🇯🇴🇮🇱🇵🇸🇹🇷 Birds of Pray

Hello Adventurers, 

If there was gonna be a week where things could’ve gone wrong, this would’ve been it! Why? Well, the short answer is a really tight schedule. And the long answer is a lot of travel, border crossings, and checkpoint crossings…by way of plane, train, bus, car, and foot.

How so? Well, since the last issue of the newsletter, I flew to Jordan, cabbed to the capital, and marathoned Amman. I then took a bus (proceeded by a shuttle) from it — through the West Bank — into Israel…where I marathoned Jerusalem as well as some of the West Bank (necessitating two checkpoint crossings by foot into and outta Palestine). After that, I bussed to Tel Aviv, and did a marathon there before taking the train to the airport. Then I flew to Pendik in Türkiye, cabbed to Istanbul, marathoned it, cabbed back to the airport, and flew to Georgia…where I cabbed to Tbilisi…to finish writing this issue of the newsletter. And yeah, more on Caucasia next week…not because I lack the headspace, but because I lack the digital space (this newsletter can’t exceed 100 kilobytes…or else it goes to your junk folder).

Anyhoo, this week was originally supposed to be more chill ‘cause I was gonna go to Erbil / Hewlêr in Kurdistan / Northern Iraq…but the missus vetoed it outta security concerns. So I took a gamble with my plans, went to the Abrahamic casino, tripled down betting on its trifecta, and hit the holy moly jackpot in terms of experiential payout that spanned history, politics, religion, identity, cuisine, and beyond.

The downside? Unfortunately, I can’t share all of my winnings with you due to the aforementioned data limitations. So we’re all getting shortchanged with regards to what this non-observant nutbar observed, and can ultimately share…which is peanuts!

But hey, I didn’t hit any hitches…and we luckily got ourselves a dispatch…so let’s get into the hits.

- Ben Pobjoy

2023 TREK TRACKER

Where in the world...record am I?

• Countries visited: 26

• Flights taken: 32

• Kilometres flown: 52,399

• Marathons completed: 86

• Kilometres trekked by foot: 4,054.3

• Total kilometres trekked since 2015: 67,146

RAPID WEEKLY RECAP

A speedy synopsis for time-crunched readers

• The Wildest Thing: Istanbul traffic is so bad that it took me two hours to drive 44 kilometres to the airport…for a two hour flight to Tbilisi which is 1,300+ kilometres away🤯

• The Biggest Obstacle: I pushed it a little too hard itinerary-wise this week, and it resulted in a lack of presence on my part (because I had persistent, low latency anxiety that I’d hit a snag somewhere)😮‍💨

• The Lesson Learned: It’s corny, but I think we’re all born as innately loving creatures before many of us become mistrusting-of-each-other adults. I walked alongside kids from all walks of life (and faiths) this week — and we shared snacks and laughs and passed footballs to one another — as sneering adults soured the vibe😢

FIELD NOTES: AMMAN, JORDAN

All hills, few thrills

Amman didn’t speak to me…and that’s because it doesn’t have much to say. Yes, there are some Roman relics (like the Citadel and the Theater)…but the city was designated a capital just a little over a hundred years ago, and it shows…by what it lacks as merchandise on the empty shelves of its imagination.

While humans have been in Amman — in one way or another — since the 8th millennium BCE, today’s iteration of the city is generally ‘new build’ vibes via relatively recent constructs like mid-rise residential buildings and shopping malls. Like, I’m not pulling your leg…Amman’s big showpiece mosque was only finished in 1989 (which is really young for such an old region).

The challenge — for Amman and for any human marathoning it — is that the city is actually drizzled like a sticky sauce atop 19 hills (with associated valleys)…and I don’t know if this is to everyone’s taste.

