Tel Aviv's Ben Gurion Airport must be the most secure public-access facility on the face of the planet. A kilometer away from the entrance I was
stopped with my cab driver and checked. There I was assigned a number 6 on all my bags and on my person, indicating that I was marked as the highest threat level and in for the more thorough security check. Upon arriving at the building I was questioned about the origin of my name, travels in Israel, why I had three Israeli visas, two Egyptian visas, and one Jordanian visa in my passport in the past three months, who I knew in Israel, and asked to go through a complete itinerary of places I'd stayed and traveled. I offered to show them my blog and Facebook albums to confirm that I was indeed seeing the country, but they just couldn't believe I could find a month and a half worth of things to do in Jerusalem. "I live there, you know," said the admin woman they'd called in. So I just started listing off all the sites to see, until she eventually interrupted me and began asking me how I knew the city so well! Well, I'd been there for a month and a half!I can't blame them, of course. It's the primary airport in the most frequently bombed country on the planet. At that point they completely emptied my checked luggage and carry-on bags and went over the surface of all non-clothing items with a bomb sniffer. I don't just mean they hovered over the items; no, they checked all surfaces. As it turned out I had to transfer my deodorant, electric razor, and laptop into my bag. The latter was a bit inconvenient, since I'd hoped to take advantage of their free wireless; note that there is wireless, and other people were using their laptops, which means they just weren't able to check it thoroughly enough for someone with the dreaded number six.
Then came the final check of my person. I was taken into a back room that looked like a dressing room, and the curtain was closed. 'Oh God,' I thought, 'here comes the cavity search.' Fortunately, it didn't go quite that far. Instead, they asked me to empty my pockets, take off my belt and all jewelry, and remove my shoes. Then I was patted down, and they were particularly concerned about my thick socks. I suppose something could have been woven into them, but I was wearing my hiking boots and you just don't wear ankle-high socks with boots that rub against your calves.
Well, after about two hours I was cleared and made it into the terminal. From there things were very easy, and I must say, Turkish Airlines is very, very nice.After a transfer in Istanbul, landing in Izmir, and a cab from there to the Turkish port town of Kuşadası (Ku-shah-dah-suh), I was pretty much ready to go to sleep. However, before sacking out, I managed to grab some doner (which is Turkish street food, a sort of cross between shwarma and gyro meat) and arrange a ferry to Patmos through the very helpful owner of Sezgin's Guest House.
Patmos, for those who don't know, is the Greek island onto which St. John the Divine, the author of the Apocalypse, was exiled for his public declaration of Christianity, and is where he received that revelation. Tradition regards St. John the Divine as synonymous with St. John the Apostle, and these two are known together in Orthodoxy as 'St. John the Theologian' (a rare title granted only to St. John, St. Gregory of Nazianzus, and St. Simeon the 'New Theologian').
The following day saw me up at 7:30 and on a ferry from Kuşadası to Samos an hour later. Samos is a Greek island, as the overwhelming majority of Aegean islands are, so I had to pass through a (very easy) passport control. The Kuşadası-Samos ferry arrived in the main town of the island, called Vathi but mostly called Samos town, and I had to catch a bus to another port on Samos, called Pythagorio. While waiting for the ferry I found myself a place to get a gyro, which blew me away. I also wandered into a Greek Orthodox church still decorated for Easter, and
found out the origin of the town's name: the philosopher and mathematician Pythagoras was from Samos.Well, I then caught the three hour ferry from Pythagorio to Patmos. That ride pretty much consisted in me sleeping. Upon arrival, though, I quickly fell in love with Patmos and its sole port, the town of Skala (right, seen from Chora). I checked in to Villa Knossos, where I'd arranged a two night stay, and had a nice stroll.
If you imagine Patmos like a figure eight, Skala is on the eastern coast at the skinny middle part. In the middle of the lower bubble and atop a mountain is the medieval town of Chora, with the Monastery of St. John the Divine (also 'the Theologian') at it's heart. Down the hill, midway between Chora and Skala, is the Monastery and Cave of the Apocalypse. It was recommended
that I take a bus up to Chora and work my way down along the old Byzantine road, which is precisely what I did.These three sites together- Old Chora, the Monastery of St. John, and the Cave of the Apocalypse- constitute a UNESCO World Heritage Site. I feel like I'm checking them off a list, which is fine by me. The iconic scene (left) is of the white buildings of Chora surrounding the fortress-like Monastery of St. John. They're just as white and blue when walking their streets, too.
The Monastery of St. John itself was rather spectacular. The main church of the monastery has a double narthex: an exonarthex that is like a porch, but with its own iconographic frescoes and such, and an endonarthex, which is more like the traditional narthex.
Most impressive of all is their sacristy museum, much like the one at St. Catherine's Monastery at Sinai. It is here that many manuscripts and treasures of the ancient world- plays by Aeschylus, works of Aristotle- have been preserved. Liturgical vestments and tools from churches sacked by the Mamluks and Otomans were also moved here and are now on display.
After wandering through the streets of Chora (good example to the right), I set out on the Byzantine road. As it turned out I passed the cave and surrounding monastic complex, but managed to find it. The monastery has been built around the cave, which is in its deepest recesses, and there is a modern entrance office and shop clinging to the monastery's exterior walls. Passing through both, as the monastery itself is entirely closed, I walked down several flights of stairs.
At this point in my pilgrimage, I've realized that there are many places of deep significance that you really can't experience without some form of prayer or worship. In so many of these places- the Holy Sepulchre, the Cave of the Apocalypse, the House of the Virgin Mary- there's very little to see, but if you're willing to engage the place through worship and prayer, there is so very much to experience.
That's why I left almost immediately after asking whether the cave would reopen as scheduled later in the day. I hadn't brought my Bible, or my rosary, or my chotki with me, and I knew that the only way my spirit was going to make sense of this little cave with two iconostases built against natural crevasses would be if I allowed the Spirit to speak to mine. So I left and came back later, whence I spent some time alone and in the quiet of the cave.
A quick note: the Eastern Orthodox leave the Catholics in the dust when it comes to relics and holy sites. The Catholics may have a site for the House of the Virgin Mary, but the Orthodox have a site within the cave where St. John rested his head in the evenings, and a little niche in the wall he used as a handhold to pull himself aright in the mornings! And these are all outlined
in ecclesiastical silver.Still, a very nice site (as you can see left), and quite peaceful if you just grin and let the site speak to you.
The following day I traveled back to Kuşadası. While waiting for the ferry to arrive in Skala I met some Americans, Jeff and Rita, who are on an amazing tour of their own. They started in early January in Australasia and have worked their way through Southeast Asia, Israel, Jordan, and Egypt, through eastern and southern Africa, Istanbul, and are ending with the Greek islands and Ephesus. It was great to compare notes with them and get a number of recommendations. As it turned out, I showed them to Sezgin's Guesthouse where I'd decided to stay another night. They'd wanted to get to Ephesus, but were not sure whether it could be done in a day trip from Samos. I assured them it could not, so they decided to stay in Kuşadası for two nights; they should be back in Samos by now, or on a flight from there to Athens. Their trip will end Thursday.
Yesterday morning I said goodbye to Kuşadası and headed by dolmuş (mini-bus) for Selçuk. This is the town nearby modern Ephesus, and I'm staying here now. The place I'm at, called Jimmy's Place, is comparable with Fauzi Azar- warm (though not hot) water, free wireless, included breakfast, and at $30 a night, a serious deal.
Well, hopefully, I'll get a few final thoughts in on Israel this weekend, and then update you on the happenings in Selçuk. Until then, Christos Anesti!
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