There are some considerable differences between Syria and Jordan. First, Syria seems to have all the green, arable land and Jordan got the desert. Second, there are far more photos of the ruler (son of the former President) than in Jordan, even though that king is a direct descendent of Mohammed. Third, the military flexes its muscles much more firmly. In Jordan (and in Egypt for that matter), there were armed tourist police everywhere, but many of the weapons had no magazines and their ammo belts were obviously empty. Here, the guns are loaded and every soldier’s ammunition belt is so full they are hunched over with the weight.
Note how close the town is now.
Anyway, then it was off to Syria. This is the President, the son of the former President, who ruled for about 30 years, with a 99.9% approval rating. President Bashir (the current one) was the second son of the former President. The eldest son was meant to be democratically elected to replace his father, and there are photos of him looking tough in sunglasses everywhere, but he died in a car accident and the younger son had to very quickly be groomed for the Presidency. By all accounts he is doing a sterling job. We even came within 10m of him on our last day in Aleppo, while he was visiting an Armenian orphanage on Easter Sunday. Lots of hired goons, one of whom spoke German and was happy to chat to Matt about local cars but not what he was doing there. All very fun.
We spent a lot of time in the souks, which are markets and great places to learn about the secret, real Syria. These photos are from the Damascus souk.
Something that has really struck us going from the UAE to these other Islamic countries is that “covering the form” through headdresses and the like is a matter of quite significant interpretation.
A black hijab can be purchased from a small number of shops in the Damascus souk.
But a surprising number of shops seem to pay the rent selling these.
And there are more adult dress-up shops than you can poke a stick, or anything else, at.
Although it's far from clear whether the sizing suits the locals.
It turns out that in these parts young girls can wear a micro-miniskirt and a tank top so long as they wear a headscarf and a lycra body suit underneath. It makes you wonder how many more generations the current traditions will last.
The media is also interesting. As we have said, our blog was blocked. There are also clear memories of recent “issues” concerning political dissidents and Hezbollah posters everywhere. Gee, the people have been friendly to us, but when your felafel guy has a poster of people in beanies shooting Israelis, it’s best to keep your wits about you. We are still very close to the border, so this will be a careful blog. A cautious blog. A respectful blog.
That background really gives us the theme for this blog – the interesting differences between what you see and first glance and what really lurks there when you look a bit harder.
But first, some more of Jordan, because our final morning there was really great. We stopped on the way to the Syrian border at Jerash, an old Roman town, with quite incredible ruins. Those who have been said that these ruins rival, or maybe outstrip, those at Rome.
That background really gives us the theme for this blog – the interesting differences between what you see and first glance and what really lurks there when you look a bit harder.
But first, some more of Jordan, because our final morning there was really great. We stopped on the way to the Syrian border at Jerash, an old Roman town, with quite incredible ruins. Those who have been said that these ruins rival, or maybe outstrip, those at Rome.
Note how close the town is now.
Anyway, then it was off to Syria. This is the President, the son of the former President, who ruled for about 30 years, with a 99.9% approval rating. President Bashir (the current one) was the second son of the former President. The eldest son was meant to be democratically elected to replace his father, and there are photos of him looking tough in sunglasses everywhere, but he died in a car accident and the younger son had to very quickly be groomed for the Presidency. By all accounts he is doing a sterling job. We even came within 10m of him on our last day in Aleppo, while he was visiting an Armenian orphanage on Easter Sunday. Lots of hired goons, one of whom spoke German and was happy to chat to Matt about local cars but not what he was doing there. All very fun.
We spent a lot of time in the souks, which are markets and great places to learn about the secret, real Syria. These photos are from the Damascus souk.
Something that has really struck us going from the UAE to these other Islamic countries is that “covering the form” through headdresses and the like is a matter of quite significant interpretation.
A black hijab can be purchased from a small number of shops in the Damascus souk.
But a surprising number of shops seem to pay the rent selling these.
And there are more adult dress-up shops than you can poke a stick, or anything else, at.
