I am writing this post as I have just a few hours left in this city on the edge of the desert that has come to be my home. I have had often confused feelings about this place, I guess like a love affair. Aside from big and complex issues, such as the continuing constraints on political and sexual freedom, I see many bad points and nuisances - for example, the shebab who drive the foreign girls crazy with their stares, harassment and even, in a few cases, assault. Then there is the oppressive heat. It hasn't dipped below 30C since April, and this week saw the first rain in four months. The Barada river has dried to a black trickle whose terrible stink has acquired such potency that it now has a physical force that hits you.
Nevertheless, this most ancient of all cities definitely has something, a mysterious feling which remains elusive and hard to define. Maybe I remain wedded to an Orientalist love of the exotic - certainly some of the appeal of Syria lies in it's 'otherness' related to the UK (though, paradoxically, much also feels familiar). But, I think, it is something greater than that. My best guess is that life is somehow warmer here - both climatically but also emotionally. Here I shed the breathless rush of London life, slowed down and savoured life - the smile of a stranger offering a glass of tea and the chat, the taste of a falafel sandwich or the apple-flavoured smoke from a nagileh, the ripe orange glow of the sunset behind the silhouette of the city and the plump bright moon suspended in the indigo sky.
Damascus, I'll miss you, but do not fret - I shall return!
Shout Outs to:
The Bab Saghir Posse: Brett, Dan, Jan, Manaf, Matteo & Laure, Rory, Somi, Munir & Paul ("nobody expects the BFLL")
Abdullah Ar-Rabie, Abudeh, Al Jazeera International Crew ("does it go up and down?"), Ali Mu'allim, Amelie, Amin, Andy and Bastian, Arbi, David, Fabian, Faisal, Felix, Frank, Hadi, Jackson, Jan (Lux), Joe, Jonas, Josef, Leah, Martina, Mayad and the Star-Crossed Lovers crew, Mohammed(s), Mohanned, the MSF Peeps (especially for those crazy moves on the Cave de Baal dancefloor), Naaz, Omar, Raf and Zaid.
Big hugs to Bencestan: Alina, Bence "El Presidente" & Queen Hermina, Dan, Ilaria, Ingrid & Eirin, Menno, Paul & Anna, Yasar and Claudia.
In the meantime I have more to add in the coming days, charting some of my last days in Damascus. Beyond that I think I will keep the blog going in anticipation of my return.
23 August 2006
19 August 2006
Road Trip: Syrian Compass Points (Updated with pics)
I’m sitting here in the courtyard of my Damascene home, on a Saturday afternoon, listening to music and coming to terms with the fact that soon I shall be leaving this place to return to the country of my birth, England. Life here has not always been easy – it has been full of frustration and challenges. Yet I have also experienced great friendship, hospitality and stimulation here, these things it will be sad to leave behind. Yet this feeling is bittersweet, compensated for by the anticipation of seeing all my friends and family back home whose company I have missed a lot.
Thinking about my homeland is made all the easier because today, for the first time in months, there are clouds in the sky over Damascus. The last time I saw clouds was by the Mediterranean Sea, in Lattakia in north-western Syria about ten days ago. Thus the clouds also serve as a reminder that I really must press ahead and finish off the long-promised write-up of my road trip around the compass points of Syria, the country I have called home for the last five months.
Love to y’all (whether you're in Syria, Singapore or Surrey),
Dave
PS: Raf is also working on a write-up of his own thoughts about the trip. When he has sent it to me I will publish it here, as a guest commentary, so that you get an alternative perspective on the same places and events.
PPS: Most of the photos in this post are courtesy of Raf.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Raf and I had spent a few days hanging about in Damascus, giving him time to acclimatise, and for me to say goodbye to some good friends who were leaving Damascus to move onto new adventures (Dan to Jordan, Munir to Lebanon).
Then we decided the time was ripe to set out on a planned epic trip around Syria. As a prelimiary we took a trip to the National Museum in Damascus, where we could see artifacts from many of the places we were hoping to visit: from ancient and enigmatic civilizations in the Euphrates valley to Hellenistic and Roman Syria (below) and on through the advent of Islam to the modern era. It was a good taster of some of what was to come.
Therefore, at lunchtime on 4th August, we negotiated through the bustle and the touts of the sprawling and confusing Harasta bus terminal and caught a luxury (i.e. air-conditioned) coach to Palmyra/Tadmur.
Palmyra (again): 4-5 August 2006
I don’t really have much new to say about Palmyra that I didn’t already say in a previous post. Needless to say the ruins are still awe-inspiring and it’s still very nice to watch the sunset from the castle.
It was perhaps, a little quieter than when we were there before, but it was fairly quiet back then too. The street traders were still desperately trying to eke out a living selling silly trinkets and camel rides to the trickle of tourists wandering around the ruins, but they did not detract too much from the splendour of the extensive historical site.
We only spent one night and a morning in Tadmur, during which we saw a little more than had been possible the previous time I was here (one extra underground tomb, and a bit more of the ruined city, including the market place and assembly hall). Then we caught another coach travelling deeper into the Syran desert, heading for a rendezvous with the Euphrates river.
Deir Az-Zur: 5-6 August 2006
We got off at Deir Az-Zur – straight into the office of a local policeman. But it was fine, he was just logging the foreigners who were coming onto his patch. I guess he was more concerned about stopping (or at least controlling) the flow of young men coming to volunteer to fight for the insurgency across the border in Iraq, just over 100km away, than with two young Brits coming to look at old ruins. I guess that we didn't fit the profile of potential suicide bombers so, after briefly taking down our details, we were soon on our way.
Deir Az Zur turned out to be an interesting place. It’s a busy market town of about a quarter of a million inhabitants, that was apparently something of a boon town in the 1990s. However, it still feels pretty much off the (relatively lightly trodden) Syria tourist circuit.
The souq is very busy, populated with a mixture of people. A high proportion of the women are totally covered, but the infamous black chador is a rarity here. Instead the clothes were beautifully decorated and brightly coloured in greens, reds, blues and black. Many girls wore plastic flowers in their hair and were heavily made up as if going to a wedding rather than just to the market. Then again, maybe it's the place where they find their future husbands so I guess it's not so different after all.
