Jordan - Wadi Rum, Petra

After three mostly quiet days in Amman, we were refreshed and ready to move on, and Ahmed met us early in the morning to introduce us to our driver and bid us goodbye.  There was a four-hour journey ahead of us that morning, and our driver, Fakhir, cheerfully helped us load our gear, and we were off to the desert.  Traffic was light leaving Amman, and we were soon traveling the main highway through the center of Jordan leading south toward the city of Aqaba.  Fakhir didn’t speak much English, and my Arabic is still woefully lacking, so the drive was silent as my crew dozed in the back seat and I looked out the window to bleak views of the Jordanian countryside.  The terrain was flat and stretched to a rocky, sandy expanse on both side of the highway, occasionally interrupted by a few small villages or a large souvenir market.  Packs of wild dogs trotted through the scrub looking for food, and we had to avoid a few flocks of sheep as their shepherds led them across the highway.  We stopped at several checkpoints where policemen questioned Fakhir briefly and gave us a quick glance.  I heard the word “American” a few times, and we were allowed to pass after all the men exchanged knowing smiles.

The drive seemed to pass more quickly than I thought it would, and about noon we crossed over into the desert sanctuary of Wadi Rum, a seven-hundred-square kilometer protected wilderness.  We stopped at a prearranged meeting point, and Fakhir transferred us to the care of Imani, a smiling Bedouin with a tricked out Toyota 4x4 and a red-and-white checked keffiyeh wound tightly around his head.  He was the brother of our next host, Ahmad, and he was ready to take us through the desert to their camp where we were booked to spend the next couple of nights.  I paid Fakhir and thanked him for driving us safely, and he blessed us and wished us a happy journey.  We threw our gear in the truck, climbed in, and with an Arabic shout equivalent to the American exclamation, “yee-haw,” Imani stomped the gas pedal, and we took off into the the desert swerving wildly through the sand, the perfect remedy for a long, tedious morning of highway driving.

Wadi Rum is also called the Valley of the Moon, and it looks otherworldly with vast, desolate expanses of desert terrain surrounded by sandstone and granite mountains carved into shapes of a dreamscape by wind and sand and time.  The Martian, Rogue One, and other movies with otherworldly settings have been filmed here because of its alien appearance, and there is no other place quite like it in the world.  I lost track of time as we drove deeper into the desert, and the rock formations grew larger the farther we went, and we saw long lines of camels trekking through the hills.  We finally circled a large mountain and swerved to a stop in a cloud of red sand which settled to reveal a small camp of black canvas tents protected by the hillside and situated in a square around a large fire pit.  This modest outpost was to be our home for the next two days, and our host, Ahmad, came out to greet us. He was wearing an ankle length Bedouin coat, and his long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail.  After he showed us our quarters for the night, we stowed our gear and sat around the fire pit munching the chicken pitas we had packed and drinking Bedouin tea while we waited for our afternoon 4x4 tour of the desert.

The air was cool with a light breeze, and the sky was a deep, clear blue with no clouds to mar the long views of the mountains.  Another one of Ahmad’s brothers was our tour driver for the afternoon, and we climbed into the bed of his 4x4, which had benches welded on each side with old sofa cushions tied on for shock absorption.  We were off in another cloud of dust as we sped far into the desert until the silvery green scrub looked like a sea against the red mountains, and the sky deepened in color making edges of the sandstone outcrops look hand drawn.  Our many excursions over the years have taken us into some remote areas, and I’ve been on some backpacking trips to some desolate locations, but for the first time in my life, I truly felt like I was in the middle of nowhere.  Depending on the direction of the sunlight, the sand appeared burnt orange one moment and deep red the next.  The mountain formations were steep and sharp in some areas and looked like huge scoops of melting ice cream in others.  Erosion has exposed multiple layers in the granite and sandstone shapes, and they looked like stacks of sienna slabs with a rosy pink patina.  As we bounced over the hills, we saw many natural wonders, and we all praised the beauty of this lonely, windswept wilderness.

We made several stops during the afternoon including a natural bridge which only Joseph was brave enough to scale, a spring flowing from the depths of an ancient gorge, and a large Bedouin meeting area where we were served many cups of steaming Bedouin tea and invited to explore a nearby canyon.  We visited with some camels resting from a long trek in the desert, and our guide showed us how the Bedouins make soap from a scrub plant called ajerum.  One of my favorite aspects of the tour was a stop at some smooth rock formations where we could see ancient petroglyphs carved by Nabataeans and other tribes as they crossed the desert on long trading expeditions.  We finished our afternoon tour perched on a high sandstone outcrop in front of one of the main filming areas from The Martian and watched the sun set over the desert of Wadi Rum before heading back to camp for supper.

