Wadi Rum restored me. I’d been sick. I’d been a bit bummed about Petra, when a series of debacles and our child-rearing meant bagging on sight-seeing or eating at the restaurant. And our Tuesday camp at the Dana Nature Reserve, while enjoyable, somehow felt restricted. I mean, the dudes told us no balls of any kind could be brought into the nature reserve. I wasn’t looking to start a softball tournament, but it seemed like an odd rule for out in the middle of absolutely nowhere.
Wadi Rum was different. That’s in part because of Talat, the owner of Caravans Camp. He’s a great tour guide, a perfect party host and he seemed to be perpetually offering me Turkish coffee, not that I could hold down much more than my Azithromycin.
We arrived in serious heat and sipped our tea. Within minutes, a volleyball circle broke out followed by an impromptu soccer match. Lila played, fell and skinned her arm, and then got back in the game. She was thrilled to be part of the fun. I drank more tea.
As the sun began to descend, we were packed into the jeeps. We had been through this before. Blasting through the sand, seat belt free and stopping to climb dunes and get a few historical pointers from Talat. This was Lawrence of Arabia country, as evidenced by the image of the famous Brit carved into a stone.
The night is always special at Caravans. I, of course, overdid it. How could you not eat the lamb when they uncovered a giant, hot pot from the sand? I had seconds, which I can promise I regretted around 2:15 a.m. the next morning.
Cal konked out in the tent, allowing me to sit under the night sky with Carlene. A man played oud, we staged a mock wedding for two of the students and Lila wandered out into the mud flats with the older kids to check out the night sky. Is there more to say? Maybe. But I brought a few videos back to tell the story.
Here, Lila climbs the first giant dune and runs down. She was the first up and the first down… which meant she could go up again.
Cal cried like a two-year-old as I loaded him into the front seat. He wanted his mamma. Then the driver hit the gas and we were off.
The students were impressed that not only did Carlene climb the hill, she did it with a 28-pound, wriggling weight in her arms.
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