Crac des Chevaliers

We’ve hired a private bus to bring us to Crac des Chevaliers.  The drive is uneventful but on the way we pass the turn off to Iraq and we contemplate hitching a ride to Baghdad.  In the end we decide it might be better to stay on the trip we’ve already signed up for and pile back into the bus :)

(Just kidding mum)!

We get here in time to see the sunset and rest up a bit before enjoying a delightful dinner at our hotel.  I have a room with a view and what a magnificent view it is.

I thoroughly enjoy exploring the castle the next morning.  We’ve come armed with torches and have great fun creeping through secret passageways and learning the history of the Crusader knights who built and expanded this magnificent place.  I can see why Lawrence of Arabia called this the finest castle in the world.  It is in a spectacular setting and is a stunning castle. The Knights being monks were celibate and hence the castle was very much a man’s world.  One solitary tower was reserved in the event visitors arrived with their wives. 

The castle was like a small city, completely self sufficient with enough supplies to last 45 days if under siege.   There is a church, baths, a huge kitchen that fed the hundreds of Knights that lived here, stables that housed their horses and of course a round table where they sat to discuss their future plans.  An aqueduct supplied water to the moats around the castle and rain water was harvested for drinking.   The level of sophistication shown in the construction of these castles is quite amazing for the times! 

We have a local guide who tells us his family lived in the castle till about the 1930’s when they together with the other 19 families who had also made this place their home were relocated.  As he shows us around, he takes us to the section his dad called home for quite some time.  Fascinating!

Our visit is over and we enjoy a Turkish coffee in the scenic cafe outside before boarding our bus for Aleppo, our last destination in Syria!

 There is a great deal of unmapped country within us which would have to be taken into account in an explanation of our gusts and storms.  ~George Eliot

Palmrya

We take public transport and arrive in Palmrya in time for dinner.  Dinner is at a local restaurant a couple of doors down the road.  We sit around a table in a restaurant decorated brightly with middle eastern carpets and tuck into the local delicacy, chicken mensaf.  It reminds me of chicken buriyani, a local favourite in Sri Lanka.  It is a tasty, spicy rice dish cooked in  chicken broth  which is served with pieces of chicken and garnished with herbs and nuts.  We are tired and hungry after a long bus ride getting here and tuck in happily to another great meal in the middle east.

After dinner we browse the little shops and one of the shop owners enquires if he can buy me as his wife for 20 camels!  I am not sure if I should be flattered or insulted (I mean..what’s a decent bride price around here??) but smile sweetly and escape quickly, declining his offer to stay and chat. 

We wake up early to go back to the restaurant for pancakes with date syrup, before we explore the ruins of Palmrya.  The local Syrian boys follow us around, hawking their wares and posing for pictures.

Palmyra was a city along the old camel caravan route linking Africa, Asia and Europe and served as an important staging post in days gone by.  It came into its own after  Petra’s downfall and became one of the most important cities in the region.

Palmrya was also an important link along the Silk Route and thrived from the taxes levied on the caravans that passed through here.

The ruins are extensive and hint at what life must have been like in Palmrya’s heyday.  From the forum where many discussions took place, to the  place of sacrifice where many animals were slaughtered in exchange for various requests, to the theatre where people were entertained, we see the ruins of a sophisticated society.  I am impressed by the olive press.  Food must also have played an important part in the life of this city. 

Bilingual inscriptions on the pillars indicate they were also a very educated society.  I am intrigued by the separate drainage systems for disposing waste water & rain water and for the distribution of clean water for drinking.

We wander around taking photos and enjoying the views of this magnificent ruin before heading back for lunch. 

We go back to our favourite restaurant for one last meal. The chef is a good cook and by now has made friends with us.  My fellow travellers joke around and tell him I am a Sri Lankan Princess.  She isn’t a Princess, he replies, she is a Queen!  I think I have a fan :)

My friend Emily jokes that he probably thinks I am too old to be a princess but I have the last laugh when he invites me for a motor bike ride to the castle for a panoramic view of his city.  I agree, but we have limited time and I ask if we can be back in 20 minutes so I am not late back for my next bus ride.

