One of the reasons we decided to come and live in Egypt was because we had a real desire to travel in the Middle East. Historically, it is saturated with great tales of trade and conquest by the greatest empires the world has seen. Last year, for the Easter hols, we had wanted to do a tour of Syria and Jordan. Alas, the repercussions of the Arab Spring put a cork in those plans! This year, I was determined we would go to Jordan, a liberal state with a relatively popular king. Growing up, I had seen good deeds done by the diminutive King Hussein and his glamorous wife Queen Noor. Since 1999, he has been replaced by his son Abdulla and his impossibly svelte wife Rania.
It is also the country where one of my great fabled destinations is to be found: Petra. So, in good faith, we booked it all through a recommended agency. We would not join any groups but would have our own driver and our own itinerary. We would ‘tour’ as we pleased in our own time. We decided we had waited long enough for such a luxury!
Checking in at Cairo Terminal 1, I immediately saw the flight was going to be interesting. There was what looked like a group of senior ‘Saga’ trippers. They all looked a little bit lost but excited. I looked at them with some affection, as I could imagine them being my parents. When it was time to go to the gate, I noticed quite a few of them seated in the departure lounge but there were no guards. We waited outside, wondering what was going on. Moments later, a suited ‘official’ looking young man arrived. He then proceeded to herd them out with a uniformed colleague. The senior trippers had just gone in and sat down! Obediently, they came out and waited to be checked back in. Husband and I found this utterly amazing. In terms of security, this was a serious f**k up which we could not imagine anywhere else in the world! Once seated waiting to board, we speculated as to who they were and where they might be headed. We decided they were Egyptian and maybe Coptic Christians as one lady seem to have a lot of dried palm leaves in her bag. The Sunday before had been Palm Sunday, so maybe she had saved palms from that service. Either way, we did not think we would bump into them again. On the flight, they talked away on the mobiles and seem to ignore all instructions. They really did treat the flight like they were on a bus!
At Amman, we were indeed met our ‘meet and greet’ guy, a smartly dressed but poorly shaven character who reminded me of a Middle Eastern Del-Boy! He oozed ease from every pore and chatting in a familiar way with the Immigration staff, got us to our driver.
Our driver was a rather burly and cheerful character called Bader. His level of English was self-taught and excellent. He was Palestinian in origin, had lived in South Africa for a few years and was clearly made to work in the hospitality trade. He suggested subtle changes to our itinerary and kept us entertained with various national jokes and anecdotes. Over the six days, we grew fond of him and gauged from him and our local guides at Jerash and Petra how the politics of the region were shaping their lives. There was a real palpable anxiety that Egypt needed to ‘get their act together’ and that Syria too needed to find a solution to their troubles quickly. Amman’s gas supplies were being affected by sabotage to gas pipes on the Sinai peninsula and vegetable and fruit imports from Syria were being seriously affected. Bader’s mother also lived in Syria and he had been used to going there at least twice a month. Damascus was a mere hour and a half drive away. Jordan in the meantime had staved off trouble with a willing and popular king who had clearly been playing his cards right. Monarchy in this case was clearly providing some much needed stability. Everywhere we went, his image was omnipresent. On arrival at the airport, there is a triptych of his father King Hussein, himself (Abdulla) and his teenage son. The dynasty is clearly set to continue.
I noticed on the drive from the airport to the hotel, how green the landscape was. The roads were also excellent and the driving much more disciplined. Most of all, the air quality was wonderful. After Cairo, such considerations really start to matter! Our visit to Amman was relatively brief but gave an impression of a well kept city in general. None of the chaos we are familiar with in Cairo. The Citadel was quietly impressive and vibrant with flurries of yellow spring blooms. The downtown streets had a leisurely bustle about it and I particularly liked seeing the trucks of sugar canes. I had no idea Jordan produced sugar canes! These were stacked at cafes ready to be sold to greedy customers. Thinking of it now, I should have stopped Bader and taken some pictures.
The other impressive sight was the Roman Theatre which looked rather pristine. We took photos from vantage points and drove past it. We were told intermittent demonstrations happened around the area, but fortunately for us, it was a quiet Friday.
