After successfulling hitchhiking from Mitzpe Ramon, I was pretty disappointed to find Eilat just another boring seaside resort. Lots of families, lots of tall hotels, lots of money. But in Eilat (most likely in response to my whinging), a fellow traveler pointed me in the direction of Dahab, Egypt. I hadn't planned on going to Egypt on this little excursion (at that point I still had the ticket to Cairo that I was forced to buy before I was allowed into Israel. This was all before the recent unrest), but it was only a couple of hours down the road, and the diving was supposed to be better than in Eilat.
It was a good decision.
Dahab's the sort of place I tend to forget to take any pictures. Good thing fransglobal remembered.
I planned to spend 3 or 4 days SCUBA diving in Dahab before returning to my original course for Jordan. But after 3 or 4 days it didn't seem precisely necessary to leave the next day. Or the day after that. I think I was in Dahab for 10 days, total.
Dahab's most famous dive site is the Blue Hole. (photo credit: Stephane Bailliez)
Despite being just off the beach, it is over 130m (~426 feet) deep. It is (in)famous for the large number of divers that have died attempting to pass into it through an opening, 'The Arch,' at 58m (the limit for normal sport diving is 30-40m).
Wanna see something crazy? Despite the fact that it is dangerous for SCUBA divers, even those with additional equipment and training, there are nuts that free dive The Arch.
Needless to say, I did not dive The Arch.
Nonetheless, I had a wonderful time diving. The water wasn't as warm or clear as when I was in Indonesia, but I saw many of the same stunningly beautiful fish. Unless otherwise noted, the following photos and species identifications are borrowed from divemecressi's flickr photostream.
"Rush Hour"
"I'm 'tired.'" Moray eel.
Polyp Butterflyfish - Chaetodon austriacus
Royal Angelfish - Pygopilates diacanthus
Emperor Angelfish - Pomacanthus imperator. One of my favorites: they get big for reef fish, perhaps 18" long and a couple of inches thick. But what's most remarkable..
..is the juvenile Emperor Angelfish. It's the same species, I swear.
I saw one of these guys in Indo and I could barely contain my excitement until we got back to the boat. They're small, about the size of your palm, and very shy. Seeing one is a rare and wonderful treat. This picture hardly does them justice: the blacks are inky dark and the whites vibrantly bright while the indigo regions seem to glow and shimmer, straddling the edge of the visible spectrum. It's like there's a black light pointed at them at all times. (photo credit: bartsmit)
"Parallel" A variety of clownfish (of "Finding Nemo" fame).
Chromodoris quadricolor, a variety of Nudibranch. This guy is maybe an inch long.
After 3 or 4 days of diving and 3 or 4 days of.. um.. right, well, 3 or 4 more days, I decided to do something. That something was hiking a few kilometers north of Dahab to sleep on the beach in a little Bedouin community.
The sun sets with the lights of Dahab just visible beyond the headland.
There wasn't anything there. Really, practically nothing. Even the Bedouin clear out for the winter. After spending the night in a hut on the beach (lower right) we decided to go for a bit of a climb (upper middle).
My companion for this little excursion, Charlotte. She is French-Canadian and cute as a button with such a delicate little accent that even fellow Quebecois assume she must be from Paris.
Like I said: ain't nuthin' there. I went snorkeling along the reef after the climb. It was nice but mostly just made me wish for proper SCUBA equipment.
After spending the night on the beach, the next item on the itinerary was climbing Mt. Sinai. In the middle of the night, to wach the sun rise from the summit. That sounds like fun, right?
Oof.
It wasn't a difficult climb or anything. The path was wide and flat, the moonlight more than sufficient to see by and there were little huts selling massively overpriced tea every couple of hundred meters. The biggest irritant was having to constantly reiterate that no, thank you, you were not interested in renting a camel. But man, it was cold. And it just kept getting colder as we neared the summit. And then our 'guide' (I use the term very loosely) told us we had reached the last tea hut before the summit and should wait there for dawn. "But, uh, it's only 3. What time does the sun rise?" "A little after 5."
Thanks, jack ass. We now have to wait more than two hours freezing our butts off while fending off insistent tea sellers. Tea was 10 Egyptian Pounds, blankets also 10 EGP and beds could be used for 20 EGP (it was a little less than 6 EGP to the dollar at the time. For a sense of scale, I was paying 40 EGP per night at my swanky hostel). It felt way too much like a scam, arriving so early only to be hassled about sitting down inside the hut ("You buy tea! You buy tea or you leave!"). Charlotte got so fed up with them that she stormed out and waited it out in her sleeping bag.
But ya know? As I write this post, weeks later and no longer half frozen to death..
..it was worth it.
Yes, that's snow on the lower right.
It was fairly crowded up top, but as the sun was rising some of the pilgrims started singing psalms. It was enough to bring tears to your eyes. That and the biting wind.
I think this is one of the better pictures of me, quite frankly.
Most of the people on my tour, shivering and wondering where our 'guide' had disappeared to.
He was down in the tea hut, obviously.
