Last trip with Baba

A 20,000 km bicycle tour returning my fathers ashes to China

Cycling to the lowest place on earth

Posted on March 3, 2014 by bodhitree

I stood at the top of the trail and pondered pedaling down into the valley. Something inside me wanted to turn back and said that it was a bad idea, I ignored and held the brakes on a long rough trail into the Dana Biosphere…

Locals on the trail to Feynan village, Central Jordan.

I sat at the top of the trail for close to an hour, where I finally decided to pedal into the valley.

I left Petra and picked up supplies to give to the local Bedouin in the remote village of Feynan. During my last day in Petra I met a man who had visited the village earlier and had mentioned the poverty and poor living conditions of the Bedouin there. School note books, several dozen pencils, 4 kg of sugar, black tea, lighters and bread filled my already stuffed panniers, and I pedaled a long steep 60 km to the historic village of Dana. From Dana it is a 30 km hike on a steep trail down into and out of a protected reserve, and spent close to an hour contemplating my next move. If I take Gaby down into the valley there is no turning back, I watched the sun move behind rain clouds and freewheeled into the canyon….here we go I thought.

Rough segments on the trail to Feynan village

After a few km, I was about ready to give up. The road, a parts, was so steep and rocky that it was too dangerous to ride and I had get off the bike and push. I looked back to the top of the mountain and wondered if I should turn back. I decided to call it a day and slept a few km from the trail head, listening to the howl of Jordanian wolves throughout the night. Local Bedouin had warned me earlier not to camp in the canyon, but I ignored their warnings as I thought it was an attempt to sell me a hotel room. All night I head the wolves hunting and I shivered at the thought of them finding my tent. I awoke the next morning to the sight of goats eating my prayer flags strung across the top tube of Gaby. After a few cups of Bedouin sweet tea I decided to push on and had a long hard day pedaling through rivers, up rocky trails and on sandy roads leading into narrow canyons, finally I arrived at the remote village of Feynan.

The trail went up steep mountains, down cliffs and through muddy wetlands

I stopped for tea, and ended up dressing several of the inhabitants fly infested, pus filled, flesh wounds with my first aid kit. I didn’t have any gloves and after about an hour my complete kit was empty, the locals had used all my bandages, antibiotic ointment and alcohol wipes! I dressed a total of 5 wounds then was offered a place to stay and served sweet tea with fresh goat milk. Outside the village I met a Bedouin man who worked for the school department, he invited me for more tea and I gave him all the school supplies to distribute in need. He offered me a place to camp and I slept easily in the warm spring night, dreaming of infected wounds.

I was definitely rocked out upon arriving at the village

The next day I pedaled north to a small village south of the Dead Sea called Al Mazara. There I met with a friend from Dahab, Egypt and we loaded up on supplies and hitched to a nearby Wadi for an adventure. We hiked through the Wadi (canyon) for several hours and found a nice sandy spot to camp. We gathered wood, built a fire and swam in the river till nightfall. Telling stories, eating humus and drinking tea till late evening. Rain came by surprise and soaked my tent and our sleeping bags but the night was warm and the good vibes continued on.

Wadi Numera, canyon leads to the Dead Sea

Wadi Numera, a long hike in the canyon leads to the Dead Sea

The canyon was so narrow in certain areas that sometimes I had the impression I was in a cave.

Today we hiked out of the canyon and tomorrow I am headed explore more of the Dead Sea.

Petra, Wadi Rum and deserts of southern Jordan

Posted on February 26, 2014 by bodhitree

Treasury temple, Petra

Greek style columns adorn many of the Petra structures

I crossed into Israel completely shocked by a western culture, sun bathers, men lifting weights on pristine beaches and women in bikinis reading fashion magazines. Crossing the border wasn’t easy and because I neglected to take off my head scarf I was taken into an interrogation room. Thoroughly questioned about my purpose of visit, every response seemed to draw more suspicion, and finally, after making notes in the computer, they welcomed me into the country.

Long sandy stretches, Wadi Rum

Israel is about 4 times as expensive as Egypt, putting it inline with the States. Headscarves, so popular in Egypt by men and women alike, were replaced by “Yamakas” and the ever-present Muslim forehead callous, a very respectable mark made from praying 5 times a day, was replaced by frowns as I asked locals where I could buy fresh vegetables and fruit at a reasonable price. I spent my day’s allowance on bread, coffee and humus then retired to a secluded bio-mass dump to sleep. The next morning I packed up and headed to the Jordan border, I am not quite ready for the western world again. Israel charges a $30 dollar tax to cross into Jordan, and after paying the hefty fee they warned me that I might not be allowed to enter with a bicycle and that the tax I paid was non-refundable. (How sweet). I caught the Jordanian customs officer during his morning prayer, and was greeted with a smile when I presented my passport. “I have never met an American who come to Jordan by bicycle, most German, French and Swiss cyclist, American are too lazy to ride, and like to ride in air condition bus”. I am not sure if the officer was intentionally trying to dis me, or my home country but please let it be known that I am giving us, non-lazy Americans, a good name/reputation in the Jordan and the rest of the middle east.

