Middle East Archives - Wandering North

Asia Belarus/Dubai trip 2023 United Arab Emirates

Dubai Layover Part 2: Giving Dubai Another Try

I was flying back to Vancouver from Minsk and, due to the war in Ukraine and the sanctions that other countries had against Belarus, I couldn’t fly home through Europe, so my flight was taking me from Minsk to Dubai then to London and on to Vancouver. I was happy about this because it gave me an opportunity to visit Dubai, which I had never seen prior to this trip. On the way to Minsk, I had spent a shorter layover in Dubai and I had gotten out to see the city and I was largely underwhelmed. This time, I had a longer layover, and I was going to give it another shot.

I took the train from the airport into Dubai (again, super easy), but unlike last time I didn’t have to leave my bag at the airport because I had booked myself a hotel room. In truth, the layover wasn’t long enough that I was actually going to spend the night in Dubai; I was arriving early in the morning and I was leaving late at night, so it was really one long day layover, but I wanted to have a hotel room so that I could have a shower and a nap, if need be, before I went back to the airport. Fortunately, there are affordable accommodations in Dubai and the place that I stayed at, the Arabian Courtyard Hotel, was a great bargain and within walking distance to all the sites in the old Dubai historic centre. Also, it was nice; old, but atmospheric, and they upgraded my room (how could I say no?) and it was impressive.

Arabian Courtyard Hotel: My room and view

So, I started my trip there. I walked through the old Dubai historic area past some of the places that I had seen before; past the souq, which was just opening up, and along the river.

Old Dubai flowers

the Souq

I went to a café that was incredibly charming, right on the water, and had a wonderful healthy breakfast watching the boats go back and forth to the other side.

café along the river

And that’s what I did after breakfast: I hopped on one of the boats called abras and took it to the other side of the river it cost 1 Dirham (maybe 30c US) and see they seem to run constantly back and forth. It was all locals on the boat save for me. It seems to be the easiest and most practical way of getting across. On the other side there’s sort of a fancy souq and I wandered around there looking at the spices and textiles and whatnot.

crossing the river

river views

I did actually end up buying myself a black abaya with little black sparkles on it because it’s something that I had been wanting for future trips. I had a chat with the boy who was selling it (and I say boy because he said he was 16); he was a refugee from Afghanistan. A lovely kid and such a good salesman. I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to be a refugee, but also to be refugee as a child in a foreign country and working to support yourself. Heartbreaking. (Of course, maybe it was all just a scam so that I would buy from him. I guess I’ll never know. And it really doesn’t matter because there are lots of kids who are in that situation.)

Getting beyond the souq, there’s an area full of local shops and apartments and mosques. It feels nothing like the modern part of Dubai with its shiny skyscrapers; it’s just regular buildings, regular streets, regular cafés, and regular people going about their business. It wasn’t beautiful, but I liked it so much more than shiny new Dubai.

It also it’s very multicultural. Walking around, there are stores and restaurants from places all over Africa and the Middle East and Asia. Things like Ethiopian coffee shops and Yemeni restaurants and Indian stores.

I stopped and had a simple lunch of chana dahl and chai before I carried on walking. It was very hot outside, but beautiful.

I eventually made my way back down to the river and took the boat back across. I had some shisha and juice. From there, I decided it was time to give shiny new Dubai a second try.

I got back on the metro and took and took it to the Dubai Mall stop. The Dubai Mall had bested me on my first layover. I walked in, and I got irritated and confused, and I turned around and left. But this time, I would be successful. I walked down the stupid habitrail that goes on forever from the subway stop and into the Dubai Mall and, from there, I followed the signs to the “Dubai Foutain”. It was a nightmare; I don’t like malls and this was a big bloated mall with nothing terribly remarkable in its shops wise. “Hey, look! It’s all the stores that you hate in your country, but all collected under one roof!”

The only interesting thing was, yes, there was an aquarium and, no, I didn’t pay money to go into it, but I could I did walk by, and I saw sharks and manta rays and that was kind of cool. And the Dubai Waterfall with the multiple statues of men diving (or committing suicide?) is really quite attractive.

