From Red to Dead (Seas): a week’s vacation in Jordan

Jumbo Hostel

Last Friday Oscar and I boarded a bus to Stockholm, ready to begin a great weeklong vacation in Jordan. Being that Stockholm is a 4-5 hour drive from Jönköping and we had a fairly early morning flight, we had to find a place to stay for the night. We decided to splurge a bit to stay right next to the airport and to have a bit of a fun experience at the same time, and we stayed at Jumbo Hostel, a hotel/hostel in an old 747 airplane. It was pretty cool, our room still having the original overhead baggage hold and windows, along with some nice new extras like a small flat screen TV and cozy bunk beds.

The next morning we were up bright and early for our free breakfast and then the shuttle to the airport. I was definitely looking forward to a break from the freezing cold winter of Sweden! Check-in at the airport went fairly smoothly, except that the woman checking us in decided that my backpack (which isn’t even a big backpack) was “odd-sized/special luggage” and we had to go take it to some other part of the airport to check it. I had some mild worries that it wouldn’t arrive to Aqaba with us, but it did.

Otherwise, this was my first experience with charter travel. We booked a really cheap flight/hotel package with Apollo, a Swedish/Scandinavian travel company. I had thought it was so strange that when we booked the trip we were told it was a direct flight to Aqaba (“Impossible!” I thought) and given a flight number, yet if we went to the SAS website and searched, there was no record of such a flight. I had no idea how this whole charter thing worked, in that the travel company books an entire flight and then sells the seats off to their customers. Hence, booking last minute is quite cheap as they try to sell off as many of the leftover seats as possible.

Rock bridge in Wadi Rum

Of course, being on SAS this also meant no complimentary food or beverages, which of course cost a ridiculous amount to buy in-flight. The flight was about six hours, but went by fairly quickly. And when we landed everyone clapped, which apparently is a charter thing (where I come from, that means the flight was terrible and everyone’s just happy to be alive). Disembarking at Aqaba’s King Hussein International Airport, I was reminded a lot of Morocco. The airport was…MASSIVE. Just kidding! It was tiny. In fact, we walked inside directly to an empty room where we were corralled in to have our passports stamped, then moved immediately into “baggage claim” — i.e. a room with one tiny baggage claim and a duty free shop.

Despite being the only plane at the airport, it still took a while for us to get our bags, and then everyone had to wait for everyone else to get their bags before the buses left to the respective hotels. We had gotten the cheapest deal by choosing “unspecified” boarding, basically having no idea where we would live under the assumption that they couldn’t possibly put is into too bad of a hotel. So we were handed a packet telling us we would be staying in the hotel Aquamarina IV and within a half hour we were in the city of Aqaba checking into our home for the next week.

Running down a huge sand dune in Wadi Rum

That night we walked around a bit, mostly up and down our street, and tried to get accustomed to this new place. I find that I always experience the most culture shock when I arrive somewhere at night, and Oscar was experiencing some as well having traveled a bit less. Walking down the street, it felt like everyone was staring at us, every taxi driver was yelling to us, and everyone was shouting to us “Swedish? Where you from? Sweden?” (This was quite a new experience for me!) We didn’t realize at the time, though it’s obvious to me now, that this was especially bad that night because they all knew that Saturday night was the night all the Swedish people arrive. I think charter flights from Scandinavia are the main source of tourism for Aqaba, as most other people fly in and out of Amman and may not even make it down to Aqaba at all.

So we grabbed a delicious meal — I am a sucker for Middle Eastern cuisine — and headed back to the hotel, having experience a sufficient amount of discomfort in our new country for the night.  The next day held a similar amount of harassment from taxi drivers and such, but again it was because everyone in Aqaba knew it was our first day there, and it was amazing how much it decreased after that day (mostly because most of the drivers had found their clients and were gone from the city taking people to Petra or the Dead Sea).

Red Sea shore (Israel across the way)

We further explored the city that day, walking along the shore to the famed flagpole. According to Jordanians it is the tallest free standing flagpole in the world. (According to wikipedia, it’s the second tallest.) Sadly, there was no flag on the pole. We were told by various people that it was being replaced, but in our entire time in Aqaba (including the one glorious day when we could actually see the pole from our room at the Mövenpick) there never was a flag flying. Apparently, though, when it is up the flag can be seen from Israel, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and, of course, Jordan. Impressive!

After further exploration, and a delicious 30 cent falafel breakfast/lunch, we donned our swimsuits and grabbed a cab to Japanese Garden, a public beach known for its snorkeling. The beach wouldn’t make it on any top ten lists, and unfortunately the shore and the water were dirty and littered. There were little kids playing in the water collecting cans and other trash. We rented snorkel gear, but for 4JD (equal to 4 euros) it was a rip off considering the bad condition of the gear. The snorkel wasn’t even connected to the mask, and Oscar’s had a hole in it.

In the end, I didn’t even go snorkeling (and sadly, we ended up never going later on like we planned — looks like Red Sea snorkeling with remain on my to-do list).Oscar said it was cool, but even he got a little claustrophobic by how high the coral was, and that’s my one problem when snorkeling. I was also getting over a cold and didn’t want to make it worse. I did go in the water a bit though — couldn’t miss my first chance to say I’d been in the Red Sea! Another cool thing about the beach was that we could see both Israel and Egypt across the water from us. Eilat, Israel is pretty easy to see from anywhere on the coast in Aqaba, but it was cool to have (just the vaguest) glimpse of Egypt, though the visibility wasn’t the great that afternoon.

We headed back to the city just before sunset and grabbed dinner and our first “hubbly bubbly” in Jordan (aka hookah, shisha, argeela), and Oscar’s first ever. It was nice, and Oscar really liked it. I have done it a number of times before, but being just the two of us we had to smoke more and I found after a while it made me tired and a little icky feeling and had to stop. But anyways, it’s something you have to do, a very popular and important part of culture in Jordan and the Middle East in general. We also stopped in at a bar, Sea View Bar, that Oscar had been recommended. It had nice views of the city but the beer was really expensive, more than we would even pay at home!

The next day we spent some more time checking out Aqaba. That morning we received some fairly heavy rain, much more than Aqaba was equipped to deal with (the worst rain in ten years, we later learned). Walking by a mosque we saw that the rain had caused much of the roof to collapse in — we couldn’t believe it! The streets and sidewalks were flooded all over the place. I’ve never seen a place so ill-equipped for rain. Though this wasn’t to be our last experience of how unprepared the area was for rain.

Fresh market

We spent the morning exploring the commercial side of Aqaba (which is a duty free zone, by the way). We were intrigued by the poorly-named Dream Mall, which turned out to be one of the lamest malls I’ve ever been to. Then we checked out the commercial center, which was home to places like Burger King, Popeye’s, Pizza Hut, and Gloria Jean’s Coffee. We eventually ditched the commercialism for a falafel from a place that Oscar had discovered the night before — 50 cents (by the end of our trip we were getting the local price of 25 cents!) and the most popular joint in the area (Oscar was personally shown to it when he asked another restaurant owner where he could get a falafel!)

We spent the afternoon exploring the markets in Aqaba, enjoying being one of few tourists around. We both think that Aqaba hasn’t yet realized how much they can exploit tourism (which is refreshing!) but we can only imagine how much it will change in the next ten years once tourism really booms. Shopping around, vendors were honest and friendly, not at all harassing us, trying to rip us off, or trying to bargain hard with us. Most were glad if we were interested, but didn’t care if we weren’t. It was a huge difference from Morocco!

Wadi Rum

That night we booked a two day tour to Wadi Rum and Petra for the next days. The next morning we were packed and ready to head out to the desert by early afternoon. Wadi Rum is a protected desert not far from Aqaba and it’s pretty famous for its rock formations, reminding me a lot of places out in the Western U.S.

Once we arrived to the entrance we were moved into two “jeeps,” which were really pickup trucks with benches in the back. We ended up in a truck full of Swedes and Norwegians, which was a little frustrating to me because they all spoke in Swedish/Norwegian (mutually understandable languages) to each other and I was totally left out of all conversation, while the other truck had everyone else (Chinese, English, Danish).

The desert was incredibly beautiful…and incredibly cold. At first it was fine, just a bit chilly when we were driving, but as the day went on it got cooler (I believe mostly because of the previous day’s rain, and the gray clouds that remained). We saw some really amazing rock formations though, got to climb a huge sand dune, a rock bridge, and visit the House of Lawrence. Oscar and I even got dressed up in traditional bedouin clothing! Unfortunately a lot of those pictures are lost (see theft post below).

The "jeeps"

We braved the cold to watch the sunset, then huddled together in the back of the truck for the (what seemed like eternal) drive to our camp for the night. Luckily we had anticipated some cold of course (it’s the desert at night!) but even under my layers of clothing I was still cold (the fact that everything was wet from the previous day’s rain didn’t help).

We huddled around the fire while we ate dinner and put off going to bed too early. I was cold and exhausted, and mainly listened as our guide talked a bit about Jordan and Jordanian culture. We did take a few minutes to stand out and look at the stars. Though I’m sure they must have been impressive, I was so cold that I, lover of stargazing, didn’t much care. I have to say, I spent a night in the Sahara, spending almost the entire night out under the stars, and don’t remember being cold at all! Hm.

