ZABADANI AND BLOUDAN

ZABADANI AND BLOUDAN

Following our loose plan of making a longer excursion on Fridays and a shorter one on Saturday mornings with some exploration of Damascus itself in the afternoon,  we took the Beirut road with a vague notion of finding a lake called the Zarzar Lake where the Shell Oil Company rowing club go to practise.  However, we became side-tracked by the idea of finding a place called Bloudan where, we had been told, many Saudis had summer homes, so we thought it would be an idea to compare this with the other major Saudi summer resort, Marbella.

Leaving the Beirut road, the road climbs up into the Ante-Lebanon Hills which were completely snow-covered after the snow falls of the last couple of days.  However, the surface of the road is good and the passage had been cleared of snow to allow traffic to get through, so driving was not hazardous.  The natural scenery is quite nice with a fair amount of tree cover, but the amount of building all the way up the mountain at Zabadani and Bloudan is overwhelming, as this is one of the summer hill stations for people from Damascus as well as other places, including Saudi Arabia, and the architectural merit of the constructions is zero minus ...  So, having seen the area we did not delay as, in any case, everything - hotels, restaurants and shops - was closed in winter.  I think we will go back again in summertime just to see the difference.

On the return journey we took a branch off to the Zarzar Lake where many families had brought their children to see the snow.  Adults and children were all busily employed making snowballs which they took delight in throwing at any passing vehicle.  Larger snowballs were also made and then put in a big plastic bag to be carried back to Damascus where the semi-melted blob would then be deposited in the street as proof that they had actually been to see the snow.

The lake is in flatter country and is rather attractive.  The shape of the lake is quite sinuous, reminiscent of those decorative swimming pools only on a larger scale, and there is a lake-side restaurant which probably functions in summer.  However, the water and the surroundings are somewhat neglected with plenty of plastic bags floating around.  Nevertheless Simon did have a swim which made him feel better although, when he came out of the water, his feet then got covered in mud and he had collected a fair harvest of prickly seeds which must have been floating in the water too so he was a fine mess when he got home.

After lunch we headed off for Old Damascus and the souk.  Having left Simon in the the car parked near the Meridien Hotel, we took a taxi the rest of the way and got out just opposite the entrance to the Al-Hamidiya Souk.  My aim on this first visit to Old Damascus was not to visit any of the numerous historical monuments to be found there but simply to wander through the souk savouring the atmosphere.  

To pass through the gate which gives on to the covered souk Al-Hamidiya is to enter another world.  This is a true oriental bazaar and everything is to be found there.  It is in fact a misnomer to talk about “the souk” because there are many souks, all enclosed within the city walls of Old Damascus - the Souk Harika, the Souk Midhat Pasha, the Souk Bazouriya - and, just like Medieval European cities, each one specializes in certain commodities, lingerie, gold, spices, copper, wood, carpets, Bedouin equipment, as well as the everyday things that people require.

The main throughfare of the Souk Al-Hamidiya is a throng of shoppers and people selling their wares.  The shops in smaller streets have “scouts” with samples of their wares to lure possible clients.  Socks, underwear, skirts, scarves, cushions and all the mundane things people need are to be found alongside other items such as hubble-bubble pipes and damask table cloths and embroidered cloth and bales of material.  In fact, I think everything ever made must be there.  I found it fascinating to look at the clothing and the shoes, particularly the shoes, because, in the same window as the ubiquitous platforms which must be found the world over this year, there were high heeled shoes made of satin of every hue and embroidered with sequins and bows - the very dream of little girls of yesteryear (and maybe even those of today for all I know) when they wanted to dress up.  The variety of scarves is impossible to imagine but, of course, in a culture such as this where most women have their heads covered all day long, scarves and shawls and other headcoverings are a major item in the wardrobe.  The aesthetic sense of the east is quite different.  This is the world of shimmer and glimmer and every degree of decoration imaginable!


The human scene was no less fascinating than the wares displayed and being thrust in front of one’s nose: from the modern miss to the traditional black-draped woman with not a millimetre of flesh uncovered, and every stage in between.  There were even some Somali women wearing their colourful costumes.

Further into the souk the crowd thinned a little and near the Great Ommayad Mosque Robert introduced me to a man who sells oriental perfumes whose acquaintance he had made during the two weeks he spent at the Semiramis Hotel just opposite the souk.  I was interested to see whether essential oils would be available as they are the basic ingredient of these perfumes but, at least at this stall, only the perfume grade was for sale.  The variety of perfumes all derived from flowers is prodigious.  Try the jasmine, madame.  Now the the opium (poppy).  Now the sandalwood.  Now the rose.  We had to stop it there: sandalwood on the pulse of the right hand, rose on the left, jasmine on the back of the right hand and poppy on the left.  Too confusing.  In the end I bought 7.5ml. of rose and poppy for 75 Syrian pounds each (50SL to the US$).  The perfumes is then transferred to the small flask by means of a special syringe and it was interesting to see that the minute bottles come equipped with a roller top like some deodorants for ease and economy of use.  The excess in the syringe was squirted on us so we spent the rest of the day floating on a perfumed cloud.

Other similar stalls were to be found in this areas which is the perfume district of the souk.  Some also sold elegant coloured Damascus glass bottles with a glass stopper which also has a long probe which allows the perfume to be applied to the skin.

Close by the perfume stall are the spice stalls.  Spices of every kinds, some recognisable and some quite unknown, are set out in attractive displays.  Roses and rosebuds figure prominently as people drink rose tea.  Another kind of tea is flower tea, or zooraat, made from a mixture of flowers.  Chamomile, saffron, both the Syrian and the more expensive Iranian variety, henna for the hair, fennel, and hundreds more all there asking to be purchased.  Rose water is also sold at the spice stalls as it is widely used in cooking.

We had a look inside the oldest café in Damascus where all the tables were occupied by men drinking tea and smoking the hubble-bubble pipe or narghilé,  a common passtime in the city.  I could not pluck up the courage to invade this male preserve so we had a cup of tea in another less crowded establishment a little further down the street.  Outside the shop next door a young man was repairing antique Persian carpets with great dexterity.  There is a roaring trade in these carpets and next week when the pilgrims begin to pass through on their way to the Hajj in Mecca, many bring carpets which they sell as a means of covering the costs of their pilgrimage, so the supply of carpets always increases after the pilgrimage.

One of the main attractions in the area of the perfumes and spices is gold and jewellery.  Gold rings and bracelets and chains and lockets and adornments of every kind twinkle enticingly and the windows are inevitably surrounded by many young women all admiring the wares and buying the objects of their desires or pointing them out to their husbands or fiancés.  Gold is sold by weight and only if the piece is very elaborate is an extra cannon charged for the workmanship.  The amount of gold hanging round most women’s necks and on their fingers and wrists is diffcult to imagine, but this is how women invest and is their hedge for the future. Should divorce leave them in a less fortunate position, then they can always sell some jewellery. The gold trade in Damascus is overwhelmingly in the hands of the Armenian population.

The streets of the souk are tortuous and it is easy to lose one’s bearings.  On this first encounter we did not wander far because the sights of the main thoroughfares were already so absorbing and, having had one of the delicious fruit juices sold everywhere in the city, we retraced our steps.