Adventure Ivan

Couch Surfing in Vancouver

2012-02-11T23:20:00Z

After some time in Calgary, I hitch my way to Vancouver and stay on a friend’s couch. The perfect time to be in Vancouver, the streets are filled with people, everyone is partying. I’m hooked and decide that this is where I will base myself in Canada.

First day of the Olympics, I join a protest before heading off to a bar to watchge the opening ceremony of the Olympics with some amazing people. Two of the people I meet that night leave a lasting impression on me, Avi is loud, funny with a quick wit, great humour, a real talent in the kitchen and a way of hugging everyone and making them all feel welcome, eventually she becomes one of my closest friends and room mate.

Harm, a Belgian free spirit, worked and traveled Australia, Canada and New Zealand, buys a motorbike to ride from Vancouver around Alaska and across Canada to the East Coast, surfs a year in NZ, visits me in Australia and has the right ideas about work life balance, another great friend.

These guys are just the start, over the next year I meet over fifty people that become friends, family, loved ones, people closer than I’ve known before, and all after meeting each other through couch surfing.

So what is it? A simple concept:

When you travel, you stay with local people, for free or you meet with them, to see their take on the city.
When you live somewhere, you host people, for free, or you show them around.
You go to meetings at bars or out in nature and you discover like minded travelers who share a passion for exploring the world.

But won’t I have problems? Short answer, no. Longer answer, no, CouchSurfing has a references system, similar to ebay feedback, someone with a hundred friends and two hundred positive references isn’t going to think of doing you any harm. So visit my profile, let’s become friends, and eventually we can meet when our paths cross :)

Happy Holidays 2011

2011-12-23T15:36:00Z

Hello everyone, let's just say it's been a very long time since I've updated this travel blog. According to the blog, I've only arrived to Canada to catch the Olympic Games. Since I stopped writing in the blog, I bussed and hitchhiked my way to Vancouver to enjoy the games. As we all know the games finished almost two years ago, Canada won the hockey grand final and the Olympics.

Eventually, I found a programming job at a small company in Vancouver, spending the weekends traveling the surrounding areas with a myriad of friends in the country.

One day, one of my best friends, Marc from Quebec approaches me and asks me if I want to go to Mexico. I figure why not, and that's how I ended up leaving Canada. Marc and I buy a large van and drive most of North America over a period of six months.

After the North American trip, I make my way over to Germany and travel from there overland to Russia.

Where I've been in the past two years, chronologically.

So you're probably wondering, what does that mean for this site and blog? Well in truth, I like writing, I've just had a million excuses to not do it, but that doesn't change my passion for it, so I'm going to find the time to address the past two years worth of stories and adventures, and believe me, there have been a lot of them.

I have put together a little present for everyone though, a little photography collection that I put online a couple of months ago from Kiev, a small collection of my favourite photos (Kruchkoff.com).

Between now and when I start publishing again, I want to wish all of you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year from Russia and hope you're all having the best time wherever it is that you may be and whoever you're spending the time with.

Thanks for being so great, here's a photo of me in a little village in Belarus taken a couple of weeks ago,

Ivan "Adventure Ivan" Kruchkoff

A True Canadian Welcome - Olympic Torch Relay and Snowboarding at Lake Louise

2011-01-08T19:50:00Z

A good friend from Australia is in Calgary on a work and travel visa working at the local ski hill - Canada Olympic Park (COP) and I'm headed to Calgary to visit him. I get into town at noon and give him a call. He tells me to get to the hill by 2:30pm as he has a surprise for me.

At 2:15pm, I'm at the hill to greet him.

Me: Hey Josh.

Josh: Welcome to Canada, here's a ski jacket and pants. Lets get you a snowboard and some boots. We're headed to Lake Louise in half an hour.

That same day, we hop in the car and head out of Calgary, into the Canadian Rocky Mountains to the small town of Banff, a lively town focused on the activities of the local mountains. That same night, the Olympic torch relay is passing through Banff. My first day in Canada, I'm in a ski hill and I see the torch relay in Banff.

The Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics has three main mascots, Miga, Quatchi and Sumi.

The following day, we head out to Lake Louise for a day of snowboarding. Along the road from Banff to Lake Louise, we see a truck that went off the road, a sobering reminder to drive carefully along the roads in Canada.

We arrive at Lake Louise to find there's a special Olympic price for lift passes, and that the resort has gone all out to welcome the torch.

