Damascus & Palmyra

Enjoying a peaceful existence here in Syria. Damascus is an incredible city and as part our dim leader's "Axis of Evil," it lacks many tourists, allowing one to be free to stroll leisurely with little hassle from touts and shopkeepers. As such, I have actually been doing a bit of window and store gazing, not because I intend to buy anything, although I probably should as Damascene markets contain some amazing handicrafts. I took some pics for parties interested (uploaded to album--Blogger in Syria is partially blocked therefore I am not sure if pics are uploading to the blog). Things are cheap. Could potentially be ground zero for the formation of the What Fell Off the Back of the Truck import company.
There has been a good cast of interesting characters at the guest house I was staying at. Like most Islamic cities, there is a serious absence of Western-styled night activities, forcing one to routinely engage in an oxymoron called "sober fun." Or meaningful conversations, whatever you prefer to call it. There was two German guys, sporting beards that put Joe and I's post-Amazon ones to shame, who had bicycled for 7 months from Germany all the way to Syria. When I spoke to them it was actually their last few hours before they flew home. They spoke of some incredible experiences along the way--most notably their stay in Georgia, when the Russians started shelling the town they were staying in. We also were contemplating the fact that they had been traveling to this point for 7 months only to return back home on a 7 hour flight. Also spent some time discussing importing logistics with a french girl named Sev (yes, I told her she shared the same name with a football god back in KC) who had been spending the previous two weeks scouring the markets for textiles and fabrics to send back to France. More interestingly, we discussed the finer points of the colloquial differences of descriptions of coitus in French and English. Their romanticism of even brief liaisons confused me.

Just took a bus to the Syrian desert oasis of Palmyra. Was able to be alone amongst Roman ruins for the first time in my life. Boy they are old. I think I may have hit my "old things" quota for the month.

It may be time for a brief societal and financial sabbatical, so if you don't hear from me for 4 or 5 days, I apparently have found the supposed Syrian monastary Mar Musa, which is tucked into the mountians. Yes I know, me and the monastic life go together like whisky and milk, but hey, I hear they take free boarders.

Contemplating the phenomenon that is belly button lint,
BQ