Now don't get me wrong: I'm a lazy guy. But after more than a month doing not a whole lot in and around Jerusalem, even I was getting a little antsy. And Michal had finals to study for (she claims to study less when I'm around), so I headed south.
The first stop was En Avdat, a cute little national park in the Negev Desert. Also, coincidentally, the burial place of David Ben-Gurion, Israel's first prime minister. He advocated the settlement and improvement of the Negev Desert (which constitutes more than 50% of Israel's area) as a way for Israeli Jews to expand without Arab obstruction. He put his money where is mouth was by moving to nearby Kibbutz Boker upon retiring from politics in 1970.
The view from he and his wife's graves. Alright. I'm headed down into that canyon, to the right a bit.
Goats! Ibex! Everywhere! And thoroughly unimpressed by my presence.
Sunset in the desert.
If you look closely you can just see the top of my tent on the lower left. I found a perfect little nook in the sandstone cliffs above the wadi, out of the wind and above the creek bed.
I was pretty sure I wasn't allowed to camp there, so I didn't light a fire that night. It got cold. It would have been wonderfully tranquil but for the IDF jets and helicopters on exercise a couple of miles away. Just as I was falling asleep there would be another distant sonic boom or a jet would roar and screech through a hard, low level turn. Thanks, guys.
Coffee!
The next morning, after the park rangers had helpfully pointed out that I was not allowed to camp on that particular part of the desert ("That bit over there is just fine. But here? Come on, be reasonable."), I made coffee. I may be 'roughing' it and all, but I'll be damned if I'm going to break camp any earlier than 10am or go without coffee. A bit later while I was sipping and reading (like I said, 'roughing it'), I began to notice more pebbles than usual falling down the cliffs above me. And every once and again a short shrill whistle. Birds? IDF planes? Not quite..
Thegoats ibex seemed pretty irritated that I'd set up camp alongside one of their trails. They'd poke their little heads over the ridge, stare at me for a minute, then whistle in alarm and run off. This went on for a good half hour. Not too bright, goats ibex.
En Avdat itself. 'En' means 'spring' or simply 'water'.
The numerous springs created the canyon itself and made the location a refuge for flora and fauna of all sorts, including the two legged variety.
Along with the water, large flint deposits made the site very attractive for hunter gatherers. There is evidence of at least part time human occupation going back thousands of years.
Getting near the top. It was a bit of a climb, lugging my big backpack. The trail is actually one way (up) due to several sets of steep stairs/ladders that are too treacherous and narrow to climb down.
At the top looking back the way I've come, with a Byzantine structure on the left.
Those crazy Byzantine monks loved getting out into the middle of nowhere.
People were looking out this same doorway at this same view 1,500 years ago. Madness.
At the very beginning of the canyon there is a 20 or 30 meter sheer drop down to the first pool. Bedouins have been coming to this spot for generations to painstakingly water their flocks one bucket full at a time.
Oh, hey, look who it is! One of the a**holes that kept me up all night! Ya know, jet pilots try to maintain that calm, calculating demeanor like "We're professionals." Bullshit, I say. They're boys (and a few girls) with the biggest, loudest, fastest toys on earth. And they get paid to play with 'em.
After hiking all the way up the canyon of En Avdat, I found myself back on the highway and only a couple of kilometers away from the ruins of Avdat. Walking seemed to be the theme of the day, so I set off.
"This backpack is heavy and those ruins are a long way away."
The acropolis of Avdat. Photo credit: wikipedia.
Avdat began as a Nabotean way station guarding and providing refuge for caravans between Petra (their capital) and Gaza, on the Mediterranean Sea. When the favored route changed sometime around the first century B.C.E., Avdat responded by adopting agriculture and, in particular, viniculture. It's kind of hard to believe, given the arid climate, but the Naboteans excelled at water management, constructing miles of terraces and canals along with numerous cisterns and wells.
In 106 A.D. Rome annexed the Nabotean domains, leading to a mix of Nabotean and Hellenistic culture.
Those Romans and their baths. Note the false floor, allowing steam from boilers outside the building to warm everything from the ground up.
They even put terracotta pipes in the walls. This is all 100% original, nearly 2,000 year old plumbing.
If I remember correctly, this dome is original as well. Pretty good at building things, those Romans.
The majority of the town was located on the steep slopes below the acropolis, with caves cut into the hillside for additional living space and storage.
Wine!
Looking out over the desert from near the summit of the acropolis. If you look carefully, you can make out some unnaturally straight lines on the valley floor. I suspect those are remains of the Nabotean terraces.
This is a fabulous picture.
The view from the acropolis.
Sadly, a number of earthquakes have largely destroyed Avdat.
A side gate into Avdat. I probably could have just walked up the hill and into the site, but my backpack was very heavy. And the lady at the ticket booth let me leave it in the office while I was exploring. That's one entrance fee well worth the money.
The remnants of a Byzantine church (Avdat was occupied up through the 7th century C.E., more than enough time for Christianity to take over). That's the apse and altar over my left shoulder.
Unfortunately, my camera batteries died shortly after this shot. Fortunately, flickr has me covered.
It's a winepress. A big f'ing wine press. The bunches of grapes were laid in the exterior chambers where frolicsome barefoot youths (I'm speculating a little bit here) danced about, causing grape juice to flow towards the center... (photo credit: Phil Long)
..where it was collected and flowed into the cistern. Musta been a lot of wine they were making, eh? (photo credit: Loving OT)
They've got these silhouettes all over the place. Kitsch? Yes. Still kinda cool? Definitely. (photo credit: JoJoLog)
The desert surrounding Avdat. Good shot, levglick.
