Kurdistan: Day 10, Erbil to Soran

What was supposed to be a quick dash to the residence office to extend my tourist visa prior to leaving Erbil, turned into a bureaucratic nightmare. I arrived with an American I met at the hotel the day before. Before long we worked out that checkpoint 1 was the photocopy machine. Checkpoint 2 was a form collecting stand, checkpoint 3 was room 3 for some stamp, checkpoint 4 was room 17 for another stamp...2 hours later we were up to about checkpoint 10 at room something-or-another, for another stamp.

This is where it got interesting, in a rather dull sort of way. The American was told to go to room 17. And me? Room 11, where a large 'queue' (read: mass of men) awaited. These impatient men weren't waiting their turn however, they were waiting for their passports to reappear from the window for collection, and in the process blocking the path for others to hand their own passport in. Push and shove was required here. It appeared that by chance, the American had jumped the queue due a friendly English speaking staff member, and had gained about an hour on me! No matter, after 4 hours I finally had my new stamp, on one of the 5 new pages I had remaining in my passport (even though it was a small stamp).

Ahhhh, but there was a problem. Throughout the day I had been told I would receive a 5 day visa extension, then 4 days, then 1 week. In the end it was 3 days, in REPLACEMENT of the 4 days I still had remaining on my current visa. More than just a minor problem. After hunting down the only English speaking staff member, the problem was quickly rectified with a 1 week exte....no wait....2 week extension. Even up to the last second before stamping my passport they still hadn't made up their mind!

After a free, freshly squeezed orange juice at the bus station (despite my protests), I said my farewell to Erbil with mixed feelings. However, for a Western expat I imagine it would be one of the more comfortable developing countries to work in.

I spent the evening in Soran (aka Diana), where I had left my bicycle days earlier. After a delicious traditional meal at Talib's home, I had a friendly, translated discussion with Talib's friend about social issues in Kurdistan. Apparently, affordability of housing was a problem due to large increases in recent years. Some Kurds have returned in recent years from Western countries, to live in Kurdistan, bringing reasonable amounts of money with them. Just to mention some numbers, I learned that a friend had just built his house for US$60,000 plus US$20,000 for land, housing 5 or 6 family members.

Talib and his friend also believed the strong family unit that was part of Kurdish culture was under threat with the recent but significant exposures to Western culture.  Apparently, satellite TV and billboards advertising Western products have become far more popular since 2003.

Kurdistan: Day 9, Erbil

A rest day today, working on the blog.

Kurdistan: Day 8, Erbil

Where are all the women in Erbil? Look out onto the street, and you may be lucky to spot a single woman among dozens of men. Apparently the situation is different in the more liberal city of Sulaymaniyah. I did find part of the answer in Erbil's old bazaar. Lots of women. Although I wasn't sure whether many of them were Turkish tourists. While on the subject, many Kurds aren't sure whether I'm a Turkish tourist. They're many thousands of kilometres wrong.

A hunt for postcards turned out to be a disappointment. My whole purpose in coming to Iraq was down the drain. No matter, my new hotel owner suggested that I could use an ATM cash machine here for my VISA or MasterCard. At long last! After two months of no ATM's and the cash running very very low.

That night I was treated to dinner out with the hotel owner and his friend. And beer! Real German beer! Funny enough, I'll probably meet these two in Sweden in two months. Both had lived for numerous years in England and Holland, and had come back to open businesses. One was due to pick up his new English passport in a few weeks.

Kurdistan: Day 7, Erbil

Fortunately I had some contacts though couchsurfing and people I had met in my first couple of days in Iraq, otherwise Erbil might have been a lonely place. I hadn't been in a city for a while, and I had forgotten that I don't really like the impersonal nature of cities, which seemingly holds even in the most friendly and hospitable of countries.

As it was a Friday, most shops were closed. Friday's are usually a great day to ride the bike as the trucks are often off the roads, replaced by friendly picnicking families. I met with a friend and we went out to the Martyr Sami Abdul Rahman Park. The park was named after the deputy PM killed along with many politicians in a suicide bombing in 2004 (one year after the war ended in Kurdistan). My friend suggested that security in Kurdistan has been increased ever since, and as a result Kurdistan is now a very safe country.


The park is an amazing accomplishment. In a capital where power cuts occur every morning, this world class garden was massively popular, with hoards of families enjoying the never-ending roses, outdoor cinemas, fountains, and lakes. And this place used to be Saddam's army base in Erbil? Everyone I meet has the same impression and attitude. That Iraqi Kurdistan is a free country, that Iraqi Kurdistan is on the up economically, and that the massive foreign investment, increasing every year, has created the mini Dubai that is Erbil. There is a positive vibe everywhere.

It's a rather interesting contrast to Iran, where the infrastructure was more advanced, where it's more acceptable and common for women to be out and about (very uncommon in Erbil), and where relationships before marriage are more common. And where living is more affordable in comparison to wages. Yet Iraqis and Iranians I spoke to viewed Iraq as having more freedom, and with a lot of criticism levelled towards the Iranian government. Sure, some activities in Iran aren't officially sanctioned, such as drinking and relationships, but they seemed more common Iran nonetheless, at least amongst those who wanted to engage in these activities.

