Jaws Aqaba seemed like a strange place. A city in the still rather conservative Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, it is only a few kilometres from the border of the repressive Saudi state, yet here were Westerners walking around in short-skirts and baring shoulders. This was quite a different side of the Jordan I had witnessed a month previously; the breed of tourist they get here evidently don’t respect the local culture. Skin? I felt like I hadn’t seen it for months. A couple of days were spent reading, drinking tea, and trying to relax a little after the intense weeks in the West Bank, although “letting go” wasn’t so easy… Swimming out from a secluded spot on the Red Sea coast, I was past the shallows of the coral reef in the stunningly clear, calm, turquoise waters, when a boat pulled up beside me. The Jordanian captain ordered me aboard his glass-bottomed vessel. “It is very dangerous here, there are sharks” he warned me. I asked his two German tourists if they had seen any sharks yet; they replied in the negative. Personally, I wasn’t convinced that sharks swum this far up in these relatively shallow, calm waters, but the issue didn’t seem open to debate. He was adamant I was to board. The next day, I was on a ferry crossing these same waters, bound for Egypt. And still didn’t see any sharks…
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Jaws

Aqaba seemed like a strange place. A city in the still rather conservative Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, it is only a few kilometres from the border of the repressive Saudi state, yet here were Westerners walking around in short-skirts and baring shoulders. This was quite a different side of the Jordan I had witnessed a month previously; the breed of tourist they get here evidently don’t respect the local culture. Skin? I felt like I hadn’t seen it for months.

A couple of days were spent reading, drinking tea, and trying to relax a little after the intense weeks in the West Bank, although “letting go” wasn’t so easy…

Swimming out from a secluded spot on the Red Sea coast, I was past the shallows of the coral reef in the stunningly clear, calm, turquoise waters, when a boat pulled up beside me. The Jordanian captain ordered me aboard his glass-bottomed vessel. “It is very dangerous here, there are sharks” he warned me. I asked his two German tourists if they had seen any sharks yet; they replied in the negative. Personally, I wasn’t convinced that sharks swum this far up in these relatively shallow, calm waters, but the issue didn’t seem open to debate. He was adamant I was to board.

The next day, I was on a ferry crossing these same waters, bound for Egypt. And still didn’t see any sharks…

Riddles & Recorders The approach to Petra’s “Monastery” is a long, winding route of stone steps, made even more arduous by the constant hounding from folk lining the route proposing donkeys and trinkets and that most dubious of all offers, free shay. But arriving at the top, the sound of a flute came emanating from the huge, carved out hall within. As we got closer, this sound was mixed with the smell of hash. Inside were a couple of guys, stoned out of their mind. The next half an hour was spent sat with them as they smoked, posed riddles and repeated the same tune — over & over — on the flute, to us and the two Israelis who rolled up. My mind had already been tuned-into Middle Eastern logic by a taxi driver’s riddles between Kahta & Mt. Nemrut in Turkey, so I earned myself some brownie points solving a couple. All I need now is the kohl.

Riddles & Recorders

The approach to Petra’s “Monastery” is a long, winding route of stone steps, made even more arduous by the constant hounding from folk lining the route proposing donkeys and trinkets and that most dubious of all offers, free shay. But arriving at the top, the sound of a flute came emanating from the huge, carved out hall within. As we got closer, this sound was mixed with the smell of hash. Inside were a couple of guys, stoned out of their mind.

The next half an hour was spent sat with them as they smoked, posed riddles and repeated the same tune — over & over — on the flute, to us and the two Israelis who rolled up. My mind had already been tuned-into Middle Eastern logic by a taxi driver’s riddles between Kahta & Mt. Nemrut in Turkey, so I earned myself some brownie points solving a couple.

All I need now is the kohl.

La grotte est à nous This is Arwhen. He is born of bedouin stock, and his family have been living in the caves of Petra for generations. Indeed, he was born in one of them. Thirty years ago, as more and more visitors came, the government constructed a village a few kilometres away, a place where all the bedouins could move to rather than inhabiting the caves. Except that these people didn’t want to live in houses in a town. They like the troglodytic life. So despite having a house in town, Arwhen spends most of his time living out here. “It’s more peaceful” he says. In the town, there are too many people, too much noise. The traffic. Here there is nature, the stars at night. A warming fire. For the time being, this habitation of the caves is tolerated by the government, although tourists are not permitted to stay and camp in the area, and technically, they are not allowed to stay with these people. But Arwhen will continue to seek refuge here from the hubbub of the town, once we, the tourists, have left the place for the night.

