Lebanon and Syria

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Roads from Damascus
by David Gourley

'Travel broadens the mind' might be a tired cliché but it is nonetheless true. Just about every country I have visited turns out to be different – and usually this means better – from what I might have imagined.

Syria in particular gets a rather bad press these days. It is portrayed as a rogue state yet it is one of the friendliest countries I have visited. Syrians are aware of their isolation and the mere fact that one has chosen to visit their country gives one a certain kudos. Certainly we encountered no anti-western feeling whatever, which is more than can be said of an earlier visit to Jordan, generally regarded as much friendlier to the west than Syria.

Syria’s isolation means that tourism, despite its tremendous potential, has not greatly developed compared to that in Egypt, say, or Turkey. This has its minuses but maybe a few more pluses. One can wonder around its historic sites for the most part unbothered by crowds or by tradesmen. In her farewell speech to our very likeable guide, Fatih (pronounced ‘fatty’), a member of our party was cheered by us all when she referred to the absence of a McDonalds in Damascus. On the other hand accommodation is not generally of western standards (though the new Four Seasons in Damascus, not yet open when we visited, might help to change that). Our flight to Damascus with Syrianair provided a foretaste of this. Our hotels were four-star but one needs to remove at least one star to get the equivalent western rating. If gourmet dining is essential to one’s holiday, it might be best to go elsewhere. The ubiquitous but seldom varying mezze rather lost their novelty after a while.

Syria is also remarkably safe. Fatih welcomed us to “the safest country in the Middle East - and in the world”. A slight exaggeration, maybe, but, very unusually, the Lonely Planet guide to Syria does not include a section on “dangers and annoyances”. Crime is very low - and we found it hard to believe in this peaceful country that we were next door to Iraq!

We started in Damascus, where we had a full day guided tour. The modern downtown is nothing very special but the historic old city is a real gem. Damascus vies with its great rival Aleppo for the claim to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. There is no definitive founding date in either case, so the two cities have to make do with sharing the accolade. What can be said is that Damascus dates back at least to the third millennium BC. Wandering around the narrow and picturesque alleyways of the old city is a delight. Here too are the atmospheric souks. Centrally located in this area is the magnificent Umayyad Mosque, in terms of sanctity second only to the mosques in Medina and Mecca. Unlike in those Saudi mosques, non-Moslem visitors are welcomed.

There are strong Biblical associations. It was of course on the road to Damascus that Saul, soon to be Paul, was stuck by a blinding light. That experience eluded us but we did stroll along the Street called Straight, the route Ananias was instructed to take when summoned by God to go and meet Paul, whom he cured of his blindness. This picturesque street is fairly straight but not exactly so, hence the appellation “called Straight”. At the end of the Street is the Church of Ananias wherein is a beautiful set of pictures depicting the life of Paul. Close by is the chapel which is held to be - there is some historical controversy here - the one from which Paul was subsequently lowered in a basket to escape arrest and begin his new life as an Apostle.

We next had a day trip to Bosra, which is close to the Jordanian border and is not to be confused with its Iraqi near-namesake, Basra. We were to see some fine scenery in Syria but not on this trip. The drive was through rather grim desert, very similar to what we had seen on the other side of the border when driving between Petra, Amman and Jerash. Main interest was seeing the Israeli-occupied Golan Heights in the distance. I had rather expected Bosra to be like the magnificent Roman site at Jerash, which is quite close by. I was thus in for a surprise for whereas the site at Jerash is standalone, Bosra is a living city, its inhabitants dwelling amidst the ruins of the old town. So Bosra is for free, apart from the separately located Roman Theatre, one of the finest such constructions anywhere. On the way back we paused in Izra (no, we’re not in Israel, quipped Fatih) to visit one of Syria’s oldest churches, the Greek Orthodox Basilica of St George.

The next four nights were to be spent away from Damascus. We headed first for Palmyra, in the east of the country. This too entailed a trip through the desert but, once we’d left the environs of the capital, it was quite pleasant. We had a refreshment stop at a small establishment which continues to call itself the Baghdad Café and a bit beyond is the junction of the road to Iraq, some seventy miles or so to our south. I was glad we were continuing east! Signs to borders simply give the name of the country: “Jordan 20 km” or whatever. The sign here to Iraq is, we were told, much photographed these days and we took this photo-opportunity.