For me, it was sweet. Like, I really enjoyed the task of playfully marathoning Amman’s aggressive inclines and declines (and often skidded down the latter). However, my sense is that locals have sorta soured on the city’s seesaw curvature. For example, there’s little-to-no pedestrian culture (sidewalks are dead in much of the city / I only saw one person on a bicycle), everyone drives (and the amount of taxis going to-and-fro seems so incongruous with the void-of-humans vibes on the streets), and the most vibrant areas have taken root in the very few flat places (e.g. the cafés near Paris Square, the eateries on Rainbow Street, and the souq-y shopping district around the Grand Mosque Husseini). And everything of interest here is within a stone’s throw of each other…and that’s why you only need a half-day in Amman.

I think what surprised me most about Amman, was how surprised Ammanis were that I was just visiting the city…because it really is a get-outta-here-gateway to more epic things like the Dead Sea and Petra. So much so that Jordan has created these incredible, bang-for-your-buck passes that let you see true gems that honestly lie far beyond the city limits.

Lastly, one breadcrumb for you…the sprawling King Abdullah I Park in downtown Amman is totally abandoned and crumbling, and was my fave thing to explore (especially since everyone was in their cars, and I had the whole thing to myself).

FIELD NOTES: JERUSALEM, ISRAEL

The all you can eat — or stomach — belief buffet

Regardless of your faith, Jerusalem is incomparably fascinating. Like, there is nowhere else like it…and it easily makes my ‘top five list’ of places earthlings should visit on earth. And god-be-damned, it pains me that I only have space for a high-level summary…because Jerusalem warrants a full issue of the newsletter.

Why? Firstly, Jerusalem is — in many ways — a microcosm for how Israel is administered, divided, patrolled, and — in some cases — a contravention of international law. Secondly, Jerusalem’s Old City is home to some of the most significant sacred sites that concern the three major Abrahamic religions (e.g. Judaism, Christianity, and Islam), and this alone merits a visit to this spiritually huge area that’s a minuscule 0.9 square kilometres in size. Thirdly, I’d argue that the Game of Thrones set-looking Old City is one of the most incredible places on the planet for ‘people watching’ on two grounds; there’s how locals interact with it as well as how they interact with others (and how they tolerate — to varying degrees — the attempt-at-conquest, city-clogging shuttle bus’d visitors), and then there are the visiting pilgrims from abroad having these powerful emotional reactions to certain religious sites (and the latter is a thing of beauty to observe in others…and that’s coming from me; an atheist who has contempt for organized religion due to its god-fearing, operationally self-interested, seemingly hellish and conflict-loving ways). Fourthly, the gag in Jerusalem is that you likely have to enter a walkthrough metal detector…just to go into a showroom to buy a walkthrough metal detector (because this area is fraught with conflict…and there’s mandatory military service in the country…and uniformed teens clutching assault rifles all over the place). Fifthly, and this is subjective…but Jerusalem — as well as all of Israel — is a delicious delight to eat your way through (but Middle Eastern food is my favourite cuisine…so I’m biased).

Anyway, I previously marathoned Jerusalem on Easter Sunday in 2019, and hit some of its most sacred sites then (using a media pass to get insanely close to everything…like some big ritual thing in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre that I still don’t understand). And at the time, I went full well knowing that the lengthy list of everything in the area would be impossible to tackle in a single day.

While I somewhat double-dipped on my marathon this time around, I was more keen to explore things outside Jerusalem’s Old City. So I trekked the wonderfully pedestrian Jaffa Street (home to lots of cafés and eateries), poked around Machaneh Yehudah Market while gorging on halvah, and spent much of my time in East Jerusalem…which is technically part of the Palestinian West Bank…but is nevertheless an Israeli occupied territory. I visited the latter because Israel is a country full of different worlds and realities for those voluntarily — or involuntary — on its historically ‘shifting border’ lands. And me? I believe every visitor should bear witness to how the different people live here; be they free or oppressed.

