EUROPE/JORDAN 2019 STORY

Time for a bit of history, both ancient and relatively recent, one of the Seven Wonders of the World, and a super birthday celebration.

Upon arrival in Madrid, the weather was picture perfect. For you photog addicts, it was an ISO 400, F-16 day. Due to the lengthy flights to get there, we both had onion soup for brains. As we departed the cab that took us to our hotel, we decided to take a brief nap. Four and a half hours later we awoke, and decided that other than having dinner, we would be silly, if one can call two people with the combined IQ of an after-dinner mint silly, to attempt any real running around, and/or sight-seeing. Thus it was that we made two discoveries. (1) Next door to our hotel was a fabulous Ethiopian restaurant. (2) “Madridians” are night-crawlers. We sat down to dinner at 1930, 7:30 P.M. As we finished our repast at about 2100, the rest of the denizens of the dark were just coming out to begin dining, cocktails, and hanging out in general. Few, if any, got into cell phone activities. These people actually speak to each other, and give each other total attention. The only drag was that a high percentage of them smoked….Tobacco. Nonetheless, it was refreshing to see people actually communicating with each other the way we used to do in America before the proliferation of cell phones. “Culture Shock 101.” Needless to say, after a short walk around our street, we made it back to our hotel room just in time for a much needed appointment with the sandman.

Up bright and early for our first Spanish breakfast of this trip, consisting of an egg-onion-potato pie, accompanied by Serrano ham, croissants, fruit and coffee that could “wire” the dead. Thus fortified, we took off for a walk around our part of town, where we found a terrific greengrocer, and other neat little stores that catered to locals as well as out-of-towners. After this multi-hour sojourn, we decided on another well needed nap. Again, we were down for the count. We arose in time to join the locals in their dinner time frame. The hotel at which were staying was ideally situated for our situation. Directly across the street was a fabulous restaurant which was well known, and as we came to find out, rightfully so for their paella, and seafood dishes. Not wanting to miss this opportunity, that’s just what we ordered. We were not disappointed. The service was prompt. The food was prepared to perfection.

We were using Madrid as our jumping off spot for the rest of this caper. So on Thursday, after breakfast we took a taxi back to the airport to board our Czech Air flight, which for some unknown reason was delayed by two hours. Czech Air, as we had learned in the past, is always prompt, no matter how long it takes. Upon arriving at the Prague airport, we rented a car made by the Czech company, Skoda. Due to the flight delay, the rental desk was closed. It was a study in frustration to find the rental desk that was open. Schlepping our luggage around the airport, the third building pointed out to us was the one that had people who could help us. Skoda, the car that they issued to us, is a very basic vehicle. The GPS quit after twenty minutes. Thank G-d for our I-Phone app. We arrived at our hotel in Pilzn, pronounced Pilzen, unscathed and unnerved. At this point, you’re probably wondering, “Why Pilzn?” Well, here goes. On May 6, 1945 the Allies wrested Pilzn from the barbaric clutches of the Nazi army, which had already murdered every man, woman and child in the nearby village of Littice, pronounced Lee ti chay, and then burned it to the ground. After a good night’s sleep, and breakfast, we donned our Vietnam Era Veteran, and Iraqi Freedom hats, and took off for downtown Pilzn to see this epic paean to the forces of freedom. There were WWII vehicles, tanks, jeeps, et cetera, men and women wearing WWII allied uniforms, complete with the weapons of the time, outside displays, and tents to show the living conditions of the Allied Occupational Forces. We were treated like visiting royalty. The troops, tanks and other vehicles were paraded through the streets that were lined with a throng of cheering, grateful Czech people. It felt great to be an American veteran.

This is what Colonel Naomi Horowitz, DDS would have been doing dentistry in, had she been in the Army during that period.

Here they are lining up for the parade. To add to the setting, it was rather chilly and gray outside. We stuck around for the parade, as well as a pair of double espressos laced with Amaretto, which made it sunny and warm inside of us. After basking in the sunless environs of Pilzn, we decided to hit the road.