Finally, I made my way outside, walking past a Tim Horton’s (seriously) and some other disgusting fast food chains, I emerged from the Mall. I rubbed my eyes, and there it was, glimmering and tall, the Burj Khalifa.

The Burj Khalifa is (for now, and since 2009) the world’s tallest building. It is 829.8 m (2,722 feet) tall. You can pay money to go up into it and see the view from the observation deck and do various activities, but I decided I wasn’t interested in that; I just wanted to see it. And now I have, and you know what? It’s impressive. It’s tall and pointy like an ice pick and it glitters silver. It’s something to see, but maybe not something to behold for very long.

What was more of a spectacle was all of the people crowded around taking pictures. It was really busy. I got into a small altercation with some guy when I did not take him up on his offer to take my photo when I was trying to take a selfie. Seriously, if was nice of him to offer, but I said “No, thanks.” That should have been the end of it. And that was when I was called a “bitch” in Dubai. Ah, memories.

Crowds

And the whole area is, well, a little strange. It’s very impressive. All the buildings are new and fancy and there’s a lagoon and fountains and bridges and restaurants, and there’s this delicate sort of Arabian music playing subtly in the background. It feels like you’ve stepped into some sort of modern Arabian Disneyland. I felt the same way a little bit when I was in Doha. It also could have been in South Florida, like if South Florida had built some Arabian themed subdivision and mall, it would probably look like this.

*Shiny, New Dubai around the Dubai Fountains*

But it was nice enough, so I found myself a table on a restaurant patio on the water but just out of view of the Burj Khalifa (because honestly it’s nice but I don’t need to sit and stare at it) and I sat down to have lunch and shisha. It was lovely. The shisha and food were excellent, and I got to carry on and hear and see some the buzz of the neighborhood. The buzz intensified when the fountains started in the pool just in front of the Burj Khalifa. It’s one of those dancing fountain things where music plays and fountains go on and fan around in different ways. I’ve seen this in Vegas and in Shanghai and I don’t really understand the fascination.

It was a pleasant place to spend some time. When I was finished, I walked back through the Mall. I stopped at Sephora to replace my eyeliner that had been drying out (ok maybe malls aren’t all bad) and then I took the train back to my hotel.

I had a shower and a bit of a nap at which point it was dark and I walked around Old Dubai for a little bit, doing nothing in particular before I went back to the airport and caught my flight to London.

I enjoyed this layover much more than my first one in Dubai, although I have to say my impression is: Dubai is not really my thing. Old Dubai is fine, but it’s not as lovely or interesting as the old city centres and souqs that I’ve been to in other ‘Middle Eastern’ cities, and new Dubai just isn’t my thing at all; it’s too car-centric, too sterile…it’s just not for me. But I’m glad that I saw it. That’s the great thing about the long layover: you can have a taste of a place and decide whether or not you want to come back and see more. In this case, I’m satisfied.

I was onward to London where I would have another long layover in my favourite city before returning home to Vancouver.

Around the World 2022 Asia Saudi Arabia

Jeddah, Saudi Arabia

It was a trip to Bangladesh that led me to travel to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. I was going to fly through there anyway, but why not spend a couple of days? But Jeddah was already and recently on my radar. For many years I wrote off Saudi Arabia as a travel destination altogether. Too repressive of women and their government seemed too … problematic. But over the years I travelled to so many other countries with problematic human rights and social policies that why single out this one country as a no-go zone? And over time, Saudi Arabia did lift some of their laws. They allowed women some more freedoms and put in place a tourist visa program that actually welcomes tourists, so the time seemed right to visit.

Saudi Arabia is, of course, huge, but the only bits that appeal to me are the desert ruins and Jeddah. The desert ruins I would have to see on a tour (I don’t drive & there isn’t adequate public transportation) but a couple days in Jeddah seemed like a good way to see something of the country.

I had booked my flight to Jeddah where I would spend three nights and two full days. Not a lot of time, but as it turned out, just the right amount. (I have already posted about the flights and visas for this round the world trip on another post.)

