I continued my exploration of downtown Amman by visiting the Roman Theatre on Sunday. The theatre was built in the 2nd century AD and was cut into the northern side of one of Amman's many hills. I had seen the theatre from the citadel, but did not really appreciate its immense size until I was standing on the stage looking up at the endless tiers of seating in front of me. To give you an idea of the size, the theatre can seat 6000 people and to say that the tiers of seating are steep is like saying that Gaddafi is not the nicest man in the world.
(By the way if you want a fun challenge check out the vlogbrothers video called "Sheen or Gaddafi?" in which you have to decide whether various insane ramblings were said by Charlie Sheen or Gaddafi - harder to pick than you'd think! http://www.youtube.com/user/vlogbrothers#p/u/4/WsiYvcn8oZw)
I saw that other people had scaled the tiers right up to the top so I elected to do the same. Going up the first 50 or so crumbling steps was not so bad. Then I made the mistake of looking down and though I continued on, determined to reach the top, I noticed that my legs had begun to stage their own protest by getting a bad case of the wobbles. I learnt from my mistake and did not look down again until I reached the top - all the while trying to block out the nagging thought that the trip back down was going to be terrifying.
Now contrary to Mum's beliefs, I don't think I have a fear of heights. I'm fine on aeroplanes, tall buildings and can hadle centrepoint tower with no problems. I think what I have is a healthy self preservation instinct, that is a fear of falling to my death from a great height.
Anyway, I got to the top and shakily turned around to face the stage and sat down.
I almost immediately very nearly brought up my breakfast.
I tried to enjoy the sweeping views of Amman - but it was like being perched on the very edge of a cliff. Thank god my camera has an anti-shake feature. I took a few shots of the scenery and quick one of myself (in which I have a smile so tense you would think that someone has a gun to my back!) to prove I climbed up there - before I begun the excruciating task of carefully side stepping back down to the bottom. Once I was on safe ground, I was pleased to see all the other tourists were side stepping down just as gingerly as I had - and a few also looked a bit green around the gills. In this part of the world I expect to come across quite a few more old Roman theatres - but I think in future I may be able to appreciate the awesome feats of engineering better from the stage :-)
On Monday I took public transport to go on a day trip to the lovely town of Madaba - about 45 min out of Amman. It was great to get out of Amman and enjoy the lovely scenery as we drove past grove after grove of olive trees. Madaba is renown for its amzing collection of mosaics dating back to 560 AD and has the added bonus of being small enough that you can walk to every site. I was initially consulting my map quite a bit until I realised that the easiest way to know how close you were to another site was to look at the concentration of souvenir shops on any given street.
The most famous site in Madaba is the mosaic map of Palestine currently housed in the Greek Orthodox church of St George, which was built over the remains of an earlier Byzantine church. The orginal map measured 16 x 6 metres and was made from 2 million stone tiles. They estimate it probably took 6 years to put together. The map is remarkably geographically accurate and you can still see Jerusalem, the Dead Sea, the River Jordan, Jericho, Hebron as well as The Nile Delta in Egypt. I spent about an hour looking at the map - but I should say about 45 minutes of that time was spent sitting back as another bus load of tourists bustled in and pushed to the front. I would dart foward for a quick look between each new busload. Those Japanese know how to run a tour don't they? Matching jackets, caps and head sets to hear the Japanese translation of what the local guide was saying in English -very impressive. My favourite part of the map was the fish swimming up the Jordan River away from the toxic salt levels in the Dead Sea.
Speaking of the Dead Sea, Tuesday saw me set off on a day trip tour to Mt Nebo, the Dead Sea and Bethany-beyond-the-jordan (the baptism site of Jesus). My companions for the day were our ever-smiling driver Hani, two Phillipino flight attendants and an older know it all American who used to work for an American oil company in the Middle East more than 25 years ago. Joanne and Nikki (the flight attendants) spent much of the car trip re-applying make up - which I found endlessly amusing - and Tom (the American) spent much of the trip delivering his pearls of wisdom relating to middle eastern politics in a most patronising tone. I usually interrupted his rants by leaning forward and asking Hani yet another question about the local area (why are there so many bridal dress shops in Madaba?) which he answered with endless patience.
