One of the guys with the Afghan trip forwarded the following, the result of an interview on the last night in Kabul:
Yahoo! News
Afghanistan, via war and election, by minibus
by Lynne O'Donnell Sun Sep 27, 2:30 am ET
KABUL (AFP) – Getting caught in the crossfire of battling warlords or caught short with dysentery might not be the best selling points for the holiday of a lifetime, but in Afghanistan it's all part of the adventure.
A recent group of intrepid -- some would say ill-advised -- travellers who drove through central Afghanistan had to deal with security forces on heightened alert for insurgents bent on disrupting national elections.
For three weeks they bedded down in tiny guesthouses after days spent bouncing along war-pitted roads in an unsprung minibus, being roughed up by police at armed checkpoints and facing daily fear of kidnap.
Amid the discomfort and fear, they discovered the warmth of people who spontaneously invited them home for tea and cake, as well as breathtaking scenery and some of the world's greatest but least visited historical sites.
Geoff Hann, a Briton who specialises in travel through seemingly inaccessible parts of the world, has been bringing tourists to Afghanistan -- on and off depending on the security situation -- for 30 years.
Leading his latest group of five, he arrived in Kabul on August 2 for a tour of some of the many sites, including the minaret of Jam and the mountainside niches that once held the Bamiyan buddhas, that could make Afghanistan, once again, a tourism hotspot.
But as a Taliban-linked insurgency expands its footprint across the destitute country, the flow of tourists that reached a peak in the 1970s has slowed to barely a trickle.
European tourists first started coming to Afghanistan in 1959, when 600 came to see historical sites on horseback, said Sayed Amanuddin Baha, director of the culture ministry's Afghan Tour travel agency.
By 1977, when Afghanistan was a fixture on the hash-hazed hippy trail, the country was earning millions of dollars a year from about 120,000 foreign visitors, he said.
Since then, Afghanistan has been mired in violence and during the rule of Taliban fanatics from 1996-2001, few foreigners were granted visas.
Things began to pick up after the Taliban -- who refused to expel Osama bin Laden from Afghanistan after the September 11 attacks -- were overthrown in late 2001 in a US-led invasion.
But with the insurgents having re-established a permanent presence in many parts of the country, visitors who come for pleasure are rare.
Hann's group ranged in age from 29-year-old Mark Hansel, an electrical engineer and history buff from London, to 79-year-old Jo Gilbert, an inveterate traveller from San Francisco and one of two women on the trip.
After a day spent bumping over cratered roads, the group would sometimes turn up at a remote teahouse, the only accommodation available, to find they had to share a room and, yet again, forgo a shower.
"I didn't mind the conditions at all," said Gilbert, a former prison officer who described herself as "a traveller and a blogger".
"We became tolerant of each other's foibles," she said, as Hansel mumbled: "It's not like we had a choice."
Hann said he aims for a few tours a year -- 10 travellers being the optimum number -- despite the deteriorating security situation, and finds most problems are more to do with the digestion than security.
"We get people who get dysentery. One lady broke a foot -- she stumbled along on a crutch. Three or four years ago we were caught up in a warlord's battle and we had moments in 2001 when we came up against the Taliban.
"My philosophy is that you could be in your hotel and get blown up, which is fairly unlikely. We are not in the danger area for IEDs," he said, referring to roadside bombs the Taliban deploy against foreign and Afghan troops, mostly in the south where their influence is strongest.
"When it comes to kidnapping, we don't advertise where we're going or what we're doing, we use local transport hired on the spot and I find that people look after us as their guests -- and they want the money," he said.
For those willing to risk a war-zone vacation, insurance costs 200-350 pounds (325-570 dollars) for three weeks, he said, and double that for the over-75s.
Gilbert said she has been traversing the globe since 1976, largely alone since her husband died in 2003.
She wanted to see Afghanistan "outside the urbanised bubble of Kabul", she said. Because the war-ravaged country is in such dire need of help rebuilding itself after 30 years of war, she would like to do voluntary work.
"I can teach, I was a prison officer so I can work with the police, work in jails, as a consultant," she said.
After a couple of days in noisy, dirty Kabul -- where most buildings are hidden behind massive blast-proof walls and barbed wire, and traffic follows no discernible rules -- the group headed north to Mazar-i-Sharif.
That meant driving through the Salang tunnel on what has become, just weeks later, one of the most dangerous highways in the country.
Locals report increased Taliban activity as the insurgents target a new supply line from Tajikistan for the more than 100,000 foreign troops under NATO and US command.
Mazar, a bustling trading cross-roads for Central Asia, is famous for its carpets and textiles, and the Blue Mosque, which is revered by Shiite Muslims and which is under a constant cloud of circling white doves.
From there they drove to Bamiyan, formerly home to the famous Buddhas carved into the side of a mountain 2,500 metres (8,200 feet) above sea level about a thousand years ago but destroyed by the Taliban in early 2001 as idolatrous.
The group visited some of the country's most famous landmarks, including the minaret of Jam in Ghor province, a region so poor that even the capital Chaghcharan has little electricity or running water.
Not far from the minaret, the group had an unnerving encounter when their minibus was flagged down by two armed men.
"It was a nervous time for about five minutes," said Londoner Kulvinder Matharu, 44, a telecoms engineer and keen amateur photographer.
"I was thinking we'd have to get the dollars out and pay these people off," he said, the memory of his fear still fresh.
In contrast, he said, he was delighted by the charm and hospitality of the western city of Herat, regarded as Afghanistan's most cultured city and where Iran's influence is strong.
"In Kabul it's edgy and you feel slightly under siege but Herat seemed like a different country," Matharu said.
"Out of the blue, this family asked us to share cake and tea with them, and I thought that was wonderful."
Security considerations forced Hann to change some plans -- arriving by air rather than driving through the famed Khyber Pass from Pakistan and spending time in Kabul around the election rather than venturing too far from safety.
Nevertheless, Gilbert said the August 20 poll "was one of the reasons I was glad to be here at this time, to see how involved the people were everywhere we went in the election".
The vote has since descended into farce amid allegations of fraud that could force President Hamid Karzai into a run-off against his main rival, former foreign minister Abdullah Abdullah.
Copyright © 2009 Yahoo! Inc. All rights reserved.
NB: I didn't start serious traveling until 1986 and while I did work a year in a prison I managed thirty-plus years as a probation officer. (Ah, the confusion continues between probation, prison and parole!)
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Conferences, culture and modern plumbing - two weeks in the UK!
Once a year, I must get my UK fix - while others head to New York or Paris, I go to London. This year worked well for I was able to combine two conferences with some play time. First, I signed on for the Oxford Conflict Conference which focused on The Making of the Modern Middle East. This was consistent with my interest in that area plus my participation with Global Exchanges’ December Israel-Palestine study tour. Following that was an Ancient World Conference at the University of London, focused on Egypt - I wouldn’t have made the trip for that but since it was there and I was there, why not? And then came several days of seeing friends met on various tours and going to theatre - at best, combining the two.
I knew the potent were positive: at the start, United Air upgraded me from economy to business class. And that’s it how it continued. The Heathrow-Oxford bus timing was perfect; the Christ Church college room was newly refurbished and ideal for me. I had stayed at St. John’s College last year when I attended to the TE Lawrence symposium. St. John’s was put to shame in comparison to the grandeur of Christ Church, particularly the magnificently high vaulted ceiling dining room used in Harry Potter films. One of my fellow attendees who had studied at Christ Church, commented he felt so unworthy - and I could understand that.
The conference was held in a small modern lecture hall with good sound. It was put together by the Middle East Centre at St. Anthony’s College, Oxford with experts from the UK, Australia, Egypt, America, and the Middle East. Starting with TE Lawrence, talks progressed through the mandates, the Arab-Israeli conflicts, Egypt’s role, Hamas and Hesbolla, security issues and Al Quaeda ending with missed opportunities for some kind of resolution. It seemed Israel was mostly responsible for dropping the ball - or refusing to catch it.
For the most part, wonderful, engaging speakers. With an equally bright and knowledgeable audience including PhDs, retired and active Navy personnel, government staff and politically interested souls like myself. There were about 120 attendees (including thirty Elder hostelers), primarily Brits and Americans with a few assorted Europeans.
A pre-conference day gave me a chance for a walking tour of Oxford, including visiting several other Oxford colleges and a boat trip to Iffley with its lovely little ancient church, St. Mary’s. Mid-conference, we packed up and went to Waddesdon Manor, the home of the Rothschilds who were active in supporting early Jewish settlements in Palestine. It was an absolutely fascinating place: the Manor is actually a museum. The grounds are extensive. All part of a bygone era of “Conspicuous Consumption” as Veblen termed it.