From the ruins at Avdat I caught a bus to the next 'town' along the highway: Mitzpe Ramon. After one night in Mitzpe and a very welcome hot shower, I was ready keep moving south, to Eilat, Israel's port city on the Red Sea. But it was Friday. Friday is not a good day to be traveling or, well, doing much of anything in Israel. Pretty much the whole country shuts down for Shabbat.
Regarding buses from Mitzpe Ramon to Eilat, my Lonely Planet guide had this to say: "From Sunday to Thursday, bus 392 travels to Eilat (48 NIS, 2-1/2 hours) at 9:53am, 10:53am... There is no bus on Friday."
I had two options: hitchhike or spend another night in scenic Mitzpe Ramon. The girl working at the gas station couldn't even finish the sentence when she gave me the second option: "Or, you could enjoy the weekend here in.. uh.. Mitzpe.." So, hitchhiking it was.
I didn't have too much hope. Not only was it past noon and nearly Shabbat, there were two other travelers trying to hitchhike as well. They were only trying to go 10 or 15 km down the road, to the entrance to a national park. Just as I was edging around to arguing that they ought to set off walking ("Who's going to stop for three hitchhikers? Be reasonable."), a car pulled over. Yoni (the Israeli nickname for Jonathon) spoke almost no English but he played his music very loud, drove very fast and was very excited to be giving us a ride. It was quite a feat convincing him that the other two travelers actually wanted to get out of the car in the middle of nowhere desert. "No, no, come to Eilat. We make good party, yes?"
And that's why I love traveling. In less than 5 minutes I went from convinced that I was going to have to spend another night in a cold, boring place to flying along the highway with Yoni, rocking out at 120kph. Fantastic.
The first stop was En Avdat, a cute little national park in the Negev Desert. Also, coincidentally, the burial place of David Ben-Gurion, Israel's first prime minister. He advocated the settlement and improvement of the Negev Desert (which constitutes more than 50% of Israel's area) as a way for Israeli Jews to expand without Arab obstruction. He put his money where is mouth was by moving to nearby Kibbutz Boker upon retiring from politics in 1970.
The next morning, after the park rangers had helpfully pointed out that I was not allowed to camp on that particular part of the desert ("That bit over there is just fine. But here? Come on, be reasonable."), I made coffee. I may be 'roughing' it and all, but I'll be damned if I'm going to break camp any earlier than 10am or go without coffee. A bit later while I was sipping and reading (like I said, 'roughing it'), I began to notice more pebbles than usual falling down the cliffs above me. And every once and again a short shrill whistle. Birds? IDF planes? Not quite..
OMG, WTF?
The
After hiking all the way up the canyon of En Avdat, I found myself back on the highway and only a couple of kilometers away from the ruins of Avdat. Walking seemed to be the theme of the day, so I set off.
Avdat began as a Nabotean way station guarding and providing refuge for caravans between Petra (their capital) and Gaza, on the Mediterranean Sea. When the favored route changed sometime around the first century B.C.E., Avdat responded by adopting agriculture and, in particular, viniculture. It's kind of hard to believe, given the arid climate, but the Naboteans excelled at water management, constructing miles of terraces and canals along with numerous cisterns and wells.
In 106 A.D. Rome annexed the Nabotean domains, leading to a mix of Nabotean and Hellenistic culture.
If I remember correctly, this dome is original as well. Pretty good at building things, those Romans.
Unfortunately, my camera batteries died shortly after this shot. Fortunately, flickr has me covered.
From the ruins at Avdat I caught a bus to the next 'town' along the highway: Mitzpe Ramon. After one night in Mitzpe and a very welcome hot shower, I was ready keep moving south, to Eilat, Israel's port city on the Red Sea. But it was Friday. Friday is not a good day to be traveling or, well, doing much of anything in Israel. Pretty much the whole country shuts down for Shabbat.
Regarding buses from Mitzpe Ramon to Eilat, my Lonely Planet guide had this to say: "From Sunday to Thursday, bus 392 travels to Eilat (48 NIS, 2-1/2 hours) at 9:53am, 10:53am... There is no bus on Friday."
Sheeeeeeyit.
I had two options: hitchhike or spend another night in scenic Mitzpe Ramon. The girl working at the gas station couldn't even finish the sentence when she gave me the second option: "Or, you could enjoy the weekend here in.. uh.. Mitzpe.." So, hitchhiking it was.
I didn't have too much hope. Not only was it past noon and nearly Shabbat, there were two other travelers trying to hitchhike as well. They were only trying to go 10 or 15 km down the road, to the entrance to a national park. Just as I was edging around to arguing that they ought to set off walking ("Who's going to stop for three hitchhikers? Be reasonable."), a car pulled over. Yoni (the Israeli nickname for Jonathon) spoke almost no English but he played his music very loud, drove very fast and was very excited to be giving us a ride. It was quite a feat convincing him that the other two travelers actually wanted to get out of the car in the middle of nowhere desert. "No, no, come to Eilat. We make good party, yes?"
And that's why I love traveling. In less than 5 minutes I went from convinced that I was going to have to spend another night in a cold, boring place to flying along the highway with Yoni, rocking out at 120kph. Fantastic.
Trust the camera has new batteries so you can keep the posts coming! More doorways and more feet...all good!
ReplyDeleteBenjamin,
ReplyDeleteOne of the most entertaining of your posts. Really enjoyed the read and pictures. By the way, those "goats" are a variety called Ibex. They're the Middle Eastern variety as opposed to the European variety in Spain and elsewhere.
Berkeley