The call to prayer blasted some nearby speakers at 05:30, and then again just fifteen minutes later. I’d not been woken up by such a sound since Morocco. Fortunately it wasn’t long after this I’d planned on going out for a run anyway. Normally this would be my long run day, and I’d planned on doing eight miles today. The reality was though, with how much walking I’d done already, and how steep the hills here were, I didn’t feel that I could do that. It made more sense to me at the time to keep it short, and preserve my legs for the marathon in six days time. Perhaps the hills would make up for the lack of distance.

I repeated the loop I’d walked yesterday, and found this to be just two miles. Rather than go back to my room, I went straight to breakfast which was a mixture of hot and cold food. Nothing felt particularly appetising except for the pineapple. I had to eat something though, so had a cereal bar like I’d had a couple of times in Amman already - I’d need the energy for walking through the Petra Seeq today. Thinking ahead, I realised I should carefully plan what to do. I’d have four hours to see sights there today, and would be returning on what was forecast to be a brighter day, but I didn’t know how much time I’d have. Perhaps the best course of action would be to walk to the end and work my way back.

When I got to Petra I had to show my passport but I didn’t have it on me - it was in the car with Naser, who’d now left. Thinking quickly, I realised I’d got my driving licence on me, and fortunately that was enough. I moved quickly, hoping to not waste much time, and I had every intention of sticking to my plan. When presented with so many cave dwellings and small tombs on the way, I couldn’t help but take photographs. I photographed pretty much everything I could and even got a couple to take a photograph of me at some point after passing The Dam.

The passage through the rocks here weaved, and in places got narrower. It strongly reminded me of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade already, but was surprised by the ground being mostly concrete. That’s Hollywood for you. Eventually, I could see ahead of me through the narrow valley the definite features of Al-Khazneh; the Treasury.

It was truly amazing that the Arab Nabateans had carved this 45 metre high building into the rose coloured rock over two thousand years ago. I was in awe of its size, and the level of detail as well. I was quick to take a few photographs before any more tourists could arrive - there were already quite a few here. I thought that maybe afterwards I could climb up to a viewpoint for it, but a child ‘guide’ said I couldn’t go up there without a guide. One thing that the map of Petra says is to not encourage child labour here, so rather than ignore him or attempt to argue the case, I turned around and said “Fine, I won’t go up then.”

Beyond Al-Khazneh is a street of facades, and the start of the ‘High place of Sacrifice’ trail if I chose to walk it. The map said this is a hard hike, and should take up to four hours. I wasn’t sure if that was a round trip or not, and I was sure I could do it quicker than stated, but it wasn’t worth the risk of missing other things.

I found that opposite the trail start there was a way up to some other tombs, so I looked around those instead. At the top there was a tent with someone selling tea, and a view of the theatre. I realised I’d lingered here too long though, and needed to get moving if I wanted to make sure I’d get to see Ad-Deir; The Monastery. Of course that didn’t go to plan. I could have taken a camel or a donkey to make things go faster, but I wasn’t sure if it actually would be. It would however have stopped me from making as many extra stops and diversions as I did though.

I stopped a couple of times on the colonnaded street, and then up some very steep steps to look around The Great Temple, which had a small area being excavated by Brown University. Compared to the Nabatean architecture I’d seen so far, this area of Roman ruins was considerably different. I was amazed to find that a small section of wall even had the original paint of a fresco as well, open to the air and possible for people to touch.

On the way back down I saw a very tiny puppy that sounded like it was crying. Another tourist ran over to it and picked it up, holding it close to her before sitting down to give it some water and crisps. I made my way back down to the street and through the archway some cosplaying soldiers were standing guard over. This is where you can take a trail to Sabra, but again this being ten kilometres I wasn’t going to waste my time doing it. Instead I passed the camels and donkeys at Qasr al-Bint and climbed up once more behind where the restaurants were. I had misunderstood one of the signs there and had thought it the route to Ad-Deir, but it was a dead end.

When I returned back down to ‘the basin’ I noted that the restaurant there had free Wi-Fi - it could come in handy sometime I thought. I wasn’t sure if I’d get to the end of this trail or not as the map suggested it should take up to three hours. I decided where I got to by 11:00 is the point I’d turn back at. With a distance of only 2.5 kilometres it seemed to suggest that this would be quite a climb. It was. However, not as bad as the map suggests, and on the way up you pass quite a few Bedouin stalls until it opens up at the end of the canyon.

When I stepped out of the canyon I looked back behind me, and there it was: Ad-Deir. It really was an impressive sight, bigger than Al-Khazneh at least even if it wasn’t as intricately detailed. The biggest advantage here though was that it is so much quieter. Perhaps most tourists don’t like to do the long hike once they’ve already seen Al-Khazneh.

Around Ad-Deir there is another restaurant, but also many signs saying “best viewpoint in the world” and “best viewpoint in Jordan”. Which is fair enough, but they point in different directions. I went up to the closest one first, and could see not just into another canyon, but also beyond to another desert. It was so windy up there though, and the steps early on are a little precarious. I then continued on to another viewpoint with pretty much the same view, but I did help a couple of American pensioners find their way back onto the path.

It was then time to head back, with a little over an hour until I needed to be at the entrance. I felt this was plenty of time, so on my way back I stopped outside the restaurant to eat my packed lunch and use their Wi-Fi to check-in on the group I’d be joining in a few days. I thought maybe I could visit the Byzantine church on the way back, but as I realised how far off the main road this was going I turned back after a few minutes. This was then repeated for the royal tombs. These would both be places I’d need to try and see upon my return. This hesitation had taken up too much time and I’d now got twenty minutes to get back.

