Leaky Con 2011

I have to start this post with a spoiler alert. If you have yet to read all seven of the Harry Potter novels (and no, watching all the movies does not count) please do not read beyond this paragraph. In this post I will be mentioning key plot points from the series and I would hate to ruin the wonderful "what happens next" feeling for anyone who has yet to read the Harry Potter saga for the first time.

The opening festivities of Leaky Con 2001 saw all 3000 conference attendees gathering for a multi media presentation on the Main Stage. We were welcomed by Melissa Anelli and before the presentation even started she announced that one lucky fan had been randomly selected to come up on stage to be part of the show. As the lucky winner bounded excitedly to the stage, her boyfriend stepped out from backstage and proceeded to propose to her.

Needless to say the overly excited, 85% female, crowd went crazy when she accepted the proposal and the room seemed to swell with joy as the official presentation began. A film documenting highlights from the last 15 years of the Harry Potter fandom was punctuated with live performances from the first ever wizard rock band, Harry and the Potters, Vlogbrother Hank Green and YouTube sensations the Potter Puppet Pals and Team Starkid. The live performances were so good that I started getting giddy when I thought about how awesome the next few days were going to be.

The only downside of Leaky Con was that, unless you were fortunate enough to posses your own time turner, you could only access a quarter of the total programming on offer. This was because everyday from 9 am until 6 pm there were at least 3 different lectures, discussions or activities programmed for each hour. As if this wasn't enough, there was also always some performance/event going on at the main stage for every hour of the day. Add to this the lure of the vendor room (which was filled with excellent fan created Harry Potter merchandise for sale) and you can begin to understand why Sarah and I didn't have time to eat during the first day!

Some Leaky Con discussions/events that I missed out on but would have attended if I owned a functioning time turner included:

*What imprinting, attachment, learning and magic teach us about survival in Harry Potter

*Jeopardy: Harry Potter and the Law

*Family Dynamics in the Harry Potter novels

*The books vs the movies: What was left out and why its important

*A writer's guide to Harry Potter

*Growing up Potter and the effects on the English classroom

*Casting your Patronus: The representation of mental processes in Harry Potter novels

*Twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches: Lessons from Ron's success with Hermoine

*Dance Against the Dark Arts: Exploring Harry Potter's world through dance

*Racism and Slavery in the Wizarding World

*Rowling's not so flawed plan: The elder wand as a symbol of masculine power and the importance of love between its masters

*That's how we do it in Gryffindor, bitches: Sorting in the Harry Potter fandom

*International Quidditch Association Demo Match. Universities in the USA have quidditch teams that regularly play against each other. In the muggle version there is no flying involved but it is very physical (one player lost a tooth in the demo match). The snitch is an actual person who gets a minute head start to run off and hide before the seekers can start looking for him/her.

There was so much going on that by day 3 of the conference attendees stopped asking each other "What has been your favourite part of Leaky Con so far?" and started getting more specific "What was your favourite part of Friday morning?".

Some of my favourite Leaky Con 2011 experiences were...

*Attending the "Why Fred?" discussion where I was able to talk to other fans about the great juxtaposition of comedy and tragedy that was created by the death of Fred Weasley in book 7.

*Being part of a 3000 person singalong of songs from "A Very Potter Musical" at the Team Starkid event.

*Hearing Evanna Lynch, a huge Harry Potter fan and the actress who plays Luna Lovegood in the movies, talk about the transition of book to film.

*Being there for live recordings of Leaky Mug and Pottercast.

*Getting to meet and talk to the hosts of Pottercast, the Harry Potter podcast I have been listening to for the last 3 years, and thanking them for the hundreds of hours of entertainment they have provided me with on my daily commutes to work.

*Hearing more about the fabulous work of the Harry Potter Alliance. HPA uses the Harry Potter saga to raise awareness of human rights issues amongst young people and through its fundraising efforts empowers young people to see how their efforts can result in real change in the world. HPA currently has over 100,000 members around the world and in 2010 raised $123,000 to send five plane loads of supplies for Partners in Health to Haiti.

*Seeing Deathly Hallows (Part 2) with a cinema full of serious Potter fans.

*Spending the next 3 days tearing apart the movie with serious Potter fans.

*Seeing the wonderful fan created "Final Battle" musical (which was rehearsed solely over skype!).

*Being part of a huge Nerdfighter gathering and getting to be in the opening of one of Hank Green's Vlogbrother videos.

*Hearing two amazing lectures from John Granger: "Writing In Circles - Harry Potter and the magic of ring composition" & "Harry Potter and the Metaphysical Center - A 'Theory of Everything' to Tie Together the Artistry and Meaning Driving Potter-Mania".

