Jordan 2019

The adventure begins

This is unusual for us, normally our adventures start in the dark early hours and a pre-dawn drive to an early flight, so it’s odd to find ourselves kicking our heels at home waiting for the time to leave. But this journey is a 4pm flight, so it’s a train to London and tube across to Heathrow, a bite and a couple of beers in Terminal 5, and we’re away.

We’re flying with BA this time, which is also unusual. The flight is fine, the only items worthy of comment being the quality of the food (good!), and the amusing fact that dinner and air turbulence arrive at precisely the same time, giving rise to some amusement as the tray takes on a mind of its own.

Amman Airport is calm as we walk through and, having had the forethought to obtain our Jordan Pass on line weeks ago, we are through quickly. It’s almost 1am now though, and our plan to start this adventure is tonight in the airport hotel, then pick up the hire car tomorrow to start the first road trip. 

And so the adventure begins.

From Amman to Wadi Musa: seeking the real Jordan.

So the plan starts well, a fairly leisurely breakfast and a quick shuttle back to the airport terminal to collect the hire car, obviously nothing can go wrong. Except that a slightly surreal misunderstanding means that our bodies and our car are some 90 minutes apart, with our car, bizarrely, waiting for us at a military airport instead of the main one. We only know this because a guy from the same hire company spots the paperwork in our hands, and asks who we are! But the guy, and his company, Omaish Rental, are just so helpful and so eager to please that they find a replacement car and get us on our way still ahead of schedule.

And so we are away, out of Amman and on to the evocatively named Desert Highway. It lives up to its name and is exactly what you would picture, nearly 200 kilometres of dead straight road through flat barren land. An occasional small town passes by, as do colossal petrol stations, but the only other interruptions are random speed humps which appear without warning, and a handful of police stops. The desert stretches as far as you can see, in every direction. 

Only some distance after we leave the Desert Highway does the terrain start to change, first scrub, then genuine greenery, followed by the first of the foothills as we approach the mountains which will be our home for the next few days. Dropping back down from the highest point, our first sight of Wadi Musa is fantastic, the small Bedouin Arab town nestled right down in the valley below, then scaling steeply up the opposite side. We pull over just to stare, it’s a terrific view.

From 15 at the top, the temperature has risen to 22 by the time we leave the car and take a sunshine stroll around this delightful town, so pleasing on the eye and with a sense of identity drawn from its proximity to Petra. We take a light mezze snack in the sun at Restaurant Al-Wadi before we contact Ahmad, our next host.

We go in search of our home for the next 3 nights, a traditional Bedouin house next door to our host Ahmad and his family, in a tiny hamlet nestled in the mountains surrounding Petra, Its location better than we expected, the perfect rural retreat to live amongst the local people for a while.  Just a handful of houses in this remote setting, silent apart from the crow of a nearby cockerel and the giggles from a group of children as they waved and eyed us up with interest.

Our house is very rustic, solid bench chairs surround the lounge covered with a red carpet like fabric to match that which drapes from the ceiling.  The tiled floor is covered in rugs, an animal pelt at the entrance, the huge ornately carved wooden bed, this is one quirky little house. 

Ahmad invites us to join the family for tea, we sit in his garden surrounded by fruit trees and birdsong, glasses of mint tea are served, members of his family join us, the tin pot of mint tea seemingly endless as were the introductions of Ahmad’s family as they came by to say hello and join us for a while. The young ladies of the family intrigued by Michaela, snapping away on their phones and no doubt photos of this blonde lady from England instantly sent to their friends.

We talk with Ahmad about Jordan, village life, his love of the outdoors and of his Arab horses, and listen and learn about Bedouin history and tradition. Ahmad’s mother is preparing the evening meal indoors as we adjourn till summoned for the evening. 

Right on cue at sundown, one of the family arrives to take us next door for our evening meal. We’re taken upstairs to a rectangular room full of bedouin style furniture but with a huge bowl of food placed on a rug on the floor, and are invited to sit on the floor with Ahmad and dive in. The dish is makluba, one of the most traditional Bedouin meals, originally cooked in a pot on a wood fire buried in sand. It’s utterly delicious, but there is an awful lot of it and we are expected to do it justice. The food is delightful though, and all the better for knowing that every single ingredient was grown, or reared, in this tiny village.

