By Heather Stoeckley

Lima is much more than just a one-night stand for travelers to Peru. Preferring to quickly move onto Cuzco and Machu Picchu, or even Iquitos, the gateway for Amazonian explorations, most people choose to bypass any city sight-seeing and use Lima simply as a necessary layover from their international flights.

What first struck me about Lima was its brightly colored houses and buildings, painted intentionally in order to contrast against the often foggy skyline. As a San Francisco native, I immediately felt at home with this aesthetic (and climate). I began my journey in the historic quarter, where remnants of the city’s colonial past are ever present, particularly as you walk through the streets and peer up at the wooden balconies that characterize its buildings. After touring the cathedral and the magnificent Convent of Santo Domingo, I moved on to Barranco, an artistic district on the coast with a distinctly bohemian vibe. A short walk will take you to El Puente de los Sospiros, the Bridge of Sighs, where you can sit sipping a pisco sour and observe the sun setting into the ocean. And, as the gastronomic center of the Americas, Lima offers a fascinating variety of dining experiences that will leave your taste buds dancing! Known for its variety and quality, Peruvian food reflects the many influences of different civilizations which have passed through its borders… and Lima is the best place to sample these culinary achievements.

My recommendation: don’t skip this center of commerce, culture, and history. A day or two spent exploring the city Pizarro called, “The City of Kings,” will leave you yearning to discover more!

A Journey through Mongolia, China, and Korea
Co-Sponsored by UCLA Extension

By Dr. E.C. Krupp, Director of the Griffith Observatory

by Stanley Guenter

This trip to the Maya area picks up where “Capital Cities of the Ancient Maya” leaves off. After visiting Palenque we explore a number of sites in the Rio Bec region of southern Campeche, where little-visited Maya ruins feature entrances built to resemble the mouths of gigantic serpents. The site of Calakmul is one of the largest Maya sites and was anciently the capital of the powerful Snake Kingdom, mortal enemy of the kings of Tikal. The site of Dzibanche is another large ruin that was the capital of the Snake Kingdom from approximately 450 to 600 A.D., before it moved to Calakmul. It was from this capital that Snake Kings, including Sky Witness and Scroll Serpent, set out to attack and defeat such distant enemies as Palenque and Tikal. Kohunlich is a nearby site where large stucco masks were saved from looters when the Mexican authorities secured the site in the 1970s.

Our drive north through the Mexican state of Quintana Roo takes us through the land of the Cruzob Maya, descendants of Maya who in the 19th century rebelled against centuries of mistreatment and who ruled this area independently until the beginning of the 20th century. The Postclassic site of Tulum is situated dramatically on a rocky rise above the turquoise waters of the Caribbean waters that have made the site world famous. Ek Balam has only recently been discovered and is of incomparable importance due to its phenomenal state of preservation. Chichen Itza, in the central part of the Northern Lowlands, was one of the last great Maya capitals and its structures reflect intimate connections with the Toltecs of Central Mexico. The famous Cenote of Sacrifice was once the scene of rituals that included tossing, not only gold and jade artifacts, but also people into the deep waters. Old tales tell of virgin sacrifices and, while the bones of the sacrificial victims have been recovered, modern archaeologists have not been able to verify their virginal status.

We finish off our visit to Yucatan with visits to Uxmal and Dzibilchaltun. Uxmal is one of the most beautiful Maya sites and its Puuc-style architecture has been described as the height of architectural beauty among the ancient Maya, an impressive accomplishment given that all the work was carried out with stone-age technology.

Merida is the capital of Yucatan and has been since colonial times. Even earlier it was the capital of the Postclassic kingdom of Tiho’ and hieroglyphic texts from Dzibilchaltun, an important site just north of modern Merida, reveals that it was the capital of the Tiho’ kingdom back in the Classic period. Merida was known as the “Paris of the West” a hundred years ago due to its French-inspired architecture that flowed from the enormous wealth generated by Yucatan’s henequen haciendas.

