We visit Petra! A childhood dream come true, a magical candlelit walk through the lost city, the fear of flash floods and a hilarious donkey ride for Matt. Our time at Petra was everything we’d hoped for – and more!

Petra – the lost city of the Nabataeans. Dating as far back as 300BC, its elaborate tombs resemble palaces cut into the mountains, reached via a long, narrow canyon. Centuries later, the Romans claimed the city as their own, building temples and paved streets. The Crusaders came after them with their string of  fortresses to defend their territory.

And then the city was forgotten. Lost for over 600 years to the desert.

Until 1812 when Johann Ludwig Burckhardt, a Swiss explorer, befriends the nomadic Bedouins and hears whispers of a magnificent forgotten city, hidden in the mountains. Pretending to be a Muslim scholar, he earns their trust, is let into the secret and shown the way to the city.

The rest is history. Rediscovered Petra is opened to the world, hailed as an archaeological wonder, attracting thousands of visitors a year.

My reason for going was embarrassingly simple – Indiana Jones. Ever since watching Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade I have wanted to go. For me, Petra is synonymous with adventure, excitement and exoticism. Expectations were high!

We were on day two of a week-long trip through Jordan. We drove to Petra from the Dead Sea, where we’d just spent a brilliant 24 hours. We followed the ancient King’s Highway for three hours through spectacular mountain scenery.

A word of caution – stay on the King’s Highway. We took a wrong turning and drove through a village near At-Tafilah where children threw rocks at us, putting a dent in the car bonnet. It really unnerved me because that rock could have gone through Herc’s window. Just kids being mischievous or something more hostile? I have no idea.

We drove on hastily, fearful of more rock attacks. But there were none.

People visiting Petra stay in Wadi Musa, the town that has grown up next to it. There are numerous hotels to suit all budgets. We booked late so our two nights in Wadi Musa were in different places. We arrived at sunset and checked into our first hotel, Petra Nights.

Petra Nights had clearly seen better days. From the look of the plug sockets and the loud electrical snap that kept resounding around reception, I had serious doubts about safety at this hotel. But at this late hour there was nowhere else to go.

More urgent was getting to Petra in time for Petra by Night, a candlelit spectacle in front of its most famous monument, the Treasury. We’d bought a Jordan Pass online the week before. This gets you into loads of places free (including two days at Petra) and is cheaper if you buy in advance. We paid 75 Jordanian Dinar (JD) – around £80 per adult. Petra by Night isn’t covered by the Jordan Pass (it’s only on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays) and you can’t buy tickets in advance so we bought ours from our hotel when we arrived for 17 JD.

We raced through dinner and arrived bang on 8pm at Petra’s grand entrance where there’s a visitors’ centre and shops. I eyed the Mövenpick and Petra Guest House hotels longingly. They were brilliantly located right next to the entrance – and looked like they wouldn’t burn down. If you can afford it, stay there.

We showed our tickets at the gate and walked down a track lit by hundreds of candles. We could see shadowy forms of tombs and caves rising up on either side of us.

After a 10-minute walk, the path disappeared into what looked like a large black cave. This was the entrance to the Siq – a 1.2km canyon cutting through the rock. Candles shone in the darkness. I was as excited about walking the Siq as seeing what lay at the end of it. Around us was the hum of voices as other visitors made their way along the narrow, twisting path.

We walked for 20 minutes, Herc asleep in the sling. We rounded a corner and the Siq came to an abrupt end. We were met by a magnificent sight.

That first glimpse of the Treasury was – literally – breathtaking. A lump rose in my throat and for a minute I thought I was going to cry. Here it was, the stuff of ancient legends and modern movies. It towered over us, its grandeur and exquisite craftsmanship belying its age. I was in awe – precisely what the Nabataeans intended I’m sure.

In front of the Treasury, hundreds of people were sitting down, watching musicians playing hauntingly beautiful music on traditional instruments. Everyone spoke in whispers, mesmerised by the beauty of the place, illuminated by the changing colours of the lights. We joined them, accepting a cup of sweet tea that was being offered around.

We weren’t there for more than 30 minutes before it finished. I think perhaps the show started at 8pm rather than the gates opening at 8pm – and by the time we reached the Treasury it was gone 9pm. If you go, check the timings with the Visitors’ Centre because I’ve seen various times online.

We walked back, the Siq illuminated by moonlight. Magical.

I couldn’t wait for the morning when we’d have the whole day to explore Petra properly.

The general advice for visiting Petra is to get there as early as possible when it’s cooler and not as busy. But visiting in October turned out to be perfect, temperature-wise. The temperature was in the 20s, so we could be more relaxed about spending the whole day there – we didn’t need to get out of the sun.

The first thing we did when we arrived at the Visitors’ Centre the next morning was study the map of the route. I realised the main thing we had to worry about was how the heck would we see it all? It’s massive! We were all tired after the night before and I wasn’t sure how Goobie would fare.

