One man was kind enough to ask me where I was going. When I mentioned that I need a hotel, he says "Hotel, Police!,Hotel, Police!" and quickly leaves me alone as the traffic whizzes by.
As I pull out a smoke and my guidebook, I have an out of body experience as I see myself from above. I begin to laugh at the vision of some stupid Canadian on the side of the road in northern Syria looking through a guidebook. However, my panic level is very low. I made it into Syria, and as I drink in the wonder around me, my faith in the way forward abounds.
The thing is that I know where I want to go, I just don't know where I am or how to get there, but after a proper scalping by a cab driver, I find myself checking in to the most famous hotel in Syria, a bastion of bygone days and a destination unto itself.
http://www.goyestoeverything.com