I found my reaction to the biblical sites of Mt Nebo (place where God showed Moses the promised land before he died) and Bethany-beyond-the-jordan a bit strange. I thought, even as a lapsed catholic, I would find them a bit moving but I felt none of the historical significance whilst there. I found the sites more interesting for their geographic and political significance than for any religious connotations.
Mt Nebo was windy, crawling with more busloads of tourists but afforded excellent views of the region. The baptism site, now just a stagnant puddle as the river has changed its course over the last 2000 years, is located in a military zone as the jordan river forms the border between Jordan and Israel. The river, which used to be a mighty 60 metres across, is now a depressing 3-4m wide creek. I asked our guide what the cause of the drop in water level was and he smiled and said "we have lovely neighbours". He went on to explain that both Israel and Syria have built dams further upstream.
On reflection I think my reaction to these biblical sites has much to do with my reaction to the bible stories in which I first heard of them. As a child I suppose I viewed the bible stories as (apologies if I offend anyone) mythic tales. Jesus walking on water - to me occurred in a magical place - not a real location on the other side of the world. And naturally enough the brown waters of the River Jordan and the windy peak of Mt Nebo - though interesting - did not seem magical to me.
Anyway, for me the real highlight of the day was visiting the Dead Sea. As we drove down through the rocky desert landscape from Mt Nebo we would catch glimpses of the sparkling aqua blue water and I could feel my excitement building. It is a stunningly beautiful part of the world.
The only way to swim in the Dead Sea is pay to go to a "beach" which is more like a resort with swimming pools, good shower facilities and many refreshments on sale. We went to the cheapest beach, Amman Beach - though cheapest is a relative term as it still cost 15 JD to enter. The pools looked lovely but as soon as we got changed we all headed down the steps to the Dead Sea. My flight attendant companions were dressed in the tiniest of bikinis and I looked positively victorian covered as I was from neck to knee in my rash top and board shorts.
The beach is made up of brown dirt dotted with plastic chairs and the aqua water is dotted with buoyant tourists. The incredibly high salt levels mean that it is difficult not to float in the Dead Sea. Even you Dad, would float here! Though it allowed me to tick off one item on my "bucket list" - it seems as though god doesn't really want you to swim in the Dead Sea. To get beyond ankle deep water you have to clamber over small, sharp and very slippery rocks. This inevitably leads to small cuts and grazes if you're lucky, and a badly sprained ankle if you are not. I was lucky and soon knew I had acquired many small cuts and grazes as the salt was literally added to the wound!!
So with stinging ankles I floated on my stomach, on my back, and standing up in the Dead Sea. It was fun for a while but after a small wave meant that I got some water in my eyes and on my lips I realised that they really were not exaggerating about the salt levels. I soon headed back to shore and again marvelled that there is no way to leave the Dead Sea in a dignified manner. I joined other tourists around me gingerly crawling in low squats through the rocks back to the safety of the brown dirt and plastic chairs.
Joanne and Nikki wanted to pay another 3JD to have some Dead Sea mud smeared on their faces and bodies. I felt, as I watched tourist after tourist ascend the stairs to the showers looking like racially offensive cabaret performers from the deep south with their black faces, that the Jordanians may have been having a bit of fun with the tourists whilst making sizable profits.
My skin did not seem to like the cleansing properties of the salt water. By the time I got back to my plastic chair my face looked like I had invested in a chemical peel. I had gathered my belongings and was headed back across the dirt when my foot went through the sand and I found myself falling up to mid thigh in the dirt. As other concerned tourists asked if I was OK I found myself laughing hysterically. I scrambled in the dirt to find my lost thong and a lovely old lady asked with real worry in her voice "are you SURE you are ok?".
