Back on the road.

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The notion of the Middle East as a treasure trove of ancient wonders and colourful characters has been replaced over the years by the idea that it is a haven of terrorists and trouble. And the journey to and from the once grand trading city of Palmyra in Syria encompasses both. The American government has accused Syria of allowing insurgents into neighbouring Iraq and the Damascus-Baghdad road is the artery jihadists need to travel on to enter the troubled country.

The scenery was as barren as the road was straight. The only respite from the visual monotony was the many road signs to Baghdad. Perhaps this is the US' problem with Syria, their signposting is just too clear? However, the timeworn caravan city of Palmyra (see box out) offered a rich and welcome contrast to the perception of a troubled region. Before long we sprinted across the desert back to Damascus. The Syrian capital's old town matches the alleyways of Aleppo in the otherworldly and exotic stakes.

Such was the road trip's tight schedule we only had a day to explore the city's narrow passageways and giant souq. There was something different around each corner - a multitude of minarets or another maze of pathways leading on to another ancient discovery. And wherever we went we were enthralled at the Middle East of yesteryear.

Walking the many alleyways you realise you don't just visit Damascus, you experience it; and its scenes embody a reality some now view as a bygone age. Unfortunately we were unable to stay to explore further as soon had to make our way on to our third country. Most journeys blend into one, but our three-hour cab ride to Jordan's capital Amman will live long in the memory.

Lord Lucan was a murdering British aristocrat (allegedly) who on the night of 7 November, 1974, brutally bludgeoned the family nanny to death. The truculent toff then disappeared creating a national sport to rival cheese rolling, but even after thousands of supposed sightings since that fateful night, no one is sure if Lucan is either dead or in hiding - until now.

Our cabbie was none other than the aggressive aristocrat. Age may have weathered his upper-class facial features and a grey receding mop had replaced his neatly coiffured black hair, but we could tell he was no ordinary taxi driver. Having crossed the border and left Syria, Lucan was now out of his comfort zone and we began to probe the killer, hoping 34 years of guilt would lead him to reveal all to us.

"Are you Lord Lucan?" I blurted out going straight for the jugular. "My name is Mahmoud," the lying Lucan insisted. But he was fooling no-one. No doubt well practiced at spinning that particular yarn, we soon realised the swanky slaughterer was not going to crack under the weight of our questioning so we said our goodbyes in Amman and headed for the lowest point on the surface of the planet.

For some the Dead Sea is a health resort, for others an important part of the 'promised land', but, for us, the most surreal and painful swimming pool in the world. At 420m below sea level, the lake that lies between the West Bank and Jordan is the deepest hypersaline lake in the world. In plain English - it's salty, very salty. The upshot of this is that its waters offer up an unusual buoyancy that anyone with a sense of fun would find fascinating and anyone with sensitive skin painful.

The sense of the surreal you get when reading a newspaper bobbing on top of the surface of the salty lake is stupendous. And while we may have been gazing across at the Holy Land, no amount of walking on water, well, lying on it, could convince us that we were anything other than mere mortals - even after we covered ourselves in Dead Sea mud, which many believe to possess special powers.

With the clock against us we had to leave this spectacular natural and spiritual landscape and head south. Having taken in another crusader castle perched precariously on top of one of the many 'mini mountains' that make up Jordan's stunning scenery, we were ready to fully unleash our inner Indiana Jones.

And there is no better place to pretend you are the intrepid archaeologist than at Petra. The ancient city remained unknown to the Western world until 1812 when Swiss explorer Johann Ludwig Burckhardt stumbled upon it. His initial impression upon finding the ancient city was the same as ours - one of jaw-dropping excitement.

Inhabited since prehistoric times, it was an important crossroads between Arabia, Egypt and Syria. Petra is half-built, half-carved into the rock, and surrounded by mountains riddled with labyrinthine passages. It is a huge, stunning sight unmatched anywhere on the planet.

