Kurdistan Archives - Wandering North

Asia Iraq Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022

A Tea House and a House of a Different Sort in Erbil

My third full day in Erbil bears no mention. I got a covid test at 7:30 am then returned to my hotel room and worked until 6:30pm. This was not planned but could not be avoided. I was especially thankful for the fact that that I had been upgraded to a big room and that I could smoke cigars in it. I killed a handful of the Romeo y Julietas I had bought at duty free. But that is not interesting. What is interesting is my fourth and final day in Erbil.

I had already seen most of the sights of Erbil, but I had a few more wanders and things planned for my final day.

I started with an early morning walk to the Jalil Khayat Mosque. One thing I had not done was seen inside any of the mosques in Erbil, and there are lots. Not getting a lot of tourists (or maybe because they don’t want tourists poking around) they don’t keep the mosques open outside of prayer time – and then at prayer time I was not allowed in. But I had seen pictures of the inside of the large and beautiful Jalil Khayat Mosque and had read that if you got there early you might be allowed in. So I walked there, which was pleasant. I arrived and the high gate around the mosque was locked. I saw a few men walking around inside of the gate and quite far from me, but was unable to persuade any of them, with my smiles and friendly waves, to let me inside. At least the outside was nice.

I wandered back to the citadel and the square and then into the bazaar to look for the Mam Khalil tea house, which everyone said was a ‘must visit’. Mam Khalil has died in recent years, but the tea house that he opened in the bazaar in 1963 lives on. It took some looking around the labyrinth of stalls and circular aisles, but it was worth the hunt (Even if en route a nice-looking man in a suit tried to use google translate to politely (?) ask me if I was interested in sex. I wasn’t. I was interested in tea.)

Mam Khalil’s teahouse is a charming den of curved roof nooks and tucked-away seats, with nearly every inch of the walls displaying framed pictures of family and friends, and visitors of all levels of notoriety. I had a couple cups of tea and smoked a bit while taking some sly pictures. (Pictures are clearly allowed but I still felt odd about it, as it was full of locals going about their day.)

Fueled by tea, I walked to the market, separate from the bazaar but nearby. This is where people are buying their food. Long rows of colorful fruits and vegetables, nuts, fish, and a display of meats, complete with severed animal heads on display. (My favourite, just because I love the gruesome nature of it.)

It was great for a wander. I was invited to sit with one man, who spoke no English, at his little stall selling bales of cigarette tobacco. He rolled me a cigarette and I felt obliged to accept (I don’t smoke cigarettes and never have. I am strictly cigars and, when in certain countries, shisha), but I didn’t want to be rude.

I finally found the money changers’ part of the market. It is something to see. A large aisle of men with piled of currency – foreign and Iraqi Dinars – trading. The neat thing is that there is zero security and the money is just sitting out in high piles. Sometimes a man will just wander off from his money table and leave it there unguarded. No one seems concerned. Plus a lot of the older notes still have the faces of fallen or ousted dictators. The thing is, they aren’t crazy about photos, which is why I don’t have any to share. It’s just as well. More fun to see it in person. I could post the gps co-ordinates to find it, but I’m not going to do that either. The search is half the fun of it.

I walked to Minara Park, which was not much to see, as it wasn’t quite spring, so it was fairly brown, but there is the Mudhafaria Minaret, built in the 1100s. Not all of it remains, but it is still tall and impressive.

Other parts of the park have some statues and hedge animals, but it just wasn’t the season for it and had a depressing feel. I bet it would be lovely in spring. Another reason to visit the park in better weather though is that there is this cool cable car lift that takes you from Minara Park to another park, passing over part of the city, but it was not running at this time of the year.

I went on a long aimless walk, which I enjoyed, but then it was late afternoon and I was ready for a rest. I took a taxi to La Casa Del Habano in the ‘Christian area’ of Erbil. La Casa Del Habano is the main Cuban cigar chain of stores and lounges selling cigars as authorized by the Cuban government. I was quite excited that there was one in Erbil…except there isn’t. I knew if from as soon as the taxi pulled up out front. It had the sign and the logo, but it was a little off. Poorly made. A slightly wrong shade of burgundy. Inside it was blatant. Selling alcohol and cheap goods. And the cigars were all counterfeit. Bad ones. (How I know this is 25 years of smoking and years working in cigar stores, writing for cigar publications etc.) It was not just the cigars that were knock offs; the whole store was. But I was there, so I took a shot and bought a cigar anyway. Sometimes a fake Cuban is still a decent cigar and sometimes it is banana leaves and floor sweepings. This was somewhere in between.

