Category: Iraq

Thirty minutes into our checkpoint wait and our Iraqi guide comes back ashen faced. It’s not looking good. He mutters something about motherfuckers and heads back out to negotiate further with the militia. Ten minutes later he is back with our passports with the news that we have to turn back. My heart sinks, after 2 hours drive we are just at the threshold of entering Karbala and we are turned back. Disbelief is suspended when our bus makes a U turn and we drive back. He promises us that we will go to other mosques instead but to me that is like landing in Rome and being turned away from the Vatican with the promise that we can see some other churches instead!

Karbala is a muslim pilgrimage site especially for the Shiites. In the year 680 AD a dispute arose between descendants of the prophet Mohammed. War ensued at Karbala and Hossein Ali was killed. His followers venerate him as a martyr and the Shiite sect was born.

Ten minutes down the road the guide gets a call. Judging by his face he does not know the number and for a fleeting second I hope against hope that maybe we have been granted a reprieve. A couple of Iraqi sentences later he hangs up and announces that we have been granted permission. My hope is fulfilled and we let out a cheer.

The walk into the mosque is along roads lined with stalls selling anything from food to clothes and religious trinkets. Interestingly many sick pilgrims are brought in wheelchairs and on wooden trolleys. These are scenes reminiscent of my time in Lourdes. We reach the mosque and are frisked by security before entering. A service is in full flight with chanting and prayer and we walk around the congregation taking photos. This is a massive high ceilinged space coloured dark green but with intricate mirrors, murals and mosaics along the walls and the ceiling dripping with multiple chandeliers. The chanting by the imam produces a serene vibe as does the rhythmic movements of the people. Stunning! The devotion of the congregation is most on show with the inner sanctum which has the tomb of Hussain Ali and people drape themselves on the bars around it to get a touch of the martyr.

Next stop Babylon known in antiquity for having one of the 7 wonders, the hanging gardens. Sadly this place has been hijacked by he late dictator Saddam Hussein. This site was the capitol of the massive empire of Babylon between the 19^th century and the 16^th century BC. Some foundations of the original are still there but in a poor state and unreconstructed. All around is a garish poor quality reconstruction done by our old friend Saddam who wanted to have the site compare himself with one of the great empires of antiquity. One of the locals points to a slope behind a few date palms as the site for the Hanging Gardens but in fact noone knows where the gardens really were. High on the next hill is the massive, lavish palace of Saddam Hussein which has been looted and severely damaged. It is a graffiti ridden epitaph to one of histories nastiest dictators.

Finally I am in seventh heaven! I get blown away by antiquities and that is what the fertile valley betwen the Tigris and the Eurphrates is all about. This was a cradle of civilisation. Fossil remains show prehistoric remains that confirm that this was one of the centres where man evolved from apes.

Subsequent empires here include the Sumerians, Babylonian and Assyrian empires. These early rulers built massive cities developed the first written language (cuneiform) and the first code of laws governing socities and her I am revelling in it all at the Iraq museum. Tragically in between the fall of Saddam Hussein in 2003 and the US forces taking full control some 15,000 pieces were looted most have never been recovered. Nonetheless this is an impressive collection af ancient treasures.

The newly sealed highway out of Baghdad offers a good run up to Samarra. The sky has a smoggy haze look probably dust storms and the thermometer tops 39C. The countryside is dead flat and scrubby fields are lined with date palm. Intermittent villages punctuate the desolation and are introduced with military gun turrets. The shanty towns have a few crumbling houses and mountains of litter and dead, rotting vehicles. Truly post apocalyptic.Every 20 minutes or so has us stopping for a security check which ranges from efficient through to outrageously long and tedious. Passports are checked and the driver and guides interrogated.

Samarra our destination this afternoon was the capitol of the Abbasid empire and the world’s biggest mosque at that time was built there. Today the walls of the mosque remain along with the 52 metre high minaret now known as the Ziggurat of Samarra. It is punishingly hot but we all climb around the corkscrew stairs without rails around the perimeter.

We arrive to to a high wire fence with a massive sign that this is a hard hat area. Almost 2 hours drive out of Baghdad our purpose was to see te archeological site of Ctesiphon, capitol city of the Parthians between 200BC and 600 AD. All we are seeing is recontruction work when we planned to see the best preserved and largest arch from antiquity. The solitary worker on site waves us away but suggest we may be able to drive around the side and get some sort of view. Eventually our driver did find a vantage point but about 1 km away and I was using my zoom lens to get some sort of a shot.

