Sinai

Dan and I hauled ourselves out of bed around 2:30 am, which was apparently later than everyone else because the streets were totally empty on the way to the monastery, and the tourist police looked bored and listless when we got there. On the way up, some random guys passed us saying, "Don't hire a guide! Don't!" We didn't know what they meant at first, but then we encountered an irritating scam. The police claimed that, thanks to some idiot tourist who got lost on Mt. Sinai for eight days, we would not be allowed to climb the mountain without an "official Bedouin guide," obtainable for a not inconsiderable fee of 85 LE. I am not sure it is possible to get lost on Mt. Sinai. I was pretty panicked and wouldn't have known what to do, but Dan refused to give in, using his mad language skills to give us enough street cred to get past the checkpoint sans guide.

We were mostly alone on the camel trail leading up to the summit, with the exception of camel drivers descending the mountain in search of new clients/victims. "Camel ride? Camel ride to top? Good camel! Good price!" We used our cell phone flashlights to light the path in front of us, which wasn't too steep but was still tiring and long. I had to take a lot of breaks, but Dan was patient with me and we used the break time to look up at the stars. I can't remember the last time I saw the milky way, or managed to hear nothing but crickets and the crunch of my feet (and the occasional camel driver...). There are occasional rest stops populated by Egyptian vendors who always ask, "Coffee? Chai? Chocolate?"



We didn't reach the summit by dawn, but we did get to watch the sun rise over the mountain and highlight some incredible views. We also got to admire the resting camels, who look hilarious when they sleep!



It soon became clear that I didn't want to be at the summit anyway--most pilgrims head up around midnight, then huddle together in the cold for hours until dawn. The top of Mt. Sinai is windy and freezing at night, meaning that local vendors make a fortune in blanket rentals. Hundreds of people cram themselves into a pretty tight space, and I got a taste of the traffic jam when they started coming down before Dan and I had finished going up. The trail to the summit ends with a set of uneven stairs which are an absolute nightmare to climb. It gets even worse when a river of tourists comes cascading down the thin path, threatening to knock you off.

The climbers themselves, however, were a fascinating sight. One girl descended in a pair of once-fashionable gladiator sandals, now ragged and covered with dust. Some European tourists had brought ski poles with them to assist with the climb. Unless they packed them, where the hell did those come from? One guy, dressed in a black striped shirt, shorts with a garish blue box pattern, and an undersized camo-print hat, was very taken aback when asked if he was from the US. "No," he said with palpable disgust. "No, I am from Germany!" He might be embarrassed to be mistaken for a US citizen, but I am embarrassed that anyone thinks an American would dress like that!

Dan and I found a remote spot on the summit for breakfast, and after a leisurely meal, we discovered that we were basically alone on top of the mountain. Everyone had left. There is nothing interesting on the summit, by the way--just uncomfortable spaces and a pretty unattractive stone building. I didn't even get any commandments! Since we had taken the camel trail up, we used the "Stairs of Repentance" to get down. Let me tell you, after taking those stairs, I am SO SORRY. They are uneven, steep, and unbelievably hard on the legs. I do not recommend that anyone ever take those steps to the summit in the dark of night.



The scenery, however, was breathtaking. The rock formations were illuminated in all their colorful glory, and the occasional plant had barged its way out of the ground to add a little green to the landscape. My favorites were these spiny little flowers that looked like very unfriendly dandelions. There were also some amazing stacks of rocks set in random clusters beside the path, serving as reminders of those who had descended before us. My favorite human addition to the trail was a gorgeous drawing of Mary just inside the window of an empty building.



The monastery itself was not really my favorite. There were some heart-stoppingly stunning icons in the museum, but the museum and church were packed and there wasn't much that tourists are allowed to see.The ticket taker at the museum was an unfriendly, bent-over old man whose assistant was rubbing his thighs and butt with some kind of electric massage device. Still not sure what to make of that one. The lights in the museum went out every fifteen minutes or so, apparently in an attempt to flush out lingering tourists. (Dan and I lingered on.) Anyone talking inside of the church, even softly, was insistently shushed by the despotic church guard, and all of the icons in it were unlabeled and hung high up on the wall.

We did, however, see a clipping from the original burning bush (yep, the Moses one) that has allegedly been thriving at the monastery for centuries. My favorite part about this was the fire extinguisher placed a few feet away.



I'm currently in Jordan, about to rest up for a second day of exploring at Petra. I am exhausted, but very happy. Expect posts in the future about the ferry to Jordan and our Petra adventures!