From the mountains to the desert: 3 days in Wadi Rum

We say our goodbyes to Ahmad’s family and set off through the mountains and stony desert on a 2 hour drive to Wadi Rum. Once again our Jordan pass saves us money at the visitor centre and allows us passage through to Rum village and the end of the road free of charge instead of the usual 5JD per person.  Eid, our next host meets us at the gateway and after collecting Mohammad who is our cook, transports us in his 4×4 the 9km across the sands to the camp and our home for the next 3 nights.

The setting is fantastic with scenery quite unlike anything we’ve witnessed before. Leaving Wadi Musa we soon crossed more barren land before once more joining the Desert Highway, if possible this stretch is even more desolate and barren than the drive from Amman. But as we approach the turning off the Highway towards Wadi Rum, colossal rock formations appear, just like Arabian Nights paintings, or scenes from a pictorial Bible. 

The closer we get, the more spectacular they are, and by the time we have left the road to cross the enormous stretches of sand in Eid’s 4×4, these majestic, magnificent rock formations dominate the landscape. The open stretches of desert between these mountains are vast, and as we arrive, and leave the truck, the wonderful silence descends. Only the desert breeze breaks the silence, carrying the spirits of centuries across the wastes. This is amazing country. We are a long way from home. 

This is real Bedouin culture; at peace with this vast terrain; at one with the surroundings; water a scarce commodity; the little generator providing power for just two hours per day, just after sunset. 

We take a walk through a nearby canyon, dotted with animal tracks, lizard trails and creeping plants with colourful blooms, and a strange seed pod shaped like an oversized ping pong ball. 

As the sun goes down, the colours subtly change, the reds and yellows of the sand taking on a pink hue; the towering rocks a deeper pink shade before darkness, and a still deeper silence falls. As darkness envelopes the camp, we can just make out the silhouette of the rocks like giant eerie shadows silently watching over us.

The communal area, housed in the largest of the huts, is inviting, adorned with the traditional Bedouin red striped cushions and fabric drapes, a roaring open fire in the centre, Eid is playing the lute and softly singing Bedouin songs as we just sit and soak up this incredible experience. Out in the desert, pitch darkness, fire crackling, our Bedouin gently strumming traditional time honoured music. It’s a special moment.

Our private moment is over as the rest of tonight’s camp guests arrive, all of them Spanish. Supper is served Bedouin style, from the drum over a fire all buried beneath the sand, a communal meal in the main hut, beautifully prepared by Mohammad. This underground oven, known as a zarb, is a cooking technique handed down through generations of the Bedouin tribes. 

We disappear beneath our layers of shepherd’s blankets for a well earned sleep.

We’re not quite sure how these things happen to us, but they do. With today being our day for a 4×4 desert safari, Khaled picks us up straight after our tasty breakfast in the communal hut and we are away by 9am. So the basic premise of this is that you are driven to various points of interest, usually spectacular rock formations, given time to explore, return to the vehicle and it’s on to the next one. This is all done in a Toyota pick up kitted out with seating, with or without sun shade. 

Khaled is different. His is a 4×4 saloon, and disappointingly it seems we are to be sat inside when everyone else is in the back of a pick up, until, that is, we complete our first stop. “OK”, he says, “you can ride on roof. It is safe, I drive good”. And he’s serious. He throws a folded blanket on to the car roof, tells to climb up, and hold tight to the roof rack. And so we spend the next 8 hours driving between sights, clinging on for dear life to the metal bars of a roof rack, rolling with the twists and turns, lurching with the bumps.

Now, anyone who knows anything about driving on sand will know that it’s a bit like driving on snow. Khaled is no slouch either, and we must be a sight, two laughing people being thrown around on the roof rack of a speeding jeep, plumes of dust behind them, racing towards the next stop.

The stops are good too, varying between scrambling up rocks to a high vantage point, climbing a mountain in search of a freshwater spring, reaching the top of a sand dune then running down the steep sandy slope, hiking through canyons and meeting Khaled at the far end, climbing on to the top of exposed rock bridges. At each stop, we are let off the leash like excited kids, race off to meet the challenge, and come back to the car to find Khaled drinking tea with another uncle. And then it’s back on to the roof rack. 

The whole day is just plain brilliant. Let alone the roof riding, the challenges bring out the child in us, we scramble up each rock with broad smiles, complete each one with a whoop. On top of all of this, the scenery is breathtaking, the dramatic rocks soaring out of the vast expanses of sand; desert spring flowers in colourful yet dainty bloom; the ochre shades of the sands and rocks shifting hue as the sun moves through the day. Shades of pink, red, orange and gold sands punctuate the granite grey and the occasional white of the mountains, themselves presenting pink and red shades to mirror the sands. And all the while, the azure blue sky provides the perfect backdrop. 

Our return to camp at 5pm coincides with just about every muscle in our bodies aching, but what a brilliant fun day this has been. 

Dinner is again from the zarb, after which Eid and Co again entertain us with Bedouin folk songs around the log fire, the desert wind chilling the air.

Our spines tingle at the very thought of where we are, what we are experiencing, listening to this peaceful music, here in the desert, after a day like today. This is just wonderful. 

We sleep so well that we only wake when a gentle tap on our hut door tells us that breakfast is ready, over which we chat and exchange details with fellow travellers, Australian and Polish. This morning’s adventure is a camel ride; Khaled takes us to the Lawrence Spring where we mount two camels for the ride back to the camp. A young boy of about 10 accompanies on our trek clearly his schooling is in desert life and not the classrooms of the Rum village school. The trek is peaceful, the gentle rocking movement of these sure footed ships of the desert relaxing, there is barely a sound as they effortlessly carry us across the sands and through the canyon to our camp. We hold on tight as the camels lie down to let us dismount, suddenly there is a loud crash and Phil is face down in the dust dumped there as his camel decides to stand up again just as he is getting off.  Khaled runs to the rescue, and makes Phil lie in the communal hut, Mohammad brings herbal tea, it’s a lucky escape, no broken bones, just a bruised shoulder. Might make carrying the backpack tricky!

It’s hotter today, Jordan summer is coming closer, though the nights remain chilly. We take several strolls through different canyons, still marvelling at this incredible scenery. 

Tea is completely obligatory for Bedouins, they drink at very regular intervals at all times of day. It’s taken from small glass cups, and is jokingly nicknamed “Bedouin whiskey” by the locals, supposedly due to the similarity in colour. It’s always sweet, and usually herbal: though it may be mint, sage, cardamom, cinnamon or any combination of these. 

We’ve drunk several million of them. As well as the camel, we’ve also ridden a horse (in Petra), and smoked a shisha twice (Ahmad talked us into it eventually). There’s been no WiFi, little phone signal, so precious little contact with the outside world. And major contact with Bedouin culture. It’s been a liberating and enlightening few days. 

Our time here is nearly done, with our long road trip back to Amman, via the Dead Sea, tomorrow.