It's Not An Adventure Until The First Thing Goes Wrong*

My text to my daughters from Frankfurt on the way home from Amman read this way:

“The three German Polizei who interrogated me did not arrest me, so that’s a win for today.”

I suppose that needs some explanation, so I will attempt to explain in an unbiased way.  Except it’s coming from my point of view, so it will be pretty biased, but from where I sit (not in a German prison, so it’s not all bad), my version of the truth is the correct one.

Carol and I didn’t even try to sleep Friday night, as our pick-up from the hotel in Amman to get us to the airport was scheduled for 12:10 am.  Since we all had the same flights, Neil and Mary joined us on the journey that would take approximately 26 hours, from hotel pick-up to getting home.

Getting to the airport was not a problem, as there is not much traffic in Amman after midnight.  I slept maybe the first hour or even 90 minutes, waking up in time to see a desultory breakfast being served, spinning over in the my chair, and trying to doze even further.

Underdressed for the trip, with just an overly thin quarter zip and a short sleeve shirt, I pretty much shivered the entire trip.  The Lufthansa blanket was too small to do any good.

We landed early morning in Frankfurt, with six hours to kill between flights.  So I was pretty cranky when the whole Backpack Security Incident of 2023 (The BSI as it is already known) went down.  

In Frankfurt you have to go through security when passing from the arrival bus drop off to your next gate.  And that’s where it all went bad.  Not really bad, for example not as bad as “the Polizei are pulling their guns and yelling at me in German (the friendliest of languages) to get my hands up” but I believe I could see that happening from where we were, especially when I trolled them with some of my answers to their questions.

But bad enough that I attracted the interest and intense questioning of not one, not two, but three police officers, as well as various and sundry TSA-equivalent folks.  I’m pretty certain seven German officials were involved, but there may have been more.  By the way, even though it was all nonsense, the police in particular, once they took over the scene, were quite nice and calm to me.

Editor: Were they friendly?  

Writer: Let’s not get carried away.  The two Annas, Franz, and I aren’t going to be exchanging Christmas cards.  

Editor: I can see it now: “Dear Anna, Anna, and Franz, remember that fun confrontation we had on February 11th over nothing?  Yup, good times!  Anyhow, Merry Christmas and (German phrase for Merry Christmas)!”  Writer: Ain’t happening.

The TSA-equivalent geek was slow, but when my backpack was going through x-ray, he went on a hunger strike or something.  He sat there, looking at the x-ray of my bag and doing nothing, except every so often talking excitedly to no one in particular.  

Minutes passed.  Eventually a few other TSA-types drifted over, and they all conversed excitedly.  (There was a lot of excited talking going on.)  I commented to one guy they ought to search my backpack.  They didn’t want to do that.  I offered to open the various backpack pockets myself, but that was dismissed, probably because they figured this 60 year old white guy with a laptop and a iPad in his hand really had a hankering for blowing himself up (spoiler alert, I didn’t have that hankering and didn’t even have a bomb in my backpack).

Meanwhile, I indicated to Neil and Mary that they should go to the Lufthansa lounge.  They indicated they were staying.  Their reaction (they were far away) indicated they were supporting me, but I KNOW they really were just curious whether I would be perp-walked in handcuffs.  I wanted to yell, Russell Crowe-like, “Are you not entertained!”  But I restrained myself so I wasn’t restrained.

Eventually a policeman (Franz) showed up.  Then Anna.  They started questioning me, and I kept recommending they actually look in the backpack.  They couldn’t do that until their supervisor showed up.  When Anna 2 (not their real names, but German enough) showed up, the three of them looked like combined, the three of them added up to 60 years old.

Before Anna 2 got on the scene, I realized I could be in trouble just based on the answers I gave.  Oh, the first couple were easy.  “My passport is in the backpack.”  “Here’s my driver’s license for ID” both meant I passed with flying colors.

The next two questions were fine, but it was my answers that caused me to feel like it could be an even longer day of misunderstanding.  When the answer to question 3: “Where did you fly from?” is “Amman, Jordan,” you realize you are naming a country in an area of the world not known for stability.  When the answer to question 4: “Where are you flying to?” is “Washington, D.C.” you realize you are naming a place that occasionally is considered a likely  terrorist target.

 

Channeling Ralphie, I thought to myself “Oh fudge,” only I didn’t say fudge.

