Jordan: The Devil is in the Detail

We were flying with Turkish airlines, a very far cry from no frills Ryanair. Ear phones, masks, hand sanitizer all supplied as you enter the plane. A meal at each leg of the journey as we had one stop over in Istanbul before flying onto Jordan, I can vouch for the quality to 2 meals at least. The ground staff for Turkish airlines out of Greece were brilliant. The staff on the plane also brilliant but the ground staff in Istanbul were a group unto themselves. I imagined that at interview they were asked “do you like people?”  They answered “I hate them, I really cant stand the idea of people asking me questions or looking for assistance” and the boss man says “You're hired!”. They were truly awful. We were on a transfer flight that had one stop over of just 3 hours. We were flying from Athens, transferring in Istanbul for Amman. We had no baggage to collect, so along with other passengers we made our way to the flight gate. Istanbul is a vast and ultra modern airport and so it was some distance to find the correct gate. But having found the correct gate we stood outside the totally enclosed glass partition and tried to make eye contact with ground staff there just to confirm we were in the correct location. This was impossible as they were utterly trained in the art of blanking people. At their discretion, they decided to acknowledge our existence and quite suddenly we go from being ignored to being herded through the now opened glass door. Entering through a side door we were separated into two groups, men and old women to the left and young women to the right. I was glad to be an old woman as the young women, in total view of everyone in the hall were intimately search. The female guard checked every inch of the women’s bodies and not just with the security wand. Their bags were not just opened and looked into, as is the norm, but every item in their bags were emptied out onto the counter. When the search was complete the guard just shrugged her shoulders and flicked her wrist in a very dismissive way so as to indicate they could go. I don’t believe I was the only one who thought the entire process intimidating and  demeaning. There were numerous old bucks videoing the searches from their comfortable seats in the lounge area. I can only imagine they were looking to get video evidence of the outrage. I was glad to be getting on a flight and out of there and no plans to make a return visit. 

We had missed our first day in Jordan because of the delay in Greece but were secure in the knowledge that at least we would get 3 hours rest in our Amman hotel before being picked up for our 3-day guided tour of Jordan. Amman is a very modern yet intimidating airport. It took ages to get through security. But luckily we had bought the Jordan pass which included our visa and that cut some time off the process. Others were being asked if they wanted to purchase the pass there which did slow everything down.

A word on the JordanPass, its definitely worth getting at the time your applying for your visa. It gives you entry to almost all of the major tourist attractions so you will save in the long run. It makes airport passage easier and faster as pass holders go to a different Que.  We purchased the Jordan Wanderer package as we knew we would be only visiting Petra for 1 day. Here is the link if you are interested: https://www.jordanpass.jo/Contents/Prices.aspx

Amman airport is quite intimidating as there is a very high number of armed police and armed soldiers everywhere. Inside the airport, outside the airport, on the streets, security is everywhere and that said it is a very safe country. Once I had gotten used to it, I realized that level of security added to our safety. We got through the airport security and made our way to baggage collection. We waited an age for all the bags to come through and as time passed I took comfort from the fact that I was not the only one waiting for bags. There were five people, myself included, left standing around the empty carousel when we were approached by a baggage handler and invited to follow him. We are now in a space where not everyone speaks English so I was relying on another passenger to translate what was happening. We were brought to the back of the room and when the door was opened we could see it was were the bags were dropped off. The passengers waiting with me were brought through, one at time, to a room adjacent to the baggage handling area. I had no clue what was going on. Luckily, I had seen my bag fall from the trailer and be thrown back up by one of the handler’s. Of those going into the room few were coming out happy that they had retrieved their bags. I decided my best course of action was to go loud and public. I held out my bag number and repeatedly pointed at the door through which I had seen my bag. I repeatedly said “My bag is in there, I saw my bag, it's in there”. Dame Judy would have been proud of my performance. One of the baggage handlers with a little English asked me to return to the carousel as they were just loading them. I did my best to insist that I could carry the bag from their location if he would just go through and get it. I eventually gave in and returned to the carousel some 20 meters, in a straight line from the door. There I stood to see my lone bag sliding its way down towards me, happy days. Roisin found a trolley and we loaded our bags onto it and proceeded outside. 