I ws so stimulated by the conference, both speakers and attendees, that I didn’t sleep much but kept rewinding the tapes in my head. One of the speakers I met during last year’s TE Lawrence Society symposium and I did have opportunities to talk with him. In fact, all the speakers made themselves available to the conference attendees for questions and discussions. And comfortably housed and fed, I did hate to leave.
But, moving onto the London: I had miscalculated in booking my hotel, so had no place to stay the first night. Ended up in a small hotel in Bloomsbury where I had stayed in years past. It had deteriorated into a backpackers place: bed but no breakfast. Cheap and relatively clean. The rest of the time I was at The Celtic Hotel at Russell Square: recently repainted with bright new facilities. A rabbit warren of rooms throughout - three row houses combined, similar to The Tabard Inn in DC. I was on the top floor in a small room but with toilet across the way and shower down the stairs. Full English breakfast, for those that want that much. Impeccably kept place. I will return!
And off to the the Ancient World Conference at the University of London. This group was largely concerned with early digs in Egypt including facial analysis of ancient Egyptians and the like. It was hard for me keep alert though the audience was fascinated and the Q&A was spirited. I was interested in a talk about Nimrod for I had been so close and was totally awake for Michael Wood’s presentation: Alexander’s Greatest Battle. He was a terrific presenter with outstanding films of Syria and Iraq - and the Panshjer VAlley in Afghanistan. He had been filming there accompanied by the military and two armoured cars, a far cry from five civilians and a minibus.
Monday arrived and I now had three days to visit friends and check out theatre. Spent one day in Hampstead with a companion from this year’s earlier Iraq tour: a mid-seventish woman who bicycles all over: London, the UK, Africa, the world. The next day she and I met another Iraqi tour participant, an Ukrainian who may å be moving to Moscow, and had lunch while I spent the evening with a friend from my Mali trip - she is interested in the Salalah-Ubar-Rub Al Khali possibility. I’m recruiting for t hat, if I can get it together.
The final day, I had lunch with a young engineer, a survivor of Afghani chickhanas. And the evening was with a friend from my first Mid Eastern trip who is about as passionate about theatre and travel as I am. The plays seen were The Pitman Painters at the ‘Royal National (excellent); War Horse, also a Royal National production (outstanding total theatrical experience) and Judgment Day at The Almeida (dark Brechtian drama)
And United upgraded me to Economy-plus on the ride home. What more could a girl want?
Costs: Airfare from SFO to LHR: $831.60. Christ Church conference, including accommodation and meals: £1200. Ancient World conference, including meals: £155. Accommodation in London including breakfast: £250.
I knew the potent were positive: at the start, United Air upgraded me from economy to business class. And that’s it how it continued. The Heathrow-Oxford bus timing was perfect; the Christ Church college room was newly refurbished and ideal for me. I had stayed at St. John’s College last year when I attended to the TE Lawrence symposium. St. John’s was put to shame in comparison to the grandeur of Christ Church, particularly the magnificently high vaulted ceiling dining room used in Harry Potter films. One of my fellow attendees who had studied at Christ Church, commented he felt so unworthy - and I could understand that.
The conference was held in a small modern lecture hall with good sound. It was put together by the Middle East Centre at St. Anthony’s College, Oxford with experts from the UK, Australia, Egypt, America, and the Middle East. Starting with TE Lawrence, talks progressed through the mandates, the Arab-Israeli conflicts, Egypt’s role, Hamas and Hesbolla, security issues and Al Quaeda ending with missed opportunities for some kind of resolution. It seemed Israel was mostly responsible for dropping the ball - or refusing to catch it.
For the most part, wonderful, engaging speakers. With an equally bright and knowledgeable audience including PhDs, retired and active Navy personnel, government staff and politically interested souls like myself. There were about 120 attendees (including thirty Elder hostelers), primarily Brits and Americans with a few assorted Europeans.
A pre-conference day gave me a chance for a walking tour of Oxford, including visiting several other Oxford colleges and a boat trip to Iffley with its lovely little ancient church, St. Mary’s. Mid-conference, we packed up and went to Waddesdon Manor, the home of the Rothschilds who were active in supporting early Jewish settlements in Palestine. It was an absolutely fascinating place: the Manor is actually a museum. The grounds are extensive. All part of a bygone era of “Conspicuous Consumption” as Veblen termed it.
I ws so stimulated by the conference, both speakers and attendees, that I didn’t sleep much but kept rewinding the tapes in my head. One of the speakers I met during last year’s TE Lawrence Society symposium and I did have opportunities to talk with him. In fact, all the speakers made themselves available to the conference attendees for questions and discussions. And comfortably housed and fed, I did hate to leave.
But, moving onto the London: I had miscalculated in booking my hotel, so had no place to stay the first night. Ended up in a small hotel in Bloomsbury where I had stayed in years past. It had deteriorated into a backpackers place: bed but no breakfast. Cheap and relatively clean. The rest of the time I was at The Celtic Hotel at Russell Square: recently repainted with bright new facilities. A rabbit warren of rooms throughout - three row houses combined, similar to The Tabard Inn in DC. I was on the top floor in a small room but with toilet across the way and shower down the stairs. Full English breakfast, for those that want that much. Impeccably kept place. I will return!
And off to the the Ancient World Conference at the University of London. This group was largely concerned with early digs in Egypt including facial analysis of ancient Egyptians and the like. It was hard for me keep alert though the audience was fascinated and the Q&A was spirited. I was interested in a talk about Nimrod for I had been so close and was totally awake for Michael Wood’s presentation: Alexander’s Greatest Battle. He was a terrific presenter with outstanding films of Syria and Iraq - and the Panshjer VAlley in Afghanistan. He had been filming there accompanied by the military and two armoured cars, a far cry from five civilians and a minibus.
Monday arrived and I now had three days to visit friends and check out theatre. Spent one day in Hampstead with a companion from this year’s earlier Iraq tour: a mid-seventish woman who bicycles all over: London, the UK, Africa, the world. The next day she and I met another Iraqi tour participant, an Ukrainian who may å be moving to Moscow, and had lunch while I spent the evening with a friend from my Mali trip - she is interested in the Salalah-Ubar-Rub Al Khali possibility. I’m recruiting for t hat, if I can get it together.
The final day, I had lunch with a young engineer, a survivor of Afghani chickhanas. And the evening was with a friend from my first Mid Eastern trip who is about as passionate about theatre and travel as I am. The plays seen were The Pitman Painters at the ‘Royal National (excellent); War Horse, also a Royal National production (outstanding total theatrical experience) and Judgment Day at The Almeida (dark Brechtian drama)
And United upgraded me to Economy-plus on the ride home. What more could a girl want?
Costs: Airfare from SFO to LHR: $831.60. Christ Church conference, including accommodation and meals: £1200. Ancient World conference, including meals: £155. Accommodation in London including breakfast: £250.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Afghanistan 2: Three Weeks of August 2009
When I left Kabul in March 2008, there remained four more things I wanted to do there: come in through the Khyber Pass, spend time in the countryside, visit the Minaret of Djam and work for a month or two in Afghanistan. I achieved half of the goals this August: countryside and Djam. Plus, the excitement of being around during election time.
I traveled for three weeks: Kabul, Mazar-i-Sharif, Bamiyan, Herat and “the places in between.” The route started from Kabul, through the spectacular Salang Pass - the tunnels reminiscent of ones in Georgia, also built by the Russians - to Mazar; then back down to just short of the Pass where it was a back country road to Bamiyan, where once the huge Buddhist statues stood until the Taliban took them out in the name of Islam.
From there to Afghanistan’s newly established national park at the scenic Band-i-Amir lakes. Then across the mountainous Central route to Herat, with a stop at the Minaret of Djam, the magnificent remains of the an ancient civilization, hidden in a valley at the end of a nearly non existent road? trail? path? The route walked by Rory Stewart a few years back and now reportedly too dicey for Western travel. I don’t know if that’s because of Security concerns, bad roads and/or lack of acceptable accommodation. Or all of the above.
Rather than follow the Northern route from Herat to Mazar-i-Sharif and then back to Kabul as planned, the return was on a Herat-Kabul flight so more time could be spent in these two cities, both targets of the Taliban set on invalidating any elections. There were threats, bombings and shootings in both Herat and Kabul who were under close security just before and on election day.
I traveled with three others plus our tour leader who arranged the trip - same person who had set up the Iraqi tour. He was familiar with the territory, having traveled in the area since the hippy days of the seventies. Cross country travel was by mini bus - four cylinder, 4 wheel drive vehicles that took the terrain in stride - into, onto and over rocks, streams, river beds, cow/sheep trails and dirt roads with a bit off off-road driving. Other than in the cities and Bamiyan, we stayed in Chaikhanas (teahouses), all in one room with sleeping bags on the floor. Facilities, when available, were on a par with those in China’s old Hutongs. Otherwise, it was back of a wall. Several Chaikhanas did not welcome Westerners so we took pot luck.
