PETRA --AN INCREDIBLE PART II



I really like this!!!  But I did take this photo in Petra.



It doesn’t get much better than Petra, Jordan, a UNESCO World Heritage Site and now considered one of the wonders of the ancient world. I cannot begin to post photos until I try to convey a portion of Petra’s timeline and history. Where we walk and what we see takes us to a time beyond our ken.



modern Petra--building and attracting many tourists



Here is a city dating back to 6,500-7,000 BCE, and evidence of that ancient community can still be examined! By the Iron Age, Petra was inhabited by the Edomites, but the real building of this great city was done by the Nabataeans, a nomadic Arab tribe impressed by the high protective canyons and the ample water supply that could be directed from above the city through channels and tunnels into cisterns to give the city life, so much life that it grew great as part of the major trade route linking China with Rome. A literate people, they left us calligraphy on the walls as a reminder of their civilization.

Rome eventually annexed Petra, introduced Christianity to the area, and there is evidence of at least three churches.

Petra was so fiercely guarded and lost to the Western world after the 15th century that it was only “re-discovered” in 1812 by a Swiss traveler posing as an Arab coming to offer a sacrifice to the prophet Aaron. The world is the benefactor of that deception.

To reach the major part of the ancient city, we walk more than half a mile downhill to and then through The Siq, a narrow .6 mile long gorge flanked by tall cliffs. The rock formations are enchanting and colorful as if some painter of nature exercised every color in his palette.



a horse-drawn cart bringing visitors back up through the Siq

We pass tombs and monuments, but we are not prepared for the magnificent sight of The Treasury, an incredible façade carved into the mountains and whose decorations indicate that it was carved from the bottom to the top. Treasury is the modern name.





Was it a memorial? A temple? No one knows. What every visitor does know, however, is that this is awesome, a sight that causes one’s jaw to drop in wonder. Think of it--an ancient people using the rudimentary tools of their age to sculpt detail and beauty that we can enjoy THOUSANDS OF YEARS later.

Fans of Indiana Jones might recognize the façade from the final scenes of the Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.

Experiencing the full wonder of Petra requires three or four days. We had a scant few hours, and my walk downhill had to be followed by another mile or so uphill, so with sad resignation I did not venture much further into the city. Rob, however, continued to walk and saw some cliff dwellings and other monuments and buildings carved into the cliffs’ walls.





I walked back up the Siq, but seized the opportunity to ride a horse for some distance. Wow! An Arabian stallion! Not quite I think by the looks of him, but he was beloved by me.



After dismounting, I still had a way to go uphill to the Jordanian tour bus, but it had been a glorious visit! Once again I was transported back in time, awed by ancient man’s accomplishments. I walked in his footsteps and on his roadways and was touched in a way I will never forget.

Off the record, there were carts to bring people back uphill, but it looked like an incredibly jarring ride over the rocks and cobblestones. I had the feeling the drivers enjoyed messing with the tourists!



Camel rides were available.



It is important to know that Petra requires significant walking, and a lot of it is uphill. And it is hot.

Depending how one looks at it, there are the ubiquitous memento shops.  See anything tempting?





As we drive back through the modern city of Petra, we see men, women, and children going about their daily business. We see the mixture of old and new as this city grows and changes to meet the onslaught of tourists. New hotels are springing up everywhere as are homes and roads and new sidewalks with trees beautifying them.











We stop at Petra’s Magic Restaurant for a late lunch. It is a marvelous Jordanian smorgasbord. Then I doze on the long ride back to the border.

My advice—if you are in this part of our world, don’t pass up a chance to visit Petra. Bring your camera, good walking shoes, a walking stick, and a few bottles of water.

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JORDAN AND PETRA - PART I

The late King Hussein and his son, the present King Abdullah II

Our hotel in Eilat is magnificent, but we haven’t time to enjoy it; we’re taking the optional trip across the border to Petra in Jordan. 

Petra is arguably one of the most remarkable places on earth.  It’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site and the undisputed chief tourist attraction in Jordan.  Reading about it did not begin to prepare me for its unbelievable wonders or the total amazement I felt viewing the work of a long-vanished people, the Nabataeans who built the city and turned it into an important part of the trade routes followed by silk and spice merchants of the world.  There is no way we could be in this part of the world and hang around a hotel instead of coming here!

We leave Eilat at 7:00 AM and by 7:45 AM we’ve passed through the Yitzhak Rabin Israeli checkpoint at the border.  This checkpoint was first opened in 1994.  We leave the Israeli tour bus on their side and walk on road leading to the Jordanian border where we surrender our passports to Jordanian security.  It is a bit movie-land eerie.


