November 7, 1999
Behind Syria's Stony Facade
By DOUGLAS JEHL
From crowded urban souks to Crusader fortresses to a desert oasis, a couple discovers the wonders of an ancient land
een from the outside, Syria has a
rough veneer. Few Americans
think of it as a tourist destination, scared off, perhaps, by its
less than savory image: for
years, Syria has been a member of the State
Department's terrorism list. But pass
through its doors, wander its souks, explore
its back roads, and Syria turns out to be
something very different.
| 
Katherine Abdulahad Hansen |
Muslim women and a child are dwarfed by the Roman columns in Palmyra, Syria.
|
In many ways, Syria is like an old Damascene home, with walls that give way to an
inviting courtyard. In four years of living in
the Middle East, in fact, I have found traveling in Syria to be the most pleasant single
surprise. It is a land of stunning variety -- of
geography, culture and above all, of the
relics left by those who over many centuries
have battled for its control. Nowhere else in
the region, perhaps nowhere else at all, can
a visitor leap so effortlessly from one era to
another -- from Roman ruins to Crusader
castles, from Mameluke mosques to Christian churches, from Ottoman caravanseries
to primitive, creaking water wheels.
Today, Syria's two major centers, Damascus and Aleppo, are thriving, noisy metropolises. But at their hearts lie ancient
covered markets, with serpentine alleyways, where a visitor can begin to appreciate the two places' rival claims to being the
oldest continuously inhabited city.
It must be said that Syria is not always an
easy place to travel. Although it is trying
hard to promote tourism, the country still
lacks truly modern highways and is short of
first-class hotels. Obtaining a visa can be
cumbersome; all applications are closely
scrutinized, and because Syria remains
technically at war with Israel, would-be
travelers who have an Israeli stamp in their
passport are bound to be turned away.
But anyone with a taste for the exotic and
the old-fashioned will find Syria a wonderful
antidote to the monotony brought on by
globalization. With an isolation that is in
part self-imposed, Syria is still a country
without A.T.M.'s, mobile phones and credit
cards of its own. Europeans, particularly
the French, have begun to discover Syria,
often in tour groups. Even so, it is not
unusual to find major sites all but empty.
I had visited Damascus many times, and
twice before had journeyed well outside the
capital -- to the fortified storybook castle
known as Crac des Chevaliers, a marvel of
medieval engineering, and to the ancient
city of Palmyra, where Roman tombs, temples and pillars are spread out across a
stark desert. But it was not until last spring,
when my wife, Lisa, and I decided to venture
out on a four-day trip, that I began to learn
just how much Syria was hiding.
With a hired car and driver, we moved in
a kind of figure 8, heading first from Damascus north toward Aleppo, through the town
of Hama -- famous for its water wheels but
also infamous for a 1982 massacre of at
least 10,000.
We picnicked in the Roman
ruins of Apamea, on green hills overlooking
the Orontes Valley, where cows peacefully
grazed among the Corinthian columns. In
Aleppo's Armenian Quarter, we discovered
old homes newly transformed into small
hotels or restaurants where the cuisine,
including salads of fresh herbs and salty
cheese, was some of the most memorable I
have tasted in the Middle East.
From Aleppo, we headed northwest about
a half-hour to the remains of the remarkable St. Simeon Stylites Church. Set amid
rolling, rocky countryside, it was built in
tribute to the fifth-century ascetic who spent
much of his life there, on a platform atop a
stone column. (Most of the column has been
chipped away by pilgrims over the centuries, but a stump still remains.) Then, we
curved to the southwest, passing through
the rugged coastal mountains toward the
Mediterranean coast by way of Qal'at Saladin, the remote Crusader fortress that T. E.
Lawrence called "the most sensational
thing in castlebuilding I have ever seen."
Near the port city of Latakia, we toured
the Bronze Age city of Ugarit, where evidence of the world's first cuneiform alphabet was discovered on a terra-cotta tablet.
Then we swung south and east, past Crac
des Chevaliers, splendid on the lush coastal
hillsides, and across the Syrian desert to the
date-palm oasis where Palmyra lies, before
returning to Damascus.
We wished we had had more time. Still,
accustomed to the numbing distances and
inefficiencies that are often part of travel in
the Middle East, we felt fortunate; in Syria,
we discovered, much can be accomplished
in a relatively short time.
We made our arrangements only after
arriving in Damascus, where any trip to
Syria should start. We had been tempted to
rent a car and drive, but opted against it.
Roads in Syria are not well marked, even on
major highways, and smaller tourist destinations can be difficult to find. In parts of
Damascus and Aleppo, the traffic can be
atrocious and parking almost nonexistent.