The highlight for me was getting to the Minaret of Djam, Afghanistan's first World Heritage site. After taking photos, I just sat and reveled in the aura surrounding the place. Our two guys skinny dipped in the adjacent river, the rest simply walked about the area. The police stationed there to discourage visitors from stealing artifacts, fixed tea for us before we left.
I did appreciate the opportunities to talk with local Afghans. One time, while at a Sufi Shrine, we shared tea and cakes with a group of young people. Later, at another Sufi temple, the Imam, his brother and his nephew prepared tea for us. Most people seemed friendly, though in the villages, very curious about the strange foreigners, The police, most concerned about our wanderings, stopped and questioned us at various chec k points. We were briefly detained though offered tea, In Chisht, when we were quite close to the end of the journey to Herat. After a night in Obeh at the Hilton of Chaikhanas (indoor plumbing and water), a relay of armed guards then accompanied us to our Herat hotel.
The closer to the election, the tighter the Security. Initially, Kabul seemed to have less police and Army visible than when I was there earlier. But the divisive cement walls and barriers, a la Baghdad, were being installed. Whatever charm Kabul had - and it isn’t much at best - was lost in the translation. However, by the time we returned,to Kabul, a day before the election, Security was ever present. The airport was closed for several hours following a shoot out with the Tallies at a local bank. Several days later when I left, things were more normal. But walking around Kabul election day with everything shut down and little traffic other than police and Army, reminded me of Neville Shute’s “On the Beach”.
Remembered: Heat and Dust, though no Julie Christie. The striking tiles on the Mosque at Mazar-i-Sharif. The de miners and European Union representative at Shahr-e-Zohak citadel near Bamiyan. The dedicated South African with Wildlife Conservation working with local Afghans in developing the park at Band--i-Amir. The nomad camps lining the way into Djam. The Citadel at Herat where the guide, a guard with a Kalashnikov in his right hand and a cast on his left arm, took two of us into every nook and cranny of the in-process restoration. The drone taking off at Herat's airport. The cheerfully optimistic rug dealers who were sure one of us would buy that extra special rug - and sure enough, three guys succumbed. Kabul’s now totally blocked off and unviewable Bella Hassar. The crowded, noisy and colorful bazaars of Herat and Kabul. The freelancers at the no-star Mustafa Hotel vs the expense account set at the 5-star Serena Hotel. Istalif the pottery village developed by Turquoise Foundation, with few customers and closed shops. The Panjshir Valley with Massoud’s mausoleum becoming a building site as his admirers continue to “improve” it. The Shah M Bookstore where I bought George MacDonald Fraser’s Flashman Papers, covering the First Afghan War.
Accommodations: Ranged from Chaikhanas to basic Afghan hotels to the yurt in Bamiyan, with nary a Westerner in sight.
Water: I had purchased and packed a water purifier. Didn't need it for bottled water was readily available. Also Rani, a wonderful fruit drink from the Emirates.
Food: Nam and tea were standard breakfast with sometimes eggs and jam. Lots of Kabobs and rice. Two trips to the Serena found me happily chomping away at their luncheon buffet at $30 per person. In Herat, ate at two newer and nicer hotels, patronized by Westerners, for around $20 for the evening meal. A final night in Kabul took us to Sufi 2 on Moslem street: good Afghan food and great Afghan music; packed with Westerners.
Costs: Hinterland Travel charged £1980 for the tour which accounted for a 10% discount for early booking. Only breakfast was included. I also paid approximately $100 for add-on excursions. Airfare on Emirates, San Francisco-Dubai, was $1583.09 plus Kam Air Dubai-Kabul $430; (Despite some reports, Kam Air does not use aging Aeroflots but Lockheed and McDonnell-Douglas aircraft.)
N.B. Keep tuned for there is a good chance I’ll be returning to complete the other two parts of the pinochle, Khyber Pass and short term work in Kabul. For the moment, I’m off to the UK in September for a conference at Oxford and play time in London.
I traveled for three weeks: Kabul, Mazar-i-Sharif, Bamiyan, Herat and “the places in between.” The route started from Kabul, through the spectacular Salang Pass - the tunnels reminiscent of ones in Georgia, also built by the Russians - to Mazar; then back down to just short of the Pass where it was a back country road to Bamiyan, where once the huge Buddhist statues stood until the Taliban took them out in the name of Islam.
From there to Afghanistan’s newly established national park at the scenic Band-i-Amir lakes. Then across the mountainous Central route to Herat, with a stop at the Minaret of Djam, the magnificent remains of the an ancient civilization, hidden in a valley at the end of a nearly non existent road? trail? path? The route walked by Rory Stewart a few years back and now reportedly too dicey for Western travel. I don’t know if that’s because of Security concerns, bad roads and/or lack of acceptable accommodation. Or all of the above.
Rather than follow the Northern route from Herat to Mazar-i-Sharif and then back to Kabul as planned, the return was on a Herat-Kabul flight so more time could be spent in these two cities, both targets of the Taliban set on invalidating any elections. There were threats, bombings and shootings in both Herat and Kabul who were under close security just before and on election day.
I traveled with three others plus our tour leader who arranged the trip - same person who had set up the Iraqi tour. He was familiar with the territory, having traveled in the area since the hippy days of the seventies. Cross country travel was by mini bus - four cylinder, 4 wheel drive vehicles that took the terrain in stride - into, onto and over rocks, streams, river beds, cow/sheep trails and dirt roads with a bit off off-road driving. Other than in the cities and Bamiyan, we stayed in Chaikhanas (teahouses), all in one room with sleeping bags on the floor. Facilities, when available, were on a par with those in China’s old Hutongs. Otherwise, it was back of a wall. Several Chaikhanas did not welcome Westerners so we took pot luck.
The highlight for me was getting to the Minaret of Djam, Afghanistan's first World Heritage site. After taking photos, I just sat and reveled in the aura surrounding the place. Our two guys skinny dipped in the adjacent river, the rest simply walked about the area. The police stationed there to discourage visitors from stealing artifacts, fixed tea for us before we left.
I did appreciate the opportunities to talk with local Afghans. One time, while at a Sufi Shrine, we shared tea and cakes with a group of young people. Later, at another Sufi temple, the Imam, his brother and his nephew prepared tea for us. Most people seemed friendly, though in the villages, very curious about the strange foreigners, The police, most concerned about our wanderings, stopped and questioned us at various chec k points. We were briefly detained though offered tea, In Chisht, when we were quite close to the end of the journey to Herat. After a night in Obeh at the Hilton of Chaikhanas (indoor plumbing and water), a relay of armed guards then accompanied us to our Herat hotel.
The closer to the election, the tighter the Security. Initially, Kabul seemed to have less police and Army visible than when I was there earlier. But the divisive cement walls and barriers, a la Baghdad, were being installed. Whatever charm Kabul had - and it isn’t much at best - was lost in the translation. However, by the time we returned,to Kabul, a day before the election, Security was ever present. The airport was closed for several hours following a shoot out with the Tallies at a local bank. Several days later when I left, things were more normal. But walking around Kabul election day with everything shut down and little traffic other than police and Army, reminded me of Neville Shute’s “On the Beach”.
Remembered: Heat and Dust, though no Julie Christie. The striking tiles on the Mosque at Mazar-i-Sharif. The de miners and European Union representative at Shahr-e-Zohak citadel near Bamiyan. The dedicated South African with Wildlife Conservation working with local Afghans in developing the park at Band--i-Amir. The nomad camps lining the way into Djam. The Citadel at Herat where the guide, a guard with a Kalashnikov in his right hand and a cast on his left arm, took two of us into every nook and cranny of the in-process restoration. The drone taking off at Herat's airport. The cheerfully optimistic rug dealers who were sure one of us would buy that extra special rug - and sure enough, three guys succumbed. Kabul’s now totally blocked off and unviewable Bella Hassar. The crowded, noisy and colorful bazaars of Herat and Kabul. The freelancers at the no-star Mustafa Hotel vs the expense account set at the 5-star Serena Hotel. Istalif the pottery village developed by Turquoise Foundation, with few customers and closed shops. The Panjshir Valley with Massoud’s mausoleum becoming a building site as his admirers continue to “improve” it. The Shah M Bookstore where I bought George MacDonald Fraser’s Flashman Papers, covering the First Afghan War.
Accommodations: Ranged from Chaikhanas to basic Afghan hotels to the yurt in Bamiyan, with nary a Westerner in sight.
