Day 1: Manchester, London, Amman

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I'm sitting here in Marrakesh starting my journal for a trip to Jordan. Why Marrakesh? Well, I only have six days between trips - not a record as I was back at Manchester Airport for a weekend trip to the Isle of Man some four days after returning from New Zealand!

I've passed through passport control, been scanned and am now enjoying a cup of coffee inside the air-conditioned terminal building of Menara Airport, Marrakesh. My transport, rather unusually, arrived half an hour early to take me to the airport, initially along busy roads and then, through less and less traffic. Evidence of last night's rain filled the gutters and even the larger vehicles made a detour to avoid getting wet.

After a few days in Marrakesh, I'm none the wiser regarding rules of the road as even at junctions vehicles just seem to pull straight out. I guess that it's only the restrictive speed limit that reduces the number of accidents. Maybe, it's because of the accidents that there's a reduced speed limit!

Well - going back to Blighty to wash my clothes and repack. Back in a few days ...

The in-between-y Bits

Move forwards a few days. Move forwards a thousand miles or so. Move forwards into a better knowledge of what this trip expects to bring!

It'd been an interesting few days in the office what with finishing an old contract and preparing to work on a new one. Coupled with the fact that I had a day in bed due to lurgy or some other bug, the week has been one of excitement and busyness.

Get on with it ...

I finally got around to packing my rucksack at 22h00 last night, something I don't usually leave that late! Mind you, this was an exception as it hadn't really been unpacked from my trip to Marrakesh!

I left home at a sensible hour this morning - 08h30 - and headed up the M6 to Manchester Airport in the glorious spring sunshine. As I was pulling into the car park, I was flagged down by a young lady whose husband could be seen bending over the the engine of their broken down car. Pulling up directly in front of them, I pulled out my set of jump leads and connected their car to mine. Sadly, my little Mini (petrol) didn't have a powerful enough battery to get their Ford (Diesel) to start. Although they had just returned from the US, they had a further 3 hours of travel with a tiny baby. Shortly after, they did find a Diesel 4x4 to help them out.

It's only a short trip to T3 from the car park and from there, a short trip down to London on one of the smaller planes in the BMI fleet. I guess there were no more than 20 of us on the flight although in such a small plane, that seemed a lot! It was full!

Plenty of time to check-in for the flight to Jordan and, finding myself in a queue of 10 or so old folk called Jean and Charles, I was relieved to find that they were travelling to Jordan with a different Adventure Company. Someone must have liked me, because I was pulled out of the queue and whisked to the Crown Class desk and checked in ahead of this group. I notice that I'm in Row 9 - I wonder whether I'll get the china crockery!!!!

Finding somewhere to sit looked as though it would prove to be a bit of a nightmare. There were lots of intercontinental flights on the board, each with 500 passengers and so there were easily several thousand people fighting for the few seats. I decided to grab a coffee and a pannini (toasted sandwich!) and sit in a coffee bar and managed to make the coffee last several hours!

Finally the flight was called and a little wave of Jordanian businessmen, tourists and assorted others made their way to the end of the pier where our plane was waiting. Boarding was uneventful and there was ample leg space. We were offered a hot cloth, followed by a rather pleasant meal of mixed salad followed by very tender beef and rice, bread roll, fruit something or other, cheese and biscuits washed down with water, dry Jordanian red wine and black tea.

In which time becomes unknown ...

Some four hours later, we crossed the Israeli coast just north of Tel Aviv and eventually landed in Amman at 23h30. Or was it 00h30? The pilot bade us Good morning but the clocks said 23h30. I'm aware that Summer Time in Jordan starts on the last Thursday in March, so I was convinced it was actually 00h30. However, the clocks in the terminal building didn't agree.

Leaving the plane, I was immediately met by our rep; he would arrange our (free) visa. Two other couples joined us and we five passed through the Crew and Staff only gate and had our passports taken away for stamping. The others retrieved their suitcases (yes - suitcases) very quickly, whilst my rucksack was almost the last bag off the plane.

We went into the cold Amman early morning and boarded our coach to the hotel. The streets were deserted although I did notice black cars parked in the middle of the road in pairs with their warning lights. I can only presume they are the local LEOs. Interestingly too, were the road signs to Iraqi Border and Saudi Border!

Well - it's now 02h30. I'm safely ensconced in the hotel for the first night. The alarm's set for 07h30 as I would like to sample local breakfast before we all meet in the reception at 09h00. Other's seem to have opted for an 08h00 wake-up call - I'm not convinced that's early enough to have breakfast before we meet.

Signing off …

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Photos

Amman
View from the hotel

Our Hotel
Just beyond the city centre but close enough to walk to the mall for a meal

Hotel Interior
By Jordanian standards, this is a very pleasant hotel