Middle East Part III : Like Jordan

Travels continued southwards from Syria, on dusty roads in a dusty car driven by a dusty driver who nonchalantly stopped to hide at least twenty boxes of duty free cigarettes in every panel of his car prior to crossing the border into Jordan. It's in this third entry that the focus is on one particularly amazing aspect of the Middle East: the people. 

The folk around these parts, particularly in Syria, are remarkably nice. Nice being an understatement; adjectives do them no justice. 

Our tale starts in Madaba, a place where you'll be pushed to the limits of MFS (Mosaic Fatigue Syndrome) within an hour. It's here that I was innocuously about to walk past a trinket shop when a small, haphazardly secured sign hanging at the door caught our gaze. It cryptically and boldly stated "You wouldn't know what you are missing by avoiding this shop." With a grandiose claim such as that, a visit was pretty much mandatory. 

Inside was a man named Joseph (Yosef). Joseph came to epitomise everything lovable about the people of the Middle East. Upon entering his shop, rather than being fed a concocted and robotic sales pitch so common around the world, tea was immediately offered with a comfortable seat. He described his tea as the "best tea in Madaba". It looked much like the tea everyone else brewed; his title was undoubtedly self-proclaimed by himself and probably many others.

Joseph spoke about his great grandfather who had helped build Madaba as a new place for Christians to live after fleeing persecution. He spoke  about his family, which to him and every other Middle Easterner, is everything in life. He asked us about Australia and was grateful to have company from the other side of the world. It was a brilliantly interesting afternoon powered by sugar and cultural sharing. In the end, so much time was wiled away in his shop that the original destination for the day was long forgotten. In fact his company was so good that the next day was also spent visiting him again for more tea and chats about everything and nothing. To me Joseph was exactly what the Middle East was all about; unrequited hospitality. To top it off, I could not actually pay for anything in his shop, on both occasions leaving with merchandise as a gift despite total reluctance. It has never been this hard to pay for something.

Just like the people, Jordan is a beautiful country spoilt for natural wonder. Looking upon the promised land of Bethlehem and Jericho from the top of Mt Nebo in a Moses-esque moment is an unforgettable experience. Driving through the middle of truly epic Wadi Mujib canyon. Clambering over the awe-inspiring Karak Fortress. And then, coming to some of the most astounding, jaw-dropping, camera-battery-draining things one can see: The Dead Sea, Petra and the Wadi Rum desert.

I'll start with the Dead Sea. The severely overweight and underworked lifeguards are testimony to the ridiculous buoyancy of this vanishing body of water. It is freakish beyond compare to walk out into the water and then suddenly start to lift off the ground leaving you to do a kind of vertical doggy paddle with your entire upper chest still sticking out of the water. A word to the wise though, the salt content is higher than a happy meal, so you'll discover wounds you didn't even know you had. It also pays to not ignore the sign that says don't swim on your stomach or dip your head under the water as the experience can be truly blinding. 

Next up, Petra. Nothing can prepare you for this archaeological wet dream. The sensation of walking through a mile long chasm and then being tantalised by glimpses of the ancient structure lying at the end is epic. Sadly you cannot go inside the Petra treasury anymore, but I've seen Indiana Jones so I'm guessing this is due to the fact that "only the penitent man may pass". I can't remember the last time I saw a penitent tourist.

Sadly, for all it's wonderment, Petra is showing the signs of rampant tourism now that is officially a new 7th wonder of the world. The entry fee is quite simply ludicrous ($90 USD) and it's not really clear where or how that money is being put to use. I expect this fee to have risen substantially by the time you read this, and again by the second time you may read this.

It's also nothing short of a travesty that the Crown Plaza has been allowed to set up a restaurant right in the middle of the "protected" area, filling the valleys with the romantic sounds of generators. Worse still they have somehow manipulated the main walking path so that it literally leads everyone straight into the restaurant. They might as well have just chucked in some trapdoors that literally slide you straight into the restaurant seats.

Another peeve, Petra has a Monastery that is as equally amazing as the Treasury. You reach the Monastery via a very long and precarious rocky staircase. It's quite a spectacle the entire way and well worth the hike, however for the elderly and less able it’s potentially insurmountable. But then, one day. an enterprising Bedouin thought to himself "I know, I'll take the less able up on the back of my donkey for a small fee!". 

The people did say yay for now all could share the glory of the Monastery. But, things have gone a bit pear shaped since then. Now there are seemingly two donkeys for every tourist and are certainly no longer restricted to the less capable. The hike up to the top is now a constant battle against a veritable swarm of Donkeys who seem to be trained to defecate every ten steps where the path is at its most narrowest. 

Now add to this scene a bunch of "rock traders" that have set up tents every ten metres. I don’t mean they have set up a trading stall ON the rocks, I mean they are literally trying to offload rocks onto you for money. It’s a hard job and thirsty work, which means as a professional rocker you need a good cup of tea and this means you need a good fire! But hey wait, there's no trees for fuel! Not a problem, just burn garbage!

What you are left with now is having to negotiate a path of god knows how many steps, in the blazing sun, being strafed by donkeys delivering a deluge of donkey effluent whilst only being able to breathe a charming mixture of donkey butt stench marinated in burning plastic.

Petra is a beautiful place, I can only hope they do more to manage it or in 20 years time it will be a wreck.

Moving on, the final experience in Jordan was the greatest; the Wadi Rum desert. I find myself searching for bigger and better superlatives to describe this place; the desert landscape is just so eerie and evocative and all that was known beforehand was that you might not be able to remember your own name and that you should walk without rhythm. 

One cannot come to these parts without being in a group led by a Bedouin guide. They know the desert like the back of their hands. Our group's guide taught us a lot about how they survived here, we taught him how to play rugby. We spent New Years Eve at his Bedouin camp under the stars clapping and dancing to traditional Bedouin music, eating hearty Mensaf, sipping sugar while discussing Lawrence of Arabia followed by a flaming torch led procession to a nearby valley to watch New Years Eve fireworks that echoed through the desert mountains.

Hiking in the desert mountains is the perfect antidote to the craziness of Middle Eastern cities. This is the way to escape it all, although civilisation is never TOO far away, especially when climbing mountains bordering Saudi Arabia; the hills came alive with the sound of mobile phones. Apparently Saudi Arabia has very good mobile coverage. 

Camels rides are par for the course. Strange creatures they are, offering odd stares and random groans and grunts at nothing. The ride quality on a camel is, if anything, a little too animated. Especially if you have a very hungry camel who wants to eat every shrub in the desert and nothing but bones for an arse like I do to absorb the frantic ride. On the bright side though, the Bedouins are all too keen to offer at least 10 camels for any females in the group, like some sort of wife swap. At about $1300 USD a camel that's not a bad trade!

Jordan was a gem of the desert though, for all it's visual marvel, it really was all about the people. The people that house you when you are weary, offer potatoes in times of gastrointestinal discomfort, talk to you about their misunderstood ways over cups of sugar, drive you to weird and desolate sights or just chill with you in cosy transportation momemnts. I think it's sad and a touch ironic that so many tour groups walked straight past Joseph's shop sign in Madaba. I can authoritatively say they didn't know what they missed out on by avoiding this shop.