19. Jordan calling… or is it Syria

Arriving at Queen Alia International in Amman late on the Thursday afternoon, I grab a taxi into town.  I have Jordanian dinars, but only in large denominations and immediately get fleeced by the cab driver over his tip – good start! 

Since I expect to be roughing it in my tent or slumming it in budget hotels on the trip, I've decided to treat myself to a couple of nights in Le Meridien Hotel which is located in Amman's diplomatic quarter.  It's a nice hotel, but overpriced, though not as much as some of the others I checked on Expedia.  As a 'Starwoods Preferred Guest' (whatever that means), I get upgraded to a club room with access to the club lounge and it's 18:00-20:00 happy hour (nice!) and 'free' internet in the room.  This is a boost, though I'm constantly amazed at how these big-name hotel chains get away with charging outrageous rates for internet access these days, but there you go.

The room is fine and after the hectic past few days I decide to chill for the evening, but not till I've made contact with Mr Ebraheem, Saif's agent in Jordan.  I dial the number I've been given but just get a wall of noise through which I can just about make out some Arab music.  I check the code, +963, which is for Syria.  This doesn't surprise me as Amer at Saif told me my bike would be arriving at the joint Syria/Jordan Freezone area, not the Saudi/Jordan border as expected, which he said was just a short JD10 taxi ride from Amman - though this again later proves to be very wide of the mark. 

I dial again and this time hear a voice saying: "Marhaba" (hello).  I respond in kind and ask if this is Mr Ebraheem.  I cannot make out his reply but plow on emphasising the words David, dirajat (motorbike), Kuwait and Saif Transport.  He asks if I speak Arabi and I apologise and say: "La" (no).  He then says: "Speak Mohammed, speak English" and quotes another Syrian number. 

I try this one and again, am met with a wall of loud Arab music, perhaps they're in the same place.  But Mohammed then comes on saying: "That Mr David?"  I confirm indeed it is and he asks for my mobile number.  I warn him it's a UK number so he says: "Ok" then quotes yet another number at me, this time a Jordanian one and hangs up.  I try yet again and this time it's clear.  Mr Mohammed tells me my bike has arrived and is in the Freezone.  Then that he'll come to the hotel to collect me at eight on Sunday morning.  I was told by Saif's Amer that I would have to get a taxi there on Saturday morning and relate this to Mohammed, but he says the place will be closed Friday and Saturday, repeats he will collect me on Sunday and hangs up. 

This is all very odd, but by now 'odd' is par for the course.  I Skype my beloved to let her know I'm safe in Amman and bring her up to date with developments.  I grab the last twenty-odd minutes of happy hour in the lounge, which happily includes some nibbles, then have an early night.  I'm slightly concerned about the whole Saturday/Sunday discrepancy and am desperate to see my bike, but feel there's no point worrying about it and decide I can check further after tomorrow.