On how...

.... I was waiting to have spent some time in the Old City of Damascus to give my first impression. I did not want to be negative about our new home town, but so far, I don't find Damascus a very pretty city, with lots of high rise, houses and appartments that seem stuccoed with brown mud. I have been told though that the Old City, full of history, is very charming and that also the neighbourhood of Abu Romanouh is very interesting (in a none British sense of the word).

... the plan was to go and visit the Old City today, but that worked out differently. Jonny woke up not feeling to great and came down with some sort of bug. Which involved diarrhoea. After having warned me when we got here that I would probably get ill within a week, due to the different water and the poorer sanitisation. Since I was fine, I offered to drive to a pharmacy and get him some Immodium.

... traffic in Damascus is complete anarchy. There are rules, but most people seem not to take them very seriously. This involves overtaking, undertaking, not indicating, cutting off, seriously going over the speed limit and doing something (like crossing the street) and then looking if there is traffic. With Jonny's warning still ringing in my ears, the stories of serious accidents in the back of my head, I was reluctant to drive at first. Since Beatrice was born, I have become very sensitive to the fact how vulnerable you are in a car. Add the unfamiliarity of a strange city and a big car I had not driven before. But desperate times call for desperate measures, so off I went.

... I drove to a bakery knowing there was a pharmacy next door. That turned out to be closed. The other five pharmacies I drove past were closed too. It seems Saturday is not a pharmacy-open-day. There is something confusing about opening hours here anyway. On Friday (the official day off) all Moslim shops are closed. On Saturday all Jewish shops are closed. On Sunday the Christian shops are closed. On the days that all shops are open, opening times seem to be pot luck. Apparently at ten thirthy in the morning you have the best chance to find most shops open.

... although I did not get any Immodium, bought two loafs of bread. Which is quite an achievement by itself. Before coming here, I was hoping that the few years of French occupation left some sort of a bread legacy. Although there is a shop called Sucré and Sallé in the center of town, the main bread eaten here is Arabic flat bread. There are government run bakeries that stock piles and piles of the bread. Loafs of bread on the other hand are not so easy to come by. So I was quite pleased with my purchase.

... whilst trying to find a pharmacy, I was beeped at almost continiously. Beeping your horn is not a sign of aggression here. Well, not necessarily. It can mean, 'careful I am behind, besides or in front of you' (maybe the latter not really) or 'you are in the wrong lane' or 'drive faster' or 'drive slower' or 'hurry up' or 'the light is green, go. Now.' I was beeped at for all of those reasons. Which was not all that strange considering I was going at a low speed to try and read the signs and trying not to get hit by a manic driver. Or get lost.

... I got lost anyway. Whilst completely aware I was getting further away from our neighbourhood, I could not see a place to turn around on the motorway. When I finally did, it was admittedly not the safest place to make a u-turn. But with the traffic anarchy in mind I thought I might as well have a go. Three police men thought otherwise. Three! I don't even know where they came from but within seconds they were knocking my windows telling me to drive on. Driving further and further away and with only the mountains to give me some sense of direction, I was afraid I'd end up in Aleppo before being able to turn around.

... meanwhile I was getting bit worried about Beatrice. She is exclusively breastfed, so there was not a lot Jonny could do in case she got hungry. I was also very aware that he was probably not in the mood to do anything that involved getting out of bed. Other than going to the toilet. Thankfully I did manage to find my way home again and although having woken up five minutes after I had gone, Beatrice was fine. Jonny had to content himself with the old fashioned solution of Coca Cola and banana. And maybe some bread when he is feeling better.