“The whole infrastructure of
tourism is improving dramatically,” said
Joshua Landis, an American professor and
Mideast expert who runs a popular blog
called Syria Comment (joshualandis.com/blog).
“The spate of new boutique hotels and
restaurants has shown the moneymaking
potential of Aleppo’s Old City. But the
pitch is to go now, before the masses
arrive.”
What makes Aleppo unique is
its blend of Ottoman, Armenian, Jewish and
French influences, owing to its historic
position at the crossroads of empires.
Bright-green domed mosques rub shoulders
with Armenian cathedrals, Maronite churches
and even a synagogue. Its setting amid
rolling plains dotted with olive groves and
the ruins of dead cities calls to mind a
scene out of “One Thousand and One Nights.”
Aleppo may also boast the
Arab world’s most impressive souk, a
sprawling network of noisy corridors and
cramped stalls where, for the past seven
centuries, every kind of spice, sweet, soap,
silk, dried fruit, carpet, metal, jewelry
and water pipe imaginable has been sold. If
you’ve ever wondered what a slab of camel
meat looks or smells like, just wander
through the butcher section. And unlike
bazaars in Istanbul or Cairo,
Aleppo’s
functions as an actual market, not a tourist
trap.
The souk is a city unto
itself. Old looms turn yarn into
splashy-colored textiles, parrots squawk in
cages and deific pictures of Presidents
Bashar (current) and Hafez (former) al-Assad
are everywhere. A buffet of scents — the
sweet perfume of smoke, the laurel-like
smell of olive soap — follows visitors.
Sure, the incessant barking of “Welcome!”
and “Where you from?” gets old quickly, but
a few shopkeepers at least throw in some
humor. “Very expensive. Very bad quality,”
one beckoned to me with a wink.
The best time to visit
Aleppo’s Old City may be in early morning,
when the stalls are shuttered and their
inlaid, ornately carved wooden doors become
visible. At this hour, the city’s ruddy
cobblestone streets go silent, save for the
Arabic pop music blaring from a nearby
barbershop, and the floral patterns of the
enclosed balconies come into focus.
After the obligatory visit
to the Grand Mosque, peek into any of the
black-and-white stone archways to check out
the courtyards of Aleppo’s khans (inns),
full of jasmine and citrus trees. Or climb
the stone bridge to the citadel, an imposing
hilltop fortress completed in the
13th century. Buried within its ruins
are a palace, hammam (bathhouse), temple,
dungeon and two mosques. But the best reason
to visit is the view of Aleppo’s
minaret-dotted skyline.
Afterward, men can head to
the restored Hammam el Nahasin for a
relaxing massage or steam bath. Or, for a
nice chaser, swing by the all-night juice
stand on Bab al-Faraj square.
The square is mostly noted
for its clock tower and the charmless
Sheraton Hotel in the middle of it. In a
travesty of 1970s-era Soviet-style urban
planning, large swaths of the Old City were
leveled to make room for wider,
car-friendlier avenues. In the mid-1980s,
the Syrian government reversed course and
invited the German aid agency GTZ to
rehabilitate its historic buildings.
The center of town is
divided into three main parts: New City, Old
City and Al-Jdeida, the old Christian
quarter. The least impressive is New City,
whose mud-caked modernist apartment blocks
topped with rusting satellite dishes
resemble those in any drab Arab city (though
it does boast some of Aleppo’s best street
food).
Guidebooks single out the
Baron Hotel, erected in 1911, as the place
to drink in New City. While the musty
furniture and faded tapestries of its Old
World bar and lobby are worth a look — and
the moody desk clerk appears as weathered as
the interior’s wallpaper — the hotel has
lost much of its charm. It is also swarming
with loud European tourists.
For a more local crowd, head
to Al-Aziziah, a district of New City
teeming with crowded bars and cafes. On a
Thursday evening last summer, a smartly
dressed crowd, most of them students, smoked
apple-scented narghiles, or water pipes,
their eyes glued to Syrian soap operas
playing on big screens.
Or make your way over to
Saahat al-Hatab, the main square of Al-Jdeida
and maybe the most pleasant section of town.
Children kick a ball around the square as
old mustachioed men play backgammon late
into the night. Some of Aleppo’s finest
restaurants are tucked within courtyards
along this quarter’s twisting back streets.
Aleppan cuisine reflects the
city’s diverse history. It is not uncommon
to order a half-dozen dishes in one sitting
from as many culinary influences, which
might include mezze, or appetizer dishes, of
puréed dips with walnuts and hot peppers and
main courses of soujouk (peppery sausage)
and kibbeh (minced lamb).
And a new wave of Aleppan
restaurants is laying claim to rooftops and
courtyards across town, while merchants’
houses from the Ottoman era are being
converted into trendy boutique hotels.
“Before, you had the
government-run hotel on the square, and that
was it,” said Thomas Pritzkat, project
manager of the Aleppo Urban Development
Project. “Now people are buying up old homes
and transforming them into hotels and
restaurants.”
For tasty tabbouleh salad
smothered in parsley on an Oriental-themed
rooftop, try Al-Hareer Restaurant. Another
Aleppo mainstay is Sissi House, which can
feel a bit stuffy — French-only menus, no
prices listed — but whose lamb kebob
lathered in tangy cherry sauce is worth the
visit.
“Aleppo has a rich mix of
cultures,” said Karam Artin, 20, an interior
design student who was singing at a newly
opened karaoke bar bedecked in red velvet.
“In a few years, this city will be swarming
with tourists, and, hopefully, even more
American visitors.”
New
York Times