I think she was relieved when I smiled up at her, covered in an attractive mixture of salt and dirt and said, "I'm better than OK. How many other people here can say that they got a Dead Sea pedicure for free?"
(By the way if you want a fun challenge check out the vlogbrothers video called "Sheen or Gaddafi?" in which you have to decide whether various insane ramblings were said by Charlie Sheen or Gaddafi - harder to pick than you'd think! http://www.youtube.com/user/vlogbrothers#p/u/4/WsiYvcn8oZw)
I saw that other people had scaled the tiers right up to the top so I elected to do the same. Going up the first 50 or so crumbling steps was not so bad. Then I made the mistake of looking down and though I continued on, determined to reach the top, I noticed that my legs had begun to stage their own protest by getting a bad case of the wobbles. I learnt from my mistake and did not look down again until I reached the top - all the while trying to block out the nagging thought that the trip back down was going to be terrifying.
Now contrary to Mum's beliefs, I don't think I have a fear of heights. I'm fine on aeroplanes, tall buildings and can hadle centrepoint tower with no problems. I think what I have is a healthy self preservation instinct, that is a fear of falling to my death from a great height.
Anyway, I got to the top and shakily turned around to face the stage and sat down.
I almost immediately very nearly brought up my breakfast.
I tried to enjoy the sweeping views of Amman - but it was like being perched on the very edge of a cliff. Thank god my camera has an anti-shake feature. I took a few shots of the scenery and quick one of myself (in which I have a smile so tense you would think that someone has a gun to my back!) to prove I climbed up there - before I begun the excruciating task of carefully side stepping back down to the bottom. Once I was on safe ground, I was pleased to see all the other tourists were side stepping down just as gingerly as I had - and a few also looked a bit green around the gills. In this part of the world I expect to come across quite a few more old Roman theatres - but I think in future I may be able to appreciate the awesome feats of engineering better from the stage :-)
On Monday I took public transport to go on a day trip to the lovely town of Madaba - about 45 min out of Amman. It was great to get out of Amman and enjoy the lovely scenery as we drove past grove after grove of olive trees. Madaba is renown for its amzing collection of mosaics dating back to 560 AD and has the added bonus of being small enough that you can walk to every site. I was initially consulting my map quite a bit until I realised that the easiest way to know how close you were to another site was to look at the concentration of souvenir shops on any given street.
The most famous site in Madaba is the mosaic map of Palestine currently housed in the Greek Orthodox church of St George, which was built over the remains of an earlier Byzantine church. The orginal map measured 16 x 6 metres and was made from 2 million stone tiles. They estimate it probably took 6 years to put together. The map is remarkably geographically accurate and you can still see Jerusalem, the Dead Sea, the River Jordan, Jericho, Hebron as well as The Nile Delta in Egypt. I spent about an hour looking at the map - but I should say about 45 minutes of that time was spent sitting back as another bus load of tourists bustled in and pushed to the front. I would dart foward for a quick look between each new busload. Those Japanese know how to run a tour don't they? Matching jackets, caps and head sets to hear the Japanese translation of what the local guide was saying in English -very impressive. My favourite part of the map was the fish swimming up the Jordan River away from the toxic salt levels in the Dead Sea.
Speaking of the Dead Sea, Tuesday saw me set off on a day trip tour to Mt Nebo, the Dead Sea and Bethany-beyond-the-jordan (the baptism site of Jesus). My companions for the day were our ever-smiling driver Hani, two Phillipino flight attendants and an older know it all American who used to work for an American oil company in the Middle East more than 25 years ago. Joanne and Nikki (the flight attendants) spent much of the car trip re-applying make up - which I found endlessly amusing - and Tom (the American) spent much of the trip delivering his pearls of wisdom relating to middle eastern politics in a most patronising tone. I usually interrupted his rants by leaning forward and asking Hani yet another question about the local area (why are there so many bridal dress shops in Madaba?) which he answered with endless patience.
