Coffee and Cardemom
Whenever I think of Damascus, I smell the odour of coffee and cardemoms. I think of Damascus when mailing with my friend Gabrielle who lives there with her husband Richard. We went to their wedding a couple of years ago. Our hotel was very close to the Old City, and when we stepped out of the door we bumped into these wonderful bags of coffee and cardemoms. The first time we asked for a cup of coffee in the hotelbar, they gave us Nescafe. We shuddered. Oh, did we mean Arabian coffee. Well, of course. Without discussion they removed the horrible Pulverkaffee and returned with small cups of this wonderful spicy coffee. Our status in the hotel was now ensured. We might be silly Europeans, but at least we drank decent coffee.