Day 132: Jordan Israel border crossing

Arriving at the Jordan Israel border crossing early in the afternoon was not a part of our plan at all. We had planned to go to Wadi Rum, a desert made famous by Lawrence of Arabia. I also learned that more recently, Transformers (Revenge of the Fallen) and Prometheus were filmed there as well. So, we woke up and were down in the lobby by six in the morning to catch our bus. It picked us up and then parked in the bus lot and told us that if we wanted to go, instead of paying 7 JD each, we’d have to pay 30 JD total because we were the only ones on the bus.

“Why did you wait to tell us this?” I asked, perplexed that they picked us up, drove us across town (the town isn’t so big) and then parked until randomly breaking the news to us fifteen minutes or so later.

“We told your guesthouse.” I narrowed my eyes. The same dude that told us there would be heat (when there wasn’t) didn’t deliver this bus news to us. I relayed this to the bus driver. He apologized and I assured him it wasn’t his fault. Andrew and I mulled it over, and decided we may as well save Wadi Rum (along with Jerash) for the next time we’re in Jordan. Instead, we crossed the border.

Which, is probably the most expensive crossing we’ve encountered yet. Not only did we have to pay a Jordanian exit fee, but we had to pay a luggage fee on the bus over to the Israeli side! We thought we had it bad, and then we met an Australian who was denied entry into Jordan because at this particular crossing, you needed to already have a ‘multiple entry’ visa. He didn’t. Not only was he “detained” on the Jordanian side, once he got back to the Israeli side, he was accused of looking nervous and his bags were confiscated to be searched. We left him at the second (of three) security checks before Passport Control.

Once at Passport Control, I went first and was asked twenty questions regarding our visit to Israel and why I didn’t want the Israeli stamp in my passport. I played the naive tourist (ok, so maybe I didn’t have to try too hard on the naive part) and walked out ten minutes later with a stamp on a piece of paper and my passport clean. (If I decide to go to Lebanon in the future, having an Israeli stamp in my passport would guarantee problems and most likely getting denied entry. Given that my current passport is only three years old and that I would love to go to Beirut in the future, I didn’t want an Israeli stamp inside.)

We walked around The Old City in Jerusalem for a bit, before I nearly fell asleep in my hummus and Andrew had to drag me back to our very fancy (not. at. all.) hostel outside of Damascus Gate.

Day 130: Amman to Wadi Musa

“Where you want to go?” a taxi driver, or bystander (one can’t be sure) asked before I was fully out of the taxi when we arrived to the slushy bus station in Amman.

“Petra.” I responded, trying to avoid the puddles and heave my bag out at the same time.

“Oh no, No Petra. Only Aqaba.” He said pointing, and drawing a crowd of older Jordanians around to see what the fuss was about.

“But… Aqaba is further south of Petra…” I replied, confused, yet not at all surprised by the possibility we wouldn’t get out of Amman, again. Andrew got out of the taxi, I could see the frustration creeping in. When frustration creeps over Andrew, it’s slight, not at all obvious. I could see it nonetheless.

“No Petra! Aqaba.” The men repeated.

“Ok, ok, thank you!” I said to them, and then turned to Andrew, “Let’s just ask around… we’ll get there.”

And sure enough, on the other side of the station, men were waiting for the shared taxi (picture a mini-bus) to Wadi Musa. We got some tea, met a Wadi Rum guide, got his card, and eventually the shared taxi came. It took around three hours to get to Wadi Musa (the town where Petra still stands) and driving past all of the snow, I could see why the roads were closed. Footprints dotted the snow. One field bore the name “Josef” written clearly in the snow, like one might write in the sand. Cars were pulled over on the side of the road for its occupants to play. One person told us ‘it hasn’t snowed in Jordan in twenty years…’ I wondered how many people were playing in the snow for the first time. I was also struck by the lack of sledding trails. There were none. I wished I had boots and a garbage can lid (or at least a piece of cardboard) to show them that there is more to do with snow than write your name in it!We got into Wadi Musa too late to do much of anything, other than chat with other guests (from New Zealand, France, and Argentina) and eat a really great buffet spread that the guesthouse put together. If there was heat at the guesthouse (and the owner didn’t lie and promise me there would be), it would have been perfect, unfortunately there wasn’t and we had a mountain of blankets to keep us warm instead when we went to bed.

