From Taba to Petra in a Downpour

In Petra Under a Downpour 27 March 2010 That time we had chosen, with I Viaggi del Turchese, the tour I Tesori d'Oriente which, based in Taba, allowed us day trips each to Cairo, Taba and Jerusalem. We ruled out Cairo because we had already been there twice, while the next one to Jerusalem would have been thrilling for us who were visiting it for the first time. Crossing the border between Egypt and Israel was a completely new experience and very instructive about the relations between the various countries of this corner of the world. Having set off early in the morning from the Hotel Swiss Inn, at the little harbour of Taba we take the hydrofoil that will take us to Aqaba, customs formalities, and then by bus to Petra. Here, as soon as we got off the bus, it poured with rain.

We don't get scared, we buy the few umbrellas that can be found in a desert resort and off we go towards the Siq. The narrow path along the bottom of the Siq is invaded by a multitude of tourists trying in every way to avoid the river of water running through it. Luckily the remains of the Roman paved road are still there, allowing us to put our feet on something higher than the water. Where they exist we even walk on the low walls to avoid the water which, together with the little carriages, camels and horses, runs through the Siq. Torrents of water fall from the high rocks overhanging the gorge; knowing the dangers of the mountains when there are such downpours, I fear that rockfalls will fall from the walls together with the water. From hunters of photographs to bring home, we find ourselves, against our will, becoming the photographic subject of the residents.

Here it rains, or rather pours, once every ten years; the lack of water is a drama for the whole country, what better subject for a nice photo than the longed-for rain. For us who had to walk the whole Siq, pass by the Treasury, the colonnaded street, the theatre, the palace of the pharaoh's daughter, the whole Wadi Musa to reach our restaurant, it was a real tragedy. At the restaurant I try to dry myself as best I can with paper napkins that I slip in layers between my clothes and skin to feel a little less cold. I return along the same road with even heavier rain; luckily most of the tourists have gone and we can walk avoiding the deeper puddles. At 5 pm we get on the bus, which we flood. The soaked windbreaker protected only my shoulders, I'm soaked to the waist, camera and mobile phone are gone.

Only some photos were saved, which I publish; from the quality you can tell how reduced the camera and the memory card were. For years I've been doing long excursions in the mountains but here, only once, in the Brenta Dolomites, have I taken so much rain descending from the XII Apostoli refuge towards Madonna di Campiglio. For us who were worried about finding too hot an environment it was a real reversal, and thinking about it also a nice experience hard to repeat.