Asia Archives - Page 4 of 13

Asia Jordan

Return to Amman

I returned from Wadi Rum in the evening and mostly I just went for a walk and smoked shisha before bed. The next day I roughed out a bit of a walking route for myself to see some of the things I hadn’t seen on my first day in Jordan. I walked from my hotel (the Jordan Tower Hotel) to the Jordan Museum, past shops and traffic, cages of scraggy birds for sale, and men having tea.

*my new lodgings* – *designed for ‘chillaxing’*

The museum didn’t seem to be fully open; it was just the first floor, but I was a bit grateful for that. I didn’t really want to feel obligated to spend hours there; I just wanted to get a bit of a taste, which this was. And it was good. Especially the creepy ~6000 year old mannequin type statues and clay pots used to bury children’s bones.

From the museum I was going to walk to this area around the Paris circle. It didn’t look far, but I was, as before, stymied by Amman’s dramatic hills. The route I needed to go involved an endless looking flight of stairs. I would have needed a lot more energy – or a grappling hook – and I wasn’t in the mood, so I took a taxi (cheap and plentiful.)

I decided to go to Paris Circle mostly because there were supposed to be a bunch of excellent cafés and art galleries there. I didn’t see much in the way of art galleries, but I can vouch for the cafes. There are less traditional Jordanian and more European or fancy North American style. Lovely though. And I was thankful for the leafy patio, strong americano and cardamom rose cake I enjoyed at Café Rumi.

From there I walked to the Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts. A pleasant stroll.

The gallery is actually in three buildings around a small park. I had planned to visit all three, but I went to one building (the first I came upon) and visited just that one. It was excellent. It was small and just a few floors and filled with modern art by artists from countries mostly in the middle east – countries that I don’t usually see art from. Yemen, Palestine, Saudi Arabia, Bangladesh, Sudan, etc. It was just excellent.

*Jordan National Gallery of Fine Arts* – building 2

Almost as good, is that on the roof of this gallery building is a lovely café (the Jungle Fever coffee and tea house). I know, I was just at a café, but it was very hot, and I had walked a lot already. The rooftop patio has wonderful views over the city and colorful cushions. It was a nice place. The sort of café filled with young people on laptops. I had two iced teas and chatted with a college girl studying for a biology exam who told me how she wants tattoos. I also dozed off momentarily in the comfortable seats.

I left my new wishfully tattooed friend and walked over to the King Abdullah I Mosque, the huge, blue-domed mosque that is a landmark in Amman. Honestly, it isn’t much on the inside, but it is nice to see up close from the outside and appreciate the tiles and design.

Back to my neighbourhood around the Jordan Tower hotel, I chatted with one of the guys working there – a super pleasant fellow with a fascination with serial killers – and then spontaneously ended up joining a free walking tour of the market area around the hotel.

I had already been to the markets, but it was nice to be able to go with this guide and his two other guests (from Colombia) as I could ask questions and take more photos that I had felt comfortable doing on my own. I also got tips on where the best shisha was in the area, and we got to try the kunafeh (a delicate pastry with white cheese and rose water) from Habibah that every night I saw people queuing up down the street and around the block to get. I had wanted to try it, but was dead set against the queue.

I finished the night with some of that recommended shisha and slept happily. I really like Amman, but after my second, very full day there I was satisfied. I had one day left in Jordan and my sights were set on Jerash.

Asia Jordan

A few hours in Aqaba

I left Wadi Rum in the morning after saying goodbye to the friends made over the past two days, never to be seen again. My taxi driver was awesome – actually, all the taxi drivers I had in Jordan were awesome. They all went out of their way to be hospitable and helpful, from going shopping with me, to sending follow up WhatsApp messages to see how I was doing, to helping me buy bus tickets.

He drove me to Aqaba, where I was going for the sole purpose of catching the bus to Amman. (There is no bus from Wadi Rum.) I could have just taken a taxi back to Aqaba, but that seemed unnecessary, plus, I thought it was a good opportunity to see something of Aqaba.

Aqaba was not otherwise on my itinerary as it is a beach destination and the beach is not my preferred environment. But a layover sounded perfect.

My taxi driver took me to the Jett bus station so I could buy a ticket. I expected he would drop me off, but he came in and made sure there was a bus for me to get on. The next bus was leaving right away, which I didn’t want, but there was another leaving in about 5 hours, which was perfect. The ticket was 10 dinars (~$17 can) for the 4ish hour journey. I bought the ticket and was going to go on my way, but the driver said he would show me a round a bit. So he did a little loop, so I could get the lay of the land, before dropping me off at the beach.

*First view of Aqaba*. *That’s Isreal in the background*

The beach was very busy with locals. It isn’t too much to look at. A narrow strip of sand along the gulf of Aqaba, with Eilat, Israel in the background. The diving there is known to be excellent, but I was happy to just sit and walk ad take in the views.

What I did not enjoy was the weather. It had been 40+ Celsius in Wadi Rum, but here it was hotter AND there was oppressive humidity. I realized very quickly that my idea of exploring for several hours with my backpack in town was not ideal. It’s not a big backpack, but after only 30 minutes or so I was drenched in sweat.

