History, Movement and Mövenpick Magic

After a smooth flight from Dubai I touched down @ Queen Alia International Airport in Amman —eager, wide-eyed and ready to embrace a new chapter of adventure. My body was buzzing with excitement as there is something about landing in a new country that stirs every sense. The air feels different. The colours shift. The energy hums with an unfamiliar frequency, and I was ready to tune in—ready to explore, feel, taste, learn, move and be moved.

Midway through the flight, I settled into my seat, popped in my headphones, and flicked on the movie 300. An action-packed, slow-motion-filled ride—yes—but for me, it was a nostalgic journey back to my HSC history days. I remembered pouring over stories of Persia and power, diving deep into the legacies of Xerxes and Artaxerxes scribbling notes on ancient empires and their battles for control and culture. The story of Persia, Xerxes and Artaxerxes was once etched into the pages of my study notes, and seeing it all brought to life again reminded me why I fell in love with history in the first place. There’s a wild joy in watching fictional retellings of real figures you once studied with such curiosity and focus. I’ve always loved how history weaves through the present—how something as simple as a plane movie can reignite old lessons, spark curiosity and awaken that fire of wanting to know more.

That’s the thing about travel and history—they both invite us to become explorers.

They remind us that wonder isn’t something we grow out of.

Wonder is something we grow into.

After checking in last night at Mövenpick Amman, I checked in, exhaled deeply and gave myself permission to truly land. To let my body relax into this new energy. After a long journey is is comforting to find stillness after a long journey—and then sweetening the moment with dessert after a scrumptious dinner. Naturally, that included Mövenpick ice cream—my first official dessert of this trip.
Simple. Sweet. Symbolic.

A quiet joy that marked the beginning of what I already sensed would be a powerful and unforgettable journey.

I set my alarm early this morning for my first official workout of the trip. The first movements in a new city are somewhat sacred—telling your body, “I’m here. I’m ready. Let’s go.” This workout anchored me and reconnected me to my breath, my strength, and my intention for this adventure: to be filled with presence, joy, and grounded energy while feeling great too. Honouring your body first thing in the day it’s powerful, especially in a new place. With every rep and every stretch, I reminded myself that no matter where I go, I can feel at home in my body. Movement helps me arrive fully—not just in place, but in presence.

We headed off early for a full day of exploring with our private driver, who added so much knowledge and insight to the journey. Our first stop was Jaresh (Jerash), one of the world’s most remarkably preserved Roman provincial cities. As we stepped through ancient archways and wandered the colonnaded streets, it felt like walking through a story—one that hadn’t finished being told.

I found myself in awe of the city’s grandeur: massive amphitheatres, ancient temples, fountains, fragments of the public bathhouse and sprawling plazas. The South Theatre still holds the echo of voices from centuries ago, while the Oval Plaza—grand, circular, and open to the sky—felt like a sacred meeting point between past and present.

The most magical part is knowing that so much still lies buried beneath our feet. What has already been excavated is incredible—but just imagine what remains undiscovered. That’s not just true here in these ruins. All over the world, there are whispers of forgotten stories and unturned stones waiting to be brought back to life.

Walking through Jaresh was like walking inside a living history book—each stone a page, each shadow a clue. It reminded me how often we only see what’s on the surface. In places. In people. In ourselves.

From Jaresh, we made our way to the majestic Ajlun Castle—a fortress perched high in the hills, built in the 12th century by the forces of Saladin to guard against the Crusaders. This stone sentinel watches over the valleys below like a guardian of time.

Wandering through its cool chambers, dimly lit corridors, and narrow stairways, I felt like I was tracing the footsteps of those who had come before—each passage steeped in purpose and legacy. Then, climbing to the upper level, the view expanded and took my breath away.

Rolling green hills stretched endlessly before me, filled with olive trees and little villages nestled in the valleys. The midday haze softened the horizon as the wind wrapped around me like a loving embrace. From this vantage point, the chaos of the world quieted. Time felt as though it folded in on itself, and I stood there—small, still, and deeply connected. An observer and a participant in something much greater than myself.

It was time to pause for a delicious buffet-style lunch at Artemis Restaurant, where plates piled high with falafel, fattoush, pasta, fresh salads, creamy hummus, warm flatbread and spice-rich, perfectly seasoned rice. It was the kind of meal that nourishes your belly and your soul down to a cellular level. The view from the restaurant stretched across rolling hills and olive groves, offering a peaceful, sun-kissed backdrop to our meal. There is something so grounding about sitting down to a nourishing spread after a morning of walking, learning and listening to the land. Food, especially in a new place, is so much more than just fuel. It’s an experience. A language of culture. A love letter from the region to your tastebuds.

One of the most soul-sparking moments of the day came during a conversation with our guide, who spoke with such heart and pride about Bedouin culture. As he shared stories of nomadic traditions, hospitality and resilience, I felt that familiar tingle of recognition and connection.

There is a unique joy in engaging in meaningful dialogue—especially about something you have studied, been intrigued by or held close to your heart. I shared what I had learned about the Bedouin way of life during my teenage years, and the look on his face when he realised I truly cared—when he saw I wasn’t just listening, but understanding—is a moment I will carry with me.

In that exchange, the tour became something more—a bridge of connection. A reminder of why I love to travel. Not just to see, but to feel. To connect. To understand.

It reminded me that history and travel are invitations— To learn. To connect. To see with new eyes.

Whether in a textbook, on a documentary or on a rocky hillside overlooking Jordan, the stories we uncover always—and I mean always—have the power to change us.

This simple equation I am about to share with you says it all—a formula for wonder: History + Travel = Curiosity Awakens.

Whether through a castle window, a centuries-old amphitheater, a shared story or a dish filled with cumin and care—history and travel have always been portals of curiosity for me. They awaken the part of me that longs to know more, feel more, and stay wide-eyed in a world that can so easily harden us.

Tomorrow, I’ll be diving deeper into the vibrant heart of Amman visirting The Amman Citadel, the Roman Theatre and Odeon Folklore museum before heading south to the ancient city of Petra and then on to the magic of Wadi Rum. There, I’ll sleep beneath the stars, wrapped in silence and stories, and let the red sands speak to my soul. My next words will likely come from a tent, cradled by starlight, stillness and stories—a desert lullaby to end the day beneath a sky that stretches far beyond imagination.

Until then, I am choosing to move with wonder, listen deeply and say yes to all the magic this land is offering me. 

“Every ancient stone, every desert breeze, every new conversation is an invitation to remember who you are beneath the noise. To walk where others once walked is to feel time collapse into presence—because history isn’t behind us, it lives within us.”