My overly broad conclusion after meeting various Bedouins in Petra: those who half-heartedly attempt to sell objects d'art, such as miniature stuffed camels, are warm and hospitable, while those who rent donkeys are jerks.

She probably wasn't a complete jerk...but you never know

Heading toward the monastery trail

I wasn't committed to the idea of riding up to the monastery, just shopping around. I enjoyed how the locals, especially children, tried to advertise their donkeys as "air-conditioned taxis." But I soon decided that most of the donkey guys were pretty hateful. Mean to their animals, quick to belittle tourists (bite that hand!), and pushy in a way I hadn't really experienced since leaving Luxor. As daunting as climbing allegedly 800 steps in desert heat was, the annoyance of renting a donkey seemed worse.

About halfway up, I encountered two American women on their second day in Petra accompanied by a couple Bedouin boys they had met the day before. I joined them to better push myself through the hike.

Californian Rachel had been living in Jerusalem for a while and Arizona native Saundra was in the midst of an epic solo journey around the world—she had already completed 2 years of travels. I listened enviously to her tales of kayaking in India and jungle adventures in Vietnam, and wished I'd had time to spend 2 weeks in Dahab as she did. They met in Israel and enjoyed each other's company so much they decided to travel to Sinai and Jordan together.

800 steps starting...now!

Rachel was my age but had a more youthful disposition—she had to be coaxed into minor responsibilities, such as arriving on time for dives she'd already paid for; she would chase after lizards in the desert squealing with excitement; and she openly flirted with the local men when common sense dictated avoiding eye contact. She even wore makeup while hiking rugged terrain in 100-plus temperatures. I wondered if Saundra wished she could take a break from being the responsible one sometimes, but Rachel, for someone who was traveling independently, needed too much looking-after. On the plus side, she was really funny and friendly.

The climb up was fraught with melodrama... 23-year-old Adnan was crushing desperately on Rachel, while Saundra was exasperated with Rachel's inappropriate behavior after too many weeks together, but it was all pretty amusing and took my mind off the climb. We constantly dodged tourists uncomfortably perched on donkeys lumbering along the rocky path, grasping desperately at their swinging belongings. Occasionally, a nasty donkey driver would whack his steed with a stick as Rachel cried animal abuse. Adnan was passionate about the evils of Israel, while Rachel argued its merits. An 18-year-old Sami simply grinned all afternoon.

On the way up

Eventually Adnan blew—he had declared his love, and after 1 whole day of acquaintance, Rachel was still unable to reciprocate! Saundra and I uncomfortably edged forward on the path while Rachel argued that she had never misled Adnan. Sami grinned. Before I knew it, we had reached the monastery. The tragicomedy of Adnan and Rachel made the hour-plus climb fly by.

Al-Deir—the monastery—is a stunning sight. Petra's second-most famous façade, it is built on a colossal scale, cradled deep within the rock face. The setting is spectacular, with mountains rising up behind it, and looks best in afternoon light. Originally a tomb, Christians later turned it into a monastery.

View from our cave lunch spot

Adnan, acting very put-upon, stomped ungraciously up to a cave facing Al-Deir, where we ate the lunches we'd brought with us. We moved back outside when the stench of donkey urine intensified. Rachel and Saundra had actually come prepared with extra water, canned hummus, and cheese, while I snacked on a leftover fry sandwich from the previous night. Yes, I lunched on a smushed day-old hero stuffed with soggy French fries. Beggars can't be choosers.

Ego bruised, Adnan stormed off, while Sami hung around uncertainly. Rachel wheedled him to continue "guiding" us. We climbed farther to a spot I believe is known simply as the viewing place. As advertised, the vantage point over the valley was breathtaking.

Al-Deir from the viewpoint

Abid's shop (with Abid in shadow)

On this prime bit of 20x20 real estate, Adnan's cousin Abid had set up a shop. As in most alleged "shops" in Petra, goods and money were rarely exchanged. The whole concept was mystifying—who has ever bought a dusty jewelry box, a beetle ornament, or a chunk of Petra rock off a rickety card table randomly set up in the desert? All the tourists I saw seemed to be craving water over anything else. The shopkeepers tended to be more interested in chatting up foreigners over endless cups of shai than in making a sale. Yet it seems like someone somewhere at some point must have sold a refrigerator magnet shaped like Al-Khazneh, because so many locals seem to believe this is their best option for generating income.

Abid was eager to entertain us, but had only two cups for the three of us. While we took turns sipping the sickeningly sweet "Bedouin whiskey," he explained that Adnan is very young and was obviously taking things too seriously. Rachel nodded understandingly while proceeding to aim the full force of her flirt at Abid. I rolled my eyes toward Saundra so many times that they were in danger of popping out.

Abid and Sami tried to convince us that this spot had an amazing sunset. As appealing as that sounded, it was only 4pm and no one wanted to hike almost 2 hours back to the entrance in darkness. Time to move on. As the only person who had feigned interest in Abid's shop that afternoon had been a man with slight vertigo trying to distract himself from the view, Abid decided to close up. His beautiful donkey, which was clearly loved and well treated, waited patiently while Abid loaded his wares on its back.

As we meandered back toward the Monastery for a close-up look, Abid suggested climbing to the top of the Urn. This scramble up the rock face, which was much easier going up than down, is forbidden now but not enforced. According to Abid, several years ago a tourist stepped backwards carelessly while snapping photos and plummeted to her death. I felt like this little story could have waited until we returned to ground level.

The climb was nerve-racking but exhilarating, and as I cautiously leaned over the Urn's ledge and peered at the ant-like tourists far below, I was crushed that I ran out of film. Meanwhile, Abid tried to impress Rachel with his ability to climb up what I've chosen to call the steeple, dangling precariously while we screamed. When we noticed we'd inspired a few more people to ignore the "NO CLIMBING" signs, we dutifully descended.

Going back to central Petra doesn't really take any less time than going up. Adnan floated in and out, sometimes appearing at peace, sometimes still bitter, sometimes he'd walk with us in silence, sometimes he'd disappear. It was strange. Sami loyally stuck with us, as did our new buddy Abid. Donkeys flowed past, often driven by overenthusiastic children who'd seen one too many American cowboy flicks. Sami and Abid tried to persuade us to do the hike above the treasury. They claimed it would only be 45 minutes, but Saundra and I knew better; tired and craving ice cream, we headed on out and left energetic/spastic Rachel to do another hike.

Out in Wadi Musa, I tried to wait for Rachel with Saundra, but the "shuttle" (taxi provided by my hotel) was eager to get back, so I left Saundra there alone. I never knew if anything happened on the hike, but Rachel was pretty oblivious to danger and that approach seemed to work for her.

The monastery climb was hard but very gratifying. As always, it was an adventure. I learned that even enlightened independent travelers refuse to modify their behaviors while traveling. I learned through a smelly encounter that caves are essentially donkey garages. I learned that donkey guys are jerks. Also, there were some ancient carvings. It was a great first day in Petra.

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