Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I did not get up for breakfast and we left quite early at 08.00 a.m. I was losing concentration
and feeling very hot and dizzy. Where was I? Was this my friend Peter, who had already
immigrated to Australia? This didn't look like Dubai. Who was this Abdulla character, who
was dozing next to me or blowing pink bubbles all the time? I had my eyes closed for most
of the time but could not sleep, and I felt weaker and weaker as the journey progressed.
Eventually, I lay down on the seat and must have slipped into unconsciousness. At one
point, we got out at a roadside café for tea. I felt dizzy, nauseous and faint and had difficulty
walking and nearly passed out. I splashed my face with cold water and returned unsteadily
to our vehicle. As we continued the journey, I now began to perspire profusely. Water was
lashing off me, and my clothes were soaking with sweat. We even had to turn the AC off
in the car, because I was suffering badly from the cold. My clothes were now wringing wet
and clinging to my body and hypothermia was beginning to set in. Peter later claimed he
had never seen such an extreme case of fever before.
Unfortunately, due to my state of health, we were unable to visit one of the most interesting
places on our route; Maalula where we had hoped to attend the Sunday mass in Aramaic. I
had really been looking forward to seeing this and had congratulated myself on my timing
for the visit, but not for the timing for my illness. Sadly, Maalula was another site, which
was later badly damaged in the fighting. It changed hands several times between the dif-
ferent factions and sub-factions; diminishing in grandeur each time. Thus, we just headed
as straight as the roads permitted for Damascus. I hadn't a clue where we were and put
everything in the hands of my friend Peter and the Gods.
Anti-climactically, we made it to Damascus. I remember rolling out of the van; where I had
been prostrate in a puddle of my own sweat for the past 4 or so hours. Peter had arranged
the hotel check-in with my passport, leaving me free to stagger to my room, remove my
soaking clothes and collapse into my bed.
I was in some state. Peter with all his veterinary knowledge went to a chemist, bought some
electrolyte, filled up a bottle of water with it and made me drink it all. I felt like I was one
of his much-loved falcons. I was badly dehydrated and this was just what was needed. I
stayed in bed all afternoon recovering. As I moved from slumber to wakefulness, I fever-
ishly watched a succession of American “B” movies on the TV. I am not sure if this aided
or hindered my recovery but I slowly started to feel better.
In the meantime, the mysterious, all-knowing and all-seeing Rafa had been true to her word
to us and had got rid of the useless Abdulla. We now were blessed with a new and pro-
fessionally trained guide who was a specialist of Damascus; the veiled and quietly spoken
Raed (which means pioneer and was, curiously, a Communist and not an Islamic name).
