Category: Middle East

Last summer we began an ascent up the highest mountain in Northern Africa – Jebel Toubkal, a dominating peak of the High Atlas some 4,000m high. Battling searing 40 degree sun on an exposed mountain we fought hard to reach the summit. Ultimately we succumbed to a combination of brutal heat and altitude sickness. The result of poor planning, inadequate training, and me expecting too much from my children.

So when Charlie’s 13^th birthday rolled around we sat and spoke about the transition from a boy to a teenager, the raised expectations, responsibility and indeed accountability. Once we had got the usual father/son talk out of the way I asked him what he would like to do for his birthday. Given it was his ‘milestone’ birthday I explained that we could do something special. I saw his face instantly start to ponder. A look of confusion mixed with excitement. “Go think about it” I told him.

A few days later I asked Charlie if he had thought of anything. “Can we go back and summit Tobkal dad, just the two of us”. Now, there is a bit of history in this one, when we failed last year Charlie was about 20m ahead, looking back he didn’t hear the conversation between myself, Abi and Jack. When I told him to begin the descent; that we were going back down he was destroyed. He later explained that he had put so much effort into getting to the summit that he felt like he had suffered defeat for someone else. And though he understood we had to go down, it left within him a failure which he had suffered through no fault of his own. He was determined that one day he would return and summit the mountain.

I spoke with his mother and we worked out the logistics, costs, training and equipment. One big concern was that we would have to do the mountain in winter meaning it would be a full winter ascent requiring specialist equipment and skills. Over the next couple of weeks I put a package together, sat back and assessed the reality of it all and determined that the only thing we couldn’t overcome would be the weather. Everything was achievable and as long as the weather was in our favour a summit was potentially possible. With that in mind I booked everything, planned a few days around the ascent and looked forward to a week in Morocco in the February half term.

I knew that Charlie and I were fit enough to hike 4,000m, and it felt a little pointless to just train for the sake of it. So, when the snows came around in December we set out getting some winter hiking. Boxing Day we hiked some 20 miles in the Dales and we barely broke a sweat. We did more hiking just to keep ourselves moving, but come January I knew we needed a challenge a little more specific to what we might expect on Toubkal. We could of course not train at altitude so I focused on keeping us going at a fast pace on steep inclines. With that in mind we headed back to the Dales and to the highest mountain there. We rocked up on a freezing cold day and I had given us a route which took us straight up the side of Whernside. Within no time at all we were tabbing it out along the summit, past snow 3 feet deep and then back to where we started. The speed at which we had summited Whernside convinced me that it wasn’t training we were doing, but just testing ourselves and our equipment. All of which was fine.

As February rolled around I knew we had to get some ice axe and crampon use. I called upon a friend of mine who runs an adventure company in Wales called Open-door Adventure. “Trevor, can we borrow some crampons and a couple of Ice axes for an ascent of Toubkal in Africa” I asked. “Yeah course you can mate, pop down” was his casual response. I figured that we could head down to North Wales, pick up the gear and then go summit Snowdon all in the same weekend.

Arriving at Opendoor adventure brought back some great memories. It is a grand hall in huge private grounds, surrounded by the beauty of North Wales. I was met by another friend Dave Orange, a man who has climbed just about every mountain worth climbing, including a summit of Mt Everest. The sort of bloke you can crack a beer open with and just sit and listen to all night. Put simply, if there was something to know about mountaineering that Dave didn’t know – It wasn’t worth knowing. “Toubkal is a great mountain in winter, you’ll love it” he smiled as he shook my hand as we left.

There are a number of ascents up Snowdon, the easiest is from Llanberis, a steady stroll up to the 1,000m summit. We chose the Pyg trail, a relatively steady hike up from Pen-Y-Pas. Parking is a scandalous yet typically British £10 per day. Pissed off we set off into the snow. Charlie had his ice axe from the off, I was content with my walking poles for the time being. Not long after setting off we saw a sign explaining that crampons and an ice axe were ‘essential’. Naturally we passed people on the mountain who had neither. About half way up the snow had got thick, slippy and the path was around a foot wide with steep drop offs to one side. Sitting on a rock we put the crampons on and set off for the summit.

For anyone that has never hiked with crampons, you can’t imagine how much harder they instantly make things. Your feet naturally become heavier, but you lose the flexibility from your sole meaning you have to walk flat footed, with each foot wide enough apart to not catch on the other. If it does catch (as Charlie found out) you trip over, face first. As we hiked up Snowdon we found ourselves passing people, and watched in amazement as idiots that had ignored the winter warnings were forced to retreat just 200m from the summit.

The summit of Snowdon is beautiful, it really is and is probably our favourite mountain in the UK that we have climbed. I suppose being up there with everyone else in crampons certainly adds to the achievement. For us it wasn’t just about the achievement, but it signified our final day of training for Toubkal.

Getting onto the train in Wakefield we set off for Morocco, determined, hopeful, but also conscious that the day previous temperatures were -25 degrees on Toubkal, winds were some 65mph and there was a foot of snowfall on top of what was already there. With the snowline at 2,300m it would be an almost complete winter ascent. I asked Charlie how he felt, he just looked at me, smiled and said “let’s do it”.

It was on J

Abu Dhabi, a city perched on the coast of the UAE is the richest city in the world, and home to more millionaires than anywhere else on earth. Whereas in the UK the average net worth of a person is around $80,000 in Abu Dhabi it is $17million. Attracting some $1 trillion worth of international investment annually it is no surprise that this tiny emirate bases much of its wealth off it’s hydrocarbon reserves. In other words – Oil.

Just 2 hours from Dubai the bus costs 25 Dirhams per seat (£4.30) and leaves from Al Guaibab station about every 20 minutes or so. With no trains in the Emirates the only alternative is a taxi which floats between 250 and 300 Dirhams.

You can stay anywhere you like in the city thanks to it being quite small, taking only 15 minutes from one side to the other in a taxi and an excellent bus service where every journey within Abu Dhabi is just 1 Dirham and a day pass just 3 dirhams (£0.17/£0.50) Everything is replicated in English and so navigation is simple. Despite the wealth in Abu Dhabi, hotels when compared to Dubai are around 30% cheaper, yet still holding up the opulence and cleanliness of those in Dubai.

Like Dubai, Abu Dhabi is in cleanliness over drive, however, and as much as we do love Dubai it is quite a soulless and sterile place, after just a few hours in Abu Dhabi we sensed a real character, it’s very Arabian, whilst still managing to portray the western edge. Nothing like we expected it is simply a normal city with a collective of sky scrapers at the corniche facing out over the Gulf. As much as you see international companies you see local Arab diners, Lebanese takeaways and cheesy, glitzy, Las Vegas-esque illuminated shop fronts. Walking around you don’t get a sense of wealth, but a real sense of cohesion brought about immigrants from all over the world. One minute we was chatting to a Pakistani taxi driver who was telling us how he hated India, Saudi Arabia and just about everywhere. A Bangladeshi who had worked for 6 years without seeing his family, regularly sending them cash, and an Indian who couldn’t wait to see Pakistan get thrashed in the cricket by Australia, which is coming to the Emirates next week.

But by far our most ‘productive’ chat was with a couple of Sri Lankan guys. Abu Dhabi is part of the UAE and devoutly Muslim. Society is based on the principles set out in Islam and so alcohol is strictly taboo and illegal for muslims. However, recognising that it is no longer a city inhabited exclusively by the Muslim populous, the government of Abu Dhabi have somewhat relaxed the laws regarding alcohol. Synonymous with the rest of the UAE drinking or being drunk in public will have you locked up as will carrying alcohol in a public place. However there are 3 places within the city which are allowed to sell alcohol at set times to non-muslim residents of the UAE on the basis of a license system whereby alcohol is limited to set amounts per month based on salary. On the good advice of the Sri Lankan guys we set off in search of a place called Spinneys supermarket in the Khalidya area of Abu Dhabi (Near the Marina) at the rear of Spinneys is a shop which looks closed and has no windows. They only ask for an alcohol license if you are either a tourist, or not obviously a non muslim. Being tanned i tried to pass off as a resident and grabbed 4 cans of Heineken (5 Dirhams each – £0.86) and confidently went to pay. Expecting to have to fire off a blag I was pleasantly surprised when within seconds we had paid and were out of the door no questions asked.

