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.

The hidden perks of traveling with your mother.

Dubai, UAE

Day Five

On our last full day in the UAE, Mary and I schlepped it on down to Dubai. Like Abu Dhabi, Dubai is a playground for the rich, only on a much larger scale.

Because we feel a strong connection to the common man, Mary and I decided that we should take the bus, instead of a hiring a cab for the two-hour trip east.

Little did we know that this would be probably the most interesting part of the day.

Due to the UAE’s religious and cultural practices women and men don’t really mix, unless they are related. This means that there are two queues for most things; a men’s queue and a women and children’s queue.

The women’s queue is almost always shorter.

So after purchasing our 15 AED tickets (the taxi would have cost us around 200) we slipped past the 100 odd man queue and tacked our selves on to the 20 deep women’s queue.

Naturally I was permitted to come along too, although I did see two dudes kicked off the end of the women’s line by a station official. They had forgotten to bring their mother with them.

After a comfortable bus ride across the desert we arrived in Dubai. 

First stop the Burj Khalifa. This is the world’s tallest building, so the first thing you notice about it is how tall it is. I can’t remember exactly how tall, but it’s pretty damn tall. In fact I can’t say I’ve never seen a taller building, because there isn’t one.

So we had lunch in the shadow of the Khalifa, marveled at it’s tallness, watched a ridiculous but spectacular water fountain display set to opera music and then moved on.

The rest of the day was a bit of a bust. I’d stupidly left the guidebook in Abu Dhabi and we’d forgotten to arrange tickets to the top and it was booked solid for the next two days.

So we spent the rest of the day ambling around the city. And then took the bus home (Again playing the gender card to get us on a bus sooner. Thanks Mary).

Anyway I didn’t shoot much so here are a couple of shots of the Burj Khalifa.

In the words of Professor Hubert J. Farnsworth, "Pretty long, eh?"

The dark lines in the water are the pipes which make up the fountain.  It was pretty impressive, but quite ridiculous.

Camels. In the desert.

Abu Dhabi, UAE 

Day 4.

After faffing around on the internet for bloody ages trying to find out which desert safari was the best I decided to stuff it and just ask the dudes at our hotel to sort it.

Sort it they did. At around three in the afternoon a lovely young Yemeni dude called Mohammed driving a huge Toyota Landcuriser picked up Mary and me at our hotel. 

The poor bugger was struggling to contact another pair of travelers who where set to join us on our adventure, so he handed his mobile to me to negotiate our rendezvous.

With the pair of affable Canadians and my mum in the back seat I was up front with Mohammed, asking him dorky questions about his family. (A wife and four kids, not bad for a dude who couldn’t be much older than me).

It wasn’t too long until the highway stretched in front of us with only sand and small shrubs to the left and right.

Now it was time for some dune bashing. Peeling off from the highway we met up with a convoy of some 20 other tourist laden four-wheel drives. 

Mohammed took us screaming up and down 20m high dunes, taking especial pleasure in driving along the crest of extremely steep dunes, and waggling the steering wheel, threatening to spill us over the sides.

The rest of the safari involved a visit to a camel farm, a chance to run up and down the dunes, more dune bashing and finally dinner and shisha smoking at a “traditional Bedouin village”.

It was a pretty great day. Lots of fun. 

Once you frame out all the other tourists, you can make it seem like you're the only dude there with a camera.

Camels. They are pretty great.

I can't stress enough how fun this was.

Tourists love the hell out of the desert.

Mary in the desert.

I swear to god that I did not plant this pack of camels. In the desert. This was probably the best thing I saw all day.

Shoes were a bad choice.

Mohammed, probably the best driver in the UAE.

A "traditional" Australian beer, in a "traditional" bedouin camp.There are at least two thing wrong with this image.

If smoking cigarettes was like smoking shisha. Everyone would smoke all the time.

Sheik Zayed Grand Mosque

Abu Dhabi, UAE

Day 3

After a day of faffing about it was time to see the sights. So Mary and I jumped in a cab and sped off to the Sheik Zayed Grand Mosque.

This amazing marble monolith is pretty great. It's the 8th largest in the world and can accomodate 40,000 worshipers. Unfortunately tourists aren't allowed to come and gawk at prayer time, but we are allowed to come and gawk between prayers.

Still, the mosque is quite impressive sans worshipers.

Surrounded by four huge minarets and topped with huge marble domes, the mosque, while kind of gaudy (check out the chandelier below), is  pretty awe inspiring.

I was able to walk around in my shirt and jeans, Mary, however had to cover up in a supplied headscarf and robe.

I couldn't help but think of the palace from Aladin as we drove up in our cab.

This is the men's prayer hall. The persian rug that covers the floor was apparently hand woven by over 1000 women in Iran.

This is a far cry from the last mosque I visited in Doncaster.