Blue Bites

I love blue food. Completely. I know that most of us are fond of blueberries but this attraction is mostly based on the taste and not on the specific hue that this berry exudes. To me they are irresistible BECAUSE they are blue. A deep, vibrant delicious blue...
Heck, you could take a bowl of my least favorite vegetable, Brussels Sprouts, dose them with a generous dollop of blue food coloring and I would be in there like a dirty shirt. I probably need therapy or something. To curb (or satiate?) my enthusiasm for All Foods That Are Blue my friends tend to be highly accommodating: One of my dear pals in Mexico kindly sprinted across busy roads to retrieve blue candy floss from the street vendor who was not within my reach; and others patiently separate the blue M&M's to make me cease jumping up and down with manic eagerness.
I don't know why I have this infinite craving for blue edibles. I tried to stop pondering the reason behind it but it is hard because there is not that much real natural blue food out there. Sure, blueberries are one of them but cobalt-colored Skittles hardly count. Right?

So I looked it up. According to a website about color & foods I am - in an evolutionary sense - destined to kick the bucket (...). Most cyaneous-colored delectables out there would make you keel over on the spot, thus conditioning humankind over thousands of years to AVOID blue food. Apparently even the sight of cerulean snacks suppress appetite.
Sigh.
It seems as if my best bet is to purchase some azure-colored sunglasses to keep my rose-colored view on my favorite food color from getting the Blues.

Bluesy Goodness

Diving Expedition

In the evening the traditional dhow headed out under the full moon in Omani waters for two days of diving and two nights of sleeping under the Middle Eastern sky. A wonderful crew of divers made it an excellent weekend and the unspoiled marine environment was a feast for the eyes.

In the next month we will be heading out for the last seasonal dhow diving trips to Oman. I am very much looking forward to it - Sailing and diving in remote seas makes my heart glow with contentment...

I love my job.

Dhow & Divers

Omani Sunrise

En Route

Musandam, Oman

The Reality of Television

I have never watched TV much, perhaps because I grew up without one during my formative years. When we lived in Gabon we used to wheel the TV and VCR (when video cassettes still ruled the world!) out of their hiding spot to watch old movies. Living in Holland as a teenager I did get glued to the screen, perhaps my highest peak of true TV addiction featuring MTV and Allie McBeal (I know, I know...)

But in the last twelve years I have not owned a single TV.
The main factors responsible for the absence of television in my life are probably the more isolated places I've lived and my parents - who aren't TV junkies.
I view this as a blessing in many ways and I am grateful. However, during certain social exchanges I of course can't say much when it comes to the latest happenings regarding TV programs. I normally make up for it by uttering appropriate noises during a rehash between acquaintances about the latest episode of e.g. Desperate Housewives whilst listening to the opinions flying back and forth about these famous strangers' latest behaviors and looks.

I believe that reality shows are a different beast all together. I understand their lure and the aspect of voyeurism but in general I do not have much care for the day-to-day lives of the rich and famous.
To be really honest with you, I find the reality, care and love of life and that of others around me much more significant and interesting.
Yet don't think that I am dissing TV altogether, heavens no.
I am a fervent fan of films, documentaries and several TV series but I want to be the one that chooses instead of letting TV channels decide what I can watch and when. Besides, DVDs and online viewing have less advertisement interruptions, and I get to hit the pause button whenever I want!

You might wonder why did I write this post about television?
Well, my new home in Khorfakkan is this beautiful, quiet and clean apartment with all the amenities, provided by the awesome company I work for. And guess what? A high tech flatscreen TV adorns the wall in my bedroom. With all the channels in the world!
The things is, I don't even know how to turn it on...

 

Khorfakkan the Town

Khor Fakkan can be translated into "Creek of Two Jaws" and is nestled right between Oman and Musandam in the United Arab Emirates.
I arrived in Khorfakkan in the beginning of April. It is a quiet, sleepy town and a favored weekend destination for the ones that wish to escape the hustle and bustle of large cities such as Dubai and Abu Dhabi.

