Out of Zlitern Hotel, down the four floors two flights of steps and only slightly out of breath. How the guides etc know that the lift will be out of order and not get repaired beats me. Packed on the coach we are heading back to Leptis but before we hit the main sites we detour to see the amphitheatre, circus and port.
Seating for 16,000 people the amphitheatre is just as Russell Crow left it! The stone block seating is almost intact. The main arena still has some rubble but the hidden traps are evident. Around the sides are the holes and entrances for the criminals and wild animals. To enter the arena we traverse across the sand and almost come in on the top level. Mohammed leads us round the edge to the far side where laid out between the amphitheatre and the sea is the circus when the horse and chariot races took place. Seven laps charging round with crowds in the stands yelling them on. At one end are the huge open arches still in ruins.
Then the rain starts slowly, then building up. Of the 22 only six wish to remain out and see the detail whilst the rest traipse back to the coach. They can only have been on the coach five minutes and the rain stops, but we are now deep into the main amphitheatre heading down through the black alleys and tunnels of the arena proper. Here turning 360o the combatants in the arena will see the massed crowd and even with half a dozen people in this basin the noise echoes, so it must have been deafening let alone threatening.
Through a triumphant arch we can see the larger cages where beasts and prisoners were kept. This arch is easily 100ft high and through it leads into the circus arena. The back of the arena adjacent to the amphitheatre has signs of the stepped seating but the seaward side is literally one continual long sand dune with the sea directly pounding into it. The sea is slowly recovering the dune and any major stones. All the stones in Leptis are limestone with a smattering of sand stone where the Italians quarried out to complete the renovation. Their little railway is still evident.
The portico colonnade sweeps around the port which is now full of shrub, sand and odd patches of marsh reeds. This does not dilute the impact of this vista with its warehouses set back from the dock.
Along the dock just at the expected water line are solid stones built into the deck with large 15” diameter holes for the hawsers to attach. The galleys and ships would be attached end on and therefore I cannot quite imagine how loading was completed. In the corner of the docks was a huge cistern with water for their voyages. The lighthouses at either end of each of the docks act as beacons and control In & Out traffic much like a narrow road with a single file traffic control system during road works.
Back into the main site and at Leptis where we must be again, one of the first coaches and we are left to our own devices. Walking along the ducus maximus heading to the hunting baths I meet two shoppers looking for a good toga and some herbs, Pamela and Julia are the spinsters on the journey and have lightened the tour from the dour intellectuals. Here they are in the spirit of Leptis and as we cross we banter with Roman quips and enquire after the whereabouts are the hunting baths. As I spy the baths half buried in the sand the first spots of rain are felt again.
The baths are slightly different with domes on all the baths giving them a distinct Islamic feature.
Beyond them are the thick dunes with gorse and acacia but sticking upright almost phallic like are two columns with no more than a couple of metres visible. They are a complete oddity.
The sky has darkened and the rain beats heavily beginning to create small rivulets across the scrubby floor. Still beating hard I am sheltered in a small rough built shepherds hut protecting me from both sides and the sky. Eventually I will need to leave this refuge and get back by 1.30 but at 1.10 it’s still pouring with no visible let up. Out at sea can be seen the lightening whilst above the distant thunder chips in.
My noble refuge is a piece of rusting corrugated iron about 3-foot square. Where one side has been washed clean the other side on picking up reveals small white lizards, scorpions and spiders.
Getting this back to my refuge the Ray Mears plan comes into place with the dirty side of the corrugated sheet placed to the rain to wash through. A few shakes and the remaining spiders fall away and with a few more moves the sheet has taken on a new shape folded in the middle with the corrugation acting as rain runs off.
The rain still pours hard and the streets are awash with the sandy rain which cannot run off as the sewers are sandy and full. The crew are a little amused to see me walking back into the covered lean-too where lunch is set. I am completely dry; which is not the case of the rest who are wet through.
From lunch we are back on the coach and heading to Villa Silin. This was discovered in 1974 under the sand and is almost in perfect condition with mosaics and frescoes in amazing order.
Each mosaic is in detail showing shading and movement. Where the mosaics are open to the elements the rain and wind seems to have cleansed them. The current rain we have emphasises the colours of the pieces and the imagery. Inside the floor mosaics and frescoes are well protected. Mohamed is desperately attempting to shepherd us in order around but like Leptis its like herding cats. Stragglers taking photo’s and those excited moving ahead of the groups.
The group are still drying out and parts of the coach resemble a laundry room with clothing drying and hanging on any point.
Arriving at the Bab Africa, President Chirac from France is there to meet us. There are policemen, troops and bodyguards outside and inside loitering around reception.
No one gets a chance to see him as he is whisked away.
That evening Mohammed and Dar Sahara treat us to a beautiful meal in Mohammed’s favourite restaurant in Tripoli. The standard fare of bread soup, salad from a help yourself buffet, followed by meat, rice and chips is offered.
The soft drink is nuclear orange and against the gold’s and browns in our upstairs private dining room it stands out like a sore thumb.
Completing our meal, the only other single traveller – John and I decide to walk back to the hotel. Sheila and her husband go in the other direction towards Sept 1st street.
We head off towards the Medina crossing the green square darting between the six lanes of traffic. Although the drivers are not mad and travelling too fast it’s a little frenetic. Heading into the Medina we have a fair idea of the direction and start off down one of the main alleys until we come out at the back of the red fort by the tourist café.
Moving deeper into the Medina we come across unlit alleys that narrow to a pedestrian only access. Here we are in the poorer part as evident by the numbers of people and what they are, a mix of Sudanese, Ethiopian and other North African countries. I can imagine that this can be quite intimidating and I wouldn’t relish walking through late on my own. The bustle is greater at one of the gates with cars and small mini buses attempting to get through while we exit.
The hotel like a beacon shines across the poverty of this part of the city. Standing 26 floors is one tower and slightly less is the second tower it dwarfs everything in its size and opulence.
Finishing off the day with green mint tea the weary travellers succumb to their beds.