Aleppo

I couldn’t imagine how tough it would’ve been to attack this place? Surrounded by a forest of trees and sitting atop a ridge that falls away to ravines. This castles prime location is the reason it never changed hands. As I walked up the stairs to the Gate Tower, out of breath I joked. “Shit! Can you imagine trying to attack this place? It would have been like… (Hiding behind a tree, arrows flying past. Wheezing,) “hhhhhhh oh ok ok hhhh hang on fellas! Ohhh hhhhh… just give us a minute. (Hunched over, hands on knees) Hhhh hhhhh oh shit… hhhh oh thanks for that. Okay, you guys ready (up there)? Lets go!”

As I reached the top of Qala’at Salah ad-Din, (a place chosen for its location between the port city of Lattakia and Aleppo) I was greeted by the ticket booth guy. He was a nice man who asked firstly ‘Is your wife tired?’ I was puzzled for a second, than it clicked. “Hey honey are you tired” Annina responded, “No I’m fine” The ticket man than, pointed out “Ah that is a shame. If she was, than you would have to marry a Syrian women.”

It has taken over 3 and half journeys to travel with an independent female traveller for longer than a couple of days and it happened here in Syria… Unbelievable! I met Annina a German speaking Swiss at the bus stop near the Turkish border. From there we’d spend the next 12 days or so discovering one of the worlds truly great travel destinations.

When we first arrived in Aleppo I couldn’t help but make comparisons to Iran. Since Syria is on the travellers map, they are more accepting of western customs and it was not necessary for us to say we were married to get a room at a hotel. It was also not necessary for Annina to wear a headscarf although that did create a problem later on.

When we went for our first walk around the city we looked at our map to see where we were and within 10 seconds people were there to help. But unlike Iran the conversations are short, helpful and when the meaning of the conversation is done they are on their way. If someone’s English is no good then they would say, “Hello! Welcome! Where are you from?” “Australia” I’d responded “Ah okay your welcome. Welcome to my country. Welcome.” So it’s hard in Syria to not feel… well… Welcome.

As we walked around we hit the old city, which is UNESCO listed. There, near the soap collections a man yelled out “Hey are you Australian?” The thongs are a dead give away. “Pauline Hansen! One Nation Party!” And he kept at it as I walked though the narrow souk streets. Another man who would later direct us to the bottle shop so we could pick up some wine started quoting off stats of our budget for the war. A conversation I stood clear of, as I don’t have statistical proof to create an argument for or against.

Around midday we went to the Grand mosque. Its Minaret has stayed the same since it was built in 1090-1092. Inside is an open courtyard with its sandy coloured tiles and black square designs. In the full sun it can be hot for the bare feet but that is never a problem at a mosque. I have always wanted to try out the whole washing feet, hands and the arms at the mosque bubblers and here I did it.
Whilst I washed, men were inside preying and women were wearing mostly black and looking after their children running around. Annina and every other female tourist were wearing an abeyya (brown hooded cloak). Once I finished washing I sat to a corner with Annina and these 2 Dutch guys. Annina’s hood slipped, slightly revealing some hair and was told by a caretaker to put her hood back on. Later I said “Really I should have put my foot down and yelled at you. You really embarrassed me and the 2 Dutch guys out there.” Tongue and cheek obviously.

At nights after a bottle of wine, there is not too much to do (unless you go to an underground nightclub with prostitutes I later heard. Actually at the border crossing a Kazakh woman was getting questioned pretty hard by border officials). We were staying on Tire Street, a street of tire fitters and bits and pieces. Near there is the Baron Hotel. An old run down hotel that has a bar and old décor that was around when it began. Sitting at the bar drinking, a slight lean on it and it would move the bar forward almost to braking point.

The Baron Hotel (Built: 1909-11) was one of the premier hotels in the Middle East with guests such as Theodore Roosevelt, Charles Kingsford Smith and TE Lawrence. It’s now a cheap hotel where no one with any pompous class would think of going to unless they are history buff freaks. Instead it’s an affordable option for anyone to get a glimpse of what high society was… well kind of. Not sure if carrots and peanuts was the caviar back then?

The main landmark that stands out like a sore thumb is the Citadel. Perched on a mound overlooking the souk and the city beyond it - It’s entrance is its main feature. The doors positioned to its right with a long arching bridge over the moat, meaning the door can’t be charged. Walking through the entrance and its soon clear that Syrian castles will bring out the child in me. It took only 2 days for Annina to say that I am like a child sometimes.

I was leaping up the stairs on the odd occasions. Hopping down. Walking making 90 degree turns through the lane way to the rest of the castle. Exploring the crevasses, seeing the design to create the best defence. As you walk through from level to level you can let your imagination take over. Imagining a battle progressing through the castle; the arrows through the tiny slits in the thick stoned walls; the tiny gaps in the ceiling or floor to pounce on passers by. This entry had foresight for the imagination. But once you get through the defensive wall it dies off to not much until you get to the edges of the castle walls for brilliant views of Aleppo. A city in comparison to the boring port city of Latakia as very conservative.

Women were walking around with the full chador. Iran was not like this - not on a large scale. This is the eyes squinting through the tiny slits of black fabric to the fully covered. And travelling around with a western woman whilst all this was going on was a new experience for me. Something that I appreciated more so as it complimented well with my solo Iran trip. Despite the feeling that people were more hesitant towards me as we were in their eyes ‘a couple,’ it didn’t diminish the experience. Although maybe for Annina who got invites left right and centre when ‘I’ let her off her leash so I could go to a Hammam (spa). To me Syrian Hammam’s are a lesser experience to the Turkish bath and a bit dirtier. Maybe because I got mine from an old man smoking a wet dirty cigarette. Or maybe it was because he almost scrapped off my penis during the scrub - Whhooooaa!

This was just some of many interesting sights that Syria will put up. It is a castle lover’s paradise where eventually I’d have enough, especially Shayzar castle which was just that… Shit. But the meeting up with Annina gave me a chance to capture something that I could never experience - what it is like being a female travelling here. Can it be harder to travel around with a female tagging along?… Actually she had a guidebook so it was the other way around. The sights as well as thinking about the other gender for simple things like where to eat, where to sit on a bus. This is what gave the experience a difference and in a way made it more enjoyable.

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