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ENTRY 51 - Visa Denied

No Work Permit

Miranda and I enjoyed our last couple of years in Peachland (Photo), but had decided we wanted to travel again. We were more than a little excited by the fact that -- after going through the interview process -- I had been offered the position of Rector, St. Paul's, Paget (Photo), by the Bishop of Bermuda.

After a fantastic farewell from the people of St. Margaret's and the community of Peachland, we drove across Canada to Ontario and Quebec to visit friends before we left. We stopped along the way in various cities and towns. Our first stop was Edmonton, where we visited with friends who had lived in Peachland. They took us to the amazing West Edmonton Mall and we got up the nerve to go on a very high roller-coaster. The 'G' forces were so that our skin was pulled back on our faces (and we have the photo to prove it).

Unfortunately, when we were on the road two days later I discovered the residual effects of that ride: it was impossible to drive because I could not turn my head around. We were forced to pull in early to a small town. After administrating some muscle relaxants and heading to bed, we were able to continue the next day.

Driving across Canada was challenging and fun. For the most part we stayed in small towns such as Bigger, Kakabeca Falls and Wawa. In Kakabeca Falls we were stopped by a flat tire and ended up spending several more days than we'd planned. Although the town is small, the beautiful falls with its Indian legends made us glad we had been forced to investigate it in more depth.

When we arrived in Southern Ontario we received some bad news. The Government of Bermuda had denied me a work permit. There was a major conflict between the Government and the Bishop. The Government eventually won and the Bishop had been forced to fill the Rectorship of St. Paul's with a "local" priest from Jamaica.

Miranda and I also had difficulty leaving Ontario because of SARS. Our flight from Toronto to London, England, was canceled. We ended up driving to Montreal and from there flew to London.

Camelot

In London (which was very expensive), we visited all the tourist sights we hadn't seen before, and then went to Somerset. The beauty of the landscape impressed us, and we decided to stayed in Glastonbury for a few days.

Although this was not during the time of the festival, we still ran into people who seemed to be living in the '60s. Many shops sold items geared to the "New Age" and other stores took up the theme of King Arthur and Camelot. We climbed to the top of the Tor and watched while people collected and drank the "magic" waters of the fountain there. A small boy, naked from the waist down peed into the source of the "sacred waters" while others down steam commented on the flavor of the mystical waters.

Greece

While back in London, we broke one of our cardinal rules and booked a hotel in advance through a travel agency, paying with a credit card. We flew into Athens and made our way to the hotel, which had been described as having a delightful rooftop swimming pool. Much to our horror, the swimming pool was being taken apart with a jack hammer and our room was only three levels below the roof. (And they began construction -- or deconstruction -- at 7:00 am.) The whole city of Athens was being rebuilt for the next year's Olympics. Early in the morning after we arrived, I rushed to the port town of Piraeus and booked us onto a ferry taking us to the islands. During our short stay in Athens we dropped by a few of our old haunts, but, as is the way, many things had changed.

While on the ferry, we decided to get off at Mykonos, an island we had never been to before. We had been told that it was a "party island", but since it was only May we thought we would take a chance. It turned out to be a very good decision. Due to the fact that it was low season, we were able to get a small "villa" just a short walk from Mykonos town for a very good rate. It was a bit of a hike uphill from the road and the waterfront, but had an agreement with a hotel down below to use their swimming pool and other facilities. We stayed seven weeks and the locals became like family.

Thanks to Anna, (the manager for the Mykonos Beach Hotel), we were met in Rhodes at the ferry. This was important in order to find the hostel we had chosen. She had stressed the fact that I was a "Papas" (Priest) and ordered the man to meet us. When we got to Rhodes we could see no car waiting for us and we were quite disappointed. However when we got to the entrance of the port, a young man on a bicycle announced that he was from the youth hostel and we should follow him. It turned out that no vehicles were allowed past the gated entrance.

The hostel was in the center of the old city of Rhodes and we were fascinated by the architecture and winding lanes. I don't think we ever would have found the hostel if it hadn't been for the young man on the bicycle. He and his brother managed the place for his parents. Our room was off the central courtyard where everyone ate their meals, played games and socialized.

Rhodes was one of our favorite destinations. The old city has several interesting historical sites such as a castle that had been used by the Knights Templar. We made friends with several of the people staying at our hostel, especially a very tall and imposing fellow from England named Robert. At first when we saw him we thought he would be a bit of a menacing character with his size and the way he dressed, but he turned out to be a very kind and gentle man. He and I would often sit together and play chess while drinking "Okanagan Tea" (Greek wine served in mugs).