At that point, I would have actually understood it if they took me into the secret soundproof room in the deepest part of the airport and beat the ever-living snot out of me.  Heck, in their shoes I would have taken that very action based on my two answers.  (By then, I figured it was easier for them to take me to the beating room than to actually open my backpack.)

They didn’t take kindly to my repeated suggestions to open the bag and look, or for me to do it for them.  Then, of course, when they asked me to tell them what was in the bag my mind went blank. I felt like Ralphie when Santa asks him what he wants for Christmas, little boy!  Then I slowly stammered out the answers.  My camera.  Some chargers for my iPad, iPhone, and laptop.  Paperwork for the trip.  Pens.  

And then, just to be snarky, I mentioned my notebook.  I thought that was a pretty damn good troll, and I got the response I was stupidly looking for – Anna 2 rolled her eyes, sighed, and opened the various pockets and looked into them.  I got a lecture that everything is electronic and I was supposed to pull it all out.  

Not willing to let resting dogs fall asleep (it’s the overlooked stage before “letting sleeping dogs lie”), I noted that I’ve never had to pull my camera out at other airports.  Anna 2's response?  A coolly delivered “This is Frankfurt.”  It crossed my mind to high five her, but I refrained and simply chalked one up for her.  I mean, even in a confrontation I have to give props when props are due.

At some point early in this fiasco, Carol came back over and tried to keep me from losing my temper (I wasn’t going to.  Okay, I walked up to that line, but when German police are involved, I’m not THAT stupid).  And, to give her credit, her hand gently rubbing my back did keep me from blowing a gasket.

Meanwhile, I would occasionally look down the way to Neil and Mary and mouthed “go, save yourselves” but I’m pretty sure they had lit a fire to make popcorn to watch the show at that point.

Eventually, a good 20-25 minutes after my backpack entered the x-ray machine, I was told to go on my way and remember what to do the next time I fly through Frankfurt.

Yes, I thought to myself, I’m going to take every damn thing out of the backpack, even if it slows the line down.  And, after all that, we still had five hours to kill.

*Faithful readers of the blog know that John Passacantando deserves credit for the always great “It’s not an adventure until the first thing goes wrong” line.  It’s an adroit on-point reminder that stuff happens when traveling, whether overseas or in the wilderness.)

Jerash Photos

There's a lot of photos here, but as you know, I could show many columns of photos featuring columns.  Every one of these photos is amazing.  And there are a lot of good ones I didn't include (which is true of most of the posts.)

The Hippodrome entrance, where

they raced Chariots of Fire.

Osama's home town, up on

the mountain.  With snow.

Hadrian's Gate, built for the

Emperor's visit in 129 AD.

It is 36 feet high and features

a triple gate.

You guess it -- it's all Greek to me!

From left to right -- Neil, 

Tom, Mo, Flo, and Mary.

Columns along a major street.

Olive oil press stone wheel.

The grand Oval Plaza.

Columns along the Cardio, the main

route through Roman Jerash.

Flag of Jordan, caught mid-wind gust.

Cardio -- the higher columns indicate 

an important building.

Groove in the stone caused

by chariot wheels.

The higher columns to the right

indicate the entrance to a Temple

or important building.

The Macellum/Market.

Mary at the butcher's shop.

His cutting table still has

knife marks in it.

The Nymphaeum, a large

fountain similar to Trevi.

The north gates.

Columns at the Temple of Artemis.

Another view of the Temple of Artemis,

the most important temple in the city.

The ancient church.

The South Theater.

The city of 1,000 columns.

The Oval Plaza from above.

Bagpiper and drummers.  Yes, I tipped

them.  Hearing them play in the 

South Theater was special.

The Oval Plaza from the Temple of Apollo.

One last spectacular Oval Plaza picture.

Jerash-ic Park

Our last outing on the tour was to Jerash, Jordan, probably 45 minutes north of Amman, and just 20 minutes south of the Syrian border. What purposefully little I had read about Jerash was gushing, but I decided I would prefer to go in relatively cold, knowing little.  I decided I wanted to be surprised.