I arrived in Saudi Arabia from Vancouver via stops in London and Cairo. While I waited to board my flight, I noticed all of the signage for Mecca. Jeddah is the closest airport to Mecca and my flight was full of people making their pilgrimage. Many were dressed in specific white robes that they are required to wear before passing a certain boundary around Mecca, called miqaat or miqat. On the flight there was an announcement 15 minutes before passing this boundary so the pilgrims could prepare themselves and recite certain prayers. I’ve never had that on a flight before. It felt a little weird sitting inches away from people engaging in a religious ritual while I watched some random horror movie on my seat back.

I landed in Jeddah and, having already secured my e-visa, I entered into the country without issue. I changed some Euros into Riyal at the airport and got a taxi. It was all quite easy.

I had booked myself into the Red Sea Palace Hotel. There are no hostels in Jeddah that I could find. There are a ton of very fancy (and expensive) hotels. I picked the Red Sea Palace Hotel because it was right by the old city, Al-Balad, which was the area I was interested in. Most of the fancy hotels are in a fancy area quite far away and that area did not appeal to me at all. My hotel was fine. Clean and comfortable and not too pricy, though still more than I prefer to spend. The location was perfect.

It was in an area that was older and had a lot of restaurants and a market and was basically across the street from Al-Balad, the historic centre.

*me in the morning, while I still looked presentable*

Al-Balad, a UNESCO site, is this lovely and intriguing area founded in the 7^th C but filled will beautiful buildings from about the 1600s. Many of them have been restored and many are currently under restoration. Others are still dilapidated. They are mostly a few stories tall and feature balconies with colorful wooden screens, designed to provide shade from the punishing sun and also protection to women from the gaze of people outside of their households.

It is a lovely place to explore and it very photogenic. I loved it, but was a bit disappointed by how quiet it was. There are some shops and cafes in Al-Balad, but most didn’t open until late in the day, and at all times it was just quiet. I understood from people I talked to that because it was August and so hot that people weren’t so inclined to hang out. Things got busier in the evening, but still, there were not a lot of people around. After all, Saudi Arabia is not a poor country where you would be more likely to find people crowding outdoor cafes in the evenings to escape the heat. People have houses and AC and seem to prefer to frequent the fancier restaurants and malls in the newer areas. That said, I did find some places to enjoy a tea and a bit to eat and there were some people out playing backgammon and visiting, but it was far from lively.

In Al-Balad, apparently, there are some small house museums one can visit, but they seemed to be open only to people on tours, were difficult to find, and when I did find them they were just closed. I did find one art gallery in an old, large house. It was free, contained some lackluster paintings and I was the only person there.

The areas just around Al-Balad were more energetic. There were shops and markets. People hard at work selling textiles and spices, butchering meat, or making hookahs.

*Shops and streets around the historic centre*

My first day was spent exploring these areas. I finished the day having Indonesian food and Wong Solo, a popular restaurant near my hotel. That atmosphere was lacking but the food was excellent.

The next day I decided to see a bit of the sea and what lay beyond the historic centre. I caught a taxi and had it drive me quite a ways up the corniche and drop me off. I decided to walk back. As you head north everything is quite modern. Big malls, hotels, restaurants, and commercial centres. None of it appealed to me. Plus, it is very car-centric. Long distances between things, big busy streets, and not a lot of charm.

I decided to walk back along the corniche, along the sea. The sea is lovely of course, but it was hot. And humid. I walked for miles, with little to stop and enjoy apart from a pretty white mosque. I took refuge in a Starbucks – a place I would usually avoid, but it was just so hot. I needed refuge and there was not much else around.

The heat was increased by what I was wearing. Saudi Arabia does not require that women wear abayas, but you need to be covered at least to the elbows and knees. That said, I realized right away that wearing an abaya is the way to go. I found that if I didn’t wear one – even if I was fully covered, I was not treated as well as when I was wearing an abaya and headscarf. So I wore leggings, a long-sleeved, light shirt, a long black abaya and a headscarf. I looked ok, but I was sweltering. I guess that is part of the reason why I saw so few people walking.

