After a fabulous first day and a half in Jordan, I hired a private taxi to take me to Petra, which is 3 hours to the south of Amman. I had heard from a number of people that Petra is amazing and that when in Jordan it is a must, so I figured... why not? My driver, Wael, was fantastic... he spoke English fluently and was a joy to talk to. He dropped me at the entrance to Petra at around 10:30 and I was off. The first mile and a half of the walk is a narrow descent called the "siq." At every turn the local Bedouins ask if you would like to ride their horse or horse carriage as the walk can be quite tiring. I told me self that I was going to suck it up and not give in to their offerings. I can't even explain how beautiful it was to be walking along this old ancient passageway -- beautiful in every way except for the copious amounts of tour groups full of teenagers.
After a 20 minute walk I turned the corner and there the famous "Treasury" stood in a wide open area. From there you are forced to go to the right and descend further in. All along the way there are tombs and houses carved into the cliffsides. Eventually I came to the ampitheatre, which is said to be on its way to holding performances after being closed for thousands of years. I continued along the main path but at some point climbed a hill to get a better view of things.
It was at this point that I met a Bedouin boy by the name of Khalled (however he told me to call him Shams -- which is the Arabic word for "sun"). Shams owns two donkeys, Suzannah and Zuzu, which he uses to make money at Petra. Shams and I quickly became friends and he asked if I wanted some Bedouin tea. I couldn't decline so he took me around to one of the tombs where we could get some tea. It seems the women who are normally there were not, so he decided to take me to a path to get back to the entrance. Along the way he somehow managed to convince to get on his donkey. I admit that I was a little apprehensive, but Shams assured me that I would be fine. I was riding along and all of a sudden Shams decided to hop on the donkey and join me. So along the path I went on a bedouin donkey with a bedouin boy. Before I headed down the narrow, rarely used path that would take me back to the entrance, I sat down and had some tea with a local bedouin lady, her young daughter, a sleeping infant, and about 3-4 little bedouin boys. They were all so captivating with their honey-colored eyes and their radiant smiles. I felt like I wanted to stay forever, but alas I could not.
I started headed along the path that would take me to the entrance. At first I thought that I was crazy because I ended up basically having to become a rock climber to maneuver the difficult path and within the first 5 minutes I nearly turned around. However, when I spotted one other hiker coming the opposite way I figured that I must be headed in the right direction so I kept on trekking. After about 45 minutes or so I spotted the main path. After I climbed the rocks I met a bedouin man by the name of Uthman and his brother Hamza. They both owned horses and worked at Petra for a living. I was invited to have some more tea with them and with pleasure I accepted. They took me to their "father's" cave where I saw an older gentleman laying on a bed. He woke up and invited me to come inside where he proceeded to make us tea. According to Hamza, Muhammed has the cave as a place where the bedouin workers can come and get something to eat and drink while they rest. Muhammed was lovely and again knew English like the others. I thanked my new friends and said goodbye to them and the surreal place that is Petra.
After a fabulous first day and a half in Jordan, I hired a private taxi to take me to Petra, which is 3 hours to the south of Amman. I had heard from a number of people that Petra is amazing and that when in Jordan it is a must, so I figured... why not? My driver, Wael, was fantastic... he spoke English fluently and was a joy to talk to. He dropped me at the entrance to Petra at around 10:30 and I was off. The first mile and a half of the walk is a narrow descent called the "siq." At every turn the local Bedouins ask if you would like to ride their horse or horse carriage as the walk can be quite tiring. I told me self that I was going to suck it up and not give in to their offerings. I can't even explain how beautiful it was to be walking along this old ancient passageway -- beautiful in every way except for the copious amounts of tour groups full of teenagers. 