I sat to have breakfast at a sidewalk café (foul, pita, pickles, hot sauces, and a cigarillo) and through about how I was going to endure this layover, when I had a brilliant idea. There were a lot of dingy hotels around; how much could a room be? So I walked into and side street and went to the Amer Hotel. A room for 1 night was about $15 can. Sold.

I checked in, ditched my bag, modified my clothing, and was free to wander in comfort. Even better, before leaving for the bus, I was able to have a shower. Best. Idea. Ever.

And so I walked around Aqaba. Honestly, it’s not that exciting; unless you are going there for the diving, you could skip it. But I was still happy to look around for a few hours, taking in the street art, the beautiful main mosque, the ‘castle’, and streets. I also stopped at cafés and smoked shisha and watched everything pass me by. By the time came for me to go to the bus station, I was happy to do so.

My bus trip was delightful. A very comfortable ride on the top level of a big coach, complete with a woman offering tea and cake. Masks were meant to be worn for covid reasons, and many people did (including me), but not everyone, and one person towards the back kept smoking cigarettes until the tea and cakes lady told him off for it. even still, a relaxing ride. Not much to look at, but pleasant all the same.

When we got to Amman, I made the small mistake of getting off at the second of the two stops, which was not a formal stop, but just a place on a busy street that seemed to me to be far from everything. Fortunately, I was able to flag a taxi to take me to my hotel, just as art got dark. I had two more nights in Amman ahead of me.

Asia Jordan

Wadi Rum

I left Wadi Musa early the morning after my amazing day in Petra, bound for Wadi Rum. I opted to take a taxi for the two hour drive. The same taxi driver that had taken me shoe shopping the day before. We had a good rapport. We left Wadi Musa, passing patches of pomegranate trees, stopped for water, and hit the highway.

The drive wasn’t too remarkable. Lightly colored rocky desert punctuated by the odd town or flock of windmills. (Do we still call them windmills when they are those tall, white modern ones? I still imagine windmills as something out of a fairy tale book or a postcard of historic Netherlands.) Anyway, we arrived in Wadi Rum and I was deposited at the ‘visitors centre’ to await pickup. Nothing was open and there was no wifi, but sure enough, soon a pickup truck approached, and I hopped in the back…and we went about 1 minute away to a house. I had no idea what was happening. It was, as it turned out, the house of one of the brothers who operated the camp at which I was staying.

I was ushered into a room without furniture, and sat on the heavily carpeted floor and leaned against cushions. I was immediately offered sweet mint tea (refusing it was futile) and sat and talked with the host (whose name I have now forgotten) while his two young children played with iPhones – not as phones, but as, cars, I guess; zooming them around on the floor and crashing them into each other, before their father sent them out of the room. We chatted for a while and then three more guys, all in traditional Bedouin garb, joined us: the host’s brother, a guy named Omar, and a guy who said nothing, but sat there being quietly handsome. We drank tea and smoked. I still wasn’t sure why I was there.

After about 45 minutes, I realized that we were waiting for two other people who were to arrive and go to the camp and the three of us would travel there together. The people arrived – a mother/daughter duo – from Germany who had been staying at the same guest house as me in Petra. As well, two Spanish girls who were leaving the camp appeared and we all sat on the floor and ate out from communal plates: hummus, labneh, bread, cucumbers, potatoes, chicken, and tuna, though the vegetarians amongst us abstained from the latter two. It felt so normal to be sitting and sharing a meal in that way, I almost forgot about Covid.

The German mother/daughter duo and I sat in the back of a pickup truck, outfitted with two bench seats and a fabric awning, and set out into the desert.

It was immediately overwhelming in the best possible way. Aside from the odd circle of Bedouin tents, there is nothing there. Just vast expanses of sand in shades of red and ochre and beige, and dramatic rock formations and mountains. It really does look like Mars, or what we imagine Mars to be. And it is huge.

We arrived at the camp: Arabian Nights. It looks pretty much like the others: boxy, black striped Bedouin tents, a main, large tent for meals and hanging out, and a fire pit.

I splurged on one of the deluxe tents, which meant I had my own bathroom. The water same from some metal boxes outside and had to be brought in from the town. No AC. Ironically, I did not sleep a night in my lovely tent. It was so hot that it would have been unbearable. Instead, I slept both nights outside, on a mat under the stars, which I highly recommend. It was still too hot for a blanket, but the breeze was wonderful, and the stars were spectacular.

That first day in Wadi Rum, we (the German mother/daughter duo, and I) just hung out in the main tent, reading, napping, and (me) smoking cigars. There were a lot of guys working at the camp, all local Bedouins, and they were great company as well. At night we all say around the fire talking.

Both nights, dinner was cooked in the traditional Bedouin style of digging a pit in the sand and lowering a tiered, metal … thing … into the pit on top of a fire, after loading the thing up with chicken and vegetables. The pit is then covered with a board, blanket, and a mound of sand and is left to cook. When the oxygen runs out, the fire dies, but the heat remains to cook everything. There was also a big pot of rice and the usual dips and breads. We were well fed.

On the second day, the German mother/daughter duo and I took an all-day trip into the desert. Omar was our driver for the day, and we took the aforementioned truck into the unknown.

