Traveling to Syria: alone through Damascus, Palmyra and Aleppo

My journey to Syria began with a flight to Amman, the capital of Jordan, and a knot in my stomach. From there I crossed the border to Damascus, alone, without a group and without a safety net. Anyone thinking about traveling to Syria today thinks of war and danger first. What I actually found on my tour through Syria was the exact opposite: a hospitality unlike anything I have ever experienced on any other adventure in the Middle East.

In the old town of Damascus, one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world, I lost myself among narrow alleys, the bustle of the Souk al-Hamidiyya and the black-and-white striped domes of the old mosques. Strangers invited me in for tea, and shopkeepers told me their stories as if we had known each other for years.

From Damascus I was drawn on into the desert, to Palmyra. I stood completely alone among the ancient columns of this UNESCO World Heritage Site rising out of the sand. No tour bus, no other tourists, just wind and world history. The route then took me via Homs to the mighty crusader castle Krak des Chevaliers and on to Hama, famous for its centuries-old wooden waterwheels, the norias.

The final stop was Aleppo, once Syria's largest city, with its massive citadel and legendary bazaar. Amid the scars of war I saw people everywhere rebuilding their lives: opening shops, sending their kids to school, carrying on. The destruction is real, but it is not what stays with you.

Traveling Syria independently showed me that behind every headline there are real people, and that the most striking destinations are often exactly the ones everyone warns you about. It was no ordinary trip. It was an encounter with a country that is so much more than its reputation.