Jordan

A Rainbow City Half As Old As Time

Amman moves to number one in the list of the worlds most efficient airports. We are met by our Cresta tour rep before we reach passport control. The tour consists of Meg and I She chats her way past queues and officials dying to know our passport numbers and within 20 minutes of touchdown has passed us on to our personal driver who is to take us 300km. down the desert highway to Petra. It is late at night the sky is bible black, traffic is light we make no stops. The temperature is 35 centigrade. We speculate what it will be at 3-00 in the afternoon
At the Moevenpic we are made very welcome by a reception clerk who wants to organise our lives. He has upgraded us to a minor palace and can arrange a personal guide for three days with all entry fees paid for the sort of money that someone more used to minor palaces would probably pay without hesitation. We tell him we want the night to make our plans and surprisingly are allowed to keep our upgrade. Later we realise that it may not have been obvious how disappointed he was because the Jordanian's are also top of the league of politeness. I can understand why the staff think that tourists are wealthy. Our room costs £200/night, the average salary is £60 per month. We snack in a sumptuously decorated bar which reminds us of the Alhambra. .The only odd things about it are that it is empty and they are playing the shortest loop of tape I have ever heard. It repeats every 30 seconds
We plan an early start and obtain two 48 hour passes to Petra for a steep £25 each. We do not know at this stage how many tourist attractions Jordan has but we do know that this is the gem and Meg has wanted to come here for decades so there are no grumbles.
Near the entrance we are encouraged to take a horse or carriage but we know they cannot take us into the Siq and it is only a km down hill
The Siq is a canyon between 10 and 50 feet wide and 100 to 300 feet deep. It has been formed by an earthquake not a river. In some places overhangs block out the sky. The colour is predominantly red but there are many shades and some striping. It is cool and to my frequently expressed astonishment empty. A big plus for the Moevenpic is that it is only 200 metres from the entrance and most tourists will still be at breakfast or in coaches. . We continue to walk the magical path in blissful solitude. The Siq is about a km long and ends at the Treasury. Scene of many adventure films including Indiana Jones and The Mummy.
The treasury is well named.. For about 4000 years, the top people in the world were the Egyptians, Persians, Greeks, Roman, Babylonians and apparently Nabateans . The world, was the Mediterranean. If you wanted to use a land route round the Eastern end of the "World" a range of mountains blocked your path and through the range of mountains cut the Siq. Everybody you have ever heard of came this way. Caesar, Ptolemy, Herod, Moses, Alexander, Lawrence, Lionheart and many many more. They all had to pay the Nabateans who owned the Siq. The Nabateans built the Treasury. So today's £25 make us feel we were part of a very high prestige procession. High above the door of the Treasury is a sculptured urn peppered with bullet holes. Rumour had it that it was full of gold, but in fact it is solid. The Treasury is skin deep the magnificent façade fronts one large room though in truth we can not envisage what it looked like when the Greeks and Romans were passing through because the ground level is now several metres higher than is was..
The path continues, still in a canyon but wider than the Siq, past caves. Some are ornately carved, others just holes in the rock. Most were burial places, people who did not pay the toll we presume. The variety in colour is now much more striking. The rock is sandstone but some of the hilltops look like melted ice cream. The stripey effect is now much more evident. Reds whites, yellows and even blues. In addition the stripes often swirl. I now make an amazing discovery. Meg has been trying to get me here for years on the basis of the Siq and the Treasury. What she had not told me was that just past the Siq the wider valley was enclosed by mountains all of which could be reached on foot using dramatic footpaths . I now realise that our two day passes are woefully inadequate. We detour on a typical Ridley short cut to the Place of High Sacrifice, presumably yet more travellers who tried to sneak through without paying the toll. At the top are a couple of couples, Dutch and German and an electric blue lizard. Yet again we are in a place of great natural beauty, virtually alone. We have a multinational discussion on which of us should be sacrificed. As the oldest I appear to be the most expendable. On the way down we are entertained by a Bedouin girl who has found an acoustically ideal place to sing a haunting tune in dance rhythm. As neat a piece of marketing as I have ever come across. She also sells silver bracelets. Meg parts enthusiastically with a fiver. Back at valley floor level the temperature is climbing. We pause in the well preserved Roman theatre to sing a couple of bars of Donna Nobis from our Mount St. Mary's choir repertoire. A smattering of applause rattles round the empty theatre. I warm the ghostly audience that we may do an encore if they are not careful.. We enjoy a cooling coke in a nearby stripped and striped tomb that doubles as a café and feel it is time to head for the air conditioning. The sun beats down and we are glad of the shade in the Siq. Coach loads of Germans pass us on the way in. The carriages are confident of our business on the way back but there is a spring in our step and we burn up the final 1.2 of kms. We pause at the tourist centre by the entrance to enquire about Petra by night