*Me in the lobby of my hotel dressed to go out. Headscarf in my bag.*

I felt like an outsider. Aside from a few conversations conversations, I didn’t find the people to be super welcoming and felt like I was at arm’s length from really experiencing the culture. I think visiting places outside of the major cities would be a different experience. I should say that the were people who I did engage with were very nice. One two occasions, people just came up to me on the street and gave me bottles of water. The man who was making hookahs in his shop invited me to watch and take photos. The coffee kiosk in a small square was busy with construction workers who went out of their way to make sure I got what I needed and had a shady spot to sit. Most people did not speak English, but their gestures and efforts told me they were kind and hospitable.

While I didn’t love my walk down the corniche, I did like Jeddah, but specifically the area in and around Al-Balad.

I had an excellent meal at Foul Fattah, a popular local restaurant on the edge of Al-Balad that served up delicious breakfasts of foul and hummus and fresh flat bread with spicy pickled peppers, and had some of the friendliest people I met in Jeddah.

I spent both of my evenings enjoying cigars and cool beverages in amongst the buildings of Al-Balad.

I had worried that two days might not be enough. They were. I had a good time and while there was more I could have done, I was happy with what I saw and glad I went. That said, I didn’t love it. It was interesting and Al-Balad was beautiful, but the vibe or soul of it wasn’t for me. In some ways I feel bad saying that, but in other ways, it is kind of a welcome change to not always be gushing about how ‘amazing’ my travel destinations are. This is, after all, just an account of my experiences.

I would go back to Saudi Arabia, but only if I were going to see some of its amazing-looking desert vistas and historical ruins outside of the cities. It would be interesting to visit some small towns and engage with people more. I’m not at the stage where I am re-visiting many places, but maybe someday.

I left Jeddah at an ungodly hour on a flight to my next destination, one I was eagerly anticipating: Dhaka, Bangladesh.

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 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.)

Asia Jordan

King’s Highway: Amman to Petra

I needed to get from Amman to Petra. I had hoped to take the inexpensive and comfortable Jett Bus, but both the website and my hostel said it was not running that day; the schedules had been cut back due to dwindling tourists in these covid times. I could have taken a minivan, but I didn’t relish being crammed into an airless van for about four hours, so I googled private car to Petra and found a place (one of many, really) that would take to Petra in comfort and along the slightly longer but more scenic King’s Highway. It was a good choice.

The faster way to Petra is along the Desert Highway, which is about 3 hours by car or 4 hours by bus but isn’t much to look at. The King’s Highway, with stops, is 6ish hours. The views and stops aren’t breathtaking, but they are good and worthwhile and certainly better than the Desert Highway.

My driver, Ali, (found through localtrips.net), was great and knew all the right places to stop for me to take in the views as the city melted away into olive orchards and then eventually the landscape became a lot of…nothing. Just rocky, barren vistas; beautiful in their own way.

On the way, we drove through some small cities and stopped at the castles of Kerak and Shobak, which I could wander at my leisure.

Kerak is a crusader castle dating back to the 1100s and is certainly worth a visit, if not to explore the ruins, then to enjoy the views. Other than the guards at the gate, I had the place to myself.

We stopped and had falafel at a hole in the wall restaurant nearby in the surrounding small town, before heading farther south and stopping at Shobak Castle.

Shobak is another similarly dated Crusader castle, but in much poorer condition. It’s really not much to see, but it does have great views of the landscape.

I met a couple from Spain up there and we chatted about what travel was like during the pandemic. Other than them, the site was empty.

Near Shokak is the ‘world’s smallest hotel’, which is a VW beetle parked by the roadside. I couldn’t get a good picture of it, but it looked cute as we zipped by. This picture I took from the castle, so the car is just a speck. (Officially there is a proper hotel in Germany that holds the title of smallest, but the beetle is clearly smaller, albeit an alternative lodging.)

world smallest (VW) hotel, by the shrubbery in the middle

Finally, we arrived in the city of Petra (technically, Wadi Musa). An impossibly hilly place that made walking a serious challenge but created incredible views. Even the cars had difficulty stopping on some of the streets due to the incline.