Even English-language signs can be hard to
decipher: "Make lightspeed," one of them
cautioned; "A place full of inhabitants" was
another.
| 
Courtney Kealy for The New York Times |
The remains of the Church of St. Simeon Stylites, about 20 miles northwest of Aleppo, honors a fifth-century ascetic.
|
For many travelers, a package tour
might be a better option. But we were glad
to have the freedom to map out our own
route and the flexibility to improvise.
In the back streets of Hama, we happened
across a parade of schoolchildren, marching through the streets and waving tiny
flags as they chanted homage to Hafez al-Assad, who has been Syria's leader for
nearly 30 years. It was a holiday, it turned
out -- the anniversary of Mr. Assad's Baath
Party.
Later, back on the main highway, we
marveled at the villagers who seemed to
have gathered at every exit, all in festive
dress, the scene enlivened by the music of
drums and traditional instruments. It was a
modern variation of an old Muslim tradition
-- a welcome for neighbors returning home
from a pilgrimmage to Mecca.
Arriving at the Damascus Airport can
confirm old prejudices. The airport has
been renovated, but the first impression is
the one left by surly soldiers who thumb
through passports looking for any evidence
of an Israeli stamp. On the walls are posters
of Mr. Assad, which are ubiquitous in the
capital. On the streets, drivers are eerily
obedient. Much of the construction is modern and unremarkable. Rising behind the
city are the Anti-Lebanon Mountains, but
these also convey a certain bleakness; barren of vegetation, they are capped, on one
hilltop, by Mr. Assad's severe and monumental presidential palace.
But plunge into Old Damascus on foot,
and the senses ignite. Enter through the
Hamidiyyah souk, and you may be swept
like the tide through this bazaar, past merchants offering tawdry modern wares and
others peddling treasures like the brocade
cloth that bears the city's name.
Those who can resist shopping, at least at
first, should wade farther, to the triumphal
arch that marks the remains of the Temple
of Jupiter, on a site that has housed sacred
enclosures for more than 3,000 years. The
arch guards the gate to the majestic Umayyad Mosque, one of the most impressive in
the Middle East, having survived more than
1,200 years of invasions, earthquakes, fires
and Mongol sackings. I like to wander
through the great courtyard, where an octagonal treasury raised above the ground
was used beginning in the 14th century to
keep public funds.
Another place to wander is the Street
Called Straight, a major thoroughfare since
Hellenistic times, and featured in biblical
tales of St. Paul's conversion to Christianity.
Straight Street also marks the best route to
the Bab Sharqi, at the old city's eastern
edge, in a quarter that has a cluster of good
restaurants. It is here that old Damascene
houses may be most easily glimpsed, along
the street leading to the Chapel of St.
Ananias, on a site where Paul reputedly took
shelter. Visitors are free to peer into many
courtyards, and in some houses, small shops
offer Damascus's most famous wares, including the brocade and inlaid wooden boxes.
There is much more to see in old Damascus -- museums, mosques, churches -- and
more shopping, at prices that can be staggeringly good (but be sure to bargain). But
with its three million people, the capital can
also sometimes feel stifling, and after three
days we were glad to get on the road,
namely the Damascus-Aleppo highway,
which took us into Syria's midsection, watered by clouds that blow through a gap in
what are otherwise impenetrable coastal
mountains.
Our driver, Mohammed, was a friendly,
multilingual college graduate in his 30's
who, like many young Syrians, had had little
luck in lining up more lucrative work. We
had chosen not to hire a separate guide, and
had brought good guidebooks, most notably
Ross Burns's "Monuments of Syria" (London: I. B. Taurus, $24.50), which we found
invaluable. At most sites, only limited information is available in English, even though
the Syrian government charges entry fees
that average about $6.
Our first stop, Hama, lies on the Orontes
River, about two hours north of Damascus.
Those who follow the politics of the Middle
East may remember the city for the killing
that took place there in 1982, when Mr.
Assad sent his army into the city to suppress an uprising by the outlawed Muslim
Brotherhood. The government later flattened much of the large area where the
fighting took place, but as we wandered
through the narrow alleys near the local
museum, we found walls still pockmarked
with innumerable bullet holes from house-to-house fighting.
When I asked one man what had happened there, he jerked a finger across his
neck. That lent a somber mood to our morning. But not in Hama, nor anywhere else in
Syria, did I feel a sense of threat. The Syrian
government's record is far from clean when
it comes to terrorism, but even the State
Department, perhaps its biggest critic, says
the government has not been tied to an act
of terrorism since 1986. Since the massacre
at Hama, Mr. Assad has kept a tight lid on
law breaking, making the streets of Syria
safer than those of most cities.
These days, as for centuries, the sound of
Hama is the creaking of water wheels --
some as large as 65 feet across -- being
turned slowly by the river's flow. These
nurias, the oldest thought to date from 1700,
still lift the water and send it flowing into
nearby fields.