The Jordanians direct us across the street to sit or stand around a little store that sells souvenirs and drinks.  The benches and tables seem coca cola covered and are thick with flies.  It’s desert hot and uncomfortable.  

We do not get through the Jordanian checkpoint until 9:00 AM.  An Israeli accompanies us.  He has collected $10.00 from each of us to give to the Jordanian tour bus guide.  In addition to the Jordanian guide on our bus is a member of the Jordanian Tourist Police.  He said nothing to us during the trip, but he was with us, and his presence was felt.  The distance from Aqaba, the southernmost city in Jordan and right across the border from Eilat, Israel, to Petra is approximately 98 miles.  For us it will be a two-hour drive.

From the border station onward there are pictures, banners, and signs of both King Hussein who died in 1999, and his son, the present King Abdullah II.

Construction is going on everywhere in Aqaba.  Both Aqaba and its neighboring Israeli city, Eilat, border on the Red Sea.  Eilat is about 3,000 years old and was once a major port.  Today its main business is tourist business. The new city of Eilat was established in 1950.  Aqaba, too, is an ancient city, the only seaport city in Jordan.  It is even mentioned in the Bible.  Today, Aqaba is undergoing major construction to enhance its port potential to develop itself as a manufacturing hub and to build its tourist industry particularly as sites like Petra and Wadi Rum become more appealing to tourists.  What we see today is the birth of a modern city.

As our bus begins the ascent into the mountains, we are once again treated to the harsh nature of the desert environment, the same environment that exists on the other side of the border.  The mountains have a stark beauty.  The rocks are colorful and striated.  It is a haunting landscape devoid of roads other than our main one.  Some of the rock formations remind me of Sedona, Arizona.

We pass a second check point further into the country, but this is just a brief stop.

As we drive, our excellent Jordanian guide tells us about his country.  Jordan is ruled by the Hashemite family, direct descendants of Mohammed.  Most of the population lives in the north (we are in the south), and the majority of the population are of Bedouin ancestry.   Despite the Jordanian government’s attempt to settle them in cities (as the Israel government does) in order to provide them with educational, medical and other social services, some still resist and as in Israel, we passed Bedouin encampments that seemed communities of squalor. 

The towns, too, seem very poor.  Of course we are seeing only a tiny part of Jordan, but it is a sad contrast to the towns we passed in Israel.

In some research I did, I learned that Bedouin encampments last for months at a time and that Bedouins have shunned most modern developments.  Some have added trucks which they use to transport their animals to the next encampment, and some use plastic water containers for convenience.  Certainly no visitor passing through this area can do so without thinking of this people and how modernity might impact the very core of their lives. 

It is quite a while before we come into towns.  The tallest building is the recognizable mosque, and in the towns some homes surrounded by silver leafed olive trees.  We are told these are the prosperous residents. The houses are sometimes the sand color but sometimes brightly painted in pinks and teals. 

The town of Petra is built into the mountainside, and the roads steeply wrap around.  Our guide tells us about the building going on in town to expand the number of resorts and hotels for tourists.  We’re able to take pictures through the window as we pass through town, but we are really anxious to get to the wonder of the ancient world.

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LOWS AND HIGHS - THE DEAD SEA AND MASADA

The Dead Sea is the lowest place on earth.  It’s roughly 1,300 feet below sea level, and it’s about 1,400 feet deep. It’s an amazing place, unlike any place I’ve been on this planet.  It is fed by the Jordan River, and because of its tremendously high evaporation rate, it produces large amounts of raw chemicals used throughout the world in agriculture, medicine, and manufacturing. 

You can’t sink in the Dead Sea because of the high concentration of salt, and the minerals in the water, the highest concentration in the world.  While no fish can live in this environment toxic to them, the waters and minerals are used to relieve sufferers of psoriasis or arthritis.  Visitors use the mud or relax in the Sea for its therapeutic value.  The desert area has many spas and resorts catering to those seeking relief.

Historically, the area housed fugitives like David and Jesus, and nearby were the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.  Aristotle, King Solomon, the Queen of Sheba, and Cleopatra were all familiar with this place, so coming here and going in this water really is a trip and a half.

We were warned not to go in the Sea if we had cuts because of the high salt content, and it was suggested that people not shave nor do anything to scrape or irritate their skins.  I did not go in because I had recent surgery, but I really enjoyed the visit.  We walked along the beach, dipping our toes. The water had an almost oily feel. The report from our friends on our Margaret Morse tour was that no one felt any stinging from the water.

