Wadi Rum: Jordan Part 5

The Playground of Lawrence of Arabia - and Mat Damon

Jordan

After K had dropped our cases at the hotel on Friday he had gone home to Amman. He was returning this morning to pick us up at 10.30.

The Petra Museum

After a couple of hard(ish) days, we might have had a lie-in but the Petra museum was only a short stroll from our hotel and we wanted to see it before we left.

We arrived before 9, early enough to be almost the only visitors. Opened by Crown Prince Hussein in April 2019, the Japanese financed museum is purpose built to show off the magnificent collection. Everything is well presented and labelled but for me, it was all too sanitised. It is a modern, big city museum and would be perfect in Tokyo or New York where the artefacts were already out of context, but does not feel quite right when their hot, dusty origins are just outside. Maybe I am criticising the museum for being too professional – there is no pleasing some people.

The Petra Museum, Wadi Musa

We were relaxing in the hotel’s outdoor coffee shop when K arrived to drive us south to Wadi Rum.

From Wadi Musa (Petra) south to Wadi Rum

Wadi Musa to Wadi Rum

We climbed out of Wadi Musa...

Leaving Wadi Musa

…hitting a patch of dense mist, which ended as suddenly as it started.

A small but dense patch of mist in the desert

Beyond all was clear, but the higher we went the windier it became. When we stopped at a resthouse the wind whipped the car door from my hands; fortunately, there was nothing for it to hit.

K wanted his breakfast, and as it was now 11 o'clock our breakfast had been some hours ago, so we joined in. This was not a tourist place, dishes of jam, honey, ful, falafel and other goodies covered with cling film were set out on a communal table and for a set price you peeled it back, picked your flatbread from a basket and dipped in. We enjoyed it and as we would have no lunch – not that we knew that at the time – it would be needed.

Outside the wind had moderated a little and we were able to appreciate the desert view behind the rest house without being blown away.

View behind the resthouse on the Desert Highway

As we continued south K told us about his trip home. His wife, he said had been unwell, but was feeling better. They have four children, their oldest daughter is away at university, the younger three are at school. Although now Jordanian, K is by birth Palestinian. I do not know if that limited his educational opportunities, but he is ensuring the next generation make the most of their chances. Women are more visible in Jordan than elsewhere in the region, but even so I was pleased that he is keen to educate the girls as well as the boys. He and his brothers are also helping their recently widowed sister, K has taken special responsibility for her youngest and he was keen to show us pictures of the little boy.

The Desert Highway runs for 350km from Amman to the Saudi border, and apart from our detour via Shobak and Petra, we had followed it all the way. Some 40km short of Aqaba and the Red Sea we turned off towards Wadi Rum.

Towards Wadi Rum

Into Wadi Rum

We checked in at the visitor centre. Every person, every vehicle, every domesticated animal that enters the Wadi Rum Protected Area is logged and the appropriate fee paid.

Once this was done, we headed into the desert. Wadi Rum, the largest wadi in Jordan, is a valley cut by water through sandstone and granite hills. There is still water here, the many wells and springs have supported a local population since prehistoric times.

Into Wadi Rum

Lawrence of Arabia (the 1962 film, not the man) put Wadi Rum firmly on the tourist map, but it is not just a film location, much of the real action also took place here. The Protected Area is tightly controlled to provide revenue for the Jordanian government, to maintain the area for future exploitation, and to protect its unique environment. There is, of course, tension between these goals and there is no significance in the order of my list. We passed several desert camps while driving to our own, and over a dozen more are secreted in rocky corners elsewhere. Maybe there are too many.

Wadi Rum is also known as Wadi al-Qamar (Valley of the Moon) and there is a space theme among the various tourist camps. Ours was actuallly called ‘Space Camp’ though the accommodation was in cabins decked out to vaguely resemble Bedouin tents…

Space Camp, Wadi Rum

Inside our 'tent' Wadi Rum

We had a look round and settled in. Tea and coffee were available in reception – a big tent at the end - but there was no sign of lunch. Fortunately, we had enjoyed a second breakfast, so that was all right - and they were promising a special dinner in the evening.

Touring Wadi Rum

It was not long before a young man turned up in a pick-up truck with our name on it – figuratively, I am not really Mr Toyota - you think I would be bouncing round in the back of one of those if I was?

