Mesopo-mania: Travels in the Syrian Jezira

The Jezira is a large area and the sights are rather spread out. Visiting them all takes a good 4 to 5 days, but those would be long days. Even if you don't have the time to spend, you can still see the major sights.
Rasafeh: Probably the best ruins along the Euphrates. The dramatic desert setting makes them even more impressive.
Deir ez-Zor: Easily the best town in the region. With an attractive setting, a nice atmosphere, and a great museum, Deir ez-Zor is the perfect base.
Dura Europos: Another set of amazing ruins whose spectacular setting on the edge of the Euphrates is a breathtaking sight.
Other than those there is the culturally interesting Kurdush and Armenian town of Qamishle on the Turkish border that makes for a great stop for a night.

Quick Tips:

As I said, things are very spread out, so try and make a plan of what you want to do. Know what you want to see, but don't get too ambitious.

In the summer the heat is terrible, but in the later months it is quite nice. Still, many of these sights are in the middle of nowhere with few places to find shade and water so always make sure to have plenty of water, a hat, and some sunscreen if you burn easy. The desert sun is strong.

Best Way To Get Around:

Easily the best and easiest way to get around is by renting a car. This can be done in Damascus, Aleppo, or Deir ez-Zor. The sights are very hard to get to and it can be a bit frustrating relying on local transport. With your own car you will be able to see the most in the shortest amount of time.

However, part of the fun for me was the local trasport. I had some great experiences hitching rides and catching mini-buses. If you are adventurous and have the time, it can be a lot of fun.

Just over one hour, one mini-bus, and one hitched ride from a passing lorry later and I was at the gates of the ruined city of Rasafeh, a set of towering walls inexplicably erected in the middle of the desert. The initial size of the place caught me by complete surprise. It seemed completely illogical how such a huge city could have thrived in such a harsh environment, but in its heyday, Rasafeh was a mighty city and an important religious site in the Byzantine Empire.


Although the city is mentioned in the Bible, it seems that it really did not rise to huge importance until the late Roman era, when Rasafeh held a strategic point on the frontier with Persia. It became of even greater importance after the martyrdom of St. Sergius when Rasafeh became an important pilgrimage point. The city continued to flourish after the Muslim conquest, with the Christian and Muslim populations in peaceful co-existence. However, with the arrival of the Mongols, the city was abandoned and never repopulated.


Today what remains of the city, that is to say what the desert hasn’t taken away, are the towering walls, atop of which you can climb to get great views of the surrounding desert, as well as a few buildings inside the city. The most impressive of these buildings is the Church of the Holy Cross, with a rather well preserved and lavishly decorated nave and some wonderful arches. Along with the church is another Basilica in a more advanced state of ruin and an old khan (caravanserai), also rather worn. Even better preserved are the old water cisterns. These vast caverns with their impressive walls are a rather amazing sight. With a capacity of around 15,000 cubic meters of water, they were obviously the key to the survival of this city in the middle of the desert.


The site itself takes a good hour and a half to explore, plus the time in getting there and back, which takes a bit of imagination. I ended up arranging for a trip to and from the nearby town of Mansura for 200 Syrian lira ($4), which is quite reasonable. The nice part about the site is it doesn’t get a terrible amount of tourists, and since it is so vast, it is easy to ignore any that are there. There is also a small teahouse outside the walls where you can stop for some shade and a drink afterwards. All in all, Rasafeh is one of the more impressive sights in the region.

The 11th-century castle of Qalaat Jabar used to guard a vital crossing point of the Euphrates river. Today it is isolated on an island in the middle of Lake Assad, connected by a causeway. Lake Assad is the lake that was formed by the building of the Assad Dam on the Euphrates River in 1973, and it is this 80km long lake that provides the real attraction of Qalaat Jabar rather than the castle itself. Either way the lake, the dam, and the castle all make for an impressive sight.

