I would love to have slept through to our required alarm call but at 5.30 in the morning the fire alarm goes off for a minute or so. It was probably seconds. I leapt out of bed landing into the hotel slippers through my pyjama trousers like a Wallace & Grommet cartoon. Nobody is moving in the corridor and the alarms have ceased so I return to bed.
Breakfast and a two hour coach trip are our first event of the day – arriving at Sabratha.
The museum officials are certainly official and on explanation from Mohammed reveals that an artefact was stolen recently from the museum. This has led to the closure of the museum, severe embarrassment to the curator no doubt and an understanding why they are so tetchy.
As museums go it is better than Leptis and the exhibits are clear to see. Hundreds of oil lamps, pottery and ampere with bits of jewellery are thrown into the second division where we see the mosaics of the forum.
Here they have recreated the floor with near perfect accuracy with the colours showing along the edge of the portico. The centre mosaic is almost perfect with few imperfections. The scenes of birds some caged and some free are splendid with the sheer brightness of the colours.
The mosaics fixed along each side of the great room represent those that would have run along side the main mosaic under the porticos. The indents of where the colours would have been are marked with some filled marble.
Out in the sun we head off enmass towards the Punic part of the city, built and developed by the Phoenicians. Settling only along the coast they built the coastal town with a few others all listed from Alexandria to Carthage. These houses each have their own cisterns as water was in short supply and rain water captured from the roof was stored in each house. Noticeably the site retains mosaics still in place within some of the houses, baths and basilicas. Far less marble was evident and the reconstruction has been made in sand stone.
The heat is more intense than elsewhere and shade is in short supply. Attempting to stand in the shade of a column in the basilica I notice a cornical shadow that makes the column look almost pregnant. What shade can be grabbed is quickly filled with our tour party and poor Mohammed continues his explanation in the heat of the midday sun. It’s nearly 35o today.
Once we have had a much needed rest, shade and lunch its back to the theatre which is magnificent.
The three high floors with columns and access from the rear of the stage stress the scale and beauty of this Roman remain. So impressive and the remarkable condition, it’s used for public occasions. As early as 1958 when John ‘Cooling Accountant’ was here in the Army events and shows were held he witnessed a great tragedy enacted by locals and Italians whilst he sat back in the auditorium taking black and white photos. These he passed about the bus later in our journey.
The stage and its columns are beautiful and after Mohammed has given us a very concise view of the parts of the theatre we are free to move around at will. Pippa and Pamela head straight down to the coast and swim for a while in the sea whilst the remainder of us partake in photographic efforts and returning to the shade behind the theatre. My makeshift hanky covering my neck and part under my hat protects me for the rest of the day. I guess it’s the Roy Mears ‘sand hat’. Now we are of to the tombs, which were almost discovered by accident.
The tombs are buried in the sand and a lovely story is told by Mohammed where the curator of the museum and tombs was watering a palm tree. He left the water running and on his return the palm had disappeared and a 6 foot diameter hole had appeared with the palm tree at the base. The hole is evident.
The small square museum has a run of stairs leading down to an access alley to see the tombs and artefacts that were discovered in some of them. Lastly, four at a time, we are ushered into a small tomb in the exact condition when it was closed. The clear frescos make up the story of death passing into the shadows and then to the after life whence they are met by their families. All round are images of Medusa to protect over the tombs. That evening most of us elect to enjoy a restaurant out by the beach which Mohammed organises.
Sitting out on two tables we enjoy either fish or shish kebab and of course soup, salad and bread, after all we are in Libya and they are the rules. Acting as the banker that evening I muster the required 646 dinars which is about an inch and a half of notes. It’s our last evening and some elect to go into town. Too tired I retire after a tea with Pamela. She’s very sweet and I think both the Mohammed’s have taken to her.