Travels in Yemen/Life in Abu Dhabi رحلة في اليمن الحياة في أبوظبي

Saudi Arabia: Best of the Rest

2012-01-03T06:25:00.001+03:00

In chronological order, my ten favorite pictures from Saudi Arabia that didn't make it into my other posts:

Looking Toward The Second Floor
Old Yanbu

Crumbling Traditional House

Old Yanbu

Writing on a Door

Old Yanbu

Mosque
Souq Al-Alawi, Jeddah

Child and a Mattress
Al-Balad, Old Jeddah

Child

Al-Balad, Old Jeddah

Shopping
Souq Al-Alawi, Jeddah

Shopping 2

Al-Balad, Old Jeddah

Palm Tree Shadow
Dir'aiyah, Riyadh

Masmak Fortress
Riyadh

Saudi Arabia: Eastern Province

2012-01-03T06:20:00.005+03:00

The Eastern Province of Saudi Arabia boasts the longest tradition of Western expatriates living and working in Saudi Arabia. Dammam. Khobar. Jubail. Dhahran. They're all cities in East Saudi with large expat populations and considerable histories of Western involvement.

As such, much of the Eastern Province looks like this:

refinery

Jubail

Most of the places that I had time to visit in the East were cities where people work and live, not visit. That is to say, if you're looking for sites like the Pyramids of Giza or Petra, keeping trekkin', bud. However, the East does have some incredible Bedouin villages, serene beaches, as well as the largest oasis in the entire world (Al-Hofuf, which has over three million palm trees that produce over half a million tons of dates every year.) I just didn't have time to visit them. So next time, insha'allah.

But the fact that I was in this strange bubble of Western history with a presence so divisive that in 2004, a Saudi branch of Al-Qaeda slaughtered 17 "Crusaders and Zionists" (aka Westerners) as retaliation for their presence in the oil industry in the country was interesting enough on its own.

While Dammam, Dhahran, and Khobar are distinctly separate cities, they are all less than ten kilometers apart and form a huge, sprawling metropolitan area on the Arabian Gulf. I stayed in Al-Khobar, the newest of the three cities. It's newness was, well, quite apparent:

Driving past this house, my Indian driver shook his head, clucked his tongue and said to me, "In Kerala, we spend half as much on a house as they do on those ugly walls."

As my time in the Eastern Province was limited and my schedule was unusually busy traveling back and forth to appointments between cities, I had much more occasion here to connect with the migrant labor population than the local population. Each day, I had a new driver. Each day, he was from Kerala, in South India. (The majority of Kerala's economy is supported by remittances from its migrant labor population, mostly living in the UAE and Saudi.) Each day, we bonded over the time I spent in Kerala learning kalaripayattu, an ancient martial art from the region.

a Keralite worker paints a chain at a new mall in Khobar

As is largely the case in the UAE, it's the Indians and Pakistanis who do the grunt work in terms of building the new construction projects throughout the country.

the new Al-Rashid Mall in Khobar

In some ways, as outsiders, Americans in the Eastern Province have more in common with Keralites and Pakistanis than native Saudis (just don't tell Michele Bachmann that.) Though at the same time, that would be an incredible naive thing to believe whole-heartedly, because as an American, I'm privileged enough to be enjoying the fine dining of Dammam and Khobar, two towns with famously some of the best food in the whole Kingdom. My drivers and the rest of the migrant workforce, of course, is not.

I go back to my incredible hotel, the Americans at the restaurant go back to their gated communities, and my Keralite driver just drops me off and heads back to his cramped quarters. The almost caste-like separation is obvious between the luxurious barbed-wire lined compounds and ramshackle buildings.

lobster soup and fish cake appetizer

Al-Sanbok Restaurant, Khobar

I did find some time to wander through the older sections of Dammam, mostly a maze-like concrete neighborhood with tailors, small grocery stores, and dress shops.

Next time, I'll get to the oasis. And the Bedouin markets. And, obviously, buy one of those fabulous dresses.

Saudi Arabia: Riyadh

2012-01-03T06:15:00.000+03:00

Riyadh is pretty much known for two things.

1.) Its ultra-modern, chic architecture that has popped up over the last decade

2.) Its beheadings

Let's start with that first one. ...But keep reading to here more about both (but not, like, you know, not too much about that second one.)

Now the unquestionable thriving economic and administrative center of all of Saudi Arabia, it wasn't too long ago that this city of almost four million was playing second fiddle to Jeddah. ...And it wasn't long before that that Riyadh was but a mud-brick town, a speck on the map on the trade route toward Baghdad and the sophisticated capitals of the Levant.

My how the tables have turned: Riyadh is now without a doubt one of the wealthiest cities on the face of the planet. That is evidenced alone by the plethora of large-scale construction projects undertaken in the last decade alone.

al-Faisaliah Tower, one of the most iconic buildings of the Riyadh skyline

designed by Norman Foster, built in 2000

Riyadh facing north from King Fahd St, the main north-south thoroughfare

Al-Mamlaka Tower (Kingdom Center) with constantly changing LED lights

built in 2002

a construction site, a familiar sight in Riyadh

Thank goodness for a history buff like me, Riyadh isn't just high-rises and concrete behemoths. While a place like Jeddah may have a higher volume of historic buildings, those in Riyadh are grand and well-preserved.

a gate to the Old City

al-Thumairi Gate

Masmak Fortress, a mid 19th-centry mud fortification

Unfortunately, however, accompanying some of these ancient buildings are also some ancient ways. The two pictures below were taken in Deira Square, affectionately known as "Chop Chop" because of its very real status as the site for all the public executions in a country which is one of the most frequent in the world to use capital punishment.

But Central Riyadh (Al-Bathaa) and especially its historic center at Al-Dira are also filled with some wonderful markets to, you know, help you forget that you're meters from where people get their heads chopped off. Below, one vendor tries to convince a fellow Saudi to buy an ornate tissue box cover.

Just as frequently as one will stumble upon an ancient fort, however, one will also (probably literally) stumble into a Saudi standing there on his cell phone to remind you that that fort is from a bygone era.

As it does throughout Saudi, this juxtaposition of conservative values and modernity manifests itself in interesting (and often disturbing ways) in Riyadh. Below, a female model's face is blurred out in a mall in the Olaya District (representation of the female form is a dicey matter in all of Saudi Arabia.)