A police car pulls up and the two officers emerge. We start to back off expecting a rebuke but these guys latch onto the 2 young women in our group, especially our guide, Paris. She has blonde hair and a pretty face reminiscent of the actress Cameron Diaz and, especially when unveiled the local guys go for her like a moth to a flame. She of course knows it and plays it to perfection. In the blink of an eye we have free run of the place. We ascend the partially reconstructed building and take pictures. For the price of a kiss from Paris our bus is allowed to take us right to the arch. Paris and her accomplice Kathryn get driven there in the police car. Pictures taken, we leave the police and their phones filled with selfies with the girls to their own devices. Mission accomplished!

Friday is, of course, prayer day consequently there wasn’t much open. The morning sun was particularly fierce as we went to 37C. Fortunately the traffic was light as we started our day at the Firdos square. This site is famous following the world wide footage of the toppling of Saddam Hussein’s statue in 2003 after the US forces took Baghdad. Today it is a smally green leafy square with bare concrete where the statue was. There is no plaque nor signage there to recall the event.

Al Mutanabbi street is open on a Friday and it is a small bustling market place for all things literary and artistic. We battle the crowds and at one point lose our guide. Reunited we wander down to the statue celebrating the eponymous Iraqi poet. I wander ahead, back to a meeting point and wait in the heat. After 15 minutes they have not return so I double back to the statue. None of our group there!

I wait back at the meeting place and after half an hour I go back and fro along the crowded road. I decide I have to retrace my steps through the marketplace and across the bridge where our bus was supposedly parked. No sign of our group and after half an hour there made the call and flagged down a tuk tuk, negotiated a price and hoped that the boy driving it understood where I wanted to go despite the language barrier. Fifteen minutes later I was back at the hotel. Eventually I managed to get the reception staff to locate our local guide and I was back in business.

The afternoon had a real highlight in the Al Shaheed (martyr) monument, commissioned by Saddam to honour the fallen Iraqi soldiers from any wars. Completed in 1983 it consists of 2 x 132 domes like lotus petals encasing a water feature and a massive sculpture of a coffin draped in the Iraqi flag. It is massive, moving and truly beautiful, and like all the tourist sites here we have the place to ourselves.

The final stop was the pretty little sufi mosque with the unique feature of the minaret tower encased within the mosque. In the underground crypt we see the tomb of Chef Marouk Alkarhki.

Baghdad airport turns out to be a pleasant surprise. Modern, very few passengers and the visa, immigration and customs process a breeze. Within 20 minutes of landing on our way to our city hotel. I always take first impressions of a new country seriously and this place is a low rise capitol city. Security is high with police and military very visible at intersections. There is an assortment of jeeps, armoured personnel carriers and even tanks on the footpath. The main roads are lined with thick high vertical concrete slabs to be able to withstand the impact of a car bomb. On arrival at our hotel the boom gate is raised and the taxi trunk is open to allow the sniffer Alsation dog to check our baggage for explosives.

It was late afternoon but I always like to spend my first few hours in any city pounding the pavement and myself and 4 others on our tour head out to see the Freedom monument about 15 minutes from our hotel. Walking downtown we were surprised to see police had cordoned off the main road and bridge across the Tigris River.

They happily waved us through and we only later found out that the lockdown was in response to the 9 rockets that had been launched against the government area, the “green zone” which is off limits to any one other than government officials.

From the freedom monument we swung around to walk along the historically famous Tigris river.

What a disappointment, smelly and unkempt it is really just an open sewer and rubbish dump. Nonetheless we walked along the banks. Spying an alcohol shop, yes a grog shop in Iraq!

We bought a couple of cans of beer and consumed it while waching the sun go down.

Growing up in the 1960s and 70s Baghdad conjured up romantic and exotic images. Flying carpets, Ali Baba, Aladdin even Jeannie from the show “I dream of Jeannie”. It was the stereotypical Middle Eastern destination. Fast forward 50 years and the mention of Baghdad now evokes images of war, Saddam Hussein, terrorism and ISIS. How times change!

I was booked to go on this tour in 2019. I had bookended my time in Iraq with a week in Moldova in eastern Europe before and Jordan after. On my flight over my time in transit in Dubai had TV screens full of civil unrest and army retaliation in Baghdad with scores of casualties. The writing was on the wall and while in Moldova the email came from the tour company to say that the tour had been cancelled on security grounds. Ironically my change to go to Lebanon saw me immersed in their own violent demonstrations with road blocks, curfews, fire in the streets!