Water: I had purchased and packed a water purifier. Didn't need it for bottled water was readily available. Also Rani, a wonderful fruit drink from the Emirates.
Food: Nam and tea were standard breakfast with sometimes eggs and jam. Lots of Kabobs and rice. Two trips to the Serena found me happily chomping away at their luncheon buffet at $30 per person. In Herat, ate at two newer and nicer hotels, patronized by Westerners, for around $20 for the evening meal. A final night in Kabul took us to Sufi 2 on Moslem street: good Afghan food and great Afghan music; packed with Westerners.
Costs: Hinterland Travel charged £1980 for the tour which accounted for a 10% discount for early booking. Only breakfast was included. I also paid approximately $100 for add-on excursions. Airfare on Emirates, San Francisco-Dubai, was $1583.09 plus Kam Air Dubai-Kabul $430; (Despite some reports, Kam Air does not use aging Aeroflots but Lockheed and McDonnell-Douglas aircraft.)
N.B. Keep tuned for there is a good chance I’ll be returning to complete the other two parts of the pinochle, Khyber Pass and short term work in Kabul. For the moment, I’m off to the UK in September for a conference at Oxford and play time in London.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Wanted: Tourists for Iraq and Afghanistan!
You really can’t blame them for trying. Poor countries. The Dollar and the Pound and the Euro look good. Are good for their economy.
Both Iraqi and Afghan government tourist pooh-bahs is are encouraging travel in their countries, regardless of ongoing conflicts. Granted, eight of us got through Iraq in March 2009, the first Western travelers since 2003. And it’s gone to their heads - more tours are planned with both British and, believe it or not, Taiwanese tour operators.
Admittedly, the Iraqi’s State Ministry for Tourism and Antiquities have been encouraging travel into the country irrespective of bombings and blastings, but it’s been the Iranian Shias, who honor the sacred shrines in Karbala and Najaf. But there is a difference between managing the religious pilgrim and the Western tourist. Martyrdom is not part of our lexicon. Our expectation to to arrive, see some of the country and its people and then, survive - leaving in one piece.
And that did happen with us. But there was little help from the Ministry in providing opportunities to visit significant sites, ones not problematic security-wise: eg: despite several opportunities, our group was not allowed in the newly opened Museum in Baghdad. And we had to fight to get into Ur, located between two military bases.
Originally, we were to have two Security people,then a carload of guys, then nada! Nada was better for our mini van wasn’t that conspicuous - except when local authorities gave us front and back protection with sirens going full blast.
I must admit the Iraqi took every opportunity to publicize tour travel: media at Babylon, media in our bus, media at the Baghdad hotel: they loved idea of tourism but really didn’t know or want to know how to deal with the reality. The best reception our group had was at Basra with several local Tourist representatives who escorted us throughout that area. What the National Ministry coulda, shoulda and didn’t do.
Now Afghanistan: Several months after I’d returned from Kabul in March 2008, there was an article in the SF Chronicle, heralding the opening of a national park at the Band-i-Amir lakes in Bamiyan province. Apparently, the Aga Khan Foundation is creating an ecotourism project in the area. In June 2009, there was a formal dedication of the park, per CNN. This is in the province where the Buddhist statutes were blown up in Taliban days.
Reportedly, it’s a three hour drive on rocky roads in a 4x4 so getting that should be an adventure in itself.
And there is also word someone is building a five star hotel in Kabul!
I’ll find out for I’m returning in August - which will be hot. dry and dusty! While I’ll return to Kabul briefly, I will be traveling on the old caravan routes to Herat, Mazar-i-Sherif, the Minaret of Djam, as well as Bamiyan province. I suspect I’ll see little of the Ministry of Culture’s minions and the media, but given my Iraqi experience, that will be for the best. Wandering around these fragmented countries, one needs to be as close to the ground as possible.
Surprisingly, there are five organizations booking travel in Afghanistan: two local, one Canadian and two British. All in the north; no one other than military should head down south. Kandahar and the Helmand province are way beyond dicey and no place for civilians. And the Afghan-Pakistan border is another hot spot. But north and central parts of the country have been relatively safe.
So I will have the opportunity to compare - and contrast - these two countries who want to be included on the world’s travel calendar.
(Other countries on my list to visit: North Korea, which which does not encourage visitors; Libya who is still mad at GW and won’t give US citizens visas, and Cuba, which welcomes tourists but it is the the US government which restricts access.. In fact, peaceful and stable Cuba is the only country where the US forbids US travel. Go figure!)
Both Iraqi and Afghan government tourist pooh-bahs is are encouraging travel in their countries, regardless of ongoing conflicts. Granted, eight of us got through Iraq in March 2009, the first Western travelers since 2003. And it’s gone to their heads - more tours are planned with both British and, believe it or not, Taiwanese tour operators.
Admittedly, the Iraqi’s State Ministry for Tourism and Antiquities have been encouraging travel into the country irrespective of bombings and blastings, but it’s been the Iranian Shias, who honor the sacred shrines in Karbala and Najaf. But there is a difference between managing the religious pilgrim and the Western tourist. Martyrdom is not part of our lexicon. Our expectation to to arrive, see some of the country and its people and then, survive - leaving in one piece.
And that did happen with us. But there was little help from the Ministry in providing opportunities to visit significant sites, ones not problematic security-wise: eg: despite several opportunities, our group was not allowed in the newly opened Museum in Baghdad. And we had to fight to get into Ur, located between two military bases.
Originally, we were to have two Security people,then a carload of guys, then nada! Nada was better for our mini van wasn’t that conspicuous - except when local authorities gave us front and back protection with sirens going full blast.
I must admit the Iraqi took every opportunity to publicize tour travel: media at Babylon, media in our bus, media at the Baghdad hotel: they loved idea of tourism but really didn’t know or want to know how to deal with the reality. The best reception our group had was at Basra with several local Tourist representatives who escorted us throughout that area. What the National Ministry coulda, shoulda and didn’t do.
Now Afghanistan: Several months after I’d returned from Kabul in March 2008, there was an article in the SF Chronicle, heralding the opening of a national park at the Band-i-Amir lakes in Bamiyan province. Apparently, the Aga Khan Foundation is creating an ecotourism project in the area. In June 2009, there was a formal dedication of the park, per CNN. This is in the province where the Buddhist statutes were blown up in Taliban days.
Reportedly, it’s a three hour drive on rocky roads in a 4x4 so getting that should be an adventure in itself.
And there is also word someone is building a five star hotel in Kabul!
I’ll find out for I’m returning in August - which will be hot. dry and dusty! While I’ll return to Kabul briefly, I will be traveling on the old caravan routes to Herat, Mazar-i-Sherif, the Minaret of Djam, as well as Bamiyan province. I suspect I’ll see little of the Ministry of Culture’s minions and the media, but given my Iraqi experience, that will be for the best. Wandering around these fragmented countries, one needs to be as close to the ground as possible.
Surprisingly, there are five organizations booking travel in Afghanistan: two local, one Canadian and two British. All in the north; no one other than military should head down south. Kandahar and the Helmand province are way beyond dicey and no place for civilians. And the Afghan-Pakistan border is another hot spot. But north and central parts of the country have been relatively safe.
So I will have the opportunity to compare - and contrast - these two countries who want to be included on the world’s travel calendar.
(Other countries on my list to visit: North Korea, which which does not encourage visitors; Libya who is still mad at GW and won’t give US citizens visas, and Cuba, which welcomes tourists but it is the the US government which restricts access.. In fact, peaceful and stable Cuba is the only country where the US forbids US travel. Go figure!)
Friday, June 19, 2009
The June Journey: 2009
The yearly Oregon-Washington Trip
It’s been a lazy spring-summer so far, with my only traveling occurring earlier this month: the yearly trip to the Ashland, Oregon, Shakespeare Festival - done that since the mid-l950s - and then, onto Washington where I visited my husband’s family - done that since he died five years ago.
Should start with Ashland, a pretty town with well kept old time frame homes built during the 1800s and a park, Lithia Park, that is one of the most superb patches of greenery I’ve seen wherever. I stay downtown at the Columbia Hotel, upstairs above the various retail shops, a place with a Victorian motif throughout. Some rooms have facilities but I stay in the back with toilet and shower down the hall. You just try to avoid the sunny side for one will sizzle and fry on a hot day, despite window and ceiling fans. Even in the high season, it’s reasonablly priced.
I fly in to Medford and take the shuttle into Ashland. In past years, I have driven up but it is a long, tiring journey. I did take the bus one year when the bus still stopped on the outskirts of Ashland and I may try the train next year: Bay area to Sacramento or Grants Pass with a shuttle from there. Anyway, Ashland and the plays were fine; the only problem was finding a workable computer. The library PCs didn’t like AOL (or vice versa) and the coffee shop’s IMac also was a bit taken back by AOL. So the cell phone got some use.
