If traveling long hours on the truck wasn’t bad enough, imagine adding in Mr. Meat watching his Trump brainwashing power rally reels… or he and the Geisha discussing the future of their powerful country at the hands of this orange clown… or the Geisha spouting off about how he only counts UN countries and refuses to consider Palestine a country because they had no right to be there… or listening to Lutz’s iPad cartoons… or Sue yelling out what bird she’s spotted.
On top of all this, we have Persnicety’s grating moaning voice, the Geisha constantly clearing his throat of phlegm, Karen burping, Mr. Meat grumbling about how we’re all stupid and Lutz playing with his tongue.
Amongst other things.
I miss Judy.
The truck is a complete mess… and despite the rule against nesting, the same four at the front remain firmly planted in their seats, refusing to budge. Stormin’ still insists on being the first one off the bus, Mr. Bean is always angry about the wind… and Mickey waits patiently, always attentive to the guides.
Yes… not much has changed.
I doubt it ever will.
I think we’re all on edge now. Time is tick tick ticking away… and we haven’t seen a Lu Lu’s in days… maybe weeks. That supermarket was always our saving grace.
Our sanctuary.
As we were packing up the truck to leave Medina, Mickey made a rude comment to me… that rather caught me off guard. It wasn’t even worth mentioning… but considering I’ve already started... might as well keep going.
She mentioned she’d pulled a hamstring in her leg. Shitty… for sure. Then she added that her housemate thought it was because she was constantly climbing in and out of the back locker. When she said “housemate,” my groggy morning brain automatically interpreted it as “roommate,” so I assumed she was talking about Sue… who was her roommate during our time in Medina.
Turns out… unbeknownst to me… she meant her “housemate” back in London. My mistake. It was early. I was tired and not thinking clearly. But her sharp, condescending tone when correcting me? Completely unnecessary. I just looked at her, said, “I’m so sorry”… and walked away from her.
The rest of the day was… awkward. She knew she’d been rude. She knew I knew she’d been rude. So instead of apologizing, she overcompensated with forced kindness, complimenting random things like my scarf, my hat… my TikToks. It was uncomfortable… and way over the top.
At one point, she even pulled me aside to giggle and whisper, “Warren hasn’t put on deodorant again today.”
What am I supposed to say to that?
Warren never wears deodorant. At this point, we’re all wondering if it’s his body that smells or the clothes he keeps re-wearing. He’s got those lightweight, quick-dry travel clothes… and he washes them in hotel sinks… never at a proper laundry service. Four months of constant use and half-hearted washing? Yes… it’s certainly a mystery whether it’s him or the clothes. Either way, it’s a scent none of us can ever escape.
Eeeek…
I’m tempted to just shove a bar of deodorant into his bag with a wee note before l leave.
“Use me!”
I would… but he has one of those lock up bags… which he diligently locks up with every use. See? Bit of a travel nerd…
The convenient light, air-set wardrobe, the Tilly hat, the extensive guidebooks, the money belt… the security baggage… all add up to travel nerd.
Oh well.
Different strokes for different folks.
After we left Medina, we headed inland to Al-’Ula. Al-’Ula is a fascinating destination in Saudi Arabia that combines breathtaking landscapes, ancient history and rich cultural heritage
Elephant Rock was our first stop in Al-’Ula. It is a stunning natural wonder with a unique appearance. The rock is named for its remarkable resemblance to an elephant… complete with a “trunk” and “body.”
There were a lot of people there, but nothing compared to what it could possibly be in years to come when people discover they want to come to Saudi Arabia. I feel honoured to have experienced it now, while they’re still trying to figure out their tourism trade.
Rosanna and Martin found a government appointed campground for the night… and we were all ecstatic. Why? Because we figured that the words ‘government appointed’ meant there would be toilets and showers.
We were wrong.
It was bush camping… just like we were used to. Well… not really “used to.” Not me, anyway. I am currently counting down the days until I never have to camp again. Though… to be honest… it was a really beautiful spot, surrounded by all these towering mountains and towers of bubble boulders. Truly a spectacular sight. Stunning.
Too bad it was freezing.
The relentless frozen wind made for a sleepless, bitterly cold night. Everyone was shivering and uncomfortable… and it was abundantly clear that we all suffered through it.
Morning came far too early, and the chill hadn’t eased up a single bit. We were all still frozen to the bone. Taking down my tent was a struggle. My fingers were so numb I couldn’t unlatch the tent hooks from the poles.