A big kicker has been setup at the bottom of the hill so every visitor can watch the show. Before the arrival of the torch, there are a lot of skiers and snowboarders doing tricks off the kicker. When the Olympic torch arrives, it's passed to the owner of the Lake Louise resort who rides up to the base of the kicker in a snow cat. The final part of the show involves everyone doing tricks over the Olympic torch.

Disaster strikes when one of the younger guys goes for a big spin and loses one of his skis mid air. He bails hard in front of a crowd of several hundred and knocks himself unconscious. At first, everyone is too stunned to do anything, and the show goes on, with successive jumpers seeing him at the last minute and barely avoiding hitting him. After twenty minutes, he is taken away by ambulance to the hospital.

I enquire around and find out the skier was a 16 year old kid who has great hopes of one day competing for Canada in the Olympics. The fall looked bad but he only lost a couple of teeth and cracked two of his ribs, a very lucky break indeed.

After the torch leaves, we stick around for some photos and then proceed to hit the hill for some snowboarding. It's my first time on the snow in nearly two years and I only have twelve days of riding under my belt, so my friends, all of whom spend their lives working on ski hills and snowboarding, decide to give me a nice warm up run. We take a chairlift up, start heading down a black run, then head under the ropes and proceed to find a way down an almost vertical cliff.

I nearly bail several times, yet somehow manage to make it down to join them at the chairlift. Since we're now warmed up, they decide we should try something a little harder. I'm a little nervous.

We take the chairlift up, and this time head out the back to where there is a lot of fresh powder and a lot of trees, two very new experiences for me. They notice that I'm a little nervous so they decide to give me a couple of tips.

Josh: For riding fresh powder, you want to put all of your weight on your back foot.

Me: Ok.

Josh: The secret to trees is to avoid looking at them, as you tend to go where your looking.

Me: Ok.

Josh: Got that?

Me: Sure.

With that, we take off. They go well ahead of me as I start down, my weight on the back foot. I keep repeating to myself, don't look at the trees, don't look at the trees, but the trees get thicker and thicker and closer together requiring a bit of maneuvering. After a near miss with one tree, I see a huge one in front of me and think, wow that's a huge tree. In the time it took to think it, THWACK, I've hit it and fallen on my back.

The next half an hour is spent digging myself out, hitting trees and swearing. By the time I hit the bottom, my friends have taken off so I spend the rest of the time riding on my own, doing runs that are a little more saner.

All in all, the day turns out to be the great introduction to Canada possible, seeing the Olympic torch twice and snowboarding down one of Canada's greatest ski resorts on a fresh powder day. I could get used to this.

Las Vegas to Calgary, Road Tripping in Style

2011-01-05T05:52:00Z

After speaking with the receptionist at my hostel, she said it might be possible to find a lift on craigslist rideshare. That day, I check on the site and sure enough, there is one offer. Without hesitation, having had enough of Vegas, I decide to take the lift.

Travelling in style, road tripping in a 42' recreational vehicle (RV) with Travis, a really cool dude from Lethbridge.

$180,000 gets you the ultimate luxury model, hydraulic extensions for the living and bed rooms, two plasma screen TVs, a leather sofa and two queen beds.

We drive through Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Montana, Idaho and Alberta. Along the way, we stop by and pay a visit to the parowan prohet. An absolute nutcase Mormon who claims to have foretold the end of the world.

In Idaho, we stopped at the Idaho potato museum, but when they wanted money to go in, we decided against it. Who would in their honest minds pay to go to a museum of potatoes?

After stopping in a walmart, I try and find the guns section.

Me: Where are the guns? I want to see the guns.

Assistant: We pulled the guns from the shelves, we don't have many left. Hang on a minute and I'll bring them out for you to browse.

Me: Sure thing.

* Five minutes pass and eventually the assistant comes out with a shopping trolley, full of merchandise *

Me: What the hell is this?

Assistant: Toy guns, like you asked for.

Me: How am I supposed to defend America with toy guns?

Assistant: ...

Me: Where are the real guns?

Assistant: I'm afraid we don't stock them in this walmart.

So I'm yet to find the guns in Walmart, but am happy to arrive in Canada two days later, ready to see the olympics and find some work.

Hitchhiking in and around Las Vegas

2010-12-23T22:51:00Z

A day spent in Las Vegas was enough for me and I'd decided to leave and explore outside of Vegas. Why?

There was the three card monte on the pavement.