There are certainly many more impressive castles throughout Syria in terms of preserved ruins. The castle of Qalaat Jabar itself has undergone a lot of restoration to save the more interesting parts of the castle, the most impressive being a large tower at the atop the castle. Still, the castle isn’t the reason that hundreds of Syrians flock to Qalaat Jabar every weekend during the summer; it is the lake itself and the views of the lake from the castle that serve as the main attraction.

From July through September, Syrians from as far as Damascus come up to Qalaat Jabar for weekend picnics and to swim in the surprisingly blue, clear, and cool waters of Lake Assad. The shores of the lake around the castle are filled with various families all enjoying a day away from the city. Local fishermen can be seeing patrolling the shores of the lake for fish and for families to take on boat rides along the lake, to the more secluded picnic areas on some of the islands. If you come to Syria during the summer, it is definitely worth a trip up to Qalaat Jabar for the best swimming in all of Syria and to witness the summer spectacle that takes place here every weekend. Even if you aren’t coming during the summer, the views from the castle are too good to be missed. It’s a bit odd to stand there and think that none of this existed more than 30 years ago because it all looks so natural now, but it is an impressive sight.

It should be noted though that the Ath-Thawra Dam (which you have to cross to reach the castle) is a great source of pride for the Syrian government, so they take great care to protect it. You will be expected to register with the local police when you arrive and to check-out when you leave, and of course all stopping and picture-taking on the dam are absolutely forbidden. The damn itself though, pumping out 1 million kilowatts of electricity is quite impressive.

"This is it," shouted the driver as he pulled over to the side of the desert road next to a dilapidated sign that read "Dora Orobos," a typically Arab transliteration of Dura Europos. I gave my thanks, alighted from the bus, and then watched as it pulled away, leaving me in the middle of the desert on the edge of the road facing another track of pavement that lead up to a giant mound in the distance. That mound was the ancient ruins of Dura Europos, a once mighty city founded by the Selucid ancestors of Alexander the Great on the banks of the Euphrates and subsequently controlled by the Persians and Byzantines.

The guide book said the walk from the road to the ruins was about 1km, but it felt longer under the beating desert sun. At the main gate of the city, an impressive towering structure, I thought about two things. One was why anyone would want to build a city on such a godforsaken piece of land, and the other was how it must have felt to have been a traveler approaching the city on your way from Palmyra, a good 5-day camel ride away. After 5 days of barren desert, the sight of Dura Eurpos’ towering walls and massive gate must have been heaven. I tried to imagine it as I drew closer, what did these walls look like in their heyday? It wasn’t too hard to imagine, and when a small shadowy figure appeared atop the wall to the right of the gate, it seemed to me that it could have easily been a Parthian soldier announcing the arrival of a new set of travelers.

Upon entering through the gate into the ruins of the city, you realize that the gate and the walls are probably the best preserved part of the city. Inside it is mostly crumbling walls accompanied with a sign that says something like "Temple of Adonis," but you really have to take their word for it. The Mithraeum, however is quite nice with a few well-preserved columns and an altar. There is also the remains of a Christian church dating from 240 AD, the oldest known church in Syria.

Making my way through the ruins trying to imagine what the baths actually looked like, I suddenly came upon the real sight of Dura Europos, the Euphrates River that cuts through a deep ravine right along the edge of the city. Standing there on a cliff, among the remains of an old palace, staring out over the Euphrates and the vast, lush fields and farms on its banks, I immediately understood the appeal of the sight. The stark contrast between the desert on the western flank and the fertile land of the eastern flank is amazing, and it is here among the crumbling ruins of this mighty city that you will find some of the best views of the mighty Euphrates.

Sitting at the intersection of two major roads, Deir ez-Zor is easily the most important city on the banks of the Euphrates, where it flows through Syria. With a few good hotels, nice restaurants, and a relaxed atmosphere, Deir ez-Zor is the gateway to the Jezira, Syrian Mesopotamia, and the perfect place from which to start your travels.

