It was on a random chat with another tourist, when i heard about that wooden Borgund Stave Church. Let’s go there i thought, followed the rainbow and found my way via the fantastic Vindahellvegen to that awesome wooden church.
Traveling further south i had to climb up the famous pass route of Trollstigen.
Just before the climb i stopped to get some photos and took a small hike in the nearby forest. No trolls to see. But even here some tourists tried desperately to get in front of my camera.
On the top of the pass the crowd grew even bigger. Despite the rain started to pour down. I just took some pictures to collect memories, but been happy to find calmer places in the fjords again.
Unexpectedly i heard some trolls calling me on my way. They showed me a nice spot to sleep under their watch.
With lots of sunshine the Lofoten was pure bliss.
Pure? Almost, if there wasn’t those dirty people using the bushes as camping toilet. It makes me angry to see how some tourists pollute the nature, while posting about the their passion for outdoor activities. I guess there will be consequences for other tourists and traveler sooner or later. I wonder how much longer wild camping will be tolerated.
Back on the road i noticed wooden frames with left overs of dry fishes. Stockfish is an important good in Norway and its export was recorded back to the medieval times. Although it’s originally not salted, i found some salt on the bottom of these frames.
There are quite a few villages. Most are suited themselves best for tourism. They’re pretty, some have also museums and other information centre. Probably most important are the restaurants and cafes settled on beautiful places.
After a couple beautiful days on the archipelagos i reached the village of Å , where i had a last hike before boarding the ferry to south at midnight.
I played tourist in Riga.
Just strolling trough the old town, looked at historical building, visited churches and parks and learned a bit from its history.
Not going to bore you with many details about Riga, what you could find in a better way online, but post some impressions on my walk trough the city, before i found a quite place for the night just at the bank of the river Daugava.
It’s a catholic pilgrimage site, not known by certain when or by whom it started.
What is believed is in the 19th century people started bringing crosses to the site of a former hill fort. Probably in memory of perished rebels, who fight against the Russian Empire.
This hill, now know as Hill of Crosses has estimated more than 100’000 crosses, rosaries and statues, brought from all over the world.
In the tiny rental car the Judaean Desert felt even more huge. A black bitumen road navigates between stony fields, rocky areas and along deep, dry valleys with some rare, green oasis. I have to admit, i always do enjoy traveling trough lonely deserts. All in a sudden a deep blue surface appeared on the edge of a plateau. I reached the Dead Sea region.
Not far from here i arrived at the foot of a mountain. On top of it is the legendary fortress of Masada.
Built by Herod the Great it has two palaces for himself and fortified city on the plateau of the mountain. Beside the space for the inhabitants it also has huge storage rooms and a clever system of water drains and cisterns. King Herod enjoyed life up here with big, painted halls, terraces overlooking the Dead Sea and even heated baths.
Later the fortified city was occupied by the Jewish on the First Jewish-Roman War. The story tells a sad end of the folks up there. When the Romans besieged the fortress, they even build up a ramp to breach the walls. The people inside the city decided not to go in slavery but rather commit a mass suicide.
Nowadays a cable car brings the tourists on the top. There’s still a long, steep way uphill for the wanderers. I preferred to spend some time up there and wander between the ruins. Some wall paintings are still well preserved, as parts of the Roman bath is too. Even the earthen ramp, which was built to breach the wall, is still good to see.
The view is just stunning. On the back raises the mountains of the desert with its nice rock formations. On the front lies the blue Dead Sea with the Jordan mountains on the other side. It was so beautiful and magic, i spent longer than planned, but regret not one minute of it.
There’s quite a controversy about the birthday of Jesus. While some historian beliefs it was actually in Nazaraeth, where he supposed to spend also his youth, other stays with the place written in the Gospels: Bethlehem.
After entering the city trough heavy guarded check-points, we stopped at one of the best known graffiti by the anonymous artist Banksy.
The main program lead to the spot where, according to the gospels and the belief of christians, Jesus was born in a little shack. Around this place a big church with several units and chapels were build.
This Church Of The Nativity has different section according to different Christians churches, similar like the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Old Jerusalem. And like there, here too they have this agreement of ‚Staus Quo‘.
A big crowd was gathered at the small, brown muddy river. It’s supposed to be the place, where Jesus got baptized in the Jordan river. These groups of believers obviously want follow their religion idol by get also blessed in that dirty water.
There’s a singing, praying and even screaming all over the crowd. A few standing in the water, all in white clothes, and holding the believers. Some seemed to hesitate, but loud prayers demanding to the supposing daemons to leave. Then, in a quick move, the priest dived the believer backwards into the river. A guy with a horn blows a deep tone to announce the new baptized, while the crowd was cheering and the singing is swelling in excitement.
The Jordan river is the border to the state of Jordan too. At the other side there’s also a small access to the river. The wooden platform is smaller and much less crowded. The few tourists from Jordan side was watching and filming the event. In between, there was a lonely guy, a bit off the crowd dipping himself into the river. When he reappeared he looked around, seemed to be almost a bit lost.
In the Armenian Quarter of Jerusalem stands a big building which host now the Armenian museum.
These rooms was build originally in the 1850’s as a pilgrim guesthouse, became later a monastery, a seminary and also an orphanage of survivors of the genocide from 1915.
After a five year renovation it just reopened recently as a museum and memorial of the Armenian Genocide in 1915.
Beside many handicrafts and artifacts of the Armenian culture, especially also the famous ceramics and ornaments, it tells the story of the tragic incidents and deaths from the 24. April 1915, which is still denied by the Turkish government.
rene bauer photography 