Every move was a battle.
We had a big day ahead of us. It was the one where we’d had to buy tickets for Al-’Ula back in November. Back then, which seems like an eternity ago.
Our first stop was Dadan, where we all gathered in a large parking lot before boarding an enormous bus that would take us to explore the rock carvings. For all the hype surrounding Al-’Ula, the experience itself was a little underwhelming. There were some perks though… in the form of free pomegranate juice and date biscuits.
Dadan is Saudi Arabia’s “open library”… due to its massive amount of ancient inscriptions. The landscape was more than impressive… with enormous sandstone cliffs, and rock formations shaped by millions of years of wind and erosion.
Although this was so majestic… what really stood out… was the freezing temperature. You wouldn’t think it could get that cold in Saudi Arabia, but believe me… it does. It was Baltic the entire time we were there. My toes and fingers felt like blocks of ice… and no matter what we did, we just couldn’t warm up. It didn’t help that we’d been cold all night before this. Despite the chill, the scenery was dramatic and beautiful.
Of course, I was inundated with, “How can you be cold? Aren’t you from Canada?”
That damn, dreaded, stupid question.
On the way back to the bus, we first stopped to visit a small workshop where we tried our hand at sandstone carving. My attempt wasn’t anything to brag about, but I think I did a hell of a sight better than some. Some of the crew were keen to keep their carved rocks as souvenirs, but I left mine behind. It felt like a bit of a kindergarten project… and I wasn’t about to lug a chunk of stone around for the rest of my trip.
As for Martin and Rosanna, they didn’t join us on the tour. It’s becoming increasingly clear that Martin wants nothing to do with the group, which is a little sad. Sad for all of us that have paid money to be here. Especially me. I’ve helped him a lot during this trip, but for the past three days, he’s completely blanked all of us. Even when we arrived at the old Al-’Ula village, they went off on their own for lunch. He doesn’t make any effort to connect with the group, but on the bright side… I guess it means I’ll save on tipping.
The old village itself was meh…
It felt more like a high-end, open-air luxury strip mall. While the setting and the buildings were undeniably cool, everything was far beyond my budget. None of us could afford anything… especially knowing the actual cost of some of the items we’d seen elsewhere. While we were there, it was eerily quiet and almost completely empty.
I ended up wandering into a restaurant called The 70s Bar. Despite the name, there wasn’t much 70s about it… nor was it particularly bar-like. I only went in because I wanted to check out the roof-top floor, and to do that… I felt obliged to order something. I went with a cake drizzled with honey, which was rather delicious. When I got upstairs, I was expecting a patio with a view, but it turned out to be just a regular second floor. So there I sat, eating my honey cake… mildly disappointed in the entire experience.
The only thing that made me laugh was spotting an Airstream coffee shop… and… of all things… it was a Tim Hortons. That was unexpected.
I couldn’t help but think, “they’re everywhere.”
Speak of the devil…
As I was walking through town, Sue suddenly ran up behind me, telling me she was going to walk with me for a bit. I was so honoured… She said she was sick of Marilyn and needed a break. Of course… the usual. I ignored her and just kept walking, head down… but she leaned in and whispered that she had rushed over to make it look like she had an urgent question to ask me… just so Marilyn wouldn’t follow her.
How to make someone feel appreciated… gawd.
These two are something else. Seriously.
Their constant back-and-forth bickering is exhausting. I want to say it’s a love-hate relationship, but honestly, it’s just annoying for the rest of us.
We are all so sick and tired of listening to Marilyn complain… and then Sue complain about Marilyn. It’s wearing us down because none of us can really tolerate either of them. That’s why I have to get rid of Sue in Amman.
It’s do or die… or no Sue or die.
And now… back to my Amman hotel predicament with Sue.
You’re probably wondering how I’ve handled the whole room-sharing situation coming up in Amman. Ugh… I initially had told Sue she could share a room with me for the remainder of our time in Jordan. It seemed like a fairly good idea to begin with… but let me just say… I’m absolutely regretting that decision with every ounce of my being now. ALL she does is complain. Most of the time, it’s about Persnickety… but the truth is that she has something nasty to say about everyone. I’m actually wrong when I say all she does is complain. When she’s not complaining, she’s making snide remarks about people’s looks or personalities.
Now… I’ll admit, I’m venting right now, too. But the key difference is I’m doing it here… in this blog. I’m not following the group around, broadcasting my complaints about every single passenger… because that would be a full-time job. Trust me… there’s plenty of material.