The people at the budget hotel were lovely – so kind and friendly. We ended up having an impromptu joint language lesson – in English and Arabic. One man offered to put me up at his house free of charge in exchange for months of English lessons!
The town is nestled against the south bank of the Euphrates River which is a very impressive sight. It’s almost half a km wide, fast moving and full of islands and positively humming with life.
We had a nice meal in one of the huge restaurants on the banks of the river, the air around us full of bugs. Even at ten at night it was horrendously hot. Thanks to the proximity of so much water it was also uncomfortably humid. There was a constant flow of sweat over our bodies just sitting down and eating. Needless to say our sleep was disturbed.
Sweat-drenched and sleepless, we opted out of heading further east for a day trip to the ancient site of Mari and the Hellenistic/Byzantine ruins at Dura Europos. The fact that our plan to take the sleeper train to Aleppo was scuppered by the fact that there were no longer any trains to Aleppo was our excuse, which meant we had to catch a bus during daylight hours. However, in reality I don’t think Raf and I could bear the idea of spending the day walking around the desert being roasted.
Whilst planning our next move we sat in one of the many juice bars that you find in all Syrian towns, just south of the central square and souq. It suddenly struck me what a surreal scene it was. There was I, sipping a fruit cocktail with my friend from London, talking on my mobile to Claudia in Damascus whilst two teenage girls in niqab (face covering), shyly glanced in our direction and giggled.
I was longing to get out of the desert, but it was a little sad to leave Deir Az-Zur so soon. It left a pleasant impression on both of us. Instead we took a bus, following the thin line of green vegetation that clings to the banks of the Euphrates as it threads it’s way through an otherwise dry landscape. This was an epic 5-hour journey. To kill the time I watched some of the Egyptian film that was showing on the TV screens. Hobak Naar (Your Love is Fire), a recent hit starring Mostafa Amar and Nelly Kareem, was a retelling of Romeo and Juliet, transplanted to modern-day Alexandria, this time with a happy ending.
Finally we left the river behind, entering the greenary and hills of northern Syria. Eventually the Citadel of Aleppo appeared on the horizon, like an island above the urban sprawl and pollution mist spread out below it. It was an impressive sight.
Aleppo: 6-8 August 2006
We arrived in Aleppo, the city of 3 million that is often described as Syria’s economic capital, in the early evening. We arranged a room in one of the many hotels around Sharia Baron, just north of Aleppo’s Old City. This part of the city is home to all the budget hotels and tyre shops, and also has many fruit juice bars and cinemas (below). It's an eclectic, busy place.
Once we had offloaded our bags we headed to Jdeideh, an old residential part of the city (17th, 18th Centuries), which is now one of the centres of the nightlife. It’s full of cafes, restaurants and bars and really comes alive after dark, with glammed up families, couples and groups of young people strolling, posing and hanging out. Here we had a rooftop dinner soundtracked by the greatest naff Western love Songs album in the world… ever! part 3 (i.e. Celine Dion, Robbie Williams, Chris De Burk). The music may have been bad but the food – a mix of French and Italian – was superb, and the view of the city’s skyscape was fantastic.
Neither Raf nor I were up for late one - a combination of lack of sleep and long travels meant we were knackered - so we foresook the Aleppan nightlife and headed back to our hotel relatively early. There I engaged in a brief chat with some of our neighbours (2 Syrians and an Iraqi), who ended up trying to convince me to become a Muslim and marry a Syrian girl (I did say it was a brief chat!).
The next day we spent mainly in the Old City of Aleppo. Aleppo’s citadel and souqs I have already discussed. I’ll just add that the souqs seemed a little quieter than when I had previously been there back in April. We were told by one shopkeeper that business was bad at the moment – he blamed the war in Lebanon for keeping the tourists away.
After two days in Aleppo we felt it was time to move on. I really loved the place, far more than during my previous visit, and could've stayed longer to explore it in more detail. However, we only had a limited amount of time in which to complete our circuit of Syria. Therefore, we packed our bags and headed to Aleppo train station. We had decided to take the scenic – but slow – train ride through the Jebel Ansariyya which divides coastal Syria from the interior. It was nice to take a train which people still stopped and waved at, as we wound our way past the villages in the Orontes valley and in the hills. The highlight was seeing the sunset over the mountains.
Lattakia: 8-9 August 2006
Lattakia is a prosperous, trendy place (population: about 400,000) that prides itself on its liberalism and shows little sign of its ancient past – just a few Roman columns standing in the city centre remind you that Laodicea was an important port in Seleucid and Roman times. Instead its architecture mainly consists of bland concrete apartment blocks, reminiscent of Lebanon less than 100km down the coast. The people are more likely to be clad in Western labels than in traditional jalabiyya or abiya. The hijab count is very noticeably down on the rest of Syria. I got the impression that the people of Lattakia pride themselves on their sophistication and modernity. Nevertheless, despite it's reputation, it's not all champagne and caviar - we saw several poor people wandering through the streets scavenging through rubbish. However, relatively speaking, this is still the home of Syria's bold and beautiful.
On the first night we wandered around the centre of town, checking out the cool kids and the nice restaurants, before ending up on the Corniche where we had a fruit juice and smoked an apple flavoured nargileh (water pipe). However, this was hardly comparable with Beirut's famous seafront promenade. Instead of picturesque views of the beautiful blue Med, we were afforded prime views of the cranes and machinery of the modern port which intrudes between the city and the sea.
Another surprising thing was how soon everything closed down. Not long after midnight the vibrant city centre had become a virtual ghost town - not exactly 24 hour party people!
The following day we took a microbus up to Kassab, a pretty little mountain village just a few km from the Turkish border. We climbed up into the mountains overlooking the town, and enjoyed the views and the relatively cool air.
However, because there was basically nothing else to do there, we didn't hang around for long. Within a couple of hours we were on board a microbus heading back – this time to the beach. Syria’s premier coastal resort (Shaat al-Azraq - the Blue Beach), wouldn’t win any prizes for cleanliness, and we heard that there are more beautiful beaches further up the coast, but it was still great to enjoy an afternoon by the Mare Nostrum.
