Laziness

I'm going to celebrate the holiday period by being lazy and posting a link to someone else's photos...my friend recently visited Libya (and didn't officialdom make her feel welcome with a two hour wait at the airport while they pretended they were looking for the visa...) and here are photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/stringy/collections/72157603444720766/

Desert trip - the rock art

First someone steals our bin - twice! - then someone tries to break in. Tsk Tsk.

Anyway, here's some photos of the ancient cave paintings and etchings scattered throughout the region in the south of Libya. The art shifts over time from depicting wild animals like giraffes, elephants and rhinoceroses, to cattle, to horses and finally to camels and date palms, reflecting the change in landscape from a savannah paradise, to plains, to semi-arid, to the desert of today.

Pictures posted in no particular dating order or theme...

Desert trip

Long absence. When I got back from the desert, our internet was naturally not working and then I went off to Africa for a month. I'll post photos of that some other time, but this week I want to show off some of our desert trip photos. This trip was a highlight of the sightseeing we have done within Libya itself. This week I'll post scenery shots of the various desert landscapes. Then I'll post some of the amazing rock art that can be found down there.

gold souk

Very quick entry this week, as I'm off on a desert tour, should be some very interesting photos to post when I get back.

Continuing the medina theme, this is a photo of the front window of one of the very very many gold stores in the gold souk. I believe this are generally catering the wedding jewellery requirement, and may or may not be Berber gold being sold off by the tribes.

This is close-up of two of the more elaborate necklaces.

I'm not much for gold myself so haven't bought it, but apparently it is very well-priced and is sold by weight.

The copper souk

There’s a variety of souks in the medina: the tourist souk right near the main entrance off Green Square (a collection of everything you can find in the medina plus a lot of imports from sub-Saharan Africa), the gold souk, the cloth souk, the rug bazaar, the copper souk etc.

The copper souk is in a short lane leading off from the Ottoman clock tower and is one of my favourite places in the medina. Nicknamed ‘tin pan alley’, it constantly echoes to the banging of hammer on metal, and is, like many of the little shops here, a treasure trove of potluck: you can rummage around the junk on the shelves and come up with some fantastic stuff. The alley outside the cave-like shops is lined with tarnished and broken metal pieces.

The woman in white on the edge of the photo is a widow and in general probably a beggar. I have been told the mosques support such women when their husbands die and leave them without resources. I often see them walking along the middle of the roads with their hand out, silently imploring the drivers. Sadly, sometimes they’re dragging their young kids along with them.

Begging seems to have increased here, or perhaps expats/foreigners are seen as soft targets and attract more of it. I personally don’t give to beggars as a general rule, particularly as my cross-cultural teacher swore blind that begging is not a necessity in this culture and that they should not need to do it. Not sure if she was being idealistic or not.

Anyway, enough of that diversion. This is my favourite copper souk purchase: when I found it, the lid was broken off and it was so tarnished none of the pattern was apparent, it looked like it was plain brass. I chose it solely because I liked the shape. The young boy manning the stall took it off to fix the lid for me, and when I came back he had also polished it. It looked so different I did not recognise it as the same piece. I did try using it as a vase but it’s not water-proof. Still pretty though.

Knitting: Finished the Doctor Who scarf! Hooray. No strength to start a new project just yet and it's not going to be a scarf, that's for sure.

Reading: Neal Stephenson.

Watching: nothing, our Sky box broke.

Medina

‘Medina’ simply means city, and medina here refers to the old city of Tripoli (not the old, old city, which was the Roman Oea, the only remnant of which is the arch I posted a picture of very early on and a few columns at a crossroads). It’s a rabbit warren of alleys and was, when we first arrived, very run down, as the photo evidences (I know I posted this one ages ago, it’s just a reminder as I start the medina series). Next time I’m there, I’ll get a photo of this same alley now – it’s been whitewashed, the road made even, the wiring tidied etc, quite the facelift and a bit of a relief in terms of the smell.

