Damascus, Quinetra, Palmyra and Amman
Hama is unlike any other city I have visited in Syria, peaceful, relaxed - the christian quarter lit up with Christmas lights, not a rare site in Syrian cities with their fair sized Christian population. The Hotel Cairo's excellent services and Ill admit television with English language films had me for a couple of days relaxtion. Damascus is very different city, the road between was the first real desert of the trip, Ive heard that it gets cold, this had snow on and I was glad to be safely and warmly ensconsed in a Syrian style luxury bus - couple of hours of travel for 90 Syrian pounds (90 pence stirling).
Damascus, Syria's capital is a combination of the Arabain city chaos with the gentle and hospitable people of Syria. I have yet to meet a Syrian I didn't like, okay - there's one, a taxi driver but I ll come onto that later and I havent yet met any other travellors who didnt feel the same way.
I stayed in Damascus for over 2 weeks, based in Souq Serouja, a relatively bohemian area a few hundred metres from the old town's Citadel and Souq. The Living Room Cafe, ably ran by Nidal and Ahmed ensuring my highest comfort and fantastic breakfasts for my stay - I was able to give Nidal a few saxophone lessons on the street, to the mirth of many, its been 5 months since I played and didnt sound much better so plans of busking in Damascus were shelved quickly.
Christmas came and went - hooked up with a few other travellors for a big meal, yet more great Syrian food, New Year a non event with me holed up in bed for a few days with the first real illness of the trip, appetite hasnt quite recovered yet, the food is very rich and without a kitchen its difficult to find simple food which isnt wrapped in flat bread. You may remember I fell out with bread some time ago.
Damascus was a good base to visit more of Syria's vast array of sites, the Roman ruins of Palmyra and the war ruins of Quinetra. Palmyra was one of a few ancient sites that I enjoyed, Quinetra is far more recent history which is far more real to me.
Quinetra, now controlled by the UN in a 'security zone' was levelled by Israeli bulldozers in 1992 during a conflict over Golan Heights. Both Egypt and Jordan have signed peace treaties with Isreal, Syria has not yet and there are a few formalities to undertake before visiting.
The Syrian ministery of the Interior is based in what looks like a large house near the Abou Romana district of Damascus, gun totting guards in casual dress patrol the pavement, armed with sub machine guns and the odd very big gun. Im totally desensitised to the sights of guns now, in London its very rare to see soldiers on the street and generally the police are not armed, although events in London over the past 12 months have affected that somewhat. I could imagine the Ministery of Interior was established in the house during one of the many coups of 20th century Syria and noone could be bothered to move it, nice area, good views of the city...
Political discussion is taboo for the masses unless you wish to express your support. Dissidents are locked up, no charge, no trial in a country with a foul human rights records - the only opinions I heard supported President Dr Bashar Al Assad and his late father on the basis they supressed the various irreconcilable factions of a country which would fall apart democratically, and if they were to be removed, domestically or internationally, religious extemists would take their place. I dont know enough to comment, evidentally there are many that think otherwise, but in a months trip Id be unlikely to gain the trust required before someone would eleborate on such thoughts.
Portraits of the late president and his second son, the current president adorn every roundabout and many car windows, some taxis/ microbuses favour the elder son, Basil who died in a car accident in 1994. Described as 'The Martyr' somewhat comically in my opinion - unless he died to highlight poor road signage. Basil was fathers choice as succesor but now Bashar was the heir apparent. Must of been a shock for him, trained as an Optician in London, preferring books and photography to the military he was thrown into a military academy in preperation to continue from his father who died in 2000. His story is unlikely, as is his portrait, a combination of Ian Rush and a Meerkat (Im in Jordan now...)
I met many other cyclists in Damascus, 3 of whom continuing onto Cape Town - good luck to y'all, you know who you are. Good to share tales.
Leaving Syria brought my first bad experience of a Syrian, a taxi driver. The buses were full, due to people travelling for Eid... having agreed what I felt was an inflated price for the journey from Damascus to Amman I strapped the bike to the roof of his aging American gas guzzler and we set off. Broke down 3 times, the boot flew open at high speed, stopped and searched at the border patrol where I was required to take the duty free fags on his behalf, another 4 boxes were stuffed behind the dashboard. Stopped for more than half an hour maybe 3 times whilst he chatted with friends in the restaurant. Having departed Damascus at lunchtime, we somehow arrived in Amman in the evening. My tolerance of these things has changed massivly since departing the UK, where Id ask for half my money back at least - the other passenger was more interested in the pornography he had on his mobile phone and asking me questions about English women.
Arriving at the beginning of the Eid holiday (Eid-al-Adha) wasnt so clever, might be a good time to get to Jerusalem, nothing is open bar a few restaurants and there isnt much to keep me in Amman. Eid-al-Adha is the Muslim feast of sacrifice, concluding the pilgrimage to Mecca, lasting 3 days it commemorates Ibraham's willingness to sacrifice his son, although prior to the sactrifice the voice of God is said to have told him a Ram would suffice... The slaughter of a Ram is central to Eid as I discovered in gruesome fashion leaving the hotel this morning, nearly slipping on the mess left after half a dozen rams were slaughtered on the door step, a pile of heads and intenstines proped up against the shop front delayed my breakfast appetite for a few hours.
