Syria is littered with the remnants of empires. Rather than constantly being on the move, I base myself in the small, pleasant town of Hama, an easy daytrip from the plentiful Roman colonnades, Byzantine cities, and Crusader castles in the region.

The list of available tours from the Riad Hotel is staggering—it seems like Hama is some kind of hub for archeological sites. From here I visit Qala'at Samaan and Palmyra on separate day trips. I discover that Lattakia is within easy reach if I need a quick beach day. Other options I'm unable to take because of lack of participation are visits to various traditional beehive villages, the mysterious Byzantine ghost towns known as the Dead Cities, and the Assassin castle Misyaf.

Syria's most famous Crusader castle is Krak des Chevaliers. Built on a cliff 2,300 feet above sea level, its looming Gothic architecture has been superbly preserved. Since its construction in 1031 it has withstood earthquakes, occupations by various forces, and held off sieges. It is beautiful and immense, and takes a few hours to fully explore and appreciate.
Unlike most of the other sights around Hama, Krak is easily reached by public transportation—easy by Syrian standards, anyway. Nearby Homs is the true transport hub of Syria, Hama is simply the more enjoyable alternative. From the center of town I take a taxi to the bus station for 30SYP, then 20SYP for a minibus to Homs. From Homs, another minibus is required—25SYP to get to Krak (total trip cost about $2). While the tourists get off, the driver asks when we want to be picked up; I think he's just curious because he never comes back (I return by service taxi to Homs).

As I climb the steps I'm aggravated to find I've forgotten my student ID, my magic fare-reducer. No option but to try the puppy dog eyes. The young gatekeeper invites me to sit and drink shai while he checks the other tourists in. After a pleasant chat, he writes down my name and the name of my university, and hands me a student ticket. Then he asks the inevitable, "Are you married?" Student ticket firmly in hand, I give a sound "yes."

I am intrigued by his reason for not being married, however, a reason I hear throughout the region—that a man must have a great deal of money to secure a wife, to appear worthy to her parents. For many men, this ideal seems unattainable. Everywhere I go, men tell me they literally cannot marry Egyptian/Jordanian/Syrian women.

The castle itself is stunning, full of secret passageways, narrow towers, and my favorite, the slit windows through which expert bowmen fired deadly arrows at approaching enemies. At one lovely rooftop I happily re-encounter a couple I first met at Mar Musa, enjoying the view and sunshine. There is really no hassle from touts at the castle, but the operators certainly couldn't miss the opportunity to plant a rooftop café here. From the knights' hall to the empty moat, Krak des Chevaliers is a must-see in the Hama area.

Hama itself is a lovely town, and a change from the travel hustle. Day trip every morning, pleasant walks along the river every afternoon. The town's claim to fame is the norias. The screams of these giant wooden waterwheels are heard throughout town as they paddle the Orontes River. Crossing one small bridge I stop in amazement as teenage boys dive headlong off a stationary noria into the water far below. I estimate the height at around 100 feet; my heart jumps every time one of the boys does.

The Orontes is pleasant enough to look at, but carries the stink of people. It makes the boys' gleeful diving even more mystifying. In the center of town, riverside teahouses and restaurants are quite popular, but the odor detracts a bit from the scenery.

Hama is tiny. The old city is easily reached and explored by foot, there are no ATMs, and the town shuts down almost entirely on Fridays. It has a way of sucking a person in to its slower pace of life. I spend four days happily in Hama, and am only ready to move on when I realize I do eventually have to get to Turkey, and there's still more Syria to see. When I return to Syria, I have no doubt the norias will once again call to me.

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