Experiences of Jordan

The cultural custard that is the world is painfully evident in Amman at 4am today, as I decamp from Bangkok for a four-hour killer stopover till Cairo. The toilet attendant is Egyptian, the woman naughtily smoking in the loos and chatting with her is Iranian, but gets her Australian citizenship in April. The Starbucks is the only place open, playing trad jazz and while it won't accept American Express credit cards, will take (and give change in) US dollars and the bored baristas are all perfectly fluent in English...

One of the ways to kill time is playing with this blog so I've changed the colours and thrown my hand open to something about 'followers'. Painful, I know. Don't make me suffer the embarrassment of having to invent false followers:) I've also made it easier to make comments after a couple of you said you couldn't give out to me publicly online;) Go sick, people.

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