I checked into my lodging, the Infinity Lodge. It was wonderful. My room was so fancy and had all the amenities, including my own balcony overlooking the city and mountains, behind which Petra was located. And they had lovely outdoor areas for meals, which they prepared and all of which were wonderful.

I walked gingerly from the residential area where the guesthouse was to the town. It’s not far, but the descent was so steep I had to take little baby steps to avoid slipping.

There is not much in the town. Souvenir stands with names link ‘Indiana Jones’, hotels, and restaurants. A lot of things were closed. Normally, Petra sees up to 10,000 tourists a day during high season and about 6,000 per day in the low season. Right now, I was told, they are getting 150-300 per day. So the scene in Wadi Rum was…quiet.

I walked and settled in to the patio of a restaurant for a cigar and a meal, watching the few tourists way away from Petra, exhausted. I talked with a doctor from the Czech Republic who was travelling solo and had just finished his day in Petra. (I ended up running him to him 2 more times in Wadi Rum.)

I finished the day with a cigar and an elaborate dinner at the lodge, watching the city light up and listening to the call to prayer. Wonderful. I stayed up way too late, given that the next morning I planned to be at Petra at 6:00 am.

Asia Jordan

Amman Arrival

Why Jordan / Why Now

When Canada dropped the covid quarantine requirement for its returning, vaccinated travellers, I knew it was time to plan something. I had been to Ukraine a couple months prior and that went well so it was time go farther afield. The number one place I wanted to go was Jordan.

Jordan had been high on my list of places to go for many years. Decades, really. But somehow I never went. As I visited other big heritage sights (the pyramids in Egypt, Machu Picchu, Abu Simbel, Lalibela, etc) I sort of held on to Jordan, figuring I would go there one day and I liked having Petra in the future, as something to look forward to. Then the pandemic hit and travel was effectively taken away for a time and I thought that Jordan, and Petra in particular, would be the place I would go as soon as I was able. No more putting it off; ‘one day’ may never come. And so I went.

Covid Travel

I flew to Amman from Vancouver via Toronto and Doha, covid tests, vaccination forms, pre-approval paperwork all in hand. It is easy in this time of travel to get frustrated by the queues, the ever-changing restrictions, the paperwork. I could spend half my time I airports feeling frustrated by the rules and the other half of my time feeling irritated by the people who do not follow the rules, but instead I have adopted a mantra of “I’m just happy to be here.” Whenever I want to simmer about yet another hour long queue to show my paperwork yet again or about the person seated next to me on the plane who just refuses to wear their mask, I just remind myself that I am just happy to be traveling, hoops and all.

As of the writing of this, to enter Jordan without a quarantine or test at the border, you must be double vaccinated with an approved vaccine and have pre filled out a form through the https://www.visitjordan.gov.jo that gives you a QR card that you show before boarding and again on arrival. Officially, masks and gloves are required in all indoor, public places, but I didn’t see a single person wearing gloves and mask use was…inconsistent at best. But all of that may change at any minute.

Amman

I arrived in Amman at about 11pm and by 11:30 was pulling up to my hostel (the Cabin Hostel) in the heart of the city and was delighted to see that even at that late hour, the city was alive. Everything was open and the streets were busy. I don’t know why people would be shopping for suits and spices at close to midnight, but if it strikes your fancy, you can do it in Amman.

The Cabin Hostel, by the way, is perfect. You couldn’t ask for a better location, surrounded by inviting cafes and restaurants, on the edge of the souks, and a short walk from both the Citadel and the Roman Theatre. It has cozy dorms and serviceable private rooms, and a shady rooftop for breakfasts and general socializing. And it is cheap.

