Scott and Becky go East

We awoke to a rainy morning. For the first time in days, I finally had energy and wanted to see a little bit of Aleppo. With the rain, the best thing to see was the old Souk (bazaar) since it is covered in many places. We spent a few hours wandering around the various aisles. We bought some honey, spices, and nuts from various vendors, but held back from the many offers to buy scarves and other souvenirs.

In the evening, Roger and Mireille arrived after a wet and cold day of cycling. They have been cycling for three months and have come from Switzerland. With Roger and Mirelle, there are now 4-pairs of touring cyclists at the hotel (us, Wendy and Peter, Katja and Miroslav, and Roger and Mirelle). We make for quite an eclectic group.

As I write this, I am sitting in a lounge listening to Katya play her guitar and sing. She has a beautiful voice. Miroslav (Mirko) and Wendy are playing backgammon and Scott is doing yoga!

Katya is from Slovenia and Mirko is from the Czech Republic. They are cycling with much more gear than us! Mirko tows a trailer that contains their portable jewelry making business, Katja’s guitar and various other things. When their money gets low, they make jewelry and sell it.

It is all very odd to be sitting in a hotel in Aleppo Syria with a bunch of touring cyclists. We never expected that this was how we would spend our Christmas. We are all here resting up allowing various illnesses to pass, and awaiting a break in the weather.

In the next few days we will need to make a decision as to our next steps on this trip.

Option 1:
Leave the bikes in Aleppo and take buses or trains such that we can visit several sites in Jordan and Syria including: Petra, Palmyra, the Dead Sea, Damascus, and Amman.

Option 2:
Ride the bikes to Banias on the Syrian Mediterranean coast and leave the bikes there for a week or two while going site-seeing (see option 1).

Option 3:
Ride the bikes to Damascus and then Banias and then north up the Mediterranean coast to Turkey. This would mean not getting to Jordan or seeing Palmyra or Petra, but we would see Syria in a very different way.

Part of the decision will be made by Becky’s health. If it takes too long for Becky’s cold to pass, then option 1 will be the only feasible choice.

On Sunday we were invited over to the home of Fadi and Ghina for lunch. We had a great meal and a good visit. Ghina speaks French and Arabic, and the kids (Fawad and Hayim) spoke a little bit of English and French as well as Arabic. So, the conversations were an interesting combination of French, English, and Arabic. We continually are surprised at how much French we are able to comprehend. We haven’t gotten very far with Arabic though.

We had a delicious lunch of tabbouleh, salad, balls of wheat and lamb, pita and chicken. All very yummy! At one point, we mentioned to the kids that one of the places we were going to visit was China. As a result, Hayim (their 10 year old daughter) brought out some chopsticks. Scott gave her a lesson on picking up peanuts.

We had asked if any of the churches in Aleppo were putting on a Christmas concert. Ghina found that church of Saint Michael had a concert that started at 9 pm that night. Unfortunately, the afternoon of visiting tired Becky out, so she had to skip the concert.

Scott walked briskly up to the church arriving 15 minutes early, and was glad he arrived when he did. All the seats were full, and people were milling about at the back. The back corner wasn’t packed full yet, so he found a spot against a prayer stall and next to a font. It turned out to be a good choice – a spot for the music recorder on top of the prayer stall, jacket back in the corner, and a place to stand.

There were a large number of young people (teenagers and twenty-somethings) present, many more than would be at a similar concert in Canada. There were many older people as well, but the median age was decades younger than a similar concert in Canada.

We didn’t have any idea what kind of music to expect, perhaps traditional Syrian Christian music? The performance turned out to be by the Chorale of Saint Francis of Assisi a ~25 voice choir, and mostly English and French music and carols. The conductor was Georges Baly, who seemed to have a strong French background. He was intrigued by some of their pronunciation choices, especially the “deh” for “the”, and was reminded that being precise in foreign language pronunciation while singing is important. A native speaker will notice, and it can be quite jarring at times. A good point to remember when performing again. They sang “The First Noel”, but “born is the king of Israel” was changed to “born is the king of Bethlehem” – perhaps some self-censorship by the choir, since Syria strongly rejects recognition of Israel as a country?  One very interesting Christmas piece we aren’t familiar with was Ire A Santiago.  Does anyone know this piece?

