After a little lie-in, as much of one as we could stand under the rapidly heating tin roof and wall, we packed up, got breakfast, paid our bills and said goodbye to pricey Petra. We got a small bus to Karak where there is a well preserved castle on a hill. The trip took around three hours in a small bus which dropped us off at the bottom of the hill in the scorching sun. Great. Still not feeling 100% we made our way to the top where a cheap hotel Lonely Planet recommended was now charging far too much for the meagre rooms on offer. After fruitless negotiation with the owner of the shabby hotel, we sat down in his lobby and questioned what we were doing in Karak, it transpired that neither of us cared too much about the damn castle, oh well, we were there and tired and decided to move onwards the following day. I waited and read in the lobby while Djalma headed off to find an internet café and another hotel.
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| From Karak, Jordan |
Jackpot, next door there was another hotel; cheaper and better, we dumped our stuff and I made myself comfortable on the toilet with my book, my tummy was telling that although the worst was over there was still more to come. Djalma insisted on a big meal and while I was busy on the throne, he went out to get it. He came back with bread, ½ a chicken, salad and hummus and forced me to eat some. I abhor being force fed mainly because eating should be a pleasure not just a need to survive. I managed a fair bit, mechanically chewed and swallowed, washed down with lots of water, at least I didn't have any problems with that any more. We settled down and watched a film 'Where the Wild Things are' which was good but that didn't stop me from falling asleep at the end (and forgetting to brush my teeth).
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