The beach was fairly crowded with families. The bikini and bathing suit count was nil. Women bathed in the sea still wearing their hijab (head scarves) and jalabiyya (full length robes).
I guess the sophisticated young Lattakians were sticking to the private beaches and not mingling with the tourists from other parts of Syria. In this sense it was more Great Yarmouth than St Tropez!
In the early evening we befriended a couple of young lawyers from Lattakia. Together we sat on the rocks, watching the sunset whilst sharing a nargileh, drinking Arabic coffee and eating fruit grown in the garden of one of the men.
We talked in a broken Arabic-English about our respective countries, the war in Lebanon, and our travels. It was only soured by the fact that after we parted company we arranged to meet later in town for a drink – a commitment that they did not honour. Maybe the Syrian paranoia got the better of them – who knows. We even briefly wondered if they might have been secret policemen – viewed through this lens their seemingly innocent request to look at the pictures of our travels became transformed into a well executed and friendly interrogation.
However, we soon dismissed all these silly thoughts and grabbed a drink in a US-themed café/diner frequented by the cool kids, which to us seemed a little tacky. Then we headed for a quiet restaurant for an amazing feast of grilled fresh fish and mezze – hummous, moutabbel and fattoush. It was a real treat, well worth the price of admission. Then we retired to our hotel to nurse our full bellies, too stuffed to face the idea of a staying out. This was just as well because, as with the night before, Lattakia was not exactly jumping at 1:00!
Qal'at Salah Ad-Din: 10 August 2006
The next day we headed back into the Jebel, this time bound for Qal’at Salah Ad-Din (Castle Saladin). This former Crusader castle fell to the legendary Kurdish warrior after a siege of just two days in 1188. It’s a huge castle, located in beautiful green hills covered with pine forests. It’s main feature is the fact that it is built on a ridge, with natural cliffs on two sides, and the third side protected by an impressive man-made chasm carved out of the rock (below). 
Unfortunately, the lower castle is ruined and overgrown, and thus inaccessible. However, we still spent a happy couple of hours exploring the upper castle, enjoying the panoramic views of the landscape and trying to avoid vertigo as we looked down from the battlements into the sheer drops on all sides. 
Then it was time to head from the verdant landscape of Syria’s Med coast and return to the desert conurbation where I live. This meant another long and relatively uneventful coach ride.
Bosra: 13 August 2006
After a couple of days of partying in Damascus (bon voyage Fabian!) we took a day trip southwards to Bosra near the Jordanian border. Its another Roman/Byzantine ruined town, much like Palmyra but considerably smaller, and mainly built of black basalt, which contrasts quite dramatically with the deep red soil of the fields in the surrounding countryside. However, unlike Palmyra, people still live amongst the ruins, giving the place more of a sense of living history.
The main place of interest is the well-preserved Roman theatre. It is protected by a fortress which was added in the 11th-12th Centuries. It's quite wonderful to emerge from the dark tunnels of the Arab fortress into the space and light of the auditorium. This was one of the biggest of its kind in the world, with a capacity of about 15,000 spectators (note: this was a theatre designed for staging dramas and not an amphitheatre, which were often considerably bigger and where more brutal events, like gladiatorial contests, were held).
Then, leaving the theatre/fortress and heading to the Old City, it was interesting to wander for a while amongst the jumbled mix of ancient ruins and buildings still being used as contemporary shops and houses, down Roman colonnaded streets (below) and over crumbled down buildings. 
Within the Old City is the ancient monastery (below) where, according to legend, a young caravan leader called Mohammed met the Christian monk Bohira. This Mohammed went on to become a great Prophet and the founder of Islam, which meant that there were a number of early mosques in Bosra, though the earliest still standing dates back to the 12th Century.
On the way home I struck up a conversation with the man sat next to me. It turned out he was an Ancient History professor from Baghdad University who was on a holiday in Syria with his wife and two young daughters. I started to talk about the Iraq war, and apologise for the behaviour of the idiot Bliar, but he soon changed the subject back to more comfortable territory. I had a moment of realisation that I had been a little insensitive. My clumsy attempt at compassion had actually come across as pity, reducing his dignity, and briefly broken the holiday spell whereby the troubles in his homeland were but a distant, almost forgotten nightmare. Thus the rest of our conversation lingered on our mutual interest in the ancient history of the region.
As we got off at Baramke bus station in Damascus he expressed the hope that one day soon Iraq would be safe enough for me to visit it. Then we parted company with “anta sharif’ – the Iraqi equivalent of best wishes. The encounter had made me feel a little sad. I thought of the contrast between the peace of Syria and the daily bloodbath on the streets of Baghdad and hoped that this learned and courteous man and his family remain safe and well.
This encounter brought to an end our thrilling ten day trip around many of the main sights and places of Syria. Overall we had a fantastic time. Being outside Damascus, and its attendant high number of English speakers helped to consolidate my Arabic skills to date (still pretty limited, but at least able to get us from A to B without too much trouble). Everywhere we went we were greeted by friendly courteous people, many of whom were very keen to chat about a host of topics (but especially politics). If I ever had any doubts, this trip certainly cemented my deep interest in the history, politics and culture of this region.
Thinking about my homeland is made all the easier because today, for the first time in months, there are clouds in the sky over Damascus. The last time I saw clouds was by the Mediterranean Sea, in Lattakia in north-western Syria about ten days ago. Thus the clouds also serve as a reminder that I really must press ahead and finish off the long-promised write-up of my road trip around the compass points of Syria, the country I have called home for the last five months.
Love to y’all (whether you're in Syria, Singapore or Surrey),
Dave
PS: Raf is also working on a write-up of his own thoughts about the trip. When he has sent it to me I will publish it here, as a guest commentary, so that you get an alternative perspective on the same places and events.
PPS: Most of the photos in this post are courtesy of Raf.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Raf and I had spent a few days hanging about in Damascus, giving him time to acclimatise, and for me to say goodbye to some good friends who were leaving Damascus to move onto new adventures (Dan to Jordan, Munir to Lebanon).
