The grand entrance
You can just turn up at Petra, buy the T-shirt and clear off, but Jeremy Seal knows a much better way to do it. Sunday Times, 12/11/2006
‘Take your time,’ warns Yamaan. The red rocks and waist-deep pools of the plummeting Ghuweir Canyon are flush with spring rain, and we’ve a distance to go on our – decidedly roundabout – walking route to Petra. All our diligent guide means is caution.
But Yamaan’s words will also do as a manifesto - and for nothing less than a fresh approach to appreciating the world’s great historical sites. Because taking our time on the Middle East’s answer to the Inca Trail – ending at Southern Jordan’s ‘rose-red city’ rather than Peru’s Macchu Picchu - is what this six-day hike is all about. And why the hurry when there are swivel-eyed chameleons on the Ghuweir’s rocks and griffon vultures in the sky, and the sheer sandstone walls above the tamarisk-lined banks are colourfully patterned with the surreal graffiti of iron, copper and magnesium seams?
You’re right; there are other ways of getting to Petra. The usual approach is along the country’s Desert Highway; door to Siq (Petra’s remarkable gorge entrance) in a little over two hours from Amman’s international airport. You could even be onto Aqaba, to Eilat in Israel or Taba in Egypt - having seen it, done the camel ride and got the T-shirt - by nightfall.
But we’re a mix of old Petra hands and first-timers who figure that the all-too-usual whistle-stop tour simply shouldn’t do when it comes to this site, perhaps the most eye-poppingly memorable of all. Rainbow-streaked (as well as rose-red) sandstone gorge walls have been cut to create exquisite column-fronted facades and cavernous tombs, extensive water channels and a monumental theatre. Then there’s the wider Shara Mountain setting which defies the usual Arabian desert stereotypes, as the Ghuweir is already demonstrating. The trail we’re walking, newly stitched together from grazing tracks, Bedouin migration routes and this first-day canyon descent, will bring us not only to Petra but, we hope, to a richer appreciation of the place and its surroundings. Tantric tourism, you could even call it.
Crag martins are surfing the gloaming, stuffing themselves on insects, by the time we reach the foot of the canyon. The semi-desert Wadi Araba (Valley of the Arabs) stretches before us, stalling the Ghuweir’s gravel-lined stream so that the pink-flowering oleanders along its bank waver their way into the gathering darkness. Distant specks of light are candles at the new Wadi Feynan eco-lodge. At this desert haven on the boundary of Jordan’s flagship nature reserve at Dana - Foreign Legion fort from the outside, monastic retreat within – there are solar-heated showers and simple stylish rooms; a magnificent mezze dinner - aubergines stuffed with walnuts and chilli, fuul (fava beans), fried courgettes, and green pickled tomatoes – and coffee on the roof terrace beneath a star-stippled sky.
The sun is still low as we stride out across the plain. Moses came this way, and many early Christians were martyred in the region’s brutal copper mines; all that remains of the numerous churches Byzantine pilgrims built in their honour is a solitary arched wall tottering above its ashlar footings. Goats graze among the scattered tent settlements of the Bedouins and we head south, hunkered down against the gathering heat. Flocks of bee-eaters pass overhead, a desert hare breaks cover, and groups of hobbled camels are working their way along the dry stream beds to chew on the acacia trees which grow there. But we have already gathered under one such tree, enjoying a shaded picnic lunch and Yamaan’s freshly brewed herb tea, and our undaunted guide won’t have the camels eating what is temporarily our parasol.
It is time for more tea – mint and sweet - when we arrive at camp; a generously proportioned and open-fronted communal tent with walls woven from hemp and camel hair. It sports a patterned pelmet and is furnished with rugs and bolsters, but it’s also patched with plastic sacks which once contained Turkish ‘Happy’ semolina. The overall effect is intriguing – you could style it shanty-town wedding marquee – but we are thrilled to call it home, especially when a foray up the nearby Barwas Canyon reveals a waterfall where none was expected. By the time we are all showered clean, the Bedouin camp staff have prepared an excellent chicken stew – and one of chick pea and peppers for the vegetarians - over the campfire. They have barely cleared away before we take to the mattresses, and a full moon flares into view over the mountains. A wolf calls from the canyon in the small hours.