In Souq Al-Tel, one of Al-Diera's markets, I had my first run in with the infamous Mutawa, or Saudi religious police (officially: The Commission for the Promotion of Virtue and Prevention of Vices.) While shopping in a dusty store scrounging for some old wooden doors, a voice echoed through the souq in Arabic, "Time for prayer, close down. Time for prayer, close down." Apparently I didn't move fast enough. As he approached, he shouted at me in broken English, "Get out the store! Prayer time!" ...And then promptly went into the adjacent store to shake hands with its owner.

(That's when I took the below picture. The mutawa is easy to spot in the picture due to his shortened thobe (robe-like dress) and unsecured ghutra (checked cloth on head [generally a double-layered black cord will sit atop, as is the case for the man on the right below.)

In the face of such conservative beliefs and ultra-modern construct, it's easy reduce Riyadh to a binary equation, a city facing a class of cultures. But Riyadh sprawls, and spread over its almost 1000 square kilometers, it's filled with Yemeni merchants, African taxi drivers, Bangladeshi laborers and living in its very different sections.

Below, a mosque in Dir'aiyah, a less populated area of Riyadh.

Dir'aiyah is probably most famous, however, as one of Saudi's two UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Set in a deep wadi amidst a vast date palm oasis, Dir'aiyah is the ancestral homeland of the Al-Saud family. Consequently, it's importance has meant an elaborate plan to maintain and preserve its historic mud buildings. Below, a crane working on some of their reconstruction is just visible in the distance.

The site, originally settled in the 15th century, is surrounded by miles of mud-brick walls.

Though I couldn't get in to see all of the site, I was heartened that the fact I wasn't able to be allowed in was because the government was working so hard on the sites upkeep and preservation. It's projected to open in about two years. I wandered around parts that I could, however; the whole site is immense.

construction work on the welcome center area

And then I ate some baby camel. A+, Riyadh.

Saudi Arabia: Jeddah

2012-01-03T06:10:00.000+03:00

If Saudi Arabia had a Las Vegas, it would probably be Jeddah.

Though let's not get crazy -- by no means does Saudi Arabia actually have a Las Vegas. But what it lacks in glitzy showgirls and legalized gambling, it makes up for with a (comparatively) liberal coastal mentality, bustling waterfront promenade, and -- gasp -- sometimes unveiled women! Careful, Reno, you've got some competition as Vegas's #2 rival.

And while Vegas may have the Wynn hotel and other gaudy landmarks, it sure as hell doesn't have a crumbling old city with houses made of coral and adorned with ornate wooden terraces.

Point 1, Jeddah.

Click below to keep reading more about Jeddah's bustling Old Town, its somewhat haram ways, and the race for the world's largest fountain.
And though Jeddah may be more liberal than its inland counterpart Riyadh or some of the smaller, conservative towns of the Asir region bordering with Yemen, it still must follow Saudi laws. Well, mostly.

Upon my arrival to Jeddah in early December after three days in Yanbu, I dropped my bags at the hotel and wandered around Medina Road, a main north-south thoroughfare in Jeddah to get my bearings. As I had commenced walking during Isha, or evening prayer, everything was closed as per Saudi law. But that sure didn't stop a huge line from forming outside of Al-Baik, the famous Saudi fried chicken chain.

Now, it's not my place to judge, but it seems to me that if you're waiting in line for some broasted chicken, you're probably not praying. I mean, I'm just sayin'. ...Though perhaps Colonel Sanders is a devil worshipper and is trying to get people to stop worshipping Jesus. In that case, Al-Baik isn't any worse than KFC.

New Jeddah has a lot of similarities to any number of coastal metropolitan cities, including a beautiful waterfront corniche (complete with dozens of elaborate sculptures from the 70's and 80's during Jeddah's revitalization -- many from well-known artists -- forming a loosely connected open-air art museum over several miles.) Some of the villas even look a little more South Beach than Saudi Arabia.

One of Jeddah's (most bizarre) claims to fame is King Fahd's Fountain, which may (or may not) be the tallest fountain in the world. While The Dubai Fountain is frequently billed as the world's largest, King Fahd's actually sprays water over 300 feet further into the air. The trade off is that the Dubai Fountain is a series of elaborately choreographed fountains timed to music. ...King Fahd's Fountain pretty much just looks like a really, really powerful burst water main. But at least you can see the crazy thing from all of the city because, well, it's shooting water almost 900 feet into the air.

And while the cosmopolitan feel and fried chicken of New Jeddah were interesting from a people watching perspective, my inner history nerd was calling out to wander around some old stuff. So I left the teeming New City behind...

...and headed south in the heart of Old Jeddah, with its history as the gateway to Mecca and a long tradition of welcoming its doors to millions of travelers on their way to the annual pilgrimage.

Along the way, I stopped at an awesome Yemeni restaurant and filled up on my familiar mainstays of bayd (scrambled egg with onions and green peppers) and fasoolia (white bean paste seasoned with celery.)

And then, it was time to marvel at the old coral houses and their exquisite architecture:

Many of them look like Jenga towers ready to tip at any moment.

But their level of detail is downright exquisite.

As is the feeling of walking through a neighborhood with such history which is still being used dynamically today as both a residential and commercial hub.

...And play area.

Besides for the coral houses, also snaking through Al-Balad -- the oldest part of Jeddah -- is a vast network of shops, markets, and stalls comprising the huge Souq Al-Alawi. From orange carts and nuts stores to prayer bead shops and cell phone hustlers, Souq Al-Alawi heaves with people, sales, and material things.

lettuce vendor on his cellphone

men selling siwak (singular: miswak) a twig used for millenia in the region for oral hygiene

Al-Balad and Souq Al-Alawi were where I spent all of my free time, wandering among the pilgrims shopping in Jeddah's famous souqs as they've done for centuries. That is, when we all weren't being lured by the smell of fried chicken Al-Baik in New Jeddah...

Saudi Arabia: Yanbu

2012-01-03T06:05:00.000+03:00

This is Yanbu, an ancient port town on the coast of the Red Sea with beautiful, majestic traditional houses and a history dating back almost 3000 years.

Keeping reading to see more of this fantastic city.

But this is also Yanbu.

And nowadays, mostly, this is Yanbu.

Up until about 35 years ago, Yanbu al-Bahr was a sleepy fishing town a little more than halfway up the western coast of Saudi Arabia. That all changed when the government designated Yanbu -- along with its sister sister Jubail on Saudi Arabia's eastern coast -- as the main new industrial center of the country. (It's status as a viable port didn't hurt either.)

Today, Yanbu al-Sina'iya, Industrial Yanbu, stretches south from the old port city and is comprised of huge refineries, petrochemical plants, petroleum shipping terminals, a plastics factory, and -- as evidenced by the second picture -- sprawling modern houses called villas with high concrete privacy fences. Its main residential area, the Royal Commission, is a neat grid with beautiful green spaces, public parks, and all the latest modern facilities.

