November 10. 2015

Mohamads friend doesn’t appear at the meeting point in the morning so I go to the restaurant where Mohamad is working and wait there for him to open. He doesn’t have a phone number of the guy so there is no other way than buying the full price ticket which costs nearly a weeks salary of a local (well not for local people as Arabs pay only 1 Dinar which is 50 times less than I have to pay). Many people told me I have to see Petra because its so amazing so what to do.

After the entrance there are guys with horses waiting for me “Horseride is included in the ticket, its 2 km to the canyon” they say first. When I stop it changes a little to “little Bakshish pay, we have to pay tax for the horse inside” – wtf? I negotiate 2 Dinar for the 2km horse ride and after less than 500m we are at the beginning of the canyon. What a fucking scam… I offer to pay one Dinar but the guy refuses to take it twice so I put it back in my pocket and walk off. Suddenly he changes his mind and says “Ok, ok 1 Dinar” but I ignore him. Until I reach the other side of the canyon the scammers have pissed me of enough to spoil my whole morning. I hardly ever experienced this in a Muslim country so I start asking the scammers “What you pray? Dinar hu akbar?” which seems to be insulting enough to make them turn away immediately.

At the treasury I drink a surprisingly “cheap” tea for “only” one Dinar (two days later I get salad, falafel, humus, bread and two tea for 3 Dinar in Amman). I calm down a little and remember my scammer tactics – I switch the language talking hindi from now and everybody who calls me friend gets a long and “intimidating” hug. Most people are scared off by this and many tourists who seem to be as pissed off as I am have a good laughter about it.

I continue my way and after a few hundred meters I turn left and climb the mountain to the high place of sacrifice where it seems to be quieter. As soon as I reach the top I get invited for tea and people become very friendly again. It seems very strange until I ask a girl who offers me tea what this is about. She tells me that she is Beduin and the people down are Locals from Wadi Musa. Now it makes sense that the hotel manager told me yesterday that the people in the Bedu village are “bad people”. Quite the opposite seems to be the case. I continue my way in between friendly Beduines, greedy locals and laughing (about my tactics) tourists. Some people have told me that I should take a 2 day ticket which costs only 10% more as Petra is impossible to see in one day. This reminded me of Angkor Wat where somebody could easily spend a week so I do the walk of around 10 – 15 kilometers including at least 2000 steps well before sunset. Less than 7 hours to see everything easily and after I got the feeling that unlike Angkor, Hampi, Taj Mahal or Northern lights Petra is totally overrated and overpriced. You’d better look at my pictures and enjoy a day somewhere else in Jordan with honest Muslim people than coming here to be scammed. After climbing up to the monastery I am totally exhausted. On the way back I hire a camel from a Beduin to take me most of the way for 6 Dinar which seems to be kind of ok compared to the 25 he asked at the beginning.

In the evening I get food at Mohamads place. He seems to be pretty sorry about my experience and tells me that he is experiencing pretty much the same as he is refugee from Syria. Wadi Musa people are lazy and greedy he tells me laughing and serves me the best lemon mint juice I ever had. When I leave later he refuses to take any money for what I consumed – only one Euro he takes as a good luck charm for his way to Europe. I get in the car and hit the road towards dead sea. The cloud base is around 1200m above sea level so I drive through really bad fog slowing me down to 40 km/h as the first half of the way is up to 1500m and freezing cold outside. Three hours later I arrive 400m below sea level and it is warm again. Its late already and I planned to sleep somewhere at the dead sea in the car. At the last village before dead sea (south of it) I pick up a hitchhiker – good chance to maybe get a private place to sleep for tonight I think. But there comes no village! We pass all dead sea until at the other side we approach the hotel area at the northern edge. He gets out at a 5* hotel and I turn around to go to a little tea stall by the road I had noticed a few kilometers earlier. Allahn, the owner is happy to welcome me and tries hard to teach me some more Arabic before both of us go to sleep around midnight. He sleeps inside the tea stall and I sleep like planned in the car.