THE JOYS OF JORDAN
SO MUCH HISTORY, BEAUTY EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK
The cool water that was ankle deep half a kilometre back now pushes against the bottom of my life-jacket.
The canyon we’re hiking up has narrowed, the current has grown stronger and the boulders are bigger. Up ahead, the thunder of waterfalls reverberates off the high sandstone walls.
We’re deep inside the spectacular slot canyon of Wadi Mujib, one of Jordan’s nine protected nature reserves. Shafts of sunlight reach down to illuminate layers of rock compressed over millenniums.
We stop repeatedly to gaze up as the walls converge overhead in a swirl of sensuous shapes and colours.
Adventure tourism is taking off in Jordan spurred in part by the newly completed Jordan Trail, a 650-kilometre hiking route that stretches from the Roman ruins near Umm Qais in the country’s north to the blue waters of the Red Sea in the south.
“People think once they’ve seen Petra, they’ve seen everything,” sighs Carmen Scholten, the owner of In2Jordan, a tour operator that offers customized itineraries that can include — but go well beyond — the ancient Nabataean city that is Jordan’s greatest attraction.
We begin near Madaba, known as the city of mosaics for its centuries-old stone art. It’s an odd choice perhaps for an adventure-seeking group, but driving to the top of Mount Nebo orients us to Jordan’s biblical landscape.
We see Israel in the hazy distance, beyond the Dead Sea, shimmering in the heat.
We learn that Jesus was baptized on this side of the Jordan River, and that Moses climbed this very mountain after wandering in the desert for 40 years. Steeped in history, we hit the road. By evening we’re in Wadi Rum, a desert valley in southern Jordan that T.E. Lawrence, the inspiration for Lawrence of Arabia, described as “vast, echoing and God-like.”
The UNESCO World Heritage Site is studded with mountains that morph from beige to burnt orange to rosy red. Rock walls bear inscriptions and petroglyphs from 12,000 years of human occupation.
Riding a camel over sand dunes at sunset feels like a Middle Eastern tourist cliche, but these dromedaries and their Bedouin owners are for real. When one cantankerous animal lies on its back, kicks his feet in the air and bellows his discontent, it’s like watching a toddler throw a temper tantrum.
“They are comfortable, but you really have to relax into them,” says Gail, our English-speaking guide.
With a lurch and a heave, my ship of the desert, as they are known, rises under me, back legs first. When he’s fully standing, I realize it’s no wonder camels often seem disdainful of people. From this great height, they can only look down on us. The next day we explore a tiny patch of Wadi Rum on foot.
At 8 a.m. the heat already feels intense. We stop to rest at a Bedouin camp where a smiling young man in a white ankle-length thobe and headdress offers us sweet tea flavoured with cardamom, sage and cinnamon.
Later, we follow a herd of goats deeper into the desert, where they graze on shrubs and thorny bushes.
When we turn off into an open valley, I feel the wonderful emptiness that Lawrence described so poetically.
There’s no one else in sight and no sound but the echo of a bark from a dog goat-herding in the distance.
Back on the road, I’m looking forward to cooling off in the intensely blue water of the Red Sea at Aqaba, Jordan’s only port city.
Wedged between Israel and Saudi Arabia, and within sight of Egypt, Jordan’s 25-kilometre stretch of beachfront is known for its spectacular fringing reef.
The coral is as colourful as a flower garden in spring and so close to the surface that in places we can’t swim over it, only around it.
Heading north again, we veer off the main highway and follow an old trade route known as the King’s Highway.
It takes us up steep inclines with big views over the Great Rift Valley. We’re en route to Petra, one of the new seven wonders of the world.
The next day we’re up before the sun to enter this popular attraction before everyone else.
The narrow entry Siq, with its curvaceous red walls, is empty and it’s easy to imagine traders once riding through here on camels laden with spices from India, incense from Arabia and silk from China.
Carved into the sandstone rock, Petra’s vast complex of tombs and temples are magnificently preserved, despite erosion from rain and windblown sand. Even the Nabataean channels continue to divert water during flash floods.
After climbing 800 steps to the carved facade known as the Monastery — which is more impressive than the famous Treasury — we leave Petra by the back door, on a path that connects to the Jordan Trail.
“It’s a highway now” deplores one of our local guides, which makes me laugh because — despite the recent widening of the trail for tourists — we still encounter some narrow sections with steep drop-offs, one of which has a woman in our group literally clinging to the rocky side.
The views keep us in awe most of the way to Little Petra, where we sleep soundly that night in woven goat-hair tents at another Bedouin camp.
Our tour ends at the Dead Sea, just down the road from the waterfalls of Wadi Mujib. Wrapped in mud — a signature spa treatment here — I ponder all we’ve seen and done.