Then we decided the time was ripe to set out on a planned epic trip around Syria. As a prelimiary we took a trip to the National Museum in Damascus, where we could see artifacts from many of the places we were hoping to visit: from ancient and enigmatic civilizations in the Euphrates valley to Hellenistic and Roman Syria (below) and on through the advent of Islam to the modern era. It was a good taster of some of what was to come.
Therefore, at lunchtime on 4th August, we negotiated through the bustle and the touts of the sprawling and confusing Harasta bus terminal and caught a luxury (i.e. air-conditioned) coach to Palmyra/Tadmur.Palmyra (again): 4-5 August 2006
I don’t really have much new to say about Palmyra that I didn’t already say in a previous post. Needless to say the ruins are still awe-inspiring and it’s still very nice to watch the sunset from the castle.
It was perhaps, a little quieter than when we were there before, but it was fairly quiet back then too. The street traders were still desperately trying to eke out a living selling silly trinkets and camel rides to the trickle of tourists wandering around the ruins, but they did not detract too much from the splendour of the extensive historical site.We only spent one night and a morning in Tadmur, during which we saw a little more than had been possible the previous time I was here (one extra underground tomb, and a bit more of the ruined city, including the market place and assembly hall). Then we caught another coach travelling deeper into the Syran desert, heading for a rendezvous with the Euphrates river.
Deir Az-Zur: 5-6 August 2006
We got off at Deir Az-Zur – straight into the office of a local policeman. But it was fine, he was just logging the foreigners who were coming onto his patch. I guess he was more concerned about stopping (or at least controlling) the flow of young men coming to volunteer to fight for the insurgency across the border in Iraq, just over 100km away, than with two young Brits coming to look at old ruins. I guess that we didn't fit the profile of potential suicide bombers so, after briefly taking down our details, we were soon on our way.
Deir Az Zur turned out to be an interesting place. It’s a busy market town of about a quarter of a million inhabitants, that was apparently something of a boon town in the 1990s. However, it still feels pretty much off the (relatively lightly trodden) Syria tourist circuit.
The souq is very busy, populated with a mixture of people. A high proportion of the women are totally covered, but the infamous black chador is a rarity here. Instead the clothes were beautifully decorated and brightly coloured in greens, reds, blues and black. Many girls wore plastic flowers in their hair and were heavily made up as if going to a wedding rather than just to the market. Then again, maybe it's the place where they find their future husbands so I guess it's not so different after all.
The people at the budget hotel were lovely – so kind and friendly. We ended up having an impromptu joint language lesson – in English and Arabic. One man offered to put me up at his house free of charge in exchange for months of English lessons!
The town is nestled against the south bank of the Euphrates River which is a very impressive sight. It’s almost half a km wide, fast moving and full of islands and positively humming with life.
We had a nice meal in one of the huge restaurants on the banks of the river, the air around us full of bugs. Even at ten at night it was horrendously hot. Thanks to the proximity of so much water it was also uncomfortably humid. There was a constant flow of sweat over our bodies just sitting down and eating. Needless to say our sleep was disturbed.Sweat-drenched and sleepless, we opted out of heading further east for a day trip to the ancient site of Mari and the Hellenistic/Byzantine ruins at Dura Europos. The fact that our plan to take the sleeper train to Aleppo was scuppered by the fact that there were no longer any trains to Aleppo was our excuse, which meant we had to catch a bus during daylight hours. However, in reality I don’t think Raf and I could bear the idea of spending the day walking around the desert being roasted.
Whilst planning our next move we sat in one of the many juice bars that you find in all Syrian towns, just south of the central square and souq. It suddenly struck me what a surreal scene it was. There was I, sipping a fruit cocktail with my friend from London, talking on my mobile to Claudia in Damascus whilst two teenage girls in niqab (face covering), shyly glanced in our direction and giggled.
I was longing to get out of the desert, but it was a little sad to leave Deir Az-Zur so soon. It left a pleasant impression on both of us. Instead we took a bus, following the thin line of green vegetation that clings to the banks of the Euphrates as it threads it’s way through an otherwise dry landscape. This was an epic 5-hour journey. To kill the time I watched some of the Egyptian film that was showing on the TV screens. Hobak Naar (Your Love is Fire), a recent hit starring Mostafa Amar and Nelly Kareem, was a retelling of Romeo and Juliet, transplanted to modern-day Alexandria, this time with a happy ending.
Finally we left the river behind, entering the greenary and hills of northern Syria. Eventually the Citadel of Aleppo appeared on the horizon, like an island above the urban sprawl and pollution mist spread out below it. It was an impressive sight.
Aleppo: 6-8 August 2006
We arrived in Aleppo, the city of 3 million that is often described as Syria’s economic capital, in the early evening. We arranged a room in one of the many hotels around Sharia Baron, just north of Aleppo’s Old City. This part of the city is home to all the budget hotels and tyre shops, and also has many fruit juice bars and cinemas (below). It's an eclectic, busy place.
Once we had offloaded our bags we headed to Jdeideh, an old residential part of the city (17th, 18th Centuries), which is now one of the centres of the nightlife. It’s full of cafes, restaurants and bars and really comes alive after dark, with glammed up families, couples and groups of young people strolling, posing and hanging out. Here we had a rooftop dinner soundtracked by the greatest naff Western love Songs album in the world… ever! part 3 (i.e. Celine Dion, Robbie Williams, Chris De Burk). The music may have been bad but the food – a mix of French and Italian – was superb, and the view of the city’s skyscape was fantastic.Neither Raf nor I were up for late one - a combination of lack of sleep and long travels meant we were knackered - so we foresook the Aleppan nightlife and headed back to our hotel relatively early. There I engaged in a brief chat with some of our neighbours (2 Syrians and an Iraqi), who ended up trying to convince me to become a Muslim and marry a Syrian girl (I did say it was a brief chat!).
