Old Testament Lessons

Jordan’s ancient landscapes — from its limestone caves to its wild wadis — provide the ultimate adventurous terrain for brave novices to try some serious canyoning and climbing. Words: Jamie Lafferty

- Jamie Lafferty

They say the fat, arthritic olive trees in northern Jordan’s Irbid region were planted by the Romans. That would mean they were here at the time of local lad J. Christ, if not before. It’s a theory that’s not been scientifically tested, but is quite believable in this biblical land of dusty hills, itinerant goats, and near endless sunshine.

Light, divine and otherwise, shines across the Hashemite Kingdom, but I’m here for something much darker. I’m going caving, the first in a series of adventures above, on and below ground in Jordan. All of them are new to me, but what I lack in experience, I hope to make up for in enthusiasm.

“Sorry if I’m squeezing your balls,” says Hakim Tamini-Mariño as he tightens my harness and I take a sharp intake of breath. The discomfort is just enough to take my mind off what I’m doing: trusting men I only met a few hours earlier while they hang me over an abyss in the middle of nowhere.

Jordan’s limestone rock makes for excellent caving, but locating entrances isn’t easy. This is partly because some locals are suspicious of cavers’ motives. “They think we’re coming to steal gold,” says Hakim, who works in the government’s adventure tourism arm.

The dark boulders, fissures and eerie stalactites are all given a warm glow by the sulphur-flame torch Hakim has on the front of his helmet, but there’s certainly no gold down here.

The air feels simultaneously too thick and too thin. Through deep, laboured breaths, Hakim reminds me of how few people have laid eyes on this chamber. Being here does feel like the privilege of a genuine explorer, but in caving, what goes down, must come up, and so begins the 30m journey back to the light.