Saturday Suq and beyond...

The cure for over-programed life, exhaustion and fatigue from working like a donkey: sleep, then spend a day exploring without a watch and only a suggested list of possible destinations.

After sleeping in and eating late (7:00 instead of 4:30), the idea of a morning nap appealed to Ken and me. Once rested up from the exertion of breakfast, we showered, dressed and set off for my first trip to the suq. As we neared this commercial center, the bustle of traffic and people on foot increased. Once I adjusted to the sensory overload – sounds, smells, sights – I kept my camera ever at the ready. Furniture, flowers, instruments, garments, fresh fruit, books, perfume, backpacks, coffee, meat, fabric, trinkets, houkahs, watches, videos, kitchen pots. A two-lane street and network of shady, warren-like alleys twisting away from and back to this main artery, provide space for permanent merchants as well as mobile vendors selling socks, chewing gum, or bottles of bubbles for children.

After the suq we stopped and asked directions to Darat al Funun, a museum of modern Jordanian art housed in three renovated villas. Art currently featured includes triptychs by Halim Al Karim and a photo and video survey by Jananne Al-Ani.

Once refreshed by lemonade with mint and interesting art, we walked up to Paris Square, really a circle. En route, we passed a bakery where baker (from Egypt, as we learned) thrust rounded dough into a flame-heated oven and within minutes flipped out fresh puffed bread. The Jordanian owner asked if I was from Germany and seemed a bit disappointed when I confessed, "No, America." Wandering 'round Paris Square, we found our way into a delightful cafe, the Librairie de Paris. We spent a leisurely afternoon eating sandwiches and crepes (see picture), sipping tea, and skimming books from the cafe's English collection. I found a copy of U Magazine, Jordan's answer to In Style. Our whole day – the suq, museum and cafe – felt just right and I knew once again what makes travel magic for me. It's the surprising and familiar all jumbled together in unexpected ways. It's moving through an unknown place at one's own pace.

When we felt like it, we paid our bill and assured the host we'd be back again. Our taxi ride home was a bit long. The driver said he knew how to find Amman Training College. He over-spoke. Who knew we'd be happy to see the gate of ATC again?

Now time for a Sunday afternoon nap. Check back again for details on Sunday's exploration.