Arrived in Damascus International Airport at ~6am. The arrival area looked very spartan (which is why it was surprising to find 3 duty free stores later at the departure area). The customs gates were manned by intimidating-looking soldiers in uniform who hardly spoke a word -- English or otherwise. They handed me a card in Arabic, stamped my passport and then waved me through.

Outside the customs area, I was greeted with various offices much like that of any other airports. Most clerks gestured me to come over to partake a taxi or some other tourist trap. I smiled, said "no" and continue to walk away. To my delightful surprise, they all left me alone. This was much less intimidating than the hoards at places like Cairo.

I found the Currency Exchange office but it looked closed so I sat down for a moment when some other clerk called me over to his booth. I told him that I was waiting for the bank to open yet he continued to motion at me. He asked me whether I wanted to exchange money. Leery of the black market, I told him I only had travellers cheques and asked him what time the bank opened. He suggested that I simply bang on the glass of the bank because the clerk was probably still sleeping. When I did as he suggested, a bleary-eyed fellow stumbled out of an office door. He quoted me 45 Syrian Pounds for US$1 (1SP~US$0.0222). I exchanged some money and inquired about the bus into town. Strangely, he offered no receipt so one must wonder whether this is the norm or was he keeping the hard currency for himself. He confirmed that the bus into town (as suggested in The Lonely Planet: Jordan & Syria by Damien Simonis and Hugh Finlay (ISDN 0864424272)) is just outside the exit and the fare was indeed 10SP ($0.22) and proceeded to break one of my larger notes to give me exact change for the bus fare.

I went outside to wait for the bus. It was sunny but being early still, it was a bit chilly. There was only was only one other passenger ahead of me in the queue. A more elderly man followed soon after. Interestingly, he had no bags or luggage with him. He spoke English and asked me whether this was the bus into town. I said, "Yes." and he confirmed it in Arabic with the first passenger.

After a while, the driver appeared. He was a fairly big, gruff-looking, older man. We all climbed in and grabbed one of the wooden seats (made of thin plywood and thin metal tubing -- much like that from a school auditorium). The driver came by and collected the fare -- giving change as necessary along with a ticket. Driving down the highway, the land looked very green as compared to the desert view I saw from the plane. The highway and the architecture looked fairly modern and in some ways reminded me of Egypt. Along the way, I was surprised to find a plumper elderly man in a very western jogging suit taking his brisk morning walk down the highway.

After ~45 minutes, we entered heart of Damascus. It was very reminiscent of other Middle East towns. Small apartment buildings and shops with dusty roads. I wasn't quite sure of the exact location of the Bus Station. All I knew was that it was somewhat Northwest of the Old City and near my hotel. Being only ~7am, the streets were deserted - very reminiscent of my arrival in Athens on my Egypt trip. It is a very odd feeling wandering through the empty streets of a foreign land without knowing the language, the street signs or even a sense of direction.

I checked in at my hotel. The room was typical for this part of the world. It was with older furniture and the toilet was "sealed for my protection". There was a balcony which overlooked a school. Being Friday morning (the Muslim holy day), the streets were quiet but there was no mistaking the fact that I was on my own again in a totally foreign land.

After getting organised, I walked 7-10 blocks SouthEast to the Old City. There was a very nicely kept park nearby with flowers in full bloom. I walked passed the bus terminal near the highway off-ramp (near Port Said and Choukri Kouwatli). On the main East-West street (parallel to the highway), there were sidewalk stands selling mostly rather junky-looking household items -- from cooking utensils to batteries and plastic sandals which typifies Middle Eastern markets. It was now the afternoon and people were starting to roam the streets but other than a few inquisitive looks, very few people even took notice of me.

At Ath-Thaura Avenue, I scrambled across the busy intersection. (There was a round-about here and it was typical of crossing Middle Eastern streets -- life threatening.) I found the walls of the old Citadel and a very large statue of a mounted horseman (probably Salah Al Din aka Saladin) near one of the entrances into the old city. This was also the entrance to Souq and I was initially a little reluctant to take this path but being Friday, almost all of the stores in the souq (Souq al-Hamadyiyyeh) was closed and there was no one to bother me. Only two teenage boys came over and tried to speak Japanese to me and tried to show me their shops... and the black market.

The Old City is a labyrinth! A maze of dead-ends. Stumbled across the Omayyad Mosque. I peered into the gates and the gatekeeper invited me to purchase a ticket and enter via this gate (the East gate). I told him I'd be coming back tomorrow. The Old City is a combination of Arab and Roman architecture (from the Crusades). By the main gates of the mosque lies several roman columns. I continued walking parts of the labyrinth - running into Arab women heavily cloaked in black. I made my way back to the main street -- following the Citadel Walls along the stream to an entrance I had not previously noticed. (The stream is unfortunately littered with garbage and old clothes now.)