We were also warned about not putting our heads in the water.  The warning was accompanied by a story about Sylvester Stallone who was filming a movie in the area.  Despite the same warning, Stallone decided to do the macho bit.  He went running into the sea as many do at the ocean, dove headfirst into the water and swallowed some of this saline, mineral-filled water.  He ended up in a hospital for quite some time.  Maybe Rocky got hit in the head one too many times.

Visitors travel the considerable distance from the main building to the waterfront via a road or on a tram.  There’s no animal life around; it’s far too toxic.  We pass a salt water pool, mud baths, showers, and other relaxing spots before reaching the sea where there are chairs at water’s edge and shelters in which to find some shade.  The Dead Sea is shrinking, and there are signs marking the water lines that were there once.  There are shaded places in the water with hammocks—not that you need hammocks. You can’t sink. You need to wear water shoes because you are walking not on sand but on mineral deposits, and some are quite large and crystalline and beautiful.

This is beautiful, but imagine walking on these without water shoes.

Doesn’t sound delightful?  Well, it’s certainly not the seaside most of us envision.  Still, it works on so many levels it remains a thrill.

I left the Dead Sea with the same feeling of awe I’d experienced so many times since alighting in Tel Aviv.  We continued through the Judean Desert toward Eliat to our next stop, Masada! 

On the way to Masada we passed a few Bedouin camps.  Israel would like the Bedouins to move into cities where they will be eligible for the beneficent social programs the government offers.  The Bedouin animals, specifically the sheep, eat the grass down the roots making it impossible for the land to prosper.  The Bedouins set up their temporary camps, but as one can see, they live in squalor.  More and more are turning to the cities where there are educational and medical facilities to accommodate their needs.

Can you imagine ancient man building a fortress atop this mountain?

Masada is one more point where history takes over in its most dramatic way, and the sense of Jewish history becomes palpable and excruciating.  Masada is more than a place; it is a state of mind.  This fortress was built by Herod high above the desert.  As we approach, I am amazed at the size and height of the mountain.  It was something for which my imagination did not prepare me.

From Masada, ancient Jews held off the Roman army in a seige lasting three years.  In 70 CE after Rome destroyed Jerusalem and the Second Temple, remaining Zealots escaped to Masada.  They entered their siege and taunted the Romans even as the Romans constructed the battering rams and catapults that would eventually allow them to enter the compound only to find that the 960 Jews had committed suicide rather than face defeat and the executions, rapes, and slavery defeat entailed.

The Talmud does not deal with the story of Masada, so our knowledge comes from Flavius Josephus, a man hated by the Jews because of his Roman ties but who turned out to be a marvelous historian (see my article on the Jerusalem model http://thirdagetraveler.blogspot.com/2011/04/israel-museum-jerusalem-circa-66-ce.html.) Josephus gained his information from two surviving women.

See the Snake Path in the shadow of our cablecar?

Before our trip, Rob and I watched the movie starring Peter O’Toole.  We had an inkling of the history, but when we arrived and looked up at this gigantic stronghold, our jaws dropped.  The “Snake Path” traveled blithely by both camps in the movies is actually a steep, narrow, twisting open rope of a road that leaves a traveler open to detection from either side.  We’re spared the climb though we saw hearty hikers on the Path. Visitors take a cable car from the base of the mountain to the top.  There we walk around following the guide and examine the excavations.

Indeed, it was not until the early 1960s that excavation began, and within five years just about everything needed to be known about Masada was unearthed.  Over the course of time, earthquakes destroyed the area, but today one can see a line stretching across the stones.  Below the line is the original building; above the line is restored.

All the stones were local.  When Herod built this incredible fortress with palaces and luxuries between 37 and 31 BCE, the stones were plastered over and polished to look like marble.  We have seen that earlier in the trip, but here we see what happens when the plaster is removed.



This must have been magnficent.  Below the blue line all is original.

   One can only imagine the cost in human life and toil to complete this place.

The fortress was built for a siege.  Each food storage room would have a different kind of food except for one room which had a mixture.  That room was the “tithing” room. There were huge water cisterns that kept the Jews able to farm up there while the Romans down below parched in the desert heat.

As we look down from the top, we see one of the squares where the Roman legions were stationed.  Josephus tells us that 9,000 Roman soldiers and slaves were here during the siege.

Masada is the second most frequented spot for tourists in Israel.  It certainly hits one intellectually, historically, and emotionally. 

When we left to continue through the Judean Desert, we stopped at a kibbutz-run dairy and date (the kind you eat—haha) café where we had a chance to rest, think, and drink pints of the delicious chocolate milk Margaret Morse provided for us.  This tour company certainly knows how to meet its clients’ needs!