Bedouin camp

Eventually we all wandered off to bed, and Oscar and I tried to figure out the best way to spend the night in our cold, wet bedouin tent. I imagine the camp and the whole experience is usually a lot more fun. We just happened to be there probably the one of less than a handful of nights in a year where it’s rained and is freezing (not to mention it was winter, if that makes any kind of difference).

The next day we were up early for a pretty dismal breakfast and then the drive to Petra, one of the new seven wonders of the world (I’m now three for seven). The entrance was quite expensive, at 33JD for the day (and it will be rising to 50JD in November), though it included (minus tips) a horse ride to the Siq (the gorge where the actual entrance to Petra begins) and tour. However, after our horsemen forced us to give them 4JD tips each (for a <10 minute ride, where mine didn’t even walk with me nor stop the horse when it randomly decided to start galloping and nearly give me a heart attack), we decided to skip out on the tour and explore it for ourselves.

The Siq (gorge entrance)

Walking through the long gorge entrance, Oscar and I were already fascinated. Every window or set of steps we discovered carved into the rock wall was an exciting new thing we had to take a photo with (which of course led to Oscar’s camera dying prematurely and me taking all the photos…which are now probably deleted or lying at the bottom of a trash heap). Admittedly, neither of us knew much about Petra. I had only read bits and pieces about it, and had only seen a picture of the Treasury, which is the first thing you see upon entering the actual city.

After taking our sweet time through the gorge, we spotted it: the Treasury. The first glimpse was between the two narrow rock walls, and it was spellbinding. Of course, once you’re closer you spot groups of people as well, but they can’t even take away from the majesty of it. A huge, magnificent building carved into this massive pink rock wall. I can’t even begin to imagine how long it took to create.

We spent some time taking pictures and admiring it, then decided to move along and see what else there was to see. In my mind, I was already satisfied, I’d already “seen Petra.” I had no idea. A twist and a turn around some rock, and we were met with the REAL beginnings of a city. Huge steps leading who knows where, facade after facade carved into the rock walls, huge buildings hovering in the rock above, seemingly unreachable to us. There were tons of little holes dotted in the rock as far as the eye could see, all former homes. There was even an arena, again carved entirely of rock! We were smitten.

Spotting the Treasury

Of course we were immediately climbing all over everything, ducking into every opening. We were explorers in a forgotten land. We sniffed around, found a stairway, climbed it, found another, climbed it. Before we knew it, we were off in the far reaches, exploring the huge buildings we had seen from below, wondering at how to possibly reach them, and we were all alone! No other tourists were venturing off the track as much as we.

Of course we snapped a million pictures, posing in windows and doorways, overlooking the huge and beautiful city of Petra below us….I’m not sure I’ll ever get over the loss of some of those photos. They were so great. We walked into temples that most people hadn’t even realized they could go inside and took picture posing as statues on top of old columns that had long lost their original sculptures.

Petra was amazing. Even in the on-and-off rain we experienced most of the day, it couldn’t put a damper on our explorer spirits. One guy in our group, who we talked with later, lamented that Petra was crowded and dirty. I can agree to an extent…yes, there are people (it’s one of the wonders of the world!), but considering the size (compared to, say, any of the other wonders except the Great Wall) you can easily escape the big tour groups and find a place all to yourself. And as for dirty, yes some of the buildings were filled with water bottles, empty snack bags, and other trash, but considering the increasing price tag they’re putting on the entrance, I think maybe this will improve.

The Treasury, in all its glory

But Petra, oh Petra, none of that bothered us. Our group had been given six hours to spend in Petra, and I had thought that would be overkill, but I could have easily spent a couple days. After a ton of walking, there were still plenty of places to visit. We quickly learned, though, that the must-do was the monastery.

We ignored all the men trying to hawk us a ride on their mules, but we should have realized what that meant. They told us it took an hour to climb up to the monastery, but we were sure they were exaggerating to try to get us to pay for a ride. Well, they weren’t. The climb is over 800 steps, not to mention plenty of non-stepped uphill climbing. And since you can’t see your destination, you have no idea how much longer you’re going to be climbing.

By the time we got to the top, we were impressed by the monastery (again, no pictures, but it’s like the treasury but at least twice as big) but exhausted. But we couldn’t give up then. It seemed the real place to be was at the top of a small mountain across from the monastery.

And so our climbing continued, and by the time we reached the top we had it all to ourselves. The spot had great views of the valley and desert on the other side, not to mention of the monastery. We had some really excellent pictures of us sitting beneath the Jordanian flag with the monastery behind us (sorry so bitter!).

Lovely Petra

Then it started to rain. We hid in a cave for a while until it started to let up, and thankfully it stopped by the time we started climbing down (that could have been disastrous — on our climb up we witnessed at least three people fall!) Once we reached the bottom we were already running low on time. We dragged our exhausted legs the long walk back (the Siq is LONG, and our horsemen refused to take us back because we argued about the tip!)

It was a great, great day, but the end of it was a little scary. We were loaded into a van and two cars to drive back to Aqaba. The first part of the drive, along the King’s Highway, is a little bit scary on its own, winding along cliffs. Add to this the pouring, pouring rain, thick fog, AND the fact that our van’s windows were 100% fogged up and no amount of wiping or opening side windows would de-fog it (and of course the defroster didn’t work). Numerous times the worrying mothers in our van insisted that the driver stop and call for another car to get us, but he refused. I admit, there were a few times where I really started to worry for our safety, and imagined our car sliding and flying off a cliff, never to be seen again.

Luckily, once we got off the King’s Highway the weather and the car windows cleared up a bit, the roads were much safer, and we made it back to Aqaba safely. The next day we learned that some of the people from the van had complained and were meeting with the owner of the tour company (coming down form Amman) to demand a refund, but Oscar and I had a date with the Dead Sea the day of their meeting and so we never did find out how that went.

The "beach" at Aquamarina I

The next day we needed a break, so we stayed in Aqaba. We realized that the hotel book said that our sister hotel, Aquamarina I, had a beach and we could get a pass from the reception and use it. A private beach, how exciting! So we donned our beach gear and walked out to Aquamarina I. Well. The “beach” had a nice sign above the entrance to it stating “THE BEACH.” It needed that sign. Because the beach was actually a huge slab of concrete, hanging out over the water. We couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, and lay out our towels on the hard concrete. It was nice to sit in the sun for a bit, but we got pretty bored of the concrete pretty quick.

Our taste of the lame sparked our desire to see how the other half lived, so we stopped into the lobby of the neighboring InterContinental. Here we learned what all the surrounding construction was about, and learned that our sad little Aquamarina I would not be around much longer. In the lobby they had a model of an entire tourist city that was being built on the edge of Aqaba, complete with waterpark, shopping mall, condos, five-star hotels, and even sea huts (built over the water, as they were actually bringing the Red Sea inland a bit so they could have a place for all the private yachts and stuff). It was pretty insane.

View of the Promised Land from Mt. Nebo

After that we decided to also check out the other super nice five star hotel, the Mövenpick. We walked in (after going through the super security just to get inside — which I of course now greatly appreciate!) and started to make our way across the bridge to where the pools and beach were, but we saw the security guy at the end and immediately felt, “Wow, we don’t belong here!” Funny how a few days later we would be staying there!

We called it an early night because the next morning we had a bright and early wakeup call for our daytrip to the Dead Sea! We had found to elderly Danish men to share a cab with, and we set off for a big of a drive up the edge of Jordan. The Dead Sea is quite big, and appears on the side of the road long before you reach where you can bathe. But we were saving that for later anyways. First we drove to Mt. Nebo, where it is said that God showed Moses the Holy Land, and where Moses is apparently buried (though no one knows where). It was interesting, really great views that it was hazy enough that we couldn’t see Jerusalem or much of the other places in the Promised Land panorama.

Taking in the view from Mt. Nebo

Our old Danish friends wanted to visit Madaba, so we went there next. Well, luckily our driver knew what most people go to Madaba for and dropped us off in front of the church, because it seemed when we arrived the Danes had no idea what there actually was to do there. We went into the church and looked at a mosaic on the floor that was a map of the Promised Land (which the Danes had shown us a picture of in their Jordan book, yet they didn’t even seem to recognize until I mentioned it them!) and then we were off again.

I was a little miffed at first because there was a 15JD entrance fee to the Amman Beach on the Dead Sea and our driver had told us it was free, but we had such a great time there that I forgive it now. (I just don’t forgive the thieves who ensured that we have no pictures of it!!!)

The Dead Sea (saaaltyyy!)

The Dead Sea was, in two words, ridiculously awesome. Looking at it, Oscar and I questioned if it was really as floaty as it was reputed to be. We had no idea what to expect, really. You can walk in (though the first couple meters are a maze of crusted salt to navigate over) but as soon as the bottom leaves your feet, you sure do float! And certainly floating on your back is the best way to give in to the salty sea’s control.

You can balance yourself to “stand” in the water, but it requires a bit more concentration. Oscar and I did some ballroom dancing in the water which was fun. It’s definitely a nice place to be with someone else to try out different ways of floating with each other, on each other, entangled with each other, and practice some synchronized floating.

Of course, the salt is a little painful on any areas that are cut or dry, but I didn’t feel much of any pain. The one thing I had read was the thing to do was to cover yourself in Dead Sea mud. There were plenty of (mostly heavy men) people covered head to toe, even all over their bathing suits, in black mud. But we then found that it was 3JD a person to use it (they had a huge vat of it) and we hadn’t even brought in anymore money.