The day was a series of drives through the sand to various points of interest and places for hikes. It was all terrific. Even just driving and looking and the awesome scenery was great. But then we would stop at a narrow cave, for example, and venture in to look at ancient carvings and paintings of people, horned beasts, and whatnot.

We climbed up a sand dune and sand boarded or tobogganed down. It was amazing, though hiking up a sand dune is challenging; it feels like you slide back farther with every step forward, but out of breath at the top, it doesn’t seem to matter.

We visited what remained of T. E. Lawrence (of Arabia)’s house where he allegedly slept, a rare spring of water, a large rock resembling a mushroom, and a couple of amazing natural rock bridges.

Whenever possible, Omar parked the truck and told us to hike over a small mountain or through a canyon and he would pick us up on the other side. The scenery was outstanding. Much of it didn’t even seem real, like a scene out of a movie.

All of this was great fun, albeit rather exhausting, made more so by the heat. Thankfully, we stopped in a narrow cave for a couple hours and laid on thin mats on the sane while Omar cooked us a hot lunch over a fire and another man who showed up out of nowhere played songs on the oud.

We also had opportunities at various points to stop at open air tents operating as tea houses – literally in the middle of nowhere – to have a glass of tea, a chat with whoever was there, and, if we were lucky, hear a bit more of the oud being played.

We finished the day by hiking up a small mountain to watch the sunset over the desert, where, on that mountain I ran into the Czech doctor who I had previously met in Petra. I ran into him again later that night when I discovered he was staying at the same camp and joined us or dinner and fireside chats.

It was really nice on this trip to Jordan that, even though the tourist numbers are abysmal, there were still people traveling and all of them seemed eager to talk and hang out. Just like old times.

I slept under the stars, looking up at the milky way, until I dozed off. Wadi Rum really exceeded my expectations. There were iterations of this trip, in the planning stages, where I had thought about skipping it. I am so glad I didn’t.

The next morning after breakfast, I left the camp and caught a taxi to Aqaba before bussing back to Amman.

Asia Jordan

Finally…Petra!

Have you ever had a moment where you knew, while it was happening, that you were having one of the best moments of your life? The last time I had one I was at a jazz club in Havana. But I think I had another one of those moments in Petra. Even if the rest of my trip to Jordan had been a let down (it wasn’t) that moment would have redeemed it.

I left my lodging at the Infinity Guest House early, maybe 5:30am. The sun was just starting to lighten the sky over the mountains that were the gateway to Petra

I entered the site and began the walk from the gate through unusual rocky formations punctuated with the odd temple or carving.

It was great and I took a lot of pictures, but that was just the preview.

Finally, I reached the beginning of the Siq, the 1.2 km long narrow passageway formed naturally by a fissure in the high rock walls, made smooth by the wind. It just sort of curves along and you walk between these high walls under a sliver of blue sky. Occasionally there are carvings; the remains of figures or designs, but mostly, it is just the path. And the incredible thing is, you don’t know when you will reach the end. Everyone who goes knows that when you reach the end you see you first glimpse of the Treasury, but you don’t know exactly when it will happen.

It was amazing. But what made it so amazing for me was that the whole way, from the entrance to the Siq and through it to the Treasury, I did not see anyone. It was just me. Normally there would be thousands of tourists, making noise, taking pictures, and locals there to offer things for sale. But it was all mine. All I could hear were my own footsteps. It felt magical. This was that moment that I knew I would look back on as one of the best.

Finally the Treasury did appear and it was even better than I imagined. It’s actually incredible how it was all created. You couldn’t ask for a better, more theatrical reveal to the entrance to the city of Petra. Those Nabataeans really had a flair for the theatrical.

When I did reach the Treasury, guys, most of whom seemed to be styled as Jack Sparrow, there were setting up their souvenir and coffee stands. I got a coffee and had a cigarillo, watching as the light on the Treasury grew brighter. Just then the next tourists walked in. Two of them.

I’m probably not supposed to look for anything good that came out of Covid, but this moment would not have happened without the pandemic.

Petra, the site, was inhabited by at least 7000 BC, with the city dating back to 5000 or 4000 BC. The Nabataeans were nomadic Arabs who settled there due to trade routes, or so I am told. They carved incredible temples and monuments, and city infrastructure, including means of capturing and moving rain water, which is non-existent for much of the year. In the 1st century Ad, the Romans took over and added their own flourishes, like stone streets and a large theatre. A couple hundred years later the Byzantines added churches and detailed mosaics. But the original Nabataean structures are the stand outs.

One of the neat things about the site is that, if you want to, you can just stroll down the wide main thoroughfare and take in amazing sites.

But if you want to explore, you can embark on punishing hikes that reveal yet more architectural wonders, caves, and views over the sites below.

I didn’t do all the hikes (I ran out of steam before the Monastery), but I climbed to the place of High Sacrifice and on a trail that took me up past the Royal Tombs and eventually (millions of carved stone stairs and one lost way later), led me to a tiny Bedouin tea house on the edge of a cliff over looking the Treasury. Terrific.

I spent close to an hour in that tea house, catching my breath and escaping the sun, which was harsh at this point. I talked with the other people foolish or awesome enough to make the ascent: a couple of guys from Netherlands, a man from London, a woman from Saudi Arabia.

