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Jordan – Wadi Rum

If you have a romantic heart and an adventurous spirit, then you have to ride an Arabian horse through the Wadi Rum desert at least once in your life.

Wadi Rum, in the extreme south of Jordan, is also known as Valley of the Moon. It is an enchanting place where huge rock outcrops rise majestically from the desert floor. The rocks have the appearance of melted chocolate and the colors of the sandstone are like a muted earthy rainbow. It is a landscape like no other.

I have ridden Wadi Rum twice with Equus Trails. Both trips were spectacular and different. I put old friends in and made new ones. That’s the beauty of horses: they bring together people who enjoy a challenge whatever their age.

At first I was eager for my driving ability and for crossing the type of terrain described. I remember that on the first trip, the briefing was held in a fabulous Bedouin-style restaurant in the capital, Amman. I thought I was the most inexperienced rider in the whole group and asked Ismael, owner of the local tour company, to make sure that I had a very calm horse.

The next day we left Amman and set off in a minibus on the Desert Highway, which is the main highway that runs through Jordan, from Syria to Saudi Arabia. The trip was full of new visions for our western eyes. We passed convoys of colorful trucks transporting goods to Saudi Arabia and by the side of the road in the overgrown desert were small settlements of very basic single-story concrete dwellings. We saw children running among goats, donkeys and camels. We pass a local farmer with a camel sitting quietly in the back of his 4WD truck. Our driver waved to him and pulled over to the side of the road for us to take photos of his strange, carefree passenger. We stopped at a roadside tourist shop to buy typical Arabic scarves known as kufeyyas, which would prove indispensable against the strong sun, and then picked up some dates and huge blocks of ice from a local supermarket.

We reached the edge of Wadi Rum and the horses were waiting for us. I looked at them nervously wondering what mine would be and hoping it would be very quiet. The tack was a curious affair of cloth-covered blankets and pads your grandmother once had on her couch, plus the chair and a very basic bridle. We were told to sit with our legs far forward and the reins held high in one hand. The horses responded to very light body movement and neck control. They trotted with the typical gait of their race, which took some getting used to. My mare was very calm and did not trot, but she liked to roll in the soft sand without warning. When we get used to our horses and riding style, we pick up our pace. Just a flick of the kidneys and we galloped rapidly across the desert floor, in and out of the desert broom bushes. It was exhilarating. My fears of riding soon disappeared, and by the end of the week, I had gone from being my quiet mare to one of the liveliest horses on the trip.

Every day was different as we rode through the desert through deep red rock canyons and ascended the airy heights of huge rolling dunes. We stopped at the very edge and marveled at the scenery below. We saw the Seven Pillars of Wisdom made famous by TE Lawrence; we found secret water springs that only the Bedouins used; we passed camel caravans and goat herders; We saw cave paintings dating back thousands of years. We only very occasionally saw tourists, but most of the time we were alone. The horses were game and lively and gave the whole trip a feeling of joy. When we reached a stretch of flat desert, we all galloped together in a long line, one arm raised like Arab warriors attacking.

Once, we spotted a Bedouin tent with Toyota and camels in the distance. One of the crew members called the sheikh on his cell phone and they invited us to have a coffee in his tent. We asked if we could meet the women of the tribe and only the horsemen were allowed to enter their separate part of the tent. We communicated with women using sign language and drawing pictures and realized that we had the same wants and needs regardless of the culture we came from. I felt that we had witnessed something very special that the normal tourist does not usually see.

At the end of each long day in the saddle, when we were tired and hungry, the cook and the crew had already set up camp. I was always amazed by the places they found to spend the night. The crew consisted of a very good cook and assistant, horse handlers, perhaps a local vet, and drivers. Normally there were about two or three 4WD vans, carrying food and water for the horses, for the riders and also all our bags and camping gear. They discreetly stayed out of the way when we were riding unless it was necessary for water etc and kept going to find rest spots and overnight campsites. Sometimes a rider decided that a break was needed and therefore traded in his horse for a seat in one of the trucks.

Camping was the most wonderful fun and I was amazed at how everyone forgot about their complex lives at home and wanted to stay in the desert forever with few or few possessions. They fed us plenty of freshly prepared food that was delicious and provided us with wine, beer and soft drinks. We all sat around the fire exchanging stories and learning about the Bedouin way of life. We hear the men sing love songs to the horses to keep them calm. One night we were visited by members of a local tribe and we had a very pleasant and spontaneous evening. We found that the Bedouin are a very proud and hospitable race with a great sense of humor.

On each trip, the crew gave us an impromptu shower so everyone could wash up well. I remember how wonderful it was to feel clean and refreshed. I sat on a high rock ledge on the horses with a can of cold beer to watch the sun set and the colors of the desert change.

Although tents were provided, most of us liked to put our sleeping bags on the rocks or just in the beautiful soft sand. I stood on my high rocky ledge and stood there watching the bright stars shooting across the sky and felt completely in harmony with the mysterious nature of Wadi Rum.

At the end of the second trip I sadly said goodbye to my horse and crew on the edge of the desert. We were taken by minibus to our luxurious five-star hotel in Petra, near the famous Nabatean city. I walked into the reception area with its marble floors and Persian rugs, feeling hot, sweaty, and covered in red dust. The staff were unfazed. That night I rolled over and fell off my king size bed because I had gotten so used to sleeping on the floor.

The next morning they had arranged a guided tour of Petra for us. I spent the whole day there and then realized I was late for an appointment at the famous Brooke Animal Hospital, near the entrance. There was no time to walk so I hired a camel and jogged through the old city with the owner running behind me. When the camel arrived at the Hacienda I had to leave it but then they gave me a horse to ride at full speed to the hospital. I was in time to take a tour with the chief vet and make a donation to the charity. Indiana Jones eat your heart!

The next day some of us rented a car and a driver and were taken to the famous port of Aqaba on the Red Sea. It has one of the best coral reefs in the world and we spent our last day, before the flight home, snorkeling and relaxing on the beach. It was a fitting end to a great vacation.

My horseback ride to Jordan was over, but I will never forget it. And hopefully, there will always be another adventure waiting for me in the desert.

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