No bars or clubs are to be found here and during working days it is peaceful, with hardly any traffic and the meticulously groomed public spaces deserted during scorching hot midday hours. In the weekend the Corniche fills up with those who venture out in the evenings for a stroll when temperatures drop and work ceases. The beach attracts pick-nicks, water activities and families.

I have the feeling that I will enjoy living and working here very much.

Diving here is incomparable to other seaside ports in the Emirates. The abundance of marine life, the visibility and temperature here are drastically different, and much more favorable. One of my first days of diving I was pleasantly surprised by certain aquatic encounters and a Black-tip shark's fin breaking the surface brought a smile to my face. My first Zebra Moray Eel gazed coyly at me from beneath a crevice, and a meter further a Tiger Snake Moray shied away as soon as he spotted my bubbles...

Khorfakkan Beach

Zebra Moray Eel

Stark Desert Mountains

Nightingale Sisters

Many a dark winter night these voices have filled my living room. I can close my eyes and get transported back to those precious evenings: Lounging around with a half smile on my face, a glass of wine in my hand and their soaring vocals soaking right into my soul. Candles lit, incense burning and Crackhead the cat sleeping in front of the fire. I miss moments such as these, where the night tends to mingle with the musical notes and envelops you in a sonic landscape that is both foreign yet so familiar.

When I moved to Canada I shared an apartment with two men for a while. Allan was Nepalese and Saeed came all the way from Pakistan. Saeed's presence introduced me to Bollywood films & soundtracks and classical Indian music, a gift I will forever be grateful for.
Whether he was translating a few of Asha's lyrics or giving me an update on the story line of a Bollywood flick that we were watching, he remained patient and kind, even teaching me how to sing along with some of Lata's more famous songs (I am tone deaf, by the way).

Lata Mandeshkar and Asha Bhosle are the nightingales of India and are revered worldwide. It seems silly to describe the magnitude of their talent and beauty. Please experience it for yourself and make up your own mind. Hopefully their voices will enrich the appreciation you have for music even more.
Asha Bhosle 
Lata Mangeshkar

The Legendary Sisters

En Route

Syngnathidae

Oh boy. These tiny fellows make me incredibly happy underwater. Their delicate bodies, their poor yet elegant swimming abilities and their uber-cute demeanor make my heart sing. C'mon, just look at their little snouts!

Pipefish are related to seahorses (minus the belly) and are completely and utterly adorable. Period.
Good thing about working in the Red Sea is that I get to see them almost on every dive!
There is a bunch of them that hang out on the crow's nest of the shipwreck the Cedar Pride and I make a point of going to see them when I take clients out there (Please don't ask me what my oh so not creative underwater signal for 'pipefish' is)
One day I took a Danish guest out diving and after the dive briefing and going on about my pipefish adoration we approached their little love nest. Imagine my dismay to find a big-ass Devil Scorpionfish. Right next to where one of these little guys was hovering.
Holding your breath underwater is not the best thing to do but I couldn't help it: Three Pipefish socializing not even 20 centimeters away from this dude that could vacuum them up faster than my mother's Dirt Devil. (I am embarrassed to say I was also kind of fascinated. Let's face it, you don't get to see a Scorpionfish having a snack on every dive...)

No harm was done in the end. I returned to the Cedar Pride a day later and all were still happily floating about. Phew.

Delicate beauty of a Pipefish

Elusive Ornate Ghost Pipefish

Movement

It is official: I am leaving Jordan!
In nine days.
My great new job offer leads me to Khorfakkan in the United Arab Emirates. Close to Oman, my birth country. I cannot wait...!

Farewell, Aqaba.

Aqaba with a view of the Israeli city of Eilat across the Red Sea

Unlocked

After living and working in Jordan for the last little while I have come across a lot of keys. Unfortunately none of the keys that my roommates have lost during my stay here but nonetheless, I am seeing keys wherever I go.

In the antique shop that I am addicted to I found a whole bundle dangling from a shelf and was irresistibly drawn to one specimen. The old shopkeeper apologized, saying there was not a lock to match it but I replied that I was not interested in unlocking anything and that the key would be just fine as it was, and took it home.
Later on I was having dinner with a friend and showed him the key that hung around my neck. He told me that it was Palestinian and then proceeded to tell a story that fascinated me deeply. It is called 'The Key of Palestine'.