I wandered around the rest of the site, until late afternoon, getting more fatigued as I went. The rests I took though were welcome chances to talk to locals and bedouins who told me about life in the area and, of course, there were camels.

Finally, when I had had my fill of amazing sites, I made my way out. There were more tourists at this point but not even a fraction of what there would have been under non-pandemic times. The one mistake I made in my visit to Petra was walking out. On the way out I could have taken a horse, donkey, or camel, but I stubbornly chose to walk. I love to walk. But at this point, about ten hours since I left my hotel and in the heat, I was exhausted, the walk out seemed so much longer as I shuffled along in the dust. I should have sitting majestically on top of a camel.

When I emerged from the site, I made my way to the Cave Bar (actually, first I laid down on the ground and then I walked to the Cave Bar), allegedly the oldest bar in the world, sat down on a shady, pillow covered sofa, and downed a virgin piña colada and a fresh mint/lemon juice while nibbling on hummus and labneh and smoking a Bolivar Royal Corona (cigar).

Post Petra, everyone seemed to be in a social, happy mood, and I chatted with other sweaty and satisfied travellers, recounting our similar but special days.

The one thing that may have been unique to my Petra experience is that my boots completely fell apart. Like, it was almost comical. One of the heels disintegrated and the sole of another wore through. And these were trusty boots that had seen me through hikes in places as far flung as Nepal and Ethiopia. I found a taxi and asked him to take me to the nearest shoe store. He not only dropped me off, but came in and helped me pick out sneakers. He was so good natured, I asked him to drive me to Wadi Rum the next morning, which he did.

I finished my day with a second cigar at my accommodations with dinner and the night air. It had been a perfect day. (And I still had Wadi Rum to look forward to.)

Asia Jordan

King’s Highway: Amman to Petra

I needed to get from Amman to Petra. I had hoped to take the inexpensive and comfortable Jett Bus, but both the website and my hostel said it was not running that day; the schedules had been cut back due to dwindling tourists in these covid times. I could have taken a minivan, but I didn’t relish being crammed into an airless van for about four hours, so I googled private car to Petra and found a place (one of many, really) that would take to Petra in comfort and along the slightly longer but more scenic King’s Highway. It was a good choice.

The faster way to Petra is along the Desert Highway, which is about 3 hours by car or 4 hours by bus but isn’t much to look at. The King’s Highway, with stops, is 6ish hours. The views and stops aren’t breathtaking, but they are good and worthwhile and certainly better than the Desert Highway.

My driver, Ali, (found through localtrips.net), was great and knew all the right places to stop for me to take in the views as the city melted away into olive orchards and then eventually the landscape became a lot of…nothing. Just rocky, barren vistas; beautiful in their own way.

On the way, we drove through some small cities and stopped at the castles of Kerak and Shobak, which I could wander at my leisure.

Kerak is a crusader castle dating back to the 1100s and is certainly worth a visit, if not to explore the ruins, then to enjoy the views. Other than the guards at the gate, I had the place to myself.

We stopped and had falafel at a hole in the wall restaurant nearby in the surrounding small town, before heading farther south and stopping at Shobak Castle.

Shobak is another similarly dated Crusader castle, but in much poorer condition. It’s really not much to see, but it does have great views of the landscape.

I met a couple from Spain up there and we chatted about what travel was like during the pandemic. Other than them, the site was empty.

Near Shokak is the ‘world’s smallest hotel’, which is a VW beetle parked by the roadside. I couldn’t get a good picture of it, but it looked cute as we zipped by. This picture I took from the castle, so the car is just a speck. (Officially there is a proper hotel in Germany that holds the title of smallest, but the beetle is clearly smaller, albeit an alternative lodging.)

world smallest (VW) hotel, by the shrubbery in the middle

Finally, we arrived in the city of Petra (technically, Wadi Musa). An impossibly hilly place that made walking a serious challenge but created incredible views. Even the cars had difficulty stopping on some of the streets due to the incline.

I checked into my lodging, the Infinity Lodge. It was wonderful. My room was so fancy and had all the amenities, including my own balcony overlooking the city and mountains, behind which Petra was located. And they had lovely outdoor areas for meals, which they prepared and all of which were wonderful.

I walked gingerly from the residential area where the guesthouse was to the town. It’s not far, but the descent was so steep I had to take little baby steps to avoid slipping.

There is not much in the town. Souvenir stands with names link ‘Indiana Jones’, hotels, and restaurants. A lot of things were closed. Normally, Petra sees up to 10,000 tourists a day during high season and about 6,000 per day in the low season. Right now, I was told, they are getting 150-300 per day. So the scene in Wadi Rum was…quiet.

I walked and settled in to the patio of a restaurant for a cigar and a meal, watching the few tourists way away from Petra, exhausted. I talked with a doctor from the Czech Republic who was travelling solo and had just finished his day in Petra. (I ended up running him to him 2 more times in Wadi Rum.)

I finished the day with a cigar and an elaborate dinner at the lodge, watching the city light up and listening to the call to prayer. Wonderful. I stayed up way too late, given that the next morning I planned to be at Petra at 6:00 am.

Asia Jordan

Amman Arrival

Why Jordan / Why Now

When Canada dropped the covid quarantine requirement for its returning, vaccinated travellers, I knew it was time to plan something. I had been to Ukraine a couple months prior and that went well so it was time go farther afield. The number one place I wanted to go was Jordan.

