Simon in Jordan

Hey there,

I hope I find you all in the very best of health. I promise I'm trying to cut down on these e-mails, but as so much happens I may be forced simply to make them a little less portentous and trim all the flab.

Jordan is effectively a ridge of plateaus stretching south, with the Dead Sea Rift Valley down one side (I hope I've given an adequate idea of that), and the desert on the other. It's scored by dramatic Wadis (dry river valleys), and as the inhabitants don't want to take up precious agricultural space, their villages trickle down the sides of these Wadis, which makes them very picturesque, although the individual houses are pretty ramshackle given the usual response to
only paying taxes on finished buildings.

The first place I visited was Karak, which sits at the junction of 3 Wadis, and is crowned with a magnificent Crusader castle. The scenery is incredible, with views down to Sodom & Gomorrah, but the place is pretty undersold, even the hotel manager was flabbergasted when I said
I wanted to stay 2 nights. Most people just visit the castle and bugger off. It is a pretty amazing castle, and you really get a feeling for what it must have been like to live there in medieval
times.

The town itself is very Jordanian though, and everyone seems sublimely happy. Some guys were riding around town all day, clapping along to their music. Others were just having a good old sing-off in their car whilst it was parked. Instead of people slowing down to try and get me to use them as a taxi, they just wanted to shout "Welcome!".

Everywhere you go people are desperate for you to have some tea. It's often flavoured with mint or thyme, but always with LOADS of sugar. It's effectively trad Red Bull, and after a day walking around your teeth feel syrupy and your heart is racing. I think it comes from their Bedouin heritage - they are very proud of being Bedouin here, as opposed to Egypt where they're seen as troublemakers and terrorists - think Gypsies with Bombs.

If you go for walks in the countryside then you see their Black Goat Hair tents all over the shop, and you can hear their kids for miles. Often you have conversations such as the following:

"PLEASE COME FOR CUP OF TEEEAAA!"

"La, shukran." (no thanks)

"PLEEEEEAAASE! PLEASE! PLEEEEAAAASSE! PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!"

"La, la, mut shakreen."

"...
...
...
PLEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGHEEEEEAAASE!"

However, I have been very grateful when they've given me lifts on their tractors, and they seem to be expert cooks - the smells which come off their camps are lovely and their dishes make a welcome change from Falafel and Kebab on the countries menus.

After Karak, I went to Dana Nature Reserve, the most dramatic Wadi of them all, with its head in the clouds and its base 400m below sea level. It's full of life, and remarkably free of litter (well, it is now that I carried out loads of it - my old headmaster would be proud). You can walk for miles (mostly straight up or down) without seeing anyone, just hearing the birds cry or a soft breeze blow.

The Wadi walls are all twisted sandstone & limestone, and the sun sets straight down the Wadi - its one of the best I've ever seen. I went on lots of hikes including one to the top of a dried up waterfall with a drop about the height of the Arts Tower - to be honest it makes the
soles of my feet hurt just thinking about it. Does anyone else have this physiological reaction when thinking of huge drops?

I visited another Crusader castle, this one with a secret passage which winds down through the rock almost vertically to emerge next to a spring. Thanks for the head-torch, Tez, though even with this and my mag-lite it was like staring into an abyss as the sheer steps plunged to the maw of darkness below.

Finally I arrived in Petra. What can I say? It's awesome, literally. Plunging down the sinuous Siq and emerging in front of the Treasury is an unforgettable experience. You know the Treasury, it's the one that's in Every Picture Ever of Petra, the one they used in Indiana Jones. It seems to bring about mass hysteria in the tour groups when they reach it, whooping and clapping. I climbed high above it one day and it sounded like children's hour at the local swimming baths.

What is lovely is that as soon as you get off the main track you pretty much have the place to yourself, bar some goats and lizards, and some sneaky Bedouin who pounce upon you with tea. You can do loads of hikes and scrambles up the surrounding mountains, and it really is fantastic. Striding out amongst the Neapolitan swirls of the rocks and coming face to face with a magnificent tomb around almost every corner is incredible.

Atop the High Place of Sacrifice, a little Bedouin woman sits offering tea and playing a wooden recorder. Her spastic playing is possibly some of the most inspired I've ever heard, and you can hear it when the wind carries it to you on other mountain tops. I was going to make a joke here, but unfortunately I can't remember the names of any Free Jazz Female Recorder giants from the past. Soz.

There's also some good Calls to Prayer here. One of the Muezzin sounds so maudlin its like some Eastern Blues Lament. When you here it from inside Petra itself the rise and fall of the voices all melds into one rolling exhalation, once a breeze started up at that exact time and it felt like the breath of God.

Today I went further afield to Little Petra, a suburb, where one of the houses retains its paintings. These are 2,000 year old paintings which retain a Renaissance freshness and style. I then went round the corner to a village which was abandoned about 6,000 BC. It had been in use for the last 4,000 years before that, and marks the transition from Hunter Gatherer to Agricultural society. It feels like having a peak at the dawn of man.

But now it's time to move on I fear, I don't want to get stuck in the way of the great migration of the Hajj, which is coming soon, and devours all hotels and transport in its path. You Don't Fuck With The Hajj.

Keep smiling, remember that I love you all, even (especially?) the bad ones,

Simon