We ride up the hill.  The wind is in my hair and the city of Palmyra spreads out before me.  It is a great feeling to be on a bike again.  We stop before we reach the castle so I can admire the view.  It is quite a different perspective to look down on the old city and see the more recent dwellings spread out in the distance.  Amori lights up a cigarette and tells me a little about his life in Palmyra but my time is limited and I have to go.

I snap a few last minute photos and say goodbye to Palmyra. ‘the beautiful wonder’, before we head back down and I catch a bus out of town. 

 

Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes.  ~Hugh Prather

The Azem Palace

It is our last morning in Damascus and as we walk through the tunnel to the souq for the last time, I make a pledge that one day I will return to this city that will forever have a special place in my heart.  The sunlight is streaming through roof and creating a lasting image of a beautiful place, in my mind.  It is Saturday, so the place is a hive of activity, quite different to when we made our way through here the day before.  I will never tire of wandering around the old city of Damascus.  Discovering the old houses that have now been converted to boutique hotels with the most delightful gardens.

Our destination this morning is the Azem Palace, the prettiest of them all and built in the ‘stripey’ Damascus style of black basalt and sandstone.  It was built in the 18th century by the then governor of Damascus and is a truly beautiful piece of architecture.  Each room tells the story of some part of this amazing culture and is beautifully decorated.  I love the high ornate ceilings with intricate artwork that sets off the elegant furniture very well.

We learn about everything from marriage rituals, Haj, family life and the various trades that flourished in the area.  The tradition of story telling is explained as is the habit of men to patronise the cafes where story tellers could be found.  I guess it was the equivalent of your local pub today. 

Time is moving fast and we have a bus to catch after lunch..but we have one more cafe to explore.  This time it is the Ecological and Biological Garden cafe where we have a nice healthy meal of chicken sandwiches washed down with great juice cocktails and finished with their piece resistance – a Kit Kat Sandwich. 

I have come to believe that one of the greatest feelings of contentment in life, comes from the sense of satisfaction one gets, after finishing a great meal.  I guess we can now happily say au revoir to Damascus.  Till we meet again… 

 One of the very nicest things about life is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating.  ~Luciano Pavarotti and William Wright

A Turkish Bath in a Syrian City..

After 8 months of being on the road, a Turkish Bath or hammam was just what the doctor ordered!  When we learnt that Damascus was a great place to try one, Emily, Yvonne and I decided it was time to give it a try! 

The ritual of the hammam has been a part of the culture here from the eighteen hundreds.  It was how the women of the cities bonded and spent a girls day out together.  Many wealthy families might have had their own private hammam built into their houses but most people would use the public baths.  It would have been the place where women socialised and where prospective mothers-in-law would check out suitable spouses for their sons.  While there weren’t too many opportunities for men to get to know the young girls in their cities, their mothers having checked them out in the hammams would then play a big part in the negotiations between the families when it was time for their sons to choose a bride.  

For the modern women of today, it is just a great social opportunity to chill with their girl friends.  A time to catch up on what’s going on in each others lives and the local gossip.  You might even have an entire bridal party come to a hammam as part of their hens night or day out.  think it is much more fun to do this together with the girls, rather than on your own. 

While having lunch at a local boutique hotel, we discovered they had a private hammam so we made reservations right away and here we are.  After stripping down, we are given pestamals or sarongs to wrap around us and led down to the steam room.  The steam is swirling around us and I have flashbacks to  Petra Inn (where we were caught in a mini fire).  We sit around a marble bench and feel all the toxins slowly seep out of our skin.  It is a great feeling but occasionally the steam gets so thick we can hardly breath and we crouch down to get cool.