Us at the Dead Sea

So we decided to take some initiative and dig up some mud from the bottom ourselves. We were nowhere near covered, we probably looked more like we were attempting some kind of tribal paint, but it was fun! And it was more fun watching the chubby men out in the water flipping around because they were trying to stay up and wash the mud off but they were losing balance bobbing and flipping around.

It was very cool, though, and your skin feels so strange afterword. Sort of soft, sort of oily, sort of just…different. We had a really good time, though, and we of course did all kind of poses, reading a magazine, raising all fours, lounging, etc. for pictures but again…you know the deal by now.

Again we were exhausted by the time we got back to Aqaba and called it an early night. The next day was (we thought) our last day. We were sad, we loved Jordan so much, and I made the mistake of saying, “I wish we didn’t have to leave!” Ha, if only I knew.

Sad because it was (I thought) our last day in Jordan

We walked all over Aqaba, cementing it all in our minds, doing some souvenir shopping (a lot of searching for the right hookah for us, and for a few other things for other people). We made a point to spend all but a couple JD of what I had left (I like to always save a little bit of every currency, but in the end I didn’t get to keep any JD…) on food and gifts.

By mid-afternoon we were back in Aquamarina IV, sitting in the lobby waiting for the bus to arrive and take us to the airport. And then we were robbed. And the rest…is history. Which you can read about in detail in the previous post.

The Story of the Theft

Well, our vacation to Jordan turned out to be a little more than we’d bargained for, and we ended up coming back to Sweden four days later than we’d expected. So before I dive into a post about the awesome actual week of vacation we had in Jordan, it’s best to get out of the way the long and quite interesting story of the theft that kept us there for so many days after.

On Saturday afternoon Oscar and I were sitting in the lobby of our Aqaba hotel, Aquamarina IV, waiting for the bus to come and take us to the airport. When the bus pulled up, I took our bags out to the bus, leaving my purse, carry on, and coat on the couch next to Oscar. As I was leaving, I heard a woman ask Oscar if he could show her how to use the hotel guest phone, which was right next to where we were sitting. I looked back for just a second, and glimpsed her from behind as he got up to help her, but though I thought it was kind of weird that someone was asking him how to use the phone, I didn’t really think anything of it.

A couple minutes later Oscar came out to meet me at the bus, carrying all the rest of our stuff…except my purse. I asked him where it was and he said it wasn’t on the couch. I freaked out a little bit, but assumed that maybe it had fallen or he just missed it somehow. We went back in the lobby and looked everywhere, asked the reception if they’d seen it. Nothing. At that moment Oscar and I both realized: the woman. She had been distracting him so someone could take it. He said that after he’d come to help her, she lifted the phone, randomly pushed two or three buttons, then hung up and walked away.

Now I started to really freak out, as everything important was in my purse: both our passports, my wallet with all my money, credit and debit card, all my identification, even all my Swedish and American money, not to mention my camera (third time I’ve had my camera stolen!) with all my pictures from the entire week (many times when we used only my camera — like at the Dead Sea and most of Petra — instead of Oscar’s), and a number of other things, many of which are only important to me (like a small notebook in which I had been keeping notes on all the interesting, funny, or otherwise memorable things from our trip).

While all these things were incredibly upsetting to have lost, the passports were more than just that. How could we leave the country in a couple hours without passports? A kind of chaos ensued, as Oscar and I, along with some of the hotel receptionists and the representative from Apollo, the charter travel company we did the trip with, and who was supposed to be getting us on the bus and taking us to the airport, tried to figure out what to do and also tried to look for this woman from the lobby.

I was pacing up and down the sidewalk, at a total loss of what to think or do, when I stopped at a car parked on the street a short way down from the hotel. I had a weird feeling, and I also had this crazy idea that it looked like a man in the backseat was holding what looked like my purse (which has large silver rings on each end of the strap). I of course thought it was a crazy thing to think, but I couldn’t help but stare more into the car and move a little closer. Then I looked in the front seat and there sat someone who looked exactly like the woman I had seen from behind.

The hotel receptionist, Issa, was with me and I said to him, “I swear I see my purse in this car.” We walked to the car and tried to get them to talk to us. They looked at me, and then suddenly they pulled out and started to drive away. We chased after them, yelling at them to stop, but this caused them only to drive faster, speeding away faster than I’d ever seen any car go down that street. At that point, I was nearly convinced it was them. Oscar saw me running after them, shouting and crying, and he took off after the car. Within seconds, everyone around had stopped what they were doing and was chasing after us and the car. The car turned at the end of the street, and I was sure we’d lost them. I was in full-on tears at that point, and was completely unable to deal with the crowd of people coming at us, all sure they’d seen the car, that they knew what was going on, etc. We talked briefly with a tourist policeman and a cab driver, describing the car to them and giving them my name, but we wanted to get back to the hotel and the representative who could help us figure out what to do.

By the time we got back to the hotel, the Apollo rep, Sami, told us he had talked to the police and they had already caught the car! I think the cab driver and policeman we’d talked to had immediately radioed around to everyone the description, but I couldn’t believe how fast they’d caught them. I was in disbelief but also full of hope when they put us in a car and drove us to the small police hut where the car was being held. Three people were being held inside the hut, and Oscar and I both ID’d the woman, but there had been four people in the car when it drove away.

The culprits all claimed they were Italian or Spanish, and that the fourth man was also Italian but they didn’t know him and they couldn’t remember where they had dropped him off, a ridiculous thing to say. We quickly discovered many of their lies. They were Peruvian, and in time the police were able to deduce that they most certainly knew the fourth man (who was, in fact, really Italian). Before we headed to the official police station, they let me look around a little bit in the car to see if I could find anything of mine. This is where the story gets a little bit strange/interesting/funny.

I first looked in the trunk, where there were some bags but nothing of mine. Then in the backseat on the floor I found a lone tampon, which just happened to be the same exact brand and size that I keep in my purse (and is also not the most commonly used tampon, I would say). I felt like I was on CSI as I picked it up and showed off the evidence to the police: “I believe this is mine!” This caused an uproar among everyone, and they told me to quickly put it back where I found it so the evidence would be kept in tact.

We were then driven off to the police station, where everything was complete madness. More and more men were constantly arriving, running around speaking on the phone and to each other in hurried Arabic. It was also quite funny seeing a bunch of Jordanian men passing around a tampon examining it as evidence, and shoving it in the faces of each suspect asking, “Is this for you? No, I didn’t think so! This is for her!”

Our Apollo friend, Sami, and another Apollo rep, Youssef, were both with us, making phone calls around to see what was going to happen next for us. They said there was a chance they could get paperwork together for us to be able to go home without passports and we could still get on the flight up to even ten minutes before it was to leave (the Aqaba airport is absolutely tiny), but it still was quite possible we wouldn’t make it. They told us the court really wanted us to stay to give statements and everything, or else they wouldn’t be able to hold the suspects. Oscar and I definitely didn’t want that to happen, but we had absolutely no money at that point. But our reps told us that if we stayed everything would be taken care of for us: accommodation and a new flight home. So we decided to stay.

First I had to take care of the most important things, like calling my parents to cancel my cards. Then the process of giving my statement began. At least three or four times we began telling our story, but always we were endlessly interrupted and eventually passed off to someone else before we could finish. Finally, though, I was to give my official statement, via a translator. I was ushered into a small room where I faced who they called the judge (really a general prosecutor) and his secretary/typist, speaking to each other through a translator.

It was scary, stressful, and also unbelievably comical. They asked if I was a Christian, and thus my oath was “I swear to tell the truth and nothing than the truth.” Then they offered me a cigarette! Then I began my statement, which began as me just saying what happened, but quickly turned into more of an interrogation. Everything I said, the judge had a rebuttal question. Sometimes he seemed angry at my answers or my reasons for accusing the people, and this put me into a really high stress level. I was in there for at least two hours with constant questioning, also always being interrupted by people coming in and heated conversations in Arabic, often involving a lot of pointing at me though I had no idea what they were saying. Toward the end I completely broke down crying again, but by that point things had become less strict, the door was open, and Oscar was allowed to come in and give me a little bit of support.

View from our hotel room

Finally the interrogation ended, and I was given a number of papers written in Arabic that were apparently my statements, which I had to sign. Then we were loaded back into the car and taken to our hotel for the night. We thought we would probably be back in Aquamarina IV again, but apparently they felt so bad about how upset we were, and what happened in general (we were constantly told that this just doesn’t happen in Jordan — which is believable since, after all, they weren’t even Jordanians who robbed us) that they decided to upgrade us. They put us up in the Mövenpick, a five star hotel, one of the nicest in Aqaba. Not only did we have a great room with one of the best beds I’ve ever slept on and views over the hotel courtyard with ancient city ruins and the Red Sea in the background, but they also gave us half-board, which meant an absolutely incredible buffet for dinner and breakfast.

De-stressing in the jacuzzi

We couldn’t believe how great they were treating us, and it definitely helped to go take a dip in the jacuzzi and pool under the stars on the hotel bridge and try to soak away the stress of the day. And then of course to indulge in the kind of meal we could never have afforded on our own!

