Monday 21st December - Gaziantep to Aleppo

WARNING: Those of you not interested in the intricacies of border crossing with a vehicle may want to skip to the end!

We were up early to get packed and ready for the border.  The Land Rover was OK after a bit of excitement last night as we caught a drunk man making a vain attempt to pull the spare tyre off the bonnet.  It was almost worth taking it off for him and seeing how far he managed to carry it up the road, but as it was Anne shouted at him and he legged it.  It was strange to see a drunk person in Turkey as it's just not in their culture.

We made our way south through Gaziantep until we hit the main road to Kilis, the last Turkish town before Syria.  As we didn't fancy repacking the back of the Land Rover on the street outside the hotel (where there were too many people trying to sell us things), we pulled over once out of the city to put away our food shopping and to sort ourselves out for the border (which included getting out our US dollars and all the Land Rover's paperwork).  We attracted a stray dog, on which Anne took pity and fed her my last little cake - it was a fruit one which is my least favourite, so I forgave her.  The dog obviously then got a taste for cake as it nicked a chocolate loaf thing we'd bought, but Anne managed to chase it down and successfully recovered her chocolate fix. SPOT

We approached the Turkish side of the border and were lucky to beat a bus load of people to passport control where we swiftly collected our exit stamps, but we were then unsure if that was it or whether we had to do anything else.  As we were boxed in we werenít going anywhere until the car in front was finished, but after wandering to the various windows there was nothing obvious that we had to do, so once free we drove up to the exit barrier.  Unfortunately we were directed back to customs as apparently we did have to see the men in the windows regarding the Land Rover.  We had to wait 10 minutes until the customs man returned (who knows from where), who immediately sent us to the next window where the vehicle details were entered into the computer and my passport stamped, after which I had to return to customs for another stamp.  We were then free of Turkey and into no man's land, so we took the road through the minefield (yes, really) and pulled up outside the Syrian border post.

Not having our Syrian visas we expected a long wait as our fate was decided, so I was a little nervous entering the passport office, unlike Anne who was very philosophical and relaxed about the whole thing.  We struck a bit of luck as a Syrian student was getting his passport stamped ahead of us and offered to help translate.  After explaining to the man with the gold braid on his uniform how long we wanted to stay, what our jobs were, where we were going, and the fact we didn't have our visas, the 'big cheese' smiled and said, 'No visas, problem,' not what we wanted to hear.  We smiled back and tried explaining that the visas would have run out had we got them in the UK before leaving.  I'm not sure if this carried any weight or whether he was just teasing us, as after only a few minutes he told us to go to the bank opposite and sort out our vehicle's paperwork and then come back.  We thanked our Syrian translator, who was actually travelling on a British passport, and made our way across the road to the insurance office.

The well dressed young man behind the desk told us we needed to go to the bank first, as it seems that the 'man in the bank' is responsible for everything!  Next door, a 'salaam alaykum' and we were in business.  He checked what type of vehicle we had, whether it was diesel (unfortunately yes, as there is a US$100/week tax) and how long we wanted to stay in Syria.  Anne said four weeks, to which the man said he thought that would be too expensive, quoting $540 ($140 for insurance and custom fees, the rest for diesel tax).  I asked if we could pay for two weeks up front, and then, if we stayed longer, whether we could pay any extra diesel tax on exit.  We were told that this would be fine as the insurance was valid for a month, although he said not to mention this to the customs man, tell him two weeks.

Now started the to-ing and fro-ing between the bank and the other offices.  After handing over our US dollars we were given a receipt and a stack of Syrian money for the insurance man, who entered our vehicle details into his computer and printed out our insurance document.  He wished up Happy Christmas and welcomed us to Syria.

Back to the bank for another receipt and stack of Syrian money, this time for the customs man, but first we had to see about our visas.

In the passport office it was all smiles and we were given our passports and a receipt each to take to the bank, with the big cheese saying I would cost $52 but Anne would be $100 due to her Irish passport.  This was a bit of a blow as she could have used her British passport had we known (although the information we had was that an Irish visa should be about the same price).  As it turns out the passport man got it wrong and the man in the bank corrected the price to $50; when we crossed back to the passport office the big cheese was laughing as he had realised his mistake and said he should have told us $50 for Anne, so I think it would have all worked out anyway.

During the 10 minute wait as our visas were processed, one of the other passport office staff came over and asked if it was true that the Irish had made the first 'bomb car', which is what his friend had told him.  We weren't sure if we had heard the question correctly, but yes, they did want to know if the Irish had invented car bombing.  We thought that maybe the IRA had been first, so we said yes, which seemed to please them.  We gesticulated that Anne wouldn't be doing any bombing, which made them laugh.  I'm not sure one should really joke about car bombing at a border crossing, but they were so friendly and it was smiles all round, so we just went with the flow. Another 'Welcome to Syria' and we had our visas.

Next was the customs office with our last bundle of cash.  We were invited into the smoke filled room where they made space for us to sit and also welcomed us to Syria.  We were a bit dismayed when the customs man said he wanted another $83 and sent us back to the bank.  Customs didn't say what the extra money was for, but the bank man seemed to disagree and locked up the bank and accompanied us back to the customs office.  After a quick conversation it became clear that we should have shown the customs man our Carnet de Passages en Douane as the extra $83 would have been for a temporary import waiver for the Land Rover.  After apologies, our carnet was stamped and we said our goodbyes and headed to the vehicle.

We were about to pull off when a final man waved us to a stop and came to check our carnet.  He didn't want to look inside the Land Rover, just nodded his approval and welcomed us to Syria!

One final check of passports at the barrier, which had been proceeded by polite enquiries about where we were from and our professions from the border guard, then we were free and driving south into Syria. SPOT

It had taken us less than an hour to make it through the Syrian border process, which was actually quicker than leaving the Turkish side, and everybody had been so friendly and helpful that I felt a bit foolish for being apprehensive

Aleppo is only about 50km south of the border and, as per my usual tactic on entering a capital city, I made Anne drive!  We had shortlisted a few possible hotels in the New City as recommended by the trusty Lonely Planet, so navigated towards the centre.  Anne said she hadnít had to concentrate on driving quite so hard before, with the Syrians having a total disregard for lane discipline and a preference for the horn rather than the indicator.  A convoluted one way system as you enter the city centre didnít help matters, so we pulled over ìnearî to the first hotel and I ventured out on foot.  No go as they wanted almost four times the price Lonely Planet quoted and they had no parking (the streets around were all parking meters).  Back into the melee and we drove in search of another couple of Lonely Planet recommendations and somehow managed to end up right outside one, which is where we ended up as didnít want to risk getting lost and the place seemed reasonable enough.  One of the hotel staff accompanied me to the nearby secure parking they use and I made sure the Land Rover was locked up safely before returning to the hotel to settle in.

Aleppo certainly has a very different feel to the other places weíve visited, and the hustle and bustle (and the driving) reminded Anne of her time in India as we went for a wander after dark.  We're certainly looking forward to the souk tomorrow, which is meant to be one of the most atmospheric in the Middle East.