Aaaah, Aqaba 1

Friday afternoon the campus steward, Mohammed, took us to the downtown Jett Bus station. True to form, no travel with Ken and Rebecca is flawless. Just as we pulled into the Jett station, Ken asked, "Does everyone have their passport?" Rebecca's face and heart sank. "I don't have mine," I confessed, feeling non-plussed and a tad peeved. Graeme didn't have his passport either, after all, we weren't leaving the country. Mohammed assured us that everything would work out. But the niggling thought that we'd run into difficulty made the trip just a bit more uncomfortable that it might have been.

Tickets in hand, we boarded a bus that was a huge improvement over the one Ken and Rebecca took almost 24 years ago when heading to Aqaba. Still a very local mode of transport, we climbed to the top of the double-decker and found our assigned seats. Four young boys, about nine to 14, sat in front of us. Soon they struck up conversation with Justin, Graeme and Ken, exchanging names, laughing at our attempts at Arabic and trying their English. The four-hour journey included tea service and two or thee hours of an Egyptian television series. The plot seemed to feature a wealthy family served by the star of the show, a clever, sometimes slapstick butler. Not exactly sure, but that's what we gathered. The other bus riders seemed to enjoy it in spite of dicey production value – the set was like a theatre stage and microphones were visible on the lapels of the actors' clothes. The boys continued to communicate, especially with Justin, drawing pictures and figuring out words from the small Arabic for Archeologists book she had from her dig information.

Just before we began our descent into Aqaba, the bus stopped and a guard boarded to see ID's and check luggage. It was a bit tense for me, but Ken presented his document and Justin hers, and that was enough. Whew! After the checkpoint, the highway steadily dropped between the rugged mountains guarding the Gulf of Aqaba on the Red Sea. With passport worries behind us, I, Rebecca, enjoyed the dramatic shadows that the declining light created on the craggy mountains. Our first view of Aqaba was in twilight as the glow of the day gave way to evening lights. At the bus station several eager taxi drivers offered their services but we easily walked the block or so to our destination, the Intercontinental Hotel.

We've never stayed in a five-star hotel before. Let me tell you, we'll never forget this one. You'd have thought we'd been roughing it for a month rather than five days the way we swooned over our lux accommodations – two rooms – each with a balcony and partial sea view, sumptuous beds, western bathrooms, unlimited water. The hotel also offered private beach access, an amazing swimming pool, breakfast buffet, and lightening fast internet. We all agreed we could get used to it.

Ken and I left our things along with our sleepy children in the rooms and went for a stroll on the beach. The almost-full moon was so bright that our shadows fell on the sand as we stood facing the sea. Lights glowed from the surrounding hotels as well as from boats anchored in the quiet water. We could also see the lights from the town on the Israeli side of the gulf. A breeze rose off the water. We claimed two lounge chairs on the beach and sat gazing out to sea, enjoying the salt air. After our first full day digging and our long bus ride the tranquility of the place seemed like a drug. We realized the wisdom of Justin and Graeme, and headed for bed ourselves.