Wandering North

Europe Sweden

A Morning in Malmö

I arrived in Malmö at the train station from Copenhagen, which makes a good first impression, along a scenic waterway and just steps off of pretty Malmö square. Pretty though it was, there wasn’t a whole bunch to do and it was early so a lot of things weren’t open.

So I took a stroll through the historic town centre and Slottsparken (castle park) over to Malmö castle sitting on the edge of the park near a windmill and on a waterway with swans.

The castle itself is only moderately interesting, though I did have a great chat with one of the docents who was full of colourful historic stories of imprisonment, scandal, and witches. The great thing about the castle though is that your ticket also gets you into a gallery, a natural history museum, and an aquarium. I went to the art gallery, which was small, but well curated and had a good collection of Swedish art.

From there I went back to the town and went to a small design museum to take in a textile exhibit, which was ok.

Past colourful buildings and patios of cozily dressed brunchers, I too settled down at a café for a coffee and one Sweden’s famous cinnamon buns.

It was a short visit. Just a few hours. But it was great and so cool just to be able to hop on a train and be in a new country.

I was returning to Copenhagen to finish up my long weekend but I was doing so having seen a bit of Sweden, which was real bonus

Denmark Europe

Copenhagen Long Weekend: Sunday

My second day in Copenhagen had an early start. Once I had realized, some time ago, that I could take the train from Copenhagen to Malmö, Sweden in less than an hour, there was not way that I wasn’t going to go.

I had an excellent coffee and a revelatory sandwich (seriously, how are the sandwiches here so good?) and proceeded directly to the central train station. The trains for Malmö leave about every 20 minutes. A ticket and and a few minutes later and I was on board, flying across the Øresund bridge to Sweden.

Because Malmö is in Sweden, I’ll save the description of my time there for another post, here.

I wasn’t in Malmö for more than about 4 hours, so it was early afternoon when I returned to Copenhagen and I took the metro to Nørrebro.

About four days before I went to Copenhagen, a certain international magazine had declared Nørrebro the ‘coolest neighbour hood in the world’, so I figured I ought to check it out.

Nørrebro’s coolness seems to stem from its multicultural population and sense of community. These are both good things, and I can certainly see why the multicultural aspect is of note in Copenhagen, which does feel a little…homogeneous. Coming from Vancouver though, where it is the norm to have people from literally everywhere and and multiculturalism a part of the national identity, Nørrebro didn’t seem so novel in that regard. But it was cool.

It has many of the hallmarks of an up and coming neighbourhood. Street art, excellent cafes, skateboard parks, vintage shops, stores by local and young makers of things and art.

The thing Nørrebro is most famous for though is Superkilen park. The park has some normal things, like green space, sports fields, and walking and biking paths. But it really manifests Nørrebro’s multicultural nature with stuff from all around the world. I couldn’t possibly name all of the things, but amongst the things there are swings from Iraq, a fountain from Morocco, a slide from Japan, a boxing ring from Thailand, soil from Palestine, basketball hoops from Somalia, etc. It’s pretty neat and impressive how much effort went into it. The space was used by families and individuals for playing, socializing, and exercise. It is also home to the Human Library, where you can select a human who will sit with you and tell you a bit of their life story, as a way to make connections. A really nice use of public space.

From Nørrebro I went back to the hostel for a bit of a rest and a chat with the other girls. I then went for an unusual cocktail at a lovely and cozy bar called Ruby’s (a cocktail whose ingredients included whiskey, cherry brandy, whey, and kelp). I then figured I would walk to the Little Mermaid statue. I didn’t care about seeing it really, but I also figured I couldn’t leave and not see it.

It was so dark and I walked past a palace, shrieking when one of the tall, furry hatted and armed guards silently stepped out in from of me from the shadows. He remained suitably stoic. I walked along the sea wall until I saw her, Hans Christian Andersen’s Little Mermaid on a rock, barely visible in the moonlight. It was as underwhelming as I had thought it would be, but I liked the walk.

I finished the evening, quite unintentionally at a fancy French restaurant (I found myself in a very expensive neighbourhood and desperate for a bathroom so I went to the first place that I found) where I had an excellent meal and a Montecristo No.2 while chatting with a visiting chef.

That ended my evening and my weekend in Copenhagen. I had an early flight back home the next day.

