The Rest of Syria

The eastern part of Syria where we were celebrities forced into using Arabic was really the highlight. What followed will likely go down in my memory as "the rest."

We spent a few days in Aleppo, Syria's business/trade center. It felt a lot like Damascus, Syria's governmental center. We explored the old city's cobbled streets and bustling souq (market), just as we had in Damascus, before leaving for Hama. When we arrived in Hama, a town that boasts about its river powered water wheels, we discovered that the reason they boast about them is that they are the only thing special about the town. We took a long river walk around and spent the rest of the day getting our pictures taken being superimposed on mountain landscapes in photoshop. Add me holding a squirrel, Heather riding a fox, a few tropical birds flying around and copies of our eyes enlarged and slightly translucent overlooking the scene from the clouds. A later version had each of us popping out of eggshells in matching shirts. The whole endeavor was great fun. I'm sure our crazy images are being used as marketing materials somewhere in Syria.

From Hama we spent a day exploring Krak de Chivillers, a huge castle where we continued our obsession with photographs, snapping glamor shots with our own cameras and posing like Charlie's Angels in long stone corridors.

Our taxi to Krak had to return to Hama, but we wanted to go 45 minutes west to the coastal town of Tartous. We were told that if we stood by the road that a minibus would pick us up for a fare. Before a minibus arrived, however, an 18-wheeler carrying what we may have correctly understood as a load of bananas stopped. The ride was short, the road was major and the driver very friendly. We took the calculated risk and jumped aboard.

Tartous was a bit dirty - a rather unappealing touristy "beach" town. We played cards at a local coffee shop where we drew a rather large crowed of staring men smoking arguillas...the usual here in the Middle East. The highlight of Tartous was a small island 3km off the coast - Arward: population 1,500. The Lonely Planet described it as a glorified garbage dump (a description that had oddly attracted both Heather and I to the off-the-beaten path adventure). The description was a bit of an overstatement. There was trash, but no more than many other places in the developing world. We walked around exploring the narrow cobbled streets and the small ship building yards. A young woman sitting on her balcony invited us up to her second floor home. We sat drinking "fresh & cold" a.k.a. orange juice with her and her middle aged brother, making conversation about politics (her views, really, not ours) as well as her brother's various injuries collected on his many trips around the world as a professional boat captain. I was sorry we had already checked out of our hotel or we may have extended our time on the island. As it were, time was forgiving, but not ample. We needed to get to the border in time to ensure entrance to our next stop: Lebanon.