In our pick-up truck, Wadi Rum

We set off into the red, sandy emptiness of Wadi Rum. Of the three possible derivations of the name the least likely is that it was the site of Iram of the Pillars, a legendary lost city that receives a fleeting mention in the Quran. The ruins at Shisr, a village on the edge of the Empty Quarter in Oman have also been touted by some (particularly the local tourist authorities) as Iram of the Pillars. We visited last year and I am sceptical about that, too. Possibly ‘Rum’ derives from an Arabic word for ‘wind-blown sand’, but my favourite is that it refers to the Romans – ‘Rum’ and ‘Rumi’ often do in the Arabic and Indian worlds. They were certainly here, and commented on the vineyards – those seem to have disappeared!

Wadi Rum

The Martian

I would have been happy just to drive around the valley, but we were in the hands of the tourist industry, and they have to show you ‘sights’, it is in the job description. For the first ‘sight’ we climbed onto a smallish outcrop. It was, undoubtedly, a magnificent view. The guide seemed to expect more, ‘Martian..’ he prompted. I agreed it resembled Mars, reddish and with the tracks of the Mars Rover all over it. ‘The film…’ he went on. ‘What film?’ ‘The Martian, with Matt Damon.’ I am not totally ignorant; I have heard of a film called ‘The Martian’ and of an actor called Matt Damon but I have never seen either. ‘It was filmed here,’ he said. Perhaps I should have looked more impressed.

A view of Mars, Wadi Rum

We continued making tracks in the sand. From a distance we saw a couple crossing the desert the hard way. Not being a film fan makes you out of touch, not old-fashioned, but is it old fashioned to feel uncomfortable seeing a lightly laden young man marching along with his girlfriend/partner/travelling companion struggling behind with a full pack? Maybe there was a reason, I should not judge.

Following a gentleman across the desert, Wadi Rum

The Seven Pillars of Wisdom

A rock formation known as ‘Jabal al-Mazmar’ (Mountain of the Plague) was renamed The Seven Pillars of Wisdom in the 1980s, after Lawrence of Arabia’s book. The renaming was for touristic purposes, Lawrence had no known association with these rocks, but if I was the rocks I would happily forego the ‘plague’ tag. I cannot see seven (maybe from another angle, though this is the side always photographed) and ‘pillars’ is not the first object to come to mind, but they are quite a sight. The 500 million-year-old ‘pillars’ of Palaeozoic quartz sandstone perch on a 4.6 billion-year-old pre-Cambrian granitoid base.

The Seven Pillars of Wisdom, Wadi Rum

Lawrence’s book has appeared in several versions, edited down by himself or others from the original unreadable 400,000 word manuscript. American Academic Charles Hill called it "a novel traveling under the cover of autobiography," Winston Churchill wrote "It ranks with the greatest books ever written in the English language. As a narrative of war and adventure it is unsurpassable." It remains in print (there is a Kindle edition at £0.49) but I am not sure it is much read.

Not Climbing a Dune

Continuing down the valley we pulled up beside several other trucks below what looked like a dune with a view. The passengers from the other trucks were begining their descent, so we set off towards them.

The lower part was steep. In the photograph below it can be seen to drop sharply away just beyond me, and the vehicles are some distance below.

Climbing a rocky outcrop, Wadi Rum. There is a great big clue staring me in the face.

That did not matter; we have climbed dunes before and know that it is best done in bare feet.  The sand was firm which made the steep section easy and we progressed to the top without difficulty. Only when we reached the summit did we realise we had not been climbing a dune – there ae no dunes round here – but a rocky outcrop. On sand, bare feet work well, on a dome of hard rock with sharp ridges and a scattering of stones it is a painfully different story.

The views, though, were as good as we had expected. Wishing she had carried her shoes with her, Lynne gingerly worked her way over to a spot for a photograph….

Lynne on the top of the outcrop, Wadi Rum

….and then we put the camera on a rock for a different view, partly obscured by both of us. …

Obscuring the view. Wadi Rum. Hopping across that stretch of rock before the little light on the camera went off was a challenge

…and then one down the valley. In none of these pictures is there a single dune. Why had we not noticed before setting off?