In any case, he really enjoyed the concert, and it was great fun to sing along with the Alleluia chorus from Handel’s Messiah (even though no-one else was). When we get back, Scott will definitely join the sing-along Messiah at Christmas in Ottawa.

After a fitful night, Becky’s cough was not getting any better. We decided to ask for Fadi’s [1] assistance with visiting a doctor. He had mentioned last night that his cousin Bassam was a Pharmacist at a hospital, and spoke excellent English. Ten minutes after our request, Fadi was at our doorstep to whisk us away to see the doctor. He drove us to the local Christian hospital. Upon arrival, we met Bassam briefly and were again whisked into the empty emergency room to see the doctor. We continue to be amazed and heartened by the culture of openness and helpfulness from people we meet in Syria.

An hour and 1150 SYP ($30 CAD) later, Becky saw a doctor, had an x-ray, and inhaled a nebulizer (some asthma drugs infused in steam). Doctor Mahmoud validated that she does not have an infection and the nebulizer seems to have gotten the worst of the coughing under control. The doctor’s prognosis was allergic bronchitis. With the strong asthma medication, and some more rest, the cough should repair itself soon.

The doctor spoke good English – he explained that he spoke good medical English but not so good social English. The hospital itself was clean (the nebulizer mask was packaged in a sterile bag and it left with us, so Becky could use it with the second dose). What was odd was that people were smoking in the hallways – although not the treatment rooms. When we were waiting for the x-ray results, the doctor had us wait in the treatment room because the air was better – it was also warmer as the hallways are not heated.

With Becky feeling much better and able to take a deep breath without coughing, we took a taxi back to the area of our hotel. Rather than going directly to the hotel, we went to the Sheraton to check out the breakfast buffet. We had heard that it was good, so we decided to splurge on a good breakfast. We stuffed ourselves with a variety of western and local food. Becky was especially happy to have a good and large cup of brewed coffee while Scott enjoyed trying some of the local foods that he did not feel comfortable trying on the streets. (There are some cheeses which look yummy, but they are offered in unwrapped chunks and handled by the purchasers – probably fine but after our experience with stomach ills in Turkey we’re trying to be much more careful). Unfortunately, we arrived rather late (at 10:30) and the buffet ended at 11 am. We had hoped to laze around for a couple of hours enjoying the different foods and getting our money’s worth (it cost 1500 Syrian Pounds for the two of us, about $45 CAD). We were the last people to leave the restaurant after much of it had been cleaned up at 11:45.

After all the morning excitement we went back to the hotel for an afternoon nap and shower. We asked to have the hot water turned on, and not two minutes later the power went out – oh well, such is life in Aleppo this winter. Our showers had to wait until the power returned a couple hours later.

Before supper, Becky was feeling up for a short walk, so we decided to check out the Old Souk (bazaar). The old bazaar in Aleppo is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage site and immediately we could see why. It was clearly a working souk, with shops dedicated to thread, bolts of cloth and even raw wool and raw cotton. On one of the streets there was even a loaded donkey doing deliveries! Overall it felt much more authentic than the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. We saw only a fraction of the streets, so we’ll definitely go back. We were there late in the day, so we did not receive too much hassle from the touts, but there were two memorable ones.

Merchant says: “Do you want to spend your money in my store?”
Scott says: “No thank-you”
Merchant says sadly: “No one does.”

