When roadtripping the Garden Route, it is a necessity to stop and view the suspension bridges located within Tsitsikamma National Park. Tsitsikamma is a Khoisan word meaning “place of much water.” The color of the water is exceptional, and the power of the waves is captivating. We moseyed to the suspension bridges (25 person capacity) and enjoyed walking across the shaking bridges.
Travelers Tip: Don’t do the Lookout Hike on the other side of the bridge. It’s an entirely vertical hike, and the view from the top is below expectation.
The Lookout Hike is a good workout if you enjoy baking in the sun while exerting yourself. On our way down from the hike, I unfortunately hurt my knee and had trouble walking. We had planned on doing the 6km waterfall hike, the first day of the Otter Trail, but my throbbing knee left us unable to complete it. Either which way, Tsitsikamma is a nice place to sit on a bench and watch the waves, or to grab an appetizer with a view.
Travelers Tip: If you use the word “appetizer” while ordering, you’re likely to be given an “appletizer,” which is a sparkling apple juice. Instead, say you’d like a starter.
I slept restlessly that night and woke up around 5am to check the time. A text showed up from my mother saying that David and I might need to re-think heading back to Jerusalem later that afternoon. When I asked why, she sent me a link to an article: “Palestinians shooting into Israel. Israel retaliating by attacking 20 terror sites. Alarms being set off in Jerusalem.” Fantastic (please note the sarcasm). We spent the morning trying to figure out where would be the safest place for us to go, if Jerusalem was out of the question. We had decided to go to Sinai then Tel Aviv, but after much consideration we opted to head back to Jerusalem as planned.
With that figured out, we went downstairs for yummy breakfast. The Eilat Youth Hostel definitely has the best breakfast spread I have ever seen at a hostel. We hailed a cab and headed toward Dolphin Reef. The cab driver was so friendly and we chatted the entire time. I told him that I want to come back and work on a Kibbutz and he said that after a week of working on one I’d call home saying, “Mommy come get me. It’s too harddddd.” It was hilarious and we had quite the laugh. Upon entering Dolphin Reef, we were struck by its beauty. It was virtually empty when we arrived, so it was just us, the glistening water, and the dolphins.
It really was quite a unique area. The snorkeling was a major letdown and a waste of time, but oh well.
We spent the rest of the day relaxing (and unintentionally frying) on the beautiful beach, and made our final decision to catch the 4:45pm bus back to Jerusalem. We left Dolphin Reef, grabbed a quick falafel, and caught the four and a half hour bus. We stayed at the oh-so-fabulous Abraham Hostel in Jerusalem, watched some of the USA World Cup game in the overcrowded and rambunctious common area, and passed out for a few hours.
We spent our final day in Jordan off-roading in Wadi Rum, the largest wadi (valley) in Jordan. Wadi Rum has been largely occupied by the Bedouins who, until recent years, led nomadic lives. The valley is home to huge rock formations, temples, rock bridges, and ancient inscriptions. Ali drove like a maniac throughout this deserted valley – driving vertically up thin, narrow rock bridges, flying down sand dunes, and everything in between. Even though I consistently thought we were going to flip over, it was a ton of fun and the landscapes were beautiful.
After a delicious lunch of salad, chicken, spicy peppers, and hummus (prepared by another guide in the middle of the desert), we headed back to the Israeli border where we had some good laughs with the border personnel.
Once successfully across the border in Israel, we asked our driver to be taken to the Desert Eco Tours office to place a complaint about our guide, Ali. The man we spoke with was completely unsympathetic, shrugged me off, and said someone would be in touch within a few hours. No one called. Fast-forward – I spoke with the Owner of the company the following day and he didn’t see an issue with the fact that we were harassed in a canyon, despite the fact that we paid for a local guide to ensure that that wouldn’t happen. I do NOT recommend using Desert Eco Tours for your next trip to Jordan (with the exception of their Petra day trip) as they were not only unprofessional, but they didn’t seem to care that our safety was at risk, not only in the canyon, but also when our so-called guide was texting and swerving while driving 90mph/144.8kph on not-so-great roads. Desert Eco Tours did, however, acknowledge that the texting and driving was not of the norm.
We wandered around Eilat for a little bit before settling into our hostel for the night. While laying in bed, we found out that the three missing Israeli teenagers were found murdered. Heavy news and a heavy reality to have witnessed, as we were there from the beginning to end of their search. RIP Gilad, Eyal, and Naftali.
