The Wadi Rum Desert in Jordan is Amazing

We walk across a massive stone "bridge"

Getting to Jordan from Egypt, of course, is not straightforward. It goes something like this: bus from Dahab to Taba, exit through Egyptian customs, enter through Israeli customs, ending up in Eliat. Taxi to the Jordan border. Exit Iraeli customs, enter throgh Jordan customs, surfacing in the town of Aqaba. Taxi to a restaurant. Taxi to Wadi Rum. Jeep to the campsite in Wadi Rum, a desert in Jordan.

It’s never easy, but always worth it.

But before I rehash my most recent saga, I need to backtrack to the morning I staggared into my hostel dorm room in Dahab at 9am, exhausted after an overnight bus ride.

Marseille and I sit around a fire stove to keep warm

“Hello!” Said a friendly voice.

“Hey,” I replied, glad to see a white girl. We exchange the usual pleasantries: Where are you from? (Ohio) Travelling alone? (Yes) Having a hard time in the Middle East? (Definitely.) Where you been, where you going, etc. etc.

Her name is Marseille (pronounced “Mar-say”) and she says she’ll be lounging around the pool if I want to join her after my nap.

I do. We hang out the whole time in Dahab and since we both were planning on Israel and Jordan, decide to tackle the madness together. Hooray, I have a travel companion! And if that wasn’t lucky enough, she books a trip to join me in India!

Bedouins in the desert

Back to now. I am in a large tent in the Wadi Rum desert in Jordan, typing on my precious netbook, listening to modern jazz in my headphones, with a candle flickering next to me, about to wane any moment now. Marseille is in the same tent in another bed, and I am grateful for the company, especially after another marathon travel day of trying to avoid getting ripped off. The stars outside my tent are so vivid; untainted by city lights, they are a lightshow that is hard to describe and certainly cannot be caputured by a camera. The moon is a yellow sliver by the horizon. Everything has a coat of sand over it, including my bed. I just ate a delicious Sudanese dinner and sat around a fire with some new friends, trading travel stories and sipping sage and mint tea. The people I meet are always interesting: tonight there were two hippies from Amsterdam, a white Amerian who became muslim in his 30′s, and a 25 year old psychiatrist from France taking a break from his residency. I love people and meeting them- it’s easily my favorite part of travelling alone. I realize how much my experiences here are dependent on the people I meet.

The view from the top of a sand dune

Elephant rock...I'm still trying to see the elephant

Camels run wild

The next day we tour Wadi Rum with Julian, the psychiatrist from France. His hair and disposition remind me of a thinner version of Hurley from Lost. We jostle around in the beat up jeep and marvel at the terrain. We climb massive sand dunes (a far cry from playing in the sand dunes at K&E as a child!) and going up in the soft sand is tougher than I anticipate, but flying down is a lot of fun. The desert is stunning- the rock formations are massive and unique, and the reddish sand is a stark contrast to the voilently blue sky. And there are wild camels running around.

Scoping it out

It’s another fabulous day.

Afterward, Marseille, Julian and I take a taxi to the next town, Petra, home of one of the 7 wonders of the world. We find a hostel, indulge in some delicious Middle Eastern food, and Julian plays Marseille and I some beautiful gypsy music on his guitar before we go to bed for the night.

I am grateful for new friends.