15. Petra and a mountain desert

After having spend a night in Karak and having visited the not so impressive castle (once you have stepped where Lion Heart once roamed, there really is no castle that can surpass that) we arrive in Wadi Musa. This town will probably not ring a bell for most of you but when I say Petra there might be a couple of ooooo’s and aaaaa’s going on. Yes, yes, Kosta and I have arrived at the highlight of Jordan.

The call of nature

And indeed, the sandstone city of Petra is fantastic, beautiful and definitely a must seen on any itinerary across Jordan. You enter via ‘the Siq’, a rock landmass that has been separated by tectonic forces. Compare it to a long hallway in a canyon . Once you have walked the 1.2 kilometres you arrive at the most famous site, the Treasury.

But all the sites are not as easy to get to. We, my friends, have not only suffered from the heat, but also from two climbs on rock-cut staircases to reach the Monastery and afterwards to reach the High Place of Sacrifice. Never in my life have I felt so knackered (I probably have but one tends to forget the less pleasant parts of a trip LOL). Loads of people go to the Monastery by donkey or horse, but not us, we are the hard ones. And you think climbing is the hardest part, but as we all know, going down is the part that makes us feel we’re getting old as the knees are feeling every single step you take. And although the thought of a donkey, camel of horse to bring you to the exit is very tempting proud stands in the way of that luxury. I tell ya’, by the time we are out of Petra I can only think of The Cruiser and the matress that awaits me. Thank goodness we got a ride from a guy looking for his hotel. Praise whoever I need to praise ‘cos his hotel is near ours and so we don’t have to walk another 30 minutes uphill. As a general advice: you might be too proud to sit your painful body down on a donkey, but never ever be to proud to ask for a ride! (or to be honest, never be too proud to sit your ass down on an animal that can release you from suffering any longer LOL).

Just to have an idea how big it is, enlarge the picture and you might notice Kosta LOL

Always put on sun cream! LOL

Our real last stop in Jordan is Wadi Rum, a mountain desert as they call it. We don’t sleep in the ‘free access area’, the meaning of ‘free’ being a bit stretched here, no, Kosta and I look for a place to sleep in the ‘wilderness area’, aka the real free area. And we might not see the rock formations all tourist pay for, or the Seven Pillars of Wisdom (oh wait, we did spotted those from the visitor centre) or this and that sunset/sunrise point, but we have all the mountain desert experience we want to have. The 4x4 brings us to a nice spot with no other tourist (we left our first spot where the dead camel was decomposing), only a goat herder and his animals to be seen from 500 meters away, a nice sunset to end the day and the most quite night you can imagine. Not a sound to be heard. You would almost forget that those places still exist on this busy earth.

14. Water day

Entering the kingdom of Jordan, we skip the capital Amman and go straight to Madaba, a town known for its mosaics. As we arrive quite late in the afternoon we just quickly go to the visitors centre for some info and do some grocery shopping. Then it is time to search for a sleeping spot. Am I glad we are going to stay somewhere in nature instead of at a campground. You might find this weird as of course nature does not provide you the ‘nice bathroom’…. but to be honest nor do most campgrounds or hostels. And to be honest, the best rooms with a view are the one of the cruiser.

A room with a view

Drinking tea with a shepherd on the mountain.

After a day of visiting Madaba, we head off for the dead sea, with minus 400 meters the lowest point on earth not covered by water. It is September now and boiling hot, imagine what it would be during full summer! Due to evaporation it has an astonishing salinity of 31%, nine times higher than the oceans. The dead sea is by the way not a sea but a terminal lake into which the Jordan river and other watersheds deposit their flow. And I have to tell you, ‘swimming’ in the dead sea is such a funny experience! We sure had a good laugh! It is a weird feeling to have to try and stand up. The first time I enter I try to stand up but before my feet touch the ground my legs automatically move backwards and I am floating on my belly. The skin becomes very soft, it actually feels like there is a layer of I don’t know what on it. And I have tasted the water, trust me, it is disgusting! LOL It’s a shame the ‘beach’ is so dirty… but as we’ve seen in most of the Middle East, bins are hard to use… Anyway, we really can not stay longer than an hour in the water as the sun is burning our skins. So we go back the car, try to rinse ourselves as good as possible with the water we have left and head of for the Wadi Mujib, also known as the ‘Grand Canyon of Jordan’.