So we decided to do the sensible thing : just start walking and not think about it.

I’ve been told by neighbours that you can pick up a guide at the Visitors’ Centre who will show you around Petra. We didn’t use a guide as we weren’t certain how the day would pan out with Goobie and Herc. We decided to soak up the atmosphere and read up on the history later.

We walked through the gates and followed the same route as before, excited as we passed impressive tombs that had been mere shadows the previous night.

Soon we were walking back down the Siq. In the daytime it looked even more impressive, cutting like a snake through the canyon, formed from layers of multicoloured rock. It was hard not to spend the day just there, photographing its beautiful shapes, smoothed by ancient waters.

There are Nabataean carvings to look out for in the Siq, the odd tomb and parts of the ancient stone pathway that would have lined it.

Once again we caught that magnificent glimpse of the Treasury as we stepped out of the Siq. In daylight you get a better appreciation of its carvings. We stopped to soak up the sight and get the obligatory tourist shot.

We walked on, past massive openings to tombs. The air smelled of animals – donkeys, camels and horses. We were offered countless rides, which we turned down. We wanted to explore.

We walked past the Treasury and through the Outer Siq, along the Street of Façades, its walls lined with carved entrances to tombs. We continued on, past a huge amphitheatre carved into the rock. Above we saw people and donkeys climbing up to the High Place of Sacrifice, where the Nabataeans sacrificed their animals. I wanted to follow them but I was mindful of Goobie’s stamina.

There was so much to take in, we didn’t know where to start. Followers of my blog will know my love of exploring tombs and caves. And here I was, faced with dozens. It was overwhelming.

In the end, Goobie and I picked some tombs carved into startlingly red marbled rock. All the rocks are a collection of reds, oranges, browns and yellows, but these tombs were something else.

Goobie and I spent a happy half hour exploring all the nooks and crannies, while Matt and Herc chilled out below. Goobie needed the break from the constant walking and together we searched the ground for ancient pottery.

There had been no time to organise a packed lunch, so we bought some snacks from one of the makeshift cafes lining the street. If you’re on a budget, don’t buy food in Petra – it’s really expensive. A few drinks plus some chocolate and crisps costs around 20 JD. That’s about £23!!

There are stalls selling souvenirs along the way. They achieved a rare thing for tourist shops – they didn’t seem tacky or overly commercialised. The dusty, rustic nature of the stalls added to the atmosphere. With the crowds and animals milling around them, I imagined what the city would have been like thousands of years ago.

Over lunch we discussed what to do next. Petra is a huge site. There was no way we could see it all. Matt felt he’d seen all he wanted to but I didn’t want to leave without visiting the Monastery, the second-most recognisable monument in Petra. The only problem was that it is the furthest away.

And it had started to rain.

So we decided to go by camel to the Monastery. It would be fun for me and Goobie and save Goobie’s energy for the walk back. Matt’s not fussed about camels so he was happy to ride a donkey with Herc, which seemed a safer option. According to Matt, the price was ‘shitloads’ – I think 30 JD each for a return journey of about an hour. Probably ripped off, but we find haggling deeply embarrassing!

We tried to chose our animals carefully. Some are better cared for than others. Our donkey was broad and in good condition. Ditto the camels. But they didn’t all look in good condition. Don’t use the horses, particularly the ones pulling carriages. We witnessed many of them being very harshly treated. Pushed on to rush down the Siq, their carriages bumping over the uneven surfaces. At best it would have been uncomfortable for the horses, if not painful. And I didn’t see a single passenger who looked happy to be there. Most looked terrified.

As we climbed onto our steeds, the rain started chucking it down. And we only had one umbrella. Goobie and I sat proudly on our camels, getting soaked, while Matt followed up the rear clutching the brolly in one hand and holding onto the donkey with the other. Uncomfortable and looking a tad embarrassed, he was led through the throngs of tourists by our Bedouin guide.

To me, it was the funniest sight ever.

From our vantage point, we had the chance to look around, catching sight of the stunning Royal Tombs further up the hill. I knew we wouldn’t get a chance to climb up to them and, not for the first time, lamented how short our trip to Jordan was. We could have done with at least two whole days in Petra.

Our rides lasted about 30 minutes, taking us past the Roman ruins on the site, down the Colonnaded Street with its impressive pillars, past the Great Temple and through the Arched Gate. I’ve been spoiled by the many amazing Roman ruins in Cyprus, so I wasn’t bothered about getting off the camel for a closer look. Instead, I was interested in what our Bedouin guide was telling us about his life. He and his family used to live in a cave in Petra until 1985 when Petra was turned into a National Park and the Bedouin were forced to move. It seemed sad that the people who’d kept Petra’s secret for hundreds of years had to move out of it.

