Crossing the border from Turkey to Syria
10 August 2009 by gguerini

Probably this was supposed to be one of the most difficult moments of the Middle East trip: to cross the border from Antakya, Turkey to Aleppo, Syria. The reasons are many. Just to tell some:
- If your home country has an Syrian Embassy you must get the visa in advance and not at the border. They even say you might be denied if you try at the border.
- If you are American you are not really welcome in Syria and probably you will wait many many hours, if you’re lucky to get the visa.
- If you’ve been to Israel or you plan to go there (and the border officials find any reference of these places in your luggage) your visa will be promptly denied.
The first problem is there is a Syrian Consulate in Brazil. The second problem is that Leah is American and there is a consulate in the USA as well, but fortunately she has a British passport which she is using in this trip. But again there is a Syrian consulate in England too.
Besides that I left Brazil in February and she wasn’t in England (neither in the USA) before the trip. So because of these issues we were a little bit concerned about getting the visa at the border, but this was the only alternative. While we were in Turkey we tried to contact the Syrian embassy there but they requested a “recommendation letter” from our embassies. Guess the price? US$100. Completely out of our budget. So we decided to try our luck at the border.
We left Antakya close to the Syrian border in the morning by bus. Everything went fine at the Turkish border although my Brazilian passport was almost entirely scanned. Right after that we headed to the Syrian border.
First of all don’t expect to read or talk in English there. The only two English words you might find are “Exchange Money” (which was closed).
We were directed to a line to pay the visa fee. After some minutes struggling to find the amount we needed to pay (remember, only arabic) a friendly guy helped us telling the exact price, in dollars. We were not expecting to pay in dollars and they don’t accept Syrian Pounds, their own currency. The problem is we didn’t have dollars. Another few minutes passed by and they said we could pay in Euros. Why not in the beginning? Ok, the fee was finally paid.
And now what? We went to another room with an incredibly “happy” and “friendly” official. First he looked at our passports, then looked at us, put our passports back on table, smoked his cigarette , drank his tea. After two minutes in this situation he left the room with our passports and came back shortly after. More wait.
Finally another official came with our passports, smiled at me and said: “Brazil! Ronaldinho! Football!” Great, we’ve got our passports back, but there was another step left. We went to the Visa line to get the stamp. It was fast and they asked only few questions and finally we got the stamps. We were about to leave and the official called me at his booth again and said: “Brazil visa yes. Argentina visa maybe. Ronaldinho!!” and we all laughed. There is nothing better to do.
Now we needed to go back to the bus which was waiting for us during all the process. When we within 100m from our bus, kind of running, four or five guards started to shout on us. They wanted to open my backpack. After that they asked where we were from and as soon as I said brazil guess what happened?
“Ronaldinho! Football! Samba! Beaches!” And etc. I don’t even need to mention that they gave up on looking inside of my backpack, do I?
Sometimes God saves, but in many others ways, Ronaldinho does.
Welcome to Syria!