The next morning, I set off early with my sights set on the Citadel. The map showed that it was not far – and it isn’t – but the thing I quickly realized about Amman is that they don’t call it the city of seven hills for nothing. Indeed, that might be an understatement. It seemed that everywhere I went I was walking uphill. In some areas the hills were so steep that the sidewalks just became daunting staircases. All the better to work up an appetite for falafel. It was fine, if not leisurely, for walking. It was hot though. As a demonstration, this is me as I left my hostel that morning:

And this is my one hour later, red-faced and sweaty, though quite happy:

The Citadel is an historical site occupied since about 1800 BC and is most famous for being the site of the Temple of Hercules, of which several columns remain and, fantastically, has the remnants of a massive statue of Hercules. It’s just a part of a hand and an elbow but they are large and delicately carved. The original monument must have been amazing.

The Citadel also offers great views of the city.

From there I meandered my way down to the 2^nd century Roman theatre.

And then I wandered the streets, visiting the souks and a few mosques.

I saw the first of some excellent street art murals.

Exhausted from the heat and the walking I spotted an inviting balcony on a second level of a building and popped in for some fresh lemon mint juice and a matching lemon mint shisha, happy for the breeze and for a bit of distance from the hectic streets. The waiter did not speak English, but continually stopped by my table to mutter things to me. On my way out, just as I began descending the stairs to leave, he approached me and grabbed my hand, pulling me for a kiss. I gave him a sharp “No” and shoved him back against the wall. He accepted his defeat and simply said goodbye. In English. I thought, “Great, am I going to have to deal with this bullshit the whole trip?” Thankfully, I did not and that was the only bit of harassment I faced.

I walked (really, climbed) to Rainbow Street, which is a street full of eateries, shops, and galleries, for dinner. I wasn’t crazy about it. Everything seemed a little too expensive and not that appealing, but my opinion on that seems to be the minority.

I finished the day joining the masses wandering around the souq area near my hostel at night, enjoying the reprieve from the heat, until finally settling in on a quite alley for some fresh fruit juice and a cigar, watching the crowds and the on again-off again amorous advances of the many stray cats.

It was a packed day. I didn’t see everything of course, but it was a good start, and I would be back at the end of my trip, but the next day was a trip down the King’s Highway to Petra.

Asia Pakistan/Oman trip 2020 Qatar

A Day in Doha, Qatar

I flew from Lahore, Pakistan to Vancouver, Canada via Doha, Qatar. I had various options as to how long a layover I wanted in Doha, everything from a couple of hours to 24 hours. Obviously I went for the longer version. I had no prior interest in Doha, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity to see a bit. I am so glad I had the layover and I had good time, but 24 hours was sufficient to satisfy my curiosity.

You might not know Qatar; and fair enough. It is but a pinprick on the map. It is a tiny appendage on the Arabian peninsula between Bahrain and the UAE. It is like the uvula of the Persian Gulf. It has beaches and sweeping sand dunes. Traditional souqs and futuristic towers. I was only there for a day so I was sticking to Doha and specifically the area around the historic souq.

I landed early. Immigration was quick and orderly and I did not linger in the airport. I only had 24 hours. I taxied to my hotel. As I do customarily, I splurged on my final night of vacation and stayed in a posh hotel (the Al Najada by Tivoli). Fancy. My room was bigger than my apartment and had a lovely view. But the big draw of the hotel was that it is just across the street from Souq Wahif.

Doha is a city divided. It has a very modern area on one of the corniche and a historic and meticulously preserved souq area towards the other end. Away from the water are regular areas, neither historic nor futuristic, visible from the taxi window.

The souq is about 250 years old, but in recent years, after a fire and decline, it was restored. So it is old and new. The renovations undertaken preserved the original character and architecture.

After being in Lahore for a bit, it was a nice change. I enjoyed wandering around the market, browsing the wares, and drinking fresh juice, and smoking shisha.

The locals wear traditional attire, with the men wearing long white tunics and loose white headdresses (called a gutra) held in place with a black rope (called an agal). The women’s dress was less uniform, but seemed to be more often black and a little more covered up. This was in sharp contrast to the tourists, most of whom were on shore leave from their cruise ships and looked shockingly underdressed by comparison. Qatar advises tourists not to wear miniskirts, sleeveless tops, and short or tight clothing in public.

