I am sitting at the beach now, enjoying a wonderful view of the dead sea and an idyllic mid-20s breeze under the shade of a bamboo umbrella. It doesn't get much better than this. On the whole, I'd say this has to rank as one of the best trips I've done yet; everything has gone off without a hitch and the experiences have been both varied and incredible. I'm thinking I'll do a top 10 recap and post some pictures when I'm back home. For now, here's the skinny on my time in Jordan:
- met my transfer at the airport for a very speedy ride to New Park Hotel. Unlike Egyptians, Jordanians do exhibit an awareness of traffic lanes, but they have not yet obtained a knowledge competence level in that skill set. New Park had a great location, walking distance to everything I needed, and a helpful staff, including what I would swear was an Arabic clone of the guy from take home chef on the food network. But the good stopped there... Worst hotel I've stayed in on this trip, reminding me more of my western dorm room than an adequate hotel. The dearth of heat forced me to skip morning showers and a toilet that stops working isn't even funny when you are still battling a bit of traveller tummy. I am officially retiring from hotel bargain hunting. The upgrade to misk hotel when I got back to Amman has been money well spent, with comfy beds, a heater that works, and a flesh-ripping hot shower that would make a dodge ball proud while still under $80 a night.
- started the next morning with the included breakfast (1 hard boiled egg and some cold pita), then went in search of the bus station to get tickets to Petra. Next thing I knew I was sitting in the back of a shared taxi, wedged between the door and a local who translated to the driver for me. It cost all of about 50 cents for a 3.5 km ride up the hill. Which reminds me, Amman definitely rivals San Fran for its hillyness. Possibly even exceeds it.
- had planned to catch a cab back as well, but upon stepping out of the station I saw what was easily the largest mosque dome I've ever encountered in the distance and decided I'd go for a little walk. Ended up walking the whole way back, which was quite enjoyable being all down hill and gave me the chance to see more of the local life here. Stopped into a supermarket with cut to order cheese and a smoking cashier, grabbed a chicken "wrap" at a local restaurant which was more like a delicious chicken pita calzone, took photos of said mosque, and of course got to stroll through the local protests.
- hiked up 240000 flights of stairs to the citadel for some terrific views of the city, then strolled through the downtown area to continue to graze on local delicacies for my dinner: some baklava topped pastries, fresh sugar cane juice (it's like wheat grass juice with 45 pounds of sugar), and a feast of falefel, hummus, and pita that left me beyond stuffed for less than $1. Food is very cheap here.
- got up at the crack of dawn the next morning to catch the 6:30 bus to Petra and arrived in the bigger-than-expected Wadi Musa about 10:00. Tried to meet back up with Kevin and Colm but they were already deep in the site so we agreed to settle for a post hike beer together back in town later.
- struck out on my own instead, determined to try the alternate siq into Petra so I could avoid my first glimpse of the treasury until the night walk. No amount of "it's not allowed" and "danger" warning signs would deter me. The guides wanted 50 dinars (about 70 Canadian dollars) so I shirked them off, and just hung around taking pictures until the tourist police didn't seem to be paying attention, then started slipping around various rock formations until I was out of site. It was absolutely incredible! I don't know if either words or pictures will really do it justice, but I was immediately alone in some of the most beautiful and unique wilderness I've ever seen, with massive rock walls on either side of me and indescribably colored and twisted rock formations from eons of flash floods all throughout. There was no one else back there save a few bedouin shepherds who called out to tell me the way, and when they started playing a flute as I passed, the sound echoing throughout the narrow gorge left me feeling like I was in another world.
I downclimbed to the bottom of the siq to walk along the water carved path, and time passed by without any sense of how far I had gone given my slow, jaw dropped pace. As the wadi narrowed the hike became a bit more difficult... Boulders the size of cars had been lodged and left suspended between the walls, sometimes with smaller stones literally embedded right into them, and I was dumbfounded by the forces the flash floods could produce as I climbed over and under the evidence. I had read up a bit on this route and knew it was the tail end of the rainy season, and that if it rained anywhere within 50km it could fill this gorge pretty quick, so I had kept an eye on the forecasts and sky a head of time. Even so, I have to admit being a little nerve-wracked back there on my own. I didn't know if there were snakes or other creepy-crawlies I needed to be aware of, and was double checking every hand-hold before I touched it. Planes passing overhead occasionally caused an echo that sounded like distant rushing water and often gave me pause. At one point a plastic bag suddenly blew around a corner ahead of me and nearly unleashed another spontaneous bout of traveller tummy. This was my version of 127 hours, and probably not the brightest thing I've ever done, but I figured as long as there were other footprints and a couple bars on my cell reception, it wasn't the stupidest thing I'd ever done either and so kept going. I finally hit a point with several more wedged boulders with a narrow drop on the other side of about 15 feet and started questioning my course of action but was too curious about what was beyond to stop there. It took some doing getting down, keeping 127 hours in mind I was neither willing to drop my backpack down to commit nor set it down at the top in case I fell and desperately needed the contents. The only handholds on the water smoothed rocks where on the boulders and I didn't want to risk dislodging one on top of me so I held most of my weight by pressing against both walls while trying to hang on to my pack and slowly lower myself down, second guessing myself and considering turning back several times over. Eventually I got down though, went 10 more yards, then hit a deep and long stretch of water that reached to both walls along its entire length. Not entirely impassable, but there was more past it, and all other footprints had now ceased to exist, so I finally smartened up and turned back. I had been telling myself that climbing back up would be easier and was calling myself rather unpleasant names the whole way back when that turned out not to be case. But eventually I hit the wider parts again, and then the Bedouin, who I stopped to talk to and gave them cookies and water. Tried asking questions about whether I had been going the right way or not but couldn't get a good answer. They just kept point back to the main entrance and saying "big siq, big siq".
