A day trip to Petra is easy: You get up at 5:00 a.m. to get ready and get to the Jett bus station in Amman by 6:30, which is when the bus leaves. There you join a bunch of other yawning and crazy tourist who think that a day trip is a good idea. If you’re lucky, you bring your children. And if you’re really lucky they’re tired and cranky and fighting before the sun has even risen.

This was us and we were on our way to Petra for the day.

The bus ride from Amman to Petra takes three hours and when Sophia complained about being cold I told her to enjoy it and remember what it felt like later in the day when we were engulfed in the desert sun. (She wouldn’t of course. And hours later, complaining of the heat, I reminded her of the cool morning. “Dad,” she said, “Stop. It doesn’t work. I was cold in the morning and now I’m hot.” So it goes.)

Kacey and I had been to Petra in 1993. While the ancient rock buildings hadn’t changed much, the town of Wadi Musa just outside the entrance had. There were easily twice as many resturants and hotels and there had been 13 years ago. There were more tourists and more tourist hustlers too. Two of them, Uthman and his brother Ahmed latched onto us like a shackle.

We had stopped at the ampitheter, which back in its prime held 4,000 guests. Today, it held only a dozen tourist, three of whom were Kacey, Sophia and Emma. I stayed on the outside to take their picture. That’s where I became surrounded by boys on donkeys, making their various sales pitches for a donkey ride. When I told them in Arabic that I didn’t need a donkey ride and that I was just waiting for my wife and children, Uthman, who was about 12, became my best friend.

He called me “Musri”, which means “Egyptian” because I used mostly Egyptian words when I spoke with him.

Uthman liked to laugh and slap hands. He spent his days riding a donkey and hustling tourists. For sure, I was just another tourist. But I was also a big white guy who talked like an Egyptian and that was pretty damn funny.

While we were waiting for Kacey and girls to come out of the ampitheater, a middle aged man came up and began yelling at the kids. I didn’t understand what he was saying. Uthman pointed at me and yelled back. The guy left and went after some little girls who were carrying boxes of rocks and trinkets. They ran away from him giggling.

“Who is that man?” I asked.

“He’s like the police,” Uthman said.

“But not a policeman?”

“No, not a policeman.”

“I think he is a little bit crazy,” I said.

Uthman laughed and held his hand up for a slap.

Later, on our way to the monestary, Uthman would whisper, “The crazy man is behind us,” then begin laughing again.

We bargained a price for Uthman and his brother to take the girls on donkey to the monestary then back to the Khazneh, which is at the beginning of Petra.

[For more information about Petra, go to: http://www.kinghussein.gov.jo/tourism6d.html]

Hiking to the monestary is easy: you only need to climb 900 crumbling steps. If you want to get some good exercise and lose some weight, I recommend doing it in during the hottest part of the day as we did. It’s definitely worth the view and the risk of heat stroke. And if you really want a workout, I suggest wearing a heavy back pack and trying to keep up with two young boys who are charging off ahead with your children on donkeys.

The girls did amazingly well. All in all we spent 7 hours in Petra before boarding the bus and heading back to Amman where we arrived home at 9:00 p.m., tired, hot and hungry.