A Week in Jordan: Part One - ancient cities

Many of you thought I was a little bit crazy going to Jordan right now.  Particularly as it borders Syria - and is on the flight path for scud missiles heading there from US bases in the Mediterranean.  I must admit I was starting to get a wee bit nervous myself in the last couple of days of my trip - but only when I looked at news sites on my iPad.  Otherwise it would be hard to notice anything amiss in Jordan unless you are close to the Syrian border, where refugees continue to amass.

As it is, I have an excellent trip in a fascinating country and learn more about Christian history in a day than in five years at Catholic high school - but then, I am actually listening this time.

While the capital city Amman boasts being one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world, it has little else to recommend it:  yes, there's an impressive Roman amphitheatre - seen one seen them all - and Greek and Roman ruins on top the high point of Citadel hill, but that's it.  The most interesting thing about Amman is it used to be known as Philadelphia.

 leading from the oval forum - lined by 500 columns

It is one of the other cities of the Decapolis (ten cities on the eastern front of the Roman Empire) that is truly remarkable: Jerash.  

Jerash out-Romes Rome.  In 749 AD a massive earthquake wrecked large parts of the ancient city.  That, the odd war, further shakes and time buried the city beneath layers of soil and sand, and it wasn't until 1805 that it was rediscovered.  

There is a hippodrome, but no chariot races the day we were there, a huge oval forum, amphitheatre, temples, houses, shops.  Excavation has been more or less ongoing since the 1920s but vast areas remain covered.  What is fantastic about the site is the huge area it covers, and that so much of the original construction is present.  

An added bonus is the complete lack of tourists! As you can see from the photos, there is virtually no-one there.  If you have ever fought your way through the crowds in Rome, you know how amazing this is.

The oval forum at Jerash - note lack of crowds - photo Trevor Jones

The main reason for wanting to go to Jordan  for me anyway, is Petra, also known as the Rose City, after the colour of the stone from which it is carved.  

A sneak peek as you approach the end of the Siq

The Treasury is the first building you see as you emerge from the 1.2 kilometre walk down the narrow canyon known as the Siq.  Some of you may recognise it from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, however I assure you it has a much more illustrious history.

Al Khazneh - The Treasury at Petra

The building was constructed as a mausoleum and crypt in the 1st Century AD, and is carved out of the sandstone rock, as are all of the buildings (crypts) in Petra.  There are no introduced materials - everything is carved from the soft, beautifully coloured walls of the canyon.

Sandstone detail - photo Sam Matthews

Petra was built by the Nabateans who showed an advanced engineering skill by creating a series of dams, conduits and cisterns to ensure a water supply. Thought to date from 312BC, the modern world only learned of Petra's existence in 1812 when a Swiss explorer stumbled upon it. 

As you walk along from the treasury there are many tombs hewn into the rock walls - it must be said there are no longer any bodies or bones in these tombs. the valley opens out and you find an amphitheatre (of course you do!)  cut into the hillside. 

tombs cut into the hill -photo Sam Matthews

There are magnificent views to be had from the top of the canyon and two escalators transport you to their heights. As if!! 


One of the things I like about Petra is the lack of "development".  The steps and climb are what they are: there are tricky spots and some big drop-offs, but there are no guard rails, no signs warning you how 'dangerous' it is - common sense and personal responsibility rule.  What a refreshing change.

by the time I reach the High Place of Sacrifice
I feel I am the sacrifice

It is all hard slog and sweat (unless you pay for a donkey ride - which looks more likely to end in physical harm than the incipient heart attack brought on by over exertion in the heat): 900 steps up to the Monastery - 40 degree heat and basic lack of will mean I eschew this one.  

Next day I valiantly take the 600 steps to the (aptly named) High Place of Sacrifice - don't ask. If you'd been force marched up here you'd be grateful to lie down on the altar!  Actually, no one knows exactly what it was used for.

Highly recommend Petra, but go at a cooler time - August is just too hot.

So that's ancient sites - next Jordan installment is about more natural attractions: Dead Sea, the desert, and the Red Sea.  And one more on food.