There was an ongoing crisis - isn’t there always with families? My sister-in-law’s oldest daughter was seriously ill, in and out of the hospital, so there was some question whether I should go on to Washington. Turned out I did and it worked out, particularly as I left a day early (which cost but was worth it!). Concurrently, my nephew, who I had hoped to see, was down in Southern California, cleaning out his recently deceased mother’s place. So what had seemed like a good plan in April was a bit of a disaster, come June.
The plays were good: Henry VIII and All's Well were in the outdoor theatre where, even with three layers, I had a hard time staying toasty. It always is warm during the day and cold at night. Both plays were well performed. Music Man was the musical and I had a hard time erasing Robert Preston from my mind as I saw this very professional production. Nice choreography! Dead Man’s Cell Phone was sold out when I ordered tickets in “April and was still sold out when I went to the Box office on arrival. So I sat out front until someone came up with a spare to sell - and at face price. The play was a commentary on cell phones and relationships: a bit crazy but enjoyable.
The two I liked best were Equivocation, woven around Shakespeare and the Gunpowder Plot, and Servant of Two Masters, an outrageous Italian commedia dell’arte piece. Both were well directed and very sharply performed. If I hadn’t gotten into the Cell Phone, I was going to try for River Rafting - ah, next year!
I enjoyed the Washington visit with my sister-in-law and her family but three days was enough for all of us, especially since I wasn’t going to have a day with my nephew. Got to Pike’s Market in Seattle which I always enjoy. My sister-in-law’s youngest daughter, with whom I am very close, is a professional editor. I had a screen script with me I had been asked to critique so we spent sometime with that.
I stay at a Days Inn in Kent, walking distance to family, which gives them and me some independence. It was a day with each of various family members, all enjoyable. And the Days Inn has a shuttle to the airport so there is no inconvenience to anyone. Just hope all our various crises are down to a dull roar next year.
Since my return, I was googling to get information regarding the author of the screen play (he’s on Facebook) and ended up googling my name: I found that a gracious writer, Julia Ross, named me as one of Twelve Inspirational Women Travelers on WorldHum.com. I’m keeping company with Martha Gellhorn, Julia Childs and Gertrude Bell among others. And I was really impressed that she liked my writing! Thank you Julia! (And thank you, Warren Price, my old J School Prof, wherever you are!)
It’s been a lazy spring-summer so far, with my only traveling occurring earlier this month: the yearly trip to the Ashland, Oregon, Shakespeare Festival - done that since the mid-l950s - and then, onto Washington where I visited my husband’s family - done that since he died five years ago.
Should start with Ashland, a pretty town with well kept old time frame homes built during the 1800s and a park, Lithia Park, that is one of the most superb patches of greenery I’ve seen wherever. I stay downtown at the Columbia Hotel, upstairs above the various retail shops, a place with a Victorian motif throughout. Some rooms have facilities but I stay in the back with toilet and shower down the hall. You just try to avoid the sunny side for one will sizzle and fry on a hot day, despite window and ceiling fans. Even in the high season, it’s reasonablly priced.
I fly in to Medford and take the shuttle into Ashland. In past years, I have driven up but it is a long, tiring journey. I did take the bus one year when the bus still stopped on the outskirts of Ashland and I may try the train next year: Bay area to Sacramento or Grants Pass with a shuttle from there. Anyway, Ashland and the plays were fine; the only problem was finding a workable computer. The library PCs didn’t like AOL (or vice versa) and the coffee shop’s IMac also was a bit taken back by AOL. So the cell phone got some use.
There was an ongoing crisis - isn’t there always with families? My sister-in-law’s oldest daughter was seriously ill, in and out of the hospital, so there was some question whether I should go on to Washington. Turned out I did and it worked out, particularly as I left a day early (which cost but was worth it!). Concurrently, my nephew, who I had hoped to see, was down in Southern California, cleaning out his recently deceased mother’s place. So what had seemed like a good plan in April was a bit of a disaster, come June.
The plays were good: Henry VIII and All's Well were in the outdoor theatre where, even with three layers, I had a hard time staying toasty. It always is warm during the day and cold at night. Both plays were well performed. Music Man was the musical and I had a hard time erasing Robert Preston from my mind as I saw this very professional production. Nice choreography! Dead Man’s Cell Phone was sold out when I ordered tickets in “April and was still sold out when I went to the Box office on arrival. So I sat out front until someone came up with a spare to sell - and at face price. The play was a commentary on cell phones and relationships: a bit crazy but enjoyable.
The two I liked best were Equivocation, woven around Shakespeare and the Gunpowder Plot, and Servant of Two Masters, an outrageous Italian commedia dell’arte piece. Both were well directed and very sharply performed. If I hadn’t gotten into the Cell Phone, I was going to try for River Rafting - ah, next year!
I enjoyed the Washington visit with my sister-in-law and her family but three days was enough for all of us, especially since I wasn’t going to have a day with my nephew. Got to Pike’s Market in Seattle which I always enjoy. My sister-in-law’s youngest daughter, with whom I am very close, is a professional editor. I had a screen script with me I had been asked to critique so we spent sometime with that.
I stay at a Days Inn in Kent, walking distance to family, which gives them and me some independence. It was a day with each of various family members, all enjoyable. And the Days Inn has a shuttle to the airport so there is no inconvenience to anyone. Just hope all our various crises are down to a dull roar next year.
Since my return, I was googling to get information regarding the author of the screen play (he’s on Facebook) and ended up googling my name: I found that a gracious writer, Julia Ross, named me as one of Twelve Inspirational Women Travelers on WorldHum.com. I’m keeping company with Martha Gellhorn, Julia Childs and Gertrude Bell among others. And I was really impressed that she liked my writing! Thank you Julia! (And thank you, Warren Price, my old J School Prof, wherever you are!)
Monday, June 1, 2009
April-August 2009: At Home
For over two months, I’ve been at home. Not traveling, little writing. Reading. Some worthwhile things like working on Robert Fisk’s tome on the Middle East and Dalrymple’s work on the Indian Mughals and some fun stuff, like Jack Higgens’ and Gordon Kent’s adventure writings. Recently, I discovered Dan Fesperson, a worthy equal to John LeCarré and Frederick Forsyth. It was one of his books that was out on the local library’s display table that I casually picked up and checked out.
Most interesting, he writes very human stories that are, incidentally spy/adventure tales, with locales familiar to me: Sarajevo, Berlin, Peshawar, Amman. Amman less so for basically, I’ve been in town only for flights in and out. But I have been in Jordan several times - going back in November for another shot at the GARP archaeological dig along the Hejaz. But his descriptions of Amman provide an excellent guide. And with luck and a second passport, I’ll have time in Amman enroute to Israel and Palestine in December. (Second passport is necessary for any indication of an Israeli visa/entry stamp precludes admittance to Mid Eastern/Muslim countries, excepting Egypt and Jordan).
Anyway, I have become hooked on his novels and have several more recent ones to track down. Like several good writers, he’s a journalist. Journalists - and I was a wanna be - tend to be very observant of details of both the physical and the personal. They use language respectfully as it is the tool of their trade. So these skills serve them well when they move onto to fiction, particularly if it is a combination of reportage and imagination, as in Fesperson’s books.
In my early days, I was a J school student who also enrolled in Short Story classes. I could report but didn’t have the imagination to make it as a fiction writer. As it turned out, for over thirty years, I wrote reports for Courts’ use in sentencing criminal offenders. Often, I tried to find a word or phrase out of the ordinary that might catch someone’s attention; I never knew if I succeeded as there wasn’t a response.
But unlike most of my coworkers,who viewed report writing on the same level as having a root canal, the writing for me was the fun part of the job. Interviewing, yes, but then trying to put a thumb nail sketch of the offender and the crime on paper, particularly within the confines of an imposed outline was a challenge.
And then I got to tag around after him/her, assuming they were not incarcerated, for several years and fine out how right or wrong I was in my assessment It was fun while it lasted, And I have missed the writing, which is one of the reasons for the blog. The other is, to keep track of myself.
For two years ago I was in the Swat Valley, today part of the turf battle between the Pakis and the Taliban. I remember it as beautiful, peaceful place. I looked up my notes: there was a bad road (oh, I remember that, one of the worst!), I ate at Charsadda and stayed overnight at the Rock Resort Hotel. I walked among Buddhist ruins and was impressed by a lovely carved Stupa. I fear all that’s left is the bad road. I see news shots of the area, the distruction in Mingora, the refugees!. A sadness! Man’s worst enemy is man, someone said, and at the rate we’re going, we are going to knock ourselves off before another century.