Ahmad’s entire family live in this village, and there is an awful lot of them. It works the other way round too: the entire village is Ahmad’s family.  So after dinner we sit in the same room as different relatives come and go; we sit surrounded by Arabic chatter, Ahmad often our interpreter, occasionally another offers some English, especially Ahmad’s father Mahmoud, clearly the family kingpin. There is an endless supply of mint tea, they drink gallons of it and it’s clearly an integral part of the social scene. The shishas are passed around, all of the males take a turn. We decline tonight, but it’s a fair bet we’re going to have to take part before we leave this country!

As the evening evolves, so we are made to feel more and more welcome. This wonderful family epitomise the famed Jordanian hospitality; but more than that, the love and togetherness they share is huge, and we feel both humbled and privileged to be sat here in their home. We learn much of the family’s history, from its beginnings as cave dwellers to creation of their village which, incredibly, has only happened in the current generation. Ahmad himself was born and raised in a cave. 

We try to remember each person’s name, but there are just too many. As one group leave, their 2-year old daughter kisses each of us goodnight…. and, in Arabic, says “goodnight aunt, goodnight uncle”. We are so touched.

Only one full day into this Jordan adventure, yet so much has happened. A day we will never forget. 

Petra: A Day Of Wonder

The intrigue of Petra starts way before you visit, the story of its creation and existence matched by the romance of its re-discovery from its true status as a Lost City. Built by the Nabataean people around 2,600 years ago, this city of 30,000 people, built into and from the surrounding mountains and outcrops, must have been one of the World’s most thriving metropoles of those ancient times. 

A city full of major sites built into the rock faces, colossal facades and tomb structures; so-called “high places”, places of worship and sacrifice way above the ground; entire streets of frontages hewn into the vertical rock; ornate carvings on impossibly grand scales adorning the face of what turn to be cave interiors. 

Just as romantic is the story of its discoverer, Johann Ludwig Burckhardt, who came across the place in 1812, having heard talk amongst Bedouins of an ancient city hidden from the world. Indeed, the Bedouins had purposefully kept their secret so effectively that Burckhardt knew as he rode through that he was the first Westerner ever to lay eyes on this sacred city. His story is a remarkable one which we won’t repeat here, but it is mind blowing just to imagine what discovery of a lost, and secret, city, would feel like, let alone a city built with such unique splendour.

Unlike so many other major sites, you can’t see Petra from afar, you don’t pass it by road, it doesn’t sit high on a hill . Despite it now being quite such a major tourist attraction, it is still pleasingly hidden, tucked between mountains and reached only either by walking through The Siq (just as the Nabateans would have done), or by climbing over the mountains.

Our route today is to trek around and over the mountains, passing many sights before clambering along a high ridge, where suddenly and completely unexpectedly the magnificent facade of The Treasury is below us across the rift. It’s an awesome view.

Ahmad’s hiking route is terrific, altogether a 6-hour wonderful hike across difficult terrain and over lofty peaks, ticking all of our hiking boxes even without the once in a lifetime experience of seeing Petra. We visit hidden temples, ancient cave dwellings, those sacred high places, before descending into Petra proper, past the amphitheatre built by the Nabateans and enhanced by the Romans, past a host of other wonders, before arriving at the foot of The Treasury, soaking up that amazing view. A view now known to the world despite being hidden, or lost, for centuries. Incredible.

Unlike most others, we leave via The Siq rather than arrive that way, but as we do so, it is so easy to embrace the awe of that approach way to this hidden sacred city: an approach as full of anticipation for the hordes of visitors today as it was for those ancient people. 

Yes, tourism and commercialisation have arrived here, but it is very easy to walk past that and just be absorbed by the magic of this truly incredible place, one of The New Seven Wonders Of The World. 

Ahmad is going to cook for us tonight but not in the conventional way, he will cook over an open fire at his cave.  We drive in convoy, through Petra and out into the hills, the incredible view across Wadi Musa ever present. The drive takes us on bumpy dirt tracks to the foot of a rugged outcrop, we clamber up the rocks and make ourselves comfortable on a ledge outside the cave, the late afternoon sun still warm, the silence and the remoteness so relaxing, the view fantastic.

Swallows and birds of prey flying overhead, in the distance donkeys grazing, set free after their hard days work and the bubbling sound of the shisha accompanies us while we chat.

