Synopsis of day: Monasteries and dirt.
Spiritual Sites visited: Monastery of St. Anthony (the first monastery in existence) and the Monastery of St. Paul (though there were also some spellings of it as St. Poul)
Highlight of the day: There were so many. Each place we visited had its own highlights. Perhaps the overall feeling of quiet reverence that we felt at the monasteries, which contrasted from some of the religious sites in Israel.
Lowlight of the day: My legs were constantly reminding me that yesterday I climbed Mt. Sinai.
Toilet ratings: The St Anthony one was ranked by the others as a 4/10 but by the time I was there it had been degraded to a 2. Also it took two of us to unlock the door. One at a stop on the way to Hurghada required payment and the smell was not good. No hooks and paper was handed out, not freely available.
Favourite quote/word: Sharyn, when Mary walked away from us to look at some of the natural springs at St Pauls “She's done an Arthur'”
Favourite photo:
Looking at the two steeples of St Anthony's monastery (one was built but discovered to be too small for the bell so a second was constructed. Awesome, huh?)
Cultural-shock moment: The number of hotels there are along the Red Sea. So many of them look identical, but it is clear that this place is a tourist haven, in spite of what an outpost it really is – the land around is so barren.
New food consumed: Egyptian halva (which is like a crumbly nougat). There was some in Israel at Notre Dame but I didn't like that one, whereas this one was way too appealing.
Favourite purchase: I only spent one pound – toilet entry and that toilet was seriously not worth more than one pound (which is about the equivalent of 20c).
The thing I lost today: Any desire to remain at Porto-el-Sohkna.
Random act of crazy: The contents of the gift shops at St. Pauls. There seemed to be pirated Disney dvds, Connect 4 games, plastic guns and all sorts of really tacky icons and keyrings of the different saints and other religious souvenirs. Worse than the stalls in the old city of Jerusalem (which is really saying something).
What Arthur did next: Every second sentence seemed to be finished with his laughter. He also complained to Carlos our guide that Mohammed's English was very poor. (We had no trouble understanding him though – it just seemed that Arthur didn't listen). We also found him offensive when he told the Coptic priest that they did things better than the Greek orthodox churches that we had seen in Israel. While there may be truth in the statement, it felt extremely inappropriate, especially given that it was punctuated with his annoying laugh.
Something I want to remember: The peace and still beauty of the monastery of St Anthony and the surrounding mountains.
There is no category for this: Kerri and I were down to our last set of clothes so she wore her black dress and scarf. Father Thomas at the Monastery of St. Paul mistook her for a nun and so on several occasions when he could he tried to engage her in conversation, kept explaining things to her specifically and sat next to her and talked with her when we had tea. It amused all the rest of us because his interest seemed so pronounced. I should probably mention that he was probably close to if not double our age, not to mention a priest which meant he had lived over ten years of monastic life. It was a bit of a laugh. Some of the group have now been ribbing her that she was his devil's torment, sent to tempt him away from his cloistered life.
After the night before, wakeup seemed to come far too quickly. I was in far more discomfort than I had been the day before and any time I moved it seemed my legs were screaming. No longer dead, they had reached purgatory. We were very pleased however to be leaving the foul smell of the room, and to be heading on elsewhere. Because of the New Year celebrations, it was a very quiet place that morning. We were greeted with a new guide, Carlos, and headed in the direction of the Monastery of St. Anthony. We really enjoyed that tour, and the Coptic Priest who guided us was very generous with his time.
Showing us the old entrance through the roof.
We were able to try some of the fresh spring water, and also provided with bread at the old monastery food hall, which was beautiful in its simplicity. We were able to go upstairs and to walk on part of the ramparts, to see the keep for use in times of Bedouin raids and to walk inside the C3 church. It had a lot of saints pictures around it, but I really liked the explanation for the Coptic cross, which involved the four gospels, twelve arrows for the apostles as well as the icthus which went out in four directions signifying the corners of the world.
Following our visit there we had lunch provided which was more bread and some pretty wretched tasting lukewarm beans. I was quite delighted with the halva they provided though.
We then went further up a hill to a Church which was in a rock and had been carved within with enormous images. Kerri write about it in more detail. I think it looked pretty interesting on the inside but a little macabre on the exterior, since all of the stations of the cross which were being depicted had sections with stained red to depict the blood. We drove on for another hour and a bit (I slept) before arriving at the Monastery of St. Paul. We had exhausted most of our questions at the first monastery so this tour was quieter but there was a larger group with us too who dominated some of the priests' time (that which wasn't devoted to Kerri). There was a bit of bling around the place here too.
Phil pulling the bell as a monk-in-training walked by.
We ended up arriving quite late to Hurghada and drove through some crazy sights. Kerri seems very unimpressed by anything dirty (and there's quite a lot of that) but I'm really enjoying the novelty of the place. I am also at every moment appreciating what I have at home, and that my life is not bound by Islamic traditions.
I feel as though I should protest at your final comments about me, however, I cannot come up with any sort of argument to the contrary.
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