Like any city, the medina is made up of a collection of souks (markets), mosques, madrassa (schools), banks, restaurants and funduq (hotels), a prison (latest rumour: there are prison cells under the medina with people still in them), and residential areas, some grand and once used to house consulates, other less grand. You hardly ever to get to see beyond the doors into residential areas, but when you do get a glimpse, almost invariably the door opens into a lovely tiled open courtyard areas, with lots of doors coming off from there. This particular photo is of the interior of one of the consulates which now houses a science library for students and lets tourists look around for a nominal fee. It’s a pleasant two-storey building around this shady central courtyard, and could be another world from the hot and noisy alley outside.

Despite these photos, the medina is actually a busy, bustling, lively place, especially in the late afternoon/evening. I go out of my way to avoid getting people in the shots, easy to do in the early morning when everyone is still in bed. I don’t tend to go the medina often; despite its intrinsic appeal, women alone do get hassled (in the ‘oh so sexy’ way, not the getting-mugged way), making a casual wander low on the list of things-to-do.

Next time, I’ll take a look at the souks. Happy Eid everybody.

Stick in the Road

Been away to Australia for the last few weeks, where, aside from all the pleasures of home, I did find myself becoming irritated with the sheer number of traffic lights (Here, I can get from home to the Blue Sun office and go through precisely one set, and that’s a thirty minute drive), as well as being a little shocked at having to pay $17 for a day’s parking in town and paying about the same for a sandwich and drink for lunch...

Anyway I’ve had one of those weeks which make me wonder why I came back here, but let’s not dwell – here’s a photo of some typical lateral problem-solving skills. Hole in the road that’s not going to be fixed anytime in the next decade? Let’s make sure everyone notices it before they drive into it. Stick’s not enough? Hang some rubbish off it, that’ll help.

Just the one photo, I’m on dial-up now. Not much fun being on dial-up in a broadband world...

Reading: Lois McMaster Bujold

Watching: almost to the end of Season 1 Veronica Mars, regretting not getting Season 2 and 3 when I had the chance, hint hint...

Knitting: Well, I had (still!) been knitting that freaking 20 ft long Dr Who scarf. But then...oh, well, one more photo. Here’s the dog wearing his new knitted leash. Trè chic! It’s for when we’re jogging (hah! “jogging”...) and attaches around my waist for hand’s free dog control (hah! “control”).

I still intend to get to medina photos, but sloooooooooow internet is putting me off.

General observations

After a glorious few days of internet, we lost our phone line again. It did come back after a week, but can no longer connect to the net. Therefore, borrowed internet, therefore quick post and no photos.

The destruction continues apace. The authentic-tourist-experience of the fish market, which our two sets of visitors have thoroughly enjoyed, has been or is about to be demolished. This was the place where you could point at the fish you wanted and then point at the restaurant you wanted it cooked in (or of course take it home and cook it yourself if you really want to). The fish are being sold from the roundabout near the Blue Sun office (does wonders for traffic, I can tell you), but the restaurants can't relocate so easily.

Buildings along the coast road are also being demolished, and billboards of the startlingly futuristic complexes and towers meant to replace them have been erected. Near the airport - still standing - is a billboard announcing the grand new airport project, so part of that rumour is true, anyway. Walls are coming down everywhere, often replacing large expanses of empty wasteland, making you wonder what the wall was protecting.

I have now seen what at least a few Libyan women do when they want to swim - they go in fully clothed, right down to the robes and hijab. I say 'to swim' but they really just stand in the water up to their neck, I think if they tried to actually swim in soaked thick and clinging cloth they'd drown.

We got our scuba diving license during the week, from this company. Libya is about to become the next big diving spot, supposedly (note the article refers to billions of investment money to develop the beachfront, that explains the billboards I guess). Can't say I've seen much evidence of abundant underwater attractions so far (did see an octupus, Moray eel and stingray, however), but that was just the training site. We plan to have ourselves taken off to a 'real' dive site along the coast next weekend (mostly archaelogical or wreck sites rather than natural attractions). Also, you can go diving in a lake in the Sahara.

I have finally come round to liking dates, if only in cooking - date loaf and banana and date milkshakes are working well for me.

