In which Layla and Roz play Lawrence of Arabia in the desert, and give Berlin a second chance

By Layla

Wadi Rum is a desert area in Jordan characterised by pink sand, looming cliff faces, Bedouin camps, and Lawrence of Arabia’s house. We got there by taxi, driving through mist so thick that we couldn’t see more than a metre or two in front of us… Which made it all the more delightful when we descended to the desert, and swapped the mist for a beautiful blue sky. When we got to the visitor centre, we were met by a Bedouin guy who was to be our guide for the next day. There are various activities you can arrange at Wadi Rum, and I’d opted for everything they offered. So we set off, comfortably seated on the back of our guide’s truck, and wrapped up vigorously for warmth, into the desert.

It is hard to describe just how brilliant Wadi Rum is. I’ve travelled a lot but I wonder if Wadi Rum might be one of my favourite landscapes. We drove for miles across the sand, through cool rock formations, past people on camels, and hopped out to climb a huge, bright pink sand dune (note: I am not good at climbing sand dunes!), and to climb through an amazing canyon. Eventually, with sunset approaching, we were deposited at our camp for the night.

The traditional way to ‘do’ Wadi Rum is to spend a night camping in the desert with Bedouin people. There are consequently a million different camps you can book. And in a moment of slightly extravagant silliness, we decided to go with the Wadi Rum Nights Luxury Camp. Never having been ‘glamping’, we were astounded by how lovely it all was. The setting looked as though it had been designed by Disney, tucked into a little desert rocky nook. Our tent, looking simple and elegant from the outside, unzipped to reveal a mahogany king-size bed, sofa, dressing table, chandelier, slippers, bathrobes… it was astounding, like that part in the Labyrinth where the heroine steps through a door from the wilds and finds herself in a beautiful bedroom. We walked through the desert for a good spot from which to watch the sun set, then had a really delicious meal in the dining tent. Strolling back to our tent, we marvelled at the truly spectacular stars visible in the desert sky. We finished off the evening on a sofa in our tent, wrapped up in twenty layers (including a giant full length sheepskin coat), and watching the Spirited Away DVD Roz gave me for Christmas. Surreal and delightful. And probably the best sleep of the whole holiday.

The next morning we had a delicious breakfast, and headed out in the truck with our guide to visit Lawrence of Arabia’s house in the desert, and drink tea with some nearby Bedouins who were friends of our driver. From there, it was off to another pink sand dune for our next activity: sandboarding! We were presented with a snowboard, and told to board elegantly down the sand dune. With a total lack of snowboard skills, we decided to use it as a sledge, and passed a very entertaining time hiking up the sand dune and flying down it on the board. Great fun. Another desert drive and soon it was time for our final activity: a camel ride. I managed not to scream when it stood up, and Roz managed not to scream when it sat down, so I guess we are even… at any rate, not sure Lawrence would have approved of our camel-riding skills… but we had a fun time.

We were sad to say goodbye to beautiful Wadi Rum (and our delightful tent), but as with Lawrence, Aqaba beckoned. Though rather than conquering it, our plan was to luxuriate in warm sunshine and a fancy hotel (for which Roz had found a good deal). It was luxurious to finally swap our pink-sand-filled winter clothes for the lightweight summer dresses we’d been pointlessly carrying all holiday! After a quick lunch in a nice bakery, we headed to the Red Sea. After all, Aqaba is a beach resort, so when in Aqaba… actually it was quite odd to look across and see Eilat, Israel’s equivalent Red Sea beach resort, just round the corner. We strolled over the sandy beach and put our feet in the water. Brrrrr! We retreated to the lovely heated swimming pool and the Jacuzzi surrounded by Roman pillars, and finished off the afternoon with drinks on the beach.

That evening we ventured out to Aqaba town centre for food, and found a serviceable option where we ate our fill of the usual mezze. It wasn’t really a long, lingering meal though, and before long we were back at the hotel, arguing with the bar who had sold out of all champagne under £130. He offered us Jordanian wine instead but it was rather unpleasant – and this is how we came to celebrate New Year’s Eve with Perrier, Galaxy Chocolate, yet another anime film (The Girl Who Jumped Through Time), and the twinkling lights of both Jordan and Israel.