So back to the big siq I went, and boy did that cause a commotion when I came strolling in right down the middle of the tunnel this time. The tourist police thought I had snuck into the park and demanded to see my ticket, then reprimanded me for going back there alone and told me I was lucky. In truth, I don't think it was all that dangerous. Others do it, and it's even shown on the main site map, plus I had told Kevin and Colm where I was going just in case. In hindsight though all the "not allowed" statements might have been referring to it still being rainy season and it's quite possible they only allow it during dry season, which would explain why there was water blocking the path.
Anyway, it was totally worth it and an undisputed highlight of my trip.
- getting back to the main entrance, I headed into Petra proper. Not much I can say about that, it easily rivals machu pichu in my mind and simply has to be experienced in person. The siq, though not as impressive after my wadi muthlim experience, was still cool, and no amount of pictures can prepare you for your first glimpse of the treasury. Went on a little further to the amphitheater, gawking the whole way, then headed back to town to meet Kevin and Colm for a beer. Was great to see them and have some company again. We did the Petra by night walk together, which was quite forgettable. Did not meet expectations at all.
- second day I way overslept and didn't have time to hike to the other end of Petra, so decided not to redo the sections I'd already done. To be honest, I didn't mind spending the day relaxing in the hotel lobby. Egypt and Tanzania aren't places you do much walking, spending most of your time in a jeep, bus, boat, or train, as eager to avoid the aggressive peddlers as any trouble you might find. So after two weeks of hardly any exercise, I walked over 20kms the first 2 days in Jordan and didn't feel like moving much on the third. Plus I was happy to skip another run through the hassle gauntlet. I've completely hit my limit in that and have started becoming just as aggressive back. Fortunately it was non existent in Amman so wadi musa should be the last I see of it.
- speaking of which, outside the pests in Petra, I'm really liking Jordan. While the Egyptians were surprisingly friendly, they could get abruptly rude as soon as they realized you weren't going to buy anything, and you had to pay attention to avoid getting screwed over any chance they got. The Jordanians on the other hand I've found to be more laid back, helpful without expectation, and most importantly very honest. A couple of times I handed someone more cash then I should have, and they just smiled, gave me the right change back, and took the time to explain the amounts and values of the change so I'd understand. They appreciate but don't demand baksheesh, and even their protests are peaceful and subdued. The country is far more lush too; north of queen Alia airport I saw honest to goodness grass growing in actual dirt instead of just sand. The weather has been a bit chilly, but far more to my liking. In short, I'd say Jordan is like the Canada of the middle east. It would make for a very comfortable and relaxing vacation, with history, culture, nature, weather and beaches all in one. Highly recommended, and I wouldn't mind at all if I found myself back here someday.
- The dead sea was, well, the dead sea. Began with a beautiful drive out from Amman, then docked at the dead sea spa hotel for the day. It's pretty cool to be able to stand upright I water without being able to touch the bottom nor needing to tread at all. Twas a bit chilly, but the top 10 inches or so are significantly warmer than the water below, and fortunately that's all you need when floating. The water even moves differently, with the subtle rolling waves leaving the even gentler ripples unaffected. Swam out deeper on my own this morning, it looked like a deep green-blue sheet of silk as far as I could see. Finish it off with a rest on the beach while drying into a salt cake, and the best buffet lunch I've seen in this part of the world, and it's a fantastic way to end the trip. I can't remember the last time I felt this content.
I'll have to bottle up this feeling and try to hang on to it tomorrow, cause I'll be leaving my hotel at 5:30AM to embark on a 24 hour journey home. Stay tuned for more pictures and a recap when I get there. And after I sleep.
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