AQABA
JORDAN
As promised the Captain brought
us into port with nary a scratch and on the stin departing for one of the three venues offered by the ship, Petra, the Rose Red Desert City; The Dead Sea Experience and Wadi Rum, a 4x4 drive across red sands, mountains, rock bridges and other geological formations of the desert valley.
The only tour that had our interest (more specifically, Ken's) was the one to Petra which promised a walk through a winding gorge that forms the dramtic entrance to the ancient trading city founded by Nabateans. It's archietectural marvels include the spectacular Treasury, towering temples, tombs, Roman theatre and homes caarved from the red-hued rock that gives the site its spectacular bequty.
Ken obsessed over the Petra
outing said to be spectacular and dramatic in beauty and architectural ruins. However, the bulletin warned of the need to
be physically fit, health wise and cognizant of individual limitations because
the tour involved lots of walking, steps and strenuous activity. For days, the subject had been bandied about between
us. I had no question but that the trip was a no go for me but Ken held out hope that he could make the gtrip.
Our friends, Bill and Diane were supportive of my concern as I tried to
discourage Ken’s urge to “have a go at it”.
I finally said, “I don’t want you to go. But you know your limitations
so you have to decide.” After consulting
with one of the guides, he was ready to go.
He went down to sign up for the tour and the guide there reviewed the
tour with him and he decided not to go.
On reflection and after hearing numerous comments from those who did go,
he now knows that he made the right decision.
Ken and I joined Bill and Diane
Herbert on a tour of the town that turned out to leave us feeling disappointed
in the city sights, the quality of our tour and the value of our choice but
alas, we are good sports. We chocked our day up to another experience. As our friend Bruce Haselman would say, “We
didn’t leave anything there that would be worth going back to retrieve”. Not even the Petra tour would be worth another
trip here for me but should Ken be successful in turning back the years on his
calendar, I would not dare speak for him!
He is hopeless!
Our one hour tour with a taxi
turned out to be little more than a car ride to a hill overlooking the city, a
stop at a mall for shopping and a ride down the street for a picture of a
camel. You might say, we were “had” but
then we helped the Jordanian and Aqaba economy in a small way so we met our
charitable giving for the day! Aqaba is the only seaside community in Jordan
and its claim to fame encompasses the seashore, tourism and the port.
After lunch aboard ship Ken
scurried out to explore the seashore with a premeditated interest in a Chinese
junk that he had viewed from the ship.
As he snapped picture close up, he was informed by a guard on board that
pictures were not allowed. In response to Ken’s inquiry about who owned the
boat, Ken was told it belonged to the King.
THE KING'S JUNK
Ken enjoyed his visit among the natives and found them friendly. He especially enjoyed the young children who wanted to have their pictures taken and seemed anxious to make him feel welcome. He reported that there was no pressure to hustle him in any way and his quick take on his visit with the natives was positive. As they say – been there done that.
Swimming in a Berka?
We are not alone
