The Deacon's Bench
Up bright and early for breakfast, and then a final goodbye to our incredible hotel, as we board the bus for the airport in Amman.
Yes, Max Lindenman was sleeping again, in the lobby, with an open book on his lap.
The Amman airport is beautiful, bright and manageable. Even our exit through security went smoothly. They search your carry-ons VERY thoroughly; I had to take out every item, and even had to open my laptop so they could look at it. (Some in our group had batteries confiscated.) They segregate passengers, so men and their bags are searched by men, and women are searched by women. Gender-specific frisking follows. But it goes quickly. Interesting footnote (literally): I didn’t have to remove my shoes.
Did I mention the food? They have food at the airport. Lots of it. And America is well-represented by Starbucks, Popeyes and McDonald’s.
I’m not sure Jordan’s idea of “nourishing” and “exciting” is the same as ours.
The Royal Jordanian flight was, once again, superb. Spacious, comfortable, with friendly and attentive service.
I lucked out and had an entire row to myself. (Thanks, David Rupert! He was supposed to be at the window seat, but found another entire row for himself.) On a 10-hour flight, I don’t have to tell you: this is a blessing. More than a blessing, it was also my bed.
Frank had beer. He, too, was blessed.
They served us two meals, lunch and dinner. I had chicken for lunch and beef for dinner. They were both surprisingly good. Dessert for dinner was tiramisu. Need I say more?
The flight home afforded us all a chance to say our final goodbyes. I made some great new friends and look forward to seeing them all again some day, maybe on another trip to Jordan.
Finally, I need to sing the praises of the woman who orchestrated this gathering and put the tour together: Christine Moore of the Jordan Tourism Board. I’m convinced there is no one in Jordan she doesn’t know—and no one in Jordan who doesn’t hold her in great esteem. She is the unsung hero of this adventure.
Low-key, soft-spoken (and always impeccably dressed), she was someone I came to call affectionately “The Tour Whisperer.” She always sensed what we needed when we needed it, and managed to structure this trip with plenty of downtime for writing, blogging, reflecting, praying and socializing. It was a busy nine days, but it wasn’t too busy, and she managed to keep it flowing at a perfect pace.
Thank you, Christine, for a trip we all will never forget.
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