Sun baked, and desert worn

Wind carved sand, follows the paved highways throughout southern Jordan

I pedaled into the port city of Aqaba, passing several military check points along the way. Aqaba literally means difficult in Arabic, and the city has a long history of being conquered by Arabs, Ottomans, Christians and other warring tribes. Evidence is apparent in the ruins of several ancient Mosques and the remains of the oldest-purpose built Christian Church. My first impression of Jordan/Aqaba was a “classy” middle east. Saudi Arabia is only 20 km from the city, and all over I was constantly passed by beautiful, vintage Mercedes Benz’, Rolls Royce’, and the occasional Bentley. (all of course sporting the Saudi license plate). Middle aged men and women walked the sidewalks wearing beautiful handmade silk robes and vividly colored burkas, and families had catered picnics on the turquoise watered beaches.

Quiet, lonely desert, Wadi Rum

I pedaled to the local “food street” and found venders selling spices, vegetables and fruit in the back of pickup trucks. All in all I purchased two dozen pita bread, half a kg of hummus, 1 kg of pasta, vegetables, 2 boxes of juice box cheese, 0.5 kg of honey cake and a kg of raisins all stuffed in my rear left pannier. I was stocking up for the southern Jordanian deserts, and hoped that it would be enough to feed me in and out of Wadi Rum (a nature preserve about 100 km away). As I was pedaling out of the city a local coffee roaster drew my attention, fresh Yemen coffee with Cardamom, from the city of Mocca,$3 a pound. I stuffed it in with the rest of my supplies and pedaled a long, windy highway, teaming with semi trucks out of the city.

Too sandy to ride, I carried 6 litters of water, my tent, and sleeping bag over 30 km shopping style

The only thing that you can’t buy at an REI or camping equipment store is the most important thing, will power. Pannier over my shoulder, sleeping bag and plastic bag full of water I walked over 30 km in the sandy deserts of Wadi Rum

Aqaba lies at the bottom of a huge alluvial fan, and the climb out was like escaping from a whirl pool. Since arriving in the middle east I have this constant fear of running out of water. Distances between cities can sometimes be over 100 km, and the dry desert terrain leaves little hope for survival. The whole Jordanian country is one large desert with the only natural water is the Dead Sea. Some towns have salty wells and water has to be trucked in. Pedaling up steep passes Gaby lurched and shimmied with the weight of 6 litters of water. The sun fell behind a large rocky butte and traffic ceased. I turned a sharp corner saw a long line of cars and trucks parked on the shoulder, misalayas (prayer rugs) were rolled out on the desert floor, and all the inhabitants were praying into the sunset. This truly is a beautiful country.

Canyons, Wadi Rum

4,000 year old petroglyphs found in the canyons of Wadi Rum

Arriving in the village of Wadi Rum, the last inhabited village before the nature preserve, I was constantly hassled by locals trying to sell me a 4×4 off-road tour of the canyon. “Why would I want to ride in your stinky jeep when I can pedal peace”? They wouldn’t take “no” for an answer so I pedaled away with several Bedouin chasing me into the desert. I pedaled a few km and was forced to push Gaby through the thick, hot sand. The vast canyons and remote landscape of Wadi Rum was such a paradise and just what I needed to unwind after an intense few days. “Most tourists get stuck at Petra, to look at what man created, little tourists come to Wadi Rum, which was created by God” said a local Bedouin. I pedaled, pushed and walked throughout the park and stayed 5 days in almost complete solitude. After the first few days I ran out of water but met a few Bedouin villagers who gladly replenished my supply and offered me sweet tea in their tent. We drew pictures of animals in the sand and exchanged names. Getting foo, on the other hand was not as easy and soon I was eating bread crumbs and pure sugar. The last two days I ate nothing but sugar, sesame oil, and curry spice, not a very good diet on the stomach but it at least it kept the hunger pangs a bay.

Gaby was more than happy as she got the “royal” treatment. I carried her more than half the time through rocks and sand in the preserve

After a long, hard two hours of pushing Gaby through the sand, I pedaled back to the main road and had another long, busy climb to the Petra crossroads. Now at elevation, a cold wind, chilled my desert worn body and I spent a freezing night listening to the wind batter my tent. At first light, after striping down and changing clothes in full view of the tourists passing in large group buses, I pedaled to the ancient city of Petra.

Tomb, Petra

Sacred sacrificial alter at the top of a steep mountain, Petra

Sacred sacrificial altar at the top of a steep mountain, Petra

Petra is a marvel and a must for anyone near Jordan. The ancient city is a fabulous collection of ancient architecture and beautiful canyons. Established as early as 600 BCE by early Nomadic Arabs migrating from the Arabian peninsula, the Nabataeans made the city a popular stop over point for traders carrying frankincense and myrrh to the Mediterranean. The early architects combined elements of Greek, Egyptian and Syrian culture and the city flourished for hundreds of years. In the first century, the Romans conquered the middle east and Petra became the Arabic Roman capital. Due in part to a series of major earth quakes that damage the cities aqueducts as well as the decline in paganism (Frankincense and Myrrh were no longer used in rituals), Petra declined and was eventually abandoned after being conquered by the Arabs in 663 CE. The abandoned city was unknown to the western world until a Swiss traveler described his visit in 1812, since the city has become a UNESCO heritage site attracting over 500,000 visitors every year. The “Treasury Temple” was featured in the film Indian Jones and the last Crusade.