The tourist police also stopped in the hotel that evening to discuss with us some things, and again it was hilarious seeing them try to talk about the tampon. The translator kept calling it a “pipe” in English, and when they talked about it to each other (in Arabic) it seemed they weren’t sure of the word for it themselves, so they would have to use gestures (and I’m assuming funny descriptive words) to describe it among each other, and it was hilarious. They were obviously a little embarrassed about it as well, and at one point all of us couldn’t help but break out into laughter about it. Having such special evidence definitely helped lift the mood a little bit.

Chillin' at the beach

The next morning Oscar had to go to the courthouse to give his statement, which was supposed to take only two hours and then we were supposed to be able to get on an afternoon flight to Copenhagen. I took this time to enjoy the benefits of our hotel, going to the beach (a REAL beach!), relaxing in the sauna and jacuzzi, etc. Unfortunately, Oscar wasn’t having as nice of a day. First he had to come back to the hotel and change because he had worn shorts and the judge wouldn’t see him until he was properly dressed. Then the whole thing took a lot longer than anticipated.

He was supposed to be back before 11:30 so we could have plenty of time to catch our flight. By 12:15 I was worried and made a call to Youssef. The most frustrating thing about our entire time in Jordan after the theft was that we never knew what was going on, and we were always the last to know anything. Youssef informed me that things were taking a lot longer than expected, and that also now we would have to go to Amman to get new passports, which meant we wouldn’t be going home for at least a few more days.

Finally around 1:00, Oscar returned to get me and we both went back to the courthouse so I could answer a couple more questions. Then Youssef took us out to lunch, then back to the Mövenpick for another night. By this time, though, we were both so worn out that we didn’t do much but sit in our room and watch TV. And of course eat another huge dinner.

Swan ice sculpture at the hotel restaurant for dinner

The next day we were picked up by a driver and began our journey to Amman. It was a long drive, most of which we had done before to go to the Dead Sea (which had partly turned brown from a ton of rainfall that had washed dirt and mud into the water — we were lucky we had gone when we did and had beautiful clean water!) Amman was freezing cold — rainy and windy and dreary. We agreed it’s not somewhere we’d be too eager to return to, as the city was fairly rundown and dirty, with lots of crazy traffic.

Our first scare was when we were told that on top of the costs of our replacement passports ($100 for mine and over $200 for Oscar’s), we would also have to pay for a flight home from Amman (which would cost about $1500, way more than we’d paid for our entire trip) and accommodation in Amman for the two days until we could get a flight. Of course, Oscar and I didn’t have anywhere near that kind of money, let alone that we could access then. But after some discussion, Apollo agreed to pay for everything, except of course the passports (later we learned it was Youssef, truly the most amazing person, to whom we owe so much). We are forever in debt to Apollo and Youssef for all they did for us. They went far, far above and beyond what they had to do.

The rest of the day was spent running around trying to get our passports. First we went to where the Swedish embassy was supposed to be, but it had moved. When we got to the real one, it wasn’t open yet. We then went to the American embassy (which was huge and surrounded by tanks and machine guns and scary looking soldiers), where they told us we were too late and had to come back the next day (it was only 1:00!) but we insisted and eventually they let me in. We were able to both get our passports right away (though Oscar’s, which cost twice as much as mine, was only valid for one week, while mine is good for a year). But still our flight was not until Wednesday morning, at four a.m. (Though we were given an option of going  back to Aqaba and having accommodation provided until Saturday, when we could get on the next charter flight back to Stockholm. But my Dad was coming in Friday to visit just for two days, and Oscar had a number of things to take care of at home, so we just couldn’t afford to get back to Sweden that late – any other time, though, we would have jumped at the chance to double our vacation for free, except for the fact we couldn’t do much of anything without any extra money.)

And so we were taken to a hotel, Amman International, which was also quite nice (though certainly no Mövenpick) and also included breakfast and dinner. Tuesday we had an entire day with nothing to do. There wasn’t anything in Amman we particularly wanted to see, and as it was our hotel was far from the city center. So we spent almost the entire day in the room watching TV. We needed a day where we could sleep in and de-stress, where nothing was expected of us. Especially since we were getting picked up at one a.m. that night to go to the airport, where we would begin a more than 24 hour journey back home.

We were lucky, in my opinion, that they even got us a room for that night at all. I thought we’d have to check out at noon that day and have to find some way to kill the next 13 hours until we went to the airport. But we were able to get a few hours of sleep that night (cerainly not enough, though). Then it was off to the airport.

At first things were fine. We checked in and checked our bags. Then there was immigration. Of course our passports had no stamps from our entry into Jordan, and no one had said anything to us about having to do anything once we got our passports. But not having a stamp was a big problem for immigration. There was a lot of debate, a lot of different men taking our passports and disappearing to various places to talk about what to do. At one point they told us we’d have to go to some office downtown to get a stamp. But we were not missing that flight, especially after all the trouble we had to go through to get it (and paid for –which I’m sure we wouldn’t be able to convince anyone to do for us again). Finally they allowed us to pass immigration, though we also had to pay a 20JD exit tax, which was pretty much all the money we had left from our emergency passport money withdrawal, and which we had hoped to be able to spend on food and water.

Lucky for us, we weren’t back on an SAS charter flight where all food and drink costs an arm and a leg. Instead we were on Malev, a Hungarian airline, which was wonderful because they served us both free beverages and a sandwich! We couldn’t believe our fortune! Well, to an extent.  That was only the beginning of our trip home. Then we landed in Budapest at about six a.m. and we had 12 hours until our flight to Stockholm. Twelve hours in a small airport with no money. At least it had free wifi so we could distract ourselves with brief stints on the internet on Oscar’s iphone, and I had a deck of cards so we spent a lot of time playing card games. For almost the entire time we thought we had absolutely no money, so were incredibly hungry and thirsty, then we discovered Oscar did have a little bit more money left that we could access, so we were able to at least treat ourselves to some food! But it was a very, very long 12 hours, especially since we were both exhausted, sleep-deprived, and desperate to be home and away from all the madness that had been our lives for the past four days.

Luckily, our flight wasn’t delayed, and we were in Stockholm just a little after 8:30 and didn’t have to wait too long for our bags. Unluckily, there was only one more bus to Jönköping that night, at 10:55, and we ended up on the absolute slowest bus into the city ever. We sat for 25 minutes while the driver let everyone at the stop on (instead of letting some of them get on the next buses, which come every ten minutes and instead just passed our bus by and made it to the city before us!). It had just snowed also, so the driving was slow and frustrating. We made it to the central station just in time to make the bus, and were happy to finally be really almost home, but were exhausted and arrived to Jönköping at four a.m., exactly 24 hours after we’d left Amman, to a bitterly cold and windy night.

And so that’s the summary of our extended post-theft time in Jordan, and our long journey home. Even days later I’m still catching up on sleep (and still trying to get over the loss of my third camera and amazingamazingamazing photos, not to mention my passport that I had just added pages to, with visas and stamps from all over Europe, Asia, Oz/NZ, and South America, from Morocco to Bolivia, special stamps from Machu Picchu and the Galapagos, student visas from Italy and Thailand, etc.)

Well, that’s our story, and I’m sticking to it. (Oh, and they still haven’t found the missing Italian guy, but they know his name and if he tries to leave the country they’ll stop him.)

Some exciting news!

Many flavors of polkagris

Well, we were going to book a cheap flight to somewhere in Europe and take a bit of a vacation together to escape the cold, dark Swedish winter. But we had a slight change of plans when Oscar found a really cheap last-minute flight/hotel package to Jordan! For less than the cost of a typical flight alone! So we’re really excited, and a week from now I’ll be in the Middle East (!), snorkeling in the Red Sea, exploring the ancient (world wonder) city of Petra, and floating in the Dead Sea. Can you believe it?

In other news, we’ve been doing a little siteseeing here in Sweden. The other day we visited Gränna, home of Amalia Eriksson and Salomon August Andrée, inventor of the candy cane and polar explorer, respectively.

First we visited a candy cane factory, or polkagris as they call it here. I couldn’t believe how many flavors of candy canes they had! And they came in all kinds of huge sizes, as well. They had all kinds of strange flavors, from chili and chocolate, to passionfruit, to banana, raspberry, tutti frutti, and much more.

Making polkagris

After browsing the flavors (and the other candy the shop had, because Swedes really, really love their candy), we got to see them actually making the polkagris. They start with a huge chunk of…whatever it is they’re made of. They roll it around, then they add the flavors. Then they roll it and twist it around. Then they cut  it in two, rolling and twisting some more, and they continue this until they have many more reasonable sized candy cane sticks. It was really interesting to see.

After we’d had our fill of the polkagris factory, we headed into downtown Gränna to visit the Gränna/Polar Exploration museum. First we saw a number of Viking relics, everything from ancient runes to swords, jewelry, and other artifacts. I even learned how to write my name using old Viking runes.

Polar explorer Oscar

The downstairs of the museum was devoted to polar exploration, mainly the journey of Andrée. In 1897 he died trying to fly a hot air balloon to the North Pole. The museum had a lot of artifacts and photos they’d found from the expedition. It also had some stuff from other journeys to the North Pole and Antarctica.

The rest of the month is shaping up nicely. On Wednesday Oscar needs to go to Gothenburg to make a presentation at Volvo, so I’m thinking about maybe hitting up the Museum of World Culture there, it sounds right up my alley.

