We're Not In Kansas Anymore.

The interesting thing about Jordan (the country not the basketball player) is that its struggling to achieve a good 60%. I have not been here long, just a few hours but there are things that jump out at you in a five star hotel. The drawers were not cleaned out completely and there was some leftover junk that was overlooked (possibly for years). The matchboxes in the room are all empty, the elevators are tiny, there are armed police at the entrance, you need to have your luggage scanned and walk through a metal detector to get into the lobby. There are about twenty taxi drivers outside that accost you each time you step out. Oh, and the internet took ten minutes to wake up (but now its working quite well).

The drive to Amman from the border was enlightening. We arrived at the crossing at around 5pm and went through passport control. I stopped in at the James Richardson duty free store (yes there is one) and bought some single malt to pick up on the way back. You then take a seedy bus to the Jordanian side where some chap escorted us through the passport control and visa section (we got V.I.P. treatment). There was one guy working and our V.I.P. courier shamelessly pushed in and jumped the line with our documents. Every male here has a mustache. I have not seen any Jordanian women, but I heard there are some. After customs (they had a brand spanking new LCD TV blaring load with the worst quality signal I have seen since we used to watch Jordanian TV in the early 80s) we boarded our waiting taxi (V.I.P. taxis) and sped off into the night, off to Amman. You go through miles and miles of sad, small whitish houses and stores that border the road. It all looks very different to anything I have ever seen before. A lot like an Arab movie. Lots of young men sitting on chairs looking at the passing cars, some watching communal televisions (looked like there was a big soccer game on). Small stores with a few items sparsely shelved. We climbed and climbed, Amman is at 5000 feet, I was told. Eventually we got into the city. It looks like I imagined with a lot of Arabic signs and closely packed stores. There's McDonalds and KFC and even a Starbucks in the hotel. All of this was made weirder by the fact that I was traveling with two school headmasters, a business manager and Margret another board member. I never spent so much time with teachers in all the time I was at school.

We had a good supper. The Humus was excellent, as was the Halumi cheese and labaneh. Its now time for bed. I'm sharing a room. I have not shared a room with anyone but my wife for 20 or so years. I hope Neville does not snore. He seems tidy, though.