Day 129: Stranded in Amman

It’s official. We’re stranded in Amman. We woke up somewhat early, packed our bags up, had breakfast, and asked about reserving a room when we got back from Petra. “You cannot go to Petra today. The roads are closed!” The front deskman declared.

“What about Jerash?” I asked.

“Also closed.” He declared. And then the other front deskman sliced off some cake for us as they handed the same key back over for us to go back to our room. But not before we re-enacted the conversation because… with everything closed… what else were we going to do for the “Day in a Minute?”

It was a rather uneventful, and cold day. We trekked up one of the hills to find an open cafe on Rainbow Street. Got caught in a snowball fight, and rather than eating at Hashim (one of the very few restaurants open in town, Hashim has the most amazing hummus and falafel- for cheap too!) for the fourth time in a row, we broke down and went across the street for Happy Hour at Wings and Rings. One of the managers lived in Northern Kentucky/Cincinnati for ten years. He knew my hometown, and I knew where abouts he lived near my hometown. Behind the old Kroger’s near NKU. The world is small.

Day 128: Jafra Cafe

We had planned to go to Jerash, an ancient Roman city full of columns, arches, and temples. Jerash is a little more than 40 kilometers north of Amman. We found out that snow and ice had shut the roads down, so we decided to stay in Amman. We needed to catch up on work, and because of how unprepared we realized we are for colder weather in the Mediterranean and Southern Europe in the winter… we started thinking about changing up our entire route of the trip. I know, we’re crazy. But honestly, being able to change it up and adjust infuses a whole lot of excitement into an already amazing adventure. While we spread out our calendars and notes, the Egyptian and Jordanian waitstaff taught us how to make Turkish coffee at the very atmospheric Jafra Cafe.

Day 127: Amman, Jordan

We woke up to worse weather. Of course this region experiences the worst weather in 20 years just as soon as we arrive. We bundled up and headed out, trying to make the best of our time in the capital city. We trekked over to the Roman Theater, and then started to make our way up to the Citadel.

En route, we ran into a Palestinian completely overjoyed to see us. Walking down the street carrying a tank of gas and two ceramic mugs, he immediately put down the gas and walked right up to us excitedly trying to talk to us in Arabic. He forced the two mugs into our hands and continued to talk to us, as if we knew exactly what he was saying. We didn’t, but by this time, a crowd had gathered in what we assumed was where he worked. From the glass front, it looked to be a paper mill or a printing press. The men in the storefront looked as amused – and confused as we were. One of them came out and tried to translate. The only thing we understood was that he was from Palestine and was really excited to see us in Jordan, and that the mugs were for us. He tried to fish out other presents from his pockets (a lighter) but I refused and told him to keep it. He tried to take a picture of me (with my camera) but I told him I preferred a picture of him, instead! Then his colleagues encouraged me to put my arm around him, which made everyone happy.

Not two buildings later, some men waved us into their garage to warm up near a fire that they had going in a metal bin. As I was only wearing my barefoot water shoes and my feet were freezing, I jumped at the opportunity. We made small talk – what we could in – and were given steaming cups of tea. I re-gifted the mugs from the Palestinian (don’t tell!) and one of them jumped up when we went to leave to give us a ride up the rest of the hill to the Citadel.

We walked in the gates right around three, and were able to get into the indoor museum just before we were told it closed. After walking around the citadel for a half hour, we arrived back at the front gate to find we were locked in. The whole city had shut down, and we were on the highest point in the city behind locked gates! Luckily, a taxi driver spied us and pointed to another exit.

I really love how all of the buildings are the same color and just stacked right on top of each other. Because the weather was so dreary, I couldn’t decide if I liked the images in color or black and white, so I decided to do both.

Day 126: Flash floods in Amman

We arrived in Jordan to flash floods in Amman. We were told it has not rained in over a year. While everyone else was rejoicing, we were having trouble adjusting to the temperature after being in the balmy Emirates! Stairways climbing up hillsides between buildings turned into urban waterfalls. Traffic was horrendous. And our hotel lacked heat – that is, until it was cranked on and up around seven in the evening. (Oh, thank heaven!)