...
Where did I leave off, nearly a month ago. Has it been so long? Longer, probably.
Well, I journeyed out of Israel. But oh, what a journey. My flight out of Amman was at 3 a.m. So one would think it'd be simple getting to Amman. I mean, it's a next door neighbor. There used to be a direct bus from Tel Aviv.
Wait, correction. There is a bus. That bus goes over the Allenby Bridge, or as the Israelis call it "Gesher Allenby." Unfortunately, because of political possessiveness and all the "P-C"ness that comes along with that, the bridge, which connects through the West Bank, is considered to be part of Jordan, and so it's impossible to buy a visa at the border. You must already have one. Guess where you get it? Washington D.C.
Not an option for me. Even though that is the shortest (2 hours) and most direct route, straight across to Amman, for me.
So there's another bridge. Down South. In the Negev, near Eilat. The King Hussein Bridge, I believe it's called. The whole journey would take about 6-8 more hours, not including transfer times, and the Russian Roulette game I would play with the buses in Jordan. I could easily miss my flight. Not the best option.
And finally, the third bridge for me--and the one I ultimately chose to take--was the Sheikh Hussein Bridge, right outside Beat Shean. A new border point, it's supposed to be easy and much less hassle then Allenby. Of course, that's 2.5 hours up North from Jerusalem, and then you must take a taxi south to Amman--another two hours, if you're lucky. It's expensive, but the cheapest option...and the only one I could really take.
There went.
And so that was why I was leaving Jerusalem 11 hours before my flight. About five hours of pure traveling, one hour of transition, three hours for before the flight, and two hours of cushion. Trust me, I knew what I was doing with that cushion...(not only retrospectively a realist, I was very right.)
And so I said my goodbyes. Well, not really actually. I sort of don't like saying goodbyes, so I mostly just snuck outta there. Thanked Devora and her family for being such wonderful, kind and hospitable people, then shuffled off (not the mortal coil).
Of course, as soon as I hoisted my self, and my stuff (no easy task) onto the bus, and we were on our way, I realized I'd left my cell phone and favorite sweater down in the sukkah at Devora's place. Joyous.
I'll condense the shuffling from bus to bus, the sweat and the grunting...and just say that I made it onto the destination bus--to Beat Shean.
Then I was dropped off, around 7:30 p.m. (I'd taken the bus at 5 p.m. at the station)...I'd read that you had to be in the border by 8 p.m. to make it across. The distance between Beat Shean and the crossing was close, but not "walkable," as everybody seemed to put it--5/6 km. Just enough to be too much, especially with all my stuff.
So there I am, standing in the middle of the dark, not a taxi in sight, and not really any clue where they would be. The streets are near empty, except for some music coming from across the street--people at a restaurant, eating falalel and singing in the sukkah.
Keep in mind I have all my shit with me. Every object I've dragged about for these last two G-d forsaken months. (Hyperbole alert) And so, of course, I decide to haul it around the entire block with me. I start to get a bit desperate. I only have 30 minutes after all. I consider hitchiking--but, it's dark, there are barely any cars on the road, and I have all my worldly possessions with me. Not the best situation.
I also know though that if I find a taxi driver, he will gouge me for all I'm worth. There's not really a whole contingent of taxis around.
Finally, at 7:50 p.m. a taxi appears, and I wave frantically. He says he'll take me for (my memory fails me, but I think it was) 60 NIS, I tell him 45. He says 50. I get in. (I'm desperate.)
We chat for the short ride, and he's really sweet. He gives me the ride for 49 NIS and at the gate he vouches for me. "She's a Jew!"...and the guard wishes me an early birthday, all smiles. (My birthday is the next day.)
So far so good.
Then I got to the border control, and that was a whole different story.
To be continued...
Well, I journeyed out of Israel. But oh, what a journey. My flight out of Amman was at 3 a.m. So one would think it'd be simple getting to Amman. I mean, it's a next door neighbor. There used to be a direct bus from Tel Aviv.
Wait, correction. There is a bus. That bus goes over the Allenby Bridge, or as the Israelis call it "Gesher Allenby." Unfortunately, because of political possessiveness and all the "P-C"ness that comes along with that, the bridge, which connects through the West Bank, is considered to be part of Jordan, and so it's impossible to buy a visa at the border. You must already have one. Guess where you get it? Washington D.C.
Not an option for me. Even though that is the shortest (2 hours) and most direct route, straight across to Amman, for me.
So there's another bridge. Down South. In the Negev, near Eilat. The King Hussein Bridge, I believe it's called. The whole journey would take about 6-8 more hours, not including transfer times, and the Russian Roulette game I would play with the buses in Jordan. I could easily miss my flight. Not the best option.
And finally, the third bridge for me--and the one I ultimately chose to take--was the Sheikh Hussein Bridge, right outside Beat Shean. A new border point, it's supposed to be easy and much less hassle then Allenby. Of course, that's 2.5 hours up North from Jerusalem, and then you must take a taxi south to Amman--another two hours, if you're lucky. It's expensive, but the cheapest option...and the only one I could really take.
There went.
And so that was why I was leaving Jerusalem 11 hours before my flight. About five hours of pure traveling, one hour of transition, three hours for before the flight, and two hours of cushion. Trust me, I knew what I was doing with that cushion...(not only retrospectively a realist, I was very right.)
And so I said my goodbyes. Well, not really actually. I sort of don't like saying goodbyes, so I mostly just snuck outta there. Thanked Devora and her family for being such wonderful, kind and hospitable people, then shuffled off (not the mortal coil).
Of course, as soon as I hoisted my self, and my stuff (no easy task) onto the bus, and we were on our way, I realized I'd left my cell phone and favorite sweater down in the sukkah at Devora's place. Joyous.
I'll condense the shuffling from bus to bus, the sweat and the grunting...and just say that I made it onto the destination bus--to Beat Shean.
Then I was dropped off, around 7:30 p.m. (I'd taken the bus at 5 p.m. at the station)...I'd read that you had to be in the border by 8 p.m. to make it across. The distance between Beat Shean and the crossing was close, but not "walkable," as everybody seemed to put it--5/6 km. Just enough to be too much, especially with all my stuff.
So there I am, standing in the middle of the dark, not a taxi in sight, and not really any clue where they would be. The streets are near empty, except for some music coming from across the street--people at a restaurant, eating falalel and singing in the sukkah.
Keep in mind I have all my shit with me. Every object I've dragged about for these last two G-d forsaken months. (Hyperbole alert) And so, of course, I decide to haul it around the entire block with me. I start to get a bit desperate. I only have 30 minutes after all. I consider hitchiking--but, it's dark, there are barely any cars on the road, and I have all my worldly possessions with me. Not the best situation.
I also know though that if I find a taxi driver, he will gouge me for all I'm worth. There's not really a whole contingent of taxis around.
Finally, at 7:50 p.m. a taxi appears, and I wave frantically. He says he'll take me for (my memory fails me, but I think it was) 60 NIS, I tell him 45. He says 50. I get in. (I'm desperate.)
We chat for the short ride, and he's really sweet. He gives me the ride for 49 NIS and at the gate he vouches for me. "She's a Jew!"...and the guard wishes me an early birthday, all smiles. (My birthday is the next day.)
So far so good.
Then I got to the border control, and that was a whole different story.
To be continued...
posted by IJW at 11:21 AM
2 Comments:
Took you long enough.
-Money
Haha. Every time, man. Every time.
Yeah, apologies.
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