We were dropped off at a bus station a short distance from town and had to take a cab to the strip where most hotels are located. Unfortunately, no matter where you say you want to go, your first stop will be a crappy hotel called the Al-Faris since they apparently pay high commissions to business-bringing cab drivers. If you go to Palmyra and are taken to the Al-Faris, just say no—there are better hotels in the town itself, a five-minute walk from the ruins. After an unimpressive visit to the Baal Shamin Hotel, Dan and I settled on a nice and reasonably priced place called the Sun. It was clean, comfortable, and had a really nice in-room shower.
Although Palmyra used to be a filthy rich trade city and the home of Zenobia—an ambitious queen who defeated the Roman army and later escaped from a siege on camelback before being captured and paraded in Rome in chains—both the ruins and the modern town are mostly dusty and dead. High winds cause sand to hang thickly in the air and obscure otherwise lovely views, and most of the action seems to be focused on winning tourist business. There are tons of hotels and restaurants, but not all that many visitors. The people, though, are remarkably friendly, and most kids in town will shout “Hello! Hello!” at you as you walk by. One little girl coveted Dan’s and my ice cream bars so much that she dashed right over and demanded a taste, so I broke off a piece of the chocolate shell and gave it to her.
The site itself is most beautiful at sunrise and sunset, when temperatures are moderate and the colors are least washed out. We spent a pleasant day crawling into abandoned tombs, walking on ancient colonnaded streets, and peering into ancient temples. My favorite was the tiny but beautiful temple of Baal Shamin, which was shaded by the foliage of an ancient tree.
Dan and I had the place to ourselves most of the day, meaning that we were like a magnet for the merchants who travel on motorcycles across the site. Rather than wait for us to walk by, salesmen would frequently walk or drive up to us and ask whether we wanted carpets, necklaces, etc. My favorite was the drink guy, who sold Cokes from a cooler strapped to the back of his bike. We also met some shepherd boys who were very happy to see us and who brought over adorable lambs for us to play with. Eventually, unsurprisingly, they demanded baksheesh but were unhappy with the change in Dan’s pocket. After multiple attempts to beg for more, the more demanding of the two boys threw his hands over his face and produced some pretty impressive crocodile tears. They stopped lightning fast when he realized they were inspiring laughter instead of pity!
At the Temple of Bel, bored tour guides promised to reveal to us “all the details” about the temple, and were pretty miffed when we insisted on using a book instead. One of them eventually tracked us down inside the sanctuary and tried to get us to admit that there were things about the temple we didn’t know, obviously wanting us to realize that we ought to hire him in hopes of finding them out. This wasn’t the most effective strategy when dealing with a know-it-all such as myself. Even though I am no expert on that temple, I was too proud and too stingy to give that smug bastard the satisfaction.
The food we ate in Palmyra was quite good—lamb and chicken kebabs in the restaurant at the Ishtar Hotel, a cheeseburger for me at the Zenobia Hotel, and a final dinner of mansaf (nicely spiced chicken and rice) at the “Garden Restaurant,” which is a very special place indeed. After clambering over the ruins all day, Dan and I stopped by the tourism office to ask about bus times from Palmyra to Homs and Hama. We asked the guy on duty, Jameel, for restaurant recommendations as well. This led to an outpouring of enthusiasm for the Garden Restaurant, which is in fact in a garden across from the Zenobia Hotel. He produced ecstatic, handwritten recommendations from former customers and solemnly swore, “It will be a little paradise for you!” Unsurprisingly, his family owns the place. But Dan and I went anyway and were not disappointed—before eating we got to watch the sun set over the ruins and were allowed to explore a garden bursting with olive trees and date palms, watered by burbling irrigation channels. The food was pretty good, too! Garden Restaurant honestly is a nice place to spend an evening, and the prices are totally reasonable compared with other restaurants in the area. You can’t really blame Jameel for a little self-promotion…
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