There and Back Again: Syria

Greetings from Syria.

This is the president of Syria. There are pictures of him EVERYWHERE. I thought this one was particularly charming though. There's also family man, miltary man, touring man, etc... Another really good one which I foolishly failed to photograph was a poster of him with the heads of the Hezbollah and Iranian leaders ghosted in.

Talk is not cheap in Syria. In fact, the government does its best to ensure that no-one speaks too much; freedom of political speach is pretty much a no-no. One upshot is that internet contact with the outside world is severely limited - the primary reason why I am writing this post in Turkey.

Surprisingly the public seem to love him. So much so that the elections which are held every seven years see him stand unopposed...

Back to the tour though.

Days 17 & 18

From Madaba we made a most eventful crossing into Syria. Our group of 13 broke into 4 "international" cabs. Four of us and our luggage crammed into a small sedan with no air conditioning and proceeded to sweat our way to the border. At the first entry point the first 2 cabs of our group were waived through. There was then some heated discussion (in Arabic) and then the group members from the 3rd cab in front of us jumped out and went straight into a vacant cab in front of them (without their luggage). The 2 cabs (one with the luggage and one with the group members) immediately proceeded onwards.

Us? We didn't move. We just sat dumbfounded. In very broken English it was then explained to us by our driver that our cab and the other group member's cab in front of us were of Syrian registration and the first 2 cabs (which were waived through) were of Jordanian registration.

What does this mean? Jordanian registered cabs can go through the border with non-arabs without question. So can Syrian registered cabs - but not before 3pm. We all looked at each other quite concerned at this point - it was about 12 pm. We also had no means of contact with the rest of the group.

Our cab driver turned the cab around and proceeded to drive slowly back from where we came. We were worried but remained quiet. He then stopped at the nearby shop and jumped out. He started a heated conversation with some guy who was standing around.

We still sat there...

After a while we were asked to get out of the cab and jump into a cab which the random guy seemed to own: our driver went through the checkpoints with our luggage (in a Syrian registered cab and unaccompanied) and we proceeded through the checkpoints with the random guy (a Jordanian regsitered cab with non-arabs). Once in Syria we ditched the ransom and jumped back in our own cab. Get it? Brilliant system huh?

A little bit of extra stress was finding out we had the wrong stamps in our passports for Jordan... fortunately the problem was resolved fairly quickly.

After a change of cab driver and another complete change of cab we arrived in Damascus ("international" cabs are not allowed inside the city). Damascus is a busy ciy wıth over 6 million people. Amazingly though, there are very few ATMs. Of those few ATMs, most don't accept maestro or mastercard. Of those people fortunate to have a Vısa card, very few of the ATMs accept foreign bank cards...

One of the two real highlights of Damascus was the mosque. Before entering women are required to cover up appropriately. To help out most western women they kindly provide the below "putting on special clothes room".

The girls left thinking they looked like Jedis. I was more inclined to think they looked like Jawas.

Inside the mosque was amazing. Note the reflection of the columns on the white and clean marble. Sal-uh-din and some important others are buried here (or thought so by legend) including John the Baptist.

Nearby was another mosque dedicated to a young girl who died on discoverıng her father's death - he was one of the grandson's of Mohammed. It was rebuilt about 10 years ago. There is only one word to descrıbe it: BLING! It was immensely difficult to photograph but all of the ceilıng should look like mirrors.

The other highlight of the city is the amazing network of souks.

Day 19

A public bus to Palmyra from where we caught this little gem to our hotel.

Apart from the amazing remains of the Roman city (below), there is very little reason to hang around (unless you count the faux "cave" bar at the bottom of our hotel).

Unfortunately the Nikster missed out due to illness. More unfortunate was that she was still ill the following day for our 4 hour journey to Krak de Chevaliers in a vehicle roughly the size of a Toyota Hi-Ace (no air-con either).

Day 20

This was the view from our hotel balcony: Krak de Chevaliers, considered the best of the Crusader forts.

Day 21

We got to venture inside. It was splendid and a real tour highlight (not for Nikki sadly as she was still doing a tour of the bathroom).

Check out the air again!That afternoon we moved on to Aleppo. Again the souks were impressive.

I always knew Nıkkı was an angel...

Day 22

A day trip out to St Simeon's monastery. St Simeon was a nut. At the age of 13 he was run out of his home town due to his religious fervour. He then moved to the town which was at the bottom of the hill where the monastery is now built. Again he was run out of town and so he moved to the top of the hill. He lived there as a hermit, coming to town once a week for supplies.

Ironically the locals then took to him and started to come to the hill top seeking religious guidance. So popular he became they built a podium for him which eventually reached 11 metres in height. He lived ın a basket on the top; to get away form the crowds as well as allowıng him to be closer to God.

This is me trying to reach spiritual awareness at what ıs now left of the podium.

This is me replicating and adding.
Day 23