Palmyra has to be one of the highlights of a visit to Syria. I might settle for ranking it equal first with the Old City in Damascus, Krak des Chevaliers, and the Citadel in Aleppo. By any standards the Roman ruins constitute one of the greatest historical sites anywhere. The magnificent and well preserved Temple of Bel would, on its own, be worth the long traipse into the desert but there is plenty else to see here and we had a fascinating afternoon, which finished with a drive up to the castle, from where there was a fine view over the complex.

There is a modern town of Palmyra, adjacent to the ruined city, but we got only a brief glimpse of this as our overnight stay was to be in Homs, Syria’s third city after Damascus and Aleppo. This was November, giving the advantage of reasonable temperatures, Palmyra in particular being baking hot in summer. The downside was that it got dark very early and our lengthy journey across the desert was entirely in darkness so a bit boring. Lonely Planet is rather unkind about Homs, quoting the joke that the only thing that is refined about the city is its oil – it boasts a huge oil refinery, which we saw the following day. We did not get much chance to judge for ourselves, as a city tour was not included.

Syria is not all desert. There are mountains and much fine scenery in the western part of the country and the next few days gave us a chance to enjoy some of this. On the first of these days our main port of call was the magnificent Crusaders’ castle, Krak des Chevaliers. This was our first visit to such a castle though rather tantalizingly we had seen the one in Kerak, Jordan, in the distance. There was some other sightseeing to be fitted in. First we stopped in Safita, a charming mountain town that almost had an Italian feel about it. Here we visited the White Castle. Next on our itinerary was Sulaiman Fort, a ruin and not, in truth, overly interesting.

We then took what Fatih, an architect by profession who only does occasional tour guiding, called a “short cut” to the Krak. Some mistake surely as it seemed to be never-ending. We thus got to see rather more of Syria than we’d expected - and maybe the same went for our driver, who from time to time stopped to ask people the way! The scenery was great but I started to fret we’d have insufficient time at the Krak and was thus rather relieved when we at last got there. In fact we didn’t have quite enough time. There is a lot to see and Fatih gave us a comprehensive tour. The one thing however that I wanted to do above all was to go up to the roof and admire the superb view. Come closing time, we had just about seen everything else but Fatih said that there was not time to go up on the roof. I sneaked up anyway.

Fairly close by is the Monastery of St George, which was also on our itinerary. George might be the patron saint of England but he is also rather big among Christians in the Middle East, vanquished dragon and all. This is a lovely building. It was dark by the time we got there but it looked all the more atmospheric. We headed back for our second night in Homs.

Generally the weather during our stay in Syria was good but the following day, as we headed for Ugarit, the heavens opened and there was driving rain as we made our way up the Mediterranean coast and through the port of Latakia. But luck didn’t desert us. The rain stopped just as we reached Ugarit, which is a few miles to the north of Latakia. The rest of the day was showery. Ugarit is a smallish but important site, and well worth a visit. It lays claim to be the founding place of one of the earliest alphabets, Ugaritic (the Syrians will tell you that it was the very first), developed some 4000 years ago. Before that written language had depended on pictograms, as in hieroglyphics. Ugarit’s other claim to fame is that it was the world’s first international port.

We then headed inland to Qa’alat Salah ad-Din, described by T E Lawrence as “the most sensational thing in castle building I’ve seen”. I don’t think he was far wrong. The Krak is the more splendid of the two buildings but what this other castle has going for it is its dramatic location, sited on a ridge between two steep ravines in mountainous terrain. Night soon fell after we finished our visit and we now headed for Aleppo, where we were to spend two nights. By day our journey would have been fascinating, through small towns and villages and plenty of fine scenery. But as nighttime soon fell after we commenced our drive it became a bit tedious. Before long, it will be possible to do the trip by the motorway which is being built between Aleppo and the coast.

There is a modern town of Palmyra, adjacent to the ruined city, but we got only a brief glimpse of this as our overnight stay was to be in Homs, Syria’s third city after Damascus and Aleppo. This was November, giving the advantage of reasonable temperatures, Palmyra in particular being baking hot in summer. The downside was that it got dark very early and our lengthy journey across the desert was entirely in darkness so a bit boring. Lonely Planet is rather unkind about Homs, quoting the joke that the only thing that is refined about the city is its oil – it boasts a huge oil refinery, which we saw the following day. We did not get much chance to judge for ourselves, as a city tour was not included.

