2019 Nov 8 Mediterranean Coast (D400) · Travel Notes

Nov 8, 2019 Mediterranean Coast (D400) · Travel Notes

• I followed the D400 west, leaving the Syrian border behind as the Mediterranean drew near—now distant, now right beside the road—like driving the rim of a long-sealed cauldron of magic. With the shifts of light and time, the sea looked as if different seasoning packets had been scattered over it, the broth turning shades by the minute.
Ancient seaside castles have stood for a dozen centuries; great stone walls and towers remain almost intact. Through gaps in the ruins you can borrow the king’s view from long ago. No modern ships crossed the water; beyond the unseen horizon lies Cyprus, an island encircled by the inland sea. Perhaps the wars nearby have dulled trade, but the castles already tell us that human warfare has repeated itself since civilization began.
Most sites were closed for conservation. After chatting with a castle guardian of twenty years, I was specially allowed in for a short visit. In his guestbook only one entry was from a Malaysian Chinese; I became the first visitor from mainland China to write thanks and praise.
On a cliffside turnout along the coastal switchbacks I rested at a tea stall. A rope swing squeaked with the primitive sound of fiber on wood; bananas and Turkish tea eased the carsick sway. The last time I “drove myself dizzy” was years ago in Beijing’s outskirts.
At a military checkpoint a young soldier flipped through my passport, asking where all those visas were from—pure curiosity in his eyes, and a quiet longing for freedom. The density of souvenir shops along the road announced a tourist town ahead. With no fixed plan, the best moments were the unplanned ones: ruins flickered past on both sides, a grand theatre’s arch, Roman columns scattered by the roadside, carved stones with floral patterns. In moonlight the mosaic floors still whispered of an age of plenty. In the vast ancient city there wasn’t a soul—only cats slipping through, their sounds dissolving loneliness.
At the road’s end a cluster of stone columns still leaned on one another after so many centuries. Tonight I’ll sleep beside this temple and keep it company, waiting for tomorrow’s first ray of sun.

● 2019年11月08日 鳗游随笔
● 沿着D400一路向西，开始远离叙利亚边境，地中海慢慢的靠近，时而遥望，时而紧贴，像行驶在一个尘封已久的魔法锅边缘，随着时间和光线的变化，海面上就像被撒上了不同的调料包，这锅里的汤在幻化着各种色彩。一座座古堡在岸边一站就是十几个世纪，巨石城墙和塔楼依然完好如初的矗立着，从残垣断壁的缺口可以看到当时国王一模一样的视角体验。海面上一艘现代化的轮船都没有，看不见的尽头是塞浦路斯，一座陆间海围绕着的大岛，可能是因为这周边战事不断导致贸易萧条的原因吧，不过古堡的形制也已经告诉我人类的战争从文明还开始就没有停歇的重复上演着。大部分遗迹都已经关闭，进入了修缮保护，在和一个二十年的城堡守护者的攀谈下，被特殊的允许进入少许时间，在守护者留言薄上只有一个来自马来西亚的华人写下少许文字，我作为第一个大陆中国人也留下了感谢与赞美。在沿海盘山路高处路边小摊贩准备的茶座上小歇，树上的秋千荡漾起来发出原始绳索摩擦木头的吱呀呀声，香蕉和土耳其茶有效的缓解了晕车的不适，上一次把自己开晕还是十几年前在近郊的怀柔。经过军检站，士兵小哥翻弄着我的护照而好奇地问这里面的签证都是哪里的，对视中满是纯粹好奇和流露出对自由向往的眼神。路边礼品店的数量说明即将到来的是旅游城市，没有计划的不期而遇是最大的亮点，遗迹的残影在路两侧掠过，大剧院的巨型石拱门，散落在路边的各种规制罗马石柱和嵌有花草纹路的大块巨石，月光映着马赛克地板画表现着盛世的奢华，偌大的古城没有一个人，猫咪穿行发出的响动让人消除了孤独和寂寞。路的尽头是依然相互扶持矗立十几个世纪的石柱，今晚我就睡在着神庙的旁边，陪他一起凝视明早的第一缕阳光。