"No our £25 two day tickets do not include the evening, that will be another £12 each.. The helpful official asks us where we have been? We tell him of our plans including our decision not to go to Wadi Rum because of the cost, £130 each. We had compared a travel company near the hotel with the receptionists offer.
He is called Jehad "My brother Mahdi will take you for £25 each and he will throw in Little Petra free" is his very competitive offer he tells us that the Arab/Palestinian conflict is a disaster for Petra and the temperature at the moment is about 7 degrees higher than average for this time of year. We enjoy the first of a series of very restful, even lazy afternoons between noon and 5pm. either in our suite with nothing worth watching on 30 channels or round the pool. I make the occasional sortie to the gym when I feel the need for exertion, which is well equipped and empty. We have lunch and dinner at a local restaurant we later find to be the top recommendation in the Rough guide. The Jordanian's approach to alcohol is different from that we encountered in Morocco with their surreptitious newspaper and special coke. .Here you can order Cote de Rhone at £35 per bottle. No other wine costs less that £60. We become tea total. Meg wants to get to Petra by Night early because she expects a reunion with the coach loads of Germans. We are virtually alone because it starts at 8-30 not 8-15. By kick off time the "crowd" has swelled to 6. Our guide requests silence as we walk to the Treasury to create the right atmosphere. Hundreds of candles light our route. Absentmindedly I fall into conversation with a Turkish couple who are writing a tour guide. I am still chattering away as we start. Meg reminds me of our vow of silence. The candles flicker in paper bags intended to protect the flames from the non existent evening breeze The Plough is directly overhead and a half moonlights the remainder of the sky. We pass a film crew. In the Siq the stars are even brighter. We expect a footing problem with the paved section but the low candles pick out the stone blocks clearly. The area in front of the Treasury is criss-crossed with rows of candles. A flute is playing. Later a Rebec (sort of violin) creates musical magic in the night. No one is complaining about the £12. We are served mint tea.
Our guide attempts to ruin the evening by delivering a lecture on the social customs of Jordan and Islam. This would have been better done in the tourist office. Silence , music or something of the history of the Nabateans was wanted here There is a strong temptation to get up and go but he stops just in time to save us causing him offence. We are tired and stride up the Siq ahead of the rest and the continuous chatter of the guide. I would have liked to finish the conversation with the Turks over coffee but they are well behind. The film crew have extinguished a number of our candles but the moon is sufficient. It is still hot and sultry.
We aim for an even earlier start but are constrained by breakfast which starts at 6-30. Still by 7-00 we are on our way and this time after passing a woman in a hat which is all brim near the entrance, see no one until we reach the Treasury. We press on past the theatre to the start of the ascent to the monastery. We are too early for the vendors whose stalls are empty and unattended. The way is spectacular. Steps and ledges twisting and turning between rock formations. Occasionally a steep ravine to avoid always a spectacular view. There are far fewer tombs in this area but it rates as one of the best walks ever. Occasionally we take a wrong turn misled by a flight of steps to nowhere. I spot what appears to be a massive urn with a crown on top. It turns out to be a back view of the top of the Monastery but it is still ten minutes away. There is a short descent to a plain dominated by the most complete façade at Petra The monastery El Dem which was a temple not a tomb. Moses sister ,Miriam is buried somewhere near here. Aaron is brother has a tomb on and even higher mountain we will not have time to visit. Directly opposite the Monastery is an irresistible café. The guide book urges you to gather your strength if you are well insured to climb the steep stairs to the Monastery roof. Meg votes no and vetoes me. I guess she does not fancy descending alone if I slip. We mill around for half an hour, disappoint the café owner by not buying necklaces, bracelets or boxes and start to retrace our steps. Halfway down we pass the woman in the funny hat. Near the bottom, we pause to inspect the Lion Tomb. From the foot of the ascent there is an alternative route to the entrance but it looks unattractive instead we elect to take the half hour detour past the Royal Tombs These are the major carved tombs but the least carved is the most spectacular. The silk tomb or rainbow tomb has the most spectacular colours, stripes and swirls yet. Some children offer us a dead snake and try to sell us postcards. When that fails, they "give" us small fragments of ceramic and striped stones. We give them cash then take in the Urn tomb another Lion tomb and the Corinthian tomb. The temperature is climbing so we pop into the theatre for a reprise of Donna Nobis and set off for the cool of the pool. This time there are no Germans coming in. At the top, Jehad confirms that the score today has been 250 compared with 750 yesterday. Normally at this time of the year Petra would be receiving 3000 visitors The Jordanians who have been at peace with everyone for ages. Part of the problem is that many travellers take tours which combine Israel and Jordan . We confirm the arrangement with his brother tomorrow.

