A few years ago I was addicted to the history channel. They used to show this breath-taking shoes of places all over the world–old, historic places that were so beautiful and interesting. One of those places was Petra, in Jordan. This lovely place is carved out of rocks, surrounded by mountains and filled with gorges and secret passage ways! Maybe its the writer in me but how has no one thought of writing a secret agent book that’s set in Petra?
But I digress.
Petra is a Nabataean city to the south of Jordan founded around the 6th Century BC. It was an important center for trade and commerce until a major earthquake destroyed most of the city and crippled the water system around AD 663. It was abandoned after Saladin’s conquest in 1189.
Today, Petra is a UNESCO Heritage site and one of the NEW seven wonders of the world!
According to wikitravel:
Entry Ticket to Petra costs 90 JD (=127 USD) for those who are Day-Visitors to Jordan (i.e. those tourists staying in Israel or Egypt who will spend the day in Petra and return without spending the night in Jordan). Tourists (overnight and cruise visitors) pay 50 JD (=70 USD) for 1 day’s access to Petra, 55 JD for 2 days or 60 JD for 3 days. Students have to pay the full price, unless they have a valid Jordanian University ID; then the entry fee is 1 JD.
So, I am trying to write a short story for Harlequin’s Digital First Erotic Vacation Line and I am researching different countries to see where I could have my heroine visit. I googled Exotic Vacation Location and this website showed up that listed the top ten exotic vacations we can all afford. Thailand was on that list I thought about it.
Thailand isn’t the first place I would think of being beautiful. Maybe its because of the stuff you read in the news or see on television but I never saw it as a vacation location. Then I started looking at the pictures and all I can see are pristine beaches, beautiful green waters, ancient temples with statutes – it was the most spectacular views and floating markets. This is such a beautiful place – such wonderful intricacies that is breath-taking. Well sure, there are drawbacks but are they so much that I would never visit this lovely place? I think not!
Happy New Year my lovelies. I know it’s a little far into the year but I have been running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Haven’t had a chance to do much travelling because it’s crunch time at school. But I’ve been thinking seriously about the traveling thing and the places I’ve always wanted to go. Here’s a quick list of my top places where I am seriously considering taking off my list until they get their acts together.
The truth is, I travel for enjoyment and there are times when I look through my travel list and I wonder why I want to go to some places. I’m not much of a political person, I am more of a think with my heart most places kind of places. While I’m not a really big activist, I do try and live my life in a certain, with certain principles.
Indian – While India is a beautiful place (from what I can see in the pictures and from my friends) it’s lovely. The culture is rich and thousands of years old. I mean come on, the Kama Sutra! Who wouldn’t want to visit the place that came up with positions where you have to be a gymnist to perform? But lately (and this is just lately) two women have been gang raped on a bus. One victim was gang raped and beaten then tossed off a moving bus with her friend and left for dead. While her friend survived, she died after doctors couldn’t stop her organs from shutting down. It breaks my heart to see this and I figure until they can get their things together, create laws that will protect everyone, protect women and their rights, that I will remove this country from my list.
Russia – The whole thing about the adoptions and the US is signs of worry for me. Enough said there.
This goes back to what I said before of being safe. But, you can also use your travelling to show things you support and WILL not support. It’s safety and being able to sleep at nights.
On my way to Bridgeport, I had to get off one bus at New York’s Port Authority and switch to another bus to take me to Bridgeport via White Plains and Stamford. As the bus glided through Harlem I took some pictures of places that intrigued me.
On my ill-fated trip to Bridgeport, or rather back from Bridgeport, we had to go through New York via Grand Central Station then Port Authority rather than just through Port Authority. So, my sister and I took some time to check out a little bit of the sights.
I should have known the moment I couldn’t find an airport in Bridgeport Connecticut that I was going to have an issue there. I mean what medium size town has no international airport? I searched for almost two weeks and every flight I tried getting brought me into New Haven then kind of just left me there to dangle. So, I gave up and took the Greyhound as you can see in my previous post. If I knew about the Metro train I would have just taken the Greyhound to New York then take the Metro Train to Bridgeport. Anyways, that’s over and done with.