One thing that was, for me, unique to the area were the falcons. There is a tradition of falconry in Qatar. There is even a whole Falcon Souq just next to Souq Wahif. Doha is downright crazy for falcons. They have festivals of falconry, races, hunting, etc. Falcons are apparently also seen as status symbols. In and around the souq, men can be seen walking around displaying a formidable looking falcon on their arm. (Try as I might I could not get any worthwhile photos of that.) In the Falcon Souq there are shops selling falcons and related accoutrements – including tiny leather helmets. There is even a dedicated falcon hospital.

Also in and around the souqs are stables of camels and horses.

The souq is, at first, utterly charming. It is so pleasant and easy for exploring. Appealing cafes and restaurants, shops selling spices and colorful textiles, the bubbling and fruity smoke from hookahs.

But it also feels very sanitized. I don’t know if it is the newness or the cleanliness or the obvious catering to tourists, but it does feel a bit like you are in some Disney park “Arabia Land.”

So after a trip where I was sick and staying in a grotty hostel it was nice to be somewhere totally different, but I didn’t feel like I wanted more time.

I enjoyed a leisurely walk along the corniche, enjoying the views and the sea air.

I also enjoyed the endless pictures of the Emir. Qatar is a “semi constitutional monarchy”, having a Prime Minister and an Emir (though the Emir appoints the PM, so his power is the one that matters). The Emir is Tamim Bin Hamad and his face is everywhere. On buildings and flags, merchandise and paintings, even showing up as latte art.

There are some other landmarks and museums in Doha that I could have visited, but I was still sick and feeling tired, so I had a relaxing day of walking with stops for shisha or cigars.

In the welcome cool of the evening, I had dinner and shisha in the souq and walked around looking at the illuminated building.

It was a great layover and a relaxing way to end my trip.

When I left the next morning for Vancouver I had already booked trips abroad for first half of 2020 and was looking forward to seeing Denmark, Ukraine, Iraqi Kurdistan, and Sudan…but of course none of that happened and this was my only international trip in 2020. I am still sad about that.

Asia Oman Pakistan/Oman trip 2020

Muscat, Oman

I decided I wanted to go to Lahore, Pakistan, for no particular reason, but for reasons I will deal with in my post on Lahore. The flights from Vancouver to Lahore all required layovers in London, England and Muscat, Oman, so I thought this would be an excellent opportunity to see something of Oman. I booked a round-trip ticket from Vancouver to London, a one-way ticket to Muscat, a one-way ticket to Lahore, and a one-way ticket from Lahore to London. Not the cheapest way to do things, but I was able to maximize my sights in a nine day trip.

Oman was 100% off my radar until a few years ago when I started looking into it and since then I have been seeing more and more of its as a travel destination. It is on the tip of the Arabian peninsula, next to Yemen and sharing borders with Saudi Arabia and the UAE.

It is a rich country (oil), an Islamic monarchy, Arabic speaking nation (though many people in the tourist industries spoke English). It is known mostly for its beautiful deserts and the architecture of Muscat, which has resisted the urge to build space-age skyscrapers and has preserved its traditional styles.

I did need a visa for Oman, but it was an easy process. Online, not too expensive, and no onerous requirements. I was approved almost immediately and given a paper to show to immigration on arrival. Landing at the airport, there was a huge queue of people waiting to go through immigration. The estimate was about 2 hours. This did not work for me, as it was 7 am and I wanted to get to the Grand Mosque before to it closed to non-Muslims at 11am. Wonderfully, there was an express immigration line that was open to anyone who was willing to pay 8 Omani Rial (OMR). This is not cheap, but it was worth every penny in my opinion. Minutes later I was walking to the taxi rank.

Here is the thing that is not great about Muscat: The city and the things a tourist is going to want to see is quite spread out. There is no metro. There are buses, which are pretty cheap and quite good, but the routes are seldom direct, so they are not fast. This means that if you are short on time, taxis are necessary and they are not cheap. My taxi from the airport to my hotel in Muttrah was about $36 CDN.

Muscat has all of the comforts you could want and there are very posh neighbourhoods. There are gorgeous mosques everywhere. Whenever I was in a taxi, I ached to photograph the delicate, colorful mosques that zipped by the window. Many of them built by rich men looking for prestige and religious favour.