We pushed on, first to the Roman ruins at
Apamea, another 90 minutes or so away,
along a narrow road that wound through
lush countryside. The ancient city, founded
in the fifth century B.C. had a long and
glorious history, its visitors including Cleopatra and Marc Antony. Its central avenue,
more than a mile long, was lined by 1,200
columns, some 200 of which have been
uprighted again. We saw no more than a
dozen other tourists in two hours there, and
were free to roam. In the distance to the
west, fog-capped coastal mountains seemed
to plunge almost vertically into the green
Orontes Valley.
Aleppo, two hours north, was disappointing at first, crowded with cars and noisy
with the honking of horns. But a glimpse of
the Citadel, an ancient fortress perched high
on a massif at the city's heart, served as a
reminder that this was no ordinary city. And
nearby, in the ancient stone-covered souk, a
maze of alleys crowded with craftsmen,
merchants and donkey carts, we reveled in
finding a market that is utterly authentic.
We had hoped to stay in Beit Wakil, the
nicer of the small new hotels in the renovated old houses in the Armenian Quarter. But
they were booked, so we were relegated to
the Pullman, a mostly shabby place some 15
minutes away. Back in the Armenian Quarter, meals of savory grilled meat, mezzes
and Lebanese wine helped to soothe the
sense of having missed out.
| 
Courtney Kealy for The New York Times |
Roman ruins in ancient Apamea.
|
Among our further stops, one of my favorites was Qal'at Saladin, for its remoteness in
the steep and rugged mountains that divide
Syria's coast from its hinterland. Reached
by a narrow winding roadway, it looks down
toward the sea, isolated not only by two
natural ravines but also by a 60-foot-deep
ditch, gouged into the stone by workers who
left behind a pinnacle of rock to support a
draw bridge. An old Byzantine fortress, it
was taken over by the Crusaders early in
the 12th century. But the Crusaders' stay
was brief; in 1188, the castle was conquered
by the great warrior Saladin as part of a
flurry of conquests that led to the Arab
recovery of Jerusalem.
As for Latakia, the mainly industrial seaport where we spent a night, it was a stop we
could have done without. Still, it provided
easy access to Ugarit, the Bronze Age site a
short drive away, and allowed a chance to
feast on fresh fish from the Mediterranean,
served whole in a waterside restaurant.
By design, we had saved Syria's best-known sites for last, and both Crac des
Chevaliers and Palmyra were worth the
wait. The Crac, set amid green rolling hills,
may be the paragon of castles, the one in the
mind of any child who sets out with a bucket
and a pail. Taken over and improved by the
Knights Hospitaler beginning in 1144, it was
among the last of the Crusader fortresses to
be built in the region and the most formidable, not conquered until the mid-13th century.
During a few hours of wandering, we saw
that the happiest visitors appeared to be the
children, exploring the vast dungeon, stables and towers that offered a commanding
view.
To reach our final stop, Palmyra, required a two-and-a-half hour drive across
the desert, where Bedouin shepherds
watched their herds. On our arrival, the
sight of Roman temples and columns rising
so incongruously from the sands drove
home the role that Palmyra played in its
heyday, some 400 years beginning in the
first century B.C. Made viable by a spring
that still feeds the oasis, the city straddled
the main trading route between the Persian
Gulf and the Mediterranean, as well as the
Silk Road, and the taxes it imposed provided
vast wealth.
Throughout most of the year, the fierceness of the desert sun can make midday
explorations uncomfortable at best, and the
flat light can render even the most impressive of the ruins unremarkable. But palm-shaded courtyards of several outdoor restaurants are good places to take breaks,
while sunset is the time to explore the Arab
castle, atop a steep hill.
On the final morning of our trip, we set
our alarms very early. Soon we were outside, shivering in the darkness, picking and
stumbling our way across the rocky soil
toward shapes we could barely discern. Bit
by bit, the sky began to lighten and the sun's
first pink rays shot across the desert to
illuminate ancient marble and, as it has for
millenniums, bring Palmyra to life
Finding your way through a nation of a hidden treasures
To enter Syria, a visa must be obtained in
advance. Single-entry visas cost $61, by
money order only. Information and applications are available from the Syrian Embassy, 2215 Wyoming Avenue NW, Washington,
D.C. 20008, (202) 232-6313.
Getting Around
| 
Courtney Kealy for The New York Times |
Centuries-old water wheels in Hama still work.
|
Rama Travel and Tourism, Fardoos
Street, Damascus, arranged for the car,
driver and hotels for our trip. A car and
driver for a journey outside Damascus runs
about $100 a day, at the rate of 43 pounds to
the dollar; phone (963-11) 222-7076; fax
(963-11) 224-7243.
