Landmarks

I intend to try and post photos each Friday morning, which is Friday afternoon in Perth (this one is late because the single public access PC in the guesthouse has been in use all morning; there once was several, but Blue Sun in its infinite wisdom removed all but one, on the apparent logic that it’s better to force the newly arrived ex-pat partners to call home long-distance than to provide easy access to email – it’s especially frustrating when there’s seven or eight unused PCs in the computer room all with Blue Sun log-ons that I can’t access). As mentioned before, at first these will be old photos from our two-week trip in January until the camera arrives.


So this is the guesthouse, where I will be staying until our relatively modest mansion is completed – one to two days, according to the landlord – but in which week will those one to two days occur? Inshallah. The guesthouse has four floors, including the basement and the laundry room on the top floor. The high walls are for privacy more than security.

The landmark to the guesthouse had been a pile of rubbish (turn left at the stump, turn right at the fuel station, turn left at the giant pile of rubbish…) until it was removed. Somone has obligingly begun a new pile, but until it grows, the landmark will now have to be the massive pothole spreading across most of the unpaved road, due to the torrential rain Tripoli has been receiving.

[Although Libya is mostly desert and holds the record for the hottest temperature ever recorded, Tripoli is on the Mediterranean coast and has similar weather to Perth. So it does rain here – but it doesn’t usually pour down like it has been doing.]


Walking from the guesthouse to the Blue Sun office, or more importantly the hotel the office is housed in, with its ATM (they’re rare but they’re here, though they do tend to run out of money quite often), the first major landmark is the national library, through the trees there. Why, yes, that does look just like a palace – this was King Idris’s old palace, which he had moved out of just before the coup. The new palace is on the harbour front, but I don’t know what it was turned into.

Walking here, by the way, involves much the same technique as driving – calmly enter the first available gap in traffic and expect the cars to adjust themselves accordingly. It has some amount of logic to it. Walking here alone (as a Western woman) involves receiving a certain amount of attention. Young men are the same anywhere, I suppose, and here there are very many young men (the definition of ‘young’ being extended somewhat by the culture of living at home till you’re married), of whom a higher proportion than at home feel entitled to say something to a ‘sexily dressed’ woman (believe me, I’m not by Western standards). I should stress it’s not a Muslim vs other religion thing, or a Libyan vs foreigner thing, but a man vs woman not deserving of respect thing (which of course culture and religion does feed into; and that's a pretty big blanket statement too - some of the men are just being friendly i.e. they'd say the same thing if the Ambassador was with me, or to their sister). It’s still irritating and mentally exhausting but it’s not unsafe.


The next major landmark is this mosque. This was once a cathedral apparently, and I think it’s just lovely.








Then you come to Green Square. This is a bit of a carpark/hang-out zone most of the time, but it’s where the Libyans come to rally and hear Mr G speak. This photo was taken early Friday morning, which is why it's pretty deserted. Across there in the back right you can see his speech platform. Word to the wise – don’t wander up on that thing looking for, say, a good vantage point for photos, or armed guards may move you along.

Then it’s across the front of the fort and the old medina to get to the hotel. I’ll post photos of those later. This isn’t the shortest way, by the way, just the landmark way.