Abu Dhabi was brutally hot and is not geared for walking at all, temperatures hit the high forties and with no wind it was unforgiving and really sapped the energy from us. The desert sun has a burning edge to it, it feels like you are walking close to a raging furnace and unlike Dubai there is very little escape in terms of places that are air conditioned. Knowing we would be losing at least a litre of water in sweat every hour, rehydration was key and without even wanting to we found ourselves craving water and shade at every opportunity. I would go as far to say that the heat was unbearable, and even though we are well used to such temperatures, the lack of a breeze, shade and the openness of where we was really did become a struggle. Our eyes were constantly stinging from the sweat, our bodies drenched and every inch of bare skin burned. It was tough, and though not as hot as last year where temperatures hit 54 degrees we were given a harsh reminder of just how hot the Middle East gets.

With the heat in mind we decided to keep the time spent outside to a minimum, ruling out any public parks, beaches and things of no real significance. There was however two places we wanted to visit, the first was the enormous Sheikh Zayed Mosque. The biggest mosque in the whole of the Emirates and one of the biggest in the world it can accommodate about 40,000 worshippers. As far as mosques goes it is probably the epitome of beauty. A vast white complex surrounded by minarets and domes made from pure white marble it is difficult to imagine how anything man made could ever be this beautiful. As far as buildings go it jumped straight into one of our favourite, most beautiful and amazing buildings we have ever had the privilege of visiting. Despite the fact we were battered by the unforgiving heat we couldn’t help but be absolutely mesmerised by not just the scale, but the absolute pristine beauty the place offered up. A relatively new mosque it is subtle in it’s surroundings of a beautifully landscaped garden, and despite the fact it is enormous it isn’t overbearing, but welcoming. The kids and I absolutely loved it, and between us it is one of our favourite religious places, more beautiful than the Taj Mahal, every bit as amazing as the Golden Temple and any visit to Abu Dhabi without sampling it’s offering is a visit wasted in our opinion.

The reason we were actually in Abu Dhabi was due to a documentary I had watched a couple of years back in the UK about a city called Masdar. It was a bewildering glimpse into a unique city, a city of the future and I promised myself If ever we should find ourselves in the area, we would visit.

Masdar city is a joint venture between many countries globally and certainly many companies around the world. The fact is oil reserves are going to run out, and when they do, in a world based on energy we have to have something in place. It is a mixture betweens mans desire for science and the future and also of a reality that things are going to change, whether we like it or not and we must be ready. Masdar city is located just outside Abu Dhabi and nearby to the airport. It’s easily reached on the bus (line 161 and 163 from Carrefour, Airport rd)

A unique, self sufficient city it creates, garners and uses its own energy. Though only small the city is largely unheard of. We were for instance the only people there, and visitors get free reign of the place. Essentially it is a living experiment that actually does home some people. All the power is from Solar energy and cars are taken beneath the ground. Like something out of the future the cars require no driver and you simply hop in, speak where you want to go and completely driver free they head off. The streets are air conditioned by use of a huge wind tunnel which collects the wind and then distributes it around the complex. The buildings are all carefully constructed to not just collect the air so to naturally cool them, but also to maximise sunlight reducing the need for energy.

Masdar is spearheading the change on how we will live and how cities will be in the future, it is home to some of the best engineers and scientists in the world. All working together with a united goal – Self sufficiency and renewable energy. Naturally it was a very futuristic place and the kids loved it. They, along with me found it excessively interesting and for them it was a glimmer of how they might end up living, and especially how their children will end up living. For me it was science at it’s best, a real playground of ideas and experiments. It is easy to forget the imminent problems regarding energy which do face us, but was great to see that somewhere, in the middle of an Arabian desert ideas are being put into place and efforts are heading forward that one day, when oil runs out man will survive. I did however see the irony of such a place in a country that bases about 95% of it’s GDP on the black stuff.

Still, Abu Dhabi for us was great and between us we agreed that the character and charisma of the city makes up for the lacking in beaches and hyper malls. All three of us preferred it to Dubai and given how much we love Dubai that really does say a lot. I guess the best way to describe it is that you would holiday in Dubai, and then come home to Abu Dhabi.

I wrote extensively about Dubai last year and so won’t go over ground already covered. But for us, the Emirate of Dubai was the perfect stop gap between Asia and Northern Africa.

With a climate we love (the hottest place on earth on 26th August, the day I write this) Dubai is the perfect place of respite and on what was now our fourth visit we headed there in anticipation on a brand new Spice jet 737-800 from New Delhi. Ensuring we avoided Ramadan we touched down around 2pm into Dubai International airport. The flight took only a few hours and the time difference was only an hour and half. We slipped into Dubai like we’d never left and the searing, dry heat was something we had missed.

Dubai for us was going to be our holiday, and holiday it was. Back in western standard hotels, crisp white cotton duvets, air conditioning as standard, carpeted rooms, flat screen LCD Tv’s, roof top pools, world class malls and watching the sun set over one of the most stunning skylines in the world. From the kilometre tall Burj Khalifa, to walking around topless around Dubai Creek. Play areas in pristine, almost sterile parks too hot to play on, immaculate streets, brand new cars ranging from Toyotas to a sprinkling of Lamborghini’s, amazing blue skies without a cloud in sight. Kids walking around wearing Gucci and Dior with an iphone in one hand and a big Mac in the other. Dubai is one of the classiest places on earth and justifiably so, one of the most modern cities on earth it is a haven for expats living the dream, cheating footballers looking for forgiveness, and me and the kids looking for a holiday.

The thing about Dubai is that its like Marmite. So called ‘real’ travellers hate the whole sterilised nature of the place, it’s the cleanest place on earth, cleaner even than Singapore and like Singapore, lacks any real history (purely because Dubai has sprung up so quickly). But for the modern traveller they love it, the best hotel on earth is in Dubai, the beaches are slices of white sand splashed with turquoise, 35 degree seas. In many ways it’s the perfect city, hotels glimmer like they have been built yesterday, every chain restaurant on earth serves up food like it was opened today and the sun shines 365 days per year. With an average rainfall of one day every three years the city basques in minimum 35 degree, maximum 55 degree daily.

For many it is paradise on earth surrounded by modernity and for us it was the holiday we needed.

We spent five days in Dubai and we literally hit the beach, the pool, the malls and mooched about the parks searching for shade.

We didn’t go to any of the attractions, the water parks, mosques, or eat street food. We lazed in the sun, built sand castles, swam in the pool, shopped in the malls, and ate fast food.

And we loved every minute. Though I would of course like to say we did this, and this and this…Literally, we did some of this:

And we loved every minute.

Dubai was what we hoped, what we needed and was 5 days of nothing but pure relaxation.

Next stop, Abu Dhabi, where maybe we’ll do something 🙂

From a young age I was given a freedom most kids dreamt of. I lived on a farm and my brother and I were closer than close, we would make dens and spend days and nights in the fields. I always had a passion for getting up and doing stuff. I hated being stuck in and took every opportunity I could to get out and go exploring.

At age fourteen I travelled to Scotland with a friend and his mother. We went deep into the mountains to an international gathering of hippies. If memory serves me correctly they were called Rainbow people. They lived off the land and spent the days getting stoned, skinny dipping and dropping acid. Scott and his mother couldn’t cope with it, I loved it. I made new friends and somehow convinced my mum to let me stay. The days were spent exploring and loving life. I managed to get a lift from Scotland to Glastonbury. I don’t remember much of the journey, it was a transit van with a mattress in the back.

