Yalla Syria!

"We, in Syria, our point of view stems from our experience".

-Bashar al-Assad (President of Syria)

As we prepared for this trip and told people we’d be traveling to Syria we got two very different responses. Those that have been there told us how much they wish they could return. Those that hadn’t asked, “Why”?!? If, for nothing else our anticipation was peaked by the unknown. Leaving Jordan we wondered what the next few weeks would have for us. (Tina for the most part was wondering if there would be heat in the rooms or hot water?

Crossing the border from Jordan by bus immediately brought us back to the time we spent in Russia. At the border the toilets were filled with large women washing their stockings in the sinks, the men smoking like chimneys and the border guards sorting through stack and stacks of old passports. We crossed the border behind a truck that the guards revealed to be carrying loads of people under canvass sheets. As they got waved through we were fairly sure that we too could enter.

On New Years Eve we arrived in the Old city in Damascus. The city lays claim to being the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. It is a center of Islamic culture and a wonderfully charming location. We spent the next few days wandering through the walled town and soaking in the thick atmosphere of the old souk. It had been a very long time since I felt that a city had such an incredible air about it. But Damascus truly is special. After a relatively sober New Years we pushed on to the interior and the desert ruins of Palmyra.

Palmyra is an ancient ruined city that was the major site of Roman influence in the region. At one point the female leader turned on Rome and defeated the empire’s armies several times before the Emperor himself was forced to drive her from the city. There are very few tourists and you walk onto the site for free and can wander around as you like. The atmosphere is remarkable as you stand in the desert at the edge of the palm fringed oasis (hence the name “Palmyra”). It really had the feel of a far flung Roman outpost. We were tempted to head north east to the sparsely populated region dominated by the Kurds but as time was an issue we turned instead to the interior city of Hama.

Hama is well known through the Middle East as many claim that the moaning sounds of the wooden wheels echo through the region. The wheels are used to help scoop water from a painfully low river to the irrigation system above. The city is also well known for being destroyed in the 80’s by the government troops for sympathizing with rebel groups. We trudged into town in the pouring rain, slightly lost and getting cold. Thankfully we found our way and in the next few days enjoyed the town and a trip through the rolling country side that included an Ismaili castle and a giant castle the Crusaders left behind. Having played “hide and seek” for hours we carried on to our final stop, Aleppo.

Aleppo remains a more traditional city and the souk (market) is still alive with day to day shoppers. The atmosphere of the covered souk is unreal. We strolled by stores selling meat from a camel carcass, intricate rugs, thick incense, gold, silver, and all items of daily use. Brilliant.

Leaving Syria we felt that the sites of Jordan were very impressive but that the atmosphere of Syria and the kindness of the Syrian people was truly special. It was not uncommon for one of to hear a passerby murmur a ‘Welcome’ that only could have been directed to us. Our journey to another section of the Middle East has increased our knowledge and understanding of many of the people of the area. No longer I feel, will we solely associate these wonderful areas and peoples with the newspaper headlines they have come to be ‘known’ by. We were tired and cold but immensely impressed with both counties as we headed back to Oman and life in Muscat.

As we missed a New Years edition blog entry, we’d like to wish you all a very Happy New Year.

The Hashemite Kingdom

" Jordan has a strange, haunting beauty and a sense of timelessness. Dotted with the ruins of empires once great, it is the last resort of yesterday in the world of tomorrow. I love every inch of it. "

-King Hussein I

Smack in between Iraq and the Palestinian Territories, Jordan offers some of the most intriguing sights, hospitable people and fascinating landscape we’ve seen. Two massive surges of Palestinian refugees and a recent surge of over 100,000 Iraqis, brings a very diverse population that has somehow remained the most stable in the region. Petra, Wadi Rum, the Dead Sea, etc all in the midst of the Israeli/Palestinian situation…we were excited to see what it was all about.

After landing in Amman we headed to the southern point of the nation renowned for its diving – Aqaba. Sitting on our balcony staring across the gulf at Israel’s cities, and Egypt’s desolate Sinai it was a bizarre crossroads to be in. To add to the mystique thousands of people from all over the Middle East were returning from the Hajj pilgrimage through this bustling port town. People watching aside, since we both forgot our water wings we didn’t get in the water but instead turned to the land of Lawrence of Arabia….Wadi Rum.

