Month: October 2025

After my trip to Saudi Arabia, I flew from Jeddah to Damascus. The last stage of my journey.

Arriving at Damascus Airport, the military presence did not escape me. Troops and armoured cars everywhere.

Getting through customs took a lifetime. But being naive, I just could not understand WHY? On the road to the Damascus Sheraton soon answered my own question.

All along the “motorway” were large posters of Hafez al-Assad.
I looked out of my hotel room and on to the cross roads before me; more armoured cars.

In the morning, I went down for breakfast. To my surprise, I saw the Arab gentlemen. I had left him at the bar last night and he was still drinking.

At the correct time, our company agent collected me at the hotel, and took me to his factory. Did I say factory? No, more like a sweat shop out of Dickens. There was a young boy, not older than 12 years of age that ran errands for the boss. 

After a Quick Look around the factory, the boss took me for a drive.
We began with the Palestinian refugee camp. Topped by a sea of television aerials and, believe me or not, satellite dishes!
To this day, I am not sure why I was taken there, but after a trip to the hills, I am sure that I was being used as a cover. 

We always seemed to be stopping, and I was always asked to stay in the car.

Apart from these suspicious meetings, I did find Damascus a beautiful city to visit.
On the way back from the hills I experienced the Syrian country side. Cherry blossom and rolling hills reminded me of the Cotswold’s. I have since been informed that this paradise no longer exists. Ravished by civil war.

In the evening, my host took me to the center of Damascus. And once again left me at the entrance to the Mosque. The Mosque was incredible. It is also where the tomb of John The Baptist can be found.
I sat down to take in the splendor before my eyes; when an old gentleman sat down by my side. He started asking me questions.
We soon started a conversation and which soon turned to Islam. I always remember that he was saddened by Muslims who read the words of The Quran; but seldom understanding those words.

The Quran was used as a pretence to be religious.

I later discovered that I had been talking to the Imam of the Mosque. What a surprise.

Not far from the Mosque was an open air market. Down one of the side streets I saw the biggest rat of my life! The thing looked at me and I looked back at it. He won! I inclined my head to his majesty and made a very rapid retreat in the opposite direction.

The house of Damascus are not at all Arabic in design, but very French. It was difficult to believe that I was in Syria. The shops and restaurants could have been those in any Parisian road.

Continuing on from part 2.

There are two events that I will remember always.
The first was my flight from Jeddah to Riyadh, and the second, my trip to the beach.

In the 1980’s, Saudi Arabia was not as it is today. Internal flights were considered in the same way as the concept of catching a bus.

Flight to Riyadh

I took my economy seat in a 747. Carefully looked around me. I was horrified to see Bedouin with baby goats and even chickens.
Being young, I just sat back and tried not to think about it.

It was not until we were in flight that I really started to panic. To my left, sitting by the window was a Bedouin making a cup of tea with a methylated spirit burner! He saw me looking at him and offered me a cup,
I called the hostess and she confiscated the lot. Two months later a Saudi 747 went up in flames due to methylated spirit burner that over turned. Many died that day,

The Beach

It was only a couple of days before my departure for Damascus. Being a Friday, a friend asked me to join him and his friends at the beach for a picnic.

It was incredible and also unbelievable.
The beach was littered with abandoned cars (mostly taxis). Behind the beach was desert! Flat and secretly inviting. Distance seemed to have no meaning. I could not gauge the distance from the beach to the far distant mountains. But I could imagine what it would be like to drive over the desert in an open Jeep.
If the beach was untidy, the sea was magnificent. Crystal clear, but shallow. It seemed ages before I could reach a depth that allowed me to swim.

Under the waves a paradise of colour and natural beauty awaited me. A Coral Reef! With fish of all colours and shades. I was cautious not to touch any of the inhabitants. I was warned that some of these beautiful creatures can be quite dangerous.

From Part One, I closed my recount of my stay at the Sheraton.

Forgive me for a small break in my narrative, but I must tell you a story about my Uncle Terry. Who, it is said, in many ways I take after. 

Dear Uncle Terry was in Saudi Arabia about the same time as myself. He was working on commission for a company that made wall planners. His job was to sell the publicity space around the planner.

My Uncle was always a very good businessman, and managed to sell nearly all the publicity spaces. All except one; the most expensive one.

He had an appointment with a very important company owner. As he walked up the office stairs, his mind was fully focusing on just getting that last order. He knocked on the office door. And to his surprise found it ajar. Poking his head around the door he found himself face to face with a very attractive Saudi lady. The only problem was that she was completely stark naked!