Jordan had been high on my list of places to go for many years. Decades, really. But somehow I never went. As I visited other big heritage sights (the pyramids in Egypt, Machu Picchu, Abu Simbel, Lalibela, etc) I sort of held on to Jordan, figuring I would go there one day and I liked having Petra in the future, as something to look forward to. Then the pandemic hit and travel was effectively taken away for a time and I thought that Jordan, and Petra in particular, would be the place I would go as soon as I was able. No more putting it off; ‘one day’ may never come. And so I went.

Covid Travel

I flew to Amman from Vancouver via Toronto and Doha, covid tests, vaccination forms, pre-approval paperwork all in hand. It is easy in this time of travel to get frustrated by the queues, the ever-changing restrictions, the paperwork. I could spend half my time I airports feeling frustrated by the rules and the other half of my time feeling irritated by the people who do not follow the rules, but instead I have adopted a mantra of “I’m just happy to be here.” Whenever I want to simmer about yet another hour long queue to show my paperwork yet again or about the person seated next to me on the plane who just refuses to wear their mask, I just remind myself that I am just happy to be traveling, hoops and all.

As of the writing of this, to enter Jordan without a quarantine or test at the border, you must be double vaccinated with an approved vaccine and have pre filled out a form through the https://www.visitjordan.gov.jo that gives you a QR card that you show before boarding and again on arrival. Officially, masks and gloves are required in all indoor, public places, but I didn’t see a single person wearing gloves and mask use was…inconsistent at best. But all of that may change at any minute.

Amman

I arrived in Amman at about 11pm and by 11:30 was pulling up to my hostel (the Cabin Hostel) in the heart of the city and was delighted to see that even at that late hour, the city was alive. Everything was open and the streets were busy. I don’t know why people would be shopping for suits and spices at close to midnight, but if it strikes your fancy, you can do it in Amman.

The Cabin Hostel, by the way, is perfect. You couldn’t ask for a better location, surrounded by inviting cafes and restaurants, on the edge of the souks, and a short walk from both the Citadel and the Roman Theatre. It has cozy dorms and serviceable private rooms, and a shady rooftop for breakfasts and general socializing. And it is cheap.

The next morning, I set off early with my sights set on the Citadel. The map showed that it was not far – and it isn’t – but the thing I quickly realized about Amman is that they don’t call it the city of seven hills for nothing. Indeed, that might be an understatement. It seemed that everywhere I went I was walking uphill. In some areas the hills were so steep that the sidewalks just became daunting staircases. All the better to work up an appetite for falafel. It was fine, if not leisurely, for walking. It was hot though. As a demonstration, this is me as I left my hostel that morning:

And this is my one hour later, red-faced and sweaty, though quite happy:

The Citadel is an historical site occupied since about 1800 BC and is most famous for being the site of the Temple of Hercules, of which several columns remain and, fantastically, has the remnants of a massive statue of Hercules. It’s just a part of a hand and an elbow but they are large and delicately carved. The original monument must have been amazing.

The Citadel also offers great views of the city.

From there I meandered my way down to the 2^nd century Roman theatre.

And then I wandered the streets, visiting the souks and a few mosques.

I saw the first of some excellent street art murals.

Exhausted from the heat and the walking I spotted an inviting balcony on a second level of a building and popped in for some fresh lemon mint juice and a matching lemon mint shisha, happy for the breeze and for a bit of distance from the hectic streets. The waiter did not speak English, but continually stopped by my table to mutter things to me. On my way out, just as I began descending the stairs to leave, he approached me and grabbed my hand, pulling me for a kiss. I gave him a sharp “No” and shoved him back against the wall. He accepted his defeat and simply said goodbye. In English. I thought, “Great, am I going to have to deal with this bullshit the whole trip?” Thankfully, I did not and that was the only bit of harassment I faced.

I walked (really, climbed) to Rainbow Street, which is a street full of eateries, shops, and galleries, for dinner. I wasn’t crazy about it. Everything seemed a little too expensive and not that appealing, but my opinion on that seems to be the minority.

I finished the day joining the masses wandering around the souq area near my hostel at night, enjoying the reprieve from the heat, until finally settling in on a quite alley for some fresh fruit juice and a cigar, watching the crowds and the on again-off again amorous advances of the many stray cats.

It was a packed day. I didn’t see everything of course, but it was a good start, and I would be back at the end of my trip, but the next day was a trip down the King’s Highway to Petra.

Asia Pakistan/Oman trip 2020 Qatar

A Day in Doha, Qatar

I flew from Lahore, Pakistan to Vancouver, Canada via Doha, Qatar. I had various options as to how long a layover I wanted in Doha, everything from a couple of hours to 24 hours. Obviously I went for the longer version. I had no prior interest in Doha, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to see a bit. I am so glad I had the layover and I had good time, but 24 hours was sufficient to satisfy my curiosity.

You might not know Qatar; and fair enough. It is but a pinprick on the map. It is a tiny appendage on the Arabian peninsula between Bahrain and the UAE. It is like the uvula of the Persian Gulf. It has beaches and sweeping sand dunes. Traditional souqs and futuristic towers. I was only there for a day so I was sticking to Doha and specifically the area around the historic souq.

