Damascus

Today was spent reacquainting myself with this ancient and intriguing city, steeped in fascinating history.   It has sat for many hundred of years at one of the world's major crossroads.  To the East is Afghanistan and through there the Silk Route and the mysteries of the far Orient.  To the South is the cradle of some major religions and, of course, ancient Egypt.  To the East, by sea, and North by land are the relative now civilisations of Europe. 

Today, whilst lots of its history is evident or just below the surface, it is a thriving and bustling capital city of 5 million.

Our hotel was, whilst close to a massive 8 lane flyover, within 15 minute of the older parts of town.  It was slightly faded but the room was large and had a balcony.  By this stage in the journey the issue of laundry was looming large in many people's minds.  I was ambushed by the floor factotum who whisked my few bits off me.  Others were harder and declined his services, preferring to take their plastic carrier bags of dirty unmentionables to the laundry around the corner.  However, as they trooped in they met the factotum leaving having deposited mine !  Mine was delivered to my room within a couple of hours and there was the opportunity for the slightly damp bits to dry on the radiator - the external laundry came back the next afternoon without as much time for the final dry.

We walked down to the National Museum to find that it was undergoing a major refurbishment - this made for a much shorter visit than last time with more limited time looking at interminable glass cases.  It was disappointing that the synagogue that had been dug out of the sand was closed for restoration - the sand had preserved its colourful interior and it had been a truly amazing place of vivid colours and images.  Instead, there was an opulent interior of a reception room from a rich Damascus house - quite dim but full of inlaid furniture.

. . . and so to yet another highlight, the Hammadiyeh bazaar.  A wide barrel vaulted thoroughfare lined with a selection of well lit shops selling mostly clothing but with the occasional sweet and ice cream shop.  Off each side will alley ways that diminished in size the further them went from the main thoroughfare.  The tiers of the buildings gradually came in towards each other until there was often only a narrow slit of sky visible.  This must have been what Medieval cities in England must have been like - but without the street being an open sewer and night soil being emptied from windows on to those walking below.

I skipped the visit to Saladin's Tomb - it wasn't that impressive the first time I saw it but it was notable for him having two coffins : one in which he was deposited and one a gift from the Kaiser when he didn't feel the original was impressive enough for one of the Arab world's major heroes.

Ommayad Mosque

Across the way was the Ommayad Mosque - one of the World's oldest and largest.  The only hurdle here was that all the girls had to don properly demure garb borrowed from the authorities - no matter that they were already fully covered.  The mosque is massive and has a large marble covered courtyard that was very cold on our stocking feet - it must have been terrible in the recent snow.  Within the courtyard was a former treasury on stilts with a very small & secure door and a central fountain for the obligatory ablutions before prayer.  The other element was the equally big prayer hall - its floor was covered with a deep red carpet into which you could curl your toes.  Its pattern set out individual prayer area for each worshiper - where possible they are supposed to pray shoulder to shoulder with their companions.  To the rear of the hall was a separate area set aside for the women - not so much as a sign of inferiority but because it was thought that the mosque should be a solemn place of worship, not one for flirting with the opposite sex.  Apart from the slim columns supporting the roof the interior was clear with the only blemish being the tomb of St John the Baptist's head - or at least one of them.  A number are claimed around the world but this is the one to which the Pope came to pray.

We reverted to our favourite alley side eatery for lunch before returning to the hotel via the back alleys - the one that stuck in my mind was quite industrial with stoves, riding saddles and halters for sale but also fish and fruit

I met up with the others as they walked to a restaurant located in the courtyard of a large old house.

One of the unexpected things that struck me was how close the Golan Heights are to the city.  They loom with in a few miles - well within artillery range- it's easy to see why the Syrians were so jumpy when the Israelis took control of them