Another merchant with great English talked to us for a bit. He was selling the nice soft pashmira scarves – Becky had mentioned to Scott earlier that she wanted to pick up one or two and send them home. So, we looked at the scarves and foolishly asked how much they were. We had planned on walking away and not buying anything at this point in time, but well … his price started at 750 SYP but after several attempts to walk away and say later, the price was reduced to 400 SP (about $13 CAD) and we walked away with a beautiful new scarf for Becky. When we asked Fadi later, he said 400 SYP was about twice what a local would pay, so we think we did pretty well! We have heard from other travelers who feel they should pay local prices and get frustrated when they can’t bargain the price down as much. We figure if we can get the price down to where we’re paying a reasonable price, we’re doing OK. After all, we’re the ones who are fortunate enough to be able to travel around the world – if we pay a little more for things, that’s OK.

[1] Fadi is Scott’s friend Ghanam’s brother-in-law who lives in Aleppo. Ghanem put us in touch with various people when we told him we were heading to Syria, which has been wonderful so far!

25 km, 1.5 hours

Last night was cold! We were able to get warm enough wearing our wool tights and shirts and bundling into our sleeping bags – but at various times in the night we each awoke to cold feet and other body parts. We definitely need to get a warmer liner or outer blanket if we are going to camp out here. In the morning, when Becky got up to take pictures of the frost on our tents, the temperature on her bike computer read -4 degrees C. And this was after it had warmed up a bit! Brrrr.. Despite the cold, we do enjoy camping.

Fortunately, the sun came up and the temperature rose quickly. No one had come to visit us in the night. Although we are sure we were seen, we were left to camp in peace. This also meant that we did not need to rush in the morning. We took our time getting warmed up, having breakfast, and allowing the tent to dry before packing it up. Becky even did yoga!

Our ride into Aleppo was not difficult, but Becky was struggling. The cold that had been plaguing her throughout most of Turkey had come back with a vengeance. Over the last couple of days camping, adrenaline had kept the worst of it at bay, but now that we were entering the city and a place of comfort, she was tiring much sooner than she would have liked.

Drivers in Syria are more aggressive than in Turkey, but they are still accustomed to slow moving vehicles on the road, and in general left us lots of room. This was even on the motorway – cloverleafs, three lanes in each direction, but a nice wide shoulder.

We made it into Aleppo, and thanks to Friedel and Andrew, we did not need to do much research to find a comfortable place to stay. We are staying at the Hotel Al-Gawaher. Wendy and Becky went in to see the rooms and negotiate a price. We were originally quoted 800 SP per night, but asked for 750 SP, at which point Ahmed (the manager) said, I like cyclists so how about 700 SP! That was the most unusual negotiation Becky has ever experienced. Clearly we hadn’t started low enough.

Hotel Al-Gawaher is friendly, safe, clean, has heat and hot water, and has a gas hot plate so we can cook our own meals. It is a perfect place to sit tight and recover from our colds. Our plan is to be here at least 5 nights, and likely week or so. We will stay until our colds clear up or we feel a burning need to move on.

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42 km, 3.5 hours

Bright and early on Tuesday morning, Becky and Peter were the first to get up. Becky was happy to discover that getting out of the tent in the morning was not nearly as painful as she thought it would be. Even by 6:30 am, it had warmed up a little from the nighttime cold. With the light of day, and an nice hot cup of coffee all was right for the day.

Last night, we had been invited over to the restaurant for breakfast by one of the drivers. After we packed up our gear, we rode over to the restaurant. Unfortunately, the driver that invited us was nowhere to be seen. We were offered chai, but after 30 minutes there was no sign of breakfast. Eventually, we decided to move outside into the warm sun and make our own breakfasts.

After breakfast, we had a short 3 km ride to the Syrian border. Leaving Turkey was pretty easy. We stopped at two checkpoints, first a police checkpoint to ensure we were not wanted for anything in Turkey, and a second to have our passports stamped.

The ride through no-mans-land was beautiful. The hills were very rocky. There were many sleeper tour buses returning to Turkey – presumably tour groups returning from the annual Hajj to Mecca in Saudi Arabia. We received many smiles, chuckles, and cheers as we rode by on our loaded bicycles. At one point, there was a sign saying Goodbye from Turkey. We did take a few pictures in no-mans-land, but Becky was totally nervous about it. She gave Scott the camera, and a few snapshots were taken. Peter and Wendy took many more photos. In the end, this didn’t cause any problems.