I loved Copenhagen and, while I am not often inclined to return to places, there is more there that I would like to do, so I can imagine a return visit at some point in the future but I am very satisfied with what I experienced in my short time.

Denmark Europe

Copenhagen Long Weekend: A pleasantly surprising start

Arrival

Copenhagen is far from Vancouver. About 11 and a half hours if you get a direct flight. However, in the spring of 2020 I had planned to take a four-day weekend trip to see the Danish capital. Of course, that trip was cancelled due to covid. Flash forward to October 2021 and a four-day weekend coupled with a complete lack of covid restrictions in Denmark made the trip seem like a very good idea. I booked it within a week of leaving, but the planning was easy, as I had done it all the previous year.

I flew to London, enjoyed a brief layover and flew to Copenhagen, arriving at about 6pm. Because Denmark had dropped its covid restrictions, as long as you are vaccinated, you don’t even need a test to go there. And once I left the airport, I got to ditch my mask for the weekend. It was like it was 2019 all over again.

That said, Canada has not dropped its covid restrictions, so the first thing I did was get a PCR test at the airport, since I would need it for my return to Canada. Unlike in every other country I have been to since the pandemic started, covid tests in Denmark are free.

I took the train to the central station and walked the few blocks to my hostel. I was staying at the Steel House hostel, in a dorm. I don’t often stay in dorms. As much as I love the hostel vibes and amenities, I do prefer having my own bedroom. But Copenhagen is really expensive and if you are going to splurge on a weekend trip to Europe, you have to cut corners somewhere. The Steel House hostel is quite fancy and has a ton of amenities. The dorms are space age situations with gleaming white bunks and chrome touches. Not pods, but they had that feel. Fortunately, my dorm mates were a very friendly group of girls from Germany and Taiwan and I enjoyed their company when we swapped stories at the end of the day.

As soon as I found my bunk, I ditched my backpack and hit the streets. It was dark, but not late, and there were people out everywhere. I didn’t have a plan, but ended up meandering over to Nyhaven, because that’s the place that you see in all the travel pictures. Nyhaven was … fine. At night anyway, it was nice in an “I’m really in Copenhagen” way, but wasn’t my scene. I did love walking through the city though. Lovely streets, glittering canals, appealing cafés with warm lights, and glimpses of things I would see properly the next day. There is nothing like that first walk in a new city, when you are finding your way and just discovering where you are.

I walked and walked before settling at a restaurant, outside, by one of the canals. All of the outdoor eateries were packed, even though it was October. After dinner I slept soundly, excited to wake up and start the day.

Exploring Copenhagen

Saturday morning I got up ridiculously early. I only had two full days in Copenhagen, I wasn’t going to spend them sleeping in.

The day was clear and crisp. Perfect for walking. And did I walk. First I walked a similar route to that which I taken the night before, enjoying seeing everything in the light of day. The dumb thing about getting up so early was that nothing was open for coffee. I ended up getting a coffee from a convenience store (I know…) and sitting outside in a square near the statue of Hans Christian Anderson. I little while later I had a proper coffee at a café and had a pastry. They aren’t messing around when it comes to coffee and bread products there. Every single thing I had to eat was excellent.

I walked over to Christiansborg Palace (a palace, the house of Parliament, Prime Minister’s office and Supreme Court) on a little island and watched them exercising the horses and wandered over to the gardens in front of the Queen’s library. I had forgotten, until I saw the palace, that Denmark still has a monarchy. Speaking of islands, Copenhagen has 1,419* of them. A fact I find stunning. Like, if someone told you the tiny country of Copenhagen had “a lot of islands” you would probably think that number to be around 50, maybe 70; but 1,419 seems impossible. I think I only set foot on four of them. (*only about 443 have been named and only 78 are populated.)

I walked over to a large waterway where people were walking the sea wall, sitting with coffee, rowing on the water, having a morning cigarette. This was also my first glimpse of the modern architecture in the city and have to say, it is a bit disappointing. Not bad, but not great. I preferred the historic buildings.

crossing over to the islet of Slotsholmen

At this point I decided to go to a museum. On the way there, I visit the Danish Pipe Shop for a browse and to pick up some cigars (and get tips of where to smoke from the proprietor). Just around the corner was a small square, where there was a very unusual statue. Terrifying pigs in overcoats, men with screaming faces and a giant hand giving the middle finger. By Jens Galschiøt, it is a temporary installation celebrating the 700^th anniversary of Dante’s death and some commentary on modern city life. I couldn’t find much about the sculpture in English, but the artist is pretty interesting and I like anything that disrupts the flow of city life, which this sculpture definitely does.