We awoke to a beautiful view of the Dead Sea and drove to the entrance of Wadi Mujib. Our guide decided not to tell us that we would get soaking wet, so we spent a few minutes scrambling to waterproof our bags. We put on the mandatory life jackets and started hiking. Within a minute, we climbed down a ladder straight into the water in the middle of the canyon walls. In knee-high water we began walking through the canyon, figuring that we were about to have a refreshing and relaxing morning hike. Refreshing, yes. Relaxing, not so much. Next thing we knew, we rounded a corner and realized that we would be hiking against (and up and over) rapids. While it was a blast, it was quite challenging on my hurt shoulders. Thank goodness for my fabulous brother who helped lift me up and pull me over some of the boulders (no thanks to our guide, Ali, who pretty much ignored us).
The water finally started to calm, and we figured that we must have looped and reached the end somehow. Then, we heard what sounded like immense, powerful rapids. Uh-oh. Instead, we turned the corner to find a beautiful waterfall between the canyon walls. We threw our lifejackets to the side and decided to go swim in the waterfall. The power of the falls felt incredible on my very sore shoulders. We crossed under the waterfall and found a small cave; we sat in it and looked out through the waterfall. After a bit of relaxing and free massage therapy, we decided it was time to head to our next destination. We slid down some slippery rocks with the rapids, subsequently getting sucked under the water every few minutes. Since we were going with the current, we later laid on our backs and let the current carry us down the canyon while we floated – so much easier! Even though we were soaked, the minute we exited the water-filled canyon we were dripping with sweat. It was that hot.
We took a short drive to Wadi Hisa for our second canyon hike of the day. Our guide manically drove us through the ins and outs of the canyon so fast that we were fearful that we would collide with the canyon walls. I opened my car door into water up to my thighs! Ali told us that he had to stay in the car to watch our luggage because it wasn’t safe to leave them unattended in an empty car. That should have been our warning sign.
At the time, David and I thought nothing of it and were happy to have some time away from the miserable Ali. We trekked through the water for about ten minutes before we felt like a man was following us. David thought I was being paranoid and that we should give the man the benefit of the doubt. We did. We slowed down and he passed us, but then we heard a group of village teenagers approaching us from behind. They went ahead of us, whispered something to the man in front of us, and began to circle us. They shouted and we ignored their shouts. They asked if we were Israeli. They asked what we were doing. They asked where we were going. Each time, they got closer and closer. At this point we were uncomfortable – we had money, passports, smartphones, and cameras on our bodies – and decided to turn around calmly and head back to the car. They followed us.
Despite trying to avoid a straight path by climbing behind and over various boulders, our scurrying had nothing on the Jordanians. It was, in fact, an environment to which they were accustomed. When one of the guys poked me, that’s when I knew we had to keep moving. We tried to gain speed as they closed in on us. After what felt like ages, we rounded our final bend before reaching the car. A sense of relief overwhelmed us, that is, until we realized our car doors were locked and Ali was not in the car. A few seconds later we saw him praying in a canyon cave. He looked up and saw the boys yelling at us. Ali instantly unlocked the car doors and started screaming at the boys in Arabic. We’re lucky to have been unharmed, but it was too bad that we were unable to explore another beautiful canyon.
Happy to be in a car, we drove about half an hour to a lookout over some of Jordan’s canyons. Here, we ate a disgusting fly-infested lunch…or at least tried to.
It was time to head back to Petra for the night. Along the way, we stopped to look at Jordan’s largest archeological reserve from above. People say that the reserve is 6,000-8,000 years old. The far end of the reserve houses copper mines that King David and King Solomon used way back when.
Ali drove 90 mph (144.8 kph) all the way to Petra on narrow, windy, rocky roads. We arrived in Petra at 3pm and spent the rest of the afternoon unwinding from our eventful, stressful afternoon.
We woke up early to head to Jerash, located in Northern Jordan near the Syrian border. After spending almost four hours in the car going in and out of sleep, we arrived at the site of the ruins of the Greco-Roman city of Gerasa (modern day Jerash), which was founded in 2000 BC.
Once considered part of the Decropolis, Jerash is the only one of those cities whose streets you can wander; it is the perfect example of what a Roman city used to look like, considered by many to be one of the best preserved sites of Roman architecture in the world (outside of Italy). In fact, only 40% of Jerash has been uncovered, while the other 60% remains beneath the soil. This town felt like a Roman village. From the earthquake-proof Corinthian columns, to Hadrian’s Arch and the Hippodrome, to the Temples of Zeus and Artemis, to the Cardo Maximus, Oval Forum, and beyond, you can truly picture what Jerash looked like many lifetimes ago.
