In which Roz and Layla prove themselves to be speedy hikers, and walk in an explorer's footsteps at Petra

By Roz

We awoke in Dana to a freezing room and a freezing shower.  Alas.  Over breakfast, the hotel manager tried to dissuade us (not for the first time) from going ahead with our 16km hike.  I couldn’t quite work out whether his lack of enthusiasm for us doing this particular hike was because (a) he thought we looked weedy (b) he wanted us to do a guided hike with his wee friend or (c) it really was a dreadful idea.  I hoped for vehemently that it was (b)…  To be fair, as we set off on the hike, the winds were extraordinary.  So vigorous that Layla and I both had to brace ourselves when gusts came to avoid being blown over.  Maybe this was a dreadful idea, I thought…

Of course, it wasn’t a dreadful idea.  After 2km steeply downhill – in some ways aided and in some ways hindered by the wind – we were in the depths of a canyon.  Huge and majestic, it felt as though we stepped into another world - all the more so since we were alone the whole way other than a few Bedouin and a group of three cheery hikers going in the other direction.  The path twisted and turned and at a few points we were uncertain of the way and set off determinedly one way only to realise that this was definitely the wrong way a few minutes later.  We stopped a couple of times for a break and at one point had tea with three Bedouin young women.  Intriguingly, though very definitely a unit of some sort, they turned out not to be sisters.  Since there was no sign of husbands or children, I hoped to myself we had encountered a tiny lesbian enclave…

Just as we were beginning to flag, we started to encounter more Bedouin tents and saw a large building in the distance.  Layla reminded me that one of the descriptions of the route had mentioned that the canyon / wadi didn’t finish where you expected it to, and so this wasn’t going to be the end.  I indignantly told her that I was more than aware of this.  And so we waved cheerily at the Bedouins and then proceeded to walk past the building.  Until one of us suggested that it might be worth taking a look at the building to find out what it was “just in case”.  Amusingly it turned out to be our destination – an ecolodge where we were to be picked up and taken on to Petra.  We were, unaccountably, an hour early, having apparently walked faster than every other hiker on the route. However, the sofas in the deserted ecolodge looked inviting and the hotel staff gave us drinks and showed us truly amazing pictures of the moon and Jupiter which they’d taken from their telescope.  (I’d have been happy reading my book but looking at craters on the moon was definitely a spectacular alternative.)  Our very nice driver turned up, immensely surprised to see us there (“no-one does it in five hours…”, he said as we looked smug and tried to look as if this was the kind of thing one would expect from the McCampion clan) and shortly afterwards we set off. 

The drive turned out to be more interesting than I expected.  At first, we were more or less driving through desert – very scenic, and intriguing to drive alongside a waterpipe with a few leaks in it which had created a narrow oasis-type strip of greenery and tomato-growing in the otherwise barren landscape.  Then a tarmac road appeared – the first time I’ve seen a road have such a definite end / beginning (depending on your perspective).  We then proceeded to take a short cut, which turned out to be on a road that was still being made.  This was terrifying / fun (again which it was depends on your perspective).  I’m confident that our driver found it terrifying but on the plus side the men who were making the road were very cheery about having to push our car over the rocks that were to become the road to get us over the worst of it as we teetered on the edge of a cliff…  And then, as we approached Petra, there was the most beautiful sunset I’ve ever seen.  The sky was pink and the clouds looked magical.  It felt as though aliens were liable to descend from the sky at any moment.

Our hotel turned out to be less than excellent (sigh) in a far away location.  So our best option was to put down our bags, grab a taxi, and head straight into Petra proper for a much-deserved evening drink with our books.  We went to the rather excellent Cave Bar (which is in a 2000 year old cave) and I delighted in reading a slightly sci-fi novel about Antarctic exploration whilst we were on a holiday that felt like it was going over the ground trod by very remarkable explorers in the past.  We left the bar, looking at the entrance to Petra as we passed with glee, and then headed up the hill to a perfectly delicious Jordanian dinner.  And then got a taxi home. 