In terms of sights, Deir ez-Zor isn’t exactly overflowing with the history and the ruins that you will find in other Syrian cities. Actually, unlike many cities in Syria, Deir ez-Zor doesn’t have much history to it at all, but what it does have is the Euphrates River and the best museum in Syria. The Deir ez-Zor Museum is a recent project that was undertaken by a joint Syrian-German team and funded with plenty of money from international oil companies. Less than 10 years old, this is the best museum in Syria. While it doesn’t have the shear amount of stuff that you may find in Damascus, it does have some extremely impressive pieces and the presentation is surprisingly modern. The artifacts aren’t just randomly set-up like they are in other museums in Syria, here they actually follow a chronological order that shows you the history of Syrian Mesopotamia. Also, unlike in Damascus or Aleppo where some signs are Arabic-English, some are Arabic-French, and some are Arabic only; everything in Deir ez-Zor is labeled in English and Arabic, and the translations are actually good! There are numerous dioramas and all the exhibits are supplemented with pictures. The most impressive artifacts are those in the prehistoric and ancient rooms. Numerous ancient settlements have been found in the Jezira from such ancient cultures as the Akkadians, Amorites, and Sumerians. These sites have yielded some impressive sculptures and jewelry that have provided the best insight into Mesopotamian culture. There are also classical and Islamic/Arab ruins, but these are rather poor when compared with other museums in Syria. The museum gets very few visitors, just the occasional tour bus, so if you hit it up early in the morning, you can be the only one there like I was.

Deir ez-Zor’s other main attraction is the Euphrates river, a river whose name for me has always sparked imagination and wonder. The main part of the town isn’t actually on the Euphrates, but rather a canal. To get to the actual river you have to walk about 5 minutes out of the town center. There you will come upon the river, about 1km wide, flowing mightily past banks of lush vegetation. It is here that you will also find the suspension bridge where locals gather around sunset to enjoy the romantic view and have their picture taken. To the side of the bridge, there are a couple of nice restaurants where you can enjoy typical Arab food as well as a beer or some arak (anis-based liquor) and watch the river pass by on its way to the Persian Gulf. It’s a perfect way to spend an evening.

Immediately after descending from the bus at the Malikiyeh mini-bus station, I was approached by a Syrian police officer. He gave me a stern look and asked in Arabic, "Where are you going?" I told him that I just wanted to go see Ain Diwar. "Come with me," he said and then decided that he also wanted the bus driver to come as well. We walked into an office and sat down. The man asked for my passport, looked at it, and then smiled. He explained that we had to go to the local police station to register. I asked where it was and if I could walk there. "No," he said, "I want him [the bus driver] to escort you." He then took the bus driver’s identity card and ushered us into the bus. Once we were in the bus, I immediately started apologizing. I was sorry to have dragged him into this and I didn’t realize that it was such a big deal to go to Ain Diwar. The driver looked at me and then let out a huge laugh, "Don’t worry at all," he shouted, "everybody has to do this. Me, you, everybody…They are just cautious about people visiting Ain Diwar."

You see, Ain Diwar is a small town on the Tigris River in the northeast extremity of Syria. This is the heart of Syrian Kurdistan and right on the border with Turkey and Iraq, and while the relationship between the Kurds and Syria has always been rather good, across the border in Turkey it has not. Back when the Kurdish independence movement was raging and Turkey was basically in a civil war, Turkey often accused Syria of harboring Kurdish rebels and allowing for arms to be funneled into Turkish Kurdistan from Syria. All of it came to the brink of war when Syria harbored Abdullah Ocalan, the head of the PKK and the most wanted man in Turkey. Although things have calmed down in Turkey and peace has been established, Syrian-Turkish relations, although better, have not been fully repaired and there is still plenty of distrust. Thus it is understandable that the Syrian government wants to keep track of just who comes and goes from this area.

