A green mountain rising out of morning mist, a lake catching the first light, pines stretching to the horizon. When photos like these circulate on Syrian Instagram, the comments often ask the same question: which country is this? The answer, says Khaled Nwilati, is the one people are scrolling from. "They don't know their land," he says. "Knowing your homeland is the first step toward belonging to it."
Nwilati, 55, from Damascus, has spent decades trying to fix that. He started camping at three years old, tagging along on his father's Scout outings. But getting outdoors in Syria hasn't always been simple. While hiking with friends years ago, he accidentally strayed into a military zone and ran into serious trouble with security forces. That experience pushed him to formalise things: he founded Me the Syrian, also known as the Syrian Exploration and Documentation Society, an outdoor community that has been running hikes, camps and explorations across the country since the late 1980s.
Under Bashar al-Assad's rule, the formal registration wasn't just bureaucracy — it was survival. Official status allowed members to get permission to travel and reach remote areas that would otherwise be off-limits. The group also took on a documentation mission, recording Syria's landscapes, wildlife and historical heritage. Its catalogue includes sites many Syrians have never seen in person, such as the Roman and Byzantine ruins of Masiqa in the southern province of Deraa and the volcanic caves of Sweida. The discoveries go out to roughly 76,500 followers on Instagram, where the group's photos regularly stun Syrians into asking where on earth such places are.
The writer behind the piece joined the group in September 2026 for a three-day trip to Lake Mashqita, about 30 kilometres from the Mediterranean city of Latakia on Syria's northwestern coast, not far from the Turkish border. The lake is dotted with seven islands; the group explored two of them, camping as they went.
Why does this matter to travellers? Syria is slowly reappearing on the radar for adventurous visitors, and groups like Me the Syrian represent a homegrown outdoor culture that's been developing quietly for decades — long before international tourists start paying attention. For Syrians themselves, the movement is about reclaiming places that war and authoritarianism put out of reach. For outsiders, it's a hint of what Syria could eventually offer: Mediterranean coastline, volcanic highlands, Roman ruins and island-studded lakes, far from any standard itinerary. For now, trips like the Lake Mashqita camp-out are a glimpse of a country being rediscovered by its own people first — which is exactly how the best local knowledge gets built.
Story via Adventure.com.
