Walking along the dusty, and bustling main road through Petra's centuries old ruins, I marveled at how such a magnificent city could be carved out of stone and rock without the assistance of modern day tools, machines, or technology! At first glance, it looked like an elaborate set from a Hollywood action adventure movie. Could Petra have been the inspiration for the Indiana Jones Temple of Doom attraction at Universal Studios, Hollywood? Perhaps! Concluding our two hour walking tour at the Petra museum, our guide thanked us, wished us an enjoyable holiday, waved goodbye, and disappeared into the crowd. Feeling both happy and exhausted, we unanimously concluded that we did not have the energy to travel another two hours to the monastery. Engaging in friendly banter, and rehashing the highlights of the tour, we embarked upon the hour long walk back to the main entrance.
Next and final stop: The Dead Sea. As we drove along the winding and newly paved mountain roads on our way to the Dead Sea, I experienced a mild sensation of deja vu. This was due to the fact that the rocky and mountainous desert terrain on my right, and the azure blue waters of the Dead Sea on my left, bared a slight resemblance to parts of the drive north along Pacific Coast Highway in California. Stopping to take a photo shoot of the Dead Sea from the bluffs on which we were standing, our driver pointed out the cities of Jericho, and Jerusalem, which appeared so far away, they were barely distinguishable without the aid of binoculars.
The Movenpick Resort, Aqaba, which is situated along the beach of the Dead Sea, was both elegant and spacious. After checking into the hotel at about 2:30 p.m., I made a last minute decision to take a tour of Jesus' baptismal site. One of my traveling companions had become ill with bronchitis after our tour of Petra, and feeling guilty about leaving her alone, I was hesitant to go. Assuring me that she would be alright, and that she was planning on spending our last day in Jordan sleeping and letting the medicine that she'd taken do it's job, I decided to try and make the last tour of the day, which was at 4:00 p.m.
It was already 3:15 p.m., as Mohamed, my driver, raced along the near empty highway to the tour's meeting spot, where about 20 other people waited anxiously for the hour long tour to begin. A large white open seated bus pulled up to the waiting area, and we all piled on like excited school children going on their first field trip. Upon exiting the bus, we were briskly greeted by our guide and lead along a narrow and dusty road past the Modern Orthodox Church dedicated to St. John the Baptist. We took a few quick photos of the church, and scurried along like squirrels behind our Muslim guide, whose accent was so thick, I could barely understand him. Our next stop was at Jesus' baptism site near the Jordan River . The water where Jesus was baptized from the river had dried up and receeded years ago. All that was left was a hole in the ground that resembled an open grave.
Our guide allowed us another brief photo shoot and urged us onward toward the Jordan River. Not only did it seem as though he was tired and anxious for the last tour of the day to end so that he could go home and relax, I got the impression that being Muslim, he wasn't the least bit interested in conducting a tour related to Christianity. Oh, how I longed to have a Christian guide conducting the tour! Venturing down to the Jordan River, we were permitted to briefly dip our hands and feet in the murky and muddy water, and then quickly rushed along the dusty narrow road back to the tour bus that was anxiously awaiting our arrival. Although I am happy to have had the opportunity to visit such a holy and spiritual place, I am disappointed that I was not allowed more time to reflect, meditate, and pray with my fellow Christians at this amazing site.
Still wallowing in frustration and dissatisfaction with my tour, I looked forward to finding solace and comfort floating in the salty waters of the Dead Sea. After Mohamed dropped me off at my hotel room, I quickly undressed and threw on my bathing suit, and followed Marian, my other travel companion, down to the seashore. Like a child playing in the mud, I slathered delicious, black mud (known for its medicinal qualities) from the Dead Sea all over my skin and raced down to the water. "Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" I cried out as the rocky sea floor hurt my feet as I stumbled over them even though I was wearing shower shoes!. Undeterred, I plopped onto my back like a turtle that has been flipped over on its shell and floated. Ahhh!!!! Totally relaxed and marveling at the sun setting behind the hills of Israel/Palestine in the distance, I thought to myself, "What a fantastic ending to an exhausting day!"
