Karbala

Karbala runs on a single axis: Bayn al-Haramayn, the few hundred metres of polished marble between the golden-domed shrine of Imam Husayn and the shrine of his brother Abbas. Come at dusk, when the stone has cooled and the floodlights come on, and you will walk among families from Lagos, Lucknow and Qom, attendants spraying rosewater, volunteers pressing glasses of cardamom tea into your hands. Inside, mirror-mosaic ceilings scatter the light into thousands of pieces, and the recitation around the tomb never quite stops. Non-Muslim visitors are welcomed if dressed respectfully — women wear a full abaya (shops by the gates sell them for a few dollars), men long trousers and sleeves. Beyond the shrines there is a real city: date orchards fed by the Husayniyya canal, cauldrons of qeema stew shared in the streets during Muharram, and, an hour southwest across open desert, the eighth-century Abbasid fortress of Al-Ukhaidir — where you will often be the only visitors at all.