By Stanley Guenter

Over the last decade the site of Ek Balam has emerged as one of the great surprises in Maya archaeology. A relatively small site, although possessing sizeable mounds, excavations in Ek Balam’s Acropolis have revealed one of the best preserved stucco facades in Mesoamerica. Arranged around a doorway in the shape of a gigantic serpent’s mouth, nearly life-sized stucco figures were excavated in nearly pristine condition, having been carefully buried by the ancient Maya about 1200 years ago. The reason for the elaborate precautions taken by the builders to preserve this facade were revealed when archaeologists entered the inner chamber of this structure and found a royal tomb. Surrounded by ceramic vessels, once stocked with funerary offerings of food and drink for the deceased, lay the body of Ukit Kan Le’k Tok’. Inscriptions from across the site have now confirmed that he was both the first and the greatest king of Ek Balam, having come to the throne in 770 and dying around 800. During the thirty years of his reign Ek Balam became the greatest power in northeastern Yucatan, superseding Coba, the enormous site to the southeast. Many structures were built at Ek Balam during his reign, and Ukit Kan Le’k is even mentioned in the inscriptions of Ichmul, a site 25 km to the west.

A painted capstone from the room just inside the elaborately decorated facade that framed the entrance to his tomb inform us that the name of this structure was the Sak Xok Naah, that may read “White House of Reading”. Within his tomb many inscriptions named the dead king, and one remarkable find was a carved human femur, clutched in the hands of the deceased. A hieroglyphic inscription on this bone indicated that it was the bone of a man who was named Ukit Ahkan, possibly the father of Ukit Kan Le’k. There was a tradition amongst the ancient Maya of retrieving the bones of their ancestors to use in rituals designed to commune with the dead. The bone held by Ukit Kan Le’k in his tomb had one end filed down into a point, possibly to be used in bloodletting rites. Other objects buried with Ukit Kan Le’k included a necklace made out of small shells carved in the shape of skulls, as well as pearls and most remarkably, a small frog made out of gold. Gold is all but completely unknown from the Classic Maya world, and this piece was clearly an import from Panama given its style, indicating the extensive trade networks of which Ukit Kan Le’k was a part.

What may be the most interesting find in the tomb, however, was a painted capstone found above the burial. On it, Ukit Kan Le’k is portrayed in the guise of the Maize God, the deity of resurrection and rebirth who represented the cycle of life and death in the cornfield that was the center of traditional Maya life. This painting is unique, however, in portraying this king/god with a split upper lip. Osteological examination of the bones found in the tomb revealed that Ukit Kan Le’k had suffered from a bone disease on his maxillary area, suggesting that in life he would have indeed had an oddly shaped upper lip. While most Maya kings were portrayed in an idealized manner, the artists of Ek Balam saw it fit to portray their king as an individual, allowing us over a thousand years later a unique glimpse into the reality of life as a Maya king.

No Bañarse!
by Sara Barbieri, Tour Manager (on January 2009 trip)

When you are traipsing through the jungle in the pouring rain feeling the water seep through your clothes, you do begin to wonder what you are doing—oh yes, stalking a Maya ruin at Yaxha! The world around you is still and green and there are no other foolish mortals about (save your intrepid fellow travelers). Transported back in time and appreciative to be with “glyph-man”, Stan Guenter, who illuminates the history of the stelae and the temples you discover, the moment seduces you. The morning, you realize, though damp is thoroughly excellent and even invigorating. And, when this experience is followed by a lakeside lunch under thatched eves at El Sombrero where the soup warms your bones and a member of your group disappears into the kitchen to concoct mulled wine, you know there is nothing better than where you are. After lunch, a boat carries you across a crocodile-infested lake through mist and the flutter of egrets wings (yes, and more rain) to an island where the site of Topoxte awaits. We have the island to ourselves, the only people with the foresight to explore this remarkable and remote site when no one else is about! On the way back to our hotel as the damp rises off our clothes and the windows fog up, we all agree, today is our favorite day so far…

The World of the Maya

by R. Werner, Tour Member

Pity the poor Maya archaeologists of yore who hacked their way through the dense tropical jungles of Honduras, Guatemala, and Mexico for days, searching for some source of water to slake their parched throats or for a bite to eat. They possessed almost no understanding of the history of the Maya or even the belief that the Maya inscriptions contained any information except for some calendrical notations.