After two and a half hours of driving from Pilzn, we entered a great big Czech historical fantasyland, Cesky Krumlov, pronounced Chesky Krumlov, which we nicknamed “Krummy,” complete with a world class legendary castle that we went through, including the climb up to the very top of its tower. More on that later. Following the signs to the city center, we came to find out that this was one of those “One road in, and out” towns. This bridge connects the section of town where there is the only “legal” parking lot for the hotel at which we were staying. This is important to know as you will see, if you ever come to this mini-metropolis.

We had heard about the Hotel Ruze, which is a converted 16th Century Jesuit dormitory. Just the place for a happily married Jewish couple on vacation. It is deluxe in every way, including being located in the center of town. Normally, one would say “Bravo” for its location. However, for us newbies, it presented a few problems. Remember, one way in and out. Of course there is no parking in front of the hotel, because of the narrow one way street. Nonetheless, we played dumb, it was an easy act, because we were totally ignorant of how the “check-in game” was played. We, of course, parked right in front of the entrance, walked in and asked, “Where’s the parking lot, and how do we unpack our luggage without creating a traffic problem?” This was quickly addressed by the front desk clerk who grabbed one of the local roadies, and made it abundantly clear to him that our luggage needed immediate attention, as well as our car. “Mr. Roadie” ushered us out of the lobby to our car, grabbed all of our luggage in one lick, got us back into the lobby, and with a bit of “Tonto style English,” coupled with sign language took us back out to our car, and instantly made us understand that we were to follow him to the “legal parking area,” that required going through the center of town, circumnavigating the rest of it, and then parking in the hallowed “legal parking area.” It was after we got our car safely, and legally parked that we learned the function of the bridge….Yes…To get back into town.

Here is the center of town, with the castle and tower looming over it. Yes. All of the streets are narrow, as are the stairways in the castle, leading to the top of the tower. Enough climbing, and bumping walls, made it obvious that this was not constructed for Walmart shoppers. The castle houses lots of weapons and art from the 16th Century, along with the furniture and fashions of the time.
This is the stairway to the top. Yes. It’s pretty tight.

Surprise! Surprise!! There’s even a “Torture Museum.” At first we thought that it would be a junior high string section playing in a locked room…But no. It was a “real deal” torture palace, as shown below. Well hey, everyone has their own sense of funzies.

After a couple of days of walking about, we bade farewell to Krummy, and took off for Prague, to meet up with our friends, or as we refer to them, our Czech Mates. Karel and Bela Vejvoda, pronounced Vay Vo Da, and their daughter Andrea, and son-in-law Sascha, pronounced Sascha. After we got settled into our hotel, and got a good night’s sleep, we got together with Andrea and Sascha, who took us to a medieval town called Kutna Hora. Neither of us had ever heard of it. So Sascha played “Mr. Tourguide” for us. Kutna Hora, located near Prague, for over four centuries was the silver mining capital of Europe, beginning in the 14th Century. Kutna means digging. Hora means hole. Hence the name, Kutna Hora. Most, if not all of the coins minted for Spain, France, and Italy were stamped from silver that was mined here. The main cathedral is dedicated to the patron saint of silver miners, Saint Barbara. Along with the usual ostentatious walls and ceilings, various kingdoms are represented by their heraldic symbols, mixed in with the religious symbols. It’s an interesting amalgam of the sacred and secular of that era. After viewing this seat of Kutna Hora religious might, we decided upon a bit of fuel to continue our sojourn into the past. Yes. A double espresso laced with Amaretto was the chosen nostrum.

It was now time to “get deep,” according to Sascha. So off we went to the local ossuary, which houses the bones of over 60,000 people, who were 14th through the 17th Century victims of the plague and other diseases, along with wars. The way that the bones are displayed is pretty weird by our standards. I’m not implying irreverence, but some of the rib bones were displayed like marimbas, other bones were like chandeliers, wreaths and garlands like for a Christmas tree, and the skulls were more or less like tempo blocks, and pyramids. The jaw bones were fashioned into candle holders, among other things. Breast bones were fashioned into crests, coats of arms, window frames, and religious icons of the Roman Catholic Church. Unlike the Catacombs in Palermo, photography is perfectly alright with the guides and docents.