I intend to eventually get some proper photos of the medina up; it continues to change rapidly as with the rest of tourist-attracting areas. The giant rubbish tip that made the walk from the Blue Sun office to the Arch such a thick-air experience in summer has been cleared out, and the alleyways are being repaired and repainted. Prices remain decent, though given the abrupt demands of the tourists off the cruise ships (How much? -- Seven dinah, madam -- Three!), I do not expect that to last too much longer - why wouldn't you double your prices once you work out tourists will automatically offer half the asking price? It worked for swapmeet.

Nice

I didn't really think I'd like Nice based on its reputation but in fact despite the huge numbers of tourists focused on the beach, it was still a lovely place, particularly the old town. That's the triangle of red roofs in the picture, which was taken from the hill overlooking Nice, which is like a King's Park in terms of relaxed public space.

Beyond the triangle is 'modern' Nice ie loads of the older terrace-style flats you see in every European city plus a recently remodelled strip where they've been installing a tram line for at least 3 years.

Here's the famous Riviera beach, pebbly and crowded. Plus when I went swimming (I couldn't go all that way and not take a swim), I got stung by a red jellyfish, which reminded me why I prefer pools.

Nice has a long history of attracting tourists, and at one time many Russians came to the area, which explains this early-20th century Russian cathedral. Though it looks big from the outside, the public space is just a tiny room inside, with an icon of St Nicolas which worshippers kiss and bow to - some more enthusiatically than others. I watched an old lady lay her forehead on the glass for minutes at the time and bow right down to touch the ground before it, then watched a younger man give it a peck and a little nod - well, whose prayers are going to get answered between those two? The glass was covered with smudges from people kissing it, it was really quite unhygienic.

The hills and mountains rise up only a short distance back from the coast, and there's lots of little French towns to go see, like St Paul's de Vence, just Vence, La Turbie (overlooking Monaco), Tourrette's, and Gordon, all of which have their little old towns still preserved and are pleasant places to wander around in. Pictured is Eze on the hill (as opposed to Eze by the sea at its feet). I was impressed that in between the over-developed sprawl, green open space has survived.

Along the coast, I skipped Monte Carlo and Cannes and visited Antibes, Villefranche and Menton. Menton in particular I enjoyed as the old town is still entirely residential, the shops being confined to the bottom of the hill. This means it's a quiet and shady place to take a stroll in. The Menton cemetary, where the English and Russian TB patients were buried (Nice and surrounds once being a supposed cure for consumption), is also worth visiting...and for those who are following the new Dr Who...

DON'T BLINK.

Continuing on the car theme, but still no photos

I had hoped to post photos of the various counterfeit car brands this week (Tayota etc; my favourite is GoNow) but my laptop's battery died and I'm working on a shared PC now, so no access to photos.

I have figured out why I have had so much trouble reversing here: I have kept the habit of looking behind over my left shoulder. Here, this means I'm looking down the side of the car rather than the centre as with a right-hand drive. Even having realised this, I still have to remind myself to look right instead. (Homer: lucky you got looks, Marge).

Anyhoo. In season: peaches, figs, grapes, excellent mangoes, plums, melon etc.

You might have gathered this place kind of runs on rumour. They knocked down Souk Thalat to build a park, a car park or a new train station for the trans-North Africa railway (hah). A woman got deported for complaining about jet-skiers who turned out to be more well-connected than she was. Certain hotels and restuarants have been invited to apply for a license to serve 'touristic' drinks (this is a rumour that pops up regularly, but then so did the rumour about 4WDs becoming legal, and then that happened). And the latest: the international airport is about to be demolished. But don't worry, the new one will be ready in 2009! In between, maybe they'll use the shiny new but very small domestic terminal, maybe they'll use the military airport...or maybe they'll use the existing site and check everyone in and out in...wait for it...tents. Yep.

Reading various books about Nice. On that note, no posts for a while, I'm off to Nice. Inshallah I will have a phone line again by the time I get back (they have fixed 4 of the 8 lines that are having troubles, we're just not one of them).