I went to the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, a fine arts (mostly sculpture) museum. It is a good size and has a pretty little tropical courtyard. I found it very pleasant and particularly liked the Egyptian mummies and – most of all – the nasotheque. The museum has a small and unusual collection of noses that have fallen off ancient sculptures. (Nasotheque, like bibliotheque or discotheque – not my invention. It’s what the museum called it.) I can’t explain the ears included.

I walked back to Nyhaven to see all of the colorful buildings in the daylight. Along the way I passed by Tivoli Gardens (actually for like the 4^th time; it’s right in the centre of town). I was sad that the park was closed that weekend to set up for Halloween and each time I saw the rides and decorations peeking out from above the barriers, I was a bit wistful, but I can always come back some day to ride the rides. If you don’t know, Tivoli is the second oldest theme park in the world and is said to be the inspiration for Disneyland. And looking at what I could see, the similarities are apparent, right down to a Matterhorn type rollercoaster.

The entrance to Tivoli Gardens, halloween style

Nyhaven is lovely a strip of colorful buildings along a canal just off of the sea port. Tall ships docked and canal-side eateries full to the brim. Set against a blue sky it is perfect. I still didn’t have much desire to hang out or eat there (it is a bit crowded) but it is pleasant to see.

I walked over the round tower and, feeling peckish, stopped for a hot dog. Copenhagen is lousy with hot dog carts or pølsevogn, as they call them. (Actually, it was the only street food I saw in Copenhagen other than warm nuts.) They seem to be sort of a fancier version than in North America and have different toppings and better quality ingredients. I had read that Copenhagen was the ‘hot dog capital of the world’ so I had to have one. After several failed attempts, I found one sausage wagon that had a vegetarian option. At the foot of the round tower. Mine came with mustard, remoulade, onions, and pickles. It was good and one of the least expensive meals in had in the pricy city.

I then walked over to Rosenborg Castle (or Rosenborg Slot, in Danish), a Renaissance castle from 1606, now a museum and tourist attraction. The castle is pretty and pleasant, and has a treasury with weapons, wine, and impressive jewels. It is set in a lovely park and guarded by ever-marching, armed soldiers.

Freetown Christiania

I decided to walk from Rosenbourg Castle, lap of monarchial luxury, to the other extreme: Freetown Christiania. (Note that this required walking back past Nyhaven. I really did not plan an orderly walking route.) To get to Freetown Christiania, I walked across two bridges, past crowds of people at beer gardens and out on small boats with bottles of wine and picnics, or on bicycles.

I haven’t even mentioned the bicycles. Copenhagen is a bicycle city, with dedicated lanes everywhere and masses of bikes parked – many not even locked up, because Copenhagen is just that safe. Unlike in some biking cities, where the cyclists seem aggressive, here, everyone just seemed so calm and happy, as they peddled along. And it is totally flat, so the cycling is nearly effortless.

Anyway: Freetown Christiania. It is a self-declared micro state and commune set on an island in Copenhagen. It was founded by squatters in the early 1970s and is home to about 1000 residents. It has its own flag and laws (sort of – its legal status is constantly in flux). It is a real hippie place with no cars, colorful art works, and a big meditation and yoga scene. Danish law is not really enforced there and cannabis is sold and consumed openly (it is illegal in Denmark; something that seems so weird coming from Canada).

It is worth visiting, though I have to say it wasn’t my cup of tea. It’s interesting (the day I was there, there were many police standing at the entrance but not entering) and there are some cute, colorful buildings and whimsical art, but it didn’t keep me entertained for long. There are a lot of cannabis sellers there, but, again, this is legal in Canada, so it didn’t have that exciting appeal of the illicit.

After a bit of a look around, I returned to the mainland. (Note that there are rules in Freetown Christiania, which includes no running [it makes people think there is a police raid] and no photos of people [which makes taking pictures of anything a challenge]).

