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Friday 2004-02-13 - Groningen, the Netherlands
The big decision
I’m in Groningen this weekend to see my parents and have a belated new year’s dinner with them. Yesterday evening I brought up the subject of travel: last year they’d offered to pay for whatever trip I wanted to take but due to a load of different adverse circumstances I never got away. When the brochures for the new season started rolling in, my eye was caught by the special Marco Polo trip organized by Koning Aap this year: all the way across Asia, visiting many old Silk Road locations and other places where Marco Polo had been. More than two months to cross the continent West to East, from Damascus to Beijing … not just an exciting prospect by itself but it would also make up for the missed trip of last year.
When I asked Aap people about it at the vacation fair in January, they told me they’d already had quite a few inquiries specifically for this trip, so there was a good chance it would actually take place. So after my arrival this evening I broached the subject with my parents: a “double-length” trip, would they be prepared to pay for maybe half of this one, since I didn’t get to go last year? They’ll pay for all of this one!
Wow. I’m actually going to do this!
Saturday 2004-05-08 - Vienna, Austria
Are we going to stay here?
We arrive a little late in Vienna where we need to change planes, but the gate is right “next door”. The man behind the counter won’t let us through, though: we don’t have a Syrian visa, and he can’t let us board without one, he says. Our tour companion argues with him that we’ll get the visa on arrival in Damascus but it takes ten minutes before she has convinced him it’s OK and he’s prepared to let us through…
Saturday 2004-05-08 - Damascus, Syria
We’re there, but we’re not in yet!
We’re at the airport of Damascus. Three in the afternoon, a slight delay but nothing dramatic. Arranging the group visa on arrival isn’t the problem … the problem is we need someone from the local agency to come pick us up with a letter of invitation — and he isn’t there. Marie Josee, our tour companion, can’t go outside to see if he’s there, and he can’t know we’re here if he’s waiting outside. Ultimately, she manages to call him: he’s in the car on the way to the airport (he says). Finally, he arrives (it’s quite a way to the airport): he had our old travel scheme (arrival late at night), not the new scheme with arrival in the afternoon.
While waiting, we amuse ourselves looking at other passengers arriving. The variety is enormous, from plain-looking demurely-dressed ordinary people, to very modern-looking young people in tight-fitting fashionable clothes, to chique-looking Arab businessmen in full regalia. As we will find out later, they afford us a preview of the kaleidoscopic diversity seen on the streets of Damascus.
Finally, after three hours, we’re in. Then we find our luggage and one of our suitcases has been forced open. It’s not clear if anything’s missing, but the suitcase itself is damaged. More waiting time, to get a declaration; they can look later whether anything is actually missing. Half an hour’s ride to the city, and then we finally arrive in our hotel where we’re welcomed with a nice cup of tea.
Sunday 2004-05-09 - Damascus, Syria
Relaxing in the mosque
After a nice breakfast in the hotel we (two travel mates and me) first walk to Martyr’s Square where there is a money changer’s office — which turns out to be closed. We decide to go to the old city first, after the “advance” we got last night we still have enough cash for a drink and entrance into the Mosque. When we cross the street, a young man coming from the other side nods at us, and says: “Welcome!” — a nice sign of how friendly people are here in Damascus.
The old town isn’t far, and we get in at the Souk entrance; the Souk al-Hamidiyeh reminds me of the big bazaar in Istanbul, with its high vaulted streets, and endless shops along them. When we get out at the other end, skipping all the side streets for now, we see the Umayadd Mosque before us, through remnants of what looks like an old Greek temple, Greek architecture, anyway. Entrance to the Mosque is 50 Syrian pounds, and us women get a hooded robe (freshly washed and ironed) loaned to us for free. We visit the shrine first; people get very emotional there, moan, and even cry. We see some drying their tears when they get out, and whole families sitting together on the floor in the front room, eating apples, chatting, relaxing.