Saudi Arabia was so wealthy that they decided to turn a dusty town into a thriving industrial epicenter for the entire country. And so it was done.

And since most people only visit Yanbu on business trip because of industry and oils, luxury and Yanbu al-Sina'iya are all they get to see. And if I had wanted, I wouldn't have had to venture out of this bubble of constructed modernity either -- almost all of Yanbu's (incredible) hotels are within or near to the Royal Commission.

my infinity pool overlooking the Red Sea

Moevenpick, Yanbu

a $60 dinner of perfectly grilled fish

Yanbu al-Sina'iya

But I wanted to see more. So I hopped into a taxi with a chortling Pakistani guy named Adil and made my way toward al-Balad, the older downtown of Yanbu. There, I replaced the previous day's $60 dinner of grilled fish with something a little more fitting for the setting of a fading and crumbling village:

a $4 dinner of perfectly fried fish

Yanbu al-Balad

While eating, I was locked inside the restaurant during prayer time. While this may sound strange, it was better than the alternative of being kicked out. See, dinner -- and all activities -- most be carefully planned in Saudi Arabia. The strictly conservative government requires that all businesses close for approximately a half hour each day during prayer. And since prayers are mandatory five times a day, this often leaves very limited windows of time to get things done.

I had tried to time my arrival at the restaurant between Maghrib and Isha prayers, giving my about an hour window to eat. But I arrived a bit late. Luckily, the restaurant had a less conservative policy of letting me stay and eat. ...It just meant that I was the only one inside, the doors were locked, and everyone else went to pray.

At least the fish was delicious.

another restaurant in the Old City across from the port
Yanbu al-Balad

The next day, I came back early in the morning and strategically planned my wanderings around Yanbu al-Balad for when most residents would be in mosque for Friday prayer.

grocery store

Yanbu al-Balad

residential building with intricate traditional woodwork

Yanbu al-Balad

But I saved most of my morning for wandering around the al-Sour district of Yanbu, the oldest section forming the core of downtown. Here, a ghost town of delicate wood lattices and crumbling mud and brick buildings stands defiantly next to the impeding concrete of the rest of Yanbu.

I had the entire historic ghost town to myself. It was, without a doubt, one of the most impressive places I have ever had the opportunity to visit.

And the history was palpable -- Lawrence of Arabia had even lived in one of these traditional Arabian houses.

Most, however, were crumbling to the ground. There were no signs or historical placards inviting me to wander the ruins. ...But there weren't any guards stopping my either. So I snuck in and out of the dilapidated buildings, marveling at how each was more detailed and remarkable than the next.

Some were labyrinthian, with four stories of vast mazes of rooms, closets, and animal storage.

And all had incredible texture and color.

I ventured further into the crumbling town.

Unfortunately, little is being done in terms of preservation. The Saudi Commission for Tourism and Antiquities had one sign up on one building. Most of the others had some amount of trash and a huge amount of decay, as they are frequently used as dumping grounds by those living close by in more modern accommodations.

It's a beautiful and historic town threatened by modernity, lack of awareness, and a seemingly ambivalent government. But for one glorious morning in late November, Old Yanbu was all mine. I just hope that it doesn't all crumble to the ground before others get to have a similar experience.

An article on Old Yanbu and the very real threat of it all falling apart before it's saved.

Saudi Arabia

2012-01-03T06:00:00.003+03:00

I have to admit, I've become a little spoiled when I travel. Etihad Airways -- rated the world's best airline three years in a row -- does a great job of following through on its promises of hospitality, luxury, and attention to detail. From 15 hour flights halfway across the world to short jaunts throughout the Middle East, I've continually been impressed with the amenability of Etihad.

The truth is, I've become accustomed to kicking back, cocktail in hand, not a care in the world when I fly. So when I boarded an airplane in late November bound for Jeddah and was handed an alcohol-free drinks list and customs card warning me of death, it definitely made me realize that I wasn't flying to, you know, Cabo or something.

WARNING: DEATH FOR DRUG TRAFFICKER.

Welcome to Saudi Arabia.

It's a place I've wanted to visit since seeing Aladdin as a kid (thanks a lot for instilling sweeping cultural stereotypes in my impressionable childhood psyche, Disney.) So when I scored an assignment to travel the country for over two weeks for work -- an incredible opportunity -- I was thrilled. But going around saying, "I'm so excited to go to Saudi Arabia!!" one isn't generally met with looks or statements of envy. Upon successfully receiving my visa, one of the most notoriously difficult passport stamps to obtain in the world, I was over the moon. But everyone around me was, like, "Isn't that where they kill people?" "Be careful!" or some other iteration of concern, disgust, or downright bewilderment.

And make no mistake, Saudi Arabia is one of the most closed-off, conservative, and judicially harsh places in the world. (The first thing that pops up on YouTube's predictive search after Saudi Arabia is "punishment cut head.")

Praise be to God, Lord of All Existence

government-installed road sign

Highway 5 North between Jeddah and Yanbu

But a country of over thirty million -- with two of the most religiously important sites in the entire world and a history stretching almost as far back as the cradle of civilization -- deserves to be studied. To be visited. To be understood.

road sign: Medina, Mecca ahead

Yanbu al-Bahr, Saudi Arabia

And though plenty of cynical (and generally ignorant) voices will mention a nouveau riche civilization devoid of nuance, identity, or history, I was ready to spend my next two weeks exploring Saudi Arabia. Uncovering its hidden beauty. Delving into its culture.

refinery near the Red Sea coast

Rabigh, Saudi Arabia

Below a map of my itinerary:

Abu Dhabi to Jeddah

3 days in Yanbu (arrive in car from Jeddah airport)

3 days in Jeddah (arrive in car from Yanbu)

5 days in Riyadh (arrive by plane from Jeddah)

4 days in Khobar while also visiting Dammam, Dhahran, and Jubail (arrive in car from Riyadh)

Dammam to Abu Dhabi

Jordan: Best of the Rest

2011-12-19T17:00:00.000+03:00

In chronological order, my fifteen favorite pictures from Jordan that didn't make it into my other posts:

Tree near El-Dier,

Petra

Sheep,
Petra

Mosque,
Aqaba

Camels near Lawrence's Spring,
Wadi Rum

Red Sands,
Wadi Rum

Shobak Castle

Salah al-din al-Ayyubi Street,
from Karak Castle

Mosque,
Madaba

Dead Sea

Church,
Bethany-on-the-Jordan

Hippodrome and Flag,
Jerash

Pillar,
Jerash

Boys Selling Tissues on Cardio Maximus,
Jerash

Children's Drawings,
Amman

Cat Atop the Citadel,
Amman

Jordan: Amman

2011-12-19T16:45:00.000+03:00

A city of a quarter million, Amman is often passed over when discussing the most fascinating capitals of the Arab world. It lacks the historical structures of Cairo but also lacks the gleaming and exciting progress of Dubai. It lacks the exoticism of Sana'a. It has too much bustle to match the quaintness of Old Damascus.