Smørrebrød, cigars, and my assessment of Copenhagen so far

At this point, I decided to go for a quick bite: some amazing smørrebrød. The famous, Danish open faced sandwich. I don’t know how such a simple dish can be so delicious, but…wow. So happy to find vegetarian options. It would never have occurred to me to put pickled onions and hazelnuts on a sandwich. My horizons have been expanded.

While sitting there eating, I took some time to assess my experience so far. A day in and I was surprisingly smitten with Copenhagen. Honestly, I expected it to be a bit dull, which was part of the reason I picked it for my weekend city break. But I didn’t find it dull. I loved it. I loved the food and the coffee. I loved the pretty, but understated historical architecture. I loved the canals and the squares and the bike paths. I loved that people were out eating and drinking on patios in the chilly night air, cozied up under blankets. I loved that there were more museums and art galleries than I could visit in a month, let alone a weekend. I loved the way everyone was dressed. They seemed both dressier and more casual than in Vancouver. Like, people in Copenhagen are dressed for comfort, but in a way that doesn’t look like they are headed to the gym or bed. Smart sneakers, over-sized cozy knitwear, big wool coats, loose jeans, turtlenecks…I don’t know, they looked effortlessly cool. And everyone looked very attractive, in a really natural, healthy sort of way. Copenhagen didn’t remind me of any place I had been before. It just seemed specific to itself. This all came as a pleasant surprise to me.

I popped back to the hostel for about an hour and chatted with my dorm mates, who had also migrated back for a bit of a rest. We had all done similar things during the day and it was fun to compare notes and swap recommendations.

I ended my long day at the Musen & Elefanten (mouse & elephant) bar, recommended to me by the guy at the Danish Pipe Shop. It was a tiny, slightly sub-terranean watering hole. Super cozy. The best thing about it was that they allowed cigar smoking indoors (possibly the only place in the city that does). I sat at the bar and enjoyed a Partagas Serie D No.2 and a Hoyo Epicure No.2 along with a cocktail or two made by the extremely affable bartender, with whom I chatted. It was a very nice end to the day.

I returned to my hostel and got cozy in my bunk, later than all my dorm mates and fell asleep immediately, unsurprisingly after ~25 km of walking. I still had one more day ahead of me and much more to see.

Asia Jordan

Jerash, Jordan

The final day in Amman I spent mostly not in Amman. I had seen and done what I had wanted so I decided to visit Jerash, about an hour outside the city. Honestly, I was ok with skipping Jerash because, I figured, did I need to see more Roman ruins? Thankfully, I did not skip it; and the answer is, yes, I needed to see more Roman ruins.

I did not travel alone that day. The night before I met a guy who had newly checked in to my hotel and I spoke to him immediately out of a need to mock his t-shirt, which branded him as a recent law school grad. The next morning, I ran into him again and we went for breakfast at Hashem, which is probably the most famous restaurant in the city. It has been open since 1952 and has established itself as the best felafel joint in town. Its modest walls are adorned with pictures of the royalty, politicians, and celebrities who have eaten there. It’s fine. You have to eat there at some point (and there is no excuse not to, since it is open 24 hours) and I am glad I did, but I didn’t notice any difference in quality between the falafel and hummus there and every other place in Amman.

Anyway, my new law school graduate friend, let’s call him Bob, was happy to join me on my trip to Jerash. We hired a driver and proceeded inch through the traffic getting out of Amman. Eventually we got to Jerash. Wow. Probably the best Roman ruins I have seen since…Ephesus.

The area of Jerash has been inhabited by humans since about 7500 BC, but the city of Jerash and the ruins remaining today are Roman.

It’s pretty amazing. Structures, a theatre, temples, streets lined by columns, and amazingly preserved and huge gates, amongst other tidbits. We spent over two hours there and it did not seem too long. It was nice to have a buddy for the day and Bob is the reason that I have some pictures of myself from Jerash that are not selfies.

Back in Amman, Bob and I went for a meal and some shisha and just hung out until it was time for him to leave and time for me to prepare for the airport.

Jordan was fabulous. So full of amazing sights, and so easy to travel. The people were great, the transportation and planning were easy, and the experiences felt very special. I was glad I finally got there, after 25 years or so of wanting to go. I am not likely to return, but the memories are not likely to fade any time soon, particularly that day in Petra. Who knew pandemic travel could be so great?

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.