More Grand Day Out

After about another 2 hours of steady cruising to the wailing tunes we climbed a mountain and pulled in at the top. We had done some hairy manouvers but the roads were exceptionally good without too much traffic so I was pretty cool. We stopped in a layby over looking the mountains and the fresh breeze made it a most excellent place. There were a few souvenir stands and I was wary of hawker tactics but they were happy to chat and very pleasant with it. Neve entertained us all by taking the non biodegradable foam coffee cups and attempting to throw them into the void. As they left his hands the wind caught them and propelled them back into him, the thick coffee grains staining his shirt and trousers quite nicely.

Back on the road again and Neve obviously knew a few short cuts and we whizzed through small villages scattering a mix of old folk, school kids or goats at every turn- I slid down into my seat so as not to be associated with him. Soon we arrived at the large car park outside Petra and hatched a vague plan which involved me returning after about 4 hours while he slept- well I think that was the plan. I knew I was tired but with 3 girlfriends to keep happy (not to mention the 9 kids) I guess he needed sleep more than me. At the entrance to Petra it was soon apparent that it was a quiet day- very quiet, like there were only 3 punters there- including me. Going through the usual Arab burocracy I paid the entrance fee and signed up for a guided tour partly because I hadn't done my homework on the place and frankly knew very little about it and also because I knew I would not be part of a huge group. The guide was friendly in a professional sort of way. English was his third language after Arabic and Italian but his delivery was fast and hence required a good deal of concentration- God knows how many times he'd delivered the same lines before. I waved away the kids and old men trying to sell me a horse ride to the entrance of the city which the guide commended me on because it was only a few hundred metres. The plan was that we would walk for 2 hours into the valley then he would leave me to walk out so I focused on what he was telling me, asked sensible questions and looked for good photo points which I would take on the way out. This seriously impressed him because it seems most people ignore him and see the whole thing through a camera screen without bothering to absorb some of the finer points he was trying to make. I won't go into the history of it now but suffice to say that the valley, an ancient motorway services had been influenced by every great civilisation in history Egyptian, Roman, Byzantine well loads! He asked questions of me which was novel (luckily I got most of them) and I picked up all sorts of interesting stuff like Romans built amphitheaters while everyone else dug them- amazing.























click on this one-the dog is good
So after the alloted 4 hours I duly made my way back to the car park and met Neve. "Get any sleep Neve?" He shook his head, held up his phone and said "hi larve you, hi larve you" which I took to mean he had been on the phone for 4 hours keeping his hareem happy- don't expect sympathy from me.

We jumped into the taxi, pushed our favourite (only) cassette into the stereo and headed off as usual at breakneck speed. I was somewhat tired, a little dehydrated and very much in need of a doze but concentrated for the first half hour because the back roads he took through the hills were so scenic. Eventually we hit the main road and Neve floored it, I could see the speedo rising and he was looking at me for some sort of reaction. Unfortunately the only one he got was my eyes closing and head nodding- I have been driven by some crazy people in my time and Neve had an open road. The more I slipped in and out of consciousness the more his pride in being a psycho driver was challenged and we got faster and faster the clock eventually hitting 200kph. I figured there were three ways this could end- we could crash and at this speed and surely die, I could tell him to slow down- couldn't be bothered or he could get bored and slow down- unlikely. But maybe there was fourth way...................




After a minutes talking to the officer he came back tothe car to get his docs and looked very worried- I was actually quite impressed. He had spotted the speck check from quite a way off and managed to scrub a fair amount of speed without it being too obvious- of course he was never going to get from 200 kph to 60kph. He chatted with the Police for another 20 minutes and came back smiling, he had phoned his Mum, his Mum had phoned one of the officer's Mums, the officer's Mum had phoned the officer and Neve walked free- I think I would rather have paid the fine!
We took off again stopping sometime later for the junction to Wadi Rum, a huge depression in the desert once roamed by Lawrence of Arabia and home to impressive rock formations.

He said "hou wan go Wadi Rum?" I said "how much?" He began writing figures in the dust on the dashboard- JD25 for him, JD10 to get into the area which is like a national park and JD30 for a one hour tour in his mate's 4X4. Stilted negotiations began and figures were crossed off and rewritten in the dust. I spoke to his boss and his mate and we settled on JD10 for the taxi, nothing to get in as we would sneak through a back road and JD20 for a two hour tour in the 4X4.
We drove to a nearby village and the back yard of Aslam, a dignified man with decent English and a brilliant white 'dish dash'. Aboard his aged Nissan we headed across the desert. By now I was flaking with hunger and had taken sufficient supplies for us all to share bread, tomatoes and fruit- this went down very well with my new best mates. We stopped at a rock bridge which Aslam suggested I climb so he could take a photo from below- while I was up there Neve shouted "Chris- bye" and made for the car laughing, my how we chortled.
We cruised around looking at one intersting feature after another- rocks shaped like pompous people, caves where Lawrence hid, water holes hundreds of feet deep and ancient scratches on stones which give details of how to get to Damascus or Mecca, how many camels you'll need, where to stop for lunch etc. A bit later Neve nipped off behind some rocks for a leak, when he was about 100 metres away I shouted "Neve- bye" and made for the car, he came running back giggling like a girl. After the tour was over we went back to Aslam's back yard- we waited outside while he got his wife out of sight and sat down for tea-I have develpoed a liking for black tea which has served me well in Borneo where milk is heavily sweetened- my Dad has always had it that way and I never understood why until now. We were joined by Aslam's kids and I got the distinct impression that this was not part of the normal tour, he was a gracious man and a good ambassador for the Arab World (Neve was just a character!)

We spent an agreeable few hours there before making tracks back to the border. At the border the over friendly police and customs guys asked about my day and suggested I return to see more of the country. They asked how much I paid for the taxi to Petra and when I hold them they said "good price". At the Israeli side the stupid girl in a uniform stamped my passport, this undid all the effort I had gone to to avoid getting it satmped in Tel Aviv and all the problems such a stamp can cause when travelling to a Muslim country.

After the short drive back to the hostel I was done in. A quick shower and out to my favourite noodle bar in Eilat, I knocked back 3 litres of lager, one of water and an ice coffee without it touching the sides. And off to my bed alone.