Trip report: Middle East 2009

Border controlgrrrrrrrrmmmmbbbbllll…

I am glad we make it to the Syrian border before sunset, but the happynes quickly turns into impatience and frustration. The customs paperwork drives me nuts. Pushing and pulling during two hours to work my way through the crowd to the next counter to connect yet the next stamp. I cant remember how many people I needed a stamp from or had to pay inofficial money or had to ask something but they were a whole lot and all that in one and the same building. Finally we get to ride into Syria… in the dark… And Syrians aren’t really the most traffic friendly people of the northern hemisphere, believe me. We got that panicking feeling over us more than a few times when yet another truck made an unforeseen movement.
It is late already when in the middle of a crossroad I dig for my old mini laptop in order to consult my digital lonely planet. All of a sudden we’re drawing loads of attention. People gather around us and one kindly but promptly informs if we’re indeed married. But as soon as we show our fake rings, everything seems to be ok: we’re no longer seen as major sinners.

Aleppo

Treasures in the desert

A major section of the road to the south runs through the desert. Because of the speed we are making, the heat is more or less bearable, but it feels like being in a fan assisted oven. Maybe we didn’t chose the right season after all? One has to make a choice somewhere… Along the road we get to know the true hospitality of teh Syrian rural population. The men are very helpful and it’s pretty obvious they are interested in the big motorbikes. They consider it as an honor if you drink tea with them and gesture language helps us a fair bit in something that with a little bit of imagination starts to look like a premature conversation. Unlike European languages that at least contain some parts that can be more or less understood, this Arabic language is just… well … Chinese…

Merkins, whatever… Palmyra!

Cooked or fried?

From Palmyra we head further south over sealed road and again we are about taken hostage at the Syrian border where Kafka rules. We finally arrive in Amman, the capital of Jordan, via dark, shiny and slippery roads without any markings. This place is seems a hotbed for bugs and as we stop to read the map, I realize myself we are next to a pile of waste bags that is infested by king size cockroaches. There seem thousands of them and they run around at speeds you can hardly imagine. The map goes under my bum and I open up the throttle as I shiver with the idea of one of them creatures running up my boots … brrrrrr. Amman will just be a place to spend the night, nothing more, and tomorrow we want to get moving as soon as possible.

No, today we’re not there yet…

We had hoped to finish the ride to Petra today but what seemed to be a relatively feasible trip on the map, turned out to be an endlessly winding road. It was a lovely ride though, especially at higher altitude and thus lower temperatures. The view is superb, but it is getting pretty late already, also due to again a flat front on Caro’s bike and the typical local gathering that is organized at such an exceptional event. We decide to spend the night in the Dana Natural Reserve and as we are looking for a hotel, we end up in the middle of nowhere. Caro just cannot take it anymore right now. She is exhausted and we decide that I will continue on my own from there over the gravel piste. It’s a shame I have to refuse the invitation of a group of friendly Jordans who camp in the wild and have a huge pot of delicious stew on a bonfire and offer me a chichi and a meal with them. I really feel like staying with them but I kindly refuse their offer and return to Caro to find something more convenient to spend the night, with a hot shower and some good food. By 11 PM, a delicious hot meal is served in a little hotel in the center of the village of Dana and then we hurry to bed.
It’s only in the morning that we realize the beauty of the environment we got into. This is Jordan’s biggest natural reserve on the crossing of 4 bio-geographic zones. Sandstone erosion has formed bizarrely shaped cliffs with the desert in the background. Truly impressive!
We really want to make it to Petra today and as usual we leave a little on the late side. But the distance is peanuts and feasible. At least if I don’t get another flat. I think Tom has had it with them flats. As we are back on the road, after having lost precious time again, we meet one of the few Jordans that speak perfect English. He looks doubtful as we tell him we want to make it to Petra before the night and advises us to stop in Dana. He assures us it is more than worth the stop, but now it’s Tom turn to look doubtful. He wants to get to Petra!
We ride along the lovely twisties: pretty tiring but really fun… until it gets dark! I can hardly see anything and just relying on Tom’s rear light is tricky and in fact also exhausting. The last few couple of days have been pretty demanding. All of a sudden we see an arrow pointing us the way to the natural reserve. We leave the road which means the end of that last little bit of light, and end up on a small gravel road. This is already not really my cup of tea, especially not in the dark and in the state I am in right now. We decide that Tom will continue on his own looking for a place to sleep. I will wait for him, in the dark.
Tom leaves and as I see his rear light going further and further, I am overwhelmed by a sudden fear. I am scared, really really scared. Except the stars you cannot see anything here. Nothing, nada, rien! It’s just black, plain black! I hear dogs screaming in the distance, or maybe they’re wolves? It seems to me the sound of these animals is nearing more%2E%2E& and more%2E%2E& and even more. Holy shit!
My fantasy is driving me nuts. I have visions of starving wolves devouring my body. I see an image of Tom who only finds a skeleton on the place he left me and needs to identify me by the teeth. And I haven’t brushed them since this morning! I am more than relieved as I see a headlight in the distance, hours later (or maby only just half an hour%2E%2E%). As a total nutcase I started blinking my headlight until he is at one meter away from me. What a relief! He has found me back alive.

Petra at last

And now… back!

Riding to Petra is one thing, but now we have to get back home as well. And we have already spent 17 days of our 4 weeks. It becomes clear that we cannot afford to dawdle. We try to keep a good pace and opt for the main road across the desert to ride back to the Syrian border. I try to make sure we have a couple of spare days at the end of the trip to recover somewhat on a sunny Greek island, so I want to get as far as possible today.
Again the border crossing into Syria couldn’t really be called smooth. There seems to be some military muppet full of stars telling me he wants proof that Caro and I are married. Again I show him our fake wedding rings but this time they want a written proof. I try to explain that document is in Belgium and as he asks where Belgium is, I just tell him ‘veeeeeeeeeeeery far away’. No friendly smile this time but a very doubtful look. I have to go explain my case with the big moufti with even more stars, but the language barrier and the fact that even I don’t understand what the meaning of this all is, leads to a Babylonian confusion. I have the impression he wants me to pay, but I pretend not to understand. He gets irritated and makes gestures that I have to go … Back to the counter, queuing up, pushing, pulling to get a good position and hopefully be able to explain that even the big chief has no solution. After half an hour, with an attitude of ‘whatever makes you happy’ and without even looking at the documents, the assistant moufti puts 3 stamps on our documents and derogatorily gesticulates I have to go away.

We ale flom China

So far so good, but in the meantime its getting dark again and we still have to get through the chaotic mess of Damascus where, as we stop to have dinner, we are THE attraction in town. Everyone rushes to his cellphone and in no time the cousin of the nephew of this friend’s mother in law’s brother and his entire family is working his way through the crowd to get a glimpse of us and the bikes. It’s getting all a bit too crowded for us but at the same time we see the funny side of it all. Where we come from? China! What is? (pointing at our camelbaks) Whisky! One guy lively explains to the rest of the crowd how crazy we are and he tries to explain us whisky might be socially accepted in China, but not so here in Syria and certainly not in traffic! We had a good laugh and a bit later we say goodbuy because we want to make it to China tonight. One guy looks a bit doubtful but the rest waves at us enthusiastically without asking any questions. A couple of 100 kms more in the dark and then it%22s time for some sleep.
A little H on the map turns out to be a, to Syrian standards, exclusive luxury hotel: 85 EUR for a room??? One week ago we paid this amount for a whole week! But we’re running out of time and fatigue has struck us both. We have no choice but paying for the room, but it doesn’t feel comfortable at all …

Krak