I sat on a sofa in the store, disappointedly puffing on a fake Partagas No. 2 when I started chatting to a local guy named Ali. We got to talking about various things. He told me about his family: his relationship with Islam, his wife, kids, and mistress. Somehow, he ended up telling me that in this neighbourhood there is a red-light district of sorts. I don’t know how this came up, but I was interested. He told me that in the Christian area there are brothels operating out of massage parlours, which sounded quite familiar. He said he doesn’t frequent the places for illicit purposes (uh huh), but that you can go there for shisha and tea as well. He invited me to join him. I know that sounds like a bad idea, but he seemed harmless and affable and there was no way I was going miss out on visiting an Iraqi brothel.

It was just on the next block, though he pointed out several others. The downstairs looked like a semi-legit massage place, but upstairs there was a bar (not sure if there was alcohol), a decorative swimming pool, and tables. At the tables were men smoking shisha and drinking tea. And there were women sitting and smoking shisha and then wandering around to meet the visitors. When a man met a woman he liked they disappeared for a time into one of the massage rooms, where the price was negotiated. It was all very similar to how these places work at home in Vancouver, including the price. (I won’t explain how I know that.) I talked with some of the women, most of whom spoke some English. On the day that I was there, most of them were from Lebanon, and I met one woman from Thailand. All pleasant and friendly and, thankfully, all of age.

I stayed there for about an hour, smoking shisha, watching the goings on and chatting with Ali and the women who worked there. It was a pleasant environment actually. I don’t know why I was surprised that there are ‘massage parlours’ in Iraqi Kurdistan, but I was and happy to see that, on the surface anyway, it seemed to be a place of legitimate business. (I know that you can never know what is going on behind the scenes, but that is true of workers in a variety of industries, especially for women and women from countries that are developing or in some form of strife.)

I want to be very clear that I am not recommending that people go hang out at a brothel in Erbil as part of their travel itinerary any more than I am recommending that one should visit a counterfeit La Casa Del Habano (I’m not). This is simply an account of what I did on a given day. I am also not making any declarations about whether these women have agency or are exploited or anything else. I have thoughts about it, but I’ll save that for a future blog: “Wandering North’s Feminist Think Pieces.”

I said goodbye to Ali and caught a taxi back to the centre where I had a cup of tea and yet more shisha at Matchko Tea House. I sat streetside and watched the nighttime goings on. A family sat next to me and insisted on sharing their cashews.

It was a great visit. There is certainly more to see in Iraqi Kurdistan, but four days and five nights was a long time for me and it was time to move on. To wander North, as it were, to Albania.

Asia Iraq Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022

Amazing day trip to Akre and Lalish

On my second full day in Iraqi Kurdistan, I left Erbil for the day with the help of a local guide and driver. I don’t like organized stuff and generally do not like group things, but here and there, a guide for a day (if the guide is good, and preferably if I am not with a group) elevates the whole trip. This was such a day.

I had wanted to visit the town of Akre and the religious site of Lalish. Erbil has tons of appealing day trips that are possible, but I narrowed it down to these places. Akre looked pretty and Lalish, fascinating. It is possible to visit these places from Erbil on your own with shared taxis, but it would be very difficult to visit both places in one day. So, I googled and found a guide: Haval Qaraman. I later found out that he is THE guide in the area, having done it the longest and with the best reputation. Most importantly he was tremendous company.

Haval picked me up in the morning and we started on the drive. The scenery was pleasant, if not beautiful. As we approached the mountains it became more lovely. We passed flocks of sheep and Syrian refugee camps, small shrines and rural areas.

The great thing was that Haval gave me all the information I wanted about Iraqi Kurdistan. He told me about the history, the economy, politics, and about the various wars and invasions and how that affected people like him who live there. He also told me his story about how he grew up in Northern Iraq and how he learned English and set up his tourism business in an area exactly not known for tourism. It is a really good and interesting story, but it is not mine to tell. Suffice it to say that I learned a lot from him and he answered all of my questions about life in Northern Iraq. And he was great company and had a sense of humour that meshed well with mine. Lots of laughs…and learning. Seriously, what else could I want? (No, he is not paying me to say these nice things.)

