From one of our best days to one of our worst! We had another good breakfast and then left the Bish Bishi Hotel in a new, beautiful mini-bus on our way to the Egypt-Israel border. We thoroughly enjoyed the hour-and-a-half drive which showcased several up-and-coming resorts between Dahab and Taba. If we come to Egypt again in 5 years, it will be amazing to see the changes. However, the moment we left the comfort of our mini-bus to cross the border on foot, events started to change quickly. First, we stood in the heat, waiting to clear the first hurdle of baggage checks on the Egyptian side. It took a long time, as there were two or three tour bus groups ahead of us (and one behind us). After this, we filled out the mandatory forms and were about to move onto the next stage when Barry asked about re-entrance visas. Suddenly, he was steered to a window and then into a small room where he found out it would cost more money than we had on us and we'd have to fill out 4 crazy-long forms. So we decided to get our visas in Israel or Jordan. By this time, the Polish tour group behind us had passed us in line (but what can you do?), so we left Egypt and walked through no-man's-land to Israel. The tour bus groups formed a massive crowd ahead of us and we stood in the blinding heat with little to no movement. Apparently, it was the start of the Feast of Abraham, a week long holiday, and we'd arrived along with 14 tour buses, with us in the middle. We waited and waited, not in the middle of the crowd but on the outside edge and were confident that as we got closer it would sort itself out. Another tour bus group came in behind us and then another and still we weren't moving. A border guard walked through the crowd, checking that passports were in hand and open to the correct page. He got to the back of the crowd and then started walking back up to the front, but the crowd at the back misunderstood him and followed him, passing the queue and going to stand near the front of it, ahead of us. The guard didn't look back and the crowd realized their mistake, but only half of the people went back to the back of the line. We were really mad that they had butted in (but what can you do?) That wasn't even the beginning, though. As we got closer to the narrow gate, the people beside us started to push us out and go ahead. We explained that everyone would get through if everyone let patience prevail, but they had assumed that we were part of the group that had butted in ahead of them and told us to go to the back of the line, all in hand gestures, of course. We refused and they began to physically push us out of the line. We held our ground, but the next half hour was hell as person after person would shove and slip past us or continually push us from behind. They did the same thing to a Polish man ahead of us, and he kept looking at us with confusion, saying, "I do not think they understand." The irony was that here we were, going into Israel (the Holy Land) and we were being bullied and even assaulted by a group of Romanian "pilgrims". The group even had nuns and a priest in it! One little old nun got into a scrum with Barry to try to move him over; he relented and she scurried under his arm to pass him. The group continued to yell at us to go to the back, which was now two or three tour bus loads long. Finally, we got through pre-screening. For some reason, we were put straight through, while many of the Romanians had to go through the process of baggage checks. We were very relieved that it was over; and then we saw the next line up we had to join!! At least this one was set up properly with ropes so we hoped it would move more quickly. However, as the detained Romanians approached, one slipped under the rope ahead of us and then yelled at the others to join him. They were laughing, and Margaret saw many of the women of the group look at her, apologetically. She started to cry because it was just so rude. We didn't argue anymore, but let about fifteen of them simply jump the queue. Some of the Romanians who had remained behind us told them it was just too much, but this was ignored. The rest of the time in the line was miserable and when we got near the front, a couple of the nicer ladies from the group beckoned us to go ahead of them, making Margaret cry again. Not a good experience. After we got through, we sat on a bench outside for a few minutes to regroup. We have realized Canadians are not very pushy people, but we wouldn't have it any other way!! Our original plan had been to go straight through to Jordan, but we decided that we had had enough for one day. Barry got a cab driver and we drove into Eilat, the roads, streets, stores and rest of the city exactly the opposite of Egypt. Street lines, stop lights, and drivers who stop for pedestrians all seemed surreal after ten days in Egypt, but there is a price to be paid for such luxuries. We inquired at the International Youth Hostel, only to be told it would cost $175.00 US!!!! Everyone said Israel was very European and they were right! Shocked, we thought we might just continue on to Jordan after all, but our cab driver got us into a little apartment for the night for slightly less than $100.00 Canadian. It wasn't the nicest accommodation, but it gave us a chance to plan our next move.

This plan unfolded over some ice cold pints of Stella draft beer at Paddy's Irish Pub in downtown Eilat. We decided we would leave the next day, even though both our cab driver and the owner of the apartment really tried to convince us that Petra was a day trip only, that we just needed 2 hours to see it, that there would be nothing to do if we stayed the night, and that we should just go in-and-out with an Israeli organized tour. That was a contradiction to what a lot of other people had told us and to what we'd researched on the internet, so we decided to go into Jordan and see for ourselves.