I think I'm a city girl. The natural Fairy Chimneys in Capadoccia (see pictures) are magnificent (if not overwhelmingly phallic!), but every time I arrive in a new city I a get a rush of excitment.
Crossing into Syria was an amazing process - a group of four of us piled into the back of a miniscule taxi and were driven to the border, where it must have taken an hour to get through - two passport controls, lots of questioning about why we wanted to visit, where we were planning to go on the trip, etc. Once we drove into Syria, the landscape transformed before our eyes. Not only does it appear much more arid and desertlike, it is obvious that Syria is a bit behind on environmental policy. The streets are littered with garbage, and the Syrian people seem to have no qualms with throwing their plastic bags, water bottles, cigarette packets, out into the road. However, they make up for their lack of environmental awareness with their amazing kindness. Grown men wave and smile at us as we walk by, saying "Welcome to Syria." Children love to practice their English, and urge me to take pictures of them. Yesterday, as I was strolling by the citadel, a little boy ran over and grabbed my hand, escorting me to his family where he wanted his photo taken. I am truly in awe of the constant joviality and courtesy here. It is contagious and I can't stop smiling.
On the other hand, Syria is much more conservative than Turkey. Women are generally covered, often with full burkas. My blonde hair does make me stand out as a tourist. Not in a bad way though, it just means that people here are more willing to converse and smile at me, recognizing and appreciating a foreigner in their country. In Turkey the shopkeepers assaulted tourists with their wares, often making it difficult to wander through the bazaars, here they allow visitors to admire their products without feeling harrassed. I feel very safe here.
Interestingly, Syria has blocked many websites - apparently Facebook, Youtube, Hotmail, among other sites, are all inaccesible. This doesn't stop us from getting all of them at the local internet cafe, where it cost 25 Syrian Pounds (the equivalent of 50 cents) to connect for an hour. Everything is amazingly cheap here (thank goodness, I've got a lot of making up to do for excess spending in Turkey). My hostel only costs $10 a night, and it only gets cheaper as I leave Aleppo for the more remote regions of the country.
Once again, I have fallen in with a group of fellow travelers. Dries, a Belgian, is following the Crusade routes, mostly on foot, from his hometown to Jerusalem. Once he has "captured the city," crossing about 8000K with the smallest pack I have ever seen. We have disucssed our enjoyment of traveling independently. Quoting a fellow backpacker, "travel is the ultimate freedom." No other time will I have no deadlines to meet, nothing to appease but my own will. It's only more fortuitous when you meet other people you like who have similar goals and aspirations. Lives run parallel for a while.
Crossing into Syria was an amazing process - a group of four of us piled into the back of a miniscule taxi and were driven to the border, where it must have taken an hour to get through - two passport controls, lots of questioning about why we wanted to visit, where we were planning to go on the trip, etc. Once we drove into Syria, the landscape transformed before our eyes. Not only does it appear much more arid and desertlike, it is obvious that Syria is a bit behind on environmental policy. The streets are littered with garbage, and the Syrian people seem to have no qualms with throwing their plastic bags, water bottles, cigarette packets, out into the road. However, they make up for their lack of environmental awareness with their amazing kindness. Grown men wave and smile at us as we walk by, saying "Welcome to Syria." Children love to practice their English, and urge me to take pictures of them. Yesterday, as I was strolling by the citadel, a little boy ran over and grabbed my hand, escorting me to his family where he wanted his photo taken. I am truly in awe of the constant joviality and courtesy here. It is contagious and I can't stop smiling.
On the other hand, Syria is much more conservative than Turkey. Women are generally covered, often with full burkas. My blonde hair does make me stand out as a tourist. Not in a bad way though, it just means that people here are more willing to converse and smile at me, recognizing and appreciating a foreigner in their country. In Turkey the shopkeepers assaulted tourists with their wares, often making it difficult to wander through the bazaars, here they allow visitors to admire their products without feeling harrassed. I feel very safe here.
Interestingly, Syria has blocked many websites - apparently Facebook, Youtube, Hotmail, among other sites, are all inaccesible. This doesn't stop us from getting all of them at the local internet cafe, where it cost 25 Syrian Pounds (the equivalent of 50 cents) to connect for an hour. Everything is amazingly cheap here (thank goodness, I've got a lot of making up to do for excess spending in Turkey). My hostel only costs $10 a night, and it only gets cheaper as I leave Aleppo for the more remote regions of the country.
Once again, I have fallen in with a group of fellow travelers. Dries, a Belgian, is following the Crusade routes, mostly on foot, from his hometown to Jerusalem. Once he has "captured the city," crossing about 8000K with the smallest pack I have ever seen. We have disucssed our enjoyment of traveling independently. Quoting a fellow backpacker, "travel is the ultimate freedom." No other time will I have no deadlines to meet, nothing to appease but my own will. It's only more fortuitous when you meet other people you like who have similar goals and aspirations. Lives run parallel for a while.
Mike and Pete, graduates from UCL, are following a similar route to my own. It is hard to leave people behind though. I find I am missing people I only met for a few days, and I know it will only get more difficult. I have spoken often with hostel owners of their experiences - encountering huge numbers of people only to see them move on a day or so later. I think it must be a difficult life, but they all seem to thrive on the energy and excitment of brief connection. I don't think I could live with these short meetings on such a consistent basis. I find myself missing people I met in Selcuk, Istanbul, and Capadoccia already. Travel is full of tearful little goodbyes and reminiscence.
Much love and hugs to all!
Much love and hugs to all!