A Day in the Desert

It's probably ignorance on my part, but I expected more of Syria to be like this; a desolate and inhospitable landscape and baking hot. As we thundered down the road as fast as the patchy roads and our little yellow taxi would allow, it had me absolutely riveted. With the trucks belching plumes of diesel smoke, the occasional phosphorous mine, no vegetation higher than about 6 inches and a closer proximity to the Iraqi border than I had envisaged (about 150km), I couldn't tear my eyes away and had an absolutely fantastic day.

The day began early, and with the news that I would be accompanied on the journey out to Palmyra by Carol, an English girl who was staying at the Riad Hotel. Again, it was nice to have some company to explore and wander the ruins at Palmyra. Even as Syria's prime tourist attraction, Palmyra was gloriously sparsely populated; allowing Carol and I to have the place largely to ourselves.

To say that Palmyra is stunning simply does not do the place justice. I was stuck by the size of the place, the scale of the buildings and the area over which it is laid out is so much more immense than I had been imagining. Carol and I both spent much of our time there musing at how the place must have looked in its prime. It would have been truly mindblowing.

Palmyra hs had a colourful history to say the least. On the edge of an oasis, it was an Assyrian caravan town for at least a millenium BC and was important centre for trade routes to the east that formed part of the fabled Silk Road. The city flourished under Greek rule, but less than 60 years after being annexed by Rome (AD 217), Palmyra was torched by Roman Emporer Aurelian. This, alas, was the beginning of the end for Palmyra and after being conquered by the Muslims in the 7th century, the city was virtually flattened by an earthquake at the end of the 11th century.

The pink sandstone ruins that remain are, nevertheless, spectacular. Depending on which way you look they are set against either a mass of palm trees or the barren desert. Overlooking it all is an Arabian castle (Qala'at ibn Maan) set high on a hilltop to the west of the ruins. The Temple of Bel is the most complete structure and consists of a huge walled courtyard with the cella (temple proper), dated from Ad 32, at its centre. From the temple, an arch signifies the entry to the Great Colonnade, where the only people we met were camel owners, keen to sell us a ride, or guys on motorbikes keen to sell us a drink. After about 4 hours of splendid isolation, in the baking sun, amid the most magnificent ruins that could be imagined we retreated to the shade of a cafe.

Carol returned to Hama and Abdul pointed the taxi in the direction of Damascus. I had a brief visit to Maluula on the way there and, as an extra for allowing Carol to join me, I was taken up a mountain that provides the most magnificent panoramic view of Damascus. It was a glorious end to a long and glorious day.