Petroglyphs

The Camp

Joseph on the bridge

The camp was full that night as Ahmad and several of his brothers worked hard to prepare a meal for us and a group of twelve men from San Jose State College who had traveled to Jordan on their winter break.  They were all pleasant, respectful young men, and we enjoyed eating a large Bedouin barbecue with them as we reclined on cushions in the heated community tent.  There were huge plates of savory rice and chicken with warm pita bread, hummus, vegetables, and bowls of sauces along with never-ending cups of savory Bedouin tea.  The food had been cooking all afternoon in a giant dutch oven buried in the sand in a bed of hot coals.  After supper, Ahmad kindled a fire, and we stood around the fire pit telling travel stories and sharing humorous experiences.  A few of the guys were Tolkien fans and engaged me in a little trivia match, but they soon acquiesced to my vast knowledge of Middle Earth.  The stars were out, and the night sky was pretty, but the moon was up and bright and its light diminished the appearance of the constellations.  Ahmad returned to the fire pit carrying a large green hookah which he stuck in the sand and primed with coals placed on the top tray.  The hose got passed around the fire for a while before Ahmad turned off the generator that supplied the minimal lighting to the camp, and we retired to our assigned tents and turned in for the night.  

The canvas tents were about a ten-foot square wrapped around a metal frame and anchored on a concrete platform similar to a scout camp setting.  We slept on metal beds with thin foam mattresses covered up against the chilly desert night with layers of thick blankets.  The cold night vanished immediately with the appearance of the sun over the mountains, and Ahmad had a big breakfast waiting in the community tent with a carafe full of strong, steaming Arabic coffee.  After a big meal of boiled eggs, pita bread, hummus, cheese, and jam, one of Ahmad’s brothers drove us back to the main road where we met our driver, Shed’ah who was smiling and ready to take us to Petra for the day.  The journey took two hours from Wadi Rum. Then we arrived at Petra at 11:00 and arranged to meet Shed’ah five hours later for the return trip to Ahmad’s camp.  We paid our admission fee and wandered around the excellent visitor center for a while before starting our hike to the archaeological site.  

Petra is now listed as one of the new seven wonders of the world, and it’s renowned for the architecture of the main structures of the complex cut into the high pink sandstone cliffs by the Nabataeans in the first century BC.  Upon entering the Siq which is the long passage to the city through a canyon lined with ingenious aqueducts, we were immediately set upon by persistent men trying to sell us donkey and horse rides.  The men pestered us the entire time we were in Petra, and while I can appreciate that everyone needs to make a living, these guys were a Royal Jordanian pain in the... Assyrians were the first nation to write about the Nabataeans, and they were listed as enemies of the state in 700 BC.  The Nabateans were a nomadic tribe who eventually settled in southern Jordan, figured out amazing methods to get water in the desert, and grew fabulously rich from the incense trade.  By 100 BC, they were well established and had a powerful military which defeated enemies by luring them into the desert where they died of thirst and relentless attacks while the Nabataeans survived on hidden strategic water stashes.  Their craftsmen carved the famous structures of the city into the cliffs while the money from trade filled the city coffers as they levied fees on camel caravans that would equal $5000 in today’s money.  Their main customers were wealthy Romans who were willing to pay huge sums of money for spices and incense supplied by the caravans that took three months to pick up and deliver their goods.

The Nabateans were influenced by other cultures as evidenced by the Hellenistic appearance of the carved treasury and temples, and they remained a force with which to be reckoned until the Roman Empire and earthquakes led to their demise, as was the case for many ancient civilizations.  By 300 AD, Petra was abandoned and was lost in the sands of time until its rediscovery in the early 1800’s.  I wonder what those explorers thought when they walked through the ancient Siq and beheld before them the rosy pink treasury carved perfectly in the stone and forgotten for all those years.  The length of the city walk is a nine-kilometer round trip, and we did the whole thing in about four hours with plenty of time in between for exploring the ruins.  After the magnificent Treasury, the road through the ancient city winds past temples, tombs, colonnades, and the theater all carved from the colorful sandstone with swirling patterns of sienna, ocher, umber, earthy brown, and soft pink layers.  The colors were visually stunning and reminded me of the gold artifacts from Tutankhamen's tomb that were so pure that the color seemed to change from deep yellow to rich pink depending on the source of light.

