MIDDLE EAST:Cultures, races and creeds have clashed and co-mingled for centuries in Jordan leaving behind a rich legacy of art and architecture, writes JOHN LANE
DAWN IS BREAKING behind us though the sun is still too low to throw shadows. The sky is a blood orange and I’m perched still and upright, like a fisherman’s float, bobbing shoulder deep in oily water. The bottom is out of sight many metres below and as I tread water and gently revolve with slow-mo tai-chi-like movements, the vista changes from lake expanse to shoreline, a stepped palace comes into view, all golden marble and bronze, rising from the edge of the water as the sun creeps up behind it, throwing the scene into magical relief.
Okay, maybe I’m being a little lyrical, but just 10 minutes earlier I had been asleep in my bed at the Kempinski Hotel Ishtar, and taking in the fantastic scene from such a singularly unusual vantage point, my mind was having trouble deciding that it had woken up. It was the second morning of a family-friendly trip to Jordan to sample the history of the region, and my son Conor and I had risen early to test the fabled waters of the Dead Sea, just metres from our villa-style room.
At more than 400m below sea level, the Dead Sea has a unique geography and climate, and its therapeutic qualities have been known for millennia – King Herod apparently enjoyed the mud – so after our plunge we dutifully followed ancient tradition and slathered ourselves in the mineral-rich black substance.
The previous day involved an equally astounding plunge into ancient culture. As a crossroads of history, Jordan is surely unrivalled. It is here that Moses, during the Exodus, struck a rock from which water sprung. The north-south line of the nearby Jordan River, which feeds the Dead Sea, follows the ancient trade routes from Europe southwards to bountiful Egypt. To the east are the Tigress and Euphrates of Mesopotamia, where the cut of the first plough heralded the dawn of human civilisation; to the west is the Mediterranean where the Hellenistic world first made footfall even before Alexander the Great came through on his way to India. Jesus was baptised by John the Baptist just up the road. The Crusades were fought all around. The Ottoman’s Hejaz Railway was destroyed by Lawrence of Arabia just over there. The list is endless.
But on this first morning, we headed for the ancient Roman city of Jerash (Gerash) to the north of Jordan’s capital Amman, and we were running late. “Yella yella; yella yella,” yelled our gigantic grinning guide Abdul, the man charged with bringing the history of his country to life in just two short days. “This is Arabic. It means ‘hurry, hurry’, and you will hear me say it a lot.”
A metropolis for thousands of years, Jerash was conquered by the Roman general Pompey (who not long after went on to tussle with Julius Caesar and help bring down the Roman Republic). As was their wont, the Romans remade the city to their own tastes and needs, and what still stands (and continues to be unearthed) is one of the best preserved Roman provincial cities in the world.
But this was to be more than just history tapped out in stone. After a whistle-stop tour of the site, Abdul ushered our group to the city’s hippodrome for a high-pitched re-enactment of the chariot racing and gladiator games enjoyed by ancient citizens of Jerash. Two-horse chariots raced breakneck around the course, a Roman cohort drilled, and gladiator swords clashed in combat. As the theatre came to a bloodbag-bursting end, we were asked, as the ancient citizens were, if we would spare those vanquished. “Kill” was the unanimous gesture from the merciless thumbs of our group, who were in serious need of respite and sustenance, though not before a few photo ops with some grinning gladiators.
“Yella, yella!” This time we were late for a traditional Bedouin meal in the home of Eisa Dweekat. Eisa is the head of a local Bedouin family who have left their nomadic life to settle in built homes, and tend to the olive trees that grow everywhere on these lands. Olives have a 10,000-year history in the region (some of the trees actually look that old), and the trees cling to its rocky slopes with tenacity, and thrive as well, giving life and livelihood. Jordan is among the top 10 olive oil producers in the world (though bereft of that other natural resource which has brought wealth to its neighbours).
Back on the bus, the day’s trekking had taken its toll, and heads nodded and sleep descended during the drive back to the Kempinski. Not that this bothered the irrepressible Abdul, who launched into a freewheeling history of the region, beginning with Abraham and ending with our arrival the day before. His tale took us back to the gates of the Kempinski, where a dusk swim and dinner at the hotel’s Italian restaurant (there are four to choose from on the hotel’s grounds) ended the day.
The next morning, we rose early, mindful of Abdul’s assertion that the bus would be leaving at 8am, with or without us. After our Dead Sea soak, there was time to take in our hotel surroundings. Subtlety has rarely featured in the palaces and displays of power throughout the ages, but it finds new expression in the understated splendour of the Kempinski. Designed in affectionate tribute to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, the hotel has the feel of a small village, punctuated by grand, cool public spaces, ancient art on the walls, lagoons, waterfalls and private pools dotted about; simple yet elegant in every detail. This was a five-star experience that succeeded through subtlety not sensory overload.
After breakfast on the terrace, we headed southward to the World Heritage site of Petra via a “desert short-cut”, which Abdul promised would be “thrilling”. At one point, nature called to some of our party, and our first encounter with the free-range camels of the Bedouin resulted in a stand-off between beast and child over the few solitary trees in the vicinity. The camels refused to give up their shade. Drained and slightly embarrassed, the kids rejoined us on the bus for the “perfectly safe” part of the drive that constituted the short-cut. As Ibrahim, our stoic driver, assured us in non-committal tones that “no death would occur”, flat desert gave way to mountain country, and within minutes our ears were popping as Ibrahim rode the pedals and chewed the gears through the kind of mountain terrain that gives goats nightmares.
But frightened giddiness soon turned to eager excitement as the first sandstone marvels of Petra lurched into view. Carved by the Nabataeans, whose dominance of the region through trade spanned from the sixth century BC to the arrival of the Roman Empire in AD 100s, the iconic desert city of Petra could as easily be from the pages of science fiction as history. Natural outcrops and ravines hewn into the sandstone over millennia were remodelled spectacularly by Nabataean hands inspired by Hellenistic and Egyptian architecture.
The star of Petra is the iconic Treasury, which emerged as if the curtains of rock were being drawn back by unseen hands. Dull shade gave way to brilliant sunlight as the towering tomb came into view. Western and Asian tour groups, shrill guides, Bedouin hawkers, camels and donkeys all milled about, giving the site a liveliness that evoked the cosmopolitan bustle of Petra’s heyday.
And beyond the Treasury is an entire city of monuments carved into the mountains, and bearing the imprint of every subsequent culture that inhabited and visited the place, from Romans to the armies of Islam to the Sultan Baibars of Egypt to the European tourists that have been coming here since its rediscovery by Swiss explorer Johann Ludwig Burckhardt in 1812.
Like Petra, Jordan is a multi-layered place. Cultures, races, creeds, invaders and defenders, have clashed and co-mingled for centuries and have left behind an unbelievably rich legacy of myth and history, art and architecture. In our two days, we “yella-yella-d” as fast as we could, yet it felt like we had only floated across the surface, experiencing just a few highlights of a story that is as deep and wide, as dense, confounding and magical as the waters of the Dead Sea.
JORDAN Where to . . .
STAY
Rates at the five-star Kempinski Hotel Ishtar at the Dead Sea start from around €305-€332 with breakfast for single/double occupany in high season.
GO THERE
BMI flies from London Heathrow to Queen Alia International Airport in Amman. Return fares from £199 (€232) including taxes and charges. See flybmi.com.
John Lane was a guest of BMI and Kempinski Hotels