Food, Friends, and Ferryboats

It's hard to believe I've been in Lebanon for a week already, harder still to think of leaving on Saturday. I've got an evening flight to Cyprus bought and paid for, though, so I'll be gone all too soon.

What have I been doing in Lebanon?  I've spent time catching up on the past nine years with an old friend, and getting acquainted with his three children. I wrote a short article on pilgrimage for a diocesan publication, which my friend then translated into Arabic.  I've been to church every day except for the day I arrived, and I'd have made it to the service that evening if I had walked instead of flagging a cab. A few days ago I went shopping and replaced my shoes. The duct tape repair job not only looked funny, it probably wouldn't have survived long on the rough trail that is waiting for me in the Holy Land. After 2000 kms, they have certainly been a good investment! I'll wait to discard them just in case my new shoes give me blisters.  And, as I've mentioned previously, I've been eating a lot and walking very little.

One of the advantages of being in a country with a long tradition of Orthodox Christianity is that there is no difficulty finding good wholesome food during fasting periods. After months of processed food, I am finally eating my veggies. And legumes, and fresh fruit, and of course, hummus and khibz.  The Feast of the Annunciation is a national holiday in Lebanon, so after Liturgy on Wednesday we feasted on fish, fish, and more fish. I had decided to keep fish in my diet for the Nativity Fast while walking in Italy, but I've been trying to keep a stricter fast for Great Lent. (That's probably one of the reasons I found the walk along the Mediterranean coast in Turkey so challenging, even with dairy.)

It's not only the Lebanese who have been wining and dining me. On Thursday, I finally paid a visit to my old stomping grounds at the St John of Damascus Institute of Theology and the University of Balamand. The bus ride north took an hour and twenty minutes and cost the equivalent of US $2. (The ride back south later that night took fifty minutes. Traffic congestion isn't an exclusively North American problem.) I had a chance to see Fr. Bassam, who had been a fellow parishioner in Canada before he returned to Lebanon. I also spent several delightful hours as the guest of Philip and Joanna. They are British expats who had begun teaching at the university the year I was in Lebanon, and thanks to Flickr I have maintained contact with them. When Philip brought me home after Great Compline, Joanna set a place for me at the table. I was genuinely surprised when I realised how late it was At the end of the evening. They gave me a ride down to the highway and waited with me until a bus arrived.  (The name Balamand is likely a corruption of "belle mont," which is what Frankish crusaders dubbed the hill. At 330 m, it's not particularly tall, but it is a very stiff climb up from sea level. I was glad to be spared the walk down in the dark.)

I'm still not sure how I'll be getting from Cyprus to Israel. The two ferry companies that sail out of the port of Limassol haven't updated their websites in quite some time. One of them indicates that service to Haifa ended in 2006, while it looks like the other doesn't start operating passenger ferries until May. I've emailed both companies, and am awaiting a reply. (One of them forwarded my mail to another company, so there's still some hope.)  I'm hoping to get a ferry to Haifa, and then follow the Israel National Trail south to Jerusalem.  It would be nice to get away from road walking for the last week of my pilgrimage, and with that in mind I bought a 2 litre water pouch to supplement my water bottle. One disadvantage of hiking trails is that they tend not to have shops selling cold drinks along the way.

Another possibility for travelling to Israel is a ferry to Ashdod.  The city looks to be about 30 kms from Jerusalem, which means I'd be arriving a week earlier than I'd planned unless I do what a few others have done and catch a bus north to Haifa and begin walking from there. While I've cut about a thousand kilometres from my walk by bus and train, it is counterintuitive to go out of my way just to follow a particular route. Still, I've got these nice new hiking shoes, so I may do just that.

The simplest way forward would be to fly from Larnaca (Cyprus) to Tel Aviv and then walk to Jerusalem from there. That would mean I wouldn't have any walking in Cyprus (the sea port is about 70 kms from the airport), but at least I'd experience some of the Israel National Trail without making an unnecessary detour by bus. It would also mean I wouldn't miss any of Holy Week. If I haven't heard from a ferry company by Sunday, this is likely what I'll do.