I think it is fair to say that, even amongst hard core Harry Potter fans, John Granger is considered to be a serious book nerd. His detailed analysis and expertise in unravelling the genius of J.K Rowling's work never ceases to impress me. As well as having my mind blown by his new thesis (the importance of ring composition in the Potter saga) I also bought a couple of his books and got to chat to him while he signed them for me! This was one of many so-good-I-must-be-dreaming-but-if-I-am-please-don't-wake-me nerd moments that I experienced at Leaky Con.

*A highlight amongst a week of highlights was getting a sneaky early peek at Pottermore, J.K Rowling's new online reading experience. We found out how we will be sorted as well as some of the layout and features of the site. Jo (another great thing about Leaky Con was that when you said "Jo" no one asked "Jo who?") had long ago discussed creating an encyclopedia of all things Potter that would include copious backstories of characters and subplots that never made it into the actual published saga. I was initially disappointed when I heard about Pottermore, as I suspected that the new site would take the place of the promised encyclopedia. I still think it is highly unlikely that the encyclopedia will be published, but I no longer care as even the tiny glimpse we got into Pottermore showed that it will be far superior to any mere encyclopedia.

I don't think the bloke from Pottermore quite knew what he was in for when he showed up to present to a room packed with 3000 serious Potter fans. At one point, to demonstrate what the layout would look like, he flashed a page with the backstory of Professor McGonagall onto the enormous screen. Three thousand people gasped, leant forward and began speed reading in unison. The presenter started to talk and 3000 people did not take their eyes off the screen as they rose in a single voice to "shush" him. This happened twice more before he had to turn off the screen to get our attention back to him.

*Dancing the night away at the Esther Earl Rocking Charity Ball - and the hilarity of having to go back to my room to get my passport so that I could purchase alcohol because the bartenders didn't believe me when I insisted I was over 21 (eleven years over 21!).

*The Wizard Rock concerts were the times I felt most connected to the extraordinary community that is the Harry Potter fandom. It was only at Leaky Con that a few thousand people could be singing along with Harry and the Potters as we swore to "Save Ginny Weasley from the basilisk" and not worry that we were weird for rocking out to a song about a book.

The leaving feast on the final morning of Leaky Con 2011 was a lovely way to end a hectic few days. It was announced at the leaving feast that, in addition to being loads of fun, Leaky Con 2011 had managed to raise over $120,000 for charity. I was completely exhausted but still shared the sentiment of all present: I really didn't want the conference to end. The ballroom was filled with large round tables and constant chatter as we all filled up on the breakfast buffet. In true Leaky Con style, I managed to make new friends in the last few hours of the conference. It didn't seem fair that we were still in the middle of excellent conversations as we were being ushered out of the building.

Still, when I think of Leaky Con the lasting memory is not the sadness of saying goodbye to Sarah.

For me, the lasting memory Leaky Con 2011 was how I felt singing along with Hank Green, and a few thousand of my new friends, to "Accio Deathly Hallows" at one of the Wizard Rock concerts. Madly jumping up and down, I saw wands raised in the air above the mosh pit and realised that what I was experiencing was not just happiness...but rather pure, unbridled joy.

P.S. For those of you waiting for information on the 'Wizarding World Of Harry Potter' theme park, fear not. The theme park will get its own post, and that is coming up next :-)

Nerd Nirvana

I've copped a fair bit of stick over the years for my love of all things related to Harry Potter. But this was nothing compared with the outright sniggers that met my declaration that during my year off work I would travel to Orlando Florida to spend 5 days at a Harry Potter fan conference.

"Do you have to dress up?"

"Aren't you a bit old to like Harry Potter?"

"Won't it just be a big gathering of nerds?"

My answers to these questions from my friends were:

"Not unless you want to"

"Absolutely not" and

"Of course! But what's wrong with that?"

The subtext of the third question is something that has interested me for quite a while. The idea that any "normal" person would not want to associate themselves with an activity that is considered to be "nerdy" is a popular one in our culture. To those who like to think of themselves as too cool to be called a nerd, I'd like to share author (and Vlogbrother) John Green's ideas on the matter. He said that, essentially, to be a nerd is just to be really, really openly enthusiastic about something.

When you think of "nerd" as a synonym for "enthusiast" it seems like most people are a nerd of some variety or another. And thank goodness they are, because what a mind numbingly boring existence it would be if there was no enthusiasm in the world. I know people who are music nerds, theatre nerds, computer nerds (geeks), Australian poetry nerds, vintage car nerds, craft nerds, rock climbing nerds, film nerds, scrapbooking nerds, political nerds, surfing nerds, gardening nerds, rugby league nerds, photography nerds and (of course!) book nerds.

So what was this crazy Harry Potter conference called Leaky Con anyway?