Sue… on the other hand, does exactly that.
It’s exhausting listening to her. Her dramatic shrugs, exasperated sighs and those endless, exaggerated eye-rolls are enough to drain the energy out of all of us. We’ve all started finding subtle ways to avoid her.
What’s most baffling is that while she spends 98% of her time with Persnickety… that’s also her favourite target. Even getting on the bus to Dadan, she ran ahead of everyone else and yelled for Persnickety to hurry up and join her. It’s as though criticizing Marilyn is her way of diverting attention from herself… but ironically, it just makes her even more of a topic of discussion.
Sue’s sense of humour… or lack thereof… is another focal point of frustration. She doesn’t seem to grasp real wit and clings to stale jokes that have long since run their course. Take the “fiancé” joke, for instance… which she still finds hysterical… and brings up frequently.
Honestly, she’s just… weird.
Anyway…
At first, I thought I’d just send her a text saying I’d changed my mind. But no. I opted out of that decision quickly. That would’ve made the rest of the trip way too awkward.
So, I lied instead.
I texted her saying the hotel had notified me that i had a double room booked.
Problem solved, right?
Not quite.
Mickey asked me why I didn’t just talk to her directly, which made me feel really stupid. Why didn’t I? The answer is easy… I didn’t want to. That’s how much I try to avoid her. Being near both Sue and Persnickety is irritating and draining. I avoid it at all costs. So… feeling quite ridiculous for having sent a text, I deleted it before anyone could see it.
Now I was back to square one.
Great.
Then, in my infinite wisdom… which never, ever ends up being anything close to infinite wisdom, I decided to tell Rebeka the same story about how the hotel had confirmed a double bed… and suggested to her that perhaps she could book a twin room and perhaps allow Sue to stay with her.
My plan would’ve been perfect… IF… Rebeka understood a single word I was saying… and she knew how to book anything.
Now… the whole situation is a complete mess… and I’m no closer to a solution. Rebekah went to Sue and told her I’d arranged for my own ‘double bed’ room and wanted Sue to share with her instead. Of course, Sue got in a big huff and went straight to Persnickety to complain about me.
Now I’m stuck watching Persnickety whisper nasty, cruel comments about me to Sue every time I pass by.
The truth is… I don’t care. I really don’t.
BUT… more on that later.
Hegra was our final stop in Al-’Ula. Rosanna had booked their tickets the day before… and unfortunately, there wasn’t one available for Martin. Considering she’d made us purchase ours back in November, I’m quite surprised she waited until the last minute to get theirs. But in a stroke of luck, she managed to get one just in the nick of time. Honestly… I don’t know why he even bothered to come. He spent the entire time unimpressed and irritated.
We were put on another large bus, packed full of other tourists… when suddenly, this guy leaned forward, tapped my arm, and said, “Hey…you took my picture at Elephant Rock yesterday.”
Yep. He was right. I had.
The guy turned out to be a bit of a wiggly little man from New York… and… hands down, one of the most annoying tourists I’ve ever encountered.
“It’s such a small world!” he exclaimed.
It’s really not.
We’re in Al-’Ula.
What started as an amusing photographic encounter quickly became a test of everyone’s patience. He asked all of us to take photos of him. At first, I thought it was just me because I had taken his picture the day before. But no… it was relentless. Every few minutes, he would hand someone new his camera and ask them to take a photo of him in front of yet another backdrop.
It actually became a game to avoid him. For all of us. The moment I’d spot him heading my way, I’d dart off in the opposite direction.
At one point, Lutz and this guy had a bit of a spat when Lutz was trying to take a photo, and the New Yorker was blocking his view.
Despite the photography drama, Hegra was breathtaking. I had read there were 111 tombs, but one of the guides mentioned there were actually 134. Regardless of the number… I couldn’t help wondering, “where were all the bodies?”
Had they disintegrated over time? Or been consumed by worms? I guess was such a long time ago that the answer hardly mattered. Hegra was inhabited by the Nabataeans around the 1st century BC to the 1st century AD.
Hegra became Saudi Arabia’s first UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2008.
As for Martin, he spent the entire visit wandering off on his own, sulking.
So ya… I’m still stuck with Sue in Amman… I still can’t stand to even look in Persnickety’s direction… Martin is still ignoring all of us… and we still don’t know why Mickey went to Dubai.
Same.
Same.
Same.
… but coming to an end soooooon…
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