Ahmad lights the fire and prepares the meal, he calls it a barbecue but it’s nothing like we know in England.  A large pot of rice in water with vegetables, herbs and chicken livers is placed directly onto the burning wood, the chicken and onions coated in yoghurt and spices on a rack above it and an oil drum placed over the top to make an oven. Wood is then piled around and on top of the drum to increase the heat, the result is beautiful flavours and crispy coated chicken, delicious. 

Ahmad still sleeps in his cave most nights even though he has his house next to ours in the village.  He was born in this cave and his whole family lived here tending their goats and sheep and leading a very simple life, it is still his special place amongst this wonderful landscape and the stars. It is becoming very clear that Ahmad is no ordinary being; his penchant for this cave, and his feeling that the cave is his spiritual home, are just two of his traits. 

We drive home in the falling darkness as the sunset fuzzes behind the sandstorm now blowing through the valley, leaving Ahmad and his ever present shisha to another night in a cave. 

We, meanwhile, hole up in our Bedouin home, its sloping floors amusing us again, our senses alive with knowing how far this experience is from our life back home. 

Petra, and a birthday like no other

There are more fascinating facts about Petra than we could ever discuss here, but here’s some to prepare would-be visitors. First, it is vast. The more you wander around its reaches, the more ancient sites you uncover; there are so many more than the ones we all picture. Just about everyone knows The Treasury and The Monastery, yet even those two are a hike and a significant climb apart. The truth is, the ancient hidden city covers a total of an incredible 38 square miles, and houses nearly 850 registered ancient sites; add to this the startling fact that archaeologists believe that only 20% of Petra has been uncovered, if so then there are many more secrets concealed by this amazing place.

It is, though, now a major tourist attraction with large numbers each day, and some of the hallmarks are present. One wonders about Burckhardt and his amazing discovery; if he could see the Indiana Jones gift shops, pizza parlours and plush hotels near its entrance, or the numerous hawkers and cafes even within its boundaries, he may well have decided to protect the Bedouins’ secret rather than share with the world! 

But, don’t be put off, Petra remains a miraculous spectacle which is without doubt one of the most incredible places we have visited anywhere in the World, it is truly wonderful, and awe inspiring. The Siq, the main entrance way even in Nabatean times, is in reality a split in the Earth caused by tectonic movement; splits which parted the Earth itself to form natural streets between towering cliffs. The Nabateans moved in and built these incredible constructions into those huge natural facades – and, 2,600 years later, they remain remarkably well preserved. It is a truly fabulous place to visit.

Our hike today is different, in that Ahmad drives us out into the desert, via a detour to see Little Petra, also well worth a visit, and then walks only part way with us. He then gives us directions and we hike alone, around the mountain path, till we once more enter Petra via a side door, sweeping down to The Monastery itself. Another absolutely awesome view.

And so we complete our tour of the major sites, visiting the tombs and palaces we missed yesterday, completing over 20 miles of mountain hiking over the two days. 

Then, into the afternoon….

Today is Phil’s birthday, Ahmad and his family know this and are having a Bedouin celebration for him, the meal is at 4pm, we are collected by his brother and shown to our mat on the floor. In the middle of the plastic sheet on the floor is a huge platter, tonight we are honoured to be served their national and celebratory dish mansaf. A huge amount of rice with chicken or lamb sprinkled with huge amounts of herbs and roasted pine nuts served with lashings of goats yoghurt and very thin bread. Ahmad eats this expertly with his right hand, we opt for the easy way and use a spoon, the food is delicious!  Bedouin coffee to follow, a bit too much like medicine for Michaela but Phil downs 3 cups of this strong thyme and cardamom infused coffee.  

More members of the family arrive and we are ushered into another room and plunged into darkness, apart from blazing candles on a birthday cake. Everyone sings Happy Birthday, they must have been practicing as other than Ahmad they only speak a little English.  The lights are turned back on to reveal a banquet of Arabic sweets which are served with the cake, baklava and a huge selection of other sticky treats. Another round of tea and coffee and it is time to leave, feeling like very honoured guests! 

We head back to Petra this evening to witness “Petra At Night”, a popular event around which we’ve read differing views. It is basically a tourist event, a candlelit gathering in front of The Treasury, where crowds sit amongst the lanterns and under the stars, and musicians play traditional Bedouin music whilst a modest light show illuminates the facade.

