One year, we couldn't use the river-side parking as it was covered with water. This year the problem of parking was an unanticipated riverside wine festival.

October is the busy month for the Mosel. The annual wine tasting begins immediately after the September harvest and the Mosel is flocked by Germans and the Dutch with their bikes and hiking shoes, filling up the guesthouses and trailer-parks. In the many years of visiting the Mosel, we have always been able to find a room somewhere, but be prepared for some rejection if you intend visiting during the busy fall and summer seasons. Also, these are family businesses, and many close during the winter months.

I realize this reads like a travelogue, and my apologies are offered, but most visitors to Europe spend far too much time in the urban areas and leave without any sense of rural Europe. Visiting the Mosel offers a civilized and convenient opportunity to soak up the innate beauty and serenity of the German countryside. Oh yes, and drink some delightful, light wines.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Eid ul-Fitr in Bethlehem

The party is just getting started on Manger Square

We made the trek to Bethlehem yesterday for a drink and—for R. and me—a cigar. R. once operated a hotel with a great garden restaurant on the edge of Manger Square, and the Palace remains one of our favorite places for a family-and-friends evening. What made it special yesterday was that it was the second day of the Eid ul-Fitr, the Moslem holiday marking the end of Ramadan. While the family is all Christian to the core, the evening provoked important memories for me: my introduction to the Middle East was on the eve of the Eid many years ago.

Bethlehem is an example of Christian and Moslem commonality. A few decades ago it was entirely a Christian city—today the faith is in the minority, primarily due to the migration of Christians to more comfortable climes in concern for their families' future, and the phenomenal birthrate of the Moslem population. This decline in influence has not been received without some bitterness on the Christian side, but everyone lives in Greater Bethlehem inside their own communities with no more acrimony than you would find in Gainesville, Florida. I think the Christians are reconciled to becoming a small minority in Palestine, and most political issues dealing with Israel inevitably reduce to Islam/Jewish frictions. If there is irony in this, it is that among the three religions, the Jews and Moslems rituals and fundamentals have the most in common—the Christians are the odd-man out from a religious perspective, so to speak. And that's a pity, in a sense, as the Christians have the upper-hand in reconciliation, compromise and turning-the-other-cheek. It makes you realize how different New Testament Christianity really is from Old Testament Judaism and Islam.

Be that as it may, the evening turned cool as it got dark and conversation quickly turned to the upcoming wedding of our niece in a couple of weeks. R. and I set fire to about fifty dollars worth of tobacco, while I slumped in my chair, sipped wine, listened to the buzz about me and felt greatly content. A few meters away, in Manger Square, cars churned and honked, people promenaded, and the city came alive in celebration of the end of the fast. There were a lot of Christmas lights set out to celebrate the Eid (there is an immense amount of irony in Palestine), and, later in the evening, it took us some time to weave our way through the crowds, out of town and back to Jerusalem. There was a substantial presence of PA police, but their interaction with the population was more jovial than remonstrative.

Bethlehem is difficult to describe. In some sense it's a big city, spread out over several mountains and encompassing a number of very large communities. Readers may recall my blog on Beit Jallah, a mostly Christian community adjacent to Bethlehem. In other ways Greater Bethlehem is simply a collection of small Arab towns with adjacent borders, possessing an older core, but just as dispersed as you find modern urban centers in the U.S. The Old City is fairly small and compact, and the road system—upgraded substantially by an EU investment years ago, then severely degraded by a subsequent Israeli military incursion—while greatly improved over that of a few decades ago is still narrow and hazardous. Traffic rules either don't exist, or have long been forgotten, but with a liberal application of invective and bravado, everyone seems to get where they want to go eventually.

Unlike Jerusalem, Bethlehem is unique in that there is no Israeli presence or occupation. It is an city with an Arab character through and through, and, for bad or for good, it is exceedingly pleasant place to visit.

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Back in Jerusalem

It's beautiful to me.

We're a bit out of time sequence with this posting as it's almost a month since I last visited the blog. Put the blame on a) lasting-and-serial cold miseries for both of us, and b) a subsequent lack of inertia. We are back in Jerusalem after almost two months in Europe with visits here and there, and the sun and warmth of Palestine is welcome. Other than a couple of initial weeks in July of pleasant temperatures, even Italy became a bit nippy; northern Europe was down-right cold. We should have known and prepared better. I intend to write more about our Brussels, the Netherlands, Luxembourg and German adventures.

On our return to Jerusalem we stopped in Bergamo again for a three-day auto tour of the lakes district around Lecco, Como and Bellagio, and to thaw, of which I will also write more later.

Struggling with luggage in the dark has never been my favorite past-time, and Bergamo airport was FULL of people at 0600 hrs. Laden with Belgian chocolate for us, friends and family, we were bounced for having too much luggage, and, because of extra-bag and overweight charges, we ended up with some of the most expensive chocolate Belgium ever produced. The intention was to bring enough to Florida for friends, but if you think you might qualify, I would suggest restraining any anticipation; we still have a month to go and I dearly love chocolate.

We were again surprised at the opulence and efficiency of the Tel Aviv airport. The airport twenty years ago was pretty dismal, but it can now be considered one of the best terminals in our rather extensive experience. Of course, coming into the country is one thing, going out, with the attendant security, is quite another. The best part is that the next time we visit the Tel Aviv airport it will be to fly home.

R. and I drove to Bethlehem yesterday (Friday) on the first days of Eid ul-Fitr (the Moslem holiday at the end of Ramadan) and the Jewish New Year. It was the perfect storm of holidays. Both Jerusalem and Bethlehem was very quiet, as you would expect. This trip involves two crossings between the PA and Israel, but even the border point was empty and a formality. We did see at least one check post established on the Jerusalem side with traffic lined up, so there was the usual close watch by the authorities during Fridays and religious holidays.

We heard much more in Europe of the planned desecration of the Moslem Koran by the little sect in Florida, mostly from U.S. news shows. Here, it hasn't even come up in conversation, and television seems preoccupied with other topics. If there ever was a manufactured crisis of mouse-sized proportions, this is it. People we know seem to be slightly bemused at the tizzy the plan to burn the Koran has caused in the U.S.; they seem to understand that doing stupid things and living a life of naïve ignorance is protected as an American birthright, and that Fox News and CNN make money blowing things out of size. Pakistan may be an exception, as there is a history of finding excuses to burn down the American Embassy.

There is far more interest in the now and future peace talks between Israel and the Palestinian Authority, as well as an equal amount of skepticism about any success. We'll keep an eye on this over the coming days.

Such monumental considerations are over the horizon for us today. The sun is shining, it's about 27 C. on the shaded porch, a big lunch is in preparation, and we're back with family. And somehow, somewhere, I've picked up about five kilos around the middle.