The next day we spent mainly in the Old City of Aleppo. Aleppo’s citadel and souqs I have already discussed. I’ll just add that the souqs seemed a little quieter than when I had previously been there back in April. We were told by one shopkeeper that business was bad at the moment – he blamed the war in Lebanon for keeping the tourists away.After two days in Aleppo we felt it was time to move on. I really loved the place, far more than during my previous visit, and could've stayed longer to explore it in more detail. However, we only had a limited amount of time in which to complete our circuit of Syria. Therefore, we packed our bags and headed to Aleppo train station. We had decided to take the scenic – but slow – train ride through the Jebel Ansariyya which divides coastal Syria from the interior. It was nice to take a train which people still stopped and waved at, as we wound our way past the villages in the Orontes valley and in the hills. The highlight was seeing the sunset over the mountains.
Lattakia: 8-9 August 2006
Lattakia is a prosperous, trendy place (population: about 400,000) that prides itself on its liberalism and shows little sign of its ancient past – just a few Roman columns standing in the city centre remind you that Laodicea was an important port in Seleucid and Roman times. Instead its architecture mainly consists of bland concrete apartment blocks, reminiscent of Lebanon less than 100km down the coast. The people are more likely to be clad in Western labels than in traditional jalabiyya or abiya. The hijab count is very noticeably down on the rest of Syria. I got the impression that the people of Lattakia pride themselves on their sophistication and modernity. Nevertheless, despite it's reputation, it's not all champagne and caviar - we saw several poor people wandering through the streets scavenging through rubbish. However, relatively speaking, this is still the home of Syria's bold and beautiful.
On the first night we wandered around the centre of town, checking out the cool kids and the nice restaurants, before ending up on the Corniche where we had a fruit juice and smoked an apple flavoured nargileh (water pipe). However, this was hardly comparable with Beirut's famous seafront promenade. Instead of picturesque views of the beautiful blue Med, we were afforded prime views of the cranes and machinery of the modern port which intrudes between the city and the sea.
Another surprising thing was how soon everything closed down. Not long after midnight the vibrant city centre had become a virtual ghost town - not exactly 24 hour party people!
The following day we took a microbus up to Kassab, a pretty little mountain village just a few km from the Turkish border. We climbed up into the mountains overlooking the town, and enjoyed the views and the relatively cool air.
However, because there was basically nothing else to do there, we didn't hang around for long. Within a couple of hours we were on board a microbus heading back – this time to the beach. Syria’s premier coastal resort (Shaat al-Azraq - the Blue Beach), wouldn’t win any prizes for cleanliness, and we heard that there are more beautiful beaches further up the coast, but it was still great to enjoy an afternoon by the Mare Nostrum.The beach was fairly crowded with families. The bikini and bathing suit count was nil. Women bathed in the sea still wearing their hijab (head scarves) and jalabiyya (full length robes).
I guess the sophisticated young Lattakians were sticking to the private beaches and not mingling with the tourists from other parts of Syria. In this sense it was more Great Yarmouth than St Tropez! In the early evening we befriended a couple of young lawyers from Lattakia. Together we sat on the rocks, watching the sunset whilst sharing a nargileh, drinking Arabic coffee and eating fruit grown in the garden of one of the men.
We talked in a broken Arabic-English about our respective countries, the war in Lebanon, and our travels. It was only soured by the fact that after we parted company we arranged to meet later in town for a drink – a commitment that they did not honour. Maybe the Syrian paranoia got the better of them – who knows. We even briefly wondered if they might have been secret policemen – viewed through this lens their seemingly innocent request to look at the pictures of our travels became transformed into a well executed and friendly interrogation. However, we soon dismissed all these silly thoughts and grabbed a drink in a US-themed café/diner frequented by the cool kids, which to us seemed a little tacky. Then we headed for a quiet restaurant for an amazing feast of grilled fresh fish and mezze – hummous, moutabbel and fattoush. It was a real treat, well worth the price of admission. Then we retired to our hotel to nurse our full bellies, too stuffed to face the idea of a staying out. This was just as well because, as with the night before, Lattakia was not exactly jumping at 1:00!
Qal'at Salah Ad-Din: 10 August 2006
The next day we headed back into the Jebel, this time bound for Qal’at Salah Ad-Din (Castle Saladin). This former Crusader castle fell to the legendary Kurdish warrior after a siege of just two days in 1188. It’s a huge castle, located in beautiful green hills covered with pine forests. It’s main feature is the fact that it is built on a ridge, with natural cliffs on two sides, and the third side protected by an impressive man-made chasm carved out of the rock (below). 
Unfortunately, the lower castle is ruined and overgrown, and thus inaccessible. However, we still spent a happy couple of hours exploring the upper castle, enjoying the panoramic views of the landscape and trying to avoid vertigo as we looked down from the battlements into the sheer drops on all sides. 
Then it was time to head from the verdant landscape of Syria’s Med coast and return to the desert conurbation where I live. This meant another long and relatively uneventful coach ride.Bosra: 13 August 2006
After a couple of days of partying in Damascus (bon voyage Fabian!) we took a day trip southwards to Bosra near the Jordanian border. Its another Roman/Byzantine ruined town, much like Palmyra but considerably smaller, and mainly built of black basalt, which contrasts quite dramatically with the deep red soil of the fields in the surrounding countryside. However, unlike Palmyra, people still live amongst the ruins, giving the place more of a sense of living history.
The main place of interest is the well-preserved Roman theatre. It is protected by a fortress which was added in the 11th-12th Centuries. It's quite wonderful to emerge from the dark tunnels of the Arab fortress into the space and light of the auditorium. This was one of the biggest of its kind in the world, with a capacity of about 15,000 spectators (note: this was a theatre designed for staging dramas and not an amphitheatre, which were often considerably bigger and where more brutal events, like gladiatorial contests, were held).
Then, leaving the theatre/fortress and heading to the Old City, it was interesting to wander for a while amongst the jumbled mix of ancient ruins and buildings still being used as contemporary shops and houses, down Roman colonnaded streets (below) and over crumbled down buildings. 
Within the Old City is the ancient monastery (below) where, according to legend, a young caravan leader called Mohammed met the Christian monk Bohira. This Mohammed went on to become a great Prophet and the founder of Islam, which meant that there were a number of early mosques in Bosra, though the earliest still standing dates back to the 12th Century.