Then probably Friday we’ll head up to Stockholm, flying out Saturday morning to Jordan! A week there, then back to Sweden, and a week later Dad will be in to visit. A few days after he leaves, Travis will be arriving in Stockholm, and we’ll be doing some siteseeing up there.

Then…who knows, but it’s nice to have some things planned for the near future! (Now I just have to go buy some warm-weather clothing for Jordan — I didn’t think to pack for such an occasion!)

The candy section at the supermarket -- like I said, Swedes are obsessed with their candy!

The cool checkout devices at ICA that I mentioned in a previous post

Christmas, New Year’s, and more in Sverige

On 24 December, or Christmas Eve as we’d call it at home, I celebrated Christmas (as this is the day they do that!) with Oscar’s family. We gathered around noon, sitting in the living room chatting and drinking glögg (pronounced like “glug”), a traditional Swedish holiday beverage. It’s similar to a mulled wine, but ours was a special kind that was nearly clear, and apparently Oscar’s dad mixed some whisky and/or rum in it as well. It was a bit strong! They also put raisins and nuts in the drink, though I settled for chasing it with bites of Swedish gingerbread instead.

Santa has arrived!

After some more relaxing (including Oscar using a world atlas to quiz his brother Eric’s and my knowledge on world capitals, haha!) we moved into the dining room for the big Christmas meal. Oscar’s mom had prepared a ton of food, which we were free to grab at will in a buffet-style. There was a huge variety, including lots of fish like herring and salmon, potato au gratin, meatballs, sausage, many varieties of cheese, and much more.

We spent an hour or two eating and talking at the table. Lucky for me, everyone in Oscar’s family was eager to talk to me and not shy about practicing their English on me (of course they were all excellent at English, except for the kids who haven’t started learning it yet in school). We also got to get on Skype and video-call with my mom. Unfortunately the connection wasn’t that great (she couldn’t hear us a lot of the time), but Mom got to see everyone in the family and they got to see her (and Morgan!)

Then it was time for the Swedish tradition of watching the Donald Duck Christmas cartoon on TV. It was dubbed in Swedish so I only watched a bit of it before going to take a short nap! After that, though, it was finally time for Santa to come!

Yes, in Sweden Santa actually comes to your house and hands out the presents. In the past Santa has been Oscar, Oscar’s dad, or one of his brothers. This year, Oscar’s nephew Anton was Santa. He came to the door decked out in full Santa-gear, and he and the other kids began handing out the gifts.

Wearing my Christmas gift from Oscar

I got some funny ski masks for the kids with silly faces on them, which they seemed to enjoy. I gave Oscar one of the cholitas wrestling masks, which led to a giant Lennings family wrestling match! Very funny.

I also received a lot of Swedish survival gifts — everything from a toiletry kit, to a Swedish-English dictionary, to a Sweden pictorial book. And from Oscar I got “THE” Christmas gift in Sweden this year: an acupuncture mat! (The spikes are plastic-y, like the bottom of golf shoes, I think?)

I also got a really amazing dress from him (see photo) and a beautiful necklace from his parents. And some other things; they were all so lovely to me like I was just like family!

After opening gifts, it turns into a day much like Christmas at home, everyone splitting off to chat or play with their new toys. I sat and talked with pretty much everyone, and played Wii Baseball with the kids (until Oscar accidentally hit me in the eye with the controller when he was up to bat!)

Slowly the party died down as everyone slowly left to go home, though Oscar and I stayed the night at his parent’s house. His mom even brought us breakfast in bed the next morning (as baby of the family, he is definitely a mama’s boy! haha)

Oscar looking good in a leather jacket

We spent the rest of the 25th back at Oscar’s, relaxing and talking a bit on Skype with my family for our Christmas. Apparently Christmas is actually a big party day in Sweden, where most people go out to the bar or clubs or to parties. We were a bit tired and I was still quite jetlagged, though, so instead we spent a lot of time watching TV. A lot of it is in English, with Swedish subtitles, which has been helping me with learning new Swedish words and phrases.

The day after Christmas is a huge sale (“REA”) day in Sweden, so we went out to check out the deals. Jönköping is a pretty small city, so from Oscar’s apartment we have to just cross a park to get to a big area of stores. Oscar said it was less busy than he’d expected it to be, but it was still quite crowded, with lines zig zagging all through the stores.

We also went to the mall, looking at digital SLRs we wished we could afford and trying to convince each other to dress in the manner of each other’s very opposing tastes…didn’t work LOL Though we did find a really cool leather jacket that Oscar actually did like (but was obviously way to expensive!)

The next day we went and visited some of Oscar’s friends, who live just down the street. One of his friends had just returned from a semester in Australia so he showed us pictures from his time there. He visited mostly different places than I have, so it was cool to see pictures of new places.

Kebab pizza

On the way back we picked up a kebab-pizza, one of the many foods Oscar  had talked nonstop about when he was in the U.S. It seems to be a creation not found anywhere else but in Sweden, and Oscar claims it’s the best in this part. We ordered a “special kebab pizza,” which meant that there were fries on it as well, in addition to the normal ingredients of kebab meat, onions, lettuce, tomato, cheese, tomato sauce, and a special kebab sauce. It’s really delicious, if not the healthiest. (Funny note: I was asking Oscar to confirm what the toppings were, and he just decided he wanted some and called to order a pizza! It’s a bit addictive.)

Another thing he loves is Max, which is Sweden’s most popular fast food chain. It’s a really cool restaurant because they are really progressive and they also offer a lot of healthier and more eco-friendly alternatives. They actually feature the carbon footprint, and also offset their carbon emissions.

They are also the first hamburger place I’ve heard of that’s actually trying to encourage their customers to eat less meat or beef (by offering things falafel burgers and soy burgers) to help the environment. They offer a huge variety of interesting food you can order; it makes it hard to decide what to order!

Max also offers something like 14 different dipping sauces you can order, staying true to the stereotype that Swedes really love their sauces! And inside the restaurant they have a microwave (which Oscar says is for people to heat up their baby’s food when they’re eating there? Who thinks of stuff like that?!), a coffee machine for customers to get free coffee after their meal, and special recycling by the trash for everything (Oscar says even McDonalds has recycling here). Very different from in the States! They also charge 10kr (approximately $1.50) for refills — one thing that is still great about the U.S.

Jönköping

Speaking of differences, there was another interesting thing at the big supermarket here (called ICA). There they have this wall of these small devices that (if you are a member) you can take around the store with you and scan things as you put them in your cart. Then in the end, everything is scanned and you just pay and leave. Super self-checkout! I think we will give it a try next time we go to do some shopping.

One other thing is Sweden’s obsession with coffee. In the States coffee is a big thing, but I think of it more (and maybe this is just because I don’t drink coffee) as something you drink at home before work, and then maybe meet friends for on occasion.

But here, they drink coffee at least five or six times a day, and it’s very social. At work they have coffee breaks where they all meet to drink coffee together. Everytime I’ve visited someone’s home, the first thing they have offered me is coffee, and usually I’m the only person that doesn’t have it.

So the week continued with a lot of relaxing, eating, and seeing bits of Jönköping. We also had lunch at Oscar’s parents the day before New Year’s Eve, where his mom made this really delicious meal. I’m not even sure what it was, but without knowing it she had created a casserole full of all my favorite things, which I never thought would be put together in any way except on a random created-by-me pizza (this included broccoli, pineapple, and lots of cheese!).

His parents also shared various stories with me, even showing me pictures of the camaro Oscar’s dad bought when he visited the States back in the 70’s!

Moose!

On New Year’s Eve, we still didn’t know what we were going to do (mostly my fault because I took too long to decide which party we should go to — it’s not like I really knew any of the people anyways!) We decided to make oreo pie for whichever party we went to, so Oscar headed out to find a place that was still open in order to buy some last minute ingredients for the recipe.

When he came back he also brought a bunch of what he calls beer sausage, but looks a lot like beef jerky. There was a moose one which I of course had to try — and it was incredibly good! He bought four “sausages” of different kinds and we devoured them all right away. I think I’ve found a new addiction.

Not to mention they’re the perfect snack for traveling since they’re packaged and don’t need to refrigerated or prepared. Basically, it’s beef jerky but better! So I was a bit sad today because everything was closed and we couldn’t go buy more!

Up on the roof (freezing!) to watch fireworks at midnight

All dressed up for New Year's Eve

Anyways, we eventually ended up at a small party with some of Oscar’s friends, who were all very nice though I have to admit it was less of a party than I expected (we were the only ones really dressed up). The highlight was definitely midnight, when we went up to the roof of his friend’s building and watched people set off fireworks all over the city. It was really awesome!

HAPPY 2010!

The (Long) Journey to Sweden

My journey began the night of Sunday, the 20th of December. I was to fly from Cleveland to Chicago, then on a direct flight to Copenhagen, then on another connection to Gothenburg. Well, I sat in the Cleveland-Hopkins airport for almost five hours as my flight was delayed and delayed. Eventually it came to be delayed three hours, which meant that despite (originally) having a nearly three hour layover in Chicago, I would miss my flight to Denmark.

