Camels, Donkeys and Horse-Drawn Carriages...

I spent a lot of my time today crouching, trying to take pictures that captured the vastness of the spaces and facades in Petra.  

We took every mode of transportation possible getting around Petra. As we started back to Amman at the end of the day, Pam apologized, saying "I thought I caught a whiff of camel as we got into the car and then realized I'm pretty sure its actually me." 

I call that a sophisticated nose, as I had no idea whether the smell emanating from me was eau de donkey, camel or horse - I just knew it was not entirely pleasant.

We also did quite a bit of walking. 

And posing. Note - Petra has Diet Caffeine Free Coke up by the Monastery, unavailable elsewhere in Jordan - I am posing with it in an attempt to get a merchandising deal with Coke. I'm expecting my call any day now.

In the end, I was filthy - although quite content to have spent the day in some pretty amazing company.

Spring has sprung...

I drove with a friend up to Umm Qays, on the northern border.  One of the "decapolis" cities in Roman times, when it was called "Gadara", there are only a couple of columns and an ancient road left.  

But, it sits on top a hill that overlooks Syria, the Golan Heights, Israel (including a great view of the Sea of Galilee), and, on a clear day, Lebanon.  And the whole site is covered in yellow wildflowers at the moment, making it a delightful spot for an afternoon lunch on the terrace. 

A little sheesha fun...

It's been way too much fun having friends around...

Dead Sea sunset again...

Please leave your requests for a pose you'd like me to attempt in the total weightlessness of the Dead Sea in the comments. I promise to attempt them all. I am going to need suggestions, especially since I'll be back in one short week. And at least three more times this summer.

In the meantime, behold my sunset sultriness which turned out more salty than sultry...that is salt, people. Not leprosy.

All work and no play...

I touristed today with a friend. We stopped at the River Jordan and then drove up to the Dead Sea panorama. Everywhere I turned, there were adorable children, playing. I was *this* close to joining them...

I'm pretty sure this was not the intended use of this small baptismal font:

But I'm absolutely certain this is what this staircase was intended for - and next time I come, I'm totally trying it out:

Dead Sea at Sunset...

I sometimes feel I'm living in a dream...

The Citadel...

I drove with a friend to the Citadel in downtown Amman.  After getting lost and taking an inadvertent detour through the gold souk (which I have been trying to find for a few months) and past the Roman Amphitheater (hello - where were you all those weeks I tried, in vain, to find you?) we spotted it at the top of the hill.

The complex was much larger than I thought it would be.  There were ruins stretching from the Bronze Age, through the Roman occupation, into the Byzantine Era and finishing with the Umayyad period.  We had a fun time clambering about but the frigid temperatures (38 degrees) and the wind combined to hurry us through the sight.  I'm looking forward to going back when it warms back up and exploring a little bit more.

The burning of a spark transformer...

The heat and hot water has been regularly quitting on me this winter.  The first few times it happened, I found out the hard way, after stepping into a spray of ice cold water.  I learned to check my heated towel rack (yes - so spoiled, I know) before attempting to take a shower.  If the heated towel rack was cold, a shower was inadvisable until the heat and hot water had been restored to full functionality.

When I returned from Prague, the heat and hot water were not functioning.  It was fixed the next day.  Three days later, it was out again and later that afternoon, I was cc'ed on the following email sent by the repairman:

Dear Hosing

Kindly contact the L.L. of the residence to replace the rusty and leaky boiler pipes, as it is leaking over the burner which almost caused the burning of the spark transformer.

Thank you

Of course, this email immediately led me to a spiral of panic:

What is a spark transformer?  And could the burning of said spark transformer lead to a fire?  How long would it take for the fire to spread so that it was noticable to an outside observer?  Would there be time to stop it before it spread to my house?  What if it happened at night?  How would I escape my house if it caught on fire when all my windows have steel bars on them and my door is really far away?  What if the spark transformer fire reached the heating oil drums and they exploded?  What if they exploded while I was home?

Technicians came and supposedly they came and replaced the rusty and leaky boiler pipes.  However, the heat and hot water have gone out twice since then, leading me to suspect they just painted over the rust and duct taped the holes or something similarly sinister, leaving me vulnerable to the dangers of the spark transformer...

Don't judge...

But I just ate a handful of Skittles for dinner (thanks, Katie!) and chased them down with a swig directly out of a half-liter bottle of Diet Coke. 

My patron saint...

After Rachel abandoned me to my own devices in Prague, I visited the Loreta Monastery and discovered my patron saint!

Wilgefortis was a teen-aged noblewoman whose father engaged her to marry a Pagan king. To avoid the marriage, Wilgefortis took a vow of virginity and prayed she would be made repulsive. In answer to her prayers, she grew a beard. 

I would say that Wilgefortis got off fairly easy compared to some other female martyrs (Apollonia had her teeth pulled, Agatha lost her breasts before being forced to roll naked on a bed of coals, Catherine was rolled down a hill, tied to a spiked wheel, Lucia plucked out her eyes and gave them to the pagan suitor who said he couldn't resist their beauty, Ursula was beheaded along with 11,000 other virgins she was leading on a crusade, etc. etc. etc.) but Wilgefortis' father was so enraged he had her crucified.

She was venerated by women seeking to be liberated from abusive husbands. I've always said it - there are worse things than being single...I could be single with an unwanted suitor. Or unwanted facial hair. Or a ridiculously ugly dress...

It isn't litter if its organic...

Rachel and I met up for a weekend in Prague.  We spent most of the weekend eating delicious, salt-encrusted pistachios.  And spitting the shells out on the ground.  We confessed to and documented our crime at the Lenin Wall.

Also - I became totally unrepentant at spitting out shells after finding this in an area of the city we most definitely did not visit:

13th Century Sexism...

Look closely.  The tower on the right is ever-so-slightly taller and wider.  A powerful male "protecting" a frailer female.  Ah - those sexist Gothic architects...