I landed early. Immigration was quick and orderly and I did not linger in the airport. I only had 24 hours. I taxied to my hotel. As I do customarily, I splurged on my final night of vacation and stayed in a posh hotel (the Al Najada by Tivoli). Fancy. My room was bigger than my apartment and had a lovely view. But the big draw of the hotel was that it is just across the street from Souq Wahif.

Doha is a city divided. It has a very modern area on one of the corniche and a historic and meticulously preserved souq area towards the other end. Away from the water are regular areas, neither historic nor futuristic, visible from the taxi window.

The souq is about 250 years old, but in recent years, after a fire and decline, it was restored. So it is old and new. The renovations undertaken preserved the original character and architecture.

After being in Lahore for a bit, it was a nice change. I enjoyed wandering around the market, browsing the wares, and drinking fresh juice, and smoking shisha.

The locals wear traditional attire, with the men wearing long white tunics and loose white headdresses (called a gutra) held in place with a black rope (called an agal). The women’s dress was less uniform, but seemed to be more often black and a little more covered up. This was in sharp contrast to the tourists, most of whom were on shore leave from their cruise ships and looked shockingly underdressed by comparison. Qatar advises tourists not to wear miniskirts, sleeveless tops, and short or tight clothing in public.

One thing that was, for me, unique to the area were the falcons. There is a tradition of falconry in Qatar. There is even a whole Falcon Souq just next to Souq Wahif. Doha is downright crazy for falcons. They have festivals of falconry, races, hunting, etc. Falcons are apparently also seen as status symbols. In and around the souq, men can be seen walking around displaying a formidable looking falcon on their arm. (Try as I might I could not get any worthwhile photos of that.) In the Falcon Souq there are shops selling falcons and related accoutrements – including tiny leather helmets. There is even a dedicated falcon hospital.

Also in and around the souqs are stables of camels and horses.

The souq is, at first, utterly charming. It is so pleasant and easy for exploring. Appealing cafes and restaurants, shops selling spices and colorful textiles, the bubbling and fruity smoke from hookahs.

But it also feels very sanitized. I don’t know if it is the newness or the cleanliness or the obvious catering to tourists, but it does feel a bit like you are in some Disney park “Arabia Land.”

So after a trip where I was sick and staying in a grotty hostel it was nice to be somewhere totally different, but I didn’t feel like I wanted more time.

I enjoyed a leisurely walk along the corniche, enjoying the views and the sea air.

I also enjoyed the endless pictures of the Emir. Qatar is a “semi constitutional monarchy”, having a Prime Minister and an Emir (though the Emir appoints the PM, so his power is the one that matters). The Emir is Tamim Bin Hamad and his face is everywhere. On buildings and flags, merchandise and paintings, even showing up as latte art.

There are some other landmarks and museums in Doha that I could have visited, but I was still sick and feeling tired, so I had a relaxing day of walking with stops for shisha or cigars.

In the welcome cool of the evening, I had dinner and shisha in the souq and walked around looking at the illuminated building.

It was a great layover and a relaxing way to end my trip.

When I left the next morning for Vancouver I had already booked trips abroad for first half of 2020 and was looking forward to seeing Denmark, Ukraine, Iraqi Kurdistan, and Sudan…but of course none of that happened and this was my only international trip in 2020. I am still sad about that.

Asia Pakistan Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

Sufi Night in Lahore, Pakistan

My third day in Lahore I had planned to see more of the city and spend the evening watching dervishes whirl, but the day did not go as planned. The illness I had come down with the night before persisted. I did make it to Sufi night, but that was about the only thing I did.

Still Sick

I spent most of my day in my little, windowless hostel room. I had a fever, I was freezing cold, and I ached all over. I was nauseous and got up to go to the bathroom, which was not attached to my room and lacked basic facilities. Fine when you’re well; but very inconvenient when you’re sick. I just laid there, with not even enough energy to read.

Finally, in the early evening, I went for walk down the block to a market to buy toilet paper and water and I went to a restaurant with a patio. I ordered a platter of assorted vegetarian, Pakistani dishes. I had no appetite, but I figured I should eat something so I had nibbles of the dishes, leaving most of it. I at least wanted to try some local food. It was very good. I wish I had been hungry.

Some pictures from my outing:

That night – Thursday night – was “Sufi Night”. I was going no matter what.

Sufi Night

Every Thursday night, followers of the Sufi faith in Lahore gather at a few places, including the shrine to Sufi Saint Shah Jamal, for an all night gathering of music, dance, and prayer. I went with the manager of my hostel. I am glad I did. I could easily have taken a tuk tuk to the shrine, but it would have been intimidating and I would not have gotten as close.

The shrine was on a crazy busy but small street lined with shops. People and tuk tuks pressed in. I had to cover my head well before we entered the area and I kept it covered, I didn’t see any other obvious foreigners and few women.

We walked into and through the marble shrine and to the back of it, where a couple hundred people gathered outside under some large bodhi (peepal) trees. There were lights strung up and fires burned. The air was thick with incense and hashish smoke.