When I said I was going to attend a Harry Potter conference, many people wondered why it wasn't in the UK. The simple fact is that no other country in the world can match the USA for boundless enthusiasm. Before Leaky Con 2011, there had already been 10 Harry Potter conferences in the USA dating back to Nimbus in 2003.

In 2009 my favourite Harry Potter fan website, 'The Leaky Cauldron', decided to run its own conference in Boston. I have been listening to the weekly podcasts from the Leaky Cauldron, appropriately named Pottercast, since 2008. I desperately wanted to go - but no money and the fact that I'd just started a new job kept me from attending. After seeing videos online and listening to podcasts about the first Leaky Con, I was devastated. It sounded like an amazing celebration and I really felt I had missed the best Harry Potter conference that had ever been run. Then a miracle occurred....

The Leaky Cauldron announced that it would be running another fan conference in 2011. Leaky Con 2011 would be held right next door to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park in Orlando and it would be held on the weekend that the final film was coming out. It was like the stars had aligned. I didn't know where I would be traveling during the rest of 2011, but from 2009 I knew that I would spend the middle of July 2011 in Florida.

Since they announced Leaky Con 2011, the organisers had been slowly releasing more and more details about the conference. My excitement was growing exponentially with each new detail. Every great wizard rock band was going to be performing, the Potter Puppet Pals were going to be there, Team Starkid were going to be there, The vlogbrothers were going to be there, John Granger was going to be lecturing, there would be a special Pottermore presentation AND.... Just when it couldn't get any better for a book nerd..... The organisers announced that on the day before Leaky Con started they would be running a young adult fiction literary festival called Lit Day!!!!

As I hopped into a minibus that would take me from Orlando airport to the Royal Pacific Resort on Tuesday the 12th of July, I was quite nervous. In some ways two years of build up was too much. I decided that Leaky Con couldn't possible live up to my expectations and was just talking myself into trying to enjoy whatever the week held instore for me when I saw them. Two young women were boarding the minibus and they were wearing T-shirts that said 'Dumbledore's Army'.

"Um... Are you guys going to Leaky Con?" I asked

"YES! ARE YOU?"

Then others joined in our excited conversation and we soon realised that 10 of the 12 people on the bus were in Orlando just for Leaky Con. Within seconds we were all yabbering away about what we were most looking forward to, our favourite podcasts, our fears for how they would butcher the last movie and when we saw Hogwarts Castle in the distance... all hell broke loose. It was then that my worries melted away and I began to suspect that Leaky Con may just meet my expectations after all.

There were some ticketing issues at the start of Lit Day but the long queues gave me time to meet more Harry Potter fans, so I wasn't all that worried. I'd always rather suspected that it wasn't possible to be a serious fan of the Harry Potter books and not be a good person - and every single person I chatted to in those lines confirmed my theory. There were teenagers attending with parent chaperones, many college students, a lot of people in their twenties and some older fans such as myself. I know it sounds like a cliche but at Leaky Con age, looks, nationality - none of it mattered in the face of a shared devotion to all things Potter. Leaky Con was my Mecca.

I love a literature festival (surprise!) and Lit Day was exceptional. Wonderful, hilarious authors talking about characterisation, plotting as well as the ins and outs of the editing and publishing process. In one of the panel discussions the authors were discussing their favourite novels and as they mentioned titles such as The Great Gatsby, The Catcher in the Rye and Pride and Prejudice the thousand or so people in the audience cheered loudly for their own favourite title. It was a bit like Superbowl for book nerds.

Early on Lit Day I had the very good fortune of sitting down next to a lovely Potter fan from Scotland. Sarah and I had both travelled great distances on our own to attend and soon realised that we had much in common. The highlight of Lit Day for me, apart from meeting the wonderful Sarah, was attending a discussion called "I was a teenage author". In this panel authors such as John Green, Stephanie Perkins and David Levithan read out some of their own teenage writing....and it was more hilarious than any stand up comedy performance I have ever attended.

Lit Day ended with a keynote speech from Arthur Levine, the american publisher of the Harry Potter novels at Scholastic, and then a cocktail party where I got to discuss plotting and character development with David Levithan! I was in total nerd nirvana and Leaky Con had not even officially started yet.

Graffiti and guard towers

I must admit that by the time I boarded the bus for the short trip from East Jerusalem to Bethlehem I had been influenced by the frequent travel warnings about the West Bank that had been flooding my inbox for the past few weeks.

My recent experiences in Syria taught me that DFAT's travel advisories are often based on limited information from events that occurred more than three weeks earlier and are generally ridiculously over cautious. I know that travel advisories have to warn of worst possible scenarios. But given that the advice for pretty much every country in the world now includes the phrase "possible threat of terrorist attack", DFAT may want to consider changing the name of their website from 'Smart Traveller' to 'Scared Traveller'.