A beautiful breakfast buffet was an excellent, if not slimming, start to 2016. Having eaten our fill, we took a shuttle bus to Tala Bay with the hope of going paddleboarding. While paddleboarding would have been a fabulous start to the new year, falling in the freezing water without a change of clothes would have been less good. On seeing the waves were white-capped and vigorous, and the swimming flag on the beach was a decisive red, we opted for a lovely new year’s stroll along the beach, some delicious ice cream, and a few games of ping pong (at which I was sadly trounced) before heading back to the hotel.

Just a four-and-a-half-hour bus journey lay between us and our return to Amman. The bus was fine but it was disconcerting to see how we were leaving behind our lovely Aqaba sunshine for snow! When we finally stepped off the bus, it had turned to hail and we desperately grabbed a taxi and were duly ferried back to Heritage House Hotel. And from there to that delicious Christmas restaurant, where we made even better ordering choices and had an absolutely glorious last night in Jordan. What a fantastic country of contrasts and amazing natural and manmade wonders and completely different weather systems and ancient things and hipster coffeeshops. On discussion, we might even have loved it more than Lebanon.

But it was time to go, so we bid farewell and boarded a late, annoying plane to Berlin. By the time we got there, it was almost evening and we were bitter (both in terms of the airline stealing our day, and the insane cold temperature that Berlin had adopted in our week’s absence!). But then we checked into our delightful, design-tastic hotel, nibbled their free hipster chocolate, and had a hot chocolate in their trendy bar, and felt quite revived! Not least because by a stroke of luck, our Washington friends Tom and John were in Berlin that night and we were meeting for drinks. We decided to walk to the bar, a walk quite attractive but so chilly that we had to periodically duck into a heated shop to avert frostbite! (One might suggest that our dedication to taking a certain number of steps each day is sometimes a little too obsessive…) But when we got there, all was worth it. It was delightful to see Tom and John and drink cocktails and catch up. And then we left the main road, wound down an alley past the rubbish bins, and up a dodgy staircase to Cookies Cream, an amazingly hip, well-reviewed vegetarian restaurant. Fortunately Roz’s reservation finger had been on the pulse and we were quite smug as we surveyed the packed restaurant. The food was, as hoped, amazing, especially a spectacular dessert! Afterwards we started walking home but it was so cold I thought I was going to die, and we took a train instead.

This morning we woke up early and traumatised that after moving country 4 times and hotel 10 times, our amazing holiday was coming to an end… but we still had a day in freezing Berlin and we were determined to enjoy it. After breakfast we strolled (in the freezing cold) along a river and past Parliament, and through pretty Tiergarten park and ended up at the Sony Centre to drink tea and watch The Little Prince at a cool cinema. It was just us and a handful of (disconcertingly well behaved) kids, but it was very enjoyable. Afterwards, in search of lunch, we went to westberlin, a gloriously hipster coffeeshop, full of white furniture and exposed brick and pretentious indie architecture journals. And amazing cake… we stayed for ages with our books, revelling in the ambience and the heat (and the cake). And then headed round the corner to visit one of Berlin’s more obscure museums, the Game Science Centre. Not that we know anything about video games but we do love an interactive exhibit, and this one delivered! There were about 20 video games, all of which used some experimental new bit of technology. There were games we controlled by hovering hands over a sensor. Games we controlled with our eyes. A game where you had to play real ping pong effectively to kill aliens. Dance games with motion sensors. Music mixing things. And a virtual reality headset. We spent ages there and laughed that we had made a much better job of enjoying Berlin this time around. Reluctantly we headed back to the hotel, but squeezed in a quick hot chocolate at another hipster café before it was time to pick up our bags and head to the airport. Where we were duly punished for wailing about the end of our holiday by Easyjet assuring us that it wasn’t over yet: they were providing us with a charming delay in a rubbish airport. Alas. But overlooking this current drawback, what a really brilliant holiday.