That evening, we had an unexpected sumptuous dinner at the hotel restaurant. There was a visiting Michelin starred chef from Bordeaux as part of some culinary exchange championed by the Institut Français. It was the most expensive meal we had ever had but it was utterly delicious. The lamb cooked in three ways was a particular pièce de résistance! Another bonus was the discovery that Jordanian wine is excellent; far better than the local Egyptian product we have become accustomed to. We worked out that food and drink in Jordan at ‘tourist’ level was not going to be cheap by any means! Michelin starred or no Michelin star!
The following day involved a drive to the North of the country. The landscape reminded me of Andalucia and Crete. Olive groves, scampering goats on hillsides, undulating terrain. There was a crispness and cleanness to it all, just like the air. Bader drove with the windows rolled down and we drank in the clean air like ones who had been in a desert drinking from an oasis.
Our first stop for the day was Umm Qais, a site on a hill overlooking the Golan Heights and the Sea of Galilee. The Roman remains were interesting, especially the theatre. The site was not crowded but there were families and crowds of noisy girls. Fortunately the views and the carpets of yellow flowers kept us in a good mood! Our next destination, however, was heaving. Even Bader was shocked by the volume of folk! It was Ajlun Castle, an impressive Mamluke fortress on a hillside, again with stunning views. We did the visit at speed and only lingered to take a few photos. Again, the loveliness of the location and the clean air made it all worthwhile. Then, we headed to Jerash. We had lunch of delicious, local food in a restaurant overlooking a verdant valley and then just made the last entry to see the wonderful Roman remains. I had read about the wealth of the city in Classical times, and was not disappointed by the quality of the place. As our visit progressed, there seemed to be fewer and fewer folk and we could linger in parts soaking in the history of the place. The Cardo Maximus, lined with beautiful Corinthian pillars made me dream of the city in its heyday, with merchants from all corners of the Middle East coming to trade and rest. Before earthquake damage in the 4th and 8th century BC, the Cardo could be followed to Arabia, Iran, Syria and the sea. Our guide Hassan had been a teacher for 7 years and a guide for one year. He was a dark squat smiling man wearing a cowboy hat and talked to husband as I clicked away a little distance behind them. He was an engaging guide, who had information and conversation. He too felt nervous about current events in the Middle East and how Jordan would fit in with it all. He clearly wanted to keep the liberal nature of their government and rule. In the well-preserved theatre we were surprised to be entertained by two Jordanians in Arab clothes playing the Scottish bagpipes. Apparently bagpipes have been very popular in Jordan since being introduced by the British. Hassan told us that these guys had previously been pipers in the Jordanian Army.
Our destination the following day was Wadi Rum, the place synonymous with TE Lawrence. I had known about his exploits since my teens and was keen to see the terrain which led to so much of the mythology surrounding this astonishing, pale-eyed, diminutive man. The Desert Highway leading south reminded me of the drive from Arizona to California. It was barren and desolate and dull. However, nearing Rum, shapes started to emerge from the land. We had lunch at a Bedouin campsite and Bader showed us one of the luxury tents. It was a white canvas creation, lined with carpets, beautifully made double bed and a mini bathroom! This was the sort of camping I could manage! Husband remarked how comfortable he imagined the late Colonel Gadaffi might have been in one many times its size! Our lunch was served in a clearly tourist tent, which was used for entertainment in the evenings. We were once again glad not to be part of a tour group! The lunch food however was gorgeous. The meat dishes melted in the mouth and the array of hummus based dips got gobbled up with the light flat bread and fresh salads. Then, we got our newly bought Bedouin scarves tied around our heads and jiggled away into the mass that was the Wadi Rum in the back of a truck driven by a very young looking Bedouin. The seats were lined and the driving comfortable enough. He stopped at various points so pictures could be taken and a cup of local tea shared with a weather beaten Bedouin. I am no lover of the desert, but what I saw took my breath away. These massive islands of rocks in a sea of red and ochre coloured sand were enchanting. On our various stops, the sound of silence was just as captivating. It became clear to me how someone could grow to love the desert. It became clear to me how Lawrence became seduced by it. We drove around for over two hours and only saw a tiny section of the Wadi. The gnarled rocks, with their bulbous weathered shapes looking like stacks of bones in places, compacted into huge pinnacles. It was especially wonderful to see the delicate animal inscriptions of the Nebataeans who had lived on these lands and prospered in Classical times. The following day, we would go the jewel of the Nebataean kingdom, Petra...
