25th February
Our day started at an obnoxiously early 2.45 a.m., and by 5.30 a.m. we were seated on our Royal Jordanian flight from Mumbai to Amman. We took advantage of the opportunity to catch up on a few films, arriving in Amman after a smooth six-hour flight at around 8.30 a.m. local time. We planned to head straight from Amman to Aqaba, the southernmost tip of Jordan, and then work our way slowly back up towards Amman over the following week. We took a taxi to the bus stop, already cringing at Jordanian prices (at least in comparison with India), and had an hour or so to kill while waiting for the bus. The weather in Amman was overcast and surprisingly chilly (particularly after balmy Mumbai), so we hoped that the Red Sea coast would be rather warmer. The four-hour drive took us south along an excellent road through the desert (called the Desert Highway, surprisingly enough), with the scenery enlivened over the last hour or so by magnificent sandstone mountains glowing in the late afternoon sun.
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26th February
We woke up to glorious sunshine, rented some snorkel equipment from the hotel, and headed down to the beach. There were only a few people around, and we headed over to a hut on the beach just to check that we were in the right place. The man standing there confirmed that we were nearby the section of coral reef known as the Japanese Gardens. We wandered down to the water and were slowly getting comfortable with the temperature of the water, chilly but tolerable, and our equipment. As we were about to head over to the reef we saw that the guy from the shack was entering the water, showing off an excellent belly. He came over to us and said, in basic English, that there was nothing to worry about and to follow him to see some fish.
We swam over to the reef, only ten metres away. The water was beautifully translucent, and the coral was only a metre or two below us. Small fish swam all around, some spectacularly colourful. Khaled, for that was his name, picked up a sea urchin, all black and prickly, and moved it around with his hand underneath. Keep away from the sharp bits, he told us; they hurt. He left the sea urchin in peace, and swam on. We followed him further into the reef, where Khaled pulled out some kind of fish food and ground it in his hands. He gave some to me and the little fish swarmed around, nibbling at the little bits floating in the water.
We swam further on, past the rope that is supposed to mark the edge of the snorkelling area. The coral fell away and we emerged onto a deeper part, with the sandy floor maybe five metres down. Khaled spotted something on the sea floor, motioned for us to wait, and then dove down. There was something grey and round on the floor; he grabbed it with both hands and carried it back up to us. It was a puffer fish, an extremely amusing little animal. Well, not that little actually. It remained surprisingly still and tolerant in his hands. He gave it to me, and I rather nervously wrapped my hands around it. It was about the size of a size 4 football, with a rough and surprisingly dry skin. I let it go and it swam slowly away with a peeved air. Most species of puffer fish have poisonous spikes when they inflate, and one is apparently the second most poisonous vertebrate in the world, after the golden dart frog. I assume that Khaled knew that this wasn't a poisonous one!
On another part of the coral Khaled pointed out a bizarre creature whose fleshy, pink, zig-zag mouth was just about visible sticking out from a hole in the reef. He told us this was dangerous, and waved for us to stay at a distance. He then gave the creature a little tap on the outside of its lip, at which the creature closed its mouth as it pulled back into the reef. Khaled didn't know the name of the creature, but said that it ate octopi and could even do some serious damage to your arm.
We then swam further out to sea, towards one large outcrop of coral. Khaled was looking for something, and when he found it told us to move back a little. He pointed to an area of the coral, about a metre below us, then swam down and touched what looked like a stone. The stone opened its eyes and mouth, and we could see that Khaled was tickling a stone fish - which we did know to be very poisonous - under its chin. The stone fish stayed where it was. He tickled it again under the chin, and it opened its eyes and mouth again in irritation. Khaled came up to the surface and explained that only its back is dangerous, covered in spines laced with potentially fatal venom. He didn't suggest that we try to touch it!
We started to make our way back towards the shore. On the way Khaled spotted an octopus hiding in the coral. He gave it a stroke, and motioned for me to do the same. After watching Khaled do this a couple of times without any adverse effects I decided to indulge, and gave the slimy little octopus a little tickle. Just before we reached the shore Khaled found a starfish with long tendrils resting in the sand. Not one to leave a fish in peace, he picked up the starfish and handed it to me. I put it back on the sand.
We emerged from the water after a fascinating hour or so amidst the beautiful coral. We'd had a completely different experience than if we'd just swum around by ourselves; I doubt we'd have spotted any of the interesting creatures that Khaled showed us. What was even better was that Khaled had no intention of asking for anything; this was quite the change from India, a wonderful place in many ways but one where most people seemed to be focused on how many rupees they could extract from you. On the contrary, he invited us for a cup of tea by the hut. We sat there for an hour or so with Khaled and his cousin Ismael, enjoying the warm sunshine, sipping at sweet tea, and smoking from their water pipe. We were doubly glad that Khaled had helped us when they told us about a couple of English guys who had been there a few days ago, who had refused their offer of advice and were then stung by a sea urchin.