The famous Treasury building is reached by a 30-minute stroll though the Siq - a journey almost as spectacular as the destination. It was along this cleft in the looming cliffs that both Indiana Jones, in 'The Last Crusade', and Burckhardt, two centuries earlier, wandered before coming to the dark natural passageway's end. There, glimmering enticingly in the sunshine, was an imposing yet beautiful edifice hanging onto the sheer, dusky pink, rock-face and dwarfing everything around it.

Although more than 2,000 years old, the grandeur of the city remains and our two-week adventure was well worth it for the day's discovery at Petra alone.

Dashing even further south Jordan's rocky terrain gave way to the Middle East of everyone's imagination - barren inhospitable desert - the land of Lawrence of Arabia and the Arab Revolt of 1917-18. This was to be our last image of Jordan as we passed through the Wadi Rum landscape and made headway towards our last country on the list.

After taking the three-hour ferry trip to Egypt from Aqaba, we got in some needed relaxation by the Red Sea. A known haunt for divers, the waters surrounding Dahab are home to thousands of colourful and strange looking fish. However, by this time, not even two days of diving, snorkeling and lying by the beach could re-energise what was now a haggered group of guys. The tremendous trip had visibly taken its toll as we staggered to our final destination.

We made our way to Cairo via a quick early-morning climb of Mount Sinai where, according to the Bible, God gave Moses the Ten Commandments. And because of the religious significance we shared the journey to the summit with a thousand or so pilgrims who insisted on singing hymns all the way up - a slightly annoying musical accompaniment to watching the sunrise over the desolate Sinai peninsula.

Just five hours later we were in Cairo - home to the only ancient Wonder of the World still in existence. At this stage, while it would be wrong to say we had grown tired of ancient ruins,A there was a sense that seeing as the pyramids had been there for nearly 4,000 years they could wait a few more to be graced by our presence.

A round of golf seemed far more appealing and so a trip to see the famous triangles was jettisoned. Uncultured? Probably. Understandable after visiting Crac des Chevaliers, Palmyra and Petra? Definitely.

For those of you reading this with furrowed brows fuming at such an oversight - hold it right there. Luck, the one commodity we seemed to have had throughout the trip, was with us. The course where we were to do battle for the 'Cairo Classic Golf Tournament 2008' lay no more than 400 metres from the great pyramid of Giza. The ancient wonder of the world peered over every shot we made - the one interested spectator of a golf competition that lacked even the mearest hint of skill.

From here it was a mad dash across the heaving streets of Cairo to the airport and the end of a memorable adventure. Four countries and two world wonders in 14 days? It seemed like it was going to be difficult, but it was all rather simple in the end.

CARAVAN CITY

Known as the 'Bride of the Desert', Palmyra was an important trading city lying 200km northeast of Damascus.A Now, all that remains of this Silk Road outpost are an extensive series of stunning columns, arches and decaying temples that hint at its majestic past.

A prosperous caravan station in 1BC, Palmyra became a Roman outpost and a major city-state within the Roman Empire in 1AD. Its foremost ruler was Queen Zenobia, who wanted to expand Palmyra's influence across the region. Unfortunately for the Zenobia, these plans were ended by the Roman emperor Aurelian who captured her and razed the city in 272.

Subsequently, Palmyra was taken by the Arabs and thenA sacked by Tamerlane.

IMPERIAL DECAY

The Windsor Hotel in Cairo, a dilapidated relic of Britain's informal empire still operates today. It used to act as a colonial British officers club - a familiar oasis for Brits amid the hustle and bustle of Egypt's capital.

A trip in the caged lift is not for the faint hearted, while the mattresses in the rooms feel as old as Cairo itself. However, the bar is still well worth a visit, as you can puff on a cigar over a cold refreshing drink and take yourself back to the 1940s and 50s. The grandeur of empire may have faded, but the nostalgia that comes with it removes the dark ideological edges that gave rise to a hatred of Britain in Egypt.

[c] 2007 Al Sidra Media LLC

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