Al-Nakba, also known as the Catastrophe, happened almost 65 years ago when a million Palestinians left their homes. The old rusty key I had just purchased unlocked a sad story, one that is not mine to tell.

An old article by Reuters tells the tale of one of the many key-holders out there.

My Palestinian key

Purple Haze

Wadi Rum lies just outside of Aqaba, where I live. It is more famously known as the Desert of Lawrence of Arabia and its landscape is utterly magnificent: Dramatic rock formations, stunning sunsets and hospitable Bedouins tending to their herds of goats, camels and sheep. Together with my family and a Jordanian pal we explored some of it via jeep one afternoon.
We came across old petroglyphs carved in rock and a drinking hole for camels that the locals had ingeniously crafted to manipulate the Spring rainwater into a holding place. But what captured our attention mostly was the purple haze that covered every inch of the sand.
After the recent rainfall delicate small flowers had transformed the desert into a lush garden. A botanist's wet dream. It was gorgeous.
In the distance a sandstorm was brewing and the horizon became somewhat hazy, muddling the division where sand and sky meet.
A little fire was stoked to brew up a delicious batch of Bedouin tea and we all leaned back on the rocks and drank in our surroundings. All of it.

Wadi Rum in Spring

Jeff Molloy

What else can I say but: Simply. Wondrous.
Jeff Molloy's award-winning work introduces viewers to a vibrant multi-media world shaped by his deep-rooted Canadian identity: An exploration of his cherished and honest view of his cultural origins.
But Jeff is not a one-trick pony. Ever.

After spending a holiday in Cuba in 2011 he created the 'Fachada Cubana' collection and only anticipation will hold us over until we get to see what he will produce after several months of tracking through Asia with his wife Kathryn. I have this inkling that the outcome will be colorful!
After all, color, texture, human behavior and rituals, whether historical or contemporary, yield a strong influence on the creative process. True artists utilize a variety of mediums to expose what lies hidden beneath a subject's surface, and Molloy's work is a fine example of this.

I was very fortunate to have one of his pieces on my living room wall for a while and I will be for always in love with it. Other favorites? His Mixed Media Cabinets. Oh my lord. One day I will have one.

Check out his website and be prepared to get addicted...

Wishing Well

I purchased this beautiful Arabic scroll holder in my favorite shop in Aqaba, Jordan. It is a tiny store, crammed full of random objects ranging from forgotten dusty antiques to tacky tourist souvenirs, haphazardly stacked from floor to ceiling. I could spend an eternity in here, drinking shai with the old gentleman that owns it, spellbound by his stories and asking him a million questions about some of the unfamiliar antiques that are found in his store.
I had come across the scroll holder last month and was hoping that it would still be tucked in the back, between the copper platters and ancient clay oil lamps. It was.
I have seen other scroll holders before, normally consisting solely out of metal but this particular one has thick gorgeous blue glass worked into the design and when the light hits it seems to almost...glow.
I wonder what was once written on the pages that were rolled up inside it. I guess I will always wonder, and never know.

But I do know what it will contain from now on. I will write tiny wishes on little scrolls of paper and store them safely inside this tube. After time, and once the scroll holder is full, I will take all the wishes out, read them and see which ones have come true.

Mosaic Map

After standing on top of Mount Nebo and not seeing (due to foggy skies) the supposed 'Promised Land' that Moses went nuts about, my Mum, her friend and I went to the church of Saint George in Madaba. Here lies the oldest mosaic map in the world. Now my mum and I love mosaics. And churches. But I'll be honest. All three of us had visited the stunning city of Petra a few days prior to Madaba and quite frankly that might have aided in our unenthusiastic reaction when we arrived at this site. It was anticlimactic, actually.

My advice? If you have the time when visiting Jordan go see Jerash instead, the largest and best preserved Roman city outside of Italy. Or go explore the Mujib Nature Reserve! I'll wish I had done the same, hahah!

Fins Only

I am absolutely and completely in love with sharks...! As a diver they rank among my favorite underwater encounters; in fact I like them even more than dolphins (sorry, Flipper). There is just something about them and a perfect world for me would include seeing them on every dive I do. Unfortunately this is not the case. Sharks are being methodically decimated and their fins harvested on a massive scale. Recently CITES has made some changes (read the article by Damian Carrington here) which hopefully will protect these wonderful majestic animals somewhat...

