Fifth Journey Day 115: Bread-Scented Breeze

Date: August 31, 2025
Location: Aleppo, Syria

First steps in Aleppo, in the north of Syria—a city long shaped by trade routes, stone ramparts, and the hum of markets. Late-summer heat presses close; dust rides a slow wind that carries the bakery-and-spice notes that have perfumed these streets for centuries, with the Citadel watching from its hill.

The Air and Light of Arrival

I arrived in Aleppo today. The change from Damascus was small but clear. The air here feels drier and more intense, with a dust that sticks to your skin. At first, the streets seemed quiet, but as I got closer to the citadel, I saw people going about their lives. I saw a boy running with bread under his arm. I saw a group of men fixing a wall. I heard vendors calling from far away.

Walking the Citadel’s Edge

I spent the afternoon walking around the outside of the fort. It's very big, but the surface of the stone is worn smooth, as if time has gently leaned into it. The walls are both strong and delicate. I traced the outline of the stone slowly, watching how the sunlight shifted across different parts of the stone. Some parts of the stone glowed a pale gold, while others sank into deep shadow, almost disappearing into the dust-filled air.

The Scent of Bread

At one point, a breeze lifted just enough to carry the smell of fresh bread from a nearby bakery. The scent mixed with the dryness of the dust, and made the moment unexpectedly tender.

Choosing Stillness Over Sketching

I didn't take out my sketchbook, even though I thought about it. Instead, I chose to walk, letting the lines and surfaces leave an impression in my memory.

A City Held by Its Heart

What I noticed most was how the citadel didn't seem like an isolated monument. It felt more like a heart—its presence was felt everywhere, even in the streets below. I felt small in its shadow, but I wasn't less important. It's more like it was included and folded into a rhythm much older than me. Tonight, I feel the texture of stone, the light on the walls, and the quiet sound of the city.

Travel Notes

• Weather: Hot and dry, about 34°C in the afternoon; pale blue sky with a faint haze of dust; a slow wind moving through streets near the Citadel.
• Scents: Fresh flatbread lifting warm and sweet on the air, threaded with spice-shop traces—sesame, cumin, and a hint of smoke.
• Sounds: Vendors calling from a distance, quick footsteps, the scrape of tools as a wall was repaired, and the soft hush of wind against stone.
• Reflection: The Citadel felt less like a destination and more like a pulse—holding the city together while letting each street keep its own quiet rhythm.

Continue the Journey

You may also enjoy reading about yesterday’s quiet reflections in Damascus: “Fifth Journey Day 114: Breath of the Courtyard.”