Although I confess I was a bit reticent at first, we quickly discovered that it is totally acceptable to stray from the official path and clamber all over the ancient ruins. Other than the occasional Bedouin vendor or animal driver who wants to sell you a ride or a tour, nobody is paying any attention to what you do. We took advantage.
The main pathway to the ruins is lined with interesting tombs and buildings, which you can admire until you come to a gorgeous canyon. It is possible to rush through this part to get to the Treasury, which is what everyone wants to see, but Dan moonlights as a geologist and deeply appreciated the stone. The natural wonders of Petra are every bit as impressive as the ancient ones—the rocks form intricate patterns rich in red, yellow, black, and bluish-gray. Sometimes upper layers melt down over the lower ones like wax on a candle. Our interest in the natural aspects of Petra also allowed the man-made ones to take us by surprise. Somehow a niche or water channel is much more dramatic when it pops out at you from something that was already beautiful. When we saw the Treasury in the distance, its awesomeness struck us full force. It might be worn down and riddled with bullet holes from Bedouin target practice, but it is truly stunning.
In front of the Treasury, we ran into another traveler from the Cleopetra, who turned out to be a Canadian political science grad student named Emilie. She ended up joining us for the day as we visited the church with its cute animal mosaics, a temple proudly excavated by Brown University (a sign stands as testament to this fact), the Roman theater, and—after somewhere between 800 and 900 steps—the "monastery" up at the top of the site. After climbing Mt. Sinai the day before, I wasn't sure I was going to make it. But I did, and it was totally worth it. Emilie and I even managed to scramble up into the building to explore. (Dan hopped in there with no problem at all, but he has long legs!)
After that, we made our way up to the "Best View in Petra," of which there are actually many. Clashing signs with arrows pointing in different directions insist that their views are superior. We chose the highest point, where we naturally discovered a little shop, and from which the other two "best view" huts were actually visible. The shopkeeper was a very friendly Bedouin who chatted with us and showed us a different way to tie our keffiyehs (which I unfortunately forgot). He offered us tea, but when we asked for water he shook his head, pulled out a bottle of liquor, and said "This is what I drink up here." Apparently it can be very lonely and boring at the best view in Petra. He mentioned that his brother also works on site, and I asked if he was related to the other claimants to the best view. He replied, "Eh, the shop over there belongs to my cousin, so he's not really close. He's a nice guy—I don't take his business, and he doesn't take my business, because there is no business." The real money apparently comes from running tours. He invited us to stick around to watch the sun set, but we were too exhausted for it.
Emilie and I had some mixed interactions with Bedouin men when Dan wasn't around. His Arabic skills and the fact that he is a man earn him a certain level of respect which is not always afforded to women. Emilie had originally joined up with us because she didn't want to be alone if she ran into a guide who had followed her around the day before. During a sunscreen reapplication break, a couple of younger men on donkeys pushed us to accept a ride up the stairs to the monastery, and kept badgering us when we refused. I finally snapped, "Chalas, go away," which provoked them to respond that we were on their land and would go where they wanted to go. (The cultural implications of this encounter were awkward, to say the least.) I told them that sure, they could sit there, but they weren't going to make any money. They sat on their donkeys in stony silence for a moment to make their point, then rode off in search of business. At another time during the day, a couple of particularly smarmy guys were trying to get us to buy Petra books, but immediately scattered when Dan showed up. I was amused by the fact that their long curled hair and thin mustaches made them look a bit like pirates in the tradition of Captain Jack Sparrow.
Most of the people I have met here, however, are truly amazing people. Even though they obviously want you to stop and buy something, there is often sincerity in vendors' voices when they ask where you are from and then say, "Welcome!" They are glad to point you in the right direction if you need help, or even to randomly chat with you for a few minutes regardless of whether they turn a profit.
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