A stroll through Amman

Amman, Jordan – February 2022

The journey starts at the Cabin Hostel in downtown Amman. In the morning one of the owners, Mohammed or Ahmed, greets me and we chat a little at the reception. As there is a busy sightseeing day ahead of me, I go to Hashem’s streetside restaurant around the corner to buy  Falafel & Hummus for less than 1 Dinar. If you have more of a sweet tooth, you can also stop at Habibah Sweets for some Kunafa. Back at the hostel, I meet some of the other guests and we share our day’s plans over breakfast. It’s crucial to always keep an eye on the fluffy hostel cat – she WILL try to steal her share of your meal.

And now the walk begins. The city of Amman spreads out over 19 hills, so no matter your destination, you will find yourself covering a lot of altitudes. Today, I am first heading up the hill behind the hostel to visit the archaeological site of the ancient Citadel. The exposed location offers 360° views of the surrounding city centre and several landmarks. Don’t miss the giant Jordanian flag to the East, the Roman Theater to the South and on its left the mega-mural called “The Column”. It shows a Jordanian man carrying a piece of a column from Petra on his head. After exploring the Citadell’s ruins for a bit, I head back down the hill towards the Roman theatre.

There are lots of taxi drivers waiting for me, eager to bring me to the city’s known and hidden gems. But we keep our gaze down and insist on walking. Until one man in an “Airport Limousine” car keeps going slower and finally starts to chat with me through the rollled down passenger window. He says he gives me a free lift to the main street, because there’s really nothing to see on the way. And so I ride down the windy streets while listening to his recommendations on places to visit in his homeland. Hamad drops me off at the busy main street and before crossing it, I make a quick stop at the next Shawarma shop.

The owner is an old Palestinian man who happens to speak some German as he was living in Cologne for a few years. He says he eventually returned to the Middle East because he missed his family and the lively streets. He dreams of being laid to rest in his birthplace of Jaffa but knows that he will likely never set foot there again. Moved by this encounter, I take my (giant) Shawarma to the square in front of the Amphitheater across the street and sit down on one of the low walls for my meal.I watch the kids play, tourists take their souvenir pictures and groups of teenage girls snickering. 

Re-fueled, I brace myself for the next ascend. My goal is to reach the Abu-Darwish mosque on top of Jabal Al Aschrafiyya. With its unique black and white stripes, it’s visible from far away. As soon as I turn around the corner of the theatre and off the main street, the atmosphere seems to have changed. There are no more tourists, no children playing and laughing and no honking cars. Most people I see are walking downhill towards the centre. A couple of them – well-meaning, but unasked for – give me the directions to the Roman theatre and tell me to turn around. I thank them but continue my uphill walk. Only after the third encounter of this sort do I ask the man if it’s dangerous where I am headed. However, he doesn’t seem to understand me and just keeps pointing to the theatre.

A few corners further, I am now really on my own. There are few people hanging out on porches, who mainly ignore me or shout “hello” from their balconies. The only other noise comes from the speakers mounted on pick-ups selling things like strawberries or electronics. When I finally arrive at the top, I find a bustling high street lined with small shops and local cafés. I am definitely in need of refreshment and try to order lime & mint juice. However, the guy does not speak English and the only useful Arabic word I know is “Laymun”. And following my instructions, he hands me a cup of literal juice from fresh lemons. Sipping the bittersweet drink, I explore the area around the (rather dirty) mosque for a bit. Unfortunately, only Muslims are allowed to enter it.

Quite tired by now, I prepare for the descent back to the city centre on the other side of the hill. The winding streets are quite similar to the ones I took on the way up. They are lined by beige cubic buildings with flat roofs and trees planted in fenced-in front yards. On the rooftops, you’ll usually see some water tanks and satellite dishes. Across the streets span hundreds of power lines, mounted on wooden posts on the sidewalk. After a good 25 minutes, I reach more lively areas and finally arrive at the Downtown Souq. The first stall I see sells a variety of sweets straight from the bowl-shaped, hot stove. I treat myself to some fried dough balls covered with lots of sugar and head back to the hostel.

There is soo much delcious food in Amman. So I compiled a separate post about all the great restaurants in Downtown Amman I went to.