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Mandaloun Hotel
an old Ottoman house We caught a 5 PM bus from Antalya to Iskenderun, a Turkish city near the Syrian border. The bus ride was 12 hours long and winded its way through mountain roads now familiar to us (see "The longest Mile"). This time we had a better chance to see the precipice that the road teetered upon from the comfort of a luxury coach bus. Turkish buses have a cabin crew, 2 drivers and a steward who serves drinks and snacks. As night fell, the full moon reflected off the Mediterranean ocean in a shimmer of light, adding to the abyss effect we felt every time we looked out the window.
Twice, the bus was stopped by the Jandarma, the military police that patrol the countryside. They boarded and all the passengers reached for their government ID. I produced our passports and on both occasions the officer simply looked at our pictures and handed them back, despite collecting everyone else's ID with him and disappearing for 20 minutes to perform a computer check, I presume.
The bus rolled into Iskenderun at 0530 at which time I called my dad's cousin (Salim) who picked us up immediately from the bus station. My
initial impression of this part of Turkey (Hatay Province) was that it was a lot poorer than the other regions we had visited. Hatay was part of the French Administered Syrian nation until 1939 when it was handed over to Turkey. Many Syrians still consider it to be part of Syria.
Once we arrived at Salim's, we went to bed for 5 or 6 hours. Neither of us had gotten any meaningful sleep on the bus. When we awoke, we had breakfast and Salim took us for a drive to a "resort" town. Really not much to it, older homes, many of which looked abandoned but weren't and everywhere you looked, garbage. The garbage theme was recurrent in this area of Turkey. On our second day there, we were taken to the World's first church, established by the Apostle Peter himself and built into a cave. We then visited the seaside town of Samandag, my father's birthplace and the place my grandmother was laid to rest. Salim was apparently quite proud to have such exotic visitors, as he also took it upon himself to parade us before relatives, each having a seemingly further connection to me than the last.
Souks
Aleppo Bazaar Initially it was interesting but grew tiresome, especially considering that I could not communicate with anyone other than Salim who spoke some German. Erin was really out of luck as she could not communicate with anyone at all. She did have a moment of joy when one of my distant cousin's produced a pair of sheep and she played with them.
Later we drove by the beaches and Erin and I were both saddened to see what state this beautiful coastline had been reduced too. The entire length of sandy beach was covered in garbage: plastic bags, diapers and full garbage bags lined the coastline that once stood as a pristine beach.
On Wednesday we departed for Syria. We took a cab across the border which was 45 km from where we were. The border crossing took about one hour; passports were checked 4 times by authorities from both countries. Another half hour and we were at our hotel in Aleppo. We had barely gotten into the room and the phone rang, it was the nephew of my father's cousin calling to welcome us and invite us over. As it turns out, they lived a few blocks from
street scenes
never paid more than 50 cents for a cab ride the hotel.
After taking a moment to cool down (34 degrees on arrival) we met with Michel and his family. They were very nice people. Michel has a cousin (Nour) who speaks pretty good English and a sister, Rima who speaks near perfect English. This thrilled Erin who spent a few days chatting with the girls about life in the Middle East. Michel also had a good command of the English language and turned out to be a valuable asset to us. He even lent us a SIM card as our Turkcell phone no longer worked. The following morning, we met Michel and his sister and headed for the old city and the Citadel. The sun was blazing hot nearing 40 degrees. Unfortunately, my camera batteries decided to kick the bucket while touring the Citadel so I had to rely on Michel for snapshots. The old city was remarkably devoid of tourists. Initially we noticed the stares directed at our white pasty skin, we were indeed a novelty act here. You do get used to it though. The crowds were a strange mix of new and old as modern Syrian girls walked about in Jeans and tank tops along
lahmajoun
Arab pizza also Turkish pizza depending on who you talk to side women clad in black Burkas and men wearing Galabias. After touring the Citadel, whose history spans 4 millennia and a succession of Empires, who each built on to her, we headed for the relative calm and coolness of the medieval Souks (markets). Much less crowded and touristy than their Istanbul counterparts, the Souks of Aleppo are however much more exotic, featuring every possible part of a sheep you could imagine prominently displayed for sale to everyday Allepians.
By 2:00 PM, we were wiped, and it would seem that many locals feel the same as a large chunk of the city heads for a mid afternoon siesta around that time. We first had a large lunch at my dad's cousin's home than retreated to our air conditioned hotel room for some rest.
Later, the 3 "kids" took us out to a popular eatery called Al-Roof (on the roof of a building) for some dessert and Nargilah (waterpipe). We both tried the strawberry flavoured tobacco but it was not really our thing, despite being an Arab tradition for centuries.
On Friday morning, we picked up our rental car and Michel led us out of the city. We set
a heading for Palmyra, an ancient desert city near the Iraqi border (when I say near a mean 150 km or so)...
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Colin and Gail
non-member comment
Interesting!
Beth sent on the blog bit. We're enjoying it particularly the Syrian part. This is a trip we missed coupled with Jordan two years ago. You are fortunate to have family show you the real deal. Gail