Looking down Wadi Rum from the top of the outcrop

Nabataean Petroglyphs

A ten-minute drive…

Through Wadi Rum

….through stunning scenery…

Through Wadi Rum

…brought us to a rock face scratched with the images of camels and hunting scenes. Hitherto, apart from the two trucks at the outcrop, we had been on our own, here we encountered the crowds. There are selfish people who climb onto a boulder and painstakingly photograph minute areas of rock in great close up, thus depriving everyone else of a view. Most, though are more reasonable and we eventually had a good look at both areas of drawings at this site. There are said to be 25,000 petroglyphs in Wadi Rum, but counting scratches on a rock face leaves much to interpretation. I think these are Nabataean, they were responsible for most glyphs in the wadi, though some are later, the work of Bedouins.

Nabataean Petroglyphs, Wadi Rum

There is clearly some writing on one area in what is known as Thamudic – a catch-all name for a variety of so far undeciphered scripts found throughout the Arabian region. Elsewhere there are inscription in Kufic, an early Arabic script.

Nabataean petroglyphs with Thamudic inscriptions, Wadi Rum

Barrah Siq and TE Lawrence

Another short journey took us towards Barrah Siq. The sight of two Bedouins leading camels through the desert still manages to be exciting, even when you know they are going to give rides to tourists.

Bedouin leading camels through Wadi Rum

The entrance to the narrow siq is another place where tourists congregate. Allegedly this is where TE Lawrence first met Prince Abdullah, the son of Hussein the Sharif of Mecca. Both appear in rock carvings. Neither are of high quality though Prince Abdullah might have looked something like this...

Prince Abdullah

... while photographs of Lawrence show that he was no Peter O’Toole, but neither was he a moon-faced schoolboy.

TE Lawrence, Barrah Siq, Wadi Rum

The real purpose of the effigies is to drag in the tourists and their money, because behind them are the souvenir sellers and coffee stalls.

The Ottoman Empire entered the First World War on the side of the Central Powers in October 1914. To prevent moves against the Persian oil fields and the Suez Canal, the British and French plotted to turn Arab unrest in the Ottoman south into open revolt. In a series of letters between July 1915 and March 1916 the British and Hussein bin Ali, Sharif of Mecca agreed that Hussein would lead a revolt, bankrolled by Britain and France and aided by the British Egyptian Expeditionary Force. Once it was successful the allies would support the creation of an independent Arab state stretching from Damascus to Yemen.

TE Lawrence, near Jeddah 1917
(photo in Public Domain)

Dozens of British and French officers, including TE Lawrence, were dispatched to liaise with the Arab forces. They fought successfully alongside Hussein’s sons Ali, Abdullah and Faizal.

British history books, at least up to the mid-60s (i.e. the ones I read as I child) presented Lawrence as single-handedly leading the Arab revolt, the subtext being that any group of people can achieve anything provided they are led by an Oxford educated, fair-skinned English gentleman (even if Lawrence’s background was not quite as conventional as we were allowed to assume).

Abdullah when King of Jordan
Photo by Cecil Beaton (in Public domain)

The ludicrous hype of the Lawrence story has obscured the reality of his achievements. He was an academic archaeologist who knew the area well before the war, spoke good Arabic and developed an excellent working relationship with Prince Faizal, Hussain’s eldest son. He was a remarkably effective officer, but not the only one - and he was not superman.

Unfortunately for Lawrence’s reputation among the Arabs, the British and French double-crossed them. The 1916 Sykes-Picot agreement had already carved the region into a series of British and French protectorates, there would be no pan-Arab state.

King Abdulla II of Jordan
Photo from Wikipedia

Hussein’s sons at first did well from the post war arrangements, but none of them prospered for long. Ali succeeded his father as Sharif of Mecca in 1925, but was deposed after 3 months by Ibn Saud who was busy creating Saudi Arabia. Faisal become King of Iraq but died ostensibly of a ‘heart attack’ in 1933. He was succeeded by his son, who died in a mysterious road ‘accident’, and then his grandson who was murdered in the 1958 military coup. Abdullah did best, becoming King of Jordan, but he was assassinated in 1951. He was succeeded briefly by his son Talal who abdicated, grandson Hussein and then great-grandson who has been King Abdullah II since 1999.

Sunset in Wadi Rum

All such tours must end with the sun setting into the desert. Of course, there are chosen places for this and we lined up with the rest. Too often we have watched the sun subside into a low band of cloud, but not this time.

Sunset, Wadi Rum

Having lost my bearings in the desert, I was surprised to find we were watching the sunset from the ridge beside our camp.

Space Camp, Wadi Rum

When we got back it rained, not hard and not for long…

Rain in the desert, Wadi Rum

… but a definite shower. I was shocked, but have since discovered that rain in November is not as rare here as I thought.

