The morning after landing in Amman I was on the road heading west of Wadi Musa, off to the poor man's version of Petra. As usual, I brought just enough water to carry me about a quarter way there, and after 15km I was happy to humbly accept an invitation from a huge Bedouin family camped beneath the cliffs: I was just in time for mansaf. An old, white-bearded hajji ran the show seated on a rug, while his sons and daughters and little grandkids ran back and forth with the shay, gahwa, pepsi, flatbread and giant chunks of lamb, keeping my bowl endlessly full of rice and meat, and dousing it in fermented yogurt each time I paused to catch my breath.
Moving along, I'd soon reached the little siq of Little Petra. While entrance to Jordan's main attraction costs about $70, entrance to Little Petra is free. Although it wasn't too long ago that I visited Petra itself, I was still amazed by the smaller, less-ornate tombs of Little Petra, hewn out of the red rock with columns and facades, the details all faded and smoothed over the last two thousand years. There's no replacing Petra, but its little sister was worth the walk.
I thought I'd be spending some time in this town, but the plans have changed. It now looks like I'll be spending the next month or so working at a desert camp in Wadi Rum. I'm off early tomorrow morning.