DATE: April 13, 2008
After four months back in the "real" world, I found myself on a snowy Easter Sunday heading to Heathrow again. This time, I moved entirely out of my London flat and all of my stuff is either donated (again) or comfortably nested in two good friends' storage spaces in London. I will be forever indebted to them. :) While I do plan on returning to London, things are in limbo regarding timing etc... so best to put everything on hold for a bit.
The flight was from London to Amman, where I had eight hours before hopping on a second plane for 45 minutes to Aqaba, on the Red Sea in the south of Jordan. The plan was to do some reconaissance on the airport and see how comfortable it might be for spending the night... if I didn't feel the right vibe, I could find a hotel for a few hours. What ended up happening was much more exciting.
A chatty Iraqi man working for US Aid sat next to me on the plane, and when he discovered my airport sleeping plans he insisted I go with him into town and stay in his hotel. Yes, this is where commonly alarm bells would go off. However, I was getting a safe feeling about the whole thing. After refusing repeatedly, and he insisting he wouldn't touch me and I could just hang out in the lobby if I wanted, I finally relented and decided to give it a go. What the heck? Let the adventure begin! A hotel would certainly be much more comfortable than hard airport seats... So I and my four bags of duty free (gifts for those on BiRT) had an exciting cab journey to the centre of Amman, where the Iraqi joked to all in the hotel that he had a new wife (nervous chuckle), bought me a delicious kebab sandwhich and allowed me to shove some comfy chairs together to make a bed suitable for a five hour nap. He did not make any moves and we both joked about how odd this whole situation was, how cool it was that it all worked out, and how our significant others would surely never understand if we tried to sit them down and explain. Of course, reading it on a blog would be entirely different...
The next morning on the flight to Aqaba, a girl watched in alarm as I stuffed all my ridiculous amounts of duty free into the overhead bin and shuffled into my seat. I noticed she had a Mountain Hardware fleece jacket and an outdoorsy-style backpack. We were the only two women on the plane. I knew that another girl was joining Hot Rock in Aqaba, so I decided to take the leap and ask "Are you Hannah?" Her face flashed about five different expressions in the space of two seconds, from "How the heck did you know that?!" to "Whoareyouthisiscreepingmeout!" to to a ifnal understanding of..."ohhhh, she must be on Hot Rock." It was hilarious. Yes, it turned out it was Hannah, joining Hot Rock, and we embarked on a three day wait for the truck. We were so excited for it to arrive that it was all we could talk about. Every time we heard the loud rumble of a diesel truck on the neighbouring road to the hostel, we'd jump up and look down to see if it was BiRT, even though we knew there was no way it could have been. We helped pass the time by exploring town a bit and I went on a couple of dives in the Red Sea. Overall, it was a long three days, but BiRT finally did arrive at about 1am on the 27th of March, and we were woken by Hot Rockers banging on our door.
BiRT Arrives
Sunset in Aqaba
Diving in Aqaba
From there we travelled to Wadi Rum, a spectacular park in the desert where thousand-metre cliffs tower over a sandy valley. We spent about ten days there, exploring gulleys and canyons and climbing a LOT. After not having climbed for a while, it certainly was a shock to the system (but a good one). My favourite adventure did not exactly involve climbing per se. It was on our second day, when former Hot Rocker Matt led us through a very well hidden route in a canyon. He knew the way, thank goodness, from having previously hired a guide... and I had no idea what I was getting myself into. We scrambled over some very exposed terrain, swam through a chilly bog, and finished with breathtaking abseils. It was definitely an Indiana Jones type of day, and a great introduction to the area. If you ever find yourself in Wadi Rum and you are OK with heights, find a guide to take you through Kazali Canyon. It is hands-down the best day hike I have ever done. Overall, Wadi Rum was absolutely fantastic - I'll let the pictures do most of the talking.
Hiking in Wadi Rum
Photo courtesy of Duane
Red Dunes
Photo courtesy of Duane
On a Climb
Photo courtesy of Duane
Photo courtesy of Duane
Photo courtesy of Duane
My classic pose
Photo courtesy of Duane
Some exposed technical scrambling
Photo courtesy of Duane
More exposed technical scrambling
Photo courtesy of Duane
More exposed technical scrambling
Photo courtesy of Duane
Have I mentioned the exposed technical scrambling?
