Oh, Happy Day

Saturday, 21st March

Our bags were packed and loaded into the car. Preparation for the journey had been made as well as we could. Enough food and drink for a family of four should get us through the two day journey. If we could get there. I’d even written out some key phrases in Spanish to explain where​ we were going and why in case we were stopped by the police. It still seemed like a good idea to allow an extra 4 hours for delays.

Leaving Jávea was so very different from previous years​, no fond farewells or see-you-next-time except by phone, the uncertainty palpable. So it was fitting that the day dawned dark and damp. Cloud obscured the mountains and misted the mostly deserted roads.

On the motorway the lorries were on the move, unsung heroes transporting the vital supplies to keep the country going. Signs over the road warned of checks on unnecessary journeys and we fretted about the rule only allowing one person in a car. The police presence was most evident at service stations where we stopped for comfort breaks (another worry allayed: would the toilet facilities be open?) They left us alone, though and gradually we gained in confidence. It must be obvious that a foreign vehicle, loaded to the gunnels and heading north must be leaving the country we reasoned.

The weather even reflected our growing optimism. Soon we were wearing sunglasses and opening windows. Hawks flew over the empty roads and seemingly deserted towns around Zaragoza By the time we reached the coast between Bilbao and Santander we found ourselves wanting to explore the many holiday resorts signposted as if these were normal times.

That they weren’t was reinforced when we reached the port. Staff and the many Guardia Civil were all wearing masks and gloves. At check-in we were instructed to read a notice informing us that we must remain in our cars until boarding and go immediately to the cabin where we must remain until instructed to return to our car on arrival.

Neil had received an email en route to inform us that the ferry would be an hour late departing and we now had five hours to wait before boarding. Visits to the toilet block were permitted but woe betide those tempted to linger to enjoy the sea view or exchange pleasantries. The Guardia were having none of it. Thankfully, they were more tolerant of stretching legs by the car or taking items out of the boot as long as we kept a distance of at least a meter from anyone else.

Boarding took much longer than usual to ensure no overcrowding on the garage decks or stairways and to allow for only two people in the lift at a time. It seemed to work better than usual, to be honest.

Thus we’ve made it onto the ferry and are underway. We’ve even been provided with complimentary cold snacks delivered to the cabin at meal times. So we now have enough food to feed a family of six.

Panic!

 

Friday 20th March 

 

The first thing I do on waking is check the ferry company’s news site. It has become routine to check several times a day. So far the less than comforting message that all services between Spain and the UK had been cancelled from the 22nd of March. With a crossing booked for the 21st it at least gave us hope.

This morning however the only message that appeared was:

“Currently all passenger services between the UK and Ireland to France and Spain have been cancelled until 13 April 2020”

Now, how would you react? Me? I stormed into the lounge and tried not to scream at Neil “They’ve cancelled our ferry!” I like to think it came out in a calm and collected voice.

Neil immediately emailed them, phone lines not being open until 9:30. As there’s no response by then, he gives them a call. “Due to the high volume of calls we are currently experiencing this enquiry service has been suspended until further notice”

So what now? Flights are still leaving at present and friends have already decided to take that option leaving their car and most of the other belongings they brought with them ​in Spain. As we only have the one car and I tend to pack all our worldly goods into it, that was a none starter for us. That leaves the channel tunnel. Eurostar are still running but France is in lockdown, too. So how is that going to work? Thanks to the brilliant social media community on Jávea Connect I discover it is possible by downloading, filling in and printing a form, one for each of us and for each day to be shown to the police. They even posted the exact phrase, in French, we would need to write on the form. With breaking up the trip difficult to say the least; it would not be a journey most sensible people would choose to do in peace time but it is an option.

Meanwhile, Neil had the inspired idea of ringing the actual port in Santander. Miraculously he got through to someone who spoke excellent English and patiently reassured him that our ferry was “definitely” still running tomorrow. Panic over but this constant state of tension is doing nothing for my blood pressure, I can tell you!

Going It Alone

Doing Jordan without a guide or anyone holding our hand was very much our choice as Neil knew the country quite well. Amazingly enough, though, it all went to plan – with the exception of the sat nav. Could we get it to actually navigate the rush hour roads of Amman? Well, eventually but throughout the holiday it persisted on taking us on some very unlikely routes!

Whilst nothing like the sheer mayhem of Cairo, driving was, shall we say, a bit of an adventure. Amman particularly had us wound up and yelling at each other as my rather panicky, helpful comments weren’t always appreciated by the driver. However, I think touring Jordan this way meant we got a much more personal experience than if we’d continued with an escort. To be honest, it did come as something of a relief visit the tourist sites at times that suited us, spending as long as we liked there and simply being free to absorb the remarkable atmosphere without being lectured. Maybe we’d have found out more about the places we visited with a guide but a bit of research beforehand goes a long way. There’s always someone offering to guide anyone visiting independently if you want that extra – for a fee, of course.

Special mention must go to the extraordinarily well preserved Roman city of Jerash. I was particularly blown away by the idea of walking down a Roman street, on the actual stones trodden on by those ancient people. I doubt there is anywhere quite like it in Europe.

Of course, everyone visiting Jordan heads for Petra. We again decided to do it our own way – very early and on foot. You could choose to ride a horse, camel or donkey (all seeming well treated and cared for, by the way) and I’m quite sure you would get something different from the experience. But not only is there something of an achievement it doing the entire site on Shank’s Pony but it also means, again, you do it all at your own pace particularly as every turn produces another vista, often looking like something from a movie set – but real! The Bedouin really do live in Petra and the surrounding desert landscape throughout Jordan in much the same way as they have through history. OK, we did spot a satellite dish in Petra but I suspect these particular Bedouin are doing pretty well out of the tourists!

You could go up to the Monastery by donkey.

At this point I decided I’d give this particular offshoot of the main route a miss.

The other highlight was swimming – no just floating – in the Dead Sea. Actual swimming is out of the question – you do not want to get your face especially your eyes anywhere near the water! It really is a strange and, once you get used to it, relaxing experience. It was just what we needed to round off a genuine Bucket List holiday. 

Covering yourself in the mineral-rich mud is all part of the experience!

 

Something Different

When we decided in the Spring that we wanted to do something extra this Autumn rather than heading straight for Spain, we mulled over lots of options.Visiting friends in Abu Dhabi, exploring more of the Far East, a trip to Australia, New Zealand, South or Central America, an American road trip etc, etc were all discussed. When Neil mentioned a Nile Cruise, however, a plan was born. We would combine a week in Egypt with another in Jordan. 

I’ve dreamed of going to Egypt since the Tutankhamun Exhibition came to London. Not that I went to see it, a twelve year old growing up in deepest Stoke-on-Trent just didn’t do that back then. But the coverage and images penetrated beyond the Watford Gap and I was lucky enough to have an inspirational​ teacher (bless you, Miss Kane) who had a passion for history. She didn’t have much time for the Romans or even the Ancient Greeks, regarding them as just evolving the original – the Egyptians​.

Neil spent a year working in Jordan, loving his time there, and has often said he would show me the country so suddenly it all made sense. We booked the cruise through a tour company so that was easy enough, all flights and transfers sorted for us. Neil quickly mapped out the basic structure for the Jordan week, knowing exactly where he wanted us to go and how long to stay at each place. The graft came in booking hotels, a hire car, excursions and so on, resulting in a mountain of paperwork being printed. Finally it all came together. Just the packing now!