The Dubai of its day, this ancient mini-Rome flies under the tourist radar
4 Admire one of the greatest spaces in all antiquity
Jerash's forum is oval shaped, although most Roman forums were rectangular, and it seems to anachronistically echo the Renaissance-era piazza fronting St Peter's Basilica in Rome. More than 90 metres long, the forum is embraced in a curve of pillars that throw changing shadows over patterned flagstones that radiate out from the centre. Through the pillars, you get views to ancient Jerash in one direction and the whitewashed hillside houses of the modern town in the other.
5 Pay your respects to Zeus, twice over
The Temple of Zeus sits on a small hill and, despite its dilapidation, still projects an impression of size, power and importance. Its building blocks look as if they were carved by giants, while fallen friezes are delicately carved with geometric patterns and flowers. Meanwhile, in the Upper Temple of Zeus only some columns remain, but at 15 metres high they're wonderfully impressive. Many more lie tumbled below like an outsized Jenga set on which lizards sun themselves.
6 Provide a small donation and see pillars shake
The Temple of Artemis has 11 surviving pillars, each elaborately carved from beautiful golden stone that glows under the sunlight. Guides like to insert coins into fissures in the column's stonework; their perturbing vibration suggests the columns are trembling too, even though they've stood there for 19 centuries. Is this a trick of a Jordanian guide, or a clever Roman architect? You'll be half doubtful, half delighted: something else in Jerash to amaze you.
7 Linger until late afternoon
Loading
Time your visit so you're still here when the sun is low and tour coaches have departed. As sheep's bells tinkle from surrounding hillsides, you might have the ruins to yourself but for prowling cats. The last of the souvenir sellers doze among fallen pillars. The late sun turns Jerash's stonework to gold. You'll get a fine and peaceful impression of the beauty, yet total abandonment, of this ancient city.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Sydney Morning Herald
3 days ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
This seaside European city has transformed from shabby to chic
It's been many years since I was last in Nice, and its transformation is both unmistakable and impressive. Traditionally, the French Riviera's humble (some might say shabby) seaside capital, overshadowed by its more glamorous neighbours Monte Carlo and Cannes, the city has been quietly reinventing itself as a sophisticated alternative to its glitzy cousins, with several five-star hotels opening in recent times. Here to celebrate Virgin Australia's return to long-haul flying via its new partnership with Qatar Airways, we're staying at one of these, the Anantara Plaza. It's a Belle Époque hotel set a block back from the Promenade des Anglais (and close to new designer stores along Rue Paradis), that has been smartly renovated in a collaboration by three different design and architecture studios. There are custom art pieces; bespoke furniture inspired by the hotel's coastal location, and references to local landmarks, such as the chessboard tiles in the entranceway that echo nearby Place Masséna. The rooftop bar and restaurant, Seen by Olivier, is the place du jour for sweeping views from the mountains to the Baie des Anges, the perfect accompaniment to your breakfast pain au chocolat or sunset glass of champagne. Not far away, the Hotel du Couvent, a former 17th-century convent set at the base of the Colline du Chateau, the hilltop park that dominates the old town, has undergone a meticulous and thoughtful €100 million renovation, which has taken it from derelict buildings to stunning 88-room hotel. Original colonnades and terracotta floors have been restored to reflect its monastic past, and it features three restaurants, multiple pools including Roman baths, a serene wellness studio for yoga (no unattractive weights room here) plus a bakery and a herbalist shop. Meanwhile Vieux Nice, the city's historic centre once characterised by narrow, car-clogged streets, is now a vibrant pedestrian-friendly zone, a modern tram system running through the city's revitalised core. History and tradition still abound, of course: perennial favourites in the old town are the Cours Saleya flower and produce market; Maison Auer, a rococo-decor chocolatier opposite the Opera House where candied fruits are considered a chic gift to buy, and Restaurant Acchiardo for its Nicoise specialties including stuffed vegetables and pan bagnat. Hole-in-the-wall Chez Theresa is the place to get your socca (chickpea flatbread/pancake) and pissaladiere (onion tart).
The Age
3 days ago
- The Age
This seaside European city has transformed from shabby to chic
It's been many years since I was last in Nice, and its transformation is both unmistakable and impressive. Traditionally, the French Riviera's humble (some might say shabby) seaside capital, overshadowed by its more glamorous neighbours Monte Carlo and Cannes, the city has been quietly reinventing itself as a sophisticated alternative to its glitzy cousins, with several five-star hotels opening in recent times. Here to celebrate Virgin Australia's return to long-haul flying via its new partnership with Qatar Airways, we're staying at one of these, the Anantara Plaza. It's a Belle Époque hotel set a block back from the Promenade des Anglais (and close to new designer stores along Rue Paradis), that has been smartly renovated in a collaboration by three different design and architecture studios. There are custom art pieces; bespoke furniture inspired by the hotel's coastal location, and references to local landmarks, such as the chessboard tiles in the entranceway that echo nearby Place Masséna. The rooftop bar and restaurant, Seen by Olivier, is the place du jour for sweeping views from the mountains to the Baie des Anges, the perfect accompaniment to your breakfast pain au chocolat or sunset glass of champagne. Not far away, the Hotel du Couvent, a former 17th-century convent set at the base of the Colline du Chateau, the hilltop park that dominates the old town, has undergone a meticulous and thoughtful €100 million renovation, which has taken it from derelict buildings to stunning 88-room hotel. Original colonnades and terracotta floors have been restored to reflect its monastic past, and it features three restaurants, multiple pools including Roman baths, a serene wellness studio for yoga (no unattractive weights room here) plus a bakery and a herbalist shop. Meanwhile Vieux Nice, the city's historic centre once characterised by narrow, car-clogged streets, is now a vibrant pedestrian-friendly zone, a modern tram system running through the city's revitalised core. History and tradition still abound, of course: perennial favourites in the old town are the Cours Saleya flower and produce market; Maison Auer, a rococo-decor chocolatier opposite the Opera House where candied fruits are considered a chic gift to buy, and Restaurant Acchiardo for its Nicoise specialties including stuffed vegetables and pan bagnat. Hole-in-the-wall Chez Theresa is the place to get your socca (chickpea flatbread/pancake) and pissaladiere (onion tart).