Anecdotally, one thing that amuses me most about marathoning the spiritual amusement park that is Jerusalem’s Old City are the rules, the rigamarole, and the occasional ‘rub’. Like, if this place was a discothèque it’d have the most all-over-the-place dress code requirements, some really wavering entry costs..where greasing the palms of enterprising staff always gets you a lil something extra, and lastly…there’s just so many arbitrary things that’ll get you bounced out the venue and onto the street faster than a sin will get you bounced outta heaven. And, of course, there’s all the beast-mode bootleggers selling god-mode merch in front of everything…which tells you everything you need to know about moolah’s sacredness to capitalism!

While I’m not religious at all, I obviously go to religious places in the proper attire (to the best of my on-a-marathon abilities) with comportment that shows the utmost respect for the sites as well as their believers…because it’s truly gauche to dress — or behave — otherwise in these scenarios. That said, I had to LULZ at the Chapel of the Ascension…which I’ve visited before, but entered into for the first time of this trip. Anyway, I paid 10 shekels to some rando to get in, and visited the alleged stone-lined spot where Jesus stood on some rock and said, “Beam me up, Scotty Goddy!” to blast up into heaven like Astro Boy…and a ‘donations box’ was drilled into the wall two feet from it. Yo, like what? Someone wants me to chip in for gas money…when I missed the ride by like 2,000+ years?!?!

FIELD NOTES: WEST BANK, PALESTINE

The walled life on the wrong side of the tracts

Oof! If you think your rush hour commute to work sucks, try being Palestinian! And that’s precisely why I woke up at 4AM to marathon / cross-by-foot the Checkpoint 300 from Jerusalem, Israel into Bethlehem, Palestine in the West Bank.

I arrived at the prison-like crossing at approximately 6AM for the express purpose of observing thousands of Palestinian day labourers making the notoriously difficult, hours-long crossing into Israel for work. And it was something to witness with my own eyes, especially since I was going against the grain, salmon run-style looking into the weary eyes of exiting Palestinians…as I myself was entering Palestine…which one does under an oddly-worded ‘bon voyage’ sign on the Israeli structure before crossing through to Palestine via unmanned turnstile (but men with assault riffles greet you on the way back into Israel).

At this hour, the scene on the other side of the crossing was near-chaos as hundreds of working class Palestinians were queuing together / shoving one another to enter Israel like corralled chattel, yellow cabs were honking horns / gridlocked at the dead end road leading to the crossing (there because they’d dropped off said workers), and there’s the general hollering commotion of an informal market of vendors selling breakfast foods, coffee, and cigs to those crossing.

This was my second time doing this marathon-by-foot-crossing into the Palestinian Territories, and while I was doing it again in broad daylight…it’s a night-and-day experience. Why? Because the Israeli side is first world, and the Palestinian side isn’t…because the latter has been stunted by checkpoints and the Israeli West Bank Barrier…and other things depending on one’s hot take on this flashpoint place.

Anyhoo, I did this same general marathon trek before in 2019 and my thoughts about the state of affairs haven’t really changed; but everything and nothing has since changed in Palestine. It is still crippled yet the violence is now the worst it has been in years.

In good faith, I can’t recommend this trek…because I don’t want to be responsible for putting someone else’s life in danger. And while this area of the West Bank isn’t a war zone (it’s mostly chill), things can change on a dime…like in 2019 when I saw a car drive at some IDF soldiers and them quickly respond by forming a defensive position with assault riffles up and safeties off.

But hey, I take my chances and go because I think it’s important to see the world as it is…as opposed to looking at the world through tinted lenses tainted by pundits. Plus, the Church of Nativity is close by in Bethlehem — and that’s where baby JC was allegedly born — and the church has free toilets, and a decent espresso joint next door should you find yourself bumming around the area.

FIELD NOTES: TEL AVIV-YAFO, ISRAEL

Too fun and social…for this blockhead square

I can never tell if I’m indifferent — or ambivalent — about Tel Aviv-Yafo. So bear with me as this may read like a ramble (but I think it goes somewhere). What I do know, is that if you’re going to Jerusalem you also gotta go to Tel Aviv-Yafo (and vice versa…they’re only 45 minutes away from one another by car or bus).

