I Can't Chop Any More!

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Geo: 30.3222, 35.4793

Finding the King's Highway in Shobak was infinitely easier than in Karak, and we were quickly on the final leg of our southward journey toward Petra. It became increasingly green and the rock formations softened the further south we drove. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the degree of contrast between this leg of the drive and the desolation of the Desert Highway was extreme.

The few times I had visited Petra when I lived in Jordan, I remembering being among the only people inside the entire city. The town of Wadi Musa sits on the edge of Petra, and before the peace treaty, there was only one western-quality hotel. From planning for this trip, I was already aware how much the tourist traffic to Petra had increased, and there are now literally dozens of hotels, ranging from youth hostels to a Marriott and Hilton. As with Amman, though, to know things had grown and to actually see them are different matters. We drove into Wadi Musa, which is built along the sides of a steep valley, leading to the entrance to Petra at the bottom. I was quickly disoriented, and the roads were so windy and the hillsides so steep, that the GPS kept misinterpreting our location. With only one stop and request for directions, I found our way to the center of town and our hotel. Time was short, as we had booked a "cooking class" for the night. With just enough time to check-in, drop our bags, and wash (a little) we were back in the car and driving down to the Petra Kitchen, which is a "tourist experience" catering to English-speakers who want to learn how to cook Arabic food. We arrived just in time, and we joined about 20 other people from a variety of places, ranging from the UK, Germany, Australia, Argentina, and Canada. It turned out to be a lot of fun, and the food was really good. They ran through our menu for the night, which included a large number of cold and hot mezza (appetizers), as well as a main dish. We were broken up into groups and each table was overseen by one of the chefs, who basically had us chop, chop, and then chop some more. We rotated around, so everyone got to do a little bit of everything, and in the end we got to sit and enjoy the fruits of our labor. The meal was really good, if I do say so myself, and they gave us copies of the recipes to bring home.

We did not get back to the hotel until nearly 10:00pm, and we all collapsed. No one elected to shower, as we were "doing Petra" in the morning, and no one saw a need to clean up just so we could get dirty again so quickly.

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