Once at Glastonbury we walked to part of the fence that was low, but still too high to easily climb over. Someone stacked some crates of beer into steps and we jumped the fence. I was fourteen years old, alone and had the time of my life.

I managed to get home by hiding in the toilets of the train when the guard came, but once home something inside me had changed. I was no longer content with running in the fields, there was a huge world waiting for me and I wanted to see it, I craved it.

I left home at fourteen and moved in with a girl and her mother. It didn’t work out and at fifteen I went to the train station with a ten pound note and asked where it would get me. It actually got me to Swinton and so I went. I slept rough and made friends, we would spend our days getting up to trouble and eventually I found myself at the Reading Festival. There I met a girl who lived in Oxford and so moved there with her. I spent my time in Oxford exploring the beautiful city. I sneaked into lectures at the various colleges and the passion for excitement, independence and adventure was ever burning. Eventually I ended up in Manchester at sixteen and things by this point had got bad and I was in desperate need for help. I found help from a good friend of mine and his late father. I got a house in Huddersfield and made many friends and many mistakes. One day whilst in Huddersfield it was raining and I was depressed, my sense of adventure took me into the Army Careers office and before I knew it I was in the Parachute Regiment and eventually I was married with a house and child in Northern Ireland.

Still not content I left the army after five years and ended up righting my wrongs and ultimately at University studying Law. Once at University the passion for travel burned more than ever and trips to the USA became frequent. That passion never stopped burning and still it burns brightly, even now, after almost eight weeks of travel I am still thirsty for more.

I have taught my kids that if ever they hide something from me, lie to me or do something they are fearful of admitting because of the consequences then they can get a sort of immunity. It is wide open to abuse but thus far neither have abused it. I believe this creates a trust where the kids feel they can tell me things that many kids would hide from their parents. The deal is simple, they come to me and say I need to talk about something. From that moment on there are no consequences and in most cases I promise not to mention it again.

Charlie came to me and asked to speak, he told me he didn’t want to go home and asked if feeling like that was ok. He said that whilst he was at home he always wanted to be away and when away he craved for more. I asked Abi if she felt the same and she agreed.

Many times on the trip we have been short of time or unable to everything the kids have asked to do and the almost normal response to that from either Charlie or Abi is “I’m coming back when I’m older” It is this sense of adventure that I had as a child but was not directed in a manner it should have been. My parents weren’t interested in seeing what the world had to offer, content with the little lives they had made for themselves and always busy planning for the future – My dad died aged 54.

That’s not to say we should ignore the future, of course we should plan for it, but I genuinely believe you should live for now. Not every one finds solstice in travel, not everyone finds what we do amazing and for many it is not their slice of paradise. But for us it is. It is this belief that nowhere is out of reach; that no dream is too big and that if you want something then go get it. But do it with humour, with rigour and with understanding. Never mock tradition, never discriminate, never assume and always embrace change. If you don’t know then ask, don’t be ignorant to other peoples beliefs, but above all appreciate. Even the smallest things, always show appreciation and respect but above all remember one thing – You can do anything you want, but you must apply yourself and believe in your abilities.

Thanks again for everyone that has made this trip possible, to the people we have met along the way, friends we have made and people that have gone out of their way for us. Here we find ourselves at the end of another trip and tomorrow we will head to Tel Aviv and spend the day on the beach before heading home.

I usually finish the blog with a sentimental paragraph but this time I don’t think it would be necessary, we haven’t found each other – We already had each other. The trip hasn’t brought us any closer, we were close already, and we have not formed a bond like no other, we had it already. It has just reinforced the belief between us and the closeness which we share. The trip was one person short of perfect, but we coped, managed and had the time of our lives.

So I guess all there really is to say is thanks – We’ve had a blast and really are living life and loving every second.

Thanks for reading.

One of the oldest inhabited places on earth, Israel has been accommodating people since about 2800BC, it is central to many religions and was of course where Jesus was born (down the road in Bethlehem) and spent much of his life. Predominantly a Jewish country Israel is a country that many people have formed pre conceptions of. For example, Syria and Lebanon, two of its neighbours refuse to acknowledge the existence of Israel and a stamp in your passport will exclude you from entry to most Arab countries. In short, throughout the Arab world Israel doesn’t have many friends.

Looking for a place that Jews could call their home the biblical home of Palestine was the choice country. Inhabited by Arabs but run by the British, Jews began to slowly but surely inhabit Palestine. After World War Two and the extermination of over six million Jews many Jewish families relocated to the relative safety of Palestine. The British had been keen to make Palestine a Jewish and Arab country but when it became clear the Arabs were out right pissed off with the idea the British bailed and left the now huge Jewish and Arab populations to sort the mess out themselves.

A war broke out and in 1948 after defeating the invading armies of Egypt, Iraq, Syria and Jordan Israel was born and suddenly the Arabs that had called Palestine their home for centuries were out on their ear. After the war some effort toward creating peace was made and at the East of the Israel an area called the West Bank was left under Jordan control and inhabited by Arabs or Palestinians and to the South West a small area called the Gaza strip was likewise left under Egyptian control.

Further fighting broke out and eventually Israel claimed the West Bank and Gaza strip. Neither Jordan or Egypt agreed and it wasn’t long before terrorist strikes started against the Israel homeland from both West Bank and Gaza. Yasser Arafat was at the helm and after a while Israel let Gaza and the West Bank return to Palestine control.

No one really has found peace in Israel and Gaza though the West Bank has chilled out a bit, Gaza regularly throws bombs into Israel and suicide attacks are sadly common place throughout Israel, particularly in Jerusalem. Israel has all but cut itself of from both the West Bank where poverty is rife and Gaza where it is pretty much a free for all and as such no government on earth deems it safe to travel to.

Of course the Arabs have held a lifelong grudge and with Gaza promising daily to harm the exceptionally strong economy of Israel security is tight. Soldiers roam the street armed to the teeth, machine guns, assault rifles and all carried by teenagers is a common sight in Israel. Military checkpoints are regular and don’t expect to enter any public building without having your bag X Rayed. Even the American’s aren’t this paranoid – But in truth the Israelis have every reason to be.

The airport which we leave from ‘Ben Gurion’ is about half way between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. The distance between the two cities is about half an hour and so with little time I had to decide which we would visit. Tel Aviv is supposed to be the San Francisco of the East and whilst I love San Francisco it’s a bit formulated. A bit fake, a beautiful place nonetheless, yes I love the Wharf, the hills and will always remember driving across the Golden Gate Bridge at 3am blasting out Stereophonics in the worst rain California had seen in fifty years. But Jerusalem on the other hand is widely recognised (and is actually a UNESCO World Heritage Site) as being one of the most beautiful, historical cities on the planet. There is no where on earth that represents such religious importance to so many religions than Jerusalem and nowhere is this more prevalent than the Old City.

The bus ditched us at the Central station and the first thing we noticed was how modern it was, I guess really I imagined Jerusalem to look either like a tired Beirut, worn down from years of wars and trouble, with a few churches dotted about. What we actually got was an uber modern megalopolis sprawled across the mountains and with buses that had Wi-Fi and a brand new tram system that cuts through the heart of the city in minutes.

Few things are written in English since Hebrew is the national language and so a bit of head scratching and asking locals and we jumped on the tram and pretty soon bailed at the old city.

What confronted us was huge walls surrounding a city that we could not see, except for the odd church higher than the 20ft castle like city walls. Jaffa gate was where we needed to be and is where all the budget places are. Hotels in Israel are massively expensive and most are around £50+ for even the most basic place consisting of a bed and a ceiling.