I think it parallels Muscat: misunderstood, written off as "too Western" by those looking for performed ancient Arab authenticity, but perhaps still too chaotic to be fully accessible without some prior experience in the Arab world.

Above, Hashemi Street, a main thoroughfare in downtown old Amman.

Like many of the Gulf cities, Amman is largely a modern creation having been mostly constructed in the last 60 years. That being said, it's not entirely devoid of history. You don't see too many ancient Roman theaters like this around Doha or Manama:

The walk up through downtown to reach the Citadel, the ancient walls of the Old City, mean passing through crumbling neighborhoods largely built in the mid-century which are now derelict:

But they have their own faded charms:

And to finally reach the Citadel, three thousand years old with a vantage point from Jebel al-Qala'a overlooking literally tens of thousands of structures, is a remarkable feeling:

And the Umayyad Palace! From my favorite time period in Islamic history, the palace was built in the 8th century in the first generations after Mohammed and feature the Umayyad's distinct architectural stylings.

We may not have had too much time to explore Amman's nuances -- it's European boutique restaurants, it's ancient structures hidden in the back alleyways, it's world-class museums, but that just means I'll have to return. To Amman. Return to Jordan. Return to see it all again and explore further into the depths of this beautiful country.

Jordan: Jerash

2011-12-19T16:35:00.000+03:00

Some people are just photogenic.

I am not one of them.

I'm either fake smiling, not smiling enough, half-opening my eyes, or scrunching up my face into some inexplicable display of anger, confusion, awkwardness, or some combination of all three.

Jerash is, like, the anti-me. Despite all of my photographic ignorance, it is the perhaps the most photogenic place I have ever visited. Whether is was the a combination of the perfectly blue sky, wispy clouds, and ancient history or something else, the stunning ruins at Jerash refused to take a bad picture.

And for that -- as well as the incredible access to Roman history they provided -- I am quite thankful.

The Pompeii of Asia, the Roman ruins of Jerash are incredibly well-preseved. Nearly fifty feet high, Hadrian's Arch -- the entry into ancient Jerash -- provides a literal window into a different world:

The nearby hippodrome -- which once housed seating for over 15,000 for chariot races -- is even more imposing:

But one of the most impressive aspects of Jerash is the unusually expansive forum, almost 300 feet at its widest:

Though the nearby theater isn't anything to sneeze at, either:

My favorite construction in Jerash, however, was the Cardio Maximus, Jerash's version of Main Street which was lined with ornate pillars:

Pillars are a constant presence throughout the main thoroughfares and side streets of Jerash. Over 500 of them lined the Cardio Maximus alone:

Throughout all of the photogenic pillars, ancient baths, theaters, gates, and temples abound:

Jordan: The River and Bethany

2011-12-19T16:30:00.000+03:00

The River Jordan.

It's a name that sticks in one's head after years of church, Bible study, or even just listening to gospel music. Jacob, Elijah, multiple miracles, John, and -- of course -- the baptism of Jesus are all a part of the narrative of the Jordan River. (You sound way more Old Testament by calling it "The River Jordan.)

We visited Bethany-on-the-Jordan, the historic site of Jesus' baptism, many of John's sermons, and Elijah's ascent to Heaven.

There wasn't any walking on water but the history, environmental issues, and interplay between Jordan and Israel was fascinating enough without any Biblical miracles. (Though I could have used somebody turning water into wine.)

Even for someone who isn't a religious zealot or even a firm believer in organized religion, to walk in the same place as a prophet for two of the three Abrahamic religions as well as countless Old Testament figures is a humbling experience. The history is immediately present, including locations where John performed baptisms (such as Jesus'), 5th century pilgrims' chapels, and the remains of ancient monasteries:

But for all of the ancient history, the presence of the modern day looms. An ancient river associated with divine acts and Biblical figures brings to mind a mighty, forceful current and heavenly blue water. In reality, today it is but a peaceful (and sometimes stagnant) stream and, unfortunately, like all water sources in the area, it is threatened by human development regardless of its ancient importance.

Environmental factors aren't the only modern day encumbrances. Israel is literally feet away. This small section of Bethany-on-the-Jordan is the only part of the historic 150-mile river that is open to the public. Due to its proximity with the disputed border and the tense situation between the two parties, the rest of the Jordan River is only able to be accessed by military personal.

To stand mere feet away from a rival Israeli site -- with the Jewish Star of David flag waving no less -- is surreal. Below, looking over at Israel:

Jesus loved barbed wire, apparently. And nothing says thoughtful prayer and meditation like the presence of AK-47s and armed guards of two different nationalities looking down on you:

This site wasn't even able to be properly investigated or identified until the 90's, when the land mines were able to be dismantled. Hence the newness of the surrounding church:

The history of Bethany and the River Jordan were incredible but the baffling tenseness between Israel and Jordan...perhaps even more so.

Jordan: Dead Sea

2011-12-19T16:25:00.000+03:00

The lowest place on earth.

Salinity over 30%.

Nine times saltier than than ocean.

These are some of the Dead Sea's claims to fame. But the unique nature of this harsh, barren, but beautiful environment is in grave danger.

Due to a plethora of contributing factors including human development, water consumption, global warming, as well as salt mining from both Israel and Jordan, the Dead Sea's waters have fallen about 30 meters.

The lowest place on the earth just keeps getting lower.

One of those contributing factors is the luxury resorts that have been built on both the Israeli and Jordanian sides. Though a sea of extreme saltiness (to the point of getting any water in your eyes or mouth causing absolute agony) does not seem like a natural place for a posh resort, the medicinal properties of the salt and minerals of the Dead Sea are a huge draw. German insurance even covers psoriasis patients to visit on occasion.

That white stuff below isn't pollution. It isn't foam. And it certainly isn't ice.

It's just salt. And its minerals work wonders.

We, of course, decided to go to the public beach instead of shell out $200 bucks to stay at a luxury resort and destroy the environment. Hopefully more people will start doing the same.