Petra birds eye view, the city once had a population of over 20,000

I spent three days wandering from tomb to temple to residence. Each structure was carved completely out of the sandstone rock. It is fascinating to see how one of the earliest civilizations lived and thrived in the desert, building/carving massive facades to honor their gods and loved ones. Yesterday I stayed in the city well after dark and had the whole city to myself, an absolutely enchanting experience even though I was stumbling around in the dark. Petra is exceptional and I was able to look through the hundreds of tourists and constant hassle of locals and see the marvel within.

Irrigation canals carved into the stone line the entrance to the city

Remains of a Pagan temple

I am now headed to the Dead Sea and plan on being in Amman, the capital by next week. I should be in Israel by early March. Will write again as soon as I find internet.

Hours before arriving: Terrorist’s attack bus in Taba

Posted on February 17, 2014 by bodhitree

About 2 km from the Israeli border, police closed all access to the city for 8 hours

About 2 km from the Israeli border, police closed all access in and out of the city

My pace was rather slow yesterday, and as I got close to the city of Taba the streets became flooded with ambulances. I pedaled around a rocky cliff and saw a line of cars waiting to cross a check point into the city. The fully armed patrol guard, refused to tell me what was going on but said “City is closed today, come back tomorrow”. I was at least 30 km from the nearest super market and was completely out of food and water. I pushed Gaby up a steep, rocky side road and camped, boiling water scavenged from the road side.

View from rocky camping spot

Today I cycled into Israel and passed the above wreckage kilometers from the Israeli border. Yes…. I am scared.

Egypt’s most wanted: An American cyclist in the Sinai

Posted on February 16, 2014 by bodhitree

Thump.. thump.. thump… My heart beats so strong that I can feel my body flex with each beat. In the distance the silhouette of St. Catherine and Mount Moses defined the horizon and the wind carries the sound of Arabic shouts to my desert hiding place. “What have I gotten myself into”? I peak over the sandstone rocks protecting me from view and see that a road block has been established and each car passing is stopped and interrogated about my whereabouts. I have two options now, give up or go with Bedouin into the desert. (Inner Sinai Troubles, Happy Valentines day)

Bedouin girl makes me Farasee, thin tortilla-like bread

Ancient Orthodox Church tucked away near in valley Mt. Moses, Inner Sinai

Ancient Orthodox Church tucked away, Inner Sinai

Three hours earlier I was drinking tea in a small Bedouin village, and upon departure was followed by an unmarked pickup truck filled with men in head scarves and Kalashnikov rifles. Is this normal? Define normal I thought, this is the middle east and I am in a country marked “Avoid at all costs” by the United States Travel Advisory website. The truck crept up behind and followed at a slow pace. Sometimes I would look back and they would be gone, only to hear them creep up again a few minutes later. Eventually they sped up, yelled and pushed me off the road. A man in all black clothes and a green head scarf jumped off, and the truck sped off. He approached, said “hello” and then offered me a cigarette. I declined, and pretending to stretch. After a few awkward minutes the man turned his back to me and walked a few meters away, checking the contents of his pockets, and I took the opportunity to run. I jumped on Gaby and sped off, the man taken by surprise tried to stop me but was a few steps behind, as I pedaled away he got on his cellphone, and started shouting in Arabic into the receiver. What the fuck is going on!! My mind raced, I only had a few minutes before the truck would circle back. I needed to hide!!! I rode out of sight of the man behind me and turned onto a small dirt road, frantically pedaling to a small hill of sand stone rocks about 100 meters from the road. Behind the hill was a small crevice, big enough for me to lie down and hide from view, I removed all my reflective clothing and listened.

Drinking tea with local Bedouin, hours before being chased by Egyptian authorities

Drinking tea with local Bedouin, hours before being chased by authorities

Who are/were these guys? What do they want with me? I peeked over the mound of rocks and saw the pickup truck return to pick up the man. I was just out of eyesight from the road, and between the small stack of rocks I could peek out at the road. The car pulled a quick 180 and sped off into the distance. Are they gone I thought? I looked at my camera for the time, it was only 4 pm! It wouldn’t get dark for another 2 hours!! I contemplated my next move, I needed a better hiding place. About 100 meters from me was a small ravine, but to get there I would have to expose myself and be in full view of the road. My thoughts were broken by the truck returning. I peaked out, they were back and were now driving slow. The men in back were standing up, and looking out into the desert. Shit, these guys are serious! At this rate there is no way I can move to a better hiding place and I can only hope that it will get dark before they decide to drive down the dirt road.

Riding and hiding on remote desert roads of the inner Sinai

Riding and hiding on remote desert roads, I carry a minimum of 6 liters of water.