Jerash far exceeded my expectations.  It is simply the best Roman ruins of a city I’ve ever been too.  In past visits to Roman ruins, I’m always in awe because the ruins are roughly 2000 years olds.  I actually was worried that I would be totally underwhelmed, coming off of Egypt, where stuff ranges from 2000 to 5000 years old.  Nope, I walked around Jerash in a complete sense of awe and excitement.

Alas, Carol, who shares my love of really old stuff like Roman cities, Cathedrals from the Middle Ages, and now Egyptian temples tested positive that morning for COVID.  Even though there was an outbreak of COVID at the very end of Egypt tour (five people overall got COVID out of 24 tourists, plus one guide and one bus driver).  Carol had originally tested negative a couple days earlier.  Her only symptoms were a cold, but she tested again as the number of cases from the tour climbed from one to three (and then a fifth around the same time as Carol).

Osama Alsmadi, our man in Jordan, gave us a very detailed tour of nearly all of the most important components of the city.  And they are dramatic.  The sun was out for the first time during our four days in Jordan, 

(On the bus ride, Osama told the funny story of a tour he was giving where he introduced himself first, and then introduced the bus driver, whose name just happened to be “Jihad.”  He said he got a LOT of nervous looks from the people on the tour that first day.)

The result is that the plentiful columns, the roads, and the temples were all bathed in sunlight, resulting in dramatic sweeping views.  The Roman ruins are surrounded by the current city of Jerash, so you look past a massive Roman gate and there are apartment buildings.  There are more discoveries being made outside the main Roman town, and odds are that many ruins are covered by dirt and current buildings.  That’s how life is.

I won’t recount each section we visited, but will instead incorporate that into the photo section.

Jerash is built on a hill, so we took the low road (two of us are political consultants, so we can’t help) from beginning to end.  Then, Osama gave us about eighty minutes to wander around, so we all went up to the Artemis Temple and then wandered around the high road.  It’s very cool to have that much time to go where we wanted to go.  

I happily snapped over 200 pictures, including a bunch of selfies that I texted back to Amman for Carol.  I wasn’t trying to make her feel bad for missing the day, but to let her know I was thinking of her.   

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a place with more columns – apparently the town is known as “The City of 1,000 columns,” but Osama believes the actual number is higher than a (sarcasm font) puny 1,000!  

Interestingly, Jerash is NOT a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  In this case, “Not UNESCO still means you must go.”  The reasons UNESCO has not elected it to the amazing Earth Hall of Fame that is the World Heritage list are two-fold, according to Osama.

The first is that early on, the reconstruction used concrete instead of the mix that looks more authentic.  Of course, that was in the 1930s and 40s.  UNESCO wants the concrete replaced with what’s used now.  Of course, that would cost gobs of money (I can’t put a concrete figure on it, but know that it is high) and take tons of time (I can’t put a concrete figure on the length of time).

Editor: Really trying to cement this blog as a mixture of interesting facts, your reactions, photos, and bad puns, are you?  Writer: Finally, someone who gets me!

The second is that the city of Jerash hosts a big concert everywhere on site, as the acoustics are tremendous.  UNESCO says the site shouldn’t be used for that, but it is such a tradition in Jerash that they put the request in the circular file (if anyone under age 50 reads this blog, a “circular file” is a trash can.  

Look, I know I’m enthusiastic about a lot of places we visit, but if you are planning a trip to Jordan, give yourself a day to get to Jerash.  The drive is beautiful, past rolling hills replete with rocks, large mountains, small towns, olive groves, pine forests, and orange trees fat with ripe oranges (well, at least when we went – depends on the season).  Osama even pointed out his hometown.  It’s at the top of a 4,000 foot high mountain, and was covered in snow (snow not always included).  

Don’t just do Petra, the Dead Sea (which we didn’t, although I’ve been to the Israeli side), and Amman if you go to Jordan.  Make time for Jerash.  All six of us were quite taken with it, and I personally would put it up there, to use baseball parlance, just a half game behind Petra.  Oh, and I’m hopeful it becomes a UNESCO World Heritage site.  Thinking of helping with the polling!

So there's a LOT of selfies here, but I took extra to text to Carol back at the hotel, since she was stuck back at the hotel in Amman.

Hadrian's Gate selfie.

The Oval Plaza

From Apollo's Temple, 

above the Oval Plaza.

The high road, look at all the columns!

The Temple of Artemis.

The Macellum (the market)

I think this is the Oval Plaza

The Hippodrome.