Now, when choosing a room the most important thing for me is safety, followed extremely closely by cleanliness and the first few places we looked at were disgusting. Absolutely minging places and when I was being asked fifty quid for the room I felt like handing out a head butt for the cheek. After a few places it was clear for our last night, standards would have to drop, I grabbed my guidebook and started to look for where a collection of hotels, perhaps mid range would be. An America girl asked if she could help. She was a Jewish girl and after I told her our plight she said to go with her and she would see if she could help. We went to her house and chilled out for a bit and though she didn’t have space for us she brought her grandma to us who is Armenian and who said we could stay with her. An elderly woman she took us round the corner and said we could stay in her house for the night. She gave me the keys and said she was staying in the house upstairs. I asked how much she wanted and she refused anything. So here I sit now in an Armenian Lady’s house, at no cost in the Old City of Jerusalem.

Actually I am going to stock up her fridge for her on the sly and so when we leave she will return and find that she has shopping she didn’t have, we’ll be gone before she notices just in case she takes insult by it!

As the crow flies the Old City isn’t that big. Less than a kilometre wide and about a Kilometre long it is but a maze of alleyways and set into quarters. There is the Muslim quarter, Jewish Quarter, Armenian Quarter and Christian Quarter. Here the religions live in their communities in safety and freedom. The Old City is filled with stunning religious buildings. It is home to some of the world’s most important religious sights and makes for a magical and mysterious time exploring the unique city. The Old city is named regularly throughout the bible and it here that the first Christian Martyr was stoned to death. It must have been strong stuff back then….. Ok, there is also the Wailing Wall, underground tunnels of cities gone by, St Anne’s Church (The Virgin Mary’s parents lived here) The station of the Cross which is accepted as being the place where Jesus was forced to drag his cross en route to his place of death. The Temple Mount is also here which is supposedly where Cain and Able to used chill, Noah also spent time here and it is also where Abraham offered his son Isaac for sacrifice. Muslims believe that actually the Temple Mount is where Mohammed went to join Allah in Heaven. The final place of Jesus life is here too, The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is the place where Jesus was crucified, buried and resurrected. King David’s tomb is here and so is the place where Jesus’ mother the Virgin Mary passed on.

One of the most moving films I have ever seen and probably one of the most life changing and moving films ever made is Schindlers List. Well, Oskar Schindler is laid to rest here too.

That list is by no means exhaustive but gives a good idea of just how important and historically rich the Old city is. There is no transport allowed in the city and so it’s just a case of mooching along, getting lost and experiencing the city of such importance it is visited and inhabited by people from all over the world.

Not that I like to namedrop but we bumped into someone famous too. I was trying to take the photo and because the wall was so slim I had to find an alcove and get inside so I could get the correct distance between the kids and the background at the right balance. I saw someone to the side waiting for me to take the photo. She was smiling and with a friend and said hi to the kids. As I looked I heard Charlie say “Are you Susan Boyle” and she said “yes sweety” I climbed out and said thanks for waiting. I thought Charlie was taking the piss, it seemed he wasn’t and we exchanged a few pleasantries and went along our way. The kids were star struck J

Whilst not intentional I think we found the perfect place to finish the trip, what better place than here where we can experience so many religions and visiting so many sacred and holy places.

Whilst we aren’t religious that doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate religion and respect those that practice it. If truth be known I find some religious buildings to be amongst some of the most beautiful and tranquil places there are. I find Religion intriguing, interesting and above all we revel in its mystique.

Our final day in Jordan started like every day, with a scam. Keen to bail out of the country we had now come to despise we woke up at around 5.45am to get the first bus to Aqaba. As we checked out of the hotel there was a guy in the lobby and I asked him where the bus stop was. “There are no buses to Aqaba, you must take taxi” Now, there is some truth in that statement, there are few buses to Aqaba but there is one at 6.30am one at 8.00am and one around midday. I told him I knew there was and could he at least tell us where the bus stop was. He was adamant there was no bus and just would not tell us. But guess what – He was a taxi driver and could take us now – Imagine that.

One of the most useless books ever penned was Lonely Planet Middle East and just about every time I have referred to it on this trip it has been inaccurate and at times completely wrong. Serious, wipe your arse and look at the result – That is more use than LP Middle East. I put my faith that the bus stop was where it said in the book and so we headed out of the hotel under the darkness and cold desert night. Within a few minutes a mini bus pulled up and the driver asked where I was going. I told him Aqaba and he said 5JD each. I knew the fare was 3JD and so refused. He told me it was the tourist price and no one would take me to Aqaba unless I paid it. His bus was completely empty and so knowing it was a government bus I took the number plate and told him I would report him to the police for refusing us access to the bus because we wouldn’t pay the higher fare.

Suddenly he was open to discussion. He told me the bus was due to go at 7am and If we waited we could pay the 3JD each. But if we wanted him to leave immediately what would I pay. Knowing we had a long day ahead of us I agreed to pay him 4JD per person if he left now. He smiled and I was privy to his unbrushed teeth and away we went.

Watching the Sun Rise over the desert never gets boring, the sun glows a fiery orange and the landscape glows a stunning red colour. I have seen the sun rise many times over the clouds when we have been in the air and it is stunning and I felt was the best way to watch the sun rise – And until you see the sun rise above sand dunes it is.

The journey to Aqaba took around two hours. Aqaba sits on the North coast of the Red Sea and is as far South as you can go in Jordan. It is a border town for Egypt, Saudi Arabia and Israel. The taxi to the Israel border took about fifteen minutes and cost 5JD.

As we pulled up at the car park Charlie was excitedly saying we were almost free of Jordan. It is no exaggeration when we say we have really hated Jordan, it has actually united us and we have really grown together in Jordan, united by the sheer hatred toward the Kingdom.

Jordan makes Delhi look like Disney World, almost every single person we dealt with or met in Jordan tried to rip us off. People would say that not everyone was like that – Then proceed to try and scam us. Petra and the Dead Sea aside (though both places had their moments) everywhere else we went in Jordan was a nightmare and I would seriously with every part of my advise against visiting Jordan. It actually used to be that people would visit Jordan and go to Petra and then bail out of the country all in one day. To try and stop this happening the government of Jordan doubled the Visa fee, increased the entrance to Petra for day visitors to 90JD (£85) and then introduced an exit tax of 4JD. By March this year visitors to Petra are down 25% on the previous year and overall visitors to Jordan are down a whopping 50%.

Discussing the government or Royal Family in a negative light is illegal in Jordan and carries a jail sentence. If you ask me that’s their way of forcing people to put up and shut up. Since we’re no longer in Jordan I can say that both the Government and Royal Family are a bunch of greedy, arrogant bastards.

Upon approaching the border which is called Wadi Arab, you show your passport and then proceed to departures. We were the only people at the border and had to knock someone up. He told us the exit tax was 8JD per person. It isn’t, I looked on the government website the night before and knew it is 4JD. I told him this and he just shrugged and shut the window on me. I went to passport control and they refused to stamp my passport until I paid the departure tax. I asked how much it was and he said he didn’t know, sniggering as he said it. We left and tried to sneak out of the country but got busted and marched back to the tax office. I had no option but to pay the 24JD, this is Jordan.

Once back at passport control the guy asked for 2JD per passport for it to be stamped for exit. I refused and told him I didn’t give a shit if he stamped it or not, I would never be returning to his awful country anyway. He told me we would not be welcome anyway, stamped the passports and then dropped them on the floor in front of me. I picked them up and started to walk off, he called for the receipts from departure tax, I dropped them on the floor and continued walking. Minutes later we were free of Jordan and at the Israeli border. I turned round and shouted the guy he looked and I gave him the two finger goodbye. There was not a thing he could do about it, the kids and I then celebrated the fact we were free of Jordan. It was only fair that Charlie mooned Jordan. The guard was shouting at us going mental, showing your arse to a country, particularly an Arab one is probably frowned upon, but since we were in Israel there was not a thing he could do about it. And he knew it, best of all he knew that I knew it too.