Walking through The Siq, itself lined with lanterns, amongst the excited crowd, is a pleasant experience in a cool atmosphere. The show itself is modest and a little contrived, but it is still worth a go, whilst here.

And so our wonderful visit to Petra, and Wadi Musa, is over, as we move on tomorrow. Ahmad and his family have been wonderful hosts and have given us the fabulous authentic Bedouin experience we were really hoping for. 

Sad to leave. Excited about what lies ahead.

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. 

Back to Amman: The Dead Sea Highway

The evenings in the Wadi Rum Bedouin camp have all been so good, sitting by the fire sipping sweet herbal tea, eating food cooked in the zarb and listening to the gentle Bedouin music of our hosts. Our third night last night took a further twist as a party of Russian travellers arrive, guitar in tow, so we are treated to a heady mix of Bedouin and Russian folk songs. 

Travelling as independently as this throws up some remarkable twists; we talked more last night with Karolina, from Poland. It turns out not only that Karolina lives only 60 miles from us in England but, incredibly, spent New Years Eve in the same square as us, in the same city, in Mexico – and now we meet in Jordan! 

And so this morning we are away straight after breakfast, bidding farewell to all our new friends and off on the long drive north. We sweep around Aqaba, a sprawling port city spread around our first ever glimpse of the Red Sea, and turn northwards on to The Dead Sea Highway. 

We turn another corner and the Dead Sea is ahead of us, impossibly aquamarine water made more vivid against the pure white of the cliffs of salt at its edge. Across the water Israel and Lebanon reflected in the stillness of this inland sea, the lowest place on earth.  The salt cliffs give way to gentle salt slopes, the blue sea lapping at their edge depositing yet another layer of salt.

Last night Karolina told us of a place away from the expensive spas and tourist beaches to experience the Dead Sea,  we head straight there and are handed 2 bags of the famed Dead Sea mud and our instructions on how to tackle this highly saline mass of water and were left alone to enjoy the experience; don’t try and swim, don’t put your head under the water, walk in backwards, and just lie on your back.  The pebble beach gives way to small boulders encased in salt crystals, we gently edge our way in and just sit backwards and we are in, lying on top of the salty water, unable to sink, such a strange feeling. Now we are wet it’s time to use the mud, we smear the thick sticky black mud all over each other, giggling like children and wait for it to dry then it’s back into the water. We float around effortlessly, lying back and relaxing and enjoy this surreal moment.  Salt and mud washed from our bodies we feel rejuvenated, skin soft and cleansed we are ready to continue our journey.

It’s 32 degrees as we hit the road for the last leg, stopping for another bowl of mansaf as we hit the Amman suburbs, drop off the car and hit our hotel. This is a significant moment, the end of the desert section and into the city, we have had a week of terrific experiences.

The idea is that after seven days of rustic desert it’s time to treat ourselves, so we arrive at our hotel with pretty much everything tinted with the red dust of the desert, backpacks scuffed and dirty, bodies smelling of mud pack, Michaela’s hair matted with salt. We have long hot showers, we empty the backpacks, we put clothes in a wardrobe, we dress for an evening, Michaela puts on makeup. It’s a week since any of those things happened. 

It’s a week since any alcohol too. Out there in the desert, you don’t even think about beer; here in the city, it may be different. 

Amman, City Of Hills and City of Change

By the time we’ve settled in to the Toledo Hotel there’s limited evening time left so we head straight for the renowned Al-Rainbow Street, one of Amman’s livelier quarters. It’s both fun, and a lesson, people watching during the evening here, so we take a seat by an open window in a shisha bar and watch the world go by. Dress codes are changing; it’s easy to see the differences in generations as the young dress in a distinctly western influenced style, whilst their parents, mothers in particular, are more traditional. Evolution is in evidence before your eyes as attitudes change.

Despite its ancient origins, Amman really grew as a city during the 20th century to the sizeable sprawl which it is today. Its historic sites are dotted around the centre, penned in by the hillsides dominated by concrete hulks, though the Citadel still stands above it all on the highest hill. 

With Jordan, and Amman, having retained their status as the safe haven in this troubled region, the city is now home to emigrees from more war torn countries: there are over half a million Syrian refugees now living in Amman. 

