On the wall around Graceland, during my birthday trip there in 2011 with Jonathan, Alissa, and Kate. (After this picture was taken, I can clearly remember Kate saying, “Was the hand thing really necessary?” Yes. Always.)
On the grass near the port in Galway, on one bright, sunny Irish morning. (So green.)
About three months ago, I was in Petra. Today, I’m sitting in Washington, DC trying not to look longingly at pictures of the beach. Instead I’ll look at pictures of the desert.
During Alissa and Carlos’ trip here, we spent a few days in Jordan. We stayed in Aqaba, swam in the Red Sea, rode camels in Wadi Rum, and hiked around Petra.
For our visit to Petra, we hired a car and driver to take us there and back. We stopped along the way (obligatory tourist shop and bathroom break) — on one of the mountains in the background you can barely see Petra.
Our driver dropped us off outside the entrance (which was replete with Indiana Jones-themed gift shops and snack shops) and we bid him farewell for the day before heading through the gates.
Before you make it to the famous wadi, you walk or ride a horse along a trail for about 15 minutes (?I think?). Then, you have to abandon your horse and continue on foot into the narrow valley ahead.