Akre

We visited the pretty town of Akre. It is nestled in the mountains north of Erbil and has great views over the valley. If you visit during the new year festival in March, it is the place to be, with people climbing the mountains with torches to celebrate.

The town was nice to visit. Small. No tourists that I saw. We walked around the main square and the market. We had tea with locals at a tea shop on the square.

I insisted on taking my picture with the “I [heart] Akre” sign, even though I hate those signs. I would love someone to tell me where they started. There was a time when I never saw them, and now it seems that I can’t visit a city without a tacky “I [heart] ____” sign. I’m shocked Vancouver doesn’t have one yet. That said….it was Valentine’s Day, so what better time to pose with one of these eyesores?

Also in Akre, we visited s shrine of a notable Sufi figure, Sheikh Abdul Aziz Gailani, the son of a founder of an order of Sufism. It was not in the Lonely Planet or the Bradt guides and I would never have found it on my own. Tucked away at the top of a dead-end street, is a building of no note. We left the car and I slipped into a tasteful black Abaya, walked shoeless through glittering gold doors and into a shimmering room of mirrors and colorful Arabic verses, with the casket in the middle. It was very pretty and came with a lesson on the basics of Sufism. Haval assured me it was ok to take photos.

*Sufi Shrine in Akre (that’s me with Haval top left)*

From Akre we journeyed West to Lalish.

Lalish

Lalish is a temple, not a town, and is the holiest site for the people of the Yazidi faith. Not familiar with Yadizism? Neither was I before this trip.

So the Yazidi people practice a religion that is very old, like pre-Zoroastrian old. And it is very specific to people from the region in and around Iraqi Kurdistan. There is some question about to what extent it is just a religion and to what extent it is just an ethnicity. (I am already questioning my use of ‘just.’) Anyway, it is a very niche and ancient religion. Sometimes it is described as an offshoot of Islam, which is totally wrong. It is its own thing and has been persecuted by people of many other faiths for being heathenistic. In short, the Yazidis are monotheistic, but believe that god is in everything, including fire, which has left to some referring to the Yazidis as fire or devil worshippers, which isn’t right either. But they do have some interesting beliefs, like that black snakes are sacred because they saved Noah’s ark from sinking because a black snake plugged a hole. And there is a whole thing about peacocks that is fascinating. Haval told me a lot about the faith and their rituals. It was all so interesting – in fact, I kept exclaiming it – but I don’t want to write all the details of what I learned because I don’t want to deprive someone else of the discovering of learning in the moment, as I did.

One thing I will say is that in the 2010s, the Yazidi people were the victims of a genocide at the hands of ISIS. The details are horrific, and the community is still grappling with the effects. It is certainly worth reading about. It is incredible that it is as awful as it is, and I was totally unaware. One of the greatest lessons history has taught me is that people are continuously awful to one another, and yet, we can also be kind; and the two truths will carry on.

Apparently there has been a Yazidi temple on the site for over 4000 years, though the buildings that are there are not that old. To enter the site you must remove your shoes. Not just to enter the temples, but the whole site. So, plan accordingly if you visit in winter. The site itself is a collection of shrines and holy places. No one really lives there, but there will always be a few key people on site. I was lucky enough to meet the woman who carries out all the baptisms and a holy man who carries out the exorcisms. (They don’t use that word, but it is the same idea, and they have a specific room/building where that takes place.) We met him and had tea with his wife. (No, they had not seen the classic horror film.)

*Me with various Yadizi people at Lalish. The man on my left is an important member of faith and the woman performs baptisms. Maybe that’s why they were allowed to wear shoes and I wasn’t.*

The tombs of the Yazidi are interesting, conical, stone structures that dot the landscape.

Inside one of the buildings, which reached far underground, was a series of also very unusual and interesting holy places. Stone jars of water or oil, bits of colored fabric knotted for wishes and good luck, a stone structure onto which a piece of colored fabric is thrown for good luck, and utter disrespect of you trod on a threshold. Unconnected to the religion, some of these dark, underground rooms had walls covered with ghostly handprints, which made me immediately think of the end of the Blair Witch. A reference understood by no one.

*Yadizi religious buildings. (And me with a symbolic black snake.)*

I loved the visit.

