From Dead Sea to Petra

We are finding Jordanians very friendly…even the lady who thought that John was going to back over her (he wasn’t), smiled and waved at us.

Last night we noticed that it was all men working at the hotel however this morning there were a few more women working but still mostly men.

After a great sleep in a king size bed, John and I wake early. The sun is shining, its 18 degrees and we walk down to the beach to scout out the place for a swim…or float.

I hear packs of dogs barking and howling in the hills. I find most countries are either cat or dog countries. Jordan seems to be more of a cat country, they are everywhere. Just when you think you are alone, you can be certain that one is skulking behind or even inside a nearby potted plant. Yes, the dogs barking in the distance reassure me that it is not just a cat’s world.

Deep Sea Bathing

We reach the beach. A yellow flag is up. I walk up to my ankles in the foamy water. It’s hard walking because all the stones hurt my feet…I need to step carefully. The water is surprisingly warm. I’m tempted to strip down and jump in but notice a head peaking out from what I thought to be an empty towel kiosk.

Despite it only being 8am, we rush back to our room to get our bathing suits. In the few minutes it takes us to return, the clouds roll in, the waves increase and the red flag is raised meaning no swimming or floating allowed.  We are disappointed not to have our float in the Dead Sea.

The towel guy says while we can’t go in to float but we can go in up to our knees and have a mud bath. John declines the mud bath but I partake and then use the beach showers. My skin feels softer but  back in our room I shower again to get rid of more mud which I found hiding in my body’s numerous nooks and crannies.

The breakfast buffet is delicious; it came with traditional foods (falafel, hummus, yogurt dips, olives, chic pea creations), but also salads, veggies, pastries, cereals, all kinds or eggs and lots of meats…and the juices; my favourite is hibiscus juice.

Travelling the Dead Sea Highway

The sun is shining bright when we leave the resort. We begin our drive toward Kerak Castle and then to Petra using the Dead Sea Highway. One side of the road is high rocky cliffs with many little caves and small canyons between them; on the other is the Dead Sea; brilliant aqua by the shore grading to a darker grey blue the deeper it gets.

I’m surprised by the lack of commercial buildings on the shoreline. It is refreshing.

We pass through tiny roadside towns…ugly, dusty square and squat buildings with no attempt to pretty them up. There are however lots of roadside stands with such beautiful fruit and vegetables.

There are also a lot of home made tent villages in the sand and rubble. Some have flocks of goats or sheep.

We’ve mastered the art of surviving the speed bumps in the road…drive a short distance behind another car, if you see them go flying, then slow down till you’re over the bump.

I have a new itchy bump on the inside of my finger…I hope it’s not an infestation of some microscopic, ancient amoeba from this morning’s mud bath.

John startles me out of my contemplations. “KIM! Are we going the right way? Something’s not right. What does the map say?”

“It says pull a uey in 250 metres.” I reply

We wizz past. “It now says pull a uey in 5km”, I advise.

John pulls over to the side of the road. “Let me see that.”

He grabs my phone and looks at the map while making crabby grunting noises. “We’ve gone over 25km past the turnoff. How long has it been telling you to pull a uey?”

I don’t reply cause I don’t really know. I actually can’t remember the last time I looked at the map. GPS woman usually loudly announces when we need to turn so I feel no need to look. “The internet must have pooped out.” I say.

John continues on the vein of “Now this has put as back in timing” amongst other comments.

I point out how understanding I was when he locked the keys in the trunk.

Within 15 minute we are back on our route and our cheery demeanors are fully restored.

Kerak Castle

We make to the bustling town of Kerak and I skillfully navigate John through all it’s jammed and narrow, one way streets. We finally find a place to park near the 1140AD crusader castle called Kerak Castle. This is the largest crusader castle in the Levant. For those of you (like me) who do not know, the Levant is an area in the Middle East that includes Jordan, Palestine, Lebanon and Syria.

The castle truly is quite large with many, many rooms, tunnels and areas that you can wander around on your own. They do have danger signs (but no barriers) where the unattended can walk straight out onto a sheer drop.

We go on to the castle museum which was quite interesting but by the location of the sun I can tell that we better get going if we want to reach Petra before nightfall.

On to Wadi Musa

Since yesterday we have been waved over three times for police checks. The police set up at locations on the road and randomly flag vehicles down. They are quite intimidating looking and then when you lower your window the say friendly stuff like “Welcome to Jordan. Can I see your drivers license” or “Hello. Where are you from?”

We also haven’t seen many speed limit signs. Google says highways 110km, and towns 50km per hour.

After Kerak Castle we start the 2.5 hour drive to Wadi Musa which is the town by Petra. We use the Desert Highway which is the best road we have been on so far and is the equivalent of our 400 series highways except for few road markings like centre or side lines and of course it has speed humps but at least these are well marked. The Dead Sea Highway was much more interesting as the Desert Highway just has lots of sand and scrubby rock. 

There are two flies, moving around the car. I keep trying to swoosh them out of the car.

“Kim! How far to Petra? What does the map say?” I focus.

We find our hotel shortly after dark. We check in and walk down a very steep hill to a Jordanian restaurant called Sajiat Al Janoob. I had no problem finding good vegetarian food and John had a lamb dish. The pomegranate juice is amazing…fresh squeezed. While we eat the song that my friend Louise and I performed to at our long ago belly dancing recital comes on. I try to WhatsApp Louise and Lance but the call doesn’t go through.

I find the return walk to the hotel, up the steep road, is hell. It doesn’t help that John undiplomatically mentions that I’m out of shape.