General blather - no photos

I forgot to mention last week that as we were passing through London on our way back from Iceland, we attended the Harry Potter premiere. Well, we didn't see the movie, but we were in the square to see the stars arrive. Well, we didn't actually get to see the stars live, but we did get to stand on the you-arrived-too-late-losers side of the square and watch them on a screen. That's just as good as the real thing judging by the number of people taking photos and footage of said screen with their mobile phones.

Anyway. Still no internet at home, obviously (or I'd be able to give you some photos). The public beach is even busier and more colourful than last summer, and this year they even have lifeguard towers - though frankly they're so rickety I wouldn't climb them if I was a lifeguard. I'm not even sure the men I see at the top of them are lifeguards, as opposed to random people who want to sit up there.

I've mentioned the new bus stops before - the other day I even saw one that had a full-sized pull-in bay too. Not that that stops the Iveco buses from stopping in traffic 100m further down the road. Using the pull-in bay would cost 20 seconds, you see. I also saw a street sign in both Arabic and English. So sometimes the rumours are true - I first heard they were going to re-erect the street signs around six months ago, I think, or longer. And now I know the real name of the coast road.

The retro Chrysler Cruisers have made a dramatic entry onto the roads here. Like swallows for summer, first there was one, then there was a handful, and now they're swarming, it's like an entire cargo-ship of the things were released overnight. I love these cars, but they're impractical and fuel-thirsty so I'd never get one. But hey, when fuel's cheaper than milk, why not? On the other hand, I have seen a single lonely Smart car.

Watching Ridicule, French period-comedy. Reading One Red Paperclip, enjoyable enough but doesn't match the master of the gimmick non-fiction genre, Danny Wallace. Eyeing off my Lord Peter short story collection for my next selection (I held out six months, that ain't bad).

Iceland

It's been around six months since I took the route to the guesthouse: firstly, I now know why the roads are in such bad condition here; part of the road was shut off so they could re-surface it and yet they had foolishly left a slight gap which cars were squeezing - me included since I didn't feel like turning around - how on earth they're ever going to clear cars off long enough to get the tarmac down I do not know. Secondly, the hospital on the corner that used to be my landmark for my turn off the university road has been so altered with new buildings and walls that I almost missed the turn. Whole swathes of other areas nearby have been knocked down and are awaiting re-development. I do not think people who haven't lived here can comprehend how amazing these changes appear to my eyes.

Anyway, Iceland. You all thought it looked like this, admit it. In winter, it might but in summer, snow only survives in the high areas. Most days, the weather was like a Perth winter day, cool but clear.

Some of the landscapes are like another world.








And some were just plain pretty (though this photo is mainly to prove that it wasn't all snow and black rocks).




I have to say I was somewhat disappointed with some of the errors we came across in the Lonely Planet. We went to one isolated restaurant based on its description of their menu, walked inside and asked for a table for two, only to hear, 'We're happy for you to have lunch with us but we are not a restaurant any longer': yep, we'd walked into a private home and demanded that they feed us. For a book published in May to still list a restaurant that closed two years ago is pretty poor (you're wondering how we made such a mistake: all the farms are signposted and the restuarant had the same name as the farm; many of the restuarants are converted private homes and this one looked just like those, including several tables and chair sets outside; no, we didn't eat with them).

The other error was more serious: in the section on the Interior it listed the tour to the Askja caldera as only running from mid-July; it was only when we got around to the north that we found out that that was a misprint and it actually runs from mid-June. By sheerest luck, we were going to be in the area on the day the tour was running, and were able to get places on it. And if I had missed seeing this part of the isolated interiour because of the Lonely Planet's carelessness, you can bet that would have been the last of their guide books for me.
Fantastic guide on that tour, by the way, sang us Icelandic folk songs and told us Icelandic fairy tales all the way home.