To anyone who knows anything about Petra, the rose red city hewn into the rocks as old as time, it seems almost impossible it could exist.
Bader got us our tickets, the most expensive for a visit anywhere we have ever been (approx £45 for a day pass!). Our guide was fetched and off we started. Mahmoud was an archaeology graduate who had worked as a guide for over twenty years. He was from Petra himself and again had knowledge and conversation. However, he did have terrible BO which made me stand away from him in moments. He took us thorough he history of the place, the geology of the landscape and the vegetation to be found. I wandered through the narrow gorge, the Siq, mesmerised. We were not alone, but it was not crowded either. Occasionally, the local horsemen galloped past or the horse drawn carriages whizzed by. We meandered through at a leisurely pace then, after about half an hour, Mahmoud told me to go and stand by a small rock on the ground. He then said, now look there... I turned my head to see a sight I had waited to see for nearly thirty years of my life. Through the sliver in the rock, there it stood; dusky pink and imposing, the segment of the Treasury which is everyone’s first view of Petra. I took a sharp intake of breath in wonder and joy. Mahmoud could see my delight. He smiled and tapped my shoulder. After a while, husband and he walked on and I stood, hand on my heart and praised all the gods above for the blessing of the moment.
We spent the following six hours, taking in the wonder of the city. Mahmoud pointed out key buildings, dwellings and tombs sharing their stories. I listened wishing I could go back in time to be a part of the city where the camel caravans came to trade, laden with frankincense and myrrh and spices from the East. This was a thriving metropolis, part of the Decapolis in Roman times. All the grand façades were now weathered but still held their majesty. Geologically, the colourful marbled stones added to the awe and wonder of the place. The changing light of the day made the place more evocative than ever. It was easy to take one’s time in a place where everything invites you to look and look again. As suggested by Mahmoud, we took the donkey ride to the monastery up in the hill. It was terrifying in moments as the mules knew their way and would stop for no one! Quite a few walking up and down were pinned against the walls in stages. Once aloft, the views of the gorge were stunning. I walked down, taking in the scenery and musing over the wonder of the whole place; a civilisation which had the simplest tools but endless ingenuity and vision, carving out a kingdom which would enchant century upon century after its naissance.
Our next destination before seeing the sea, was the Crusader castle of Kerak, an imposing edifice built on the ridge of a mountain with sheer drops on three sides. The views from it were stunning and Bader got us there before the madding crowd of tourist coaches. The initial information board was promising but they had yet to set up the numbered arrows or information stations. It also mentioned the museum was shut on Tuesday, but fortunately, it was not. Clearly, all was still in progress which made the guess work game more interesting! Walking around in relative peace and quiet, it was hard to believe Saladin had laid siege to it twice and won it at the third attempt, decapitating at a subsequent celebratory banquet Reynald le Chatillion, the dastardly Frankish Knight who was a scourge to the Christians and Muslims alike.
Our final hotel destination was at the Dead Sea. I had been looking forward to it, simply to be able to float. Not being much of a swimmer, I had always steered clear from going into the sea out of my depth. I was not disappointed. The resort was relatively quiet and being late evening, there were few people on the private beach. Encouraged by the bobbing bodies, I waded into the water and with help from husband, took my floating position! I just loved the sensation of knowing I could not sink! The following morning I was keener than ever. I noticed my skin felt smoother and I had a great sense of well-being. Clearly the Dead Sea suited Madame! I spent well over an hour in the water, just laying there or sitting in the water soaking up the sun. It was a gloriously relaxing time.
Our final two visits were to Mount Nebo, the site of Moses’ death and from where he saw the Promised Land. The place was heaving with noisy school girls but once again, the sweet air and the views made it worthwhile, however brief. Our final experience of Jordan was to the Mosaic Map at Madeba. Again, I had heard and read how amazing and how accurate for its age the piece was. The piece is in Greek Orthodox Church in the small town and there were only two other visitors in the Church. I had time to gaze upon a piece of wonder which charted the whole area in Classical Times. It was remarkable in its detail and art form.
Jordan is a remarkable country. I had no idea it had such variety of landscape and treasures, historical, geological and architectural. I am grateful beyond any prose that I have witnessed some of the greatest wonders of the world. Those sights and sensations will stay with me for my lifetime. I am certain of it.
