The Trip Diaries: The Time We Did Beirut - On the Way, pt. 1

Dear reader, the trip diaries will come in parts so as you don't get bored reading one huge piece. For now, all you need to do is sit back, chew on something you like, and read.

You know how you always dislike the person who forgets things right before they travel? Passports, tickets, etc.? Yeah, I dislike them too. Dislike I tell you. But this is hilarious because 10 minutes before I was supposed to leave on a trip at 6:30 one morning I discover that "oh, S***, I forgot my passport". I laughed my head off, I couldn't be angry because hey... I wasn't even half awake when I drove back home to get that passport. The only way to deal with this was to laugh more, and laugh more I did.

Start the road trip, road is misty, head is fuzzy. Or head misty and road fuzzy. Actually, that's more like it, and we move ahead not seeing what awaits us within 3 meters at a time. Of course with all the fuzziness ahead you won't expect there would be sun, and there wasn't, hence sunglasses under such circumstances would seem a bit odd, unusual, and improbable, yet, sunglasses with no sun help you sleep better on the road with Fayrouz faintly chirping in the background; the perfect recipe for a trip undertaken, most productively, in the morning.

Fashion note to self: sunglasses in winter work for you.

We covered a decent amount of distance in a rather short period of time that was made excruciating when the driver started telling us tales of escapades that may or may not have taken place in this life. But, who are we to judge? And by we I mean the backseaters. D on the other hand we abandoned and had to sit in the front. After all, I think, it's their thing, among a million other things that are their thing. All this was tailed by awkward silences, regularly broken by non-stop smoking on the driver's part (more on smoking in confined compartments later) and lots of sleeping or pretending to be sleeping on the backseaters' part.

Person suffering most damage: D.

Another thing of D's things is sandwiches. Who knew that even when you're in a car, doing virtually nothing but sitting, sleeping or talking occasionally, you would get hungry? I'll tell you who: D, of course. But that's not the revelation I had, while D is a wonder standing on their own, it is no revelation that they would know such a thing, my revelation is far simpler and endearing. Sharing food on the road helps you experience something new; the taste of solidarity with cucumbers and mint leaves.

The trip goes on, as we witness the rough terrain of the desert, the harsh atmosphere of plains in the winter with a hint of communist feel prevailing at some point, and the way things stand, bleak and tired, like the back of a beached whale. These things we witnessed were made a bit friendlier when a little sunshine oozed from above, reminding us that there's still warmth left in Winterland.

Later, not far along into the trip, the driver takes a funny position in his seat in which he leans against his door as though leaning on a wall, head resting on window, and driving with one hand. Oh the safety we felt. And the road goes on, bleak as ever, unending, very much like Ted Danson's forehead. And the driver's tales continue with showing off an uncalled-for macho attitude while dealing with the soldier on the border, the border soldier then shows off the authority bestowed on him by the king himself, and we have to deal with the unnecessary and unspoken male rivalry. Passing the first soldier, onto the next, the rant is different, it's about an 8-JD tax exemption, with an endless queue on border to get passport stamped after 8-JD tax exemption was found out. As if it makes a difference to travel now with spending JD 8, or the equivalent thereof, less than you'd intended, yes, like that was going to break your budget. Not the gas money, not the food, shelter or shopping you intended to do, no, it's the JD 8 you pay on the border.

The good thing is, or was, that the cold didn't stop many people from traveling. This means that at least they're looking after their welfare; they keep the frowns for their country of origin and go smile in other people's countries. Like a smile would cost them a leg or an arm. But I digress.

And by the way, the European Union knows its stuff: I can now understand how easy it must be for European citizens to move around Europe without the hassle of visas, because the same thing happened to me. Traveling without needing to obtain a visa just makes everything easier, and helps you be a more spontaneous person. It was truly a blessing, the freedom and safety with which we moved.