Day 9 - Hatay to Aleppo

Damascus is getting closer. The feeling starts to sink in this morning as Alan, during his daily briefing reminds us to carry our passports with us. He and Fr. Pierre also give us some quick tips on Border protocol – removal of helmet and sunglasses, no animated conversations or loud laughter.

Going through the route card for the day

The border is approximately 60 kilometres away. Escorted for the last time by a police escort we all leave together. There will be no timings until we reach the border but we are urged to cycle as fast as possible, which admittedly is very annoying especially when the order is given from the interior of an air-conditioned van.

Approaching the Syrian border

As we get closer to the Syrian border, the heat levels start to increase drastically. The cold water in my bottle has become warm, good enough to make a cup of tea. The roads are quiet country roads, and we encounter little traffic. As we reach the 30km mark, we stop to get cold water and snacks. A packed lunch has been prepared for us and will be taken at the border whilst our passports will be vetted by border officials.

The approach to the border finds us cycling through a long line of trucks, carrying all sorts of goods. We enjoy this line as it offers us some shade and respite from the strong sun, which is beating strongly on us even though it is still mid morning. I shudder to think of what is in store for us in the afternoon hours.

Turkish - Syrian Border

Leaving Turkey is a sombre affair. Our passports are stamped as we exit in a group. Past the border into no man's land we cycle for a few kilometres through dry, barren and unwelcoming landscapes. A few cars drive slowly past us.

No Man's Land

A few moments later we reach the Syrian border. Soner takes our passports and advises us that this procedure might take long. We settle down in an sheltered open area where an influx of cars, buses and truck pass at a steady pace after having passed a thorough inspection process. A sign “Welcome to Assad's Syria” greets us. Obeying Alan's instructions we sit down and eat our snacks. Francesca decides to carry out some physio much to the disgust of the male Arab travellers. They are shocked to see a woman, although modestly dressed, touching a male's thighs in public.

The people I love were only a message away!

During our three hour wait, Alan informs me that my timings have improved considerably but he wants to help us so he will organise the cyclist groups in such a way that the faster cyclists like Jesmond, Pierre and Willie will ride with us so that they can set the pace for us. Shortly after our passports are returned to us, and we can continue on our journey. Alan reminds us that Syria should be flatter than Turkey so hopefully we will get a bit of respite.

Jesmond, teams up with me and Robert and we set off at Jesmond's pace. The roads are mainly flat although there are some undulations with some steep inclines. I find it quite a task to keep up with Jesmond. Looking at my GPS I find that I am keeping an average speed of 22kilometres an hour. The heat is becoming unbearable and although my water bottles are full the water is almost boiling making it unfit for drinking. My heart rate is rising, whereas normally it averages 112 beats per minute, here it was reaching 150 beats. Thankfully we soon have a water stop and end up pouring water on my head to cool down. I can't wait for the next checkpoint.

Jesmond picks up the pace again, so fast that I can barely keep up with him. Turning round to keep an eye on my progress he encourages me, slowing down a bit. The heat is immense and I am parched. My water bottle is already empty. I have no Syrian money so we cannot stop to buy drinks. Thankfully, after about 20 minutes, although they did seem like an eternity, we see the backup truck and the welcome “Checkpoint” sign. Paul greets me with his trademark smile. What happened next is a blur as all I remember is telling him to hold the bike. Then I faint falling down in the middle of the road. Thankfully Robert is near by and manages to break my fall. Soner carries me to a nearby bench. I remember a flurry of activity and voices. I could hear Nicholas, from a distance, urging them to give me Diarolyte and Jesmond giving me a foul tasting drink, whilst someone else is calling on Steph the doctor to come quickly. Someone wets my bandanna with cold water and puts it over my head whilst someone holds my legs up so that the blood starts flowing properly. I feel Steph putting on a cuff, inflating it and monitoring my blood pressure. The heat has caused it to go down hence the fainting fit. I feel so embarrassed by all this and try to wave off the attention it has generated. I ask for my bike so that I can continue to go to the next checkpoint but Alan tells me that this was the final one and that I could ride into Aleppo in one of the backup vans. It seems that I have gained quite a lot of time today, even though I felt as if I was going to kill myself in the process. AT least I can sleep a bit easier tonight even though it's far from over.!

Going to our accommodation we drive to some of the main stress in Aleppo. The driving is chaotic and treacherous. Drivers, completely ignore traffic warden instructions even though they are frantically waving their hands and blowing their whistles forcefully. Driving is a matter of “survival of the fittest” it seems. More like a dodgems fun park scenario than a historical city. Having a police escort helps although it seems that drivers have little regard for authority when it comes to driving. Shirley, who is travelling in the same backup vehicle as I am closes her eyes. She cannot bear to look at what the cyclists are driving through.

Our accommodation in Aleppo is a Jesuit residence which also serves as a school. Therese and her team quickly settle down and start preparing dinner, whilst the rest of us prepare our beds for the night. Quickly realising that there are only two showers to cater for all of I, I sneak into the first shower just before the mob realises and attacks!

Shower ready. Lenny asks me to join him, Luke, Will and Robert to go to the city to exchange money and have a quick drink. We advise Ray and Steph, that we would be going out for a while and we find a lift from one of the residents who takes us into the city and stops us on the main road just in front of a Bureau de Change. Exchanging some Turkish Lira into Syrian pounds, we set off to find a decent looking cafe. My attire, although relatively modest is not modest enough it seems as I get a few disapproving glances from passers by – male and female. I guess a female accompanied by four males is not exactly the norm in this country. Sitting down, on comfortable armchairs we tuck into some Middle Eastern fare – tabbouleh, fattoush, hoummous and pitta bread. I am careful not to eat raw vegetables as I have had a lot of warnings about the effects these could have. The food is a welcome change from the usual pasta which although is excellent and plentiful it gets a bit too much at times.

Time to head back. We look out for a taxi. I see a little taxi dropping off a whole family – I swear about ten people came out of the little vehicle. Packing ourselves into the taxi, Robert sits in front striking a conversation with the driver, while I squeeze in the back with Lenny, Luke and Willie. What a laugh, the driver was extremely friendly and very amused to see us all laughing our heads off. Getting to our accommodation we tip him generously and he is very pleased to pose for photos with us.

Back at the accommodation I am in time for Mass. Part of our daily routine, that I must admit I look forward to. I might not always follow what Fr. Pierre says but that half an hour gives me time to take stock of the day's events and say a little prayer for all involved and for all those who will benefit from our efforts.