You can cake yourself with the same mud while not having to pay a ridiculous amount of money and hurt Planet Earth while doing it.

Jordan: King's Highway

2011-12-19T16:15:00.000+03:00

The King's Highway sound like some sort of elite causeway traversed only by the royal and well-to-do. In reality, however, the King's Highway has been a source of transportation for three millennia for common traders, pilgrims of each Abrahamic religion, European Crusaders, and ancient Nabateans.

And though today it's a relatively easy to traverse continuous slab of concrete through the center of Jordan, the history on either side is still there: ancient castles, pilgrimage sites, and important trading stopovers. We visited four sites along the King's Highway -- the ancient Crusader castles of Shobak and Karak, the great Wadi Mujib canyon, and the historic Christian town of Madaba.

Let's drive.

Shobak

Being a conscientious driver amidst all of the aggressive driving and winding roads of the King's Highway should always be at the forefront of one's mind. ...More-so, of course, when you have two Jordanian police officers in your backseat.

I only lingered at the police checkpoint to confirm that I was heading in the right direction.

shobak hakatha? 'Is Shobak that way?' I asked while pointing left.

A guard, slightly bored, nodded lazily in the affirmative. As I was rolling up my window, two bigger men poked their heads out from the little office behind Lazy Officer.

You're going to Shobak? they asked in Arabic. They were already grabbing their bags without even waiting for my response. I knew where this was going.

I wasn't necessarily opposed to driving two police officers 50 kilometers up the King's Highway -- they seemed nice enough -- but I had been blaring Christmas music and eating pistachios, so I definitely needed to adjust to my best Drivers' Ed. style of driving for my own anxiety, even if it didn't matter to them. We talked about the ridiculousness of speed bumps, the infiltration of British city planning, and the likelihood of Yemen's president staying in power.

50 kilometers later, we dropped them off at the foot of the castle and wound our way up to Shobak's castle. And they even complimented me on my driving. (On the way up to the castle, Mariah Carey's Christmas album went right back on, of course.)

Shobak castle was built almost a millennium ago by the Crusaders. Its age is, well, apparent. However, its many details -- including a baptistry and prison, were still apparent.

What makes Shobak most fascinating to me despite the crumbliness, however, is the fact that parts of it were rebuilt by the Mamluks in the 14th century, adding a whole separate period of architectural and cultural history.

The surrounding area is just as stunning as the castle.

Karak

Karak is much more complete than its sister Crusader castle, Shobak. Built at about the same time as Shobak, it contains much of the same history and features as Shobak -- a wide outcropping, detailed stonework, beautiful archways.

For a history geek, to be walking in the same place as the historic battles of the Crusasers and Salah ad-Din was pretty badass.)

Unlike, Shobak, however, Karak is surrounded by a town, and a beautiful, ancient one at that.

Wadi Mujib

Later on along the King's Highway, the road gives way to the Grand Canyon of Jordan: Wadi Mujib.

History says that Moses walked here. I'm glad I was in a car however--it's a kilometer deep and four kilometer wide. It probably took us almost as long as ol' Moses, however--because of the sharp descent, it takes the King's Highway just under 20 kilometers of switchbacks to make its way up the canyon.

Madaba

We spent the night in Madaba, a heavily Christian town known for its elaborate Byzantine mosaics.

The conversation between Christian and Islam was apparent even at sunrise. We visited on Friday when the Imam's calls bleed into the Orthodox Christian chuchbells, all punctuated by kids shouting excitedly.

We wandered through the peaceful old side streets and made our way to the archeological park which houses dozens of ancient mosaics, including one dates to 1 BC, thought to be the oldest in the country.

Most stunning, however, is the mosaic at St. George's. We arrived when services were still in progress.

Though the church itself dates only the 19th century, the carpet laid down during service pictured above hides one of the most incredible marvels in Jordanian history, a 1500 year old Greek mosaic map found during the building process with captions and positions for all of the major Biblical sites throughout the Levant.

Yeah, so -- you know -- the King's Highway has a little history or something.

Jordan: Wadi Rum

2011-12-19T16:10:00.000+03:00

Before I studied the Middle East, I thought a desert was just a desert.

Boy, was I wrong.

A desert is just a desert only insofar as a piece of cheese is a piece of cheese or a glass a wine is a glass of wine. I'm no desert connoisseur (I'm maybe a dessert connoisseur, but that's a different story) but I have certainly learned to appreciate the differences -- both substantial and subtle -- between the deserts I have visited in places as wide-ranging as Morocco and Oman. The texture, the weather, the colors, the ecosystem--they can be so remarkably diverse.

Take Wadi Rum.

Simply incredible.

Jordan -- first the Royal Society for the Conversation of Nature and now the Aqaba Special Economic Zone Authority -- has tried to do its best in the mammoth effort to preserve this unique and fragile ecosystem. As part of the mandate, travel throughout the Wadi Rum Protected Area is strictly controlled and confined to authorized guides, often Bedouin whose families may have lived in the area for generations.

We stayed with an awesome group called Jordantracks and were led around in a 4x4 by an equally awesome guy, Mohammad:

The size of Wadi Rum -- Jordan's largest valley -- boggles the mind (it stretches over 100 kilometers.) Throughout, there are unique rock formations, mountain ranges, and ancient ruins particularly from the Nabateans:

We did a little rock scrambling (that is rock climbing over rocks that don't require you to have gear/worry about breaking your face) and hiking, though I was just as content to sit and stare across the wadi from different vantage points:

The lightening and darkening of the sky became the focus of the day's events. The remarkable sunset, appearance of the moon, and sunrise were even better than, like, YouTube:

At night, we stayed in our Bedouin tent sheltered from the harsh November cold by a huge rock outcropping:

Wadi Rum. Not just any desert.

(Obviously, I should work in advertising for the Jordanian government.)

Jordan: Aqaba

2011-12-19T16:05:00.002+03:00

Lemme tell you: after being covered in dust from trekking for a full day through red sand at Petra (and driving six hours through the desert as well,)

catching sight of the Red Sea out in the distance is pretty much as awesome as stumbling across the Garden of Eden:

We could have spent time in Aqaba, a bustling city of 100,000.
We could have marveled at nearby Israel, just mere kilometers away.
We could have spent time strolling the Corniche, watching the huge shipping freighters navigate the port:

But we didn't do much of that.

Mostly, we sat on the beach. And didn't feel guilty about it for a second.

About ten kilometers south of Aqaba, the beaches are beautiful, pristine, and--well--pretty much perfect. We spent our afternoon snorkeling at the Royal Diving Club and exploring its incredible coral.