And so, with anger and tears, I got my bags back, thanked my mom for coming back to the airport to pick me up, and went back home. My dad spent an hour wrangling on the phone with the people at United trying to find the fastest way I could get to Sweden. Unfortunately, it was apparent that if you bought your ticket with air miles they will only be so helpful, even if it is Christmas. If United, Lufthansa, SAS, or any of these airlines would have been a little kinder and bent the rules a little bit to let me on any of the numerous other flights to Denmark or Sweden that were departing, I would have been here MUCH faster. But they refused and put me on this ridiculous route which took twice as long. And I just wanted to call them out on it.

So, dark and early the next morning at around 5am I was off to the airport again (I had only just left it at around 9pm the night before!) and ready to board my 7am flight to Chicago. From there I got off the plane and literally reboarded the same plane twenty minutes later and flew to Washington-Dulles. There I sat for approximately six hours, but at least I was able to use the lounge and get on the internet for a bit and try to waste time by watching a movie on my laptop.

That evening I was back on a plane and off to Amsterdam. I arrived at about 8am (a bit later than scheduled) and went to pick up my bags. I was intended to have a ten hour layover in Amsterdam, and that was something I could not accept. So I had only checked my bags through to Amsterdam and was convinced I would be able to get something earlier out to Copenhagen. I knew that there was an earlier SAS flight to Copenhagen, the exact flight I was supposed to have at 5:15 but just six hours earlier, and they had refused to put me on it but I knew that when I’d left Washington there had been free seats. When I asked at the counter, checking in for my 5:15pm flight at 8am, they told me there were no available seats and I could not fly standby, nor was there any other possible way I could be on that flight. I was pretty furious.

And so I spent the next many, many hours at Amsterdam Schiphol airport, where internet costs 6 Euros for a half hour. What an outrage! The whole airport is like a giant mall where they are trying to get you to drop wads of Euros on anything and everything over the sun. And there are millions of people, it’s a total zoo. Luckily I eventually discovered that I could enter one of the lounges (though even there wifi cost an arm and a leg!) where they offered free wine, beer, alcohol, soft drinks, snacks, etc. This greatly improved my long way as I sat and read and had a few glasses of wine. That is, until I went to my gate at the supposed boarding time of 4:45, only to find that my flight had been delayed an hour. Which later turned into the plane (coming from Denmark, where they’d just had a blizzard, apparently) would “hopefully” arrive at the delay-time of 6:15.

I think the plane eventually arrived at about 6:30 or 6:45. We were probably off the runway around 7:30 or so. An hour later we were FINALLY landing in Copenhagen. I was so thankful I had decided to skip out on my connecting flight to Gothernburg (I would have missed it) but unfortunately that meant Oscar had driven 3 1/2 hours to Copenhagen to pick me up, only to sit around the city for ten hours (in our hopes that I would get the earlier flight). Of course, then, I waited nearly 45 minutes for my bags to come out on the carousel, but finally they did and I was able to run out the customs doors into the arms of my long-lost boyfriend Oscar!

It was a great moment, and it took us a while to make it just the few hundred meters out of the airport because we kept stopping to make sure we were both really there. Unfortunately, we still had what would be a more than four hour drive back to Jönköping due to the snow-covered roads, but at least we were finally together. I was well over a day late, but I was finally here. Although it took a good 32 or so hours to do it (47 if you count from when I first started trying to leave!)

But I’m here!

Hello (and goodbye) again!

Well, after nearly two weeks I’m finally adjusting back to the simple things like people speaking to me in English, throwing toilet paper in the toilet, using a credit card for everything, driving a car, having a cell phone, watching TV in bed, and having access to everything I own at almost all times. So obviously it’s about time to shake things up again!

I’m back to packing my bags — this time a WHOLE lot more than a few changes of clothes in a backpack. Packing for two months living in one (COLD) place, where I’ll see the same people every day (including people I’d like to look fairly nice in front of, i.e. my boyfriend and his friends and family) requires a very different method and variety of amenities. I’d like to look a little more Euro chic than grungy backpacker, especially on occasions like Christmas (Eve — since the Swedes celebrate it on the 24th ) and New Year’s.

So I’m lugging along a lot more luggage, my mode of transport is way more high class (thanks Dad!), and my accomodation will be much more homey, comfortable, and stable. But I’m sure there will still be plenty of stories to tell — from complaints on the weather to the dish on Swedish holiday traditions, I’ll do my best to keep you updated. Surely posts will be less frequent then they were on my nonstop South American adventures, but the adventures aren’t over yet! Keep checking and I’m sure sometime next week I’ll have something up on my arrival and first thoughts and observations of Sweden.

Back to the States

So I’m sitting here in the Houston airport with two more hours to kill, and free wifi as a Christmas gift from Boingo! It’s amazing how I’ve been back in the States for just an hour or two now and already I’m in shock at all these small but striking differences.

For one, I can throw the toilet paper in the toilet….WHAT? I think I’ll still be throwing it in the trash for a while now.

And I had totally forgotten this amazing concept….They give you FREE WATER at restaurants? I came in to a diner for a (severely overpriced) milkshake and they brought me this giant glass of water. At first I was like, huh? I didn’t order this! Oh WAIT. Awesome!

The milkshake? WAS HUGE. And they bring you the remainder (which is basically an entire other milkshake). I forgot about the whole big portion thing here in the States.

Christmas is EVERYWHERE. In Quito they had some tinsel at the airport, and I saw a Christmas tree in a nice hotel once. But that’s about it. Here, Christmas music is playing everywhere, the waitresses are wearing Santa hats and there are wreathes and tinsel and little Christmas decorations everywhere.

But the best thing? Having a cell phone! I was starting to miss it since most of the people I  hung out in Quito had mobiles since they were mostly spending extended time living in South America. But having my old phone back…It feels so weird in my hands. And I turned it on and it immediately started making very loud, obnoxious noises…TEXTS! It was nice to know the people thinking of me, texting me so I’d get them when I arrived and turned my phone on. And then it was a kind of funny feeling to be whipping my thumbs around on a tiny keypad, sending texts back at lightning speed. Oh, the simple thrills in life!

One disappointment, that is basically Houston’s fault: where’s my fast food? I’ve had these sad fantasies of arriving to the airport here and trying to decide which fast food to have first. I had it all planned. If there’s a Burger King I’m definitely getting the fries from there. Wendy’s I would at least have to get a Frosty. KFC, definitely wedges. If there’s a Subway, a chocolate chip cookie is a definite must and a sub, too, if I’m in the mood.

Then I got to the airport. Despite having vending machines for everything under the sun (Best Buy, Sephora, and, most randomly, Proactiv), the only fast food place is China Wok! What a disappointment. The only other options were $10+ sandwiches and gourmet food from the stupid stereotypical airport cafeterias or express carts. This was also a reminder that I was back to US prices – boo! Though of course airports are always overpriced on top of it anyways. I think I spent more today just buying a bottled water, dark chocolate M&Ms, a China Wok combo and a milkshake than I did on a typical entire day in South America (with accommodation!). The milkshake alone would be an entire day’s food budget. Yikes!

On an unrelated note, I should add that Quito’s airport sucks and if you’re ever flying out of there you should know a couple things.

First, the airport tax is now $40.80. I swear I read it was $25 when I left three months ago.

Second, if you buy a water in the airport at any time (even after security) and think you can take it into the gate or on the plane with you, you are mistaken. They check your bags before you enter the gate waiting area, and they won’t let you bring bottled water in. Doesn’t matter if you just bought it in the food court and its unopened. Too bad. I had to chug my bottle (which I dropped $1.50 on there – about five times the regular price) before I entered the gate. And then had to pee like crazy by the time I was on the plane (there’s no bathroom in the gate area). Boo UIO.

In other news, my last days in Quito were great. My hostel, Blue House, is basically like a big family, and I always had someone to hang out with. We all got on really well, and I was sad to have to say goodbye to them. We had a great time celebrating the end of Quito’s big fiesta, dancing the night away with each other and a bunch of Quiteños as well!

Seeing family and celebrating Christmastime at home will be very nice, though, and soon enough off to Sweden — the adventure continues!

Last days in South America!

WARNING: Contains some gruesome content/photos (bullfighting).

I had big plans for my last days in South America, but the truth is after two weeks of going at it nonstop in the Galapagos and the jungle, and knowing I’m so close to going home, I’ve lost a bit of motivation and just become a bit tired. Especially after more than a month of traveling with others — the Aussie gals and then tour groups — it was harder to motivate myself to get up early, get a cab by myself, get a bus, find a hostel in a new place, etc. all when I still had to come back to Quito.

So after a couple mornings of being too tired to get up early for a bus (I had originally hoped I could find a daytrip so I wouldn’t have to really worry about any of the transport and details on my own), I gave up on my aspirations of going to the cloudforest in Mindo (even though I had been wanting to do the ziplining since I first planned this trip — I’ll just have to wait til I do a trip in Central America one day, where it’s supposed to be better anyways) and the markets in Otavalo (I settled for the markets in Quito instead).

My first day in Quito was supposed to be one of relaxation, but I felt a bit stressed and lonely. I was dealing with quite a transition after the past two whirlwind weeks, and I spent most of the day in bed on the computer. That and running back and forth to the agency trying to see if I was going to get a refund for my cruise or not. (In the past few days I’ve gone in there at least four or five times. FINALLY today I went in and they said, “I have some money for you!” My happiness was great, and doubled when they handed me $125! Woo! Now I don’t have to make another trip to the ATM before I leave!)