The process for getting our passport stamped into Syria is a bit chaotic. There were very few signs and everyone crowded up to the windows – no one was queuing. Someone who spoke English pointed out to Peter where he and Wendy needed to go to get their visas. Since Scott and I had visas already, all we needed was a stamp. It soon became apparent that if you wanted to get your passport processed in a timely fashion, you needed to elbow your way to the front and present your passport to the official when he was looked up from the computer – which is exactly what Becky did. We seemed to cause a little confusion with the border folks, as we had visas already and they were accustomed to processing visas that were obtained at the border. Our passports were soon shuffled to a different person – who was stationed at the empty line for Arab nationals. Becky followed the passports as they were processed and answered a few questions. The entire time, Scott stayed with the bikes. Soon enough both passports were stamped – without Scott ever appearing to the official!

Once Wendy and Peter had their visas and stamps, we proceeded to the next security check. Here a guard asked what was in a few of our panniers and took a very peripheral look in a few of them. Within about 2 minutes, we were allowed to pass through. At the final gate, a guard validated that we had stamps in our passport, and then signaled us through. We had cleared customs and were riding in Syria.

We stopped at the first town to change some money and pick up some food for dinner. Since it was already after 11:30, we did not anticipate riding all the way into Aleppo on today. Riding into a big city is always best done earlier in the day, when you are not too tired.

We stopped at a shop in the first town and asked about changing Turkish money. The person running the store was happy to change money for us, and gave us a pretty reasonable rate (28 Syrian Pounds to the Lira – we knew the exchange rate was somewhere around 30 pounds to the Lira). We had been told by the tourist information guy at the border that we would not be able to change Turkish Lira anywhere except at the border, and his “friend” would give us 20 Pounds to the Lira! After changing a few pounds, the folks at the store offered us a wonderful cup of Syrian coffee.

Looking around, it was very clear we were no longer in Turkey. Syria is not as developed as Turkey and it looks much more like a developing nation rather than a modern nation. There were several garbage bins around the town that were burning. We guessed that if the bins were burning, there was no need for collection. We were to see more burning garbage bins, and massive amounts of litter by the roadside throughout our days ride.

With food for lunch and another night of camping we were soon on our way. As we rode through the countryside we enjoyed the changing views.

As lunch time approached, we were looking for a place to stop. We came upon a town (much larger than the border town, but not really a city). As we rode through, we were gawked at by many people. Several smiled and said hello, or Marhaba, but many just stared. There was clearly no place to stop and eat. If we did stop, we would be swarmed by people. It did not take long for some teenagers (or young adult) males on their overloaded and underpowered motor scooter to ride up beside us and try to make conversation. This was amusing at first, but it did not take too long before it became obnoxious. We kept riding, in hopes that they would get bored and move on. Eventually, after we thought we had lost them, we saw a derelict building and a road and pulled over. Wendy and Peter succeeded in getting behind the building for a shelter for lunch, Scott and Becky got found by the obnoxious males on motorcycles. They guys wanted a picture. We figured if we obliged, they would go away. Besides, we did not want to lead them to where Peter and Wendy were sheltered. They jumped off the bike and got a picture with Scott, then they came over to Becky. One of them put his arm around her, and then started to kiss her on the cheek – that was going too far – especially for Syria. Scott grabbed his ear and gave him a cuff in the head to indicate that it was not appropriate behavior. He appeared apologetic, and they eventually got on their bikes and moved on.

That evening, as we sat in our cold tent, we reflected upon the incident. We will need to be more conservative and careful in our greetings, especially when we are being greeted by young males on motorcycles. All our other interactions in Syria have been positive, so this was likely just a case of some bad apples. We have heard from other travelers that satellite television has given some people in the Middle East a very warped perspective of Western sexuality. Either way, we will be more careful to draw the line much sooner. And Becky will try not to smile or make eye contact with young men on motorcycles.