We went back for lunch at the International Arab Divers Village, and then had just enough time to start digesting (while Clem found herself a wet-suit) before heading back down to the beach, catching a lift with the guy from the Village. While we had been away one of Khaled's friends had arrived from Amman, so we went for our afternoon snorkel with Ismael instead. We walked down to the beach and put on our flippers, then swam off south towards the border with Saudi Arabia. The Red Sea was still cold, and I envied Clem her lovely wet-suit. We passed above a moray eel, which slipped through Ismael's fingers when he tried to grab it. We swam through a lovely section of coral, with colourful fish flitting all around. Near the coral Ismael spotted a round, grey fish on the sandy seafloor and dove down towards it. He very delicately handled it from below, and the fish puffed up to twice its size. He told us that the skin of the bubble fish (as he called it, apparently it is related to the puffer fish) has tiny poisonous spikes, but if you knew where they were you could touch it gently. He didn't suggest that we tried.
After almost an hour in the water, slowing swimming a kilometre or so, we arrived at the target: a submerged Russian tank dumped there on the orders of King Abdullah in 1999. We dove down around 5 metres, blowing the pressured air out of our ears, to touch the tank and then swam back to the top. After making our way back to the shore we lay on the sand warming ourselves in the sun, before running (for a minute or two, then strolling) back along the beach to Khaled's hut. We sat there for another hour or so sipping at sweet tea. Khaled and Ismael still hadn't asked for any money, but this strategy (if it was deliberate) worked well. We were so pleased with what they had shown us, and especially the spirit in which they had done so, that we gave them more than we would have done had they demanded some exorbitant amount.
Our day started at an obnoxiously early 2.45 a.m., and by 5.30 a.m. we were seated on our Royal Jordanian flight from Mumbai to Amman. We took advantage of the opportunity to catch up on a few films, arriving in Amman after a smooth six-hour flight at around 8.30 a.m. local time. We planned to head straight from Amman to Aqaba, the southernmost tip of Jordan, and then work our way slowly back up towards Amman over the following week. We took a taxi to the bus stop, already cringing at Jordanian prices (at least in comparison with India), and had an hour or so to kill while waiting for the bus. The weather in Amman was overcast and surprisingly chilly (particularly after balmy Mumbai), so we hoped that the Red Sea coast would be rather warmer. The four-hour drive took us south along an excellent road through the desert (called the Desert Highway, surprisingly enough), with the scenery enlivened over the last hour or so by magnificent sandstone mountains glowing in the late afternoon sun.
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| This is said to be the least spectacular of Jordan's three highways |
We arrived in Aqaba at around 5 p.m., and immediately caught a taxi 10 kilometres down the east coast of the Red Sea to our South Beach hotel, the International Arab Divers Village. This area was much more peaceful than Aqaba and we were glad to have chosen to stay there (especially once we heard that a Thomson cruise ship had just arrived in Aqaba). We were shown over to our room, clean and comfortable, and settled in for a relaxing evening with a beautiful view of the sun setting over Egypt across the northern tip of the Red Sea.
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| Sunset over the Gulf of Aqaba |
26th February
We woke up to glorious sunshine, rented some snorkel equipment from the hotel, and headed down to the beach. There were only a few people around, and we headed over to a hut on the beach just to check that we were in the right place. The man standing there confirmed that we were nearby the section of coral reef known as the Japanese Gardens. We wandered down to the water and were slowly getting comfortable with the temperature of the water, chilly but tolerable, and our equipment. As we were about to head over to the reef we saw that the guy from the shack was entering the water, showing off an excellent belly. He came over to us and said, in basic English, that there was nothing to worry about and to follow him to see some fish.
We swam over to the reef, only ten metres away. The water was beautifully translucent, and the coral was only a metre or two below us. Small fish swam all around, some spectacularly colourful. Khaled, for that was his name, picked up a sea urchin, all black and prickly, and moved it around with his hand underneath. Keep away from the sharp bits, he told us; they hurt. He left the sea urchin in peace, and swam on. We followed him further into the reef, where Khaled pulled out some kind of fish food and ground it in his hands. He gave some to me and the little fish swarmed around, nibbling at the little bits floating in the water.
