DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.5073#0185
174
DEIE EL KAMAK.
wandered far from our present road, but this description
is really necessary, and having been thus given once, it
applies to nearly all the paths throughout Syria.
The road to Deir el Kamar, however bad, is charm-
ingly beautiful. After resting a little at a fine foun-
tain called 'Am Bsaba, we wound round a richly-wooded
gorge on a path about two feet wide, and through a
pretty village called 'Ain Anoob, full of sweet geraniums,
where we looked up to the great English silk-reeling
factory of Shumlan, belonging to Mr. Scott, and down
over all the road we had come from Beyrout; then turn-
ing up a breezy hillside, we found our tents pitched in
an olive grove outside the village of Anab, commanding
splendid views of the plain of Beyrout spread out like a
map, the miles of olive and pine-woods and gardens
contrasting with the white town and the red sands, the
blue sea, and the ever beautiful mountains. All the
valleys on this road are richly wooded and luxuriant
with flowers; every stream teams with oleanders; the
pines perfume the air; and every height, if not covered
with a village, is topped by a convent.
Our day had been a short one, but we were very
much tired, and went to bed at once, after dining by
lantern-light under an olive tree. The next morning,
somewhat appalled by the difficulties, not to say dan-
gers of the road, I remarked to the dragoman that I
hoped to-day's would be better: " Mademoiselle," he
solemnly answered, "la route devient toujours pire;"
and with this consolation in my mind we started. Our
way led over a hill that was literally rose colour with
wild flax; the old terrace walls were studded with
cyclamen, and every here and there the wild hollyhocks
shot up in spikes of fine lilac flowers, over a truly
atrocious path, which soon opened on the Wady el
DEIE EL KAMAK.
wandered far from our present road, but this description
is really necessary, and having been thus given once, it
applies to nearly all the paths throughout Syria.
The road to Deir el Kamar, however bad, is charm-
ingly beautiful. After resting a little at a fine foun-
tain called 'Am Bsaba, we wound round a richly-wooded
gorge on a path about two feet wide, and through a
pretty village called 'Ain Anoob, full of sweet geraniums,
where we looked up to the great English silk-reeling
factory of Shumlan, belonging to Mr. Scott, and down
over all the road we had come from Beyrout; then turn-
ing up a breezy hillside, we found our tents pitched in
an olive grove outside the village of Anab, commanding
splendid views of the plain of Beyrout spread out like a
map, the miles of olive and pine-woods and gardens
contrasting with the white town and the red sands, the
blue sea, and the ever beautiful mountains. All the
valleys on this road are richly wooded and luxuriant
with flowers; every stream teams with oleanders; the
pines perfume the air; and every height, if not covered
with a village, is topped by a convent.
Our day had been a short one, but we were very
much tired, and went to bed at once, after dining by
lantern-light under an olive tree. The next morning,
somewhat appalled by the difficulties, not to say dan-
gers of the road, I remarked to the dragoman that I
hoped to-day's would be better: " Mademoiselle," he
solemnly answered, "la route devient toujours pire;"
and with this consolation in my mind we started. Our
way led over a hill that was literally rose colour with
wild flax; the old terrace walls were studded with
cyclamen, and every here and there the wild hollyhocks
shot up in spikes of fine lilac flowers, over a truly
atrocious path, which soon opened on the Wady el