Mihda and Family

Jehad drives us to the outskirts of town because Mihda, his brother does not want anyone to see him. He is skiving off work for the day. As a senior member of the Petra Regional Planning Department he is being paid £150 per month Our £50 minus petrol, though it is probably company petrol, for a day is a "nice earner" The drive takes us along the edge of a plateau with views of the Petra mountains and beyond Israel is blurred in a smog.
Bedouin tents are scattered in what seems to us to be a waterless waste. .After ninety minutes on the highway mostly accompanied by lorries on their way to Eilat we turn off the main highway Mahdi takes the 4WD off road explaining that this is a secret way into Wadi Rum. The official route would have required us to pay an entrance fee and transfer into the Bedouin tourist open top vehicles. All the better for seeing the view but nightmarishly hot. Mahdi uses a series of faint tracks through wide open spaces. The region is unlike any previous desert we have visited The area is mainly hard flat sand and widely scattered tufts of dry bushes patiently waiting for rain. Some camels are feeding off one such bush. No wonder they look so miserable. Widely spaced out huge towers of rock soar out of the sand, not quite monument valley, as the rock looks hard. Piled up against some of the rock towers are drifts of soft red sand. Some areas of green baked mud suggest water was here not too long ago. We stop at the base of the most massive rock which is a rounded hump, a bit like Ayres Rock in Australia. Mahdi leads us into a narrow fissure. We have to scramble over pools. He shows us some primitive rock paintings, mainly animals like deer. Odd pairs of flat feet. A bird with a pink fluffy face puts in a brief appearance. We are off again skirting more rocks, passing goats and some surprisingly leafy bushes
"Poisonous" says Mahdi. It is very photogenic and Meg is on her fourth film most of her shots will be of coloured rocks. He pauses at a dry stone hut of little beauty "Built by Lawrence of Arabia " he tells us.
Well Lawrence has got the Estate Agents creed "Position, Position, Position right but I reckon he should have stuck to looking inspiring on a camel and left house building to Hat Chep Sut .I cheerfully hand over £50 plus a fiver with instructions that he must buy something for his wife who has been telling us about. He invites us to come home with him for mint tea after our evening visit to little Petra
.
The short journey to little Petra takes us through the village specially constructed for the Bedouin that until recently lived in the main Petra gorge. The tourist board wanted them out of their caves. At first the villagers slept in tents in the garden and used the modern bungalows with all mod cons and satellite TV to house their goats Little Petra would be quite interesting anywhere else but being inferior to Petra gorge in all aspects, here it falls a little flat. If you want to be impressed, visit it before you see Petra.
We go to Mahdi's house set in a steep slope with magnificent views over Petra's mountains to the west. Over which the setting sun is poised dramatically . We are greeted by his mother who is pottering around in the garden and his wife Muna in the doorway. Though young she is a hefty wench dressed in a non flattering gold outfit. Her greeting is warm and friendly. The carved arched doorway leads straight into a large rectangular room covered in a deep red carpet two long sides and one short side are lined with cushions in the form of a seat and back. There are separate armrest cushions here and there. some of the back cushions block off doorways. Central in the remaining short wall in an ornate black and gold stand is the one piece of western furniture a TV this is immediately switched on and tuned to the BBC. There are two pictures on the walls. King Hussein and King Abdulla. Mint tea is served to Meg , no to me first then Meg them Mahdi by Muna but she does not join us.
