Around Damascus the last few days, Bosra, and Christmas Shopping

December 3rd-6th

We decided to get out of Damascus and go and see some ruins. After all, we had not seen any for, ooh, at least a week, and Merryl hadn't seen any period. Not even an amphitheatre! And you simply can't come to Syria and not see at least one of those bad boys.

Bosra lies south Damascus, about 120km. Not far from the Jordanian border. We got a bus from San Maria, the main bus station for all south and west of Damascus. It was a pleasant enough trip to the town. We met a nice guy on the bus who worked for Syrian immigration on the Jordanian border. He, like so many Syrian people you meet here, wanted to invite us to his house for tea. An act of such basic human decency I am always moved by it. We politely declined as we were on a bit of a tight schedule and we had to get a bus back to Damascus that afternoon. But we enjoyed pleasantly passing the time on our journey chatting with him. We arrived pretty hungry but luckily there was a fantastic cafe with my name on it. Literally. So I convinced the others to eat there. We forgot the golden rule of asking before hand so we ended up paying over the odds.

...We are sitting in a cafe in the main town square in Bosra. It is eponymously named after me. I am enjoying sitting in my joint, telling Marcus and Merryl they can't eat my food. The sun is quite hot and is shining warmly down on the square. We are seated under a tree and a slight breeze is playing with the branches, shadows are falling in patterns across our table. The place is a shite-hole and Marcus keeps on telling me so. He is perfectly right, however I am not about to admit this. The food is passable, but we forgot to negotiate a price beforehand. I am kicking myself even before I have to ask for the bill. "Adayash, min-fadlek?" The price is ridiculous. In my cafe!! I start arguing with the owner. To our right, the great amphitheatre awaits us with a beckon...

We found the ruins pretty impressive. Bosra was originally a Nabatean city. Records show it existing around the 2nd century BC. It was converted into a Roman colony named Nova Trajana Bostra. It flourished as a juncture for several trade routes and was an important point along the Roman road to the Red Sea. Today, it still has some great sites, but the most important feature is its superb amphitheatre.

We spent a lovely morning exploring this theatre. We sat and took in the sunshine and took plenty of pictures. Afterward we explored the ruins of the old city The same architectural formula is applied to what remains of most Roman cities. The temples, the cardo maximus running north to south, bisected by the decamanus. The tetrapylons. The Nymphaeum and the Agora. The later addition of a basilica and a mosque. It was a pleasant enough afternoon.

... Merryl and I are sitting with our backs against the wall in the amphitheatre. Marcus has walked to the top of the upper tiers and is working his way around to the other side, his figure is a silhouette against the sun. Merryl is trying to photograph him. I am squinting across at the sectors trying to calculate roughly how many people this could seat. "mmm. twelve people per row, eight rows in each sector with two people added for each row so eight times eight plus fourteen extra for each row. That's one hundred and ten for each sector on the bottom. Times that by seven. Merryl is looking at me with mock incredulity as if I have no idea as to what I am going on about. I don't care. She is just jealous because she can't get past her nine times table. I tell her so. She sticks her tongue out at me...

We headed back to Damascus in the late afternoon and got into San Maria at sunset. Our taxi was on the meter for a change but the driver wanted to add extra. When we enquired as to the reason why he told us it was for fire reasons. That was a pretty good one. The driver the day before had wanted money for bends in the roads. Needless to say neither of them got it.


The last day we spent in Damascus was to do some Christmas shopping. So we headed down to souq by the Museum Marcus had found last week in order to try and get some presents to send back home. We found a shop with some brilliant fantastic Pashmina scarves. We negotiated a good price for them and picked up some other trinkets. It was a freezing day and Marcus headed off to chill out for an hour. Merryl and I decided to head down to the Christian quarter and do some more shopping. Here we picked up some very nice Kaffiyre head-scarves and soap, and some amazing chocolates. We then found a nice little bar in the Christian quarter and stopped for a sit down and a drink.

...The music is playing Glenn Madieras's 'Nothing's gonna change my love for you'. It has been on three times now. As has: "It must have been love"; "total eclipse of the heart"; and "My Heart Will Go On". We are sit in an quiet little bar off of Straight Street. It is resplendently reminiscent in my mind of an Indian restaurant I was in, in Oxford, some three months ago. It seems like an eternity. Bags of shopping are strewn all around us. Two empty glasses adorn the table. As does a bottle of half-full Lebanese wine. We are talking about Christmas, and how we plan to spend it. I am still unsure even to what country I will be in. Merryl will be heading home. Her two week stay is looking more like a month now. We are not even packed for Jordan. Celine Dion comes on again and Merryl groans in sincere agony. The bar-staff are hanging around uncertainly, they are unsure as to what on earth we plan to do about eating. I am swilling my glass in my hand and staring absentmindedly into the sanguine liquid, just enjoying the moment, the wine, and basking in the glow of feeling Christmassy -without the two month build up to it the UK usually affords me. I do not know this yet but, much later, Rachel and Marcus arrive and we will dine here, and the red wine will flow even more. Whereupon Marcus and I will drunkenly agree to cook for Rachel at Christmas. We will then say our fond farewells to her, and then we will not see each other until Christmas Eve. For now though, Merryl and I are savouring this time we spend together. I look up from my reverie, momentarily lost in thought, and into mesmerisingly blue-green eyes. I open my mouth to speak...

One drink turned out to be several. So we rang Marcus and asked him if he wanted to contact Rachel and join us. Which they did. We had a great evening, getting merry and spending time with Rachel as it was our last night in Damascus together until perhaps Christmas. We made plans to see each other over the Christmas period. Then Merryl and I decided to head home whilst Marcus and Rachel went on to do meet some friends and some dancing.

This concludes our month long journey around Syria. I have found this country bewitching and beautiful. I have loved every minute of the time I have spent here. The people are so genuine and friendly. I has utterly changed my outlook on how I will now act toward visitors to my country; wherever this may end up being. The sights to behold here and the experiences to savour I have probably done no justice in my poor attempt to record them in my journal But I hope I have done this wonderful country at least a compliment and offered my gratitude.

Tomorrow we are going to head south: to Jordan and, among others, a place I have wanted to visit ever since I can remember.