25/07/2026
🌙 Stories by the Fire — Three Days Home
My father does not speak about the distance in kilometers.
He remembers only that he had three days of military leave.
More than 45 years ago, before I was born, my father served in the Jordanian Army 400 km from Wadi Rum. Holidays back then were rare. One hot spring, he was granted three days to go home.
He travelled a full day from Amman to Disah, only to find his family had already moved with the goats deeper into the north of Wadi Rum, following the spring grass.
The next morning, my grandfather took him part of the way toward Ma’an and dropped him a few hours’ walk from Bedouins grazing their herds. There, father learned his family had moved another 20 km farther, near the Giant Rock Bridge.
A Bedouin from the same tribe offered him a camel. Father refused because he did not want to burden anyone with returning it.
So he walked.
For five hours, through the shifting desert sand and heat, until he finally found his mother and brother.
Because they saw each other so rarely, his family prepared a goat in his honor. That night, they ate, sat by the fire, and talked for as long as the night allowed.
But his leave was short.
After just few hours of sleep, he walked back toward Disah in the heat, with almost no water. At one point, heat exhaustion caught up to him. He rested under a scarce shade until his strength returned.
When he reached Disah, he washed his dusty army uniform, and the next morning, he reported back to duty.
Three days of holiday. More than fifty kilometres on foot through desert sand. No car, no GPS, no phone. Only the desert, the distance, and the wish to see his family.
When something truly matters, the feet find the way.
This is where we come from🌙
This is one of the stories my father carried from that time. This is part of what we share at Wadi Rum Desert Secret — not only the views, but the memories behind them.
Come sit with us by the fire🌙
