“Why is everyone looking at us as if we are aliens here?” Chaya asked me as we were walking through Latakia on the coast of Syria.
I could not come up with a suitable answer for her.
If Aleppo could be called an overtly friendly place then Latakia was slightly lacking in this regard. I do not mean to state that Latakia was unfriendly, I just mean that all of the “Hellos” and “welcome to Syrias” of Aleppo were not present here. Rather the people just seemed to ignore our presence all together. The contrast between these two cities was sharp.
Wade from Vagabond Journey.com
in Damascus, Syria- April 19, 2009
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We stayed at the Safwan Hotel near the port of Latakia. We were given a couchsurfer’s discount by the owner’s son, Mohammad. It was a good price and we took it. Mohammad turned out to be a couchsurfer at heart even though he ran a hotel.
Latakia is known for its special type of pipe tobacco, so I came here to see if I could find any. I could not. It seems as if all the Latakia tobacco is now grown and processed on Cyprus.
The way of our times.
I became sick on our second day in Latakia and spent the day puking all over the bathroom. It turns out that much lusted over hamburger from the day before was not the best thing for my belly. Travel sickness is a funny endeavor: you never know if you are going to be laid up for weeks or if it will be gone in a day.
This bought of sickness left me in a single day. I woke up the next morning, gave myself a quick pat check to make sure that everything was still functioning properly and then went on my way.