After a day in the desert, we deserved this.

I'd show more pictures but, really, I was too busy laying in the water and drinking Arak to bother.

Jordan: Petra

2011-12-19T16:00:00.000+03:00

Whether or not the name "Petra" resonates with people, chances are, they've seen its iconic images.

Amidst the rugged terrain of craggy rocks and endless desert, an ancient city carved over three thousand years ago right from its pink-hued sandstone cliffs:

With over 500 tombs and 800 sites cut into the vast site stretching some 30 square kilometers, the sheer size and majesty of Petra has allowed for its inclusion in everything from UNESCO World Heritages Sites and the 7 New Wonders of the World to Indiana Jones and Transformers movies.

Lost to the outside world for hundreds of years until 1812, it's now as iconic as the Pyramids of Giza and Great Wall of China and has been listed along with just a handful of other sites as one of the places people need to see before they die by MSN, BBC, and the Smithsonian.

So come check it out.

Fortunately, all of Petra is off limits to any type of building or development, meaning to walk amongst the ancient city is to step backward in time thousands of years. However, this also means that in the span of twenty years, the nearby former Bedouin village of Wadi Musa has expanded into a bustling town of nearly 20,000 that now relies almost entirely on tourism. In a place as volatile as the Middle East -- even for comparatively peaceful Jordan -- this can be a harsh reality.

After Jordan was added to UNESCO and was the setting for the climax of the third installment of Indian Jones in the late 80's, Petra truly entered the world's consciousness. Wadi Musa, formerly a tiny town, now heaved with modernity and infrastructure. Then: September 11th. Wadi Musa and Jordanian tourism struggled to completely recover. Today, Wadi Musa is working to build less and improve services more. Though, despite its rapid expansion, Wadi Musa still has its charms. At night, the lights from town stretch into the nearby hills, twinkling:

After a three hour drive south from Queen Alia International Airport outside of Amman, we arrived to Wadi Musa just as a purple-blackness settled into the night sky. We made it just in time for 'Petra by Night,' one of the most magical and visually affecting events a history geek like me could ask for.

To include blurry and too-dark pictures would only cheapen the experience. So, imagine: a completely silent walk through the desert -- the night lit only by stars and the way lit only by two rows of butter lamps. Then, a walk through a one kilometer long canyon often no wider than a few feet, with sharp rocks extending above sometimes 600 feet into the air, allowing just the faintest starlight to illuminate the surrounding pinkish hues. Finally, the narrow canyon opens into a majestic expanse. Ahead, the Treasury, the elaborate structure pictured above stretching 150 feet into the air, carved into the stone, and lit with hundred of butter lamps.

Below is the only picture I will include. The lamps, an inky sky, and the faintest of outlines of the treasury in the night:

Perfection.

Below is a picture of the Siq (just imagine it at night):

It's difficult to explain how affecting the trek is. Walking across slippery rocks next to massive canyon walls for twenty minutes, only to be finally greeted by the imagine of the Treasury:

Once out of the Siq and into Petra proper, the incredibleness of the site is -- if possible -- only magnified. Now, in all directions, hundreds of elaborate tombs stretching as far as the eye can see:

Even without the tombs, the setting is stunning:

But eventually, you must dive in to Petra and start tackling its vastness. In each direction, endless possible treks through crevasses and over rock expanses leading to untold wonders and views, like this: an ancient high place of sacrifice for the Nabateans with views over the Royal Tombs hundreds of feet below--

To get close to the tombs, and finally enter them only heightens the awe of the whole experience. The details of the carving and the colors in the rock are almost beyond comprehension:

And besides for the tombs, the vastness of the site provides its only adventures, like rock scrambling:

and getting a bit lost, like how we ended up above the ancient theater with what at first seemed like no possible way down (we eventually made it, but only by backtracking):

After an entire day of hiking miles through the desert, we still had one more place we wanted to visit: The Monastery (Al-Dier.) Just looking at the picture, it seems to resemble the Treasury:

But the wonder of The Monastery is augmented by many features (not least of which is the one hour vertical hike across no less than 800 steps to reach the site.) It's also incredibly wider than the Treasury:

And is the site for one of the most incredible sunsets I have ever been fortunate enough to view:

Petra, one of the Seven Wonders of the World?

Um, that's a no brainer.

Jordan

2011-12-19T15:31:00.004+03:00

Less than 48 hours after wandering through millennium-old monasteries dotting the snowcapped mountains of Armenia, I was watching the sun purple the sky above the Desert Highway on the way to three millennia old ruins in Southern Jordan.

Needless to say, it was a hell of an Eid break.

And while Petra stands out as one of the most impressive sites I have ever had the privilege of witnessing, Jordan was so much more. Much like poor ol' Oman -- where people so often seem keen to just visit the capital, Muscat -- Jordan as a destination unfortunately gets boiled down just to Petra. And while the ancient Nabatean ruins offer an endless array of possibilities, Jordan itself is so eclectic: cosmopolitan cities, remote desert castles, pristine nature reserves, two disparate but equally fascinating seas, a plethora of Abrahamic history, vast Roman ruins, lush valleys, unique desert ecosystems, and endless examples of Islamic and Christian cultures coming into conversation with one another.

The swath of Jordan we covered in just under a week, traversing parts of the main three thoroughfares of Jordan -- the Desert Highway; the Dead Sea Highway; and the ancient trade route, King's Highway:

1 Petra
2 Aqaba
3 Wadi Rum
4 Shobak
5 Karak
6 Madaba
7 Dead Sea
8 Bethany on the Jordan
9 Jerash
10 Amman

Armenia: Best of the Rest

2011-12-11T04:00:00.001+03:00

My ten favorite pictures from around Armenia that didn't make it into my other posts:

Dogs,
Tsitsernakaberd Hill, Yerevan

Gas Station,
outside Sevan

Seminary,
Sevan

Mayr Tachar,
Echmiadzin

Surp Astvatsatsin Church,
Khor Virap

Shrubs with prayer fabric,
Khor Virap

Avan Gorge,
Garni

Candles,
Geghard Monastery

Door,
Geghard Monastery

Blue Mosque,
Yerevan

Armenia: Food

2011-12-11T03:50:00.001+03:00

While working in a restaurant four years ago, I overheard two people talking about their bottled water brand preferences. It was one of the most pretentious conversations I've ever heard. At one point, one guy actually said, "Well, you know, Voss will do. But only a pinch."

