Ghadames, Libya, October 2026

By evening, we reached the city of Ghadames and spent the night at the Dar Ghadames hotel. The building was imposing, with soaring ceilings and long corridors. Its layout formed a closed quadrangle giving it the appearance of a medieval fortress. The rooms were furnished with a bed and a daybed, both covered in attractive spreads.

Breakfast consisted of plenty of white bread, butter, jam, boiled eggs, and instant coffee which was not exactly a feast, but enough to keep hunger at bay. After eating, we set off to explore the old town, a UNESCO World Heritage site.

Ghadames is situated in an oasis, it is one of the oldest cities in the Sahara. The houses in the old town remain privately owned, even though they are virtually uninhabited. The law prohibits the sale of these houses. They can only be passed down through inheritance. By custom, the parents’ house goes to the youngest son. Older sons marry, build their own homes, and move out. Typically, the youngest son marries last. He inherits the family home and takes care of his elderly parents. If there are no children, a rare occurrence in Muslim families, given that the Quran permits up to four wives, the house passes to the nearest relative. In other words, if a plot of land was purchased, it remains in the family forever.

Naturally, the old town lacks modern amenities. When the residents tried to modernize their homes by running pipes through the ancient walls and festooning the buildings with satellite dishes, the authorities acted wisely. They offered everyone free housing, solely to preserve the old town just as it was for centuries. At the same time, no one was stripped of their property in the old town.

In Ghadames, men and women did not mingle. The ground floor was reserved for men. Here, they could conduct business, walk along the streets, or sit in the company of other men. The middle floors of the houses were for the entire family, while the upper levels and rooftops were exclusively for women. There, hidden from the sight of men, they could attend to their household chores or slip over to a neighbor’s roof to share some gossip.

We spent quite a while wandering through the narrow streets of Ghadames where our local guide who spoke good English told us many fascinating details about life in the oasis, for instance, how the water distribution system for irrigation functioned. Completely exhausted but thoroughly content, we headed back to the hotel to rest.

After dinner, we got into the vehicles again and headed into the desert. Having already visited the Algerian Sahara and the Namib Desert in Angola, I didn’t find this fringe of the desert near Ghadames particularly impressive by comparison.

Still, it was lovely to sit by the campfire. There was nothing around but the desert, the pitch-black night, and bright stars overhead, and the rest of the world simply ceased to matter. It could have vanished entirely, along with all its worries, for all I cared. However, the tea was drunk, the flatbreads eaten, and the campfire extinguished. It was time to head back to the hotel. On the following morning, we would return to Tripoli.