We met Ibrahim at The Monastery, which is about an hour climb north of Petra’s centre, on an ancient rock-cut path of about 800 steps. (800 STEPS!!! Yes people, another sporting achievement of the Guillaume-and-Eve team!!!).

Such a great look, 100% black, with charcoal eyes and a great mane of long dark hair.

Oh and girls, guess what? He’s single! Any takers?*

*Please let me know if you are interested. I have his mobile number

Although Polaroid is as instant as digital, its magic is unsurpassable. Digital upsets people in many countries. For them, it’s all about electronics, computers and the like. Well, in other words just another high-priced good from the First World…

Taking Polaroids of the people and get them to watch the image appearing before their eyes as if by magic was so intense! We were also able to instantly hand out prints to people. They absolutely loved it.

There are now Polaroid pics hung on the blackboard of a small classroom in the village of Phou Luang Tai in Laos, near the fire-place of a Tibetan house high in the mountains of the Nepalese Himalaya, or catching the sand dust in a Bedouin cave of Petra.

Little by little, I think that taking polaroid helped us to understand what we were looking for travelling so much. It’s all about sharing the emotions of the moment. To find ourselves in different universes, meet new people, dive head first into a new atmosphere…

…after all, travelling, like photography, is all about magic.

If you missed them, check out all the ‘Polaroid postcard’, ‘Love from …, xx’.

I am not saying that Johnny Depp isn’t sexy. But he’s already had his turn. Time to move over Johnny and to make room for these sexy bedouins.

In true Indiana Jones style, it was pitch-dark as we walked into the ruins of the famous city of Petra, in Jordan.

We passed through the twisting Siq all lit up by atmospheric lanterns, often only a claustrophobic metres wide with the sides towering 80 metres.

A few crooked turns later, we caught the first glimpse of the majestic Treasury shining through the narrow gorge ahead.

We sat on mats on the ground. Right in front of us, the Treasury was glowing by candlelight. We listened to some traditional music played by the Bedouins, sipping wonderful sweet tea.

The sky was so clear and the stars were out…it was truly magical!

Sure it is a totally touristy experience but, hey, we are tourists aren’t we? Indiana Jones can wait after all.

One of my regrets in Syria is that I didn’t get the chance to meet many women.

While contact was very easy with males – in fact, Syrians are among the most friendly and hospitable people in the world, and we ended up being invited for a cup of tea in Damascene houses more than once – it was much more difficult to talk to women. No matter how hard I tried to smile and say a few words in my broken arabic, they would always look at me with fear/aversion and run away from me.

It took me a little while until I realised that I had a reputation problem.

And I am not talking about sleeveless top or revealing dress here…

Smiling at others, particularly at men but also at women, meeting someone’s eyes and even accidentally bumping into others or allowing others to touch you lead others to question your morals. Not to mention my unmarried status!

No surprises when you know that traditional gender roles and subjugation to fathers and husbands have been ingrained by religion in the minds of women from birth.

Mothers, sisters and aunties pass this mindset on the little girls and so most women defend their second-class status whenever it is challenged.

In the West, women have succeeded in freeing themselves fully through their struggle, especially against religion. In Islam, women do not have parental authority, polygamy is permitted, divorce and domestic violence also, homosexuality is forbidden…

This proves we can not speak about equality between men and women in a religious environment. Only secularism allows to do so. Why must women in Middle Eastern countries/cultures be forced to define themselves according to religious terminology at all? Women’s liberation does not require the rubber stamp of Islam or any other religion.

This is a man’s, a man’s, a man’s world. This is a man’s, a man’s, a man’s god.

Forget La Perla, Victoria Secrets, Trashy Lingerie and the like.

We have the scoop. You don’t have to spend like a celeb to get the look! The most outrageous and exuberant lingerie in the world comes from a place you’d probably never expect: deeply religious and conservative Syria.

Satin and lace, faux fur, tassels, feathers, zips, and bras which open like curtains, artificial flowers, sequins and even flashing lights…All manufactured in Syria, some that Lady Gaga herself might blush to wear, all showing bawdy creativity and a wicked sense of humour…Welcome to the naughty world of Syrian lingerie!

Despite the islamic nature of Syrian society, it stems from the tradition for brides-to-be to be given a trousseau of exotic underwear by girlfriends, aunties and cousins, to spice up their wedding nights, honeymoons and beyond – into the privacy of the bedroom!

So get ready to bargain H-A-R-D!

The Polaroid project was almost put to an end in Syria.

Eve was shooting with the tripod and the big camera in the souks of Damascus.
I was holding the Polaroid camera.
That was probably too much, too suspect, so that a friendly guy asked us why and what we were taking pictures of…

He was probably intrigued by this big black square box that I was pretending to be a camera! Really, how could you make such big camera nowadays without even a giant LCD screen? Rubbish…

What a nice bloke I thought, but Eve was smarter and of course, the friendly guy happened to be an uncover cop or intelligence official.
Luckily, he was satisfied that we were not some kind of political journalists threatening the national security of Syria.

The Polaroid camera was safe and we could take some nice shots, turning sepia with the heat of the Palmyra desert. Almost some kind of orientalist drawings of the XIX century…

That was the only clue.

Syria may be on the Axis of Evil, but Google does not care (or maybe that’s the reason indeed): Damascus is on Google Maps.
We had no address or street number.
After some tedious Internet research, it was finally located: a white house near a mosque.
It could be one of the thousand similar white houses near a mosque in Damascus.
But that was it! The house where I spent my early childhood, spoiled with baclavas and bootha.

2010. Will the palm tree still be there after all these years?
A few cab rides and we were near that mosque.
Some walk around it, trying to imagine that Google Maps view and we found it.

Rescued from the extensive works taking place at the house, the palm tree was still standing there, a few concrete bags lying on it. As old as me, but much taller!

Do you remember Marge’s 4WD in The Simpsons? Large, red, said to have space for over thirty passengers as well as the driver? When Marge uses it, she develops road rage.

Well, we found it. Yes…The Canyonero, in the desert, near Dubai!

Oh, and here are the pics of our own “road rage” in the sand dunes.

Can you name the truck with four wheel drive,
Smells like a steak, and seats thirty five?!
She blinds everybody with her super high beams,
She’s a squirrel crushing, deer smacking, driving machine!
Canyonero!-oh woah, Canyonero! (Yah!)

Okay, I’ll stop it with the silliness. Seriously though, Dubai is crazy, nothing sounds real or even vaguely sustainable there. And I promise to take more photos of the skyline next time. We’ve gotta make that happen with some helicopter rides!!!

After our spiritual quest in Nepal and the mighty Himalayas, we stopped for a couple of days in Dubai. No holy Hindu sadhus nor Buddhist monks there! Oh no!

But instead six-star hotels shaped like giant sails or shoes or starfish…

Skyscrapers so tall the moon has to steer its way around them…

Immense off-shore man-made archipelagos, one in the shape of a spreading palm tree, ressembling levels from Super Mario Sunshine…

Dubai is crazy. And nowhere is this more visibly expressed than in the city’s skyline.

The world’s tallest skyscraper, the Burj Dubai, has just open in January. It looks like an almighty shard of misplaced enthusiasm: a lofty syringe injecting dementia directly into the skies.