As we walked away hand in hand under the welcome to Israel sign we smiled at each other and swore that we would never step foot in Jordan again.

Finally we were free, finally we were out of Jordan.

Getting into Israel can be a lengthy process. It is common knowledge that after doing their military service young girls go to work for customs and the guys for security. Armed with the knowledge that we would soon be encountering a young woman in early to mid twenties that would decide not only if we would gain access to Israel but how long it would take I sorted my hair out, brushed my beard, ate a mint and styled my chest hair. I might have done a few press ups too if it hadn’t meant Id have made myself look a dick.

We were greeted by smiles and a warm welcome. Security at the border is understandably tight and is completely manned by young guys and girls. The guys are all your usual macho looking 23 year old type, huge arms, plain clothes and a M14 in their hand. They look slick and are guarding the absolutely stunning, sexy and slim Israeli girl – Maybe 24 years old, tight jeans, tight top, revolver on her waist that makes her look so much more sexy. Charlie and I pinched ourselves to make sure we were still on earth. Once we had been deemed applicable to enter we were passed on with a smile and had our bags scanned; Again more smiles and sexiness oozing from everyone. Still we were the only people at the border, and as we approached the counter to have our passports checked I almost went blind. I could not take any more sexy Israeli women and yet there I was facing one who was the only thing standing between us and Israel. I turned on the charm and I swear she was flirting with me. Not one to complain, she asked where we were going in Israel and I explained we were flying home from Tel Aviv the next day. She was like “Oh no that is so sad, you should stay longer, have some fun” I was in heaven. We stood and chatted for about ten minutes, just general natter about some of places we’d been, how long she had worked on the border etc. A serious point actually to note is that when entering Israel never say you are going to the West Bank. I will explain in the next post, but if ever asked at any border in Israel simply say Tel Aviv or Jerusalem. Mentioning a destination in the West Bank is sure fire way to deportation. I didn’t get asked for any more info or have to prove anything. She asked if we were staying in Eilat (the border town in Israel) and I said we were heading North, she told me it was a shame and passed back our passports. As I checked the passports just to be sure she had stamped us in I saw she had written her email address on the security slip. I walked off thinking I was a real Stavros. The doubters are probably thinking ‘kerching – UK Visa’ But the reality is you’ve either got it or you haven’t. I can’t help being God’s gift to Israeli women and you should embrace my awesomeness and skills.

We hopped in a taxi and within minutes were at the bus station we needed to be at ‘Egged’ Actually pronounced Egg’Ed. Not a wind up but one of the most efficient bus services in the world. About thirty quid later we were headed North. Pretty much following the border with Jordan all the way North we looked across at the kingdom and smiled.

Headed toward one of the most beautiful and historic cities on earth we look forward to Jerusalem with anticipation and excitement.

Welcome to Israel, and what a welcome it really is.

Our day in Jordan started like any other – With a scam. I had decided we would head to the Citadel and mooch up there for the morning. It was about 8.30am and finding the bus was a nightmare, everyone was trying to scam us left, right and centre. I almost gave up but a guy came over and asked if we needed help. I told him how pissed off we were with Jordan and how I had just had enough of it. He was saying how not everyone is like that, he apologised and shook my hand apologetically asking me not to lose faith. I told him he was the first Jordanian that hadn’t tried to rip us off in some way. He introduced himself as Ahmed, which translated to English means ‘I am a dodgy bastard and am going to cream you for every penny I can’ But first impressions were sound.

When the bus finally came I watched everyone (including Ahmed) pay 1JD. When the guy came to get our money I couldn’t understand him so I asked Ahmed how much he paid, he said he didn’t know. How can you not know I asked, the conductor said something to him and Ahmed said “5JD per person” I told him what a bastard he was and that he was no different from anyone else in Jordan and that is why I despise the country so much. He just looked sheepish and was doing that snigger we have come so used to in Jordan. I told the driver to stop and we got off the bus. I was going mad at the people on the bus and had finally had enough. Jordan had finally broken me.

I decided we would just go back to the hotel and spend the day watching movies. At the hotel I was talking to the owner (John, a guy from New Zealand but now a Jordanian citizen) I was telling him how we felt about the country and he said that he doesn’t know many people who leave Jordan having enjoyed it. He said my story is a common one. He was leaving for Aqaba which is at the far South of Jordan and asked if we wanted to go with him. I said thanks but there was nothing for us down there. He reminded us that Petra was en route and if we wanted he would drop us there. I moaned about the ticket price and that I refused to pay almost fifty quid to get in. He said he would get a ticket for us and we could use that. If it worked then great, if not then we could just stay in Wadi Musa for the night and then head to Israel the next day using the Aqaba border crossing to Eilat in Southern Israel. With nothing to lose and a sure fire way out of Amman we hopped into his Porsche Cayenne and before long Amman was a distant memory as we headed South down the Desert Highway.

The distance is about 230km and the desert highway is just that – A highway through the desert – Desolate, boring and nothing to see.

A couple of hours later we pulled into the sleepy desert town of Wadi Musa which is where people going to Petra stay. John had recommended a hotel and got us a room there for 25JD, we ditched our bags and headed to Petra. By now he was in a bit of a rush and so left us with a ticket that cost 1JD (as oppose to 50JD) We said our goodbyes and he refused to take petrol money from us, all he asked was that we recommend his hotel ‘Palace Hotel – Amman’

Petra is a city over two thousand years old carved into the rocks and spanning an area that takes days, if not weeks to fully explore. It is a UNESCO world heritage site, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World and also listed as one of the ‘places to see before you die’ by the BBC, National Geographic channel and Discovery. In any sense of the word it is widely recognised as being one of the most amazing places on earth.

As we got waved past the entrance I was stunned and ecstatic that we had got in. I was overwhelmed and we quickly began our descent down the sandy path toward the entrance of the Siq. The Siq is a narrow gorge that goes for about a Kilometre before opening up to the Treasury and not only the symbol of Jordan but one of the most recognisable and widely acclaimed buildings from the ancient world.

Now, many people have tried to document the beauty of Petra, many words have been written since its discovery in 1812 and it is widely accepted that none have done Petra justice. No author has captured the sheer enigmatic beauty of this amazing place and for that very reason I am not even going to bother. I simply do not have the vocabulary required to convey just how amazing Petra is to the reader. Anything I write would do it a huge injustice and sell it far shorter than I intended. In short, what I am trying to say is that Petra is so amazing I just cannot put it into words and so I’m not even going to embarrass myself trying.

The kids absolutely loved exploring the many places along the walk to the Monastery which is up about 800 steps. Charlie was excited that Indiana Jones was filmed here and considered himself to be the new Indy.

We met Bedouin people and drank tea over camp fires and stunning scenery. We felt a real part of the world we were in which Abi said was “like a dream” It really was surreal. Like nothing we have ever known – Unforgettable.

There is a lot of walking involved and we were in the site around eight hours, we walked around ten miles and loved every minute of it. I have been fortunate enough to see some of the best things the world offers, I have flown over the Grand Canyon in a tin pot airplane, seen the Pyramids, Climbed the Great wall of China, been to Rome many times, seen the Hagias Sofia, Taj Mahal, all of the world’s great buildings in the US, Chitchen Itza, seen the Northern Lights and stood in awe at some of the tallest mountains in the world, Halong Bay, the Giants Causeway and that is just what I can think off the top of my head.

Petra blows every single one of those away. I am being completely genuine Petra completely blew us away and left us dumbstruck. It is undoubtedly one the best places we have ever been on earth and in turn it gave us one of the best days we have ever had whilst travelling.

I tried to find some words written by someone that perfectly portrayed Petra and I couldn’t find anything that I felt described it as it should have been. I did however find a quite touching poem written by J.W Burgon in 1845 called ‘Petra’ Though he had never seen the place he envisaged it perfectly from what he had been told about it. Using his imagination he could never have known just how right he had got it. Just how perfectly he described Petra.