I wanted to grab the 300 dollars bottle of wine that I was serving them and smash it over his head. I get it, some waters taste a little difference. But different enough to carry on a full-length dinner table conversation about which one is better? So upon hearing that Armenia has a huge array of different high-quality water brands, I laughed it off.

I, however, must admit that after traveling there, I am now one of those obnoxious, pretentious people with water brand preferences. Jermuk Water changed everything. I pretty much want to be in an infomercial about it. ...And that's even after finding out that it might have an unsafe amount of arsenic in it.

Oops.

Jermuk is basically the Cadillac of water. It has this hint of a sparkle and a subtle saltiness that makes you feel like you're drinking a spa or something. It was only later after I became obsessed with Jermuk that I found out that it's no longer sold in America because of its high arsenic levels. The Armenian community in California, especially, was outraged. Read all about it in the LA Times here. An excerpt:

For generations, bottled mineral water from the town of Jermuk has been a kind of national tonic in Armenia, proudly sipped like a fine chardonnay in California or taken for its perceived medicinal value, like chicken soup. As the Armenian population here has grown, demand for the water has grown with it.

So when the FDA warned Americans last month to stop drinking five brands of imported Jermuk water because of unsafe levels of arsenic, the action touched off more than a mere product recall for local distributors. It was seen by many as an insult to Armenians, stirring passions from the ethnic enclaves of Glendale and North Hollywood all the way to the mountain resort in the West Asian country that supplies the bubbly water.

I say: whatever. It's damn delicious. I'll take my chances.

A few other images of delicious food from across Armenia:

And, of course, the most authentic of all, the traditional Armenian airport brownie, the Cookie Monster.

Armenia: Geghard

2011-12-11T03:00:00.008+03:00

At least in my mind, monasteries carry a connotation of peacefulness, spiritual tranquility, and reflection.

However, when you're about to step foot into a monastery that's named after the holy lance that pierced Jesus' side during the crucifixion, all bets are off.

Geghard Monastery was built about 1700 years ago but some of the main buildings like Surp Astvatsatsin below, however, date to closer around the 13th century.

(To stand in a place with structure after structure date to almost a millennium ago as a citizen of a country where almost nothing is older than 200 years is a remarkable thing.)

But what's perhaps most remarkable about Geghard lies beyond, deeper into the canyon: ancient cave churches, monastic cells, burial chambers, and chapels carved right out of the mountain.

In this particular chapel, the ghostly sounds of chanting monks echoed against the stone walls, ripping through a basin of spring water legendary for its youthful properties.

For each of the chambers, candles alone lit the way.

Further outside, an active sacrifice site juts up against a trickling stream. Like Khor Virap, strips of fabric are tied to the nearby trees and bushes in hopes of making prayers and wishes come true.

The haunting and eerily magic quality of Geghard alone is enough to think that those prayers, wishes, and -- just maybe -- perhaps anything here could be possible.

Armenia: Garni

2011-12-11T02:30:00.000+03:00

Garni Temple is like a little slice of Rome just chillin' in the middle of Armenia.

...Except instead of spaghetti and pizza, you can have a glass of Armenian cognac and sit in the middle of a giant UNESCO World Heritage Site gorge.

Yeah, that's my kind of Rome.

The location -- a vast gorge that cuts through the countryside with the help of the mighty Azat River -- may have something to do with the long history of the site. Even before the temple was constructed in the 1st century, there is evidence of inhabitation going back almost another millennium. The severity of the valley along with the mountains probably played a role in it being such a rockstar site to live and, like, not get attacked by other people.

The temple is marvelous and was dedicated to the Roman god of the sun. Though the wind was whipping hard against our faces in lieu of any of that Roman sunshine, it was still a site to behold both in terms of nature and architecture.

For me, one of the most fascinating aspects of Garni was walking amongst the incredible khaachkars found amongst the site.

But who cares about awesome ancient history, right? Let's focus on the present: Could I perhaps have jumped the gorge?

Armenia: Khor Virap

2011-12-11T02:00:00.000+03:00

To be able to hang out at a 17th century monastery in Armenia is awesome.

To be able to hang out at a 17th century monastery in Armenia at the foot of the iconic Mt. Ararat Mountain with sweeping views of Eastern Turkey, however, is, um...even awesomer?

...Oh, and Armenia's patron saint was locked in said monastery's well for twelve years.

That's the awesome-est.

The stories, traditions, and mythology surrounding Khor Virap could fill their own book. Kicking things off, before Khor Virap was even a monastery, St. Gregory the Illuminator was imprisoned in a well here for over a decade and kept alive by Christian women who secretly fed him. Or so the legend goes. It was after his release (and after curing his captor of madness) that Gregory then became the founder of the Armenian Apostolic Church and started building churches all over the country -- including Echmiadzin.

Because of the intensely important history surrounding this site, plenty of legends and superstitions surround it as well. On the weekend, the place is visited almost continuously for baptisms and by giant Armenian wedding parties looking to sacrifice a chicken or sheep as a wedding ritual. In the picture below, one particularly rowdy wedding party was taking pictures in front of the church.

Below, a long train of cars in a wedding party announces its arrival by honking loudly as they twist through the surrounding countryside on their way to Khor Virap.

Another belief/superstition is that wishing or praying while tying a piece of fabric to the shrubs surrounding the monastery will make that wish come true.

The original monastery itself was built around the 6th century, so people have been visiting this site for its historical importance for quite some time. You can even climb 60 meters down into the well where Gregory was kept (the pictures don't turn out to well, though, cuz -- you know -- you're in a well.)

The setting is, quite simply, stunning. As far as the eye can see pastures and vineyards stretch off into the distance, including into nearby Turkey which is a mere few hundred meters away.

Without question, Khor Virap was one of the most visually stunning places I've ever visited. Thanks, Gregory, for, hangin' in their down in that well and whatnot.

Armenia: Zvartnots

2011-12-11T01:00:00.000+03:00

Along with Echmiadzin, the magnificent ruins at Zvarnots Cathedral -- 4 kilometers to the east -- make up not only a stellar UNESCO World Heritage Site but also a complex of some truly unique ancient architecture.

Have I mentioned that I love ruins? I have? Multiple times, you say? Well then let's get started.

Zvartnots was built about 1500 years ago to house some of the important relics from St. Gregory and his establishment of the Armenian Apostolic Church. Now, it's pretty much just a bunch of pillars.

But at least they're really badass pillars.

After only about 300 years in existence, a sizable earthquake probably destroyed the church complex in the 10th century. There are some models floating around Armenia today of what the church may have possibly looked like but most have proven extremely divisive with historians, including the model housed in the Museum of Armenian History.

