Jordan, part I

It's safe to say that things in Amman didn't get off to a great start. We checked into the Petunia Hotel in the midst of a cold front that sent temperatures into the mid-40s. That didn't phase our bellhop, who showed us to our room, pointed up, and said "The air conditioning is very good - it's on full!"

We tried the heat, but the room never got out of the low 50s. And the shower didn't work until we called for help. We went to bed in full thermals, froze all night, and woke up to traffic on the highway twenty feet from our hotel. This was definitely not the Chivas life.

We started biking the next day, heading north out of Amman past fields of olive groves set amidst simple stone fences. Despite protests against Danish cartoons all across the Islamic world, most people were excited to see us. Little children ran out to wave at us, and one man stopped his red Toyota in the middle of the road, opened the door, and said "You are welcome to Jordan!" The teenagers in the town of Ibbin, though, had a peculiar way of greeting us - throwing stones and snowballs. But even that was entertaining in its own way - call it our "Hey! We're in the Middle East!" moment.

The first day involved a lot of climbing, but the ride was worth it when we finally crested a series of hills and the whole Jordan valley opened up in front of us. Directly across the valley was Israel and Palestine. Due south was Mt. Nebo, where Moses is believed to be buried and where we would be headed the next day.