It was getting hot so I wandered back towards the hotel -- unfortunately, I took the scenic route. Even for a holy day, it was interesting to find the empty office buildings guarded by soldiers armed with rifles. However, these soldiers appeared friendly enough. Bought a carton of mango juice (thinking it was orange) and a couple of bananas (50SP or US$1.11). They offered to make me a sandweech. I declined -- thinking they meant sandwich but in reality, this was the local term for shawarma (which is cooked much like a donnair except lamb or some other meat). Had to walked several blocks north of the hotel. Managed to find the East-West street that the bellboy took earlier in the day. There is a Cham Palace Hotel (a popular 5-star hotel chain in this part of the world) nearby with a cinema near the lobby. They were showing the Jackie Chan movie Rumble in the Bronx. Quite a few western shops on these streets - one was selling radios and televisions, another was a travel agency and one was selling all types of alcohol.

After resting a bit back at the hotel, I took a stroll around the neighbourhood. It was rather festive now. Lights and noise everywhere. I had a shawarma at the corner for 20SP ($0.44). The cook jokingly asked me whether I spoke Lebanese or something. I must have been an interesting sight being a single Oriental amongst them. Afterwards, I wandered into one of the pastry shops (on Port Said street?) and had some white-doughy pastry (Mahalabiyya?) covered in syrup for the same price. At under $1, it was a very inexpensive meal.

Went back to the hotel to await the arrival of my travelling companions. Just watched Egyptian TV (old films and variety shows mainly) until I dozed off. At 2am, my companions finally arrived. The bellboy unlocked the door and my roommate stumbled in.

After breakfast the next morning, we walked south of the hotel and crossed over the highway. We first tried looking for tourist office to obtain a more detailed map of the city. Stumbled into the compound of what we believed to be the tourist office but the armed guards look at us very curiously as we walked boldly passed him. Alas, it was a government office and we wondered how closely we were to being arrested or shot.

Next, we made a visit to the National Museum. The building itself was surrounded by gardens and trees and the entrance was constructed to resemble a Natean castle. Inside, it was a very quiet place with many Roman statues and mosaics along with the statue of the priest from Ugarit who had probably developed the first alphabet known to man.

After the museum, we strolled on the East-West street (south of the highway) towards the Old City. Along the way, we stopped in front of another museum. There were MiGs outside. We thought it was a little odd to have military aircraft in a museum courtyard... but later we found out that it was actually the Army Museum.

We walked towards the citadel and visited the Post Office and the Hejaz Railway (of Lawrence of Arabia fame) along the way. As is everywhere else, the Railway Station had huge posters of King Assad and Basil. The tracks were narrow and thin. Apparently, it still takes 12 hours to reach Amman by rail even though it is only 4 hours by bus. Continuing around the walls of the Old City to the South West entrance and walked along the Street Called Straight (Via Recta) in the old Roman quarter (where St. Paul reputedly had lived). Going through the dark, covered street which housed the spices souq (in Souq al-Hamadiyyeh) we reached Azem Palace. There is a nice courtyard here with hanging plants everywhere. The rooms have all been converted into exhibits of clothing and lifestyle for the Museum of the Arts and Popular Traditions of Syria: Room of Marriage, School Room, Room of the Koran (on a grain of wheat) and the Bath/Sauna Room.

Next, we visited the Omayyad Mosque. Western women had to rent and don black, monk-like cloaks before entering. The courtyard was huge. The walls had been burnt down and rebuilt (with architectural styles changing with each phase). It was built in 705AD by the 6th Omayyad caliph, Al-Walid but the site dates back to the 9th century BC - including being the Basilica of St. John the Baptist. Inside, the mosque was very quiet. The floor was covered with some sort of cloth and in the middle was the Dome of the Eagle with 8 names inscribed: Allah, Mohammed, the first 4 caliphs (all companions of Mohammed) and the two sons of one of the caliphs. At one end of the mosque, encaged by iron bars, was a tomb shaped like a house. This was the shrine of St. John the Baptist and it is believed that his head is actually buried on this spot.

Leaving the mosque, we went to the Mausoleum of Salah Al Din. Inside were two tombs similar to the previous one - one housed the remains of the Muslim who overthrew the Crusaders and one housed Kaiser Wilhelm II who had the mausoleum constructed.

We decided to head back to the hotel. On the way, a couple of teenagers stopped to talk to us. One asked whether I knew Kung-Fu and remembering the current feature at the cinema, I told him I was Jackie Chan which made him break out in laughter and offer me the traditional Arab slap handshake (similar to a North American high five). Before we headed off the dinner, we took a quick scramble to the roof for some photos. All of Damascus was covered with television antennas and satellite dishes!

Copyright © 1997, 1998 C.M. Tam