In the morning we check our boots for scorpions – one has just been found lurking beneath a sponge bag – before heading for the hills along a well-trodden path. It is April, and the local Bedouin families, their goats and donkeys, will soon follow us along this important migration route which they know as Naqb Shdayed, or the tough way. So tough that they resort to sardines to keep them going if the thin trail of rusted tins at our feet – not so much litter, then, as anthropological study material – is anything to go by. We make do with energy bars and more tea stops as we toil through rock-strewn woods of juniper, desert broom and wild pistachio to a high pass.
‘That’s where we’re going,’ says Yamaan, pointing to some distant peaks. We descend past caper bushes and desert roses to a welcome stream where we cool our feet. We leave our footprints among the fresh hoof marks of elusive ibex goats which hide out among these mountains.
This is unrivalled walking, and not only for the dizzying views of the mountains and the Wadi Araba far below; immersion in the local history, culture, nature and the all-important geology is providing us with an illuminating context for the city we’re approaching. It’s increasingly clear we’re closing upon Petra, and not just in mileage terms; it’s sneak-previewed in the ancient, rock-cut water channel which leads us one morning to the ruins of the village it once served, in the numerous canyons and in the colours and shapes of the surreal eroded sandstone which overhangs our path like molten wax or fresh tears. We have been walking for five and a half days when we finally arrive. We bypass the usual queues, ranks of tour buses, trinket stands and haggling caleche drivers by using a barely used back route into the site. It leads us on a rocky trail and round a final corner to a sublime pay-off; we are standing before the Monastery’s mountain-top façade, almost as if we’ve stumbled upon what is the most awe-inspiring of Petra’s many monuments. It’s still early, and we’ve beaten all but the very first of the thousands of daily visitors to the site’s literal and aesthetic highpoint – just us and the iridescent sunbirds before this mesmerizing confection of columns, capitols and a high portico topped by a gigantic finial urn.
The main city site – churches and temples, forts, imperial tombs and the extraordinary theatre – lies in a mountain bowl below the Monastery. We’ve a long day exploring ahead of us but we won’t be the sorry ones – and there are always many – who remember the site chiefly for its physical challenges. Our walk to Petra has not only given us an understanding of the place; it’s also prepared us for the punishing contours and often fierce temperatures. Durable as Duracells, we’re among the last to remain. There’s a narrow strip of late sunlight high up one wall of the Siq as we leave this remarkable place. Our walk has ended, and only now are we among the ticket booths, the buses and the dubious charms of the site-side service-town sprawl which is Wadi Musa. It feels as if we’ve achieved that premier Petra experience.
ENDS
Jeremy Seal was a guest of Walks Worldwide (01524 242000; www.walksworldwide.com) whose 10-day ‘Gorges and the Petra Trek’ has departures in September and October costing £1,150 per person including flights and full-board accommodation.
WALKING TO THE WORLD’S WONDERS.
New regulations for the classic Inca Trail to Macchu Picchu in Peru mean that advance bookings are essential. Many walking groups have transferred en masse to unregulated alternative routes to Macchu Picchu, overrunning best known ones such as Santa Teresa. Walks Worldwide offer treks along the little-known Tarawasi Trail as part of a 13-day Peru package, from £1995 per person based on two sharing. The lost Inca city of Vilcabamba can be reached on an 8-day trek, from £2,032 per person based on a group of 4, through Cazenove & Loyd (020 7384 2332; www.cazloyd.com).
Walk to the Pont du Gard, one of the greatest monuments of Roman Provence, on a three-day trek with Inntravel (01653 617906; www.inntravel.co.uk) from £1098 per person based on two sharing for 6 nights half-board.