Turkey and Israel

From Rhodes we took a ferry to Marmaris, Turkey, an unimpressive location in the south crowded with tourists from Europe. We quickly found a bus to take us to Selcuk (the modern name of Ephesus), a town of historic significance which I had always wanted to visit. It was very hot and we were hoping to find a hotel with a swimming pool. We were met at the bus by a young man who told us of a place called Artemis Guest House. He suggested we visit and see it before making a decision about another place. We walked with him to the building which was not far from the bus station, but I was still thinking of going to somewhere with a swimming pool. We were seated in the lobby and brought a locally-made cherry beverage (very nice) and met by the manager. He explained all the perks of staying at his hotel, and when I mentioned that the only thing it lacked was a pool, he said, "Follow me". We walked through a television lounge and past some washrooms into a back garden area, only to discover that he now had a newly-installed swimming pool, not yet mentioned in the guide book.

All in all we spent six weeks in Selcuk/Ephesus, becoming close to Jimmy, Bron, Adem and Cheryl at Artemis Guest House. By the time we left we knew the town upside down and backwards and we had seen the ruins at Ephesus several times. The slow pace was just right at that time of year (June/July), and the pool was a lifesaver on some truly hot days. Jimmy's girlfriend, Bron, was helpful in diagnosing the infection on my leg that had shown up after my jelly fish bite. She suggested an ointment which cleared it up in no time. Miranda also took time to read several of the Harry Potter books that Bron loaned her. Jimmy, who managed the guest house with his brother Adem, was also in the carpet business and we learned much about the different designs, colours, yarns, etc., that went into the carpets. Although we did not buy one, Miranda maintained that if she is ever in a position to purchase a Turkish carpet, she will do so from Jimmy.

The ruins at Ephesus are among some of the finest we have seen anywhere. Both of us were impressed, especially by the library and the communal toilet. The first time we went we took a guided tour and learned much about the history of the site. I read my bible once again to put things in perspective, and went back on my own to be able to go at my own pace. Even with other people walking through, there is a mystery and sacredness still lingering there.

With much sadness we left our friends in Selcuk and boarded the bus for the long ride to Istanbul. We had asked Adem to make a reservation for us at a youth hostel, so that we would be sure of accomodation after the long bus ride which got us in after supper time. Much to our horror, somehow the reservation had gone missing and there was no room in the inn. We were sent off to a small hotel just down the block, which was pricier, but had nice rooms. Later on, after staying in both places, we realized that the hotel was worth every extra penny just because of maintenance and privacy issues. (We are definitely a bit older and more discriminating than the typical youth hostel tenant.)

Istanbul was fascinating, and the location of our accomodation was perfect for walks in the old quarter. We spent some time in the Blue Mosque and were mesmerized by the fabulous tile murals found in the Hagia Sophia (now a museum). On one miraculous day we ran into friends we had met in Rhodes and rode together on a boat going along the Bosphorus.

One of the only scary times during our travels took place oneSunday morning in Istanbul. We were walking along enjoying the relative quiet of the downtown area when I looked into the sky and began to see black specks. I asked Miranda if there was anything there and she responded in the negative. It occured to me that there might be something drastically wrong with my eyes, so I should get myself to a hospital quickly. We went to tourist information and they suggested the German Hospital across the river. As soon as we could, we hailed a taxi and went directly to the hospital.

The eye specialist was not on duty, but a nurse called him and described my symptoms. He told us to stay there and he would come as soon as he could. Within 15 minutes the doctor had arrived, still in jeans and casual shirt. He examined me and, in broken English and German, explained that I had a detached retina and would need surgery. He asked if I would be ready for surgery. "Yes," I replied, "but when?"

I was shocked when he told me that he and the nurse would be ready to operate on me within 10 minutes. Within a half an hour I had had laser surgery on my eye and was feeling much better. I asked the doctor why he stopped and started during the surgery as he re-attached the retina and he explained that if he held the laser on the eye for too long, the liquid in the eye would heat up and the eye would burst. I thanked him profusely for a job well done. Both Miranda and I were very impressed with the efficiency and speed with which we were dealt at Istanbul's German Hospital.

After I was sure my eye was fully recovered, Miranda and I flew to Israel during the month of September. We flew into Tel Aviv, but spent most of our time in Jerusalem. I had arranged to meet with the Bishop of the Middle East in the Cathedral in Jerusalem, and had made myself available for a position. While staying in the rooms at the Cathedral, we became aware of somepeople staying with us who were part of an organized group. The Bishop invited us to attend some of their sessions and we met with some Israeli settlers who described their take on the situation in Israel. On another day the group went to Ramallah to meet with Yassar Arafat and I was asked to join them. I jumped at the chance to here the other side of the story from such a historical figure. President Arafat spoke for some time and then met individually with us for photos. He certainly was a fascinating man.