I shivered in the wind and waited peeking out every fifteen minutes to check on the situation. Things were getting worse, 2 more unmarked trucks had arrived and they were now parked close to 100 meters from me. The men were stopping traffic. Fuck!!! “I am not going to give up” I thought, I had just listened to a podcast about a women who was held in captivity for 6 months and her story was fresh in my mind, “stay strong” I thought. After about an hour an old Bedouin man came walking down the road, he pretended not to see me and then slowly walked over.

Roadside Bedouin hut

“These men are crazy” He said in a heavy accent. “What do they want”? I asked, “They look for trouble” his response. “Who are they”? I asked, “Egyptian, Egyptian go with me and we hide” he said. I thought for a few minutes… if these guys are Egyptians then they are probably some sort of authority. “Police” I asked. He didn’t understand. I decided to man up and confront the small militia looking for me on the road. They would eventually find me anyway, and if I went with the Bedouin man it would only cause him trouble.

Gaby gets loaded in police vehicle, it took 3 men to lift her! Over 80 kg with water and sugar!!

“No cyclists since Arab Spring” an Egyptian voice screams at me through a mobile phone. “This is a very dangerous area for tourists” “Two Australians killed recently” you must come with us. The men wearing headscarves showed me their police badges then a marked police truck pulled up. Gaby was loaded into the back, and we sped off towards the coastal region of the Sinai. The truck was full of guns, ammunition, and body armor, and driver blasted exotic middle eastern music as we drove into the sunset. Ten minutes later the engine sputtered and the car came to a halt, “no petrol”!! the driver said. A minute later a second truck came up behind and Gaby was unloaded and load again into the next vehicle. The new driver sped off again into the desert, driving like were being chased, after about 10 minutes the car lurched and came to a halt, tire troubles!! The man in charge got on the CB radio and like before another truck came to the rescue. However, the third truck was different and unmarked, filled with men in full head scarves. We sped off again into the darkness, and they dropped me off at a random check point in the middle of the desert. “Don’t diss us again”! The driver shouted, then sped off. I was alone and it was pitch black. This is how the government protects me? Leaving me in the middle of the desert after dark? I pedaled another 10 km and camped in a sandy ravine. Earlier that day I had slept in excrement filled cave on the top of Mt Moses and hiked close to 3,000 feet, before falling asleep I laughed from the comforts of my tent…What a day!!

Stone hut, Top of MT Moses

Earlier this week

Leaving Dahab was not easy! and I must admit that I fell in love! I have never felt so much chemistry with someone, maybe it was all the spliffs or the opium tea, or maybe it was just meant to be, love in Dahab! The logical side of my brain completely shut down, and it took me a few days to decide what to do. After a long night of thinking I came to the conclusion “You have got to be one super, special person to hold me back from my journey, and this is not the case, I must keep going… there is still so much for me to do”. I said goodbye and left Dahab during a colorful sunset.

Its hard not to get pumped on Egyptian road signs!!

Food prices in Egypt are great for the touring cyclist! Most cheeses and perishable goods can be purchased in air tight, juice box form great for on the go snacks! A local meal at the restaurant costs about $2-3 US dollars, and it is easy to survive on $ 4-5 a day. The local favorite is bread dipped in a Tahini and Molasses mix, middle east peanut butter!

Salah, my Bedouin friend makes me “tobania”, fire bread with spices

Police check points are everywhere and super intense! Like I mentioned in the earlier post the officers at each checkpoint are armed to the teeth and ready for an attack. Heading into St. Catherine (located in the inner Sinai) I was constantly searched for explosives, hashish and all other illegal substances. It is obvious that the authorities are looking for a way to get a bribe. I am also constantly warned about kidnappings and other dangers involving the local tribes in the area. The Bedouin say the Egyptians create the problems and the Egyptians say the opposite, who can I believe?

Head scarf lesson, Bedouin elder

In Dahab I purchased local Bedouin clothes and started wearing a “shmock” (Bedouin head scarf). This is not only a great “ice breaker” with the locals but also a great way to bond with the elders by having them teach me the different styles of wearing the scarf. I have been taught over 4 ways to wear the “Shmock” and its practicality in the desert supersedes a western hat. I also carry over ten pounds of sugar in my panniers to give to the remote Bedouin villagers when I pass. The Bedouin love sweets! Each village I pass, I stop and befriend the children and elders, then give them a kg of sugar. I am then usually invited into their home, served tea and offered either; “Tobania” (fire cooked bread) or “Farasee” thin bread cooked on an upside down wok. These breads are usually accompanied by feta cheese and yogurt. Sometimes, though the Bedouin villagers are so kind that they offer fish and rice, which is eaten by hand while squatting! Today a group of Bedouin gave me lunch and then handmade me an anklet!

Fish and rice lunch

I need to work on my hand eating technique!! I am pretty terrible

I need to work on my hand eating technique!! It’s embarrassing

The road to St. Catherine was absolutely stunning! The scenery is a mix between Death Valley National Park in California and Canyon Lands National park in Utah.