Back to Erbil and a Detour

On the drive back to Erbil, we stopped at a restaurant for a feast of vegetables, bread, soup, and rice (there was meat too, but I don’t partake). It was quite satisfying. Thankfully, I was allowed to eat in the main room with Haval and the other man, and not relegated to the ‘women and family room’. Women are forbidden or discouraged from eating in the main room of restaurants, and there is generally a room at the back, sectioned off for women and their families. The back rooms are fine, but they are often windowless and tucked away. Not appealing.

After lunch, we were on a straight shot for Erbil, but made a stop at a trailer parked on the side of the highway with a little tent out front. The trailer is a coffee house operated by a Syrian refugee. He spends 6 days a week living and selling coffee out of this trailer and one day a week he goes back to the refugee camp to be with his family. Haval told me he has been doing this for about 8 years while he waits to be able to return to Syria. I found that quite moving. What a lonely and frustrating existence, but what an incredible entrepreneurial spirit; to make the best out of a bad situation.

I had Kurdish coffee, which is not coffee at all, but something closer to chicory, but made from roasted terebinth fruits (similar to pistachios?). It was sprinkled with a little chocolate and was excellent.

I was dropped off back at my hotel just as it got dark. It was a thoroughly satisfying day. I felt like a learned so much and experienced and saw things that few do. And none of that would have been possible if I was on my own.

I did pop out that evening for a street falafel and a spin around the square, but then to bed. The next day I had hoped to visit Mosul, but that was not possible, which turned out to be for the best, as the next day was consumed with work. But my final day in Erbil was filled with more city exploration and experience.

Asia Iraq Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022

Citadel to Shisha: Exploring Erbil in Iraqi Kurdistan

I woke up early my second day in Erbil, in the Kurdistan region of Iraq. I had arrived the evening prior and, while I went out, I hadn’t seen much or seen anything in the light of day. But first, breakfast. I was pleased to see that the hotel buffet breakfast had returned during these pandemic times. Even better, it was a middle eastern buffet breakfast. There were tons of fruits, nuts, yogurt, local salty cheeses, lentil soup, foul, fluffy pita breads amongst other delights. Best of all, was the view from the breakfast room on the top floor of the Erbil View Hotel.

Sufficiently fuelled, I walked back to the Citadel in the centre of Erbil, where I had been the night before. In the daylight, my assessment was still that it is not a beautiful city; not even really a charming one, but there is a lot to like, not least of which is that it all seems entirely authentic. There is very little that seems geared towards tourists. I liked this about it.

The Citadel is a high mound in the middle of the city with various structures and buildings on it. Apparently it has been occupied as far back at 5,000 BCE. It is an impressive sight from the ground and walking up to the top gives you postcard perfect views of the square, but there isn’t much to see of the Citadel structures themselves. They are (and have been for several years) undergoing a UNESCO restoration and so for now, much of the site is off limits.

*View of the citadel behind a shisha café*

That said, there are still some interesting buildings to see and there is a Kurdish textile museum, which is one of the few museums in Erbil. It is small and interesting and the entrance fee is negligible. Plus, there is an unflattering and candid photo of Steven Segal pinned to the wall from when he visited.

I snapped a selfie against one of the hanging carpets and decided to don my sunglasses as my eyes were still a bit haggard looking from the long flight the day before, resulting in my own ridiculous photo.

*I take my Kurdish Textiles very seriously*

I walked around the square, which was full of local people sitting and strolling; vendors selling nuts and fruit, cigarettes and phone cards.

I walked to the Qaysari Bazaar, which is just at the foot of the citadel. Qaysari Is the Kurdish word for market, so it might be redundant to call it the Qaysari Bazaar (like saying chai tea), but I’m sticking with it because that what it was called on my map. The Qaysari Bazaar is a covered bazaar, just like a smaller version of the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul. It was established in the 13th century and was a delight to wander in. It has the usual, colourful stall selling fruits, sweets, tea, and clothing, but with some unusual twists. It also has a renowned tea shop, but I wouldn’t stumble onto that until day four.

Around the perimeter of the bazaar were money changers with blocks of foreign currency sitting in or on top of clear, plastic boxes. A lot of the Iraqi Dinars still had Saddam Hussein’s face on them, which was not surprising, but I still did a double take.

