The early morning light streams through my curtainless window this morning, and this and the already busy traffic on the street below foretells that any further sleep will be hard to come by. Gerry and I visit the nearby former Roman city of Aphamia. After two minibus journeys (past some big water wheels that still might be working), it's only a short walk to the ruins themselves on the outskirts of a modern day town. Ruins is definitely the word, with everything being levelled to the ground over the last 1500 years or so. During the last few decades,a team of Belgiums undertook the lengthy effort of resurrecting the main columns of the former main avenue of the city. At over two kilometres in length, it has been quite an undertaking.
We walk the vast majority of this stretch. It's a beautifully warm, dewy morning, and the birds are out in force as are huge bundles of swarming caterpillars, lying in the damp grass. The haze of moisture softens the sunshine and it's just fantastic to be outside. We enjoy the peaceful nature of the early morning by making use of the many benches that appear along the way. It's great to just sit at such a place without hearing the sounds of other voices or footsteps- just like Palmyra. However, I have to say that despite the long colonnade, the attractions here are very much a distant second to the "City of Palms". Gerry walks off towards the far end of the city, so I decide to relax on a rock in the continuing morning sunshine, and fall asleep for a while.
Eventually, we trace our steps back along the cobblestones and notice what may well be the rut marks of chariot wheels that once used these streets in the stones along the ground. It gives us a real sense of history, reminding us that people left their mark in more ways than just building stones. We stroll back through a small town on the outskirts of the main town, passing some boys sleeping on the ruins, and other more industrious youngsters taking their sheep out to graze amongst the rocks.
A lady invites us into her shop for a quick cuppa and we duly accept. We experience similar generosity for the next hour as we walk along the busy main street of town. People invite us into their shops for a chat and samples of their food. It may seem like good business sense to some, but I can tell you that it feels a lot more than that. People seem genuinely happy to see visitors and promote the good things of the area. In more cynical moments it is easy to misinterpret when such offers are made: Will I have to pay for this later, and how much is it going to cost? For the vast majority of the time such fleeting considerations aren't worth having, and you can feel a bit guilty of being wrong when you do think them. We receive loads of offers for food today, and I struggle to get one chap to take payment for a cold type of semolina pudding which is delicious.
The evening is spent enjoying the Champions league AC Milan game in the comfort of the hotel sitting room. I had spent the time preceding this locating a few suitable cinemas in town using the contacts I have recently established, but it's nice just to relax and take the game in without even having to cross the doorstep. A comfortable win follows and all is good. The sad thing is I remember every game I have watched abroad. Quite often it's been great fun even just locating a potential venue, and even the games which I didn't get to see often have a memorable story behind them, for me at least.
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