The freedom of camping

Meeting fellow creative travellers and sharing experiences,
Like the German guy who resides in Iran and told us he had to replace his Arabic number plates for ones with European letters to enter Turkey,
In hostels and camp sites you share advice, get the lowdown on where to go and what to miss out,
Children meet friends easily around the pool
Every meal is eaten Al fresco
You catch up with your washing and tidy up your messy car
You sit around the table and play card games with your kids
You sleep early and rise with the sun
You answer continuous questions about where your car is from (a Qatari number plate is always a conversation starter)
And you find the nicest blogging spot
On the front lawn of a pension
Overlooking the beach
The waves crashing to the shore with their rhythmic melody.

Syria and its people

In restaurants, shops and on the streets they call to us ’Ahlan wa Sahlan’- you are welcome

Bicyclists, cars, boys carrying trays of bread, donkeys, men pushing trolleys full of goods all vie for space on the narrow streets whilst calling out to each other “Hi, how are you?” “How’s your health?” “How’s your family?”

Syrian sheep herders think nothing of guiding their goats in the fast lane of the highway- towards you!

Farmers drive their tractors on the hard shoulder and bicyclists zip across the highway to the adjacent village

Old ladies tell us melancholic tales of how they lost their family members when the French bombarded Damascus to suppress the rioting in 1925

Lattakian hotel workers turn up at the door to repair the toilet when we ask housekeeping for extra toilet paper and towels

In Aleppo, guys sit around and smoke nargilehs and exchange opinions about football

At Crac des Chevaliers the enthusiastic waiter tells us ‘’We have mezze with barbecued chicken or do you want barbecued chicken with mezze?’’

In Damascus families sit together in their small courtyards and watch television

Taxi drivers are helpful, eager to practise their English and believe they are rally drivers

In Hama complete strangers come up to us and tell us ‘Welcome to Syria.’ Everyone smiles and nods and looks fondly at our kids. ‘Salam’ they say

Their hospitality is unparalleled.

Jordan- A Land of Contrasts

From the bustling, heaving cities with the tented Iraqi refugees
To the luxurious 5 star hotels along the Dead Sea

From the majestic mountains and breathtaking views
To the aridity of the spoiled wetlands

From the hospitable cheery welcome
To the overpricing and scams aimed at the tourists

From the red-rosed history of Petra
To the bright blue of Aqaba bay

From the beige dilapidated housing of Irbid
To the green trees that grow in abundance

From the high pressure shower in my hotel bathroom
To the chronic water shortage in the country

From ancient, crumbling Umayyad castles
To the modern, shiny, high- rise apartment blocks

From the still, eerie, quietness of Wadi Rum’s desert
To the loud, tooting, ubiquitous horns of Amman


From the salty Dead Sea highway
And the scenic Kings Highway
To the dry Desert Highway

This is Jordan.

Saudi

Rub- Al-Khali desert
High winds
Black cloaked abayas
Ancient dirty toilets
Sand
Eroded rock formations
Sand covered highways
Dangerous trucks
Delicious hummus
Dust
Blazing sun
Erratic drivers
Extensive oil pipelines
Featureless landscape
Sand
Mini mosques
Rusted petrol stations
Old, American saloon cars
Sugary Oom Ali
Dust
Frequent road checkpoints
Black, scorched camels
Never ending road
Sleepy children
Sand