Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Libya - the trip that wasn't

Fifteen years ago I took this picture during an assignment in Pyongyang. Why start a blog about Libya with a shot of Kim Il Sung’s statue? Well, I once knew a North Korean who had spent a couple of years in Libya. He was a bit vague, but I suspect it had something to do with the military. North Korea sold weaponry to Libya. Anyway, Mr. Lee didn’t like Libya very much. Perhaps it was the anguish of separation from the ‘Great Leader’ or maybe the North African kimchi wasn’t very good.

That a North Korean didn’t like Libya stuck in my mind and I always wanted to visit. After all, any place worse than North Korea must be fascinatingly awful.

Give or take a few hundred kilometres, I had been in the area before. In 1978, work took me to Tunisia and out into the Sahara. Not far, but far enough to make an impression. Below is picture of dawn in the desert.

Another picture showed me on a camel, clutching a tape recorder. I looked mildly apprehensive, one reason why I’m not going to burrow in my boxes to find the photo. Perhaps I’ll get it out in the unlikely event that I ever write a book.

It turned out that one Tunisian oasis town I stayed in was close to where part of the original Star Wars film had been shot a year or so before. Returning to London, I coincidentally attended the movie’s press preview and swapped stories with Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamil) about the Sahara, which had filled in for the planet of Tatooine. Luke gave me a signed photo – ‘Having a great time on the Death Star (wish you were here!)’

Here’s my photo of C-3PO (Anthony Daniels) and R2-D2 (Kenny Baker) in the desert.

Other than hoping to go deep into the Libyan Sahara, visit oases and ancient caravan towns, I also wanted spend time in some apparently wonderful Greek and Roman cities along the Mediterranean coast. And I wanted to get to Tobruk, site of one of World War Two’s major battles. In my luggage were flags, given by my Member of Parliament, for the Canadians who died there.

However, as you might by now have guessed, things didn’t go according to plan. First, pirates attacked my ship (see previous posting) and now the Libya trip has been called off. It happened this afternoon, about an hour before leaving for the airport.

My knapsack, sleeping bag and roller bag sit forlornly in the living room.

Last Thursday, Libya cancelled entry for Canadians. This seems to have followed a diplomatic spat over Colonel Gaddafi's sudden – and rather odd – decision to pitch his tent in Newfoundland.

Thanks to Wikipedia for this picture of the Colonel.

Last month, with three days' notice, it was announced that he wanted to stop off in St. John's on the flight home from speaking at the UN. Canada’s foreign minister then said that he would fly to Newfoundland to tell the Colonel of Ottawa's unhappiness with the hero’s reception in Tripoli for the Lockerbie bomber. Suddenly, the stopover in St. John's was called off with the Libyans refusing comment. Canadians wanting to visit Libya were likely blocked in retaliation, although I suspect that very few travel to Libya.

With days to go – and the Canadian Thanksgiving long weekend in the middle of all this – I fell back on my British passport. I tried to get another visa through the Libyan Embassy in London (which had handled my original application).

Anyway, long story short, I suspect the Libyan Embassy put one and one together and decided not to allow me in on my British passport either. I won't get to see whether Libya is still fascinatingly awful or if there's been some improvement.

Emails and phone calls of sympathy, dinner invitations and your thoughts on the ‘King of Kings of Africa’ (as the Colonel was introduced at the UN) are warmly welcomed.