Amman, the citadel, and not much else

December 9th

We ate out in the Blue Fig Café last night. It was very sophisticated and a stark contrast to Syria. Not that Syria doesn’t have amazing restaurants, but this one was… sexy, and smooth - even the music was. It was uber cool and funky. Something we haven’t experienced for some time.

We awoke this morning to find Merryl had succumbed to a cold and was not in an adventurous mood. I was up quite early, trying to sort out a replacement camera. I met Marcus in the hotel foyer and we decided to go exploring around the citadel. It was well within walking distance. It basically lies above the downtown area of Amman, on Jebel Al-Qala’a, and is accessible by a short, uphill walk; uphill being the key word here. In keeping with my tenet of never passing a food joint with Arabic written on it, I got a falafel. We struck up through backstreets, across planks, and up broken-down stairwells before reaching the apex of the hill, where the citadel lay. We paid our entrance fee - although this really wasn’t necessary as you could walk down five hundred metres and hop over a wall - and in we went.

… We are walking through the ruins of the old citadel. There is a low cloudbase and Amman looks claustrophobic. Marcus and I are doing our usual exploration routine. We are entering every nook and cranny we can see. We do this unconsciously with military precision. We have a unspoken repatoire of gestures, eyebrow movememts, lipcurls, and gesticualations: each one is an indication of the area we have just explored. I have just back-tracked through a series of foundations outside of the Ottoman Mosque dominating the citadel. To its left is a vast underground cistern. I can't bring myself to explore another one. We enter the palace mosque and flank either side, taking pictures as we go. We emerge into daylight squinting in surprise at a sudden shaft of sunlight breaking through the clouds. We come across a fantastic view of the city. A couple, that I immediately take to be French, are also exploring the same area. We congregate at the South wall and exchange cameras to snap the moment. I can't get over the fact the woman is wearing leather jeans; I have been in Syria too long. They turn out to be Lebanese...

Amman is both a very old and very new city. Records pertaining to its existence go back as far as 3500BC. The Bible makes many reference to Rabbath Ammon around 1200BC as the capital of the powerful Ammorites. It fell under the sway of Rome in 30BC and was part of the Decapolis; the decumvirate of cities in Romanae Arabia. Later, much later under Byzantine rule, its name was changed to Phila Delphia. (yes, the Americans stole that too). During the Sassanian (Persian) rule, and later under the Muslims, its importance was diminished somewhat, so, although it did become a thriving carvan trading post, it never regained its importance as a city. In fact in 1900 it claimed to have a population of 2000 citizens. When, in 1920, Transjordan came into existence however, it found itself rapidly shaping up. Today it has stepped up a little to a population of over 2 million denizens. There must be a lot of frisky bunnies here.

... I am winding my way down into the Temple of Hercules. The sun has broken throught the clouds. It falls across downtown Amman like a lover's caress: bringing beauty to its lugubrious skyline. As I make my way down into the perimeter of the temple's foundations I notice a number of children walking down toward me. All dressed in silken blue clothes. Walking with them is a camera man and an older woman. She looks like a school-teacher. They are lining up along the ruins. I take a seat next to a European looking woman on a stone rock and watch the strange proceedings unfurl. I don't know her yet, however we will meet again in Damascus at Christmas three weeks from now: on Christmas eve. Then on Christmas day she, along with many others, will accompany me to Christmas mass in a village where Aramaic is still spoken and where snow falls on the surrounding hills...

The citadel boasts a number of ruins including a Byzantine basilica, the Roman temple of Hercules and a magnificant palace that has been reconstructed over the last 20 years. This reconstruction and renovation has also included the addition of a roof, in a style that is believed to be consistant with the orginal. It is an interesting place to explore, and we spent a couple of hours mooching around. From the palace you can also see the Jordanian flag flying in the distance. It is supposed to be the second largest flag-pole in the world. Surpassed only by the efforts of the North Koreans. It was quite impressive. Because of its size, the flag looked like it was moving in slow motion. It is a somewhat surreal sight.

We finished up by wandering into the Temple of Hercules. It is mainly lying in ruins. But there were some impressive pillars still standing. Just as we were looking around, we chanced on a bunch of school-kids making a pop video. We took some pictures and applauded their efforts. They took it very seriously and I imagine that they all have dreams of being on the Jordanian Top of The Tops. The best of luck to them.

The rest of the day was spent looking around Jebel Amman. The downtown area in which we were staying. I procured Merryl a fresh orange juice and she then got up; as she was feeling a little better. That evening we discovered the rain had followed us from Damascus so we didn't do very much. We grabbed a shawarma type take-away and stayed in the hotel.