On the way home I struck up a conversation with the man sat next to me. It turned out he was an Ancient History professor from Baghdad University who was on a holiday in Syria with his wife and two young daughters. I started to talk about the Iraq war, and apologise for the behaviour of the idiot Bliar, but he soon changed the subject back to more comfortable territory. I had a moment of realisation that I had been a little insensitive. My clumsy attempt at compassion had actually come across as pity, reducing his dignity, and briefly broken the holiday spell whereby the troubles in his homeland were but a distant, almost forgotten nightmare. Thus the rest of our conversation lingered on our mutual interest in the ancient history of the region.
As we got off at Baramke bus station in Damascus he expressed the hope that one day soon Iraq would be safe enough for me to visit it. Then we parted company with “anta sharif’ – the Iraqi equivalent of best wishes. The encounter had made me feel a little sad. I thought of the contrast between the peace of Syria and the daily bloodbath on the streets of Baghdad and hoped that this learned and courteous man and his family remain safe and well.
This encounter brought to an end our thrilling ten day trip around many of the main sights and places of Syria. Overall we had a fantastic time. Being outside Damascus, and its attendant high number of English speakers helped to consolidate my Arabic skills to date (still pretty limited, but at least able to get us from A to B without too much trouble). Everywhere we went we were greeted by friendly courteous people, many of whom were very keen to chat about a host of topics (but especially politics). If I ever had any doubts, this trip certainly cemented my deep interest in the history, politics and culture of this region.
15 August 2006
And the winner is...
The travel write-up is on its way - watch the space above in the coming days. In the meantime here is a bit of 'political analysis'. It's my attempt to take stock of the situation 50km away in Lebanon now that the smoke is starting to clear after 32 days of war.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
So, the dust is finally beginning to settle in Lebanon, and the refugees are starting to return to their homes. As the ceasefire took hold, both Israeli PM Olmert and Nasrallah, the leader of Hizbu'llah, moved quickly to publicly claim that they had achieved "strategic victory."
Israeli spokesmen (and Sean McCormack, a spokesman for the US State Department) have desperately been trying to spin the current situation to their favour - claiming success against Hizbu'llah when to everyone else it appears as if Israel's assault failed to secure its objectives. The IDF demonstrated, once again, that it has amazing destructive power at its disposal but it has proven to be a blunt instrument. Despite repeated claims to the contrary there is little evidence that Hizbu'llah's missile-launching capabilities were ever severely affected - on the last full day of hostilities a record-breaking 250 missiles were reportedly fired at northern Israel. The drive towards the Litani river floundered in the face of a well organised and dogged resistance. Meanwhile, Israel has now been forced to enter into negotiations to secure the release of its two captured soldiers.
The bitter recriminations amongst the Israeli civilian and military leadership resulting from this long-planned but ultimately counter-productive war have already begun. If Olmert entered this war hoping to look like the tough guy he has failed - unable to defeat a relatively small guerrilla force with what is widely seen to be the strongest military in the Middle East. The Israeli public that was initially so gung ho in calling for Hizbu'llah to be crushed did not respond kindly to seeing 500,000 inhabitants of the north forced to flee or spend four weeks huddled in bomb shelters as the rockets came raining down.
Nevertheless, it is hard to talk of a Lebanese victory when the country has been so devastated - more than 1,000 people have been killed (including several hundred children), and thousands more maimed. The Israeli military bombed 94 roads, 70 bridges, 4 ports, 3 airports and 22 petrol stations. It caused $173 million worth of damage to water and telecommunications infrastructure and $208 million of damages to electrical production and distribution facilities. The damaged power station at Jiyeh leaked 10,000 tonnes of heavy oil into the Mediterranean Sea, polluting some 80 km of coastline – an environmental and financial disaster given the importance of tourism to the Lebanese economy. In total the value of the damage has been estimated at $2.4 billion.
[source: www.lebanonmaps.org]
There is also the often forgotten issue of unexploded munitions. On top of an estimated 400,000 mines laid by Israel between 1978 and 2000, the southern Lebanese landscape is now littered with large numbers of cluster bomblets which have already killed and injured many returning civilians. The fighting may have stopped but the killing continues.
Despite this, Nasrallah can claim to have led Hizbu'llah to a victory - of sorts. Their secrecy precludes a full accounting but it would seem as if the Party of God weathered the IDF's four week onslaught remarkably well. In particular Hizbu’llah’s armed wing has proved that it is a force to be reckoned with, equipped with sophisticated anti-tank and anti-ship missiles that it was able to utilise with devastating effectiveness. The proverbial Arab street now credits Hizbu’llah with achieveing something that the Arab armies and the PLO so conspicuously failed to do – namely humble Israeli military might. Thus, at the end of the conflict Nasrallah and Hizbu'llah are enjoying elevated levels of support, in Lebanon and in the wider Arab world.
In Damascus the current support for Hizbu'llah crosses sectarian and even religious lines. For example, the streets of Bab Touma, the Christian Quarter, are just as adorned with the yellow and green flags of Hizbu'llah as predominantly Muslim areas. When people are asked about why they support Hizbu’llah a common response is “they do what they say,” in marked contrast with the Arab governments who are perceived as talking a lot but delivering very little. The muted response to President Assad’s speech is revealing, contrasting with the enthusiastic reception for Nasrallah’s regular Al Manar broadcasts.
In the last few weeks it has been noticeable that Al Manar, Hizbu'llah's TV station, has supplanted Al Jazeera as the news (or maybe that should be propaganda?) network of choice for many Syrians. To a certain extent this had official backing: for example, the giant TV screens in Aleppo train station were tuned to the station. Nevertheless, this was not just a top-down phenomenon, with many TV sets in shops, cafes and hotels that were previously tuned to Al Jazeera switching to Al Manar. Thus, Hizbu’llah’s TV station has also emerged stronger from the conflict, having successfully defied Israeli attacks on its facilities to continue to broadcast some of the defining images of the conflict.
