James Merriman
James Merriman
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Published on 04 Oct 2025 | 3 min read

My friends looked at me with complete bewilderment. “Why did you go there?” “Was it safe?” “What did you do?” I am referring to a last minute trip to Erbil in Iraq.

Erbil airport is surprisingly clean and modern. Even the immigration officials seemed to be delighted to personally welcome the only Brit arriving from Amman on that hot and sunny Monday afternoon. A polite and swift process followed by a polite “Shukran” and I’m officially in.

My hotel arranged a taxi for my arrival. I was greeted with a sign holding my name which was held by a scary looking taxi driver. He was I guess late 40s with a thick moustache and heavy stubble. I did my best to break the ice with my limited knowledge of Arabic.

“Marhaba. Hello. James” I said.

“Salaam. Welcome. Ali my name” was the response.

The ice was successfully shattered.

Ali’s taxi was, my Middle Eastern standards, in one piece. The car was modern, the interior not stained by smoke and the air conditioning actually worked. The 30 minute journey into town was going very smoothly until Ali decides to stop the car in a lay-by within the suburbs of Erbil.

“One minute” he says to me.

I begin to get a little suspicious and look at my phones GPS.

Too far to walk and no other taxis around. What should I do?

Ali returns about 5 minutes later holding a plastic bag which I then presumed was his lunch.

“Welcome to Erbil” he says with great pride as he hands me the bag. He bought me lunch. And what an excellent lunch it was. Quite possibly the nicest lamb kebab I’ve ever had. The meat was moist but not fatty, the salad plentiful but not overpowering and the bread, freshly made I reckon, was delicious. Ali even bought me a can of soft drink. This is without a doubt the best taxi driver I’ve ever experienced abroad. He even refused an extra tip.

Erbil city centreThe gratitude of the local people doesn’t stop there. Trying to read the menus in the takeaway eateries in the centre of Erbil was proving very difficult. One restaurant was preparing fresh falafel. In my ignorance I simply pointed at the oil and raised one finger to indicate I wanted to try one. Seconds later, not only did I receive a complete falafel wrap, I also received a yoghurt drink. Attempting to give some Dinar was pointless as the kind restaurant owner simply replied “Thank you for visiting Kurdistan”.

The kindness and the sincerity of the Kurdish people in Iraq is heart warming. It’s definitely a local encounter I’ll never forget.

Erbil citadel

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