When you’ve been waiting a long time for something, you can easily start to wonder if that day will ever come. Today was one of those days, where after three years since I’d booked it, I would now be flying to Jordan for the start of another adventure. An afternoon flight meant I wouldn’t need to be in any great rush either, I could take my time getting up and running before getting a lift to the train station for the first leg of the journey.

It was a little after rush hour when I arrived at the train station. I’d got my luggage on my back, and my hand luggage in front of me. I must have looked to people around me like some sort of mutant tortoise with my arms sticking out from between the bags. This was only a short wait though, and I was soon on the non-stop train to London St. Pancras. Albeit after a ten minute delay.

I sat wearing a face mask, about the only person on the train still wearing one it seemed. This carriage was almost like that of a ghost train: deserted, so after a time I decided not to wear one either. I thought about the steps of the journey ahead of me, and wondered whether or not the tour company would be waiting at the airport for me as expected. I’d had my doubts since the tour was delisted from the website, but was pleasantly surprised they messaged me via WhatsApp to confirm they’d collect me from the airport later. I put this out of my mind, and sat reading my Kindle, occasionally glancing at the world passing by out the window.

When I arrived in London I had a few choices. There’s the Heathrow Express which is more expensive, but faster, or there’s the normal London Underground. Since the opening of the Elizabeth line, there’s now that from Paddington via the Circle line, and the Piccadilly line that could get me there. I thought it’d be nice to try out the new line, so I went with that. When I got to Paddington station though I found the Elizabeth line wasn’t running properly due to a faulty track. So, I carried on to Hammersmith and took the Piccadilly line from there to Heathrow. This one is harder to find as you need to leave the station, and go into a different building over the road.

The check-in at Heathrow Terminal 5 was a little less straightforward than usual as the self service didn’t work with my boarding pass - it’s one of those where someone needs to check if you have a visa or have completed the pre-flight requirements. The security was reasonably quick though, but by the time I’d found somewhere to eat it was already 13:00 - most places had massive queues outside.

I’d actually thought ahead here and had made some sandwiches at home to eat on the plane. This would mean I wouldn’t need to buy hot food on the plane, and could have a decent hot meal from the airport instead. The best option I could find was a half chicken at Vagabond. They were short on tables, so ended up sharing a table with a stranger. The service there was quick, and gave me plenty of time to also fill my water bottle before I needed to head to the gate.

The gate should have been announced at 13:40, so I stood and watched the board to know where to go. Nothing. Another ten minutes passed and other flights were now showing their gates, but nothing for this one. I wandered from monitor to monitor, thinking I’d be closer to where the potential gate would be. After thirty minutes had passed there were only five minutes until the scheduled boarding time, but the gate was finally available. Terminal 5C.

Even with the train between Terminals it still takes time, and sure enough we began boarding late due to a late arrival from Venice.The aircraft wasn’t even half full when boarding was announced as complete so there was a chance we’d made up for lost time. Nope. The catering company hadn’t turned up for the business class food, so the rest of us also had to wait for that. By the time it kicked back from the gate it was already fifty minutes late. With every delay, all I could think of was that it’d be eating into my sleeping time, of which there wouldn’t be time for much anyway.

On the flight I watched some TV on my iPad, read a little, and ate the sandwiches I’d prepared earlier. As the hours ticked by I looked out of the window into nothingness, but as my eyes adjusted to the dark, the constellation of Orion filled my view. It’s one of the few I’ll always recognise when I see it. With less than thirty minutes to go we were then passing over Israeli airspace, and they made a point of mentioning this.

“We are now flying over Israeli airspace. We ask that all passengers are seated with their belts fastened.”

I wondered if this was of some concern to them normally, or maybe those two statements whilst said together were not actually related. Had there been some further hostilities between them and Palestine in the last few days? Whatever the case, we’d made up quite a bit of time in the air, and would be arriving now only thirty minutes late. I’d expected an airport like Nepal or Malawi, but this was more like arriving at Heathrow - a big modern airport terminal.

Yazeed from Trip500 met me before immigration, and took my passport and other paperwork from me. He seemed very surprised I’d bought a Jordan Pass, almost as if they hadn’t wanted me to. I needed it though for the other parts of my trip that they weren’t doing. He even phoned someone and mentioned this, though I don’t know what the context of this was as he spoke in Arabic. My hope was that as I’d got this they wouldn’t be expecting me to use it for my first trip to Petra when it was intended for my second, though I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be included in the trip or not. The visa I think would normally be 80 dinars, but was included as part of my Jordan Pass.

After that he helped me through passport control, and carried my luggage for me to the car. He’d wanted to carry my backpack too, but I declined as it was a little more delicate and I’d already got it on my back anyway. By the time we left the airport it was midnight with about an hour ahead of us to reach the Meneur hotel. The car smelt of stale cigarette smoke. Yazeed asked a little about my free time in Amman, so naturally I explained I’d be doing a marathon in the Wadi Rum. He got me to repeat that again later so the driver could hear and have a laugh about it. I think they thought me insane.

“Sir, David. You need anything?” Sleep. Sleep was what I needed now, I thought. “No, nothing. Thank you, ” I said instead, before sleepily adding, “Shukran.”

Yazeed then left to go home, whilst the driver continued on to the hotel. By the time I was checked into the hotel and settled it was past 02:00.