last days in Damascus

Since returning to Damascus a few days ago, my time has been filled with "lasts": last 20 cent croissant; last lemon ice; last trip to my favorite cafe; last time getting lost in the Old City; last peek into the courtyard of the Ummayad Mosque; last morning trip to the bakery; last free cardomon-scented coffee from the guy near Baramke station; last swim at Tishreen; last blackberry juice; last time redistributing change in a service. And, of course, last time seeing my Syrian friends.

Although, before you start worrying that I've gone round the sentimental bend, I am not going to miss my Eastern toilet and antiquated washing machine AT ALL.

In addition to "lasts"--a remarkable number of which seem to involve food, hmm--I've been hitting up the tourist sites I never quite got around to seeing. The national museum was very nice, especially the friezes from a desert castle and the frescoed synagogue interior. Its gardens are also lovely; they appear to have left half the collection outside on the lawn.

Next door is the army museum. Didn't see the displays, just wandered around the verdant courtyard. Pieces of military equipment are nestled amidst the foliage, giving the visitor the odd impression of having inadvertently stumbled onto the remains of a Vietnam jungle battle. Or an Indiana Jones film. The garden also contains one of the more fabulous Assad statues I've seen:

Anyone else thinking "the Great and Powerful Oz"? Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain...

I've also been doing last-minute shopping: an exercise in misery. I'd previously come to the conclusion that you should never judge a country by its politicians or cab drivers, but now I'm considering adding "souvenir sellers" to the list. I've never been in a country where vendors were so willing to walk away from a sale. Either Damascene trinkets are pricier than I thought or business is very good.

Tomorrow: 8 a.m. flight to Heathrow. *yikes!*