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A honeymoon on horseback

Olivia Glazebrook

Wednesday, 16th July 2008

Olivia Glazebrook and her husband brave the Jordanian wilderness

Being the sort of person who can throw a few things in a bag, take off at a moment’s notice and hunker down anywhere, I had left planning our honeymoon pretty much up to my husband. However, just to be helpful, just to make sure there wouldn’t be tears or tantrums on the first day of our marriage (at least, not from me), I did provide him with one or two pointers: ‘No long-haul flights, boat trips or bus rides; no spas, clinics or retreats; not too hot, wet, windy or air-conditioned, and absolutely no surprises. But really, my dearest one, it’s up to you; I’ll just fall in with whatever you decide.’

So on day two of married life I was delighted to find myself standing beside a Bedouin tent pitched on soft, pink desert sand. I gazed at the darkening silhouettes of colossal sandstone mountains, and I heard nothing but the wind, sighing across the sand and rattling in the bone-dry bushes. Then came the welcome clatter of dinner being prepared, and the sound of a horse knocking over a bucket. Bliss.

We were in Jordan, in the 300 square miles of protected wilderness which is called Wadi Rum (meaning Rum Valley), in the south of the country. We were riding horses by day and camping by night — but this was five-star, with a fixed camp, a comfortable bed and even a shower tent. Each morning we ate breakfast (halloumi, sesame, thyme and pitta for me, corn flakes for my husband), set out from camp, picnicked after a three- or four-hour ride, and then took a different route home again, arriving at camp before sunset in time for pints of mint tea and a large and delicious dinner.

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