It seems no work of Man’s creative hand, By labor wrought as wavering fancy planned; But from the rock as if by magic grown, Eternal, silent, beautiful, alone! Not virgin-white like that old Doric shrine, Where erst Athena held her rites divine; Not saintly-grey, like many a minster fane, That crowns the hill and consecrates the plain; But rose-red as if the blush of dawn, That first beheld them were not yet withdrawn; The hues of youth upon a brow of woe, Which Man deemed old two thousand years ago. Match me such marvel save in Eastern clime, A rose-red city half as old as time.

Whatever guide book you read they will all say the same thing when it comes to Jordanian people – That they are honest, friendly and welcoming people. Personally I think it’s bull shit. I have found the majority of Jordanians we have encountered to be dishonest, hostile and completely unwilling to help or at times even acknowledge us. Truth be known we can’t stand it here and can’t wait to bail to Israel.

Still whilst here we tried to make good of a bad situation and so decided to head to one of the most unique places on the planet.

The Dead Sea is the lowest point on planet earth. It is a mass of water that is unconnected to any other sea (hence the name) and is about nine times saltier than usual sea water. There is only microscopic life forms able to survive there due to the extreme salinity of the water and so the chance of getting munched on by a shark as you chill are reassuringly nonexistent. Such is the density of the salt in the water that one can float. There is also the attraction of the mud which is supposedly life changing, and so it draws people from all over keen to experience this unique and special place.

Jordan being Jordan there is of course no bus that goes from the capitol city to the most visited place in the part of the country. But the day went a little like this…

We had to take a taxi to Muhajireen bus station for the mini buses that head in the direction of the Dead Sea. The Taxi driver was adamant there were no buses and as we pulled up he was telling me how the buses were all going in the opposite direction – Guess what though, he could take us. Imagine that. The fare was 2.05JD which he kindly rounded up to 3JD, I told him no chance and gave him a 5JD note, he claimed not to have change despite the fact I could see a load of change in his ashtray. I pointed to it and then he counted out 0.50JD coins into my hand making out they were worth 1JD each. I busted him and he just laughed. This is not an isolated incident, this is Jordan and everything is like that. And Jordan is not a poor country either, the EU has judged Jordan to be as wealthy as many European countries. People here have money, no doubt about that. It is not desperation that drives their willingness to con, cheat and scam – Just a simple greed.

Once we got out of the taxi we found the mini bus going where we needed to be. The fare was a total of 2JD all in.

The journey was about 45 minutes and we got kicked off at Ramha, some 18km’s from the Dead Sea. In Amman I had figured that generally you pay around 1JD per 5 km and so was expecting to pay maybe 3JD for the journey. The men were practically ejaculating in their pants and slavering at the mouth as they sniggered whilst telling us it was 20JD for the journey. I told them what scum they were (it is 20JD from Amman to the Dead Sea which is 50km) and started to head off through the desert. Before long a car pulled up and asked where we were going. It was a Servee (shared taxi) He asked for a total of 4JD and we jumped in.

A little while later we arrived at Amman Beach which is actually nowhere near Amman and nothing like a beach, but it is where all the cheap arses and independent travellers to the Dead Sea end up. Entry was 1JD each which I thought was awesome – Until I was stopped and politely informed that since I was a foreigner it was actually fifteen times more for me and ten times more for the kids. A Jordanian family of one adult and two kids will shell out 2JD (£1.90) and I was being asked for 35JD (About £33) I was pissed right off and eventually he let Abi in for free. It is absolutely disgusting and had we not travelled that far, it not been that hot and not been the end of the trip I would have told him to stick the Dead Sea up his arse and left.

Once at the fringes of the sea I could see the thickness of the water, it looked really thick and as we stepped over the salt crystals that had formed at the beach it looked and felt out of this world. Opposite us was the deserts of Israel, at our feet was crystals and in the water were people seemingly weightless in the water all floating around effortlessly.

There are a few safety concerns to be aware of which I explained to the kids. Basically if the water gets in your mouth it tastes disgusting (I can vouch for that) If you swallow it you can get seriously Ill the salt content is such that children can get severely ill. If it gets in your eyes it seriously burns (I can vouch for that too) If you try and swim on your front you can drown as it is not possible to swim below the surface as you normally would.

Once in the first thing you notice is how warm it is, and how thick it feels. It feels almost oily, you lean back and genuinely float, you don’t have to consciously do anything other than be there. The sea does the rest and I have to say it is one of the most memorable experiences I have ever had. The kids absolutely loved it and we felt completely weightless.

I went out quite deep to see if I could stand up and still float and you do, you simply bob along in the water like a Fishermans float about chest deep despite the fact you are in water about fifty foot deep. It is both amazing and completely weird at the same time.

After about five minutes the water started to sting parts of my body, little cuts I didn’t realise I had. Charlie had started to complain that his bum was stinging really bad, my ball sack was stinging too (I must have had itchy balls at some point) and then Abi piped up “See this is the problem being a girl and having bits, it’s like a little hole and water gets in it – Dad my bits are proper stinging and Charlie thinks it’s funny” We were all feeling the effects and so headed out and showered off. We basically repeated that for a few hours, went in the sea for ten minutes then had to go wash off for ten minutes then back in the sea etc.

There was the usual dick head tourist (no doubt English) laid back reading the newspaper straight out of the 1970’s. Then there were people covered in mud thinking they were slick and then wondering just how they were going to get clean again and that actually it might not have been that good of an idea after all.

Amman beach is off the Dead Sea highway and so I asked at the information desk how to get a bus back to Amman. There were no buses back to Amman, no where a taxi could take us where we could connect with one – Nope. Not a single bus came anywhere the Dead Sea. There were none from Ramha where we had got dropped off, in fact buses drive from Amman to Ramha and then just self destruct since they don’t do the return journey. But guess what – There was a taxi driver just outside who would take us to Amman no problem.

We met a wall of defiance and it was apparent no one was going to help us and so we crossed the highway, actually stood opposite a cactus deep in the desert and I stuck my arm out hoping to cadge a lift off someone. Sure enough, and to my absolute astonishment a car stopped with a man and woman in the front. I said we were going to Amman and they told us to hop in. The woman started to get out of the front and into the back but I refused. A few seconds later we were off.

In some countries paying for a lift despite the fact you have hitch hiked is customary and so I got my wallet out and the driver quickly refused. We jumped out and I was stunned, first of all that we had managed to hitch hike out of the desert back to Amman, second of all it hadn’t cost me a kidney and thirdly that was definitive proof, though the only proof that not everyone in Jordan is a scamming, cheating bastard.

The euphoria was short lived and as we jumped in a taxi to take us back to downtown Amman I quickly realised the driver had ‘accidentally’ forgot to reset the meter back to 0.25 (flag fall) and was in fact still at 1.75. He completely lost his grasp on the English language and it wasn’t until I opened the door to get out at the traffic lights that miraculously he quickly got a burst of almost instant Rosetta Stone, regained his grasp on the English language and reset the meter.

The fact is we have had enough of Jordan now and despite the fact we had an amazing time at the Dead Sea we really can’t wait to get out of here. We had intended to leave tomorrow (Saturday) but in Israel they stop working on Saturdays and so travel or indeed most things are near impossible. Crossing a border on the Shabbat would make what it is widely regarded as one of the world’s most laborious and difficult border crossings infinitely worse.

So here is to yet another day in the Kingdom of Jordan where you will be welcomed with open arms and accepted like a long lost family member – Yeah right, more like here is to another day of scams, dishonesty and hostility.

We genuinely cannot wait to get out of here.

