After a fairly late start to the morning (having just one beer before bed made it ridiculously difficult to get up the following morning) we shuffled out of Hassan's little brothers room which we had left clean as per his request. The previous evening he showed us to the bedroom asking us to 'keep it clean' not quite understanding what he was getting at we assured him that we would use our sleeping sacks on the bed, but no, he meant we should prevent any potential spillages of love juice. Nice. It was far too hot and we were too tired for any action so he didn't have to worry after all.
Feras was waiting in the kitchen having brought over breakfast for all of us, a very generous gesture, and we ate together in the kitchen. That said, I wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of another day with him in tow. The subject of Feras not having too much ready money came up and was the perfect opportunity to be at least a little generous after being so stingy yesterday. We gave him more than enough money for breakfast and in doing so assuaged some of the guilt I was feeling about thinking such mean thoughts, it also offset any obligation I might have felt if he decided to come with us (I still didn't want his company if I could help it). After getting our stuff sorted for the day we all left just before 12pm and headed our separate ways, sort of. While Hassan flagged down a bus to go to work, and sure enough when I turned to look back to see if we had any company, Feras was there. We walked for a bit before reaching a point where he started off in a different direction to the one we were going in, to the tourist office, perfect – after a firm stand in the face of 'but I have lots of free time, it's no problem' we said thanks but we would rather be by ourselves and left on friendly terms.
Feeling much lighter we headed down the hill into the city and after stopping off at the pastry shop we visited the previous day and stocking up on some more pistachio/filo loveliness we decided to forgo some sightseeing for the time being and find a cool café to sit and wile away the hot afternoon hours. We went back to the same café as the previous day, we are nothing if not creatures of habit, and flopped down on the same seats and proceeded to spend the next four hours on the internet uploading blog entries, playing (and winning) connect four, sleeping and reading. Feeling much refreshed but hungry, Djalma popped to a food stand outside and picked us up some Arabic pizzas one with juicy tomato sauce and mozzarella (granted it sounds more Italian) and the other with crushed thyme and sesame seeds, both were hot and utterly gorgeous. Rested and fed we got started on old Damascus again, we got lost quite a few times but we found our way back to Omayyad Mosque, the most important and one of the oldest Mosques in the world, and had a blackberry crush to keep us going.
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| From Damascus, Syria |
We wandered the streets and the souq going through loads of crowded small alleys packed with shops and people, we took dozens of photos, my new toy proving to be more and more fun with each passing hour. Djalma left me in one spot for a few minutes and just when I was starting to get anxious he reappeared with some very welcome treats in hand, traditional Syrian ice-cream, we had to chow it down pretty damn quickly because it was dripping all over the place – chopped nuts and vanilla slush snaking down the cone and our hands while our mouths worked feverishly to stem the flow. My favourite kind of work – ice-cream eating.
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| From Damascus, Syria |
We wandered through the souq some more trying to find our way out, the whole place was humming with people and in the end it felt a little bit claustrophobic, especially after watching a young girl getting smacked round the head by her Mother after playing with her little brother and getting in the way, not very nice.
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| From Damascus, Syria |
We found and internet café to arrange going back to Hassan's place and rest our weary feet. After confirming that he was indeed home, we began an arduous search for the minibus up to the square near his house. It took seven or eight tries before we got the right bus, many of the drivers shaking their head, when we gave them the address, because they didn't understand and not because it wasn't on their route. We did eventually make it back and Feras was there smoking a sheesha with Hassan, he stayed and we all chatted for a while until midnight when he left. Soon after that another guy who had stuff in Hassan's room came round to organise and collect it, we sat round and watched an American comedian and then started getting ready for bed for our big trip the next day. Lebanon here we come!
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| From Damascus, Syria |
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