When we get to the mosque proper, we find same relaxed atmosphere. The inner plaza is very big, beautiful with lots of marble, and at various places people sit around, resting and enjoying the place. Inside the prayer hall this continues. Everyone mixes (no strict separation between men and women here, families sit together). Near the shrine of Prophet Yahia (St. John the Baptist) a group of women sit together, listening to what a mullah is telling them. A woman walks round and hands out sugared almonds (delicious!); some people try to chat with us. We end up staying here a long time, a wonderful experience. We see many other interesting things today but this is definitely the best.
Everywhere, people are very friendly and helpful. We all agree: this is a very, very nice city to be in — and one to come back to. And a great city to start our 65-day trip across Asia from.
Monday 2004-05-10 - Damascus, Syria
Travel blogging for the first time
We walk via a medressa (with computer-cataloged public library) and another mosque (Shi’ite, all glitter, men and women separated, but within that framework still very relaxed) to the Christian quarter of Damascus where we have a nice early lunch with a cup of yellow lentil soup.
From there we go to the Al-Azem palace where we see the exhibits and have a nice cup of Turkish coffee in the pleasant courtyard. Then we go to Jabri House (Beit Jabri), an 18th-century house, renovated and turned into a restaurant; in the corner of the courtyard is an Internet cafe. We want to try whether we can really email from Syria, since our tour companion had told us that was not possible — but I didn’t quite believe her.
It turns out that the friendly manager of the Jabri House Internet cafe we spoke to yesterday was right — it’s no problem to use email: so for the first time I use my system to email to my travel blog — and it all works! I treat my companions to a round of drinks (freshly pressed juices) in the pleasant courtyard. I’m so happy that it all actually works now!
Old traditions still alive
Behind the Umayadd Mosque there is a pleasant cafe where on some evenings a traditional story teller comes to tell a few stories. We’re lucky: he’s here tonight. Of course we don’t understand a word of what he’s saying but that doesn’t matter. It’s quite amusing to watch and listen to — obviously first the setting of the scene, then the meat of the story, followed by the climax. He’s sitting there with his story book, a red fez on his head, glasses on his nose, a sword he’s gesturing with at times, and every one present is captivated. Of course, if you can understand it’s even funnier: two young men sitting at the window explode in giggles at times and are almost as amusing as the story teller himself. Interesting to note though how it’s not just tourists but also locals who come here to listen to him. It’s a great end to our stay in Damascus.
Tuesday 2004-05-11 - Damascus - Palmyra, Syria
We’re moving!
Today, we really start moving across Asia. Leaving at eight, we first have to get out of the city: now we see how big Damascus, with a population of 3.5 million inhabitants, really is.
When we’re finally out, we’re in the desert. Mostly barren mountains on our left, an almost flat plain on the right. Sparse plants, sometimes little clumps of bright-red poppies along the road side, purple thistles, other flowers that I don’t recognize. Sometimes small flocks of sheep and some goats, with the herder often often seated on the back of a donkey. Some people sleep on the bus — I almost never do and I love desert landscapes! Of course, as is often the case, when we stop for a drink (‘Bagdad Cafe’) the flowers I wanted to take a picture of are nowhere in sight.
Before noon we’re in Palmyra, already seeing some of the temple ruins before we enter.
Thursday 2004-05-13 - Aleppo, Syria
“In my next life I wish to be your hat”
The Syrians have a wonderful gentle kind of humor, of which we had a nice sample before at Krak des Chevaliers: Entrance fee is 150 Syrian pounds for foreigners, 15 for Syrians and 10 for students. After Carla and I paid our 150, Thom followed and said: “I’m Syrian.” “That’s 15 dollars, sir” was the immediate reply.
Today we roam around the very extensive Souk of Aleppo (much nicer than that of Damascus, with many very old vaults over the streets and khans — storage places — and caravanserais); it couldn’t be any closer since our pleasant hotel is right in the middle of the souk. Here we encounter more samples of Syrian humor. Many traders try a little ruse to talk you into their store but it’s all a game and they readily admit it’s just a trick to get you inside: “You have to try something to sell something” one apologizes laughing. What’s amazing is how many Syrians here speak some Dutch, or even have a portrait of our queen in their store: another conversation piece of course to get you inside. Farther on in the main street we chat with a small group of young men; one of them looks at my hat and tells me: “In my next life I wish to be your hat.”