The penultimate stop on the trip is Jordan. More or less landlocked except for a tidgy bit of the Red Sea at the far South, Jordan is surrounded by countries that are all currently hot beds of war, revolutions and turmoil. At the North is Syria, a country that is massacring its own people and it is pretty much all out civil war. To the North East is Iraq, a country that was such a threat to the Western World due to the WMD’s that were never found we raged all out war and in the process of giving the Iraqis a freedom they never asked for tens of thousands of innocent people have been killed, and we are currently in the process of leaving with our tails between our legs; The needless loss of lives, a country in a state of disrepair, for what?

To the South East is Saudi Arabia, the centre of Islam. For non Muslims it is not a place you want to fortuitously stumble upon, it is near impossible for non believers to gain entry and to be honest with the security risks who would want to chance it.

Egypt is at the far South though not technically joined, cities there are currently under siege and the FCO remains adamant that Egypt should be a no go for British Citizens. That leaves Israel and the Palestine Territories to the West. We will be visiting Israel shortly so I will give the info about there in due course. Needless to say Israel has its problems – Huge problems actually. That’s a story for a different day though.

So the fact Jordan is peaceful and welcoming despite its intimidating neighbours begs the question – For how long. Revolutions are spreading throughout the Middle East like wildfire and so sat here now I believe it is genuinely a question of when, as oppose to if.

The flight left Sharjah airport around 9am and the entire aircraft was full of knob heads. The dick behind me let his kid repeatedly kick my seat prior to take off. I asked him to stop and he was just smiling as though to say “he is only a kid” Personally I don’t give a shit, how about I sit and kick you in the head and let’s see how long it takes for that to piss you off. The guy in front put his seat back before we had even started to taxi to the run way. He was made to put it up, people’s phones were ringing as we were taking off, people were getting up and walking about as we were still in the initial climb. I desperately hoped for some turbulence – that would teach them. Otherwise the flight was uneventful which is just how I like them and we landed into Amman Airport some 3 hours later at 11am. (Time difference of -1hr)

Off the plane we went to get our visa. The ATM scammed me again (of the three times an ATM has scammed me two have been at an airport, before immigration) and so now £80 has left my account and yet another dispute will have to be opened when I return. The Visa was until a few months back 10JD each (about £9) but it was doubled and so about sixty quid later we had some pathetic postage stamps in our passport and a smile from the officer that had just creamed us.

The Visa is for thirty days but if you are staying for that length of time you have to register with the police. We aren’t and so for us it’s irrelevant.

Once in arrivals we got hounded by taxi drivers, their breath stank and I politely declined, looking for the bus stop. Which I knew there was. Every single taxi driver told me there was no bus, I wondered if I had got my info wrong and so went to the official airport information “No, there are no buses, the only way into Amman (35km) is to take a taxi” I asked for prices and was being told 100JD (£90) I just knew I was being scammed and so went outside to think. I saw the bus stop and went over, yes, there were buses running 3JD for adults and 1.5JD for kids. The scamming bastards, even the information office had tried it on. I enquired as to the taxi fare. It turns out it is set by the government at 17JD – not 100JD. (£14 not £90)

Like most Asian cities there are several bus stations. We had been ditched at North station which is about 1.5km from where we needed to be. I knew that no journey within Amman itself will ever cost more than 2JD. Yet I was getting quoted 20JD for the mile long journey (£18) Drivers were getting in my face and laughing telling me no one would take us for less than 20JD, it was 20km etc… They tried to get intimidating but it didn’t work. I saw a young woman waiting for a bus and I told her what was going on and she laughed and told me that Jordanian taxi drivers are scum of the earth. I should report them to the police at the other side of the station. She said the journey should be 1JD. I went back to the drivers and said I would pay 2JD if they took me. Again they stood their ground and refused.

It was forty degrees, we were exhausted and now this. The roads surrounding the station are all dual carriage ways and so impossible to hail a taxi or cross. I phoned Gemma and asked her to help me find a hotel nearby but she fobbed me off saying she was busy. We were, for the first time on the whole trip stuck and I felt completely helpless.

I decided to head over to the police and ask for their help. Expecting them to fob us off they couldn’t have been more help. They were apologising for the drivers and we left our bags at the stand and went with one officer to the drivers. He told them all to leave the station and to not come back. He booted out about six drivers who were by now pleading with him to let them stay. I had the biggest cheesy grin ever and the kids and I waved at them as they drove off.

The police put us in a taxi and sternly told the driver to charge us only 2JD. We were off, the driver asked what was happening and I explained. I told him I was pissed off with Jordan and he held up the back of his hand. He pointed to the creases on his fingers and explained how they were all the same but all at different heights. The point he was trying to get across was that just because something looks the same, it doesn’t mean it is. He apologised for the hassle we had got from other drivers and begged me not to judge all Jordanians by their standards.

The place to be in Amman is downtown, it’s a diminutive area near the Citadel and Roman amphitheatre. The roads are teeming with budget hotels, restaurants and shops. The first hotel we went to wasn’t really what we was looking for and the guy suggested a different place down the road. We headed there and found a perfect little oasis. Prices are higher for accommodation than much of Asia, though cheaper than Dubai. Where we are now has free wifi and satellite TV and is costing 25JD per night which is reasonable, but not cheap by Asian standards.

Jordan is pretty much covered by the Arabian desert and so what you get in Amman is what you would expect from a desert country. The houses are all high, square buildings united in sandy colours. If ever you have watched a James Bond movie where he has gone to the Middle East then it was probably filmed in Amman because it looks exactly the same.

The city is modern, but the buildings, and inside the buildings are well and truly stuck in the 70’s. Tacky chandeliers hang from the ceilings, walls are mirrored and the windows are all nicotine stained.

The men all look like greasy porn stars with white flamboyant shirts unbuttoned down to the naval showing their overtly hairy chests – Skin tight jeans with a cig in their hand. The women are what I have come to expect of Middle Eastern women – Gorgeous, slim and sexy (until they get to about 40 then it is time to trade in for a new model)

The plan for Jordan was to head South to the stunning Petra, one of the seven wonders of the world it draws people from every corner of the earth. But when I sat and worked things out it would have meant spending two days travelling and trekking miles in between. It would have also added around £100 to the trip and for something that would be a chore for Abi, it just didn’t seem fair. The thing is, by the time the kids get to bed in the UK it will be early hours Tuesday morning and they have school that same day. To make the last few days full of travel and hiking in forty plus degree weather I didn’t feel was fair. I am absolutely gutted we won’t now be going but I expect a lot from the kids and have expected more from them on this trip than ever before. They have delivered on every account and have been resilient and adaptive to everything I have thrown in front of them or asked of them.

The least I could do is make the last few days as relaxing as possible. Even if that means I am missing out on a dream.

In spite of the fact we will not now be visiting Petra I do have something special planned for the kids. Something so unique there is nowhere else on earth like it, something so off the beaten path of usual holidaymakers few Western children will have ever experienced it, something they will love, something they will remember for the rest of their lives – Something relaxing 🙂

When thinking of what to do in Dubai we had to consider two things. First of all the heat, it is difficult to convey to those that have not experienced such a climate just how hot it gets. It was 48 degrees on the first day and 55 degrees on the second and 52 on the third. That is hot, exceptionally hot and pretty much as hot as it gets anywhere on earth. The best way to describe it is to consider a sauna, how the heat feels so close, so oppressive. That is what it is like here, only hotter than a sauna, some 15 – 20 degrees hotter. So whereas in the UK we are advised not to stay in a sauna for longer than 15 minutes, there are panic buttons and everything, try spending an entire day in it. It becomes difficult and saps every bit of energy you have, you are covered from head to toe in sweat. Oppressive is the best way to describe it, your skin burns in minutes and people die.

