Route Five From Iraq to Amman

Rather than troddle back up the King’s Highway from Amman, we decide to take route five through what the Jordanian’s refer to as “the dead earth.” Good idea Kyle. Good. Idea. It seems the whole dead earth thing comes from the fact that the highway is lined with the remnants of what seems like hundreds of tires that burst along this scorched land expressway. That and the fact that minerals in the soil make it impossible for anything - anything - to grow.



The really bizarre part of this drive (if that’s not enough) is the road signs that give a near constant countdown to the Iraqi border. It is easy to forget just how “neighborly” these small countries are. Just as the distance sign drops below twenty miles, the highway banks left through the ancient lands of desert castles and onward to Amman. We won’t be going to Iraq today. unfortunately.



The magnificent Desert Castles thankfully offer enough inspiration. Serving as Crusader-era trading outposts as recently as 500 years ago, they appear to be nothing more than an extension of the sand beneath them.



Our Jordanian adventure ends in Amman, Jordan’s sleepy yet delicious capital. While the country’s physical treasures may be concentrated north and south, their edible wonders are nestled comfortable at the top of one of the seven hills (except for Popeye’s, which is just off the freeway). From life-altering cupcakes to divine salads and falafel, Amman is a place to unbutton your pants and just let it all hang out.

Farewell Jordan. You will be missed.

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Kyle Taylor

WHOA, Petra. WHOA.

The Great Wall of China. The Pyramids of Giza. The Taj Mahal. Petra. It is without a doubt, one of the most spectacular historic sites in the world, yet Petra doesn’t get nearly the amount of “street cred” it deserves. Nestled deep in the canyons of south central Jordan, Petra is an entire city carved into the sides of mountains. You approach through a long Siq lined on both sides by one of the world’s oldest irrigation systems. This entryway end at the Treasury, an enormous red sandstone facia carved into the face of rocks. It’s like the gorgeous architecture version of Mount Rushmore. From there you continue on down other streets and avenues lined with buildings, amphitheaters, religious facilities and the like. It’s so massive, I find it difficult to really focus my eyes on any one structure.



What makes it all the more inspiring is that there is really no other known place on earth that even remotely compares to it. I meet a slightly older couple from Utah and we end up spending the entire day together. Our paths originally cross because we are all vying to be the first people in just after 6am. We called it a tie. I think I continued my function as a tag-along because he was an archaeologist and there is no one better to explore the hidden world of Petra with than an archaeologist.



The day included a picnic lunch atop the highest peek in Petra, which houses the city’s monastery and most religious site. From there you can see into “The End of the World.” That is, according to the sign at least. More temples, more mosaics and more unbelievable facias carved into the sides of mountains. More water breaks (there is absolutely no shade AT ALL and the sun is giving us a beating). More Americans that aren’t nearly as cool as we are (obviously) and a delectable Jordanian paella to finish the day before we re-enter the park to experience Petra at Night.



It is on this tour that I realize how unbelievably incompetent human beings can be. Three rules are announced before we depart. Number One: No talking. Number Two: No pictures. Number Three: Walk Single-File. Do you think any of these high-functioning, intelligent, worldly human beings are able to follow these instructions? Absolutely not. Sadly, scared for the future of humanity, I am unable to contain my rage and become Petra’s official “traffic cop” to which I receive a less than appreciative response. But my goodness, can’t you people follow directions?

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Kyle Taylor

The King’s Highway & Bedouin

As terrible as this may sound, my expectations of a place usually end up matching my actual experience in said place quite well. Russia = Hilarious, Mongolia = Immense, Poland = Fascinating. Every now and then, however, there is a shocker; not a place that moderately exceeds my expectations but a place that DRAMATICALLY exceeds my expectations. That place - on this trip - is Jordan. I had heard Jordan was “boring, slow and less then extraordinary” from more than one person. “Certainly with Petra that couldn’t be so,” I told myself. That negative Nancy will remain nameless for fear of shame and retribution because Jordan is spectacular.



It all started the minute we got across the border from Israel, where our parting gift was a taxi driver who screwed us on the fair. $20 to go 2 miles because “it’s a special location departure arrival tax border rate fee.” Whatever. Pan to the Jordanian side, where $8 gets you a 40-mile ride in a luxury sedan. That is followed by a 2-hour bus ride that costs just over 75 cents. I know what you’re thinking - stop it! Well, I can’t it was just that amazing. Another $3 cab ride and we’re at the home of a friend of a friend who is shuttling us into his magnificent apartment - a welcome respite from the chaos of the past several months.



After some R&R and the greatest cupcakes the world has ever known, it’s time to head south. I am driving yet again and the chosen route is the King’s Highway - a mythically titled, seemingly famous path that lives up to its name in every sense of the word. I have never driven a more spectacular road in my entire life. Minus the occasional speed bumps that would leave me slamming on the breaks to avoid going airborne, the 5-hour trek from Amman to Petra and on to Wadi Rum was out of this world. I felt like I was in a car commercial. Winding roads that bob and weave around brilliant peaks, desert landscape unlike anything I had ever seen and a road that swerves around the world’s second largest canyon after the Grand Canyon in Arizona. Who knew, right?



This highway ended at Wadi Rum - the ancient stomping ground of one Lawrence of Arabia. There are no paved roads in the red desert area, which meant hiring a Bedouin four-wheel-drive guide to carry me deep into the region. Basically, Bedouins are the best. Ever. Despite the changing scene of geo-politics (especially in the Middle East), they do their best to maintain a way of life that has proven successful for literally hundreds of years. Slightly nomadic, slightly established, the Bedouins have their own style of dress, their own style of cooking (burying whole chickens in the ground for eight hours then unearthing them in a magnificent display of showmanship and jazz fingers), and their own style of telling time.



“How long does it take to hike to the top of that mountain,” I ask. “4 hours.” “When are we stopping for lunch,” I ask. “4 hours.” “How long will we be staying at Lawrence of Arabia’s House,” I ask. “4 hours.” “How long have you lived in Wadi Rum,” I ask. “4 Hours.” Clearly there was a slight communication breakdown...

More shots of Wadi Rum:









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Kyle