In order to call attention to the global slaughter of sharks and mantas a video was put out by a shark conservation charity but it was banned from television:  "...Sadly the 45 second advert has been deemed too graphic and distressing to be shown on TV." (Quote from indepths.org The Diving Community Resource)

Take a look at the website of the Bite-Back Shark and Marine Conservation Charity and share it with your friends. If you wish you can view the banned video. Graphic, yes. But the truth does not always involve rose petals and double rainbows.

The Grandmother of Rai

Her last album was 'N'ta Goudami' and Cheikha Rimitti was 83 years old when she recorded it.
Not long after, she passed away.
This fierce musician was such an integral part of the Rai music movement and influenced countless musicians with her sense of poetry and outspoken adversity. Her music was banned from her homeland Algeria and Rimitti spent a large amount of time in France where eventually she died of a heart attack in 2006.
I was walking home a few weeks ago when a car sped by with thumping music and the distinctive voice of Rimitti spilling into the streets. I got goosebumps on the spot.

I have an old vinyl record of her earlier recordings, and one of my favorite things to do is light candles, uncork a bottle of red wine and play it really, really loud.
I think she would approve.

Cairo Craze

I went back to Cairo and got to see my brothers and father again for twelve days. It was simply wonderful to be with them again! Sight-seeing was not a priority for all I wanted to do was hang out with them. However, paying a visit to the famous Khan el-Khalili souk was a must. Spices, cloth, antiques, clothes, junk, souvenirs and much more provides a feast for the eyes and the bustling streets are filled with locals and tourists alike.

An old lady sat at one of the street corners and when I passed we smiled at one another. On our way back she called me over and handed me two guavas, pointing at my little brother and I. They smelled heavenly.

I thanked her profusely and when I was walking away I kept looking back at her. Her simple sweet gesture. It made me smile even more.

En Route

Clowning Around

Clowns. They are sure to evoke some kind of emotion, right? Whether clowns make you recall the horror movie 'It' or something slightly more warm and fuzzy it is not often that we link clowns with healing and connecting people, communities and families. I sure didn't.

Until my friend traveled to Ecuador. To volunteer and attend an intensive clown workshop. A la Patch Adams. I assumed she was joking about becoming a professional clown and urged her to write a book instead (she could be a stand-up comedian, she is that witty).
Boy, was I ever wrong. And she is ever so brave. After looking up what exactly she was doing I was deeply touched and every time I think of her and her purple clown nose I cannot seem to get rid of that giant smile that spreads across my face.

There are a lot of Revolutionary Clowns out there working hard and volunteering with Patch Adams' Gesundheit! Global Outreach
I think they are da bomb.

Revolutionary clowns

Aquatic Art

Art. Add water. And a whole new world unfolds before your eyes...
Imagine floating in front of a painting or sculpture. Now imagine doing it upside down.
Perhaps a sponge has started growing on one of the edges or it has become a shelter for juvenile fish. Art that over time transforms and always grows. I love it.

An underwater museum to check out: The Underwater Museum of Cancun
One of my favorite sculptors: Jason de Caires Taylor 
An underwater art exhibit: Paintings

Hitting a New Low

The Dead Sea.
Approximately 8.6 times more salty than the ocean. And I had no clue that it was the lowest elevation point on earth, 423 meters below sea level (the things you learn when going on a road trip!). I was tempted to see if Cedric would float as well but gnomes are after all not known for their aquatic prowess.
Contemporary beauty products and spas boast about the healing qualities of the Dead Sea but folks have known about it forever. The ancient Egyptians used it for mummifying, Aristotle wrote a note about it and countless other civilizations floated around in it and used the minerals for a myriad of causes.

There's only one small problem. The Dead Sea is dying. It is shrinking, actually. Jordan has been involved with a project to rectify this but according to an article in the International Business Times it might not be the miracle cure that will heal the Dead Sea.