At lunch that afternoon, our guide taught us about Ramadan – Mercy Month, or the Month of Fasting, considered to be regarded as one of the Five Pillars of Islam. To begin the following morning at 4am, Jordan (and a large majority of Muslim countries) were to fast during all hours of daylight every day for one month, from dawn to sunset. It’s compulsory for Muslims to begin fasting upon reaching puberty, with some exceptions (the sick, the pregnant, the nursing, the babies, etc.). In Jordan, those unable to fast have to give to a poor person the most expensive meal they have in their house, or the equivalent of that in cash. According to our Jordanian guide, the idea behind Ramadan is to feel what a poor person feels on a daily basis, in turn becoming a better person and feeling mercy for others.
Post lunch, we drove to Madaba, which is best known by its Byzantine and Umayyad mosaics, specifically for the large Byzantine-era mosaic map of the Holy Land. The Madaba Mosaic Map was discovered in 1896 and preserved in the floor of the Greek Orthodox Basilica of Saint George. It is an indexed map of the region, depicting hills, valleys, villages, and towns in Palestine and the Nile Delta. It illustrates 6th century landmarks, with the Cardo Maximus and the Holy Sepulchre quite visible. Mosaics aside, Madaba was once a Moabite border city, mentioned in the Bible in Numbers 21:30 and Joshua 13:9.
From Madaba we drove to Mt. Nebo. According to the final chapter of Deuteronomy, Moses climbed Mt. Nebo right before he died, and it was there that he looked out upon the Promised Land (that he would never enter) for the first time. After his descent from Mt. Nebo, he died in the city of Moab; no one is exactly sure where he is buried. Atop Mt. Nebo, approximately 2,680 feet above Sea Level, there is a panoramic view of the Holy Land, the valley of the River Jordan, Jericho, and Jerusalem on a clear day.
Pointed in the direction of the Holy Land is the Brazen Serpent Monument, symbolic of the bronze serpent created by Moses in the Wilderness (Numbers 21: 4-9) and the cross upon which Jesus was crucified – “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up” (John 3:14).
We drove to our accommodation for the night: Mujib Chalets, aka a hut overlooking the Dead Sea. We got there right before sunset and I decided that I wanted to go for another swim in the Dead Sea. Me. The water. The mountains. Not a soul in sight. Solitude. We watched a beautiful sunset from our patio, relaxed a bit, and passed out early.
We began the day at Rosh Hanikra, the ocean swept caves of the Mediterranean. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The Bridge and Railway tunnels at Rosh Hanikra are part of the rail tracks Haifa – Beirut – Tripoli that were established by the British Mandate Government during the Second World War. This was done to connect the Israeli and Lebanese rail networks and to establish a continuous rail network from Egypt via Sinai, Palestine, Lebanon, Syria and Turkey to Europe. Today, the tunnels leading have been sealed for fear of intruders.
The big difference between our birthright experience and other groups was that we had the opportunity to complete the Sea to Sea (Yam l’Yam) trek after finishing up the traditional 10-day experience; we hiked from the Mediterranean Sea to the Sea of Galilee. Upon arriving at Achziv Beach, we were told to choose a rock that we were to carry with us throughout the trek. This rock was meant to remind us why we were setting out on the path – a spiritual journey, a physical journey, a pilgrimage – whatever it may be, this rock was to be our tangible reminder.
The beginning of our hike was beautiful, from Nahal Kziv to Goren Park to Montfort Castle. The hiking was easy enough, but the heat was a killer. Upon arriving at Goren Park we found ourselves trekking up a cliffside then perching ourselves on cliffs overlooking gorgeous forestry.
We went to our campsite and all took part in making dinner. We had a vast array of food – salads, hotdogs, hamburgers, veggies, potatoes, hummus, tahini. After a spectacular sunset, we set up our “beds,” aka a yoga mat and a thin sleeping bag without a pillow, and passed out under the stars. I woke up at 3am to a pack of howling jackals but was so exhausted that I was able to fall right back to sleep.
I awoke with a spider in my hair. Yes, a spider. I was beginning to embrace this new outdoorsy me, although I could do without the spiders. After a nutella-packed breakfast, we visited Hurfesh, a Druze village. We spoke with a member of the community, and he explained that the Druze “believe in all the prophets – Moses, Jesus, and Mohammad.” That days hike was less exciting than the previous day, but fulfilling nonetheless.
