12 November, Aqaba to
Amman (f) Wed
never intended on riding in Jordan after entering the
coutry. Our thinking was that it would make a convenient
starting point for our venture into Egypt. We also
thought it more than serendipitous that our friends
Claire and William would be stopping over here on their
way to India. With the help of our dear friend Olivier we
coordinated a rendez-vous in Amman. Arriving in Aqaba we
found our way to the Crystal Hotel and negotiated a room
with two enormous beds and windows opening out onto the
central market. Aside from the size of our nests and the
welcome letter from the hotels general manager the
centrally located Crystal was completely unremarkable.
Apparently translated by someone with a sick sense of
humor the letter declared proudly that his hotel featured
"widey rooms" and "speacial estrained
arts".
We left too soon to figure
out what these amenities could possibly be, but are sure
that someone will appreciate them. Aqaba treated us to a
wonderful fish dinner, part of which stray cats
vigorously enjoyed until a mean street urchin burned one
with his lit cigarette. Our other Aqabese discovery was
the best chocolate ice cream ever (in the terms of
Michelin guides "worth a detour".)
The next day we made an
early start of it. We rented a micro agouti car, named it
Akbar and made our way north to Amman to meet Claire and
William. Riding along the Red Sea, this time on the
Jordanian side of the border we began to appreciate our
trip along the other side. Far less inhabited than the
Israeli counterpart. Our lunch stop caused quite a
commotion. We drove through a little village in search of
something to eat. There was no Burger King or
McDonalds so we settled for a little falafel in a
stand near the bus station. Our presence somehow made the
shop very popular. Everyone in town with a free moment
stopped in to buy something and greet us with their best
English while mischievous Arab boys tried to roll our car
down the hill.
We faced many challenges
to make our next destination. Not the least of which was
Andys desire to stop and have a photo session with
each camel we passed. (It sparked an idea in me.
Well create an on-line calendar featuring the
camels of Jordan, Israel and Egypt as a feature on the
page.) Our biggest barrier to making it to our bathing
place on the Dead Sea were the numerous check points
where invariably a surly soldier would demand our
passports and ask for a ride for someone who was waiting
with him. Each conversation, no matter how curtly we
turned down the opportunity to have a passenger, ended
with "Welcome to Jordan."
When we finally did make
it to the Dead Sea Rest House I learned why so many
people carry flasks of fresh water to the beach. The
eye-full of Dead Sea water dished out the most painful
stinging sensation I could have imagined. Even knowing
the risks I cant stop singing the praises of
bobbing about in the water feeling the minerals leach out
the impurities from my skin. In an experiment we tried to
get the water to dry on us after leaving the water. In
the desert, where you air-dry from a shower in five
minutes, it was a surprise to find us still wet after
nearly half an hour. We finally gave up and rinsed off in
the outdoor showers where Andrew shrugged off the amorous
advances of a handsome young Jordanian.
Our car Akbar, showing
surprising strength for such a small beast, rocketed us
out of the Dead Sea valley to Amman, where we reached the
airport in ample time to exchange him for a more refined
and larger beast well in advance of Claire and
Williams flight.
Of that meeting and our
subsequent adventures in Amman and on the road to Petra
fair William writes:
Flight RJ116 from Paris
to Ammans Queen Alia airport arrived at around 6pm
local time. We (William and Claire (see France trip
(Chalonnes sur Loire)) were expecting to take a yellow
Mercedes service taxi to Downtown Amman to stay at the
RUM Continental hotel on Basman street
but
thats not what happened. A pair of well tanned
legs, with white socks and dusty black shoes were
standing behind the aluminum barrier. It was Andrew. Our
3-day stopover to Jordan had just taken an interesting
new direction
we certainly needed directions to
find that hotel in Amman, especially as we found out that
there are two downtowns - we needed the really deep
downtown place. Fred was at the wheel and made some
impressive U turns, one of which got us flagged down by
some local police.
After a few left turns
we found the hotel and decided on an immediate stomach
update. The Ammanese are very friendly and we found the
Jerusalem restaurant without too many problems
en
route we met Sultan (if youre reading this Sultan
then hello and thanks). After Jerusalems we
embarked on having a sweet - the expression Dessert
Storm has taken on a whole new meaning - there is a
remarkably dangerous array of sugary based products for
sale in this region. The evening was topped off with
Turkish coffee and backgammon.
Next day (Thursday 13th
November 1997)
breakfast consisted of coffee, pita
bread, jam and the "La Vache qui rit"
triangular shaped cheese
then off and out of
Amman. Full marks to Fred for not having sweaty armpit
marks on his grey "American Rattlesnake Museum"
T-Shirt
the driving can be very creative at times.
We finally found the Kings highway - a very twisty,
turny mountainous road that cuts through the heart of
Jordan. First stop was Madaba to explore the mosaics of
the St.George church - 4 Jordanian Dinars (JDs) later and
a visit to the archeological museum we carried on
southwards
towards Petra. Yet another stop from
the local police at Kerak; this time they wanted to
hitchhike, in the back of the car.
Room 303 of the Petra
Palace hotel looks out at the red neon sign for the
Sun Set Hotel and the bouldery mountain-like
surface of this 2,600 year old site.
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