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When Martijn Andriessen, Creative Director of Driftwood Tales apparel, first hit me up on messenger back in January to shoot their lookbook, the plan was to go on an adventure in Madagascar. I began excitingly fantasising about all the rad reptiles and weird creatures I´ve always dreamt of seeing. However, when he got back to me a week later with the news that we’d be going to Jordan instead, I reflected, semi worried about where Jordan is exactly. He informs me that we’ll fly to Israel and then cross the border by car. All sorts of scenarios flash by in my already dizzy mind. I think to myself I’m going into war zones
and chaos, but I’ve committed, so…well here we go.
Two weeks later I meet up with Martijn and his friend Jelle at Schiphol airport in Am-sterdam to fly to Ovda military airport close to the Red Sea. As we sit in the cab towards the Jordanian border, it dawns on me - this is so unreal. The taxi driver tells us about the different historical places we pass, but all I can focus on is the big, menacing, brand-new fence with a triple layer of barbwire that runs along side us. He tells us it’s to keep the people in Egypt from getting into the country, while mumbling something about injustice, and I try to diplomatically change subject. When we arrive at the border the vibe is really intense. We are ordered through X-ray scanners and told to open up our luggage to prove that we’re not carrying anything suspicious. The border controller finally tells us we can pass. I read ‘bon voyage’ on a big sign, where underneath stands a 90’s action movie-type character with a machine gun. I think to myself how the world can show so many different colours. As we walk over no man’s land another sign greets us ‘Welcome to Jordan’. Final-
ly we have crossed the border.
A CUP OF DESERTEA
Aqaba is the name of the town for the night. We check in, eat a good shish kebab dinner in town and head back to the hotel early to sleep, as we’re all excited to get out to our main destination - the Wadi
Rum desert.
The next day we arrive in a little town full of kids playing amongst broken cars and random holes in the ground. A couple of women dressed in Burkas cross the street, and then it hits me - we’ve arrived.
A young man called Sultan greets us, informs us that he’s a Bedouin and tells us he’ll be our guide for our stay. He shows us into a lounge area and offers us some tea. Without any hesitation the first sugary cup is downed, and the beginning of a new tea addiction era has arrived. The owner of the house and the Bedouin camp we booked to stay in is called Eid. He’s a semi-short, friendly-looking character, with a little flock of children that constantly come in and out of the room. We sit and drink tea for about an
hour, before it’s time to pack-up and leave.
The first views we are met with from the back of the old Mitsubishi pick-up are breath-taking, and we quickly realise that this is the real deal. After fifteen minutes we arrive at the camp, which is actually the home of Eid’s mother who’s lived out in the desert her whole 76 year-long life. She’s a real strong-looking woman with a gold nose ring that’s almost grown into her nose, and she does everything around the home…collecting the wood, cooking, herding the goats and slaughtering them - you name it! But as women and men don’t mix according to the Sunni Muslims beliefs, we don’t see much of her or her niece who helps her during the school holidays. As we walk into the smokey, dusty old tent, we spot our mattresses, a little fireplace within a circle of carpets, and sand - lots of it. We all take a moment and look at each other. The thoughts of scorpions, snakes and
cold nights start circulating our heads.
With no phone signal or WI-FI, and barely any possibility of charging our equipment, the smiles and jokes begin as we head out with Sultan for our first little trip out into the desert. As we go from spot to spot we realise the perspective of the desert is so different. Anything that looks walkable is
actually at least a fifteen minute car ride. It’s all so big and open.
We shoot a load of photos in a few different spots and as sunset approaches we drive back, as our camp is placed in one of the best sunset spots. After going bananas with our cameras and talking about how amazing everything is, the time for tea has come followed by dinner that we eat together with all the males in the family. Sultan says ‘we eat Bedouin style here, wash your hands and come sit down’. A big metal plate comes out filled with rice, chicken and herbs plus some Jordanian yoghurt. Sultan shows us how to squeeze the rice into a little ball with the right hand, as the left hand is not allowed to eat with. Every dinner we had from this day on was absolutely amazing, and really social with a small circle of people
sitting on the ground eating and laughing together.
As the days go by we shoot at dawn and sunset. During the day we drive to different places in the desert, and on some days a round of golf is played while someone is out climbing different sandstone mountains. We drink tea ten times a day, we smoke water pipes, play the flute and sing with the different characters who show up randomly. We speak of religion, culture, ladies,
taboos and everything that life has to offer.
After four days far away from everyday stress and social media, none of us want to leave. Everything is so pure, friendly and natural - a feeling you seldom feel in the world today. We feel safe, relaxed and so taken care of. It’s hard to describe it in words. There’s so much I would like to tell, but everything I’ve learned and seen in these impression packed six days is enough to fill a book. I would recommend it to anyone who loves a good proper camping trip, anyone who can enjoy the constant smoke from the fire, the five degree mornings and a boiling sun during the day…and anyone who loves tea. Go see Sultan and Eid in the Wadi Rum desert they will be some of the best hosts you‘ll ever meet, and you’ll come away with new friends for life.
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