Reach Bath not by the M4 but walk in past its Georgian crescents along the Cotswold Way (www.cotswold-way.co.uk). The city’s still waiting for its spa to open, but you can soak your tired limbs and celebrate reaching the end of this 102-mile walk from Chipping Camden at the Royal Crescent Hotel and Bath House Spa (01225 823333; www.royalcrescent.co.uk)
But Yamaan’s words will also do as a manifesto - and for nothing less than a fresh approach to appreciating the world’s great historical sites. Because taking our time on the Middle East’s answer to the Inca Trail – ending at Southern Jordan’s ‘rose-red city’ rather than Peru’s Macchu Picchu - is what this six-day hike is all about. And why the hurry when there are swivel-eyed chameleons on the Ghuweir’s rocks and griffon vultures in the sky, and the sheer sandstone walls above the tamarisk-lined banks are colourfully patterned with the surreal graffiti of iron, copper and magnesium seams?
You’re right; there are other ways of getting to Petra. The usual approach is along the country’s Desert Highway; door to Siq (Petra’s remarkable gorge entrance) in a little over two hours from Amman’s international airport. You could even be onto Aqaba, to Eilat in Israel or Taba in Egypt - having seen it, done the camel ride and got the T-shirt - by nightfall.
But we’re a mix of old Petra hands and first-timers who figure that the all-too-usual whistle-stop tour simply shouldn’t do when it comes to this site, perhaps the most eye-poppingly memorable of all. Rainbow-streaked (as well as rose-red) sandstone gorge walls have been cut to create exquisite column-fronted facades and cavernous tombs, extensive water channels and a monumental theatre. Then there’s the wider Shara Mountain setting which defies the usual Arabian desert stereotypes, as the Ghuweir is already demonstrating. The trail we’re walking, newly stitched together from grazing tracks, Bedouin migration routes and this first-day canyon descent, will bring us not only to Petra but, we hope, to a richer appreciation of the place and its surroundings. Tantric tourism, you could even call it.
Crag martins are surfing the gloaming, stuffing themselves on insects, by the time we reach the foot of the canyon. The semi-desert Wadi Araba (Valley of the Arabs) stretches before us, stalling the Ghuweir’s gravel-lined stream so that the pink-flowering oleanders along its bank waver their way into the gathering darkness. Distant specks of light are candles at the new Wadi Feynan eco-lodge. At this desert haven on the boundary of Jordan’s flagship nature reserve at Dana - Foreign Legion fort from the outside, monastic retreat within – there are solar-heated showers and simple stylish rooms; a magnificent mezze dinner - aubergines stuffed with walnuts and chilli, fuul (fava beans), fried courgettes, and green pickled tomatoes – and coffee on the roof terrace beneath a star-stippled sky.
The sun is still low as we stride out across the plain. Moses came this way, and many early Christians were martyred in the region’s brutal copper mines; all that remains of the numerous churches Byzantine pilgrims built in their honour is a solitary arched wall tottering above its ashlar footings. Goats graze among the scattered tent settlements of the Bedouins and we head south, hunkered down against the gathering heat. Flocks of bee-eaters pass overhead, a desert hare breaks cover, and groups of hobbled camels are working their way along the dry stream beds to chew on the acacia trees which grow there. But we have already gathered under one such tree, enjoying a shaded picnic lunch and Yamaan’s freshly brewed herb tea, and our undaunted guide won’t have the camels eating what is temporarily our parasol.
It is time for more tea – mint and sweet - when we arrive at camp; a generously proportioned and open-fronted communal tent with walls woven from hemp and camel hair. It sports a patterned pelmet and is furnished with rugs and bolsters, but it’s also patched with plastic sacks which once contained Turkish ‘Happy’ semolina. The overall effect is intriguing – you could style it shanty-town wedding marquee – but we are thrilled to call it home, especially when a foray up the nearby Barwas Canyon reveals a waterfall where none was expected. By the time we are all showered clean, the Bedouin camp staff have prepared an excellent chicken stew – and one of chick pea and peppers for the vegetarians - over the campfire. They have barely cleared away before we take to the mattresses, and a full moon flares into view over the mountains. A wolf calls from the canyon in the small hours.