Come August, I’m back to Afghanistan, this time in the countryside. Up north to Mazur-e-Sharif, over to Herat and Banyan and then through the central part and the Minaret of Djam. Maybe, coming in through the Khyber Pass, depending on safety issues. There are three alternate itineraries. I’m excited about returning to the Land of the Great Game and the unbelievable Himalayans. They are at one end of my spectrum with the desert at the other. People who have conquered either are high on my list of heroes: Ran Fiennes (who also has the two Poles under his belt in addition to Everest) and Michael Asher (ex-Para, SAS and author who has lived in the deserts of Africa). In fact, in October, I will spend my birthday on a camel trek led by Asher - a real high point for me despite a probable sore butt.
In the meantime, I mark time at home: setting up future travels, doing household stuff, taking ballet and doing Pilates, tutoring a foreign speaker and reading. The four months I’ve been home this spring/summer is the longest I’ve been around in five years - the cat appreciates it. Though I am fudging a bit by taking off a week this month for the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon and then, several days with family in the Seattle area.
The late summer and fall will have me on the run, between Asia and Africa and the Middle East, with ten days in the UK stuffed in there some place. At one point, I think I’m home little over a week in between trips. But this is the life I’ve chosen, once I left my day job: travel as much as you possibly can!
Most interesting, he writes very human stories that are, incidentally spy/adventure tales, with locales familiar to me: Sarajevo, Berlin, Peshawar, Amman. Amman less so for basically, I’ve been in town only for flights in and out. But I have been in Jordan several times - going back in November for another shot at the GARP archaeological dig along the Hejaz. But his descriptions of Amman provide an excellent guide. And with luck and a second passport, I’ll have time in Amman enroute to Israel and Palestine in December. (Second passport is necessary for any indication of an Israeli visa/entry stamp precludes admittance to Mid Eastern/Muslim countries, excepting Egypt and Jordan).
Anyway, I have become hooked on his novels and have several more recent ones to track down. Like several good writers, he’s a journalist. Journalists - and I was a wanna be - tend to be very observant of details of both the physical and the personal. They use language respectfully as it is the tool of their trade. So these skills serve them well when they move onto to fiction, particularly if it is a combination of reportage and imagination, as in Fesperson’s books.
In my early days, I was a J school student who also enrolled in Short Story classes. I could report but didn’t have the imagination to make it as a fiction writer. As it turned out, for over thirty years, I wrote reports for Courts’ use in sentencing criminal offenders. Often, I tried to find a word or phrase out of the ordinary that might catch someone’s attention; I never knew if I succeeded as there wasn’t a response.
But unlike most of my coworkers,who viewed report writing on the same level as having a root canal, the writing for me was the fun part of the job. Interviewing, yes, but then trying to put a thumb nail sketch of the offender and the crime on paper, particularly within the confines of an imposed outline was a challenge.
And then I got to tag around after him/her, assuming they were not incarcerated, for several years and fine out how right or wrong I was in my assessment It was fun while it lasted, And I have missed the writing, which is one of the reasons for the blog. The other is, to keep track of myself.
For two years ago I was in the Swat Valley, today part of the turf battle between the Pakis and the Taliban. I remember it as beautiful, peaceful place. I looked up my notes: there was a bad road (oh, I remember that, one of the worst!), I ate at Charsadda and stayed overnight at the Rock Resort Hotel. I walked among Buddhist ruins and was impressed by a lovely carved Stupa. I fear all that’s left is the bad road. I see news shots of the area, the distruction in Mingora, the refugees!. A sadness! Man’s worst enemy is man, someone said, and at the rate we’re going, we are going to knock ourselves off before another century.
Come August, I’m back to Afghanistan, this time in the countryside. Up north to Mazur-e-Sharif, over to Herat and Banyan and then through the central part and the Minaret of Djam. Maybe, coming in through the Khyber Pass, depending on safety issues. There are three alternate itineraries. I’m excited about returning to the Land of the Great Game and the unbelievable Himalayans. They are at one end of my spectrum with the desert at the other. People who have conquered either are high on my list of heroes: Ran Fiennes (who also has the two Poles under his belt in addition to Everest) and Michael Asher (ex-Para, SAS and author who has lived in the deserts of Africa). In fact, in October, I will spend my birthday on a camel trek led by Asher - a real high point for me despite a probable sore butt.
In the meantime, I mark time at home: setting up future travels, doing household stuff, taking ballet and doing Pilates, tutoring a foreign speaker and reading. The four months I’ve been home this spring/summer is the longest I’ve been around in five years - the cat appreciates it. Though I am fudging a bit by taking off a week this month for the Shakespeare Festival in Ashland, Oregon and then, several days with family in the Seattle area.
The late summer and fall will have me on the run, between Asia and Africa and the Middle East, with ten days in the UK stuffed in there some place. At one point, I think I’m home little over a week in between trips. But this is the life I’ve chosen, once I left my day job: travel as much as you possibly can!
Friday, March 27, 2009
First Iraqi Tour since 2003!
Iraq March 2009
Eight of us were on the Iraqi tour: five Brits (one of whom was a Russian with three passports), a Canadian and two Americans. Ages: 36 to 79. All had traveled extensively, Only one had not been to Afghanistan. For over two weeks of March 2009, we traveled from Kurdish Iraq to the Marsh area.
The trip was organized by Geoff Hann who operates Hinterland Travels and who was the leader of the band. Three of the group had traveled with him before. This was the first authorized civilian traveling group since 2003. The scheduling was unpredictable as the present Ministry of Tourism had little experience in managing more than the Iranian pilgrimages to Kerbala.
For example: we were to have two security guards. Then it was none or Twenty. We chose none, which I felt was safer than even two traveling with us. There was a small bus, driver and interpreter (who saw himself as in charge despite the fact he had never been to most of the places). Occasionally, we picked up police cars, front and back, at times with sirens roaring and lights flashing but most of the time, we were left alone.
And I do mean left: left sitting at checkpoints while police and militias decided what to do with us. Not safe for us. Sometimes, they would drive us to the next check point, heave a sign of relief and a wave as they returned to their post and left the problem with the next bunch. Sometimes, they just let us go.
Forty checkpoints between Basra and Baghdad. Unknown number of speed bumps. No one travels fast in Iraq.
Baghdad: We stayed on three occasions at the old Sheraton, outside the Green Zone but inside security walls; across from where Saddam’s statue was toppled. It was comfortable but not well maintained. There were variety of security people with green, gray, blue, and tan based camouflage uniforms but, all with Kalisnikovs, the weapon of choice in the Middle East.
Ugandans, male and female, handled the Green Zone checkpoints, all four of them. Two pieces of picture identification required. Thorough search - I know, I worked in a prison at one time in my life.
Traffic ranged from tanks to donkey carts. There were concrete walls lining the main thorough fares and concrete blocks necessitating a zigzag approach to enter most streets. A besieged city still, for car bombs and shooting still occur.
We did get to the Kahidmain mosque but never did make it to the nearly opened Museum - which wasn’t open during any of the stays in Baghdad. I was told by the press there wasn’t that much in it; some of them had also gotten a run-around. We did visit an Anglican Church. During the last stay in Baghdad, we returned to the Green Zone and saw the Crossed Swords and then finished up with the Arc of Ctesiphan, an awesome structure in an area guarded by the Sons of Iraq, ex AlQaeda lads.
The North: While there was a fair amount of security around and we were refused admission to Nimrod, things seemed calmer in the Kurdish controlled area. Enroute to Erbil, police escorted us to magnificent Minaret and Mosque (in process of repair) at Samarra. Impressive even though the Minaret was in a Railway yard with barbed wire rolled in front of it.
We drove past Kirkuk, reportedly a bit dicey and not the place for our driver to get lost - but he did. He couldn’t read the Kurdish road signs so he had to ask the locals. Signs are Kurdish/English - no Arabic! Got to Erbil ok with half a pizza for supper. The next day it was The Citadel and textile museum and Mar Benham, a Syrian Orthodox church just out of Mosul.
Then the long drive back to Baghdad and onto Babylon, where Iraqi officialdom and the Iraqi press discovered us. As I didn’t trust their claim not to run anything until we’d left the country, I had nothing to do with them - and they did run material within a couple of days! For security reasons, I didn’t want to be on anyone’s TV until I was well out of the way.
The South: Babylon was extraordinary. The lion and the tower of Babel; Saddam’s old palace which had been stripped of anything valuable. Then to Kerbala with a police escort, leaving us at the town’s border. I felt like I was entering another country for on came the scarves and hejabs. This was the city beloved of Shias, with the Shrine of Abbas and Hussein, martyred grandsons of the Prophet. Our Canadian found a fellow Canadian, here on pilgrimage. There were throngs of Iranian pilgrims wandering about, paying their respects.