In which Roz and Layla prove themselves to be speedy hikers, and walk in an explorer's footsteps at Petra

By Roz

We awoke in Dana to a freezing room and a freezing shower.  Alas.  Over breakfast, the hotel manager tried to dissuade us (not for the first time) from going ahead with our 16km hike.  I couldn’t quite work out whether his lack of enthusiasm for us doing this particular hike was because (a) he thought we looked weedy (b) he wanted us to do a guided hike with his wee friend or (c) it really was a dreadful idea.  I hoped for vehemently that it was (b)…  To be fair, as we set off on the hike, the winds were extraordinary.  So vigorous that Layla and I both had to brace ourselves when gusts came to avoid being blown over.  Maybe this was a dreadful idea, I thought…

Of course, it wasn’t a dreadful idea.  After 2km steeply downhill – in some ways aided and in some ways hindered by the wind – we were in the depths of a canyon.  Huge and majestic, it felt as though we stepped into another world - all the more so since we were alone the whole way other than a few Bedouin and a group of three cheery hikers going in the other direction.  The path twisted and turned and at a few points we were uncertain of the way and set off determinedly one way only to realise that this was definitely the wrong way a few minutes later.  We stopped a couple of times for a break and at one point had tea with three Bedouin young women.  Intriguingly, though very definitely a unit of some sort, they turned out not to be sisters.  Since there was no sign of husbands or children, I hoped to myself we had encountered a tiny lesbian enclave…

Just as we were beginning to flag, we started to encounter more Bedouin tents and saw a large building in the distance.  Layla reminded me that one of the descriptions of the route had mentioned that the canyon / wadi didn’t finish where you expected it to, and so this wasn’t going to be the end.  I indignantly told her that I was more than aware of this.  And so we waved cheerily at the Bedouins and then proceeded to walk past the building.  Until one of us suggested that it might be worth taking a look at the building to find out what it was “just in case”.  Amusingly it turned out to be our destination – an ecolodge where we were to be picked up and taken on to Petra.  We were, unaccountably, an hour early, having apparently walked faster than every other hiker on the route. However, the sofas in the deserted ecolodge looked inviting and the hotel staff gave us drinks and showed us truly amazing pictures of the moon and Jupiter which they’d taken from their telescope.  (I’d have been happy reading my book but looking at craters on the moon was definitely a spectacular alternative.)  Our very nice driver turned up, immensely surprised to see us there (“no-one does it in five hours…”, he said as we looked smug and tried to look as if this was the kind of thing one would expect from the McCampion clan) and shortly afterwards we set off. 

The drive turned out to be more interesting than I expected.  At first, we were more or less driving through desert – very scenic, and intriguing to drive alongside a waterpipe with a few leaks in it which had created a narrow oasis-type strip of greenery and tomato-growing in the otherwise barren landscape.  Then a tarmac road appeared – the first time I’ve seen a road have such a definite end / beginning (depending on your perspective).  We then proceeded to take a short cut, which turned out to be on a road that was still being made.  This was terrifying / fun (again which it was depends on your perspective).  I’m confident that our driver found it terrifying but on the plus side the men who were making the road were very cheery about having to push our car over the rocks that were to become the road to get us over the worst of it as we teetered on the edge of a cliff…  And then, as we approached Petra, there was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.  The sky was pink and the clouds looked magical.  It felt as though aliens were liable to descend from the sky at any moment.

Our hotel turned out to be less than excellent (sigh) in a far away location.  So our best option was to put down our bags, grab a taxi, and head straight into Petra proper for a much-deserved evening drink with our books.  We went to the rather excellent Cave Bar (which is in a 2000 year old cave) and I delighted in reading a slightly sci-fi novel about Antarctic exploration whilst we were on a holiday that felt like it was going over the ground trod by very remarkable explorers in the past.  We left the bar, looking at the entrance to Petra as we passed with glee, and then headed up the hill to a perfectly delicious Jordanian dinner.  And then got a taxi home. 