I get to Bridgeport and thankfully my baby sister was there already and we got a ride to where we were staying together by my new step brother. First of all Bridgeport has ONE hotel. I am not kidding. They have one hotel – a holiday Inn. While it was nice we tried booking a room there and it was full. So we were stuck staying at some lady’s place. I personally was not pleased because well, it’s someone’s place.
Aside from the hotel, the most of the people we had contact with outside the family and close family friends were douche bags. I mean these people were horrible. I was walking behind this man into the Greyhound terminal after I got off the bus. I had one medium size suitcase on the wheels dragging, plus a large gym bag over one shoulder, along with my blanket and my purse and camera over a wrist. He saw me walking there. Can you believe he walked through the doors and let it slam on me? A man, saw me with all my crap and instead of at least holding the door until I step in so I can balance it with my hip or something, he simply walked through and let it close in my face.
I was NOT impressed.
Anyways, I karate kicked the wheelchair access button and the door opened. The good side was, when I pressed the one button it opened both sets of doors for me. So I’m in the terminal and thank goodness there was a place to get food. I went over to the counter and stood there. There were TWO cashiers there having a conversation so I stood waiting for them to finish their sentence then see what I wanted. Oh no, that would have been the polite thing for them to do. Instead they kept talking and laughing until I got irritated, slammed my fist into the counter and said “excuse me!”
They didn’t look too pleased that I had interrupted their conversation but after being stuck on two buses for 16 hours, having a door slammed in my face and every muscle in my body throbbing, I couldn’t care less. I ordered my food, watched them make it then carried my loot back to where my sister was. She only wanted a water bottle since she’d packed enough pizza for her three hour trip from Manhattan to Bridgeport to feed an army.
So–finally we got to the house and dropped off our stuff and the madness began.
We stopped first at the dress store to have my sister fitted for her bridesmaid’s dress. What I found so messed up, is she was swimming in the dress after she’d given them her measurements that were professionally taken. I kept pulling the dress up and it kept falling down. The dress wasn’t a little big–it was so big she couldn’t walk around in it without holding it up. The kicker was, she had to pay and added 15 dollars to alter the dress. They made the dress above her size, against her measurement and had the audacity to charge her to fix it so she can wear it. They did the same to my second sister and by that time I was so furious I was spitting fire.
The woman said “It’s not like I made the dress big so I have to alter it.” I glared at her at that moment wanting so badly to punch her. She silently walked away. I was not impressed and neither were my sisters or my father. But we paid the money because let’s face it, it was his wedding day and we didn’t want to cause a fuss. Lets face it–they deliberately made the dresses oversized. There were no other explanations.
We ate at a Subway that same day and that experience was less than stellar. The two cashiers in the place were arguing with each over a man and I was standing there blinking at them thinking “for real?”
Then my step mom (to be at that time) brought us to a mall and pulled into a parking spot. At the same time some crazy lady was pulling into the same spot from the wrong end – she had to drive through another parking spot to get to it so she was coming in the wrong way and almost crashed into my step-mom’s car. Then had the nerve to try and argue with my step-mom. I looked at my sister and asked, “why are these people deliberately pushing me?”
My sister chuckled because she knows me very well and she was thinking the same thing I was thinking if this woman said anything to Mama she’s going to have to deal with the three of us (myself and two sisters). I mean hell, you’re doing something illegal then have nerve to want to start a fight? Anyways, that ended without an issue, Mama got another spot and we went into the store.
When my sister and I were leaving Bridgeport we called a cab to take us to the bus shelter. When the cab came, the driver sat in the car and popped the trunk then watched as my sister and I struggled with our bags and suitcases to put them into the trunk. So with my sister’s help we got the suitcases into the trunk then climbed into the car. We said nothing to the driver. When we paid, I gave him a tip because I am a huge believer in Karma.
Overall, everyone we met, aside from the really cute storekeeper on the corner close to Mama’s place seemed to be in a horrid mood. They were all grumpy and rude and sometimes I wonder why they even left their houses that day. I am not sure what their problem was or if they were just having an off weekend or what but it was a horrible experience.
My only reason for going back to Bridgeport will be to visit my father and his new wife.