A History in Sand By Alison Buckholtz Special to The Washington Post Sunday, January 3, 1999; Page E01

Bedouin cowboys ride horses near the entrance of Petra. (By Alison Buckholtz for The Post)

The "rose-red city" of Petra, which flourished under Nabatean Arab rule from the 6th century B.C. until A.D. 106, is so pristinely preserved that it seems you'd need only round a corner to catch its former residents in conversation. In fact, Petra's overhanging cliffs and confined spaces create concert-hall acoustics, and often the "echoes of the past" are really just echoes of discussions held several feet ahead.

The past is present in Petra. After it was captured by the Romans in A.D. 106, it was ruled by Muslims (7th century) and later Crusaders (12th century). Petra's ruins were discovered by archaeologists in 1812. But, relatively speaking, these ruins are brand new. Nineteenth-century visits were limited to explorers, archaeologists and intrepid English gentlewomen of the sort usually encountered on the pages of Victorian novels.

Petra's distance from Amman, Jordan's capital, and later instability throughout the region kept visitors away. It has become a "destination," and Jordan's No. 1 tourist site, only in recent decades. But Jordan's 1994 peace treaty with Israel has delivered a small miracle for Petra's travel industry, allowing Israelis and thousands of Americans visiting Israel each year safe, legal and convenient passage for the daylong bus trip from Israel. Previously, most visi who wanted to see Petra needed to make a separate visit to Jordan.

Jordan, unlike so many Arab states, is "Western-friendly." Its proximity to Israel and Egypt, its people's easy grace (you'll hear "welcome, welcome" at every doorstep, restaurant and shop stoop) and the natural wonders within its borders make it a memorable stop on a Mideast tour or as a resting place on the way to countries farther afield.

Whether arriving from Jerusalem, Cairo, Amman or anywhere else, visitors enter Petra via a thoroughly democratic process. With the exception of the native "cowboys," all go into Petra on foot, through a single, narrow fissure known as the Siq. Upon emerging, the initial shock is just as universal: Carved entirely into sandstone and mountains and covering three miles of mystical, dusty land, Petra is a city that reveals its wonders as quickly as it hides its secrets.

Those secrets are locked in a series of buildings, temples, amphitheaters, monasteries, houses and roads glowing pink, red, orange or umber, depending on the height of the sun. The site is semiarid, and the friable sandstone that yielded to the Nabateans' tools is tinted in shades found only in poetry. Carvings of animals and human forms line the Siq, some rubbed almost smooth by centuries of sand. But it is the approach to Petra's Treasury building that is truly astonishing.

The Treasury dominates Petra. Little wonder it starred in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade"; this building is as rich and mysterious as biblical history.

Rich, yes, but not in riches. Inspired by classical Hellenistic architecture, the Treasury was created as a Nabatean king's tomb and also served as a temple. It stands more than 120 feet high, and its sharp angles, solid columns and ornate carvings are at odds with what we think of as desert architecture. It's easier to imagine such an imposing structure fashioned from marble, situated among palaces in Rhodes or Rome. Marble would certainly have repelled the scores of bullet holes that pockmark the Treasury's sandstone walls, evidence of raiders who thought their lost ark overfloweth with gold. But if there ever were treasures in the Treasury, nothing remains today.

Just paces beyond, the High Place of Sacrifice gives you room to ruminate. Few tourists thronging the Treasury hike this route. But the donkeys roaming the flat top of the mountain appreciate the company, and they're friendly enough to lick an outstretched hand -- especially one offering an apple.

It's easy to spot the Royal Tombs from the High Place of Sacrifice, but this is one time the bird's-eye view just doesn't compare. The Royal Tombs, a series of large structures carved, like everything else in Petra, into rock face, stand as elaborate monuments to the city's former leaders. Smaller, more weather-beaten tombs alternate with the Royal Tombs, and in each case the whorls and colorings of the sandstone are as vivid as a kaleidoscope.

The heart of Petra is its former marketplace. Its veins are the paved, colonnaded Roman roads, and the amphitheater, even today, beats with activity. Bedouin children beg for candy, money, T-shirts, baseball caps and anything else their hungry, roaming eyes light on. Groups of Japanese tourists demonstrate the finer points of chopstick use to their Jordanian guides. Concession stand owners hawk sodas in English, Hebrew and German, switching tongues with the linguistic dexterity of diplomats. (Hint: If you want a Coke, ask for cola. If you want a Pepsi, ask for cola. And if you want water, make sure it's bottled.)

The refreshments will come in handy during the one-hour trek up to the Monastery, the largest of Petra's temples. After the long hike, straight up and over thousands of small sandstone steps, the Monastery (named during the Christian Byzantine era) makes the Vatican look like a late-model condo development. The grandeur of the Monastery's natural setting, the closeness of the heavens, the seeming impossibility of the sandstone architecture and the Lilliputian smallness of visitors (who must scramble up a ladder just to stand in the Monastery's doorway) all enlarge our sense of what came before. Almost unconsciously, visitors turn away from the Monastery with a broader sense of the possible. And the ever-so-slightly shifting presence of a religious structure -- indeed, of a whole city -- made of sand stimulates imaginations unused to regarding the world in organic terms.

Trudge back to the entrance, overwhelmed and inspired. Petra's echoes now sound familiar. Stop to listen. It's not the former governor, and it's not the French family five paces ahead. It is the sound of time passing, as softly and stealthily as sand blurring ancient carvings.

Most visitors explore Petra -- about 4 1/2 hours from Amman, eight hours from Jerusalem (both via bus and cab) -- in a day, but to get an early start and leave the ruins by sundown, consider a two-night stay.

From Jerusalem, Egged, the national bus service, schedules trips to Eilat several times a day (no buses leave Friday afternoon or Saturday). The 4 1/2-hour ride is about $50. From there, hail a cab to Aqaba, at the Israel-Jordan border, where passport processing takes place. A Jordanian cab ride from Aqaba to Petra costs about $40 per carload for the three-hour ride. Israeli travel agencies offer package tours; these trips, which can run from $200 to $300, transport passengers to and from Petra in relative comfort and often within 24 hours.

Many hotels in Petra are run like upscale hostels, and typical rates are in the range of $15 single/$20 double. (Luxury hotels, such as the Petra Forum Hotel, run about $90 to $130.) Admission into Petra is almost $20 for a one-day pass, and exploring the city will take a whole day. Jordan requires a valid U.S. passport, a passport photo and a $44 entry fee, which pays for the visa. (The visa can be acquired at the embassy, consulates or any border.) Information: Jordan Tourism Board, 202-966-2664.

Alison Buckholtz last wrote about the Caribbean for Travel.