Restore to factory settings

Someone has stolen my mojo.  Again.  Bad news from home and just plain had-enough-of-winter syndrome seem to have robbed me of every ounce of creativity and all I want to do is hide under the two duvets, two woolly blankets and one winter sheet until it is much warmer and things look up in general.  Even a trip to Wadi Rum this past weekend could not cure the blues, and that says a lot! 

Back home in South Africa, on days like these, I would get in my much beloved black mini-monster Suzi (My Suzuki Jimny that I loved more than any human being should probably love a car) and head out to the Hartebeespoort Dam.  The drive from our house to the dam was just far enough to clear the cobwebs and by the time I reached the dam wall I would find myself slap-bang in the middle of a happy cliché where the mood would be lifted, the spirits high and all would be right with the world. 

Currently an Ammonite, however, tells a different story!  I find myself without transport, so if I want to go anywhere, I have to either wait for André to come home, or I have to put my life in the nicotine stained hands of the insane Amman taxi drivers.  Being a woman, society predicts that I sit in the back, where there is invariably no seatbelt to be found.   The majority of taxi drivers here appears to be chain-smoking caffeine addicts with a penchant for talking on their cellphones while driving.  Doing all this simultaneously unfortunately does not leave a lot of senses (Or sense, for that matter) left to drive properly and I have been unceremoniously thrown about in the back seat on many occasions as the taximan viciously tackles the various Amman traffic circles.

So I find myself longing not only for summer, but for the freedom that having your own transport brings.  If I had a car of my own, I would be in it right now, heading off to the Dead Sea, maybe drive up to the bridge at Wadi Mujib, turn around and head off to the Marriott Hotel, where I would have an Arabic coffee, shisha and maybe a slice of pizza before heading home with my usual happy mood restored to factory settings.  Oh, if only...

 


My little wannabe Jeep, Suzi in front, with Andre's (then) real Jeep behind.