Beirut, Damascusm, Amman

Tuesday, January 22^nd

I got up and said good-bye to Marcus this morning. Our paths had been entwined for much longer than we had anticipated - fourth months had flown by - and it was a bit of a jolt to be parting. I was impressed, but not surprised, of the recent turn of events for him in Lebanon. I am a hopeless romantic at heart and I wished him all the best. We had planned to meet again in south west India in February. But for now, I had somewhere I was dying to visit.

Marcus saw me off at Doura. It was weird saying goodbye, but I knew we’d see each other soon enough. I got to the Charles Helou bus station and jumped into a shared servise to Damascus. I could have got a transit straight to Amman. But I wanted to stop in the big D one more tine: to say goodbye to Rach and to pick up my Christmas present from M!

My servise turned out to be from the 1950s, as was the driver. I think it was his first car, and I suspected he was also the first owner. Not only but also it filled up with three women armed with lots and lots of luggage. The lady in the front spoke a little English and chain smoked. The two ladies that got into the back with me were rather rotund and had more bags than a super-size box of PG tips. A bit of a squeeze ensued. It was going to be a long journey. That was ok though because just after we left – which by the way took over two hours – we hit a storm. A big storm. A big snow and ice storm. It had swept in from the North East and hammered down across the Jebel Assyrian mountains. We crawled to the border and I completed my exit visa. After that things got a little dicey. The main highway turned into a skating rink and the inside back seat of the car turned into a bouncy castle. Our driver was reduced to 20 kmph. Cars on either side of us were completely losing control, and thus losing traction. Two vehicles collided in front of us. A jack-knifed lorry loomed from nowhere into our headlights from out of the blizzard. It was time to get off the main road.

We finally got in Damascus at 8pm. The usual 2 hour journey had taken 6 hours. I had arranged to meet Rach but I was a bit late. I got dropped off in Souk Saroujah. The street was still a mess. The hotel was in black-out but the phone still worked. I checked in to an empty dorm and headed out into a winter wonderland. The Damascenes were loving it. The taxi driver was telling me earlier there hadn’t been snow like this for over 10 years. As I walked up to meet Rach I could see the evidence of this. Everybody was in the streets. Snow-ball fights were spontaneously erupting all over the place. People were even building snowmen in the middle of the road. I saw two middle-aged business men chucking snow balls at a traffic police-man. One caught him squarely on the back. He turned round and waggled an admonishing finger at them but he was laughing as he did so. What is it about snow that makes us so playful and childlike? It is a universal panacea that cures us of the affliction of being serious!

I stopped by Rach’s flat to check it out and pick up my present that had arrived from the UK. It turned out to be a gorgeous watch. With a self-maintaining internal battery that draws power from ergonomic body movements. Thank you, M! xxx. Rach and I did a number of takes of me opening and receiving it for the camera. I still need to get the pics from her from that. Her flat was looking lovely and I was glad to see the plant Marcus and I had bought her was sitting in the corner in the large sitting room. I was really impressed with the place and what she had done with it – and it no longer smelled of paraffin. Bonus!!

Rach and I headed out to the French café round from her and had a lovely evening chatting away amidst crepes and espressos. It was the fourth good-bye of a good friend in a week. So much for my quick exit theory! I was getting a little better at it though. Hopefully, maybe, I would see her in the summer – in the UK.

El-Haremein was freezing when I got back, but at least the power was on. I curled up in my thermals and was asleep in minutes

Wednesday 23^{rd -} Friday 25th

Beirut Amman.

Back in San Maria for the last time. I was an old hand at this now. It was good to see Charlie, though, and he kept me company for a while, whilst my servise filled up. I promised him I’d try and get a picture to him from the snaps Marcus had taken. Just how I was planning to achieve that I hadn't quite worked out just then, however it was off to Amman once again.

I arrived in good time and checked into the Palace hotel. I was an regular at this place now and it was good to be back among friendly faces. I checked in feeling a little strange. Strange soon gave way to being very ill and I spent the next two days laid up in bed until I managed to get up 36 hours later and check my mail. It turned out the vomiting flu virus from the UK had made its way to Lebanon and Marcus and Natalie had also fallen foul of it. I must have been exposed to it just as I left, but I was a veteran at being bloody ill by this point. I was double 'ard. So I weathered it pretty well - mainly by curling up in a ball and winging to myself like a wuss. By Friday morning, though, I would be ready to travel again.