Next morning we were up early (Layla earlier than she wanted, due to a Mosque being right next to our bedroom) and after a slightly peculiar breakfast (I like orange squash as much as the next person, but not usually for breakfast…) were en route to Petra. When Layla and I were devising this holiday, I’d lobbied we go to Jordan for lots of reasons, but mainly I think because it was a place I remember my mother (who died about a year ago) going when she was my sort of age and loving.  And Petra and Wadi Rum were the places in Jordan she talked about most often – she’d been enchanted by the pink rocks and sand and by the romance of both places.  I was equally enchanted.  Petra is just remarkable: an ancient city carved out of and into rose red rock cliffs.  You enter the city through something called the Siq – huge tall cliffs on both sides of you create a passageway that is a metre or two wide.  It’s both gloomy and mysterious and it is brilliant to imagine the Swiss explorer who “discovered” Petra disguised as a Bedouin to gain access to this mythic place, making his way through the passage, unsure what he’d find on the other side.  You eventually pop out at the Treasury, a massive, delicate façade carved into Petra’s red rock face.  Possibly sacrilegiously I thought it had a lot in common with the US Treasury.  There are huge columns and thinking about the negative space (as my guidebook put it – in other words, thinking about all that was carved away) is astonishing.  To appreciate the whole thing (i.e. rest our legs that were reminding us vigorously that they’d walked 16km the day before) we sat down in a cheery café and had freshly squeezed orange juice. 

There weren’t many people in Petra (which was of course great for us, though somewhat surprising) but nonetheless we decided to go slightly off grid and so began a hike up to “the High Place” – a place of sacrifice (which is not ill named as our legs were keen to emphasise).  From here, we hiked through the ruins, past a terrific carving of a lion (which had once been a fountain) and by caves and small temples.  We took a short rest in one temple and befriended an entirely delightful cat.  Continuing on, we were dismayed when it began to rain.  We took shelter in a mini cave and somewhat incongruously began to read our books.  This proved entirely delightful – there’s nothing so cheery as reading something brilliant in an amazing place – and in some ways we were somewhat disappointed when it stopped raining.  We eventually headed back to Petra “city centre” (i.e. the ancient street which most tourists stick to) and had lunch.  After lunch, we walked back through the main street, delighting in the fact that – like Jerash, where we’d been a few days before – you could imagine ancient people going about their daily lives, popping into the theatre and so forth. 

We were eventually back at the Treasury and beginning to flag (unsurprisingly since it was late afternoon by this time).  So we decided to head back through the Siq and to our hotel for a brief rest and shower.  Fortified, we headed out to the Cave Bar once again before dinner.  Dinner was in fact going to be more exciting than usual, since we’d signed up to do a cooking class (the idea being that you learn to make Jordanian food and then cook it and have it for dinner).  This was super fun, though Layla was quick to point out (just to me) that the lentil soup recipe was pretty much the same as her mother’s…  There was a fun mix of people though I was intrigued to meet several (Western) men who’d never actually cooked before and thus were at a loss as to how to chop a vegetable…  Dinner was delicious and we congratulated ourselves on another excellent day in Jordan. 

Next morning, things looked a little less bright.  The weather forecast was awful – rain all day and the next – and there was a ton of mist making visibility rotten.  We decided to skip the hotel breakfast and went in search of something better.  We were foiled in this aspiration and as the rain poured down, I decided to shake things up a bit by suggesting that we consider leaving Petra at lunchtime and bring all our plans forward by a day and chase the sun.  Layla looked astonished by such a radical plan but in the end we decided to do so.  It took a bit of phaffing to execute this, but by 10.15 we were back at the gates of Petra with a plan to make this second visit our last.  Then, two strokes of luck:  Layla spotted a café with a proper coffee machine and I had my first coffee for days (hooray – I’d just been wondering whether to force myself to start liking Turkish coffee or Nescafe…) and there was a break in the weather.  So we walked through the Siq very happily, marvelled again at the Treasury and then had a proper explore of the main street. We then headed back to our hotel to blow their minds with our early check-out.  Next stop, Wadi Rum!