I found my reaction to the biblical sites of Mt Nebo (place where God showed Moses the promised land before he died) and Bethany-beyond-the-jordan a bit strange. I thought, even as a lapsed catholic, I would find them a bit moving but I felt none of the historical significance whilst there. I found the sites more interesting for their geographic and political significance than for any religious connotations.
Mt Nebo was windy, crawling with more busloads of tourists but afforded excellent views of the region. The baptism site, now just a stagnant puddle as the river has changed its course over the last 2000 years, is located in a military zone as the jordan river forms the border between Jordan and Israel. The river, which used to be a mighty 60 metres across, is now a depressing 3-4m wide creek. I asked our guide what the cause of the drop in water level was and he smiled and said "we have lovely neighbours". He went on to explain that both Israel and Syria have built dams further upstream.
On reflection I think my reaction to these biblical sites has much to do with my reaction to the bible stories in which I first heard of them. As a child I suppose I viewed the bible stories as (apologies if I offend anyone) mythic tales. Jesus walking on water - to me occurred in a magical place - not a real location on the other side of the world. And naturally enough the brown waters of the River Jordan and the windy peak of Mt Nebo - though interesting - did not seem magical to me.
Anyway, for me the real highlight of the day was visiting the Dead Sea. As we drove down through the rocky desert landscape from Mt Nebo we would catch glimpses of the sparkling aqua blue water and I could feel my excitement building. It is a stunningly beautiful part of the world.
The only way to swim in the Dead Sea is pay to go to a "beach" which is more like a resort with swimming pools, good shower facilities and many refreshments on sale. We went to the cheapest beach, Amman Beach - though cheapest is a relative term as it still cost 15 JD to enter. The pools looked lovely but as soon as we got changed we all headed down the steps to the Dead Sea. My flight attendant companions were dressed in the tiniest of bikinis and I looked positively victorian covered as I was from neck to knee in my rash top and board shorts.
The beach is made up of brown dirt dotted with plastic chairs and the aqua water is dotted with buoyant tourists. The incredibly high salt levels mean that it is difficult not to float in the Dead Sea. Even you Dad, would float here! Though it allowed me to tick off one item on my "bucket list" - it seems as though god doesn't really want you to swim in the Dead Sea. To get beyond ankle deep water you have to clamber over small, sharp and very slippery rocks. This inevitably leads to small cuts and grazes if you're lucky, and a badly sprained ankle if you are not. I was lucky and soon knew I had acquired many small cuts and grazes as the salt was literally added to the wound!!
So with stinging ankles I floated on my stomach, on my back, and standing up in the Dead Sea. It was fun for a while but after a small wave meant that I got some water in my eyes and on my lips I realised that they really were not exaggerating about the salt levels. I soon headed back to shore and again marvelled that there is no way to leave the Dead Sea in a dignified manner. I joined other tourists around me gingerly crawling in low squats through the rocks back to the safety of the brown dirt and plastic chairs.
Joanne and Nikki wanted to pay another 3JD to have some Dead Sea mud smeared on their faces and bodies. I felt, as I watched tourist after tourist ascend the stairs to the showers looking like racially offensive cabaret performers from the deep south with their black faces, that the Jordanians may have been having a bit of fun with the tourists whilst making sizable profits.
My skin did not seem to like the cleansing properties of the salt water. By the time I got back to my plastic chair my face looked like I had invested in a chemical peel. I had gathered my belongings and was headed back across the dirt when my foot went through the sand and I found myself falling up to mid thigh in the dirt. As other concerned tourists asked if I was OK I found myself laughing hysterically. I scrambled in the dirt to find my lost thong and a lovely old lady asked with real worry in her voice "are you SURE you are ok?".
I think she was relieved when I smiled up at her, covered in an attractive mixture of salt and dirt and said, "I'm better than OK. How many other people here can say that they got a Dead Sea pedicure for free?"
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