31 October - Sea, sex and sun? Cross out the unnecessary...
In Wadi Rum, the scorching heat isn’t optional—it’s standard. Thirty-five degrees in the shade, ring any bells? Except in the desert, the only shade you might be lucky enough to spot is your own… And after six straight hours of trekking through the sand, my legs feel like jelly! The worst part? We’re only halfway… And the *absolute* worst? The last drop of water just disappeared down Muriel’s selfish throat, which means the next chance to wet our whistles is over six miles away! Mercy… My kingdom for a liter of water! Or better yet… I’d trade the girls for a cold beer!!! Abracadabra… Open sesame… Then, you won’t believe it, but around a rock, in the middle of nowhere, we stumble upon a bar—if a bar can even have a nose! In no time flat, I’m sipping a nice Kwak, lounging on plush cushions like the nabob I am… One good swig later, we’re back on our way in the limo the bar owner lent us, and the Empire State Building is suddenly in our sights… We’re on the right track, especially since I’m now accompanied by two gorgeous, totally naked belly dancers!!! Woooooo!!! Seriously, Jordan is amazing!
And of course, just when things were getting interesting, my damn alarm goes off and ruins what was just a dream… Yet I swear, nothing had tipped me off! Well… now that I think about it, I *could* have suspected something… When we walked into the bar, Sandrine didn’t even dash to the bathroom… By the way, just so you know, the alarm wasn’t for the pleasure dear to our good old Herbert Léonard—it was to make sure I didn’t miss the 8 AM meet-up. Eight o’clock on a Sunday? Yep, when it’s for a good cause, anything’s possible! And this time, the good cause is called Arab Diver! No, no, it’s not the pet name of one of the two naked dancers—it’s a scuba diving agency! Yeah, you didn’t think I’d come to this neck of the woods without going underwater, did you? Though, like an old drunk, these bottles will be solo dives! The girls, probably traumatized by my dad’s eyes or my mom’s teeth, unanimously bailed at the last minute. Only Sandrine is excused—I got a note from her parents… Let’s just say she’s claimed the bathroom instead of the mask and snorkel…
Alright, full steam ahead! Before the big dive, we get the usual boring safety briefing: Remember to breathe underwater, don’t take off your swim cap, validate your ticket before departure… It was in heavily Arabic-accented English, but as you can see, I think I got the gist. I say “we” because besides the instructor, there’ll be two of us taking the plunge. First, it’s yours truly—you’re starting to know me… The other is Pascal, a Breton who’s way less sexy in my book than this morning’s dancers but apparently just as nice… While we’re at it, thanks to Pascal for the underwater photos! Pascal, if you’re reading this… Anyway, back to the dive! In two words: really great, even if I didn’t see much more than with my mask and snorkel… Thousands and thousands of tiny colorful fish that I eventually stopped even looking at… Too jaded, the guy!
Back at the hotel now! The three girls are taking it easy… You’re right, Brenda, don’t let yourself go! One’s sunbathing by the pool, another’s taking a little nap. And where do you think the third one is hiding?... Alright, alright, Sandrine, I’ll stop!
For lunch, we’re eating at the hotel restaurant. We order what looks like chicken pieces and salad wrapped in Arabic bread. The waiter, clearly confident, asks: « Good? »
And we reply: « Uh… Yes… It’s very special… » Translation: « It’s downright inedible for stomachs raised on foie gras and duck breast… » Definitely not the best investment of the trip. So, what’s the afternoon plan? Simple—just taking the time to do nothing! Like any good organized trip for a herd, we get half a day of free time… So this afternoon, if you’re hungry, eat; if you’re sleepy, sleep; if you feel dirty, shower; if you need to go to the bathroom… Okay, okay, Sandrine, that was the last time… No need to read tea leaves to guess we obviously headed to the beach to be lazy. No need to mock—we’re on vacation! Gotta get a little tan to show off to the colleagues when we get back!
After that, like the big kids we are, we splash around in the pool for a few minutes, then a cold shower—just how I like them here—and a nap—just how I like them everywhere! As you can see, not much exciting to report to wrap up our little lazy spell. No flat tire, no frustrating conversations with locals… not even a funny story about a splinter or a mild case of traveler’s diarrhea, even though there was *some* of that! All this to say it might be time to hit the road again! Yeah, the beach is fun for a while, but in the long run, it gets a bit boring… even if I officially declare this spot perfect for lounging around for two or three days! So we willingly let our last day here slip away and end the evening on the hotel terrace, toasting with a few drinks to everyone’s health—including yours! Cheers! « What do you mean, you can’t find alcohol in Jordan? What about my bag, then? It’s right here in Jordan! » We’d planned ahead and brought a few little pick-me-ups from home. It made for a really nice distraction while the fatigue started to creep in. And it hits fast, the sneaky thing!! By eight o’clock, everyone’s off to bed… Morpheus passes by and leaves nothing but a pile of fresh meat behind… This was Franck, live from Jordan, back to you in the studio—and see you tomorrow… After all, tomorrow’s another adventure…
