The Dead Sea Iron Curtain

Staying in a holiday resort hotel in Jordan, right on the banks of the Dead Sea.

The start of work is delayed because the equipment got stuck on a ship with a broken engine. The ship was used to avoid driving the equipment through Syria, so the plan back fired, though probably a good thing they didn't drive through troubled Syria.

So it's a day of waiting, nothing to do. Took a walk round the fancy hotel, which has a beach down to the coast of the Dead Sea. But it's a fake beach, sand delivered by truck, poured in so the tourists have soft sand between the toes. Staff on hand to serve drinks, showers close by, parasols and comfy seats. A few people were in the salty water, having a float, doing the mud bath thing.

Over this high wall was the real Jordan. A gathering of locals, cars parked randomly, some horses, a camel, faint music drifted over, smoke from bonfires for food. They stood in big family groups, on the real coastline, knarly rocks and loose mud. A different world over the wall.