Iraqi Kurdistan 2012
Highlights of my day by day journal of a whirlwind tour of Iraqi Kurdistan
This journal is also available ‑ with lot's more images & detail ‑ on the really interesting, if somewhat old‑school, idosyncratic Crazy Guy On a Bike collection of bike (and off‑bike) touring journals
Erbil/Hawler/Hewlêr
The plane was in darkness, landing lights had briefly come on before being turned off as we made a bumpy and rapid spiralling descent into Erbil after the 2.5ish hour flight from Istanbul. Erbil airport is newish and relatively compact,arrival formalities were simple ‑ a passport scan, a full face photo and then a fingerprint scan, preceded a 10 day entry 'permit' stamp ‑ but carried out at the glacial pace of such procedures in every airport in the world, and similarly, as seemingly always, baggage was slow in appearing and of course, mine was amongst the last to appear, well, that’s how it felt! Even tho it was now around 04:00, the airport seemed deserted, there were no people meeting family/friends, no taxi drivers touting for business or any of the usual things you expect to see on arrival. Tho I did see an ATM and soon found myself in possession of a veritable wad of Iraqi Dinars (the going rate was something over 1000 dinar to 1 $US ). Outside the arrivals there was a bus and a couple of small white SUVs. The bus departed. The SUVs departed. A group of a dozen or so remained, we were all foreigners,then the SUVs returned and then we found out that due to security considerations, non‑passengers were not permitted in the airport and so the usual meeters & greeters (and taxis) were all at the entrance to the airport about a km or so distant.
Once at the airport entrance, things quickly sorted themselves and around 05:00, after a 5 minute $25 taxi ride, I found myself checking in to a hotel ($70/nite). I crashed for a few hours, but sometime mid‑morning I decided on a stroll towards the city centre. Turned out to be more of a hike than a stroll, it took around an hour along an arrow straight 8 lane road lined with newish large concrete and glass buildings, with plenty of construction work for more of the same. It wasn't until a few hundred metres from the city centre that the small shops, tea houses, street traders and other pedestrians began to appear. Probably not a coincidence that the road narrowed from 8 to 2 lanes with the traffic chaos that could be expected. The whistle blowing traffic cops had their work cut out for them, and as for the cops in a SUV intermittently flashing red & blue lights and sounding their siren, progress was a forlorn expectation
The centre is actually a large raised circular citadel, with a rather nice adjacent park and, of course, covered bazaar and street markets. The area was packed with people, lots of shoppers, lots enjoying the fountains in the park, lots enjoying their tea and lots of men playing very fast ‑ and very serious ‑ board & tile games. After refreshment in the middle of the bazaar ‑ very sweet black tea ‑ I headed back but rather than walk back I opted for a taxi. While one of the Kurdish dialects is the principal language, there seems to be a lot of Arabic loan words and my somewhat basic colloquial Arabic was readily understood by the taxi driver. I probably paid the khawagah price, but 4000 dinar didn’t seem unreasonable.
Erbil/Hawler/Hewlêr
Again I walked into the centre of town, intending to explore the Citadel. On the way there I noticed a small museum of civilisation that I'd obviously missed seeing previously and tho very small, it was quite good, displaying local artefacts of almost unimaginable age thru to early Ottoman times. The Citadel itself, when I finally got there after an hour or so walk, was well worth the effort. The Citadel is a UN World Heritage site and is undergoing massive stabilisation/restoration works which means that most of the area is off‑limits, but there were a few Ottoman era houses, a hammam and a mosque that could be visited. No hassles, no touts, no entrance fees!
After a leisurely tour of the Citadel, I descended to the covered market and spent quite a lot of time exploring the various by ways full of jewellers, dress and furnishing fabric shops, florists and garden shops that had massive piles of tulip and other assorted bulbs on display. Naturally there were the usual clothing, home wares and tea shops too. A late lunch in the market was something of an experience, no menu, it was take what you're given, and everyone was given heaps. A plate of mixed salads then a bowl of soup and then a plate of mixed grilled meats accompanied by more pickles/salad and copious fresh bread with each serving, plus, inevitably, a glass of tea to complete proceedings. The serves weren’t small either, there was enough food for two (or three)
While I didn't feel much like walking after that, walking was the only way to recover from such indulgence.
Dohuk
It seems counter intuitive but the consensus amongst Erbil locals was that in order to save, or at least, minimise, back‑tracking it would be better for me to head west back towards Turkey and then loop back eastward thru the mountains to Suleimaniyah. This route would also avoid Mosul and Kirkuk, both of which the locals deem to be unsafe.
So, after considerable ado, I headed off towards Dohuk in a shared taxi. It took all day to cover the 140 km from Erbil to Dohuk, not because of the condition of the road ‑ it's really good, with an amazing amount of roadwork being done to make it even better ‑ nor because of the congestion that the single lane military style temporary bridges caused, nor because of the multitude of militia checkpoints ‑ requiring the production and close inspection of my passport each time, which turned out to be the reason for much of the hassle earlier, everyone knew that my presence would cause difficulty ‑ nor because such a long journey called for frequent tea shop stops, rather it was because there were so many interesting things along the way and fellow passengers who were insistent that the sights not be missed!