Wadi Rum is a landscape filled with red sand poured between massive red monoliths resembling blobs of melted candle wax. Christmas Eve was spent rocking to the lumbering beat of the camels we rode and attempting to make sense of the views in front of us. We continued on with the help of our one-humped friends and stayed the night in a Bedouin camp with two young guys from the desert. A full moon was out that night and we walked through the moonlit desert while one of the boys sang from his tent. A different, but brilliant, way to spend Christmas Eve. Rest assured Santa did drop off a few gifts in the desert that night and we spent the next day hiking around the area and sliding down rock faces on ill advised decisions. Getting older, but not smarter.

As the sun went down Christmas night we made our way to Petra. As a solid member of the 7 wonders of the world (as well as highly recommended by Tina's grandmother), Petra had a big billing to live up to. With no one else there we went through the gates around 6am and started up the Siq. The Siq is a natural, thinly sliced path through the rocks that winds for 1.2 km and adds so much tension to your anticipation. Finally seeing the Treasury (as seen in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom) emerge as you round the final curve couldn’t have been done any better if they tried to create a “tourist entrance” today. Truly jaw dropping. We spent two full days hiking as much of the area as we could in this ancient Nabataen site. As a people that gained their wealth charging taxes on the traders that past through their area, they might very well be some of the worlds most famous “middle men”. After two long days we entered the gates on our final evening to walk the Siq and see the buildings illuminated with 1,500 candles and the stars above. Tons of tourists, very cold, lots of walking but man was it incredible.

From Petra we pushed on to some of the political and historically intriguing aspects of the country. We based ourselves in the small town of Madaba, filled with ancient mosaics and holy relics near the River Jordan. From here we went to Mount Nebo, where Moses finally saw the Promised Land (coincidently so did Tina) and looked onto Jeruselem, Bethleham, the West Bank and all that it encompasses. Winding down through the hills on the King's Highway and into the East Bank we drove past donkeys, camels and Palestinian camps as we headed for the Jordan River. Washing our faces in the river at the exact site of Jesus’ baptism was a moving, memorable experience.

Our final stop was the lowest point in the world – the Dead Sea. The sea is 30% salt (ocean water is normally about 4%) and got its name due to the inability of anything to live in its waters. A misty thick cloud of evaporating salt water hovers over the site and adds to the unease as you first enter. Admitedly we spent way too much time laughing and floating around in the water to be taken seriously. It was ridiculous but was unlike anything we’ve done before. As I side note I now know the exact location of every cut on my body. A few tears were shed.

The incredibly varied sites that Jordan packs into such a small country are staggering. Hopping around the country you can really appreciate the difficult position of the nation and be impressed at the stability amidst all the tensions of the populace. We stayed the night in Amman as we prepared for Syria.

From here we set out on the road for Damascus…..

Masirah Island and Merry Christmas

" I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end".

- Margaret Thatcher (1925 -)


Our last blog entry was all about our friend Tish and his visit to Oman. Unfortunately, Tish left at the beginning of a long holiday weekend. His flight departed at the pleasant hour of 4am and sleep deprived and weary we left at 7:30am for a camping trip. Wise planning.

We headed, with our good friends Lucas and Tennielle, for Oman’s largest island – Masirah. We had heard that getting to the ferry crossing at the earliest possible time was vital. We did not heed that advice and decided we were waaayyy to wise for these words. Five hours of driving later and we arrived at the “ferry crossing”. The scene was filled with piles of cars all vying for the opening that allegedly lead to a future boat. Having just missed a boat we began asking around about the ferry, etc. The predictable flurry of contradicting answers ensued with all having one thing in common – “tide going out, no good. Next ferry, than 7pm (dark).” Uh oh. So as the next floating collection of metal parts chugged into the “terminal” we got into our cars and joined the massive game of chicken. Forcing our way towards our rightful place in line we arrived at the loading point only to see all the cars had filled the deck. The deckhands all waved us on, and with swirling hands and wobbling heads convinced us to contort our car onto the rear loading flap. We grabbed anything we valued out of the car as they placed wood boards around
our wheels and raised the flap, lifting our car to a 45 degree angle. One wise gentleman kindly leaned his head into my window and said, “handbrake”. Yeah buddy, I got that.

