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On the road to Wadi Rum
By Kent R. Kroeger (November 16, 2019)
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This essay documents my challenges and observations during my family’s recent travels through Oman and Jordan.
This is the second essay in a series. The first essay can be found here.
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Our Jordanian guide, Abo, a middle-aged man of Palestinian descent, greeted us outside our hotel in central Amman.
“Good morning!” he said with a wide grin across his handsome, sun-weathered face. “We have a long drive to Wadi Rum.” A five-hour drive, according to Siri.
As my wife, two of her work colleagues, and my son piled into a white Dodge Caravan, I hurriedly finished a Boston creme I purchased from a Dunkin Donuts next to the hotel. My wife glared back at me, knowing I would mess Abo’s nicely detailed van if I tried to finish my feeble breakfast there.
“I’m sorry, Christa. I was hungry.” Her glare softened somewhat.
“Just finish it outside.”
My teenage son, Zach, in a constant grump since arriving in Amman, especially after our room’s satellite TV feed went dark, jumped into the far back rumble seat with me and put in…
