This is the scene around here for much of the time right now.  Was it the snowy start to the year that's resulted in such a busy March?  Or is it my tendency to say yes first and wonder why later?  Whatever the reason, right now I'm hardly at home and my "portfolio career" feels more like a stranglehold.

My difficulty is that I enjoy what I do.  I love working with people, with skilled colleagues who are so generous with their time and commitment.  I enjoy a challenge, to fiddle about with some gadget or other and watch as someone else realises what potential lies in that small box.  All I need to keep me going is to witness the sparkle in their eyes as they succeed in something they've been trying to do, to stand by and watch the creative process happening. To inspire a little motivation and persuade them that they really do want to go on and learn more.

But these pleasures are often accompanied by frustration.  Jobs half done or not done as well as I'd have hoped.  Books started and left so the plot is lost.  Time wasted sitting listening to badly prepared speakers with inadequate resources. A laptop computer which takes forever to complete a process and then, when it finally springs to life, tells you that no, you can't open Flickr because there's no proof that you, the user, are 18 or over. 

At times like this, it's good to be home.

Even if it's littered with unpacked bags, piles of unopened post, letters demanding attention and a whole plethora of half started "good intentions".

Like the start of Shimelle's "Something from Almost Nothing" project.  My "therapy" - playing about with bits of paper and a few other things.

Whilst I've been running about here and there, the crocus have appeared and Spring seems to be happening. 

To think, I nearly missed it.

A seven point list to ensure the safe use of a bathmat, which is itself  there to ensure the safe use of an everyday household feature that most of us have used since childhood?

In London yesterday for a rather belated birthday dinner with Edward (who turned 25 at the beginning of January), I took the opportunity of investigating the new Anthropologie store on Regent Street.  I'm a fan - not particularly of the merchandise, which is aimed at an altogether younger, thinner and more spendy target than me, but of the creative spirit of the merchandising team.  Anthropologie is always high on my list of "must visit" destinations when we are in the United States and never disappoints.  I'm glad to say the London store didn't either.

The window display with these stunning flowers made from recycled plastic was supported by some great chandeliers inside, made by the same artist.  Googling to identify the maker brought up a whole heap of results - clearly I am not the only fan of these colourful flowers, and perhaps unsurprisingly, there is a whole Flickr group devoted to Anthropologie's window displays!

More observations later, visiting the Ladies cloakroom in Browns Hotel, possibly the first such place where I've spotted pinups!  Nothing sleazy or overt, but a selection of elegant gentlemen to adorn the walls, clearly appreciated by visitors to the smallest room. 

Quite entertaining.

For sure, a visit to Libya isn't a last minute option.  First, our passports needed Arabic translations, then visas were required.  As far as I know, it's not possible to travel there independently - we made all our travel plans with a reliable and knowledgeable travel agent.  We had a last minute panic when, just four days before our visit, travellers from countries in the Schengen area of the EU were denied entry, even though they had valid visas.  We breathed a sign of relief when we read that British citizens were ok.

All of this planning and preparation was amply rewarded by the people of this remarkable country, who without exception offered a warm and friendly welcome to us.  The wealth of treasures, in the form of both historical remains and natural landscapes is second to none - and we hardly scratched the surface.  there is plenty more to see and now our appetite has been whetted...well!

Abdullah, our city guide in Tripoli, pointed out the pink set on display in the silk souq.  "For Wednesdays" he said.

Why?

"Because traditionally women visit the hammam that day and it's customary for them to wear pink afterwards".

So many small stories, things to learn, customs to share.  It's these things which make our travelling so interesting.  When we told friends where we were heading for our February break, they raised an eyebrow: Why on earth were we going to a country with a reputation for - well, all kinds of things?  Were we wise to go somewhere so "foreign"?  Would we be safe? 

In answer to that question, I suggest a close look at the photograph above, taken in the weavers cooperative in Tripoli around mid morning on Tuesday.  Totally empty of people but full of goods: silk, materials, the normal tools and belongings of the people who work there.  Open to all and yet, 100% secure, because no-one would dream of going in there and taking something which wasn't theirs, or creating mischief of any kind.  Here we are in a capital city like no other where we felt completely safe, trusted and comfortable.  I'm not saying that I don't feel safe in London, but I guess that anyone with an office or storefront on a main thoroughfare would be a little hesitant to leave it all quite so open and empty.  Such a lack of petty crime here was refreshing.

Of course, it's hard to make accurate judgements on the basis of just four days in a couple of places, but we were struck by the fact that we saw little evidence of real poverty.  Most people looked healthy, well dressed and drove what we'd regard as "ordinary" cars.  At the opposite end of the scale, neither did we see any signs of ostentatious wealth: No flash cars, flashy jewellery or designer labels.  For sure, there must be a broad range of social standing and class, but such things were difficult for we outsiders to identify.  We saw only a broad range of "ordinary" and that, to us, looked pretty good.

We were fortunate to have the company of a first-class guide who shared a wealth of knowledge with us and by doing so enlightened us to the reality of a country which is changing rapidly.  We left with a real thirst to see more; to visit Cyrenaica and Benghazi, to travel to Ghadames and experience a different part of the desert.  We'd like to visit Leptis Magna again to spend longer "just looking" and take another look at those magnificent mosaics in the museum.  On a future visit we'd be braver and be more prepared to venture that bit further beyond; to stay in a traditional Tripoli hotel like the El Khan and go looking for a more authenic menu than the soup/chicken/rice/salad/chips we were generally given on this occasion.  I'd prepare a little better by learning a few more words of Arabic, too!