The highlight was definitely our visit to the Circassian Village in Rehaniya. While the majority of us unintentionally zoned out (due to fatigue) through the history of the Circassians, we had a delicious homemade meal. We sat down, drank some sweet ginger lemonade, and then an array of food was put in front of us – spicy beets, potato salad, eggplants, carrots, corn salad, warm bread, and noodle soup. We devoured the food, and then learned that that was only our first course. Then they brought out our (entirely dairy-filled) meal – bread stuffed with ricotta (similar to empanadas), something similar to pierogis dipped in a yogurt sauce, and a cheese plate. We could barely move we were so full. But then they brought out some juicy watermelon and we just couldn’t resist.
Stuffed and exhausted, we made our way back to the campsite. By the time we arrived it was pitch black and we had to set up our sleeping areas in the dark. Thanks to Drew, I somehow ended up with a perfectly rockless spot to sleep on. That night was exceptionally cold and, even though I had on sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and a buff wrapped around my neck, I could not get warm. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep, however, the view of the stars above me while I was drifting in and out of consciousness was remarkable.
David and I were some of the first up that morning, and the first thing I saw was someone’s very empty food bags spewed across the entire campsite. Turns out, my darling Casey forgot to tightly secure her food before passing out, so a wild boar got into her food. David then went on to tell me that he heard the wild boar growling next to him while he was trying to sleep; he just went deeper into his sleeping bag and tried not to move until the boar went away.
We left to climb Mt. Meron from our campsite at 7:30am and we were climbing straight uphill from the get-go. A very good morning to us all. It was truly a beautiful hike. When we reached the peak, we had a Hebrew naming ceremony for those that didn’t already have one. I chose “Ezraela” which means “God is my help” and David chose “Raphael” meaning “God has healed.” We, as a group, chanted our names in the direction of Tzfat (remember, it’s one of the four holiest cities).
It was a long path down, and an even longer path to our next campsite. With painful shin splints, parts of the rocky path were tough but manageable. After 9.5 hours of hiking, we finally reached our campsite for the night.
We were greeted with watermelon and more importantly…bathrooms! We had a scrumptious pasta dinner and made s’mores by the fire before passing out early.
David woke me up at 5:30am to watch the sunrise on the final day of our trek. As he nudged me awake, I sleepily sat up and felt something itching my chest. I looked down to find a huge creepy-crawly nuzzled between my boobs! Within seconds I ripped off my sweatshirt and stood there topless laughing at myself (covering myself as much as possible, of course). We got ready, ate breakfast and took off for our fourth, and final, hike.
It was straight downhill for a while, so we moved pretty quickly before coming to a pretty little lake surrounded by some cliffs and ruins. We kept on trudging, entered a valley, and continued our trek. It was uphill for a while, and then we were virtually scaling the rocks which was just incredible. I was loving every second of it. It was brutally hot, to the point where all of the trails got shut down due to the intense heat.
Lucky us, we were stuck in the middle of the trail already and, thus, had to complete it no matter the heat index. We were drenched in sweat, bodies aching, and soaked in the view. When the end was finally in site, some of the group jogged there … until we realized there was a barbed wire fence blocking us in. We couldn’t figure out how to exit the trail. We looked around and realized that the only way out was straight up. So straight up we went. Another fence. This time, the barbed wired fence had a very small hole in it. Well, there was our solution. We crouched down, one by one, and slid through the tiny gap in the barbed wire fence.
We ended at the Sea of Galilee. Remember the rock that we chose four days prior? Here, we threw it in the water. Despite the heatwave, we completed Yam l’Yam and I couldn’t have been more thrilled.
We then relaxed in the hot springs in Tiberias. We immediately went into the mineral water pool, which stung our scrapes from the hike but felt so lovely. From there we jumped in the main pool and ultimately settled in the outdoor mineral pool, which felt like a hot tub. After a relaxing evening, and another great meal, we sat outside to discuss the trek.
Before doing so, we realized it was our guide, Itay’s, 13th birthright trip, so we gave him a Birthright Bar Mitzvah; it was so heartwarming. After a beautiful goodbye sunset, we took off for the hotel and were so excited for our first post-trek shower.
