An attempt by RICHARD CONWAYto haggle in Damascus' Souk al-Hamidiyya is disarmed when the trader presents a bar of soap for free
I HAD BEEN told to haggle at Damascus’ vaulted Souk al-Hamidiyya. In any Middle Eastern market worth its salt, fellow travellers had said, that’s how it’s done.
With my eyes fixed on a bar of pale green Aleppo soap, I approached a smiling trader hoping to get something of a bargain. What I didn’t expect was to have my price refused straight away, and to be given it for free.
Free? I hesitated. Surely I was being hoodwinked into buying 10 more bars, as I had been at another stall minutes earlier.
“Thanks,” I said cautiously, unsure whether to stay or leave. “It’s ok. Where are you from?” the bespectacled salesman asked.
“Ireland,” I replied. “Ah Ireland, beautiful people! Welcome to Syria,” he said, shaking my hand.
And that was that. There was no small print, no catch. I was a bar of soap and a compliment richer, and I hadn’t parted with a single pound. I wondered if local etiquette meant I should buy something. But if I was anyway sceptical of his motivations, I needed to get over it. He, like most Syrians, was just naturally ebullient and talkative.
Random conversation – one part friendly probing, one part amiable small talk – was a big part of my stay in Damascus. From Izzo the taxi driver who gave me a free as-we-whizzed-by tour (all the while asking me why I wasn’t married at 30) to Muhammad, the 20-something outside a bar who wanted to visit Europe, I spend a lot of time listening.
It’s perhaps not surprising in a city that lays claim, along with Aleppo in the north, to the title of the oldest continually inhabited city in the world. Muslims, Christians and traders have moved about here, side-by-side, for centuries. Conversation is as much a part of the city as its mosques and cafes.
I spent most of my time wandering in the Roman-walled old city. Once surrounded by seven gates, with only one surviving, this quarter remains remarkably mediaeval in character. Here, the corrugated iron roofed souk, the citadel and the beautiful Umayyad Mosque lie within walking distance of one another.
THE SOUK IS AS good a starting point as any. Chiefly a 19th century market, it sells everything from sweets and spices, to underwear and toys. It gets more interesting along the side streets that surround it, where the pace is slower. Terminating at the Roman western temple gate, its main thoroughfare leads directly to the Umayyad Mosque.
Resplendent and restrained, everyday and monumental, the mosque is simply beautiful. One of the most important in the Islamic world, it contains both the Mausoleum of Saladin and the apparent final resting place of John the Baptist (thought to be a shaky claim). Worship at the site dates back almost 3,000 years.
Damascenes use its sahn, or courtyard, like a park: families sit and chat as children run free. With my shoes removed, the cold stone floor provided welcome relief in the hot city air. Pictures are permitted, and I took several as giggling children posed in front of my camera.
A cosmopolitan place of worship, the mosque is open to all, but tourists must pay a small price unless they wish to pray.
Everywhere in the old city there is evidence of centuries of conquest and change. Damascus has seen Roman, Ottoman, Mamluk and French rule, and is famously the city where the apostle Paul converted to Christianity, starting the early church.
The nearby citadel (closed on my visit but usually open to visitors), stands as a monument to this flux. Built some time in the 11th century, and fortified by various Sultans against Crusader attacks, it was later modified by Ottoman and French rulers.
For nightlife, the area around Bab Sharqi (one of the city’s seven ancient gates) is home to trendy bars and restaurants. Abu George is one of the city’s oldest; while nearby Ninar Art Café and Rossini offer equally pleasant atmospheres. All are near the old city’s ancient, and long neglected, Jewish quarter.
At one of the bars, Lokman, a local – himself Kurdish – told me how the Jewish people were part of Damascene life for centuries but now they number less than 50. They were both Jewish and Arab, he said, a cultural aspect of the city that is now largely missing.
My hotel was far from the interesting Jewish quarter in modern Damascus, which sprawls high up onto Mount Qassioun. As part of a press trip, I was booked into the nearby Sheraton. More interesting to many are the city’s boutique hotels; a bourgeoning industry here. Converted houses such as the Agenor or the Hotel Talisman are nestled on streets typical of the old city.
My stay was short, and so I saw little of new Damascus. Izzo the taxi driver thought this a shame. The mess outside the Roman walls is the real city, he said, and had I shopped elsewhere I might have gotten more stuff for free.
“Maybe next time,” I told him.
“You will be welcome!” he replied.
Go there
FLY:Turkish Airlines (turkishairlines.com) flies to Damascus (via Istanbul) from Dublin; turkishairlines.com.
EAT AND DRINK: Rossini, Bab Sharqi, Keshleh. Tel: 00 963 11 544 6336.
STAY: Sheraton Damascus, Omayad Square. Tel: 00963 11 222 9300 or starwoodhotels.com. Hotel Talisman, Al Ameen Street, Tal Elhijara. Tel: 00963 11
5415379 or talismanhotels.com. Agenor Boutique Hotel Damascus, Straight Street. Tel: 00963 11 5413651 or hoteldamascus.com/agenorboutique-hotel.
TOUR: Izzo the taxi driver does personalised tours (usually not for free).