After all of this history, coupled with the macabre, what could be left to do? Celebrate Naomi’s birthday! Yes. Sascha had made reservations at what I believe to be the number one French restaurant in Prague for the occasion. He is a class act. The restaurant more than lived up to its reputation. Everything that we had was “top drawer.” It was now time to bid farewell to our Czech Mates, get some sleep, and take off in the morning to Jordan.

“Why Jordan?” you ask. Quite simply because at the top of this travelogue, I mentioned that we also were going to see one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Well, here goes.

We landed in Amman, Jordan, and expected to see the car rental people with a sign bearing our name. It didn’t happen. The people there were so goofed up, that one car rental rep stopped me and asked if I was Alvin Chong!! When Mr. Chong showed up, I told him of the query. He and his wife thought it was great! Now I can say that I have been mistaken for Lebanese, Italian, Greek, Spanish, Egyptian, Israeli, and at long last, Chinese. Finally, someone who saw our situation offered to call the rental agency that we were hoping to get our car from, made contact with the people, and they showed up ten minutes later. Thus we got our rental car, and began our drive to Petra, which is one of the Seven Wonders of the World. We were warned that there are very few people who follow the rules of traffic, road lanes, signals, passing, speed, et cetera. Driving through the desert was quite similar to driving in and out of Las Vegas in the 1950’s. Almost totally empty. We were also informed that it was Ramadan. None of the faithful locals eat or drink until sundown. They also try to do random acts of kindness. We found out about the latter when we attempted to buy a large bottle of water at a gas station. The man who ran it told us that he had no big bottles of water. So as I got back into our car, he came running out of the little office to us, and gave us a couple of cartons of bottled water gratis. When I tried to pay him, he declined payment, iterating that it was Ramadan, and he was doing his random act of kindness. We gratefully accepted his random act of kindness. How about that, a mitzvoh in the desert!! When traversing the desert, one should have lots of water. As we were driving along the highway, people appeared along the side of the road, as if begging us to stop for some reason or other. We later found out that they were trying to give us candies, and pastries as their random act of kindness. As I wrote above, the desert was practically empty. However, there were occasional mosques, and houses in what seemed the middle of nowhere. Apparently due to the lack of forests, the buildings are made of cement.

Undaunted, we pressed on to our hotel, the Mövenpick, which is located directly across the street from the entrance to the gorges leading to the main part of Petra. This hotel is a luxury version of the Arabian Nights. The opulence hit us as soon as we entered, and kept getting better.

After a fabulous dinner and well-earned night’s sleep, we had a typical fantastic Middle Eastern breakfast buffet that consisted of the usual western bill of fare, accompanied by fruits, vegetables, and sundry Middle Eastern concoctions that were not only exotic to us, but delicious. It was now time to venture forth into the desert world wonder, Petra. As we walked the approximately mile and a half path dug out of the mountains leading to the main part, we were in constant awe of what these people accomplished with hand tools.

It’s not known exactly when Petra was built, but the city began to prosper as the capital of the Nabataean, pronounced “NABA TEE ANN,” Empire from the 1st Century BCE, where they grew rice, which they traded for frankincense, myrrh, and spices. It was later taken over by the Roman Empire, and continued to thrive until a large earthquake in 363 CE destroyed most of it. Not being Californians, the natives abandoned it. Petra is also known as the “Rose-Red City” because of the color of the rock from which many of the city’s structures were carved. The Nabataeans buried their dead in complex tombs that were carved out of the mountain sides. The city also had temples, a theatre, and later on, a colonnaded street and churches. The gorges are known as Siqs, pronounced “Seeks,” which lead into Petra.

This particular one resulted from a natural splitting of the mountain. The Nabataeans also figured out how to create a dam to divert flash flood waters through a tunnel 88 meters long for themselves and their crops. They apparently had a great knowledge of hydrological engineering. Remember, they did all of this with hand tools. They also had huge cisterns along the way, which were filled from this tunnel, via pipe systems that they created. These guys weren’t fooling around. They were there to stay, or so they thought. The jewel in the crown, of course is the “Treasury” that they carved out of a mountainside….Again, with hand tools!!