Photo courtesy of Duane
Beautiful Abseil
Photo courtesy of Duane
Another Beautiful Abseil
Photo courtesy of Duane
Next on the agenda was Petra, the famous lost city as seen in "The Last Crusade." We were not used to seeing so many tourists, and the vast number of clean and khaki-clad people wandering around was a bit of a shock. However, it is incredibly easy to get off the beaten track in the park. Most people stick to managed walkways, but there is nothing to stop one from going down footpaths that lead to hidden and secluded areas. We managed to get to a high vantage point looking down on the Treasury, not to mention other areas that didn't even seem preserved in the least. We easily pretended to be the original European explorers "discovering" the ruins in 1812. Many Hot Rockers grew bored of the ruins after the first day, but Duane and I were on a photographic mission, snapping literally hundreds of shots in only a fraction of the park, and having an absolute blast.
The Treasury
Bouldering above the Treasury
Really cool sandstone
The Monastery in Petra
From Petra we travelled north and had a quick dip in the Dead Sea. By quick, I mean about 10 minutes. That's all we could handle for all the yobs floating around in the water. Our group has several women in it now, two of which are, dare I say, quite attractive blondes. Needless to say this caused a stir as we walked toward the lake, even though we were all fully clothed in the water. There were no, I repeat, NO other women among the hundreds of people floating around in this public beach area. Most of the people were teenage boys who were not used to seeing any female flesh outside of the face. They decided to surround us and play "touch her bum" as they floated by. It wasn't until I finally lost my temper and grabbed one by the leg, pulled him toward me and girly-slapped him upside the head a few times while hurling curses at him (to the great amusement of his friends and his utter embarassment) that they finally stopped. What I should have done is dunked him under water. I wasn't thinking clearly enough at the time, and one always thinks of these brilliant insults well after the fact, but if you get any of the highly dense mineral water in your mouth (it is 30% saltier than ocean water), you feel like retching for a good hour. All in all, it was not a fun experience and I was quite disappointed. I had been quite looking forward to it, having been in the Dead Sea on the Israeli side ten years earlier with a very fond memory. What a let-down.
Surrounded by yobs in the water
Next up was Amman, Jordan's capital, where we had two days to get into mischief. Somehow, we got it into our heads that it would be a GREAT idea to run the last 10km of the Dead Sea marathon (which just so happened to coincide perfectly with our schedule) dressed up as climbers. The lads took this a step further and included dresses in their costumes... don't ask. Thus, we found ourselves crawling out of bed on just an hour of sleep and just a wee bit hung over, donning fancy dress and going on a quest to find the marathon in a city where not many people speak English. It took us about three cab rides and two hitches to get to where we wanted to be, but we finally prevailed. Of course, we grossly missed the beginning of the official 10k due to our wanderings, but we decided just to hop out and run the last 10k without registering and see what would happen. Would anyone notice or care that we did not have numbers? It all worked out, and we jogged along in the thick heat of midday with our gear clanging and tied together alpine-style, sweat pouring and panting, we finished in "good" time and enjoyed the lively party at the end of the line.
The four Speed-Racers at the finish, from L-R: Me, Duane, George, Aiden
The event terminated on a fancy private Dead Sea beach resort, which was a COMPLETELY different experience to our public beach experience the previous day. Music blasted over two tiered pools, beer was on tap, free coffee and sports drinks flowed, and best of all - the Dead Sea itself was an easy stroll downhill where runners could soak their tired feet. With no youths swimming by begging to be attacked, I was able to enjoy it for as long as I wanted, trying out various floating positions in the super bouyant water. A good time was had by all, and we met some great people who joined us for another night out in Amman.
Dead Sea Beach Resort, ahhhh :)
Overall, I'd have to say Jordanians are quite friendly, especially the Bedouin in Wadi Rum. Our taxi driver there brought us free drinks and snacks when he arrived at our bush camp to pick us up, and as if that wasn't enough he then invited all 15 of us to his house for dinner! We were also given a ride by a Bedouin with his camel in the back of his pickup truck (yes, things have changed) ;) during a walk back from a distant climb in the desert. It was amazing how friendly and genuinely open people are. My only complaint is regarding the men in the Dead Sea and general treatment of women. Of course, it wasn't so bad for me as I had the advantage of a.) not being blonde - in fact I was told I even looked arab, and b.) walking with a bloke for most of the time. We all enjoyed our time in Jordan. :-)