So while the finer details of the church are disagreed upon by most, it's generally accepted that Zvartnots was incredibly unique in its construction.

We spent most of our late morning just wandering through the ornately carved stone ruins littered throughout the orchard. Ruins and changing leaves: not a bad way to spend a few hours, I'd say.

Armenia: Echmiadzin

2011-12-11T00:45:00.001+03:00

Echmiadzin is not only the ancient capital of the Armenia but it's also the place where St. Gregory the Illuminator, the patron saint of the country, saw a ray of light in a religious vision. In short, it's basically Armenia's Vatican and has, you know, a little bit of cultural importance dating back almost two millennia. Or something.

More important than patrons saints and important religious events, though, is that Echmiadzin has lots of adorable church bells. So, I mean, that's reason enough to keep reading.

The Mother Church of Armenia, Mayr Tachar, was built in the mid 17th century, but it stands on the same site as the original church built by Ol' Greg-o after his vision of lights almost 2,000 years ago. Much of that history is still present, including a wealth of historic objects in the ground's treasury including the ancient holy lance used to stab Jesus in the side when he was traveling to Calvary as well as a carving of the crucifixion which was supposedly fashioned by John. Now that's something you could make bank with on eBay.

Located about 20 kilometers west of Yerevan, Echmiadzin --also known as Vagharshapat -- stands on some mighty picturesque grounds. (As you can see by my wanna-be artsy nature pictures below.)

However, it's not just pretty flowers and ancient relics used to pierce our Lord and Savior. Echmiadzin also has a whole complex of historic religious building dating back a few hundred years and more.

Check out this awesome archway leading to the Palace of the Catholicos built over 1600 years ago.

Echmiadzin is so significant that Pope John Paul II visited in 2001 (he also gave mass here next to the place where St. Gregory saw his bolt of lightening.) This is the monument that was built in honor of his arrival. I want that guy's cloak.

The sites at Echmiadzin extend out a considerable way from the immediate area around Mayr Tachar as well. Below is a 17th century church Surp Gayane that has a long story around its history involving 32 maidens. I'll tell you it over a beer sometime.

I've never been to the Vatican but now I can at least say that the Pope and I have walked through the same archway. No one has built me my own archway or monument of course (yet) but I can take solace in the fact that, while the Pope probably had to walk along all somber-like and whatnot while visiting an ancient religious site, I got to chase after these birds like a 6 year-old.

Armenia: Dilijan

2011-12-09T10:15:00.000+03:00

As the sun started to fall behind the surrounding mountains, we carried on, snaking northwest along Lake Sevan further into Northern Armenia, passing heavily Russian towns as we went.

After about twenty kilometers, we made it -- Dilijan, the town somewhere between Candyland, a postcard, and a settlement of unacceptably adorable gingerbread houses.

Nestled between the Lesser Caucus Mountains and a rich forest of oaks, Dilijan has long been home to a large artistic community of Armenian artists, filmmakers, and writers. I sure wouldn't mind using this view from my window as inspiration for writing everyday.

With a small population of under 15,000 people, the town has suffered considerably from its dwindling numbers over the past two decades. On the plus side, the surrounding deciduous forest --a national park -- has been relatively untouched and is home to everything from mushrooms to wolves to wild hogs. Find me some truffles, boys!

The whole place kind of just makes you feel like you need to hold hands with everyone while skipping down lanes. And we mostly just did that (san the skipping, unfortunately) -- wandering from building to building, smiling at the warm Armenian passers-by, and enjoying the beautiful scenery.

Between the cobbled streets, traditional Armenian architecture (that is, non-Soviet), and surrounding lakes, I sure wouldn't mind snapping up one of these gingerbread houses and using it as a summer home. All I'd need is a good stock of Armenian cognac. But now I'm getting ahead of myself...

Armenia: Sivan

2011-12-09T10:00:00.002+03:00

Having grown up in Wisconsin, picturesque autumns were something I sort of took for granted. That is, until I started living in the desert. When November and December became prime beach time, my appreciation for autumn shifted substantially. Thankfully, these past two years, I have been able to experience the joys of autumn, however brief. Last year, we landed in Istanbul as the leaves were changing and the air was just crisp enough to fill your lungs with a pleasant chill. This year, Armenia didn't disappoint either.

Last year's November weather was unseasonably warm in Istanbul, so we were even a little spoiled. This year, Armenia decided to go all out for us. Snow-capped mountains!

Driving out of the bustle of Yerevan, the autumn air became noticeably harsher. Not only were we going deeper and higher into the imposing Armenian mountains, but we were nearing the famed Lake Sevan. One of the largest high-altitude lakes in the world, Lake Sevan covers nearly five percent of the entire country.

But we were rolling up the scratched windows and blasting the heat (as much as one can blast the heat in a rusting out old Peugeot) as we ventured northeast for good reason. This:

Pretty, right? The Sevan Peninsula was actually an island (the picture above is near the tip of the peninsula looking back west at the mainland) until the mid-20th century when the same geniuses behind the Aral Sea disaster decided to lower the water levels to amp up nearby irrigation and make controlled changes to local fisheries.

Oh, the Soviets.

Obviously, economic devastation and far-reaching ecological damage ensued, and the complete loss of Lake Sevan was perhaps only prevented with the end of the Stalinist era in the mid 50's. Today, the lake is cautiously stable but still substantially lower than it was just a half century ago (about 20 meters lower, in fact.) Fortunately, beauty still abounds in the area. Climbing up the peninsula, you can see a picturesque newish monastery at water's edge to the north,

the lake extending West, snaking further back into Northern Armenia,

and beautiful light-hued water as far as the eye can see.

Oh yeah...and, you know, just a 1100 year old monastic complex.

Sevanavank (The Seven Monastery) was built in the late 9th century. Legend has it, it was a place for disgraced nobility and wayward monks. Imagine: an isolated stone monastery for rebels that broke away from the religious establishment. It's sort of like its own little Armenian Religious Alcatraz.

The stones decorated with crosses and botanical scenes are called khaachkars and are found throughout the country at structures and sites from the Middle Ages. I'd like to use a couple of small ones as bookends for my shelf, but I don't imagine that would have sat well with any authorities who would have found them hidden in my carry-on.

Once inside, you really get an appreciation for how damn long it must have take to make this place. I can barely carve a turkey let alone an entire monastery.

Truly though, the octagonal nature of the structure of the whole place was perhaps the most impressive.

...So impressive and beautiful, in fact, that I felt like I had my head in the clouds. Or, more likely, perhaps I really just did.