The longest journey begins with a single step, not with the turn of an ignition key. That’s the best thing about walking, the journey itself. It doesn’t much matter whether you get where you’re going or not. You’ll get there anyway. Every good hike brings you eventually back home. Right where you started.
The next morning we went to the Gadot Lookout and Memorial, which was the site of a Syrian military base until 1967. We learned that Eli Cohen, an Israeli spy that infiltrated the Syrian government under the name of Kamel Amin Thaabet, helped enable Israel to easily capture the Golan Heights during the Six Day War. Feigning sympathy, Cohen convinced the Syrian military generals to plant Eucalyptus trees around their bases in order to provide shade from the blazing sun for the soldiers – those huge trees were then used as a target so that, during the Six Day War, the Israeli army knew exactly where the Syrian military bases were when they carried out their air strikes. The Golan was captured within two days. Syrian intelligence eventually caught onto Cohen by tracing his radio transmissions into Israel. He was found guilty of espionage and publicly hanged in the Marjeh Square in Damascus on May 18, 1965; his remains have yet to return to Israel.
The experience of being at the Gadot Lookout, a base that was also surrounded by mines, was really neat. It was strange knowing that we were standing on what used to be Syrian soil, while looking down into an Israeli valley and left to the mountains of Lebanon.
Following the lookout, we hiked through a canyon to Nahal Zavitan. The hike began on a flat path with non-descript surroundings. of a sudden we reached a canyon that was so green and beautiful; the vegetation was amazing. After virtually scaling rocks and walking in little caves, we reached a beautiful oasis with a waterfall and pretty pink flowers. It was hot. We jumped into the river and swam to the waterfall. So refreshing.
Before we were to hang out by the Sea of Galilee, we went to Mount Bental (an inactive volcano) for a panoramic view of the Golan Heights and Mount Hermon. The view was stunning as we looked out into three separate countries: Israel, Syria, and Lebanon. On certain days, one can see and hear explosions happening in Damascus during this horrid civil war. Mount Bental was the site of one of the largest tank battles in history during the 1973 Yom Kippur War, and a key strategic point for the IDF due to its advantageous viewpoint. It was during this war that the Syrians attacked the Golan Heights with 1,500 tanks and 1,000 artillery pieces. Israel only had 160 tanks and 60 artillery pieces. It was the Syrians who retreated in the end; Israel won the Golan. The expansive valley stretching between Mount Bental and Mount Hermon became known as the Valley of Tears, as it was the major battle site during the Yom Kippur War.
That afternoon we were taken to the Cocohut Beach Resort in Tiberias on the Sea of Galilee to go tubing and relax for a while.
Our evening ended with a guest musician – Gilad Vital of Shotei Ha’nevu’ah and Pshutei Ha’am – who told a fascinating story of his youth. Through his music, he discussed his family story. We learned that his grandparents were separately taken to Auschwitz (and killed) during the Holocaust, leaving behind two young children: his father and his aunt. Their babysitter went on to put the two children in a convent so that they would be saved. They were saved, and Vital was born. His songs were emotional, full of both sorrow and passion.
At breakfast the following morning, David had told me that there was an airstrike 9 miles from our kibbutz – I suppose I sleep like a rock while traveling, as I somehow slept through it. We boarded the bus and headed toward Masada, an ancient fortress in the middle of the desert. It was gruelingly hot as we ascended Masada via the Roman Ramp; we joked about how great our glutes would look after this straight-up climb. Once at the top, the views of the Dead Sea were remarkable.
Masada is considered the place where the last Jewish stronghold against the Roman invasion took place. Herod the Great fortified Masada from 37 to 31 BCE. About 75 years after Herod’s death, with the destruction of the 2nd Temple, a group of Sacarii Jews overtook Masada at the beginning of the Revolt of the Jews against the Romans (around 66 CE). Needless to say, the Romans surrounded Masada and, thus, began a three-year siege of the fortress. As the Roman forces were in the midst of building a ramp up the face of Masada, thereby making capture possible, the Sacarii held their own despite being vastly outnumered. In the year 73 CE, when the ramp was almost complete, the Jews realized that they would no longer be able to defend themselves from the Romans. Elazar ben Yair, one of the leaders of the Sacarii, then decided that they would not let themselves be defeated and enslaved by the Romans. The solution? They decided to commit suicide. Ultimately, the men slit the throats of their wives and children, then the men killed each other so that only one man would have to take his own life. In committing suicide, the Sacarii were unable to give the Romans the gratification of killing and/or enslaving them. According to some, it is said that the Jews even left all of the food and water that they had so that the Romans knew that they didn’t starve and willingly took their own lives rather than being captured.