Amman itself is ridiculously hilly. Built originally on seven hills, like Rome, it has now sprawled to cover over twenty. And boy are these proper hills, most of the streets are ridiculously steep and you are rarely on the level. Buildings stack up the hillside one above the other; even our hotel has reception on street level, but seven floors of bedrooms  beneath it, as the building clings to the steep slope. Streets which look adjacent on the map turn out to be separated by a huge flight of steps; neighbouring properties are on completely different levels. 

Today we head to the Citadel, perched high on the highest hill looking across the sprawling city, the views from this walled ancient site fantastic, we can see how expansive the city is from here and have a birds eye view of the amphitheatre and odeon in the valley below. The Citadel itself is interesting, comprising of a number of historic buildings which clearly would have been spectacular in their time.  We walk amongst these ruins, the Umayyad Palace, the Byzantine Basilica and a handful of columns remaining of the Temple of Hercules still standing proud against the skyline looking over the city below. As with many countries outside of the UK, we are able clamber on these ancient buildings, stand where ancient civilisations stood, touch the carvings on the pillars, we can feel the history and be absorbed in the atmosphere much more stimulating than just looking at them from afar.

The Citadel site has been occupied since the Bronze Age, through numerous civilisations but most notably, in turn, the Romans, the Byzantines and the Umayyads.

Our walk of the city continues down the hillsides through narrow streets   and up and down untold numbers of steep steps until we reach downtown Amman and its souks, a myriad of market stalls and shops.  The food market awakens our senses, the sights, the smells, the sounds, the bustle; produce of all sorts, the spices a heady scent, the call to prayer from the nearby Mosque, the noise is intense and exciting. 

Hashem Restaurant is an Amman institution, serving falafel and hummus lunches for over 50 years, so of course we have to do it, and enjoy its lively atmosphere as much as the excellent food. It puts us in mind of Nizam’s in Kolkata: an old established family restaurant still serving its original fayre to a roughly equal mix of locals and visitors, and proudly displaying its heritage throughout the premises. It’s a “must do” whilst in Amman.

As darkness falls we set off for our evening out heading again for Rainbow Street, we climb the steep steps from downtown and as we near the top we look out across the valley towards the sparking lights of the city, the Mosques again begin their call to prayer. We can hear at least four of the many Mosques from where we stand, their tuneful songs mesmerising as they echo around the hills of the city. It is absolutely spine tingling, once again we are absorbed in the atmosphere of this magical and haunting moment.

Amman: Last Day In Jordan

The first person we talked to on arrival ten days ago was the very helpful guy at Omaish Car Rental, and he expressed surprise that we were planning to spend two days in Amman, saying there wasn’t much there and we should be heading out to Jerash instead. We laughed and said we’d find plenty to do.

You know what? He was right. Once you’ve visited the Citadel and the Roman amphitheatre, Amman is a city pretty much going about its own business and does not have a host of other attractions. Apart, that is, from its unusual setting amongst the steep hills, and the soundtracks of its mosques and souqs. We think it’s fair to say that visitors would be ready to move on after a weekend here.

So it’s our last day in Amman and Jordan, we visit the Odeon then climb the huge steps of the Roman amphitheatre where we take the highest seats and stay for a while enjoying the warm sun whilst taking in the views of the city, and enjoy shawarma, the best of Amman street food. We wander aimlessly through the souks, we buy spices to replenish our store cupboard at home, saffron and dried limes, it’s all so cheap here. We buy trinkets to take home and test our bartering skills, we hear that they don’t shift much on their price here, its true! We are usually pretty good as a team but here we could only negotiate small discounts, it’s very different to the bartering satisfaction we encounter in the likes of North Africa and Turkey. That said, we are still happy with the deals we make.

It’s our last evening, we head down town, in daylight there appears to be very few restaurants/cafes, however, once darkness falls over Amman and the lights come on, a walk from Al Husseiny Mosque through to Prince Mohammed Street reveals a number of eateries, never at ground level, always on the higher floors, the entrance hidden in narrow alleyways. We choose Jafra Restaurant, a huge dining room with a covered balcony.  The atmosphere is loud, locals abound, all ages. The air heavy but fragrant with the number of shishas being smoked, a musician playing the lute.  The food is good, service great, the perfect place to enjoy the hospitality of the Jordanian people one last time. 

We need extra time to clear security here, making the start of our journey home an early one before dawn. So it’s farewell to Jordan, to mint teas, falafel and hummus, and in particular it’s goodbye to this stunning country and its welcoming and hospitable people.

Another brilliant trip.