Zanzibar: not what you think

Zanzibar: the very name conjures romantic notions of kings, sultans, princesses, exotic spices and dusky slaves.  However our first impressions are of poverty, a hand-to-mouth existence and general squalor.  The 45 minute drive from the airport to our beach side accommodation takes us through the dusty and very dilapidated outskirts of Stonetown - the main town - through crumbling, countryside villages, and past rickety roadside stalls lightly topped with a few tomatoes or other fruit.  The overall impression is more Honiara than Honolulu.  I remember one of NZ's provincial towns had a caption 'better than you think' - a damning phrase if ever there was one. Zanzibar's could be 'not what you think'. That's the problem with romantic notions and high expectations – they’re rarely met.

swaying palms and swimming pools at Uroa resort

Gradually, though, the charms of the place and people draw us in. Our first few days are at Uroa Beach Resort on the east coast, open to the Indian Ocean.  This turns out to be a lucky choice as there are only 2 other resorts further down the beach, as opposed to the north coast which is cluttered with large hotels full of Italian tour groups: there are about a dozen direct flights from Milan to Zanzibar every week.

The weather is very warm, but not uncomfortably so, and the coastal breeze is a pleasant accompaniment to afternoon cocktails. I am delighted when the barman produces a Margarita worthy of the hunter-gatherer's hand.

seaweed farming - who would've thought?

In the mornings we walk the beach, fend off the few hawkers, and watch women farming seaweed.  The sticks poking out of water at low tide are pegs to which the women string lines tied with small pieces of seaweed. They harvest after three weeks, dry the seaweed and then use it in food or other products.

 Back in Stonetown, a two hour walking tour with a nice young man called Dowji takes us through a maze of streets and alleyways and introduces us to the history of Stonetown.  FYI the name comes from the widespread use of coral stone for the buildings.  We would be lost on our own, and this is sometimes the case over the next few days.  However, turn enough corners and eventually you recognise something.  

Indian style carved wooden doors

Despite being a UNESCO World Heritage site since 2000, 80% of the beautiful old buildings are in need of maintenance and repair.  This is especially apparent on the waterfront where the major historical buildings line the harbour. It is tragic to see places such as the 1883 built House of Wonders - so known as it was the first building in Zanzibar to have electricity and the first working lift in East Africa! - crumbling away. 

As the foremost centre for slave trading in East Africa through the 1800s, the site of the slave auctions is particularly chilling.  Especially so when we go down into one of the cellar like rooms where slaves were kept for days on end, waiting for auction.  There is no way to stand upright, and dozens were packed into very small spaces.  Needless to say, no running water, no facilities at all - just concrete benches.

The second day in town is the last day of Ramadan, so after 30 days of fasting between sun up and sundown the locals are ready to party – in a non alcoholic Muslim kind of way. The difference in mood and activity from one day to the next as Ramadan ends is very marked. The celebration, Eid, is a bit like Christmas coming straight after Lent.  Everyone has new clothes, gives gifts and large family gatherings and feasts take place. 

One evening we find a really good rooftop restaurant at Emerson Spice Hotel. We start with cocktails (at about $6US they're too much of a bargain) and then enjoy a five course degustation dinner.  The courses are very small and have two or three different tastes in each, for example the pictured Prawns with Papaya Salad, Garlic Bamia (okra) and Braised Leek.

We just about have major heart attacks half way through drinks as a really loud alarm sounds across the city -  a tsunami warning? air raid?  But after the calls to prayer flow we reason it is marking sunset.

One day we once again take our lives in our hands by way of yet another clapped out minibus, and travel up to a spice plantation. Ahh, we think, this is more like the Zanzibar we expect.  

However it is not part of a great spice industry, it is a 'show farm' as plantations no longer exist and the only spice grown for export is cloves.  All the same it is interesting to see cinnamon, clove, vanilla, cardamom, ginger, turmeric, nutmeg, coffee, cocoa, along with fruits such as rambutan, durian and star fruit growing, though not all are in season - thank God in the case of durian. You'll know what I mean if you've ever smelled it.

nutmeg

Zanzibar is so poor it's hard to understand why agriculture doesn't take off - everything grows. The answer appears to lie in corruption; the rich don't pay tax and the tax that's collected goes into officials' pockets, not roads or schools or healthcare.  There's no encouragement, either financial or educational, to develop land and farm it, other than for the few vegetables some grow for themselves or for a small market.  Our young guide Dowji is so disillusioned he says he's never voting again, as politicians promises are all lies.  Welcome to our world Dowji!