While Tel Aviv-Yafo is Jewish and religious, it is noticeably more secular on a cultural level than Jerusalem…so you really get to see two different shades of Israel (when hitting both). And Tel Aviv-Yafo is great…it’s just that I’m not suited for it. And when you read the following, you may think I’m mental, but whateves…

Without a doubt, coastal-on-the-Mediterranean-Sea Tel Aviv-Yafo has one of the best beach promenades I have ever strolled. Like serious kudos to the planners because the beach is great, has loads of public washrooms, and is dotted with swim areas, ping-pong tables on the beach, free-to-use outdoor gyms, volleyball courts, these big shaded canopies, and it even has one of those Ninja Warrior Playgrounds. And the very-easy-on-the-eyes, sun-kissed local studs — be they male or female — eat it all up…and always make me feel like a doughy Pillsbury Doughboy (because physical culture really thrives here…and the mandatory military people are SHREDDED).

The Old City in Jaffa is pretty and has a great flea market, Florentin is full of street art and is a feast for the eyes, Lev Hair has the fun Carmel Market and the lovely Rothschild Boulevard that everyone picnics on, and Dizengoff Street will take you by a ton of great boutiques and cafés. And this ‘white city’ is aesthetically united by the 4,000 Bauhaus buildings built in the 1930s that helped Tel Aviv-Yafo earn a UNESCO designation thereafter.

So what’s the ‘but’? There isn’t one! Tel Aviv-Yafo is social, chatty, extroverted, outgoing, and really into nightlife. Me? I’m the legit opposite of all that stuff, ha ha!

If anything, Tel Aviv-Yafo doesn’t resonate with me because it feels too familiar for a place that’s a 9,000+ kilometre flight from my house. The beach feels similar to aspects of nearby-to-me Miami and Santa Monica, and because there’s so much North American and European Jewry in Tel Aviv-Yafo, it feels really Western despite being a Middle Eastern city.

Don’t get me wrong, I always enjoy my time there (and you would too)…it’s just that what I love most about travel is experiencing different things…and Tel Aviv-Yafo is just too same-same for ya bozo boohoo boi.

FIELD NOTES: ISTANBUL, TÜRKIYE

Meow! It’s Catstantinople!

Istanbul is a lot…but in a good way. It’s old and has a helluva history, it’s crawling with feral cats (that I really enjoy playing with), and it uniquely straddles the European and Asian continents courtesy of the bisecting Bosphorus Strait. Oh, and its autocratic demagogue Erdoğan is adept at straddling Europe and Asia too…‘cause dude knows how to speak outta both sides of his mouth (to leaders on both continental sides).

On my visits to Istanbul, I’ve spent more time on the European side in Fatih and in Beyoğlu (but I have boxed on the Asian side over in Üsküdar). Previously, I dug Fatih more…but on this trip, Beyoğlu won me over.

Now if you go to Istanbul, you’ll go to Fatih ‘cause it’s full of the hits like the Grand Bazaar, the Hagia Sophia, and the Blue Mosque. The only things I’d add to that list are a visit to the Egyptian Bazaar (for its gorgeous ceiling), a stroll along Yenikapı Şehir Parkı (to see breaching dolphins hopping outta the Sea of Marmara…as well as to see all the shipping vessels which are dizzying in their number), and a visit to Altan Şekerleme (an old-school, fourth generation candy store…’cause candy is a big thing in Türkiye). And the Basilica Cistern…which I have yet to find enough time to hit, but will hit one day.

Fatih is bumping with tourists and is market-y and I dunno…my fondness for it sorta evaporated on this trip ‘cause it has gone downmarket. Economists always say ‘the market will regulate itself’, and if that’s the case then the invisible hands of tourists in Istanbul’s back-alley markets like to discreetly reach for knock-off Christina Dior bags, Lewis Vouton belt buckles, and Goochi satchels. This junk now outnumbers all the stalls once dedicated to teas and spices, and the latter is what made the Grand Bazaar dope for the past 500+ years…and now it’s full of deal-searching dopes. Sad!

