The turn to Mosul is on the left. It is blocked off, only the military are allowed to use it now since ISIS took the city in June 2014.

There re tankers everywhere on the road from Erbil to Duhok.

The journey from Erbil to Duhok takes about two-and-a-half hours, depending on the number of checkpoints. This time I think we went through four. There can be as many as ten, depending on the security situation. Only at the first did we have to display our passports. We are not who they are looking for.

We leave Erbil, looking at all the new construction underway, some pretty large buildings. The place looks bustling, not surprising in an area that has oil. But a lot of the construction has halted, waiting for the country to be stabilized, for the war to end.

The road not taken: The turnoff to Mosul.

Drivers in Iraq seem to have an unwritten and accepted set of rules. To my eyes it seemed chaotic, but it was probably closer to ballet. Lots of motion and nobody got hit. The highway varied; sometimes one, sometimes two sometimes three lanes in each direction. The concept of lanes was fluid though – the lines painted on the asphalt weren’t always what was being followed.

I would never have thought he top of hydro lies was the best place for a nest, but for these stork-like birds there is little choice – no trees in he area.

Our chauffer was aggressive. Part of the reason, if I read the signs correctly, is that the speed limit for cars is 100 kilometres per hour, but only 70 for trucks. That made for a lot of passing as there were a lot of trucks. Mostly tankers, 38,000 litres of oil in each. I’m told there is a pipeline, but I guess not where we were – it seemed like there were thousands of tankers on the road.

I grew up in Montreal, which has a reputation for crazy drivers. I can see how chaotic Montreal traffic would appear to a visitor, but Montrealais know how to drive in their city – it is no big deal.

When I have visited New York City, whose drivers have a reputation similar to Montreal’s, driving didn’t seem especially difficult. And the first time I was pulling a trailer, which is not something I am used to doing. That, I will admit, made parking a little challenging.

When we lived in Liberia I relearned how to drive. There weren’t many paved roads, and during rainy season it was like diving in a Canadian winter – very slippery on the mud. What I had to learn though was to use my horn constantly. Many of the vehicles didn’t have rear or side view mirrors; drivers tended to ignore anyone they didn’t hear.

Roadside shops.

When traveling I have generally avoided getting behind the wheel of a car. Let someone else have that stress, I’ll just enjoy the scenery. So I haven’t driven on the left side of the road in the U.K., raced the Autobahn in Germany, experienced the bumper car rally that is Naples or tried to figure out the impossibility of Istanbul’s twisted streets.

Driving in Iraq looks like it would be challenging, but you can adjust to anything, in theory anyway. It is not the driving that would keep me from getting behind the wheel here though, it is that I can’t read the Arabic on the street signs and would be sure to get lost.

As we travel from Erbil to Duhok the road to Mosul is clearly marked. But other routes are not. This is one place where I don’t want to take the chance of taking a wrong turn and getting lost. Just a few kilometres away is a group of people who call themselves ISIS. They don’t like western tourists. I won’t be going down that road.