My second on-foot border crossing (after the Tanzania/Kenya border) came not long after sunrise after a long overnight bus trip from Tel Aviv to the southern Israeli city of Eilat. The bus was filled with energetic Israeli youth, I suppose returning home after partying in Tel Aviv over the weekend. Patricia and I didn't like them much, or their music playing cell phones.
We took a taxi to the border, who dropped us off at 6am with a promise that the border would open up at 6:30. Right. As we waited with an odd collection of locals and backpackers, the desert sun started to warm things up and before long it was clear you didn't want to be sitting there too long without water.
Happily, the border opened on time and a few checkpoints combined with a couple hundred meters of walking was all it took. We were greeted in Jordan with the looming face of the royal family.
Unlike some of the other backpackers, I didn't actually take pictures at the border -- this is from Petra, but gives you an idea. Pictures at the border of any country are a bad idea. No need to give them any reason to detain you!
Petra Lives
Remember the scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (of course, not actually his last) where they finally find the hidden desert city built into the sandstone cliffs? That's Petra, and the magnificent location of the Holy Grail is called the Treasury. It's every bit the adventure that Junior makes it seem.
The approach to the city made it worth our stressful overnight trip. Initially, an easy hike from the road down a gentle slope, you begin to wonder what you've gotten yourself into when you arrive at the entrance - a towering sandstone gorge looms and you step in without a clue what will be around the corner. Down the path you can hear the clip-clop of donkeys, but all you do is look up at the cliffs and seriously hope they don't have flash floods in July.
The anticipation of entering the ancient city grows with every turn. And finally, a break in the cliffs comes and you catch of glimpse of the beauty of the Treasury.
The awe makes you feel like the Holy Grail could actually just lie behind those massive columns. I felt the same gasp of emotion as when looking out over Austria's Alps, standing in front of Michelangelo's David, or driving through New Hampshire's rolling hills in the Fall. Hard to describe. Perhaps just best shown. Amazing, as well, is how it can look so different in the changing daylight.
We continued wandering through the city, originally started about 2000 years ago by the Nabataeans, an "industrious Arab people...turning it into an important junction for the silk, spice and other trade routes that linked China, India and southern Arabia with Egypt, Syria, Greece and Rome." They built massive structures, but apparently lived in nomadic tents, as no dwellings can be found in the city. Petra is on basically every list of significant historical sights and if it had been better known by the Romans, probably would have been considered one of the Seven Ancient Wonders as well.
While the terrain of most of the city is flat, the heat during the day is beyond imagination. We started very early, but by the time we finished at 3pm we were completely knocked out, even after I'd been acclimatized to heat from a month in Africa. Definitely one place where you need to set your plans based on the progress of the sun. Our Lonely Planet described how you could get away from the crowds and climb to the top of the cliffs, so I set out to find us a pair of donkeys.
I think the heat got to my well developed bargaining skills, because in my eagerness to see it all I somehow agreed to an overpriced donkey ride that would take up the the morning and early afternoon of our second day touring the city. Never having ridden on a donkey before, I was a bit nervous about having one navigate the steep stone steps with my life in its hands. And we were only slightly relieved when our guide told us the names of our donkeys - Michael Jackson (mine) and Monica Lewinksi (Patricia's). Luckily for me, Michael was slow and steady, but Monica kept trying to race to the finish, much to her dismay. To Patricia's credit, she never panicked and we were rewarded with stunning views of the desert city that we would never have found on our own weary feet. For any aspiring photographer, Petra is a gold mine, one of the few times I felt that my little Canon camera didn't even come close to doing it justice.
As our asses clamored down the narrow steps in the severe early afternoon sun, I hoped memories of the heat and our exhaustion would fade and this experience of a lifetime would keep a positive spin. It has.
Plus, now Patricia can brag that she has survived a wild ride through the desert on Monica Lewinski.
2 comments:
gah. GAH! gah. Speaking as one who just rode a Mule down into the Grand Canyon, I feel for you.
hehe, thanks! yeah it was rough but we survived. a mule down into the grand canyon sounds like an adventure too! did your mule have a name? did you know mules are sterile because they are a cross-breed of a donkey and a horse? I learned that on my safari. same story for a liger!
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