BEEP! BEEP!! BEEP!! I was jolted from my state of bliss by the sound of the lifeguard's shrill whistle as he called for everyone to get out of the water. What the...?? It was 7 p.m. and the beach was closing!! Damn! I hadn't even been in the water for fifteen minutes! Not going to be rushed out the the water the way that I was rushed through the baptism site, I ignored him (he eventually left) and continued to lie there floating blissfully as the sun continued to set in the distance. Ahhh!! What a wonderful way to end both the day and my trip to Jordan...
Next and final stop: The Dead Sea. As we drove along the winding and newly paved mountain roads on our way to the Dead Sea, I experienced a mild sensation of deja vu. This was due to the fact that the rocky and mountainous desert terrain on my right, and the azure blue waters of the Dead Sea on my left, bared a slight resemblance to parts of the drive north along Pacific Coast Highway in California. Stopping to take a photo shoot of the Dead Sea from the bluffs on which we were standing, our driver pointed out the cities of Jericho, and Jerusalem, which appeared so far away, they were barely distinguishable without the aid of binoculars.The Movenpick Resort, Aqaba, which is situated along the beach of the Dead Sea, was both elegant and spacious. After checking into the hotel at about 2:30 p.m., I made a last minute decision to take a tour of Jesus' baptismal site. One of my traveling companions had become ill with bronchitis after our tour of Petra, and feeling guilty about leaving her alone, I was hesitant to go. Assuring me that she would be alright, and that she was planning on spending our last day in Jordan sleeping and letting the medicine that she'd taken do it's job, I decided to try and make the last tour of the day, which was at 4:00 p.m.
It was already 3:15 p.m., as Mohamed, my driver, raced along the near empty highway to the tour's meeting spot, where about 20 other people waited anxiously for the hour long tour to begin. A large white open seated bus pulled up to the waiting area, and we all piled on like excited school children going on their first field trip. Upon exiting the bus, we were briskly greeted by our guide and lead along a narrow and dusty road past the Modern Orthodox Church dedicated to St. John the Baptist. We took a few quick photos of the church, and scurried along like squirrels behind our Muslim guide, whose accent was so thick, I could barely understand him. Our next stop was at Jesus' baptism site near the Jordan River . The water where Jesus was baptized from the river had dried up and receeded years ago. All that was left was a hole in the ground that resembled an open grave.
Our guide allowed us another brief photo shoot and urged us onward toward the Jordan River. Not only did it seem as though he was tired and anxious for the last tour of the day to end so that he could go home and relax, I got the impression that being Muslim, he wasn't the least bit interested in conducting a tour related to Christianity. Oh, how I longed to have a Christian guide conducting the tour! Venturing down to the Jordan River, we were permitted to briefly dip our hands and feet in the murky and muddy water, and then quickly rushed along the dusty narrow road back to the tour bus that was anxiously awaiting our arrival. Although I am happy to have had the opportunity to visit such a holy and spiritual place, I am disappointed that I was not allowed more time to reflect, meditate, and pray with my fellow Christians at this amazing site.Still wallowing in frustration and dissatisfaction with my tour, I looked forward to finding solace and comfort floating in the salty waters of the Dead Sea. After Mohamed dropped me off at my hotel room, I quickly undressed and threw on my bathing suit, and followed Marian, my other travel companion, down to the seashore. Like a child playing in the mud, I slathered delicious, black mud (known for its medicinal qualities) from the Dead Sea all over my skin and raced down to the water. "Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" I cried out as the rocky sea floor hurt my feet as I stumbled over them even though I was wearing shower shoes!. Undeterred, I plopped onto my back like a turtle that has been flipped over on its shell and floated. Ahhh!!!! Totally relaxed and marveling at the sun setting behind the hills of Israel/Palestine in the distance, I thought to myself, "What a fantastic ending to an exhausting day!"
BEEP! BEEP!! BEEP!! I was jolted from my state of bliss by the sound of the lifeguard's shrill whistle as he called for everyone to get out of the water. What the...?? It was 7 p.m. and the beach was closing!! Damn! I hadn't even been in the water for fifteen minutes! Not going to be rushed out the the water the way that I was rushed through the baptism site, I ignored him (he eventually left) and continued to lie there floating blissfully as the sun continued to set in the distance. Ahhh!! What a wonderful way to end both the day and my trip to Jordan...
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