Syria is not all desert. There are mountains and much fine scenery in the western part of the country and the next few days gave us a chance to enjoy some of this. On the first of these days our main port of call was the magnificent Crusaders’ castle, Krak des Chevaliers. This was our first visit to such a castle though rather tantalizingly we had seen the one in Kerak, Jordan, in the distance. There was some other sightseeing to be fitted in. First we stopped in Safita, a charming mountain town that almost had an Italian feel about it. Here we visited the White Castle. Next on our itinerary was Sulaiman Fort, a ruin and not, in truth, overly interesting.

We at last made it to Aleppo and here a pleasant surprise awaited us. We had not been greatly impressed by our hotel in Damascus (a better one was to be used when we returned to that city), the one in Homs had been an improvement and here in Aleppo we were in one of the city’s charming boutique hotels, the Diwan Ramsy, quite recently opened and formerly two separate historic houses. It is attractively located amidst narrow lanes in the old city and from its rooftop courtyard there is a stunning view of Aleppo’s massive Citadel, which is floodlit at night. We were pleased with our room though on the downside dinner was somewhat mediocre and breakfast decidedly poor. Not all in our party welcomed the fact that (unlike other places we stayed in) this is a dry hotel, but we could be smug as we had our own supply of wine.

Sightseeing the next morning took us to the ruins of the Church of St Simeon, which enjoys a commanding hilltop location with views into Turkey. This is a rather sore point with Syrians for the territory in question was once theirs. The area, formerly know as the Sanjak of Alexandretta and bordering the Mediterranean, was ceded to the Turks by the French, who ruled Syria between the two World Wars and are not fondly remembered. The Syrians thus lost the ancient site of Antioch. Fatih, our guide, told us that some of his in-laws were among the displaced persons who fled to Syria. St Simeons is a fascinating site though the saint himself sounds rather an oddball character, who spent some 30 years atop a pillar, preaching to his audience, with women, including his own mother, barred. There was a railing around the top, and an iron collar round his neck, chained to the pillar to prevent him falling off when asleep.

Back in Aleppo we had a fascinating tour of the mighty Citadel, followed by a walking tour around the old city and the souks. There was a break before we started the walk, during which we got into conversation with an Iraqi family, who were on holiday and no doubt enjoying a respite from the problems in their own country. The father was a congenial former airforce pilot. We talked a bit about the situation in Iraq and ventured the suggestion that it might be another year or so before there is peace there. One of his beautiful teenage daughters looked at us sadly: “No, it will be about ten years,” she said. Fatih chipped in: “Maybe it will be our turn next.”

There was an included meal in a local restaurant that evening. Fatih, who lives in Aleppo, waxed lyrical about the distinctive local cuisine which we’d be enjoying. Yet what turned up were the usual mezze and, for the main course, some not particularly distinctive kebabs! But it was a pleasant meal nevertheless and there was a convivial atmosphere. A few of us on the walk back to our hotel went into the Baron Hotel for a drink. This was once one of the foremost hotels in the Middle East, a place where travellers on the Near Eastern extension of the Orient Express would linger a while, and some famous people have stayed there, including T E Lawrence, whose bar bill is displayed in the lounge. This hotel has known better days and is no longer especially grand, but there is a certain charm still and, if tourism in Syria ever seriously takes off, it might yet regain its former glory.

The next day was our final day of touring in Syria. We headed back to Damascus, visiting en route the Roman ruins at Apamea. These are less well-known than Palmyra but are almost as impressive. In contrast to the desert which surrounds Palmyra, there is a backdrop of green hills.

We had a brief stop in Hama, Syria’s fourth city, so we could look at its celebrated water wheels. The city centre has been extensively rebuilt in recent years, as much of it was destroyed in 1982 when a rather serious fundamentalist uprising was put down. This uprising was confined to Hama. Final stop was in Maalula, a predominantly Christian village which is an easy half-day trip from Damascus. As it was now dark, and the village is renowned for its dramatic location and beautiful houses, we rather wondered if there was any point, especially as it entailed a lengthy diversion. But we enjoyed our visit to the ancient Monastery of St Sergius, whose priest gave us an introductory talk. Maalula is of one the few places where Aramaic, the language of Jesus, is still spoken.