This is the thought that occurred to me on the Far Horizons’ Capital Cities of the Ancient Maya tour last February as I gazed over the Copan Valley at the ancient site of Copan from a small restaurant serving up heapings of a variety of traditional foods cooked over a firewood stove, each dish better than the last.

And to think that we would have to get up in the morning and take our air-conditioned comfortable bus from our luxury hotel to the incredibly well-maintained site of Copan.

Stanley Guenter, our archaeologist guide read off the hieroglyphic inscriptions on the stelae at Copan like they were this morning’s news, bringing to life the ancient kingdom’s struggles with Quirigua and Tikal.

From Copan to Copan’s arch rival Quirigua and then off to the mighty Tikal. The history got deeper and deeper. Down the Usumacinta River in a boat and then off for Palenque.

The hardest part of the trip for me was calling my wife enduring Boston’s winter to let her know which great site, hotel, or restaurant we had just been to (we had both thought when I left for the trip that I would be roughing it in the jungle).

I had such a great time I signed up for the Hidden Maya Cities of the Yucatan tour, which left a few weeks later. Stanley Guenter again was the archaeologist guide.

Yes, archaeologists of yore are probably better off not knowing about these Far Horizons trips. But for us – what a treat!

My Birthday at Tikal

by Heather Stoeckley, Destination Manager

Few places present a better impression of the Maya civilization’s past glory than Tikal. The towering temples pierce upwards through the jungle, humbling every living thing in their presence. A trek through this jungle city, a dynastic powerhouse during the Classic Period of the Maya, offers a rare chance to climb to the top of these temples and view the world as the ancient Maya did so long ago.

In February 2007, on my birthday, I entered Tikal with the Capital Cities of the Ancient Maya group, unaware of the adventures to come. In Izta Maya, the name Tikal means “place of voices” and our search to bring the ancient Maya voices back to life began in the Great Plaza. At first, the only “voices” to be heard were the chirps of native birds and the booming call of the howler monkey, a sound so unworldly that it is beyond description. But then our study leader, Stanley Guenter, began to unravel the layers of Mayan history at Tikal, illuminating for us its rise to power and enthusiastically recounting its epic battles with rival cities Calakmul and Caracol. Continuing on our exploration to uncover and learn more, we allowed ourselves to act as children once again, climbing up to the tops of Temples 2 and 5 to capture that one Kodak moment, the perfect souvenir of our adventure.

After a long and exciting day of venturing through the jungle, we ended our visit at Temple 4, where the view from the top was made famous in Star Wars. Using the zigzag wooden stairs constructed by far braver souls than I, we huffed and puffed our way to the top for a panoramic view of the rebel base, err, I mean Tikal. The sight from the top was astounding – vegetation as far as the eye could see, punctuated by the tops of temples – and we all took a moment to sit and appreciate its grandeur. After catching our breath, we descended from our peaceful perch back into this lost world of the Maya to make our way home.

Quite the adventure, quite the birthday!

Midsummer on Easter Island–February in the Southern Hemisphere–is the time for the annual festival known as “Tapati.” It started originally as a hometown event featuring song, dance, and poetry–very much a local party. The events were often scheduled for outdoors, so they frequently were rained out in mid-performance.

In 1983, a new gym was constructed. It had a stage and bleachers up the sides and so festival performances — dancing, chanting, beauty contestants, kai kai chants – were held indoors. Kai kai refers to string figures accompanied by chants, and very popular with the Rapanui who watch and listen intently. When a kai kai performance is done properly and elegantly, everyone breaks into cheers and applause.

A big street parade always comes toward the end of each festival. Every candidate for queen has a float and all those participating are painted and dressed in costumes. They wind around the streets, accompanied by singing and chanting islanders. It ends at the gym for a dance that lasts all night.

