They said exploring all Petra has to see couldn’t be done in one day. Well friends, I did it! It may have been the longest and most active day of my life, but I managed to explore the entire Rose City in just one day.
When planning my trip to Jordan, I heard the phrase “you need at least two days in Petra” over and over again. With the Jordan Pass, the difference between one and two days is only 5 JOD (about £5.50), so I heeded this well-worn advice and bought myself a two-day ticket to Petra.
However, fellow solo travellers will know that sometimes you have to sacrifice your thoroughly researched travel plans in order to feel comfortable or safe. Even I, a chronic planner, thought that two days alone in Petra might get a bit dull. So when my travel buddies said they only had one day to explore the ancient city, I threw caution to the wind and rose to the challenge to join them.
I met my travel buddies outside Petra’s Visitor Centre at 5.45 a.m. The ticket office doesn’t open until 6 a.m. but it was October—the beginning of the busy season—and we didn’t want to take any chances. Luckily, even with some snack-related dawdling, we ended up fifth in the queue when the ticket officer opened his booth. At just after 6, we were already heading down the sloping path through the Siq.
I’d heard rumours about horse riding scams and pestering locals, but we were so early that they were nowhere to be seen. Fair play to them if they were still in bed; a part of my brain wished that I was too.
Petra’s Siq is a long canyon with towering and undulating orange stone walls. The 2 km walk through this narrow and beautiful passageway passed quickly. I think I was eager to make it to the Treasury and unconsciously increased my pace.
The light was still dim, so I gazed up at the crack of morning sky just visible above us. The pace of the rising sun matched ours, and by the time I glimpsed that iconic sliver of treasury through the Siq’s opening, the sun had risen fully.
Emerging into the soft-lit clearing in front of the Treasury was a bizarre experience. The pinkish-orange building cut into the rock almost seemed to glow as it towered before me. The muffled echoes of people’s speech added to the eerie atmosphere.
As such an iconic landmark, I’d seen the Treasury in photos so many times that it didn’t seem real. I clearly wasn’t the only person that felt this way. Though we’d been so early in the queue, the clearing in front of the Treasury was by no means empty. Yet no one seemed to dare stand forward for a photo too close to the Treasury, breaking from the small cluster near the Siq’s opening only very reluctantly.
I moved from this spot quite quickly, heading to the right of the façade so I could admire it without being interrupted by the trickle of arrivals from the Siq. The Treasury looked maybe even better from this angle. It was easier to appreciate its scale, with the little patch of sky to the left illuminating it with morning light. I even found a little ledge to settle on.
I then noticed a small string of people clambering up to my right. Following their lead, we joined them along a path that doubled round up the cliff opposite the Treasury. At the top was a ledge with another excellent viewpoint over the clearing.
Just above the ledge was what looked like a Bedouin residence, and I couldn’t stop myself imagining what it would be like to live here and wake up every day to this imposing view. I was beginning to realise that there was no such thing as a bad angle in Petra.
Following the Street of Facades into the midst of the old city, we turned off at the path signposted to the Place of High Sacrifice. And so the real adventure began!
We followed a series of stone steps upwards. On numerous occasions we ended up at a dead end and had to double back to look for markings. After an hour or so, we arrived at a flat outcrop with a little Bedouin stall on top. To be honest, I’m still only 90% sure that this was actually the Place of High Sacrifice. Apart what may have been a giant bath cut into the stone, I couldn’t see any ancient signs of sacrifice . . . but it was quite a cool place to stop regardless!
There was a rug laid out at the edge of the cliff, next to a giant flag of Jordan that was blowing softly in the morning breeze. It overlooked the rocky gorge where the main city lay, which was still in shadow when we arrived around 8.30 a.m.
In fact, the highlight of the Place of High Sacrifice was the walk back down again. The path is circular, so instead of retracing our footsteps we were treated to a whole new landscape. Following the Wadi Farasa trail, we discovered ancient carvings, giant tombs and the intriguing Garden Triclinium. To add to the excitement, the path was almost completely deserted.