Like most in our rather large party, we’d booked a two-night add-on in Lebanon and this included two full days back in Damascus. A chance once more therefore to roam around the Old City. We had one disappointment. We had planned to revisit the National Museum, reasoning that we’d appreciate its contents all the more now that we were better acquainted with the country. We knew that, like many public buildings, it closes on Tuesdays so headed for it on our first afternoon, a Monday. There we found another couple from our party waiting outside. They’d been hanging around for some time, having been led to believe the Museum was closed for lunch. However, further enquiry revealed that it was closed for the rest of the day, as preparations were in hand for a reception in the evening, which was to mark a major new exhibition and would be attended by various dignitaries.

The four of us hotfooted it back to the Old City so we could be in time to go to as yet unvisited Azem Palace, which closes remarkably early and would not be open the next day. We made it with just enough time to look round. We ended up feeling rather glad that the Museum was closed for the Palace really shouldn’t be missed. This is a fine example of the distinctive Damascene architecture. This is not, as one might imagine, a single complex, rather one goes in and out of various rooms located around courtyards. There are mannequin displays in each room for the Palace also serves as the Museum of the Arts and Popular Traditions of Syria.

Another “must see” in Damascus is the main railway station. That might sound a rather odd thing to say but here we are talking about the Hejaz Station, so named from the legendary railway which was supposed to convey pilgrims to and from Mecca. It has a beautiful interior. The railway of course never got to Mecca, and nowadays stops well short of the Hejaz region, which is now part of Saudi Arabia. Once or twice a week, though, a train trundles down to the Jordanian capital, Amman. Currently there are no trains running from the Station, the terminus for now being a bit further out. The authorities are in the midst of a massive construction project which will bring the trains back to Hejaz Station using a tunnel. Damascus is certainly in dire need of better public transport.

We transferred by road to our hotel in Beirut. At the border we were met by our lovely Lebanese guide, Suzanna. During our stay in Lebanon, she spoke very frankly about the Civil War, which lasted some fifteen years. She had lived in Beirut throughout that period. She stressed that it was not about religion or politics: “we still don’t know why the war started – or why it ended”. The assassination earlier in the year of former President Rafiq Hariri had led to the so-called “Cedar Revolution” and the departure of Syrian troops. There had been comparisons with the “Orange Revolution” in Ukraine, with Beirut thus transformed into “Kiev-on-the-Mediterranean”. I did not really buy into this view. Ukraine, which we have visited (VISA, June and September 2004), was for many decades subjected to Soviet rule whereas Lebanon had been a genuinely independent state since WW2. It had, quite simply, imploded.

We had had qualms about visiting Lebanon. Terrible scenes from the civil war were still in our mind but it seemed a shame not to take advantage of the reasonably priced add-on offer and in any case the country has been at peace for 15 years. “Lebanon is a safe country,” Suzanna told us, with no sense of irony. She meant that crime is low. It is also the case that tourists can now go just about anywhere. A work colleague told me that, a few years after the civil war, she’d been to Beirut but not Baalbek “because it wasn’t safe”. Another colleague told me that, a bit later on, she’d been to Baalbek but not Sidon “because it wasn’t safe”. We went to both.

We first drove to Baalbek, one of the most magnificent anywhere of Roman sites. It is a huge complex, the Temple of Bacchus being the most impressive of all as it is still almost entire. Baalbek is located in the Bekaa Valley which is a stronghold of Hizbollah. Nowadays they operate within the Parliamentary system. It was still a bit offputting though to see their symbol at regular intervals along the road, together with the occasional pictures of Ayatollah Khomeini already mentioned. One of our party purchased a Hizbollah T-shirt and was no doubt looking forward to shocking the folk back home.

Despite the years of civil war, Lebanon is a lot more westernized than Syria and there is a reasonably good tourist infrastructure. We nevertheless preferred Syria. Our hotel was in Beirut, a stone’s throw from the Corniche which runs along the sea front. The next day we visited the National Museum, which closed during the Civil War, re-opening a few years afterwards. The staff did their best to protect the priceless exhibits during the years of conflict, which in some instances meant encasing statues in concrete. There was a rather moving video of the preparations for re-opening the Museum, with assorted treasures once more seeing the light of day. Suzanna told us she had wept when she heard about the looting of the Museum in Baghdad.

