Petra

Thursday, 7th April: Everyone was awake and up before Theo came round with his good morning call. Today we were to reach our goal. It wasn't far to go: around two hours of walking before we reached the back of Petra. (We were starting at the end at the Monastery and walking through the ancient city to the start at Wadi Musa where our hotel was located.) 

We had a later start than usual and reached the beginning of the pilgrimage to the Monastery in what seemed to be no time at all. Ha! Look how I was getting used to this! And the policeman joined us again - it's funny how he missed out the really hard bits! And lucky we didn't come across any bandits!

The approach to the Monastery isn't a gentle stroll, but a negotiation of 800 steps! Some flights rise up, and others down - each has its own challenge. They are uneven and it was hot. I leaned on my walking poles to take the weight off my toe. I'd got my soft hiking trainers on as my boots were too rigid and it felt as if I was walking on air. This was fun! We were nearly there.

The Monastery was even more stunning than I'd imagined. Many of us were emotional, trying to hold back tears. We remembered the reason we were there. I wanted to phone Tim, tell him I'd made it. It was years ago that we'd planned to come. Although we hadn't made the trip together, I had made it for him. It made me miss him more than ever, and I hadn't been prepared for that.

We had a group photo taken and then made our way along the narrow lane, avoiding donkeys and dogs, to the restaurant that was booked for lunch. After a quick stop we were off again, following Mohammed, our guide, and learning about this beautiful ancient city. The walk through Petra is 4km, and it is breathtaking.

The hotel was just another ten-minute walk and after a quick shower, my roommate and I had an hour till dinner. So we decided a G&T might be the thing. The hotel didn't serve alcohol but we'd seen a bar near the entrance to Petra. We met another friend in reception and the three of us headed out. We couldn't find the bar, and I was elected to ask a nearby group of policemen.

I approached them cautiously. They were armed, after all. I called out and one turned but he couldn't understand what I was asking. Another policeman pointed a finger at me and told me to wait. I took a step back. He pointed again. I stood still. Two other policeman joined them. Four armed men in uniform were looking at me and they didn't look very friendly. What had I done wrong? Was I going to be arrested? Three of them walked towards me. I swallowed and smiled. Perhaps a smile would get me through. The fourth policeman reached into the boot of his car. I took a step back. I was now beginning to get more than a little worried. I smiled again. He walked towards me holding two plastic containers. He indicated for me to put my hands out and placed them in my upturned palms. The containers were filled with warm liquid.

'Soup?' I asked, my voice croaky.

'Soup!' he said. He didn't smile. His face was very stern.

'Thank you,' I said, just a little confused.

What else could I do but join my friends who were doubled-up with laughter.

We walked quickly away and asked for directions to the bar from a taxi-driver. We were there within two minutes. With the soup.

Clearly there'd been a communication problem. I'd asked directions to the Cave Bar and I'd been given soup. We wondered if it was something to do with Ramadan, about the custom of sharing food after sunset. We pondered this while we drank our G&Ts with the soup on the table between us.

That is, if it was soup......... we didn't try it to find out!