Nahas Travel and Tourism, Fardoos
Street, also offers good service and rates;
(963-11) 223-2000; fax (963-11) 223-6002.
Where to Stay
Except where noted, the 10 percent tax on
hotel rooms is not included. All large hotels
accept credit cards, but for flexibility (particularly when shopping), it is a good idea to
carry some cash and traveler's checks.
The Sheraton Damascus Hotel and Towers, on Umayyad Square, with 325 modern,
rooms, is a favorite of business travelers.
Its bars and restaurants attract Syria's
elite. A discounted rate of $130 is usually
available (the standard rate is $205); (963-11) 373-4630, fax (963-11) 224-3607.
A cheaper option is the 80-room Orient
Palace, near the old railway station in al-Hejaz Square. With clean, simple quarters,
this 55-year-old hotel retains some charm. A
room with breakfast and taxes is $38; (963-11) 223-1351, fax (963-11) 221-1512.
In Aleppo, the Pullman, in the University
district, offers 101 small, basic rooms with
tired furnishings, at $83; (963-21) 266-7200,
fax (963-21) 266-7213.
More attractive alternatives are the 16-room Beit Wakil, Sissi Street, al-Jedaideh
Area, (963-21) 221-7169, fax (963-21) 224-7082, and the 14-room Martini, (also called
Dar Zamaria), al-Huttub Street, al-Jedaideh
Area, (963-21) 363-9913, fax (963-21) 363-2333. Both are newly opened in restored Armenian Quarter homes on narrow cobbled
alleys, and feature small but delightful
rooms, Turkish baths and peaceful courtyards. At each, rooms are $100, including
breakfast.
In Latakia, the modern-style Côte d'Azur
de Cham, (963-41) 428-700, fax (963-41) 428-285, just outside the city, is a huge popular
beach resort, with 1,100 rooms. A basic but
pleasant room with a balcony overlooking
the Mediterranean is $133; from October to
April 1, $67. The hotel is operated by Cham
Palace, Syria's largest chain. For reservations in most cities from the United States,
(202) 835-0099, fax (202) 429-0615.
In Palmyra, the well-situated Palmyra
Cham Palace, with 250 rooms, overlooks the
oasis at the edge of the city. Its rooms, overpriced at $180, are unremarkable in décor,
but offer moonlit views of the archaeological site. Reservations from (963-31) 912-230,
fax (963-31) 912-245, or the Cham Palace
American number.
A smaller alternative is Villa Palmyra, a
peaceful, relaxed guest house in town on Gamal Abdel Nasser Street. The 42 rooms cost
$50, including breakfast and taxes; (963-31)
913-600, fax (963-31) 912-554.
Where to Eat
In Damascus, Arabesque, in Medhat Pasha Market, off the Street Called Straight in
the Old City, offers updated versions of Arab
cuisine in pleasant surroundings, including
an outdoor terrace with a view of the city. A
specialty is couscous with lamb, Moroccan
style. Dinner for two, with good Lebanese
wine, is about $38; (963-11) 543-3999, fax
(963-11) 331-2170.
Zeitouna, tucked away in the covered
courtyard of an old Damascene house, on
Zeitouna Street, near Bab Sharqi, offers a
delightful variety of appetizers, or mezze.
Main dishes feature grilled meats.
With
Lebanese wine, dinner for two is about $30;
(963-11) 543-5994, fax (963-11) 543-1324.
In Aleppo, some of the best cooking in the
Middle East can be sampled at Sissi House,
Jedediah Plaza, in the Armenian Quarter. A
dinner for two, with abundant mezze, then
succulent chicken or lamb is about $30, including Lebanese wine; (963-21) 221-9411,
fax (963-21) 221-5700.
Spiro, on Corniche al-Bahr in Latakia, features simply prepared fish and sea food.
Dinner for two, with Lebanese wine, is about
$35; (963-41) 478-238.
What to See
Expect to pay the equivalent of $3 to $6 to
enter any government-run site.
For free exploration, marketplaces and city streets can
be eminently more authentic.
In Damascus, the National Museum, al-Auwatli Street, offers an extraordinary collection of archaeological and historical material. Open Wednesday to Monday, 9 a.m. to
4 p.m., except closed 12:30 to 2 p.m. Friday.
Closed all day Tuesday; (963-11) 221-4855.
Azem Palace, built in the mid-18th century by an Ottoman governor, displays the
best features of Arab and Turkish architecture in a restful setting, with fountains that
cascade into basins of stone. Adjacent to the
Umayyad Mosque, it is now the Museum of
Popular Arts and Tradition. Open Wednesday to Monday 8 a.m. to 4 p.m., except closed
noon to 2 p.m. Friday. Closed all day Tuesday; (963-11) 221-4984.
-- DOUGLAS JEHL
