Well the last week or so has been dominated by the groundbreaking results of my Aids test (not suitable for travel, but surprisingly Aids free), purchasing many illegal DVDs, including Lawrence of Arabia, the two superior Indiana Jones oeuvres and the Pink Panther original with Peter Sellers and making pancakes with a fly swatter. New gastronomic experiences have included aforementioned fly swatter pancakes, chocolate french-style waffles and potato on stick which is essentially an entire potato cut into thin spirals and deep fried to emerge ready for consumption - a beautiful combination of chip and crisp. Free gifts this week have been many sugared almonds, some red pepper, a mini wooden pestle and mortar and, yes, the fly swatter. I don’t think the man really thought we would use it as we did…

A few days ago we accompanied Hiba into the local clothes district where the real Syrians make their purchases. That was an experience as their style is about as far from my taste as I think is possible – glitter and sparkles, pink, messages on clothing, fake-ripped and layered with many strange materials. And tight fitting. I believe this is the style of a 13 year old girly girl, but it is apparently worn by most women here under the age of about 30, with a headscarf as required. I also discovered yesterday the baklawa district of town just outside the old city, so of course I was in ecstasy as I had been bewailing the distinct lack of what I call baklawa here in the old town. To top it all off this evening I will have my first oud lesson whilst India has her first calligraphy lesson, so all in all fairly exciting stuff. And we found the Iranian cultural centre so perhaps I may have a chance of maybe re-learning all the Farsi I sort of learned last year.

I think Hiba thinks we cannot cook. It all started with our preparing of Indian chai and serving it to her. She took one sip of it and that was it. She then asked what we normally ate, and we answered, saying, er, pasta, salad, rice, omelette – all standards when it comes to NOT HAVING AN OVEN. She looked horrified and within the space of 24 hours gave us rice pudding, tabbouleh and stuffed courgettes, all of which were utterly delicious. Our initial outrage at the thought that she thought we couldn’t cook (she did start explaining how to make a béchamel sauce) was outweighed by the deliciousness of the food, so we looked hideously grateful and secretly hope that she will feed us often.

We have been to the tomb of St Ananias which would have been nicer if there had not been some incredibly noisy drilling going on at the time. Still, we bought whilst there a huge map of the old town which has markers for every little point of interest. Our aim is to have visited every single one of them by December. We thought we’d start with Azem Palace this week which is in the spice market of the old town. It was pretty much crawling with that awful collection of human beings called tourists, but we spent a most pleasant afternoon chilling in the main courtyard watching the world go by. The architecture is so elegant and really does seem to have a calming effect on people. And no afternoon at the palace would be complete without an arab teenagers wanting photos with us and wandering around the exhibitions admiring the absolutely priceless transvestite mannequins in wigs and full makeup which manned (literally) every exhibition. No wonder there were signs saying photography forbidden, as I am sure the Syrian Government would not want the reputation of there beings no homosexuals in Syria to be tarnished by a tourist attraction.

India’s first calligraphy lesson was a success as well methinks with me finishing off the evening straight after with my first oud lesson. No written music, no English. Still, he seemed pretty happy with me; I think most westerners he has to deal with are a little snotty about the lack of written music and learning by so do la fah etc and they struggle with the difference in intervals between notes – not really perfect semitones here. It’ll take me a while to get used to, but tis exciting stuff indeed and I cannot wait to obtain my own instrument and become an oud master – then India and I can be culturally enriched doing calligraphy and oud in the evenings whilst perfecting our Arabic conversation with people such as Shakespeare.

Ah yes, Shakespeare, now that’s a whole other tale, along with Poetry Club, Syrian TV series, political dissidents and football fan florists which is good enough just with the alliteration. But I also notice that we are supposed to be back at the flat right now to celebrate Hiba’s birthday with her which is why we were at the florist, but apart from that little teaser I must leave the rest of my tale until later this evening, or until the next time I get onto the internet.

PS: so far, we are hoping to goodness that whatever was biting us will not return. After leaving the mattress out in the sun for the day and washing the sheets all I appear to have been bitten by are mosquitoes and only occasionally smaller things. Latest hypothesis is that we had a nasty infestation of fleas which have been significantly diminished by continual washing of clothes and bedding. Either that or the bedbugs have got bored of us. Whatever the reason, I am a much happier person for it.

Right, will tell you all about the rest at a later date, but hopefully not much later otherwise I’ll forget the details and then it’ll be a disaster. This blog has sort of become my diary, never a good idea.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOTHER!!!