COVID and family illness means it is now a long 2 years and 9 months since I even set foot in an airport. The travel “muscle memory” has atrophied somewhat but I am now excited and ready to do what I do do best, travel! I can’t wait to hit the streets of Baghdad, the noisy cars, the smell of old car petrol fumes, wood fires, decepit buildings and people, strange, different people who despite their differences share the same common humanity with me.

Welcome back to those who have shared my travel journeys in the past. I know what you are all thinking, Iraq, WTF??? Nonetheless this is a fascinating country. The history goes back 6000 years and rivals Egypt! At times it was the most powerful empire in the world. It developed the first written language and spawne the Sumerians, Assyrians and great emperors such as Nebuchadnezzenar. One of the 7 wonders of the ancient world, the Hanging gardens of Babylon is here. Moving forward it is the site if the battle that spawned the split in Islam between Sunni and Shia and one of the holiest pilgrimage sites for Shia Muslims Karbala is here.

Enough for now. I am sipping a port in the Emirates lounge and enjoying my last alcoholic drink for a while. Wherever I get wifi I will endeavour to keep you all updated and I hope that my pictures will not disappoint. Let the adventure begin!

We live in an era where everyone has a camera at their fingertips in the form of a mobile phone. Every burp and fart is photographed and uploaded to social media to be admired by all and sundry. It was not always so. It is not all that long ago that photography required a bulky object called a camera that needed to be loaded with film. Once taken the photo had to be processed and printed which took time and cost money. There are not a lot of photos from when I was a baby but one that has always stood out for me has me in my mother’s arms at age 6 months with a sign that says “Bahrain” behind her. We were en route to Australia accepted as refugees after the 1956 Hungarian revolution. My parents fled with almost nothing, it has only occurred to me now to wonder how come dad actually had a camera and film in those days.

As an older child I looked up Bahrain in our atlas (remember those also) and it all seemed so exotic. Well here I am 62 years later as a day tripper to have a quick look around this tiny island nation. For a variety of logistic reasons I organise a day trip with a tour company to get me around to see all of Bahrain as I am only here for 20 hours. Imagine my surprise when an empty bus rolls up to pick me up. Today there is only one booking, me! Bahrain turns out to be a surprise packet. In antiquity this was a verdant fertile land abundant with animals. The locals here were not nomadic Bedouins and actually settled and established cities with sophisticated infrastructure for its time. There are archaeological sites here that go back 5000 years. Mixed in there is a bit of Portuguese occupation, pearling and since the 1930s “black gold”, oil

About 5 years ago Suzanne and I had booked and paid for a couple of weeks holiday in the Middle East including 3 days in Petra. Her mother’s unexpected illness and protracted time in ICU resulted in cancellation of that trip. Now that I have been here it’s a blessing in disguise. Due partly to foot problems Suzanne is not actually able to walk any distance without significant pain. This is a venue for keen, moderately fit walkers and the distances and steepness of the terrain are a surprise. Had we have come here together with me wanting to walk everywhere it may have resulted in divorce proceedings.

Around 300 BC an obscure Arab tribe called the Nabateans controlled most of what is now southern Jordan. This was a prominent trading route and they grew wealthy catering too and taxing the caravans that passed through. They carved the magnificent buildings here out of the mountain faces and it is every bit as impressive as the pictures portray. The approach is in through a narrow impressive canyon named Al Siq.  The mountains soar above you on either side for a kilometre and then suddenly it is there! Named the Treasury for legends of hidden wealth it is actually a royal tomb carved 50 metres high into the solid rock and there is no treasure. The columns are ornately decorated and it defies comprehension that this could be achieved with the rudimentary technology of over 2 millenia ago.

The best time to visit is at opening which is 6:30 am before the rays of the sun actually hit the façade. It glows a soft pastel pink rose colour, which becomes sandstone yellow later in the day. Coming early also means that you almost have the place to yourself. It is peaceful as well as magnificent. Later in the day when buses have disgorged literally thousands of people it loses its magic. The whole area becomes a veritable zoo, noisy crowded and people posing outlandishly for photos.

From the Treasury the rest of what was a major trading city stretches 8 km with temples, theatres and tombs. Beyond that it’s another steep and arduous 90 minutes out to the similarly impressive but built later Byzantine monastery. That is the bare minimum here and that is only one way. There are multiple other walks, inevitably all steep and uphill that are worth doing. Suddenly it is 4pm and I have walked solidly for around 9 hours with a break for lunch. Exhausted but happy I head back up the hill to my hotel.

