Notes on the road to Damascus
Mad Roadie
Posts: 710
Well here's a tip, if you come to Syria bring cash with you. I did try to buy Syrian pounds at Abu Dhabi airport but the Bank there didn't have any, and the exchange tellers would only exchange cash for the currency (such is its lack of value I think Syrians consider the Euro a safe haven) and wouldn't offer to buy back. So when I landed at Damascus International: an airport that makes Lymm look like a global hub, I arrived with no currency.
No worries, I have at least two credit cards, I can punch then into the ATMs and draw cash, its often the cheaper way anyway. Joy on arrival, two ATMs, both with the lights on, but neither of which would dispense cash to me as they are not Visa enabled. Then I saw a Bank, so I whipped out the gold card and concluded 10,000 should be enough - sounds impressive, but it isn't - only to be told "sorry sir, we do not accept credit cards, dollars yes, credit no"
So I had no hope of a standard taxi, and my Syrian Arabic isn't too hot plus the yellow taxis aren't exactly the ones Joni Mitchell ever sang about, in fact Peggy Mitchell wouldn't sing about them either. I might have been convinced if I could even recognise the make of the car, and I do know cars..... but not these! My only hope was the rip-off limousine touts. Now I hate these people fleecing tourists, and my experiences with the ones in Nice are legend, however they seemed to have two advantages: firstly, for what they considered to be a very very good price AKA "izachip, izaverychip" they would take me to a bank - not unreasonable if they wanted paying, and secondly their cars had 4 wheels, all of which matched and seemed to point in the same direction. So after some haggling and a theoretical 1,600 Pound price agreed my limousine arrived. Everything is relative in Syria. Here a Kia Sorrento is a limousine!
So I was off, on the 'road to Damascus' quite literally. If you have ever been driven in Cairo you will relate to this, as the roads are blacktop, but devoid of any features we associate with roads, like white lines to indicate there are lanes, a hard shoulder (that is just an alternative passing place) of give way markings - which explains the roundabout technique....up to a point. Having come here to explore the potential for new work, and their appetite for bringing in international architects, I was beginning to despair as we entered the city. On the outskirts every street looked just like you see on the news in East Jerusalem, but without the overturned car and stone throwing youths. There seemed little going for the place apart from some city walls nobody seems to care about and a dramatic suburb built up a hillside these no-name taxis would never make it up, and certainly you wouldn't want to be in if they ever did and had to return to the valley floor - which would explain the stained seats. As you near the centre of the city it does improve and the roads get wider, especially at one roundabout, which is cobbled and chaotic: Place de La Concord, but in Damascus and with less discipline. It was a harrowing experience, and I stopped looking ahead and focussed on the water feature and sculpture in the middle. My driver failed to get off at the right junction, so perhaps having had a vindictive look in his mirror decided to treat me to a second lap. It was bad, and what I thought was a war memorial in the fountain with names of fallen heroes was I concluded more likely to be a memorial to those who hadn't made it on this very un-merry-go-round of fear. Thankfully at the second exit attempt 5 into 1 did work and we headed to civilisation in the form of a bank with a Visa ATM.
With cash in hand we set off through the streets of shabby looking 50's style buildings until a brand new stone building appeared, like it was from outer space, modern, slick, nice trees outside and flags. As we got closer to the hotel the very thought of this sanctuary as my home for the next 3 nights became more comforting..............Anyway, we drove past the Four Seasons, and I realised it was the 'Sheratonne' factor all over again as we pulled into the tired looking hotel, which has all the splendour of a 1960' building, but without the E-type Jag in the car park and the cravat wearing ex-pat in a blazer and slacks. alas it is no better inside, and when I went for dinner in the restaurant for 150+ with the 6 other diners it felt like a cross between an upscale Arabic Faulty Towers and one of those Hotels where war correspondents hang out when the bullets start flying. Must check out the roof top tonight for John Snow doing his live broadcast bit back to the ITN newsroom.
No worries, I have at least two credit cards, I can punch then into the ATMs and draw cash, its often the cheaper way anyway. Joy on arrival, two ATMs, both with the lights on, but neither of which would dispense cash to me as they are not Visa enabled. Then I saw a Bank, so I whipped out the gold card and concluded 10,000 should be enough - sounds impressive, but it isn't - only to be told "sorry sir, we do not accept credit cards, dollars yes, credit no"
So I had no hope of a standard taxi, and my Syrian Arabic isn't too hot plus the yellow taxis aren't exactly the ones Joni Mitchell ever sang about, in fact Peggy Mitchell wouldn't sing about them either. I might have been convinced if I could even recognise the make of the car, and I do know cars..... but not these! My only hope was the rip-off limousine touts. Now I hate these people fleecing tourists, and my experiences with the ones in Nice are legend, however they seemed to have two advantages: firstly, for what they considered to be a very very good price AKA "izachip, izaverychip" they would take me to a bank - not unreasonable if they wanted paying, and secondly their cars had 4 wheels, all of which matched and seemed to point in the same direction. So after some haggling and a theoretical 1,600 Pound price agreed my limousine arrived. Everything is relative in Syria. Here a Kia Sorrento is a limousine!
So I was off, on the 'road to Damascus' quite literally. If you have ever been driven in Cairo you will relate to this, as the roads are blacktop, but devoid of any features we associate with roads, like white lines to indicate there are lanes, a hard shoulder (that is just an alternative passing place) of give way markings - which explains the roundabout technique....up to a point. Having come here to explore the potential for new work, and their appetite for bringing in international architects, I was beginning to despair as we entered the city. On the outskirts every street looked just like you see on the news in East Jerusalem, but without the overturned car and stone throwing youths. There seemed little going for the place apart from some city walls nobody seems to care about and a dramatic suburb built up a hillside these no-name taxis would never make it up, and certainly you wouldn't want to be in if they ever did and had to return to the valley floor - which would explain the stained seats. As you near the centre of the city it does improve and the roads get wider, especially at one roundabout, which is cobbled and chaotic: Place de La Concord, but in Damascus and with less discipline. It was a harrowing experience, and I stopped looking ahead and focussed on the water feature and sculpture in the middle. My driver failed to get off at the right junction, so perhaps having had a vindictive look in his mirror decided to treat me to a second lap. It was bad, and what I thought was a war memorial in the fountain with names of fallen heroes was I concluded more likely to be a memorial to those who hadn't made it on this very un-merry-go-round of fear. Thankfully at the second exit attempt 5 into 1 did work and we headed to civilisation in the form of a bank with a Visa ATM.
With cash in hand we set off through the streets of shabby looking 50's style buildings until a brand new stone building appeared, like it was from outer space, modern, slick, nice trees outside and flags. As we got closer to the hotel the very thought of this sanctuary as my home for the next 3 nights became more comforting..............Anyway, we drove past the Four Seasons, and I realised it was the 'Sheratonne' factor all over again as we pulled into the tired looking hotel, which has all the splendour of a 1960' building, but without the E-type Jag in the car park and the cravat wearing ex-pat in a blazer and slacks. alas it is no better inside, and when I went for dinner in the restaurant for 150+ with the 6 other diners it felt like a cross between an upscale Arabic Faulty Towers and one of those Hotels where war correspondents hang out when the bullets start flying. Must check out the roof top tonight for John Snow doing his live broadcast bit back to the ITN newsroom.
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Comments
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Is that a tip or a screen play!!?
"There's a shortage of perfect breasts in this world, t'would be a pity to damage yours."0 -
a tip - truth is stranger than fiction0
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I thought you were going to be struck blind and be sent to a house on Straight street.0