In the clearing in the middle of the people was a group of musicians, notably drummers, wearing log red robes with drums like wine barrels hung in front of them by a sash around their necks. They beat on their drums with hook-shaped implements, creating the rhythm that drove everything and everyone around it.

The clearing was filled with maybe 15 men; each dressed in a single color, barefoot, spinning. Some of them spun constantly, some spun intermittently. Arms out, head slightly back. Eyes closed or open, but intensely focused on something. Others danced, stomped, thrashed, swayed, kicked legs, waved arms, rolled heads, twitched hips. It was fascinating. Even a little unsettling at times.

My companion forced us right up to the front. We were seated cross-legged on the ground; sometimes just a few inches from a foot or knee.

The dancers seemed unaware of the crowd or each other. Like they were in a trance. Some of them wore bells that made them part of the music.

The crowed swayed and nodded to the beat. It was easy to become entranced just watching (though obviously not to the same degree). Occasionally someone from the audience would join in, briefly.

The most extreme thing I saw was one young man who had been dancing and spinning, kneeled down and began pounding his forehead into the ground along to the music. Someone eventually put some cloth under his head to prevent him from doing more damage to himself.

A couple of times one of the drummers took to the clearing and, while continuing to drum the beat, spun around fast; never losing the pulse of the music.

It was hypnotic and fascinating.

I took photos, but they are all a blur. Literally.

After about 2 hours I had to insist we leave. It just continues until dawn (theoretically) and people come and go. My unsettled stomach insisted that we leave when we did.

I think this is a ‘must do’ if visiting Lahore. If I had been feeling better, I would have liked to wander around the shrine and the neighbourhood more, but what I saw was great.

Winding up in Lahore

I will add that the next day in Lahore was my last. It was the day I would have gone on a day trip out of the city, but I still felt awful. I took antibiotics, but again, I spent most of the day in bed, going out in the late afternoon for a very slow walk to a local park around a library (?), where I sat outside and sipped at a coffee.

That was it for Lahore for me. Not as action packed as I had planned, but yet it was thoroughly satisfying. I look forward to returning to Pakistan someday to see more, but on this trip that was it. I would have one night in Doha and then I was back to Vancouver.

Asia Pakistan Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

Wagah Border Ceremony – The View from Lahore

Wagah Border

Getting there

At the end of day two in Lahore, Pakistan I planned to go to the Wagah border between Pakistan and India for the famous Wagah Border ceremony. Each day since 1959 an impressive military ceremony is held at this border crossing, on both sides, with great fanfare and feats. Apparently it was not to be missed, so I put it on my list.

The border is not too far from Lahore and you can take a taxi and arrange to have them wait and drive you back or you can take a bus and walk a bit, but I went with a hassle free and slightly more pricey option; I went with the manager of my hostel in a car. While it did cost a little more than if I went on my own, it was worth it. I was able to ask lots of questions and get pictures that I probably would not have been comfortable asking for on my own. On the way there I enjoyed seeing the sights and streets, as the driver stopped repeatedly to get snacks for us to share – samosas, oranges, popcorn.

The Event

Everyday before sunset, hundreds of spectators gather in stadium-style seating on either side of the border, which is marked with a tall, pointy fence and gate. On one side is India and the other Pakistan. Each side has its group of aggressively moustachioed soldiers in fancy dress, complete with elaborate headdresses. There is music and flag waving.

*Looking Across the Border to the Indian Side*

Prior to the actual ceremony starting the crowds are worked into a frenzy with music and singing and cheering. There were men who hyped up the crowd, leading cheers and yells, waving huge flags. One man, who had only one leg, delighted the crown by spinning around and around and waving a massive flag in the air with endless enthusiasm.

Entrance is free and if you are a foreigner there you will be ushered to one of the seats in front for the best views.

During all this pre-ceremony hoopla, the soldiers are strutting around and posing for photographs. I couldn’t resist. Not only are their uniforms imposing, but they are ridiculously tall. Just for context in the photos, I am 5’9″ and they tower over me.

Finally, the ceremony started. The gates along the border open, though to be clear: the border may not be crossed. I asked my companion what would happen if one of the soldiers accidentally crossed the line and he said he would be jailed or killed. I couldn’t gauge if he was serious.

The ceremony itself consists of marching and competitions of who could blow a horn the longest and who could kick the highest. There is a lot of posturing, including assertive moustache twirling. There and regular chants of “Pakistaaaaan” and something about Allah and the crown went wild; leaping to its feet to join in.

It was very weird and really interesting. I had a great time. On the way back to the car about a half dozen people asked to take selfies with me; a trend that continued during my time in Lahore. Seriously, the friendliest people.

The Sickness Sets In…

That evening I hung out at the hostel, on the patio, chatting with a couple of hard core, long term travellers. It was great. But soon I started to feel…not so good. I was freezing cold (for no normal reason) and my hands started visibly shaking. At bedtime, I but slept poorly as I developed a fever and digestive issues. I felt awful but I figured that I had food poisoning.

In the morning I did not feel better and the symptoms then also included intense body aches. I’ve been sick on travels before and I wasn’t surprised – after all, I had been eating from food stalls with communal dishes and utensils – but this was bad. I didn’t think about it at the time, as I was only peripherally aware of coronavirus (it was mid-late February 2020), but weeks later, when I was home and still feeling bad with aches, a bad cough, occasional fever, and diarrhea it occurred to me I could had covid19, but at the time it did not occur to me at all. So my next two days in Lahore were mostly spent in my dismal room, feeling awful. Thankfully I packed my first two days with activity, so I didn’t feel deprived, though I did wish I had picked a nicer place to stay.