After staying at the Cathedral we moved into the Arab quarter of Jerusalem, staying at a hostel with small but clean rooms. A few days after moving in, I was told by the manager that two young Israeli men had asked to meet me at the front desk. When I arrived they began to ask me many personal questions, even going so far as to ask me who my favourite hockey team was when I said I was originally from Montreal. As they walked away I noticed that they each had a pistol tucked into the back of their jeans. The hostel manager, a man from Germany, that I had just been visited by the 'stasi' (or the secret police). I became aware that all our ins and outs were being monitored and they were probably aware that I had been to Ramallah to meet Yassar Arafat.

Jerusalem was very divided between Jewish and Arab neighbourhoods and it was obvious which people had the most money. At the time of our visit there were very few tourists and the shop keepers in the Arab quarter were hurting badly. Some of the tourist sites had even been closed. We did see most of what we had wanted to see, visiting most places on foot. On Miranda's birthday we went to the King David Hotel and had some fancy dessert (chocolate, of course). There was a tension due to the fact that many bombings had taken place, and our luggage was checked very well when getting on and off buses.

We returned to Istanbul for a short time, only to discover on the last day of our trip that there was something wrong with our flight to New Delhi, the next step of our journey. It was necessary that we leave on that day because it was the last day of our Turkish visa. We decided to go to the airport and take the flight, mostly because we had no choice. We prayed that things would work out.

Our trip was pretty much uneventful until we arrived in Amman, Jordan. As we entered the airport, we were told that our connecting flight to New Delhi had already left. Fortunately we were flying Royal Jordanian Airlines, and they put us up in a very nice hotel, feeding us three delicious meals a day. The luxurious surroundings were great, so we weren't too sorry that it took two days to find a flight to fit all those stranded in Amman.

Kidnapped

It was very early in the morning when we touched down in New Delhi. Our Lonely Planet Guide to India suggested that we get into the city using a pre-paid taxi. Following their advice we paid in advance and presented our receipt to one of the drivers waiting outside Arrivals. He obligingly began to drive, and we again explained that we wanted to go to the Sunny Guest House in central Delhi.

It was dawn when the driver pulled his car into a small alley and told us that we must fill out some special forms. We objected, but began to realize that we were not in a strong position, as our luggage was in the trunk of the taxi. We had no idea where we were or how to find other transportation.

I told Miranda that I would stay in the vehicle while she dealt with whatever "forms" needed filling out. Inside the "office" she was told that she had to fill out a Government form to keep tourists safe from harm. (A local diplomat had been attacked recently.) When asked where we were staying, she mentioned the Sunny Guest House once again. The man behind the desk offered to let her call and check whether or not they could accommodate us.

Whoever answered the phone said they were full, as was our second choice. Miranda was pretty sure that she hadn't been put through to the guest houses in question, but had no real recourse or proof.

When she got back into the taxi, the driver said he would take us to another part of town called Karol Bagh and a very nice hotel. We decided to go, although by now we were quite sure that we had been kidnapped.

Karol Bagh

Karol Bagh was near Channa Market. The hotel to which we were taken was rather down at the heels and it was going to cost us $20 US for one night. The room was acceptable but nothing special. Tired and disgusted with the kidnapping ruse, we grudgingly agreed to stay one night.

We saw the hotel desk clerk pay the taxi driver his "cut" for bringing us to his hotel. I was upset and told the man behind the desk what had happened. He explained that if he didn't pay the "commission", he would never get any guests at his hotel. The "commission" would be split between the driver, the airport official and the police.Things had not changed much since our last trip to Delhi.

After exploring Karol Bagh, we decided that we would stay in the neighborhood. We moved to a much nicer and more reasonably priced hotel down the street and ended up staying six weeks. In all our travels on this trip, it has been the one and only time we have had a full size bathtub, instead of a shower. I enjoyed soaking off the dust of New Delhi on a daily basis.

Visa to Pakistan

While in the capital city we worked on getting a visa to Pakistan. At the Pakistani Embassy we were told we would need to obtain a letter from the Canadian High Commission granting us permission to travel in Pakistan. The Canadian government was reluctant to give us the required letter. They said that they would do so only for certain "special" situations. As simple tourists we did not qualify.

Disappointed, we tried other ways of obtaining the travel visa, but were unsuccessful.

Undaunted, we crossed to the other side of India and headed to a region north of Calcutta called Mirik, on the border with Nepal. The area was a favorite tourism spot for Indian travelers.

We found accommodation at an old wooden building appropriately named "The Wooden Lodge". Run by a family who also lived in their lodge / restaurant, we soon began to feel at home. We delighted in our daily walks through the cool dark woods around Mirik Lake.

The local food was different than in other parts of India, and we became especially fond of vegetable dumplings known as "momo". The longer Miranda and I stayed, the more we felt this would be a great place to retire one day.

Links:

Photo/Mirik

Photo/Mirik

Photo/Mirik

Photo/Mirik

Photo/Karol Bagh

Photo/Karol Bagh

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