A Lady in London

Arriving in Oman you get the feeling that you’ve just landed in the country of Disneyland. Every building is shiny and new, every car is less than five years old, and every highway is flanked by decorative street lamps just like those on Main Street in the Magic Kingdom. Only this kingdom—er, sultanate—is real.

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Walking through the Hamidiyeh Souq in Old Damascus, clothing vendors called out “come inside”, jewelry sellers encouraged us to “take a look”, and ice cream shops beckoned us with their mountains of white fluffy goodness.

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Don’t believe what they tell you about Syria. It’s much easier to drive there than people say it is. My boyfriend and I had heard a lot of things about driving from Amman to Damascus before we attempted the trip ourselves. But from buses to shared taxis, private cars to rental cars, there didn’t seem to be any one option that satisfied us on both price and efficiency.

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Winding our way up the mountain from the Dead Sea to Amman, my boyfriend and I started to wonder if there is any flat land at all in Jordan. It seemed that every stretch of highway led up a stone-covered mountain or down one, and my ears wouldn’t stop popping with the changes in altitude.

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As my boyfriend and I turned off the road from Madaba to the Dead Sea, I had a sense of déjà vu. Winding down the steep switchbacks that took us from 100 meters above sea level to 260 meters below, I thought back to my last visit to the Evason Ma’in Resort in Jordan.

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I never celebrated International Women’s Day before Monday. I didn’t even know the holiday (would we call it a holiday?) existed until recently, and I didn’t hear about any events taking place prior to this year.

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Americans love Dave Matthews. Most of us tend to think that because he is tremendously popular in the USA, the rest of the world must be hooked on his music too. Not so. Whenever his name comes up around my British friends, they ask the inevitable question “Dave Matthews? Is that the guy all the Americans listen to?” Yep, that’s the one.

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I’m so over winter. I’m tired of the rain, the short days, the grey skies. I know, I’m spoiled. I just got back from three sunny weeks in Africa and I’m already complaining about the cold again. But really, it’s been freezing for four months now and I’m ready for spring.

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Football is a religion in the UK. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since moving to London, it’s that every English person has a football team that their family has supported since long before they were born. It’s tradition. If your parents are Manchester United fans, so you will be. If they support Arsenal, there’s every chance that you will too.

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