Fortunately, the next night I did muster enough fortitude to see the dervishes. That’s for another post.

Asia Pakistan Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

More Lahore: the Fort, the Mosque, & the Old City

On my second day in Lahore, My plan was to explore the fort, mosque, and old city. I awoke early at my hostel. There was meant to be breakfast, but no one was up, so I went out for a walk in search of coffee. I walked up to the high street and meandered along until I saw a “food street”. Lahore has one popular and touristy food street, but the reality is that there are multiple food streets, which are basically just streets that are nothing but restaurants and food vendors.

It was a great street for walking. People, well, men actually, were gathering to eat plates filled with meaty offerings, flat breads, rice, and tea. I could not find anything vegetarian and I was later told that coffee is usually had later in the day. I did get a fresh carrot juice and a salty lassi, made by fancily dressed men who beat the thick yogurt into submission with long, wooden poles.

I wandered around a bit more, stopping to peer at the Lahore Museum and the Zamzama Gun (cannon) out front, which features in the opening lines of the Rudyard Kipling novel Kim.

There is a lot of grand architecture up and down The Mall with narrow streets crossing, where the architecture becomes…less grand, but also kind of wonderful. Narrow, colorful, and a bit chaotic.

I went back to my hostel where breakfast was served. Tea and a large, greasy, spicy flatbread with potatoes and carrots served on newspaper and with dishes that felt far from clean, on a table to match.

It was time to go the Badshahi Mosque. I think I could have walked, but it would have taken quite a while, so I jumped in a tuk tuk (which cost next to nothing after only minimal haggling) and was dropped off at the entrance to the mosque.

Head coverings and modest dress were required. I kept my head covered most of the time in Lahore, as it was difficult to know where it was and was not required.

The Badshahi Mosque was stunning. It did look a lot like the grand mosque in Delhi, but was much larger. It was completed in 1773 and is an imposing and delicate structure with graceful minarets and intricate jeweled inlay.

I walked around, watching equal parts of people praying and taking selfies. Clearly, I was in the latter group.

Right next to the mosque is the Lahore Fort, which is a massive citadel spanning 20 hectares and containing multiple buildings. There has been a fort there since at least the 11^th C (there have been settlements there going back to 2000 BC), but the fort that is there now dates back to the 16^th C, with most of it having been rebuilt in the 17^th C.

There is a modest entry fee to the Fort and headscarves were required. I opted not to take a guided tour, and instead just walked around the buildings. Definitely worth visiting, but I got a bit bored after a while and wanted to be back on the streets, so I exited through a gate – not the gate I entered through – and then had no idea where I was. There were decorative tuk tuks waiting and I had one drop me off at a specific to the Old City, where I had the start of a walk planned.

The Old City (aka The Walled City of Lahore) is a walled city within Lahore dating back to the 11^th C, but having been rebuilt since then. Like a medina in a Middle Eastern city, it is a labyrinthine city with appealing, traditional shops and mosques.

The best thing to do is just walk aimlessly, finding what there is to find. Eventually you will find a gate to exit through and if you are lost, there are always tuk tuks to rescue you.

I was delighted. I came across a traditional hookah and tobacco shop run by serious-looking moustachioed men. They used the type of hookahs that have long metal tubes that one smokes through instead of hoses. And the tobacco is not the moist, fruity variety; it is mostly dried and twisted into long thick ropes. The men there did not speak much English, but they understood that I loved their shop and they happily let me take photos.

Just after that, a young man who did speak English called me over to his cart from where he was selling yellow lentil cakes served with spicy sauce. Delicious. He insisted that I have one for free, though I did buy a second one.

I walked to the Wazir Khan Mosque, which I was looking forward to seeing, as it is known for being one of the most ornate mosques of the Mughal period.

After that, I walked around the Old City, browsing and taking pictures and chatting with locals where possible. I bought a new red headscarf.

I feel I should say that at no point did I feel unsafe or uncomfortable. I was dressed respectfully, though I did attract a fair bit of attention due to being an obvious tourist.

By late afternoon I made my way back to my hostel, as I had arranged to take a car to the Wagah Border that evening to watch the daily ceremony. I’ll put that in a separate post.

Lahore was just marvelous. I had plans to explore more of the city and different areas, though that was not to be; but the time I did spend there satisfied me thoroughly. The people were so friendly, the city was exciting, and the sights were impressive. It was exactly what I wanted.

Wandering North

Category: Asia

Return to Amman

A few hours in Aqaba

Wadi Rum

Finally…Petra!

King’s Highway: Amman to Petra

Amman Arrival

Why Jordan / Why Now

Covid Travel

Amman

A Day in Doha, Qatar

Sufi Night in Lahore, Pakistan

Still Sick

Sufi Night

Winding up in Lahore

Wagah Border Ceremony – The View from Lahore

Wagah Border

Getting there

The Event

The Sickness Sets In…

More Lahore: the Fort, the Mosque, & the Old City