Costumes in the early days were simple but creative, made from bark cloth, cardboard, bed sheets, foliage. The festival was an event for themselves, not for tourists. But all that changed after Hollywood’s influence. Kevin Costner’s film was made here and every islander worked on it, in some capacity. They learned about staging, costume-making, and dramatic lighting effects, and they carried these new skills and concepts into their annual festival.

Other festival events include spear-fishing, canoe races, swimming races, horse races, body painting competitions, a vegetable growing competition, backcloth making, and even shell bead-making. The events are hotly contested, for each person competing in an event is earning points for one of the three queen candidates. Each candidate represents one of the island family lines so there is considerable family pride and one-upmanship involved. Losers are taunted, and anger often spills over.

Another festival event, a kind of triathlon, is held inside the statue quarry near Rano Raraku’s lake. This traditional event was not altered by Hollywood’s influence; it already was sufficiently bizarre. Barefoot male contestants wearing only body paint and skimpy barkcloth g-strings called hami first paddle across the lake on bundles of reeds. They then pick up bunches of bananas on each end of a pole and, slinging the load across their shoulders, run around the crater. Then up the hill again to grab bundles of reeds, around the lake once again, and then swim back. It is a gruelingly rough competition. This always is a well-attended event, probably because everyone keeps hoping the barkcloth hami might dissolve in the water.

But the most amazing event is known as haka pei, the “banana slide.” Contestants slide down a steep hill while perched on two banana tree-trunks, lashed together. They lay face up on this contraption, their feet braced against a short crosspiece. The one who remains on his tree trunk and goes the farthest, wins. It is suicidal. The contestants wear only tiny hami, plus lots of feathers and body paint, and so they have no protection. Every year some participants end up in the island’s hospital with broken bones, or worse.

The final Tapati event, the crowning of the queen, takes place at the archaeological site of Tahai, with Ahu Vai Ure illuminated from behind. A spotlight highlights Ahu Tahai and the actual crowning is done by torchlight—dozens of torches flickering in the dark. Behind it all, a huge moon casts a silver light across the water. A dynamite event!

All of these events and activities are accompanied by a lot of party-time. Following each evening event, everyone flocks to the disco where they dance and drink until daylight. Nothing else happens in the village during the festival events, for everyone is involved, in some way, with Tapati. Women sew costumes, dancers rehearse for months in advance, those planning to compete in the swimming or other athletic events practice to get into shape for their special event. Island artisans carve items for an exhibit and sale. What started out as a strictly local and small-scale island competition has morphed into the Big Time. Now, thousands of tourists come to the island to be there for the “party”. The festival has become big business.

The municipalidad prints a colorful poster each year to advertise the coming Tapati festival. These are posted around the village and sent around South America via Chilean consulates, in the hope of encouraging visitors to come to the island. One year the Tapati poster featured a photograph of a statue combined with close-up shots of several islanders. While one handsome and prominently featured islander enjoyed his 15 minutes of fame, police in Argentina saw the poster. They recognized him as a fugitive from justice. International police appeared and took him away. What price fame?

A 25-year-old Finnish tourist caused excitement on Easter Island in March of this year when he broke off part of the ear of a possibly 600-year-old statue at the holy site of ‘Anakena on the island’s northeast coast. The act was witnessed by an angry Rapanui, one of Easter Island’s indigenous population, who notified the local police. Now the Finn faces a stiff fine, perhaps even incarceration, for defacing what Chile, Easter Island’s governing state, considers its priceless national patrimony. The outrage filled newspaper columns throughout the world. Each year, I lead a Far Horizons group to ‘Anakena’s palm-adorned archaeological site enthroned above a lovely sandy beach, one of the exciting highlights of our special Easter Island adventure.