Wednesday 2004-07-07 - Xi’an, China
Relaxed metropole
After our long train ride of yesterday, Carla and I make a late start today with a nice plate of noodles for breakfast at the little restaurant around the corner from the Jie Fang hotel. Then we set out to walk to the center of the old city of Xi’an. For a city of millions (6.62 is what I found), the atmosphere here is surprisingly relaxed, reminding me somewhat of Damascus, our first city on this nine-week trip. Traffic is lively, with a wide variety of public transportation ranging from buses (quite a lot) to little red motorized open carts for two to four passengers, a bit like bike taxis except they’re motorized. But no one actually seems to be in a hurry; people don’t walk fast either, the right strategy in this climate since it’s quite hot here. We haven’t walked 100 meters yet and I like Xi’an already.
Although people do look at us strangers, they don’t stare, obviously used to foreign visitors. Still only a few people approach us to speak English to us; very few actually know enough English for a chat, it seems.
When we arrive at the Bell Tower, marking the very center of the old city, we find it’s in scaffolding and closed for restauration. As an alternative we make a short visit to the huge modern department store at the corner of the square: a nice contrast between ancient and modern China. It’s easy to spend half a day or more here, but we have other plans.
After a short rest with some fruit juice in a sort of food court in the basement we leave super-modern China behind for a while and walk on to the Drum Tower. No scaffolding here but although supposedly the tower is in use again, we see no activity. The tower is also a gate building, marking the entrance to the old muslim quarter of Xi’an.
Along the main street, especially near the Drum Tower, there are many souvenir shops and tourist restaurants but when after a while we turn left into a smaller street, in search of the Great Mosque, this abruptly changes: We’re in a normal street in an old town now, a street where people live and work and have businesses catering to locals rather than tourists. This feels like the ‘real’ old Xi’an. I’d like to roam around more here, but my painful foot doesn’t agree.
Saturday 2004-11-27 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Back together again, and making plans
Our second reunion for the 65 days across Asia trip, this time at Carla’s place in Amsterdam. I figure out the shortest route and walk over there in just half an hour — good practice for my foot! We’re all there (even Thom, who arrived back from Egypt late last night!), and the “family” feeling that resulted from traveling together for over two months is immediately back. We exchange presents, and photos that we ordered with each other. Carla prepared snacks and a meal with an Uzbek theme (really delicious plov!), and I was able to make small contribution by bringing the herbs-and-spice mix that I was given by a friendly and hospitable local on my first visit to Bukhara; it turns out not to be just good on cucumber but also on the plov.
Unavoidably, we talk not only about our past trip together and earlier adventures, but also plans for next year. We’d already heard from Marie Josee, our travel companion (who seems to be in Damascus right now), that the Chinese are working hard on the railroad to Lhasa; in fact, it looks like they’ll be finishing it even before the planned date. This railroad is expected to make much of original Tibet and Tibetan culture disappear at an increased pace, mostly by a greater influx of Han Chinese; meanwhile we’ve seen the breakneck speed of renovation in Kashgar, and I expect the same to be happening in Lhasa as well — so I’m not surprised to hear the “four girls” want to go to China and Tibet; they want to organize it themselves. I also want to go to Tibet for the same reasons (like now, before it’s all gone), but I prefer an organized trip (no hassle about transport and lodging, more time to explore) and so does Carla who would like to go as well. We also have the same preference for overland travel instead of internal flights; we’re planning to go to the Vacation Fair in Utrecht in January and we’ll likely be able to agree on a trip and go together! And with a bit of luck (September seems to be the best time of the year) we’ll meet the girls there, too! Nothing firmly decided yet, but Tibet is looking extremely likely now.