At the Malikiyeh police station, the driver and I were seated in a room with the police chief and the questions began. None of it was harsh or intrusive and always done with a comforting smile. He explained that it’s just procedure and that it has nothing to do with me in particular. When he was satisfied with the information, he asked how I planned on getting to Ain Diwar. I told him I planned on hiring a taxi. "No," he said, "I’d rather have you go with the bus driver here."
So off we went towards Ain Diwar. Again I apologized for having accidentally dragged him along, but he wouldn’t have any of it. "This is great," he said, "I love showing people my home." His name was Fakhri and he was a Kurd. All along the way to Ain Diwar we had some good conversation about Kurdistan and the Kurdish people, then we came over a hill and two sets of large mountains came into view. The one to the east marked the Iraqi border and the one to the north was Cudi Dag, the most important mountain in Kurdish folklore and (along with Ararat) one of the mountains that claims to be the final resting place of Noah’s Ark. Flowing right beneath Cudi Dag was the Tigris River (Delijah in Arabic). The south bank marked Syria and the North, Turkey.

Upon arrival in Ain Diwar, we registered again with the border police and then headed down a steep dirt road into the Tigris valley and to the location of the old Roman bridge that used to span the river. The views coming down the road were the most spectacular, providing a view of the whole valley. All along the road to the valley are vast fields of cotton, the main product of this region, and we could see numerous farmers stuffing the cotton into large burlap sacks and placing them onto trucks.

Finally we arrived at the bridge at the edge of the river. Not much remains of the bridge, but it is still an impressive sight. We climbed atop the bridge to get a view of the whole valley and of the barbed wire and towers that marked the Turkish border. It was a bit weird to be standing atop the bridge looking out at Turkey, knowing that inside those towers are probably numerous guards peering right back at you through binoculars or the scope of a rifle. Supposedly during the more volatile times, the Turkish guards were known to shoot randomly across the border every once in a while, killing a few people a year, but those times are thankfully over.

When we had our fill of the bridge, we headed back to the river bank to dip our feet in the cold, clear water that flowing down from the mountains of Turkey. Sitting there amidst cotton fields and goats on the tranquil banks of the river, it’s a bit humbling to think that a few hundred miles down that river is Baghdad, the sight of so much strife today.

Upon returning to Ain Diwar, we stopped at a coffee shop for a brief cup of tea and to enjoy the view. It’s a truly spectacular view, but I was a bit disappointed that Cudi Dag wasn’t in its usual snowcapped state. Still, it was easy to see why the Kurds hold the land so dear to their hearts, as it’s a magical place. Fakhri confided that he hoped that one day the Kurds would have their own state, but he doubted that he would be alive to see it.

After tea, we headed back to Malikiyeh to inform the police that I hadn’t run across the border and to pick up a few passengers for the trip back to Qamishle. When we arrived in Qamishle I thanked Fakhri, paid him for his services, and said my goodbyes, but before I left, he gave me his phone number in case I had any friends that wanted to see Ain Diwar. It seems that Fakhri is eager to establish himself as the Ain Diwar guide.

The ruins of Mari (Tell Hariri in Arabic) were crucial in furthering our understanding of ancient Mesopotamian culture. Among the great treasures found here were hundreds of statues and a hundreds of clay tablets that provided crucial insight into the language and culture of the ancient Mesopotamian empires. However, despite all this importance, what remains in Mari today for the visitor to see is very little. All the good stuff has been carted away to museums inside and outside of Syria.

The site today is still under active excavation, so perhaps some more impressive stuff will be found in the future, but among the mounds of dirt there is really only one sight that is of any interest, the Palace of Zimri-Lim, dating from around the third millennium BC. What remains today is basically a vast expanse of corridors and courtyards that you are free to explore. Other than that there is not much here to spark the imagination, but for some strange reason that I don’t understand, the sight seems to be a popular stop for tour buses. They will stop here and ignore the infinitely more impressive Dura Europos. I originally wasn’t even planning on stopping by Mari, but since I was already at Dura Europos and had plenty of time, I decided that I might as well hop hitch my way over to Mari, and it really was in the trip the most interesting experiences came from.

All of these sights are rather out of the way, and unless you are on a tour getting to and from the sights, it takes a bit of work. It took me a combination of local mini-buses, some hitching, and a lot of walking to get to my destinations, but, in the end, all this probably turned out to be more rewarding than the sights themselves. On the way back from Mari, I managed to flag down a mini-bus that was heading back to Deir ez-Zor. The mini-bus was completely packed with people, the only seat available being a small space behind the driver’s seat facing the rest of the bus.

So there I sat, towering over the rest of the bus, everyone’s eyes fixed on me and me looking nervously back in their direction. After a few moments of silence, an audacious young guy finally asked the first question all Syrians ask, "Where are you from?" The rest of the bus leaned forward, perking their ears, and awaiting the response. Knowing that I was just a bit over 10km from the Iraqi border, I hesitated a bit, but decided that there was nothing to worry about. So, in Arabic, I told him that I was American but was studying in Damascus. He smiled and started to laugh a bit. When I asked what was funny, he shouted out, "I’m Iranian!" I smiled and the rest of the bus gave out a laugh.

Soon we were in a large game of "Where are you from?" There was a Syrian soldier next to the Iranian. An old man in the middle said he was from Yemen, and a family in the back was Iraqi. We all had a good laugh over the awkwardness of the situation, an American stuck in a bus among a veritable "axis of evil." Then in a scene typical of Syria, we spent the rest of the bus ride joking and laughing without a single mention of politics. For that hour and a half, it didn’t matter where we were from, we were all on the same bus.
The vast majority of travelers in Syria are on a prepaid trip where they are shuttled around in a bus, only getting a glimpse of the Syria the tour guide wants them to see. I feel sorry for these people because they are missing out on one of the greatest aspects of Syria, the hospitality and friendliness of the people. Some of my greatest experiences have been on mini-buses just like this and it’s a shame that most people don’t get to see it.

The town of Qamishle in the northeast corner of Syria, pressed up against the Turkish border, is the heart of Syrian Kurdistan and the home to thousands of Armenian Christians who fled Turkey before the First World War during the Ottoman campaign against the Armenians. It because of its location, seemingly in the middle of nowhere and disconnected from Syria proper, in addition to it’s mostly non-Arab population that gives Qamishle a flare distinct from the rest of Syria.

Looking at a map, it is easy to pass over Qamishle as an insignificant town without much to offer, but the town is a surprisingly modern and active trade center. Its location on the Turkish border makes it the main transfer point for goods between Syria and Turkey, and because of this, Qamishle is a great place for shopping with large numbers of apparel outlets more fashionable than those you might find in Damascus, as well as a wonderful place for jewelry. The center of town is basically one giant grid of stores and shops active late into the night with Syrian, Kurdish, Turkish, and Armenian traders all selling their goods. While Qamishle has no real history to speak of and no monuments to see, if you are in the Jezira region, it is definitely worth your time to stop for the night just to get a feel for this unique town and to witness the extraordinary hospitality of what I think is the friendliest town in all of Syria (and that is saying a lot).
It is also in Qamishle that I tasted the best köfte kebab(ground lamb mixed with bulgur and spices) in my life. Now I have spent years bouncing around the Middle East and I have tasted köfte from Istanbul to Cairo and never have I had some this good. Qamishle is filled with numerous restaurants specializing in kebabs - you can recognize them by the huge chucks of meat hanging in the window, and almost any one of them are sure to please. At the place I chose, a quaint little shop in the center of town, the kebab was juicy and flavorful and served with slices of fresh bread covered in red pepper paste. Accompanying the kebab was a side of grilled vegetables (onion, tomato, and eggplant) all of which were fresh. I also ordered the classic drink, ayran, a drink made from salted yoghurt, the perfect drink for the perfect kebab, and all of it was less than $5.

Beyond the culinary and shopping delights, it is the friendliness of the people that makes Qamishle great. They don’t get many tourists up there, so you will find plenty of people eager to make your stay enjoyable, one of them being the owner of the Mamar Hotel, an extremely friendly Armenian who runs a clean hotel that is a great value. Qamishle also has its share of cafés where you will find plenty of locals willing to chat, and unlike other parts of Syria, they are perfectly willing to discuss local politics.