Then to the AlTar caves and the desert fortress of Ukhaidher. We were driving around in a sand storm with a 20% visibility on road with long lines of trucks hauling potash. There was a stop at Khifal, an old Jewish Shrine of Ezekiel where I managed to bash my head coming out of the toilet. We ended up at Najaf, the holy city with the tomb of Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law and fourth Inman.
Then, traveling from one check point to another, we arrived at Nippur, an extensive site and major religious center. We were escorted by the local guards who liked having photos with us and gave us tea at the end of the tour though having only enough glasses for several people at a time.
Moving on, we landed unexpectedly at Samawa in the crummiest hotel of the trip - which is saying some - and where our Russian-Brit got arrested but was returned to the hotel, after trying to sight see around town. Not much to see from my point of view! But in the morning, we were at the site at Uruk where the ziggurat over looks what had been palaces, temples and walls. To Nasiriyah and another basic hotel.
From there to the US Army base where we made arrangements to enter Ur, another archaeological wonder, one I was most interested in as Leonard Wooley, one of TE Lawrence’s coworkers at Carchemish, was the lead archaeologist. It got complicated as someone didn’t get the word our group was to be admitted, which led to a morning wait in the bull pen. However, two female Army Specialists went way out of their way to get us in, feeding and watering us during our wait. And we did get in, supervised by an apologetic captain in the Chaplain corps; we were allowed to photograph so long as cameras weren’t aimed toward the nearby Air Force installation. Amazingly, the site seems in good condition.
From there to the Marsh Arab country where water is returning into the marshes (Saddam drained it off to move the residents out) and where the old timers are slowly moving back.
Basra: Much security but less of the divisive cement walls. Unlike Baghdad, people were out on the river bank, promenading at night: men smoking hookahs, kids running around and families out for a stroll. While there was evidence of the two invasions, one war and the sanctions, it seemed less depressing than Baghdad.
There were four Ministry of Tourism guides with us, two women and two men. The women were clear that no headscarves were needed and all were most hospitable. I suspect we were the tour of the year!
We went to Qurnah, the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates and where nearby is Adam’s Tree, where supposedly was the Garden of Eden, Another Ali mosque, memorials to Indian and Gurka soldiers and a boat ride on the Shatt Al Arab, where trash and fish met along with upended boats and ships left from various conflicts.
However, one of the most memorable experiences was getting stamps for postcards at the Basra post office. In front of the building were at least 100 people, mostly men,waiting with an equal number inside. It took the Army to get us inside and up the stairs where postal employees went to find the person who sold stamps. This was all complicated by the interpreter's misunderstanding that we wanted souvenir stamps. Help came from a young woman who spoke quite good English, whose brother was a graduate of Portland State University, Oregon, where he now lived and worked. Apparently, people were waiting at the Post Office for remittances; the Army was there to provide for their security.
Back to Baghdad with a stop at the Tomb of Ezekiel (assuming he’s not buried in Israel) and a brief photo op for me at Kut, historically interesting as the place the Brits surrendered to the Turks during the First World War. Upon arrival at the Baghdad ex-Sheraton, we were set upon by press and television: good publicity for Geoff who will be leading future tours into Iraq and fascinating for me, an ex-journalism student, having my fifteen minutes of Andy Warhol fame.
Security on the Baghdad Airport road is tight. For a time, this was the most dangerous road around. Getting there, you take your vehicle to a large parking area where you switch into an approved auto. Dogs check b oth vehicle and luggage. Then to the airport where again, dogs check luggage before you put them into the airport x-ray machines. No chances are taken and the road is secured with cement barriers and walls.
With a late start and all the security checks, we missed the flight to Damascus. The Ministry representative, a Mr. Ali (I had a fantastic guide in Sikkem, also named Mr. Ali) chased around and got us on later Sham Air flight, so we got to Damascus in time to check in a very comfortable hotel I’d recommend to anyone, the Alfami near the old train station, used by Explore and Imaginative Traveler. Several of us wandered off to the souk and then to dinner.
Later, we went around to the old Railway Station, where a French group were having a reception, with juices, wine and petit-fours. We were invited to crash the party. It was an elegent ending to the several week excursion.
The next morning was the flight to Heathrow, where I spent the night in Terminal 1, being too cheap to get a hotel room. Caught up on Emails.. Security moved all the overnighters - about twelve of us - to Gate 36. where they came with cocoa and coffee at 4 AM. I met an very interesting Irish woman, an editor from Cairo, who had been married to an American. We chatted and had breakfast before her flight.
United flight was about one-third full so I could stretch out in Economy Plus. So not too bad a flight back.
Impressions: On the whole I think the Iraqi Ministry of Tourism likes the idea of tour groups but really isn’t prepared to deal with them. They had poster and cards prepared, but were at times, less than helpful when it came to implementing the itinerary.
I did have much more freedom in getting about than I expected. In the morning in Basra, I was able to get out and pick up breakfast: bread at the bakery, and cheese and yogurt at the corner store. Utilities were more reliable than expected - electricity went off occasionally for a short time. Bottled water was always available: Iraqis drank it as much as we did. Towels, toilet paper and soap were not always provided at hotels which often featured creative plumbing and strange electrical writing.
Food was plentiful: Usual Middle Eastern breakfast: bread, cheese, yogurt and the occasional egg. Main meals included soup, a selection of starters and then either chicken or lamb with rice. I shared with one of the other women throughout and had more than enough. I discovered Rani which was a nice fruit drink, much, much better than Fanta, CocaCola’s contribution to Middle Eastern soft drinks.
Despite security glitches, I never felt frightened. I was cautious and aware throughout but not scared. I should also mention that my experience with our Armed Forces was excellent: these people went out of their way, both at Ur and in Baghdad, to help us get where ever we wanted. That’s my team, good guys/gals all. I feel better about paying my taxes this month.
The people we ran into were friendly though I didn’t have much opportunity to talk with local Iraqis. Kids, as always, were great and I had them hi-fiving from Baghdad to Basra. We had shy smiles from the women, friendly smiles from the younger men and looks of curiosity from the older people. The security people always gave us a wave when we finally passed through.
I did talk with several contract workers: two with NBC News (Pilgrim Security and ex-SAS) and several at the Damascus Airport. They seemed to be stable, right-on guys; several were ex-cops working with the police.
Overall, a good trip but one I would recommend with qualifications: one should be more of a traveler than a tourist. Be prepared to rough it; have a sense of humor and don’t expect an itinerary to be anything but an expression of intent. Everything is subject to change. And take responsibility for your own security.
Cost: including airfare, about $6000, give or take, for the trip. Add on another $720 for the cat’s care. But for me, this was a window of opportunity I couldn’t resist. So well worth it!
Eight of us were on the Iraqi tour: five Brits (one of whom was a Russian with three passports), a Canadian and two Americans. Ages: 36 to 79. All had traveled extensively, Only one had not been to Afghanistan. For over two weeks of March 2009, we traveled from Kurdish Iraq to the Marsh area.
The trip was organized by Geoff Hann who operates Hinterland Travels and who was the leader of the band. Three of the group had traveled with him before. This was the first authorized civilian traveling group since 2003. The scheduling was unpredictable as the present Ministry of Tourism had little experience in managing more than the Iranian pilgrimages to Kerbala.
For example: we were to have two security guards. Then it was none or Twenty. We chose none, which I felt was safer than even two traveling with us. There was a small bus, driver and interpreter (who saw himself as in charge despite the fact he had never been to most of the places). Occasionally, we picked up police cars, front and back, at times with sirens roaring and lights flashing but most of the time, we were left alone.
And I do mean left: left sitting at checkpoints while police and militias decided what to do with us. Not safe for us. Sometimes, they would drive us to the next check point, heave a sign of relief and a wave as they returned to their post and left the problem with the next bunch. Sometimes, they just let us go.
Forty checkpoints between Basra and Baghdad. Unknown number of speed bumps. No one travels fast in Iraq.
Baghdad: We stayed on three occasions at the old Sheraton, outside the Green Zone but inside security walls; across from where Saddam’s statue was toppled. It was comfortable but not well maintained. There were variety of security people with green, gray, blue, and tan based camouflage uniforms but, all with Kalisnikovs, the weapon of choice in the Middle East.
Ugandans, male and female, handled the Green Zone checkpoints, all four of them. Two pieces of picture identification required. Thorough search - I know, I worked in a prison at one time in my life.