This is near the end of a Siq leading to the “Treasury.” Yes. It’s all dirt pathways. This, coupled with the unrelenting sun, made for a real heavy appreciation for the workers who created this by hand.

After walking, sweating, and listening to our tour-guide’s dissertation on the whole complex, we finally made it to the jewel in the crown, the “Treasury.” Was it worth the drive and the hike? YOU BETCHA!!

As H.G. Wells put it, “Strength is the outcome of need.”

After seeing this, along with the temples, theatres, tombs, and other incredible feats of engineering, and phenomenal hard labor, we decided to hoof it back to the museum, and “kitch merchants” at the entrance to the Siqs. Yes. It was the same distance, and trail that we took to get to the “Treasury.” Undaunted, we did it. Now it was time for souvenir hunting. Remember. This was still Ramadan, and the shop workers were long on hunger, and short on temper. Thus, bargaining had to be tempered with diplomacy. As one salesman said to me, as he iterated the price of a goodie that we “needed,” “I swear by the sword of my grandfather…..” I countered with a price offer accompanied by a similar protestation, “I swear by the beard of my sister…..” Thus it was that we got our goodies, and they made their money for the day from us and other sweat-soaked travelers.

Back at the hotel, unbeknownst to Naomi, I had spoken to the restaurant manager earlier in the day, and told him it was Naomi’s birthday. So, after we “hosed off” and rested a bit, we went up to the rooftop restaurant for dinner. After a sumptuous meal of fabulous Middle Eastern fare, there came a group of singers and pot-bangers, singing “Happy Birthday” to Naomi. It took her by total surprise. They sang the birthday song in a sort of English, and Arabic. All in all, it was a gasser.

As we took in the grandeur of the Siqs, Treasury, et cetera, We marveled, as most tourists would, at the magnitude of all that we were seeing, and touching. At one point, our tour-guide noticed me muttering under my breath, “Holy Sh**” a few times. Thus it was that he taught me how to say it in Arabic….”Yellell Howl.” Yes. That phrase was used many times in the coming days.

So it was, on the next day, that we bade farewell to Petra, and started the drive to Amman. As an interesting side-note, the highway that we used was the same Kings Highway used in ancient times to get to and from Amman and Petra. At one point, our Waze guidance got a bit dicey. After making a series of U-turns, and stopping out of frustration, a fellow in an “aged” pickup truck pulled up next to us, and asked where we were going. When we told him, ”Amman,” he said for us to follow him, and keep going straight. Well hey….Another Ramadan Mitzvoh!! We did just as he said. Some of the sights on the way were pretty incredible. We had seen camels, the two-humped vessels of the desert, at Petra. However, out here in beautiful “Downtown Nowhere,” we saw only dromedaries, the one-humped vessels of the desert, along with spates of vegetation, as well as an occasional Bedouin tent, as you see below.

Now, how’s this for a change of pace along the King’s Highway? Yes indeed. Culture and camels….dromedaries, but dromedaries is not alliterative.

At last we reached Amman. However, unbeknownst to us, the hotel at which we had a reservation had changed its name. This confused our Waze GPS, along with the one-way streets, and the “no-way” streets. We had been told, when we rented the car, that Jordanians don’t really follow the rules of traffic. The lane lines are simply suggestions, as are the stop signs. The traffic lights are set up for green means go. Yellow means proceed with caution. Red means you’re on your own. It was as if the drivers in Amman were trying to compete with Palermo, Cairo, and Tokyo for the most daring feats of disproving the Pauli Exclusion Principle, that no two objects can occupy the same space at the same time. This was traffic conceived in an asylum by a slow third-grader. Try navigating through this neuro ward, while trying to find a hotel with a changed name, after being given directions by three different locals who said to follow this street, and turn left at the first light, where there is a big sign, “No left turn,” and sundry other “helpful hints.” And yet people say, “Getting there is half the fun.” All we were saying was, “Yellell Howl.” It seemed appropriate at the time.