Muna's brother arrives with his son, young daughter and maybe his wife and two older daughters but we are not introduced to the three older women and at no time am I able to catch their eyes. Muna's children are brought in. Thermet is one day older than Lucy comes slightly under protest. Shermet is 10 months and very spotty. She is presented to Meg to feed. I speculate as to the cause of the spots I try to engage the boys in conversation. I have a little success with the 8 year old. The girls continue to avoid eye contact and do not expect to be in on the act.. Muna's brother is capable of very intelligent conversation in good English. Mahdi flits about constantly on his mobile phone He has changed into a shell suit. . Jehad turns up and asks us about our day. Mahdi changes the invitation from tea into to dinner, a special Jordanian meal. I have read somewhere that you should never accept without first refusing three times but that is too clever for me and I say yes immediately. Meg is invited to take part in the preparation and is whisked away into a part of the house out of bounds to me. Once Muna has established that I will not follow she takes off her external clothes and she and Meg become very girly. . The guests depart and I am left on my own with the BBC. The others briefly join me to visit the balcony to watch the sunset. Muna has been obliged to cover herself again. Mahdi has changed into a different shell suit. We drink water kept cool in an earthenware jar while the sun turns post office red just above the horizon. Meg persuades Muna that we would like to eat the meal the way they normally do. They are now very pally and have agreed to write to each other. I am shown the wedding photos. All are of Muna, some with other members of the family. The wedding lasts 5 days, the gold she is wearing cost Mahdi over £1000, nearly 7 months wages. The dress was quite conventionally western. She looked young and pretty. It was taken only three years ago. Dinner is served on a steel tray about a meter in diameter. It is heaped with enough chicken, rice and potato feed about 30. We are given a bowl of yogurt and a spoon. We learn later that inspite of Meg's request they would not normally have used a spoon .We sit on the carpet round the tray. It is impolite to expose the soles of your feet, but painful not to. Our hosts look very comfortable with their legs folded neatly under them. We spoon our private yogurt onto the communal plate and churn in the rice and chicken then spoon the mixture into our mouths we have been given towels to cover our legs but they do not use one . they do not spill a grain of rice I look like Lucy on one of her bad days. The meal is made Jordanian by the spices of which Meg has acquired several packets from her mate. They seem disappointed by the amount we eat but do not press the point. More than half the food is left. Tea is served to finish the meal. Muna shows us some of the teaching materials she uses for her 6-7year olds They seem quite advanced to us. Mahdi is quite disappointed that our journey to Amman has already been arranged and paid for He is pleased we did not buy any souvenirs at the tourist office. He considers the prices a rip off. We were only looking for tee shirts with camels we explain for our grandchildren.. He is back on the mobile, he has a cousin that sells tee shirts. Jehad returns with a bottle of Beaune with "Gulf Airlines" on it he offers it to us . I explain that it is worth £5 in England but £75 in Jordan. He should sell it here for 5 months salary be he insists on giving it to us. Mahdi interrupts us from his mobile he wants to know what sizes of camels we need. He changes his outfit again.
Muna joins us on the trip back to the hotel, we are to call in on the cousin. The cousin and his family are seated on a carpet in their back yard. We are invited to join them for orange juice and cake. We buy lots of camel tee shirts at £2.5. and bid our good-byes.