The route between Erbil and Dohuk runs thru some very desolate, barren landscape, tho there were considerable sized fields ready for planting wheat when the anticipated rains come in a few weeks. It also passes thru the Zagros Mountains with some pretty steep climbs/descents and the traffic was pretty heavy all the way.
The most fascinating bit of the day was actually a bit of a detour into the mountain, involving another taxi, to Lalish, a Yazidi settlement and pilgrimage site. Nestled in a green mountain valley were the friendliest of people and the most amazing of temples. I know very little about the Yazidi either in terms of their ethnicity or their religious beliefs but the hour or so spent in Lalish was truly remarkable, if I hadn't wanted to be in Dohuk well before twilight I'd have spent more time there. As it was, actually picking up yet another taxi was a tad fraught but in the end I got to Dohuk in daylight ‑ seems to be some, ummm, 'friction' between Yazidis and Kurds and of course vice-versa, hence the difficulty in getting a taxi...
Dohuk is quite big and spreads out along the foot of mountains, it looks to be interesting too, lots of colourful houses (most towns/villages are of unpainted concrete or are in hues of pale brown), plenty of large newish looking buildings and plenty of young people
Dohuk
Dohuk is indeed a bright place; not too many sights, rather, it's just a very relaxed, very friendly and seemingly prosperous place.
The bazaar is small but incredibly busy and a wander thru was really interesting ‑ as was the freshly squeezed pomegranate juice, to which was added a touch of salt, very refreshing. As I wandered thru the bazaar I was twice hailed by young Kurds recently returned 'home' from the diaspora, one from Canada, the other from England, both times I was warmly welcomed and given advice on what to see and do (and more importantly, given yesterdays experience,how to do these things).
Taking the advice of my newfound friends, I took a taxi even further west to the frontier town of Zahko which turned out to be a mini‑me of Dohuk, but with a rather interesting 'sight', a spectacular, if somewhat asymmetrical, old bridge of unknown antiquity but most claimed it to be some 1300 years old. The 40ish km trip was interesting in itself, it's the major route to Turkey and Europe and the volume of heavy trucks was unbelievable. There were numerous check points along the way, both police and customs, on asking about customs checkpoints I was told that both Zahko and Dohuk were centres for smugglers (petrol & tobacco) which was the reason for their affluence.
So much for avoiding backtracking, going to Zahko meant backtracking to Dohuk
On arriving back in Dohuk in the very late afternoon, a fellow passenger took me to the nearby dam. A dam is a dam, even a dam with a park and restaurants at the foot of the dam wall, but there are actually the remnants of a Zoastrian temple next to the dam and the sunset made a spectacular sight from the top of the temple hill.
Rawanduz
I wasn't quite certain last night exactly where I was, it was dark when I arrived and shortly thereafter there was a power cut!
I’d spent a long day in incredibly rugged mountains whose steep slopes with massive rocky outcrops seemed to stretch forever in every direction. I was told that the altitude varied between 1500 & 2500 metres. I'm not fabulously comfortable with narrow, twisting roads with sheer drops all around, but I have to say that the scenery was so spectacular that I was so engrossed that I didn’t think about how I felt. Like everywhere I've seen here, an awful lot of infrastructure construction projects ‑ roads, water & telecommunications ‑ are underway, even in remote mountain villages. And there were a lot of villages, the valleys were green, with lots of trees and fruit orchards and grapevines, with plenty of fast flowing streams, and where the ground wasn't suitable for growing things, the herds of sheep and/or cattle were immense. The village houses may have had earthen roofs, or simply plastic roofing, but satellite dishes and new cars were ubiquitous
Amadiya was a particularly atmospheric town, perched on a plateau with a very narrow causeway approach; a very simple 13th century mosque, a very impressive city gate of unknown age and a simple bazaar covered with cut tree branches provided a picturesque backdrop. Getting to Amadiya from Dohuk was quite easy, getting away from Amadiya was somewhat more difficult, so when I was offered a lift to Barzan I jumped at it. The driver turned out to be part of the security detail at a grandiose memorial that’s being built in Bazan to honour the President's family. The price of the ride was a tour of the memorial. At the memorial an onward taxi was arranged for me, at first the destination was to be Erbil, but when I said I wanted to go elsewhere, there was considerable discussion before an alternative destination was decided on (there was also an increase in the fare even tho the time/distance to Erbil was more)
After Barzan, the road travelled, in part, along the route of the famous Hamilton Road which is what I had wanted to see, deep in a narrow gorge where a modern road uses the opposite bank of the river, it's possible to see a small section of the original road and it's an impressive piece of wartime endeavour. Not too long afterwards, the taxi deposited me at the top of a mountain, at the only hotel in the region, or at least probably the only hotel willing to accept foreigners and as a power cut plunged everything into darkness, my day came to an abrupt end.