That said when the phrase "possible threat of terrorist attack" is mentioned in reference to the West Bank, you do tend to take it more seriously than when it is mentioned in the travel advice for Tasmania. In the end, I decided that the best course of action was just to go there and suss out the situation for myself. If I got to Bethlehem and felt uncomfortable I could just do what most other travelers do and treat it as a day trip. If I felt OK in Bethlehem I could use it as a base to explore the West Bank for a few days.

As it turned out the word that best describes how I felt in Bethlehem was not scared, but rather welcomed.

The constant low level tension that I had felt in Jerusalem melted away in the face of the warm hospitality constantly on display from the local Palestinians. When I was trying to find the main bus station in Jerusalem, four different individuals pretended they didn't hear me, looked straight through me and did not break stride in their haste to avoid offering assistance. When I was trying to find the Shepherds' Fields just outside of Bethlehem, I was offered assistance from eight different individuals including a Palestinian army officer who took it upon himself to stop several passing cars to ask the drivers for directions!

Due to the fact that most people visit Bethlehem as part of a day trip from Jerusalem, there was plenty of room at the inn when I booked into the Bethlehem Star Hotel. The fact that I only saw one other guest in the five floor hotel during my stay made me wonder how the place stays open - but I suspect they might be fully booked around the end of December each year.

Bethlehem itself is a lovely town perched atop a rocky hill and has a skyline filled, as you would expect, with church spires. What you may not expect is that the most beautiful church in town is not the one that marks the (supposed) location of the birth of Jesus Christ. Indeed to enter the Church of the Nativity you don't amble under gilded arches, but rather duck through a small stone doorway. Once inside, stairs behind the alter lead you underground to the Grotto of the Nativity. The Grotto is a small cramped chapel and if it wasn't for the steady stream of tourists I would have had no idea of the location's significance. I think I probably would have felt more spiritually moved in a local stable. I mean would it kill them to throw some hay on the Grotto floor to get visitors in the mood?

Highlight #2467 for my travels so far was seeing the amazing graffiti on the much hated security wall just outside of Bethlehem. The enormous concrete structure that the Israelis built to separate Israel from the West Bank is completely illegal and is also a blatant land grab as it encroaches significantly on Palestinian lands. On the Israeli side the high grey walls are almost completely bare. But on the Palestinian side the wall has become a gallery for local artists and activists to creatively express their rage. The works vary from detailed stencil graffiti to rough spray painted slogans, but the message conveyed is the same. I love the way that the Palestinians have used an intrusive object, placed on their lands to imprison them, into a billboard to showcase their dissent.

I spent a large portion of my time in the West Bank riding in shared taxis as I visited Ramallah, Nablus and Jericho. As we barreled over rocky hilltops and sped through olive groves I kept my eye open for the Israeli settlements I had heard so much about. Before I arrived in the West Bank, I had wondered how I would be able to tell the difference between a regular Palestinian town and an Israeli settlement. I needn't have worried as the Israeli settlements stuck out like a mariachi band at a meditation retreat.

The Israeli settlements that I saw all looked like stepford housing developments with hundreds of identical townhouses huddled together on a hilltop. The main difference between an Israeli settlement and the standard Meriton horror that you see in most Australian capital cities is that the Israeli settlements also have structures that look like air traffic control towers in the middle of them for security purposes. If you somehow failed to notice the walled compound look, the dramatic improvement in the condition of the roads leading up to the settlements would also be a pretty good giveaway that you were not approaching a regular Palestinian town.

I found Jericho to be far more biblically atmospheric than Bethlehem. The Mount of Temptation, just outside of Jericho, is supposed to mark the location where the Devil appeared to tempt Jesus after he had fasted for 40 days and 40 nights in the Judean desert. The view from the mount stretches across the hazy desert to the Dead Sea. It is a stunningly barren landscape. Given that I was close to delirious with heat stroke after spending just 40 minutes on the mount (and that Jesus probably didn't get the cable car to the top like I did) - I can understand why he thought he saw the Devil up there. My temptation did not take the form of Lucifer, but rather an icy pole and a cold bottle of water. And, unlike Jesus, I was too weak to resist.

After nine hectic days, my time in Israel came to an end. I had only one more hurdle to overcome before I could head off on my own pilgrimage to Florida... Israeli airport security.

I won't detail all the components that made up the most frustrating five hours of my life, but I will say this... emptying the contents of a pack that took more than a day to zip up - and then getting uppity when the lowly backpacker takes more than twenty minutes to repack it - is not a way to make friends. The Israeli security staff were bloody lucky that I managed to make my flight. Because if they think they have a problem with the Palestinians - it would have been nothing compared to the rage that I would have rained down on them had their ineptitude kept me from a Harry Potter conference that I had been waiting two years to attend.