Either Aqaba or Jerusalem tomorrow, all this free and easy travelling has left me impossible to make decisions...
Damascus, Syria's capital is a combination of the Arabain city chaos with the gentle and hospitable people of Syria. I have yet to meet a Syrian I didn't like, okay - there's one, a taxi driver but I ll come onto that later and I havent yet met any other travellors who didnt feel the same way.
I stayed in Damascus for over 2 weeks, based in Souq Serouja, a relatively bohemian area a few hundred metres from the old town's Citadel and Souq. The Living Room Cafe, ably ran by Nidal and Ahmed ensuring my highest comfort and fantastic breakfasts for my stay - I was able to give Nidal a few saxophone lessons on the street, to the mirth of many, its been 5 months since I played and didnt sound much better so plans of busking in Damascus were shelved quickly.
Christmas came and went - hooked up with a few other travellors for a big meal, yet more great Syrian food, New Year a non event with me holed up in bed for a few days with the first real illness of the trip, appetite hasnt quite recovered yet, the food is very rich and without a kitchen its difficult to find simple food which isnt wrapped in flat bread. You may remember I fell out with bread some time ago.
Damascus was a good base to visit more of Syria's vast array of sites, the Roman ruins of Palmyra and the war ruins of Quinetra. Palmyra was one of a few ancient sites that I enjoyed, Quinetra is far more recent history which is far more real to me.
Quinetra, now controlled by the UN in a 'security zone' was levelled by Israeli bulldozers in 1992 during a conflict over Golan Heights. Both Egypt and Jordan have signed peace treaties with Isreal, Syria has not yet and there are a few formalities to undertake before visiting.
The Syrian ministery of the Interior is based in what looks like a large house near the Abou Romana district of Damascus, gun totting guards in casual dress patrol the pavement, armed with sub machine guns and the odd very big gun. Im totally desensitised to the sights of guns now, in London its very rare to see soldiers on the street and generally the police are not armed, although events in London over the past 12 months have affected that somewhat. I could imagine the Ministery of Interior was established in the house during one of the many coups of 20th century Syria and noone could be bothered to move it, nice area, good views of the city...
Political discussion is taboo for the masses unless you wish to express your support. Dissidents are locked up, no charge, no trial in a country with a foul human rights records - the only opinions I heard supported President Dr Bashar Al Assad and his late father on the basis they supressed the various irreconcilable factions of a country which would fall apart democratically, and if they were to be removed, domestically or internationally, religious extemists would take their place. I dont know enough to comment, evidentally there are many that think otherwise, but in a months trip Id be unlikely to gain the trust required before someone would eleborate on such thoughts.
Portraits of the late president and his second son, the current president adorn every roundabout and many car windows, some taxis/ microbuses favour the elder son, Basil who died in a car accident in 1994. Described as 'The Martyr' somewhat comically in my opinion - unless he died to highlight poor road signage. Basil was fathers choice as succesor but now Bashar was the heir apparent. Must of been a shock for him, trained as an Optician in London, preferring books and photography to the military he was thrown into a military academy in preperation to continue from his father who died in 2000. His story is unlikely, as is his portrait, a combination of Ian Rush and a Meerkat (Im in Jordan now...)
I met many other cyclists in Damascus, 3 of whom continuing onto Cape Town - good luck to y'all, you know who you are. Good to share tales.
Leaving Syria brought my first bad experience of a Syrian, a taxi driver. The buses were full, due to people travelling for Eid... having agreed what I felt was an inflated price for the journey from Damascus to Amman I strapped the bike to the roof of his aging American gas guzzler and we set off. Broke down 3 times, the boot flew open at high speed, stopped and searched at the border patrol where I was required to take the duty free fags on his behalf, another 4 boxes were stuffed behind the dashboard. Stopped for more than half an hour maybe 3 times whilst he chatted with friends in the restaurant. Having departed Damascus at lunchtime, we somehow arrived in Amman in the evening. My tolerance of these things has changed massivly since departing the UK, where Id ask for half my money back at least - the other passenger was more interested in the pornography he had on his mobile phone and asking me questions about English women.
Arriving at the beginning of the Eid holiday (Eid-al-Adha) wasnt so clever, might be a good time to get to Jerusalem, nothing is open bar a few restaurants and there isnt much to keep me in Amman. Eid-al-Adha is the Muslim feast of sacrifice, concluding the pilgrimage to Mecca, lasting 3 days it commemorates Ibraham's willingness to sacrifice his son, although prior to the sactrifice the voice of God is said to have told him a Ram would suffice... The slaughter of a Ram is central to Eid as I discovered in gruesome fashion leaving the hotel this morning, nearly slipping on the mess left after half a dozen rams were slaughtered on the door step, a pile of heads and intenstines proped up against the shop front delayed my breakfast appetite for a few hours.
Either Aqaba or Jerusalem tomorrow, all this free and easy travelling has left me impossible to make decisions...
Mosque, Damascus

Sweet shop, Damascus

Dancing, Sword Fighting and Music, Damascus

Quinetra, ruined shop

View of the Citadel, Palmrya


Palmyra

Syrian Desert, Palmyra

Lazy cycling