Dinner in Wadi Rum

The rain had gone by the time we went to watch our dinner being disinterred.

Disinterring our dinner, Wadi Rum

A traditional Bedouin zarb is cooked in an underground oven called a taboon.

Extracting the zarb from the taboon, Wadi Rum

The heavily bearded and well-fed master of ceremonies explained that the vegetables had been cooked above the meat, so vegetarians could be confident they had not been contaminated.

Zarb dinner, Wadi Rum

All was arranged as a buffet and the camp residents were invited to eat. I would like to say how good it was, but sadly it wasn’t. None of the vegetables were peeled - picking baked onion from its brown, papery outer layer is not a pleasure – and they had all taken on a woolly texture. The meat was bland, too. It would have been better if the meat had been above the veg and the juices allowed to drip through (and maybe this is the traditional way), but vegetarians would then go hungry. This problem has no obvious solution.

Jordan

Part 1: Amman

Part 2: Ajloun and Jerash
Part 3: Shobak Castle and the Back Trail to Petra
Part 4: Petra
Part 5: Wadi Rum

Part 6: Swimming in the Dead Sea

THE END

Petra: Jordan Part 4

Jordan

Up early, showered and breakfasted, we met Ali outside our hotel at 7, as agreed. The wrought iron gates marking the entrance to Petra were a short walk away. Beyond is an area of restaurants and tourist shops, and a ticket office with, at this hour, only a short queue.

Wadi Musa to the Siq

Armed with tickets we passed through the barrier but still had the best part of a kilometre to walk to the siq, the footpath running alongside a track for horses. About half way are the Djinn Blocks, one of which can be seen behind me, below.

The path to the siq, with one of the Djinn Blocks behind us - though Ali and I seem to have found something else to look at!

Three sit beside the track and 23 more are dotted around the site. They were built by the Nabataeans in the 1st century CE and may ‘represent the starts of tombs or were associated with funerary dedications or the worship of water and fertility’ (Lonely Planet), a long way of saying that nobody really knows.

Another of the Djinn Blocks on the way to the siq, Petra

A little further on, the Obelisk Tomb dates from the 1st century BCE. The badly eroded figure hollowed out between the two central obelisks (largely hidden in my picture) and the obelisks themselves may represent the five people buried here. Beneath is a much older triclinium, the site of annual feasts to honour the dead.

The Obelisk Tomb on the way to the siq, Petra

The Siq

Eventually we reached the entrance to the siq.

Entrance to the siq, Petra

‘Siq’ is usually translated as ‘canyon’, i.e. a gorge carved out by running water, but the 1.2km defile at Petra is actually a fissure in a single block of stone caused by tectonic forces. I struggle to imagine forces so mighty they could create a 200m deep crack of such length.

The siq, 1.2 km long, 200m deep and of varying widths, Petra

The Nabataeans, the builders of Petra, were an Arab people who emerged in the 4th century BCE and dominated the Northern Arabia/Southern Levant area from the Red Sea to the Euphrates. With no defined borders they controlled a trading network centred on strings of fertile oases. Their capital, if they had one, is assumed to have been Petra – known to them as Raqmu.

Water management is always a problem in the a desert, there is usually too little, but narrow valleys can suffer devasting flash floods. The Nabataeans were a sophisticated and practical people; we entered the siq over a modern dam, built over an ancient dam controlling Wadi Musa, and a water supply for the city was channelled along both walls.

The channel on the left hand wall is obvious here, in places the channels have been bored through the rock, the siq, Petra

The siq provides a dramatic approach to the city and the Nabataeans quickly saw its potential as a religious and ceremonial entrance. It is believed they had a full pantheon of gods, and imported a few foreign deities like Isis and Dionysis, but their portrayal of gods was schematic to say the least. Betyls – carved blocks of stone representing gods – appear in niches….

The god is a rectangular block of stone in a niche in the wall of the siq, Petra

…or are larger and free-standing. Sometimes, though not here, there is a minimalist representation of a face.

Nabataean betyl, large god on the left, smaller one on the right, the siq, Petra

More representational carvings were made, particularly after The Romans arrived around 106 CE and Raqmu found itself the capital of the Roman province of Arabia Petraea. A group of badly eroded figures decorate the wall of the siq, the lower half of one body is clear, of the others only the feet remain. The photograph of the carvings, below, also shows a remarkable inclusion in the rock face making it appear like two photos spliced together.