 

My hurried exit from Lebanon stands in stark contrast to the almost western modernity of Jordan. This small country is almost completely landlocked and a haven of political stability in a veritable sea of chaos. I have rented a car here and while the traffic is a bit disorganised it is nothing compared to the rest of this region and Lebanon is a prime example. As I drive north of Jordan the situation is underlined by road signs. Two in succession point to exits and say “Iraq border” and Saudi border”” respectively. Further north a sign says “Syria border”. No doubt tomorrow when I am driving south there will be signs “Israel border”.

I have an all too short 4 days here and my prime objective is of course one of the 7 wonders of the world, Petra. I have dreamed about seeing Petra since I first started travelling some 40 years ago. More recently the rest of the world “discovered” Petra after Indiana  Jones holy grail movie and now it receives thousands of tourists every day.

First, though I drive 1 hour north of the capitol of Amman to Jerash. Jerash is one of the best preserved complete Roman cities in the world. It is a huge site that was, under the emperor Hadrian, for a short time the capitol of the Roman empire. Apart from the amazing state of preservation what strikes me most about this site is that as you walk along the long main colonnaded street, the cardo, you actually feel as though you are walking through a town. There are gateways, cobble stoned roads with grooves made by chariot wheels still evident, the hippodrome for chariot races, 2 theatres for arts, central water fountains to supply the town’s needs.

 

Jordan is, of course, not without its share of biblical sites bordering down south with Israel and Palestine. As this has been effectively a war zone for most of the 20^th century there has been little done in the way of exploration here. In 1996 along the Jordan River archaeologists identified the site where John the Baptist baptised Jesus. The discovery has since been ratified by historians and church authorities and the area which is militarily sensitive as the Jordan River is the border  between Jordan and Palestine has been opened up to tourism. Arriving at the site I am unimpressed by the Jordan which looks more like a swampy, muddy puddle but deeply moved by the history of the actual baptism site. This has become a “pilgrimage” site for Christian tourists who come in groups, dress in white robes and immerse themselves in the unappealing muddy water singing hymns.

 

From there it is a long but beautiful drive along the Dead Sea which, at 430 metres below sea level is the lowest point on earth. It is warmer and more stifling down here but the sea is beautiful and there is not another car on the road. It is a popular pastime to do into the water and float in this super salty water where buoyancy is maximised but I have no time for that. I complete the day with a steep walk up a hill to see the cave where the old testament’s Lot sheltered after fleeing Sodom and Gomorrah. The history here is truly mind blowing!

I am sitting in one of the few open restaurants for lunch sipping on a magnificent Lebanese red. This is my last day in Lebanon and I fly out at lunch time tomorrow. The What’s App flashes me a message from my driver for the 3 days sightseeing. “There are some rumours about closing the airport road from all sides with huge sand and rock hills”. Today the protests have turned ugly and I trust Mohammed implicitly. He has nothing to gain by warning me. A flurry of interchanges ensues and I scoff the rest of the wine and go back to pack up. I am packed and ready in 20 minutes. Mohammed drives the backways trying to avoid both the protesters and the army roadblocks. We pass by the outskirts of town and look down at heaving mass of humanity, 1000s of protesters filling city streets. The friendly protesters at road blocks from yesterday have turned nasty and I see them threaten and intimidate drivers along the way. We are spared. Mohammed has organised the closest hotel to the airport some 3 km away and should be just beyond any attempted blockade. I could easily walk that with my pack in the morning if need be. May Allah bless Mohammed!

The morning started uneventfully enough. There were more cars on streets and more shops open. The billows of smoke from the fires on the roads yesterday were also gone so I assumed that things had settled. I planned to revisit our Lady of Lebanon about half an hour away to light a candle for Nana, Suzanne’s mum. She was always one for lighting candles in churches as a prayer for anyone who was sick. The Uber driver spoke almost no English but as we are detoured off the motorway by an army blockade he drops a bombshell that all roads into and out of Beirut would be closed by the army in half an hour leaving me stranded out of town. I am out on the streets in a shot and hightail it into town. Today absolutely everything is closed there are more soldiers with riot gear and a large protest group marches past me. I take a couple of pictures downtown and Uber back to my accommodation.

This is all new to me. In 40 years of travel, I have come close to being bombed in Peru, I have been interrogated by twitchy Zambian police but never watched a possible revolution unfold in front of me. While it makes for a ripping yarn I will be glad to be leaving tomorrow for the safety of neighbouring Jordan!

My only 2 images taken in downtown Beirut on the last day.