Get me to Jordan!

Getting to Jordan from Egypt is fairly straight forward. Apparently. If you’re me however, there MUST be a little bit of chaos. Really. But that’s part of the adventure right? Of course, of course.

It was arranged via my hostel that I would leave my big bags with them while I was at Mt. Sinai and they would send them with the minibus that was leaving from the hostel for the border crossing the next morning, when I was descending the great mount, to meet my minibus at some cross roads. I would simply hop off one bus, on to the other one, and carry on to the border. Sounds easy, right? Yep. Easy. I was a little nervous to leave my life’s belongings behind, but trust, trust, trust. So I trusted.

In the minibus back from the mountain, I asked the driver if he knew he was supposed to drop me somewhere. Yes, yes, bus coming, I know. I watched him attempt to make phone calls, get frustrated, make a few more, tsk and shake his head, all the while we keep driving and driving towards Dahab and then PAST the crossroads point that is clearly marked Dahab this way, border other way. Maybe just drop me off here? No, no bus coming. I figure it makes more sense to carry on then wait on the side of some random highway with no bags in sight. So we carry on. Eventually, 90 minutes later, “Welcome to Dahab” sign. I sigh and shake my head but am too completely and utterly exhausted to raise the slightest fuss. All of a sudden the bus pulls off to the side of the road, Out! Out! Car take you now! and I see that we’ve parked behind a random personal vehicle. Turns out that buses missed each other, shocking, so one of the hostel employees was going to speed drive me to meet the border bound minibus. Okay, okay, let’s just go. Stumbled out, no chance to say goodbye to my loveliest hiking partners, and I was off.

Another squealing 140km/hr drive to an empty minibus waiting 15 minutes up the road. Out quickly quickly. He will take you to border minibus. What? Where are my bags? Where are the people? On OTHER minibus, I promise, I put them on myself. Trust me. Again, what choice do I have? So ANOTHER minibus, drives me to a town where phone calls are exchanged and he finally pulls up outside of a restaurant / shop area where 3 other border crossers are sipping tea and waiting patiently for this last lonely duck. I check, all of my bags and belongings are on this final minibus, I offer weak apologies for my appearance and smell, and the three travelers kindly sympathize with my current state. Not two minutes into what I’m guessing is the last leg of my Egypt trip, THANKFULLY, one of the travelling trio asks me where I’m heading. Remember, I am delirious and have no idea where I am at this point. Jordan. You taking the ferry? Yes. Ummm… you might want to get off the bus as we’re going to the Israeli border crossing and THIS is the town for the Jordan border crossing. WHAT?!?!? STOOOOOOOOPPPPPP!!!!

Off the bus I get, bags all in tow, and thankfully my other driver was still close by. Ask him about ferry, he asks if I have a ticket, no, no ticket, points me to entrance to ferry departure area. Ticket? Yes, yes, ticket there. I swear my bags weigh about 7000lbs by now, it’s just after noon, I’m hot, tired, and near collapse. I’m pointed in the right direction for scanning bags and ferry departure and they ask for me for my ticket. I need to buy a ticket. You must go different area. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. (I am close to tears.) Look at my big bag (pointing to the pack on my hunched over back) just climbed Mt. Sinai, no sleep, please, no, no, no, no, no. My desperation and the impending ferry departure registered in their very kind hearts and they let me leave my bags with them while I hoofed it the two blocks to the ticket office. On the way, I see a girl who I had met at my Dahab hostel… she assured me she’d hold the ferry for me. We laughed but I secretly crossed my fingers.

Ticket was a completely outrageous price but I had no choice. Paid a week’s worth of accommodation to get the ticket and then all motivation to move quickly drained from my body. No sleep, no food, angry, exhausted body, I just don’t care. I knew the ferry was at least a three hour trip so I stopped to get take away food, then made my way back to the ferry. Whatever happens will happen. I went through the appropriate check points for Egypt departure, kindness prevailed among the stares; a smelly girl wilting under the weight of an unnecessarily large back pack. While in the waiting area for a bus that takes you to the ferry, an official asked where I was going, I mentioned my friend who was already on the ferry, so they called a bus to rush JUST ME to that ferry as I guess they had closed it already and the full waiting room was for the NEXT ferry. Oh thank you, thank you, thank you.

On the ferry, I am guided up, up, up. You, floor five. I’ve left my pack and my passport, as required, with them at the entrance and am picking my way through crowds of locals in hallways, on floors, on stairs, sitting, eating, sleeping, lounging, and I go up. Finally, I poke my head into a very posh and cushy lounge area, floor five, and see the girl from my hostel and a few other white faces. Relief. As it turns out, ALL foreigners are designated to this one very cozy area while the common folk are in the regular ferry down below. Don’t get me wrong, this is a HUGE proper ferry so even for those who bought tickets that restricted them to sitting outside, this was a safe place to be, but yeah, we were segregated to our own lovely lounge floor. There were maybe 10 of us and we all felt a little guilty until we realized how much we paid for the damn ticket. We all sat back and enjoyed the cushiness. I attempted conversation for roughly 15 minutes before crashing out on one of the cushiony couches. Three and a half hours later, we’re in Jordan.

I felt horribly anti-social and still looked like death but a few of the girls had hiked the mountain previously so were feeling my out-of-sorts pain and were thankfully sympathetic. There were four of us randoms. Me and girly from hostel were travelling on our own and another two girls were travelling together. Bonus… ALL CANADIAN! Yipee! The single girl was meeting a friend in the town we just arrived in, the other two girls and I found a place to settle in for the night. Yay! Travel friends. Food, chat, plans made… they were up for renting a car with me (suggested to me by travelers I had met in Dahab) and we would see how it goes. Road trip through Jordan! Yessssssssss!