Badly eroded statues, and an inclusion in the rock, the siq, Petra

The siq has been dug out to approximately original levels, towards the end the ancient flooring remains in situ, though whether it is pre or post-Roman seems a matter of debate.

Lynne on the 2,000 year old flagstone, the siq, Petra

Nearing the end we paused where Indiana Jones had raised his hat and brushed away some sweat before started his gallop along the siq (Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade)....

That Indiana Jones isn't what he was, the Siq, Petra

The Treasury and The Street of Façades

…before emerged onto the sandy square facing the Treasury. Like the Monastery yesterday, the ‘Treasury’ is a misnomer, it was the tomb of Aretas III, King of the Nabataeans 87-62 BCE. During his reign the kingdom reached its greatest extent, taking Damascus in 85 BCE.  Influenced by Greek culture - he styled himself Aretas Philhellen (Friend of the Greeks) - he had his name written in Greek instead of Nabatean Aramaic on his silver coins. His endeavours to bring Greek and Roman architectural styles to Petra were rewarded with a magnificent tomb in Hellenic style.

The Treasury, Petra

According to legend Pharaoh hid his treasure in the 3.5m high urn atop the façade while pursuing the Israelites, hence the ‘Treasury’. The Exodus, if it happened at all, occurred a thousand years before Petra was built, but some locals obviously believed the story - the urn is pockmarked with rifle shots.

Half a million people visit Petra each year, so the best way to extract
 'treasure' is to own a gift shop/café in a prime location

After the Romans withdrew, Petra was gradually forgotten by the outside world, though not by the locals who continued to live there (and did so until 1985 when the last inhabitants were moved from the archaeological site to the purpose built village of Uum Sayhoun).

The growing European interest in classical culture in the 17th century brought knowledge of the Roman province of Arabia Petraea and interest in the, possibly mythical, lost city of Petra. The first modern European to see the Treasury and then ride his donkey through the rest of the valley was the remarkble Jean Louis Burkhardt in 1812.

From the Treasury, the valley turns and widens into the outer siq along what is known as the Street of Façades. The low entrances show how much the ground has risen here from debris washed down by flash floods.

Street of Façades, Petra

There is nothing in any of these tombs; it is ironic that so much of what remains in a dead city is accommodation for the dead.

Tomb interior, Petra

At the end of the ‘street’…

Street of Façades, Petra

The Theatre, Petra

...we entered the main part of the valley past the theatre.

The theatre, Petra

 The original 3,000 seat theatre was built over 2000 years ago by the Nabataeans, who demolished several tombs in its construction. After Roman enlargemenst it could accommodate 8,500 (30% of Petra’s population). An orchestra section was carved from the rock, but the backdrop to the stage was built with columns and niches. Little of this exists, maybe it was victim to the destructive earthquake of 363. Today most of the theatre-goers appear to be sheep, probably arriving for a performance of As Ewe Like it.

Theatre, Petra with the sheepy audience filing in for the performance

Coffee Stop and the Nymphaeum

It would not yet be coffee time on a normal day, but after our early start coffee seemed appropriate. It was also appropriate to give a little custom to the man who had given us a lift yesterday in our hour of need.

Visiting the café of the man who helped us last night.

After a small, bracing Arab coffee we set off for the Colonnaded Street running through what was once the city centre, but became waylaid by a stall beside the Nymphaeum. A public fountain built in the 2nd century CE, there is little left of the Nymphaeum, but the shade-giving pistachio tree is believed to be 450 years old.

Next to the Nymphaeum, in the shade of a venerable pistacchio tree Lynne haggles over the price of Roman coins, Petra

Lynne found some coins she liked, and agreed on a price of 13JD (£14.50). We offered a 20JD note, but the stall-holder had no change. Ali could not help, but we had a 10 and two ones and offered her that. ‘1 dollar?’ she asked, as though every European tourist would have a dollar bill somewhere in their wallet. Fortunately, we had and the transaction was completed to mutual satisfaction. Maybe this was a tacit acceptance that the official exchange rate (1US$ = 0.70 JD) overvalues the Jordanian Dinar and maybe there exists a more realistic informal exchange rate – a black market, even.

We now had some gifts for our grandson. The smaller coin was badly worn, but there was enough on the larger one to identify it as coming from the reign of the Roman Emperor Constantius II (325-361 CE).