Around 10 a.m. we finally emerged from the shade of Petra’s towering cliffs for the first time since entering the Siq at sunrise. I was really able to get a sense of Petra’s scale: now we were out in the open, I could see mountains rolling away from us for miles. We headed into the midst of this rocky desert, through Qasr al Bint (AKA the “basin”). The sun was high in the sky by this point, and it was with relief that we ended up back in the middle of the main city.
After a quick, early lunch, we decided to tackle the trail to the Monastery.
For some reason, I’d thought the ascending path we’d taken to the Place of High Sacrifice was the hundreds of infamously gruelling steps to the Monastery. Thus when I saw the real steps to the Monastery towering before me and we started to climb, I put on a brave face whilst groaning inwardly. In my mind I was sensing another Table Mountain scenario.
Fortunately, thanks to the high rocks throughout Petra, most of the path was in the shade even at 1 p.m. Nevertheless, the road still wasn’t easy-going. Every few minutes we had to jump out of the way of donkeys hurtling up or down the path. (Yes, they did look miserable or panicked and yes, I did see their handlers hitting them.)
It was with great joy that I finally cleared the top of the steps and saw the Monastery for the first time. Though it was obviously a Nabataean cousin of the Treasury, they looked different in many ways. The Monastery was much bigger, and this impression was helped by the vast open space that surrounds it. It was also a much paler stone than the pinkish Treasury and, dare I say, a little less crowded than the Treasury would be at this hour.
After taking in this impressive structure, I turned to the view behind us. Stretching away from the Monastery were a few bumpy paths. They each led to viewpoints, all of which had signs declaring that theirs boasted “the best view in the world”. Meandering between these viewpoints, I was once again struck by the size of Petra. We had reached the edge of the accessible portion of Petra, and now I looked out over deep canyons and mountainous desert. It stretched on for miles until the haze on the horizon, and all it was the city of Petra.
As we headed back to begin our trek downwards again, one of my travel buddies cried out. Gazing up to where her outstretched arm was pointing, I watched as a tiny figure scaled the side of the Monastery and began leaping across the top! Part of me knew he must be a local Bedouin, who did this often for the entertainment of tourists. But still, the Monastery is 45 metres high so that’s no joke! Still reeling from this exciting display, we began our descent.
Finally leaving the Monastery’s steps behind, it was along the Colonnaded Street that I really noticed the crowds. Even here we were regularly forced to jump out of the way of donkeys, or persuade touts that we didn’t want to ride one ourselves.
Along the street are ruins of the Great Temple, Temenos Gate, the market area and the colonnades themselves (amongst others). Having already explored countless ruins throughout Jordan, I actually didn’t think these were that special. I’d already seen so many remarkable things in Petra that morning that these overcrowded spots didn’t impress me that much.
Nevertheless, we walked down the street, passing through the giant Temenos Gate and past the crumbling colonnades. We stopped only to pick up a freshly squeezed pomegranate juice at a roadside café. Ahead of us was our destination: the Royal Tombs carved high into Petra’s rock face.
As it passed 5 p.m. we knew our time in Petra was coming to a close. There was suddenly the presence of Petra’s guards patrolling the area, and we concluded that they were preparing to sweep us out for closing time. We decided to use our last hour in Petra exploring the Royal Tombs.
The tombs were much like the ones we’d seen on the path from the Place of High Sacrifice, except this time they were jumbled on top of each other. We climbed up a tacking path to reach them, and I noticed that all the other tourists were headed in the opposite direction: towards the exit. No complaints from me, as this meant we could explore each echoing chamber all by ourselves.
“But where is the Royal Tomb?” one of my travel buddies wondered aloud.
I had been preparing to turn back. “Isn’t this it?” I asked, gesturing at the many tombs we’d just explored.
“These are tombs,” he said, “but where’s the Royal Tomb? I think it might be just around that bend.”
Following him around the corner, we were presented with a series of steep staircases cut into the rock.
“I think the Royal Tomb is just up here,” my travel buddy said. Reasoning that we couldn’t come all this way without seeing the actual Royal Tomb, our little band agreed to head up the stairs.