No tricks, no touching the ground, just floating :)

In the nature reserve you can hike a trail without guide. The Siq trail is a ‘water path’ in the canyon. If you expect only to be a bit wet of sweating, you are in for a surprise! During 2 km you hike in the canyon with your feet fully under water, then your knees, and then you when you slide of the rocks on your way back. On the way to the waterfall you climb some rocks a couple of times using a rope (and a guy that pushes you up LOL). And what comes up most come down. By the time you arrive at the waterfall you are completely soaked anyway. And there is quite a bit of a current. The amount of sunglasses, cameras and other valuables lost in there most make it possible to open a nice little shop. :)

Still dry :)

The easy way back

13. Palmyra, Damascus and exit Syria

Our third stop in Syria is Palmyra and its fantastic ruins. Palmyra itself is a tourist town, without any tourists. Loads of shops are closed, even hotels have no reason to open their doors. While we walk around, we are without doubt an attraction. And you know how annoying it is to walk into those tourist towns. I mean you understand that you are not the only one around as not only you want to see this or that monument, but you just don’t enjoy all the other tourists that pull in with busses. But trust me, walking in a tourist town without any actual tourists is even worse. It gives you a strange feeling, especially when all of a sudden the guy from the grocery store looks stressed and starts to bring in his goods, which are normally presented outside the entrance. As if they are expecting anything to happen at any moment. Maybe it had to do with a group of young guys on their motorbikes earlier, maybe it was something else. We will never know as we did not linger to find out. We go a bit out of the centre to camp at a hotel straight at the ruins.

Find the tourist

The next day, after having passed 5 checkpoints, all greeting us with a smile and welcoming us to Syria, we arrive in the capital. In Damascus we just stroll around a bit and really don’t visit a lot apart from the Umayyad mosque, for Muslims one of the most holiest in the world, and the Mausoleum of Saladin. But more important: we have eaten an ice-cream at the famous ice-shop Bakdash. And I have to tell you, that my friends was soooooo good! The ice-creams are made with sahlab, a tapioca-root flavoured drink. The topping consists of pistachio nuts.  I have never seen such a popular ice-cream place. There must have been about 50 people inside. Bakdash is situated in the souq al-Hamidiyya. A souq is a bit like our shopping mall, so to speak, but then without air-conditioning.  And you do not believe your eyes when you see the clothes they sell there. I mean really, they all might be wearing a headscarve, a burka or even a chador but what they wear out home is definitely with cleavage! LOL

And then it is time to leave Syria. The fee you pay for a diesel is valid for a week, and that is all we want to stay here anyway. We might be paying a fee but that doesn’t make it any more simple to get diesel unless you put a bit of extra on the table. 

When we leave the country I am asked about our stay here. I tell the guy at the border we had no problems in Syria. He asks me ‘to tell my country’ that it is safe here and that it is not like they show on TV. No, it is only a few men making problems, he says, not the army, not the government and not the president.  The people here all say the same: those ‘fights’ here and there are fought because of terrorists in the country, not because of the president. And I have to say, for a country that is having a bit of a revolution I have not seen any riots, I have not heard anyone speak against the president, I have not even seen one picture of him damaged or destroyed. Or the president and his army are all very much in control, or what we hear on the news is all a bit exaggerated.

Riots or not. Kosta and I feel better with leaving the country after 5 days already. We have seen its highlights and to be honest, apart from those gorgeous highlights, the country is far from being one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. It is dry, it is dusty and it is beige everywhere. LOL It was interesting to travel through a country where tourist busses should be pulling in, but what you got instead was empty monuments, empty hotels and empty restaurants.

12. Passport controls

After our afternoon in Aleppo, we are heading towards Crac des Chevaliers. Hamas and the dead Cities we leave for what they are. It would have been nice to visit them but for the moment it is better just to skip those parts.

