Travels with Binty Battutah: Ajlun

Travels with Binty Battutah: Ajlun: On Mount Auf in a valley in north western Jordan, close to the birth place of the prophet Elijah, stands a ruined castle. It ...

Ajlun

On Mount Auf in a valley in north western Jordan, close to the birth place of the prophet Elijah, stands a ruined castle. It is set among whispering pines, where a breeze gently blows in the scented air.  I feel at peace in this beautiful place, Ajloun castle. Looking down at the rolling green countryside, I see a lush patchwork of forests, farm land, and olive groves with their carpets of yellow flowers; a slender sandy road twists and winds its way through small, ancient settlements.  From here, on a clear day, you can see all the way to the Dead Sea and Lake Tiberius.

 The fortress which was built between AD 1184 and 1185, on the site of an old Christian monastery, is an excellent example of Arab / Islamic military architecture. The castle was strategically important in that it served as a protection against the Crusaders. The fire beacons in one of its towers were part of a chain of transmitters that could send messages from Damascus to Cairo in twelve hours. The position of the castle also ensured the safety of the Ajloun Iron mines and the three wadis (dry river beds)  that lead into the valley.

Much of the castle was destroyed in earthquakes in 1837 and 1927, so only some forty percent of it still remains. It’s still a fascinating place to visit. Murder holes which were used for pouring boiling oil on enemies and arrow slits are visible on the outer walls.  Inside the castle there are some beautiful vaulted rooms complete with ventilation shafts. The castle had a sophisticated plumbing system with eleven cisterns which allowed for the flow if water throughout the building and evidence of this can be seen in the walls.  According to Ebrahim, one of the castle guides, drinking water was filtered through two different types of sand, blocks of stone and special cooked herbs.

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On the wall below the arch there is a groove that was used for plumbing,

Behind the castle, in the warm spring sunshine, we sat in a grassy field of tiny flowers, and enjoyed a delicious picnic of fresh crunchy salads, wonderful just out of the oven khoubbuz (Arabic bread) and hummus, all washed down with sublime Bedouin tea.

 

Our delicous picnic.

This is Audh Al Hassanat, a Bedouin guide. He is a very experienced and reliable person.  His knowledge of Jordan and it's people and especially Wadi Rum, which is close to his heart, is exceptional. He is always happy and positive. Audh goes to great lengths to put his clients at ease and meet their needs. He speaks excellent English.

Audh also offers adventure and desert tours.
His contact details are desertwolf@gmail.com
Mobile 962 77724b4605

I highly recommend him to make your Jordan holiday memorable.

Battered busses

   

I have a childhood memory of battered African busses speeding crookedly, along rural roads with clouds of dust billowing out behind them. The roof luggage rack packed with bundles, boxes, goats, chickens, bicycles, plants, bits of furniture and zinc baths. Passengers squashed inside, travelling to a variety of destinations.  I took a five hour bumpy bus trip from Fort Kochin in Kerela in Southern India to Munnar in a similar dilapidated, faded rust coloured bus that moved crab-like on bald tyres.  There was no glass in the windows. There were many stops along the way. We had to stop at one village where a tug of war competition was being held in the main road. Between bouts, traffic was allowed to move one direction at a time, through the village.

Munnar is in the tea estates in the mountains and the scenery on the way there was very beautiful. We drove past green forests with very tall trees, streams and waterfalls cascading down huge rocks. The narrow road with many hairpin bends, wound on and up through the mountains.   Wheezing around a sharp corner we met two busses coming down the mountain. Our bus had to reverse to allow the two descending busses to pass. We were on the edge of a huge drop down the mountain. The conductor, a thin surly man in a neatly pressed khaki uniform, stood at the back of the bus and guided the driver by ringing the passenger bell in a series of coded rings!!!!  He had clearly done this before. Quite a hair raising experience to say the least.

  

 This is the same type of bus that took me to Munnar.

 

In Fort KochinI stayed at Saj Home. I highly recommend this home stay. Ali Sadiq the ever cheerful and very helpful proprietor spent seventeen years working in the hotel industry in Dubai.  

His home stay is very well run and the breakfasts that his wife prepares are sublime!!

 Saj Home

 Munnar

 Tea Estate

In Munnar I stayed at Dew Drops Inn, a guest house, twenty kilometers from Munnar in a forest setting. 

Sandalwood Forest, Munnar.

 

 

Why do we travel?

  Desert road,Jordan.

Why do I travel?

What is this burning restlessness in my soul that urges me to keep going to new places, to keep trying to catch the horizon?

Some people never leave their cities or towns in their lifetimes, content with the familiarity of the every day, yet, others are driven by a compulsion to travel and  experience different places and to interact with people living in far off lands.

When I was 12 years old I loved pouring over the atlas and developed a love of reading stories about other people’s travel experiences. The very first book I read ‘Tschiffely’s Ride ‘ by AF Tschiffley had a profound effect on me.  In 1925 Aime Felix Tschiffley ,set off with two Crillo ponies, Mancho and Gato, on an epic ride from Buenos Aries to Washington DC. This 10,000 mile ride took him 3 years.

In June 1325, a 21 year old Berber, Muhammad Ibn Battutah set out from Tangier in Morocco on a Haj pilgrimage to Mecca in Saudi Arabia, a 16 month journey. He finally returned to Tangier nearly 30 years later. He travelled to Egypt, Yemen, Somalia. the East African Coast, Palestine, Syria, Iraq, Anatolia, Persia, Afghanistan, India, Sri Lanka, the Maldives, China, Crimea, Moldova. Romania, Bulgaria,  Mali and Timbuktu. Along the way he married several times and made and lost several fortunes.  A remarkable journey given the times he lived in!

Irishwoman, Dervla Murphy, on her tenth birthday, was presented with an atlas and a bicycle. A few days later she decided, with great confidence to cycle to India.  She kept her ambition to herself, and in 1963, at the age of twenty two set off on a bicycle she named Roz, from Dunkirk to Delhi, India. She took with her : a change of clothing, some toiletries, bicycle spares, a small medical kit, two books and a pistol! (Which she had occasion to use ,twice!)

I live in very different times compared with Ibn Battutah, AF Tschiffely and Dervla Murphy, so why do I travel?

Growing up in small mining towns in Zimbabwe, was pretty boring, so to meet someone who came from another country was exciting. I couldn’t wait to visit these places. Like Dervla Murphy, I had to wait for years and years before this to become a reality!  

I love arriving in a new place, the joy of unexpected discoveries, chance encounters with strangers who offer words of wisdom, make you laugh or drive you nuts. The kindness of locals like the Egyptian shopkeeper who always made sure that I kept my money filed in numerical order so that I wouldn’t get swindled by unscrupulous people. Drinking tea with my Turkish hostess and enjoying a meal with villagers in Nepal. Shy schoolgirls in India,  who greet me in English.

So tell me, why do you travel?

The smaller of these two sisters followed me and chattered away to me in Punjabi!