Although it's far from clear whether the sizing suits the locals.
It turns out that in these parts young girls can wear a micro-miniskirt and a tank top so long as they wear a headscarf and a lycra body suit underneath. It makes you wonder how many more generations the current traditions will last.
In both Damascus and Aleppo we visited large mosques. One held the body of Saladdin, and the other the daughter of the founder of the Shiite sect.
What is this guy thinking? Is he angry that honkies are taking his photo, or was it a bad felafel?
The mosques have been really beautiful inside, and it is great that we have been allowed in, but skankily-dressed harlots have been required to dress up as gnomes to get in.
A big thing in these parts is smoking sheesha. It is fruit-flavoured tobacco, and it seems to be a work substitute the way that newspapers are in India.
It’s amazing what you can buy in the souk. For example, Arab Monopoly (streets include Baghdad Street, Damascus Street, etc). We can’t read the instructions or fit it in our bags, but when did such details get in the way of a brilliant $3 investment? As far as we can tell, instead of utilities there are restaurants where you extort tourists by giving them a menu with false prices and then explain a series of surcharges to them as they are trying to leave.
Who would believe what you can dine on in these here parts?
What is this guy thinking? Is he angry that honkies are taking his photo, or was it a bad felafel?The mosques have been really beautiful inside, and it is great that we have been allowed in, but skankily-dressed harlots have been required to dress up as gnomes to get in.
A big thing in these parts is smoking sheesha. It is fruit-flavoured tobacco, and it seems to be a work substitute the way that newspapers are in India.
It’s amazing what you can buy in the souk. For example, Arab Monopoly (streets include Baghdad Street, Damascus Street, etc). We can’t read the instructions or fit it in our bags, but when did such details get in the way of a brilliant $3 investment? As far as we can tell, instead of utilities there are restaurants where you extort tourists by giving them a menu with false prices and then explain a series of surcharges to them as they are trying to leave.
Who would believe what you can dine on in these here parts?
One of the things you have to see in Syria is the imposing Krak des Chevaliers, a 12th century Crusader Castle, said by Lawrence of Arabia to be the most magnificent castle in the world.
To get the setting right, this is the scenery around the castle. If it were not for the occasional mosque and Arab racing past on a 125cc motorcycle, you could be in France or Germany. This is the view just up the road from our hotel.
And this was the view from our bedroom window.
We spent the first evening scoffing all you can eat meze platters and knight-sized pieces of chicken and Lebanese wine with this view. That was a night we will never forget.
The next day we were let loose on the castle. If he managed to get through the first moat and the fourteen different places where oil could be poured on his head in the entryway, the intending invader was then faced with this - another moat and another bloody wall. The place was never in fact captured, and you can see why. The last crusaders gave up one month into a siege, when the armies of Islam had surrounded them, in return for safe passage.
We spent the first evening scoffing all you can eat meze platters and knight-sized pieces of chicken and Lebanese wine with this view. That was a night we will never forget.
The next day we were let loose on the castle. If he managed to get through the first moat and the fourteen different places where oil could be poured on his head in the entryway, the intending invader was then faced with this - another moat and another bloody wall. The place was never in fact captured, and you can see why. The last crusaders gave up one month into a siege, when the armies of Islam had surrounded them, in return for safe passage.
This is part of the internal moat that has been filled in. On the day it was full of young men holding hands and dancing to pop music, and girls standing round ogling foreign men. The gender reversal was really interesting.
This corner of the crusader castle was formerly a Kurdish fort, and from 1516 the Ottoman turned it into a multi-level underground Turkish bath, as you do. We went exploring in the underground tunnels, and Matt managed to fall off a mossy ledge and bruise his ribs. He is now banned from all climbing or other adventure activities for the rest of the trip.
And here is a loo with a view. This time it definitely was a bad felafel.
The castle itself has stood the test of time, but the road we came up on is not doing so well. Note that the REPAIRED bit of the road has fallen down the cliff as well.
That called for protective equipment.