We are then led one by one to a second room.  One of the ladies at the hammam asks me to lie face down on the marble floor, where she has spread my sarong.  She then begins to scrub my body from head to toe, peeling off layers of dead skin from many months on the road. This feels good.  She then shampoos my hair and works on my head.  After a complete exfoliation process, I am led to another room,where I lie face down once more (on a bed this time) for an amazing massage.  I am not sure what she rubs on my body, but it smell and feels wonderful.

The last step in this process is a shower.  I am led to one of the individual basins that line the room and warm water is first poured all over me and then finally a bowl of cold water which really wakes me up.  I am then wrapped up in more towels and led upstairs to the reception area where a cup of tea and my friends await.  

I have not felt this good in a very long time.  I feel incredibly clean and my aches and pains of backpacking around the world for 8 months have been scrubbed and massaged away.  We lounge on the sofa, sipping hot tea before changing back into our clothes and walking out to their gorgeous courtyard, where a feast off fuul (bean salad), hummus, yogurt, pickles, rice and bread await. 

We sit here in complete contentment and feast.  A a special treat in a special city. 

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.
C. S. Lewis

The Old City of Damascus

The old city of Damascus is a great place to people watch, shop in the souq, get a dose of history, say your prayers and eat till you drop. 

Our first stop on Friday is the Umayyad Mosque.  Friday of course is the holy day in the Middle East and the day when all the shops are shut and people take time out to visit the mosque to pray. 

The mosque has not yet opened for visitors when we get there and there are masses of people standing around.  Many of them are Muslim pilgrims from neighbouring countries, while others are locals from the neighbourhood. 

Friday is also the day when women visit the mosque to pray so there are people of both sexes waiting to get in.  It is a good time to people watch…

Yvonne and I are distracted by what appears to be a story teller.  

A crowd of male pilgrims are listening to him intently as he passionately narrates a story from the Quran.  The women are seated on the outskirts and seem to be listening as well.  Later we learn they are Iranian pilgrims.  At one point, the story gets so intense, the men are in tears and keep dabbing at their eyes.  I have never seen anything like this and am amazed at their passion and the intensity of their beliefs. 

Cafes where men would gather to socialise, discuss politics, drink and exchange ideas or wait out a stressful event (read birth of a child) while listening to a story teller are also very much part of the old culture of this city so it is interesting to see this in practice by pilgrims at the mosque. 

The mosque opens and we buy our tickets and hire a local guide who gives us a fascinating insight into the culture and history of this mosque.  Us women are given long, brown, unflattering abayas to wear before we are allowed to go inside.  This spot has been a place of worship for thousands of years.  It has been converted from a Temple of Jupiter (Roman times) to a Byzantine cathedral to the mosque it is today.

We find it quite interesting that the elements found in a mosque are very similar to that found in a church.  From the pulpit for special sermons on Fridays, to the stained glass windows, minarets, people kneeling in worship and the high ceilings, it is very much like a cathedral with one difference.  The intensity of the beliefs of these people and their dedication to their religion is something I have not felt or witnessed in any church I’ve been to.  Some of the elements such as the baptism basins which have no similar use in Islam are used for cleansing themselves as they enter the mosque.  The Muslims believe that the minaret of Jesus found at this mosque is where Christ will appear on earth on Judgement Day!

We discuss the devotion of Muslims to their religion with our guide.  He thinks it might be the fact that all children are taught the doctrine at an early age and grow up in a close knit religious society that creates a sense of belonging where their religious beliefs play a big role in how their lives are lived.  While many Christians might go to church on a Sunday, not many of them are prepared to live the kind of simple life Christ talked about. 

While I knew there were a lot of similarities between Christianity and Islam, I never expected to stumble across the shrine of John the Baptist inside!  It is supposed to hold the head of this great prophet (known as Yehia to Muslims) and a giant candle encased in gold is placed outside the golden cage which houses it.   

