Carve until you die...

The entrance to Petra through the siq, or gorge.
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Petra, Petra, Petra. Has anybody ever heard of Petra? Or how about the Nabataeans? Ok, I bet you´ve heard of Petra, but the Nabataeans were all new to me. Appearantly they were the dominant historical tribe that carved most of the great monuments in the valleys. The monuments themselves, for the most part, are considered by the experts (you know, the experts, the ones who are more qualified to guess about history than you or I) to be tombs. The Nabataeans did not live in them at all, they lived in the city at the bottom of the valley. All of the great and small carvings were carved by the owner of that piece of rock for the purposes of having a nice place to lie down when they decided to DIE. All their lives they would carve away at the rock or, in the case of the rich ones, have somebody else carve away in your families name. Can you imagine spending all your extra time carving a big hole in the side of a beautiful cliff in order to have a place for you, and maybe your family, to spend the rest of eternity. And after all that effort to be laid down in your tomb only to be tossed out by the Berbers. The Berbers lived in the tombs after the Nabataeans disappeared. They lived there until the late 1800´s and were finally ousted so that the tourists could have a go.

The first sight in Petra. Al Khazneh, or The Treasury.
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As a tourist I am very glad that I had a go. The rock formations here are beautiful reds, browns and greys swirling as only molten rock can swirl. And the carved tombs show influence from both Egyptian and Roman architecture. We had a guide who told us lots of historical information and took a liking to Lily. I am sure he would have happily given at least 10 camels to have her for one of his wives. He doesn´t actually have one yet, but I am sure that he is hopeful.

All their lives they would carve away at the rock

Zip and Howler enjoying the sites.
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Unfortunately the second day of running all over the ruins of Petra was cancelled as Julia and myself were both dog sick. This 3 days long illness also eliminated the trip to Wadi Rum, a desert valley set aside specifically to please the palette of adventure seeking tourists. Í wasn´t interested in running behind a pile of sand every 20 minutes to relieve myself in front of some camels. By the time we got better we were ready to go to Amman, the capitol of Jordan, and try our luck getting into Syria.