Towards Damascus

I didn’t get more than 4-5 hours of sleep at night ever since I left home and morning wakeups were becoming a tough moment, probably the worst of the day for a big sleeper like me!

Despite 3 alerts (one by the hotel reception and 2 on my cell phone), I woke up only 10 minutes before the scheduled departure time and still can’t figure out how I managed to join the team on time! I guess it was the excitement of visiting Damascus…

We reached Jabal Qassioun, a mountain overlooking the city, early in the morning and started our cycling journey from there. The weather was perfect: hot and dry, just like Fez, the city where I grew up and I felt a bit sorry for my northern cycling mates, used to much milder weathers ;-)

The first thing that calls the attention of any visitor in Syria is the overwhelming presence of President Bashar El Assad’s portraits, which are often accompanied by his father Hafez’s. It stroke me the first time I visited the country, 4 years back, and though I noticed that there were a bit less portraits of the father this time, Bashar’s presence in the public space was still very strong. Bashar in military uniform, Bashar in modern suit, Bashar glad-handing crowds, Bashar in huge posters, Bashar’s pictures in taxis, buses and random cars’ windows…Bashar and Bashar and Bashar…Bashar everywhere…Welcome to the Baath regime!

An other striking thing was people’s attitude towards us, as we reached the small villages close to the city. While women and men alike would spontaneously wave to us or come to greet us in Lebanon, in Syria they stood far from the road, watching our bikes’ convoy with curiosity but without getting close and seldom waving to us. There were practically no women outside and the very few that we saw stood in separate groups, often behind men, and with the same reserve. Of course, a group of 250 foreign women cycling wasn’t something common in this region but while Lebanese people took the opportunity to come and talk to us, Syrians just stayed well away, which I figured illustrated perfectly the impact of totalitarian regimes on people’s attitudes and behaviour.
Everything new or unusual seemed suspect (feared?) and people’s natural spontaneity was lost.

It was a very pleasant ride though, mostly through down hills (which gave a little break to my exhausted calves) and we seemed to play hide-and-seek with Damascus, expecting her to appear behind every bend. But Lady Damascus is a typical Arab woman :-) She likes to play the hard to get and appeared after she let us long for her, unexpectedly but majestically, lying on a large plateau on river Barada’s south bank and sheltered by Anti-Lebanon Mountains...