I could post photos all day: waterfalls and mountain valleys, geysers, the Blue Lagoon where the water is 38 degrees and an unhealthier luminent shade of blue, lava fields and black deserts made from glacial floods. There's so much to see, so much to do (golf, diving, horse-riding, hiking, camping, bird-watching, climbing, caving etc etc etc), and so many new animals to eat - the Ambassador added horse and reindeer to his list, but missed out on adding whale (for obvious reasons) and puffin (out of season, the only restaurant serving the cute little fellas also served whale).

Let me leave it with these last two photos: one, the dog sledding team who pulled us across a glacier for an hour, with their musher (official title). These dogs were the stars of Tomb Raider. One of them, as a puppy, peed on Angelina Jolie. They're Greenland dogs, not huskies.

And the other photo: the lake at the toe of a glacier, full of icebergs.






Let's see. Reading The Hours, watching Fever Pitch, still knitting the Dr Who scarf. No idea when I'll post next, depends on internet access.

No Internet

No post on Iceland for a while as our phone line at home was taken out while we were away. Not in the literal sense, but the 'there was a wedding in the area and now no one's phone line works anymore for some reason' sense.

I think have neglected to give appropriate kudos to whoever's in charge for the recent clean-up effort, and for the rather odd greening of the roundabouts - they tried that last year, planting lawn all over the roundabouts, and it all died, but this year they're watering it. The approach to Janzour actually looks clean and inviting right now. And extremely busy at night with young people hanging out in one of the only parks in the area, even if it is just a strip of lawn next to a main road.

By the way, Souk Thalat's gone, completely demolished. Some stores had a few days' notice, some had none. The vegie market moved to near the butcher street, but where do I get garden and hardware supplies now?

Iceland post with photos either when I get home internet again, or enough time and opportunity to plug my laptop in somewhere.

Green Square

Early entry this week and no entry for a few weeks, we're off to Iceland tomorrow.

Here's an interesting contrast. Modern Green Square. Look at all those 4WD in the photo, they must be a tourist desert troupe because when I took this photo over a year ago, 4WDs were illegal on the roads. Now they're everywhere.









And then old Green Square, though I'm guessing it was called something else back then.



Watching: Wordplay, a fantastic documentary about the New York Times crossword and its editor, Will Shortz; the fans, including some famous ones eg Bill Clinton; and the annual crossword tournament in the US. It also showed how a compiler comes up with a crossword, which was really interesting. Funniest bit was Shortz reading out letters from irate solvers, saddest bit was...

SPOILER SPOILER STOP READING IF YOU CARE





...was poor poor Al who should have taken 10 extra seconds to check over his work in the final (Always finished third in the final for years! Barely even made the final this year! Was five minutes ahead of young punk Tyler! Just had to look up and see he hadn't quite finished One Across before announcing he was done...). Poor, poor Al.


END OF SPOILER

Also watching: Thank You for Smoking, black comedy with very sly humour, right down to the three "merchants of death", lobbyists for cigarettes, guns and alcohol, arguing about which of them is most deserving of being kidnapped and punished by protest groups.

Trying to watch: Grendel. Turned it off in the first ten minutes due to incredibly awful acting and script-writing. The halls were mighty, the warriors were mighty, the ship was mighty...you know, we invented a mighty thesaurus of adjectives since Beowulf was written, maybe you should use it.

Reading: Memoirs of a Geisha. Solid research, interesting insight into this ancient sub-culture, very careful about presenting certain unpleasant aspects with too much comment.

Spices

I have been neglecting to give appropriate kudos to the Tripoli government - lots of orange-clad workers are out and about cleaning up rubbish from the coast road down Gargaresh and all the way through Janzour. And not just rubbish, I saw one poor group sweeping up sand from the side of the roads, why don't we just give them a giant rock and ask them to push it uphill for eternity? The city is looking much cleaner these days.

I also have another new cafe to plug, this one is Ca Cao opposite the Omega Centre on Gargaresh. Not as good as Cafe Marcus, but anyone who does ice coffee and hot chocolate is alright by me.

On to this week's entry, my local spice guy (though the main thing I buy from him is nuts and dried apricots rather than spices as such). These photos are very blurry I'm afraid, but it's just to give you an idea of what he sells in his little alcove in the grocery store.















