Petra

The Treasury greets one into the whole site, so the magic lasts for the whole day.

The Treasury - A testimony to the wealth of the Nabateans and also of the cultural power of the Ancient Greeks.

In the portico looking towards the siq.

Compared to the rest of the other surviving buildings, the Treasury followed the Greek tradition closest - the proportions and the sculptures were almost perfect.

The native Nabatean style. Not sure whether these are dwellings or small tombs.

The Roman street.

The Lion Tomb.

The monastery. It took me an hour or so to climb the hill to get here but when I saw this, it felt great.

In the horizon - the Negev desert of Israel. I wish I can fly!

No visit to Jordan is going to be complete without Petra. This ancient city definitely lived up to the hype. Everyone who's been raved about it so much so it made me a little bit nervous about whether it really is as good as it sounds. The Malay phrase "Indah khabar dari rupa" (Sounds better than it looks) kept on playing on my mind, readying me for a disappointment. But of course it didn't disappoint. This place is so magical. It's literally a whole city built into canyons and rock formations. The crowds of tourists and the souvenir stalls (in the style of traditional Bedouin tent) didn't bother me either, it's great to have a lot of people and tents around. It made Petra seemed like a real living city.

Most people here stayed more than a day to explore the whole area (it's massive). The first day doing the essentials, the following days for hiking off the beaten tracks. There was so much to see there, to take it all in on one day is physically impossible. I only did the essentials because I only had one day there but even then it took me 12 hours. It was so tiring, few hours of that was resting at the viewpoints and cafes dotted around the site.

When I visit Jordan again, I'd definitely come back to Petra. It's not like going to the Colosseum in Rome (only do it once in a lifetime!). Petra can be explored as two things - one as a mystical dead city, another as a great hiking area. Both ways will provide inexhaustible number of sights and attractions. My next visit to Petra would be to explore the more remote parts of the site, including the Tomb of Aaron, claimed as the location of the Prophet Haroun's grave and the much talked-about Little Petra.

The Dead Sea

The Amman Beach, Dead Sea.

The obligatory "Look-at-me-I'm-floating" picture. (The West Bank in the background)

On my last day in Amman, I felt a bit better so I decided to take the first bus on the day to the Dead Sea. It wasn't the easiest route as I learnt from going through the remote villages and changing the bus in a junction-town. The bus then dropped me in the middle of nowhere when I categorically refused their exorbitant demand of an extra 5JD to the public beach. A local came off with me, probably felt sorry for me. We walked a couple of kilometres in the intense desert sun until someone picked us up and took me to the public beach.

The Dead Sea is great. I loved it. It was really strange that I couldn't swim properly because my body was not used to that kind of uplift. I wished there were others with me that day. It felt lonely swimming on my own. But oh well. There's always next time! I remembered reading about the Dead Sea when I was really small in this book called "1001 Fantastic Facts". I've always wanted to come here.

Amman

A the hostel in Damascus, a Canadian managed to convince me to come with him to Amman. I was planning to go on that day but not that early in the morning. He said the border formalities would take ages (which it did) and was shocked to learn that I was planning to go at night. As it turned out we met other people who were going to Jordan that day. So getting a shared taxi to Amman was easy.

Our taxi driver was a right dodgy one. It seemed like he was using the opportunity to smuggle all the duty free stuff into Jordan. At the Syrian border he bought cartons of ciggarettes (more than allowed) and bought more when we got to the Jordanian side. To make sure he hadn't miss out on anything, he bought a big bottle of whiskey as well. He even slipped some money in his passport for the border guards. The ciggarette cartons were unpacked and stuffed into his socks. The remaining was given to us so that we pretend it was ours. The whiskey was not his, he said. "Pretend it's yours". He was hoping to keep up the pious Arab facade for the general public. Everything was done in a systematic fashion, with an efficiency I thought could never occur in the Arab World.

Once in Jordan, he refused to drive us to our hotel and dropped us off instead in the middle of Downtown Amman. He was really rude about it - he got out of the car and took our stuff out. To add to the insult he was asking more money than agreed in Damascus. We argued and argued by the busy roadside. When we counted all of our money, we didn't have enough to even pay him the (cheaper agreed) fare. As a retaliation, we just left him there while he cursed us with a spat on the floor. Spit all you want.

Unfortunately, things didn't go too well for me in Amman. I was down with a fever and a cold which rendered me hostel-bound for 3 days. I didn't explore Amman as much as I wanted as well. It could be the curse of the taxi driver but I think it was most likely my indiscriminate eating in Syria. I began to feel unwell a week before in Aleppo. (An Aussie who stayed in the same hostel in Aleppo told me he became ill since Aleppo too - we met today at Pyramids in Cairo after almost 2 weeks).

