sand, snow, salt

I knew it would be an adventure to go to Jordan with Ireland.

Last night I met up with Ireland in Dubai. We had to fly out to Petra at 8 am, so we swore we would just go out to dinner and then go to bed early (we were crashing at a friend's place). 11:30 rolled around, and we were still at this restaurant/bar called Barasti. I knew, in the cab home, that in 5 hours I would not be having a pleasant time.

Woke up with a hangover, got on the flight, and 4 hours later we landed in Jordan. Luckily Ireland changed some money when we arrived so that we could buy visas. I kept telling her she was wasting her time as there was sure to be an ATM after we got through customs. There wasn't. Then we had to faff around with the rental car guys for over an hour to get our car (which is a nice car, a Peugeot, that's manual, hooray! we call it the grey ghost). The idiots did not fill the car with gas, so as we left the airport the tank was on empty. The one thing they did do was give us a GPS. And they warned us that the road to Petra might be closed. I was like "Why?" and the guy said "Much snow". Ireland and I looked at each other. He said "You are not the only white visitors we are happy to see".

"No probs on the gas", I said to Ireland. "We'll just stop at the first petrol station." That was a bit further from the airport than I thought it would be. I was actually getting worried. The station had one pump and only took cash. If Ireland hadn't changed money we would be sitting on the side of the Dead Sea Highway with a car that didn't run. Though, it took us a while to explain that we wanted gas for the car. You'd think the guys at that station had never seen tourists. The whole time he was filling the tank we were getting hammered with rain. I was like this could be an eventful road trip.

As we made it 50K from Petra, with rain, and some fog, but no snow, we started joking around that the guy was wrong about the snow. Then I took the turn off for Petra. Suddenly, we went from a multi-lane highway to a winding mountain road. We started seeing snow. I was like, hm, I hope this car is front wheel drive. We got to a stretch of the road where the snow was over a foot deep. Ireland and I were like "you have got to be f*king kidding!" I was wearing flip flops and a fleece. Ireland was wearing a thin sweater. I was worried the car would go off the road and we would have to push it out in our pathetic UAE appropriate clothes.

When it seemed things couldn't get any more sporty, fog set in. I literally could not see more than 5 feet in front of the car. The wind was blowing us around on the snow and I skated, more than drove, the road. I came around a bank of snow some guys had made clearing the road manually with shovels. Some idiots (Ireland called them muppets) had left their car in the middle of the road, without their lights on, and were taking pictures in the snow. The car was white. It's a miracle I didn't hit it. Ireland started to get aggro with the woman on our GPS, who kept advising us "Follow the direction of the road" as I was sliding around trying to keep the car on the road. Finally Ireland screamed "shut up you stupid tit!" to the GPS and then she ripped it off the windscreen. I was like "I will kill you if you throw the GPS out the window!" because it appeared she was about to do just that. The GPS did not get thrown out the window. We left it in the car tonight and it's probably frozen solid.

Eventually we made it to Petra and our hotel, which is fab. My room overlooks the ruins, but the wind is howling so loudly outside it seems like there's a hurricane about to blow everything away. Ireland got a room on the opposite wing and it's quieter, but without the view.

We thought to go down to the ruins but it there was torrential rain and the wind was blowing so hard that it hurt to stand in it. The guys at the hotel advised us to wait until tomorrow as Petra is a canyon and not the place to be when it's raining/windy. Instead we went into town and bought two absolutely hideous hats (we're calling them our Petra caps) and a fleece for Ireland who didn't bring a jacket (though she has 5 tank tops, because apparently she didn't believe the weather forecast that said it was 36 degrees F here). As we walked through the streets cars would honk at us. A guy approached us as we headed to the only ATM in Petra and he said "I love you! I am so glad you're here! Please stay with me because I love you!" Ireland said "It's nice to arrive somewhere and have an instant fan club".

We drove around for a bit more, but it was starting to snow/sleet so we went back to the hotel. Every time we got out of the car to take a picture the wind was so strong we could barely walk. We decided to get a facial. Weirdly, I think the woman at the spa thought we were a couple because she booked our facials at the same time, in the same room. That was a recipe for disaster. I laughed hysterically through my facial. Ireland kept saying "You aren't taking our couples therapy seriously!"

The woman and man doing the facials were trying not to laugh at us. At one point we both had this green sludge on our faces, and this Carpenter's song came on. I don't know what the name of it is, but it has a refrain that goes "sha la la la". Ireland sang the refrain very quietly and I could not stop laughing. They turned the music to a different track, which was a christmas song, and I laughed even harder. Then this woman was scrubbing my face with something and I said "Is that Dead Sea Salt?" and I don't know why, but that made Ireland and I laugh more. When she started massaging my face she did this thing where she was wiggling my nose, and at that point I went into hysterics and could not stop laughing for the rest of the facial, even after she slapped me hard on the shoulder and said "You! Need! To! Relax!" Ireland said she will never do a spa treatment with me again because I laughed too much. And, Ireland waited until we got to dinner to tell me I had green face mask all over the rim of my right nostril. Gross.

We had a great dinner, and I was propositioned by a bedouin, who told Ireland he would give her 20 camels and a trunk of gold for me. We teased him and then he said he would show us the gold. Ireland got excited, but I was like "I don't think I want to live in a tent". Then the bedouin said that he drinks two cups of camel milk every day because it improves his "virility" and that's how he has 3 wives. He wanted me to meet him tomorrow to drink camel milk. Also, he said that I am responsible for bringing the worst weather ever to Petra, but that he wants to keep me because I make it rain (could be true, they've had record rain fall in Abu Dhabi this year also).

I told him I couldn't go unless he promised I could have a glass of wine every night. Wrong thing to say. Turns out he makes wine. Ech.

If I'm never heard from again, assume either I've blown away in the canyon at the Petra site, or that Ireland has sold me to bedouins and is now the happy owner of 20 camels.

Tomorrow should be an exciting tour through Petra. I hope.