Incomparable Petra
Jordan! Petra! At last! It was time for my day in Petra. I had returned to my hotel from last night’s Petra by Night experience hot, sandy and flushed. It was late but the shower was good, the room comfortable and sleep sound. I got up early to pack – it was off to Wadi Rum after Petra – eat, and be at the turnstile as soon as the gates opened. Down in the Mövenpick hotel’s large, cool breakfast room I ate well to fortify for another 100-degree day wandering around outside, and made a few careful selections to take along for snacks. By this time I had learned how fast my chocolate and peanut butter granola bars melted in this heat. User error. I didn’t appreciate exactly how hot it would be when I packed my favorite flavor back home.
Dusty tail end of history
So here was Petra. I had the most part of a day to spend there. I had read guides and had a map. I had seen the pretty pictures. I had marked places on my map that I wanted to see. I wouldn’t have time on the ground to see everything I wanted to. That would take endless visits, certainly more than one. But I had the time to get a sense of the place. In the end, that sense was of stepping in at the dusty tail end of history. Vast and empty, with the remains of a powerful past all around me.
The Nabateans had built their great city hidden in a rift valley along trading routes, sculpting the environment to suit their needs. Grand red sandstone façades were carved, rooms hollowed out. Other structures were built. Watercourses and fountains served the entire city. The city covered 102 square miles and yet it was hidden, entered only through its narrow slot canyon or by traveling over desert and mountains – if you knew it was there to find. The city thrived on its control of trade. Business was good. Socially, women were equal to men and played important roles in business and politics. But trade routes changed. The Romans eventually appeared around 106 AD.
Part of Petra’s valley
As Romans would, they added their buildings to the mix and although Petra remained important for a while, its decline had begun. In the 12th century European Crusaders came from Jerusalem to establish a defensive outpost but withdrew. Saladin (Salah al-Din) took over the Crusaders’ abandoned fortification, and the western world lost awareness of Petra until Swiss explorer Johann Ludwig (or Jean Louis) Burckhardt came on the sly in 1812.
Picking sights miles apart doesn’t work
102 square miles. Reading the history, looking at pictures, picking out what I wanted to see. That was the easy part. I was ready. But it turned out I could not come close to fulfilling my plan. I had picked some sights that were miles apart, so I reset goals and stayed within the city center, walking as far as I could, and seeing everything on the map along the way. I also took time to slow down and rest, wander around, poke into places and follow trails I thought would lead to interesting things but often didn’t. It was tough underfoot, sand and stones, only a stretch of Roman pavement to make it easier. I read that it takes only an hour to reach my farthest point. That depends on what you do along the way. By the time I emerged, I had spent five hours inside Petra.
Petra facades
Going through the Siq
Going through the Siq that early morning, I wasn’t alone but there were no crowds. It was already heating up. Along the carriageway I fended off opportunities to ride horses the few hundred yards to the Siq. You don’t have to refuse, but I did. Finally at the Siq, it wasn’t cool but at least shadowy. The first thing you see when you come to the end of the Siq is Al Khazneh, the Treasury. This is probably Petra’s most famous sight. This was it. I was here – in daylight now. People come from all over the world to see this. I actually saw some people enter from the Siq, look at Al Khazneh and turn back into the Siq. Maybe it’s all they cared about, or they’d been before. Maybe they didn’t know you have to exit that small canyon and keep walking. Camels lazed around waiting for tourists but no one approached me (yet) to sell me a ride. On beyond Al Khazneh, the main road’s eroded façades seemed to be melting away. But I hadn’t seen anything yet. Around another turn – and there the valley spread out. This is when I knew I wasn’t going to finish my plan. You can find the Qasr al-Bint on a map. It’s as far as I got. That’s where I read you can walk to in an hour but with all my detours, it took me much longer.