We had been expecting a shuttle bus from the hotel to be there to meet us as we had told them of our delay.  A taxi man came over to us but having been warned not to speak, look or show any signs of life to foreign taxi drivers, I told him we were “fine thank you” and marched on following the signs for the hotel shuttle buses. The taxi guy who had approached earlier came towards us again and again, I told him I was fine at which he told us the buses for the hotels came every 20 minutes and he would happily take our fare for a tenner. Ah, that old saying, pride comes before a fall came to mind some time late. We waited more than 20 minutes and a young man came to ask us which hotel we were going to. He rang the hotel and the bus was dispatched to pick us up. So up rolls this sharabang (ancient Irish term for a run-down bus) and regardless of how crap it looked I was glad to get out of the cold and so looking forward to a nice warm bed, even if it was just for a couple of hours. 

We arrived at the hotel to a very confused looking night clerk. I left Roisin to handle it as she had been in contact with them throughout and regularly updated them regarding our delay. A manager was called and things got a little heated. I understood from Roisin that we had booked for 2 nights, even though we would only have been checking in at 5 am the next morning. So that was money down the pan and no point in worrying over it. As far as I understood we still had a night booked in this hotel even though we were due to be picked up at 8 am which was in 3 hours. Best outcome was that we would at least be able to freshen up and perhaps get some breakfast. As the manager started to ask Roisin for more money I decided to intervene. It had been a really long day and an equally long night and no one has ever accused me of having patience. I march up to the counter and using all the power pose I can harness I say “Excuse me, am I to understand that you are looking for more money before allowing us access to the room we have already paid for? If you accept that we have paid for a room and were due to access that room sometime yesterday, well it follows that the room should still be ours until at least 12 o’clock today!” “Yes" he said “but that’s the problem when you did not arrive yesterday and had only paid a deposit. We cancelled the rest of your booking”. If I wasn't so tired from traveling throughout the whole night, I would have thrown barrels at the hotel manager. Instead, I quietly apologized for my misunderstanding and stormed away without giving them a second look...until they offered to call the bus back to drop us to the airport as I clearly had nowhere else I could go.

The bus driver returned to the hotel to pick us up. He wasn’t too pleased as he knew from experience that we were crap tippers. We are not usually crappy tippers but having just arrived we hadn’t a dinar on us, ergo we couldn’t give him a tip on the way down so he figured (rightly) he wasn’t getting one on the way back.  Oh! but he made us pay for that as he dumped us at departures which drew a lot of attention as we made no effort to go through to departures. We just sat there trying to look less like vagrants. Roisin started drifting off and I kept waking her up as I had the distinct impression that this was not a location where rough sleepers would be tolerated. As we had no alternative Roisin contacted the tour operator hoping he would pick us up from the airport at 8 am rather than the hotel as previously arranged. I figured we would most likely not hear from them until closer to the pickup hour. We settled in and tried not to draw attention to ourselves. 

It was now 5.30 am and the call to prayer rang out across the city. The sun was coming up and we got our first view of Amman and it was beautiful. The contrast with home was striking. The morning mist started to lift and we looked upon a landscape of palm trees and desert. This was the first time I had seen, on this adventure, a landscape so different to my home and it was beautiful. The call to prayer had started and although I had no idea what the words being sang meant, it was a beautiful sound that could not be ignored. Many people stopped what they were doing and took out their pray mats to answer the call.  

Audio: Recording of the Call to Prayer when I visited Jordan

The tour started that morning and having had no sleep in the previous 20 hours we just had to put on a smile and go with it. 

1st stop: Jerash