My Own Personal Desert Stalker

Leaving Petra sucked

I mean really. It sucked.

I wanted to stay in the magical world of the Rose city forever. I wanted to curl up and camp there under the stars, letting the ruins whisper their ancient secrets to me. I wanted to scale the canyon walls and climb into the old homes and find out what life must have been like in that place in it's heyday.


Plus, I really wanted to not have to hike back out of the canyon in the state I was in. 

Dehydrated. 

It's better to avoid dehydration altogether than try to rehydrate, you know.

Once I finished the hike down from The Monastery and began meandering back through the Petra village, I really started to feel bad. Exhausted. Vomity (that's probably not a word). Thirsty. I bought two drinks at a ridiculously overpriced-because-they-can-be drink shop and sat in some shade for a good half hour before I could move again. I'm normally much better about taking care of myself on hikes, but I let this one slip, being unaccustomed to the brutality of the desert sun and overly excited about being where I was.

So I watched my tour mates breeze past and go on a second hike to another site, equally brutal to the one we'd all just finished, as I sat in the shade and sipped my quasi-cold mango juice and bottle of water. (Which, because I didn't get to go to that site, I will be returning to Petra to see someday. Yesssssss!)

And then I sucked it up and began the long walk out. It was a chore. My body fought me every step of the way. But I did it.

When I finally made it up the long hill, through the cavernous passages, back to the place where the local Bedouins offer horse and buggy rides the remainder of the way out, I was soooo ready to get on a horse and take it easy for a bit.

When you buy a ticket into Petra a "free" horse ride is part of the package. I say "free" instead of free because in reality, there is a mandatory tip involved. Which is fine. It's all part of the experience, I guess. This system allows the local Bedouins (who actually live in the hills surrounding Petra and camp amongst the ruins nightly!) another way to make money from the tourists. SO I soon found myself on a spirited white horse, being led by a twenty-something guy.

A couple of minutes into the ride he says to me "Haven't I see you before?"

I was a bit bewildered. "Um. Don't think so."

He said "Yes, yes, it was you last night! At the cave bar!"

I'm thinking: Uh....

Him: "It was me, I was with my friends and you went to the cave bar. We said hello to you. I am so happy to see you again."

Me: Now recalling a group of three local hoodlums cat-calling and hassling me outside of the bar, making me hurry up to reach my friends at the bar.

Me: "Oh, yah!" Big smile at him. Thinking: Oh crap.

The next thing he says to me, with a sly smile and a wink is "You look very sexy on my horse."

So the next ten minutes become increasingly uncomfortable for me as Hamsa (the guide... isn't that a meditation mantra too?) proceeds to try to flirt with me, tell me how beautiful he thinks I am {I swear this blonde hair of mine is going to get me killed!) and that he REALLY wanted to take me out that night. He invited me to a Bedouin BBQ in the desert (not gonna lie, that sounded really cool, but I had dinner plans.)

I politely declined. Repeatedly. And then repeatedly again. And again. And he persisted. And I was tired, dehydrated and now, exasperated and annoyed. And I was also in the middle east, on this guy's horse. So I did my best to maintain politeness and finally only got away after agreeing to go with him to a local bar IF he happened to find me that night after I'd finished having dinner with my group.

At that point I was just happy to get away.

And then I got back to my hotel, peeled off my once white, but now dirt-covered and completely sweat drenched clothes (like seriously, completely drenched - I've never in my life been so covered in dirt and sweat!), had a cold shower, drank more water and passed out on my bed. When I came to, it was time to go to dinner and I remembered Hamsa.

And I spent that evening on the lookout in case I should see that stalker-bedouin.

Ugh.

I mean, really. There's flattery. And there's creepy. And while Hamsa was cute, he had crazy, cracked-out eyes. And I'm not a girl that's attracted to crazy, cracked-out eyes. You know? Yeah.

Dinner with the group was hilariously fun though. See: