Latakia is Syria’s main port, but for Syrians it is much more than that. They cherish the coastal region for its beautiful coastline, pristine beaches, and ancient ruins that date back thousands of years.
On my previous trips to Syria, I never managed to visit the coast. During my journey in May 2026, however, I was incredibly lucky. An Armenian friend in Aleppo had organised a trip for the teachers of one of the city’s Armenian schools and kindly invited me to join them.
They took me under their wing, welcoming me as one of their own. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and gave me the opportunity to see this beautiful part of Syria through the eyes of locals rather than as an ordinary tourist.
We left Aleppo at around five o’clock in the morning on a large bus that Maral had rented for the group of 35 teachers. I was exhausted I had been travelling for two days. So naively I expected everyone to sleep through the journey, but by six o’clock the music was blasting through the speakers and one of the teachers was dancing enthusiastically up and down the aisle. The bus was filled with laughter, singing and clapping, and it quickly became clear that this was going to be a memorable day.
Our first stop was at a bakery famous for one of the region’s favourite sweets, Shabiyet. Fresh from the oven, the flaky pastry was filled with rich cream and drenched in fragrant sugar syrup—a delicious way to wake up.
Breakfast stop for the famous sweet Shabiyet
Everyone raved about the pastry. The owner beamed with pride, and when he discovered there was an Austrian among the group, he seemed even more delighted. Like most Syrians I met during my travels, to please guest has top priority.
What surprised me most, however, was how chilly the Syrian coast could be at the end of May. Expecting warm Mediterranean weather, I had packed only a few T-shirts and lightweight trousers. As I sat shivering, Maral’s mother finally took pity on me and wrapped her scarf around my shoulders. It was such a small gesture, but one that perfectly reflected the warmth and generosity I experienced throughout the trip.
Breakfast stop for Shabiyet, a pastry filled with ashta (sweet custard)
Maral and owners of bakery
We travelled along a road that had been closed for many years. It was heavily contested during the war and remained shut even after the fighting ended in 2017, as Islamist groups in nearby Idlib were still considered a security threat.
My travelling companions told me how difficult it had once been to reach the coast from Aleppo. At the height of the conflict, the journey could take as long as 24 hours, requiring long detours through central Syria.
What surprised me even more was hearing that people in Islamist-controlled Idlib also complained about being unable to spend their holidays on Syria’s Mediterranean coast. Instead, they travelled to Turkey, as the border crossing at Hatay remained open to them. According to my companions, this was possible because Turkey had supported the Islamist factions in northern Syria from the early years of the conflict.
Wadi al-Muluk (Valley of the Kings
Around noon we reached Wadi Al-Muluk. To get there, our bus driver had to navigate a series of narrow mountain roads clinging to the hillside. At times it felt a little nerve-racking, but every bend revealed another spectacular view.
The resort was packed with Syrian holidaymakers. The contrast with Aleppo was striking, especially when it came to the way women dressed. In Aleppo, I had become used to seeing many women wearing headscarves and long black coats, while some wore a niqab, leaving only their eyes visible. I even saw a few women covering their head and face with a kind of bag. Here on the coast, however, women were dressed much as they would be anywhere in Europe, enjoying the warm weather in colourful summer clothes.
It was wonderfully chaotic, so loud and tumultuous that I felt a little overwhelmed at first. Before long, however, I found myself caught up in the infectious energy.
Every arriving group was greeted by a drummer while a DJ blasted music across the resort. As soon as our bus pulled in, one young man ran towards us waving an Armenian flag, while another carried a Syrian flag. My travelling companions immediately burst into song and danced their way through the resort, waving the flags and laughing all the way to our seating area.
Lots of activstes are offered, boat rides, riding a bicycle on a rope high above the water, or swings on the cliffs that went way into the.
I was surpirse how pricey
Burj Islam
Talk about what to see along the road
Latakia
ice-crem shop
Ichruch
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