Maybe I should have changed my way of seeing things when I left Thailand behind. And I should have remembered stuff from my first days in Jordan.
Everywhere you go in this country, when you get a note bigger than 5 $ out to pay the bill, someone asks : don't you have change? I mean, that is not a lot, when you have a 10 $ note, considering ATMs only give 50 $ notes.
Anyway, most drivers were offering to get me to the airport for 15 $. They all gave me their number so I could call them. But I told myself I would flag one on the corner of the street, knowing what a reasonable price is.
My bad! Fell on a driver who couldn't speak (or pretended he couldn't) english. He didn't look like he understood the airport word. Not even the signs I was making to mime a plane (in Amman downtown).
Another driver came to my rescue, translating for both of us and helping me negociate. When the man accepted to drive me for 15 $, I got in the car.
But obviously, he used the language barrier to charge me 20. I ended giving up. I gave him a 50. But he didn't have change, except for a 10 $ note.
He tries to make me understand (at least that's what I believe) that he will get gaz and comme back with the change. But I have no time to wait. I'm already late. 40 $JD for a taxi ride (at least 50 $CA), it's expensive.
Security
In Amman airport, I went through the metal detector before check-in. This time, nobody can blame my look for the problems. They didn't like what they saw on the X-Ray and I headed to the inspection area.
I had to open the bag I closed with difficulties. The only question they asked : "What is that?", pointing to my earplugs. Looks like they had never seen anything like this.
After immigration and a serie of security measures later, I was on a plane to Cairo for a layover. I can technically say I will have been on every continent, except Antarctica.
Showing posts with label Jordan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jordan. Show all posts
Tuesday, 26 June 2012
Monday, 25 June 2012
A night in the desert
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| Wadi Rum |
So here I am. Made my way to Jordan after a flight of about nine hours from Bangkok airport.
To get the visa? Nothing easier. No questions, no signature needed. Only 20 $JD. And a picture or your iris.
The experience started the wrong way since the taxi I was waiting for at the airport didn't show up. The driver I hired then wanted to bring me directly from Amman to Petra. No! I said more than once. And he finally listened.
When I got in the hostel, at around 6:45 in the morning, I signed up for a visit, the same day, at the Dead Sea. Must enjoy it while we can.
A driver brought us to Mount Nebo, where Moise was seen for the last time, before leaving us at the touristic beach of the Dead Sea. They don't call it touristic without a reason. It costs 16 $JD to get in. (Note that the jordanian dinar is a stronger currency than the canadian dollar)
We all know the Dead Sea is full of salt. But it is better not to have any wound when you get in the water. Because it burns. A lot. More than you can imagine. And let's just say that my recent visit at a doctor's office left me with a lot of reasons for my skin to burn. That is why one needs to take a shower after leaving the sea area. Because the sun and the salt, mixed together, equal pain.
Desert
The next day, I left for Petra, where I immediately booked one day and one night in the desert with the campany 7 Pillars. I didn't want to get there alone, but I met a Hungarian girl in the hostel who decided to come with me.
At 6:30 in the morning, we left for the desert. It was a hot day. At least 45 degrees. And don't tell me " at least, in the desert, it's dry". It was a hot day.
I bought a scarf to protect my head and live the jordanian experience to the fullest. I was shown how to put it as a turban.
The experience was mindblowing. The rocks and the sand everywhere around made me so calm, made me think... and sweat, of course.
The most memorable moments were the sunset and that part of the night where I looked at the shooting stars without any light from any city.
I started a conversation with a 32 years old American who fought in Irak. His time in the Middle East was a way to seek forgiveness, to make sure the arab world is not holding a grudge against him personally. Unforgettable.
That is without mentionning the visit of the ancient town of Petra itself, where I could confirm I will never be an acrobat. When we got lost on the high rocks and we needed to find a way down, the abrupt slopes were not too inviting. It's a miracle I didn't break anything.
The tiring way up to the monastery, on top of a hill, was probably the best moment.
From there, I went back to Amman, where my plane will fly me to a surprise destination : Athens.
To be continued...
Sunday, 17 June 2012
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