It has been an amazing morning of wandering through the mosque and absorbing the intensity of feeling amongst the worshipers here.  This is one of the greatest religious centres to Muslims around the world and it was special to be there on their holy day.  We could feel the spirituality of the place but we come down to earth when our stomachs start to rumble and go for a wander in the Christian quarter, in search of food.

“She measures time, not by days and months and years, but by the empires she has seen rise and prosper and crumble to ruin.  She is a type of immortality.”  Mark Twain 

A Postcard from Damascus

Ahlan wa sahlan from Damascus, Syria!  We have arrived here by means of a taxi convoy from Jordan, crossing the Syrian border quite easily, despite the fact, both Victor and I did not have our visas issued in advance in the country we resided in, as one is supposed to do according to the regulations here. 

This was not due to any fault of our own.  I left Sydney far too early for the Syrian embassy to issue me a visa.  (It can only be issued 3 months before you enter the country, at a stretch 6 but no more than that).  Despite numerous calls and emails begging them to bend their rules for a world traveller, the embassy staff were inflexible on that one!

The only way I could get one was to have shipped my passport back to Australia, a risk that of course I was not prepared to take, while in Africa!  Fortunately for me, the travel gods were smiling down on me the day we crossed the border and we get through immigration with lots of smiles exchanged for a visa firmly stamped on my passport.  I’m glad I don’t have to take a cab back to Amman and fly to Turkey – the worst case scenario.  I feel very lucky to be here.  For whatever reason, the Spanish contingent just ahead of me were not let in but I, an Aussie, is allowed in!  Shukran, Immigration officer!

I am happy and excited to be finally here in Syria.  Years ago, my Dad told me if there was one country I must visit, it was Syria.  He never really elaborated on that statement but now that I am here in Damascus, I can see why.  I just wish he were still alive so I could tell him I made it.  

It is an amazingly historic city.  A place with legitimate claims of being one of the oldest inhabited places on earth and a it is a city with a ‘soul’.  I love Damascus! 

I would love to spend far more time than the 2 days we have here!  It boggles my mind that President Bush included Syria in the countries he named as part of the Axis of Evil.  It is an incredibly vibrant, sophisticated city where life has evolved and progressed amidst the history of the past.  The people here have welcomed us warmly and everywhere we go we’ve been greeted with the words, ‘Welcome to Syria’! 

Shopkeepers in the souk (market), invite us in by tempting us with a tray of welcome nuts or lollies.  There is no hassling here, just a local who is hospitable and doesn’t even care if we walk out with nothing.  Because of this, we often leave with a bag of sweets or nuts purchased for a dollar or two, having exchanged a friendly chat with a local curious about our origins.     

We’ve arrived around mid afternoon so after a bite to eat we venture out to get oriented and setup with money and snacks for our stay in a new country. 

Later on that evening we go out to the old city for a fabulous dinner at Al-Khawali, one of the best restaurants in town.  I don my Egyptian dress (a brightly coloured, embroidered affair purchased at the market) which I’ve teamed with a matching head scarf for the occasion.  I’m sipping an Emperor Cocktail (mango, vanilla and ice cream) while dining on tasty mezzah (appetisers) and kebabs.  The bread here is cooked in an open flame oven just across from where we sit and brought to our table, piping hot.  The dips and homus is to die for and we never seem to tire of trying yet another one.  This time it is walnuts, olive oil, tomatoes and garlic.  Yum.  Desert is deliciously sweet and sticky..a variation on the baklava theme. 

After dinner the boys decide they want to go clubbing and some of us decide to join them for a drink.  The club is in the Christian quarter and I am delighted to see it is a nice mix of locals and travellers.  I am the only person there with a head scarf :) !  Ha ha..I have never had so many glances and looks come my way as I have received today!  Going native always confuses the locals!  Perhaps the locals are wondering if I am an escaped Muslim girl out on for a night on the town.  Luke threatens to spread a rumour that I am a Sri Lankan princess and ask around if anyone wants to take their picture with me.  I’ve even got a new name – Princess Tehani (From Mutiny on the Bounty)!  But after one drink, Victor, Em, Yvonne and I escape before the boys can cause too much mischief! 

