6 July [continued… (again)…]

It was ad’Deir, the monastery itself. Bigger and in higher relief than al’Khazneh, it was astounding. Maybe it was the fact that I was out of breath from the climb, but it took my breath away.

 

It was enormous. Looking a lot like the Khazneh well below, it was nonetheless more impressive. More yellow in color than the red that dominates so many of the other places here, Ad’Deir is an astounding 48 meters tall and 43 meters wide. It has the same angled, engaged roof and mock support columns typical of facades all over the canyon, but it dwarfed everything I’d seen thus far. Scale was difficult to fathom, the people beneath, mere pebbles. I took pictures and then sat in the shade staring at this goliath of a creation. Finally I pulled forth a book, the Pepsi and cookies I had purchased the evening before and gallantly toted up the mountain, and I had myself a little picnic. I could have gotten a cold can of soda (for $3) and Pringles (for $5) under the awning in the near distance, but I preferred drinking my warm soda alone in the shade.

 

It was quiet, peaceful, and I really enjoyed that hour. The shadows, though, progressed from thin bands of protective warmth to bright, unrelenting heat. My peace had been interrupted by the ever-vicious sun. So I decided to move. I wandered a bit, took more pictures, and went inside the monastery. To get in, you had to climb a makeshift ramp, nothing more than precarious stones stacked atop one another and then a long, flat stone leaning against the lip of the opening atop which you had to balance and then step up. Inside was a square cut chamber and a roughly church like layout with naves and a carved out area at the back that would be something like an apse I suppose. I didn’t look around much because there were also salesmen in here, same stuff, different Bedouin. But one had a bazooki of sorts and played music that echoed through the chamber. That was a nice touch. They offered me mint tea but I didn’t feel like shopping or negotiating, so I left the building behind.

 

I explored some more and ended up in a cave facing the monastery. This one looked surprisingly like a skull, jutting rounded from the ground and pierced by openings resembling eyes and nose, but enclosed as it was it provided much needed shade. And it only smelled somewhat of goat droppings. So here I read for another hour and wrote in my journal.

 

Completely recovered from the long upward climb I now went to see the ‘views’. There were several signs, crudely handwritten and rather scary (like ‘sacrifice view’) pointing the way. Relatively short trails that branched off and away from the monastery led to them. And spotting them wasn’t difficult for they were marked by, what else, gift shops. These were tent-like as were most of the booths at Petra, and strategically located at the edge of the sheer drop that constituted the picturesque viewpoints.

 

I hiked over to one and looked out from the edge, ignoring the salespeople. In fact the sales were not so severe here and there were many tourists. I realized I was in the midst of the Spanish group I’d entered the site with at the beginning of the day. They were taking pictures of each other at the edge of the cliff. Behind them loomed a vast open space beyond which mountains rose and deserts fell. It was astonishing.

 

I went to three of these lookouts and looked out. They were all amazing, full of natural beauty. There were certainly people around and I preferred to find a spot where I could sit and just stare off into space, but such places weren’t that hard to find so the experience was quite good overall. The persistent heat was the real bother, but even that could be curtailed in shadowy tombs. Of course, many of these smelled rather vile.

 

I suspected I would be harassed by the Bedou woman again as I went down the hill. There was, after all, only one way out. And indeed, she recognized me and asked again, “How much you pay?” I admired her tenacity and that she wasn’t angry, so I told her I had at most $20 I could spend. We went about negotiating and finally settled on a deal that included the camel bone box and a few knick-knacks.

 

Downward I went. It was well into afternoon and I wanted to try the Cave Bar before being picked up at 6pm. And I had a long way to go to get out of the canyon valley. But the stairs down weren’t so bad. I often heard the clomp of hooves on the path ahead or behind and stood against the cliff to make room for the passing donkeys. I passed the side trail to the Lion Tomb without noticing the sign and before I knew it I was at the base of the steps. A few tourists just beginning the trail asked me how long it took to climb up there and I estimated 45 minutes to an hour on foot.

 

I got back on the colonnaded street and decided to check out the main temple. It’s a very large structure raised above and behind the street accessed by a grandiose staircase. This was one of the main foci of investigation for Brown University and as I topped the stairs I saw their flag flying over the building. The stairs had brought me to a wide open space with stone paving and that courtyard had the remains of columns. At the rear were impressive walls and niches, the remains of statues peering out of some. It was an enormous building and still quite impressive. I wandered around. Looked out over the street below, and finally came back down the stairs.

 

Ignoring the cries of ‘nice gift, one dinar’, I passed the theater once more and finally arrived back at al’Khazneh. I sat in front of it again, enjoying the new play of light from a different angle of the sun and realized I would be leaving the canyon valley soon. It had been a hot but enjoyable journey. There was a large group of camels sitting in the space in front of the Treasury building and one of the riders walked up, patted one of them on the head, and gave it a liter water bottle. The camel took it in its mouth, tilted its head back, and drank down the water without any assistance from his human counterpart. I found this most entertaining but didn’t get my camera in time to snap a shot. The camel drank the water quickly and then spat out the bottle.

 

Finally I turned to make the march back up the Siq. It had a lovely breeze and was quite comfortable in its shaded areas. But those didn’t last as long as I’d remembered. And then came the long open walk outside the Siq that had slipped my mind. Sun beat down on me but I made the gate around 5pm. I could use a beer at this point. OK, it’s not the best thing to drink in the heat, but I’d been drinking water all day and that day was almost over. I’d seen a sign for the Cave Bar near the entrance so I followed it but only came to construction. I checked my guide book map and this was where the place was supposed to be. Peering beyond the construction fence I saw what had probably been the bar’s exterior. It was supposed to have been a 2000 year old Nabatean tomb, but now it looked like a faux plaster facade. They were putting in a large scale resort here and apparently had closed the bar for refurbishment. Damn.

 

I saw a sign for the Crowne Plaza resort and it advertised the Cave Bar. I decided to walk toward the resort since I still had an hour and I might as well walk around. It wasn’t far and when I got there, even the doorman asked if he could help. I was wary at first since most who ask you that mean to sell you something. But this was one of the expensive places and they weren’t likely to be like that. So I asked about the Cave Bar. He told me it was closed for now but there was another bar inside. I decided to go in.

 

Here I met a very nice clerk who asked what I wanted. And not in the way the Bedouin, or rather sales people, outside did. He was genuine and sincere. I said ‘how much for a beer?’ He told me. No dickering, no ‘how much you pay?’ So, I said ‘OK’ and sat down. The beer was expensive but cold and it hit me pretty hard after a long day of walking. The bar was simple but air conditioned and the view through the plate glass window out over the canyon and cliffs was pretty amazing. I like roughing it but an occasional dip into the realm of minor luxury is nice and helps to keep me sane.