Digital Wanderer

Rybakov, of course, fell into a stupor when we were so abruptly seated, poured tea, and told what's what around here. Until the very sunset, he didn't really understand what was going on, and experienced mixed feelings. However, I didn't just casually stop at this little house with the sign "Al Numeira". The thing is, I remembered reading in the profile of our host William that this is the very NGO (non-governmental organization) he is involved in, and he had even sent me the phone numbers of his friends from there, which, unfortunately, I hadn't written down. This organization is engaged in introducing eco-consciousness into the minds of the region's residents, and educates them on how to properly conserve water and electricity, and grow vegetables and fruits with minimal expenses.

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The previous part ended with us finally getting ready, around one in the afternoon, to start our journey for real, rather than just warming up like at the border. Ahead of us lay fifty kilometers, cut short in advance thanks to  the courtesy of Mr. Ragai. We, however, didn't even manage to start moving before a guy of suspiciously European appearance approached us. Tracing his trajectory back, we spotted a massive bike trailer full of mountain bikes, about 15 or 20 of them, no less. I must say that up to this point we  had seen bicycles in Jordan exactly once, so such an influx of bikes was a pleasant surprise.

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We woke up around ten, finished off the bread left over from Sasha's dish yesterday, and started asking Nadir, who was admiring the landscape outside the window with a glass of tea, to call up Ragai.
Who punctually arrived in ten minutes. We didn't expect such a trick from a Jordanian citizen, so we hastily grabbed our bags and ran out to load up. Mr. Ragai turned out to be a middle-aged, calm, slightly plump, and balding guy; he explained that Rybakov would have to squeeze in so that, bent double, he could fit together with the bicycle on the folded-down back seat.

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