Andrew from the hotel wrote down the name in Arabic for us to give to the taxi. All seemed to go well, and we were dropped off next to a gallery — just not the one we were after. Oh well; we were here, so we might as well have a look. Inside, a few rooms were devoted solely to photography. The photos were by an artist born in Jerusalem who had been taking photographs since the 1930s. He also owned a collection of photographs going back to 1890. There was a combination of these on show: mostly photos of people and everyday life back then. There were some amazing pictures of people in traditional dress and cityscapes very different from what we had seen on our trip. It made us wish we had taken more photos of people. After visiting this gallery, we had to find out how to get to the one we had intended to go to. We could see a few landmarks, as we were on one of the many hills of Amman, but the street name was not on our small map. We wandered up a bit, but decided we might as well walk all the way down, find out where we were, and go from there. A couple of hundred meters down the road we found the gallery — no idea why the taxi had not dropped us off there in the first place. We started in a small room called "The Lab." There were some photos made with a very old technique that used water reflections. They were well done but a bit depressing and not particularly interesting, to be honest. Off to the side, in another room, was a video installation. A woman filmed her walk from home to work for a few days in a row, across one of the many checkpoints the Israelis have set up in the West Bank. She had to walk about 2 km each way because cars aren't allowed on this stretch of road. Of course she wasn't allowed to record, so we mostly got shots of her feet. It was filmed through a hole in her bag; the first time she tried, the police confiscated the footage and threw her American passport in the mud. That footage wasn't very interesting either—mostly shots of her walking past an armored personnel carrier (APC) and other people making their way to and from the West Bank. In the blurb she mentions that the Israelis can close off the road whenever they want, firing tear gas and live rounds into the street. If we had stayed to watch the whole thing there might have been something in it, but the two days we sat through weren't that interesting—just people walking.

From there we had to find the rest of the exhibitions. A couple of other buildings are further down the hill. This is the main section, and out front there is a Byzantine church. Some of the pillars have been restored, and there is a small alcove where the altar was. Andrew tried to conduct a mass there for his new church, but no one was interested in attending; even Anna walked away when he started preaching. The layout of this museum is very confusing. While walking around, we found what we thought was the main entrance, but it was locked, so we went up the other side. There was a small seating area with a fountain and trees providing shade—it was the perfect place to relax. We got a couple of freshly squeezed juices, which topped off the experience. However, we couldn't sit there all day; we still wanted to see what the museum had to offer. Inside another building was an exhibition by an amateur Palestinian artist criticizing Israel and the USA. The works were 3D reliefs made with glue and sawdust—pretty good, if gruesome. He had witnessed a massacre of more than 100 people, and all his work reflected this. One piece depicted a statue of Saddam Hussein being overthrown by American cockroaches; it was very well done. Another section consisted of coloured lines on canvas with sand glued on to give texture. That was about all we could find in the gallery. We were sure we had missed a lot, but it was confusing to tell which buildings were administrative and which were galleries. Back at the hotel, we decided to blog some more and try to catch up. After a while we were ready for dinner. Although we were both a little sick of hummus and falafel, we had promised Abu Hamsa the previous evening that we would go see him at Hashim's. He was there and glad to see us. He even took a bit of time off to come talk to us, but as it was busy (it always is, 24/7) he had to go back to work. We ended up ordering every dish they had: ful (beans), hummus, falafel, and feta. The feta was brilliant, and we hadn't had any in Jordan yet. It was a filling meal as always, and comes highly recommended to anyone visiting Jordan. It's also cheap — 4 JD for more than we could eat.

The 16th was supposed to be a day of shopping. Anna wanted some new clothes. Unfortunately, the clothing sold here either covers a woman from ankle to wrist or makes her walk around half naked; there doesn't seem to be an in-between. Anna gave up pretty quickly. To be fair, we only tried the streets in downtown Amman, not the big malls elsewhere.

We spent the afternoon drinking several Arabic coffees and smoking a shisha (nargileh) in an all-male cafe. We had one final falafel sandwich for lunch. We'd had many falafel sandwiches, and by then we were happy to leave them behind. We met up with Sofia and David for breakfast.