Jordan Trail – Day 3: Prehistoric Paths
JORDAN TRAIL
Day 3: Prehistoric Paths
April 01, 2025
PART I
With this campsite being much better sheltered from the wind, most of us managed to get a much-needed good night’s sleep. And, as we had been warned, we were going to need it, given that this would be the most challenging day of the trek.
Even though we weren’t yet halfway through the hike and still had a relatively long time left in Jordan, every breakfast we were served came with a bittersweet feeling. Once I was back home, I would return to my usual routine of force-feeding myself eggs early in the morning to boost my protein intake and bulk up.
God, I was going to miss the hummus. I think I speak for the entire group when I say that, although this was some of the best hummus any of us had ever tasted, we practically had it coming out of our ears. We were eating it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. That said, once mixed with za’atar and olive oil, I have to admit that I could wolf down entire bowls of it. And the za’atar? Hot diggity.
The dry blend commonly contains herbs such as thyme or oregano, together with sesame seeds, sumac and salt. Olive oil is then mixed with it separately – and it turns it into this divine mixture that I could simply live on. How was I supposed to live without this once I returned home?
The Elephant Rock
And so, with bags full of tomatoes and hummus, we started on our way. The third day proved considerably more challenging, with the climbs through the Sharah Mountains quickly bringing our arrogance back under control.
The Bedouin shepherd trails, bare peaks of black, rugged mountains and precipitous drops into the canyons below made this part of the trek spectacular, to say the least. Most impressive of all was the ‘elephant rock’ that Lara spotted. By the end of the trek, Spot the Elephant had become yet another of our signature games – with so many rock formations resembling the majestic creatures out of sheer coincidence (or maybe we were just hallucinating).
Walking with Dinosaurs
The highlight of the day, however, had little to do with the living world and considerably more to do with geology and prehistory.
A ten-minute detour that Delia had planned especially for us led to an area where the exposed rock appeared to have been hand-cut into separate slabs. Shallow depressions of different shapes covered parts of the surface. It took us a while to understand what we were looking at, but then, thanks to John, we finally realised that they were dinosaur footprints preserved within the rock. Good to know!
Delia told us that they may have belonged to ornithopods, a group of predominantly herbivorous dinosaurs that lived during the Cretaceous period. The track-bearing rocks date to the early Upper Cretaceous, roughly 100 million years ago, and preserve tracks attributed to several kinds of dinosaurs, including theropods, sauropods and a possible ornithopod.
PART II
Prehistoric Landscapes
As we gradually made our way up the hills, my relative lack of stamina soon translated into what the group came to recognise as my jovial suicidality, which became yet another running gag.
Much like Doug, I was instructed to remain within the group’s vicinity at all times, just in case. Occasionally, however, they would jokingly encourage me to surrender to the mountain. We all know I can be a bit too much sometimes. In contrast, when Rafael’s knees started acting up, the group’s suggestions were generally more constructive, especially when Hans offered him his Sporkife™ in case he wanted to consider an amputation.
Once the hardest part was over, the rest of the route was rewarding, to say the least. Red iron-laden rocks, green copper-containing ones and yellow-hued sulfur-rich stones had me gleaming at every rock formation that we encountered. And then there were the layers of sandstone studded with pebbles and shiny minerals, embedded there since prehistoric times when the area was still submerged by water. Safe to say, my stone collection got a sizeable upgrade during this part of the trail.
Hummus and Human Pretzels
As usual, our lunch spot did not leave us wanting for views, with the landscape below us appearing picture-perfect. Here, we could finally dig into our hummus, cucumbers and whole tomatoes.
After, we did something I had been pining for ever since the beginning of the trip: yoga. Although I’m nowhere near being an instructor, I have occasionally led a few yoga sessions. While I don’t necessarily do a particularly good job, I feel that something is still better than nothing. And so, on account of how stiff I was feeling, we had a fifteen-minute session of seated yoga. I have to give in to my inner White Gurl and attest to how restorative it all felt and how connected it made us feel, especially when John released his toxic energies in the form of a stinky gas cloud and we ‘Savasana’d the hell out of it’.