Reading: Fragile Things, Neil Gaimon (collection of short stores after Smoke and Mirrors) and In Cold Blood, a classic of creative non-fiction.
Watching: The Seven-per-Cent Solution, a 1976 movie in which Sherlock Holmes and Siegmund Freud team up to solve a kidnap mystery in Vienna. Featuring killer white horses and the immortal line (uttered in a brothel), 'Don't look Watson, the queen wouldn't like it'...

Qasr

I already posted about the qasr (fortified granary) at Nalut, but that is not the only example to be found dotted about the landscape around Tripoli. The Lonely Planet lauds the Qasr Al Haj as the one to see, but we haven't been there yet (lazy, much? We'll get there eventually). These photos come from one about an hour or so closer to Tripoli. It's different from other granaries in that the caravans can drive right in because it's a huge circular fortification at the top of a hill. It's been rather clumsily restored in parts with copious application of concrete, and sections of it are unfortunately reduced to rubbish tip and toilet, but in general it's an interesting sight (and site).

The first photo is trying to show the scale of it, from one side to the other.



And then this next one is an example of the stark but grand landscape surrounding it, for context.








Here's a close-up of the smaller ones.












And a look at the larger ones, at the 'head' of the circle ie opposite the entrance (the other photos have been of one side of it.






And finally inside the larger ones so you can see the multiple levels. Remember, as I said with Nalut, an entire tribe would have stored their grain here, and the keeper would have had to memorise where each family's store was and what was in it. It would once have been roofed with the same domed construction as you saw in the earlier photos.


Weather has been unpredictable; poor Ambassador, every time he cleans the pool, a dusty wind kicks up and dirties in again. Reading We've got to talk about Kevin. Watching House, since we recently discovered we get three more channels than we thought we did (and yet only one more thing worth watching...).

Provence

Paris, first weekend: Moulin Rouge, Louvre (pictured: the Three Graces, another example of which is in the Tripoli museum), Eiffel Tower at night. Paris, second weekend: a run of fantastic meals including a tasting menu that beat Perth's Jackson's if only because every single course was better than the one before even when you thought it couldn't possibly get better than this.

In between: hiking in Provence. I started off by making a rod, or more literally a 10kg brick, for my own back by buying the Ambassador a giant book of maps in Paris and then carting it with me to Provence...this made the 6km walk from the L'Isle sur la Sorgue train station to my guesthouse near Valleron a lot harder than it needed to be. The meal I had at the guesthouse that night, by the way, was so good I had to call the Ambassador at the end of it just to tell someone about it.

The next day I discovered this aqueduct on my hike (not the famous one near Avignon) and then stumbled into the exceedingly touristy town of Fontaine de Vaucluse which had an old ruined chateau perched on the rockface overlooking the peons below...I particularly like this photo because the rock looks like a fossilised castle itself.


The morning of my second day's hiking started well as Provence unrolled itself and demonstrated why every man and his dog wants to move here and spend their retirement doing up an old stone cottage with no modern amenities...

The afternoon did not go so well as I got my planned lunch stop so late the sole restaurant in town was closed for the mid-afternoon lull and I then had to hike four hours across country back to my guesthouse with no food or water, navigating by the sun as my map failed me halfway home. I was pretty impressed with myself when I popped out on the very road my guesthouse was located on, which meant I had managed to walk in a more or less straight line for some 5km with no other guidance but the setting sun. Less impressed when it turned out the guesthouse restaurant was shut that night too...

Knitting a Doctor Who scarf, and that'll be about it for the next few months, given how stupidly long the Doctor Who scarf is and how slowly I knit...Reading, aptly, Paris: the secret history. Watching Scrubs Season 5, not as good as it used to be.

The circus...

...is in town. And that's pretty darn amazing for this place.

Security at the Corinthia

Short and early post this week as I'm off to Paris tomorrow, yeah, it's a tough life, I know. No photos for this entry, the reason for which will become apparent.