La grotte est à nous

This is Arwhen. He is born of bedouin stock, and his family have been living in the caves of Petra for generations. Indeed, he was born in one of them. Thirty years ago, as more and more visitors came, the government constructed a village a few kilometres away, a place where all the bedouins could move to rather than inhabiting the caves. Except that these people didn’t want to live in houses in a town. They like the troglodytic life.

So despite having a house in town, Arwhen spends most of his time living out here. “It’s more peaceful” he says. In the town, there are too many people, too much noise. The traffic. Here there is nature, the stars at night. A warming fire.

For the time being, this habitation of the caves is tolerated by the government, although tourists are not permitted to stay and camp in the area, and technically, they are not allowed to stay with these people. But Arwhen will continue to seek refuge here from the hubbub of the town, once we, the tourists, have left the place for the night.

Autoportrait — Petra Whilst the tombs, façades and carvings of Petra are magnificent, the landscape is absolutely mind-blowing, too, and well worthy of some hiking. …and hand-stands on cliff edges, of course. Here begins a small series of auto-portraits.

Autoportrait — Petra

Whilst the tombs, façades and carvings of Petra are magnificent, the landscape is absolutely mind-blowing, too, and well worthy of some hiking.

…and hand-stands on cliff edges, of course.

Here begins a small series of auto-portraits.

Scarred by Tourism After having got used to taking offers of tea at face-value and happily stepping into peoples’ homes, the town of Wadi Musa came as a bit of a culture shock. The whole of the town seems to be geared-up to do one thing, and that is to provide rooms, food and souvenirs to the hundreds of thousands of tourists who visit Jordan’s premier attraction: Petra. The hotels are keen to remind you that Petra’s famous Treasury featured in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, playing the film every evening. But emerging from the siq, it is indeed an awesome spectacle, and indeed worthy of its fame. Petra is an immense site, and whilst the Treasury is perhaps the largest and most ornate of the sights, the sheer number of these façades and tombs, as well as the huge effort that must have been employed to carve them out of the rock, is what I found the most amazing. It is, however, an attraction you will pay dearly to visit. A single-day pass costs 31 JD (1 JD is roughly the same as one Euro), and this summer the price will be rising to 58 JD. Some of the guys working there (who, incidentally, invited us into their office and did offer tea without any ulterior motives), told of how the price next year will be upwards of 90 JD for a single-day pass. This is going to put it beyond the budget of most backpackers… And if you really want to discover the charm of Petra, a day is not enough. I found two days a little short. The site itself is therefore a huge money-spinner for the country, and the people working inside will do their best to extract more money from visitors. Lining all of the main sights are a mass of faux-bedouins, plying their wares. The steps to the Monastery are lined with carts selling souvenirs, and everywhere you walk, persistent offers of a donkey/horse/camel to ride will follow.

Scarred by Tourism

After having got used to taking offers of tea at face-value and happily stepping into peoples’ homes, the town of Wadi Musa came as a bit of a culture shock. The whole of the town seems to be geared-up to do one thing, and that is to provide rooms, food and souvenirs to the hundreds of thousands of tourists who visit Jordan’s premier attraction: Petra.

Postcard? The hotels are keen to remind you that Petra’s famous Treasury featured in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, playing the film every evening. But emerging from the siq, it is indeed an awesome spectacle, and indeed worthy of its fame.

Petra is an immense site, and whilst the Treasury is perhaps the largest and most ornate of the sights, the sheer number of these façades and tombs, as well as the huge effort that must have been employed to carve them out of the rock, is what I found the most amazing.

It is, however, an attraction you will pay dearly to visit. A single-day pass costs 31 JD (1 JD is roughly the same as one Euro), and this summer the price will be rising to 58 JD. Some of the guys working there (who, incidentally, invited us into their office and did offer tea without any ulterior motives), told of how the price next year will be upwards of 90 JD for a single-day pass. This is going to put it beyond the budget of most backpackers… And if you really want to discover the charm of Petra, a day is not enough. I found two days a little short.

The site itself is therefore a huge money-spinner for the country, and the people working inside will do their best to extract more money from visitors. Lining all of the main sights are a mass of faux-bedouins, plying their wares. The steps to the Monastery are lined with carts selling souvenirs, and everywhere you walk, persistent offers of a donkey/horse/camel to ride will follow.