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NYC'S HOUSTON STREET--A GUSTATORY TREAT

 

I’ve written a number of times about these great delis in NYC: Carnegie, Stage, Ben’s---but the best by far is Katz’s down on Houston Street.  I am usually there WITHOUT my camera so I couldn't share the ambiance, or lack thereof, of this marvelous New York staple where Harry Met Sally and a Katz's patron ordered “what she had.”  This time I had my camera, and the video clip from the movie is down below.

How famous is Katz’s?  Google just the name, and you will see that the world recognizes this as THE Katz’s.  And it has been that way since 1888. 

This is not a movie set!

Since WWII, Katz’s has been sending dried salamis to the military, and there is a big sign “Send a salami to your boy in the army.”  Michael’s cousins have done it and so have we. Their website has a link for that special APO/FPO package.

Years ago when Rob first introduced me to Katz’s, I looked up this restaurant in The Underground Gourmet.  It said its cleanliness was “negligible,” if I remember correctly.  I don’t think the place has been updated ever, and that’s part of the charm.  I can’t say if The Underground Gourmet was right, but I wouldn’t hesitate going in there for a moment.

Some things have changed, however.  At one time the waiters (wait service occurs at the tables along the wall while the rest is get-on-line and order) were the surliest old men you can imagine.  Heaven help you if you brought your own sandwich to one of their tables.  Those guys are gone now, but the new crop retains the surliness.  Ah…tradition.

The walls of Katz’s are lined with photos of the rich and famous who can’t resist the most delicious of deli sandwiches. 

Dried salamis hang in the window, and if you come in at lunchtime, the lines are long.

   You get on line, wait your turn, order your sandwich, and the deli-guy cuts off a slice for you, plops it on a plate, and you get to savor that first delicious bite!  With your fingers--and then you lick them!  You can order “lean,” but why ruin the sandwich?  On your sandwich plate are sour and half-sour pickles and pickled tomatoes.  No way will you leave hungry.  Want a Doctor Brown’s soda to go with it?  Think you can handle a heap of fries?  Or a knish?

There's a tip jar on the counter, and we make sure we add to it.  The taste and the sandwich are the extra special stuff you just don't get everywhere in the city.  Want some extra pickles?  Another tomato?  Just ask.

Those sandwiches aren’t cheap.  A corned beef sandwich last week was $16.25, and a pastrami was $16.75.  Tongue is even more expensive. 

How's this price for an egg cream, a New York legendary drink or that lovely chili/pickle combo?

Of course there are other things on the menu, but we have our favorites.  Over the years I’ve had french fries piled a mile high, lots of hot dogs with mustard and sauerkraut,  knishes, franks to take home, little salamis to take home, and probably some other items, but for me the big choice is between corned beef and pastrami.  Rob and I sometimes split because this is a majorly tough decision.

But Houston Street should not be defined by Katz’s alone.

Houston Street is actually a treasure trove of ethnic food.  Right down the block is Russ and Daughters, one of the best appetizer stores I’ve ever had the gustatory pleasure to frequent.  For four generations, their herrings, white fish, smoked salmon (known as lox to me), halvah, caviar and much more mean putting a cooler in the car and loading up! New York Magazine named it the best place for bagels and lox. 

 

Here’s the Travel Channel’s Anthony Bourdain’s assessment: "Russ & Daughters occupies that rare and tiny place on the mountaintop reserved for those who are not just the oldest and the last — but also the best." 
- Anthony Bourdain

  No surprise.

A few stores down from Russ & Daughters is Yonah Shimmel’s Knish Bakery. 

 The original Yonah Shimmel sold knishes from his pushcart beginning in 1890, and his store has been in its present location since 1910.  NYC politicians love to have their picture taken at this Lower East Side icon, and we knish connoisseurs just like to go there.  We take them back home with our Katz’s sandwich, some appetizing from Russ etc., and we heat them in the oven.  And smile.

If you want to eat in Yonah Shimmel’s be prepared to travel back in time.  There are a few other things on the menu, but you will grab your utensils from a glass on the table and sit at tables that probably date from the 1940s.  It is a treat to be in there where you can think about the regular people coming in for a warm piece of real comfort food.  The only thing is they warm the knishes in a microwave.  It’s much nicer to warm them in an oven.

The store is so important in the annals of New York City History that it has been the subject of many portraits, one of which hangs in the Museum of the City of New York.

This part of Houston Street is really delicious!  It’s a part of New York many people miss.  Don’t be one of them.

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