Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
row streets and alleys. The driver became a little disoriented and we found ourselves travel-
ling the same route past the same people. The first time they simply looked, the second time
there was a negative reaction to our presence, possibly because they observed the Syrian
number plate.
There were the usual markets, with people going about their business. Some further colour
was added by a couple of small boys detonating a large, deafening, firework in the middle
of the road as we approached. Looking on were a bunch of girls using an improvised swing
made from a steel beam protruding from the side of a building.
There were battered damaged buildings that had never been repaired after the period of
fighting. This contrasted with the considerable amount of new buildings going up in place
of the damaged hulks outside the camps.
There didn't appear to be any military checkpoints within the camp, but outside they were
everywhere. Armoured vehicles, sandbags, soldiers, barbed wire and machine guns.
While waiting to cross the road several large black four wheel drive vehicles stormed past
with an escort of flashing lights. Obviously somebody who considered themselves to be
important.
We walked along the top of the cliff overlooking the sea past several checkpoints. I was
keen to take some photos, but the soldiers were watching me every step of the way and I
decided it was better just to take in the scenery.
The sea was a dark blue against a sunny light blue sky. It certainly looked attractive with
several large outcrops of rock standing a little out from the cliffs with a cluster of small
fishing boats. Looking from our high point we couldn't see any beaches that I had imagined
would be along the sea front, although there were several Lidos and enclosed swimming
pools, but these were largely empty.
We shouted the driver his lunch. Without thinking of Tartus I ordered fish and that was my
downfall, I think it poisoned me and I suffered a badly upset stomach and high temperat-
ures for a day or so.
Near the Hariri mosque, we drove through crowd of men spilling onto the roadway. They
were holding Koran's in their hand and were obviously coming from Friday prayers. They
didn't look very friendly and the driver began to get a little nervous, as he was driving one
of the very few vehicles in the city with Syrian number plates. He was concerned we could