Al Khazneh, Petra
Forlorn, arid, beautiful. The city was beautiful in a forlorn way, arid, with its enormous eroded façades, decorated with veins of tan, brown and mauve rock, some fantastically. Oleanders bloomed in pink. A pistachio tree said to be over 450 years old grew by a wall. I kept the vision of a sizeable city of around 20,000 people with watercourses and fountains, beautiful buildings, gardens and lively commerce. City life more or less the way we know it. I went by all of the noted monuments, past the Roman amphitheater, the famous façades, the Great Temple that Brown University in the U.S. is excavating. It was hot and hard going underfoot. At mid-day, I rested and had my snacks in shade that I shared with a few local tourists and some goats. But the day passed and I failed at one place I really wanted to reach, the High Place of Sacrifice.
Half way to sacrifice
There are several important high places – holy places – on the ridges and mountains around Petra. The High Place of Sacrifice was right on my trail and my guidebook said it’s one of the easier to get to. But it also describes the climb as “dramatic.” That’s true. The way up is over rocks and steps carved into the sides of a steep narrow ravine. And it’s a long way up, over 500 feet from the top straight down assuming you get there. I’m a good climber, but if it gets precipitous, sometimes I find myself flattened along the wall like an espaliered tree. Unfortunately I couldn’t even do that here. At each point where the path crossed rocks, I surveyed the next series of steps. My brain was telling me I was high now, and that goes straight to my knees. Am I getting close, I wondered? Two Spanish-speaking men passed me on their way up. I pondered asking if I could climb with them, but if I saw over the edge at the top and went all paralyzed, it would be embarrassing for me and impractical for them to get me down. So I climbed around on the rocks while I pondered continuing. Then, feeling defeated, I said goodbye to my chance of getting to the High Place of Sacrifice, turned chicken and headed back down. Ahmad made me feel better when he picked me up that afternoon. The view is one of your goals, and he said, “it’s OK. It’s still very hazy.”
Climbing to the High Place of Sacrifice
Leaving Petra behind. I emerged through the ticket gate covered with Petra-colored dust and soaking wet. It was 106 degrees, according to my notes. I saw a flushed and tired reflection in a shop window – it was me. I bought more water in the shopping plaza and used the public toilets to freshen up as well as I could. Then I planned for all that sweat to evaporate in the shade, so went to the small concrete amphitheater by the visitor center, where a Russian tour group was gathering for their Petra visit. I intended to wait there until I met Ahmad at the hotel but I wasn’t evaporating fast enough, and was still so wet I was afraid I’d leave a butt-shaped water mark on the concrete. So I went into the nearby small free museum, which was cool and had informative displays besides.
I’ve read some indifferent reviews of the museum but I thought it was interesting. I read everything at every display – remember that I needed to stay there until I dried – and learned interesting Nabatean facts and a good amount about the distinctive and diverse local flora and fauna. Finally, almost dry, I met Ahmad and retrieved my luggage. My Mexican friends were leaving too, so we had a chance to say goodbye. Now, behind me was a huge valley, a rift in the mountains, hidden from view, like it didn’t exist. We would not be driving away and suddenly see a view of Petra below. Petra isn’t like that. It stays concealed in its valley. And now it was out of reach.
Some Petra practicalities
Food and water. So what was it like being there besides hot and dusty? My day started with a good breakfast at the Mövenpick hotel. I took a day pack and stashed a few things from breakfast because my chocolate and peanut butter protein bars melted in the heat. I took plenty of water. It made my pack heavy but I figured more exercise, and I’d be using it up throughout the day. There are cafes in Petra but I knew they would be expensive, if charmingly like sets from an American western movie.
Also in the day pack. Camera, sunscreen, wet wipes, hand sanitizer and pocket packs of tissue. I didn’t take my desert hat but it was an oversight and I do recommend a hat. I wore Palladium boots with treads perfect for rocks and sand and with canvas uppers that I could fold down. I saw plenty of athletic shoes and even sandals on other feet but I could have wrecked athletic shoes on the stony paths I took. I wore good hiking socks, North Face pants with good zip-up pockets and a black tee shirt. Black is counterintuitive for 100-degree heat but it doesn’t show sweat and dirt. I wanted to look tidy for all those selfies.
