My Brugge: The Rose Red City

Thursday, 21 March 2019

The Rose Red City

Part of the earliest known representation of Palestine with

Jerusalem at its centre. A floor mosaic in the 19th century St George's

Church built over a 6th century Byzantine church which originally

housed this precious relic.

From Mount Nebo: part of the vista comprising the

Promised Land of the prophet Moses. [Deut.34]

Pre-Pottery Palaeolithic

The earliest known representation of the human body.

I have been back from a much-anticipated holiday in Jordan for ten days now and still am sitting around with excruciating backache and a flat battery, personally speaking. Eight days in Jordan to include two days plus in Petra and Little Petra and a final flourish in the wonderful Jerash, was splendid but in fact, physically too demanding for a person in the mid eighties. I decided that around half way through the holiday, reluctantly, because the huge array of sights and sites is dazzling, but the physical demands, especially the constant stamina needed, were beyond me. I had a great journey home via Rome but arrival in Zaventem to find, eventually, that all trains were cancelled, was less than welcome. However the taxi home was smooth and quiet and I was soon in bed. What I hadn’t reckoned with was the total lack of energy on Monday morning plus the painful back, acquired, I decided, during my double fall on the two escalators to the station part of the airport; a descent not needed, as it happened, as trains were not running due to the weather.

But, post hoc moans aside, we did see some wonderful sights. Between Amman and Petra on Day Two, we visited Madaba, the site of the 6^th century Byzantine Greek Orthodox St George’s Church in fact to see the stunning 6^th century floor Mosaic map, the oldest map of the Middle East, with Jerusalem at its centre. Much of it is beautifully, and miraculously-preserved and is the oldest surviving cartographic depiction of the Holy Land. The Church itself dates only from 1896 but was built over the remains of a 6^th century Byzantine church which originally housed the historic mosaic. Immediately after that we visited Mount Nebo, where Moses was led to view the Promised Land and where he died. The extraordinary panorama from Nebo, towards Israel, was impressive and we felt the immense weight of history on the shoulder.

First sight of Al Khazna, the Treasury,

as one leaves the comparative gloom of the Siq

and the pink and majestic façade appears through the

narrow cleft in the mountainous rock sides.

The major focus of the trip was, however, the caravan city of Petra which served as capital of the Arab tribe known as the Nabataeans from its founding in the mid-second century B.C. The city grew rich through trade in frankincense, myrrh and spices until the huge earthquake in 363 A.D. destroyed much of this beautiful place. The site was effectively abandoned by the end of the Byzantine period in the 7^th century A.D. and only re-discovered by the explorer Johann Burckhardt in 1812. In fact, human settlement and land use can be traced back in Petra over 10,000 years. The entire Petra Archaeological Park covers about 264 square kilometres with the city’s centre encompassing an area of only 6 square kilometres and containing many buildings and sites which have become world-famous. The most iconic building is the Treasury, a magisterial rose-red building standing, magical and theatrical, half-revealed in the sunlight as the visitor approaches along the shadowy Siq, the long and beautiful walk from the entrance, between towering columns of rock cleft in two, thousands of years ago. So begins an experience of Biblical and timeless views; camels, donkeys, dirt and rubble beneath the weary feet, and everywhere the exquisite striations of the red rock rising in strange and convoluted shapes to form cliffs and towers and mountains of bewildering intensity and majesty. There are ancient staircases hewn from the rising rock, leading skyward to silent summits which overlook yet more vistas of jagged mountains. All, breath-taking, and the pink-hued vibrantly-coloured, swirling rock faces pirouette like extravagant dancers, defying belief.

Five non-mountaineers in front of the Monastery.

Breath-taking panoramas and very cold air.

Close-up of the range of rose reds

and swirling patterns in the natural sandstone.

Nothing was easily accessed but the ascent to [and worse, the descent from] the Monastery up 800 rock-carved steps, was the biggest challenge for me. The steps were often not there, just smooth curves of stone, slippery and enormous, presenting a daunting challenge often while the amateur climber was being overtaken by ascending or descending donkeys with terrified passengers on board, clinging on for dear life. Without a little help from my friends, the ascent would have taken even longer [one hour suggested; two hours in actuality!] and the descent would have been almost impossible! But the views in the cold mountain air at the summit were spectacular and the fear, tangible, as the more aged contemplated their vertiginous return. The Monastery itself, despite standing at a great height, is superbly preserved; it was probably unfinished with its empty niches and little evidence of use, inside. Built in the second century A.D. perhaps not too long before the Nabatean civilisation began to crumble.

Wearily trudging the long, long way home to the hotel, uphill in the narrow gorge that is the Siq, my companions kindly flagged down the last jeep in a column of five returning, like us, towards the Visitors’ Centre and persuaded them to give me a lift. Wondrous humanitarian aid!! The party comprised UNESCO personnel from Amman and a number from the Italian Embassy there, preparing for a visit by an important group. I was charmed by their sheer exuberance and energy.