True Grit


I had to choose between a Land Rover and a camel.  I went with the former as I’d ridden a camel in another  life–back when my own seat had better padding and there was a guy I needed to impress.  Never mind that this rickety 4-wheel drive was old and dusty.  It smelled fine.

Our Bedouin  driver, whose name sounded like “Abusive” instructed me to photograph my son and husband, who’d chosen camels to get them from here to there.  I noticed behind my lumpy seat a barely dead chicken, 6-pack of sodas, some grimy blankets , a greasy old grill and dented teapot.  We were headed for a barbecue in the same sand where Peter O’Toole played Lawrence of Arabia way back when.  Call it a picnic in the desert–Jordan style.

Bracing myself with one hand, I snapped photos with the other while marveling at the stunning scenery.  Suddenly, without warning, Abusive slammed on the squeaky breaks, shrieking…


Spinning us into a 180 the crazy nomad stepped on the gas.  Careening back towards where we’d come from, I noticed my family looked perplexed. Their faces read, “Where are you going?  And why??”

Little did they know…


Given the camels loped along at a turtle’s  pace, I could not understand our rush. Clearly I had made the wrong choice in transportation.  I’d be killed in a Land Rover while my family arrived safely by hump-backed animal.

Regardless , we got the bread, piles of flat stuff,  along with a package of something that looked like human index fingers sprinkled with sugar. By then I had lost my appetite, along with my hat and composure.

But we had the bread.

Piles of it…


One Comment on “True Grit”

  1. Sandy Stewart says:

    The pictures look so peaceful. Loved reading what led up to the peaceful picture. Hey sweetie , Who gets to live and experience like that? Thanks for sharing. 🐫🐪

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