The walking billboards and all of the business cards for strippers and prostitutes.

I decide to go to Red Rock Canyon for a day trip. After an hour spent traveling 10km (remember, Vegas is rubbish for buses), I have to walk/hitch hike the last 5km from Red Rock Casino. Lucky for me, I meet a dude who's currently down on his luck (a lot of people in Vegas are down on their luck). He gives me a lift the rest of the way and tells me how he's a really successful business man who's just lost his house (gambling) and is now living out of his truck until he gets back on his feet (stops gambling). He's a really nice guy though.

After hiking my way around the park, I decide to hitch my way back into town. Not the best idea, a state trooper pulls up and over the car megaphone he states:

"Sir, it is illegal to hitchhike along a state highway. You may walk, but you cannot hitchhike."

With that, he drives off. Typical American hospitality, but something I am now unaccustomed to, in most of the countries I had travelled, if a police officer sees a tourist hitch hiking, he'll give them a lift for free (I had this happen in China, Kyrgyzstan and Georgia). After being certain that the officer has driven out of view, I pull my hand out of my pocket, extending the thumb in an act of defiance.

Not even a minute passes when an old beat-up van pulls up. "Get in friend", the Mexican couple is warm and inviting and has no problem giving me a lift to the outskirts of town so I can catch a bus back to my hostel. Seems to me that opening the border to Mexican immigrants will make the country a friendlier place.

The following day, following my successes at getting to Red Rock Canyon, I decide to head to hoover dam. It's possible by tour, but at $90 for the trip, I decide the DIY approach is cheaper and easier.

First part of the trip, taking the bus to Boulder, a small town not far from Vegas. From there, the buses stop running and so it's back to reliable and illegal hitch hiking. For four hours I walk along the road trying to flag down a car and for four hours I am denied. It seems that all the movies and stories on the news have Americans in fear of travelers, assuming they are all axe murderers, rapists and thieves. As sunset approaches and with barely 10km left, I decide to call it a day and reluctantly head home, crossing to the other side of the highway to try and hitch back.

Within fifteen minutes, a car stops for me. Having just returned from his second tour of Iraq, the guy decides to spend his paycheck on a hotel room, black jack, some blow and lots of hookers. The entire time in his car he tells me about how much the Iraqis love the Americans for coming over and bringing democracy to Iraq and bringing freedom to everyone. He's quite candid in telling me about how they use and abuse the locals.

I'm getting a free ride, it's a small price to pay to sit there and keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself. When we arrive back in Vegas, he invites me to get drunk with him in the evening and visit a strip club. He's surprised when I politely decline.

Scammers in Las Vegas

2010-10-04T04:51:00Z

After all of the drama at Frankfurt airport, I was hoping for an easier experience in Las Vegas. Turns out, the public transport system there is rubbish, it takes close to forty minutes to get from the airport to the strip and it's barely 10 kilometres.

I arrive and plan to couchsurf, only my host is never around so that falls through, leaving me walking around town looking for a cheap hostel. I must have sucker written over my face, as soon an entrepreneurial fellow decides that I'm his mark for the day.

Hey buddy, want to head to a show tonight for free? asks the mid forties guy with a thick Italian American accent. Sure, I reply. He hasn't realised that he's already sold me on the idea and continues his sales pitch:

See in Vegas they have these things called comps, complimentary gifts they give to loyal players. I've been coming to the Bellagio for over fifteen years, I'm on very good terms with all the old timers there. I was supposed to meet my buddy and see a show with him, but he had to pull out and I realised my flight is taking off soon so I can't make it. But you, you look like a nice kid, you remind me of my son, that's why I wanna help you out.

I'm nodding along with him, he's making such a great offer. Before I had left home, I would have never trusted an offer like that, but then I'd spent a year travelling and had people take me in, feed me and give me a place to sleep only for the sake of doing good deeds. I'd met a Polish couple who were hitchhiking in Georgia, after a car stops, they start a conversation with the driver, who tells them it's easier to explore a country with a car and so he lends them, complete strangers, his car for two weeks with no form of security and only the trust in humanity to be good. So, I'm hoping that this is one of those cases, unfortunately I've already realised that he's going to try and rob me, but given that his shtick is so well practiced, I want to see it out and see how he decides to scam me, thinking afterwards, I'll take him out for a beer.

