Aleppo and around

Aleppo isn't for the shy or squeamish. As brash and bawdy as Damascus is demure, this city is a total assault on your senses. From the labyrinthine souqs of the Old City, the pungent aromas of spices, cheese and blood from the butcher stalls' carcasses rise up in the afternoon heat. Shoppers jostle for space on the cobblestone alleyways, dodging bicycles, carts and diesel-spewing pickups piled precariously high with goods. The Old City is no dusty old relic, but a functioning commercial hub where past and present blend into one.

Sitting high and mighty above it all is Aleppo's citadel; a colossal structure that once provided the main defence of the city. Its elaborate throne room, hammams and palace remains, a reminder of the time when the military might of the Arabic Muslim empires were at their zenith.

When all the heat and noise get too much, head to the Jdaide Quarter; home to Aleppo's Armenian population. Here, the pace of life slows down considerably. Behind the high stone walls that frame the narrow lanes are lavishly decorated architectural gems of the Ottoman era, some of which have been restored to their former glory.

Outside the city, in the surrounding limestone hills, are the lonely tumbledown ruins of the Dead Cities - eerie, overgrown reminders of Byzantium's long hold over the region, now just forgotten rocks, among which shepherds graze their sheep.