Kurdistan: Day 6, Soran to Erbil

"So, how can we help you?" asked the police translator, who I later found out was a computer engineer but was for some reason working for the police as a lieutenant. Hmmm, I didn't quite get it. I thought I had been summoned to the police? Turned out to be just a friendly chat, a tea, and an offer to help me out with with money exchange in town and the purchase of a sim card (KOREK, $18 with 10 days unlimited slow internet). Quite amusing sitting in the police car watching Kurdish music videos, running around in the rain doing my shopping with them. They dropped me off at the bus station, bought my ticket, refused payment, and said goodbye. The Iraqi Kurds are even more fierce with their 't'aarof' (one aspect being gift offering by a host) than the Persians.


A fast bus ride through the gorge, in the rain, and before long I was in the Iraqi Kurdistan capital of Erbil, in front of the spectacular walled hilltop citadel, with the appealing month-old fountain as the foreground. The honeymoon was over in a jiffy though, as I checked into the crappiest cheap hotel of my life. $9 for the worst accommodation I had ever seen. $9 for an average meal that would have been three or four dollars in Iran. Ahhhh, but I was back in the lands of the $1 shwarma, otherwise known as kebab or souvlaki in many Western countries. Very good.

Kurdistan: Day 5, Piranshahr to Soran, 86km

The border between Iran and Iraq. 

Trucks were parked by the road from my standpoint all the way to the end of the visible road.

A spectacular view of the snow mountains on the border awaited me the next morning, along with the kebab for breakfast. I said a farewell to my excellent host Salam, and a couple of hours later a farewell to perhaps my favourite country of these travels, Iran.

On my steep uphill to the 1800m high Haji Omaran border, I had passed hundreds and hundreds of parked trucks, waiting to go into Iraq. Some were fuel tankers, others were car carries, with cars that I hadn't seen on the roads in Iran, including American Chryslers. However for me on my bicycle, immigration was a breeze, and the police were as helpful as ever.

Immigration on the Iraqi side was a little slower, although the free 10-day visa was welcome. Unlike Iran, there were a few more questions, a trend which has continued for my stay in Iraq. The police and army in Iraq and Iran have always been friendly and helpful, except when I came out of my interview to find an Iraqi army official riding my bike! I wasn't happy, and after discovering he had broken the phone holder I gave him a piece of my mind. Still dissatisfied after his three kiss-on-the-cheek sorry gesture, I was happy to get started on the long downhill. A race against a bus proved less successful than it had on the mountain roads of Yunnan, China, many months ago on the first leg of my bicycle travels. The sealed but patchy road surface here required a little more caution.

After an amusing incident with a car, where we had both been on the wrong side of the road, I finally arrived in the village of Choman. Some friendly interaction over lunch with the locals resulted in a conversation in Swedish with one man! He had lived in Sweden for 17 years, England for 6, and had now returned to his homeland for a little retirement, and business. Numerous Kurds I was to meet in Iraq had followed this pattern. Kurdistan was now the place to be for business.

The afternoon was a tiring, windy, but 'gorge'ous downhill with some single-handed riding while video shooting. The dogs were a little lacklustre and barely gave chase. I was surprised to find a theme park located in this mountain gorge setting, and a  quick photo turned into lots of conversation, and a bed for the night in the guards quarters. I had almost closed my eyes when the police came along, and after some discussion with the park owner I was told I had an interview with the police the next morning.

Kurdistan: Day 4, Oshnavieh to Piranshahr, 50km

Piranshahr looked beautiful, covered by a thin layer of fog the next morning.

It wasn't too hard to motivate myself to leave the dirty mosaferkhaneh the next morning. On a previous occasion, in southern Iran, finding a mosaferkhaneh had been a God-send (or an Allah-send) as it saved me from having to use my tent in the wet. On that occasion, I had the one-room mosaferkhaneh all to myself.

A short ride 50km to Piranshahr over some slightly hilly terrain was over by lunchtime. Merging with the busier main highway before Piranshahr suggested that the route through Oshnavieh had been a good choice.

Via couchsurfing.com, I had found a host by the name of Salam Salimi in Piranshahr. He turned out to be a very friendly 29 year old jeweller, who had only created a profile on couchsurfing a few days earlier. Coincidently, he had met or hosted a few travellers I had met in Iran a few weeks earlier, including Lukas on a motorcycle and Gaetan on a bicycle.

Salam spoke English well and was keen to meet travellers, all of whom would be passing through Piranshahr to or from Iraq. I was introduced to his English teacher, and some very interesting conversations followed while having a stroll on a hill overlooking the town with a population of 40 thousand.

Apparently, Piranshahr had its own fair share of 'tycoons', ten to fifteen of them, who had been very successful in business and would occasionally take long business trips to China. Some of these tycoons had began taking English lessons but had dropped out due to their busy workloads. No matter, some attractive female translators would be awaiting them in China. Surprisingly, even Kurdish is spoken by some Chinese (ladies), as an Iraqi Kurd later told me, gleefully describing his sex escapeed with a Kurdish speaking Chinese girl during his recent business trip to China.

Also on discussion was the 'problem' of the desire for young men and women to be free to have relationships. It wasn't so much a problem that sexual relationships before marriage were illegal, for it was easy enough to find a discrete location. According to the English teacher, the problem was that most men then later expected their brides to be pure and clean. Apparently Tehran has overcome this problem of 'unreasonable expectation'. Numerous Iranians and Iraqis spoke about Tehran as THE place to go to meet a girl.

An invitation to a late night English lesson produced many questions about Australia, particularly about immigration. I've now become a little more experienced in dispelling the myths of living in Australia and living the 'good life'.