Woke up about 7, did what has become my morning routine of jogging in place for 10 minutes (it worked for Nelson Mandela); push ups; sit-ups; and chin ups using the sill of some weird storage compartment above my bathroom door. I do have a 10k to stay in shape for... as if jogging in place for 10 minutes at a time's really going to do anything for me... I had grand designs of jogging around the whole of Damascus, on up into the massive hills to the west overlooking it, taking in what I had imagined (and seen in a recent Nat'l Geographic) as a breath-taking, awe-inspiring view. Didn't happen. Maybe I would try running in this city, but at a much earlier hour, if this city ever sleeps, and when it isn't still pissing rain outside, and the tile sidewalks aren't a death trap for the ordinary pedestrian. I had less grand and more pragmatic designs of taking a cab up into those same hills and snapping some photos, but by now I really couldn't care less. I've got the issue of Nat'l Geographic (so do the rest of you if you want to back-order it); and I really, REALLY don't want to deal with another fucking taxi cab. I've got two more I've got to take- one out of this city and to the bus/taxi station (Al Sumariyeh); and one to Beirut. Even if I am armed now with a bit more knowledge vis-a-vis how to deal with them, I'm just done. I know this post will appear above all the previous ones, so in the interests of saving your time I'll just say that Damascus was mildly interesting, mostly grimey, and I'm glad to be leaving it. I've taken some good pictures. I'll have them. And the folks at my hotel were kind and helpful. The rest I'm happy to leave behind.
Handing your passport off to a taxi driver I guess is just part of the deal- not sure what they do with it, but it never gets any less nerve-wracking when you're standing outside his vehicle waiting what feels like an eternity for him to return with it. I imagine a US passport is a little blue piece of gold to anyone who wants one but can't have one. I really want mine back.
Luckily he reappears, and I pile into his Kia SUV with three other people and we're off- one Lebanese guy about my age or younger, good lookin feller-reminds me of me... and two Syrian women, one much older, and one my age... pretty. And she studied in the states. And spoke perfect English. And was very reassuring of everything. Quite a relief.
Another border crossing, the 3 obligatory stops. Took forever to get that Lebanese visa. They just sort of take their time. Of course I'm the guy my car is waiting on. And they only accept Lebanese Pounds. Luckily my driver changed a few bills for me.
The rest of the ride went fine- and was only SL 600 for my share of it- it may as well have been a ride in the family car... I was the only one who couldn't speak Arabic, but luckily I had a few translators. They got a kick out of my copy of "Arabic for Dummies," that I sorely wish I'd studied before I left. Not that I would've had anyone to practice with, except maybe for you, Dad, if you're reading... you might be the only one who would've been interested anyway... at the very least it demonstrated that I had at least intended, if not attempted, to try.
I really had no idea how high Syria, Jordan, or most of Lebanon are: Not much real estate in Lebanon anyway, and most of it is uphill, dangling off cliffs and mountain ledges. The Mediterranean ends where Beirut begins, and the mountains begin where Beirut used to end, and is sprawling upward. I really couldn't see much outside the windows of the car, and it's still raining hard even how at 8:30PM, so I haven't gotten outside to see much of it. The driver dropped me off close to the water, handed me off to another driver, and 20,000 Lebanese Pounds later (taken again?) I'm in my hotel. Maybe it's the salty sea air, maybe it's because I can email and text message all I want without fear of repercussion (I think... and I can't foresee going back to Syria anyway), maybe it's because I'm a day and a half from being done with this adventure that perhaps I should be sad and nostalgic about, but more than anything right now I'm just kind of relieved that I've made it this far with everything I brought with me-myself included- still in my posession and intact. It doesn't feel like home, and I'll be happy to be back in Dubai in a few days, and it's not to say that I haven't enjoyed and appreciated many things about the different places I've been, but I'm hoping maybe I can have a little bit of fun in the traditional sense here- go out, have a drink, maybe enjoy a crowd for a change. I don't care what I spend now.
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