Maybe this overwhelming support will be a short-term trend, that will fade quickly as the relief at the end of hostilities gives way to the restoration of banal political life. Certainly Nasrallah cannot afford to bask for too long in the glory of this unprecedented reverse for Israel. Instead he must face several challenges. One of the most pressing is the issue of reconstruction. He already began to address this in his first speech after the ceasefire, in which he offered to provide housing and pay compensation to the thousands who have lost their homes. Given that the destruction was concentrated on residential areas where Hizbu'llah support was strongest (south of the Litani river, south Beirut, Baalbek and the Beqa’a valley), most of the recipients are likely to already be Hizbu'llah's constituents for whom the organisation already has a proven record of service provision (Hizbu'llah's annual social services budget is reportedly $1 billion).
However, it remains to be seen how the issue of reconstruction will play out among Lebanese society as a whole, which now finds itself with a devastated infrastructure and economy. Whilst Israeli bombs were raining down criticisms of Hizbu'llah were muted but in the coming days I expect a return to normality. Nevertheless, Washington's conspicuous military and political complicity in the Israeli onslaught has done much to disillusion Lebanon's secular and Westernised middle class and weaken the hand of the pro-American/anti-Syrian pole of Lebanese politics.
A greater challenge that will quickly emerge is the issue of disarmament, called for in the recently passed UN Resolution 1701 (which, following in the footsteps of the Taif Accords which ended the Lebanese Civil War and UN resolutions 1559 (2004) and 1680 (2006), demands "the disarmament of all armed groups in Lebanon"). Last night Nasrallah said it was "immoral, incorrect and inappropriate" to consider the issue at present. Instead he claimed, with some justification, that his fighters alone, not the Lebanese army or international peacekeepers, could protect southern Lebanon from Israel. This claim, coupled with his refusal to disarm in haste or in the face of "intimidation, pressure or provocation", would seemingly put Hizbu'llah on a collision course with the expanded UN Peacekeeping force that is due to deploy soon. Let us hope the situation does not follow the pattern set in 1983 when the mainly American and French Multinational Force became embroiled in the Civil War and suffered horrendous losses.
Therefore the present moment undoubtedly belongs to Hizbu'llah, but the future remains fraught with difficulties. At best the current ceasefire (which, sporadic firefights aside, has so far been adhered to) will offer only a short respite from the ongoing Lebanese-Israeli conflict. A lasting peace would still seem to be a long, hard journey ahead.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
So, the dust is finally beginning to settle in Lebanon, and the refugees are starting to return to their homes. As the ceasefire took hold, both Israeli PM Olmert and Nasrallah, the leader of Hizbu'llah, moved quickly to publicly claim that they had achieved "strategic victory."
Israeli spokesmen (and Sean McCormack, a spokesman for the US State Department) have desperately been trying to spin the current situation to their favour - claiming success against Hizbu'llah when to everyone else it appears as if Israel's assault failed to secure its objectives. The IDF demonstrated, once again, that it has amazing destructive power at its disposal but it has proven to be a blunt instrument. Despite repeated claims to the contrary there is little evidence that Hizbu'llah's missile-launching capabilities were ever severely affected - on the last full day of hostilities a record-breaking 250 missiles were reportedly fired at northern Israel. The drive towards the Litani river floundered in the face of a well organised and dogged resistance. Meanwhile, Israel has now been forced to enter into negotiations to secure the release of its two captured soldiers.
The bitter recriminations amongst the Israeli civilian and military leadership resulting from this long-planned but ultimately counter-productive war have already begun. If Olmert entered this war hoping to look like the tough guy he has failed - unable to defeat a relatively small guerrilla force with what is widely seen to be the strongest military in the Middle East. The Israeli public that was initially so gung ho in calling for Hizbu'llah to be crushed did not respond kindly to seeing 500,000 inhabitants of the north forced to flee or spend four weeks huddled in bomb shelters as the rockets came raining down.
Nevertheless, it is hard to talk of a Lebanese victory when the country has been so devastated - more than 1,000 people have been killed (including several hundred children), and thousands more maimed. The Israeli military bombed 94 roads, 70 bridges, 4 ports, 3 airports and 22 petrol stations. It caused $173 million worth of damage to water and telecommunications infrastructure and $208 million of damages to electrical production and distribution facilities. The damaged power station at Jiyeh leaked 10,000 tonnes of heavy oil into the Mediterranean Sea, polluting some 80 km of coastline – an environmental and financial disaster given the importance of tourism to the Lebanese economy. In total the value of the damage has been estimated at $2.4 billion.
[source: www.lebanonmaps.org]There is also the often forgotten issue of unexploded munitions. On top of an estimated 400,000 mines laid by Israel between 1978 and 2000, the southern Lebanese landscape is now littered with large numbers of cluster bomblets which have already killed and injured many returning civilians. The fighting may have stopped but the killing continues.
Despite this, Nasrallah can claim to have led Hizbu'llah to a victory - of sorts. Their secrecy precludes a full accounting but it would seem as if the Party of God weathered the IDF's four week onslaught remarkably well. In particular Hizbu’llah’s armed wing has proved that it is a force to be reckoned with, equipped with sophisticated anti-tank and anti-ship missiles that it was able to utilise with devastating effectiveness. The proverbial Arab street now credits Hizbu’llah with achieveing something that the Arab armies and the PLO so conspicuously failed to do – namely humble Israeli military might. Thus, at the end of the conflict Nasrallah and Hizbu'llah are enjoying elevated levels of support, in Lebanon and in the wider Arab world.
In Damascus the current support for Hizbu'llah crosses sectarian and even religious lines. For example, the streets of Bab Touma, the Christian Quarter, are just as adorned with the yellow and green flags of Hizbu'llah as predominantly Muslim areas. When people are asked about why they support Hizbu’llah a common response is “they do what they say,” in marked contrast with the Arab governments who are perceived as talking a lot but delivering very little. The muted response to President Assad’s speech is revealing, contrasting with the enthusiastic reception for Nasrallah’s regular Al Manar broadcasts.
In the last few weeks it has been noticeable that Al Manar, Hizbu'llah's TV station, has supplanted Al Jazeera as the news (or maybe that should be propaganda?) network of choice for many Syrians. To a certain extent this had official backing: for example, the giant TV screens in Aleppo train station were tuned to the station. Nevertheless, this was not just a top-down phenomenon, with many TV sets in shops, cafes and hotels that were previously tuned to Al Jazeera switching to Al Manar. Thus, Hizbu’llah’s TV station has also emerged stronger from the conflict, having successfully defied Israeli attacks on its facilities to continue to broadcast some of the defining images of the conflict.