The King's Highway

We have had no contact with Cresta over the last four days but our driver Naseer is waiting in the lobby at 7-00. He is slightly oily and drives circumspectly. . The road features many detours due to improvement schemes. Our first stop is at Karak. A local guide has been laid on to show us the Crusaders castle. Well preserved and well positioned. As usual the emphasis is more on the water supply than the cannon power. The castle is extensive and our guide takes frequent rests as we leap about the fortifications. .Lunch is a massive buffet. We appear to be the only diners. The owners obviously still do not accept that the tourists are not coming. Naseer is concerned at our limited consumption
"It is all free" he explains. On the next leg of the journey he expresses his views on marriage.
When he first married at 25 he refused a 25 year old bride wanting one of 18. When she reached 30 she was spoiled but a man is still a man at 37 so he took another 18 year old. His religion allows him to do this twice more because at 60 a man is still a man. Meg is sitting behind him has not said a word. I don't expect him to reach 60 by some considerably distance. When I glance back I realise that she is asleep. Lucky Naseer. I tell him I cannot imagine preferring an 18 year old to Meg he goes quiet. Our cultures are irreconcilable. We cross Wadi Mabi which is a Jordanian grand canyon 1km deep and 4km across. They are starting to dam it. Currently they depend on treaties with Israel and Syria for water though they have found a huge lake under Wadi Rum. We are surprised to learn that the country also has oil but has agreed with Saudi Arabia not to extract it. They buy most of their oil from Saadam Hussein and are on good terms with Iraq The town of Makba has a Greek orthodox church with a mosaic which is a Mediterranean equivalent of the Mappa Mundi. It also has a tourist shop which Naseer wants to visit but we do not buy anything so bang goes his commission I would have bought either a Sodom and Gomorra tee shirt or a Jordanian flag but they had neither.. The best stop of al is at Mount Nebo. This is where God first showed Moses the Promised Land. Flowing with milk and honey. Today in the murk it looks less promising. A stone commemorating his unmarked grave is in a nearby clump of olives. We can also see the dead Sea from here but there is no time for a visit. The area north and west of the sea appears to be cultivated. There is a modern church and more mosaics but the best thing about the place is the peace. We have one more commercial break at the Hebron glass shop. They don't have S&G tee shirts either or even ones with Salome They can't get past camels. They discuss the lack of tourists on their business philosophically. There is no pressure to buy.
The traffic builds up as we near Amman. We decline Naseer's offer to take us to Jeresh tomorrow
"Because there is nothing to see in Amman".
Our 5 star superior rooms in the Radisson are slightly inferior to the Moevenpic. It is quite a nice feeling to be disparaging about 5 star superior rooms. This is quite the worst place we have stayed in this trip. We dine in the roof top restaurant. A wedding arrives and they let off fireworks in the car park which alarmingly explode at rooftop height. I leave half my gaspaccio. The waiter remarks that the chef will be annoyed. I get better marks for total demolition of the rack of lamb that follows.. Down in the lobby we cannot hear the excellent pianist for the exuberance of the wedding guests. We do not know whether this is day 1 or 5 of the festivity. We retire.
Rumour has it that everywhere including the citadel will be closed as it is Friday. Rumour is wrong! We hire a local guide called Basil who shows us the tolerant religious cocktail that sits on top of the citadel. It is a hill like the Acropolis right in the middle of the city. On it Greeks, Romans, Christians and Moslems have built their places of worship without destroying the other empire's church. Somehow that seems very Jordanian. Restoration of the area is underway and is being carried out by the Japanese and Spanish. A useful short cut we would not have found without Basil brings us to Roman theatre, more Donna Nobis we see the oldest Mosque in the city. Basil is ready to spend all day clocking up £ but we are ready to go it alone thank him and say cheerio. We actually buy some souvenirs and a flag before taxiing back to the hotel.
Our final lazy morning is spent by the pool. Before the Cresta airport transfer turns up out of nowhere at the appointed hour.
On the flight home I am seated two rows behind a two year old Jordanian girl who spends a lot of time hanging over the back of her seat. At no time do I manage to make eye contact with her.

The holiday has been a total contrast to Morocco. We are very impressed by Cresta and will return to Petra to finish the walking. Perhaps we will find Sodom and Gomorra? We must visit the Dead sea and Jeresh.

 

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