Amra has a more dramatic setting than Qasr Al-Azraq.
As we arrived early, we were given the key to the castle to let ourselves in (we can’t quite believe we were given the keys to a World Heritage Site!).
We particularly liked the bear playing the banjo in the bathhouse,
although art critics might prefer the frescoes in the main room. SPOT
Next en-route was Qasr Kharana, an imposing structure that, despite its looks, didn’t perform a military function, but was probably a khan (or coaching inn). SPOT
The bathhouse of Hammam as-Sarah was in the process of being restored and surrounded by mud due to yesterday’s rain, so we just had a quick look before heading onto nearby Qasr al-Hallabat.
We weren’t expecting much of Qasr al-Hallabat as the Lonley Planet describes the ruins as “Sadly little more than a jumble of crumbling walls and fallen stones”, but there has obviously been considerable reconstruction work undertaken since that was written. Built as a fort in the 2nd century AD to protect again raiding desert tribes, it was later converted to a monastery in Byzantine times.
The Umayyads rebuilt and extended with white limestone over the existing black basalt blocks,
creating a three story pleasure palace with four large towers, a next door mosque
and the bath complex at as-Sarah. SPOT
By the time we had arrived at Umm al-Jimal the sun had disappeared behind clouds and it had turned bitterly cold (at least to us it was bitter; you who have suffered the snow in the UK might think it balmy) and we weren’t really in the mood to try to piece together the myriad of structural remains (there are over 150 buildings, including 15 churches).
Referred to by archaeologists as the “Black Gem of the Desert”, the rural settlement was an important agricultural and trading centre during the Roman, Byzantine and early Islamic periods, and much of the original layout remains, but the unlabelled jumble of blocks defeated us. SPOT
We soon sought the warmth of the Land Rover for the drive to Irbid, a university city about 20km south of the Syrian border. A detour due to road works had us contend with what felt like a thousand speed bumps, but the hassle of trying to navigate through Irbid was removed when a man named Osama wound down his pickup window and asked if we needed help, then proceeded to lead us to our hotel. The kindness of strangers never ceases to amaze at times.
Once settled in we treated ourselves to a meal out and went downstairs to the News Cafe which was packed with students meeting friends, chatting on their mobiles, surfing the web or enjoying a hubble bubble pipe. There was certainly a “western” vibe that we hadn’t experienced for a while, although we weren’t as keen on the smoky atmosphere.
The Syrian border beckons tomorrow morning and, fingers crossed, we’ll get back across without too much difficulty or delay as we want to visit the Roman theatre at Bosra on our way to Damascus.
The bear playing the banjo scares me.
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