So here's what I'm gonna do for ya. First off, because you remind me so much of my son, I'm going to get you a room, comped, at the Bellagio, you get everything, spa, gym, massage, all you have to do is pay room service and tips. Secondly, I'm going to get you tickets to see David Copperfield, come on, let's go make a phone call. - How a successful gambler can't even afford a phone is beyond me. Whatever, I'll play along.

Seems he knows all too well where all the payphones are, how many professional gamblers know where the pay phones are. He calls the number that he's memorised for the Bellagio and gives me the phone. Here, he says giving me the phone. Make sure it's the Bellagio and that I'm not bullshitting you.

Hello, Bellagio, Emma speaking. I nod and pass the handset back to him telling him he's talking to Emma, this is where his well practiced shtick really steps up a notch.

Emma hi, can you please pass the phone to Tommy... he waits. Hi Tommy, yeah it's Louie, yeah I'm heading back to New York tonight, no, it wasn't such a good trip this time. No, I won't make the show tonight, actually that's why I called. My nephew is in town (to me: What's your name? Ivan I reply), his name is Ivan and I don't have the time to show him around, can you give him my tickets? (to me: How do I spell your surname? I spell it out and he repeats it over the phone. Thanks Tommy, listen can you also get him a room and into a party for later tonight? Thanks Tommy, I'll see you when I get back. My nephew will drop by in 10-15 minutes.

With that, he hangs up, looks at me and smiles, you lucky guy he tells me, not many guys your age stay at the Bellagio, see a Copperfield show and head to a party on the same night. You're right I repeat, I am lucky.

We head back out on the strip and he points out how to get to the Bellagio, just go there, ask for Louie, tell him you're Tommy's nephew Ivan and everything is set. Have a good night.

He turns to walk away, checks his time and turns back to me. That took longer than I thought, now I'm running late. Give me $20 to go catch a cab, it's the least you could do.

No, I reply to him...

What do you mean no? I just got you a room and tickets at the Bellagio, you spoke with them.

No you didn't, I tell him you're a joke of a scammer, piss off and stop trying to take advantage of people's trust.

With that, he left.

The nerve of such jackasses...

Leaving Germany, Frankfurt to Las Vegas

2010-09-17T03:40:00Z

Flying from Germany to the US should be simple right? Show up to the airport on time, show them your ticket, board the plane. This time, things didn't go as smoothly...

I arrive at Frankfurt airport over two hours before my flight, reach the check-in counter and proceed to have the following exchange:

Girl at counter (GAC): Ticket and passport please.

Me: Here you go. * Handing passport and printed e-ticket. If you don't have one printed in advance, just head to the counter for that airline and ask them to print you a copy *

GAC: Onward ticket please.

Me: What's that?

GAC: To let you in to the United States, I need to have proof of a ticket out of the country.

Me: I have a Canadian working visa * Show copy of Canadian Work and Travel Permit *

GAC: I'm sorry, but a visa doesn't qualify as proof of onward travel. You need to have a flight ticket out of the country.

Me: Canada and the US are neighbours, my plan is to just hitch-hike up or take a bus.

GAC: You can show me a bus ticket.

Me: I don't have a bus ticket.

GAC: I'm afraid I can't let you onto the plane without an onward ticket.

Me: So what do I do?

GAC: There are a lot of counters for last minute tickets, you can buy a ticket there and then come and see me.

Me: Thanks

So with just under two hours left for my flight, I head over to the last minute ticket counters, to try and find a refundable ticket. I approach every window asking for a refundable ticket from the US to ANYWHERE only to find that if I take that option, I'll lose 150 Euros in fees.

I still have my laptop with me and thankfully, I charged it before I left. I turn it on, pay the 8 Euro internet fee and start searching for cheap airline tickets. After forty minutes searching, I've found a business class ticket with Air Baltic from New York to Iceland and the terms and conditions say that I can refund it for the full price, which is good because it costs 1200 Euros while my Frankfurt - Las Vegas flight only cost 200 Euros.

Once I get the e-Ticket sent, I immediately send them an email saying I'd like a refund and run down to the check-in counter once again to show my onward ticket, with less than 5% battery remaining.

I reach the front of the counter, with just over an hour left until my flight, show my ticket to the Guy at the counter, he looks up and confirms my flight details on the computer and prints me an e-Ticket telling me to RUN for the plane. As I start running, the battery on my laptop runs out and it shuts off.