Last week, Mr G met with the Egyptian president in the Corinthia Hotel. Either the Corinthia staff neglected to inform Blue Sun (based in the Corinthia's business centre next to the hotel) or they themselves were taken by surprise when a bunch of security people showed up and turfed everyone out of the hotel. The first the Ambassador knew about it was when he arrived at work and was not allowed to drive into the business centre carpark. No one was allowed to park anywhere within the complex for the day, and when the Ambassador left the office for lunch, it took some fast talking to be allowed back in (remember, his offices are based next to the hotel, not in it; they don't even share a common entrance).

One Blue Sunner snapped a photo of Mr G from his office window using his mobile phone. It turns out Mr G doesn't like candid photos; a security officer showed up a few minutes later and confiscated the phone. It's the second phone he's lost to officials here, the first being pinched by a police officer when he wouldn't hand over cash to pay a 'fine'.

Unrelated note: one of the pleasures of living here is how things you take for granted at home can just make your day here. My day was made today by: finding fresh mushroom and a decent brand of peanut butter, the appearance of my second cherry tomato seedling while the first one is thriving, and the opening of our first (so far, only) rose of the season; whatever the variety is, it's got the best scent I've ever encountered in a rose.

The weather, after a few weeks of random windy, overcast and/or humid days, has turned clear and hot, and I've taken my first swim of summer. Reading, and very much enjoying, The True History of the Kelly Gang. Watching 24, finally we're up the last few episodes of the season, which has felt very long and stupid. Knitting nothing at the moment.

No post next week.

Gharyan II, Take II

Tsk, tsk, Cafe Marcus, I plug you on my blog and the next time the Ambassador goes there, you can't do lattes, fresh fruit smoothies, or some of your paninis...end of the week supply problems, I see...


Anyway, on to what I tried to post last week, about the other major attraction up in Gharyan, the Berber underground houses, also known as troglodyte houses. These photos are of one up on the escarpment, which has been repaired, refurbished and decorated in traditional fashion. It's about two hundred years old according to a sign on the way in (the rest of the signs are in Arabic). It was, of course, created mostly as defense against the heat. This first photo is taken standing at the top looking down into the courtyard.


The first time I came here, I was finding my way by following signs, which petered out halfway through. I pulled over at some ruined ones (most have been abandoned now for modern homes), thinking they were what the signs referred to, only to have an old man come wandering down the road to beckon us on up to the end of the road, where he also had a young boy serve us tea in traditional Arabic fashion. The pit in the middle was for drainage; since this photo was taken, it's been covered up with decking and more tables and chairs have been arranged on it. It is a stop-off for tourists - we saw a busload arriving as we were leaving after our tea (it also has shiny, clean modern toilets).


You reach the courtyard level via a tunnel reminscent of Ghadames. This photo shows what one guide told the Ambassador is an escape tunnel, which leads to neighbouring underground houses should the occupants of this one fall under attack or otherwise need to visit without coming up to ground level. It would have been reached via a ladder arrangement.





Each arched doorway leads to living spaces, which appear to be combined living, dining and sleeping rooms - the sleeping area is the raised area at the back, with the cloth hanging up to act as screens when necessary. The kitchens/cooking fires were in separate, much smaller cubbyhole rooms; this house had two. I imagine each sub-unit of a larger kin-family had a room each, though I'm not entirely sure of that.



This house also has traditional handicrafts displayed, such as this loom. Since this visit, they've added the ultra-traditional sale of tourist t-shirts to their display...


The underground houses are of course not limited to Libya and most of you will recognise their general layout from Star Wars (filmed in Tunisia).


One interesting story the guide also told the Ambassador is that each Berber family is responsible for olive tree(s) and the health of the trees is directly related to the health of the tribe...apparantly this is a tradition dating back to when the olives trees were planted by the Italians - no, not the ones here last century, but the Roman ones from a couple of thousand years ago. This caused some scepticism, but it turns out olive trees really can live that long.

Knitting: a scarf in lovely Jo Sharp yarn. Reading: The Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai. Watching: Control Room, a documentary. Spacing a bit funky this week, not sure what's going on there...