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After two days in Petra it was time to head to Wadi Rum - there were four of us in the group - two other Australians and an intrepid Japanese traveller who had hiked from Nepal. After a 6am start we arrived in the small village of Rum, a small cluster of flat roofed building nestled in a valley where camels and four-wheel drive vehicles are the only form of transport. There we met our host, Zedane, who boasted to us that he had 28 brothers and sisters and that when there is a family gathering for a meal that "three sheep is not enough!" We then headed out in our beaten four-wheel drive with our driver called Ali, whose driving prowess across the dunes was most impressive. We left Rum is a cloud of dusk, and caught a glimpse of a robed woman vainly trying to control an upset camel which was leaping and kicking its legs in all directions.

We hadn't travelled for long before I realised that Wadi Rum was the most beautiful place I had ever seen, even more beautiful than some of the famous sites in the Northern Territory, back in Australia. It is so difficult to describe the scenery, so I'll borrow the words of TE Lawrence in his book, The Seven Pillars of Wisdom. When entering Wadi Rum, he wrote: "Our little caravan grew self-conscious, and fell dead quiet, afraid and ashamed to flaunt its smallness in the presence of the stupendous hills." The varied colours and shapes of the mountains and sand were like nothing I have ever seen before.

We spent several hours traversing the desert, climbing mountains and sand dunes and commenting on yet another spectacular view as we entered another valley. We viewed ‘ancient’ rock drawings, and was fortunate to see a fresh bloom of white and yellow desert flowers, due to the same rains which poured on me in Petra several days earlier. The sand was still marked by the meandering passage of the now evaporated water. Covered in sand and coloured by the sun, we arrived in the Bedouin camp - a brown and white goat hair tent that would be our accommodation for the night.

Then it was time for the high point of the day - a camel ride. My beast was a sturdy looking male called Jerrah, and his handler was a softly spoken Bedouin called Salama. Together the three of us headed into the desert. For over two hours we wandered across the harsh earth where the only sound was the low grumbling of the camel and sound of a zephyr whisking past my ears. This was a most wonderful and peaceful experience. Many people find solace in natural environments, such as beaches or mountains, but for me, the desert evokes a most calming sensation, for it feels like home. By the time we arrived back in camp, the sun was fast falling towards the horizon and the colours of the mountains was turning to a deep shade of orange and red.

After returning, we all gathered in the tent and ate a sumptuous chicken, potato and onion meal that had been cooking in a ground oven for the last two hours. We sat around the fire, told stories and drank Bedouin tea. This reminded me of my other memorable Bedouin moment in Jordan. I had hired a car to travel around the desert castles west of Amman. Inlcuded in this was another place famed by TE Lawrence - the black basalt castle of Azraq, which he used as a military base. On my return I stopped at another castle and was greeted by a local Bedouin called Abdullah. He guided me around this desert castle for thirty minutes and then asked whether I could drop him home as it was on my route to my hotel in Madaba. This was no problem, as he was quite effusive and a bit different from most Bedouin - who are normally people of many thoughts and few words.

As we approached his home, Abdullah asked me (by using sign language and my Arabic phrase book) if I wanted to stay for dinner. Why not, what an experience! I was then led to his "dining room" - a moderate sized tent, which was full of his family all gawking at this westerner who decided to visit. A few neighbours arrived to see this interloper, and a couple of chickens wandered into the tent for good measure. As it was still Ramadan, we waited for the sun set and a small black and white flickering television was viewed in earnest for the prayer recitations to begin. Once they did, piles of different foods came out - which provided the best food I've eaten in Jordan.

After eating more than my share, the water pipe, filled with apple tobacco, was produced. Now, the fact that I don't like apples and don't smoke presented some problems, but not to smoke would be considered an offence, so I puffed away with some reservations, and kept the young children amused by blowing smoke out of my nose and in unusual shapes. Abdullah wanted me to stay for the night, but the thought of any more apple tobacco was too much, so I begged my leave.

Back in Wadi Rum, we were all fairly tired after a long day, so everyone retried to bed early. Before turning in, I walked into the desert until out of sight of the Bedouin tent and all civilisation. The silhouettes of the surrounding mountains punctured the sky, and I was enveloped by a canopy of a million stars. An occasional shooting star blinked for an instant before disappearing from sight. It was at this moment, when dwarfed by the incredible beauty of nature, that I was overwhelmed by a feeling of insignificance and isolation. I wonder if everyone who visits Wadi Rum feels experiences the same feeling?

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