Jordanian Japes - 28th Dec 2001
Extending the Permit
Archeological OD
The night had not been as uncomfortable as might have been expected for 3 quid and Pat woke up refreshed enough to go and face the powers that be at the Jordanian Customs office to get a 'free' extension on our temporary import permit.
After a bit of buggering about in Amman to find the place (the address is King Hussein Street. But king Hussein street is about 5 km long and no one knows where the building is), I was relieved to meet a charming English speaking gent on the third floor of the customs building. He asked me pertinent questions and applied the answers to the relevant form. Then I was pointed in the direction of the first office. My form was endorsed and I was sent on to the next office. This happened two more times and then I was given a bill for 10 Dinars which I had to pay at the cashiers. "But I was assured that this would be free!" "I'm afraid not sir!"
To cut a long story short, I had been right royally shafted and have ended up paying 12+12+5+10 Dinars for something that should have cost 12 or maybe 24 if they were being awkward. When I said that I wanted to make a complaint there were shrugs and so I gave up and went home. On the way out of the building, I passed the nice guy on the corridor who politely told me that he was a private individual and I owed him for his services. I pointed out to him that his help was unsolicited and so I refused to pay him. I left to the sound of "Bastard, Bastard" which I could still hear echoing down the stairwell as I stepped through the front door two floors below. I think he was miffed. Tough shit.
Meanwhile, Hippy had been fretting in the hotel room:
Desperately trying to finish the BWFC scarf to bring the Wanderers some luck on the 29th, I was intermittently clock watching. The time went by and the longer it was the more I worried that things were not going well. About 2 hours had passed when Pat returned, he flung the door open and started ranting obscenities about the officials - shaking with rage. There were lots of questions I had and made some attempts to ask them put clearly now was not the time to question him.
I had already packed up and we headed off to the desert to take in a few castles o the way to the oasis of Azraq. I have to say that maybe we are becoming a little jaded by the sights of the world, but frankly the castle offerings did not seem spectacular and the desert scenery was no match for Syria. Still it got us out of the bureaucracy of the big city.
We were disappointed not to be able to effect a discount on the room rate. The choice of hotels was limited and I guess the manager knew that we had the option of a complete dive or outrageously priced rooms and so he could charge what he liked in the middle ground. The room was pretty sound though despite the fact that the lack of sun meant the lack of solar heat in the tap water.
We tuned in to the World service to check out the inter festivity football games and Hippy made her best endeavours to finish the 'lucky' scarf. Regrettably, before completion, the Trotters had conceded an own goal and had two players sent off by a referee who sounds as competent as a certain Mr Barry Knight of Orpington, Kent (ref. Ipswich play off match). At least, on completion of the said scarf the lads achieved a welcome recovery so maybe it will be lucky after all. Roll on Liverpool.
We dined out in the local butchers shop. He seemed to have a barby going as we passed and he assured us that he provide us with a suitable repast. We dined on freshly minced, mixed and shaped kofte kebabs in the company of the cadaver of an unspecified animal. All we can say for sure is that it was male. Hopefully webmaster Willy will be able to provide charming photo evidence in the near future. The kebabs were very nice, though.
Strangely, the clientele and staff of this gaff were 3 Iraqis, 1 Iranian, 2 Egyptians and no Jordanians. Funny who you meet out in the desert.
We decided that we were getting too archeologically overloaded and should get down to Petra as soon as poss before the bubble burst or we would probably come away from there as unimpressed as form other hugely important sites. There were a couple more 'castles' to see on the way back out of the deserts which were not huge and took only 15 minutes each. One of them contains the Jordanian pornographic library. It is not the rudest picture that I have ever seen, but it is mentioned in all of the guides that you read. My opinion was - Rubens.
And so back to the brown and pleasant lands of non-desert Jordan. The Jordan valley aside, it has to be said that most of this kingdom is pretty sparse in the plant department. It was odd to see huge flocks of sheep in the desert with even less available food than in Syria.
A quick stop in the bewildering town of Madaba where all we could find of its sites was a rather nice church floor which has been unearthed, restored and preserved as it has huge mosaics of wildlife and plants dated from about 600 A.D. There are loads of other mosaics, but after running around town a couple of times, we gave up as we did not want to be too late in the treacherous roads of the Wadi al Mujib.
This is a km deep gorge which the Kings Highway crosses by winding down to the bottom and winding back up the other side. Lonely Planet warns of the poor road condition and so we wasted a top white knuckle ride by pussy footing down the gorge expecting craters out of the road around each corner - none of which appeared. The weather conditions were not best for photos and so you'll just have to take our word for it. Top.
In the bottom of the valley, a dam building project was underway and there was loads of gravel over the road. The wagons were running up to a quarry about 400 metres up the other side of the gorge and the gravel continued up to there. In fact, for no reason whatsoever, the gravel continued all over the road for the next few miles of tight steep hairpin bends. What joy? The gravel was only part of the equation, the rutting and scouring and potholes all adding their dimension. Not the most pleasant ride.
On to Karak and a bit of bartering got us a reasonable room fir the night in a hotel run by Ö an Egyptian, of course. He recommended a place for dinner that was extremely good value and reassured us that everything is much cheaper in Egypt. Good oh!