Let's go fly a kite!

On my third day in Jerusalem, ever eager to take in more history, I set off to visit two exceptional museums: Yad Vashem & the Israel Museum.

Located amid a forest on the outskirts of the city, Yad Vashem is an incredibly moving memorial to the millions of victims of the Nazi Holocaust. The amazing artifacts, archival footage and audio visual displays combine to overwhelm visitors with evidence that humans are capable of almost unimaginable horrors. The Children's Memorial, with its single candle light refracted through mirrors in a dark room so that its image is projected millions of times to represent the young lives lost in the Holocaust, was particularly moving.

Though I learnt a lot at Yad Vashem, and firmly believe that humanity as a whole would benefit if every person on the planet visited the museum, there was one aspect of the site that unnerved me slightly. The Holocaust museum is arranged in such a way that you weave your way down a literal timeline towards a decked exit that overlooks the forest. The displays at the end of the journey, documenting the zionists struggles to establish a Jewish state at the end of World War II, combined with the architectural design all communicate a very persuasive narrative. Namely that you the visitors, like the Jewish people, have gone  through the darkness to the light. That the only way to begin to redress the terrible, terrible wrongs done to the Jewish people was to give them the state of Israel.

After spending more than three hours vividly reliving the horrors of the Holocaust I'm sure that most visitors to Yad Vashem come to that deck and think "Yeah, you know what - they earnt this land. The least the world could do after all they suffered was to give the 'chosen people' a country of their own". That would have been all well and good had the land been empty. But Palestine was not empty at the end of World War II. As I stood on that deck looking across the tree tops of Israel I couldn't help wondering if the world might take a different view of troubles in the region if the Palestinians had their own memorial museum.

The collections on show at the Israel Museum are so extensive that you could easily spend a week exploring the museum's archeological displays, Jewish cultural displays, art galleries and sculpture gardens. Having said that, there was no way that I was going to fork over the hefty entry fee more than once so I instead tried to take in all that I could in one 4 hour marathon session.

The information and artifacts on offer in the archeological section comprehensively cover the most recent 5000 years of Israel's history, not to mention three floors of the museum, and were a tad overwhelming for someone like me whose formal education in history ended in year eight of high school.

An exhibition in the modern art gallery that I found particularly evocative was called 'Sands of Time'. The artist, Micha Ullman, had covered much of the gallery floor with sand and various sculptures and formations appeared to break through the desert sands to emerge on the surface. After three hours of intense cultural immersion it was a relief to wander through the stunning sculpture gardens on my way to the museum's main attraction.

For a book nerd like myself, a display called the 'Shrine of the Book' is a natural drawcard. The external design of the shrine is architecturally magnificent and appropriately symbolic for the location where the Dead Sea Scrolls are housed. Honestly the only way I could have enjoyed the shrine more would be if they added a wing focusing on 'Libraries Through the Ages' with a special section on the history of the sliding ladder.

After spending the day wading through Israel's history it felt good to take in a bit of modern day Israel in front of the Damascus Gate at sunset. As the temperature cools in the early evening, shopkeepers pack up for the day while families and friends take in the fresh air before heading home for dinner. Orthodox jews, catholic nuns and devout muslims mingle as they head out of the old city, carefully negotiating their way through the multiple soccer games that are underway on the stone terraces that stand between the Damascus Gate and greater Jerusalem. Local arabic boys fly kites overhead and the scene would be quite idyllic if the kites weren't in the shape of fighter jets and weren't covered in camouflage print nylon.  Still I can't help thinking that as long as Palestinian teenagers are still able to fly their kites over Jerusalem there is still some hope for peaceful cohabitation in this troubled country.

A strange place for an agnostic

I've written in a previous post about the fact that an Israeli stamp in your passport prevents entry to many middle eastern countries and that this results in the situation where most backpackers visit Israel last on their travels in the region.

In some ways I think it is unfortunate that most backpackers only visit Israel after exploring countries like Syria and Lebanon. I know that I arrived in Israel with more baggage than just my 20 kilo pack. Conversations with Palestinians in Jordan, NGO staffers working in refugee camps in Lebanon and Syrians with family members forced out of the Golan Heights had left me with a decidedly negative view of Israel.

Further reading on the troubled history of the region, though making me more aware of the amazingly complex interplay of factors that lead to the establishment of the Jewish state, did little to diminish the strength of my belief that the establishment of the state of Israel was a monumental mistake.

One statistic that really struck me was that under the partition of (then) Palestine, passed by the general assembly of the United Nations in 1947, 37% of the population (Jewish) were given 55% of the land - of which they only owned 7% at the time! It is also worth noting that the land awarded to the Jews in the partition consisted of the prime agricultural lands, such as the Coastal Plain and Jordan Valley, while the Palestinians had been left with the comparatively bare and hilly parts of (then) Palestine. In light of all this, it is not hard to understand why the Palestinians considered themselves to be particularly hard done by under the plan.