Arriving on the other side we drove around the sparsely populated island and found a place to camp on the southern end. The scene is other-worldy. The middle of the island is piled with Hershey Kiss shaped hills, followed by gravel desert leading to the white sand beaches that ring the island. Vegetation was extremely limited and there was very little protection from the elements. The days were spent swimming in the crystal clear waters searching for the turtles that had dug holes on the beach the night before and watching herds camels feeding together. The nights were not as relaxing as they were spent holding our tents down from the winds that were tearing them from their supports.

We departed to a similar ferry scene taking the expected one hour and forty-five minutes to cross the 9km straight. Next time we’ll bring our own oars.


Christmas:

As you might imagine for a pair of Canadians celebrating Christmas in 30 degree heat is not the norm. For whatever Oman lacks in “festive spirit” we’ve been attempting to add our own as we decorate our 3 foot tree, download Christmas movies and I moonlight as Santa (I can’t lie about that one, Tina has pictures). We will be away for Christmas and are very excited for our trip.

We will be in Jordan and Syria for three weeks. We will be spending Dec 24th travelling on camels through Wadi Rum (Lawrence of Arabia) and staying in a Bedouin camp that night. Christmas morning we will ride the camels back and then head to Petra that evening. We are hoping to have Christmas dinner at the foot of the Petra site. We will fill you in on the rest when we return.

As excited as we are for our Christmas, we will greatly miss our family and friends this season. We wish you all the very best over the holidays.

Merry Christmas.

Tish's visit

"Only your real friends tell you when your face is dirty."
- Sicilian Proverb

We chose the quote above since that’s the kinda thing Tish revels in telling you about. Then, he brings it up in awkward moments for years to come. Classy man.

For those that don’t know Tish, he is a good friend of Tina and mine from back home in Canada. He came all the way out here to visit us, consume our limited alcohol supply, and see a piece of the Arab world. We gladly agreed to all three.

Tish arriving on a plane from Dubai seemed no problem, except for the fact that his flight was sandwiched between planes from India and Pakistan. Both of which were filled to the brim with labour workers that are hassled through customs and then herded onto a waiting bus to go to work centers. If it wasn’t for a few quick waves, our Canadian friend of Indian/Fijian heritage might well be still somewhere in Oman, wearing a blue one piece suit working way too hard. Heavily moustached faces wobbled in agreement as Tish and I exited the airport averting a near misunderstanding that would have lead to years of good banter.

In the first week in Oman we took Tish around our city and into the surrounding hills. We headed to the mountains as soon as he dropped the bags at the house and weaved through villages, past camels and palm oasis’ on the way to Oman’s highest peak. The rest of the week was spent in Souks (markets), beaches and around the city sites. After a few days we headed Dubai.

Shy of social commentary I will merely suggest that for all the economic brilliance of the Emirate it is an environmental catastrophe. But it sure is crazy. We drove in late at night and had no idea where our place was. We ended up in the old area of town and it was great. It was seedy, extremely fluid and very multiethnic. Our place catered to East African traders that were in town on passes as their boats lay in the creek. They could only enter town to go to the grocery store or trade goods. If they abided by the rules they could leave tax free (all this info comes second hand) Made for a lively lobby as the men piled their goods in the entrance and stayed up all night watching it.

The newer parts of the sprawling city are all the modern shopping malls, luxury hotels and audacious development that make Dubai the world’s largest water consumer and an architect’s dreamland. Indoor ski hills, island communities shaped like palm trees and the world, underwater hotels and 7 star resorts on the water left you shocked by the disregard for the environment, impressed by the architectural brilliance and humbled by your inability to afford any of it. We couldn’t even afford the entrance fee to walk into the lobby of the Burj Al Arab.

Apparently all of this development has helped Dubai to lower oil to only 2-3% of its GDP and will enable it to be prosperous beyond the drying up of its oil reserves estimated to be in the next 10 years.

