25 years after the event (March 2022) I am starting to write up the wonderful 1997 trip Janie and I took to see Lebanon, Syria and Jordan, followed by some restful time in Eilat.
Hopefully my diary/log together with the many pictures we took will prompt my memory to tell the whole story, as my notes are light and even the Abercrombie and Kent itinerary (a bespoke jobbie for us as independent travellers) seems to have gone walkabout in the intervening quarter of a century.
Writing about it now is tinged with sadness, as I realise that many of the things we saw have been destroyed and can never be seen again. The artisan depicted in the headline photo, working away in the Aleppo Souk, is but one example of that.
The photos have been available on Flickr for some time, so Ogblog readers who like to look at pictures and read captions can glean much about the journey without reading the Ogblog pieces.
Here are links to the pictures divided by country visited:
The Ogblog pieces (will) mostly cover a day each, with highlights from the photo albums (and some stock photos where desires/required) to illustrate the stories.
Cross the border (quick) went on to Jerash – excellent Roman ruins but oh boy have we done ruins this holiday.
Not just spoilt by seeing so many splendid ruins…we’d been ruined by ruins.
Jerash was extremely photogenic though. There are loads of good pictures in the album linked below – all labelled up so you can see which ruin is which.
Into Amman & false start shaking into Philadelphia – upgraded to Forte Grand – then short tour of Amman with Mohammad. Saw amphitheatre, city centre etc.
Neither of us can remember the Philadelphia Hotel debacle, but the old grand Philadelphia had been closed/demolished some 10 years before our trip and the only Philadelphia Hotels that remain (and remained then) are/were very modest places. An upcock that was quickly uncocked, it seems.
No idea why we didn’t take photos – perhaps linked to the hotel confusion.
Then early knock off for rest in hotel then dinner at Reem Albawadi for Mansef, Narjilah etc.
The Forte Grand had fine views all right.
It was mostly locals at Reem Albawadi that night and I don’t think they quite knew what to make of us, ordering mansaf which is most certainly a dish for more than two people and then indulging in the local narjilah habit like a couple of old lags.
Set off early – stopping to see stunning Sayyidah Zaynab Mosque including ultra rare sighting of inside because Abdul told them that we are Andalusian Muslims!
I don’t think we would have the chutzpah to do this now. Abdel explained to us that non-Muslims are not allowed in that stunning mosque, so we expressed our disappointment and endeavoured to photograph it from a distance.
Abdel then suddenly said – “let’s go inside”. I’ll tell the men that you, Ian, are an Andalusian Muslim who only speaks Spanish and English. On the women’s side, Janie, you tell them that your husband is a Muslim and that you only speak English and that you are training to be a Muslim.
The “Andalusian Muslim” idea came from a conversation we had around one of Abdel’s tapes, which was Syrian Bedouin music but I mentioned that some of the tunes and rhythms reminded me of Moorish music from Andalusia. Here’s the very music we discussed so you can decide for yourselves, dear readers. About six minutes into the second track it starts to sound really quite flamenco to my ears.
Anyway, regardless of my dubious musicology, our dubious identity story passed muster with the mosque authorities without a glitch. Clearly I had the physiognomy to support the story – I looked like a Syrian soap opera star – remember?
Janie got on very well on the women’s side. One local woman spoke very good English and was delighted to help Janie with her training by trying to help her to say some players in Arabic. Janie explained that she was new to it and found the language side of it very hard; her female companions were extremely supportive.
Of course we could take as many photos as we wished, we were honoured guests.
It was a stunning, never-to-be-forgotten experience for us.
Carpet weaver in ShahbaGrieving Druze womenOn the road towards Bosra
Then onto Qanawat – a single monument in a pretty village.
Qanawat’s up doc? The Seraglio, that’s what.
Then straight on to Bosra. After hotel stop – toured citadel and amazing amphitheatre.
Quick lunch break and then quick once over town racing against the rain. Sanctuary at friend Michal’s place – he also showed us the underground market which we missed in our rush.
Michal’s Place
Back to hotel and early night.
That had been quite a day – one of the most memorable.
…on to small mosque (Tekkiye) & then artisan crafts area (glass blowing, carving etc.).
Then walked to old town via beautiful old railway station and then entered souk. Shopped lots –
“I sometimes wonder, as we enter the souk through this gate”, whispered Abdel, “whether my tourist guests want to see pictures of our leader quite as large as this?”
Unlike other towns in Syria, the Damascus souk seemed heavily policed by overt and covert cops. When merchants wanted to transact in hard currency in Damascus, it was a secretive operation well away from prying eyes.
