Katie's in Africa: An accidental history tour

Over the last two days I’ve gone around Jordan with a local guide, Iyad. He is from Palestine but like many people working in tourism here, had to leave because there was not enough work. It takes 5 years to get Jordanian citizenship and his wife and four children have remained in Palestine. His second wife lives in Spain. He told me he is allowed four, but only wants two because wives are expensive, which makes sense.

On Thursday morning Iyad picked me up and we drove down to Madaba about 45 minutes from Amman, where there is an amazing mosaic map of the middle east on the floor of a cathedral dating back to 560 AD among other well-preserved mosaics.

With 1970s US hits blaring (Iyad’s choice, not mine) we went on to Mt Nebo, the supposed burial site of Moses. From the top of Mt Nebo you can see into Palestine which is quite incredible. I hadn't realised just how much history there is here in Jordan, probably because I didn't read a guide book before arriving and missed the english brochures at the airport, but it's an historian's mecca.

To stay ahead of the many coach-loads of geriatric Americans, French and Indians (all of whom move so slowly you could mistake them for part of the exhibits ... but on a more serious note, it was very random – how many busloads of elderly Indians do you see touring around?), we hightailed it down to the Dead Sea. Those who have bobbed here (swimming is impossible) will attest to what a strange sensation it is. The salt is so strong you can’t put your face in the water and to lick your finger is no doubt causes permanent damage to your tastebuds, a bit like the farmland around Chernobyl. Any little scratches or cuts you may not have noticed suddenly feel like they're on fire.

After a couple of hours of bobbing (the novelty does wear off – but interestingly your skin doesn’t wrinkle like it does in the bath), we drove on towards Petra via the Kings Highway to the grating sound of Arabic hip hop. This narrow road winds through spectacular rocky mountain ranges for about 100km and has a number of historic villages along the way.

We stayed the night in Petra and in the morning I got up before the sun to beat the tourists. Good thing I did because by the time I’d gone through, there were literally more than 1000 people gawking and exclaiming their way through the entrance.

Inside Petra truly is amazing. While the most common image of this place is of the Treasury Building (named not because it was the world’s first bank as I’d assumed but because a pharaoh apparently hid his treasure inside an urn at the top of the building and in another civilization a king was buried in it), there is so much more to Petra. It is an entire town that has been excavated and was inhabited by many different civilisations – Edomite, Nabatean, Assyrian, Roman, Greek and Byzantine. Archaeologists are still finding new buildings and artefacts in the area, though how they discern between a rock and a significant rock is beyond me. A church was uncovered in 1997 with stunning mosaics in extremely good condition. I did try to tread carefully though, as you never know just what you’re tramping over. It was even more incredible to see it with no other tourists around, only the Bedouins who live in the caves and hound you to ride their camel/donkey/horse (for once with no sexual insinuations).

After a good four hours we continued on to Wadi Rum, where the rocky landscape slowly turns into to yellow and red sand dunes. A young Bedouin bloke took us in his jeep for a tour around the desert, though in the first 15 minutes we came across two different groups who had become stuck in the sand. I tried not to laugh at the local wealthy Jordanians who had taken their brand new SUVs into the desert and clearly things hadn’t gone to plan. God knows what they would have done if we hadn’t come along, as it was very remote, very hot and quite far from the road. Driving over soft sand definitely takes skill and is best left to experts, as these men have learned.

As we drove out of the desert a sandstorm was rolling in and despite having the windows closed little grains of sand got into everything. I fear this will not be the last time I’m caught in a sandstorm.

After a quick stop at Aqaba, a coastal town where the borders of Egypt, Jordan and Israel meet, we turned around and made the 3-hour journey back to Amman, having seen two-thirds of this small but incredible country.