Desert roads to St. Catherine

I arrived in St. Catherine city in the late afternoon, and searched for a few locals to accompany me to the top of MT. Moses. Warned earlier by policemen and the US travel website, the St Catherine and Mt Moses area is a high risk kidnapping zone, and technically if I followed all the advisories I shouldn’t have even come here! Two Australians were kidnapped a few months ago, and security is really tight. I took the best precautions necessary, and found two local Bedouin guides to travel with me to the summit. These guys were super chill and carried my gear with a smile. We hiked through canyons, up steep mountain trails, and stopped for tea in the local villages. These are the same steps that Moses took after seeing the burning bush! It took us close to three hours to make the summit.

Bedouin guides pack me sleeping bag, thermarest and stove for the trek to Mt. Moses

Bedouin guides pack my sleeping bag, therma-rest and stove for the trek to Mt. Moses

About 500 meters before the summit the trail got really steep, and I hopped from rock to rock slowly ascending in the cold mountain winds. Small stone huts rent blankets and serve coffee but my two guides carried my sleeping bag, thermarest, stove and Bosnian coffee with ease! The top of Mt Moses offers a bird’s eye view of the whole Sinai, and at night all the big cities are visible; Sharm, Dahab, Nuweiba and Medina all the way in Saudi Arabia. Other than a beautiful view there are two permanent structures; a small Mosque and a Greek Orthodox church. The Church was closed but the Mosque was open and my guides helped me gain entry and let me take a few photos.

Arabic text in Mosque, Mt. Moses

Stone huts near summit

Mt. Moses Pre dawn sunrise, minutes after losing my cave to some “Egyptian Hot boxers”

Cave shelter/ Rubbish bin/Toilet, definitely saved me in the early morning frost

Cave shelter/ Rubbish bin/Toilet, definitely a savior in the early morning frost

After a spectacular sunset I slept on a large rock overlooking the valley. I fell asleep early, and watched the moon move over head. Just around midnight the wind picked up, and the temperature dropped. I was freezing! I tucked my head inside by bag (Bedouin style) but my teeth still chattered! I packed up and searched for a place to hide. About 100 meters away I found a small cave,,it seemed empty so I tossed in my gear and set up to sleep. Upon closer inspection the cave was filled with trash and several people had used it as a toilet! It stunk and I accidentally put my head on used toilet paper, I was too cold to care. I slept until 4 am, at which point I was awoken by a group of Egyptians who wanted to “hot box” the cave.

View of the valley

The sunrise was just as spectacular as the sunset, but I shivered in the fierce winds. My guides took me on “secret Bedouin” trail back to the city and we passed an old Orthodox church tucked away in a remote canyon. The Catherine Catholic church, which houses the “Burning Bush”, was closed but my guides pulled a few strings and got me inside. More interesting than the burning bush was the 5-6th century painted icons inside the chapel. It was interesting to be a Buddhist with two Muslims in a sacred Christian church.

Cave painting St. Catherine Catholic church

Official “Burning Bush” St. Catherine

Supplies are “muled” up to the summit

Orthodox rock painting

I have now overstayed my Sinai visa by 3 days, and hope to be in Israel by tomorrow. I am absolutely in love with the middle east and have already extended my stay till late March. Will post videos as soon as I find a better internet connection.

Rocks worn by the floods, climbing through a crevice on route to the summit

Rocks worn by floods, climbing through a crevice on route to the summit of Mt. Moses

Dahab continued

Posted on February 10, 2014 by bodhitree

Bedouin elder Joma

My plans to depart this awesome city continue to get postponed! I have spent the last 4 days, cycling to the route beaches north and south of the city, exploring large canyons and desert oasis’, and hangout with the local Bedouin. The Coral reefs are never ending and every night you can find local Bedouin cooking clams, and bread in an open beach fire. Visa expires in 4 days! Europe is so boring compared to the middle east!

Wadi Gnei, canyon

Aiesh Beladi, local bread

Endless coastal road

Thoughts of an Egyptian Sunrise

Posted on February 6, 2014 by bodhitree

Three rolls of Turkish airlines sticky tape!

I arrived at the Sharm El Sheikh airport at 4 am, and waited close to an hour for my bicycle to be unloaded from the plane. While waiting I befriended the duty-free employee and was invited to enjoy some sweet Egyptian tea. The airport was rather small compared to LAX standards but was still large enough, in Egyptian standards to have two Mosques! I listened to the morning call to prayer while putting Gaby together.

The sun came up and I noticed that I was surrounded by dry, rocking mountains. After figuring out what direction to ride in, I pedaled out on the desert roads to the city. It is hot here, and the sun is fierce! The airport was on the outskirts of the city and I pedaled through sun dunes and mosques for the first 20 km. The climate conditions are very similar to the Mohave desert in California, but just when you think you are in America, a beautiful minaret stands out in the horizon.

Remote villages in the interior of the Sinai

Sharm el Sheikh is not my kind of city, tourism has destroyed the natural beauty of the landscape, and now Egyptians from all over the country flock to make a dollar from the sunburned tourists. My best comparison to the city is Tijuana, Mexico, all beach access in Sharm is owned by the frequent 5 star hotels, and it is impossible to go swimming without paying an outrageous sum of Egyptian pounds. There is no place for me or like-minded people in Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt.