By Sara Barbieri

Whirling through the landscape of Cyprus, in the footsteps of St. Helena (mother of Constantine the Great), Hala Sultan (believed to be the wet-nurse to Mohammed), Berengaria (first-born daughter of King Sancho VI of Navarre who, incidentally, married Richard the Lion Hearted), not to mention the damp footprints of Aphrodite (birthed from the sea foam off the west coast of the island), I discover a land that has been repeatedly invaded, sought for its strategic position as a trading center in the Eastern Mediterranean. A complex cultural mingling of Turkish and Greek Cypriots permeates the island. Though the island’s two main religions are Greek Orthodox and Islam almost every religion is represented including a significant community of Maronites.

Cyprus is the third largest island in the Mediterranean and has an unusually diverse climate. It has wild donkeys and the endangered mouflon as well as being the flyway for bird migrations and thus home in April and November to multiple bird species who temporarily inhabit the salt marshes on the southern coast. Cyprus is known for its wicker, silver and lace making, as well as for its preserves, charcuterie, the unusual soutzioukos made by dipping a string of almonds in a syrup of grape juice, flour, and rosewater over a period of 5 days, and Commanderia, the ancient sweet wine believed to have been made on the island since 800BCE, to name only a few.

Now to my escapade. Through the window of the plane, I can see from the arid and chalky landscape how the summer heat has battered the island. As I alight on the tarmac, I am grateful for the warmth that envelops me after the air-conditioned plane ride during which I sat huddled in my coat. Just near the airport on the shores of a series of four salt lakes is Hala Sultan Tekke, the Muslim shrine, built over the spot where Hala Sultan was buried. It is believed that Hala Sultan was on Cyprus with her husband during one of the first Arab raids and died after a fall from her mule. There are accounts of Ottoman ships hanging their flags at half mast when in the harbor and saluting Hala Sultan with cannon shots. It is considered the third most sacred site in the Muslim world after Kaaba in Mecca and the Mosque of the Prophet in Medina.

Driving along the coast road toward Limassol, I see Tenta, a Neolithic site excavated by the British beginning in 1947. On my left, the Mediterranean gleams in the afternoon sun and is the reason that Cyprus is such a popular tourist destination for sun and sea worshippers. There is the inevitable growth along the southern coast, waves of hotels and restaurants and nightclubs that momentarily obscure the reasons that Cyprus has inspired Far Horizons to create a tour here. I check in to my hotel where I am warmly welcomed at reception. The hotel’s hospitality includes a fruit plate and the gift of Cypriot Delight in my room. I decide I desperately need to stretch my legs and go out to walk along the boardwalk. I’m not certain how I feel about the town of Limassol, but try to remember that it takes a while for a place to reveal itself and to learn what is has to offer.

Over the ensuing week of island exploration, it becomes apparent that there is a wealth of archaeological sites to explore inspiring archaeologists from all over the world to come to the island and dig supported by, amongst others, CAARI, the Cyprus American Archaeological Institute. From Khirokitia to Salamis to a nameless chalcolithic cemetery nestled in a grove of carob trees and overlooking the ghost town of Souskiou, the array of options seems endless. In the late afternoon, desperate for Cypriot coffee to give us a second wind, we stop in a tiny village and join two elderly gentlemen sipping their coffee and sitting tranquilly looking out over the surrounding countryside. David quickly engages them in conversation and asks which part of the island they are from originally. I should mention that the island is divided into two parts, three, if you count the British bases (they have two), and four if you count the green line or buffer zone where the U.N. troops are stationed. I won’t attempt to extensively explain this complex arrangement which actually begs for one. Suffice it to say that the southern part of the island is Greek Cypriot and the northern part is Turkish Cypriot. The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus is only recognized by Turkey. Relations have improved slowly since 1974 but there is no clear resolution of the various issues as of yet. David explains to me that the more elderly residents of the island are actually less intolerant of each other than the younger ones. That is because for so many years, prior to 1974, they co-existed relatively peacefully, were friends and business partners and villages were a mixture of Turkish and Greek Cypriot.

