PETRA REVISITED

We started early, to undertake the slog down the Siq before it got too hot. We paused to wonder again at the Treasury, then carried on down the valley. Wherever one looked, there were monuments. Every available space seemed to have been shaped by unseen hands.
Some of it was on a very human scale, small memorials to lesser men, now wearing a little thin and showing signs of age.

But then some were on a grand scale, like the Tomb of the Urn:

The Urn tomb, high on the cliffs, was also showing signs of the ravages of time, but the beautiful colours in the rocks made up for the loss of detail.
There is a thesis that the damage to the lower part of the monument is caused by rising water levels. I think this is nonsense, and that the Nabateans cut into the natural water level and thereby sealed the fate of the lower sections. There is a huge chamber inside the Urn tomb. It was quite clear why - and how - it had become a Byzantine church, in the 5th century AD.

From the platform in front of the Urn tomb, the mountains across the south of the site loom large. The Monastery, which we visited next, is behind the left-hand hill. In the shade, it was pleasantly cool. Out there, in the desert, it was HOT!

There followed a long slog down the old Roman road, through Roman ruins being restored, accompanied by a marvellously persistent couple of local children leading a pair of donkeys. Why were we walking? - We could ride! It was very hot, and at the bottom of the valley there was a cool cafe and a chance to have something to drink and admire the museum. Then to brave the climb up 600 steps to the Monastery.

When we came out of the museum into the afternoon heat, our courage failed us. The two children were summoned, and, to the amusement of the professional muleteers, who advised us that the children were not to be trusted, off we set up the mountain. The path was narrow, and the drops on either side soon became impressive, but nothing was as impressive as the sure-footedness of our tiny mounts. Finally our guides said we should walk the last few hundred metres, so, shakily, we made our way along the path, through a narrow gap, and down onto an open plain. Ahead was another cafe, and we were halfway there when I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye, and there, behind us, was a truly spectacular piece of work.

The scale beggars description. Suffice it to say that the step up to the door is 2m high, and the white blob at the bottom left of the doorway is in fact a reclining figure, exhausted from the scramble up! One had to wonder what had moved people to carve such a monument on such a scale so high on a remote mountain.

After a cooling drink, it was time to brave the ride down. The Traveller was terrified! "Lean back!" I would call, as she threatened yet again to take a dive over the donkey's head. The youngster insisted on holding her arm - "Don't worry, madam." I was laughing so much I forgot to take a picture.

Finally we were down. More ruins to explore, and then the long slog back to the Siq. It seemed to be even hotter. At that moment, a man hove in view leading three camels. Protracted negotiations, then we were off!

The camel's expression says it all!

We were dropped at the Treasury, and made our way one last time up the Siq.

There were clear ruts in the cobbled stones, made by Roman carts two millenia ago. At the top left you can see one of the water channels carved by the Nabateans to bring water down the Siq. The gathering of water from every single crevice, and its storage in wonderfully made stone dams that dotted the entire site, showed a high degree of engineering skills.