By the time I pass through airport security and customs/immigration, they've already started to board the plane. I'm one of the last people on the plane and barely ten minutes pass since I'm on the plane and the doors close and the plane leaves.

I recall the story to the woman sitting next to me and she is in amazement as to how I was able to think quick on my feet in such a stressful situation. We spend the long flight talking about travels and the differences between Germany and the US.

I get the full refund eventually from the airline and realise that in future, if you are flying in to the US and they ask you for proof of an onward ticket and you don't yet have one because you're going into Canada or Mexico overland, head over to the Greyhound website, get a ticket from them (e.g. Bellingham - Vancouver $18), much less hassle than refunding an expensive plane ticket.

From Bremen to Frankfurt

2010-09-12T03:23:00Z

In Bremen, we drink and party. For the first time ever, I go tobogganing.

I try to hitchhike, but it doesn't work. The train is expensive.

Drinking with Gregor, whom I met way back in China months earlier.

Toboggan jump.

Frankfurt I find to contain a large red light district, a lot of museums, and some very lovely couchsurfers.

Donkey Travelling Around the World

2010-07-23T05:23:00Z

Several months ago, when I was in St. Petersburg, I came upon an invitation to
head to the Noviy Mariinsky Teatr (New Mariinsky Theatre) by invitation from
one of the couchsurfers I'd contacted. I took my host, Sascha, as a guest and had the great privilege of seeing the theatre and our host, a Viola player from the orchestra by the name of Liza.

After the show, the three of us headed to an Irish pub to talk about the show
and to get to know each other a little better. In the time it took to finish a
beer, Liza and I were closer friends than many people I'd known for years. We
just clicked and were able to talk for hours and hours.

The following day, I meet once more with Liza and am introduced to her lovely
daughter Tanya. The three of us start chatting and I find that Tanya is an
incredibly smart girl.

Liza and her Viola.

Since I'd started travelling, I didn't really bother with paying much
attention when I crossed the streets as cars would usually stop and let me
cross. Tanya and Liza had noticed this, Tanya had a suggestion as to why that
is. Perhaps, she said, this is because he is not from around here and so he
wields a different kind of magic to what we do. Other drivers sense the
presence of a different magic and so they leave him alone.

One of Liza's favourite movies is Amelie, a story about a girl who does good
deeds for everyone she can and decides to help her dad get over his fear of
flying by giving their garden gnome to her friend, a stewardess, to take
photos of it around the world.

In the same vein, Liza and Tanya gift me with ослик (Oslik) , a donkey salt and pepper
shaker that will protect me in my travels. When I finish my world trip and see
them once again, I can return the donkey to them. So begins the adventures of
Osslik around the World

Tanya with Oslik wrapped up.

Oslik in Tallin, Estonia.

Oslik, couchsurfing in Tartu.

In Pamukkale, Turkey.

Oslik meets his big brother in Northern Cyprus and the two party together.

Oslik relaxing on a beach in Nuweiba, Egypt.

Unfortunately though, airport security takes him away at Tel Aviv airport, despite being able to fly with him from Riga and Cyprus. They say he could have been used as a weapon.

The last time I ever saw Oslik.

Hamburg Party

2010-07-01T05:23:00Z

After a short flight out of Tel Aviv, I land in Hamburg Airport in Germany,
take a train into town and meet my friend Gregor, who made the trip out to
greet me from Bremen.

Gregor: Hey Man, what's up?
Me: I have stories to tell.
Gregor: Want to party?
Me: Sure

And so begins the partying, we head to the Reeperbahn in Sankt Pauli, the red-light district which hosts a lot of bars, head into the seediest looking one, drink a shot of something potent, head to another bar, give all of my belongings to a bartender to stash behind the bar and proceed to party the night away.

At 5AM, the first train is running to Bremen and so we quit partying, take a
train to Gregor's house and sleep the night away.

Ben Gurion Airport, Israel's Draconian Security Measures

2010-06-18T07:29:00Z

Our flights out of Israel are on a Saturday, normally not a problem, except in Israel they observe Shabbat and trains and buses don't run until sunset, all we can do is take a taxi, which we're told is 100 Shekels ($26 USD). We stop a taxi and are told that it's 100 Shekels, we offer 50, he laughs and says it's not negotiable. We just came out of Egypt and Bethlehem, EVERYTHING is negotiable. The next car pulls up, same story, he says 100 Shekels, we offer 50, he laughs, we tell him we have all day, he offers 70, we get in.

