Kurdistan

Article by: Tony Wheeler, February 2007

I like countries that dispense with those tricky rules and regulations that can take all the fun out of visiting obscure places.

'The Turks don't want to encourage their Kurdish population so they get very unhappy when anybody talks about visiting Kurdistan,' she continued. 'Always say you're going to Iraq.'

Oh great, I thought. There's a country we're all keen to visit. But there was not a moment's hesitation when I jumped in a beat-up old Renault taxi at Diyarbakir Airport in eastern Turkey and said, 'Take me to Iraq.'

I like countries that dispense with those tricky rules and regulations that can take all the fun out of visiting obscure places. The US isn't keen on having visitors see how badly their 'War of Terror' is getting on, so obtaining an Iraq visa is not easy. Big deal: turn up at the Kurdistan border and they not only stamp you in, they give you a couple of gun-toting Peshmerga soldiers to pose with below the 'Welcome to Iraq' sign. The 25km line of trucks queuing up to get across the border didn't feature any wheat-filled trucks from the Australian Wheat Board; perhaps they hadn't paid their bribes.

I kicked around Kurdistan for a week. Great fruit juice stalls in Dohuk, an amazing old bridge in Zakho, the mountain resort town of Amadiya, an interesting museum (untrashed after the coalition invasion) at Sulaymaniyah and, best of all, the Kurdish capital of Arbil. The modern town clusters around the impressive citadel, topping a hill which pops up like a pimple in the centre of the urban area. Outside the citadel are restaurants, cafes and a confusing market while inside the citadel (fronted by an impressively large seated statue of a 13th-century Kurdish dignitary - kids like to sit on his lap) was the most surprising find of my Kurdistan visit.

I'd gone in search of a cluster of old Kurdish mansions. Unfortunately Saddam had comprehensively trashed them when he descended on Arbil after the Kuwait Gulf War, bent on revenge. Never mind; next to the ruins was the new Kurdish Textile Museum, with a terrific collection of rugs, weavings and baby carriers, but no tourist crowds. They're something Iraq does not have in any great numbers.

I signed my name in the guest book and within minutes Lolan Mustefa, the museum's creator, came bounding over. 'Lonely Planet, you're from Lonely Planet? We've been waiting for a Lonely Planet writer to turn up.'

Well, yes; and as soon as I've sorted this silly civil war out we'll do our Iraq guidebook.