Maybe this overwhelming support will be a short-term trend, that will fade quickly as the relief at the end of hostilities gives way to the restoration of banal political life. Certainly Nasrallah cannot afford to bask for too long in the glory of this unprecedented reverse for Israel. Instead he must face several challenges. One of the most pressing is the issue of reconstruction. He already began to address this in his first speech after the ceasefire, in which he offered to provide housing and pay compensation to the thousands who have lost their homes. Given that the destruction was concentrated on residential areas where Hizbu'llah support was strongest (south of the Litani river, south Beirut, Baalbek and the Beqa’a valley), most of the recipients are likely to already be Hizbu'llah's constituents for whom the organisation already has a proven record of service provision (Hizbu'llah's annual social services budget is reportedly $1 billion).
However, it remains to be seen how the issue of reconstruction will play out among Lebanese society as a whole, which now finds itself with a devastated infrastructure and economy. Whilst Israeli bombs were raining down criticisms of Hizbu'llah were muted but in the coming days I expect a return to normality. Nevertheless, Washington's conspicuous military and political complicity in the Israeli onslaught has done much to disillusion Lebanon's secular and Westernised middle class and weaken the hand of the pro-American/anti-Syrian pole of Lebanese politics.
A greater challenge that will quickly emerge is the issue of disarmament, called for in the recently passed UN Resolution 1701 (which, following in the footsteps of the Taif Accords which ended the Lebanese Civil War and UN resolutions 1559 (2004) and 1680 (2006), demands "the disarmament of all armed groups in Lebanon"). Last night Nasrallah said it was "immoral, incorrect and inappropriate" to consider the issue at present. Instead he claimed, with some justification, that his fighters alone, not the Lebanese army or international peacekeepers, could protect southern Lebanon from Israel. This claim, coupled with his refusal to disarm in haste or in the face of "intimidation, pressure or provocation", would seemingly put Hizbu'llah on a collision course with the expanded UN Peacekeeping force that is due to deploy soon. Let us hope the situation does not follow the pattern set in 1983 when the mainly American and French Multinational Force became embroiled in the Civil War and suffered horrendous losses.
Therefore the present moment undoubtedly belongs to Hizbu'llah, but the future remains fraught with difficulties. At best the current ceasefire (which, sporadic firefights aside, has so far been adhered to) will offer only a short respite from the ongoing Lebanese-Israeli conflict. A lasting peace would still seem to be a long, hard journey ahead.
13 August 2006
Home Sweet Damascus
Dear all,
Raf and I are safely back from our mammoth trip around Syria, in which we went to the north (Aleppo and the mountain village of Kassab near the Turkish border), south (Bosra near the Jordanian border), west (Lattakia on the Med coast) and east (Deir Az Zur which is about 60 miles from the Iraqi border). We saw first hand the great diversity of Syria's geography: from desolate deserts to lush, green hills, from huge conurbations to sleepy little villages and from towering mountain ranges to wide rivers. We saw traces of Syria's long and dramatic history: ancient artifacts, Roman ruins, Crusader castles, mosques and madrassas. We also met a wide range of Syrian people - the one common thread was the courtesy and hospitality which we were afforded.
I hope to write it up in greater detail in the coming days.
Regards,
Dave
Raf and I are safely back from our mammoth trip around Syria, in which we went to the north (Aleppo and the mountain village of Kassab near the Turkish border), south (Bosra near the Jordanian border), west (Lattakia on the Med coast) and east (Deir Az Zur which is about 60 miles from the Iraqi border). We saw first hand the great diversity of Syria's geography: from desolate deserts to lush, green hills, from huge conurbations to sleepy little villages and from towering mountain ranges to wide rivers. We saw traces of Syria's long and dramatic history: ancient artifacts, Roman ruins, Crusader castles, mosques and madrassas. We also met a wide range of Syrian people - the one common thread was the courtesy and hospitality which we were afforded.
I hope to write it up in greater detail in the coming days.
Regards,
Dave
01 August 2006
A Tale of Two Cities
Hey folks!
My friend Raf is flying in from London today. He's picked an interesting moment to come to Syria - right when President Bashar has told the Syrian armed forces to increase its readiness. A bit of an ominous development but nevermind, we're not going to let a small thing like an escalating war spoil our fun. We're planning to go on a bit of a Syrian tour, checking out lots of old ruins, Medieval castles, mosques, madrassas and shrines and, inshallah, the Med coast! Therefore I probably won't post much for the next couple of weeks.
In the meantime please check out some of the sites on the left-hand side of the screen to keep abreast of developments.
One article caught my eye today. It's about the friendship that was developing between the editors of Time Out in Beirut and Tel Aviv, and how the war has now caused immense strains between them. However, I still think that there is small cause for optimism in this story, due to the fact that when a young Israeli and a young Lebanese man meet outside the context of conflict they find they have so much in common. It shows that peace and understanding are at least possible (inshallah).
Take care all,
Love,
Dave
My friend Raf is flying in from London today. He's picked an interesting moment to come to Syria - right when President Bashar has told the Syrian armed forces to increase its readiness. A bit of an ominous development but nevermind, we're not going to let a small thing like an escalating war spoil our fun. We're planning to go on a bit of a Syrian tour, checking out lots of old ruins, Medieval castles, mosques, madrassas and shrines and, inshallah, the Med coast! Therefore I probably won't post much for the next couple of weeks.
In the meantime please check out some of the sites on the left-hand side of the screen to keep abreast of developments.
One article caught my eye today. It's about the friendship that was developing between the editors of Time Out in Beirut and Tel Aviv, and how the war has now caused immense strains between them. However, I still think that there is small cause for optimism in this story, due to the fact that when a young Israeli and a young Lebanese man meet outside the context of conflict they find they have so much in common. It shows that peace and understanding are at least possible (inshallah).
Take care all,
Love,
Dave
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