I’d been trying to get a visa to Libya for a couple years before I was finally able to get one in December 2024 with the help of Abubaker at Wadi Smalos Tourism Services. The plan had been to do a 6-day tour around the northwestern parts of the country. Three of the days were to be dedicated to visiting Tripoli, Leptis Magna and Sabratha which are all up along the northern coast, two of the remaining three days were allocated to the long drive to and from the desert city of Ghadames (circled in green on the map), and one day was to be spent exploring the old city of Ghadames. Well, as it turns out, less than a week before I was due to fly into the country I got a text one evening from Abubaker saying that earlier in the day he’d been traveling with one of his tour groups down to Ghadames and was stopped by the authorities and informed that there’s some kind of security situation along the border with Algeria and that no foreigners are gonna be allowed down there for the foreseeable future. He offered me the options of either a full refund to cancel the tour or the option to cut it in half. I was kinda bummed about missing out on Ghadames which was supposed to be the highlight of the tour, but since I was already in Morocco at this point and had been lucky enough to get a visa approved after a couple years of failed attempts, I said let’s just go ahead with the 3-day tour.
Abubaker said that the most popular flight route that his clients use to get in and out of the country is from the city of Tunis in neighboring Tunisia on a local airline called Libyan Wings. So, after finishing my hike in Morocco, I flew from Marrakech to Tunis where I spent a couple days relaxing and eating. Here’s one of many interesting doors I saw while wandering around the medina of Tunis.
Tripoli
Libya had been a colony of Italy from 1911 until 1943 and around Tripoli’s city center there’re a lot of buildings left over from that time period
I read two books before going to Libya. I read Sandstorm by Lindsey Hilsum which was a historical account mostly focused on the reign of Muammar Gaddafi from 1969 until 2011, and I read In the Country of Men by Hisham Matar which was a fictionalized account of a family living under said reign. The former I found quite informative – it’s good to know some of the recent history in a country like Libya because it can help put the current situation in context – and the latter was kind of a dud that, although I’m certain it’s a pretty accurate portrayal of the way life’d been there and whatever, I just didn’t like the characters and couldn’t really get into it. Anyway, this mural down the block from Hotel Cleopatra (my home for the two nights I spent in Tripoli) shows an anti-Gaddafi rebel fighter holding up the flag of the monarchy that’d been used from 1951 until 1969. Towards the end of Gaddafi’s rule, the flag came to be a symbol of the resistance and was reinstated as the national flag after the conclusion of the 2011 civil war.
Here’s a photo of a traffic policeman (behind the taxi, on the right) trying to keep things orderly on the jam-packed streets of Tripoli. My guide explained that there’s basically no public transportation system in Libya. He said that pretty much everybody has their own car and, since Libya’s got so much oil, that gas prices are about 12 cents per gallon. I saw a car with Illinois license plates and asked my guide if a lot of these cars are imported from the US. Yes, he said. South Korea and the US are from where they import the majority of these vehicles that clog up every street and make parking in Tripoli practically impossible.
Martyr’s Square (formally known as Green Square under Gaddafi, Independence Square under the monarchy and Piazza Italia under the Italians during their colonial rule here) was closed off due to all the renovations they were trying to pack in before their annual celebration of Revolution Day on February 17, the date that marks the 2011 popular overthrow of Colonel Gaddafi
Walking through the old city with my guide (on the right) and my government minder from the tourism police (on the left). It remains unclear to me if the tourism police guy was there for my safety or to make sure that I wasn’t causing any problems or meddling in anything I shouldn’t be, but he had to be with me at all times outside of the hotel. He didn’t speak any English, but was a nice enough guy. The two nights I spent in Tripoli, the guide went home to be with his family and both nights I ended up taking a walk with the security guy to pick up dinner. My Arabic is shit, so aside from telling him what I want to eat and asking if he’s married and has kids, the only thing we’d say to each other was “mia mia” – either as a question or as a statement – which translates to “100%” and was our way of asking and confirming if everything was okay.
The Karamanly House was originally built in the 18th century, but restored in 1994. It was also known as the “Harem House” because, I was told, Yusuf Karamanly had children with something like ten wives that all lived together in this place
Bunch of support beams that are doing their best to keep these buildings in the old city from falling apart
Shelves in a vintage souvenir shop in the old city from where I got…
…these Gaddafi bucks. On the 1 he’s depicted as a young man, then alongside other African leaders on the 20 dinar note, and there he is in his plastic-surgery-havin later days on the 50. According to that book I mentioned earlier, Sandstorm, although he was obviously the unquestioned dictator of a country he ruled with an iron fist for over 40 years, Gaddafi never officially assumed any specific government position. He insisted the Libyan people were the true rulers of the country and considered himself nothing more than the “Brotherly Leader and Guide of the Revolution.” As such – and this isn’t a direct quote, just trying to sum up how the man was presented in Sandstorm – he’d say stuff in response to international criticism like, “I agree. I also don’t think there should be torture and executions in Libya, but it’s what the people want, so there’s not much I can do to stop it.”
After I bought those Gaddafi bucks, we stepped out into the street where my guide and the owner of the shop had a little chat. Every now and then my guide would turn and tell me what the guy was saying. Apparently, even though it’s rich in cultural history, very much unlike the medinas in Tunis and Marrakech that have luxury hotels built into their old historic buildings, Tripoli’s old city is very poor. There are massive holes in the ceilings that let rain in and everything is falling apart. These places are often lived in by immigrants from Niger, Chad and Sudan that have come here seeking work. That said, the shop owner said he expects things to change drastically in the near future (big investments, renovation projects) as Libya continues to open up to the world as a tourist destination.
One of the most interesting places in the old city had been the black market, and this photo was taken just outside it. As we were walking through, my guide said I could not take any photos because he’d had problems in the past with some of the locals there that’d gotten really aggressive when they saw some foreigner documenting their illicit money-changing activities. That said, what I’d like you to pay attention to here in the photo are those blue wheelbarrows. In the market, where all the exchanges were taking place, there were guys walking around with fistfuls of thousands of US dollars. I’d never seen so much money in public in all my life. I was quite surprised that no one was afraid of someone robbing them. I guess that sort of crime doesn’t happen there. But anyway, after these guys would exchange – god, I dunno…twenty, thirty, fifty, a hundred thousand USD for local currency – they couldn’t carry it on their own, so they’d call over one of these sub-Saharan wheelbarrow guys to help them out. Into the barrows they’d stack big bricks of money wrapped in black plastic bags that they’d then wheel over to the cars of the guys who just made the transaction.
Souvenir stall near the black market
The arch of Marcus Aurelius, erected in the second century AD
I don’t know what type of tree this is, but there were a handful of them in the area we were walking through and I liked ‘em a lot
What’s now the Algeria Square Mosque had once been the Tripoli Cathedral. It was built in 1928 during the Italian Libya colonial period and was changed to a mosque by the staunchly anti-imperialist Gaddafi in the early 1970s
There he is – my guide Adbul as we ate a late couscous and chicken lunch after having explored the old city. Abdul did not talk a whole lot. I didn’t learn much about him and he didn’t learn much about me. Unlike other guides I’ve had in the past whom I felt quite close to after doing a tour together (my guide Akel in Syria, for example), I probably will not keep in touch with Abdul.
A bootleg Samsung TV in the restaurant at Hotel Cleopatra
Leptis Magna
I wasn’t aware that I was going to have separate guides at Leptis Magna and Sabratha, so it was kind of a surprise to me when we got to the gates of this place and Abdul said, “Alright, you and Hassan (the police guy) go with that guide. See ya later.” But this guy here, Mahmoud, was pretty cool. I liked him. Here he is holding up a book he published on the site called Leptis Magna: The Ancient City Brought to Life. The book had lots of drawings of what the ancient city supposedly used to look like and when we got to each of the ruins, he’d hold up the book to show me while explaining how different things used to function. He spoke perfect English and was super knowledgeable and I’d definitely recommend him as a guide to this site. My favorite thing he said during this tour, however, had nothing to do with the ruins or the Punic people or the ancient Romans or any of that. At one point he asked me where I’m from. And after I said Chicago, he told me that back in the eighties he studied to become a chemist at some university in Vancouver and while he was there he became a big fan of American football. The Bears were his favorite team, he said. “Yes, they had Jim McMahon and Walter Payton and that big guy they called The Refrigerator.” Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d meet somebody in Libya who’d know the starting lineup of the Superbowl Shufflin’ ’85 Bears.
Arch of Septimius Severus, built in the early 3rd century and restored by Italian archaeologists in 1928
Odd pieces at the site that archaeologists have not (yet) put back together
Medusa head
Column made of cipollino marble. I think cipollino means “onion-like” in Latin or Italian and this marble was named as such because the different colored layers of marble reminded people of the inside of an onion
Most of the columns that are well-preserved had been underground for a very long time before being unearthed by archaeologists. Weathered ones like this, however, have been standing there as they were, exposed to all the elements, since they were put up around 2000 years ago.
