Jordan Adventure - Chapter 2
Seven o’clock sharp Radwan was in front of my hotel as I stepped to the curb and we were off. We chatted. Despite his limited English and that of the other men of the prior evening, it is amazing how communication just happens. We talked politics, religion, and family matters. We wondered about the role of the USA in the middle east and “what about Iraq and Iran?” Jordan shares a border with Iraq and the highway we were travelling led to Bagdad.
Shortly after 9: am we arrived in the town of Petra which thrives because of a burgeoning tourist destination, the ancient city of Petra made famous by Indian Jones film footage. Petra is absolutely breathtaking. It was a lost city until 1812. The Nabataeans were clever and practical people who flourished 2200 years ago. Most impressive is the 1200 metres long, deep and narrow gorge of stunning natural beauty. It leads the visitor to the entrance of Petra called the “Siq.” hemmed in by 80 metre cliffs. One gets to see bizarre-looking geological features and formations and colourful rocks. Carved into the rock faces are tombs and places of worship and sacrifice, and the pride and joy of Petra “The Treasury,” perhaps a tomb or a temple. Petra is one truly amazing place. It stretches on for some three or four kilometres.
A place I thought might be interesting to see was the “High Place of Sacrifice.” It is accessible after a hard mountain climb. I thought a donkey would do the trick so I hired one. Up we started, up, up, up. Some of the pathway was of steps carved into the bedrock of the mountain. No guard rails or warning signs. Just up. Several times I simply closed my eyes. At one point the donkey appeared to run out of pathway and there was nothing but a shear drop before us both. The donkey stepped tight to the rock face, pressed its nose tight to the rock, pivoted its four feet 180 degrees and continued up. I am glad to be a man of prayer. The High Place of Sacrifice was well worth the climb. It is well preserved and provided a spectacular view of Petra down below.
I was told it is much too dangerous to ride the donkey down.... so I made my own way back to the “Siq” far below. There a man on horseback wanted me to hire his horse to take me to the entrance and thus end my visit the “right” way. I thanked him with what I thought was a firm “No.” Yet, he persisted. A distraction that proved unhelpful as I became wedged between two horses that towered above me. His and one that approached from behind. The latter decided to express its displeasure. Did you know horses can kick to the side? This one caught me on the left shin with its hind right hoof. That “put a hurtin’ on me.” I hobbled my way to the entrance where I met my driver Radwan and we were off for Wadi Rumm.
I asked my driver, Radwan what we would do in Wadi Rumm. He told me “he had a friend.” How many times have I heard that in the past three months?! He described his friend as a “small man.” I wondered what that meant. As we neared Wadi Rumm he explained that it was best left to the Bedouin people to do the escorting in the desert. They know the desert. They have lived in the desert for thousands of years. They are traditionally a nomadic people, shepherds, and experienced with guiding and camels. Some say they are thieves and are not to be trusted. Radwan says they are a lovely people... just very poor.
As we neared Wadi Rumm we were met by a white Toyota pickup which pulled to the side of the road. While the term “small” did apply to his stature it also applied to his age. I asked Radwan just how old was his friend. Through is laugh his said “Maybe fifteen.” Fifteen... I didn’t think so. I would have bet the boy still had puberty well off in his future. The “small man” greeted his older friend enthusiastically by bounding out of his Toyota and over to our Landrover offering the traditional three kisses. I was introduced to this curious “small man,” Khalav.
Shortly after 9: am we arrived in the town of Petra which thrives because of a burgeoning tourist destination, the ancient city of Petra made famous by Indian Jones film footage. Petra is absolutely breathtaking. It was a lost city until 1812. The Nabataeans were clever and practical people who flourished 2200 years ago. Most impressive is the 1200 metres long, deep and narrow gorge of stunning natural beauty. It leads the visitor to the entrance of Petra called the “Siq.” hemmed in by 80 metre cliffs. One gets to see bizarre-looking geological features and formations and colourful rocks. Carved into the rock faces are tombs and places of worship and sacrifice, and the pride and joy of Petra “The Treasury,” perhaps a tomb or a temple. Petra is one truly amazing place. It stretches on for some three or four kilometres.
A place I thought might be interesting to see was the “High Place of Sacrifice.” It is accessible after a hard mountain climb. I thought a donkey would do the trick so I hired one. Up we started, up, up, up. Some of the pathway was of steps carved into the bedrock of the mountain. No guard rails or warning signs. Just up. Several times I simply closed my eyes. At one point the donkey appeared to run out of pathway and there was nothing but a shear drop before us both. The donkey stepped tight to the rock face, pressed its nose tight to the rock, pivoted its four feet 180 degrees and continued up. I am glad to be a man of prayer. The High Place of Sacrifice was well worth the climb. It is well preserved and provided a spectacular view of Petra down below.
I was told it is much too dangerous to ride the donkey down.... so I made my own way back to the “Siq” far below. There a man on horseback wanted me to hire his horse to take me to the entrance and thus end my visit the “right” way. I thanked him with what I thought was a firm “No.” Yet, he persisted. A distraction that proved unhelpful as I became wedged between two horses that towered above me. His and one that approached from behind. The latter decided to express its displeasure. Did you know horses can kick to the side? This one caught me on the left shin with its hind right hoof. That “put a hurtin’ on me.” I hobbled my way to the entrance where I met my driver Radwan and we were off for Wadi Rumm.
I asked my driver, Radwan what we would do in Wadi Rumm. He told me “he had a friend.” How many times have I heard that in the past three months?! He described his friend as a “small man.” I wondered what that meant. As we neared Wadi Rumm he explained that it was best left to the Bedouin people to do the escorting in the desert. They know the desert. They have lived in the desert for thousands of years. They are traditionally a nomadic people, shepherds, and experienced with guiding and camels. Some say they are thieves and are not to be trusted. Radwan says they are a lovely people... just very poor.
As we neared Wadi Rumm we were met by a white Toyota pickup which pulled to the side of the road. While the term “small” did apply to his stature it also applied to his age. I asked Radwan just how old was his friend. Through is laugh his said “Maybe fifteen.” Fifteen... I didn’t think so. I would have bet the boy still had puberty well off in his future. The “small man” greeted his older friend enthusiastically by bounding out of his Toyota and over to our Landrover offering the traditional three kisses. I was introduced to this curious “small man,” Khalav.
posted by Philip | 1:13 p.m.
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