I was staying in Muttrah, which was a great choice. I stayed at the Nassem Hotel, which is old and uninspired, but it is in an incredible location and it is cheap (by Muscat standards). I think I paid $40CDN per night for a private room and bathroom. Breakfast extra. Muttrah is right along the water. My hotel was just across the street from the famed Corniche (the long, curved walkway along the water) a one-minute walk from the busy fish market and a few minutes from the Muttrah Souq (the traditional, though now slightly touristy bazaar).

I checked into my hotel and changed into some clothing I felt was suitable for Oman – a long skirt and a long sleeved, high-necked shirt. I will say that I saw a lot of tourists dressed a lot more revealingly, but they were made to rent clothes to cover up with before entering the Grand Mosque, though no one on the streets seemed scandalized. I think it is always best to be more respectful.

*women and men on the streets of Muscat*

As was explained to my by a taxi driver, by law, women and men must each wear long, loose garments. For men it is a long, plain gown called a dishdasha, with a short, dangling braid at the collar that they soak in perfume. Men generally wear embroidered hats shaped a bit like a fez, but without the tassel. Women wear a long dress over loose trousers and a headscarf. For work, men must wear white and women black.

There are a lot of unusual laws in Oman. For example, it is against the law to yell or express anger of any sort in public. You are not permitted to have a dirty car. Sex before marriage is outlawed. I imagine there are many more, judging by how clean and orderly the country seemed.

The first thing I did was hop back in a taxi and head to the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque. The Mosque is free, but the taxi was pricey. It was worth it though, as the Mosque is stunning. It is new, being built from 1994-2000 and is an achievement. A huge structure in gleaming white marble, with a labyrinth of courtyards, leading to prayer halls, domes, minarets, and gardens.

The chandelier in the main (men’s) prayer room is the largest in the world, weighing 8.5 tons. The carpet in that room was the largest in the world (it took over 4 years to weave by hand) but now is the 2^nd largest). It is all quite beautiful.

From there, I bused back to Muttrah.

I walked to the fish market and looked around.

I walked along the Corniche, taking pictures of the pretty buildings and people walking. In the distance, forts perched on the cliffs, looking out at the sea. In the harbor, two big cruise shipped were docked, their passengers out to see the city for the day.

I had a juice by the Souq before continuing to walk along the water, past yet more forts, fountains, and rocky cliffs to the area called Old Muscat.

In Old Muscat there is a big museum and other smaller sights, but I wanted to see the Al-Alam palace. You can’t go inside, but it is still a sight to behold, with its curved, colorful columns, flanked with beautiful gardens on the back and facing the sea at the front.

Things were a little subdued in Muscat, as the Sultan (Sultan Qaboos) had died the month before and the country was in an official 40 day mourning period. The Sultan was beloved. He was a leader of peace and he (unlike his father) shared the wealth of the country with the people, such that every person in Oman gets free land, free education, free healthcare. There is a high standard of living. So when the Sultan died, people were sad. During this period of official mourning the theatres and cinemas were dark, no music was allowed in public, including on the radio, and I believe the clubs (such as they are) were closed. None of this affected me too much, but I will say that everything seemed quiet; like a Sunday.

I wandered around Old Muscat, chatting with a few people, hearing about Oman and the Sultan mostly.

Finally, I caught a taxi back to Muttrah, where I looked around the Souq and had dinner. I had wanted to have some shisha, but there are, weirdly, no shisha places in Muttrah. No one was sure why, but they do not seem to be allowed in that area. They are in abundance elsewhere.

So I just walked around a bit more, loving the clusters of all-white, low buildings set against a rocky background. As it got dark, the lights along the Corniche were beautiful.

I had these plans of staying up later or going out for a cigar, but after dinner I went back to my room, flipped through the room service menu (camel burger!) and crashed early. It was just as well, as I had a full schedule the next day with a trip to the desert.

Tag: Middle East

Why Jordan / Why Now

Covid Travel

Amman