The Daily Telegraph - Saturday - Travel
‘My wonderful Libyan guide pushed me around Leptis Magna in a wheelbarrow’
Our request for stories about destinations that are now off-limits produced a record response – but there was one clear winner
NOT SO DRY DESERT
Off-limits travel? North Korea? Libya? Where do I start? My most surreal experience was in alcohol-free Yemen in the 1980s. We set out with our guides in two 4x4s for a long day’s drive that included a visit to the abandoned coastal town of Mocha (famous for its coffee). En route, we drove offroad to an isolated rock in the desert. From behind it, traders appeared and took our orders – but not for coffee.
After exploring the town, we headed back to the same rock – from which our alcoholic orders were again dispensed. Mine was several cans of Heineken labelled “Only for export to Puerto Rico”. We smuggled them into the next (dry) hotel we stayed at. Michael Green, West Yorkshire
HINDU KUSH HIKE
Hitchhiking in 1968, two friends and I arrived in Afghanistan for an epic trek in the Hindu Kush, years before the Russian invasion. We hired a horse and a porter to carry our gear and travelled perilously beside flooding rivers and past lapis lazuli mines made famous by the mask of Tutankhamun.
Steady progress led us to the Anjuman Pass at 14,500ft. I sold my binoculars to a wealthy Afghan on his horse and our descent began. Nomads plied us with fresh yoghurt as we sat among deep-blue gentians. Lower down, where the streams coalesced, there were apricot and mulberry groves – a vision of paradise. Water mills, still working, straddled the nascent rivers. Geoff Simmons, Herefordshire
SYRIAN SNAPSHOT
In November 1991 the cruise ship Orpheus docked at Latakia in Syria, to be met by a band and TV crew, as the first tourist ship to dock after the restoration of diplomatic relations. Over the next few days we were welcomed wherever we went. The highlights for me were Aleppo, Apamea and Krak des Chevaliers. Watching the destruction of Aleppo on TV brought back to mind not just the sights, but also the people, who greeted us with smiles everywhere. The only downside was the endless display of posters of Assad senior, which decorated every blank wall or pillar. Many of these experiences are lost, possibly forever, but remain in my memory and photographs.
Mairi Macdonald, Warwickshire
KOREA PROSPECTS
In 2013 we fulfilled an ambition to see the Arirang Mass Games in North Korea. They were spectacular, and the trip was extraordinary. We stayed on the 30th floor of the vast Koryo Hotel in Pyongyang, with only a few other guests. At night the view was strangely dark, with few lights in the blocks of flats.
The most sombre place we visited was the Kumsusan Memorial Palace – the mausoleum for Kim Il-sung and Kim Jong-il. Their embalmed bodies were reached by a travelator filled with silent North Koreans, softly sobbing. After a visit to Mount Kumgang, we returned to the Koryo – only to be checked back into the same suite, beautifully cleaned. Bizarrely, our half-finished bottle of water and two glasses were in the same place as when we left. Gwen Godfrey, London
BEETLE MANIA
In 1978, we were living in Sokoto, Nigeria, and visited neighbouring Niger for our summer holiday. We travelled with our 10-month-old baby and two other families, driving in convoy for 300 miles in VW Beetles. We crossed the border and continued through the Sahel to Niamey, Niger’s capital.
On arrival, the hotel staff denied having received our reservation letter, and we were given a room with a broken window. Apart from that, it was pure luxury: French food and a swimming pool. My diary extract for July 19 1978 reads: “Went to the museum, zoo and Hausa village, saw artisans at work and visited the shop – beautiful leather and silverware. Visited the large market, then Le Petit Marché.” Another highlight was walking halfway across Pont Kennedy and watching locals doing their laundry in the wide Niger River. Dee Murray, Shropshire
GOOD VALUE VENEZUELA
Fifty years ago we were a young expatriate family living in Caracas, Venezuela. Our son was born there, at a clinic run by two brothers – an obstetrician and a paediatrician. Caracas was paradise, with a perfect climate. Our middle-class standard of living there has never been matched since, and Britain was held in high regard, remembered as having fought with Simon Bolivar in his struggle to liberate Venezuela from Spain.
Our car’s eight-litre engine consumed £2’s-worth of petrol a week, and weekends were spent on white, sandy beaches on a coast stretching for thousands of miles. We have indelible memories of the German-speaking Colonia Tovar, and of being flown by a business friend in his own plane, soaring above the surreal, tepui-filled Canaima National Park and the Angel Falls. We treasure our photographs to this day. Keith Pickering, London