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Day 2 - February 20 - The journey into the unknown

Early in the morning, I bid farewell to my relatives and started heading the opposite direction, towards the west. My "ingenious" plan was to take a shortcut through some smaller roads, but this feeble attempt came to a halt when the road unceremoniously ended and I had to back-track quite a few kilometers of formerly uphill road. Oh well - not the best beginning.

Even after this minor setback, I was rewarded of wonderful views of the vicinity - not sure if there were in Syria, Lebanon or Israel. Why do we need all these borders? Nature is so wonderful...

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I guess I relied too heavily on Google Maps. The previous day, I was just a few feet away from the Syrian border, I decided to test the Lebanese one. There was a town called Metula right at the border and Google told me to turn right, then left, then right again, to a steep road with bad surface. These were orange farmlands, with workers coming apparently from the Far East, I guess Thailand. They did not really seem to care what I was doing there. I reached the border fence earlier than thought. To my right, was a big fence and I could first hear loud bangs, then see rather large explosions - two hundred meters or so behind the border the Lebanese army was practicing. I decided not to take any photographs and pushed northward.

When Metula was already in reaching distance, I was greeted by an unwelcoming sign - there was a United Nations peacekeeping military base blocking the road - all this climbing for nothing! Well, I thought this would not deter me, the town is right there in front of me. I walked my bike around the base, in the midst of the orange plants, hoping not to discover any mines from earlier combats. Oh no! Then I saw something I did not see before: a gorge of a deep, deep creek, which separated the farmland from the town. There would have been one way to cross - a very narrow pipeline, but that was a no-go with the bike and the bags on it. I tried - in vain - to find some other crossing - then after struggling for almost an hour - I cursed out loud and stared heading down the same damaged road I had come from. Luckily, the Lebanese guys did not consider me as target.

All the way at the bottom of a hill, there was a bridge, and now I was on road 90, heading up again, quite steep. There was almost no traffic here - no one crosses here between Israel and Lebanon.

The gorge I could not cross - plus the UN tower on the right of the picture...the scenery was amazing!

I rode past town and saw the sign that the road 90 would end, proclaiming it to be longest road in the country...

The longest road

...and then the country ended in a large yellow gate. I heard that two decades ago this has been a flourishing crossing, with hardly any controls.

The Bitter End, also called the Fatima Gate

Not a lot of traffic, no love for each other - but fewer soldiers than I thought

Funny enough, there was a memorial proclaiming this to be (or have been) "The Good Fence". A bit convoluted - Israel was allied with the Maronites, member of a Catholic Church in Lebanon. From 1977 until the year of 2000, their members were allowed to enter Israel, work there and even get free medical treatment.

Good Fence

Some further spectacular views opened up - even the town of Metula was pretty, a resort town for artist - I can understand why....palm trees overlooking the snowy peaks...However, this town has had a violent past, e.g. in 2006, some 120 rockets fired by the Hezbollah hit the town. Again, in the midst of this wonderful surrounding, such unnecessary bloodshed...

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My plan backfired for the third time that day. I planned to go around Metula and take a different road down south, but that was non-existent - or I would have had to enter Lebanon. No, no. No experiments in such surroundings - so I played it safe and just rode down the same way I had come from. It was already around 1 pm, and I had been on the road for 5 hours and I was like 5 kilometers away where I started - OH WELL...at least I knew the surroundings of Metula really well. For a short time, I was heading south of the 90, but that would have been quite a boring trip with ever more traffic, so I decided to go as far west as possible - now I had to climb a very steep hill, then follow the Lebanese border, on road number 886. There was a wonderful view of the valley below, with irrigated lands and settlements as far as the eye could see.

The road at the bottom of the hill is the 90 (the longest road in the country)

There was rather little traffic - what did come across were Humvees and other heavily guarded military vehicles, with soldiers in full combat attire. Huge antennas were affixed to the roof of these. Once a convoy of two jeeps and two trucks came from the other direction, the driver of the truck must have been a real macho, he literally pushed me off the road. For my own convenience, no photographs are available of these...as said, I wanted to play it safe.

The snowy peaks of the Golan Heights faded as I was heading south along this delicate border. All settlements were gated, but (I think) not guarded. I bought supplies in a kibbutz and noticed a sign for hotels. This is good, I thought, it seems a kibbutz means hotel.

The scenery was quite interesting, I was on a high plateau, once there was a view to my right, i.e. to the west, i.e. deep into Lebanon. It seemed all so peaceful and quiet, with (I think...) apple trees along the small, barbed-wire fence - there was even a small wooded platform there - do people cross illegally? Might be. Later, I saw gorges and deep valleys - but I was also getting a somewhat concerned, as daylight was fading.

A gorge of sorts

I was cursing myself for not having been able to carry my tent and my sleeping back - after all, I was crossing a forest, where I could have pitched my tent and wild camped. Probably those patrols would not have been happy to see me, if they had discovered me. Now it meant pushing on. Darkness came rather quickly. There was ample sunshine at 4 pm, half an hour later, I was a bit worried, at 5, it was pitch dark. I saw a sign that a kibbutz coming in like 3 kilometers, only that it was (yet again) a steep uphill battle. A bit after five - i.e. in darkness - I reached the entrance.

Guarded, it was. With broken English, the guard explained this was a private kibbutz, called Sasa, no strangers welcome. I asked to talk to someone higher in the ranks, that was not possible. As mentioned, the bike did not have lights - but the entrance to the kibbutz was well lit. I thought this would continue - am referring to the lights, but the lights ended at the perimeter and all that was left was a rather busy, 2-lane highway - I decided it would be really unsafe riding there. The guard told me a bus might or might not be coming - very reassuring, toda raba. OK, time to hitch-hike - soon, a guy stops...yes, in Israel, at night - I was able to halt a car. He, however, was unable to help, as his car was cramped full with stuff, but did give me a small torch-light. I decided to wait for the bus that might or might not come and continue hitch-hiking.

Suddenly this space-ship of a gigantic Land Rover SUV stops , roaring electric music was to be heard. Even though it had expensive leather seats, we somehow squeezed the bike in (the trunk was full) and off we rode. This car must have had about 600 horse powers and some sort of a warning system if we were too close to a car in front. Well, these warning would simply not stop - we must have been riding with 150 km/h, on a curvy, dark road, coming inches close to the car in front and then flying past it. I was thinking if it had been better to freeze or perish in a crash - this was more exciting for sure and the end would have been in an instant. We got to a well-lit town with lots of clothing stores, the guy said, no, this is a Palestinian place, no place to stay and we raced on. He dropped me in the next Jewish settlement, called Zuriel, where signs were promoting places to sleep.

After some back and forth, I found the owner of a place to let, a wooden cabin. It was rather expensive, around €100, but it boasted a whirlpool and a comfortable bed. Oh yes, I think I spent an hour pampering myself. I rode only 70 kilometers that day (plus flew 10 km by car), but it was quite a tiring one, given all the detours. I dozed off with a smile on my face.

Getting the whirlpool (and myself...) ready...

Biker Balazs