I chatted with a commercial diver who was hired to do a job in the Dead Sea. I asked the obvious question of how much weight he had to bring in order to be able to sink and his reply made me envision a diver looking like the Michelin Man but instead covered head to toe in weight-belts. Bulky for sure. But that was not his biggest annoyance. The high salt content erodes dive gear like crazy (no wonder that there were no boats to be seen bobbing about! Duh.)
And apparently the worst part about diving in the Dead Sea? When your mask leaks during the job...

Cedric vs. Nabateans

Cedric the Gnomad has been on the road again and was literally dwarfed by the ancient city of Petra.

Over 2300 years old this enormous city is breathtakingly beautiful, listed as one of the new seven wonders of the world and I can now fully understand why... Together with my sweet mother (it was so good to see her again!) and a family friend we walked around for hours and still did not get to see all of it. Imagine, only 15 percent of it has been excavated and that more is yet to be discovered... All of us were in awe by the sheer magnitude of this historical site and I wish I could go back and spend a couple more days wondering around and seeing more of it.
I am embarrassed to say that I'd never heard about the Nabateans (yep, even after taking several archaeology courses in university) before I came to Jordan, and let me tell you that as stone masons/carvers they kicked ass big time. It is HUGE. Carved out of the stone cliffs. It is so, so beautiful...

Here is a link about Petra. It even mentions Harrison Ford. And Sean Connery. And Indiana Jones.

Hey Mr. Postman

I am all for hand-written letters. I grew up in the tropical boonies and when I left my parents at an early age it was drilled into me: WRITE.
I did.

My father has the most beautiful handwriting ever. I have tried in vain to copy his handwriting style and for a long time I have wished for certain chosen words in his writing to become transfixed as permanent ink on my skin. His writing is overly unique & elegant and one day it will grace one of my forearms as a tattoo.

When I was a teenager the parental unit bought me a Parker fountain pen that my classmates during high school loved to borrow: It was so well-seasoned that it was like butter in your hands when writing. I vividly remember going to the local stationary store and buying the ink cartilages and ultimately my devastation when the housing of my trusted writing device broke. Seventeen years later I still have it in my possession and for over a decade I've wanted to replace the broken bits.

Over time my diligent letter writing went downhill. Correspondence became sporadic and email replaced delicate stationary and indigo ink. In 2012 I decided to start afresh and picked up the pen again. Postcards and letters filled with love were sent from Egypt, N-Ireland, Holland, Mexico, Aruba and now Jordan.

Every month the main head office brought me handwritten letters from my friends and family. I would jump up and down with excitement, run to the nearest hammock and immerse myself in the words on the pages. It provided an almost physical link to my loved ones and (I'll admit it!) I smelled the pages and held the envelopes close to my heart.

The Mexican and Aruban mail were notoriously unreliable and some letters were either months delayed or took a detour; others never made it. Jordanian post is smooth in comparison. Try it and write to me.
I will send you one back and when you close your eyes and hold the envelope close it will hopefully put a smile on your face.

Red Roaster

Coffee beans. Add Veronica. Perfect blend.

The lovely Ms. Vee has recently become the proud owner of Red Roaster Coffee, a micro roaster company that has its roots on Gabriola Island, BC. If you like your cup of java to be fresh, organic, fair-trade and ethically sourced you've got yourself some magic beans here! Next to that Red Roaster delivers the freshly roasted goods to your doorstep and donates to local organizations such as People for a Healthy Community (PHC). It is a win-win situation plus you will be supporting a local business run by a talented young entrepreneur with a heart of gold.
Go to the website to get your caffeine buzz details

Shakespearian Dissidence

When I was seventeen & lived in Holland I wrote the final thesis for my history course on the dissuasion of fictional characterizations regarding Queen Elizabeth I. It was a choice mostly propelled by the different accounts of Elizabeth's character in history books, novels and films. I am still drawn to the myth surrounding this woman, the turbulent and hazy political atmosphere during the time of her reign and how history was recorded and none the least, by whom.
Recently I watched the film 'Anonymous'. It was splendid and I thoroughly enjoyed it, mostly for breathing life into one of the facets that make me enjoy historical interpretations even more - Where do facts end and fiction begin?