A secret local Sharm beach full of trash and dumped construction supplies

The next day, I couldn’t wait to pack my gear and pedaled out of the city. The next destination was a small beach city in north-east Sinai, called Dahab. This city is famous for its kite and wind surfing and only has a few hotels. The road between Sharm and Dahab took me through the mountainous interior and while pedaling I wondered how Moses and his tribe could survive in such an extreme landscape for so long.

Extreme conditions of the inner Sinai

In the distance Moses mountain!

I arrived in Dahab and met with my connection, an Arabic language teacher hiding from the problems in Cairo. He lives in a tent on the beach with a small family of Bedouin who own and run a small restaurant. The Bedouin are a minority ethnic group a lot like the early American Indians. They are the earliest inhabitants of the deserts, and are very connected with the earth and nature. They have little desire for money, possessions and business, and spend their day’s fishing, smoking and drinking tea. They are the friendliest and most honest people I have met in Egypt, and wear beautiful traditional clothes. It is not uncommon for a family to have more than 30 members and males in the tribe can have up to 4 wives. There are Bedouin tribes all over the Sinai but Dahab has the largest tribe in Egypt, and they are known as the Mazeena.

My Bedouin friend Mah mood

Dahab it quite a culture shock, the beach front has a very western Promenade and a few restaurants, but the rest of the city is a large Bedouin village. My guess is that Dahab is a lot like what Kauai (the Hawaiian island) used to be like before tourists. Children playing the in dirt, herds of goats, and women in full Burqa frequent the mud and dirt streets. Toyota pickup trucks roam the narrow alleys and cats and dogs run rampant throughout the city.

Classic Bedouin desert vehicle

Dahab sunset

There are quite a few expats here, mostly Europeans teaching surfing or driving. Dahab has a large coral reef, and a small anomaly known as the Blue hole, where divers can be pulled into a coastal abyss. Yesterday I dived with a Bedouin friend and he taught me which shell-fish to eat, and I watched him free dive through the reef colorful coral collecting food for lunch.

Standard Egyptian breakfast, Aiesh (Pita bread), Behoney ( fermented vegetables) and yogurt

Alcohol is rather uncommon in the city and is sold mostly to Haweiga’s(foreigners). I visited the bottle shop last night and quickly departed when I noticed it was full of Europeans. The alcohol alternative however is very popular amongst locals and expats. Its concentrated form is also found almost everywhere tobacco is sold! The middle east is like no place I have been before, I am full of extreme excitement and am constantly overwhelmed by this fascinating culture! Tomorrow I will head to the extreme remote interior, and will camp at the Orthodox monastery in St. Catherine. Hope to write again soon, internet is pretty scarce.

Colorful village door

Warm waters of the Red sea, Saudi Arabia in the distance

From Bosnia to the middle east

Posted on January 31, 2014 by bodhitree

Historic Mostar bridge separates the Catholic side of the city from Muslim

Hello all! I have successfully arrived in the Bosnian capital of Sarajevo and am blown away with a mix culture. Bosnia is broken into three ethnic groups, Catholics, Orthodox and Islam, and the country has three land regions and presidents! Today is my 5th day in the country and have cycled some pretty rough roads getting here. Tonight I depart Bosnia for Sharm El Sheikh, in the Egyptian Sinai, and a whole new adventure begins. I plan to spend the first few weeks exploring St. Catherine’s monastery (where Moses received the Ten Commandments), Petra and the Dead Sea. I will continue my posts from the arid roads of the middle east and look forward to some interesting experiences.

Cold Mountainous Bosnian roads

: Islamic calligraphy

A modern day Zhuangzi

Posted on January 27, 2014 by bodhitree

The wind battered, and swayed my tent all night, I awoke to a frozen landscape. The grass crunched like corn flakes under my bare feet, and my water supply was now too frozen to drink. I walked a few hundred meters to a local restroom, teeth chattering, skin pulled tight around my bones. I looked in the mirror and smiled. Like a frozen lake, the movement from my lips caused my face to twist and crack. I was looking at a reflection of myself ten years from now, skin wrinkled and damaged from the sun. It was not hard to imagine a slouching, grey figure that I will soon become. If this is the future… What am I waiting for?

Ariel view of Dubrovnik

Cathedral arches

It is mid June, I am halfway across New Mexico and the temperature on this average summer day is close to 120 F. I am in the middle of a 100 mile stretch, no utilities, gas stations or even a sign of life. Desert, black tar, and yellow sand. I pedal over a small hill and come upon a man pushing a shopping cart. His shoes are broken, his face burnt and an old cowboy, bill flapping in the wind, is pulled down over his eyes to shade his wrinkled face. He might be what the Chinese would call a modern-day Zhuangzi, although at first I was not sure the intelligence of a man walking across the desert at this time. “Do you have any gum” he asked. “Chewing gum”? I said. “Your walking in it” I replied pointing to the sun melted asphalt. We talked for a few minutes, like this, kind of half-joking, half Zen Koan speech. From what I could get out of him, his name was Jean, and he had started his trek a few months earlier, planning on walking all the way to North Carolina, with a shopping cart full of supplies. He offered me a melted power bar, I accepted and told him I was going, he then said “Don’t live your life like you have a 1,000 years”. I laughed an pedaled on.