After completing our weekend in Dubai we headed back to the border stopping briefly to rip around the red sand dunes wearing goofy helmets and giggling like little kids. We capped off the trip back in Muscat with some relaxing evenings outside and some days at the beach before we had to send Tish back to the cold realities of an upcoming Canadian winter.

It was great having him here and look forward to our next set of visitors soon. We would love to show as many of you as possible this wonderful part of the world.

Enjoy your holiday seasons. You are in our thoughts.

Lesson Learned

After a day's walk everything has twice its usual value.

-George Macauley Trevelyan


Many apologies for the delay in writing. As always excuses will fill the first paragraph and then we will get onto our stories.

We helped host the school volleyball finals for the region - hosting schools from Kuwait, Qatar, UAE, Syria and Oman. Report cards were due and Tina was helping with our school's musical production. All took time and energy away from sitting here and typing away. Excuses over.

For some time now a few guys at school and myself had been wanting to do this trek we had heard about. Rumour had it that it was a 24 km, old donkey trail, 2100m rise and fall, 2 day, hike through barren, empty hills from the coast to the interior. We would split into 2 groups of 4 starting from either end, pass each other in the middle and drive the other groups truck back home on the final night. Our group had tons of experience with guys that have done the Pacific coast trail, written books about trekking through Egypt, etc. No problem we thought. So on we went.

Our group of 4 started at the ocean and after a 400m climb on the wrong trail, came back down to have the boys of the village lead us to the start of the proper trail. This "trail" was nothing more than sporadic paint markings on stones made for travellers coming from the opposite direction. With no landmarks we relied mainly on GPS and old notes about the trek. The heat rose sharply and we started going through our water much faster than we had anticipated. For many km's we followed the bells of a couple of donkeys we saw earlier on the path. Passing only a cave village, the odd goat and two young herders the entire first day we "had the place to ourselves". We realized quickly that we would not make our agreed upon meeting point to camp with the group coming the other direction so we trudged on past an old cemetery until night fell and laid down as the sun sank.

At dawn we rose to cover as much ground before the sun became too strong. We finally passed our friends we were to have met the night before. Neither group looked good and neither group passed on good news to the other. We left knowing we all needed to hurry to beat nightfall and ration our water as we were all down to our final 2 litres (started with 6.5L). At one point our group of 4 was lost, with precious little water, and completely exposed in scorching heat. We were greatly helped by finding an abandoned donkey trough and drinking from it, along with finding the occasional cave to huddle in for shade.

After 10 hours of hiking on the final day we trudged into our destination and savoured the water in the nearby village. The other group arrived at our starting point (their end point) hours later. They were in tough shape and the boys in the village below carried water up to them and helped them make it down the steep decline in darkness.

We collected our stories today and have been totally humbled by the desolate elements. Lesson learned. That mistake won't be lost on any of us.

Meanwhile, Tina had a "girls weekend" with one of the other halves of the treking guys. Her weekend was a world away; filled with lounging by the Grand Hyatt pool, sipping cocktails, watching 'Biographies of Supermodels' and relaxing. Sadly, where she had hoped to get a manicure and pedicure had no available appointments - should teach her to pre-plan. No debate here on the smartest gender.

We are very excited to be getting our first visitor from home. Tish arrives next week and we are going to take him to Dubai and out to camp in the sand dunes near our place. Should be great and for those of your that know Tish, it will be full of ridiculousness.

Thanks again for the many notes that you have passed on and the mail we've received.

Eid Mubarak!

“I like this place, and willingly could waste my time in it” – William Shakespeare

In our last entry we quickly tried to explain the Ramadan holiday in Oman. At the end of the month-long fasting period comes a holiday called Eid ul-Fitr. This is a brief period of family time and feasts to rejoice the end of Ramadan. The Sultan here decided to extend the holiday time to a week for all private workers and we took our cue and headed off camping with two Dutch friends and their visiting family members.

They had heard of a beautiful place called “Bar Al Hickman” that’s a little peninsula that juts off the east coast in the center of the country. Armed with directions from 2001 that consisted of “drive through a village till you see a cluster of trees, then head south across the desert until you hit the water”. Filled with doubt about these “insightful tips” we followed them and it was spectacular. 7 hours after starting out we hit the cluster of trees and got out our compass and drove through hard sand, soft sand, salt flats and small dunes until we saw the turquoise water and white sand beaches of our destination.

