Day 66
Sleeping location: Sheep holding area, 10km south of At-Tafilah, Jordan
Distance (km today/total): 71 / 5738
Estimated climb (m today/total): 1500 / 50800
Dogs: too many
Day in three words: Wadi and dogs
After a solid night’s sleep I was feeling better but not yet better, if you know what I mean, and well enough to cycle. Out of Kerak we had a long but gradual climb up to an undulating plateau with lots of rocky open fields, ruined buildings, goats and camels. In a lot of the fields they seemed to be growing litter, and looked to have a good crop this year. Littering seems to be the Jordanian national sport and it happens to an absurd degree - some bins have more litter around them than in them. This does lead to some interesting roadside treasure; so far I have picked up some thick rubber strip (for repairs), a canvas pouch (for pannier organisation) and four baby aubergines (for juggling with). On an unrelated note, Jordan also has some excellent biscuit/snack names. Favourites include Mini Giant, Mr One, Selfie, Good Time and Choco Champ.
After 20km the plateau was rudely interrupted by a huge wadi. Jordan has a lot of these dramatic river valleys, which carve their way from the highlands (our route here is mostly between 900m and 1500m) to the rift valley, and this was a whopper. Over about 30km we dropped 600m and climbed back up 800m. Thanks to some nonsense routing the descent was partially via a path that didn’t even exist, requiring us to remove panniers and manhandle our bikes through a small olive grove. This wasn’t even as bad as the climb back up, which was relentless, hot and hard work. I still wasn't even close to recovered from my illness and it was a really tough 90 minutes. We would have considered camping halfway up but we didn’t have enough water and there was nowhere to buy any. Jordan is the opposite of most mountainous places I know, in that here everyone lives up high and the valleys are empty. At the top we stopped at a nice man’s shop and were introduced to a revolving cast of his (5) children. I also tried to learn Arabic numbers again, but I keep forgetting the word for three.
We went through At-Talifah and out the other side to look for a camp spot in what seemed to be an empty area on the map. But it wasn’t empty, it was sheep country, and in this part of the world that means dogs. Quite big, very aggressive and very protective dogs. After a few unsuccessful km we came across a huge herd of sheep next to the road and about 10 dogs guarding them. They saw us as a threat to their sheep buddies and went ballistic every time we tried to pass, getting uncomfortably close at times. The field to the right looked promising so eventually we decided to head off road and camp in there. We found a nice spot between some low stone walls pretty quickly and started unpacking, but after about ten minutes we heard jangly bells and the barky dogs coming towards us. Same sheep, same bloody dogs. They went ballistic again and we had to repack and head back to the road.
After a few more km, and another couple of sheep herds and their angry dogs, we found an area similar to the previous one, but crucially sheep-free. We reasoned that it would be ok as the sheep weren’t on the move any more. This was correct, but after setting the tent up we heard some barking getting closer and closer. We got inside the tent for safety* and shortly afterwards heard three dogs come very close, barking a lot and growling a bit. They were so close you could see the moon shadow of one’s tail on the inside of the tent. In hindsight I think they were wild dogs and were barking out of confusion rather than aggression, but it was quite scary at the time. Soon after they had left Rebecca began to feel very ill, to the extent that she had to wear four layers inside her sleeping bag to feel warm, and had to dash out of the tent a few times to throw up. What a day.
*Sounds daft but no animal is going to attack what is essentially, to them, a giant rock that smells like humans
Distance (km today/total): 71 / 5738
Estimated climb (m today/total): 1500 / 50800
Dogs: too many
Day in three words: Wadi and dogs
After a solid night’s sleep I was feeling better but not yet better, if you know what I mean, and well enough to cycle. Out of Kerak we had a long but gradual climb up to an undulating plateau with lots of rocky open fields, ruined buildings, goats and camels. In a lot of the fields they seemed to be growing litter, and looked to have a good crop this year. Littering seems to be the Jordanian national sport and it happens to an absurd degree - some bins have more litter around them than in them. This does lead to some interesting roadside treasure; so far I have picked up some thick rubber strip (for repairs), a canvas pouch (for pannier organisation) and four baby aubergines (for juggling with). On an unrelated note, Jordan also has some excellent biscuit/snack names. Favourites include Mini Giant, Mr One, Selfie, Good Time and Choco Champ.
After 20km the plateau was rudely interrupted by a huge wadi. Jordan has a lot of these dramatic river valleys, which carve their way from the highlands (our route here is mostly between 900m and 1500m) to the rift valley, and this was a whopper. Over about 30km we dropped 600m and climbed back up 800m. Thanks to some nonsense routing the descent was partially via a path that didn’t even exist, requiring us to remove panniers and manhandle our bikes through a small olive grove. This wasn’t even as bad as the climb back up, which was relentless, hot and hard work. I still wasn't even close to recovered from my illness and it was a really tough 90 minutes. We would have considered camping halfway up but we didn’t have enough water and there was nowhere to buy any. Jordan is the opposite of most mountainous places I know, in that here everyone lives up high and the valleys are empty. At the top we stopped at a nice man’s shop and were introduced to a revolving cast of his (5) children. I also tried to learn Arabic numbers again, but I keep forgetting the word for three.
We went through At-Talifah and out the other side to look for a camp spot in what seemed to be an empty area on the map. But it wasn’t empty, it was sheep country, and in this part of the world that means dogs. Quite big, very aggressive and very protective dogs. After a few unsuccessful km we came across a huge herd of sheep next to the road and about 10 dogs guarding them. They saw us as a threat to their sheep buddies and went ballistic every time we tried to pass, getting uncomfortably close at times. The field to the right looked promising so eventually we decided to head off road and camp in there. We found a nice spot between some low stone walls pretty quickly and started unpacking, but after about ten minutes we heard jangly bells and the barky dogs coming towards us. Same sheep, same bloody dogs. They went ballistic again and we had to repack and head back to the road.
After a few more km, and another couple of sheep herds and their angry dogs, we found an area similar to the previous one, but crucially sheep-free. We reasoned that it would be ok as the sheep weren’t on the move any more. This was correct, but after setting the tent up we heard some barking getting closer and closer. We got inside the tent for safety* and shortly afterwards heard three dogs come very close, barking a lot and growling a bit. They were so close you could see the moon shadow of one’s tail on the inside of the tent. In hindsight I think they were wild dogs and were barking out of confusion rather than aggression, but it was quite scary at the time. Soon after they had left Rebecca began to feel very ill, to the extent that she had to wear four layers inside her sleeping bag to feel warm, and had to dash out of the tent a few times to throw up. What a day.
*Sounds daft but no animal is going to attack what is essentially, to them, a giant rock that smells like humans
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