When I decided to book a three-week trip over the Christmas and New Year’s holidays, what I hadn’t anticipated was spending a night out getting shitfaced (falling down drunk on Nashville’s Broadway and having a homeless man pick me up) for my birthday the day before I boarded a 14-hour flight to Jordan. But alas, that’s exactly what I did, and walked the few blocks home alone at 3am, crying on the phone, and barely making it to work for a few hours before catching that international flight.
All of this to say, it should’ve come as no surprise that as I sat at the JFK airport on my layover, that scratchy throat and cough I had wasn’t just a result of a bad night–it was the beginnings of a nasty cold that would last me most of that three-week trip. I loaded up with as much overpriced medication that I could get my hands on at the airport and immediately started taking them, but none of that helped. I arrived in Jordan sicker than I had been in a few years, and to make matters worse, I was sharing a room with a stranger and we were moving every few days to new locations.
One of the things I’d most looked forward to about going to Jordan was visiting Petra bt night. I just had this beautiful vision in my mind of the Treasury illuminated with hundreds of candles arranged in the red sand and musicians playing ethereal music. To prepare myself for the trek in to the Treasury, I rested up most of the day, missing out on some of the sites along the way there all so I could conserve my energy for the almost 2-mile round-trip walk to see Petra by night.
The walk in was lovely. Most of the people hurriedly walked and talked in hushed tones along the long, winding path of Petra’s Siq, which was lined with luminary bags. There was just enough light to see what kind of ground you were walking on (the pathway’s texture changes multiple times along the way) and to cast eerie shadows on the gorge walls.
When you finally arrive, it’s nothing short of magical. It was my first time seeing the Treasury (I went back to see it in the day the following day) and it was exactly as I had imagined it. There were rows and rows of candles perfectly placed in front of the Treasury, casting this gorgeous warm glow on the orange sandstone rock it was carved into. When you enter, Bedouins give you a small cup of tea and quietly tell you to find a place to sit among the candles. You find your spot on the sand, sip your tea, listen to the musicians, and watch the light show, which changes the color of the facade from orange to blue, purple, green, etc. The show itself doesn’t last very long, and when it’s over, you gather your things and head back the way you came.
I don’t know if it was the excitement on the way in that made the walk easier or if it was actually just more difficult coming out, but given that my sickness had moved into my chest by this point, I was having serious difficulty breathing. I had to stop every few minutes and lean against a wall to catch my breath, or take a break and sit on a little ledge and try to breathe deep. When you finally make your way out of the gorge, it’s more wide open and there are more seating options. You also see that there’s a little road there that people drive in and out on. It just so happened that while I was sitting there catching my breath, a man in a truck pulled up and saw me. He pulled over and asked if I was okay and if I needed some help. He offered to drive me out to the end of the Siq, where I could grab my bus back to my hotel.
I weighed my options–die from illness and not being able to catch my breath on the way out, or be potentially killed by this stranger in a truck. I decided I’d rather be killed. I hurriedly hopped in the truck with him and took the bumpy ride back to the gates. Along the way, I learned this guy was the flautist in band that played for us in front of the Treasury that evening. He also requested that we be friends on Facebook (declined) and that I go out with him for coffee the following day (declined). (At the time, I told him I’d both accept his friendship and the coffee and that we’d arrange all of that when I got back to my hotel on WiFi. As a woman alone in a foreign country, in a truck with a stranger, I decided it was better to agree to all of this than to ruffle any feathers. It all worked out because I lived to tell this tale.)
I realize that it was probably an incredibly stupid decision to accept a ride like that and I don’t recommend that any other solo traveler ever do that, but I often follow my gut when I travel and that time, it put me in the truck.
Logistics for Petra by Night:
- Wear comfortable shoes that you can walk on any terrain with (there’s dirt, sand, rocks, large flat stones, etc.)
- Wear clothes you don’t mind getting dirty or bring something to sit on
- It costs about $25 USD
- There are a lot of people, so set your expectations
- The show only lasts about 20-30 minutes, so again, set your expectations
- The walk when leisurely takes about 40 minutes each way
- A lot of reviews I’ve read say people don’t think it was worth it. I did, but it was also my first time seeing Petra (I hadn’t been during the day yet) and I did a lot of research to handle my expectations of it. I recommend you do the same.
