Drinks in Angelina’s Haunt

Last week I sat in Angelina Jolie’s seat and sipped a beer looking out over the Amman skyline.

Myself, Karen and three nice German’s we met were bored. We’d decided to go to the cinema, which turned out to be within Le Royal Hotel complex perched on one of Amman’s many hills. This meant we had the unique experience of being searched and metal detectored before we entered the building, unless you live in Tallagh. Our hostel didn’t have a TV; this hotel had it’s own cinema. When going to the movies involved being padded down by a charming fellow in full evening wear, you know it’s going to be expensive, and for this reason we decided to forego the dubious delights of Shutter island in favour of a good old dash through the back-stairs of Amman’s most prestigious hotel in an effort to reach the roof on the 23rd floor.

After much wasted time on stairways and fire escapes, a couple of near-misses with staff, and fairly illegal attempts to make the lift go past the 11th floor using a discarded keycard, we had to abandon the attempt. Le Royal had won, it’s lifts cunningly barred from going above a certain floor without a keycard. Enter ‘Mr David’ and his glamourous ladyfriend who happened to be descending in the lift with us as we bemoaned our fate. Eleven floors might have been disappointing for us, but they gave plenty of time to get talking to the couple, who turned out to be involved in Iraqi security. Exciting stuff. Even more exciting, from our point of view (literally), was that they decided to take us up to the rooftop bar to show us the view.

We stumbled out of the lift, doing our best to blend in the with our surroundings- we were in baggy, old, unwashed for days linen trousers with practical shirts and bags stuffed with cameras and guidebooks; everyone else was in tuxedos and ballroom dresses. We pretended not to notice and enjoyed the stunning view out over the capital of Jordan from one of it’s most famous hotels. While we grilled the nice gentleman about his work in Iraq (Q: “Is is dangerous?” A: “Yes”), his very nice ladyfriend took it upon herself to order us drinks, before departing for some ball or other, somewhere.

Which is how we found ourselves sipping drinks and talkin with the barman about which famous guests he had served. And which he hadn’t George Bush went to the rival Four Season’s Hotel he announced, unable to hide his disdain. We tinkered with the lamps around the room (working bulbs!), went to the toilet, separately (so clean!), and played with the TV (CNN!) and then it was time to go. Our hostel felt slightly less glamourous. Yeah, it had never felt glamourous. But at least we didn’t have to dress up. And the light’s kind of worked if you twisted them a bit…

Blurry pics below: