The better part of the day was spent walking up and down streets ranging from alleys to boulevards in old town which now was bustling with life. From spicy (but of poor quality) lingerie to candy or toys, pretty much everything had a stall or two. Smells of spice mixed with horse dung or nagilah (fruity tobacco smoked through a water pipe) would have teleported us back in time a millennia or two if it weren’t for the cellphone-stalls.
Since our feet wasn’t completely mangled, we decided to check out the newer parts of Damascus again and of course treated ourselves a decent milkshake on the way. After ending up in a park just contemplating for some time we headed back to the hotel. We had reserved tables at Elissar, a restaurant that was highly recommended in our edition of Lonely Planet.
By a mix of black magic, luck and Mirsada’s eyesight we managed to get to the restaurant in less time than expected and got there only fashionably late. Since past dinners had been only mezze or a bunch of appetizers we decided to go straight for a main course and a small bottle of arrac, the local spirit which seemed to be the same thing as ouzo.
Said and done, apparently these small bottles were about half a liter each. Mirsada surely made an impression after ordering her meat rare and later outdrink yours truly. A long day of walking in the heat with little food and water could have made this an interesting night but since we were getting up around 0500 next morning we left before things got out of hand.