One of the young guys working in a tourist restaurant next door spied us mounting our bikes to depart, and out of intrigue and an inherent desire to be hospitable invited us inside and gave us breakfast. His name is Hasan, and his dream in life is to become an actor and performer in Damascus. He has been living in the capital two years, attending university, and working here at his cousin's mataab during breaks. We wished him well, hoping he will find his opportunity, then said our goodbyes as we hit the long desert highway.
Hope to see Hasan on TV someday...
The road heading back toward Dimashq (434km), passes the ruins of Tudmor (Palmyra), stretching through an empty, desolate desert. Nothing of asthetic pleasure, not even Bedouins or villages.
So close! And yet so far...
Clearly camping takes its toll...
After a few hours of joyriding, knowing full well we could not complete the 250 km to Palmyra alone, we caught a lift with a truck, the driver heading to a phosphate quarry downroute. He spoke perfect English, offering to take us the rest of the way if only we could wait 3 or so hours for him to finish his day's task. We moved on, quickly catching a lift in an overstuffed sheep truck with an old man and his son. The sheep are split between a lower and upper deck; our bikes rode forefront above the cab while our bags unwisely got piled in with the sheep. My panniers were returned covered in sheep poop, along with poop encrusted sandals.
Riding in style
Palmyra (Tudmor) is an enormous city full of Roman ruins, which flourished in the harsh desert from 2000 BC until about 300 AD (though wasn't really abandoned until the 16th century). For two millenia it flourished as a central Mesopotamian trade route, later linking goods and cultures between the Mediterranean and Persian empires.
Arches of Palymra
In the third century BC Palmyra became a Greco-Roman caravan outpost; a wealthy city surrounded by lush palm oasese that helped transport Phoenician goods inland and Persian goods out to the sea. The Romans greatly expanded the town's architectural grandeur, erecting long colonnaded streets linking the Temple to a courthouse, agoras, and many other public buildings. The (Hellenistic) Temple of Ba'al was reconstructed into a large shrine, perhaps one of the largest in the 1st Century.
Main street meets Wall street of ancient times
On a steep hill overlooking the city sits the grand citadel, where the ruling class resided. This is where the infamous Queen Zenobia ruled over Palmyra, having taken control on behalf of her son, and expanding the short-lived Palmyrene Empire as far west as Egypt and north into Asia Minor. Unfortunately Aurelion, the Roman emperor, had the city sacked and Zenobia was taken as prisoner to Rome in AD 272, where she was paraded through the streets in golden chains. Palmyra never got back on its feet, though stayed inhabited until at least the 16th century.
Palmyra citadel
Under the arches
South west of the city are a series of large desert tombs, at some point probably containing elaborate coffins and funerary decor. Now they are hollow and forgotten, excpet by curious travelers such as Chris, who insisted on hiking up into each of them for a view.
Mespotamian tombs
We stopped in town for some falafel, then biked into the open city in late afternoon, bitterly bumping along the badly cobble-stoned roads. The day was warm and sunny, allowing us to walk around a few hours before the sun set behind the tombs, illuminating the desert sky in pinks and purples.
Pillars, bikes, and a castle at twilight
We camped in the courner of the courthouse, which is mostly enclosed. An unexpected and bone chilling wind picked up at night (oh yeah its a desert huh), sending our tent flapping to and fro. Desert winds are harsh, and I'm pretty certain the ruins create low level wind tunnels that emphasize its ferocity.
Colonnaded street at night
Morning came soon enough, and we were the first people to start trapsing around the site. For good reason-- it was freezing! We layered on all our clothing, which isn't much because we planned to be further south by now and avoid the winter weather. At the end of the colonnaded street is the tetrapylon, then afterward a long field of rubble leading to the worn ampitheatre. We eventually found a crevice in the theatre with a wind block, where we waited out the intense wind.
Sunrise in the ruins!
Beautiful porticos (good for bike hiding!)
The ominous brick tombs in the background caught our curiosity, so Chris and I wandered toward the sandy necropolis. Their bodies are long gone, but spaces where coffins could be inserted full length can be seen still. While Chris climbed around I wandered down to a pack of camels parading through the valley, striking conversation with some men in charge. Mohammed, a young man from Homs, was talking with the bedouin about their camel, counting them for the national census. He explained to me that although they want him to report more camels than they have (that way they can get a gov't subsidy), he won't do this because if the overall census shows high numbers the government will have to mandate a slaughter or sell more to neighboring countries. Such a nice guy, and perfect English.
Camelscape in the Valley of Tombs
One of 22 females
On our way back to our bikes we were literally swept up by a bedouin man on a motorcycle, who had seen us the night before. He yelled Hey Americans! Come drink a tea with me! And in an instant we were on his bike cruising to a nearby palm cluster with his house compound underneath. He brought us into a cavelike pillow room where we sat drinking tea and watching arab music videos. At night he takes tourists on camels rides through the ruins, maybe he's bored during the day.
Restored roman stage
Having fully absorbed the spectacles of Palmyra, we relocated our bikes and slowly rode out the main street, passing under the richly carved decumanus (arched entryway) just as a busload of tourists arrived. As we were getting our bikes in order a series of tinted-windowed SUVs arrived, apparently the security squad for the Phillipino ambassador, who was visiting the ruins.
Super biking tourist (just before tour bus arrives)
So long Palmyra! We biked out of town, again stopping for a 15 pound falafel (roughly 30 cents US), then up a long winding hill into the desert. After an hour or so we called it quits and jumped in a passing truck, hoping to make it to Damascus. However, nothing ever really goes as planned....
Al Hamdulilah for falafel!
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