Jordan rocks my world. Plastic Bags are the scourge of it.
These two statements are related. Although it may not seem so. Let me explain.
Jordan is a bit like Egypt, but the people are nice. There is a bit less to see, not having the same kind of crazy ancestry that required constant monument building to aid in the eternal afterlife, but the landscape looks pretty similar. Desert, big rocks, scrubby tress. A few more olives here, a brighter sun - and by that I mean that the quality of the light is just that much more lovely. Possibly due to the fact Egypt is covered in dirty yellow smog and Jordan isn't. But both places are covered in plastic bags. In fact, so is Lebanon and just about all of the places in this part of the world that I've seen so far. Including Afghanistan.
All kinds of plastic bags. All colours, all ages, all states of disrepair and all blown like tumbleweed to catch on trees and scrub across the desert. It adds a certain kind of carnival feel to the view - but more the empty lot after the tents have left town than the fun part. The road sides and city outskirts are the worst. It's sad because you know this rubbish is never going to go anywhere apart from possibly into the ocean. No one is going to come along with a big broom and sweep this mess clean. In many places in the middle east they have far more pressing things to attend to. Like war. It reminds me of the beaches in East Timor, which would be stunning were it not for the million empty plastic bottles lining them.
Anyway. Enough of the doom and gloom observations. Today I floated in the Dead Sea and it was a singularly uplifting and very strange feeling to bob about like a cork. Note to self; next time take a slightly smaller gulp when tasting the water.