More Rum Fun.

Aqaba, Jordan
Day 10

The cold of the desert night has a deleterious effect on your camera batteries. It really sucks the life out of them.

Most of my shots from day two in Wadi Rum are on a roll or two of film in my backpack, so it'll be ages before I get them back.

I was the first of my group to wake up, so I decided to go for a walk. I schlepped about 1 km away from the camp site and watched the colours change on the rocks as the sun slowly crept up behind me. It is so peaceful out there.

The sand is streaked with the small tracks of lizards and other desert critters who have scurried about during the night, as well as the soft round tracks that camels make.

I sat on the cold sand with the sun on my back, reading my book for about an hour, the only living thing I saw was a dude riding a camel, slowly crossing the desert in front of me.

Eventually the rest of the crew were up and about and breakfast was served. Hummus, matabal, zarta, labneh, olive oil, pita bread and bean porridge type thing called fooule with sweet tea seasoned with sage.

The rest of the day was taken up by a four wheel drive trip around to some of the rock formations around Wadi Rum, some sand dune climbing, camel riding and a visit to what is left of T.E Lawrence's house.

Camels are really great creatures, the one I rode was called Roham, or something like that. He kept nuzzling into the back of one of the girls in front of me, smearing streaks of camel spit all over her T-shirt.

The camel behind me also tried to eat my camera.

When all our touristing was done the four of us jumped into a cab and headed south to Aqaba, a beach town on the Red Sea. From my hotel room you can see Egypt across the water, and down the street there is a sign saying 10km to Saudi. In the other direction is Israel.

We got stopped on our way to the beach in a cab by a M-16 wielding Jordanian military dude. After checking our passports he waved us on with a smile saying, "Welcome to Jordan". Thanks dude! It turns out the beach club we were going to go snorkelling from was right next to a naval base.

This siq in Wadi Rum leads to what smelt like a Bedouin urinal. We all agreed that the tour guides directed us to go down there as a joke.

This small pile of rocks sits on the remains of T.E Lawrence's desert home.

One of the last shots before my second camera battery died...

Eugene of Arabia

Wadi Rum, Jordan

Day 9

Have you seen Lawrence of Arabia? Good, me neither. It’s on my list of films to see.

As of yesterday it is the top of my list, because I spent last night in the desert of Wadi Rum, the home of T.E Lawrence. Only an two hour drive from Petra, this is an amazing patch of desert.

Before setting off for the desert I had to see Petra once more. Matt and I arranged to get to the ruins early in the morning to beat the tourist rush that hits around 11:00. 

It was well worth it.

We scrambled up to the "High Place of Sacrifice", where the original inhabitants dragged sheep and cows to one of the highest peeks in the area to meet a grisly end. It gave a great view of the area. The lanscape is so amazing that it makes you giddy. 

Following a quick snack of nuts, sultanas and bananas, eaten while perched on the base of Roman era columns we decided to head back to town.

You could spend days scrambling around the rocks of Petra, pretending to be Indiana Jones, but we both wanted to head south into the desert and pretend to be Lawrence of Arabia.

As well as bumping into Matt on the way to Petra, the two of us ran into an American named Caroline and a Brit named Eirwen. Seeing as the four of us were traveling solo, we decided to team up and head into the desert.

Wadi Rum is beautiful. The sense of space is staggering, but perhaps what is most striking is the silence. If you hold your breath, you can’t hear a single thing.

After spending the better part of two days in Petra, the four of us children-of-the-nineties had a huge desire to watch Indiana Jones. Luckily we are all addicted to technology and had three laptops between us, with the required film loaded onto one USB memory stick.

After we had shared a huge desert BBQ and a shisha thanks to our hosts at the camp we rugged up, set up a laptop on a backpack and watched Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade under the stars in the Jordanian desert.

It was a far cry from being T.E Lawrence, but it was still amazing. 

Petra. So fantastic.

There are so many caves to explore. Many were inhabited until quite recently by local Bedouins, but the were booted out when the are became a world heritage site.

Matt on the way up to the "High Place of Sacrifice"

There are heaps of well fed, friendly cats all over Petra.

Horses and cart ferry tourists down the siq to the treasury at Petra.

This old gent has such a great face. He was selling trinkets for tourists. If the antique lamp I bought off him is as old as he says it is, I'll bite my arm off.

One small step for tourism...

The Wadi Rum

This is the camp. We were the only people there.

Roughing it.

Indiana Jones and the Sleazy Tour Guide.

Wadi Masua, Jordan

Day 8

At 5:30am it was time for my last cold shower in Amman. I couldn’t face it so I just splashed my face and brushed my teeth. I didn’t care if I stunk out the three hour bus to Wadi Musa.

Wadi Musa is a small village that is perched next to ruins of Petra.

I’m ashamed to admit it but until reading my Lonely Planet I had just assumed that Petra was a figment of George Lucas’s imagination, like Jar-Jar Binks, only majestic and wonderful.

I had seen it many times as a kid watching Harrison Ford and Sean Connery arrive at Petra to find the Holy Grail at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

I had no idea it existed, I had no idea it was in Jordan and I had no Idea it was called Petra.

Anyway, it exists and it’s amazing.

