Jordan

What do people know about Jordan? Famously and perhaps rather self indulgently created by Winston Churchill "in an afternoon", Jordan is regularly overlooked or unfairly associated with its neighbours: Israel, Saudi Arabia, Syria or Iraq. It is a land full of Biblical places and of course Lawrence of Arabia.

It's appropriate to address safety concerns upfront: lots of people thought we were crazy to be going. Perhaps the most entertaining reaction was from the taxi driver who took us to Jersey Airport, referring to us as "Mr and Mrs Bond". The first day we were there was the deadline for Iraq to come clean with the U.N.; although with a 12,000 page document written in Arabic and multiple CDs for the Security Council to plough through we came to appreciate the delaying power of paperwork. With all due respect: considering Jordan to be dangerous is simply being sincerely misinformed. Yet it is this kind of misinformation that provides terrorists with exactly the result they want, as well as destroying the livelihoods of locals.

Our flights with KLM (bad connections, average service, lost luggage) are best not dwelt upon. Upon arrival at Amman the driver of our hire car, Jarmal, met us. Prior to arrival I had somewhat romantically envisaged that our time would be a cross between Lawrence of Arabia and Driving Miss Daisy. However Jarmal was more accurately described as a hustler with frustrated Daytona ambitions: but more on that later.

Our first night was spent at Madaba, a city built on the ancient capital of the Moabites. Somewhere in the surrounding ancient Moabite kingdom is the final resting place of Moses. This city is one of the strongholds of the 10% of Jordan's population who are Christians, has amazing mosaics, and is an excellent place to explore Western Jordan from. Our hotel was clean, friendly and non-descript, except Jen was amused by the squirty thing on the side of the toilet. Not realising that Jordan is a sans paper jurisdiction, Andrew blocked the toilet. Amazingly the proprietor allowed us access to the plumbing for another night.

The first day, Sunday, we ventured out to see Jerash in the north, a pretty spectacular ruined city of mainly Roman origin. It was here that we first got a good feel for how badly tourism has been affected in Jordan: we saw less than 2 dozen tourists in the few hours we were there, even though Jerash is probably in the top four destinations.

Later that day we went to where Jesus was very probably baptised in the River Jordan: now on the Jordanian side of the river. Despite the scurrilous and highly successful Israeli claims that he was baptised on their side, the Bible and archeology supports the Jordanians: why else would the early Byzantines build three Churches on a particular spot that were all either washed away by the Jordan or damaged by earthquakes?

The Jordan River itself these days is a rather massive letdown. Our Jordan Handbook describes the situation rather well: "…for all its vast historic and symbolic importance the Jordan here is in reality just a small, muddy and altogether unassuming stream…". What makes the place rather surreal however are the visible efforts of both Jordan and Israel to muscle in on the lucrative pilgrim trade against the backdrop of one of the more overtly militarised borders in the world. For example, the Jordanians have built a Millennium Baptism Pool in the hope the pilgrims will materialise; and its just down the road from where a few Jordanian troops, kitted out with a jeep mounted heavy machine gun, occasionally look at the nearby Israeli lookout. Ostensibly both sides are presumably there to stop the usual suspects from trying to sneak into the West Bank to cause havoc, probably a part of the 1994 Peace Treaty. It looks like a marriage of convenience.

A small tip: if you do decide to go to Jordan we strongly suggest you take Mastercard not VISA. Different places told us that the Jordanian Visa processing centre often refuses to process non-Jordanian VISA cards. We even lost over an hour of holiday time, as we had to backtrack to the car hire company and give them new payment details.

On Monday we headed south from Madaba on the King's Highway into the mountains, following a roughly elliptical route that would take us four days. Early on we crossed the spectacular 4km wide and 0.4km+ deep Wadi Mujib gorge. The first significant stop was the Crusader Fortress in the town of Kerak. Looking around this site could perhaps best be described as paying money to be sandblasted, although there were some good vistas. One of the handful of tourists we met that day was in Kerak; he had just come from the localised trouble spot of Ma'an, reporting "the locals were really pleased to see him". Continuing on we arrived at the partly reinhabited Bedouin village of Dana. Rather incongruously Dana is strewn with rubbish, even though it makes it money from eco-tourism conducted in the valley below.

We started walking into Petra the next morning about 7:15am. Entry is via the atmospheric Siq or gully, now concreted to provide access for wheelchairs etc. Although The Treasury has fronted innumerable postcards, little can prepare you for your first glimpse: it's that good. Petra is justifiably Jordan's premier tourist spot. Even given the current geo-political situation, the time of year and the time of day, we were surprised to enter Petra proper as the solitary tourists. In fact we didn't see any for the first 3 hours, nor thankfully were we hassled by Bedouin touts. Our sole companions during this time were both black and noisy. First was a goat that rather endearingly followed us and then lead us up a steep rocky path. Further on, a cat took over, but we silenced him with bread. It was so quiet even a number of the Bedouin "shops" were deserted; at least some of their owners were probably still celebrating the end of Ramadan

Our peace was not to last. As we came down the other side of the rocky hill we started to see tourists and the touting begin. Bedouins were selling a plethora of ugly trinkets and unnecessary services, and they employed hard sell. The "locally made" trinkets are manufactured largely in the Far East, with a reasonably standard price of "1 Dinar". Then there are ubiquitous "Roman" and "Nabatean" coins local Bedouins "just happen to have dug up" which are being flogged for the same bargain basement cost. First we didn't buy any because if they were genuine it was probably illegal to trade them. Later we found out the Bedouins actually make these, and "age" them for a few weeks in sand. Perhaps the most opportunistic Bedouin was a kid of about 4 who insisted on guiding us for about 20 metres and wanted a 1 Dinar fee for it. Despite extra government incentives few Bedouin children around Petra go to school: during peak season a Bedouin with a horse can earn about £2700 a month taking tourists around, a fortune in a poor country.

