The Longest Day Ever!
The big day had finally arrived and, with the civilised departure time of 9:10pm, we had a little more time to get organised than usual. Ross kindly drove us out to the airport and waved us off. As he helped unload the boot, Debbie was spruiking the merits of her fabulous “new” bag (borrowed from son Dan) with its you-beaut wheels and extra stability. We all agreed it was a fine piece of luggage, definitely in the upper echelons of the Hierarchy of Bags. As we made our way towards the check-in counter, we heard a loud thumping sound and turned back to see a look of horror on Debbie’s face as her monolithic wheelie bag had capsized; now lying upturned on the shiny airport floor, like a cockroach with its legs in the air.
Bag righted, we rolled ahead to meet up with our exceptionally punctual and lovely tour group. Having met each other a couple of times already, it was nice to reacquaint ourselves and share our excitement.
Maisy was pulled aside for the explosives test as we were going through customs and the enthusiastic, swab-wielding customs officer (who invited me along as a spectator) made out that, rather than being a royal inconvenience, this was a very special event that Maisy had been hand-selected to participate in. The beaming officer took us behind the scenes so we could watch the swab being carefully inserted into the machine and read the results for ourselves. It was just as well Maisy had decided not to make any bombs today…it would have been a bit awkward.
My girls and I were seated together in a row of 3, with Maisy making a last minute bid for the window seat. I am always happiest on the aisle - easy to escape and go for a stroll and a stretch. One pitfall of the aisle seat though, is the high likelihood your pillow will fall into the thoroughfare. If I had a dollar for every time my pillow strayed out into the aisle, we could have afforded a business class seat.
At one stage, the fully stocked drinks cart appeared to be stopped in its tracks right beside my seat. The flight attendant was pushing it back and forth with great gusto, trying to forge a way through to quench the parched passengers down the back end of the plane. Simultaneously, I was searching for my neck pillow which had mysteriously disappeared. Just as a look of great relief spread across the hostess’ face as she mounted the obstacle and pushed the trolley onwards, I identified my wayward pillow - its puff now somewhat snuffed - as the offending obstruction; now lying flattened in the aisle.
We all managed to get a modicum of sleep, evidenced by Molly’s highly unflattering photos of Maisy and I snoozing soundly, mouths agape, and enjoyed the movies and meals. Maisy’s highlight was being numéro uno on the flight’s Tetris leaderboard, albeit, within the first 10 minutes of boarding.
Our layover in Dubai was a whopping eight hours, so the airline had generously arranged for us to get bussed to the Emirates Hotel just up the road, for some R & R between flights. By the time we went through multiple security checks, wandered the massive Dubai airport and waited for clearance, it was questionable whether it was even worth all the trouble. Some of our tour group opted for a one hour drive-by tour of all of Dubai’s landmarks, which they said was worthwhile but we decided, after 14 hours of flying, a leisurely swim in the very snazzy resort-style pool was just what we needed (it also managed to take the edge off the stifling 37 degree heat).
After what seemed like the longest day of our mortal lives, we all gathered together again and boarded the bus back to the airport. The bright-eyed and bushy-tailed of our group, who had wisely chosen to sleep in their hotel rooms were certainly easy to pick in our line-up. I was struggling to keep my eyes open and I know I wasn’t alone. There was just 3 hours to go now until we finally reached our destination of Amman, Jordan - a frightful 31 hours since closing our home front doors behind us.
Jordan airport was a far cry from the dazzling glamour of its Dubai counterpart but the airconditioning worked brilliantly and that was all that mattered. Miraculously, we all got our luggage back and we boarded yet another bus that would take us, guided by our new travel guide, to our hotel on the Dead Sea. The proud Jordanian guide talked us through all the sights as we were treated with a spectacular sunset, bathing the mountains in golden light before sinking like a giant orange into the Dead Sea. The bus deposited us safely at our beautiful accommodation, where we were offered what we thought was sour prune juice but turned out to actually be HIBISCUS juice, ready to be allocated our rooms. The hotel representative found it hard to tackle our English sounding surnames, with his heavy accent. After attempting to call out a couple and being met by a room full of blank gazes, Denise took over and vastly expediated the process. We found that the girls, who were rooming together, had been placed in a room a long distance away from Deb and I, even though we had requested rooms close together. No worries, it was a simple mistake he said, and issued us with 2 new sets of room keys, our rooms now side-by-side. It seemed to be a bit of an upgrade, with gorgeous uninterrupted views of the Dead Sea and spacious twin beds. We checked the girls’ room out first and it was fantastic. Debbie and I stepped back into the hall and activated our electrionic key to open the door. The green light flashed and the door opened seamlessly. I loudly pointed out how fantastically cool the aircon had made the room and then a quick glance towards the hallway revealed a pair of old thongs. Hmmm, odd that they had left these in the room. We took a couple more steps down the hall to find that the thongs weren’t the only things left in the room… the room’s occupants were still there too! Thankfully our vision of the room was still partially obscured because Deb and I were startled to see 2 pairs of tootsies stretched out on the bed at the end of the hall, possibly in quite a compromising position. We’ll never fully know because after we both yelled: “oh my goodness, there’s someone in our room”, followed immediately by a loud squeal from the couple on the bed, (which was their own version of “oh my goodness, there’s someone in OUR room!”) we backed out of there Lightning MacQueen stlye, our wheels spinning as we kicked up clouds of dust.
We rushed back to the hotel representative to explain the embarrassing predicament we’d found ourselves in and although he was flustered, he didn’t seem quite as apologetic as we thought the situation warranted. We were issued with 2 new adjacent rooms, in another section of the hotel, sans view of the Dead Sea and slightly less palatial. We’ll now be trying to consciously avoid that couple we intruded on - though we only have their thongs and toes to go on!
After a big buffet dinner in our bellies and passing the gyrating belly dancer entertaining the crowds by the pool, we all headed off to bed, very keen for some quality slumber.