Carved out of huge sandstone mountains and valleys, this ancient city was once, as my tour guide described it as, the Hong Kong or Singapore of it’s day. It was a trading hub for spices coming from India, but when the route changed, the city was neglected and more or less abandoned, except for nomadic tribes of Bedouins who lived in the various small hollowed out caves.

Our tour guide, a local dude who had studied politics at university, rattled off stats and tales about the city with a decidedly bored manner. Every now and again I’d see his eyes track something behind us.

It didn’t take long for me to figure out what he was looking at. He was checking out every female tourist who walked passed. I had to marvel at his consistency. This guy didn’t miss a thing.

After our tour I was free to wander the old city. I’d met an American guy called Matt on the bus, and we climbed to a peak to watch the sun set over the desert.

Petra is awesome. In the literal sense of the word.

The treasury building, as discovered by Indiana Jones.

The monastery building, unfortunately featured in one of the Transformers films

These poor dudes are all over the place trying to sell you stuff, they are pretty relaxed about it though.

The treasury appears after waling through a narrow canyon called a "siq".

The monastery at dusk.

The first stooging.

Amman, Jordan

Day 7

Today was about two things. Food and Romans. After freezing shower (see yesterday's blog), I hit the streets to see Amman’s two big sights; the ruins of the citadel and the Roman theater.

After winding my way up steep steps I was eventually flagged down by a young lady who pointed me in the direction of the entrance to the citadel, which sits on Amman’s highest hill.

After pointing leading me through a narrow passage way and up some more steps we were at the top. She then put her hand out and asked for 5 dinars.

“For guide?” I asked,

“Yes, for guide, five dinars”

Thinking I was going to get a tour of the ruins by a local I though, why not and stupidly handed over the cash.

“Shookran” (Thankyou) she said, and pointed me to the ancient site. As I started walking I turned to see if my “guide” was following.

She was not. She had pocketed my cash and was heading back the way we came. Blowing me a kiss she said in accented English “Good bye! You are pretty!”

I had been stooged. Paying over $5 for a shortcut to the ruins. Next time I get stooged I’ll at least haggle the price a bit

Anyway the ruins of the ancient citadel were pretty great. You just don’t see that many ruined Roman temples in Melbourne, so it was all very interesting.

Next stop lunch. Sitting on plastic chairs, shoveling delicious fresh hummus into my face with equally fresh bread I remembered why I cam to this part of the world; the food. It’s great! Washed down with a steaming glass of sweet tea; and a pile of delicious falafel; perfection.

After lunch I legged it down to the Roman Theater. This thing is almost 2,000 years old. It’s in fantastic condition. After climbing up the steep steps I sat down to take in the view and finish off the book I’ve been reading (Absurdistan, by ABC jurno Eric Campbell).

It seems that the theatre is make-out-point in downtown Amman, with young locals canoodling and giggling along top level. Apparently even in an ancient theater, the best place to make out is the back row.

Stay tuned, tomorrow I travel south to Petra (the place were they filmed Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade)

My camera (a Fuji X100 for those nerds out there) stitched this panorama together. Not too shabby. Double click on it to see it bigger.

This temple was build to honour Hercules.

The citadel gives great views of Amman.

This was such a great lunch. There were originally more felafel, but I'd already scoffed most of them before I remembered to get a pic.

The Roman Theater.

As well as young couples, local kid come to the theatre to muck around.

This guy called me over, "Hello, photo, photo!" Much to the amusement of his mates, I obliged him.

Purchased a bunch of bananas from this dude for tomorrows four hour trip down south to Petra.

And some sultanas and nuts from these guys.

Amman for all seasons.

Amman, Jordan

Day 6

Alternative titles: 

Amman with a van.

Amman about town.

I'm off to see Amman about a dog.

It's Amman's world.

Amman's best friend.

Amman is not an island.

Amman is not a camel.

Amman cannot live on bread alone.

What Amman, what Amman, what a mighty, mighty good Amman.

 Cab drivers are fantastically consistent the world over. The dude who took me from my hotel to the Abu Dhabi airport fit the mould perfectly. At 120km/h he was texting and listening to what I presume was Arabic talk back radio.

My three hour flight to Amman, the capital city of Jordan was pretty uneventful. I was sitting next to an understated dude called Zack, a Palestinian who was returning home from Abu Dhabi for some dental work and a holiday before heading back to his job as an Ambulance dispatcher for a private medical service in the UAE.

He was kind enough to give me some helpful words in Arabic.

As we landed I was furiously reading the lonely planet to get my head around the city and plan my next step.

Amman is cold. The forecast said the top was going to be 10 degrees when I landed, and there had been snow a few days prior. You could still see brown clumps of it on the side of the road as the airport shuttle bus grinded its way into town.

I was soon checked into my little hotel. It’s a modest place; the only real short falling is that the hot water is pretty much non-existent.  I couldn’t face immersing self in the shower this morning so I stood in the recess splashing handfuls of icy water over my body. Bracing.

Last night I walked around downtown Amman. It couldn’t be more different from Abu Dhabi. It’s noisy, crowded, there are people actually walking around and I have yet to see a single Porche or even a Ferrari.

It’s great to be in a city that’s got soul. That doesn’t feel like a movie set. Although I do miss the hot water…

Basan who runs a shawarma stall in the Downtown area cooked me up a tasty dinner. 

The old part of the city where I'm staying is dotted with ruins that date back to Roman times.