We both fly out on the same day, both to German, but on different flights to
different cities (my sister is heading to Poland, I am flying to the US).
Normally this is a non-issue, not at Ben Gurion Airport, this is a big deal.

At the airport, everyone entering has to join a queue (Security Screening
Queue #1 SSQ1) and answer a few questions from Girl with Clipboard (GwC). Eventually GwC works her way through the queue to the guys in front of me, one of them is flying, the other is not, those not flying must leave the airport and say their goodbyes now, with that she sends him outside and moves her way to Administer the Questions to myself.

GwC: Where are you flying?
Me: Germany.
GwC: Passport?
Me: *hands passport* here you go.
GwC: It says here you have recently been to Egypt.
Me: That's correct.
GwC: What was the purpose of that visit?
Me (thinking it's none of her business): Tourism.
GwC: Did you talk to anybody while in Egypt?
Me (no I was mute the entire time): Yes.
GwC: Do you have any friends in Egypt?
Me: Yes
GwC: Tell me their names.
Me (this is ridiculous): There was Ahmed, but we call him Brawy, a couple of
Muhammad's and a Zanoun.
GwC: Where do they live?
Me (how the f*ck should I know?): Egypt, somewhere between Alexandria and
Cairo.
GwC: Do you know anyone else at this airport?
Me (Glad we came to checkout early, this is going to be a long day): Yes.
GwC: Who?
Me: My sister.
GwC: Where is she?
Me: *point to sister*
GwC: Why are you not with her?
Me: We're on different flights.
GwC: Why are you not on the same flight?
Me (So we can target two planes instead of one): We are headed to different
cities.
GwC: Come with me.
* we walk to where my sister is being questioned by Girl with Hat (GwH) *
GwC: Is this her?
Me: Yes.
GwC to GwH: This man knows this woman, they are brother and sister and are
not flying together.
GwH: Why are you not flying together?
Me (they sure know how to pick the brightest girls to work in security): We're
headed to different cities, she's going to Poland, I'm going to visit a friend
and then to Frankfurt.

* GwC & GwH consult some more and seal our fates for the evening by selecting the highest threat level on their 0-9 forms and attaching them to our passports. *
We leave Security Screening Queue 1 and head to check in (a hassle free process
compared to SSQ1) receive our boarding passes and enter Security Screening
Queue 2 (SSQ2 aka we're going to go through all of your personal belongings in
public because everyone here is a terrorist until we clear them, and your
privacy doesn't mean sh*t because it's a matter of National Security).

SSQ2 has you line up with your carry on luggage in front of a large group of
tables, you head with your things to the first available table where you hand
over everything you have to another security officer who mostly ignores you as
she puts on a fresh pair of gloves, opens your bags in full view of everyone
and rummages through your things as if she's at a yard sale. She next takes a
swab of your bag and puts it into the high-tech bomb detection machine since
after all, 99.999% of passengers are terrorists until you cannot find any
traces of terrorist devices on them.

Having already admitted to making contact with Egyptians, flying out with my
sister on two flights one hour apart and not lining up together, we have been
put on the high alert status and so SSQ2 is not the easy process they would
like you to think it is.

Shortly into SSQ2, another security officer approaches me and the girl who was
looking through my posessions tells introduces me to Short Man (SM) who I am
to follow for further screening. For a brief second SM shows a puzzled
expression at my lack of enthusiasm for further invasive searches (they're for
National Security, invasive searches and lack of personal freedoms are only a
problem when you have something to hide).

We head to the security personell only section where I'm given a small area
sealed off with a privacy curtain.

SM: Remove your outer layer of clothing, shoes, socks and anything in your
pockets.
*SM tries to make small talk as I remove everything, f*ck him and his questions.SM: I'll be right back, I'm just taking your belongings for further testing.
* I stand there twiddling my thumbs, vowing to never return to this airport again *
SM *having returned*: Stand together, look at the wall and raise your arms,
I'm going to pat you down.
Me (Here I was thinking I'd leave with some dignity and privacy intact, way to
go Israel for taking that away and treating all tourists like terrorists): Ok.

After half an hour spent in the Intense Screening Process, I'm allowed to put
the rest of my clothes back on, retrieve my things, repack my bag and join yet
another security officer to be escorted past Security Screening Queues #3 and
#4 to the departure terminal with a smile and a sorry for the inconvenience.

