Jordan

My way of travelling is simple: I book the flight, the car if I need one and the first night, and the rest we’ll see. In Jordan I found its limits the moment I landed. October 2021, Francesco Lietti and I arrive in Amman at night, and at passport control they ask me where I’ll be staying. I couldn’t remember. In my stories I wrote that they don’t take kindly to people who don’t know where they’re sleeping; true, but stories exaggerate everything a bit.

Seven days, an SUV and 1,650 km: first down to Aqaba, then up to the Syrian border.

Amman and the road south

Amman is huge, and its flag is even bigger. The first day: stairways, the view over the city, the Citadel with the columns of the Temple of Hercules, a lunch of mansaf, kebab, falafel and flatbread, and a shisha in the evening. Then the road south. Ma’an is listed in the travel advisories as an area requiring particular caution; I took a photo of the “I love Maan” sign on the roundabout and we carried on.

In Aqaba I swam in the Red Sea in October, with corals and a sunken boat thrown in. From above the city you can see Egypt, Israel and Saudi Arabia all at once: four countries in one photo. Out in the desert, along the road, we ended up in the middle of a historical re-enactment, with riders, camels and sandbag trenches, which I told in my stories in three parts: before, after, captured. In the evening, a dinner with a table full of skewers for 10 euros each.

Wadi Rum, better than Petra

Wadi Rum is the place I liked most. Red sand, sandstone cliffs, dromedaries, an old sand-coloured 4x4 and a night in the desert under a sky full of stars. We came back on the Saturday, covered in dust, and went into Petra the same day.

I know it’s an unpopular opinion: I found Petra a bit boring. The Siq is beautiful, so is the Treasury, but we got there at midday, in the worst light, and the famous shot from above required too much energy.

The Dead Sea and the north

In the Dead Sea you really do float. There’s only one rule: don’t put your head under. I speak from experience, it’s horrible.

Then Jerash, with its oval plaza, colonnades and Roman arches, and the north, which turned into the chapter about borders. The road to the Syrian border crossing at Ramtha, side tracks blocked off, watchtowers, a viewpoint from which, according to Google Maps, you could see a demilitarised zone, barbed wire with a military zone sign. We didn’t go there on purpose: we were just passing nearby. In my stories I wrote “we’re still alive”, followed by “…for now”, which gives you the tone.

On the last morning, a coffee in Amman. The final tally said 1,650 km, 7 days and 7 borders “touched”, counted rather generously. The same day we were off again to Cyprus.

Practical notes

• If you have to choose where to spend more time, choose Wadi Rum, and sleep there.
• Don’t go to Petra at midday: taking photos at that hour is a terrible idea.
• In the Dead Sea, don’t put your head under the water.
• Keep the address of your first hotel handy: they ask for it at passport control.