The last part ended with us getting on a bus. What I forgot to mention is that the bus was a double-decker, air-conditioned, with a stewardess making tea and coffee, and even a working toilet! For the first time in my life, I went to the toilet on a bus. Keep reading, this is far from the last time on this trip we saw or did something for the first time.
The bus hadn't even covered thirty kilometers before it stopped. But not just like that – we were asked to get out and take out our things. It turns out there are checkpoints inside the country, and there, albeit half-heartedly, they check travelers and their belongings. Israel is close, and for now, Jordanians want to maintain normal relations with it, so they fight terrorism as best they can.
Anyway, the break was short. Along the way, we stopped a few more times – for no particular reason, just for smoke breaks. This was the second time out of roughly a million that we encountered the fact that Jordanians smoke like chimneys. Always and everywhere – driving, on duty, at the checkout, around kids, at home, in the hotel lobby, at the reception, on the floors, and judging by the smoke-filled rooms – even in those, although sometimes there are prohibition signs hanging around.
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