It will take us about three hours to get to Crac Des Chevaliers, a highlight of Syria. As we will almost be all the time on the highway, we should not have a lot of passport controls. So far we must have been checked about 3 times, each time we were back on the road after a couple of minutes. This morning however the story is a bit longer… Five minutes into our driving trip we miss the street that leads to the highway. Kosta slows down and makes a u-turn… 50 meter away from a checkpoint and in full view of a bunch of soldiers. Yes, that might seem a bit suspicious and so yes, we are asked to pull over. The guys don’t look very official but they are. It really doesn’t give you a feeling of security when you are  pulled over and have to give your passports to somebody that wears a gun but looks like he could be doing it just to rip people of. But there are no options here, you play their game.

The car is checked and of course so are the passports. I think there were about 6 guys in total. The leader calls in on his radio to whomever that may be. After ten minutes he’s called back. We have to say our names (I guess they’re having problems with the different alphabet), you hear the guy saying where we’re from  and then  it’s all waiting time again.In the meantime one of the guys has already welcomed me to Syria, so that kind of gives me the idea we’ll be cleared, but as it is taking a really long time, I do start to hesitate a bit. Kosta is trying to explain them with the map in his hands that we have slept in Aleppo and that we are on our way to the highway direction Damascus. We give them the card of the campground, Kosta explains again… All of this is happening in a quite relaxed atmosphere. We do not feel threatened or anything like that. The thing is, you just don’t understand what they’re saying and what the problem might be. About half an hour later we are able to go. Is it to help us find the highway, or is it to be sure we are heading towards Damascus, we will never know, but we are escorted by a guy on his motorbike until we arrive at the highway. Am I glad that is done! For obvious reasons I have no pictures of this.

After three hours we arrive at our destination for the day, Crac des Chevaliers, a lovely castle were once the Crusaders had a home. Can you imagine, I am literally  walking in Lion Heart’s footsteps!

11. The search for diesel!

Crossing the border from Turkey to Syria went smoother than we thought. Unfortunately the money also ‘went’ smoother than we thought: $165 to bring the car in… auch!

Cans opened the old fashion way

For obvious reasons Syria is not the hot tourist destination at the moment, and so we find ourselves at the border with only Turks, Iranians and Syrians.  Good thing we don’t have to wait in line to get the passports stamped. Within 15 minutes that first part is all done. In that quarter of an hour I have not only waited and filled in a paper, I’ve had time to see how some Turks cross the border: with a bribe between the passport. 200 Syrian pound and the ‘no’ becomes a ‘welcome’.

One hand on the truck, the other one on the tea

After having all the papers sorted out for the car we can start making our way to the first petrol station. You see, the $165 not only includes a compulsory car insurance, it is also a diesel tax. Diesel is super cheap here and subsidised by the government. As this is obviously only for their own people, foreigners pay extra when entering the country as they will also fill up their tanks with that same diesel. Which brings me to my next point: filling up the tank.

The Cruiser’s tank is obviously not full when we arrive in Syria. We of course  thought that we would cross the border and fill up in one of the many petrol stations we are sure of this country is possessing. I mean really, in Turkey there are so many of them you can only wonder how they all have enough business to survive.  But my friends, it is Friday (their Sunday) and the diesel is finished for today. Normally the petrol stations gets a truck full of diesel every day, but of course on Friday even the delivery man rests.  I can’t even remember in how may petrol stations we have asked for fuel, but the answer was always the same: tomorrow.  So with an orange light screaming for liquid we are luckily still able to make it to a campground. We won’t be doing any ‘bush camping’ in a country that surely is not an example for stability at the moment…

And oh yeah, the guy in the little shop here immediately tried to raise the price for two drinks. 50 he shows me on his calculator. I look at him, say that that is more expensive and type in 40 (as Kosta paid at the border). It might still be a bit too much, as we have no idea of prices yet, but I don’t care. The only thing I can think is ‘Oh boy, here we go again…’

Next morning we rise and shine, ready to go and get some diesel on our way to the centre of Aleppo. And if you would think that in a country like Syria it really can’t be that hard to get diesel, think again! Remember those  holidays where you and the kids were on your way to that nice cottage in Switzerland and you were driving through Luxemburg?  You thought it would be a great idea to quickly fill up the tank at a more economical price in that little country. You saw the line in front of you and you thought “Shit, we are going to have to wait an hour”. Yes, remember that moment… and imagine it 10 times worse! LOL It is about 9 am and the diesel hasn’t even been delivered yet! Cars and trucks are already waiting. So we drive around for a while but it’s the same situation everywhere: no diesel. By then we have already done almost 800 km since we last filled up the car. We are running super super low on diesel. And this makes us do something we would normally never do: we drive to the next petrol station, pass about 1 kilometre of people, at some parts waiting in double lines, and pull into the petrol station skipping them all.