Anyhoo, I really came around to Beyoğlu on this trip / marathon just because car-less Istiklal Street rules, and there’s just so many hip cafés, restaurants, and shops splintering off of it. Like, if I were forced to do a group trip with friends, I’d reco Beyoğlu just ‘cause it’s so happening. Plus, there’s the Galata Tower and all the fishermen on the nearby Galata Bridge.

My time in Istanbul was short but lit…because an election is approaching, and people were rallying hard, political advertisements were everywhere, and political party trucks were driving around pumping deafening Turkish tunes 24/7. This country always feels like it’s on a wonky precipice…so I’ll be interested to see how Erdoğan wins…again, LOL.

BEST LOCAL THING-Y

Miznon is an restaurant chain that I’ve hit on countless marathons of New York, London, and Paris over the years. Their elevated take on Israeli street food is spectacular, and consistently delicious at every location…

However, the location on Shlomo Ibn Gabirol Street in Tel Aviv-Yafo (not the other two there) just dials everything up ‘cause of the ambiance; you eat on the street and everyone’s smoking and the macho men — as well as the macho women — are all yelling, and it’s just the extra special ingredient that’s missing from their other global locations.

Anyhoo, I had the roasted cauliflower drizzled in olive oil, crunched with a generous heaping of rocky sea salt, and then I topped it with their delish tahini. And I paired this with a ratatouille pita (which I had to reorder sans egg ‘cause I can’t speak Hebrew and fucked up).

Miznon’s food is so ridiculously tasty…and so simple that I just can’t compute how so few ingredients can produce something I CAN NEVER SUCCESSFULLY REPLICATE WHEN I TRY AND COPY IT AT HOME!!!

POBJOY'S GLOBAL PRICE INDEX

This is an on-going documentation of how much things cost in different places around the world. Here are some of the things I bought in Amman, Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv-Yafo, and Istanbul (all prices converted to USD):

• Three falafel sandwiches and a 355 millilitre can of Diet Pepsi from Al Quds Falafel in Amman: $3.10

• Doppio from the Franciscans’ Casa Nova Palace in Bethlehem: $2.74

• Bus ticket from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv-Yafo: $5.73

• Masabacha, two pitas, and a 330 millilitre can of Coke Zero from Hummus Abu Hassan in Tel Aviv-Yafo: $8.73

• Two pidesi and one combo with rice, Turkish-spiced seitan, and stewed vegetables from a vegan restaurant in Istanbul: $6.38

MARATHON MUSINGS

Some thoughts on freedom and the dirt patch lottery

I was strolling behind an old man in Palestine the other day.

And it got me thinking about movement and mobility and range of motion, and the conditions they require to thrive.

And the optimal condition is freedom.

There’s just no other way about it…

Unencumbered freedom,

To step and stretch and stride ourselves to elsewhere.

Now I’d wager that me and the old man were born on different patches of dirt.

Patches of dirt we didn’t choose, just patches of dirt that happened to receive us.

And because of that, me and the old man were assigned different pieces of paper at birth.

And in life, those different papers determine what other patches of dirt we can — or can’t — access.

And whether that access is easy or hard, permissible or impermissible.

And it is just so strange…

That two earthlings — both of this earth — differ in where we can go on this earth.

Two humans.

Two humans strolling.

Two humans strolling to different patches of dirt.

Two humans strolling to different patches of dirt entirely determined by their dirt patch papers.

And it is just so damn strange…

How much stock we put in abstract paper,

And how little stock we put in actual people.

Because of claims and dibs and hole-y holy texts that are ripe for bitter cherry picking.

And I can never make sense of it…

Because this free bird sings…

While that caged bird singes.

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