I had a whiny conversation on Skype with Oscar about how I just wanted to go home now and I didn’t feel like making any effort to go anywhere or meet anyone. He said to me, “Oh no, you’ll get off the computer and go to the common room and meet someone tonight, I know it.” And I said, “No, no. I don’t even want to meet anyone. I don’t even want to get out of bed.”

Well, of course he was mostly right. I didn’t have to get out of bed, but one of my fellow dorm mates, Claire, came in and we started talking, and she invited me to some bull fights the next day. But I did stay in bed the rest of that day…ha! I just couldn’t be bothered to do anything, I was so burnt out.

(It was a loud night though. Ecuador was playing Brazil and they had won the first game and needed to win or lose by less than four goals. They lost by three — so they won overall — which meant that everyone was out in the streets yelling and cheering and going crazy. I was glad I didn’t go out, because everyone came back telling stories of how dangerous it was, the fights and thefts they witnessed in front of their eyes. Even one gigantic British guy — close to 6 1/2 feet tall, and big, someone you wouldn’t mess with — said he got jumped by a couple guys!)

Bullfight

Then on Thursday I headed off to the bullfights with a group of four other people from the hostel. The sun was blazing down on us, but I was happy for it because I want to make sure I keep a bit of a tan until I get home!

The bullfight itself…I’m not sure how I feel about it. Claire loves them (she’d been to one that week already and is at another one today) and sees it as an artform, but I think the rest of us had mixed feelings. I’m glad I went, and I chock it up as a cultural experience, but I think it was actually even worse than I’d imagined.

Bullfighting team

They really do torture the bull, and it’s a bit shocking to actually watch an animal die before your eyes. Plus the bullfighters, to me, seem like haughty jerks. Just the way they stand, strut around, taunt the bull…all of it is this obnoxious show where they think they’re hot stuff, but I think they’re just full of it.

There were six fights in total. I had always thought it was just a showdown between a matador and a bull. Not so. There is the main bullfighter, but there are also a number of other “distracting” bullfighters. They run around waving their capes at the bull trying to confuse it, but then always run and hide behind this little gate so he can’t get to them and gets frustrated. Then two men on horses come out and the bull goes for the horses (who are blinded of course) while the men stab at the bull.

Main bullfighter

Then either the main bullfighter or another one comes out with two hooked batons and has to hook them into the bull’s back. He does this twice, so the bull has four of them in his back. So now the bull is bleeding and starting to get tired and distressed. At this point the very first bull that went on actually somehow totally broke/disconnected the bottom part of his foot (kind of like below the ankle, I guess). It was a bit disturbing, to say the least.

Then the main bullfighter comes out. He has a sword, and he spends what seems like FOREVER whipping his cape around getting the bull to run here and there until he’s exhausted. I have to admit, I was secretly always hoping the bull would be a bit of a smarter one and realize that there’s a person one inch away from the cape that he could go after, but they never did. Finally the bullfighter stabs the bull in the neck/back. Sometimes he has to do it a couple times if the sword doesn’t stay.

Dragging away the bull

Then everyone’s cheering like crazy (I think we all kind of just stared in a kind of gruesome shock). The bull lays/collapses down, usually coughing up blood at this point. Then a guy comes out with a small dagger and stabs it in the neck somewhere that kills it instantly. Then the horses come out and drag him away.

So, you can judge by how it sounds as to how you’d feel about a bullfight. I can’t believe PETA wasn’t protesting outside!

At the bullfight with some hostel friends

The bullfights are just one part of a larger celebration here in Quito right now. Sunday is Founder’s Day, and here they begin celebrating the week before. So all week there have been bullfights and parades every day. As we approached the weekend, there’s more and more parades and dancing and singing in the street. Everyone is out on the streets, at restaurants, bars, etc. And they have these open-air party buses called chivas that everyone rides around in, blasting music and having a great time. It’s definitely an eternally festive air here in Quito.

I also attended a bear charity/benefit event the other night with some people from the hostel. They had a raffle (sadly, I didn’t win anything) and it was a good atmosphere. Lots of fun, and I got to bond with my hostel-mates a bit.

Today I went to do some last-minute souvenir shopping in the market here in Quito. It’s been nice just relaxing, catching up on sleep, having some time to be on the internet, and just hanging out with new friends here in Quito.

Tonight is basically my last night, as I have an early morning on Monday for my flight, so I’m sure we’ll do something special (well, every night is always someone’s last night!), not to mention that it’s one of the biggest days of Quito’s celebrations, and I’ll have tomorrow to soak in my last bit of South America. But I’m excited about going home as well, and every time I see a plane fly overheard I get a little bit more excited.

I know that after a while (though I’m getting to drag it out a bit since I’m only two weeks at home, then off to Sweden to see my Oscar which won’t get old very quickly!) I’ll miss my time here, but one thing I’ve realized on this trip is that traveling is in my blood, and I’ll always find ways to make another trip happen. You meet so many people on the road with different stories and situations, and you realize that anything is possible!

Welcome to the jungle

This guy liked to pose for the camera!

Last Thursday night, after I arrived back from the Galapagos and had a Thanksgiving dinner, my Dutch friend Maaike and I boarded a night bus to Lago Agrio. I also again ran into the Kiwi guy that I have been running into for the past month, as he’s been on the same route but about a day behind (and also went the Galapagos the same day as me, but on a shorter cruise) and he was of course on the same jungle tour as well!

Once we arrived in Lago Agrio the next morning we had a few hours to wait before we were picked up. Then it was the beginning (or continuation) of one very long day of travel. First we went in a truck for nearly three hours, half of which were on an unpaved road, to get to the port. It was a long drive.

Parrot

Then we had a small lunch at the port (where there were some cute macaws and parrots hanging out!) and loaded into the motorized canoe that was to take us to our lodge. As my luck goes with jungle trips, it poured rain for the entire first half of the three hour boat ride. Luckily we were provided with ponchos, but that didn’t help the fact that we were going directly into the rain and it was pounding against our faces!

After a week in the Galapagos, I had grown so used to seeing animals everywhere, that it was hard for me to grasp that it’s not so easy in the jungle. I kept thinking I saw animals, but in the end it was always a log or something like that! And then when you do see animals, they’re often far and difficult to see, and definitely not so easy to photograph!

Nicky Amazon Lodge

Finally we did arrive to the lodge. We were at the Nicky Amazon Lodge, apparently the only lodge you can book in Quito that is in the middle of the Cuyabeno Reserve and not on the edge of it. It’s used solely by the company Dracaena. It’s funny, actually, because when I had gone around looking at jungle tours before, this one was the only one that sounded a bit different and more interesting, but it was also $40 more than the other ones. But Maaike (and so I in turn) had booked it at another agency other than Dracaena — in fact one right around the corner — for the same price as all the other tours. Funny!

The lodge was empty when we got there and our group was only nine people. The lodge had seven cabins, each with two rooms that could hold up to three people. So they told us we could spread out, and all four of us that were solo-ers got to have our own rooms! I was excited to be able to have a huge double bed, but of course it ended up being a paper thin mattress and uncomfortable — but what should I expect in the jungle!

Giant dragonfly

Overall it was very basic; only cold water (which is OK in the sticky heat of the jungle), no fans or a/c, no electricity at all (except for one solar-powered outlet area where we could charge batteries). That pretty much meant early bedtimes and lots of lounging in the hammocks in the main area, reading by candlelight.

The biggest downside was that it was harder to see and avoid bugs in the dark, and of course my flashlight decided to semi-break the second time I used it on the first day (it is a headlamp, but the button broke and you had to hold the button down to keep it on, which gets a bit painful and annoying, and totally defeats the purpose of having a headlamp!)

Boa spotted on the night walk

Anyways, the jungle trip started out with a lot of flashbacks. The canoe ride definitely had me thinking of my trip in Iquitos a few years ago. And the huts, mosquito nets, and hammocks all had me thinking of Southeast Asia.

Our first night we went on a short night walk in the jungle outside the camp. Here we finally saw some animals (though mostly a far cry from the cute and friendly sorts you see in the Galapagos!)

First we spotted a tarantula hanging out on a tree right outside our camp. This was followed by numerous other insect spottings: stick bugs, leaf bugs, cicadas, giant dragonflies, huge millipedes/centipedes, ants carrying leaves, etc. And plenty, plenty, plenty of spiders. I’m really just not a fan of spiders, and in the jungle they are big and they are everywhere. (Including in my hair one night when I was changing for bed!)

Cute lizard from the night walk

We also saw a snake, some frogs, lizards/iguanas, and some other things. An interesting night walk, especially with the sounds of the jungle echoing around you. In the jungle, the sounds of monkeys and birds are constantly going all around you. It’s pretty nice.

The next day we planned to get up early to go to a salt lick to see parrots, but it started to rain so we had a lazy morning napping in hammocks until later in the day when we went on another walk in the jungle down the river.

Frog from the night walk

On the boat ride over (and all our rides on the river really) we saw tons of birds flying around — macaws, toucans, parrots, etc. But they are always far away, flying high above or sitting up high in trees so it’s impossible to get a picture of them. There was one interesting bird that can make fifteen different sounds, including sounds like a monkey and sounds like water dripping! We also saw some monkeys (I think in the whole trip we saw three or four different species) in the surrounding trees as we were in the boat, but again they try to stay mostly out of view. I wish I had brought binoculars!

