We left our hotel at 8 AM for the one hour drive to the Jordanian border with Israel. The border office had no one in line so Nabil suggested that instead of the VIP service that costs an extra 100 Jordanian dinar (150 USD). Smooth sailing on the Jordanian side having our passports checked and paying the 10 dinar exit fee, but as we went to the bus, there is another 5 dinar charge for per passenger and 1.5 for bags. We’d deliberately spent all of our dinar –luckily they accept US dollars. There is a few km of land between the two borders that I’m not sure who owns. The process at the Israeli side was to take the bags out of the bus, stand in line to put out bags through a scanner and on to a conveyor belt to disappear into the building somewhere. We then waited in line for passport control. We watched as a guard accepted money from an Israeli couple and a young woman to break the queue in front of us. Another guard yelled at him and asked him what he was doing? A shrug. Another line and scanner for our hand luggage and we walked through another scanner—Louise’s knee replacement set off the machine and she was put to the side to be examined closer in a small room. Next is picking up all of our carry on that had been scanned. As we’re having yet another check with another young female TSA type, he tells me to go "over there", so we all go "over there". My luggage was there, but no one else's and they got pointed to another checkpoint. They need to look in my bag and then they take my passport. But the process is—the young TSA type said we need to wait for the security person who was smoking a cigarette under a “no smoking“ sign. I was not to touch my suitcase. As he came over, I was told to unzip my suitcase and then I had to leave to another room while she checked my suitcase. I also had a clear view of my suitcase all the time. I knew instantly that the problem was my Bedouin knife, but they were taking out a bag with my inhalers and another bag with some souvenirs and some rocks. Then out came my knife and she pulled it out of the sheath. Other people were called over to look. I walked back in and was told to get out. Finally she gave me my passport and told me to go. I asked what the problem was? "We can't tell you, but don't use your knife in Israel". ?? "Where do I pick up my luggage?" She pointed to the same checkpoint that the others had used. I stood in line to show my passport for the 4th time. I saw my bag going down the conveyor belt and motioned to the others who’d already passed though this checkpoint to pick it up. Finally out and another scanner that everyone except us was putting their suitcases through—Chris and I were motioned to go through for some reason. Finally out at noon and met our guide Habib who’d been waiting for us since 10 AM. I am less impressive with Israeli security than I was before my own arrival in Israel!
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