Rediscovering Syria: Adventure Seekers Explore a Nation Healing from War

After Years of Division, Outdoor Enthusiasts Venture Into Once-Forbidden Territories

In the golden light of early morning, Samer Makhlouf adjusts his backpack and surveys the rugged landscape before him. The 32-year-old Damascus native stands at the edge of a hiking trail that, until recently, was completely inaccessible to him. For nearly a decade and a half, the thought of freely exploring his homeland was nothing more than a distant dream. Today, it’s his reality.

“There’s a profound sense of reclamation in these journeys,” Makhlouf explains, his voice carrying the quiet intensity of someone who understands the privilege of movement. “We’re not just hiking through nature; we’re reconnecting with parts of our national identity that war had stolen from us.”

Makhlouf is part of a growing movement of Syrian adventure enthusiasts who, in the wake of the country’s devastating civil war, are venturing into previously forbidden territories. Their explorations represent more than mere tourism—they embody a nation’s tentative steps toward healing and rebuilding a fractured relationship with its geography.

The Lost Years: How Conflict Redrew Syria’s Internal Boundaries

The Syrian civil war, which raged from 2011 until its official conclusion last year, fundamentally altered how citizens navigated their own country. What once required a simple bus ticket or family road trip transformed into impossible journeys across dangerous frontlines, military checkpoints, and territories controlled by competing factions. The conflict effectively created internal borders more impenetrable than many international ones.

For ordinary Syrians, the country became a patchwork of inaccessible zones—places they knew existed but couldn’t reach. Historical sites, natural wonders, and even family homes became unreachable destinations, preserved only in pre-war photographs and stories passed between generations.

“My children grew up knowing only their neighborhood and a few safe areas,” says Layla Khoury, 45, a schoolteacher from Homs who recently joined a guided expedition to the ancient ruins of Palmyra. “They learned about Syria’s treasures from textbooks, never believing they would one day see them with their own eyes.”

The psychological impact of these divisions was profound. An entire generation came of age understanding their homeland as a fragmented space, where movement was restricted and spontaneous travel unthinkable. For many, Syria existed more as an abstract concept than a physical place they could fully explore.

Pioneers of Peace: The Movement to Reclaim Syrian Landscapes

The seeds of Syria’s adventure tourism revival were planted even before the conflict’s formal end. In 2018, amid the uncertain calm of ceasefire agreements, a small group of outdoor enthusiasts began organizing weekend hiking expeditions to areas recently declared secure.

What began as informal gatherings announced through whispered invitations and private social media groups has evolved into a structured movement with regular events and growing participation. Groups like “Syria Hikers Collective” and “Discover Syria Again” now organize weekly expeditions to mountains, valleys, and historical sites throughout the country.

Rami Bakhos, founder of Syria Hikers Collective, describes the transformation: “Our first hike had eight people, all friends who trusted each other enough to venture somewhere unfamiliar. Now we regularly have waiting lists of 50 or more for our expeditions. People are desperate to rediscover what was taken from them.”

The movement’s growth reflects a deeper yearning among Syrians for normalcy and reconnection. Each expedition becomes both a personal adventure and a political statement—an assertion that civilian life can and should reclaim spaces once dominated by military concerns.

Beyond Tourism: The Emotional Journey of Rediscovery

For participants, these journeys offer more than scenic views. They provide profound emotional experiences that many struggle to articulate. When Hala Deeb, a 28-year-old engineer, visited her grandmother’s village in the countryside outside Aleppo for the first time since childhood, she described feeling “a physical shock of recognition.”

“I knew the olive groves from my grandmother’s stories,” Deeb recounts, eyes bright with emotion. “But walking among trees she once tended, touching their bark with my own hands—it connected me to her and to this land in ways I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just visiting a place; it was recovering a piece of myself.”

This sentiment echoes across many participants’ experiences. The act of physically traversing once-forbidden territories becomes a form of embodied healing—what psychologists might call “geographical therapy.” By moving freely through spaces previously associated with danger and restriction, adventurers begin rewriting their relationship with their homeland.

The journeys also forge new connections between Syrians from different regions, backgrounds, and perspectives. On a recent expedition to the Valley of Christians in western Syria, participants included individuals who had supported different sides during the conflict. Their shared experience of the landscape created neutral ground for cautious conversations and tentative friendships.

“We don’t discuss politics directly,” explains Omar Sayigh, a regular expedition leader. “But when people walk together for hours, share meals, and help each other across difficult terrain, something happens. Old divisions don’t disappear, but they become less important than our shared humanity and shared love for this land.”

Challenges and Caution: Navigating a Post-Conflict Landscape

Despite growing enthusiasm, Syria’s adventure tourism movement faces significant challenges. Safety concerns remain paramount in a country still dotted with unexploded ordnance, damaged infrastructure, and occasional security incidents.

Expedition organizers work closely with local authorities and employ guides with intimate knowledge of safe routes. Participants undergo safety briefings and must adhere to strict protocols regarding photography, movement, and interaction with local communities. Some areas remain completely off-limits due to ongoing security concerns or uncleared explosives.

Economic factors also complicate the movement’s growth. After years of war and amid continuing sanctions, many Syrians struggle with basic necessities, making recreational travel an unattainable luxury. Groups have responded by offering subsidized rates for students and implementing pay-what-you-can systems for certain expeditions.

“We’re trying to make these experiences accessible to ordinary Syrians, not just the privileged few,” says Nour al-Din, co-founder of Discover Syria Again. “This isn’t about profit; it’s about reclaiming our collective right to experience our country.”

The political complexity of post-war Syria also creates dilemmas for organizers who must navigate relationships with government entities, local authorities, and international perceptions. Many groups deliberately maintain political neutrality, focusing exclusively on the shared experience of landscape and cultural heritage.

Hope on the Horizon: The Future of Syrian Exploration

As Syria enters its second year of relative peace, the adventure tourism movement stands at a crossroads between grassroots community initiative and potential commercialization. International travelers have begun making cautious inquiries, attracted by Syria’s remarkable historical sites and natural beauty.

For movement pioneers like Bakhos, this interest represents both opportunity and challenge: “We welcome visitors who want to understand the real Syria beyond headlines. But we’re determined to ensure that Syrians themselves remain the primary beneficiaries and storytellers of their own country’s rediscovery.”

Government tourism authorities have taken notice of the movement’s success, recently announcing plans to develop eco-tourism corridors and adventure tourism infrastructure in regions now deemed secure. Whether these official initiatives will complement or compete with grassroots efforts remains to be seen.

For individual participants, however, the future looks promising. New routes are being scouted, community connections strengthened, and a generation of young Syrians is discovering a relationship with their homeland that transcends the conflict narrative that has dominated their lives.

As the sun sets over a campsite in Syria’s coastal mountains, Makhlouf reflects on the journey ahead—both for himself and his country: “For years, we lost the freedom to move through our own land. Now, with each step we take, we’re not just exploring Syria; we’re helping to rebuild it—not with concrete and steel, but with stories, connections, and renewed hope.”

In the distance, another group of hikers appears on the ridgeline, silhouetted against the fading light—a small but powerful symbol of a nation in motion once again, rediscovering itself one journey at a time.