I stopped at a cute little coffee shop on the edge of the bazaar and ordered a Turkish coffee, which came served to me on a purple velvet cushion, covered with two gilded, metal domes, like Russian nesting dolls. It was so elaborate. It seemed like something made for tourists, for Instagram, but the other people in the shop were unenthusiastic local men smoking cigarettes and seemingly blasé about their pretty coffee service. I was delighted.

I walked around a lot more that day. A bit aimlessly, but then as I started to see all there was to see in the centre, I decided to walk to Dream City for a coffee and to visit a cigar shop.

Dream City is a new development a bit out of the city centre. It was a long walk, but it is walkable. I stopped for more Turkish coffee and a couple of baklava at Ashtar Sweets.

Dream City is gated and very much geared towards drivers. In most parts there were not even sidewalks. The homes were huge and garish (and, I found out later, very expensive, like $10M expensive); but they all really looked like nouveau riche “McMansions”.

If you want international food, or a sports bar, or a steakhouse, the area around Dream City is for you. They even have a “Central Perk” cafe that is themed after the TV show friends. Honestly, I hated the area and both the cigar shop and the book-themed café I went there to see had recently closed, but I was happy for the walk and it was interesting to see the newer, richer areas.

On the plus side, as I excited the Dream City gates and turned to walk back down a different street, I realized I was near another cigar shop: H&H Cigars. I was thrilled. It was a proper cigar shop and, despite it not having any Cubans, it had a great selection. I bought a My Father cigar and settled into one of the comfy leather wing backed chairs and smoked and read my book (Wuthering Heights – my second go at it and I still couldn’t get into it) until dark. It was heaven after all my walking.

I opted to take a taxi back, which was a bit of a hassle. There are beige taxis everywhere and they may or may not use meters. This one did, but the driver ‘got lost’ several times on his way back to the Citadel, which is literally the most famous and visible and easiest to find sites in the city. The fare was still very cheap but I was annoyed at being taken advantage of – not that I could express my irritation easily when I knew only about four words in Kurdish and he knew about the same in English.

I ate my dinner from the same street-side falafel cart as the previous night. The proprietor seemed to remember me, smiled, and refused to take any payment for my meal.

I stopped for some shisha at a hole-in-the-wall type of place where I attracted a bit of attention from the all male clientele, as they looked up from their backgammon, cards, dominos, and mahjong, but I contentedly puffed away, watching the smoke drift off into the night sky before walking back to my hotel.

I should say that each of the five nights I was in Erbil I stayed out reasonably late and was always by myself. It felt completely safe. Most of the streets were busy with people and even the ones that weren’t did not seem menacing. The whole city seemed completely safe. (Of course, as I am writing this it is about a month after the fact and missiles have landed in the city from Iran, so it is impossible to know what to expect I guess, but my experience was a great one and without worry.)

The next day I had a trip organized to Lalish and Akre.

Asia Iraq Iraqi Kurdistan/Albania trip 2022 Kurdistan

Arrival in Iraqi Kurdistan

I decided to go to Iraqi Kurdistan in Northern Iraq. As with so many of my trips, I didn’t really have a good reason; just an interest and a winnowing down of alternative destinations based on weather, or covid restrictions, or where I went last. So I booked myself a flight to Erbil (also spelled Irbil or called Hawler).

Let’s get this out of the way right off the top: Iraq / Kurdistan / Iraqi Kurdistan? What I am I talking about? Iraq, as we all know, is a country. A high profile one. The capital is Baghdad. It is famous for, amongst other things, Saddam Hussein and Aladdin. That’s straightforward. Where things get murky is the Northern bit, which is where I went. I’m not going o attempt to break down the history of the Kurds or Iraq or the Middle East generally, but suffice it to say that the northern part of the country of Iraq is under control of the Kurds, which is why it is often called Kurdistan. Though Kurdistan also broadly refers to lands in several countries, like Iran and Turkey, where many Kurdish people live.

