| A couple of hours east of Tripoli along the coast stand the ruins of
Leptis Magna, an ancient Roman city. It was midsummer and on this day
the guide and I were the only ones in the city, one of the greatest
archaeological sites in the world. We sat in silence on the top row of
the amphitheater, watching the Mediterranean sparkle in the sun just a
short distance away on the other side of the chariot racetrack. Only a
wisp of smoke from a distant power station reminded us that we were
still part of the modern world.
|
The common experience for a foreigner on business in Libya is sitting
in your hotel room waiting for your phone calls to be returned. I
suspect that in some hotels there must be skeletons sitting on the beds
still waiting. My advice to anyone going to Libya on official business
is to take a very long book.
|
Alcohol consumption is prohibited in Libya so, of course, I decided
that I would really like a glass of wine. I had an appointment with the
Italian ambassador and thought that certainly, since all of the
embassies are exempt from the no-alcohol rule, he would offer me a
drink. But he didn’t! Not even a glass of Chianti!
Not long after, I was flying on an official plane to meet President
Qaddafi in Malta when the pilot announced that we were diverting to
pick up the Italian ambassador. We landed and all these Italians in
Armani suits—including the ambassador—crossed the tarmac
toward the plane. So I stood in the door and said, ‘Welcome on
board my plane, Mr. Ambassador! I’m very happy to be able to offer you
my hospitality!’ He was rather taken aback because he was the low
man on the totem pole among this group. I felt pleased to pay him back
that way. |