We then had a walking tour of the rebuilt downtown area, sometimes known as Solideré, after the company set up for this purpose by President Hariri. It has been tastefully done in traditional style, and is rather impressive. Yet, I was not alone in our party in thinking it was a bit soulless. Before the Civil War, Beirut was a lively and cosmopolitan city, the unofficial capital of the Middle East and the official capital of a country that was regarded as the “Switzerland of the Middle East”. One fears that what was lost during those appalling years will never come back. The city is effectively having to reinvent itself.

On a more positive note we on various occasions drove across the once-notorious “Green Line” which separated Christian East and Moslem West Beirut. Today there is no trace of it and amidst the bustle of heavy traffic going in all directions, it is impossible to imagine it ever having been there. It all seemed reassuringly normal.

I would not describe Beirut as a lovely city. There is nothing to compare with the old cities in Damascus or Aleppo. It sprawls for many miles in all directions. This sprawl followed us all the way to Byblos, some 25 miles up the coast. On the way we passed through Jounieh, which was just a fishing village before the War. Now, with its high rise buildings, it merges indistinguishably into the capital. During the War it was the main base of the Christian Maronites. Byblos itself is a haven amidst the sprawl, with its Roman site, Crusader Castle, and souk.

Before heading out of Beirut, Suzanna had taken us to a shrine for the assassinated former President. We were to go somewhere rather similar in Sidon, where feelings are if anything stronger still, since he was a son of that city. Suzanna clearly felt very strongly. It was obvious that she was not in the pro-Syrian camp, though tact prevented her from saying very much, given we had ourselves been touring Syria and liked the country, if not the regime. She clearly believed the allegations that the Syrian regime, or elements thereof, had some hand in the assassination. There is now under UN auspices an investigation into whether there is any substance to these allegations. There is no doubt that Rafiq Hariri had been a dynamic leader, to be credited with great energy in driving forward the rebuilding of his devastated country, not just in downtown Beirut but elsewhere.

Our final day’s itinerary took us down the coast to Sidon, where we explored the Crusader Castle, located on a small island which is reached by a bridge. Another attraction here is the Soap Museum which was however closed (soap as in ‘wash your face’ rather than TV!) We then had a scenic drive through the Chouf Mountains, stronghold of the Druze community, to Beiteddine Palace. It was from this impressive complex that the Ottomans once ruled. The Druze leader Walid Jumblatt restored the building after the extensive damage during the civil war, when it was in the path of the invading Israeli army. He declared it to be a “Palace of the People” and his family have donated many of the exhibits.

Having completed this visit we made out way back to the border with Syria, where we said farewell to Suzanna. She had been an excellent guide who was clearly proud of her country, despite the terrible times she had lived through. She lamented the fact that there was a lot of it we hadn’t seen. “You haven’t been to Tripoli or Tyre – you could change your minds and come back to Beirut with me!” We had one more night in Damascus and an early flight home the next day. Altogether an enjoyable and interesting two weeksu

I hold no brief for the Assad regime, which functions almost like a monarchy, with son succeeding father as surely as in next door Jordan, a real monarchy. Nowhere else have I seen anything like the huge number of posters in the street depicting a ruler, in this instance the President, Bashir al-Assad, more often than not accompanied by one of his late father, Hafez, and occasionally one of his elder brother, Basil, previously regarded as the heir to the presidency whose life was cut short by a car crash. This is, no mistake, a repressive regime and there is disappointment in the country that it has not opened up more under its new young president.

Yet the regime has provided stability, and for the most part peace, since the late president seized power in 1970. Those who would like to see “regime change” might ponder whether “letting go of nurse” would “lead to something worse”; peaceful change from within might well be the desirable way forward. As in Iraq under Saddam, the Baathists are the ruling party, but there was never much love lost between the two countries and Hafez al-Assad never descended to the depths of brutality displayed by his Iraqi counterpart. This is a secular society, in which women can choose for themselves whether to wear a veil and one can enjoy wine or beer, some of which is locally produced. The fairly large Christian community (comprising around 10% of the population, our guide included) and the Moslem majority intermingle without any problem. If forced to choose, I would rather have pictures of President Assad in his suit and tie than of some wild-eyed cleric with flowing beard (the occasional picture of Ayatollah Khomeini adorns the roadside in Lebanon’s Bekaa Valley).

First published in VISA issues 66-67 (Apr-Jun 2006)