We walk through the tunnel, hoping to browse the souk along the way home but most of the shops are shut, a lot earlier than they would have in Egypt.  However, the best ice cream shop in the Middle East is open.  Victor is still hungry so we stop for ice cream and discover the Syrians have an an amazing sense of humour too!  Victor asks  the ice cream man to go easy on his helping.  “Just a small one”, he says, while watching in dismay as he keeps piling on the ice cream. 

He keeps a straight face, while trying to convince Victor this is a small ice cream in Syria!  We are all in fits of laughter while Victor poses for photographs.  Then the guy chooses a baby cone, and puts a very tiny dollop and tells Victor that it costs approximately US $10!  This kind of playful antics continue for awhile before Victor finally gets his ice cream.  It only costs a dollar and is an generous helping of amazingly soft vanilla ice cream dipped in pistachio nuts and topped off with a bit of chocolate and strawberry ice cream.

We’ve had such a great time with the guy, we promise to come back the next day and buy more ice creams from him.  He gives us all generous tastings and we leave with yet more pleasant stories to tell of the locals here.  We are still laughing when we finally return back to our hotel at midnight. 

“Some cities oust or smother their past.  Damascus lives in hers.” Colin Thubron

Jerash, Amman and the City of Mosaics - Madaba

Our first stop on our free day in Madaba is at Jerash, a historic town near Amman with one of the best preserved Roman Ruins in the East. 

 

In fact, this city has been named the ‘Pompeii of Asia’!

 

The hippodrome used to host chariot races in days gone by and today these races as well as the fights between gladiators are enacted with a fair bit of authenticity!  We had fun watching the men in togas!

We drive on to Amman and eat our lunch along the way.  This city which is reputed to have been occupied for more than 3,500 year is now congested and not that inviting when compared with some of the cities we have been to. 

Previously called Philadelphia, we spend just about a hour looking around the Citadel which is famous because the museum houses the dead sea scrolls. 

We drive back to Madaba, our base for the region and the city knows widely for its mosaics.  We visit St George’s Church to have a look at the mosaics and the famous map on the floor of the church.  The church is beautiful and we stay awhile listening to the music and admiring the artwork.

I’m off to Syria tomorrow for a week.  We may not have internet access at all so if you don’t hear from me in the next few days..you know why!

“A journey is best measured in friends, rather than miles.”

Karak, the Dead Sea and Mt Neba

We leave Petra early morning for a full day of travelling and some adventures along the way to our ultimate destination of Madaba. 

Our first stop is the Crusader castle of Karak, which became famous for the battles between the Muslim armies of Saladin, and the Crusaders.

We wander around and look down on amazing views of the surrounding area.

The castle includes stables, kitchens, soldiers barracks, a kitchen and the Crusader church.

We drive for another hour or so before we hit the Dead Sea.  After a great buffet lunch we are ready for our float in a place where even regular sinkers are guaranteed to float!  The Dead Sea is at the lowest point on earth and as a result of the high evaporation in the area has a salinity of 31%, which makes it 9 times more saline than your average ocean! 

Virtually  nothing can survive in this water which is unbelievably bitter on your tongue!

We have great fun in the water, practicing our synchronised swimming and trying to read a magazine! The Dead Sea is unfortunately, dying.  Due to numerous diversions upstream by farmers of the River Jordan, one of the main water sources of water for the Dead Sea, the water levels here have fallen by 27m!!  A number of options have been considered to stop this environmental disaster including piping water from the Red Sea!

Our last stop before we reach Madaba, is Mt Nebo, where Moses is reputed to have looked out over the Promised Land.

The Promised Land is to the left but the view today is really hazy and we couldn’t really see much.  Moses is supposed to be buried around here when he died at the ripe old age of 120 years! 

 The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.  -St. Augustine