Soon we saw steps leading up into the rocky hills. This was where we were to dismount.

‘I will come back for you in two hours,’ our guide told us.

Two hours?! I’d told Matt we’d just have a quick look at the Monastery.

‘Families need at least two hours,’ our guide went on to explain. ‘There are 900 steps.’

900 STEPS??!!

And it was still raining.

But having spent shitloads on our animals to take us to the Monastery, it would have been a waste not to actually see the Monastery. Though it scuppered the whole energy-saving plan.

‘Do you want a donkey to take you up?’ our guide offered.

As we started our ascent, I was continually thankful that I’d said no to the donkey. We climbed up uneven steps cut into the rock, with numerous switchbacks and steep drops to the right. Frequently we heard the clattering of hooves as a donkey hurried past – and we didn’t have much time to get out of the way! The donkeys were clearly so familiar with the steps that they knew exactly where to walk. But I wouldn’t have wanted to ride them, despite knowing how to ride. The uneven ground and the smooth rocks – a stumble or a saddle-slip could unseat you and, in some places, you are right on the edge.

As with the horse and carriages, I didn’t see a single rider who looked happy. Nearly all looked scared.

As we climbed higher, the scenery was stunning. We saw a few more tombs and some hidden gullies but we didn’t stop, mindful of the hundreds of steps ahead of us.

On the way up we passed makeshift stalls selling souvenirs and refreshments. One even had a toilet.

‘Don’t use it,’ the stall owner said. ‘It’s very dirty.’ But I was busting.

By Glastonbury Festival standards, that toilet was pristine.

And then we heard a rumble and the heavens opened. The earlier downpour on the camels had fizzled to a spitting of rain. But now it was back, harder than ever, and it had brought thunder too.

We dived under one of the stalls and sat on a long bench set up for weary tourists. As the rain hammered on the roof, I fed Herc, hoping that it would ease soon. It was mid-afternoon and we hadn’t reached the top yet.

And as the rain continued to chuck it down, I started to worry about flash floods. I’d read that these sorts of areas can be susceptible to flooding. I looked up at the sheer rock face around us and knew there would be nowhere to run if a flash flood roared down the steps. I looked at Herc feeding peacefully in my arms and, not for the first time in his life, berated myself for putting him at risk. I tried to dismiss the fears as the product of an over-active imagination and sent out thanks that at least there wasn’t any lightning.

Some days later, we learned that while we were waiting out the rain in Petra, 21 children had died in a flash flood at the Zara Maeen hot springs near the Dead Sea. An appalling tragedy. I can’t stop thinking about their devastated families.

Finally the rain stopped and, as we carried on upwards, I felt the knot of tension in my stomach dissolve.

Without the threat of rain, the rest of the way up was fun. Within 20 minutes we crested the hill and walked into an open space. And there to our right, towering over us, was the Monastery. Magnificent.

There’s a brilliantly located cave cafe nearby where you can sit and rest your weary feet while soaking up the vision of grandeur in front of you. The Monastery wasn’t really a monastery. It is thought to have been a temple, though no one’s certain.

We stopped for tea and snacks and gave Herc a chance to stretch his legs after being in the sling for so long.

And then it was time to go. To climb the 900 steps downwards, past the donkeys, past the stalls, past the gullies. Always with the incredible view in front of us.

At least two hours after saying goodbye to our camels and donkey, we caught a glimpse of them waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. It was a welcomed sight.

The animals took us all the way back to the Treasury and from there we continued on foot, back along the Siq, back to the Visitors’ Centre and the modern world.

The Petra Guest House sits to the left of the gates that lead out of the park. In front of it is a fabulous cave bar. We stopped for a well-earned glass of wine (for us), a chill out (for Goobie) and a crawl around (for Herc). I loved the atmosphere there. The perfect end to our time in Petra.

Except that wasn’t quite the end. It was time to head to the Seven Wonders Bedouin Camp for our second night at Petra.

We drove a few kilometres in pitch darkness into the desert. Then, tucked around a rocky hill, we could see hundreds of lights and dozens of black and white Bedouin tents. This was where we were spending the night.

We received a warm welcome and invited into the dining tent for a traditional buffet meal. Then we were shown to our tent. We followed little pathways, walked beneath archways, past an immaculately clean shower block and on to our tent. Inside were three beds with thick warm blankets on top.

After our day of adventuring, I had the best nights’ sleep in weeks.

Which was just as well because the next day we had to leave early for the next leg of our trip:

The Red Sea!

****Two weeks after visiting Petra and while I was in the middle of writing this post, Jordan experienced devastating flooding which caused tragic loss of life. Flash floods hit Wadi Musa and swept down the Siq and through Petra. 4000 visitors had to be evacuated. While I’m grateful that we weren’t caught up in this, I feel saddened for those whose lives and livelihood have been affected by this tragedy. I hope they are able to recover quickly.****