Long before guidebooks or travel blogs existed, the Jordan River served as a compass. Along its banks—where water divides desert and fertile land—some of the earliest narratives in pilgrimage history were written. By the 4th century CE, travelers from Jerusalem began crossing eastward, drawn by the mountains associated with the prophet Moses and the river site linked to the baptism of Jesus.
Modern Jordan preserves these locations with remarkable authenticity: rock-hewn monasteries, Byzantine mosaics that still tell ancient stories, and landscapes that retain a distinct sense of awe. Retracing their paths is not a religious obligation but an encounter with the earliest traditions of travel itself.
In the year 333 CE, an anonymous traveler from Bordeaux embarked on what is considered the earliest documented Christian pilgrimage itinerary. Known as the Itinerarium Burdigalense, his account resembles a Roman travelogue, recording distances and place names with pragmatic precision. After visiting Jerusalem, he descended to Jericho and continued to the Jordan River, where he briefly noted a church “ordered built by Constantine at the place where the Lord was baptized.”
That concise line—written over 1,600 years ago—is the first historical reference to Al-Maghtas, now a UNESCO World Heritage site. Located on the river’s eastern bank, Al-Maghtas preserves the remains of a Byzantine basilica, baptismal pools, and a quietude that defies centuries of change. For many, it remains the spiritual point of entry into Jordan.
Nearly a century later, a woman named Egeria transformed the way pilgrimage narratives were written. Likely originating from Galicia or southern Gaul, she journeyed to the Levant between 381 and 384 CE, driven by a mix of curiosity and belief.
Portrait attributed to the pilgrim Egeria. Public Domain
In Jordan, she climbed Mount Nebo—the ridge traditionally associated with Moses' final view of the Holy Land. She described “a small church at the summit of the mountain.” Today, the same panorama remains visible: the Jordan Valley, the Dead Sea, and, on clear days, the hills around Jerusalem.
Egeria continued southward to Wadi Musa, where local tradition placed the rock struck by Moses to draw water. Her account also includes some of the earliest mentions of Gilead’s shrines and the burial site of Judge Jephthah, on the eastern bank of the Jordan.
Modern travelers can follow what is now known as the Moses Trail, stretching from Madaba to Petra. Along this path, archaeology and landscape offer insights into the geography that shaped ancient narratives.
Around 520 CE, a monk named Theodosios compiled a guide titled De situ terrae sanctae ("On the Topography of the Holy Land"), attempting to catalog the sacred geography of the region. His work mentions Bethabara (modern Al-Maghtas), the thermal springs of Callirrhoe—frequented by Herod for their healing properties—and Mount Nebo, referenced as the "mountain of Moses."
This compilation influenced the creation of the Madaba Map, a 6th-century Byzantine floor mosaic depicting Jerusalem and the Jordan Valley. Preserved in the Orthodox Church of Saint George in Madaba, the map is a rare artifact of cartographic history. It remains a key site for understanding how religious memory and geographic precision were entwined in early Christian cartography.
Madaba’s mosaic continues to serve as a literal and symbolic map—a blend of stone, color, and direction rooted in devotion.
In the mid-6th century, another anonymous traveler—often called the Pilgrim of Piacenza—left behind a text filled with vivid, human details. He described the thermal springs of Moses at Zarqa Ma'in, where pilgrims bathed “in waters that healed both body and soul.” The springs still flow today, offering a geothermal retreat overlooking the Dead Sea, unchanged in their elemental appeal.
The Piacenza account also notes peaceful relations between local monastic communities and the desert tribes, referred to at the time as "Saracens." This early depiction of cultural coexistence reflects a layered, pluralistic Jordan—a crossroads of traditions long before the concept of interfaith dialogue emerged. Today, the descendants of those tribes—the Bedouin—remain stewards of hospitality in the desert.
The last of these early travelers was Arculf, a Frankish monk who visited the Jordan Valley around 680 CE, when the region was part of the emerging Arab world. His observations, dictated to Abbot Adomnán on the Scottish island of Iona, are meticulous. He measured the river’s width, described church ruins, and identified a monastery dedicated to John the Baptist near the baptism site.
Rather than a conquest narrative, Arculf's account captures continuity. Despite political transformation, the sacred geography remained intact, anchoring cultural memory across shifting frontiers.
From the Bordeaux pilgrim to Arculf, through the eyes of Egeria, Theodosios, and the Piacenza pilgrim, these early travelers were not merely locating sacred spaces—they were charting meaning. Each account contributed to a collective map of devotion, geography, and memory.
Contemporary travelers can follow their paths by focusing on three sites that encapsulate millennia of historical resonance:
Al-Maghtas, where still waters recall ancient rituals;
Mount Nebo, where the landscape unfolds in long, sweeping vistas;
Madaba, where the land itself tells stories in stone.
In Jordan, pilgrimage continues to be a journey through time—one where every trail, mosaic, and spring carries the imprint of those who walked before.