As late afternoon approached, we began the lookout for a place to camp. Both Peter and Becky spotted an olive grove that was protected by a stone fence. There were a couple of open arches that allowed entrance to the groves, and when we did a quick ride by, the land inside seemed pretty flat. After picking up water (we find with the cold that we use about 5-7 L of water wild camping), we headed back to the grove to stake it out for the night. It turned out to be a perfect camping spot, protected from sight and not far of the road. Construction workers were doing some road work just outside the area, and we waved to them on the way in, but they didn’t come to bother us.

As night fell, we climbed into our tents and they had already began to frost over.

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48 km, 3.5 hr

We decided to team up with Wendy and Peter for our ride between Antakya and Aleppo. From our various discussions, it appears that we move at about the same speed (that is in km per day), and they were willing to take the ride to Aleppo slowly to account for our time off the bicycles. This is the first time since our ride into Trois Rivieres that we have ridden with other cyclists. We were looking forward to the company.

Our ride from Antakya to Aleppo began late in the morning. Since we did not wish to cross the border today, we only needed to ride for a few hours. Our plan was to camp one night, get up early the next morning, cross the border and ride into Aleppo. We were looking forward to cycling and camping again, but Becky was afraid that it might be too cold. With the early darkness, the nights are very long.

Once we were on the bikes, it did not take long to receive our first offering of Chai (tea). Since we were eager to get on the road, we respectfully declined that offer and a couple of others that happened while we were riding. When we stopped at a gas station to get fuel for Peter and Wendy’s stove, we were delighted to accept the chai that was offered. It did not take long for us to see the attraction of riding around Turkey with a fully loaded bike!

At about 1 pm, we were looking for a place to stop for lunch. Becky was starving and in need of something to eat. She noticed a road with a couple of nice cement blocks for leaning bikes at the bottom of a big hill, so we stopped. With a quick look around, we noticed that the land on both sides was military. Becky grabbed a quick chocolate bar, and even before she could finish eating it a person in military uniform carrying a large gun told us to go – we could not stop there. With the energy from the chocolate bar, we climbed the first big hill of the day, which brought us to the town of Reyhanli.

We had heard of a hotel in Reyhanli and decided to check it out, just in case we could not find a place to camp – with all the military around, wild camping would not be easy. We looked into the hotel, but it was a real dump. It would do if we couldn’t find anything else, but we still had an hour and a half of daylight left, so we decided to continue down the road looking for other options.

After another 5 km, we saw a place where transport trucks were parked with a restaurant. We stopped on the side of the road to converse. Within about 30 seconds we heard whistling and were being motioned to move along from someone in a military lookout tower on the other side of the road. We quickly turned into the transport truck terminal. Wendy and Peter had a note in Turkish asking if we could camp on the land there. The drivers were very friendly and welcomed us. They said we could camp anywhere within their large compound. They also invited us for tea and offered us use of their shower.

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After a tea, as the sun was beginning to set, we found a good place and setup our tents. As we were enjoying a warm drink at our campsite, one of the drivers came over with his cell phone. Wendy and Scott had an opportunity to speak to his 13 year old daughter on the phone. Her English was not bad, but the connection was poor, so it wasn’t much of a conversation.

After supper, Wendy, Scott, and Becky went to the restaurant for a cup of tea and a brief visit with the drivers. The news was on, so we were able to watch as a journalist from Iraq throw a pair of shoes at George Bush. Showing the soles of your shoes is very rude in this area of the world, so this was intended as a significant insult. A comparison was drawn between today and five years ago, when the head of the giant Saddam statue in Bagdhad was dragged through the street and beaten with shoes. Wendy had her trusty Turkish-English dictionary so we were able to ask a few questions about driving trucks in Turkey and the drivers were able to ask us questions about us and our trip. The dictionary was a handy tool and allowed us to have a much more meaningful conversation than we would have had without it. We plan on finding a similar small dictionary for Arabic when we get to Syria.

By 8 pm, we were all tucked into our sleeping bags. It was too cold for reading, so we were soon fast asleep.

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