Like many travelers to Israel I began my explorations in the nation's historically rich and politically disputed capital, Jerusalem. The capital has three very distinct parts, each with its own unique character. The modern architecture and state of the art infrastructure make the Israeli New City (West Jerusalem) easily discernible from the stall lined streets of the predominantly Arab enclave of East Jerusalem. The real drawcard of the city though is the ancient walled Old City which contains some of the most important Christian, Jewish & Muslim sites in the world.

Wandering around the Old City in Jerusalem I was struck most by the veritable melting pot of pilgrims, representing many different religions and at least 50 different countries, local Jews and Arabs that I encountered. All of the pilgrims appeared to be excited and moved to be in a place of such profound importance to them. In addition to the locals and pilgrims, the Old City was full of non-religious travelers like myself who appeared to be excited and moved to be in a place that had been of such profound importance to so many people over thousands of years. Add into this mix a significant number of armed teenagers, in the form of the Israeli military, as well as a plethora of tacky tourist shops selling T-shirts saying "Super Jew" you start to get an inkling of the incredible diversity on show in the old city.

On my first day in the Old City I orientated myself by walking along the top of the 16th century stone ramparts from the Jaffa Gate right around to the Lion's gate. The walk really helped me in identifying the visual differences between the Old City's Jewish, Muslim, Christian and Armenian quarters. Catching glimpses of the glittering gold Dome of the Rock between rooftop gardens, church spires and satellite dishes certainly helped to build my anticipation for visiting the sacred site.

Metal detectors and bag searches are a sad necessity on the approaches to both the Western (Wailing) Wall and the Temple Mount. The last remanent of Judaism's holiest shrine, the Second Temple, the Western Wall was built 2000 years ago as a retaining wall to support the Temple Mount. The area in front of the wall now forms an open air synagogue and is split into separate sections for men and women.

On the day I visited there wasn't any wailing, pilgrims were instead engaging in intense prayer with their hands reaching out to touch the sacred wall. Some people wrote their prayers on tiny scraps of paper and tried to squeeze their missives into cracks in the wall, an act that is supposed to increase the likelihood of prayers being heard. Given that pilgrims have been partaking in this practice for at least the last 40 years, it shouldn't come as a great surprise that those who were successful in wedging their prayers into the wall had to stand on plastic chairs to achieve the feat. It seems that God favours persistence.

As I wandered amongst the cyprus trees in the stone plaza of the Temple Mount I kept oscillating between two opposing thoughts. On the one hand it was lovely to see people of all different faiths rejoicing at walking around the location that Muslims believe is where Mohammed ascended to heaven and that Jews believe is where the foundation stone of the world is located. On the other hand it is staggering to think of how many lives across millennia have been lost in conflict over a, admittedly deeply historic, small piece of land. It is difficult to imagine that God or Allah would be happy with how history has played out in the region.

Come with me please...

When I boarded my flight from Istanbul to Tel Aviv on Sunday, I knew there was a pretty good chance that that the Israeli immigration officials I would shortly meet were not going to love me. It turned out I was only partially correct on that front. They didn't really take the time to get to know me - but they did not love the stamps in my passport.

For those of you unfamiliar with travel in the middle east - let me enlighten you about the visa situation with Israel. Many arabic countries in the region are not very happy with Israel (they actually don't recognise that the state of Israel has the right to exist) and will not allow you to enter their country if you have visited Israel. Countries that fall into this category include Iran, Iraq, Lebanon & Syria.

This means that travellers planning to visit Israel and any of the countries listed above must travel to Israel last, as I am. The trouble is that the ill feeling between the countries listed above and Israel is mutual. Though the Israeli government does not have a blanket policy of denying entry to travellers who, for arguments sake, have visited Syria - they have been known to deny travellers entry to Israel for this reason.

Given the fact that I spent two weeks in Syria, two weeks in Lebanon and then a further four weeks in Syria earlier this year - I was expecting to get questioned and knew that there was a very real possibility that I would not be allowed into Israel. Following the notion that good luck is when opportunity meets preparation, I spent much of the short flight from Turkey preparing my answers for the Israeli immigration officials. I memorised the dates I had visited countries and planned a fictional itinerary for my time in Israel that did not include any visits to the West Bank.

I was quite calm as I left the plane, but when a young man was detained as we entered the terminal I couldn't stop a scene that I had recently read in the autobiography "Son of Hamas" from bursting forward into my consciousness. The Palestinian author was detained for questioning by the Israeli Defence Forces (IDF) for months on end. To encourage him to talk, the IDF made him crouch on a tiny chair day in, day out with his hands tied behind his back. The author was not allowed to sleep, move, talk or do anything at all except for 5 minutes a day when he was permitted to leave the chair to eat and use the bathroom.