Old, peeling paint, fortress door Dubrovnik

Empty historic neighborhood

Two days ago, while riding outside of Croatia’s southern most city Dubrovnik, a semi truck carrying a large stack of jagged rebar turned into me. Within a split second, I knew that I had to speed up to avoid the oncoming disaster, and pedaled with force to avoided a collision. After a few deep breaths, I realized how close I had been to danger, and that there was not much I could have done to control it. The cold northern winds (Bura) are so strong over here that the other day I was almost struck by a flying bumper! Like a toupee in a comedy film, the wind pulled a plastic bumper from a passing van, and threw it in my direction. The driver, unaware of his loss continued on down the road, and I turned into the road to avoid the odd-shaped plastic tossing and turning in the wind. This is by far the strongest wind I have encountered on this trip and is comparable to riding the Whittier Fjord in Alaska. The wind pulls branches from the trees, and pushes rocks down steep cliffs.

Room for 2, Gaby and I take a elevator to the 7th floor of friends in Ploce

Room for 2, Gaby and I take an elevator to the 7th floor of friends in Ploce

Cliffs sunset

Yesterday I spent 6 hours exploring the small, Medieval city of Dubrovnik. The city has become quite popular in modern-culture as the set of the sci-fi T.V series “Game of Thrones”, and is one of Croatia’s most visited tourist destinations. The city was one of the largest and busiest ports in the Mediterranean sea, second only to Venice and was a sovereign state for hundreds of years connecting the east to the west through trade, culture and religion. Built during the Byzantium period 100-200 BC, Dubrovnik continued to thrive as a port until the late 1800’s. Built like a fortress, the old city is surrounded by stone walls 20-30 meters high, and still has many surviving outposts. Almost empty, I chose a rather inclement day to explore the historic site, but encountered another world traveler heading to Iran in a camper van. Walking around in I had the streets and long alley ways to myself, and found it hard to imagine a densely populated ancient port city. The city has a beautiful harbor, and I found myself looking more to the horizon than to the historic buildings.

Bridge to Dubrovnik

View from the city walls

Outside of the city I befriended a lady who took my hand and told me that it was cold to be riding a bike. She then offered me a room in her house and now I am the sun bathing on her porch overlooking the Adriatic Sea. This is the end of my Croatian adventures, tomorrow I will be in Bosnia and Saturday is my flight to Egypt. Will write again from Sarajevo, be alive! The first New Moon, Chinese New Year, is on Friday!

Cycling the Croatian Chili pepper

Posted on January 24, 2014 by bodhitree

Dalmatians in the sunset

The shape of Croatia is a lot like a chili pepper, not the southern Chinese chili peppers which are practically bell peppers, but more like the northern Chinese, long and skinny, hot and spicy, a La Jiao pepper,(so hot that you will look to the sky for respite). The stem and the seeds run through the interior of the country starting at the capital, Zagreb, moving west to the busy port city of Rijeka, and ending at the interior hub of Knin. (Knin was a stronghold for the Serbs during the Serb-Croat war, and was held in captivity for close to 5 years). Further south, is the more tasteful, seedless part of the pepper, the cities of Zadar, Split and Dubrovnik, offer a window to the ancient world in terms of architecture and history.

One of the most beautiful sunsets I have seen in a while, the sun through liquid on the island of Hvar

The weather has been unforgivable; rain, torrential winds and hail, continued to follow my path from the Plitvica lakes all the way to Split. Small patches of snow, remind me that the weather could be worse, but on several occasions my feet and hands went completely numb, and all day I awaited my warm sleeping bag. My tent has become the equivalent of a “work truck”, small leaks have gotten so bad that I now have put out my cook set during the night to collect the dripping water. The zipper on the fly has also failed, so to keep the water out I had it sewed shut in a local village, now to get in I have to crawl. It all adds to the enjoyment though of living in the wild, and I am thankful for all I have.

Arches in Split

Sometimes the sun can make all the difference

Ancient Mosaic line the streets in the old City, Split

The sun came out during my visit to Split, and I took the opportunity to dry all my gear on the busy tourist strip. Mistaken for homeless I was quickly offered a warm meal and a few beers, more Croatian hospitality. Beautiful ancient structures, the old city was built in the 3rd century, and the majority of the citizens still drink water from original artesian well, the Jadro Spring. The Diocletian palace, built during the same period, is the hub of the old city, and offers a glimpse into Roman times.

Diocletian palace

I am now pedaling south on the Dalmatian coast on route to Dubrovnik. Each day I am offered handfuls of seasonal oranges and greeted with smiles from the local farmers. The rain continues though and I am now drinking coffee in a café while my tent sits vacant on an isolated road.

