Why not take the train from Vienna to Erbil/ Iraq? This idea popped into my mind late winter 2021. Around Easster 2022 I set off -the journey took me from Vienna via Hungary, Romania, Bulgaria to south-eastern Turkey, where the tracks end.
In northern Iraq I stopped in Duhok, from where I organised my trip to Lalish, the Yazidi holy site and via ancient Acre to Erbil. The capital of northern Iraq became my base for exploring the city itself and places neaby, like Rwanduz Canyon and Shaqlawa, popular resort towns for Iraqi.
Erbil’s epicenter – the big plaza at the buttom of the citadel is surrounded by the bazar
If I ever lived up to the proverb “The journey is the reward” it was this trip, a neverending emotional rollercoaster. In Turkey I stopped in Istanbul, Kayseri/ Cappadocia and Diyarbakir, my absolute high-light in Turkey. This is where the railroads end and I continued by bus to the ancient city of Mardin, hard on the Syrian border.
Mardin- another ancient city, hard on the Syrian border
The road from Mardin to the Iraqi border follows the Syrian border for a long time. The land here is super flat and you can see far into the other side. Often it doesn’t look like a border at all, once in a while you see a fence, sometimes a bit of a wall or an occasional turret sitting on a small hill. In Cicre, a city along the way, it felt the city is literally divided between the two countries. I started to understand how millions of Syrians crossed this border 10 years ago.
The road from Mardin to the Iraqi border crossing follows the Syrian border for hours
I was the only woman on the bus, until a German couple got on, who had biked from Germany to Turkey and where only 1/3 into their trip. The young woman was sick that day, so they took the bus for a couple of hours and I had company for a little while.
Bikini from Germany to India- that day the couple took a bus since the girl was sick
Iraqi border crossing – drama with happy ending in dusty Douhuk
I don’t cry easily but my tears just wouldn’t stop. Two hundred Turkish/Iraqi men were watching, the only woman in the whole place standing in a corner trying to control her sobbing. I was 10€ short of cash and not able to pay the 70€ for the Iraqi visa. The option to go back to Turkey, miles away, across a strip of no-mans-land, was painful. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, a man approached me and pointed at 5 young men and said in English, “These 5 young Kurdish men paid the difference of 10€.” This made me cry even more.
How did I end it in such misery? I did not want to carry more Turkish money with me than needed as it devalues by the minute. My Euros I had long spent on a balloon ride in Cappadocia, with this crazy inflation the operators ask for hard currency. Credit cards were no option, no ATM.
Ibrahim Khalil – 5 guys came to my rescue and paid the 10€ I was short to pay for the visa
Now I was in the country, but literally penniless, during the two-hour bus ride to Duhok I worried where to get money. The Turkish bus driver kept saying “Family Mall-Dohouk”. I did not have a sim-card yet for Iraq, no Internet and had no clue where this mall was, how far from the city center, where I hoped to find a hotel that accepted credit cards. Spoiler: they did not. The whole time I was thinking what I could sell, my earrings came to my mind first. Entering Duhuk, I took the chance, got off the bus at Family Mall, found the ATM and breathlessly inserted my card, I think I was even praying. Seconds later I was the happiest woman in Dohouk, holding $100 in my hands. A taxi dropped me off a Kristal Hotel and once I bought a sim-card, I felt human again.
My hotel in Douhuk
Walking around this city drowning in traffic, even during Ramadan, was rather frustrating. There was really nothing to do, most shops and restaurants were closed. During Ramadan things come to life at night, when restaurants are packed with family for Iftar. Otherwise, there was no place to go, no bar, nothing.
*I travelled to Duhok two years later with Iraqi friends and my impressions of the city changed completely, and yes are are bars.
Faded Zebra crossing – perfect symbol for the status of pedestrian, nothing for the faint-hearted
I travelled during Ramadan and was always able to find something to eat.
One night I got so itchy from staying along in in my hotel room that I went down to the lobby, to find two elderly men dressed in very elegant suit. I was asked to join for tea and tiny sealed plastic cubes with water were handed to me constantly. One of them scrambled for words in English and I was feeling so much better. Only looking the photo afterwards, I realized that I was I my pajamas and they guys in an elegant suit. The windows of my room were directed towards the road and I got a feeling of how busy a town in Iraq can be during Ramadan all night.
Entertainment in hotel lobby during the night – Ramadan turns night into days
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