I checked with the concierge at my hotel about the nice government-owned JETT Mercedes minibuses that were somewhat ubiquitous in Aquba and I had read could take you about anywhere in Jordan. My destination was Petra. He blustered that these buses were dirty, poorly-maintained, unreliable, and that I was bound to find myself stranded or worse if I was foolish enough to take a JETT bus. He would, as a personal favor to me, arrange for someone, a relative of his perhaps, to drive me safely and comfortably to Petra. The JETT buses looked pretty nice and I had never heard a thing from any traveler about them being unreliable, but my concierge showed such concern for my well-being that I could hardly refuse his offer.
The next morning a nice Mercedes taxi appeared and whisked me off toward Petra. This was a pretty spectacular drive into the mountains, passing by many Bedouin camps, and with views off to the west of the ridge above the famed River Jordan.
I traveled the banks of the River of Jordan
To find where it flows to the sea.
I looked in the eyes of the cold and the hungry
And I saw I was looking at me.
I wanted to know if life had a purpose
And what it all means in the end.
In the silence I listened to voices inside me
And they told me again and again…
That I probably should have taken the JETT bus.
Petra is an incredible UNESCO World Heritage Site, dating to about 312 BC. Inhabited by a number of peoples, of varying religions, it was an important stop on the Silk Road. It is a well-protected valley with homes and buildings carved into the distinctive red stone. My own description cannot do it justice, so I suggest further reading at that cradle of all human knowledge, Wikipedia.
I spent two nights at Petra, with days spent walking around the incredible old city, now completely abandoned. As you enter through a narrow slot canyon, you can see where they had piping bringing water in from the outside. Incredible. It was a fascinating place to explore, but had its drawbacks. A German company had been contracted to help the Jordanians conserve the place, but toilets were few so most of the small rooms carved in the stone smelled of urine.
The Urn Tomb Cathedral is a smallish Christian church high up on a cliff which dates from the 3rd or 4th Century. It is little more than a couple of stone rooms, but offered one the most special and somewhat surreal moments of the trip. There was a church group visiting and holding a service on the bare stone floor. The interior was quite cool compared to the hot outside, but I found a place where I could sit just outside the church, still be in the shade, and gaze across the incredible vista of Petra. In my reverie was thinking that this was an ancient crossroads for travelers and that it didn’t likely look much different to this modern day traveler than at any point centuries ago, fancying myself traveling along the Silk Road, when the worshipers inside began singing a hymn that echoed magically out of the stone church. Talk about ambiance! Unbelievably cool, and one of my most treasured memories of any trip I’ve taken.