F*ck her apologies, f*ck their thorough screening procedures which serve at
inconveniencing every passenger that's ever passed through the airport, and
f*ck them for wasting two hours of mine and my sister's time, the last time
we'll see each other for at least a year.

Fifteen minutes before boarding is called for my flight, my sister emerges
from her Invasive Security Screening Procedures for a quick hug, a chat, some
smiles and a last photo before I have to board my plane.

As I'm boarding the plane, we hit Security Screening Queue #5 (another X-Ray)
where they take one of my most sentimental posessions away (as it's a
potential weapon).

Israel, I hate your security policies, you need to find a better way of
handling security, you leave all of your guests with their worst impressions
of your country when they enter or leave your country, ensuring that the
impression lasts with them far longer than after their trip is over. For those
that think that the ends justify the means, is this the kind of life you want
to lead, where police can stop you on the side of the road and go through all
of your things without cause or justification?

A Lost Bag in Tel Aviv

2010-06-16T06:58:00Z

After the Christmas celebrations in Bethlehem, Dasha and I part ways with Lisa and Tzachy and hop on the bus to Tel Aviv.

We get off the bus and take a mini bus from the main terminal to the city and start chatting with a couple of American girls onboard about a good hostel to stay at. We get off at the same stop only to find one of them has left her pack on the bus. No big deal we tell her, Dasha has done the same thing in Turkey and Cyprus, it comes back sooner or later, we tell her.

Not in Israel she says, unattended bags are routinely detonated by the IDF as they could be bombs and they proceed to tell stories about friends leaving their backpacks for a few minutes only to have them explode. There recently was a child's backpack left unattended, the detonation crew were called out and were about to destroy the bag when a little boy ran out from the crowd and to his bag, saving his favourite stuffed toy from certain doom.

We stay with the girls while they wait for the minibus to return, they keep flagging down other vans to explain the story. Half an hour later, a young guy runs up from the other side of the street and returns the girl's backpack.

The driver had discovered a bag that was unaccounted for, one of the passengers panicked and was about to call the police when the driver remembered about the American girls that were helping the two tourists (us) and realised it was their bag. He dropped all of the passengers off at the same spot to take the next minibus, turned the car around and raced back to where he had dropped us off to return the bag.

The glee on the girls face was fun to watch, she didn't care about most of her belongings, except for this one dress that she always wore when she went out, it was her "lucky dress".

Tel Aviv Skyscraper and matching Art Piece

In Tel Aviv, we walk around, visit the beach and talk about future plans before a night out with drinks to celebrate our journey together.

Tel Aviv beaches at night.

Palestine and the Wall

2010-06-09T04:42:00Z

After the Christmas church service in Bethlehem, we party late into the night and end up missing the last bus back to Jerusalem.

Sister with apple hookah (shisha, waterpipe) and partying with African Christians out in the streets.

Bethlehem at night

We start walking back towards Jerusalem and eventually pick up a couple of companions, a pair of guys who were following us with great curiosity. We chat about life and before you know it, we've reached the West Bank Wall (that big wall that Israel builds to make it incredibly difficult for Palestinians to get around, claiming it's for the protection of Israelis).

Compared to the barren "Israel" side of the wall, the "Palestinian" side is far more alive, with varying amounts of political graffiti including that of Banksy and Pink Floyd's Roger Waters.

We arrive at the border consisting of a large gate for cars staffed by IDF soldiers, and a small caged walkway for pedestrians.

Image sourced from The People's Voice.

After entering the tunnel, we reach a large warehouse building with a series of gates, each dead bolted closed. No staff are visible, all of the doors are locked. After waiting twenty minutes, we eventually head back outside to the gate where the cars pass, where the IDF soldiers are, we tell them that the gate is locked, they tell us to leave.

We head back to the warehouse and wait, eventually one of the gates is unlocked and we head into the next room, a turn-style ensures only one person can enter at a time, a soldier sits in a booth behind bullet proof glass, takes our passports and asks us where we've been, who we've spoken with and what we're carrying. The entire process is as clinical as possible and we are grateful when we are able to leave out of the other side one hour after reaching the gate.

Christmas in Bethlehem, the Birthplace of Jesus

2010-06-04T07:56:00Z

Not even ten kilometres separate the two cities, yet they are worlds apart.
Jerusalem is under Jewish control and has a European feel to it. It's clean,
buses are new and operate on time, prices are fixed and no one is interested in
getting to know you.