Traffic ranged from tanks to donkey carts. There were concrete walls lining the main thorough fares and concrete blocks necessitating a zigzag approach to enter most streets. A besieged city still, for car bombs and shooting still occur.
We did get to the Kahidmain mosque but never did make it to the nearly opened Museum - which wasn’t open during any of the stays in Baghdad. I was told by the press there wasn’t that much in it; some of them had also gotten a run-around. We did visit an Anglican Church. During the last stay in Baghdad, we returned to the Green Zone and saw the Crossed Swords and then finished up with the Arc of Ctesiphan, an awesome structure in an area guarded by the Sons of Iraq, ex AlQaeda lads.
The North: While there was a fair amount of security around and we were refused admission to Nimrod, things seemed calmer in the Kurdish controlled area. Enroute to Erbil, police escorted us to magnificent Minaret and Mosque (in process of repair) at Samarra. Impressive even though the Minaret was in a Railway yard with barbed wire rolled in front of it.
We drove past Kirkuk, reportedly a bit dicey and not the place for our driver to get lost - but he did. He couldn’t read the Kurdish road signs so he had to ask the locals. Signs are Kurdish/English - no Arabic! Got to Erbil ok with half a pizza for supper. The next day it was The Citadel and textile museum and Mar Benham, a Syrian Orthodox church just out of Mosul.
Then the long drive back to Baghdad and onto Babylon, where Iraqi officialdom and the Iraqi press discovered us. As I didn’t trust their claim not to run anything until we’d left the country, I had nothing to do with them - and they did run material within a couple of days! For security reasons, I didn’t want to be on anyone’s TV until I was well out of the way.
The South: Babylon was extraordinary. The lion and the tower of Babel; Saddam’s old palace which had been stripped of anything valuable. Then to Kerbala with a police escort, leaving us at the town’s border. I felt like I was entering another country for on came the scarves and hejabs. This was the city beloved of Shias, with the Shrine of Abbas and Hussein, martyred grandsons of the Prophet. Our Canadian found a fellow Canadian, here on pilgrimage. There were throngs of Iranian pilgrims wandering about, paying their respects.
Then to the AlTar caves and the desert fortress of Ukhaidher. We were driving around in a sand storm with a 20% visibility on road with long lines of trucks hauling potash. There was a stop at Khifal, an old Jewish Shrine of Ezekiel where I managed to bash my head coming out of the toilet. We ended up at Najaf, the holy city with the tomb of Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law and fourth Inman.
Then, traveling from one check point to another, we arrived at Nippur, an extensive site and major religious center. We were escorted by the local guards who liked having photos with us and gave us tea at the end of the tour though having only enough glasses for several people at a time.
Moving on, we landed unexpectedly at Samawa in the crummiest hotel of the trip - which is saying some - and where our Russian-Brit got arrested but was returned to the hotel, after trying to sight see around town. Not much to see from my point of view! But in the morning, we were at the site at Uruk where the ziggurat over looks what had been palaces, temples and walls. To Nasiriyah and another basic hotel.
From there to the US Army base where we made arrangements to enter Ur, another archaeological wonder, one I was most interested in as Leonard Wooley, one of TE Lawrence’s coworkers at Carchemish, was the lead archaeologist. It got complicated as someone didn’t get the word our group was to be admitted, which led to a morning wait in the bull pen. However, two female Army Specialists went way out of their way to get us in, feeding and watering us during our wait. And we did get in, supervised by an apologetic captain in the Chaplain corps; we were allowed to photograph so long as cameras weren’t aimed toward the nearby Air Force installation. Amazingly, the site seems in good condition.
From there to the Marsh Arab country where water is returning into the marshes (Saddam drained it off to move the residents out) and where the old timers are slowly moving back.
Basra: Much security but less of the divisive cement walls. Unlike Baghdad, people were out on the river bank, promenading at night: men smoking hookahs, kids running around and families out for a stroll. While there was evidence of the two invasions, one war and the sanctions, it seemed less depressing than Baghdad.
There were four Ministry of Tourism guides with us, two women and two men. The women were clear that no headscarves were needed and all were most hospitable. I suspect we were the tour of the year!
We went to Qurnah, the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates and where nearby is Adam’s Tree, where supposedly was the Garden of Eden, Another Ali mosque, memorials to Indian and Gurka soldiers and a boat ride on the Shatt Al Arab, where trash and fish met along with upended boats and ships left from various conflicts.
However, one of the most memorable experiences was getting stamps for postcards at the Basra post office. In front of the building were at least 100 people, mostly men,waiting with an equal number inside. It took the Army to get us inside and up the stairs where postal employees went to find the person who sold stamps. This was all complicated by the interpreter's misunderstanding that we wanted souvenir stamps. Help came from a young woman who spoke quite good English, whose brother was a graduate of Portland State University, Oregon, where he now lived and worked. Apparently, people were waiting at the Post Office for remittances; the Army was there to provide for their security.
Back to Baghdad with a stop at the Tomb of Ezekiel (assuming he’s not buried in Israel) and a brief photo op for me at Kut, historically interesting as the place the Brits surrendered to the Turks during the First World War. Upon arrival at the Baghdad ex-Sheraton, we were set upon by press and television: good publicity for Geoff who will be leading future tours into Iraq and fascinating for me, an ex-journalism student, having my fifteen minutes of Andy Warhol fame.
Security on the Baghdad Airport road is tight. For a time, this was the most dangerous road around. Getting there, you take your vehicle to a large parking area where you switch into an approved auto. Dogs check b oth vehicle and luggage. Then to the airport where again, dogs check luggage before you put them into the airport x-ray machines. No chances are taken and the road is secured with cement barriers and walls.
With a late start and all the security checks, we missed the flight to Damascus. The Ministry representative, a Mr. Ali (I had a fantastic guide in Sikkem, also named Mr. Ali) chased around and got us on later Sham Air flight, so we got to Damascus in time to check in a very comfortable hotel I’d recommend to anyone, the Alfami near the old train station, used by Explore and Imaginative Traveler. Several of us wandered off to the souk and then to dinner.
Later, we went around to the old Railway Station, where a French group were having a reception, with juices, wine and petit-fours. We were invited to crash the party. It was an elegent ending to the several week excursion.
The next morning was the flight to Heathrow, where I spent the night in Terminal 1, being too cheap to get a hotel room. Caught up on Emails.. Security moved all the overnighters - about twelve of us - to Gate 36. where they came with cocoa and coffee at 4 AM. I met an very interesting Irish woman, an editor from Cairo, who had been married to an American. We chatted and had breakfast before her flight.
United flight was about one-third full so I could stretch out in Economy Plus. So not too bad a flight back.
Impressions: On the whole I think the Iraqi Ministry of Tourism likes the idea of tour groups but really isn’t prepared to deal with them. They had poster and cards prepared, but were at times, less than helpful when it came to implementing the itinerary.
I did have much more freedom in getting about than I expected. In the morning in Basra, I was able to get out and pick up breakfast: bread at the bakery, and cheese and yogurt at the corner store. Utilities were more reliable than expected - electricity went off occasionally for a short time. Bottled water was always available: Iraqis drank it as much as we did. Towels, toilet paper and soap were not always provided at hotels which often featured creative plumbing and strange electrical writing.
Food was plentiful: Usual Middle Eastern breakfast: bread, cheese, yogurt and the occasional egg. Main meals included soup, a selection of starters and then either chicken or lamb with rice. I shared with one of the other women throughout and had more than enough. I discovered Rani which was a nice fruit drink, much, much better than Fanta, CocaCola’s contribution to Middle Eastern soft drinks.
Despite security glitches, I never felt frightened. I was cautious and aware throughout but not scared. I should also mention that my experience with our Armed Forces was excellent: these people went out of their way, both at Ur and in Baghdad, to help us get where ever we wanted. That’s my team, good guys/gals all. I feel better about paying my taxes this month.
The people we ran into were friendly though I didn’t have much opportunity to talk with local Iraqis. Kids, as always, were great and I had them hi-fiving from Baghdad to Basra. We had shy smiles from the women, friendly smiles from the younger men and looks of curiosity from the older people. The security people always gave us a wave when we finally passed through.
I did talk with several contract workers: two with NBC News (Pilgrim Security and ex-SAS) and several at the Damascus Airport. They seemed to be stable, right-on guys; several were ex-cops working with the police.
Overall, a good trip but one I would recommend with qualifications: one should be more of a traveler than a tourist. Be prepared to rough it; have a sense of humor and don’t expect an itinerary to be anything but an expression of intent. Everything is subject to change. And take responsibility for your own security.
Cost: including airfare, about $6000, give or take, for the trip. Add on another $720 for the cat’s care. But for me, this was a window of opportunity I couldn’t resist. So well worth it!
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