Eventually the moment of truth came as I handed my passport over to a young woman at the immigration counter. That was when the questions started:

"You were in Syria?"
"Yes."

Long pause....

"You were in Lebanon?"
"Yes."

Long pause....

The questioning continued as I was asked what my occupation is and had to explain how I was funding my travels. After more questioning about how long I was planning to stay in Israel there was another very long pause...Then I heard the blessed stamping sound and was handed my passport and a slip of paper as my interrogator said 'Welcome to Israel'.

I was in! Yay! I was still grinning like a fool when I handed my passport to the official at the next gate in front of the baggage claim area. He handed my passport to another female immigration official nearby - who then proceded to utter the phrase I least wanted to hear:

"Come with me please."

I then had to sit on the naughty chair just off to the side of the baggage claim area with the other undesirables. This really was cruel and unusual punishment as while we waited to discover our fate we got to watch all the other travellers casually breezing through the checkpoint before confidently heading off to claim their bags. Lucky bastards.

The woman sitting next to me did not inspire a great deal of confidence. Rivers of mascara trickled down her face as she sobbed quietly. The woman tried to talk to me, but she didn't speak English and I was relieved as I didn't think talking to others (who could be caught up in God only knows what trouble) was a very good idea in my situation. I understood the situation was out of my control and was determined to remain calmly detatched - unless I saw any tiny chairs in which case I had given myself full permission to collapse into the foetal position.

After 10 minutes the officer beckoned me over to a quiet corner of the baggage claim area for round two of questioning. She was far more skilled than my earlier interrogator and was soon trying to trip me up by presenting slightly inaccurate versions of my travels for me to confirm. Two could play at this game - I matched her friendly tone as I calmly corrected her version of events several times. I was repeatedly asked the same questions, including:

"Did you meet friends there?"
"You travelled there alone?"
"You visited Syria?"
"For what purpose?"
"You visited Lebanon?"
"For what purpose?"

After 20 minutes of this she switched to questions about the bigger picture:

"Do you have a particular interest in the middle east?"
"Yes. It is a fascinating part of the world."

"So you could travel anywhere in the world this year (I had explained my year off work with the deferred salary scheme) and you chose, of your own freewill, to travel to Syria?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I enjoy learning about other cultures and seeing Roman ruins. That does not mean I agree with the political stance of their government"
"I understand. We need to collect your bags now so that we can search them."

Once I collected my pack I followed the official through an unmarked door into a baggage search room with a few undesirables I has not seen earlier. A (different) woman was sobbing hysterically and I couldn't help thinking, once I established that there were no tiny chairs in the vicinity, that she was overeating a bit to having her bags searched and tested for traces of explosives.

After my big pack and daypack were x-rayed, I heard the dreaded phrase "Come with me please" again and I was lead to a separate room with a new female officer. I was not looking forward to the rubber glove treatment - but fortunately I just had to walk through a metal detector (something that I would become very accustomed to during my time in Jerusalem).

Finally, 45 minutes after I first handed my passport over to the lady at the counter, I was free to go. I had to restrain myself from sprinting as I headed out into the arrivals terminal. It was only when the shuttle bus I boarded pulled out from the kerb that I began to relax...I had made it...I was in...Welcome to Israel.

Scrub a dub dub

I believe I stated ın a prevıous post that, in my experience, you are never more vulnerable as a backpacker than during your first taxi ride in any new location. Recent events have caused me to change my mınd on that score. I can now say, from personal experıence, that you never feel more vulnerable as a backpacker than when you fınd yourself nearly naked and partıally blınd ın publıc.

I had been consıderıng the ıdea of vısıtıng a hamam, or bathhouse, ever sınce I arrıved ın the Mıddle East. However I never got around to ıt ın Damascus and the hammam I had a look at ın Aleppo dıd not appear all that hygienic. So when we were afforded a rare "free day" on the tour ın Goreme, I decıded ıt was tıme to fork over the cash and get the deluxe bathıng treatment.

Upon arrıvıng (and payıng) I was ıssued wıth a plastıc wrıst band and dırected downstaırs to the "women's sectıon". I was pleasantly surprısed by the luxurıous spa-lıke atmosphere I encountered after descendıng the staırs and ıt was a mınute or so before I saw anyone. Eventually a woman saıd somethıng to me ın Turkısh, poınted to the locker key on my wrıst band, and dırected me towards a changeroom.

