“Are you out of your mind ?!! Please be careful, people warned when they heard I was booked to visit Iraq at a time when its neighbors were lobbing weapons at each other. Although anxious to see the “cradle of civilization, I was mildly apprehensive, and in fact seven of the twelve travel agents who’d signed up for our week-long tour backed out. But the remaining five of us, well-traveled women spanning ages 40-80ish, spent six wonderful days on the Cadence Vacations/100 Hala trip, driving up and down the country without incident or concern, visiting precious ancient sites and encountering friendly locals.
In a survey of world history, central Iraq is where it begins. The Tigris and Euphrates rivers, running parallel, encircle the fertile lands of Mesopotamia. Four thousand years before 01 AD, before Egyptian, Greek, and Roman achievements, Sumerians in Mesopotamia were building giant brick and mud palaces and altars, devising the arch, vault, wheel, ventilation, writing systems, and other basic features which were “rediscovered” during later eras.
In coming centuries, subsequent tribes and peoples left behind a fascinating variety of styles and artifacts. We saw some of the oldest objects on earth in the Baghdad and Nasiriyah museums and rambling around actual sites not yet cordoned off to restrict tourists.
We were careful to keep our legs and arms covered and wore colorful cotton $2 abayas to visit mosques. Everywhere we encountered teenagers, women in purdah, waiters, shopkeepers delighted to hear we were from Canada and Ameeeeeeeerica stopping us to take selfies — schoolchildren practicing their English, parents holding up babies to pose with us in photos, security guards grinning and waving us through. On one street in Mosul, a yellow car pulled over, six guys in construction vests jumped out stopping traffic to have their pictures taken with us.
Our guides tried to keep an eye on us as we strayed through the tempting wares and spices at bazaars and storefront shops. Nighttime is lively, stores stay open until almost midnight. Never feeling threatened or unsafe, we’d stroll home past curbside cafes and brightly lit shops selling clothing and food. On solo shopping missions we found fresh dates at supermarkets, sandals and flower print pumps at fashion stores, indulgent ice cream at coffee shops, and local beer at fully stocked stores selling liquor.
The food our guides ordered was traditional, healthy, generous, and affordable. Ready-made falafel shop sandwiches cost only about $2 and $15 was the main course price for our very fanciest dinner. Almost every meal started with plates of tahini, yogurt cucumbers, and chopped tomatoes, jalapenos, pickles, eggplant, followed by chicken and rice or long patties of grilled lamb served with greens, onions, and more tomatoes. The seasoning was delicious, even beneath its crispy grilled skin the chicken meat was savory. Plentiful bottled water, fruit juices, and soda substituted for alcoholic beverages which aren’t served in restaurants. Ubiquitous at every meal were big rounds of puffy white naan bread — we’d use it as sandwich wraps or “plates.”
Accommodations were clean and comfortable. The capital city’s Baghdad Hotel was a 5-star with spacious rooms, spa facilities, a huge outdoor pool surrounded by restaurant options. In outlying areas the 3-4 star hotels were suitably contemporary and efficient. In rooms with balconies — or tiny windows — we found crisp white sheets, tissues folded into elaborate peaks, little boxes of dental, shaving, and cotton swab amenities. TV and English language channels were hit or miss, but when the wifi worked it was almost faster and more efficient than what I have at home. Ironically in a country of sandals, every hotel was equipped with shoeshine machines.
We did encounter primitive and features not unexpected in a developing region. Once or twice every day the electricity would go out –always restored within a minute or two. Secondary roads were bumpy, restaurants and highway rest stops tended to be fitted with squat facilities instead of sit-down toilets. Luggage is scanned at some hotels, museums, and mosques. Amidst the rebuilding, lingering signs of war devastation are unsettling, and especially in the southern districts trash proliferation is unsightly. We had to have our passports at the ready for frequent checkpoint stops where photography was restricted, but guards who caught us snapping pictures simply wagged their fingers “No-no” and sent us off with smiles and salutes.
We weren’t the only tourists. We’d run into occasional Australians and Germans and local Iraquis exploring their country’s treasures. A couple times we intersected with a busload of tourists from Italy, their guide told me his company welcomes one or two Italian groups per month.
Our own guide, Mohammed, from100 Hala (it translates to “100 welcomes”) told me he’s anxious to share the heritage he’s proud of. Email: info@100Hala.com
His firm is collaborating with Cadence Vacations (Email: info@cvc.vacations) to promote more visits to the ancient land of Gilgamesh, the Tower of Babel, the Arabian Nights.