If it wasn't for the fact that we rather enjoyed having the place to ourselves, I'd suggest that this is a place which should feature on everyone's list of "must sees".

We'd better make our next trip quick, before it does.

I'd mentioned to Mohammed that I'd like to take home some dates.  Following our walk around the city with Abdullah, he met us and promised to stop at the best place on the way to the airport.  This turned out to be the "Italian Market" and my goodness, what a place!

I always enjoy looking around a foreign food market, especially one like this which has so many good things on offer.  So many fish, smply displayed and looking so appetising, fresh vegetables and fruit mostly home grown but a few imports (bananas and apples)

Arriving in the "dried fruit department", Mohammed jostled and bantered with the young saleman in a good natured way.  He explained that, no, he wasn't a regular at this particular stall, but that by building a bit of a relationship with the seller, a better deal can be secured and the business transaction can be made more enjoyable.

How true!  This concept was one which stayed with me and I found myself thinking back to it later.  Isn't this something we've lost here, where we buy from anonymous supermarkets where sometimes, I don't even speak to a member of staff (if I use the Quick Check facilty).  Isn't this something which makes shopping in a Farmers Market so much more pleasurable?  Perhaps our discomfort in haggling in an exotic marketplace results from the loss of these basic social skills, our inability to establish a friendly  relationship with the seller before embarking on the process of buying something? 

I watched Mohammed in action again at the olive stall, where the seller and he exchanged a few greetings (and tastings) before choosing which olives they'd recommend for me to bring home.

Hmm.  So much more to take home from that marketplace than a bag of dates and olives.

We walked around, better able to put it in perspective now we'd seen more of the city and been to Leptis Magna.

The blue skies and warm, comfortable temperatures brought the city to life.

Abdullah took us inside the Zumit Hotel, one of a new breed of restored places to stay in the traditional style.  The Zumit hotel had been a caravanserai and retained all the atmosphere of those days.

As we stood in the courtyard dining room, gazing up to the blue sky, a small tortoise wandered along at our feet, quite at home here in the sunken part of the building.

Next stop, the Gurgi Mosque, small but beautifully decorated and very atmospheric.

Wandering through the old streets of the Medina, we heard of plans to renovate these fine Italian style houses, formerly homes of wealthy merchants and their families.

Frequently on the corner of a small street or Zenghat, there would be a Roman pillar, "reclaimed" from Leptis Magna and put to use in a slightly different way from that which was originally intended.

Life goes on in 21st century style in streets not really made for vehicles and we step inside another restored building to take a look.

This one is the El Khan Hotel, stylishly decorated in a very sympathetic way and certainly somewhere to consider for our next visit - yes, there will be another trip here before long!

Across the street, then, past another pillar on the corner, and into the House of Yusuf Karamanli, now a small museum of life here in Tripoli.

Another beautiful courtyard, more tiles and patterned surfaces.

The darkened rooms contained a collection of bits and pieces, including some terrific pieces of embroidered clothing with some great trapunto style work on silk jackets - we'd seen an elderly gentleman wearing such a jacket earlier and it was good to learn a little more about it.

Another corner, another pillar and down another zenghat and we got a quick look inside a weavers workshop, then a quick mooch around the silk purchasing cooperative next door.  Both places open and empty, their occupants having gone off for a break but no matter, no need to lock up or anything - Tripoli is just that kind of place.

Now Abdullah knew that textiles were "my thing", he turned sharp left and there we were, in the silk alley where shop after shop was filled with glorious colour and sumptuous fabrics.  Heavy beaded pieces hung by the doorway and we were assured that women did indeed wear such things if only on special occasions!

Out into the open again and finding ourselves on the main route back into Green Square, we regained our bearings - we were near the Copper Souq we'd explored on Friday, when all was closed.

Time to step inside the Jamahiriya Museum now and an opportunity to see the treasures of the city, most particularly some fine mosaics we'd heard were essential viewing.

More about that in the next post.

No, I hadn't heard of them, either.  But Pliny the Elder wrote about them, as did Herodotus, for the Garamantians made Germa the capital of their empire in the 1st century AD and being a somewhat civilised bunch, they left their mark. 

We fetched up here at the cemetery first, to view the curious square topped pyramid tombs.

I'm still not quite sure if they were originally this shape or whether the original grave is underneath a modern pyramid shaped construction and being the historical heathen that I am, I find it difficult to tell reconstruction from original anyway.  Perhaps I'll read more about the Garamantian civilisation in the next few weeks?

There were plenty of these tombs, anyway.

Having always thought that a visit to a museum after seeing the "real thing" was a bit of a waste of time, in this particular instance, it would have helped greatly if the museum had been open.  But, it's Monday, and as we know, the world's museums close on Mondays, including that of Germa.

Next stop, in a stony part of the desert, was a mysterious stone structure, with unquestionable Garamantian heritage but unknown purpose.

Finally, to the ancient site of Garama, a collection of remains of former adobe-style buildings, including a castle/fortress.  I left the historical details to the experts in the family, much preferring to observe the construction techniques

the dates

and the beautifully woven palm fences which we've seen everywhere in the area.

Some more photographs of Germa and the Garamantian remains below.