Petra, Part 2

Dan's and my second day at Petra was scary for me, but also exhilarating. The day before, we had seen a sign leading to a side trail that said: "Venturing beyond this point without a guide is dangerous." Needless to say, we went anyway. The path wasn't actually that difficult to follow—the centuries-old Nabatean steps were worn but present, and there was plenty of horse and camel dung to reveal which areas were heavily traveled. I was terrified we would get lost and never make it back home, but Dan was confident in our abilities. Rightfully so, as it turns out.



We didn't encounter other tourists all morning—we were all by ourselves, traveling the same paths that ancient Petra residents (and modern Bedouin) have continuously traveled. In fact, many of the old tombs have obviously become camel storage areas. They floors were liberally coated with camel poop, discarded soda cans, and cigarette butts. Even better, the walls were covered with graffiti and drawings of camels.



The scenery was absolutely stunning. As we climbed up the mountain, we reached the end of it to discover a vast green plain, crisscrossed with well-worn paths leading off into the hills. We decided to follow, since we were hoping we had found a semi-secret route to the high place of sacrifice, where you can see an intact altar. Along the way there were gorgeous views and interesting animals, including a couple of blue salamanders. It is very difficult to get close to lizards, since they are easily spooked. Even a slight noise can send them racing off into the distance, their little legs fully extended and flopping up and down so awkwardly that I find their speed surprising.



The path, as far as we could tell, ended with a grouping of small huts that were obviously regularly used. We called out to see if anyone was there, and when there was no answer we paused to figure out what to do next. Then, out of nowhere, a Bedouin woman riding a donkey approached us and asked where we were going. Suddenly she was tethering her donkey and leaping down barely-discernible paths in the rocks, down past ancient ruins overgrown with pink-flowered plants. When I paused to consider how to get down myself, she took my hand to steady my descent. When we took a brief break, she played flute for us and picked those pink flowers to present to us as gifts. Dan and I immediately placed them in our keffiyehs. And then it was down again, down until we were suddenly on the cliffs above the treasury, enjoying an uncommonly good view.



When we'd had our fill, she led us back to a place where the path was clear and pointed us in the direction of the sacrificial altar. After plenty more climbing, we reached it, exhilarated. And the day didn't end there—we still had to descend. We took a long way down, past some incredible tombs. One looked like a garden temple from the Legend of Zelda, and another, the Tomb of the Roman Soldier, was located across from a beautifully colored triclinium (funerary dining hall), where we briefly reclined.



Finally the main road at Petra was visible again, and although I was pretty wiped out, I knew we'd just had an awesome day. It was totally worth the hike. I doubt I'll ever see anything as wild as Petra again.