By Sarah Bennett, Texas, USA
February 2025
Planned and Organised by Midasia Routes
Before setting foot in Iraq, I carried the weight of every headline, every story that painted the country with fear and uncertainty.
But from the moment I arrived, wrapped in the warm embrace of Midasia Routes' care, every doubt dissolved.
Walking the ancient streets of Baghdad, exploring sacred cities like Karbala and Najaf, hiking in the mountains of Kurdistan — I felt safer than I often do back home in Vancouver.
Every corner revealed not danger, but hospitality beyond words, smiles that welcomed you without needing translation, and a peace that seemed stitched into the very soil of Mesopotamia.
When my plane touched down in Baghdad, I expected tight security and stern faces.
Instead, I was welcomed like a dear friend.
Ahmed, my guide, met me right at the gate, holding a sign with my name and a grin that could melt mountains.
"You are home now," he said — words I didn’t realize would become a feeling by the end of the trip.
With ease, I was fast-tracked through immigration, my luggage carried with care, and whisked into a sleek, comfortable SUV filled with small comforts: fresh water, dates, and the soft scent of oud.
The hotel — elegant, luxurious — was far beyond my expectations, a serene oasis in the heart of the legendary city.
The days that followed were a dance between the ancient and the eternal.
In Karbala, standing before the shrine of Imam Hussain, I felt time collapse.
Golden domes shimmered under the afternoon sun; pilgrims, many weeping softly, moved in endless devotion.
In Najaf, the Shrine of Imam Ali glowed like a beacon of faith.
A local family, seeing my awe, invited me for tea in their courtyard — simple, strong black tea, and an afternoon of laughter and heartfelt connection.
These were not just visits. They were pilgrimages of the soul.
One morning, we drove toward the ruins of Babylon.
Walking through the reconstructed Ishtar Gate, I imagined the clatter of ancient processions and the roar of distant battles.
I traced my fingers over bricks that had felt the touch of kings and poets, and realized history wasn’t something you read about here — it was alive.
Nearby, a farmer offered me fresh pomegranates, the sweetest I had ever tasted.
It was these simple moments — unplanned, raw, pure — that filled my heart.
The Mesopotamian Marshes were a world unto themselves.
As we glided in narrow boats through endless stretches of reeds, I marveled at the way water mirrored the sky.
Fishermen waved from reed houses; water buffalo grazed lazily.
We stopped at a floating café, sipping sweet tea on a platform made entirely of reeds, as dragonflies danced above the water.
It felt like floating not just through a marsh, but through a forgotten chapter of paradise.
A short flight carried me north into Erbil — and with it, into a whole new heartbeat of Iraq.
The ancient Citadel of Erbil rose above the city, a crown of time overlooking bustling bazaars filled with spices, silks, and the laughter of Kurdish families.
Driving into the mountains, I saw landscapes that stole my breath: Rawanduz Canyon, where sheer cliffs kissed the clouds, and the Hamilton Road, an engineering marvel cutting through dramatic gorges.
In tiny villages, children ran to greet me with wildflowers and shy giggles, their joy so infectious I found myself laughing alongside them.
In Lalish, the holiest place for the Yazidis, I removed my shoes and walked barefoot on ancient stones polished smooth by centuries of prayers.
The olive oil lamps flickered in cool caves, casting a soft, sacred glow.
It was a place that demanded silence — not out of fear, but reverence.
A Yazidi elder gently placed his hand on my heart and said, "You are always welcome here."
I carried his blessing with me like a precious jewel.
In Sulaymaniyah, Iraq’s cultural capital, I found modernity and memory intertwined.
We visited Amna Suraka, the Red Prison — a somber museum preserving the scars of tyranny.
Walking through its bullet-riddled walls was gut-wrenching, but vital — a tribute to resilience.
That night, over Kurdish dishes and the haunting sound of the daf drum, we shared stories with young Iraqis — poets, musicians, dreamers — who believe fiercely in a brighter tomorrow.
Their hope lit up the night brighter than any city lights.
As I boarded my flight home, I realized I wasn’t just leaving a place behind — I was leaving a part of myself behind.
Iraq, with all her tenderness, majesty, and depth, had embraced me completely.
Midasia Routes didn’t just organize a trip.
They orchestrated a symphony of history, humanity, and heart.
To anyone who wonders whether Iraq is safe, whether it's worth the journey — my answer is simple: it will be one of the richest, most soul-stirring experiences of your life.
I arrived curious.
I left changed.
Thank you, Iraq. Thank you, Midasia Routes. You gave me the gift of a lifetime.
Join Our Expertly Curated Iraq Micro-Journeys
Crafted for travelers who seek luxury, comfort, and real authenticity, our journeys offer intimate cultural encounters and unforgettable experiences.
👉 See Our Iraq Journeys Here