During Elizabeth's rule a certain playwright flourished and became a legendary figurehead of literature:
Shakespeare.
His plays (and play on) words, poetic lamentations and iambic pentameter used to make me cringe when I was a teenager in high school. Now I can spend an evening with Othello, a few candles and a heap of mature cheese and red wine (we all have our vices)

After watching 'Anonymous' I had to write this post. There is this young woman who I have been keeping track of for a while. The energetic prose that she infuses some of her performances with is a style of contemporary Shakespearean bardolatry.
Her name is Kate Tempest and she knows how to bring it, slicing into your soul while you hang on her every word. Find out more about Kate here. Or watch the video that got me hooked and riddled with goosebumps.
Perhaps this is what audiences experienced whilst watching Shakespeare's plays in his time. A certain enthrallment, when words move you to the point where you become speechless.

Giant Napoleon (Cheilinus undulatus)

A couple of days ago I took two Scandinavian divers out for a dip on Rainbow Reef where we found ourselves in unusual company. The three of us were surrounded by a huge school of gorgeous fusiliers when suddenly out of nowhere a 2 meter Napoleon wrasse and his Significant (and much smaller) Other appeared. They decided that we were a welcome distraction and kept coming back for another curious look. Napoleon or Humphead wrasse have large expressive eyes that are akin to googly eyes, and we were certainly being ogled tons! (not as a potential snack, mind you)
It was the first Napoleon I've come across here in Jordan and his massive size was impressive. His girlfriend was a bit more coy but she warmed up and after spending minutes gazing into each other's eyes we parted ways. Aquatic encounters such as these bring a big smile to my face...

Snow in the Desert

As soon as it snows I am one of the first to run outside and jump around in it like a lunatic new-born lamb. I am known for starting epic snowball ambushes, making impromptu snow angels & you can always count me in for a midnight tobogganing session with my pals.
Snow sculptures are awesome too. One year I made a roasted pig out of snow, complete with an apple stuffed in its mouth which was neatly plucked out by deer every night (I lived in an orchard then so the stolen apples were easily replaced).

But snow in the desert? Yep. It is pretty crazy. January brought the white stuff to the Middle East and even the ancient city of Petra got dusted. Roads were closed off and many Jordanians were having a lot of fun sledding around.
The unusual weather has also created serious problems. Most affected are the tens of thousands of Syrian refugees. Snow, rain, and wind have battered the refugee camps and in Zaatari tents were flooded and people were evacuated. The situation is worsening. I've been told that many Syrians need to 'pay' to get their families safely across the border. These people, who are running for their lives, leaving all they have behind in a desperate attempt to escape the war that is raging in their home country are being bribed by Syrian custom officials... An amount that most can't afford to pay (Read more about it here)

For an article and video about the Zaatari refugee encampment in Jordan click here.


 

Great News

Ever wonder why you feel depressed after watching the evening news? Do you feel as if wherever you turn there seems to be more violence and disasters happening worldwide? You are not the only one.

Situated in a relatively peaceful & stable place in the turbulent Middle East we are surrounded by neighboring countries where conflict rages: Reports filter in of locals who have family members in Syria that are killed by snipers, their houses destroyed and people fleeing their lands...

I am not sure how accurate this study is but according to an article published by Morocco World News "Arab nations are the most affected by melancholy" (stats provided by the World Health Organization).
It is a depressing report.

So today at work I decided to go on an online hunt for Great News. News that would lift spirits and make folks here smile. Click the picture below to find out where we ventured...

And if that did not rock your boat I have a back up plan to put a spring in your step...

Click on these babies:

Great News Network 

Daily Good News

Capsicum annuum

Red sweet bell peppers are obviously one of the best things EVER. Their scent, crunchy texture and sweet taste makes my mouth water even thinking about them (Actually I have just finished one off for breakfast).
I can eat them everyday, anytime, anywhere as long as they are not consecrated in a cooking pan - I like them raw. Growing them is a pure act of patience: Watching unripened peppers slowly turn color takes a long time when all you can think of is stuffing your face with one.
Whilst living in the Mexican outback I could only get green peppers which are of course contemptible compared to the vibrant ripe red ones. Imagine my joy when I arrived in Jordan and was suddenly surrounded by them. Add some jarjeer (arugula) that grows on little vegetable plots all across the city and is sold straight from the wheelbarrows behind the mosque and you have yourself a union made in heaven.