*Map of Kuridstan – where the Kurdish people traditionally and predominantly live*

The northern, Kurdish part of Iraq has its own government, flag, laws, visa system, etc…but it isn’t technically its own country.(At least not in the narrow, UN-defined definition of country.)This is always a treacherous topic and places like Scotland, Palestine, Tibet, Taiwan, and Kurdistan are amongst those places where statehood is…a matter of some debate. I’m not going to go down that path. According to the map and the stamp in my passport, the currency in my wallet, and the address of my hotel, etc, I was in Iraq, but I know that merely calling it Iraq is not entirely accurate and is also disrespectful to the Kurdish people, who have fought for their independence, so I have been saying I was in Iraqi Kurdistan or Northern Iraq, depending on my audience and how comfortable they are with geography and history.

Erbil is the capital of Iraqi Kurdistan and one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. (You will see it on the map above near Mosul.) As far as human civilization, it dates back to about 5,000 BCE. Over the centuries it has been a part of a long list of empires from the Assyrians to the Ottomans. It is all very interesting, but this isn’t ‘Wandering Encyclopedia Britannica’, so for a proper history, you should probably read a book, but it is worth looking into, even if all you is read the history section of an Iraq travel book.

People speak Kurdish there, but may also speak Arabic. It is a Muslim part of the world. It is in a mountainous region and in fact the month before I arrived, they had snow. So this is not the rolling desert terrain you might be imaging. I was there in February. It was cool in the evening and pleasantly warm in the day. A lot of the trees were still waiting for their spring greenery and there was not a lot of flowers, but there was some evergreen plants and grasses around. It would probably be more pretty in the Summer, but also brutally hot. I thought it was perfect.

I learned a few words and phrases in Kurdish, which proved to be mostly helpful in impressing people with my efforts. Those that spoke English were happy to do so, and with those that did not, I relied on my excellent combination of charades and smiling.

I landed at the airport, flashed my PCR test and vaccination status (the former was required the latter was not, which was different from what was on the government website) and got a visa on arrival, which is available to people from many countries, including Canada. The visa required no paperwork, but does demand a fee of $70 or $75 US (it seems to fluctuate). No questions asked, I breezed through. I changed some money to Iraqi Dinars. And I was in Iraqi Kurdistan.

The sun was just setting as I took a taxi into the city. It wasn’t immediately impressive, but nor was it off-putting.

I was staying at the Erbil View Hotel. Not a bargain, but one of the better options available. Erbil does not have hostels. It does have some budget hotels in the centre, but you can’t book them online and even in walking around, none of them were immediately apparent. So I guess if you are really on a budget, the thing to do would be to book a first night at a pricier hotel and then look for a cheaper option. I stayed put. The reception staff (who were lovely) upgraded me to a suite that was easily twice the size of my apartment and very comfortable. And…smoking was allowed!

But I didn’t have time to lounge in my room. I set out for the centre. It was dark but I had figured out my walking route ahead of time. (Time studying maps ahead of time always pays off.) In about 10 minutes I was at the centre, in between the citadel and the bazaar, surrounded by tons of people enjoying the evening in the square.

Everything was bustling. Families and friends out, drinking tea, people walked around selling nuts and fruits and cotton candy and balloons. It had a festive air. Not what you think of when you imagine Iraq – even Iraqi Kurdistan – after dark.

I did sort of a loop around, dazzled by how bright and colorful everything seemed. (Admittedly I was probably delirious from that cocktail of jet lag and excitement.)

I was starving but realized pretty quickly that none of the restaurants had vegetarian food. One man said he could barbeque me some tomatoes, but I passed. Fortunately, the streets radiating out from the bazaar were lined with street food vendors. Most of it was meat, but there was also falafel. Joy! Perfectly fresh falafel made for throngs of hungry people who crowded around. It was served in soft, pointy pita-style bread and covered with pickled vegetables and spicy yellow sauce. And it was about 60 cents. Canadian.

Satiated, and not ready to return to my room, I walked to the most appealing place: a 2^nd floor patio decked out with Christmas lights and producing plumes of fruity smoke. Shisha and falafel, the perfect combination.

It was packed, but I found a seat and puffed away on a lemon mint shisha combo, while sipping on lemonade and snacking on pistachios and cashews. It was mostly young, local people. I didn’t see any other tourists (nor did I for the rest of the trip.) I was content. I had made it and it was off to a good start.

I walked a slightly different path back to my hotel and slept, excited for the next day when I could really explore. (There will be more photos on the next post. Most of the ones on this first night came out dark and blurry. What can I say? It was dark and I was excited.)

Tag: Kurdistan

Akre

Lalish

Back to Erbil and a Detour