A thought occurred to us while driving through this carnival of traffic. What if a guy tried to rob a bank here? He’d be caught trying to get away in this traffic. The cops could pursue, and capture him on foot. At one point, during this exercise in motor madness, a taxi driver tried to conduct traffic from his cab. He was soundly ignored by all, including a public bus driver who was driving his bus with the door open. It was during this phase of our caper that we remembered what the rental car guy said about Amman. “Find your hotel. Park your car, and leave it until you are going to the airport.” This was very sound advice. And we did just that. Yes. Ultimately we found our sanctum to be. How, neither of us can say. After checking in, and a quick hose off, it was time for cocktails and dinner. Once again, the bill of fare was spectacular, as was the service. It almost made the madness of getting there seem worth it….Rather like paying dues. Shortly after we returned to our suite, the door bell rang. There was a gentleman holding what you see below. Perhaps the hotel that we had just left alerted our present palace of peace that we were celebrating Naomi’s birthday for at least a week. Naomi quipped, “Everybody’s trying to feed me!”

Following a good night’s sleep, and a good breakfast, our driver, yes, in keeping with my certification as a devout coward, we hired a driver, who took us to Jerash, a Roman outpost from the 5th Century CE. Among other things that we saw was the oldest Byzantine Church, which dated back to 450 CE. As a bit of a sidenote: Amman was originally named Philadelphia. You’ll only need to know that if you’re going to be on Jeopardy. There are three amphitheaters. One is still in use today. Like the amphitheaters in Athens, the patrons’ names are carved into the seats, and are still visible. When they said season tickets, they meant it for perpetuity.

This is the entrance to Jerash. It is rather imposing, as are the rest of the ruins, the stables for the race and chariot horses, baths and sundry other things that the Romans built for their comfort, et cetera.

Rambling through this wonder of the past, we encountered theatres, the Naos, pronounced Nay Ose, which means “Temple,” of Zeus, who was a big man in their theology at that time. Like the other theater seats in Greece, and Petra, these bore the engraved names of the patrons. That’s quite a bit more durable than a punched ticket.

This is Naomi at the Naos of Zeus. Yes. It’s a temple. But we were unsure as to whether it was Orthodox, Conservative, or Reformed. Thus, she wore a hat when entering.

At one point, we saw a four-way intersection. It is called a Tetrapylon, pronounced Tetra Pile On.

Following this meandering through time, and dust, we decided to bid farewell to this paean to Roman tenacity, and engineering brilliance, and see something a bit more in our time frame. Yes. Of course. The Royal Automobile Museum. Yes. And what a museum it is. It was put together by King Abdullah II in 2003, to document this part of the history of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. It is the first public automobile museum in the Arab World. Besides the usual exotic cars, Rolls Royces, et cetera, there were some rather unusual, and unique things to see.

This is the first real, usable motorcycle ever made. It was created by Gottlieb Daimler in 1885, while coincidentally, Karl Benz was developing the first car in the world. Both engineers lived only a few kilometers from each other, but had never met. They were, in fact, competitors until they merged in 1926 to form the Daimler-Benz, and Mercedes-Benz Corporations. It’s interesting to me to notice how little the basic design has changed through the years. Notice there’s no windshield, “sissy bar,” or front/back lights, or turn signals. “Times were hard!”

For you WW II buffs, here is something I had never heard of. “BSA PARABIKES.” These were folding bicycles made by Birmingham Small Arms Company, for use by the Allied troops in Europe. It was designed to be folded in half, and carried on board an airplane, and then landed by glider, thrown out of the plane with its own small parachute, or carried by a paratrooper as he jumped out of his plane. There were over 70,000 made.