The second thing we had to consider was costs. Prices in Dubai for things such as food are about 50% less than the UK, public transport and Taxi’s are much cheaper, if you smoke, 200 Marlboro will cost around £8 and drinks are about 80% cheaper than the UK. The average cost of a pint in a restaurant is around £6 and a bottle of wine £20. The only place in Dubai you can drink alcohol is in bars and restaurants. You simply cannot justify the costs and so alcohol is of the agenda for me here.

The real costs however are for attractions. There are three water parks here that I know of and the entry for the three of us pushes near to a hundred quid for one day. Skiing, and the aquarium, dolphinarium are all £60+ Clothes in Dubai are also insanely expensive, Dubai mall claims to house every single international brand on earth. It is the biggest mall on earth and is ridiculously expensive, we went into Versace Home and saw a snide chair for $15,000, in Diesel the average pair of jeans cost $500, just ridiculous.

So the mission plan for Dubai was simple, have a good time but don’t be forced to remortgage our house.

The first day we headed straight for the mall and Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building. At 7pm (though it didn’t start until 7.30pm) there is the world’s biggest fountain show. Basically it dances to Arabian music, the backdrop being the amazing Burj Khalifa it makes the Bellagio fountains look like a few kids with water pistols in a pond. The kids loved it and combined with lasers and lights it was really good, and free. This set the scene for what we came to expect in Dubai actually. It is almost as if before building something, the architects fly to wherever in the world the current best is, they look at it and then not just better it but completely blow it off the face of the earth.

Every mall has loads of Western Fast food joints and I genuinely can’t think of any here we haven’t seen, they have all the American ones, British ones, I’m talking about Taco Bell, Panda Express, Harry Ramsdens, the lot. Think of a fast food place – They have it in Dubai.

On the second day it was 55 degrees and within minutes the kids were telling me it was just too hot for them. Everywhere in Dubai is air conditioned (even bus stops) and so we grabbed a taxi to Creek side park. One of the biggest parks in Dubai it runs along the creek and is home to the Botanical Flower garden, kids play areas and Children’s World. Entrance is about 50 pence each and we headed straight for Children’s world which is a science centre for kids. Think Eureka in Halifax, no make it about ten times bigger and infinitely better and charge a quid to get in. We spent around three hours in there and the kids absolutely loved it. Often when travelling they have to adapt to attractions that are years above them, they have to enjoy temples and forts and yet here we were enjoying something designed specifically for them. They loved it. We pretty much had the place to ourselves and when we left we walked around the park for a while. Again we were completely alone and we finally found a Dubai fail. The kids park was too hot to play in, the slides too hot, the swings too hot, everything. So as I lay there sunbathing on the grass they just sat and talked. After about fifteen minutes they were covered in sweat, and so we set off in search of the flower garden. It became clear quickly that both kids were struggling in the heat, Abi couldn’t keep her eyes open because of the sweat running into her eyes and Charlie was saying he was extremely lethargic. Usually we would bail to a cafe, have some air con, drinks and food and continue on but it was Ramadan and so nowhere was open. I knew there was a bus stop at the park entrance where we could cool down and so we headed there. Abi really struggled as we made our way there but perked up once we got inside and shut the door. Both kids were clearly suffering from heat exhaustion and so I left them in the bus stop and walked to the main road to hail a taxi. The heat is such that every step is hard work, if you move too fast the heat burns your limbs, as if blown by a 55 degree hair dryer. Salt stings your eyes and you look like you have just stepped out of a shower.

Having travelled all over India that day was the hottest heat we had ever experienced and so the usual rehydration kicked in. I didn’t have to force the kids to drink water, they were asking me for it. They drank around three litres each and when I inspected their urine I found both to be mildly dehydrated. It is easy to see why some people die in such heat.

The following day we headed for the beach. Jumeirah beach is one of the most famous beaches in the world and so it seemed like a good place to go. Besides, the hotel runs a shuttle there and so at 10am we set off.

It surprises me just how much green there is in Dubai, it is one of the worlds driest cities and it rains on average 1 day per year. No surprises then that when the citizens get free time here they head for the beach.

Jumeirah beach is well equipped with changing rooms and lockers and cafe’s and despite the fact it is a Muslim country topless bathing for males is allowed. On Mondays the beach is closed to all men and is female only, which I am a bit gutted about because had I know this yesterday I would have tried to sneak in to get a sly look. Emirate women are nothing short of beautiful, I’ve always had a thing for fair skinned Indian women, but most Emirate girls are fair skinned and absolutely stunning; Again, a Muslim country where few people wear the full hijab. Actually I would say I have seen more women in England wearing the full hijab than here in Dubai – A sign of defiance, a symbol of degradation, or a sign of freedom and choice? Whatever your opinion of the hijab is I can now confirm that having visited many Muslim countries I can confirm it is not forced upon all Muslims and in fact the vast majority don’t wear it. It is worth mentioning that women are treated equally here, whether than happens in practice I do not know – But certainly in public there is equal opportunities for all. Definitive proof that the Muslim religion is open to modernisation, despite what the sensationalists in the UK might have you believe.

Jumeirah beach is beautiful. Set against a back drop of palm trees the sand is milk white and as soft as talcum powder. The sea is a stunning turquoise colour and there are no waves or currents. The sea is around thirty degrees which is great at first, but then you realise that even the sea isn’t an escape from the brutal heat of the sun. The water stays at about 3 foot deep for around ten metres before gradually getting deeper. Around fifty metres out it was about 5 foot deep which makes the beach perfect for kids. We played water volleyball with the locals, made titties in the sand and loved every second. Because of the heat I had to control the kids’ exposure and so every twenty minutes or so I would bring them under our umbrella for ten minutes of shade and 300ml of water. It worked fine and though all of us are sunburned we managed to stay healthy and hydrated.

We spent five hours on the beach, we were completely devoid of energy, enthusiasm and as we left we were uncontrollably dripping in sweat. Charlie said that it was like walking under a shower and he was spot on. It was hotter than we had ever known. As we walked back to the pickup point for the bus we just could not do it. We had about 500 metres to walk which would usually take a few minutes. We simply could not walk it all at once and so had to stop every 75 metres to cool down in the air conditioned bus stops. I know it sounds unbelievable but the heat is so oppressive it is a killer.

Despite the heat we had a great day, the beach was perfect and has gone right up the scale to one of our favourite beaches in the world. It is certainly the best beach in the world for kids that we have ever been to, not as picturesque as some, but perfect in every other way.

The plan was that on our final day in the Emirates we would head a couple of hours West to Abu Dhabi. It is the richest city on the planet and if the cities wealth was divided equally then every person would have $1.8 million. Compare that to the $10,000 in the UK and you get the idea of the sheer wealth the city holds.

The problem we have is that the beach is just so dammed good and will probably be the last beach we go to on this holiday and so after having a chat with the kids we have decided that rather than go up to Abu Dhabi we will spend our last day at the beach.

That kind of wraps up Dubai and wraps up our time here. We came to Dubai expecting big things and what we got was a city so enthusiastic it is inspiring. It shows how yet again the UK is completely lacking on the world stage and is very quickly becoming insignificant as the places that remained dormant for decades are springing to life and becoming world leaders in their own right. The fastest growing city on the planet holds more modern achievements than most other countries. Dubai has a vision which is “To create an excellent city that provides the essence of success and comfort of living”

The city is obviously run like a business with success at its core. The citizens are all shareholders of this fascinating place and reap the rewards. Everything is tax free and so for things like electronics you get prices that are ridiculously cheap compared to the UK and people aren’t paying tax after tax whilst their salary remains 7% below inflation. Unemployment is one of the lowest in the world and moral amongst those that call this place home is one of the highest in the world.

Dubai is a world leader on many fronts and we have loved our time here – I just wish the UK wasn’t so arrogant and would take note of how things are done here. If someone could get on the phone to God and ask him to turn the temperature down about twenty degrees then this would probably be the single best place on earth to live.

We’ll be back, maybe we’ll move here, it’s certainly high on my agenda of things to do when we return to the UK.