I am dodging puddles in the desert. What are the odds, I think to myself, that my trip to Jordan has coincided with the wettest week here in three decades? But quickly, the water starts to dry up as the hot sun steadily climbs in the sky.
I am on my way to the archaeological site of Petra, the historic city cut from rock. The path is worth the trip on its own, through a 1,200-yard-long gorge. Deep and narrow, it was carved through the stone by centuries of rainwater and rare but fierce storms just like the one the area has endured the last few days.
As-Siq, as the entrance to Petra is known, is less than nine yards wide in most places. The surrounding cliffs are nearly a football field tall, engulfing me on my journey.
I continue my serpentine hike, avoiding tiny streams that carry water to a basin below. It's only fitting that I get my first glimpse of the ancient city reflected in a shimmer of water. The massive Al-Khazneh, or Treasury, with its signature red hue, is barely visible through the narrow entrance ahead.
Like many, I suspect my first encounter with Petra came at the end of "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade." Indy and his father prepare to ride off into the sunset, having survived the travails of their attempt to recover the Holy Grail. They sweep past Petra's Treasury building, then ride their horses back out of the gorge I have just traversed.
The clip from the film has hardly prepared me for the ruins I am about to enter.
Full of history
Like all buildings at Petra, the massive Al-Khazneh is carved out of this area's signature rose sandstone (Petra means "rock" in Greek), rising more than five stories tall. My guide, Narwan El-Khatib, points out the many influences in its facade.
"You can see the Greek influence in the six columns at the bottom of the structure, but you can also see the artistic touch of the Nabataeans, who carved series of human and animal figures on the side of the entrance," he said.
In other places, there are hints of Egyptian and Mesopotamian influences. Today, those carvings of horses, camels and people are fading, eroding after centuries of sandstorms and, sadly, vandalism.
At the top of the structure sits a huge urn. A close look reveals what look like bullet holes. They are.
"The Bedouin thought the urn was full of treasure, so they would shoot at it, hoping it would shatter and spill its gold and silver," El-Khatib said. "But the urn is just a solid carving, and so all that shooting did nothing except scar the facade."
Scholars think that when it was built in the first century BC, the Treasury served as the tomb of an important king, and perhaps later as a temple. Today, it stands empty, as do most of the buildings on the site.
The original creators of Petra were the Nabataeans, an ancient tribe from the Arabian peninsula whose kingdom sprawled from Jordan through what is today Saudi Arabia and Yemen. Ancient trade routes linking the Middle East to India and even China were the source of their wealth.
Biblical era caravans traversed this corner of Jordan carrying Arabian Frankincense and myrrh, African ivory and animal hides. On their return, they were packed with silk and Indian spices.
For centuries, the Nabataeans were able to preserve their independence through diplomacy, trade and warfare. Finally, however, the Romans were unable to tolerate a strong rival in the region. In 106 AD, the same legionnaires who crushed the Jewish uprising in nearby Israel overwhelmed the kingdom and annexed it.
Lost and found
While the Treasury building is the postcard moment for many at Petra, it is merely the first building in a massive complex that stretches for miles. The ancient city sits in a deep valley, with buildings on either side of the surrounding rock faces.
On most days, the walk down the main path is easy because the sandstone serves as a natural roadway. This morning, though, parts are slick from the rain and it's a little like walking to the mailbox following a Midwestern ice storm.
A few hundreds yards down the "Streets of Facades" is a public amphitheater, with seats hand-carved out of solid stone. The entrance is freestanding, with a series of tall roman columns. Originally built by the Nabataeans, it was expanded by the Romans to seat nearly 7,000.
On the opposite side of the street are a series of elaborate tombs. Not much is known about who was buried in these, so they are called by names derived from their unique features.
The Palace Tomb, an exquisitely carved monument, is three stories tall with richly decorated columns and pillars. The largest, the Urn tomb, was later consecrated as a Byzantine Church. Only one tomb in the complex has an inscription on it, Sexitus Florentinus, named after the Roman Governor of the Province of Arabia around 130 AD.
Petra was inhabited for hundreds of years, until 363 AD, when a huge earthquake rattled the region.
"The earthquake destroyed a number of buildings and damaged much of the elaborate water system, which depended on hand-carved channels, pipes and chutes," said El-Khatib as he pointed out a narrow channel carved into one of the sandstone walls.
Partially destroyed and eventually abandoned, Petra was lost to the Western world until a Swiss traveler, Johann Burkhart, rediscovered it in 1812. Today, Petra is a World Heritage site and - along with Peru's Machu Picchu and Cambodia Angkor Wat - a must-see site for any archaeology buff.
Beyond the crowds
I am lucky enough to enter the site with a private guide early in the morning, when tourists number in the handfuls. Later, buses will begin to arrive; even in the off-season, more than 60,000 visitors a month tour Petra.
The crowds push me deeper into the complex, down a colonnaded street. This is where the city center once stood, home to temples, shops and public buildings.
Past this main street, my guide leads me to a narrow path, points up and waves me adieu. He knows what lies ahead - I am about to learn the hard way. It's an hour-long steep climb of 800 hand-chiseled stairs up the mountain of Ad-Deir toward Petra's second most famous site. Mercifully, there are lean-tos built along the mountain path from which local Bedouin sell handicrafts and, most importantly, water.
The hike is worth it. At the top, the Monastery -- a tomb or temple, perhaps both -- is even more imposing than the Treasury.
In the front is a large gathering space. Nearby is yet another narrow path, winding across the blowing sands and leading to the far edge of the mountain. I hesitate for a moment, not sure if I have the energy for another hike, but decide to push forward. Along the way are small, weathered signs, hand-printed in English and Arabic: "Viewpoint ahead."
When I reach the edge, I realize Petra has saved its best for last. More than 1,000 feet below the sheer cliff I now stand on is the harsh Negev desert, sweeping westward toward Israel. A few other tourists have made this last climb. Some stay a good distance from the cliff's edge, captivated by the landscape but unsure of the footing. One brave - or foolhardy - Italian climbs an outcropping jutting out over the valley. The rest of us look on nervously.
I find a quiet spot and dangle my feet over the edge, clicking a few photos and thinking of the history below. The Negev has none of the romance of the windswept dunes of Lawrence of Arabia, but what this hardscrabble plain lacks in beauty it makes up for in history.
This is the desert where the Israelis wandered after leaving Egypt; to the north is Mount Nevo, where Moses was buried. In the distance, Petra's main street now looks like a miniature set.
I am not sure if Indiana Jones really found the Holy Grail in these nearby hills, but if there ever was the perfect place to look for it, Petra is it.
Source: 77 Square