The rest of Jordan

Thursday 20th of December - Sunday 23rd December.

We left the desert at sunrise the next morning. We got a lift back to to Rum village. Merryl was in the front. Marcus and I were freezing in the back. From here we got a taxi to Aqabar. We spent two nights here. Aqabar is an ok place. It is a fantastic location for swimming in the Red Sea. It also is the main ferry port between Jordan and Egypt. Unfortunately in the winter there is not much going on. We spent a peaceful couple of days here. The first day we generally did nothing but lay around. In the evening we went out to the Rover's Return - yup we are that sad. From there we went to the Fun Bar for happy hour. This turned out to be about as much fun as removing one's own finger nails. In fact the only people having fun - and pretty much the only people in the bar - were us. The band were diabolical. I suppose that was a novelty in itself. The second day we tried to visit the beach but it turned out to be like sawf-end on a good day. Marcus was becoming ill once again with stomach problems so we ended up heading back to the hotel early that afternoon. We had originally planned to go take a little joint into the Palestine territories but we decided against it, as we couldn't afford to have an Israeli stamp on our passports. [if you have an Israeli stamp on your passport you are immediately refused entry into any of Arab League of Nations countries - Syria, Lebanon, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, Indonesia, and so forth. There are ways around it, but not without risk] So after another quiet night in Aqabar we took a bus back to Amman. We two nights remaining. Then Merryl was to fly home for Christmas and Marcus and I were to head back to Damascus.

... Merryl and I are standing at the place where Jesus was Baptised by John the Baptist: Bethany-Beyond-The-Jordan. It is a warm, winter''s morning. We are in a tour group with a number of other people: Pigrim's of sorts - making their way to this holy place. Three the tour group are a family. One of the children is paraplegic. We are standing at an open air baptismal font. Armed guards stand on either side of it. 20 metres away acroos the reeds on the other bank is Israel. The whole scene is more than a little surreal. Merryl and I take turns snapping each other with the Star of David behind us, fluttering gently in the breeze...

We met Natasha for the last time at the Aqabar bus station. She was flying from Amman that day. We said our good-byes when we got to Ammar and the three of us got a taxi to the now famaliar sight of the Palace Hotel. We checked in and spent the evening chilling out - Marcus was still unwell and on a course of Nophraphlaxin again. Merryl and I arranged to go to Bethany Beyond the Jordan the next day, as a last trip, to see the place where Jesus was Baptised. It was a pleasant enough last day out. Merryl booked herself a last massage in the afternoon. For our last night, I devised a little Christmas game in which each of us had to choose, and research, a character from history and play the part during our last meal that evening. I sent them formal requests explaining the rules. I also booked a table at a popular Arabic restaurant. Things didn't turn out quite how we expected though.

... We are sitting at a table in the Fahkr el Din. We are running slightly behind our planned schedule. Marcus is supposed to be meeting a friend for drinks about 1/2 an hour ago. We spent over 45mins trying to get a cab and get to the place. We then discovered it was the most popular restaurant in Amman. It is rammed. We have had to wait another 30 mins for a table to become free. During which most of the time has been spent helping a five year old kid who repeatedly keeps putting the wrong size money in the bubble-gum machine in the foyer. We are all in character for this evening's game. Merryl has her long hair pinned up in a severe fashion, and is wearing a pair of very prim glasses. She has had very little time to prepare so is using notes. Marcus and I have no props, although I do have a very silly French accent. We are taking turns to ask each other questions. We have, as per usual, ordered way too much food. We haven't figured it out each other's characters and it will take quite a while, but Merryl is Beatrix Potter, Marcus is W B Yeats, and I am the Marquis De Sade. Marcus will guess my identity, as I will his. But it will take us quite a while to figure Merryl's out. Marcus is asking me why I has to leave France so suddenly, as I was exiled to Spain at one point in my life. I am trying to discreetly explain that it involved my man-servant and reported case of sodomy...

We finally finished the meal, much later than we planed, and headed back to Jebel Amman, where Marcus was to meet his friend, Atilla, whom he had met in Egypt a couple of years ago, for a drink. Merryl and I stopped in for a quick hello then headed off. Merryl had to fly early in the morning.

We got up early on Saturday the 22nd and Merryl and I took a taxi to the airport. We got there with no mishap and grabbed breakfast before saying our good-byes.

... Merryl and I are grabbing breakfast in the airport. She has a whopping great latte. I am making do with a small one as caffeine gives my body the same energy as nuclear fission does a country. We are chatting about nothing in particular as we are both trying to put off the fact she has to check in in 10 minutes. It will be three months or so until we see each other again. We are both steeling ourselves as we realize this will never get any easier...

I headed back to Amman and Met Marcus. We went for lunch in Books@Cafe and accidentally had an all day session. So ended our last day in Jordan. I really have enjoyed my time here. I've found it a great country, very open and friendly. I still marvel at how it has managed to reamain on friendly terms with Israel, Syria, Iraq, and still maintained such good relations with the West. It has so many wonderful places to see, not least of which is Petra. I would like to come back here in the summer and do some more hiking. In fact, I think I will.