Triumph of Orthodoxy, Phanar

http://flic.kr/p/rLiPSS

Our Lady of Balamand

It's good to be back! http://flic.kr/p/rNApCT

Holy Theophany Orthodox Church

http://flic.kr/p/qPPdZy

Domestication

As the warm afternoon sun flooded my host's living room yesterday, I real‎ised that I have been indoors or in a car almost continuously since Thursday evening. I am not complaining about the hospitality - far from it - but after six months on the road, it is a radical lifestyle change. After explaining my desire to go for a short walk, I excused myself and set out.

One thing about the towns in the hills around Beirut is precisely that they are built in the hills. The roads follow the‎ contour lines, and if you make one wrong turn, you'll find yourself on the opposite side of a very steep valley, with no way to get to your destination other than winding down the hill and trying again. (That's one of the reasons my Thursday evening taxi ride was so painfully long.) Another peculiarity of these areas overlooking Beirut and the sea is that they consist almost entirely of low rise apartment buildings. Any errands require the use of a car. The only people I saw walking were attached by a leash to one or more dogs. I suppose I was rather conspicuous, especially with the bright yellow duct tape patches on my shoes. (Inexplicably, my photo of the repair job that I uploaded to Flickr has received over 3000 views in a little over 24 hours.)

From the above, it's probably quite obvious that I did not head north Sunday afternoon. I am very comfortable here, and being well fed at regular intervals. I should make an effort to do something other than sit and eat while I'm in Lebanon, or the resumption of my pilgrimage will be a real shock to the system.

When I arrive in Larnaca from Beirut on Saturday evening, I have several options. I could walk to Limassol and take the ferry to Haifa from there, or I can save a few days and fly out Sunday after attending Liturgy. The Orthodox cathedral in Larnaca was built over the tomb of Lazarus, and some of his relics have been preserved there to this day. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Church_of_Saint_Lazarus,_Larnaca (This year, the commemoration of Lazarus' resuscitation at our Lord's command will take place on April 4, a week after I arrive at the site of his second and final grave.)

Now that I've processed this information, there's no question about what I want to do. I plan to be at Liturgy Sunday morning in Larnaca. I suppose I could start walking to Limassol afterwards, but once I reach Haifa it will be about eight days of walking along the Israel National Trail before I reach Jerusalem. If I catch a Sunday flight and start walking Monday, I should arrive on Tuesday, allowing me to spend the greater part of Holy Week in Jerusalem. (Hopefully the hordes of Catholic and Protestant faithful will have withdrawn by this time.) I should have booked a hostel months ago since it is a very busy time of year, but I'm not overly concerned.

I will need to book my flight home before I reach Israel. (Apparently they may demand to see proof of departure at customs and immigration control.) My months of wandering are drawing to a close. Of course I'm eager to see friends and loved ones again, but the pilgrim way of life on the road has a beautiful simplicity to it which is difficult if not impossible to replicate when at home in the world.

In October I wrote of my mixed feelings of excitement and dread regarding my pilgrimage, and compared it to jumping off a cliff. There is no longer any dread in my heart, but my joyful anticipation at reaching my goal is mingled with some sadness. In online discussions, people who have completed the Camino often report experiencing the post-pilgrimage blues.

I don't know what I'll be doing when I return to Canada, other than seeking gainful employ. One thing I plan to do is maintain the habit of daily exercise I've acquired over the past months. (I've lost 20 kgs, so a new wardrobe is also in order.) A forty hour work week would provide both the time and money for a gym membership, but if I'm unable to re-enter the workforce immediately I will at least have the luxury of taking long walks each day. This might be beneficial for another reason. I've had several people suggest that an account of my pilgrimage could make a good book. I would need time and a good editor to work these updates into something worth publishing, and walking for several hours each day would provide me with the distraction-free time I'd need to get such an undertaking organised.

In any case, I will soon be sleeping in my own bed again, surrounded by my books and computers. There are some advantages to a domestic life that are impossible to replace while on the road.
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