Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Jabal Al-Najr (Arabic for: Biting Off More Than You Can Chew)

For our second day at Petra, I decided we would undertake our own hiking tour to the Jabal Al-Najr, which was the Nabatean High Place of Sacrifice. The book said the climb was not be attempted if you "were not physically fit" and that "the drop over the edge is fatal, but the views are splendid". We figured we were in relatively good shape. I mean, I can handle an hour long spin class, so how hard can this be? The sad truth, which we would later find out, is that it would be very hard.


The climb starts up a series of very steep and small steps next to the Street of Facades. We stopped about every five minutes or so, as some people who shall remain nameless, had to catch their breath.



Jabal Al-Najr is a double summit on the Atouf Ridge. The first is lower than the second because the entire peak has been sliced away to leave two 6 meter mazzaboth (what we call an obelisk). There are several theories about what the obelisks represent. The ancient Nabateans were more focused on the forces of nature and it's elements rather than tangible representatives like statues or physical symbols. The obelisks are suggested to represent fertility and reproduction so the place is nicknamed Zibb Attouf (zibb mean phallus...heehee).


Once we made it to the top, there was a nice Bedouin woman, who for one Jordanian Dinar, would brandish a sword and act like she was going to cut your throat for the next sacrifice. Nice local touch I thought.


The view from the top was spectacular. You could see the valley and surrounding mountains from all sides of the summit.


The actual place of sacrifice was built around 7BC by King Harith and Queen Huldu (who were also siblings....ewww). Their daughter was the first wife of King Herod, who was a key player in the events that led to the executions of John the Baptist and Jesus.

A common practice is the place a stone on top of other stones that previous travelers have left behind. Not quite sure what is represented, but it was fun to play along, just the same.


After you leave Jabal Al-Najr, you have to make your way down the backside and then, according to the map, take the long trek around to Al-Habis, what served as the Roman section.
All of the structures we passed as we descended from the summit were constructed/carved during the Roman period. Some of the columns still stand, while others have been toppled or fallen. My guide book stated: WARNING: "At this point you will have walked and climbed three strenuous miles and will be very hot and could possibly faint. Please keep track of all members of your party as rescue could be dodgy". To be fair, I did not see this part til we were back at the hotel that evening.


This is me standing outside what was a triclinium, or sacred hall, used for feasts and celebrations during funerals. I am trying to look somber.


About now, we noticed the road forked and we "took the road less traveled" and not necessarily on purpose. We kind of saw our trail dissolve into nothing and we ended up having to climb up the sand to the next trail with nothing to really hold on to. We were pretty much lost and in Marty's words, she "didn't want to play anymore". We were in over our heads. The question was how to get back to the main pathway of the ruins and make our way out of the Siq?


We found ourselves back to an established path, but when we followed it back to the main drag, we were on the side of a mountain where we could see everything but had no way to get down to all the little people (they looked like ants at this point). Carving our own trail in the sand, we figured it out and made our way back to Wadi Musa, the main trail. We stopped at a Bedouin hut for some diet cokes and water and a little rest. I think we were pretty much done with it at this point, so we made our way back to the Treasury and began the 45 minute walk up the Siq to the entrance/exit of the ruins.

After a few beers at the Sandstone Cafe (the only place we could find that served them) we had Felafel at another local dive before taking a cab back to the hotel. I was running out of cash and Petra houses three ATM machines in the whole city, none of which was near us, so we took the long way with the cab to get some cash before heading back. Our cab driver was an animated fellow with bad English who was the proud father of nine children. As we drove by his house, we joked that he should have us over for dinner!

That evening, our final night in Petra, we sat at the outside bar and enjoyed the company of Mohamed (Moe) our waiter. He was telling us about his upcoming trip to Russia to visit with one of his many girlfriends.



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