Our native guide making a backpack out of leaves.

Then we went on a hike in the jungle. There we saw all kinds of interesting plants and huge trees. We had a bilingual guide and a native guide, and the native guide showed us all kinds of interesting things about the jungle and how the indigenous people use it. Plants that cure this and that, giant tree roots that you can drink fresh (delicious and cold!) water from, and he also showed us how they use leaves to make things like crowns (used in wedding ceremonies) and backpacks!

We also saw plenty more insects — ants, centipedes, and some beautiful butterflies as well. There was one giant blue butterfly that we saw everywhere during the trip that was absolutely beautiful, but impossible to photograph!

Piranha fishing

I was starting to get a bit sick of the jungle though, wondering how I was going to make it through three more days! Mostly it was the bugs — you just cannot escape them. And despite my best efforts, I still had plenty of mosquito bites everywhere. Plus my room was basically all open; the roof is raised a foot above where the walls end, and my door didn’t even close all the way.

In our free time I liked to lay and nap or read in the hammock on my porch or a hammock in the main common area, but these loud obnoxious flies would buzz loudly all around you, driving me insane! I was also a bit anxious to sleep in a decent bed, take a hot shower, and just be away from the bland tour food and be able to eat whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted again!

I caught one! (First of three!)

I was feeling better about things though in the afternoon  when we went piranha fishing, using big sticks with fishing line and cut up pieces of meat. Maaike caught the first piranha, and I went on to catch three! I caught the most, with everyone else only catching one or none. It was actually pretty fun.

On the way back from piranha fishing we took our time and did some caiman spotting. At one point we pulled off to the side and our native guide caught a caiman and showed him off. Later we spotted a turtle and stopped off to look at it. It had just dug a nest and had laid eggs, and the guide picked the turtle up and picked out an egg to show us.

Caiman

I was pretty bothered by this, I don’t really feel like they should be handling the animals, especially a turtle laying eggs! Apparently, though, the government here pays locals to go collect the eggs (supposedly so they aren’t eaten by predators) and hatch them in their communities, then they get 25 cents for each turtle. When we visited a community the next day we did see the big areas where they keep they keep the eggs/turtles.

Kichwa community

The next day we were up bright and early for another chance to go visit the salt lick. It wasn’t quite what I expected, as it wasn’t quite as visible as I’ve seen pictures of other ones being. It looked like we were just stopped in front of a bunch of trees. There were a ton of parrots though, flying in and out of the area in huge numbers. But again we couldn’t get that close, you could hardly even tell the color of them flying up above against the sky.

Kichwa kids

Then we went to visit a local Kichwa community. We were going to visit the school, but it was Sunday so of course it was empty.

We found a bunch of kids playing soccer (with a big chunk of styrofoam!) in the main recreation area. A few of the people in our group joined them (they did find a real ball eventually).

It was interesting to visit the community and compare it with the one I’d visited in Iquitos. They were pretty different. This one was much smaller, and there were hardly any people around. I didn’t see any adults really, just lots of (really adorable!) kids. Who of course loved having their picture taken and getting to see themselves on the digital cameras.

Adorable Kichwa girls

But they community is not so isolated as you’d think. Yes, they have to go three hours in boat and three hours by car just to get to the nearest city, but they have solar powered electricity and television and computers with Internet (well, they did but apparently they weren’t there anymore when we visited).

Our super cute monkey friend

Then we went to another area down the river where a family lives on a yucca/cocoa plantation, in a house away from the community. We had a nice little visitor then, an adorable monkey that comes and goes as it pleases.

He was a hungry little mono, but also not wanting to get too close to us, so he’d run around up on the rafters looking for food. At lunch he would take advantage of anyone who had their plate on the floor and run over and grab a handful of rice. In the end we set out some leftover fruit for him to eat. He was so cute, sitting there eating it right in front of us but kind of looking around afraid he’d get caught!

Making yucca bread

Then the family took us out and showed us how they harvest the yucca (a root, a bit like potato) and then how they make yucca bread out of it. It was really interesting; they make it using only yucca, nothing else is added. It’s a thin tortilla-like bread that is really delicious. They made tons of it for us and let us try it in different ways — with salt, sugar, marmalade, etc.

Scary tower

We took a short break at the lodge after this (it was the first blue-sky/sunny day and it was extra hot!) and then went out to this tower in the jungle to watch the sunset.

The tower, which is built around (but not attached to) a giant tree, is apparently 15 years old and was a bit terrifying to climb. It shook a lot and you can see clearly from the ground that it has a strange lean to it.

Parts were rotten or falling off, and I was definitely grateful to make it up and down without having any steps collapse beneath me!

At the top of the tower

The view from the top was nice, though. We were up high, and could see all the trees going out all around us, and a lovely sunset as well.

In fact, from the tower and during the boat ride back I probably took like a hundred pictures of the sunset, it was so gorgeous.

The next day was our last full day in the jungle (and a few people left who had only done a four day tour). We first went on a two hour walk in the jungle, but it was pretty uneventful and we didn’t really see any interesting plants or animals. We had a lot of  free time to relax in the middle of the day, which I didn’t mind. It was nice to just relax in my hammock and listen to the jungle around me, enjoy the warmth of the air with a slight breeze. Try to ignore the flies!

Hanging on the hammock

In the afternoon we went out paddling (I think really this was just because both the motorized canoes were in use!) which wasn’t the most comfortable experience. One boat was basically sinking so they had to constantly bail out water, and our boat was just wooden benches very close to the floor so your knees were in your face and your butt was sore after just 15 minutes!

We paddled around a bit then went to do some more fishing. Eventually our two boats split up and the other boat (who had the native guide who is apparently specialized in fishing) went on to catch tons of piranha and catfish, which they cooked along with dinner that night. Our boat had much less luck (I caught one tiny catfish, no one else caught anything). But we did see some pink dolphins (which we had seen a couple times already, but they were closer and more active this time).

Piranha!

The next day our time in the jungle was done. I admittedly was pretty happy to get on the canoe and go. Of course, we still had a long, long day ahead of us. After the long journey back (again, three hours by boat, three by truck), we arrived in Lago Agrio with about seven more hours to kill until our night bus. And it’s not exactly the greatest town to have to kill time in.

Finally we boarded our bus, and I was happy to see that my seat actually reclined a bit! (On the ride up my seat was broken and didn’t recline more than an inch, which was miserable and I didn’t sleep at all.) As soon as I was basically asleep, the bus stopped, a military guy with a big machine gun got on, and we were all made to get off the bus. Some people were being patted down or their bags searched. We (a British couple, Maaike, and I) were the only foreigners on the bus, and they just waved us to a window where we had to show our passports and answer a couple questions.

I still have no idea why we had this random military check, but my best guess is that it was because we were coming from so close to the Colombian border. Lago Agrio is only like twenty minutes or something from Colombia, but it’s a really unsafe border. In fact, one guy in our group wanted to go to Colombia, and in order to do so he had to go all the way back to Quito, then go another five or six hours from there up to the one safe border crossing. Crazy!

Beautiful sunset

The countdown begins…

It’s hard to believe I have less than a week left in my trip now! (Yes, originally I was coming home the 14th but changed it to the 7th, as I realized it would be better to allow myself two weeks at home to get things sorted and see family before I head off to Sweden.)

It’s amazing how time on the road goes. While I remember there were many times when it seemed to be moving so slowly, it now feels like it went by all too fast! Though at the same time, thinking back on my first day in Buenos Aires, or even back to Bolivia or southern Peru, seems like ages ago! While at the same time, it’s impossible to believe that Halloween in Lima was already more than a month ago. Strange how time goes.

I’m also having trouble grasping the fact that it’s going to be snowy and freezing when I get off the plane in Ohio. It’s so hot here at the Equator…and every time I see Christmas decorations up — a Christmas tree in a hotel, tinsel in the airport or on a small house in a jungle village — I first find myself thinking, “Weird that they have decorations up now for Christmas.”

Then I remember that it really is Christmastime! But it’s hard to feel it, without the rituals of putting everything up at home, going overboard decorating our apartment at school, hearing Christmas music everywhere you go, watching Christmas movies and TV specials…without all that it seems so strange!

I’m back in Quito now, trying to figure out how to spend my last few days on the continent. It’s also weird being alone again. The past month I’ve always been with people; I had two weeks with Lauren and Kassia, and then two weeks of Galapagos/jungle tours with groups and with Maaike (the Dutch girl who was my cabin-mate on the Floreana and was on the jungle tour with me). Now I’m back on my own, in the same hostel as I stayed in before in Quito, but without all the familiar faces. And I’m back to battling with my travel agency about a refund for the cruise. Before they seemed ready to hand it to me, now they are not sure if I will get one or not. So frustrating!

But I updated the Galapagos post, adding more pictures. I will try to get a post on the jungle up as well, but it might take a few days.

The Thanksgiving dinner attendees...can you tell me and Maaike? I didn't realize how tan we'd gotten!

Oh and also, I did attend a Thanksgiving dinner last Thursday, in the few hours between the arrival of our flight from the Galapagos and the departure of our night bus for Lago Agrio and the jungle. Both Maaike and I were exhausted and probably weren’t the most exciting dinner guests, but it was nice to be in a real home (it was the apartment of an Ecuadorian family that was housing the two American students hosting the dinner), and having a real Thanksgiving dinner.