The Colonnaded Street

The Colonnaded Street was once the decumanus (the main east-west street) of Roman Petra - being in a valley, Petra never had a cardo maximus (main north-south street). Once impressive, the columns of marble clad sandstone are now largely stumps and the covered porticos that gave access to the shops lining the eastern end are gone, as has most of the Royal Palace that once faced them.

The Colonnaded Street, Petra

The 'Great Temple', a little further along was built in the 1st century BCE and may never actually have been a temple. Badly damaged by an earthquake soon after completion, its refurbished form was used as a royal audience hall by the Nabataeans and as a civic centre by the Romans.

The Great Temple, Petra

Beyond the temple, on the right of the picture above, is the Temenos Gateway, the entry to the sacred area of the Nabataean city centred on the Qasr Al Bint – the Palace of the Daughter. Whose daughter? Well, Pharaoh’s of course. She must have come with him chasing the Israelites and built herself a palace while he was hiding his treasure; surely Bedouin legend could have come up with a more credible story. Unlike the Great Temple, Qasr Al Bint really is a Nabataean temple. Built around 30 BCE and dedicated to all the gods, it was the main place of worship in Raqmu. The brick built sacrificial altar almost in the street was once covered with marble.

Qasr Al Bint, Petra

This was the end of the street and Ali’s work was over, so he left us to find our own way back. We realised how much we needed him when, after a brief walk round the Roman wall, we returned to the Temenos Gate and were arrested by two Nabataean guards – though they did not appear to be taking their job very seriously.

Two very ferocious Nabataean security guards, Petra

David Roberts and The Royal Tombs

David Roberts in
 his travelling gear

David Roberts back home
1844

A long road stretches from Jean Louis Burckhardt’s ‘discovery’ of Petra to the crowds of today. One of the earlier travellers on that road was David Roberts. Born near Edinburgh in 1796 he was an interior decorator, then painted backdrops for a circus, but his talent led him inexorably towards fine art. Encouraged by, among others JMW Turner, he established his reputation by travelling through Europe painting views of prominent buildings. His 1838-40 tour of the Middle East brought him to Petra and on returning home he worked with Louis Haghe turning his paintings into lithographs which he sold by subscription. As Queen Victoria was subscriber No 1, his success was guaranteed.

The four ‘Royal Tombs’ are across the valley from the theatre. They are, from left to right, the Palace, Corinthian, Silk and Urn Tombs, though like most names in Petra they mean little.

The four Royal Tombs, Petra

They sit on a shelf above the valley bottom, so my group photograph was unsatisfactory – though a 5m high gantry would have solved the problem. An artist like David Roberts has no such difficulties.

David Robert's view of the tombs, 1838

Close up it is surprising how little the Palace Tomb has changed in 170 years. An imitation of a Roman/Hellenistic palace, it has Petra’s largest rock-hewn façade, though the top left corner had to be built as the rock face was just too small.

The Palace Tomb, Petra

Climbing up to the shelf we paused to pick up some shards of pottery – the ground is covered with it – and put that with our Roman coins. Then I spotted a small unnaturally round stone and then another one. They were almost certainly slingshots so we put them in the bag, too, and our grandson’s present was complete.

Climbing up to the rock shelf, Royal Tombs, Petra

The Corinthian Tomb is badly damaged, it has Corinthian columns but above is of Nabataean design. It is being used as unofficial stabling for donkeys. The smaller Silk Tomb has an unadorned façade, but has typically Nabataean stepped ornamentation at the top – upwards for heaven, downwards for the other pace.

Step ornamentation, Silk Tomb, Petra

Its name comes from the patterned and coloured rock strata prevalent throughout the rocky shelf which somebody once thought resembled silk.

Interesting patterns in the rock, but not fooling me its silk, Royal Tombs, Petra

The Urn Tomb has an impressive approach, though I cannot see the ‘urn’ which gives it its name. It was built for King Aretas IV (8 BCE to 40 CE) or his successor Malichos II (40 to 70).

The Silk Tomb (left) and Urn Tomb (right)

We were now in need of refreshment; freshly squeezed pomegranate juice was sharp but thirst-quenching.