Next morning we were up early (Layla earlier than she wanted, due to a Mosque being right next to our bedroom) and after a slightly peculiar breakfast (I like orange squash as much as the next person, but not usually for breakfast…) were en route to Petra. When Layla and I were devising this holiday, I’d lobbied we go to Jordan for lots of reasons, but mainly I think because it was a place I remember my mother (who died about a year ago) going when she was my sort of age and loving.  And Petra and Wadi Rum were the places in Jordan she talked about most often – she’d been enchanted by the pink rocks and sand and by the romance of both places.  I was equally enchanted.  Petra is just remarkable: an ancient city carved out of and into rose red rock cliffs.  You enter the city through something called the Siq – huge tall cliffs on both sides of you create a passageway that is a metre or two wide.  It’s both gloomy and mysterious and it is brilliant to imagine the Swiss explorer who “discovered” Petra disguised as a Bedouin to gain access to this mythic place, making his way through the passage, unsure what he’d find on the other side.  You eventually pop out at the Treasury, a massive, delicate façade carved into Petra’s red rock face.  Possibly sacrilegiously I thought it had a lot in common with the US Treasury.  There are huge columns and thinking about the negative space (as my guidebook put it – in other words, thinking about all that was carved away) is astonishing.  To appreciate the whole thing (i.e. rest our legs that were reminding us vigorously that they’d walked 16km the day before) we sat down in a cheery café and had freshly squeezed orange juice. 

There weren’t many people in Petra (which was of course great for us, though somewhat surprising) but nonetheless we decided to go slightly off grid and so began a hike up to “the High Place” – a place of sacrifice (which is not ill named as our legs were keen to emphasise).  From here, we hiked through the ruins, past a terrific carving of a lion (which had once been a fountain) and by caves and small temples.  We took a short rest in one temple and befriended an entirely delightful cat.  Continuing on, we were dismayed when it began to rain.  We took shelter in a mini cave and somewhat incongruously began to read our books.  This proved entirely delightful – there’s nothing so cheery as reading something brilliant in an amazing place – and in some ways we were somewhat disappointed when it stopped raining.  We eventually headed back to Petra “city centre” (i.e. the ancient street which most tourists stick to) and had lunch.  After lunch, we walked back through the main street, delighting in the fact that – like Jerash, where we’d been a few days before – you could imagine ancient people going about their daily lives, popping into the theatre and so forth. 

We were eventually back at the Treasury and beginning to flag (unsurprisingly since it was late afternoon by this time).  So we decided to head back through the Siq and to our hotel for a brief rest and shower.  Fortified, we headed out to the Cave Bar once again before dinner.  Dinner was in fact going to be more exciting than usual, since we’d signed up to do a cooking class (the idea being that you learn to make Jordanian food and then cook it and have it for dinner).  This was super fun, though Layla was quick to point out (just to me) that the lentil soup recipe was pretty much the same as her mother’s…  There was a fun mix of people though I was intrigued to meet several (Western) men who’d never actually cooked before and thus were at a loss as to how to chop a vegetable…  Dinner was delicious and we congratulated ourselves on another excellent day in Jordan. 

Next morning, things looked a little less bright.  The weather forecast was awful – rain all day and the next – and there was a ton of mist making visibility rotten.  We decided to skip the hotel breakfast and went in search of something better.  We were foiled in this aspiration and as the rain poured down, I decided to shake things up a bit by suggesting that we consider leaving Petra at lunchtime and bring all our plans forward by a day and chase the sun.  Layla looked astonished by such a radical plan but in the end we decided to do so.  It took a bit of phaffing to execute this, but by 10.15 we were back at the gates of Petra with a plan to make this second visit our last.  Then, two strokes of luck:  Layla spotted a café with a proper coffee machine and I had my first coffee for days (hooray – I’d just been wondering whether to force myself to start liking Turkish coffee or Nescafe…) and there was a break in the weather.  So we walked through the Siq very happily, marvelled again at the Treasury and then had a proper explore of the main street. We then headed back to our hotel to blow their minds with our early check-out.  Next stop, Wadi Rum!