After learning the history of Masada and exploring the ancient ruins, we descended via the Snake Path. The never-ending Snake Path. It was great on the thighs, tough on the knees, and imprinted on the mind. The Snake Path offered breathtaking views, which made the descent far more bearable.
Next Stop? The Dead Sea at Ein Bokek Beach. It is said that the Sea stings due to such a high salinity content, so I walked in slowly. It didn’t sting. Or so I thought. About one minute in, it started burning like no other. For the ladies that have been, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I looked around to realize that it hit each and every one of us girls at the same time based on the looks on each other’s faces. We thought we would be fine– we’d followed the suggested “no shaving for 24 hours” rule – but no one cared to tell us just how much it would burn. Ouch. We toughed it out and enjoyed the unique experience. I instantly floated, and I found it far more difficult to attempt to stand (which was impossible due to the buoyancy) than to give into floating. Somehow, I was far less graceful than usual and began rolling around in circles uncontrollably until one of the boys stopped me. It was too funny.
After a little over an hour of floating (or, in my case, rolling), we covered ourselves in Dead Sea mud and it felt amazing. Our skin was officially soft as a baby’s butt.
That night, we were to sleep in a Bedouin tent in the Negev Desert! As soon as we pulled up to the site, I knew that it would be quite an exceptional experience, albeit sad because it was our last night with the Israelis.
We tried some Bedouin tea and coffee as a man explained to us what it’s like to grow up a Bedouin – they teach morals (like leadership) through various different acts at various different ages (ie. herding camels for four years, learning how to provide for yourself, etc). After learning about the Bedouin way of life, it was time to eat like one. We entered the tent and sat on the floor in groups of four. A man brought out a huge tray of assorted hummus, salad, rice, chicken, and potatoes. There were, however, no plates or utensils. Instead, we ate with our hands cross-legged on the floor; it was so authentic, hilarious, and fantastic and I’m thrilled that I got to share it with good friends by my side.
After dinner, we had an activity about important Jewish ideals – we were to determine which were most important to our group and shared them to see how they differed from other groups (ie. participating in the Jewish community, believing in God, having a mezuzah, learning Jewish history, etc.). Post-activity our Israeli soldiers put on a skit – “What it’s like to be an Israeli” – and it was just adorable and hysterical, and so fitting. We did a round of trust falls, then moved outside to the bonfire.
We sat, we talked, we sang, we enjoyed each other’s company. We bonded at the bonfire and grew even closer than we already were. By the time I crawled into my sleeping bag at 3am, I was exhausted and passed out despite being in a tent with 40 other people.
Installment #1 – The beginning of my South American journey. Chronicling Argentina, Chile, Ecuador, Peru, Uruguay, and Bolivia. Thanks to those who joined me along the way!
We woke up the following morning bright and early in hopes of beating the lines to Cristo Redentor, Christ the Redeemer. We headed to Corcovado to find out that none of the trains were running up the mountain. After befriending some guys from Tasmania, we were able to split a cab and avoid the technical issues that the train posed. The line to go to the top of the mountain was a mile long. Begrudgingly, we started walking toward the end of the line, preparing for a long wait, when a man stopped me; next thing we knew, we were instructed to cut the entire line and get into one of the vans. No complaints from me! By the time we reached the top, it was crowded but nothing unbearable. There was something remarkable about seeing Christ the Redeemer appear right before you. With arms stretched open, Christ looks over the city and the people of Rio de Janeiro. The views from atop Corcovado Mountain were truly astonishing as the sun shone down on Cristo from heaven above. After many a photo-op, we headed down the mountain, grabbed a quick lunch, and went straight to the beach. It was just too hot not to be in the water. As we neared sunset, we decided to go to Arpoador, a rocky peninsula situated between two of the world’s most famous beaches: Copacabana and Ipanema. We had been told that it’s the best viewing spot and we settled into witness the colorful sky fade into dusk…that is, until a raincloud decided to stop directly in front of the sun. So much for the beautiful sunset that I had anticipated.
I had planned on heading to bed early (since the following day was New Year’s Eve), however, we ended up bonding with some people at the hostel and they convinced me to join in their merriment. After being persuaded into a few rounds of “Roxanne,” (a new drinking game thanks to our new Irish friends) I finally passed out five hours later than planned. When in Rio…
The Five Foot Traveler 
