The Roman and Greek ruins running along the coast from Tunisia to Egypt are among the best in the world, writes RENAGH HOLOHAN
IF THERE IS any one thing that will upset the majority of holidaymakers on a cruise it is undoubtedly the absence of alcohol. And that is exactly what occurred on a trip I took last November. The ship then ran out of tonic. But that’s another story, so let me start at the beginning.
Hardly anyone goes to Libya. So when we spotted a small ship cruise around North Africa that called to several Libyan ports, curiosity took hold and off we went.
Libya is different to other destinations; for a start, it isn’t really a holiday place. Independent travel is not allowed. If you have a US or Israeli passport, they won’t let you in. Those with Israeli stamps are also barred. A fellow passenger, a Scot, who didn’t fall into any such category, was not allowed disembark anywhere by the authorities who came aboard at each port. No explanation was given but, whatever it was, it didn’t apply to his wife, who set off merrily each morning.
There are hotels but, despite miles of beautiful, if neglected and often rubbish-strewn coastline. There are few resorts and little in the way of beach comforts. This is heaven for those who like an authentic underdeveloped experience, away from high-rise package hell.
There are no beggars, an unexpected blessing in a relatively poor country, and few people speak English. Even in the medina no one tries to pull you into their shop or even attempts to sell you anything. A tourist can wander round happily and safely. In fact, we were almost unnoticed, which is nice.
So what brings tourists to Libya? Archaeology is the answer. The string of Roman and Greek ruins running along the coast from Tunisia to Egypt are among the best in the world. They are magnificent and awe inspiring and unlike everywhere else they are highly accessible and relatively deserted. Whether it is a good thing or not, one can walk over mosaic floors and climb into huge Roman baths and pose with statutes and feel the workmanship on ancient pillars.
Many of the sites are only partially excavated. Italian archaeologists and historians did huge work in the first half of the last century; it was their ancestors, after all, who built these magnificent cities. But since their expulsion, excavation has been sporadic.
We went on board the Island Skyin Malta and woke up in Tripoli. A masked doctor was among the local officials who embarked as soon as we tied up. Swine flu was a big issue in Libya at the time, so all 100 passengers had their temperatures tested by laser and once we had all passed and our passports were examined we disembarked, minus the disappointed and forlorn Scot.
It was like stepping back into a different world, with modern buildings but little traffic. Our three-bus convoy, complete with Libyan guide and minder, sped west along the coast to our first stop, the Roman city of Sabratha. And each of the five days followed a similar pattern. We sailed eastwards through the night and visited sites by day.
The most outstanding ruins are at Leptis Magna, a huge, almost deserted coastal city built by locally-born emperor Septimius Severus in the second century AD, but partially buried in sand until the 20th century. With its 16,000-seater amphitheatre, beautiful location and the huge scale of the monuments, this ancient city is considered among the most impressive in the entire ancient Roman world.
Another reason that brings people to Libya, unless it’s to explore the vast desert and its oases that lie behind the coastal strip, are the war graves. Rommel and the Allies fought up and down this coastline before the German defeat at El Alamein over the border in Egypt. Being with an almost exclusively British group, we were brought to the British war cemeteries in Tripoli and Benghazi.
The rows of headstones bearing the names of young men are beautifully tended by agents of the British War Graves Commission. At the gates we were handed roses. We placed ours where we found Irish names.
Rommel lost the war in North Africa mainly because he ran oil supplies. Little did he know he was sitting on a mountain of it. This vast country, three times the size of France but with only six million people, was liberated in 1942 and has been controlled along socialist lines by Col Muammar Gadafy since 1969. His image is everywhere but UN sanctions (introduced after the Lockerbie bombing) have been lifted and the country is gradually modernising.
Our last stop in Libya was Cyrene, where Simon, compelled by the Romans to carry Jesus’s cross, came from. As we sailed towards Egypt, the Red Sea, and finally Jordan, our heads, well, mine at least, full of Roman ruins, the jolly German captain held a champagne party, and was joined by his very eager passengers.
Did I mention that Libya is dry? Not a drop of alcohol is to be had anywhere. Before we docked in Tripoli the crew emptied all the mini bars and the first thing the Libyan authorities did when they came on board was seal up all alcohol stores. Their stamped seals could be seen across several cabinets around the ship.
We had been warned in Malta. This, I think, led to certain precautionary measures being taken and a few trips ashore before we sailed. It could also account for the fact that the ship’s bar ran out of tonic long before we reached Egypt.