Waiting, waiting and waiting

As you can imagine some people are not very pleased with this. But then you have the advantage of being foreigners with an interesting car… and really to be honest, being the only foreigners around.  While others complain to each other and to whomever is in charge, others arrange for you to be the first one in line.  After standing there for about half an hour, it is 12 o’clock and the diesel truck arrives! “Full, please.” Our 90 litre tank is filled up to 91,20. We were really driving on our last drops of diesel! 20 euro for a full tank and 5 euro bribe for the petrol man . Now we can finally start our ‘tourist afternoon’ in Aleppo!

10. Goodbye peaceful Turkey, we are off to Syria!

We have cruised in the mountains and on the highways of Turkey to arrive at the border with Syria. Time to say goodbye to a great country.

 

Both Kosta and I love it. People are friendly, the general atmosphere is just great, water is provided for free along the side of the roads.  It is the country of water heating solar systems on the roof and thousands of little supermarkets. A place were 2 street lanes are used as 3, where the emergency lane is used as the slow lane. A country with numerous petrol stations, where you can get your car washed for free. Most of all, a country that has given us a thousand smiles. The only thing I find a shame is the rubbish. And the Turks don’t have any excuse for that. You see bins everywhere! They are ruining superb places to enjoy your day because they are too lazy to pick up the trash and throw it in the bin 10 meters further.  And oh yes, like in all countries we’ve crossed so far the price of diesel has not made us smile once. 

A couple of snapshots of great moments in Turkey:

On the cemetery of Konya… life and death as close as they can be

A landing spot for helicopters on the campground near Istanbul

9. Trust me babe, I know what I’m doing

And so we start are journey down toward Syria. It should be an easy ride, a bit in the mountains, a bit highway, no worries at all. We have left the campground only at about noon, as we have more than enough time. Nice not to have to rush down, but just take the time for a check on the internet, last little hand wash, time to say goodbye to other travellers, all nice and relaxed.


On our second day of driving we have already done quite a bit of the way, so we make a tiny little detour toward a lake nearby. By the looks of the area here, it wouldn’t be easy to find a sleeping spot. A lake however is often a place of opportunity. When we arrive there the lake is probably only half of what it is during the winter. Pretty nice though to sleep at and even to drive on the part that in a couple of months will be covered with water again.

Here and there you can see big stones, here and there you can miss them. You won’t see them but you do feel them when the car is declining way more to the left than you would like it to be. And so here goes a conversation in a car hanging towards the left side: “Hmmm, what’s that?” “Just a big stone I didn’t see.” Driving a bit further, the driver (in this case a male) is still looking to his right instead of to the bigger stones ahead. So the passenger says: “Watch out, babe.” Response: “Trust me babe, I know what I’m doing, I really know what I’m doing.” The passenger, in this case a female, has no comment.

As we drive a bit further ‘in the lake’ we spot trees. Good. It is just a bit further up to the right where the lake is not super dry and... where the car gets stuck in the mud. This time the passenger has a huge smile on her face and a comment: “Trust me babe, I know what I’m doing, I really know what I’m doing.” LOL! There is no going forwards, no going backwards.

Time to pull out our little spade. We also need stones to put on top of the mud, to build a little path so to speak. More than enough of that here! And so there I am wearing my ‘I love London’ t-shirt (I am after all a city girl), collecting stones in a dried out lake while Kosta is on all fours trying to dig the car out.

The guide to getting a car out of the mud:

Step 1: take your little spade and start digging


Step 2: put stones on top of the mud


Step 3: try to drive the car out of the mud


Step 4: take the extra weight out of the car



Step 5: repeat step 1 but this time just use your hands


Step 6: repeat step 2 but make a longer stretch of rocks (nicely collected by your assistant, still having a huge smile on her face)


Step 7: repeat step 3 and succeed!