The walk from the start of the Siq to the end of the city is all downhill, which meant a long ten uphill to the visitor center, where we had plenty of time for a pizza snack before meeting Shed’ah for the trip back to Wadi Rum.  Petra is a spectacular place and a true, colorful treasure of the archaeological world as well as a difficult place to reach.  All agreed that we had been to a very special place, but we were exhausted after a day of long travel and rich discovery.  

The sun had set by the time we met Ahmad’s brother in Wadi Rum, and darkness followed us over the mountains as we made our way through the thick red sand to camp.  The young men from San Jose State had left, and the only other traveler in camp for the night was Vitaly, an extremely polite Ukrainian who spoke English skillfully.  Ahmad ushered us into the community tent, poured cups of Bedouin tea, and served us heaping trays of rice, vegetables, and roasted goat, which tasted very similar to beef stew.  With just a few guests in camp for the night, Ahmad had a lot of time to visit, and he fired up the hookah, reclined on a colorful cushion, and talked with us far into the night.  

Mom sets the example

We learned that he has ten brothers and five sisters, and that he grew up in a tight community of Bedouins that still practiced the nomadic way of life.  He and some of his brothers started the camp to earn extra money for his family, and now they also arrange eco treks  and camel caravans to travelers looking for a more extreme desert adventure.  Ahmad told us that when he was a young boy, his father wanted to take his children to school. This desire required waking up at three in the morning for a two-and-a-half hour camel ride to the nearest village school followed by the same camel ride home.  We asked how long they kept up that schedule to which Ahmad replied with a smile, “One day.”  Instead, the children grew up learning how to survive in the desert and look after the members of the community and their livestock as they moved from place to place following the water sources during the seasons.  Over the years, Ahmad learned English from the tourists in Wadi Rum, and he’s become a world traveler spending months away from home while his brothers mind the camp in the low season.  He recently spent three months in India, and while he’s traveled to many other exotic locations, he wants to go to America—now almost impossible with a Jordanian passport.  Ahmad’s father still lives the Bedouin life in the desert with extended family, and he checks on him every two weeks or so, but sometimes it takes a couple of days to find him in the wilderness.

The time came to say goodnight, and we drained our last cups of Bedouin tea which Ahmad shared the secret of brewing, and we made our way to the tents for our last night in the desert.  About three in the morning, I had to answer the call of nature, and on my way back to the tent, I stopped and looked all around.  The moon was down and the stars were so plentiful and bright, it was like standing under a glass bowl looking clear through to the night sky beyond with a pearly netting pulled tightly around.  I’ve never witnessed a night sky that intense before, and I stood there shivering for a while before forcing myself back inside the tent.  We were up with the sunrise the next morning and shared a simple but hearty breakfast with Vitaly, who was on his way to Petra for the day.  We got busy packing while Ahmad prepared to take us to the town of Aqaba in his 4x4, but he realized that he had locked his keys inside the truck along with his phone.  Joseph and I helped him break into his truck, and at some point in the lengthy process, I quipped that at least with a camel, one didn’t have to worry about the keys.  Ahmad’s lack of response alerted me to the fact he wasn’t in the mood for my attempts at desert humor.

We finally got on our way, and we had un uneventful drive to Aqaba, which is located at the southern tip of Jordan near the junction of Israel and the Sinai peninsula.  Deena scored us a couple of free nights at the Radisson Blu resort on the shore of the Red Sea just south of Aqaba, and Ahmad delivered us to the front door after the security guards used big mirrors on long poles to check under his truck for bombs.  After five months on the road, our experience in the desert at the camp was one of the coolest things we’ve done, and we thanked Ahmad many times before he drove away.  We walked into the lobby of this swanky resort looking like the Beverly Hillbillies staring at the cement pond out back in our dusty clothes smelling like camel as we passed guys in blue blazers, white linen trousers, and alligator shoes with no socks.  We have a great room on the second floor with a full Red Sea view of the Gulf of Aqaba looking across to the hazy hills of the Sinai and a big balcony perfect for stringing a paracord clothesline on which to hang our clothes after washing them in the sink.  For the next two days there’s nothing on the agenda but resting, drinking coffee, and looking out to the Red Sea as we prepare for more mega travel and our next destination in Bangkok, Thailand as the adventure continues….

Sunset over the Sinai