This is the ancient Roman city of Palmyra. Apparently only a few columns have been restored, otherwise what you see is in original condition. The freshwater and sewerage systems are all there, as are the little holes in the stone where you could tie your camel, and hundreds of pillars and other stones with Greek and local Palmyran writing on them.
Another pretty extraordinary site.
That is a Mamluk castle on the hill. The only people who have ever fought over it were the French - Free France versus Vichy France in the Second World War. You would never have picked it. The local prince who built the castle tried to conquer the Turks but only got about 50km before his army was turned back and he was taken to Constantinople for execution.
Palmyra was very wealthy, and a long way from Rome. The penchant for taking on superpowers (which modern Syria seems to also be following) started around 300 AD, when a certain Queen Zenobia, who claimed to be descended from Cleopatra, took control of the city and decided to march on Rome. The Roman military machine and the distance did not seem to bother her. Six years after she rose to power the Roman Army returned, taught her a lesson and burned the city to the ground. That was the first stroke of bad luck for the locals. The second was in 1991 when the fresh water springs dried up. Now the city survives on pumps, artesian water, tourism and proximity to lots of non-conventional business opportunities in Iraq.
Another minor upstart in the Zenobian tradition.
That is most of Syria. There was a little bit more of interest in Aleppo (where we came so close to the President) but that will have to wait until another day. After four weeks making smalltalk in Arabic we now need to learn some Turkish, and that is proving a bit difficult, particularly with all the aphrodesiac tea around the place ...
And here is a loo with a view. This time it definitely was a bad felafel.The final Knights Hospatelier surrendered to Sultan Beibars. The first thing the Sultan did was pray to Allah, then he turned the church into a mosque but left an inscription in the wall that all faiths were welcome to worship freely in his mosque.
The castle itself has stood the test of time, but the road we came up on is not doing so well. Note that the REPAIRED bit of the road has fallen down the cliff as well.In response, the authorities have blocked the road. Solution? Go around the other way? Of course not. You drive around the debris on a sliver of land on the top of a cliff. 50-seat coaches drove around that little path. Scary, scary stuff.
We also ventured into the far east of the country, near the Iraqi border (150km from Baghdad at one point, our mothers will be pleased to know).
That called for protective equipment.This is the ancient Roman city of Palmyra. Apparently only a few columns have been restored, otherwise what you see is in original condition. The freshwater and sewerage systems are all there, as are the little holes in the stone where you could tie your camel, and hundreds of pillars and other stones with Greek and local Palmyran writing on them.
Another pretty extraordinary site.
That is a Mamluk castle on the hill. The only people who have ever fought over it were the French - Free France versus Vichy France in the Second World War. You would never have picked it. The local prince who built the castle tried to conquer the Turks but only got about 50km before his army was turned back and he was taken to Constantinople for execution.
Palmyra was very wealthy, and a long way from Rome. The penchant for taking on superpowers (which modern Syria seems to also be following) started around 300 AD, when a certain Queen Zenobia, who claimed to be descended from Cleopatra, took control of the city and decided to march on Rome. The Roman military machine and the distance did not seem to bother her. Six years after she rose to power the Roman Army returned, taught her a lesson and burned the city to the ground. That was the first stroke of bad luck for the locals. The second was in 1991 when the fresh water springs dried up. Now the city survives on pumps, artesian water, tourism and proximity to lots of non-conventional business opportunities in Iraq.
Another minor upstart in the Zenobian tradition.
And this is how the locals ride their camels.
Something we did not expect were these burial towers. Some are four storeys high and bodies were piled six to eight high with fifty people per floor. It is amazing they have stayed up for so long, but the bodies are long since gone. There are internal staircases all the way to the top, and now the towers are crammed with Italian tour groups.
That is most of Syria. There was a little bit more of interest in Aleppo (where we came so close to the President) but that will have to wait until another day. After four weeks making smalltalk in Arabic we now need to learn some Turkish, and that is proving a bit difficult, particularly with all the aphrodesiac tea around the place ... 
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