The culture of the island is perhaps less accessible as modernity and tourism conspire to alter it, but still with some patience and the desire to depart from the tourist track it is possible to uncover some of the old world traditions. I watch halloumi being made (a firm, brined cheese usually served grilled), and visit a workshop in the Troodos mountains where a group of local women sit in a circle prepping various fruits for canning while chatting about their lives. I also tour the workshop of a man whose family has been making rosewater products from the Damascus rose for many years. There is a harvest festival and parade in the village during May and clouds of rose petals are strewn throughout. Visitors may even elect to be buried in rose petals, apparently a popular activity!

On my first night I am hosted by a gallant Greek Cypriot, Demos, to a dinner of traditional Cypriot mezes. We drive from my hotel winding away from the brash main street catering to tourists and park in front of what was once an old stone home and is now a lovely restaurant. The stone walls exude character and are covered with creeping grapevines. Inside the wood of the tables and the floor and the small nooks where people dine give the restaurant a warm atmosphere. A stream of small plates is continuously brought to the table until we ask the waiter to cease and desist. From the ubiquitous olive, dips such as taramosolata (made from fish roe, lemon juice, and minced onion), lamb souvlakia or kebab, and loukanika (the local sausage) to afela (pork stewed in wine and coriander seeds), or talattouri (cucumber, mint, and yogurt salad), there are a myriad different dishes of which mezes consist. And there is fine Cypriot wine and for the fearless, firewater, known as Zivania, which may only be made on Cyprus and is derived from the residue of grapes used in the winemaking process and is 45 proof.

The next morning, my invaluable guide and archaeologist, David, who has lived on Cyprus since the early 80s, arrives in a jeep to pick me up so we can go off-road. Our mission is to cover the southwestern quadrant of the island, our ultimate destination the UNESCO World Heritage site of the ancient town of Paphos. En route, I take a moment to think of Berengaria, who married Richard the Lionheart in the Chapel of St. George near Limassol, though he was engaged to another and simply wanted his hands on the lands of Navarre. So romantic these kings – no thought to what they can gain, who they can capture and maim. In this area archaeologists have discovered the remains of a settlement including the bones of the pygmy hippo. A little further we reach Petra tou Romiou the place on the coast where Aphrodite is purported to have emerged from the sea. I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t feel like a goddess rising from the glistening sea at such an idyllic spot… One of the highlights of the day is our visit to the monastery of Panagia tou Sinti – an abandoned 16th century church in the beautiful valley of Xeros Valley. The setting is sublimely peaceful and evocative of another era and feels like an important antidote to some of the more built up areas of the island.

Salamis, an ancient city state on the east coast of Cyprus, is striking at any time of day, but was especially so in the late afternoon light with hardly another browser in sight. Situated at the very edge of the coast, most of the ruins date to the Roman period but finds have been made that date to back to the 11th c. BCE. Only a short drive from Salamis brings us to the town of Famagusta which came into its own in the early 1100s during the rule of the Lusignan family. It was very late in the day, just before sundown but there was still just enough light to admire the picturesque old town and particularly the Church of St. Nicholas which was turned into a mosque in 1571 and has been known as Lala Mustafa Pasha since that time. I entered as the caretaker was anointing the columns with streams of rosewater from a small bottle which, when I showed interest, he generously doused me with, also dabbing me with oil from another vial that had the scent of incense. Slowly meandering through the chamber of this unusual church cum mosque, my eyes were drawn to the stained glass window over the entrance as the last light of the day illuminated each piece of glass infusing the room with a dreamy glow.

There are currently ten UNESCO World Heritage churches in the Troodos and more on the tentative list. Of the five churches I was able to squeeze into my day, all of them had an exquisite turn of detail, setting, and one or more unusual paintings to recommend it. One church, Agios Ioannis Lampadistis, is actually three churches that have melded into one over the years. The original structure, the church of St. Irakleidion, was constructed, followed by the church of Lampadisti, both during the 11th c. BCE. These were connected by a narthex or portico in the 15th c. BCE, and finally the Latin chapel was added in the 15th c. BCE. The interior of these churches is a riot of frescoes or wall paintings (depending upon how you define fresco which seems to engender some debate), illustrating key events in the life of Jesus. Lampadistis, or St. John, to whom the second church is dedicated, was canonized shortly after his death at 22. His tomb is in the church and the niche above contains a silver reliquary containing his skull. While I was there two robed priests with long black beards, black robes, and ornate vestments appeared to deliver the reliquary which had been borrowed by another church in the district. With some ceremony, carrying the sacred item on a silver tray, they returned the reliquary to its home.

