Petra, day 3

Awoke at a bit more reasonable time today, realizing that an early start wouldn't happen. Another delicious breakfast, and another stop for hummus and falafel. We decided to explore Petra's city center, which we did. We meandered along and posed in front of the tri-partite arch . Meandering along, we came to the Great Temple Complex and I, at least, had a grand time clambering over rocks. From there, to Qasr Al-Bint (Castle of the Girl), a large freestanding temple. According to legend, the princess said she would marry the man who could give it running water. I suppose human nature never changes. Human nature being what it is, I amused myself by discovering a slightly hidden doorway and going through it, climbing steps to climb onto the top of the building, walking around its crumbling roof walls to get a lovely view.

A hot walk to see some Byzantine churches - one in which a Spanish Roman Catholic group was holding a service (it was Sunday, after all) - and then on for a walk through the desert in order to get to some more tomb complexes.

And can I here insert what a trooper my traveling companion was? No complaints, even when I dragged her through the desert with no real path in sight. I had a marvelous time, but I don't think it was quite her idea of fun. However, I regaled her with the stories of what I was pretending as we trekked through the sand at noonday: I was the wife of a Roman general, station in Petra following its annexation by Trajan (in 106 A.D.) We had just returned from offering our sacrifices and libations in the Great Temple and from getting our meat from the macellum. A quick stop at the Nymphaeum, and now we were trudging back to our cool home cleft in the rocks. She was my slave, the daughter of a proud Nabataean family who had resisted the annexation. However, her lover was a proud Bedouin man who would eventually come to raid the proud Romans, destroying half the city and rescuing her to live with him in the desert. Their children would eventually come to live in the Badea and assist Lawrence with the Arab Revolt; their reward would be a rich piece of land in the place that would become the capital of the new country.

As we got farther in the desert, I imagined being lost and stranded there for days, dying a slow and painful death - eventually becoming nothing more than the bleached white bones of the goat we saw. I did not, however, tell my friend this. She might have killed me.

At her prompting, we found a nice cave - one or two of the tombs we had come to had been taken over by the goats - and had our lunch. We emerged to do some more exploring, making our way over to the more accessible town facade. This time I amused myself by pretending to be in Bedrock, on my way to visit the Flintstones.

Finally we reached the main tomb complex again, and made our way back to town. We puttered about for awhile, waiting until we could get on the bus that would take us back to Amman.

Petra rocks!