Jordan & Petra ( Part I )

My legs were aching as I climbed up the steep path leading to the Sacrifice Place, high above Petra. The morning had started early and being one of the very first people in I enjoyed the ancient city nearly alone. The tourists would flock a few hours later, but for now it was me, my new hiking friend from England (a young and active girl I had just met in the Siq), a few camels, a herd of goats and just a handful of local herders and trinket sellers. After poking our heads inside a few tombs, climbing a tortuous path through narrow passages and stopping at the edge of a cliff where we could take a photo with our feet dangling over nothing for a few hundred meters down we arrived to the summit. I took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and inhaled the dry beauty of the harsh landscape. High on the hills, with an horizon that seemed to be so far away, surrounded by desert and red rocks we sat down on the edge of another cliff and let our eyes and skin absorb this rugged beauty. Down below we could see goats and the occasional camel roaming around, locals starting to set up their selling tents and the sun growing brighter and harsher by the minute. I wasn’t feeling in the mood for vast landscape photography, somehow I couldn’t find that exciting framing point for a good wide-angle. I could see the beauty with my eyes but I could not see it in the viewfinder. I supposed this is one type of beauty that has to be lived in person. I limited myself to taking a few wide unexciting shots and concentrated more on details like the stripes on the rocks, which I thought were beautiful. The lines and gentle curves and swirls of red to white tones made the perfect subject for texture photography and my excitement grew the more photos I took. I loved the warm tones of the rock but in my mind I could also picture this in B&W, and that’s a bonus when a photo works well in color as well as monochrome.
As we took a different trail, the way down was just as long as the way up, if not longer. A young guy crossed our path with his heard and looking at my hiking companion, or more like a open mouth stare (she is beautiful, indeed, and she must look extremely exotic to the Middle-Easterners), first told me I was a lucky guy (the ever present assumption that a man and a woman traveling together must be married) and then asked me how many camels I would trade her for. Images of Lawrence of Arabia danced in my mind, seeing myself going back home with two brand new camels, but I politely declined the offer and laughed with my new friend when I told her what had just happened. We both wondered if he meant it or if he was mocking us. Either way, it was a fun moment. Minutes later we arrived to the main road, which was like a large avenue dotted with marble columns and bid our farewells.

(to be continued)