I walked fast enough to feel the strain in my calves, and broke out into the occasional jog to try and claw back some time. There were golf buggies whizzing up and down the route from Al-Khazneh to the Dam. It would have been so handy to jump onto the back of one of those. By the time I reached The Dam the time wasn’t looking good. I’d now got less than ten minutes to reach the exit.

12:00. I’d reached the horse stables. I was so close now, but I was late. Once I reached the gate I started jogging again to try to avoid that lateness being too bad, and then saw Naser parked up over the road. I was only three minutes late, but I felt guilty for that considering how many times he’d said to be outside at noon. It didn’t matter to him though, and he started the drive to the next destination.

The road we took was windier and narrower than the main road to the Dead Sea, but it was the most scenic one. I felt this drive would feel like a long one as his intermittent cough from yesterday was now sounding much worse, and his voice sounded rough. I hoped it wasn’t COVID-19 as even with a mask it’s not like I could avoid it for that long in a car. There was some reprieve from this though, as we made a stop overlooking Israel before driving down to the Jordan Valley highway.

Once onto the highway we followed the Arava Stream, and passed the Arab Potash Solar Evaporation Pens. It took us close to the Israeli border many times, and then the start of the lake known as the Dead Sea was beside us, and so shortly after what we could see was then Palestine. I’d hoped to visit both of those places on this trip, but I knew sadly I wouldn’t get to cross those borders this time. Instead, the winding coastal road continued on through a number of towns before we made one last stop to photograph the Dead Sea.

In total it had taken almost three hours to arrive at the Ramada Dead Sea from Wadi Musa. The entire hotel resort is surrounded by fences, and before we could enter the car park they checked under the car for bombs, and then at the entrance all bags had to be scanned. This was far stricter than anything I’d seen in Jordan so far. As my backpack went through I had to name the electronic devices in there, and my headphones too. They also told me I couldn’t use my DSLR camera at the pool or down at the beach. Fair enough I thought, I’d photograph the Dead Sea from elsewhere.

I said farewell to Naser as he was heading back to Amman now, and I headed to my room to get sorted. The restaurant here didn’t open until 19:00, reminding me strongly of Italy just a couple of months earlier. I didn’t really want to eat that late as I was already a little hungry, so thought I’d head into town to see what options I could find.

The receptionist had said it was a ten minute walk from the shuttle bus for the beach. On my way out of the hotel I stopped by the Chillax Lounge as I saw they did large slices of cake with a cup of tea for 5 JOD. It was perhaps a bit overpriced, but it was a nice treat after a tiring day.

When I got to the bus stop a man stopped me progressing any further, saying it was closed. What did he mean closed? I tried to explain I was going into town, but he wouldn’t listen so I went back to the lobby to double check that those clear instructions I’d been given weren’t wrong.

“I’m trying to get into town, but a man at the gate wouldn’t let me pass”

“He wouldn’t give you a towel?”

“No, he wouldn’t let me pass, to get into town”

“Towel? You can get it by the pool then go to the beach”

“I’m not trying to get to the beach, I’m trying to get to the town. Outside, not here”

“No you can only use our beach”

“No, shops, restaurants”

“They are here”

“I mean in the town, village”

“You can’t walk there”

“I can’t leave?”

“No, you use the beach here”

Feeling like this conversation was about to go full circle, I tried again, “You mean I’m stuck here?”

He paused, and looked like he was thinking about his answer, “It is seven kilometres, you have to take taxi”

“It’s okay, I won’t bother”

Feeling like I was stuck here, I realised my chances of running tomorrow were slim. The only way I could keep this run streak going now would be if I ran around the pool outside. I think I’d have to keep it to just one mile. The alternative would be to run from the Sydney hotel in Amman to reach the train station I wanted to photograph, and shower there as soon as it was an option.

I went back to my room and changed to head down to the beach of the deepest hyper-saline lake in the world. It’s also the lowest elevation on land of anywhere on Earth too at 398 metres below sea level. I figured I may as well see that now rather than tomorrow. I took my phone with me for photos, and walked down. It’s only ten minutes if you don’t take the shuttle, and I didn’t want to wait thirty minutes for that. As I got there it was almost 16:00 and they were closing up the hut that acts as a beach bar. There’s quite a few sun loungers there so I picked one near the water and left my things on top.

To start with I walked around and took some photographs, and then decided to go in the water. It’s a very pebbly beach so flip flops or sandals are recommended. First time I went in I didn’t use them and regretted it. I swam briefly to help adjust to the water temperature, and found in places the salt water stung. It wasn’t that cold really, possibly one of the warmer bodies of water I’ve been in. I then laid on my back and could just float with no effort. I stayed there relaxing for a while and I carried on drifting in the direction I’d been going when I’d stopped swimming.

After a while I noticed how far out I’d drifted and had to swim back to shore. For the last bit I let myself float there. I went out a second time in the roped off area and got one of the other hotel guests to take a photograph for me.

When I’d finished in the Dead Sea I found they got some showers I could use to get rid of the salt, and then walked back to the hotel to use the pool for a couple of laps. Their jacuzzi wasn’t worth using though as it was actually colder than the Dead Sea.

That evening, rather than wait for the restaurant to open, I ordered some food from the lounge: a chicken burger with potato wedges, though the actual order had fries instead when it arrived thirty minutes later. After that I relaxed from what had been a day filled with a lot of walking. I watched Transformers: The Last Knight on the TV.