The next morning we took off for Petra with our very nice and laid-back cab driver. We saw Amman in morning light, and though its buildings are ordinary in design the brilliant white sandstone gave them a certain beauty against the backdrop of rolling desert mountains. On the southern outskirts of town, the view to the west, which included the King Abdullah’s residence at the top of a hill, was fantastic. Our first stop was Mount Nebo, where Moses died. The story goes that he had guided the Israelites from Egypt, climbed to the top of this mountain, saw the Promised Land, then as God had willed it he died without ever reaching that land himself. The spot, now somehow owned and run by a European Christian group, houses a church and a small museum. Standing at the edge of the peak and seeing the Dead Sea towards the left, the broad valley with oases of green below, and the sweeping brown mountains dominating all around, you could imagine what Moses must have felt at that moment. Vivek brought up the point that such a “promised land” must have been so much greener a few thousand years ago. Nonetheless, it still captivates. In the church, old mosaics and pillars remain from the original church. We enjoyed the coolness of the building while a string quartet played from the altar.
We descended down a windy road to the edge of the Jordan River to see the spot where Jesus was baptized. As we looked at this dry unremarkable circle of earth, a knowledgeable Jordanian tour guide convincingly described the major bits of evidence pointing to this having been the exact place referred to in the Bible.
Close by were the remnants of 3 successive churches from the early Christian period. Then we finally saw the Jordan River itself, which divides Jordan and Israel. The historic body of water, apparently described in the Bible as wide and powerful, is now a puny brown stream whose days seem to be numbered.
Next stop was the Dead Sea itself. We inhaled some lunch on the beach, while chatting with our driver about various things, including politics. There were no surprises there. He doesn’t like Israel – he, like millions of Jordanians, is a Palestinian himself and would move back in a minute if there were any opportunities or security there. Leaning over towards me and whispering, he added “I like Saddam”. After I told him that I quite disliked Saddam, he said “yeah, he was a little crazy.” His viewpoint seemed to corroborate what I had heard: after being hanged in the most irresponsible fashion, Saddam became a martyr for the Arab world. Of course Saddam’s last words were: “Damn the Americans, Damn the Persians.” So Iran is now uncool, and our driver’s neutral response to my mentioning that I’m Iranian contrasted with our experience in Egypt just one year earlier, where any mention of Iran brought enthusiastic praise - of course, given our disdain for the Iranian government, we think the new trend may be a good thing.
Anyway, with Kiran watching and taking great pictures, Madh, Vivek, and I very gingerly tiptoed over jagged rocks and into the cool thick waters of the Dead Sea. As the river sources of this historic sea dwindle, evaporation is causing progressive salinization, thus making the water so dense that you easily float. So we grabbed some newspapers, kicked back, and read the news - on the water! Then we covered ourselves in the “healing” mud of the sea floor, which did feel great. Vivek and I got cut up pretty nicely by those damn rocks, and we were certainly feeling the extra salt in our wounds. We drove away and watched the sun set behind the West Bank, which was breathtaking.After twisting up a mountain pass in the dark of night, we arrived in Petra. Actually that makes it sound quick. We were on this incredibly deserted very long steep road for a few hours. We even wondered (okay Kiran wondered) if we might be getting kidnapped. But we finally arrived. Our hotel, the Movenpick, was simply exquisite with the rich tile work and elegant inlay wood furniture being particularly memorable. The next day, after a delicious buffet breakfast, we walked into ancient Petra.
This lost city, which Jordan is trying to get on the new Wonders of the World list (a ridiculous international contest whereby people call in their votes on their cell phones), was the home of the Nabataean people, who made their living by initially plundering but then simply taxing the trade caravans that traversed this strategic mountain pass. They built homes, a treasury, an amphitheater, and many tombs into these colorful sheer-faced mountains. The result is stunning. Walking through the Siq Gorge as it cut a narrow winding slice over a kilometer through towering and mysteriously layered rock was unforgettable. We were so fortunate to be unprepared for the moment when we turned a corner and saw the famed Treasury building through the distant slit at the end of the gorge – simply awesome! 
We wandered around for hours, seeing impressive rock-cut work and vast desert vistas. We stopped and talked to some Bedouins, and I was surprised to learn that many of those working in Petra now had as recently as 20 years ago actually lived in caves in this ancient lost city. Now they've been resettled to apartments at the top of a nearby hill to make room for the tourists. They seem OK with it overall, as they have special access to Petra for selling handicrafts. I saw three middle-aged Bedouin men joking around, looking so traditional on the surface in their turbans and wool village clothing. I sat to talk to them, speaking slow childish English for ease of understanding when one of them responded nearly fluently by asking me where I'm from and what I do. After that, he showed me a little statuette he was selling that depicted a couple having intercourse. If that wasn't surprising enough, he then asked if there was something he could do to perform like the man in this couple. Basically, he was asking for Viagra. Cave to Viagra in 20 years. We climbed 800 steps along a cliff (Kiran and I on donkeys part of the way, which was harrowing at times) to reach the Monastery, which was probably our favorite building of Petra, beautifully preserved with perfectly round giant columns and a feeling of peace, away from those tourists who don't bother with the ascent. Sitting at the edge of this magnificent structure 5 guys played traditional Bedouin music (4 singing, 1 on the oud – a guitar-like instrument).
They were great and did it for fun, no money, no posing. We had so much fun just sitting there, drinking tea, listening to music, watching the sunset, that we left a bit late. OK, really late. Basically, we were THE LAST tourists left in Petra and it was getting dark. We walked as quickly as we could along the 4-5km path back to the main entrance, but about halfway there it got really really dark. With only the moonlight guiding us, we walked back through the Siq Gorge, over its dangerously large cobblestones and uneven surfaces and through its eerie silence. The camaraderie and adventure of that moment were fantastic. That night we had a drink in a very cool ancient cave tomb turned bar – I know it sounds tacky, but actually there are many hundreds of such cave-tombs and this one is far from the heart of the Petra itself; I think they did a great job with this place. We had a Bedouin dinner at local dive, which was tasty. The next day Kiran relaxed back at the hotel while Madh, Vivek, and I went back to Petra for a final look, which involved getting lost on the back of a mountain. Then we headed back to Amman, stopping at an ancient Crusader castle, which was closed but with guards nice enough to let us in anyway. We finished the night in Amman at that Lebanese restaurant that Kiran and Vivek liked – it was very good.
The next morning it was back to Istanbul.
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