The Hell of Lattakia

There is this amazing city in the north-west of Syria: unspoiled beaches, a more liberal atmosphere and hardly any tourists, or so we were told by the Dutch institute. In retrospect, we should have been able to tell that this idyllic, calm and clean place cant really exist in Syria. What we couldn't have foretold is that it turned out to be a nightmare.

After a bus trip and the most expensive / short minibus ride experienced so far, we arrived at the beach chalets. They were less chalet-like and beachy than expected (no beach in sight). This did not spoil the fun however, as much as the price did: instead of a set price, the owner opened negotiations.

This is were many of us had it: we are no tourists you can rip off easily. The more advanced contingent opened a full blown counter-attack of complaints and negotiations in a style that had clearly been adopted somewhere on a hot Moroccan day. Turned out that this style is not universally applicable: we spend the night in an overpriced, crappy room, far away from the dirty sea.

Determined to turn things around, we decided to stay in Lattakia and make the best of the city, as most fled to Aleppo. Visiting Wadi Qanjeel and a stunning Qalahat Sala'adin, we recovered slowly. However, the absolute highlight of the weekend might have been a restaurant with the stunning menu of humus, humus and more humus. Directed there by the travel police, we were probably were the first non-Lattakians to ever set foot here. The meal was better than anything the Lonely Planet had guided us to so far.

---

---