Suleimaniyah
Today was a 'more' day, that is, it was a repeat of yesterday only with more mountains, more villages/towns, more traffic and more taxi rides.
Some spectacular scenery again today but high speed highway travel is what springs to mind as the dominant part of the day.
Suleimaniyah is a very large and somewhat unattractive city but I haven't done much exploration as yet cos this afternoon I followed the insistent advice of almost all (English speaking, that is) fellow taxi passengers and went to the 'Red House', a Saddam era interrogation centre. It's as sombre and depressing as it sounds.
Suleimaniyah
Suleimaniyah is indeed a very large unattractive city but it's filled with the friendliest people you can imagine, while eating dinner last night I met a local family who ended up inviting me to join them on a picnic today, which I did and in doing so enjoyed the kind of day that makes travelling so amazing. Being a Friday, the day got off to a leisurely start with a stroll thru the bazaar which was nice, as was the regional sweet speciality, manna, yes as in 'manna from heaven' which is apparently made using tree sap (it tasted like date flavoured nougat to me). After the stroll, we set off for our picnic at a lovely waterfall deep in a mountain gorge (quite near the Iranian border) and also quite near Halabja.
After seeing the 'Red House' yesterday I was going to give the other local must see sight ‑ Halabja ‑ a miss, but as it sort of bordered on being disrespectful not to go, I did in fact go with the flow as it were and went with the family to Halabja, one of the villages where Saddam used chemical weapons against the Kurds & Iranians some 25 years ago. The village has since been rebuilt and is a fascinating little rural village in its own right, but the mass graves and a memorial centre are the focus. As with the 'Red House', what can you say about the unspeakable?
A short backtrack toward Suleimaniyah and a seemingly slow crawl in an old 4WD along a goat track (to call it a road would be quite misleading) deep into a mountain gorge took us to the picnic spot. It was incredibly picturesque, it was also very crowded with lots of families picnicking, and the friendly, almost festive, atmosphere was the perfect antidote to the horrors of Halabja. I was made to feel really welcome and spent a lot of time with a lot of people, both adults and children, who wanted to practice their English language skills. As for the picnic, like the others I saw, there was more food than could reasonably be eaten!
As we drove back towards Suleimaniyah as the sun set, I was quite casually told that the waterfall was where 3 American hikers had been arrested by Iranian border guards before spending a couple of years imprisoned in Iran, which may well explain some of the drawn‑out discussions about me at military checkpoints earlier in the day
Erbil
Not too much done today, it took all day to get back to Erbil from Suleimaniyah.
Quite by chance tho there was very little backtracking as today I travelled on the back road route rather than the highway. The back road must be shorter than the highway cos even tho it’s very mountainous, the traffic consisted mostly of heavy vehicles and taxis. There were a lot of quite small villages plus a couple of bigger towns and a stop in one of these towns, Koya(?:), turned into one of those fabulous experiences that make travelling so stimulating. All stops revolve around tea, and here the tea shop was literally in a hole in a wall and after drinking my tea I was taken by a couple of the other tea drinkers on an inspection tour of the wall. It turned out to be a derelict,actually, half collapsed, caravansary which is now used for poultry and goats. Crossing the yard we came out next to a slightly off‑putting butchers shop (probably the final destination for the goats) The butcher was a very friendly guy and took great delight in having his picture taken. By now our entouage had grown to quite a size and a walk thru the very basic bazaar ‑ predominantly dry goods and rural hardware ‑ took on the air of a triumphal procession. When it was time to go to continue the journey I was presented with a lapel badge that carries the flag of Kurdistan. It was a really nice interlude in what seemed like an interminable and somewhat boring journey.
Perhaps it's just as well that I'm heading back to Istanbul tomorrow, you see on arrival I was given a free 15 day entry permit, but if I stay more than 10 days then the permit is no longer free!
Erbil to Istanbul
The taxi came at 01:00 as arranged but we didn’t leave for the airport until 01:30; flat battery. After a jump start we almost flew to the airport, red lights and other such things were obviously advisory only
At the entrance to the airport the taxi could go no further as the airport is strictly passengers only. The first security check ‑ screening of both baggage and passengers plus a very thorough pat down of passengers ‑ was at the entrance to the airport itself and after being transported to the airport terminal, the security routine was repeated on entering the terminal ‑ this time with a particularly invasive body search. Passport control was as detailed leaving as it was on arrival and included a matching of fingerprints with those taken on arrival. At the boarding gate, the security routine was repeated yet again, and was so detailed that binoculars were removed from a passengers hand luggage and the body scanner alarm was tripped by another passengers ear studs (and for the first time ever, by the cleats on my bike sandals).
The flight from Erbil left (late) at 04:00 and so ended my Iraqi interlude.