So if anyone should have had an issue about Hazel’s single supplement not working out, it should have been me. She snores worse than Aunty Priscilla. I think I woke up three times in all. We aimed to be downstairs for breakfast at 7am, for an 8am departure. That didn't quite work for me. I was so tired when I woke up, I think I was staring daggers at Hazel but the room was dark so I'm hoping she didn't see me. Hazel showered whilst I packed and then whilst I showered she went down for breakfast. I headed down about 7.30, taking all my stuff with me. Breakfast choices were falafel or cornflakes… Interesting. And American coffee. Turns out it wasn't American, it was Arabic. It didn't taste bad at all, it just wasn't what I was expecting. 

Everyone congregated in the lobby and I met Peter (29, Irish- nice to have someone near my age now). We got in the minibus on headed to Wadi Rum. Ahmed gave us a brief history of Jordan and Amman en route and we stopped a couple of times for photo ops, toilet breaks etc. Peter shower me two magic tricks. Man, I do love a magic trick. 4 hours later we arrived at Wadi Rum. We were greeted by Sheikh Zayid who's family have been the heads of Wadi Rum for many generations. I don't really know if I'm saying that right, but his family are in charge and he's top dog. Zayid took great pride telling us that his grandfather was close friends with Lawrence of Arabia…until he betrayed them. Peter and I both admitted that we thought Lawrence of Arabia was fictional. Also, (Dad you'll be proud) when we discussed the film I was the one to remember who the actor was. Strange how your annoying film choices helped me out there!

The mountains and sand stretch as far as the eye can see, sand dunes rise a 100feet high, and red and beige sand meet in straight lines where the rain has washed the beige sand off the mountains and the red sand has been swept up by wind. And it's quiet, so quiet that all you can hear is your own breath. Which truthfully is more like panting when you’re climbing up the mounds. The scenery is so idyllic it looks fake. Ahmed let us take turns sitting in the front of the truck but we said that whoever sat in the front had to take lead on guiding the tour. John told us if we looked to our left we could see ‘mountains and sand’ and if we looked to our right we could also see ‘mountains and sand’, thing is, we all looked left and right as he said it. Peter followed, he was a little more creative, apparently at the moment Warner Bros are building a new park behind the fake mountains which have actually been drafted in from the south of France. I stayed in the back, I had nothing interesting or witty to throw into the pile.

We picked up lunch in the local ‘supermarket’ (this was actually a large shed with shelves crammed with a variety of mismatched items. Black suede shoes were next to rat poison, which were next to tins of tuna, resting on top of spam) and drove to a small Bedouin tent where we ate and drank sage tea. Zayid drove us around Wadi Rum for the afternoon, we climbed sand dunes, walked through a small canyon, climbed mounds and scrambled up to stand on a high bridge made naturally of rocks. Again, health and safety can do one here. We got to camp around 4.30pm and got our tents. Turns out Hazel did sort out a single supplement so I get a tent to myself too- without paying extra. bargain. I’m not being funny but they're not tents. They have electric plug sockets and lights, metal bed frames with mattresses and blankets, lockable windows and doors and carpets. The view from my bed is stunning. I've had a right result. Hazel, John, Peter and I went climbing again and saw the best views of the day. Ahmed and Zayid said that our camp has the best view for the sunset so at 5.30pm we all sat and watched the sunset until 6.10pm. Wadi Rum is an incredible place. Dinner was served in the large heated lobby tent; lentil soup, vegetable soup, rice, cucumber and tomatoes and chicken and potato which had been cooked underground in a metal barrel, followed by black tea. Obviously. Peter and I then went and lay outside looking at all of the stars. There were so many and so clear. Peter’s knowledge of bad jokes is very impressive. We lay there for an hour and I don't think he ran out of them. I saw six shooting stars. Peter saw three. (“Stick that up your arse”- it got competitive). 

I can understand why people come here for a week’s holiday. It really is away from it all.