Jordan-Oasis of Peace and Beauty continued...

Scattered through the rockscape are remnants of tombs, which look like open-mouthed caves. The Nabataeans used them for burial sites, with over 800 identified throughout Petra. Hours feel like minutes as you analyze the endless angles of the site, sipping tea if desired at one of the many rest stops. Walking through the center of Petra your mind transports you to ancient times, where negotiation must have ruled throughout the marketplace.

One last temptation awaits in Petra: the Monastery. Petra’s other famous facade, Ad-Deir, sits atop a plateau, and most locals tell you it’s a quick 15-minute, 800-step walk to the top. While I’m not a triathlete and not even in the best shape in the world, the Stairmaster is not a stranger to me. The winding trail of narrow steps seem an easy conquest, that is until you count off about 200 or so of them. At that point the $12 mule that could have taken me to the top without the fear of an eventual heart attack looked like a wise investment. Nevertheless, even if you take five minutes longer than most, reaching the top unassisted is very pleasing to the spirit and the eyes.

Less ornate than the Treasury, the Monastery is much larger, intimidating the landscape with an imposing stare that leaves your mouth agape. Out of breath, I relaxed in a plastic lounge chair with a Diet Coke, listening to my lungs fill with ancient air, my mind awash with visions of ancient craftsmen building the next tomb.

Needless to say, the walk down the slope was infinitely easier, and there was a great story to tell later to those who skipped the hike altogether.

"The Dead Sea’s main draw, besides being the lowest point on the planet, is its high salt content, which produces incredible natural products and allows bathers to bob like corks on top of the water."

THE GREAT DESERT

Our beat-up 4x4 pickup bumped past titanic stone sculptures of Wadi Rum. The rush of a week on the road and a blur of sightseeing would soon be replaced by silence as our Bedouin guide urged each of us to walk five minutes in opposite directions to find our own piece of the desert. My walk took me to a rock landscape like no other on earth. After a quick climb, I sat and heard nothing. Nothing but my thoughts. For the first time in my life, I heard absolutely nothing. It was as startling as it was refreshing and peaceful. Just me, the earth and the air. Only a passing camel gliding past me with his easy, swinging gait reminded me it was time to rejoin the group. It was humbling to be this close to nature.

The warm day gave way to a windy two-hour drive to the middle of Wadi Rum, and starlit silence was imminent. We weren’t exactly roughing it, with Bedouins to help with our bags and a dinner (prepared in the ground) just around the corner.

We were shown into a large square tent, where eight others would share the accommodations Bedouin-style, on rugs and cushions. Usually after a long drive, I would check emails, voice mails and send a dozen or so text messages, but none of that was happening here. No phones, no computers, just the age-old art of conversation, as my travel mates huddled in little cliques. The party lasted throughout dinner and Arabian dancing into the midnight hours under intense and unblinking stars.

I found a quiet spot and lay back stargazing, waiting for my first shooting star. As I watched it streak across the night, wrapped around me was a cloak of Wadi Rum serenity. I still draw on its strength today.

Morning came as quickly as the night, and as if an alarm clock were set, I rose around 4:45 well before the sun would appear. Walking out only a half mile, I found my spot to watch the sunrise, and it didn’t disappoint.

Slowly in the east the velvety blackness gave way to the deep inky blue of dirty indigo. Then as the sun struggled higher, this became the blue of a new born baby’s eyes, then a softer pink, which brought back memories of fluttering silks in a Tripoli souk, and finally as the sun began to climb majestically over the mountains which shimmered on the horizon, the deep red of traditional Chinese lanterns. A few minutes later, the sky turned the color of freshly picked oranges, and a few white wispy clouds skated nervously across it. The first true golden rays of the sun cascaded over the desert floor a hundred feet below me, turning the frost-covered sand into a sea of fiery diamonds.

I sat and watched the rays chase away the last remnants of nighttime, and a new day of life begin in Wadi Rum. The sunrise had been unmistakably beautiful and awe-inspiring. I wanted to shout and let my joy ring around the valleys, but the light looked crystalline and fragile, and I didn’t want this magical moment to shatter around me. The view stretched forever and was colored every shade of the spectrum from red to deep, deep blue. Despite the desolation of the scene and the scarcity of vegetation—only a few spiny trees seemed to thrive on the desert floor—it was a truly beautiful view. It calmed me, inspired me, and I felt at one with the large eagle who soared high above us. Both of us soared—the eagle on unseen thermals and I along with him on the view. I only need to close my eyes, and I am back there once again, speechless in wonder.

THE DEAD SEA

People travel from all over the world to slather themselves in nutrient-rich mud from the Dead Sea. Legend says it was the Queen of Sheba who first believed in the mystical healing powers of this age old sea. Then Cleopatra traveled from Egypt to build the world’s first spa there, later sending her armies in place of her to bring back their precious minerals. Today, products from this salty sea are a worldwide sensation.

The Dead Sea’s main draw, besides being the lowest point on the planet, is its high salt content, which produces incredible natural products and allows bathers to bob like corks on top of the water.

Dead Sea water contains 35 percent of minerals per liter of water, and this heavy concentration of over 21 different minerals is believed to help with skin problems like eczema and psoriasis, plus aching joints and even fluid retention. The sea contains high levels of calcium, magnesium, bromide, potassium and sulfate.

Europeans and Americans alike are discovering—or rediscovering—the Dead Sea’s famed minerals. Westerners lounge seaside wrapping themselves in the same mud Cleopatra coveted, while they are being duely pampered with a Bedouin sense of hospitality.

Once fully caked, your body is cleansed, with the gunk imbedded in your pores magically erased after a warm shoreline shower.

Despite the renaissance that the area is experiencing, the Dead Sea still has a sleepy, small-village feel, with locals blending seamlessly with tourists as plumes of smoke rise from nargilas (hookahs) along the shore. Even so, the area is clearly moving quickly toward becoming an upmarket destination, with a vibrant fitness scene, upscale spas sprouting in every luxury hotel and a major eco plan designed to revive the dying (yes!) Dead Sea.

So while it’s said that the Dead Sea is the biggest, widest natural spa on earth, three bits of advice: 1. Men don’t shave before taking a dip (women please don’t shave your legs) or you will be in agony from the irritation. 2. Don’t splash salt water in your eyes (for the same reason). 3. Don’t leave your feet in the water too long or you might become addicted to its soothing power and silky baby oil consistency.

Before heading back to the airport, I rose at 7 a.m. and took my one and only plunge into the Dead Sea, which was at the temperature of an enormous personal bath; I discovered the meaning of “happy as a clam.” There I bobbed for an hour in Jordan, alone in peaceful paradise.

 

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