Lakes in the interior

BUSTED!! Plitvica National Park

Posted on January 18, 2014 by bodhitree

You must pay a fine! You have no respect for park rules! You think that just because there is a road that cars and buses travel on means that you can ride a bike here…. Look, there is a sign, look read the sign! Either you pay or we will call the police (First encounter with Croatian Forest Rangers, Plitvica National Park)

First Violation: Camping in a National Park
Second Violation: Riding a bike on paved roads

Moss covered trees climbing out to the water

After a fantastic day of hiking around waterfalls and lakes, and thoroughly enjoying Croatia’s most popular national park, I returned to my campsite to find two angry Croatian Forest Rangers. These guys were big, buff, had shaved heads and were pissed off. I had broken 3 parks rules; camping (not allowed in Croatian National Parks), cycling (Not on forest paved roads) and forgetting to pay the day fee (I admit that I am guilty of this). I tried to reason with them, thinking that they were just trying to get a bit of cash off me, but I quickly learned that they were serious when they pulled out the carbon copy ticket book. All the red meat and rakija in their blood would not let me go without paying a fine, and I got off to a bad start by not giving them my passport, rather having them use my expired California drivers license as identification (Better safe than sorry, they could have been cons). First they wanted to charge me 800 kunas, then we reasoned to 600, finally I got them down to 400, but tried to get away with 200. Bad idea!! Authority is power, and when your job sucks (being a Ranger in the winter season), you enforce. OK!! 400 kunas, close to 80 US dollars for camping and cycling in a National Park!! WTF!! The worst part…… I had to pack up all my gear and head out of the park after dark and was warned that if I tried to camp again within park boundaries I would be fined again. With this sort of treatment you would think that I was starting campfires or trying to mug a bear, all this for peacefully camping in nature. Sometimes it is obvious that there is nothing you can do, the more you fight the more you sink and this was the case. Well…. what to do, I tried to make the best out of it. I pedaled out of the park in the dark, and felt a bit hopeless, but found a nice guest house about 10 km down the road. I am now staying with a Asian Chief who specializes in hand pulled noodles, I guess things could be worse.

I think most would break the rules to camp in nature like this

All seven lakes lead to a waterfall

Paths between lakes and waterfalls, I hope my 400 kuna fine goes to maintenance of these

Paths between lakes and waterfalls Plitvica National Park

(Earlier this week) Leaving Pula, I pedaled through the darkness to an open field, and slept under a clouded sky. Unaware at the time, I slept near a rooster coop, and awoke quickly to a premature cuckadoodledoing every hour between 2 to 6 am. I packed up at first light, and spent a long day cycling in the rain. Damn, in my time off I have become accustomed to leaving in doors and having a roof over my head during a storm. With nothing to turn too, I found sanctuary in the hood my rain jacket, that was until the wind picked up. I pedaled through Rijeka and had a very close call in a tunnel at the south end of the city. Riding on the sidewalk in the tunnel I slipped, skid and totally biffed it, grabbing onto whatever I could I ran into the wall to keep from falling into the busy street! Cars honked, and the sound of brakes echoed in the tube. I pushed my bike from there on and coughed-in the putrid air.

International Diplomacy:
A Nigerian, Palestinian, and an American all under one roof having a great time

Village outside of Rijeka between storms

Cevapi, greasy sausage links and onions between two Croatian pancakes

Just outside of Rijeka I found an empty park near a Pizza parlor, and set up my tent in a non-stop downpour. Everything was soaked, and I slept naked in my damp sleeping bag. I could smell the crusty bread and garlic coming my way from the restaurant and for a few hours I could hear the waiter calling to the chief “Malo Pizza, (Small) and Veliki Pizza (large)”. Another night of cabbage and bread but I spiced things up with a little tomato sauce.

Spring is coming, flowers remind me that it won’t be cold forever

Big waterfall, Plitvice NP. I immediately felt small and futile against the roar of water pouring forth in front of me

The rain continued all the next day, and after cycling some 60 km I departed the coast at the city of Senj, and climbed into the interior. A deep canyon, sliced through the ocean cliffs, and I pedaled with undaunted strength through a terrible head wind. I used my international diplomacy techniques (mentioning the names of famous Croatian Athletes, offering Rakija, then open my arms wide and gesturing sleep) to befriend a farmer, and he let me camp in has backyard. All night my tent swayed back and forth in the strong, cold mountain winds.

Strange trees in the Croatian interior

Thick lycophilic mushrooms grow in the countryside

I climbed through fog, hale and fierce winds all the next day, and at one point the wind blew my spare tire from the rack of my bike. A nice Italian couple drove by picked it up and drove it back to me. “Your American right”? They asked. “Crazy”, they said. It is nice to know that other than being known as the “international peace keepers” were are also known as “Crazy”. I finally arrived within the Plitvica National Park boundaries, but slept outside so that I could load up on supplies for the next few days.

I spent two days walking around the lakes and waterfalls, it was a bit strange that I haven’t encountered anything of this sort in other parts of Croatia

Two loaves of bread, pickled cabbage, ajvar, noodles, crackers, and a local bottle of Rakija. Panniers stuffed, I was ready to enter the park. When I arrived at the entrance there was no one in sight, the guard kiosk was empty and the patrol booth that issued tickets was deserted. I did a bit of off-roading, and managed to sneak into the main park road. There I camped next to a waterfall and the rest is history. Although being hassled by the Rangers I thoroughly recommend visiting the park, it was absolutely beautiful!

The path continues, either in forward or reverse

The path continues, we decide: forward or reverse