On a clear day you can see Turkey from Kyrenia. Charlotte of Cyprus or Charlotte de Lusignan, another woman whose footprints I tread in, was blockaded in Kyrenia castle for three years, following her ascension to the throne, until she managed to escape fleeing to Rome never to return. Charlotte became Queen of Cyprus at the age of 14, upon her father’s death, but her half-brother challenged her right to the throne, hence the siege of her castle. Kyrenia has a gem-like medieval harbor and the castle, variously Byzantine, Crusader, and Venetian, and is famous not only for its stunning setting but also for what is called the Kyrenia ship, the wreck of a 4th c. BCE Greek merchant ship carrying among other items an abundance of wine amphoras. It was discovered off the coast by a sponge diver in 1967 and subsequently salvaged and is now on display in the Ancient Shipwreck Museum within the castle. In the adjacent town of Bellapais is the noteworthy and truly lovely Bellapais Abbey built by the monks of Premonstratensian in the 13th c. CE. David and I stop for a quick lunch in the open-air restaurant which is tucked carefully next to the abbey and is a perfect place to enjoy another series of mezes, more Turkish than Greek in the north, and to continue to appreciate the charms of the abbey. Our waiters are young Kurdish men from Eastern Turkey who immigrate to Cyprus to work. We end the day in Kavalvasos, a village of narrow streets, small houses with courtyards, and bouiganvillea climbing here and there as though consciously creating its lovely effect. There is a cafe in the village square which is a perfect place to sit in peace with a glass of wine and look back on the day.

By Heather Stoeckley

In March of 2008, I was fortunate enough to accompany our second group trip to Libya, a country that is home to many awe-inspiring archaeological sites: Leptis Magna, Cyrene, Sabratha and Ptolemais. All stand as testimony to the past glory and architectural beauty of the Greek and Roman empires. Few experiences in life can rival the feeling of standing humbly beneath the Septimus Severus Arch at Leptis Magna; with eyes agog, one cannot help but to marvel at the pure grandeur and intricacy of its design. Then there is the magnificent Temple of Zeus at Cyrene and the elegant amphitheater at Sabratha, both of which sit picturesquely along the coastline with the azure waters of the Mediterranean as their backdrops. After visiting all of these sites throughout the course of our trip, it became ever so clear to me why Libya, so mysterious and unknown a country to many westerners, is such a coveted travel destination the world over.

But Libya is much more than a nucleus of pristine Greco-Roman archaeological sites, glorious though they may be. Libya is also the bustling metropolis of Tripoli, where the winding streets of the old medina are sharply contrasted by the burgeoning of modern buildings. And in the west lies Ghadames, the land of the Berbers, where a stroll through the old town is a step back into time. From here, we traveled by 4X4 jeeps to Grand Erg Oriental on the western border with Algeria and Tunisia, where the great sand sea of the Sahara stretches far and wide. The jeeps dropped us off at a Tuareg tent where we watched as a Berber man demonstrated traditional bread-making methods using underground ovens. After a delectable sampling of this treat and a quick respite under the pillow-strewn tent (tea included!), we set forth up the sand dunes for a panoramic view of the impending sunset. As a human caravan traveling along the crest of the dunes, we steadily marched towards our final destination and eventually perched ourselves atop the tallest and farthest mountain of windblown sand. As we watched the sun’s slow but determined descent towards the horizon, a small group of Tuareg men – who punctuated the nude background with their native bright blue dress – drummed rhythmically on their traditional instruments. And when the sun finally set, anticlimactic though it always is, the clouds turned pink and there was nothing but sublime silence.

I will always remember Libya with fondness, not only for its glorious architectural monuments, but more so for the sheer bliss I experienced while watching the sun retreat into the vast Sahara landscape.