We swam further on, past the rope that is supposed to mark the edge of the snorkelling area. The coral fell away and we emerged onto a deeper part, with the sandy floor maybe five metres down. Khaled spotted something on the sea floor, motioned for us to wait, and then dove down. There was something grey and round on the floor; he grabbed it with both hands and carried it back up to us. It was a puffer fish, an extremely amusing little animal. Well, not that little actually. It remained surprisingly still and tolerant in his hands. He gave it to me, and I rather nervously wrapped my hands around it. It was about the size of a size 4 football, with a rough and surprisingly dry skin. I let it go and it swam slowly away with a peeved air. Most species of puffer fish have poisonous spikes when they inflate, and one is apparently the second most poisonous vertebrate in the world, after the golden dart frog. I assume that Khaled knew that this wasn't a poisonous one!
On another part of the coral Khaled pointed out a bizarre creature whose fleshy, pink, zig-zag mouth was just about visible sticking out from a hole in the reef. He told us this was dangerous, and waved for us to stay at a distance. He then gave the creature a little tap on the outside of its lip, at which the creature closed its mouth as it pulled back into the reef. Khaled didn't know the name of the creature, but said that it ate octopi and could even do some serious damage to your arm.
We then swam further out to sea, towards one large outcrop of coral. Khaled was looking for something, and when he found it told us to move back a little. He pointed to an area of the coral, about a metre below us, then swam down and touched what looked like a stone. The stone opened its eyes and mouth, and we could see that Khaled was tickling a stone fish - which we did know to be very poisonous - under its chin. The stone fish stayed where it was. He tickled it again under the chin, and it opened its eyes and mouth again in irritation. Khaled came up to the surface and explained that only its back is dangerous, covered in spines laced with potentially fatal venom. He didn't suggest that we try to touch it!
We started to make our way back towards the shore. On the way Khaled spotted an octopus hiding in the coral. He gave it a stroke, and motioned for me to do the same. After watching Khaled do this a couple of times without any adverse effects I decided to indulge, and gave the slimy little octopus a little tickle. Just before we reached the shore Khaled found a starfish with long tendrils resting in the sand. Not one to leave a fish in peace, he picked up the starfish and handed it to me. I put it back on the sand.
We emerged from the water after a fascinating hour or so amidst the beautiful coral. We'd had a completely different experience than if we'd just swum around by ourselves; I doubt we'd have spotted any of the interesting creatures that Khaled showed us. What was even better was that Khaled had no intention of asking for anything; this was quite the change from India, a wonderful place in many ways but one where most people seemed to be focused on how many rupees they could extract from you. On the contrary, he invited us for a cup of tea by the hut. We sat there for an hour or so with Khaled and his cousin Ismael, enjoying the warm sunshine, sipping at sweet tea, and smoking from their water pipe. We were doubly glad that Khaled had helped us when they told us about a couple of English guys who had been there a few days ago, who had refused their offer of advice and were then stung by a sea urchin.
We went back for lunch at the International Arab Divers Village, and then had just enough time to start digesting (while Clem found herself a wet-suit) before heading back down to the beach, catching a lift with the guy from the Village. While we had been away one of Khaled's friends had arrived from Amman, so we went for our afternoon snorkel with Ismael instead. We walked down to the beach and put on our flippers, then swam off south towards the border with Saudi Arabia. The Red Sea was still cold, and I envied Clem her lovely wet-suit. We passed above a moray eel, which slipped through Ismael's fingers when he tried to grab it. We swam through a lovely section of coral, with colourful fish flitting all around. Near the coral Ismael spotted a round, grey fish on the sandy seafloor and dove down towards it. He very delicately handled it from below, and the fish puffed up to twice its size. He told us that the skin of the bubble fish (as he called it, apparently it is related to the puffer fish) has tiny poisonous spikes, but if you knew where they were you could touch it gently. He didn't suggest that we tried.
After almost an hour in the water, slowing swimming a kilometre or so, we arrived at the target: a submerged Russian tank dumped there on the orders of King Abdullah in 1999. We dove down around 5 metres, blowing the pressured air out of our ears, to touch the tank and then swam back to the top. After making our way back to the shore we lay on the sand warming ourselves in the sun, before running (for a minute or two, then strolling) back along the beach to Khaled's hut. We sat there for another hour or so sipping at sweet tea. Khaled and Ismael still hadn't asked for any money, but this strategy (if it was deliberate) worked well. We were so pleased with what they had shown us, and especially the spirit in which they had done so, that we gave them more than we would have done had they demanded some exorbitant amount.
They insisted that we join them for dinner, which Khaled whipped up from some "little fish" that a friend of his had caught that morning. Very tasty. We were joined by a group of five Spaniards, most of whom hailed from the Basque country, who had just arrived in Aqaba and had been summoned over by Ismael. Munching on the freshly caught and fried fish, we enjoyed a very pleasant evening down by the beach watching the sun set over the Gulf of Aqaba.
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| Passing around the water pipe |
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| Showing off my artistic skills for Khaled's guestbook |
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| Sunset on the Red Sea, with the Japanese Gardens below |
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