Bethlehem, on the other hand is under Palestinian control, and is a city of people excited to meet you, to learn your story and to drink tea with you. The people are far
poorer than in Jerusalem (not including East Jerusalem) and yet, appear
friendlier.

We had the pleasure of visiting Bethlehem during Orthodox Christmas on the 6th of
January (Orthodox Churches use the Julian Calendar and not the Gregorian Calendar). At the time, the city was buzzing. The heads of many churches were present, the Syrian, Coptic and Ethiopian Orthodox Archbishops and the Patriarch of the Greek Orthodox Church.

Procession of Greek priests outside of the Church of Nativity, and the Patriarch of the Greek Orthodox Church inside the Church.

Ethiopian Orthodox (Left) and Coptic Orthodox (Right) services.

Birthplace of Jesus Christ.

There was a high presence of reporters during the service, my family in Moscow
had a pleasant surprise when they found my sister on the news, standing next to
a reporter.

Dasha Kruchkoff, my sister, fellow travel enthusiast and amazing writer.

When I was standing around outside, a group of Palestinian children decide to
show me around the church. They take me to the areas which are closed off for
the day, namely the Catholic part of the church and all the tombs underneath
it.

My Palestinian tour guides and the secret catacombs of the Church of Nativity.

The service goes well into the evening with partying in the streets.

Jerusalem, If I Forget You...

2010-05-12T07:30:00Z

In Jerusalem, my sister and I couchsurf with Lisa and her boyfriend Tzachy. Lisa is the sister of David, with whom I travelled through western China for three weeks. When I originally told him I was coming, he mentioned that he would probably be unavailable, travelling in Australia... I am in Israel when he is in Australia. Turns out Australia didn't want him (something about him having served in the IDF or working illegally), instead, he went to New Zealand.

Dasha and I take a tour around Jerusalem on the 5th of January, two days before Orthodox Christmas and the day before the large Christmas mass at the Church of Nativity, Bethlehem. Jerusalem is FULL during the days we visit, every hotel is booked out with Christian pilgrims converging here to tour around the holy sites prior to the church service.

The city has an amazing history, going back to 4,000 B.C. It's status as a holy site for the three major Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Islam and Judaism) have led to its hotly contested history throughout the ages.

The old city is split into four quarters - Armenian, Christian, Jewish and Muslim - and the explanation for the Armenian quarter stems from the crusades. The crusaders had managed to capture the city and one point and in order to solidify their presence in the city, they needed to populate the city with more Christians. Not wanting to make the long trip back from Israel to Northern and Western Europe, they opted instead to look at a map of the world, find the nearest Christian country (Armenia) and proceeded to bring lots of men and women over to Jerusalem to "populate it".

We found in Jerusalem that more people spoke Russian than English and inevitably, within minutes of meeting someone, conversation would stray towards the Israeli-Palestinian conflicts, with proponents of strategies at all ends of the spectrum.

The best discussion we had was with a Russian/Jewish migrant, Simon who had the appropriate amount of black humour to handle the situation. It's common in school to learn a second language, so my sister, in order to stifle discussion and promote alternate thinking would lead conversations as follows: "They teach a second language in schools here don't they? The most common language in this reason is Arabic, how well do you know it?" or something along these lines. One American Jew currently studying the Torah highlighted the major difficulty in coming to a resolution for the conflict with his response: "Why would I want to learn a terrorist language of people that do nothing other than kill our people?".

The reason I mentioned Simon was because of his response to the question: "You know, growing up, I saw the way we were fighting with the Arabs, I figured that by the time I finished school, there wouldn't be any Arabs left." and in a cliche Jewish voice he added "Boy was I wrong." His friend was initially mortified, my sister and I on the other hand burst out laughing, rather than beat the dead horse conversational thread, there are those who choose to make jokes instead.

After exploring the old town, its many present Christian denominations, the Palestinian run markets (that sell IDF T-Shirts right next to the Free Palestine ones) and the narrow city streets, we both come to the conclusion that Jerusalem offers travellers more history and culture than any other place in the world.

The following day, we head to Bethlehem...

Catholic Church at the Garden of Gethsemane and interesting house extensions in the old town.

Church of The Holy Sepulchre, where Jesus was crucified and died and the Western Wall of the Temple Mount, the holiest site for Jews.

al-Aqsa Mosque and Dome of the Rock, where the Prophet Muhammad ascended to heaven before returning to describe the meeting with god. The third holiest site for Muslims.