Despite the commercialism, there are so many interesting things to see at Petra that you won't be disappointed. Unfortunately during our time there it was overcast but it was still worth the effort. Perhaps our best memory was of The Monastery, accessible only after a strenuous walk running the gauntlet for Bedouin stalls. This 47m wide and 40m high building carved into the side of a peak is truly staggering. Unlike The Treasury, there are great views near by and brave people can clamber around on top. When we arrived a Bedouin was inside playing traditional music: it was very atmospheric.

We enjoyed the national dish, Mensaff, at the Red Cave restaurant near Petra. Mensaff consists typically of lamb, herbs, rice, almonds and yoghurt, served with a minor tower of unleavened discs of bread. Our first evening there we also endured a Turkish massage. The masseur kept telling Andrew to relax and "fall asleep" as he busily attempted to crack joints while pulling limbs in various directions. Andrew was quite happy that he didn't attempt to stand on him while he was doing this, given his not inconsequential frame. Jennifer's experience was painful and bruising. That is one thing we aren't going to try again.

After Petra we stayed overnight in a smoky, sandy and expensive Bedouin camp, although the entertainment was somewhat amusing. The next day we rose at 5:50am to prepare for our full day trip around Lawrence of Arabia country: Wadi Rum, complete with our own Bedouin Guide and 4x4. Rum is truly spectacular desert wilderness: a landscape photographer's dream. Imagine large lumps of rock in a pretty desert, eroded over the eons to resemble giant pancake piles dripping with maple syrup. Throw in desert colours, clear blue sky, ancient rock drawings, some Bedouins, goats and camels to complete the picture. And bar the minor crowd at the sunset spot at the end of the day, it was even freer of tourists than other major tourists spots.

A short word on the differences between the sexes in Jordan. Women wear everything from the full burqa or full burqa with a gap for the eyes (rare), covering for the hair (common), or no head covering at all (uncommon). Women are seen commonly on the street although it has to be said that every night in Jordan appears to be largely "lads night out", where moustache free non-smokers are very rare on the ground.

Our relationship with our driver Jarmal was perhaps best described as bitter sweet. He did get us out of a few difficult situations, but then he got us into a few as well. It took a fair while for him to realise that what we wanted was a driver not a guide, and he often seemed upset that we had our own ideas what to do. To smooth things over Andrew even sat up one night with him and his chain-smoking buddies eating undercooked sweet potato and sometimes burnt chestnuts. We were slightly perturbed at times that we had to manage Jarmal's emotions: whose holiday was it supposed to be?

Early on we told Jarmal about our horrific Italian driving experiences; did he try to compete with these? His "Toot first and ask questions later" attitude was admittedly common in Jordanian drivers. However more bizarre was Jarmal's desire to sit on the left hand side of the road as much as possible, even though Jordan drives on the right. We finally put our feet down when he was doing 182km/hr in a 90km/hr zone.

After Petra we stayed a night in Aqaba, but didn't have time to see some coral. The return trip (the western side of the ellipse) is a fast modern road. We stopped at Lot's Cave, not far from the probable Sodom and Gomorrah site. Unfortunately after hiking up the hill we discovered a sign saying it was closed for repairs. On the way back down, dirty looking kids, age perhaps no more than 12, asked for money. We said no and kept walking. Then one shouted, demanding money. We kept walking. Then the rock throwing started. We kept walking. Thankfully these urchins obviously hadn't practiced on armoured Israeli patrols, because no rock got close.

Next stop the Dead Sea, the lowest point on earth. Boats are banned under the peace treaty with Israel. We had a choice of 3 places to go to for a dip ranging from the luxurious to the run down: in the interests of economy we chose the latter, the Government owned "resort". After paying the entrance fee we were asked for more money in the shambolic rotting change rooms. Then it was a short walk down to the water, which only had a walkway part of the way down. We walked past the deserted lifeguard tower: why do you need a lifeguard for a body of water in which it is physically impossible to sink? Perhaps its for lone babies and people who are blinded by getting salt water in their eyes. The Dead Sea experience itself is bizarre and fun: you float so well you can't swim properly, and the salt feels soft and itchy at the same time. After a while we clambered back out, up the dirt ridge to the popular outdoor shower, before Andrew felt obliged to give a donation in the shambolic change rooms. We are still not really sure what we paid for given the locals just pull over at the side of road and jump in. It would have been cheaper to buy bottled water for a "shower" afterwards.

On the Saturday we headed out on the highway towards Iraq, visiting a few "desert fortresses", Lawrence's fort, and a wildlife centre. Then it was back to the capital Amman (formerly called Philadelphia), to see the ruins in the centre of city which included an amphitheatre. However even Jarmal commented that by this stage we were just filling in time: these sights just couldn't compare with those earlier in the week. In the evening Jarmal took us out to his favourite restaurant, which served excellent food, albeit in traditional mountainous quantities.

After stretching things out on Saturday we still ended up at Queen Alia International Airport over 6 hours early for our flight. This was a frustrating wait. Men, including officials, smoked seemingly everywhere, ignoring the ubiquitous "No Smoking" signs and frequent announcements. And it is the Airport which belies as much as anywhere that Jordan is still very much a developing country: there were no fewer than 9 checks / counters to get through to get on to the plane. Talk about unnecessary job creation.

The wonder of places like Petra and Wadi Rum made the small challenges we faced just that. We can thoroughly recommend a week in Jordan: go and be petrafied.

Andrew & Jen

Notes:

· The entire photo collection can be seen here