I don't mind the illness too much but it was the fact that I had to cancel my attempt to get into Israel/Palestine that pissed me off. I've had it on my mind since I started this trip so it was pretty disappointing to be just few kilometres away from Jerusalem but stuck in my bed. Maybe it's divine intervention. Oh well. Come to think about it now, I would had to endure a great deal to enter Israel and the Palestinian territories. Malaysia and Israel don't have any diplomatic relations. (Useless passport!) In fact, Malaysia hates Israel's guts. So God knows what would've happened if I did go. But like my previous failure to get into Tibet last year, this would be a reason for me to come back to this beautiful region.

Damascus

The Omayyad Mosque. Dream come true!

Exquisite mosaic work. The Omayyads have employed Byzantine craftsmen in many of their buildings.

Depictions of heavenly gardens.

Inside the mosque - tomb of John the Baptist (Prophet Yahya)

A typical Damascene courtyard house.

Sayyida Ruayah Mosque's architecture has the extravagance typically found in most traditional Persian shrines.

The tomb of Sayyida Ruqayah.

The man sitting on the chair recited a poem which sparked mourning cries around him.

The Damascene stripes.

The taxi drivers, usually evil creatures.

The Christian Quarter in the Old City.

One of the many restored villas, now a tourist restaurant.

Peanuts of all sorts!

The gate to the Temple of Jupiter, now the Omayyad Mosque.


Souq Hamidiyya. Built by the Turks, shelled by the evil French (holes on the roof).

Poetry night! I want to learn Arabic now.

Me and my favourite building in Syria.

After Aleppo, it's difficult to like any other place anymore - the authencity of its Old City, it's less touristed, I was greeted by a constant chain of smiles, people talk to me all the time and I felt loved! I got so used to being teated like an honoured guest when I got to Damascus, it felt hostile. By any standard Damascus, being Syrian, was friendly but it had been a major tourist hotspot for a long time so foreigners are not exactly a rare sight. In fact the hordes of tour group that stream into the city must've been an occasional headache for the residents. I immediately missed Aleppo.

Damascus however was not an easy place to dislike. Even with this mild dash of hostility, the city is packed with icons of history. This is after all one of the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. My Lonely Planet sums it up with a beautiful description by Mark Twain:

"Damascus has seen all that has ever occurred on earth,
and still she lives.
She has looked upon the dry bones of a thousand empires,
and will see the tombs of a thousand more
before she dies.

...Damascus measures time not by days
and months and years,
but by the empires she has seen rise
and prosper
and crumble to ruin.

She is a type of immortality."

The souqs here are bigger than the ones in Aleppo and with the influx of Iranian pilgrims, it was much more lively. My first day in Damascus was just about the souqs- I just walked for hours absorbing the energy and scents so that I will remember it. The Lonely Planet map for the Old City was so bad as well so that helped me to wander off from the main thoroughfares and into the more secluded parts. If it wasn't because I carried a backpack, I would've bought a great many things from the souqs - Arabic lanterns, frankincense, divan stools, carpets, backgammon set. The craftmanship is excellent here and where there aren't that many tourists, you can get handmade carpets as cheap as 15 Euros! My haggling skills are now honed from previous travels and the Syrians are much easier to negotiate with than Moroccans or the Chinese.

The Omayyad Mosque was my favourite place in Damascus. Like Hagia Sophia, it's one of those buildings that I've read so much about and seeing it for myself was unreal. I went early in the morning where the Iranian pilgims have already started to converge and the Byzantine mosaics shined its best. There are so many pre-Islamic elements in the mosque (remnants of Temple of Jupiter, Byzantine craftmanship, almost basilical in form) it certainly doesn't look like the kind of mosques that I'm used to.

The tomb of Hussein is located in the mosque courtyard making it one of the most important pilgrimage sites for Shia Muslims. I've never been to a Shia mosque before so it was certainly an experience for me. Some of the Iranians (who were in a more sober mood at the time) were amused to see me bewildered and enchanted by the collective chants and the heartfelt wailing of their faithful. It was the same when I visited the Sayyida Ruqayah Mosque just few streets away. This time it was almost exclusively Iranian. The power of the mourning overwhelmed me. It was hard not to be moved by their sadness. Inside there was a man who recited a poem and he did it beautifully. Everyone around him knelt and cried with all their heart. There was such melancholy. It is interesting that the memory of the Massacre, that happened few centuries back, was preserved with such immediacy. Everyone cried like it happened yesterday. After a while I decided I need to get back with the living. I left the mosque feeling depressed so I went back into the maze of souqs to lift my spirits back up.

