It took longer then anticipated to get the approval of the Syrian Authorities to travel to the country.

I don't know what it was, just plain ignorance or they were uncomfortable with my nationality and the countries I visited before, maybe they just did not want to support the organization that had, at least in their eyes, failed them over the years by not supporting them.

Eventually the clearances came through for all of us and of we went to the border. It was a nice spring day and the drive via Beirut, passing the Lebanon Mountain range was easy and so was the crossing of the Bekaa Valley. We finally arrived at the border town of Masna and one could immediately sense a hint of chaos. Long lines in front of the immigration counters for people entering Lebanon but and to a bit of surprise, also to leave the country. The ques of Syrians entering Lebanon were much longer then the ones leaving but there were also people, their cars fully laden with persons and goods driving the long winding road between the Lebanese and Syrian border stations.

The Masna Border Crossing between Lebanon and Syria

Border proceedings on the Syrian side were really quick and in no time we were on the road (highway) to Damascus. I have driven this road several times, but this time it felt different. It was nearly empty. The weather had changed while waiting for Syrian immigration proceedings to be completed and now a cold wind was blowing down the mountain, rising some dust with dark cloud covering the sunny sky of the morning.

The drive from the border to Damascus took normally about 30 minutes, now because of a total of about eight checkpoints it took us nearly an hour. We were also lucky as our cars were able to use a 'bypass' lane at the checkpoints and only after a short glance into the cars we were waived through.

Not so for the cars with Syrian plate numbers, drivers and passengers had to identify themselves at each checkpoint and open the car and the trunk in order to be searched. The checkpoint at the entrance to Damascus was the biggest and the most thorough even for us, but understandably so, once you know that at that time more then half a dozen organization cars had be stolen already and nobody could be sure who is really in the cars. The Mazzeh district of Damascus had grown since my last visit, but the traffic, albeit less, was still as before, everyone trying to cut off other cars. The overnight was in the Damascus Sheraton Hotel, there since many years even when I lived in Damascus in the mid 80's. The Hotel had changed little, the facade a bit more worn and faded. The entrance hall and reception exactly the same décor as before. So are the restaurants and the English Pub downstairs.

The atmosphere was very subdued, but what to expect in these times. Only very few people were visible, most of them belonging to one or the other agency of the organization. In the god old days when I was living in Damascus, during the height of the Lebanese Civil War, the hotel was crowded with all kind of shady individuals from the region on beyond. During the night, beside the strong wind rattling on some sort of shutters on the outside of the hotel, one could hear gunfire and explosions in the distance.

Damascus and Moon - Early Morning view of the Mazzah part of the city

Inside the Sheraton Hotel lobby

Getting ready for the convoy to the Golan with armoured cars

The drive to the Golan, under normal circumstances an affair of maybe 45 minutes took just over two hours this time. Once leaving Damascus City, passing a big checkpoint near the Military Airport on the road to Quneitra, immediately one could feel the change. Hardly any people on the road, no traffic and all the shutters drawn down on shops and houses. The main road completely deserted, every few kilometers checkpoints of various and dubious origins. The men, if you can call some of them even men as they seem to be in their late teens, are not easily identifiable as belonging to any government group. Only the posters of the president and the national flags flying make one assume that they are government, at least affiliated. Judging by their appearance, wearing a combination of uniforms and civilian clothes, they are either militias or secret service or mix of both or god knows what. The passage through this checkpoints is not as easy as on the road from the border to Damascus. Every checkpoint we have to identify ourselves and they demand to have a look into our vehicles. We also have to turn of the main road to use alternative routes through the countryside as the main-road is either not safe being in the firing line or in the hand of some sort of rebel group.

Leaving Damascus on the road to the Golan - near the Damascus Military Airport

A view of the Golan with Mount Herman peak and the mountain range still covered in snow

Along the way one can observe some signs of previous fighting, destruction on houses along the road and spend shell casings at many places littering the side of the road. The countryside is dotted with military positions, presumably from the government.

During the two weeks stay in the camp on the Golan, frequent firing, even close by could be heard, especially at night. Close to our camp must have been either a government artillery battery or some tanks, since when they shot at night, the ground was shaking and so were the walls. During the whole time of the stay running battles were fought in the surrounding countryside but mostly to the south of us. My theory is that it had to do with the weather, especially the temperatures at night. The camp is at about 1000 meters elevation, sitting just below the eastern ascend to Mount Hermon, whose top and ridge-lines as well a flanks were still covered with a lot of snow. Cold winds were blowing down that mountain for most of the days, and there were nights were the temperatures definitely were below zero. One morning produced ice on the vehicle windscreens and it took a while for the temperatures to rise that day, a cold wind remaining as a reminder of the high plateau the camp is on. The best thing during the two weeks was the food in the Mess hall, cooked by the Austrians. Fantastic I must say what they managed to prepare with the ever more limiting resources they had. If I take one good memory home from the Golan, it is the food, strange but true.

Shelter and defensive position on top - looks rather idyllic with the olive trees and poppy flowers in front

Our camp with the Military Police station

Another experience was to get my wisdom tooth pulled out by a dentist in a house on the Golan, about a kilometer outside the camp. I had no choice after having developed toothache over the weekend. It could not have come at a worse time, but what to do. The doctor was extremely nice, he had been trained in Berlin and lived for a while in Germany. His German was fluent and he did an excellent job removing that tooth. I won't forget that there were a couple of sheep in the yard, I had my bullet proof vest on and the helmet close by when he was pulling the teeth. Certainly one of those events one will remember for a long time.

Waiting for the convoy to go back to Damascus

On the day I left back to Lebanon, there was the sound of gun and artillery fire in Damascus even during the morning, although in the distance. It served as a reminder that this war is not finished and that the suffering for all the Syrian people will go on for a while. I can only hope that destruction and mayhem will be minimized, but looking at the news, this wish does not seem to be granted. My time was certainly an experience, personally as well as professionally. I wish I can return to Syria and Damascus in better times for a visit.