Left Palmyra heading for Damascus. Past phosphate factory and then diverted to Maaloula – old painted village [town].
I can only apologise to Ogblog readers for Daisy’s and my failure to photograph the phosphate factory, saving our film for the beautiful town/village of Maaloula.
We had tea at Chez Abu George – then saw the Convent of Saint Thecla – a nice little orphanage church and shrine
…then went and tried local wine and Aramaic with Abu George.
I don’t know why we have no photos of Abu George. But I did procure a cassette from him of Aramaic singing, which I have since digitised, so you too can try some Aramaic:
Aramaic Songs Side OneAramaic Songs Side TwoHave one last look at Maaloula
Then climbed hill via stream to second church (Saint Sarkis) then saw some cave dwellings and scenic views & on to Safir Hotel for snack.
Seriously scenic views
Bumped into our dear old friend (the chef from the Safir Homs) who specially produced Syrian country soup (lentil & lamb) – lovely. Then onto Damascus for [Cham Palace] health centre, revolving restaurant, dinner and early night.
You can see The Great (Umayyad) Mosque Of Damascus in the distance
Geddo [I] was pretty poorly (marid [bedevilled]). Set off early – tea and cake in cafe (tea deliberately [strongly] made to make Ged throw up.
Abdel sure knew what he was doing to make my indisposition short, far from sweet but also far from debilitating. My guess is that I got my upset stomach the day before, not from eating at Abdel’s house, but from foolishly munching at nuts before washing my hands after buying them for cash in the Aleppo souk.
The women in this household said I looked like their favourite Syrian soap opera star.We didn’t stay to eat but naturally these Shezar people offered us food.
Then long drive to Palmyra– Hama, Homs, countryside and then desert. Visited Bedouin family 40km west of Palmyra…
Yoghurt making was their thing. The young woman on the right complained of pains in her gut. Contrary to the text book, Janie gave her some paracetamols and suggested that she only seek medical help if those didn’t relieve the pain.Better to have me inside the tent…
…before arriving at Palmyra at dusk. Early supper in hotel and early night.
A truly memorable and enjoyable day, despite the fact that I was feeling wobbly throughout and that long journey days are not normally the most memorable/enjoyable.
Daisy dressed for the occasion…Ged not so well prepared for being mobbed by local kids
We tended to be mobbed (by which I mean warmly greeted) by local people almost everywhere we went in Syria (Damascus perhaps the exception). They seemed so pleased to see Western travellers and I proved especially popular with the middle-aged women, as apparently I bore more than a passing resemblance to one of their favourite soap opera stars!
…and then we shopped in the souks etc.
I bought a couple of thobes in the Aleppo souk
I want to write a few general words about our wonderful guide, Abdel. Janie and I have been fortunate to have had many extremely good guides with us for our travels. Abdel, who toured Syria with us for a week or so, was exceptional in every way. He knew his stuff as a guide, judged with great professionalism how much detail we wanted (and didn’t want) in various places and made our touring lots of fun as well as informative. He was a great one for breaking from the itinerary to show us an element of real Syrian life, e.g. to treat us to some snacks in a local place and/or introduce us to the many people he knew all around the country. Abdel also had a wicked sense of humour, teaching me some gutter Arabic and then warning me not to use it in edgy situations.
Abdel and his family lived in Aleppo; Janie and I have often wondered what became of them in the war there. He was a very intelligent fellow – let’s hope he and his family found a way to escape the worst excesses of the devastation there.
Back in 1997, when we were in his home town, he isnisted that we visit his home for dinner that evening.
Dinner at Abdel’s place – spartan surroundings but good food including mulukhiyah and boiled fowl.
Set off for the border – completed formalities with ease (apparently) and then went to Krak des Chevaliers, somewhat against Raymond’s will. Superb crusader castle – huge and interesting.
The border crossing from Lebanon to Syria was the only one in which our driver/guide was allowed to take us across the border some distance and was thus the only straightforward one of this trip. But Raymond (whom Daisy has just described as, “oh yeh, he was a bit of an idiot”) did not want to show us Krak des Chevaliers – he wanted to drive past it as he deemed it a lesser place than the Tripoli citadel.
We got our way. Just as well. Krak was both fascinating and stunning-looking.
Coincidentally, I have recently (Spring 2022: at the time of writing this piece) been in correspondence with cousin Adam Green who was commissioned the preceding year to do an illustrative visualisation of Krak. We have enjoyed swapping pictures and tales of our very different Krak experiences. Adam has (even more recently) written up his tale and posted his wonderful illustration on-line - click here or the embedded link below.