The Age
4 days ago
- The Age
New hiking trail puts forgotten part of Europe on the map
After skirting an armed border control point guarding a mountain pass leading to Russia, we get our first glimpse of Ushba glacier, a minty white ice flow that tumbles down the mountain's western flank. The 12-kilometre return hike is a good warm-up for the next few days, where we'll push higher and deeper into the scenically extravagant Greater Caucasus, a 1200-kilometre-long mountain range stretching from the Black Sea to the Caspian Sea. Mestia is the region's gateway, an unexpectedly cosmopolitan ski town with modern hotels, atmospheric restaurants and an intriguing architectural mishmash of ancient stone towers and wooden alpine chalets. From Mestia, we spend three days hiking to Ushguli, a journey that plunges us into a buckling landscape of forested ravines and raging glacial rivers. Along the way, there are taxing climbs over mountain passes (the highest is 2720 metres), but the reward is normally a stupendously scenic lunch spot with a panoramic view of a squirming glacier or a peak-studded horizon. Afternoons are then spent descending on trails through autumn-tinged beech forests, occasionally passing fields dotted with clanking cattle and skittish wild horses. En route, we encounter hikers from all over the world. One day, I pass a shirtless Russian man and his two children; on another we meet a group of young Spaniards drinking red wine and playing chess. While we use horses to cross a freezing glacial stream, a mother and daughter from Latvia nonchalantly wade across in sandals. 'It's OK,' says the daughter, noticing my concern. 'At home, we go ice swimming.' Accommodation is what you'd expect to find in remote mountain communities with only a handful of families – rustic and welcoming. We stay in a series of small guesthouses with basic rooms and shared facilities. Days start with a generous spread of homemade bread, cheese, salads and cake (a breakfast item I enthusiastically endorse) and end with a table-filling array of soups, curries, beans and potatoes. A few of us bravely try the local wine, which on one occasion is dispensed – somewhat alarmingly – from a recycled soft drink bottle. Georgia claims to be the oldest wine-making culture in the world. But despite 8000 years of practice, its traditional amber wines, produced by fermenting juice, skins and stalks in underground clay pots called qvevri, can often be challenging. A side product from this endeavour is chacha, a grappa-like digestif so potent you completely forget about the taste of the wine. We learn more about the wine-making process during an enjoyable lunch at Merebashvili's Marani, a family-run winery in the small town of Kaspi. Owner Lasha Merebashvili explains that Georgia used to have about 550 grape varietals but many were wiped out by two devastating viruses called 'phylloxera and communism'. It's hard to escape the frequent reminders of Russia's legacy, from the striking Soviet-era bas-reliefs in Tbilisi to the Cyrillic writing on gravestones. Even at mealtimes, it's rare not to be offered a variant of the traditional Russian salad of potatoes, carrot, pickles and egg. Perhaps the most contentious legacy we see is an EU-built settlement housing some of the estimated 200,000 Georgian refugees who were displaced by Russian incursions during 2008. Deemed by Georgia to be occupied territories, the 'autonomous' regions of Abkhazia and South Ossetia account for almost 20 per cent of the country. Guide Lasha Udzilauri, who grew up under Russian rule, can still remember the crime-ridden 'dark days' after the Soviet Union crumbled when there were long lines for bread and there was no electricity. On the way to Mestia, we stop in Gori, the birthplace of Stalin, to visit a museum containing the two-room wooden hut in which he was born and the armoured train carriage he later used for transport. 'Many of the older generation are proud that Stalin was from Georgia,' Udzilauri says, 'but they have Stockholm syndrome from this time. The younger generation are different – no one can be a dictator of them.' During Soviet rule, religion was outlawed, so most of Georgia's churches were turned into stables or toilets. Thankfully, two of the most significant examples that survived are now preserved as UNESCO World Heritage sites. The hilltop 6th-century Jvari Monastery contains some of the earliest examples of Georgian writing and the 11th-century Svetitskhoveli Cathedral claims to be the final resting place of Jesus' robe. Equally astounding is Uplistsikhe, a sprawling set of cave dwellings near Gori that date from the 1st century BC. While these ancient sites are undeniably impressive, I'm more intrigued by the country's recent history and the enormous economic, social and cultural changes that have occurred since it left the Soviet Union in 1991. We see evidence of this in Tbilisi, where there are striking contemporary buildings alongside brutalist Soviet edifices. And even in remote regions like Upper Svaneti, people are being lured back to breathe new life into abandoned villages. On our penultimate night in Mestia, two of us head to the local cinema after dinner to watch Dede, a 2017 film by Mariam Khatchvani about the life of her grandmother. Set in and around Ushguli during the 1990s, it's a heart-wrenching portrayal of a gruelling existence punctuated by family feuds, murders and kidnappings. Afterwards, I take a late-night stroll along the deserted main drag, past swish restaurants, stylish cafes and even a co-working space. And then, out of a side street, a boy appears with four cattle, which he proceeds to usher down the main street using a stick. It's a surreal sight – a ghost from Georgia's past walking towards its fluorescent-lit future. The details