Damascus is such a great place to study architecture. On my third day, I did a tour of the palaces and villas of the old Damascene upper class. These houses were not just a testament of the kind of wealth the city once had but also the craftsmanship of the masons. I especially loved how they create patterns on the facade using coloured stones inlaid into the stone work. It seemed like everything was so interconnected they must've had an integrated plan for all aspect of the building. Or maybe it was just a tradition that was refined by centuries of trial and error.

But Damascus is not complacent with its place in history. The arts scene is lively. I never had much time to explore more of this side of modern Damascus but I did go to one poetry recital night. It was my first full-on encounter with modern Syria. Unlike the case in most places, it wasn't an exclusively middle-class affair. That night, taxi drivers, women in tank tops or with full hijabs, communists, stalinists, old men, young people rubbed shoulders in that cramped underground bar. I truly regret not learning Arabic. Poetry is a potent medium in this part of the world. With stinging political commentaries, atmosphere was great that night. I felt a certain tension as well knowing full well that this place could get raided anytime!

Aleppo, Syria

The courtyard of the Omayyad Mosque at dusk.

Lively and authentic souqs selling absolutely anything you need in life.

The more touristy souqs are smaller and few and far between. But still beautiful!

The butcher's lane.

Architecture students!!

Oh yeaah!

The tomb of Prophet Zachariah in the Omayyad Mosque.

Maronite Church in the Christian Quarter.

These wooden boxes are amazing. I did so many sketches of them.

The Armenian Church

The view of the Mosque from the hilltop Citadel.

The Citadel.

New friends!

Very very friendly people. I love Syrians!

All the moms pushed their sons to us for a photo which we willingly obliged!

Dumped by the busy roadside in the middle of the city, the group of us travellers must've looked bewildered and lost. Trying to orientate ourselves in this sudden chaos after hours on the bus was proving difficult. We were hoping to arrive at a bus station (with a Tourist Info! How naive.) and find a place to stay for the night. We weren't even sure whether we're in Aleppo but the sensory overload - noise, dirt, chaos and massive traffic - confirmed our arrival in an Arab city. One thing for sure no one expected to be dropped off like this.

But this is Syria.

Where the hospitality of its inhabitants are age-old tales passed from travellers to travellers. We were immediately rescued by one person after another (within minutes). The locals pointed us to the right direction and assured us with a smile as big as Arabia itself - "Ahlan wasahlan".

Aleppo to a lot of Westerners is a deeply conservative city but that analysis didn't occur to me until someone actually said it. Yes there are people donning traditional dress but hey they could be physicist or a socialist for all I know. Someone wearing modern Western clothing might hold a traditional worldview (caste system, arranged marriage, honour above all, tribal allegiance etc). Is that conservative or not? The term conservative to me is confusing.

The highlight of Aleppo for me is the tomb of Prophet Zachariah. I was just walking around the Old Town aimlessly when I saw the Omayyad Mosque. I went in, prayed and sat down in the cool shades admiring the elegant architecture of the courtyard. I saw people converging at one corner and I asked someone what they're looking at. When told that it was the tomb of the Prophet I felt a kind of blood rush. I was moved. This was the first time that I actually see any kind of manifestation from the Quran and the prophetic stories. I was really moved by it. I stood there and just stared at the simple grave adorned with rich green textile. I was at peace.

The Aleppine souqs are breathtakingly beautiful. The mediaeval architecture fused with the messiness of the goods creating scenes that took me centuries back. Best of all it wasn't a museum toy town for tourists but an authentic part of the urban fabric. It's a functioning high street. Maybe a good comparison would be Fes in Morocco but there the souqs are more like alleyways. In Aleppo it was an interconnected grand bazaar covered in countless domes. And unlike the Moroccan souqs, there was absolutely no hassling or pushy sellers. I loved the souqs here. I spent hours and hours just walking around getting lost in the labyrinth. Kudos to the enlightened municipal council whose philosophy is to preserve the authenticity of life in the Old City. That would ensure this won't go down as another tourist trap. I went to the regeneration museum to learn more about their plans and was really impressed. Penang and Melaka should learn from Aleppo.

