Our receptionist tells us us there's no diving in Haql, with it being so close to the Jordanian border. He's not right, but we don't know that then, so we go straight to the border. It's a confusing jumble of small offices, with no obvious starting point. We pick one more-or-less at random, and get sent somewhere else. The somewhere else sends us over to another place, where the process grinds into motion. One of the offices contains an edition of what appear to be the Saudi Customs Official Magazine, which has an article with photos of notable catches. The most bizarre (to me) is a car with the entire engine bay filled with cans of Heineken.

We're transferred smoothly from office to office to perform each step of the procedure which will allow us and the car to cross from Saudi Arabia into Jordan. The border and customs people are all pretty warm and open, if a little surprised to see a Briton, an American and a Finn driving a Jaguar to Finland. The whole process takes less than an hour and we're soon on our way into the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan.

The Jordanian side of the border is a little more painful. Getting visas and getting through passport control happens reasonably efficiently, but the car is more of a challenge. There are all manner of reasons why it takes a good four hours, many of them the computer's fault.

The Jordanian coastline appears to be mostly industrial from our vantage point on the road. Our hotel (a PADI five star resort no less) is just a couple of miles from the border up a hill, a little way out of Aqaba. We start our exploration of the town with the discovery of a Genuine English Pub called the Rovers Return.

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