Sunday 1 July - Dar As-Saraya Museum, Irbid

Today we would visit the Dar As-Saraya Archaeological Museum in Irbid. Originally a castle built by the Ottomans in the mid 1800's, it was acquired by the Department of Antiquities in 1994 with the intention of creating a museum that would have on display ancient artifacts originating from archaeological sites located in the Irbid Governorate, including Abila.


It currently houses many of the works that have been found at sites around Abila, mainly pottery, glass, metal objects, and the odd bust. After our visit we would be left to our own devices for the afternoon, which would include getting back to Hartha on our own steam, or ingenuity, depending on how confident you felt in your mastery the Irbid public transport system.

After we'd finished at the museum, I opted to spend the afternoon checking out the surrounding area. The museum is located in Downtown Irbid, a completely different area to that where Yamouk University is located, and definitely the cooler part of the city in my opinion. You'll get a lot more of your souk's and markets here, if you're after that more Middle Eastern flavoured "shopping experience" (words cannot express how much I hate that phrase, or even the whole concept of the "shopping experience").

Decided that I was very much in need of some local olive oil, basically to bring back as gifts. Of course this couldn't be your garden variety olive oil that one could get at the local Safeway (which do exist here in Irbid). Oh no, I had to get it from the more "authentic" places, markets such as this.

Plenty of olive oil was to be found, problem was it was either in those industrial size tins, which wouldn't be an option for a backpack, or in flimsy plastic bottles, which of course would probably burst in the backpack on the trip home, covering everything with the stuff. So I was on the hunt for bottles of "authentic" Jordanian olive oil. Did find one place that stocked awhole assortment of goodies - heaps of different flavoured coffees, spices, and of course the oil, which I promptly purchased, along sith some coffee, cardamon seeds, and some honey (thought I needed a break from flavouring y tea with sugar). It was only after getting home home that one reads the fineprint on the back (the fineprint that's the ONLY thing that appears to be in English). Olive Oil - product of Syria. Honey - product of Australia. So much for buying local...

Did my usual wrangling with the buses - found directions to the South Bus station (a walk of about four blocks), and from there attempted to find a bus to the North Bus Station. Everyone I would ask (once we got passed th language barrier) indicated that I was better off catching a taxi. Oh no, I would say, I want the bus. Taxi will be quicker. Doesn't matter, I want the bus. I want to master this sucker, get the authentic Irbid experience.

My new guides would generally look at me like I was retarded (something I was getting used to), shrug their shoulders, and would put m on the nearest bus that "looked the part". No, that's not quite true - was led on to a bus, given a seat, and waited about 15 minutes before the bus would depart for the North bus station. I suspect its a situation where they wait for enough people to get on to make the trip worth their while, as opposed to buses leaving at a certain time to a particular timetable. No dramas, I was in no hurry - hey man, this is the Middle East - time to shake off that rigid structure we rely on in the west, Man...

Can I say that I do love catching buses in Irbid. Great way of seeing the city, plus it keeps you on your toes (sometimes literally). Made it to the North Bus Station (I even recognised it, didn't need a homeboy to tell me that we were here). And got the first bus I could find that would be heading to Hartha. The driver did look kinda familiar, and he greeted me like he knew me. For five minutes I found this rather disconcerting, until he showed me the driver ID's that were affixed above his window. As it worked out, this was in fact Barakut, who shares this bus with Abu-Nassar, our regular driver in Hartha. Then of course I'd noticed the 'I Love You' fuzzy dice and other little knick-knacks - I was sitting in the same bus that takes us to the site every morning - even the same bus that took us to Jerash and Ajloun yesterday. So much for powers of observation...

So did the trip back to Hartha, taking note of the 'tap on the window with a coin' technique I'd noticed from last week's getting home exercise. Just outside of Hartha we stop outside someone's place, Barakut gets out, and is replaced with someone else. That someone else gets in the drivers seat, turns around to me and gives me a "Hello Mr Rich". Happens to be Nassar, who works as part of our local crew for Area E - Abu-Nassar's his old man - obviously does a bit of bus driving on the side when he's not digging in the dirt with us. I should point out that, as I understand it, Abu-Nassar owns the bus. Similar situations to Taxis at home - someone will generally own the cab that they drive for the company, or will lease it our to someone who will drive it for them.

In any case, we drive for about five minutes before Odey gets on into the fron seat. He's also on our crew, a bit of character. "Hello Mr Rich" he says, in that particularly wicked way he says it. All right, lets get the rest of the crew on board!! Rest of the crew never shows (I'll be seeing them soon enough tomorrow morning bright and early).

Nassar drops me at the school, won't take my half dinar coin, or any money for that matter. "No please, friend..." he says, and shoos me off the bus, refusing any payment and ignoring my protestations. Oh well, what can one do, certainly you can't argue with Jordanian hospitality.