Becoming addicted to travel


Goats and camels strode by and over my sleeping bag. Nestled in the desert sand, beneath a luminous Southern Cross, I sobbed. What the heck was I, a five month pregnant woman, doing? Camping in the Sinai Desert with ten other travelers protected by two Uzi armed guides?
But then the sun rose. We ate eggs cooked with a torch and snorkeled in the Red Sea. I picked dates from trees in Wadis. We lunched with Bedouins who plucked figs for us. We visited St. Catherine’s Monastery with its underground rooms filled with skulls and bones and then climbed Mt. Sinai. We hiked up hills and slid down on loose sand.
It was my first adventure travel. Way israelback in 1974. And ever since, I’ve been heading out for more.

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