There's a cute little chapel at the summit, but it's tough to get a good shot of it. Possibly because it's on top of a frickin' mountain and there's nowhere else to stand. Greg Fung got a nice one, though.
After watching the sun rise, the Thing to Do is to take the old path down to St. Katherine's (you ascend on the modern, tourist friendly path). It's steep and winding and treacherous and just about as much fun as the whole sunrise thing itself.
A deadly calm mere. Mere? Yes, mere.
An arch along the path.
There was another even more photogenic arch a little ways further on, but two entrepreneurial youths had stationed themselves athwart it in order to sell souvenirs. After being forced to physically remove the younger and more persistent of the two from my way, I very much doubted they would have allowed me to take an unobstructed photo. Clever little buggers probably make more money from photographers than from selling souvenirs.
The path descends to St. Katherine's, one of the oldest active monasteries in the world.
You would think it would be an awesome place to visit.
Note the various styles and qualities of stonework, indicating numerous different construciton and re-construction efforts.
But the monks seem more devoted to the Almighty than to the Almighty Dollar. There were no photos allowed inside the main chapel, the museum with the all of the nice relics cost more money to get into and it took about 5 minutes to walk around the area open to tourists.
A Templar cross built into the exterior wall.
Fifteen minutes after we walked in, we all stumbled out and headed to the van. It had been a long, cold, exhausting night/morning.
It was a good decision.
I planned to spend 3 or 4 days SCUBA diving in Dahab before returning to my original course for Jordan. But after 3 or 4 days it didn't seem precisely necessary to leave the next day. Or the day after that. I think I was in Dahab for 10 days, total.
Despite being just off the beach, it is over 130m (~426 feet) deep. It is (in)famous for the large number of divers that have died attempting to pass into it through an opening, 'The Arch,' at 58m (the limit for normal sport diving is 30-40m).
Wanna see something crazy? Despite the fact that it is dangerous for SCUBA divers, even those with additional equipment and training, there are nuts that free dive The Arch.
58m down, 30m across, then 58m back up. One breath, no fins. Note how after 10m or so he isn't even bouyant anymore. He just sinks straight down. What a whacko.
Needless to say, I did not dive The Arch.
Nonetheless, I had a wonderful time diving. The water wasn't as warm or clear as when I was in Indonesia, but I saw many of the same stunningly beautiful fish. Unless otherwise noted, the following photos and species identifications are borrowed from divemecressi's flickr photostream.
I saw one of these guys in Indo and I could barely contain my excitement until we got back to the boat. They're small, about the size of your palm, and very shy. Seeing one is a rare and wonderful treat. This picture hardly does them justice: the blacks are inky dark and the whites vibrantly bright while the indigo regions seem to glow and shimmer, straddling the edge of the visible spectrum. It's like there's a black light pointed at them at all times. (photo credit: bartsmit)
After 3 or 4 days of diving and 3 or 4 days of.. um.. right, well, 3 or 4 more days, I decided to do something. That something was hiking a few kilometers north of Dahab to sleep on the beach in a little Bedouin community.
After spending the night on the beach, the next item on the itinerary was climbing Mt. Sinai. In the middle of the night, to wach the sun rise from the summit. That sounds like fun, right?
Oof.
It wasn't a difficult climb or anything. The path was wide and flat, the moonlight more than sufficient to see by and there were little huts selling massively overpriced tea every couple of hundred meters. The biggest irritant was having to constantly reiterate that no, thank you, you were not interested in renting a camel. But man, it was cold. And it just kept getting colder as we neared the summit. And then our 'guide' (I use the term very loosely) told us we had reached the last tea hut before the summit and should wait there for dawn. "But, uh, it's only 3. What time does the sun rise?" "A little after 5."
Thanks, jack ass. We now have to wait more than two hours freezing our butts off while fending off insistent tea sellers. Tea was 10 Egyptian Pounds, blankets also 10 EGP and beds could be used for 20 EGP (it was a little less than 6 EGP to the dollar at the time. For a sense of scale, I was paying 40 EGP per night at my swanky hostel). It felt way too much like a scam, arriving so early only to be hassled about sitting down inside the hut ("You buy tea! You buy tea or you leave!"). Charlotte got so fed up with them that she stormed out and waited it out in her sleeping bag.
There was another even more photogenic arch a little ways further on, but two entrepreneurial youths had stationed themselves athwart it in order to sell souvenirs. After being forced to physically remove the younger and more persistent of the two from my way, I very much doubted they would have allowed me to take an unobstructed photo. Clever little buggers probably make more money from photographers than from selling souvenirs.
But the monks seem more devoted to the Almighty than to the Almighty Dollar. There were no photos allowed inside the main chapel, the museum with the all of the nice relics cost more money to get into and it took about 5 minutes to walk around the area open to tourists.
Fifteen minutes after we walked in, we all stumbled out and headed to the van. It had been a long, cold, exhausting night/morning.
My stomach is still in knots from watching William Trubidge dive the arch -- nice body but a very crazy stunt. Grandma enjoys your posts more than yo can imagine. I know she sees herself making the trip with you.
ReplyDelete