My stomach seemed much better that morning - it must have been the sandveech that did it. None the less, I decided to be careful with breakfast, and only had yoghurt, bread and tea (the yoghurt took a lot of explaining before they understood what I wanted), and then I checked out. I thought I’d better get a photo or two of the Noria, or water wheels, before leaving, as they are the famous feature of Hama. Then I set off for Palmyra (Tadmor). Of course, I got lost in Homs, but with this quality of signposting, what was I to expect? I also managed to fill up with petrol, as the thought of being stranded on the desert highway was not my idea of fun.
Soon after Homs, you turn left, and you are on the desert highway to Tadmor, with very little scope for going wrong - after all, this is the only road going that way in about 200 km. The scenery soon changes. The reasonably fertile Orontes valley gives way to semi-arid grassland, with a few settlements, many in beehive-type huts, scattered here and there. Then onward into arid, rocky desert. After about 100km of nothing, I got to the mountains, then to a railway line (which was not marked on any map), and then to a junction with a police checkpoint. The policeman came to my car, and peered in. I offered my passport, but he was disinterested, and pointed at my camera. You want me to take a picture, I ask him. Evidently not. He was telling me NOT to use my camera around there. Which was a pity, because at this point there was a sign to Baghdad, the last I saw in Syria, and I couldn’t get a photo.
After the checkpoint I was driving along the main highway towards Baghdad. Great. I had a map which, though the best available of Syria, was grossly inaccurate. Better hope the Iraqi border was marked in the correct place! After a further 70km I saw something green shimmering in the distance:
Palmyra!
Palmyra was once one of the richest cities in the East, indeed, one of the richest cities in the Empire. It gained in importance as a trading post, as it was one of the few oases between Mesopotamia and Damascus and Palestine. The local population mounted patrols to keep this stretch of the desert free of brigands, to attract more trade. The city grew to prominence and wealth when Petra in the South began to decline, and most of the silk route trade passed through Palmyra from the end of the first century AD, with the Palmyrenes skimming off hefty duties. The city remained wealthy until its queen, Zenobia, rebelled against Rome in 271AD, and declared herself Queen of the East. The Romans crushed the rebellion in 272AD, dragged Zenobia off in chains, but, unusually, and reflecting the city’s importance, spared the city and its people. However, when they revolted again two years later, the city was sacked and the majority of its inhabitants slaughtered, while those who survived were enslaved. A legionary fortress was built at one end of the remains of the city, just to make sure of future good behaviour. That’ll teach them for rebelling against Rome...The city was finally destroyed by an earthquake in 1089.
As I approached, the first thing I saw was the palm trees, and then the columns rising up from the site. The sight was magnificent. The road wound straight through the ruins (!) to Tadmor, just beyond. The names for the places are quite apt: Palmyra, Latin for City of Palms, for the romantic ruins; and Tadmor, ancient Semitic for Guard Post, for the grim new settlement, with its air force base beyond it.
I found the Orient Hotel, and checked in, and then had lunch of falafel in a place nearby. The guy thought me to be French, so we carried on the whole conversation in French (which, certainly in his case, was not very good). Why change into something he feels more comfortable speaking? After all, he started in French!
My first task on the site was to climb up to the Arab Castle to get the view over all of Palmyra. However, before that I had to return to the hotel for my sun cream, as it was scorching. By the time I got out again, the sun had hidden itself behind high-level cloud, and was no longer as powerful. Typical.
The climb to the castle was long and hard, but it was well worth the effort. A Belgian bloke (poor sod) had the same idea, but had to stop half of the way up due to an urgent call of diarrhoea. At the top, we were offered admission of 50 Syrian, but, as there is nothing to see inside, I thought it to be a waste of money. As I sat there, the Bedouin offered 25. I declined again, wondering how low he was willing to go. He went no further, and left me in peace.
Valley of the Tombs
The view from the castle was amazing: the ruins in the reddish sand, the green oasis behind. I remained there for a while, transfixed by the view, before heading down to the ruins proper. It was late in the afternoon, and sunset is the best time to view Palmyra, with the columns shining bright red, and long shadows falling between them. To the left lay the modern town of tadmor, with the camel race track in the foreground, and in the distance the air base and the endless expanse of the Syrian desert.
Collonade and Temple, Palmyra
Tetrapylon and Theatre, Palmyra
The columns were absolutely enormous, and beautifully coloured in the late-afternoon sunlight. The decorations on them were highly elaborate, and were pronounced by the lengthening shadows. The theatre was small but pretty, while the ceremonial arch, with its architectural trickery, was amazing. I didn’t have time to look at the temple complex of Bel, as I had to go once more in search of a toilet.
After a short lie-down, I decided that my stomach was in need of filling once more. Yoghurt, honey, bread and flower tea. I joined a couple of English people, a girl who had driven out to spend a year on Damascus, and a guy who had accompanied her on the journey. We chatted for a while, and then went our separate ways. After dinner, I risked a further venture out to the ruins, but had to improvise a toilet behind a low sand bank by the roadside. I found the most useful application of the 5 Syrian note - toilet paper. At least I wouldn’t have to go again for a while, and could wander around the ruins with peace of mind.
The ruins, under the silver blanket of light cast by the full moon, were stunning, without a doubt one of the most amazing sights I have ever witnessed. I won’t waste words attempting to describe the scene.
I returned to the hotel in a trance - to one of the most unpleasant nights of my life.
Last Updated on 09 November, 1999