My Uncle, not being the bravest of men, and knowing the penalty for seeing such a lady in such an indisposed situation, did what any man of his nature would have done. He ran like hell!

The problem remained, how was he going to sell the last space and earn a very high bonus? He would have to go back to the client’s office!

To do this, he borrowed a walking stick from a friend and a set of light shaded sunglasses from another. And this is where he did The Oscar Performance of his life.

He entered the office with a very pronounced limp, and his host, being of a kind nature, offering my Uncle a chair. However, he could not resist asking my Uncle about his leg and dark glasses. My Uncle, without a moments hesitation informed his client that while being given a hot cup of tea, he burnt one hand which made him drop his portable typewriter on his foot, and this brought on a slight migraine that he was prone to have, thus the glasses.

My Uncle got the contract and the bonus.

As I stated in my previous post, “How I started in Export before starting with Eme“, this page will describe my adventures in countries that I had never dreamed to visit.

Saudi Arabia

The first Country that I visited as export manager was Saudi Arabia.
In the 1980’s it was totally forbidden to take any photographs of the Country. But I being a young chap, said who cares, and took a photo with every chance that I had.

In those days it was not Riyadh the city of major importance. but Jeddah. I will always remember arriving at the old Jeddah airport, and the cabin doors opening with a gush of hot air and humidity. It was so intense for a city boy from London that it took my breath away.

Arrival 

Saudi was then a teetotaller’s paradise, and the number of people going through Customs with double vision was incredible. Being one that has never enjoyed going over the top on a plane, kept relatively sober having had just a couple of glasses of wine with my dinner.

Customs clearance took ages! They went through the luggage of all non-Saudi residents; looking for any book, photo, or manuscript that was forbidden. Such as The Bible, magazines like Playboy, and literally anything that they might consider to be of disrepute.

Hotel – The Sheraton

Through the crowds of people, I made my way, and at the taxi rank made my way to my hotel, The Sheraton.
I cannot remember much about the Hotel, but three characterises, for some reason are embedded in my memory.
The First: We were advised to leave our passport and traveller cheques in the hotel safe.
The Second. The swimming pool could only be used on alternate days. One day for men, the other for women.
The Third. Being a Country where alcohol was totally forbidden, I couldn’t help but smile at the Saudi’s drinking at the bar with what seemed to be a Champagne bottle. To this day, I still do not know what they were drinking.

My studies brought me into the realm of Electrical Engineering and Lighting Engineering, but in the 1970’s the possibility of finding a job were as remote as they are today. Therefore, I had two possibilities. Twiddle my thumbs at home, or go abroad and try to pick up some language. I chose the later.

I traveled through France, Switzerland and Italy. Doing any jobs that I could find.

I can remember never have much money, but I can also remember never being hungry.

Vicenza

My luck changed when I arrived at Vicenza (a beautiful city, and a beautiful province). I got my first real job working for a company called “Sivi Illuminazione”. My job was multiple, draughtsman, lighting engineer, and later designer in which I designed an office lighting fitting of great success.

Being used to a lively life when I was a handy man of all trade, master of none, and travelling through Europe, I soon got quite bored with my position. Working for a very large company in Italy, was then and probably still is, boring with very little chance of advancement. Thank God there was a coffee machine.

Milano

After a year I moved to Milano, and was hired by a company called Pollice Illuminazione as export manager. Knowing nothing about export cost me a small fortune in books. But I was very lucky. The owner Dott.Cesare Pollice, and the General Manager (ex-Unilever) were full of encouragement, and both are in my top list of Italians that I have had a pleasure to meet.

I remember one story. As explained, this was my first job as export manager, and there was a family member of the owner that was doing his best not to help me settle in. I received a call from Dott. Pollice to go to his office. I thought this is it. I am going to get the sack.

Entering his office, he kindly asked me to take a seat. He then surprised me by asking me if I would like a whisky! I said yes please! He looked at me for a while and I waited while sipping by whisky. John, he said. I have some bad news for you (here it comes). I wanted to make you export director for the company, but instead I have to choose my nephew (my first experience of nepotism), and when he comes back from his course, he will be your manager. My heart plummeted, and I took another big sip of my whisky.

It must did not workout. He was an idiot, and certainly not a gentleman.

My next post will be about the Countries that I visited, and the experiences that I had.