Interesting fact: Christopher Colombus was the muppet whom mistakenly gave this fruit (yep it IS a fruit) its name, wrongly associating it with peppercorns.

Perspective

Jason Isley is an underwater macro-photographer who has created a whole new series with a humorous twist. Check it out! (Click here for the entire scoop on the story)

Ink

I love tattoos. Big time. Always a few ideas are tucked in the back of my mind for the next inking but when I came across the work of this gentleman I realized that I will have to fly my ass to Tahiti because tattoo artist Manu Farrarons' designs have left me in awe with the raw beauty & delicate elegance that they exude. His work is a contemporary echo and tribute to traditional Polynesian style

Flash Floods

One would never think that in a country associated with drought (landmass consisting 92 percent out of desert) that the streets would become a highway for ducks. I was told that before I arrived here in Jordan there was a flood that cornered my colleagues in the apartment and their escape route included the classical move of tying drapes and hanging them off the balcony.
Aqaba is surrounded by desert mountains and when the floodgates open up rivers of rainwater carve their way down to the Red Sea. So far I have not had the opportunity to canoe to work but the pictures below show that it will be a better option than driving when the tide comes.

Dirty Old Church

Everyday on my way to work I walk past the littered ruins of the oldest on-purpose built church in the world.
It might not be an impressive archaeological site to view but it tickles my pickle that these ancient abandoned remnants are in the midst of the city with nobody even sparing a glance when they stride by. Once in a while I see visitors arriving, looking bewildered as if they are thinking 'This is it?'

My father came for a visit and together we went to the Mamluk Fort and museum. We both are quintessential sight-seers and love history so we hit up the museum first where I was pleasantly surprised by finding out that the archaeology department of the University of Victoria aided in the excavations around Aqaba. Afterwards we found ourselves all alone in the fort with our guide, got to peek in the execution chamber and admired the old palm trunks that were embedded in the walls for reinforcements.

Aqaba the Town

It is a strange town. Camels in full regalia stroll the sidewalks with their mounted owners yelling 'Taxi!' to tourists whilst the real cabs honk at every foreigner on the street and try to avoid hitting the skinny Berber horses pulling the gaudy carriages (some with loud sound systems installed on the back of the buggy). At the promenade a giant Jordanian flag (162 m high) can be seen from Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Israel. The town of Eilat lies across the bay and I watched the fireworks at New Year's Eve happening there from an English pub here in Aqaba - It is that closely situated.
Liquor stores everywhere and giant Hummers pull up in front of them with Saudi men piling out and returning with plastic bags full of alcohol (fully understandable, those poor guys are a bit dry 30 miles south from here).

Snow and rain has plagued the northern locals and they tend to flock to Aqaba on the weekends, their only seaport city. Since it is a tax-free zone it is also the place for them to shop and many return back to Amman clutching cheap Chinese duvets with kitsch designs. I myself have inherited a worn blanket with Walt Disney's Aladdin decorating my bed, which goes remarkably well with my flannel Smurfs blanket that I brought with me from home.

Aqaba is known for...Bottles filled with sand (I know, it reminds me too of that period where housewives got crafty and thought it was a hip thing to do).
But let's face it, this is a desert country with sand in abundance so it only makes sense to sell it to the tourists. And it is a fun thing to watch, these men carefully filling bottles.

Cedar Pride

Every other dive I take clients to a shipwreck named 'Cedar Pride'. This 74 meter long wreck lies on her side with the deepest point around 25 meters. Formerly used as a Lebanese freighter she caught on fire and after a few years was purposely sunk in 1985 for recreational diving. Jordanian king Abdallah is an avid diver and played a major role in the whole sinking production.
She has been down there for almost thirty years now and is slowly but surely collecting a variety of marine life. Lush soft, hard and black corals are attached to her hull, deck and around the crow's nest. Guilded Pipefish, Nudibranchs, schools of fish, you name it and it has found a spot on the Cedar Pride. Imagine what she will look like in 50 years...