After all of this mingling with the past, we were driven back to our hotel, where we made our preparations for our next destination, the phantasm brought to life by unlimited funds and imagination, Dubai. The name fits it perfectly. Dubai, where the people do buy. The wealth of these people is beyond belief. There is no moderation to their excesses. It’s truly decadence run wild. The shops, in the Mall of the Emirates, which carry only “top shelf” brands of everything are manned by only professional sales personnel. They are there to help customers spend their money, and come back for more. In this respect, it’s quite similar to the way fashion stores were run in the 1940’s and 1950’s. The staff knew their product, and could tell you your size for anything in the twinkling of an eye. The displays are over the top in elegance, as well as glitter and glitz, which is for real, not fake, is marketing at its zenith. One thing that made us laugh was when we were riding the metro, which by the way was incredibly smooth, from our hotel to the Mall of the Emirates, we passed by three car dealerships, Bentley, Ferrari, and “Exotic Cars.” In the parking lots of these wallet drainers were Ford, Dodge, and Chevy pickup trucks. We didn’t know if this was a show of humility, or just for use by the mechanics and custodians of the showrooms. Besides the high end stores, there are attractions to keep the customers and their families from getting bored. We saw very few children with their faces mashed down into their hand-held game devices. There was something for everyone, at any age.

The sign is not kidding. Yes. There is an ice skating rink, as well as real snow and ski lifts for downhill skiing, along with resident penguins, a gargantuan aquarium, an incredible Star Wars display, jewelry shops galore, movie theaters, and restaurants to please any palate. The word, opulence just doesn’t do this mall justice. I swear by the beard of my sister!

In case you thought I was kidding about the snow, ski lifts, penguins, et cetera, here you go.

There is also a huge, of course, grocery shop, with foods and seasonings from all over the globe. We spent some time there checking out their stuff. Needless to say, everything was fresh, and displayed flawlessly. They have entire sections dedicated to many individual countries, such as their Filipino section, Mexican section, Chinese section, and on and on. Their assortment of dried fruits almost made me forget that I’m diabetic. We did sample some of their wares, however, and found nothing lacking. If it looks like I’m trying to justify my having some dried fruits, along with “Turkish Delight” candies, you’re correct. The produce is Homeric.

What we saw next really blew our minds.

After all of this sensory overload, what could possibly come next? Good question. We walked outside, where we were directed to a bridge, where we were told that a show was going to begin momentarily. The show was a combination of lights, water, and music. The majesty of it, coupled with the lit buildings surrounding us made for an “Arabian Nights meets Star Wars” presentation. One of the major attractions was the lighting up of the world’s tallest building, The Burj Khalifa. Opulence, extravagance, and artistry joined together by unlimited funds made for an unparalleled display.

After this extravaganza, we decided to head back to our hotel, and get some rest. This we did, which got us ready for the next day in this land of luxury. We took the tram to an area known for its gold shops. This area is called the gold souk, pronounced sooook. We found out that each shop is also called a souk. Thus armed with our new word, we decided that we were ready to shop, and bargain with the soukers (I don’t know if that’s a real word, but it seems to fit). After we looked around a couple of souks, we found exactly what we were looking for, a souk with the exact jewelry that we sought, and a readiness to bargain. Once again, I had to include the beard of my sister to make a point. Ultimately, I wrote a number down on a piece of paper, covered it, and raged on with the souker. We finally agreed upon what we both considered was fair. It just so happened to be the number on my piece of paper. Naomi was impressed. I was relieved. “Mr. Souk” was happy too. During the bargaining I let it slip that we were still celebrating Naomi’s birthday. Thus it was at the end of the bargain-jousting that “Mr. Souk” presented Naomi with a lovely bejeweled key chain (gratis). Needless to say, but I’ll say it anyway, we were both struck incredulous at this gesture. I guess he enjoyed the bargaining as much as I did. We have found during our travels that in many parts of the world, bargaining and price haggling are almost a national sport. At some shops, the salespeople are actually disappointed if the customer accepts the initial price proffered by the salesperson.

That’s about it for our Merry Month of May, 2019 sojourn. It’s not often that a lady gets to celebrate the anniversary of her nativity in four foreign countries, among friends in some of them. The historical remembrances that we witnessed were enlightening, entertaining, and in most cases, good physical exercise. As Naomi has said many times, “Old age ain’t for wimps.” We enjoy traveling to various countries to learn their cultural ways, as well as their history that in many cases shaped their society.

As it is said in Madrid, “Adios.” As it is said in Czech, “Ahoy.” As it is said in Arabic in Jordan, and Dubai, “Aleychem Salaam.” As we say it here, “Deep in the Heart of Texas,” “Be well, and have safe travels.”