The Christian Quarter was another interesting area in the Old City. I've always been curious about the Christian Arabs. Now that I've learnt a bit more, they're all more intriguing. All of the different churches are concentrated in almost one street in Quarter - Armenian, Maronite, Greek Orthodox and Catholic. Each has its own interesting history in the Arab world. In the Armenian Church I spoke to one lady who showed me around and told me the history of the Armenians in Syria. The Armenians in Syria are mostly descendants of the Ottoman genocide survivors in the early 20th century. She still mourns the loss of Western Armenia (Today's southeastern Turkey) to the Turks and refused to use the Turkish names for these "occupied" areas. I then told her the story of the Armenians in Penang that surprised her. Even told her to come visit Penang.

Aleppo was such a great place, I'd come again for it just to be lost in the souqs or meet up with all the friends that I made here. Even if I didn't do the sightseeing, I would've still enjoyed Aleppo for the sheer friendliness of the people (free falafels, free baklava, everybody wanted a photo with me, I was greeted with songs and the Arab dance in the hammam etc). But Syria is fast modernising. Things seem like it's going to change. But let's hope it will never change the hospitable character of the Aleppines.

I LOVE ALEPPO.

At the Turkish-Syrian border

On the way to Syria, me and a couple of other guys that I met almost caused a homicidal mess in the border town of Antakya (aka Antioch). Like any border towns, this one is as dusty, swarmed with touts, and have an atmosphere of being nowhere. A black market currency exchange guy came up to us and offered an excellent rate, hence siphoning the opportunity from his competitor, a legit guy. The legit guy cried foul and started to abuse the black market guy. Once we got our money changed, we let them be. But within minutes, the arguments became physical - the two started to push each other. The legit guy went into his shop to return only with a knife ready to plunge it into the black market guy. In a matter of seconds, whole community of touts, bus drivers and bypassers intervened and rescued both of them from themselves. Nothing happened apart from them two exchanging vicious abuses - but from a healthy distance.

This is where freemarket economics makes perfect sense. We had the best deals for absolutely everything. The competition was fierce, all we had to do was to make a gesture of displeasure and we get a price reduction. In the end we paid next to nothing for bus tickets and other things. Not sure whether I should be proud of myself.

And then it's the Syrian border checkpoint. I was slightly anxious because I was one of the only three in the bus who didn't have a visa applied beforehand. All the horror stories picked up from travellers sure didn't make it any better. As it turned out, it was a piece of cake for me. Malaysians get free entry to Syria and no other questions apart from a smiling "Ahlan wasahlan". Whereas the Kiwi and the Aussie who were with me at the time had to pay a hefty USD100 for entry. Years of having to deal with hassles of all sorts from a lot of countries I visited before, I felt like the Malaysian passport had finally became useful!

For once the bright red passport was viewed with envy.

Capadoccia, Central Turkey

The view from my hostel's terrace. Absulotely surreal.

From Istanbul I took an overnight bus to Goreme in the famous Capadoccia region in Central Turkey. It was actually a spontaneous decision that I made when I realised that I actually stayed longer than I should in Istanbul. I was behind my schedule. Left Istanbul with a heavy heart because I was really getting comfortable there. But the journey had to continue or else I'd miss my flight from Cairo.

One of the hundreds of hidden and forgotten dwellings that dots the landscape.

Apparently just a generation ago, men who wish to attract a bride must be able to lure a pigeon into one of these pigeon houses.

On the bus I met two Brazillians from Sao Paolo who made the torturous journey seem quick and pleasant. We spent a great many hours just talking and laughing (when everyone else was trying to get some sleep). I was inspired by their joie de vivre attitude to life (they lost their luggages, almost missed their flight to Istanbul etc. but they were more amused than worried about it). Reminded me of Elina who in the same way exudes the kind of infectious optimism. Also Usman had he been there, he'd launched into a lecture on spontaneity and how I'm such a stress head.

The Goreme Open Air Museum

That's my cave-room! A DEN.

Capadoccia is famous for its cave townships and surreal landscape. Some of the towns here were carved literally out of the rock formations creating a unique sci-fi otherworldly place. The history of the region is complex and vague which adds to the intrigue. The frescoes in the cave-churches echoes the ancient cave temples/synagogues of Western China (Gansu and Xinjiang). I wonder whether there's any relationship between them.

I really enjoyed my visit here. Met an American guy and we ended up renting a scooter. It was great to explore this area with the scooter because we stopped at some of the abandoned cave cities along the road where there were no tourists. But when it gets windy, the dust was unbearable. Anyone going to Cappadocia should do the scooter!