Wednesday 6th January – Amman

A beautiful sunny day to explore Amman has us wandering into the so called downtown area, which is where the souk and citadel are located.  Most of Amman is relatively modern, having been built up last century from a sleepy village, although in Roman times it was an important centre along the trade routes between the Red Sea and Syria (hence the large nymphaeum and impressive theatre with its adjoining odean SPOT).  Amman may also lack the covered souks that characterise Damascus or Aleppo, with the traders instead spread out along the side streets, but it seems to have a more laid back, less hectic atmosphere.  We bought some fruit and vegetables and were in search of dried apricots when a herbalist told us he had found the cure for cancer, although some people need two courses taking 60 days rather than the usual 30 to be cancer free.  Despite him saying “You can trust me”, we declined to buy any of his miracle cure.  He also tried to sell Anne a tonic for her hair, but as he started off his sales pitch by saying “Your hair doesn’t look so good”, he failed miserably.  I’m no salesman but I’m pretty sure insulting your customers isn’t the way to go.

After a wander around the market area and Roman sites we climbed up Jebel al-Qala’a, Amman’s highest point, where the citadel is located.  It’s the best place to fully appreciate the hilly nature of the city (which makes navigating by road a bit tricky). SPOT

Bronze Age remains show that the site had been a fortress for several thousand years, and remains of the Roman Temple of Hercules, a Byzantine basilica and an Umayyad palace pay testimony to its use throughout the centuries.

The National Archaeological Museum is also located within the 1700m long walls, and whilst presentation of the myriad of artefacts leaves a little to be desired, the presence of some of the Dead Sea Scrolls

and three of the 6500BC Ain Ghazal statues makes a visit worthwhile.

By this point Anne was requiring food so we descended off the hill in search of a suitable shwarma stall, but like taxis you can never find one when you want one (and when you don’t, you see them everywhere).  Fortunately an elderly gentleman stopped to see if we needed help as we stood looking around in vain.  He’d lived in Italy for 10 years and now runs a bookshop next to the nearby mosque, and his “...best friend is English”.  After ascertaining what we were after, he escorted us to a nearby place and even ordered for us before he made his excuses and left.  I’m not sure you would get that sort of help in central London.  We were strangely entertained by the fact that Jordan seems to have rediscovered the can ring pull; it’s been a while since either of us has seen one.

After lunch we took a taxi out into the western suburbs, the leafier, more affluent half of Amman, to a western style supermarket so we could stock up on some familiar brands to see us through the next weeks or so.  Taxis are so cheap in Amman that we could leave the Land Rover safely parked up without feeling too guilty about the expense of a taxi back as well.

Anne had been giving my hair disapproving looks for the last week or two, so it was time for a cut.  Stopping at a barber’s in one of the side streets in downtown Amman, I got probably the best haircut I’ve ever had.  After a number one all over out came the cut throat razor to trim all the edges and then he used some thin string to pluck any remaining out of place hairs; I think I now have a better understanding of the pain involved in waxing as it certainly made my eyes water.