I woke up early on said Friday and decided it was time to take stock of myself and my possessions. I had left the UK some months before with an impressive array of things. Things that fell into five distinct categories: Things I couldn’t do without. Things I was never going to use. Things I was going to use but not just yet. Things I had when I left but had been broken lost or had been stolen. Things I wished I’d bought but never got round to it. (ok the last two categories, upon reflection, represent things that I do not physically possess - but in a strange sense, I am still travelling with them – or I am yet to).

So to just briefly define the categories:

Things I couldn’t do without consist of:

my passport, my fleece, my walking boots, my medication (which consisted of Ibuprofen, Nofrafglaxicin, Paracetamol, Tinadezol, Anti-Histamine, Viagra (thanks Ray!) my camera (which had subsequently been moved into category five) my mp3 player (again category five) my Pashmini scarf (sigh, category five again), my silk sheet cover, and my waterproof jacket.

Things I was never going to use:

My copy of Charles Dickens Bleak House (I had swapped it the first time I was in Amman and had been making excuses not to read it ever since), my camera charger (see above although, in all fairness, a causal dependency), my Viagra (These were a parting present from a friend, although I appreciated the gesture I had yet to find a use for these. I suspected I could maybe make use of them on very cold winter’s nights or perhaps on safari when I had to erect a makeshift tent or a bivouac of some description. They were afore-mentioned in category one, but on principal I though that they should fall into this category), my ripped T-shirt, and my sterilised medi-kit (well maybe I am tempting fate, however I just couldn’t see me sticking a hypo into my veins anytime soon), my pen-knife (I had to send it home at

Luton as it was in my hand-luggage).

Things I was going to use but not just yet:

My thermals (ok I had just recently broken these bad-boys out), my mosquito net, my swimming gear, my flip-flops with the bottle openers on the sole (my thanks the QA girls at CSW for those!), my travel chess and back-gammon set (thanks Karlos), my surround sound headphones (see MP3 player category five – ok this could be a causal dependency but I never used the tarnating things maybe these should actually fall into category two, then come to think of it, why hadn't the Viagra gone here? I mean I am nearly thirty five...).

Things I had when I left but had been broken lost or had been stolen:

My camera (stolen in Damascus), my first set of glasses (broken in Goreme), my pashmini scarf (left in Sidon, Lebanon), my mp3 player (broken 3 weeks after leaving the UK! That was particularly gutting!), my alarm clock (I left it at home) my mosquito net fixtures. (ermm.. god only knows when and where that went), my head-torch (lost in Lebanon somewhere) my white T-Shirt (where on earth did that go?) etc etc…

Things I wished I’d brought but never got round to it:

A laptop, a kitchen sink, a large kipper to slap offending people with, a I AM ASLEEP SO BE QUIET sign in all languages, a watch, a food sterilisation kit, a water purification kit, a sleeping bag, a lighter, a spare torch, a spare mp3 player… hmmm this could go on.

Actually there is one more category which is: things I would never have thought of bringing that I would have never have thought I needed but I am glad I had which consists of one object so far and that is:

A Rubik’s Cube (a present from my friend Dave – (cheers funkington! It has been much fun) actually I thought a guy I'd met in Turkey walked off with it under my nose when we said good-bye. It turns out he'd bought himself one because he liked mine so much. So it nearly fell into category two).

This in turn also creates a dependency under category one which is: The Rubik Cube seven step solution guide. This has now, given the newly created seventh category, become an absolute category. I guess thinking about it I could also add categories such as: Things I am glad I did not bring; things I did not initially think of but I am having sent to me; Things I pretend I didn’t really want as presents when I left, but inside I am seething about because I could have got them myself instead of hoping other people would; things I could have gotten in a smaller size; and of course things I could have bought in an edible format. The list of ways to categorise is endless.

Anyways Friday brought with me new strength and I was ready to get up and get moving. I had just finished reading Robert Fisk’s harrowing chronological account of the civil war in Lebanon. So in the spirit of changing to something more upbeat and positive I quickly nipped up to Books@cafe to pick up the even bigger book by the same author: The Great War of Civilization. Then it was time to visit Israel.