In the morning we check our boots for scorpions – one has just been found lurking beneath a sponge bag – before heading for the hills along a well-trodden path. It is April, and the local Bedouin families, their goats and donkeys, will soon follow us along this important migration route which they know as Naqb Shdayed, or the tough way. So tough that they resort to sardines to keep them going if the thin trail of rusted tins at our feet – not so much litter, then, as anthropological study material – is anything to go by. We make do with energy bars and more tea stops as we toil through rock-strewn woods of juniper, desert broom and wild pistachio to a high pass.
‘That’s where we’re going,’ says Yamaan, pointing to some distant peaks. We descend past caper bushes and desert roses to a welcome stream where we cool our feet. We leave our footprints among the fresh hoof marks of elusive ibex goats which hide out among these mountains.
This is unrivalled walking, and not only for the dizzying views of the mountains and the Wadi Araba far below; immersion in the local history, culture, nature and the all-important geology is providing us with an illuminating context for the city we’re approaching. It’s increasingly clear we’re closing upon Petra, and not just in mileage terms; it’s sneak-previewed in the ancient, rock-cut water channel which leads us one morning to the ruins of the village it once served, in the numerous canyons and in the colours and shapes of the surreal eroded sandstone which overhangs our path like molten wax or fresh tears. We have been walking for five and a half days when we finally arrive. We bypass the usual queues, ranks of tour buses, trinket stands and haggling caleche drivers by using a barely used back route into the site. It leads us on a rocky trail and round a final corner to a sublime pay-off; we are standing before the Monastery’s mountain-top façade, almost as if we’ve stumbled upon what is the most awe-inspiring of Petra’s many monuments. It’s still early, and we’ve beaten all but the very first of the thousands of daily visitors to the site’s literal and aesthetic highpoint – just us and the iridescent sunbirds before this mesmerizing confection of columns, capitols and a high portico topped by a gigantic finial urn.
The main city site – churches and temples, forts, imperial tombs and the extraordinary theatre – lies in a mountain bowl below the Monastery. We’ve a long day exploring ahead of us but we won’t be the sorry ones – and there are always many – who remember the site chiefly for its physical challenges. Our walk to Petra has not only given us an understanding of the place; it’s also prepared us for the punishing contours and often fierce temperatures. Durable as Duracells, we’re among the last to remain. There’s a narrow strip of late sunlight high up one wall of the Siq as we leave this remarkable place. Our walk has ended, and only now are we among the ticket booths, the buses and the dubious charms of the site-side service-town sprawl which is Wadi Musa. It feels as if we’ve achieved that premier Petra experience.
ENDS
Jeremy Seal was a guest of Walks Worldwide (01524 242000; www.walksworldwide.com) whose 10-day ‘Gorges and the Petra Trek’ has departures in September and October costing £1,150 per person including flights and full-board accommodation.
WALKING TO THE WORLD’S WONDERS.
New regulations for the classic Inca Trail to Macchu Picchu in Peru mean that advance bookings are essential. Many walking groups have transferred en masse to unregulated alternative routes to Macchu Picchu, overrunning best known ones such as Santa Teresa. Walks Worldwide offer treks along the little-known Tarawasi Trail as part of a 13-day Peru package, from £1995 per person based on two sharing. The lost Inca city of Vilcabamba can be reached on an 8-day trek, from £2,032 per person based on a group of 4, through Cazenove & Loyd (020 7384 2332; www.cazloyd.com).
Walk to the Pont du Gard, one of the greatest monuments of Roman Provence, on a three-day trek with Inntravel (01653 617906; www.inntravel.co.uk) from £1098 per person based on two sharing for 6 nights half-board.
Reach Bath not by the M4 but walk in past its Georgian crescents along the Cotswold Way (www.cotswold-way.co.uk). The city’s still waiting for its spa to open, but you can soak your tired limbs and celebrate reaching the end of this 102-mile walk from Chipping Camden at the Royal Crescent Hotel and Bath House Spa (01225 823333; www.royalcrescent.co.uk)