Crushing our pomegranates, Petra

John Burgon and the Rose Red City Half as Old as Time

The Rev John William Burgon

David Roberts’ lithographs made Petra an object of fascination for those who had swallowed the romantic myth of the orient. The 1845 Newdigate Poetry Prize was won by John Burgon's ‘Petra’. Most of Burgon’s poetry, indeed most of Petra's 370 lines of rhyming couplets have been largely forgotten, but 14 lines, extracted as a stand-alone sonnet are well known (see Poetry Atlas). The last line describing Petra as a ‘Rose-red city half as old time’, is among the most memorable lines in English poetry.

John Burgon seems to have been a strange man who lived a rather bloodless life; a theologian who never married he spent his whole working life at Oxford University and certainly never visited Petra. His primary interest was in disapproving of anyone who did not share his belief in the Bible as literal truth – he was what is now called a Young Earth Creationist. ‘Half as old as time’ sounds a romantic way of saying ‘very old’, but for Burgon it was a statement of fact (give or take a century or two). And the rocks of Petra may be reddish, but are not the colour of any rose I have ever seen.

The High Place of Sacrifice

Despite yesterday’s exertions we decided to make the climb up to the High Place of Sacrifice. Steps lead off from the Street of Façades climbing up a crack in the rock. The way is steep and views soon open up over the Street of Façades and the theatre.

The end of the Street of Façades and the theatre, Petra

Then the crack narrows and the steps find their way up through boulder-strewn sections….

The path to the High Place of Sacrifice picks its way round boulders, Petra

…where you can be ignored by the local wildlife.

Lizard sunning itself on the climb to the High Place of Sacrifice, Petra

After forty minutes climbing in the hot sun we were near the top of the cleft….

Nearing the top of the cleft, towards the High Place of Sacrifice, Petra

…but there is more work to do, signposts pointing the way over bare rock.

Towards the High Pace of Sacrifice, Petra

The altar and the High Place of Sacrifice are guarded by 6m high obelisks hewn from the stone – or rather vast quantities of stone were hewn from around them. There are also magnificent views over the whole city, or so I read; we never quite got there. Lynne was tired and let me do the final ascent on my own, but I am wary of heights and really cannot cope with a feeling of exposure. The rocky shelf behind me was too high and too airy and I wimped out, though I was almost there.

I'm all right until I reach the exposed top, not quite the High Place of Sacrifice, Petra

A long descent awaited us back down the cleft.

Back down the cleft to the valley, Petra

Reaching the valley, we popped into the nearest café and ordered a drink and a salami sandwich. It was very palatable, but as I do like to be a little pedantic, a slice of chicken-based processed meat is not ‘salami’ and rolling it in local flatbread does not make a ‘sandwich’.

Back to Wadi Musa

We had been on the go for seven hours, and still had an hour’s walk ahead of us, so we decided to call it a day.

My photos perhaps suggest that Petra was not particularly crowded, but we had been up early, kept ahead of the tide and when that was no longer possible, we wandered into some of the lesser visited corners. But when we returned to the Treasury, the sandy square was like Tescos on Saturday morning.

Walking down the siq resembled being in the crowd leaving a football match, except there were still people coming the other way, though they would see little beyond the treasury – the sun sets early here. Yesterday, Ali had told us, there had been a cruise ship in Aqaba and several thousand extra tourists had been bussed up from the Red Sea port.

Tourism kills the things it loves and Petra is in danger of being loved to death. Erosion of monuments by those who should not climb on them, erosion of the pathways by all of us and the damper atmosphere caused by thousands of sweating visitors are all problems. On the plus side there is now a proper drainage and sewerage system, expert restoration is being carried out and the site is almost completely litter free. It is worth seeing though, and preserving it unseen forever would be pointless.

Dinner in Wadi Musa

Having suffered the hotel buffet yesterday we took a short walk to the Sandstone restaurant which the Lonely Planet assured us sold beer. We had the place to ourselves but the food was good and traditionally Jordanian. I ate mansaf, the national dish of lamb in fermented dried yogurt served with rice; Lynne’s Musakhan was chicken roasted with onions, sumac, allspice, saffron, and pine nuts. It was the best meal we had in Jordan – not a great compliment, but a compliment none the less.

Dinner in Wadi Musa

And the beer? That is a can of alcohol free beer on the table, but they have had problems with neighbours and it was only for show, we each had a can of Amstel under the table.

Jordan

Part 1: Amman

Part 2: Ajloun and Jerash
Part 3: Shobak Castle and the Back Trail to Petra
Part 4: Petra
Part 5: Wadi Rum

Part 6: Swimming in the Dead Sea

THE END