An Alien Landscape
On we went. As we approached the campsite, the landscape gradually began to soften, with mushroom-like rock formations lining the route. The rocky outcrops were spectacular, reminding me of the formations in Cappadocia, which had held me captivated throughout my stay there.
The sandstone was covered in tafoni – small, cave-like hollows created through prolonged weathering. In places, the individual cavities merged into distinctive honeycomb patterns, making the entire landscape look as though it had come straight from an extraterrestrial world. Simply astounding!
PART III
The Cave-Slash-Bathroom
After approximately 17 kilometres, we finally arrived at our campsite in Ghbour Whedat. Sheltered from the wind, this was definitely a cosier spot than the previous two, unless you counted the cave-slash-toilet-slash-shower.
With some idle time on our hands, I suggested another yoga session – a proper one this time. There were some initial reservations, mostly relating to whether some of the more ‘suggestive’ poses might be considered disrespectful to the Bedouins. Delia confirmed that this was not the case, so John, Lara, Rafael and I settled ourselves onto a large mat in the middle of the campsite and got busy turning ourselves into human pretzels. God, I needed that stretching so, so much. Over the previous few years, mobility had taken centre stage in my fitness goals. Going through a full day without stretching or performing some form of flexibility exercise would leave me feeling as stiff as a board.
After the yoga session, we all made our way up a hill with the most scenic of views. A proper sunset wasn’t on the cards, given the clouds looming overhead, but we still managed to get a good ol’ game of Yahtzee going. Remembering the luck brought by the bleating goats the previous day, I asked Lara to perform her own rendition. It actually kinda worked. Pretty soon, everyone had developed their own lucky sound effect. John’s was Liverpool’s ‘You’ll Never Walk Alone’, purely cause he had the face of a Liverpool supporter. Lara’s was the sound Pikachu makes, for no particular reason whatsoever. Doug had ‘We No Speak Americano’, given that he was a DJ. Hans had oinking, cause why not? Finally, Rafael performed the sounds of an entire animal farm, cause he had grown up on one.
I swear, we must’ve sounded like a bunch of… Well, let’s leave that to your imagination. I’ve been told it’s very much not politically correct to say such things, not out loud anyway.
The Frontroad Lads
Back at the camp, we were met with Robin and Sophie, a French couple whom we had occasionally encountered along the trail. For dinner, we were served what was introduced to us as a chicken version of mansaf, widely regarded as Jordan’s national dish.
Traditional mansaf generally consists of sheep or goat meat cooked in a sauce made from jameed, a dried fermented yoghurt, and served over rice or bulgur and thin bread. Chicken is not the traditional meat used, but our camp had clearly adapted the recipe. Much like every other dish we had tried thus far, it was simply mouth-watering.
Dinner was followed by a traditional Bedouin-style singing and clapping performance. Eid, Athallah and a couple of guides accompanying the other group stood in front of the fire, clapping enthusiastically while singing.
According to Delia, songs of this kind had once been used to energise Bedouin groups during conflicts over territory and resources. Nowadays, she explained, they were performed to preserve tradition and create a festive atmosphere. That was precisely what they were doing before inviting each of us to join them. None of the women in our group was invited to participate in that particular round, for reasons that were never made clear to us. Doug and Rafael immediately accepted the invitation and joined them for a couple of songs. Before long, Hans, Robin and I were dragged into the whole thing too. I, for one, particularly enjoyed a line that sounded something like ‘Rihan ikun irida’, which Delia roughly translated for us as ‘Rihan would like her’. I continued chanting it throughout the rest of the trek.
Later, we repaid the favour by giving them our own rendition of ‘I Want It That Way’ by the Backstreet Boys. Look out, people. The Frontroad Lads were in town!