The lovely changeroom was completely empty, so I had no one wıth whom to confer about the correct etiquette relatıng to the contents of my locker. My locker contaıned a pınk plastıc paır of thongs and a large tea towel. Conversatıons wıth other travellers had alerted me to the fact that dress codes at hamams varıed consıderably. I knew that ın some hamams foreıgn women wore swımmers, ın some hamams they provıded you wıth dısposable swımmers and ın some everyone opted for the traditional dress code of beıng naked except for a cloth provıded. Gıven that I knew the hamam experıence would at some poınt ınvolve a vıgorous scrubbıng, I had elected not to brıng my swımmers as I dıdn't want them to get wrecked (and I also dıdn't want to look lıke a western prude who couldn't embrace a lovely local cultural tradıtıon).

That ıs how I ended up hoverıng near the door of the changeroom naked except for the pınk thongs and a large tea towel. I had, of course, also removed my glasses and now found that though I could make out the outlıne of a fıgure standıng at the other end of the lobby I could not see where she was gesturıng for me to go. Askıng "Um, where do I go now?" also dıdn't ımprove the sıtuatıon as the reply came ın Turkısh. So I was left wıth no other optıon than to shuffle across the lobby, keepıng a tıght hold on my tea towel, untıl I was close enough (about a metre and a half away) to see where the lady was poıntıng.

I thınk she thought I was completely mentally handıcapped by thıs poınt- because from then on she lead me around by the hand and kept pattıng my arm reassurıngly. I was lead to a seat ın the lobby where a tag was removed from my wrıstband and my face was paınted wıth mud. I was then lead ınto a beautıful marble hot room. The cırcular hot room had a large octagonal raısed marble platform ın the mıddle and was surrounded by marble basıns and a seatıng ledge. I had been told by my aıde that I would have to steam myself for 15 mınutes. As I went to sıt down on a nearby ledge to steam, ıt became apparent that I had agaın mısunderstood as I was soon lead to another doorway. I had assumed that the steamıng would occur ın the hot room - but no - there was an even hotter sauna ın whıch I was supposed to steam myself.

Now the hot room felt to me to be about the temperature of a normal sauna. The sauna felt lıke I had taken a wrong turn and wandered through the gates of hell. It was so hot that I felt the skın on the back of my thıghs burnıng through my tea towel as I gıngerly perched on the edge of a wooden bench. I trıed to lean back and relax but I was worrıed that the scorchıng hot wooden bench would leave grıll marks ıf ıt came ınto contact wıth my bare shoulders. I wasn't alone ın my burnıng hot agony. An amerıcan woman ın her swımmers commented "thıs has been the longest 10 mınutes of my lıfe" as I entered. A mınute later she saıd "I can't take thıs anymore" and burst out ınto the (relatıve) coolness of the hotroom.

I wanted to get the most out of the experıence but also realısed, after only a mınute ın the sauna, that I wasn't sweatıng so much as meltıng. I felt lıke my entıre body was liquefying. I raısed a shaky hand to the top of my head and my haır felt lıke ıt had been burnt to a crısp. Just as I was about to pass out, a woman came ın and offered me a bottle of cold water. If I wasn't so dehydrated I would have wept wıth gratıtude. The water got me through another few mınutes before I too had to gıve up and burst out ınto the hotroom. My aıde found me and lead me by the arm to a shower room where I was supposed to wash off the mud mask and sweat before she scrubbed me.

Nothıng ın my entıre lıfe has ever felt as wonderful as that cold shower!

I was then lead to the seatıng ledge next to a basın and quıckly strıpped of my tea towel before the vıgorous scrubbıng started. Once I decıded to shut my eyes and ıgnore the varıous women wanderıng past to get to the sauna, I started to forget that I was completely starkers ın publıc and just enjoyed beıng buffed wıthın an ınch of my lıfe. After the scrubbıng I was lead to the warm marble platform ın the mıddle of the hotroom and told to lay down. The fact that I was half blınd came ın quıte handy durıng thıs part of the bathıng experıence. I fınd it helps not to be able to see other people's faces when you are havıng your entıre naked body massaged ın the mıddle of the room!

After the massage I had another shower, and was wrapped ın new tea towels, before I was lead back to the changeroom. Once I got over my own embarrassment, I really enjoyed the whole hamam experıence. Apart from feelıng pampered, and ıncredıbly clean, I also felt very well cared for. There was somethıng almost motherly ın the attıtudes of the women workıng at the hamam and, for once ın my travels, I dıdn't have to thınk twıce before leavıng a bıg tıp.

P.S. That's ıt for the posts from Turkey folks. I'm lookıng forward to 9 days ın Israel now before I make my way to Orlando. If ınternet access ın Israel ıs as expensıve as the LP claıms, I probably won't update the blog there. Gıven how busy I'll be ın Orlando - you may not hear from me agaın untıl late July. Only 10 more sleeps untıl LeakyCon!!!!!