Up and up and up we climbed, this journey seeming even more incessant than the hike to the Monastery.
“I’m sure the Royal Tomb is just around this corner,” my travel buddy would pant, every time it looked like one of us was flagging. We were rewarded with a great view over the Nabataean Theatre, but we didn’t linger for long. I swiftly came to the conclusion that we’d already seen all the Royal Tombs. We were now headed on an entirely different adventure, one, I hoped, that would lead us to a view of the Treasury.
Higher we climbed, passing lone donkeys and abandoned Bedouin shops. Every now and again one or two people would pass us as they descended, but apart from that the place seemed deserted.
Eventually we reached the top of steps, but the Treasury was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until we’d crept along the top of the cliff, clambering over rocks towards what seemed like a sheer drop, that we found what we were looking for.
Overhanging the cliff’s edge was a little Bedouin café. In reality, it was more of a glorified tent with a coolbox, complete with striped wall hangings and numerous cats. Relieved that this 45-minute climb hadn’t been for nothing, I joined the others perched on the edge. Below me was the Treasury, what we’d trekked all this way for, just in time for golden hour.
However, we barely got to enjoy this view before our Bedouin hosts pointed out the setting sun. We now had to retrace our footsteps across the top of the cliff and down hundreds of steep stairs. This time, however, we would be doing it in the dark.
The high rock walls of Petra meant that there was barely any moonlight on the path. Luckily, one of my travel buddies had had the forethought to bring a headtorch, so we clustered around him. Every time he swung the beam to the right, all I could see was the darkness of a sheer drop.
This was the real Petra by night, I thought.
It was with relief that we reached the Colonnaded Street once again. Circling round and hoping we were headed in the right direction, we followed the path back towards the Treasury.
Suddenly two men loomed out of the darkness and shone a flashlight in our faces.
“Do you have Petra by Night tickets?” a guard asked.
Panicking that I was about to get chastised (a constant and mainly irrational fear of mine) I squeaked, “I still need to buy it!”
Thankfully, they had no issue with this, and I parted with 17 JOD (about £20) for the Petra by Night ticket. We took a seat outside the cafés opposite the Treasury and watched as Bedouins began to line the sandy ground with candles in paper bags.
With only about 30 people in the darkness around us, I felt very lucky to be able to witness the Treasury’s façade in peace. I even crept into the Siq to experience its serenity when deserted and lit by nothing by candlelight. However, this serenity quickly faded when the crowds from the visitor’s centre poured in and the show started.
The actual Petra by Night show was pretty underwhelming, and shorter than I had expected. Luckily, I had been warned of this and had adjusted my expectations accordingly. I’m planning to write a whole blog post dedicated to Petra by Night because I do recommend it, but only if it’s done right!
Though most people stayed to photograph the Treasury after the show ended, we joined the smaller crowd to wearily make our way back through the Siq to the Visitor’s Centre. After a full day of exploring, the walk seemed far longer than it had that morning. Plus, this time, it was sloping uphill. I fixed my eyes on the dark, uneven ground, hoping not to trip. Any time I wearily lifted my head to look upwards, I could see the night sky through the winding stone walls above.
By the time we finally made it to the Visitor’s Centre, it had gone 10 p.m. Checking my phone, I realised I’d done nearly 45000 steps and close to 30 km, the most I’ve ever walked in my life. Even the Everest Base Camp trek didn’t call for that much physical exertion in one day!
I’m impressed we managed to do justice to all of Petra’s features in just one day. With the exception of our night-time descent along Al-Khubtha Trail, I never felt rushed. Saying that, I’m unsurprised we needed every second inside Petra’s gates to see it all.
Would I recommend taking on this much of Petra in one day? Actually, yes! The ancient city definitely lived up to the hype. The sense of wonder and achievement every time I glimpsed a new ancient detail was what fuelled me onwards.
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2 Comments
Jenni · 11/07/2019 at 7:50 PM
It’s always been a dream of mine to visit here but you have painted such a wonderful image of Petra!
Daisy · 11/24/2019 at 10:27 AM
Ah I’m so glad! Hopefully you guys get here one day too.