Petra, Day I

...So, we left after school on Wednesday and headed to Eilat.  We spent the night at a Christian hostel called "The Shelter."  The room itself was not so great (it was clean though), but the people there were super sweet & that made it a really nice place to stay.  We got up Thursday & headed for the Jordanian border.  We got through fine, though they searched my bags (only mine - ??), and then we had to take a taxi to Aqaba.  Little did we know that this would be the first, but not the last time we would get taken advantage of during our 4 day adventure.  We asked the driver to take us to the central bus station in Aqaba and he told us that it was a holiday - Mohammed's birthday, I think - and that the bus station was closed.  He offered to take us all the way to Petra for a "good price."  The thing is that we had a friend call beforehand and ask about the bus schedule and so we knew that the buses were running.  We insisted that He take us to the bus station & it was obvious that he didn't want to.  He took us to a place where there were some big buses parked and so we paid him and got out and he left.  Then we discovered that he hadn't taken us to the bus station at all, but he had dropped us off in front of a hotel with buses parked in front of it.  Jerk!  So we had to tote our luggage for more than half a mile not knowing where we were going, but some friendly people pointed us in the right direction & we finally made it to the bus station.  The station wasn't very impressive & the buses were very small, but it was only 4 Jordanian dinar, or JD, to go to Petra, so we didn't complain.  It took more than a couple of hours driving through the desert with nothing around except a few camels here and there, but we finally made it to Petra.  We took a taxi from the bus station to our hotel, put our bags in our rooms, and then headed to "Little Petra."  It's a much smaller version of Petra, but it's still really cool.  We came upon a high, hewn-out monument with a couple of Bedouins hanging out at the entrance.  They asked us if we wanted to come up & I said yes thinking that there were stairs to walk up.  The guys informed me that there were no stairs and the only way to get up there was to climb up.  (I quickly discovered that Bedouins in Petra are expert rock climbers; they're like mountain goats in sandals. Seriously, they're amazing.)  Michael went up and then I tried.  Now, I'm no expert rock climber - if I can get my feet over and onto something, I'm good, but I had never attempted to climb the face of a rock before.  I didn't think it looked that difficult & so I had a go at it, only to quickly discover that this was going to be much harder than it looked.  I actually got a little nervous because I knew that if I fell I would get seriously injured.  I went back and forth for a few minutes trying to climb & then deciding not to because it wasn't worth killing myself over.  The two Bedouins offered to help me up.  One climbed up and the other stayed at the bottom & the plan was for the upper guy to hold my hands and pull and the lower one to hold my feet and push.  Again, I was really nervous because I wouldn' t have any control over, well, anything really.  I finally just gave up & let them help me & they got me up to a part that I could climb myself.I had to hug the rock for dear life, but I made it.  It was such a great feeling; the theme music to Rocky was playing in my head, you know, when he makes it up the stairs, & the monument was pretty great too.  I made friends with the helpful Bedouin gentlemen, enjoyed the adrenaline rush for a bit, & then we headed back down. The descent was an adventure as well; Wilma got several lovely pics of that part of the climb and of my male attendants who made sure that I didn't fall.  It was a pretty pathetic attempt at rock climbing - my brother probably would've laughed - but I was pleased.  Anyway, we were now friends with the Bedouins & so they walked with us the rest of our time there.  They led us through a narrow canyon wall and up to some breathtaking views.  One of the Bedouins showed me where he stays (he doesn't live there all year, just in the spring and summer) and he basically invited me to stay up there in the rocks and live with him.  He said that the sunsets were always beautiful and that it's wonderful to sleep under the stars every night.  I have to admit that it did sound pretty tempting in a way - the lifestyle, not the guy - but I declined his offer.  The time came to head back to the hotel;  Abdullah, my Bedouin "boyfriend," took a picture of me with his cell phone (yes, he had a really nice cell phone - everyone here does), and then we all said good-bye.  We went out to eat that night and stopped at a store on the walk back to the hotel.  It was here that I met a second gentleman (blue eyes are like gold over here, ladies!) who, after a bit of introductory conversation, invited me to come to his cave in Little Petra for some nice music, dancing, and drinks under the moonlight.  I guess all the men there have their own caves.  Anyway, this guy was really, really cute and I was blushing terribly - he was so charming that I actually got a little light-headed.  Wilma was with me and was thoroughly enjoying my embarrassment.  She bought a diet coke and I grabbed her arm & we walked out as he was still trying to talk me into a romantic evening in a moonlit cave.  It took me half the night to stop blushing...