We spent three days in our chosen site with the vast desert behind us and the beautiful ocean water in front of us. Our interactions consisted of Pink Flamingos in the sky and in the water, Giant Turtles swimming in the water and Camels lumbering around our tents. Although the cyclone of last summer hit the area hard there were few remnants of damage, except for a fridge that was somehow plopped down in the middle of the sandy desert. Truly ironic as our cooler quickly ran out of cold we started eating foods of questionable quality towards the end our trip.

A hard life spent snorkelling, swimming, laying on the beach, playing desert bocce, star gazing, and enjoying our friends company. Alas, the week had to end and we got back on the long journey back the Muscat. Roads here in Oman are never dull as they are filled with goats, camels, wandering locals, racing cars, and over stuffed expats vehicles. The mixture of all of these keeps the entertainment comedic and is fodder for easy conversation.

As we head back to work we wanted to pass along our best to our family and friends and thank you for the emails and comments you’ve sent us.

“Eid Mubarak”

Heroes in a half shell

We turtles don't know the meaning of the word 'defeat'.
-Leonardo (intellectual leader of TMNT)

"Tonight, I dine on Turtle Soup"

-Shredder

For the previous month here in Oman, and for Muslims around the world, it has been the holy month of Ramadan. Most stores are closed during the day, business runs painfully slowly and the streets are relatively empty as all devout Muslims abstain from food and drinks from sunrise to sunset. In Oman, it is illegal for anyone to be seen eating or drinking (Tina’s midday bake sale in front of the nursery school across the street was in poor, poor taste indeed).Through this time we have tried to get out of town as much as possible and take in the natural beauty of the country.

Oman possesses one of the largest sites of migrating giant turtles in the world. Since both of us being massive Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fans we loaded up the car and migrated. A violent hurricane (cyclone here) hit the area last summer and we couldn’t get any news on the current conditions of roads or infrastructure. So in our infinite wisdom we shrugged our shoulders and drove. Travelling through dirt roads, around construction vehicles, sign-less routes and having no experience we were soon doubting our “wisdom”. We emerged on a newly paved dual carriageway with no lines or signs, that failed to appear on any of our maps. In this country where the labour speaks Hindi, the bosses speak Arabic and we speak English everyone just kept smiling and waving. We can’t understand each other at all but at the very least it was pleasant.

The road wound beautifully through coastal villages lined in tourquise water, by palm filed wadis, around roaming camels and dropped us off into the beautifully barren landscape of our destination. – Ras Al Jinz . Ras Al Jinz is home to over 20,000 migrating Turtles per year. The Giant turtles emerge from the sea in the middle of the night and haul their huge bodies (as big as 160 kg!) onto the beach and lay between 60 – 140 eggs at a time. They then spend the rest of the night digging a separate large hole in the ground to trick the birds, foxes and crabs that prey on the baby turtles. We camped beside the beach and watched them late at night as they crawled along the beach. We estimated 25-35 of these plodding creatures visited the beach through the night. (As a side note we didn’t see a single Hare challenging any of them to a “rematch”). At sunrise they were crawling out of the holes they created and “speeding” towards the crashing surf with baby turtles hurrying to reach the water.

On our way back up the coastal road we pulled over to speak with an old Omani man on the side of the dusty road. We was walking to a town that was a 2 hour drive from there. We exchanged smiles (a quick exchange as he had precious few teeth) he climbed in the car and gave us a tour of the coast – the extent of his “English” was town names and “this” as he pointed the way. In exchange for his help we exposed him to an array of music including Nellie Furtado and the Pussy Cat Dolls. We have cemented our place in an unfavourable afterlife I am sure. I may have seen a hint of a “cabbage patch” and “running man” combination in the rear view mirror but sadly I lacked the Arabic skills to ask him for any pointers.

We hope you enjoy the pictures and to all of you in Canada, Happy Thanksgiving. We’ll eat an extra Shwarma for you on Sunday.... after sunset of course.