Latrines where ancient rich dudes used to take their dumpskies. Water for post-poop cleaning used to flow through the little gutter in front of the latrines and down below, explained Mahmoud, all the human waste would be washed away to the sea by the used-up dirty water they drained from the nearby bathhouses.
Some bros I met at the Leptis Magna theater who all spoke good English and told me they’d learned it from talking shit while playing video games online. They asked me what parts of the country I was going to visit while I was there and I told them. They were surprised I wasn’t going to visit the eastern part of the country, which they said is very beautiful. I said I wasn’t allowed to because I don’t have a visa from the government that runs the eastern part of the country (yes, the power struggle following the fall of Gaddafi in 2011 led to two rival governments ruling different parts of the country), only permission from the west. They asked if I like beaches. I said I don’t because I get sunburnt too easily, but I did appreciate how clear and pristine the water off the Libyan coast appears to be. I asked if they like beaches. They said they do, but that it’s not warm enough for their liking this time of year. I asked them about the Revolution Day celebrations coming up on the 17th of February. “Eh, it’s boring,” they said. “It’s the same party every year.” I suggested they should start a new revolution and overthrow the government during one of the summer months so that the annual celebrations could be a beach party.
This largely reconstructed amphitheater could hold about 16,000 gore-loving spectators. While we were walking down there in the arena, Mahmoud – doing his best Russell Crowe impression – raised his arms and belted out, “Are you not entertained!?”
Late-afternoon lunch after finishing up the tour around Leptis. The guy on the right is Hassan, the security guy, and the guy on the left…I have no idea. He didn’t speak English and wasn’t introduced to me by Abdul, but was with us for all three days of the tour. At one point I asked Hassan, “Min hu-way?” Like, “Who is he?” And Hassan said, “Hu-way wa Abdul, nefs al sharika.” “Him and Abdul work for the same company.” I dunno…I thought it was fuckin weird that this guy is just there on this tour that I paid for and his presence isn’t explained to me.
This day’s lunch was a dish called rishda with chicken
Truck outside the restaurant from the previous two photos. Guy musta been a big fan of Saddam. I should probably get one of those stickers for my truck in Chicago
Sabratha
The deal at Sabratha was the same as at Leptis Magna – Abdul just dropped off me and Hassan the security guy and left us with the local guide in the photo. This dude – it’s only been a week and I already forgot his name…he was okay, I guess. He’s very knowledgeable about the site. And he speaks good English. He’s a good guide in those respects. But at the same time, I didn’t feel like he and I were having a conversation the way I did with Mahmoud at Leptis Magna. There wasn’t much give and take. I kinda felt like I couldn’t ask a question without feeling like I was interrupting his monologue. It felt like he was throwing obscure and not-so-interesting information at me nonstop for the three hours we were there and didn’t give me the opportunity to just sit down and enjoy the scenery for five minutes straight. And he’d even tell me exactly where I should take every one of my photos from and would correct me if I was holding my camera (phone) in a way that would result in my shadow being in the shot. It was a bit much for me, I felt overwhelmed.
Here at the Mausoleum of Bes, a group of army officials came up and started talking to my guide. They paid no attention to me whatsoever. The guide turned to me and told me to stand in front of the mausoleum to pose for a photo with one of these guys. I did as I was told. One of the guys came over and stood next to me, not even acknowledging me, and one of the other guys took the photo. As soon as it was done, the guy walked away from me and back to the group and they all left as soon as they came.
The guide told me I should take a photo of this bird carving. I told him I’d take a picture of it with my mind. He said mind pictures are no good and that since I’m here I need to take a real photo of it so I don’t regret it later. So…there ya go.
Here the guide told me where to stand to get a photo of this mosaic floor that’d been reconstructed by archaeologists without my shadow being in it. While he watched me closely I did exactly as I was told, but then the second he turned his back I snapped this photo with my shadow in it just to spite him.
A cool sky full of hazy clouds over the deep blue of the Mediterranean
Unlike the amphitheater in Leptis Magna which’d been reconstructed by archaeologists, the one here at Sabratha for the most part lays in ruins
While recording the album that would eventually become Let It Be, the Beatles were planning on doing some kind of special TV performance but the venue was undecided. While in reality their final gig ended up being the rooftop concert they did at Apple Corps Headquarters, this here 2nd-century theater at Sabratha was one of the venue options the band had been considering before the whole TV special idea was eventually kicked to the curb.
Entering the theater
Woulda been a pretty kick-ass place for a Beatles concert
