‘The Travels of Ibn Battuta to Central Asia’

Whatever the aim, a gap year takes money. If your parents can't sponsor you, then you need to raise your own finances. Sadly, a lot of young people's enthusiastic dreams of a full year spent traveling in Africa or Asia turn into a reality of eight or nine months serving at tables in a restaurant near their home or working at the check-out of a supermarket in Britain, and sadly, low wages means they only save enough money for a two-month trip around Europe. Nevertheless, the experience is one that helps them mature, widens their horizons and gives them a taste for what life may be like after university, encouraging them to work harder at their studies.

The idea of a gap year was not so prevalent when I was in my late teens. In my class at university there was only one student who had been on a gap year -- although it would be more accurate to have called it a gap three years. We looked up to Pete, in a way, because not only was he that all important three years older than us, but he had had some amazing life experiences. His stories of sheep-shearing in Australia were topped only by the story of calmly sipping a drink in the lobby of a hotel in Khartoum while civil war broke out on the streets outside. Probably he wasn't really all that calm, but the trip he took certainly helped him grow and mature as a person.

One of the most famous gap year participants of recent times is Prince William, the good-looking son of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. William packed an amazing amount into a single year, including survival exercises with the Welsh Guards in Belize, working as a volunteer with Raleigh International in Chile, working on a dairy farm in the UK and visiting countries in Africa. In Belize he traded a royal bed for sleeping in a hammock. His 10-week stint in Chile involved heavy work such as constructing walkways from logs, as well as teaching English in local schools. Of course, as second in line to the British throne, William had no problems financing his gap year himself.

International travel on a wide scale has really only become possible in the last half-century. The half-century before that saw migration for economic reasons. But up until the 19th century, even traveling the length and breadth of your own country was unusual. With the exception of nomadic peoples, soldiers and explorers, most of the world's citizens never traveled more than a few miles from the place where they were born.

A famous exception in the West is Marco Polo whose “Travels” contain a fascinating account of the places he saw. But only a few decades after Marco Polo came a Muslim traveler who was to make even more extensive journeys: Ibn Battuta.

75,000 miles in 28 years

For Ibn Battuta did not just have a gap year in the 14th century: He had a gap life! He spent the vast majority of his years traveling and is the only explorer of the time who visited every single Muslim land. This amazing man covered over 75,000 miles in 28 years.

Ibn Battuta's full name is almost as long as the list of countries he visited. Born Shams al-Din Abu ‘Abdullah Muhammad ibn ‘Abdullah ibn Muhammad ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad ibn Ibrahim ibn Yusuf al-Lawati al-Tanji, as was the custom of those days, the middle section of his name gives his lineage, the last section his birthplace -- he was a Berber from Tangiers, born in 1304. The son of a middle class family, he traveled to Mecca, passing through Tunis, Alexandria, Cairo and Syria en route.

On this journey he got the travel bug. As a 14th century man he described it differently: He said he wished to see the world, to let his heart enjoy it, to see the different miracles, to listen to stories about the wonders, to acquire broad knowledge, to meet interesting people and to seek his place in life. He dreamed of far-away journeys to fairy-tale India and so went eastwards to Iraq. His long and beautiful descriptions of Najaf, Wasit and Basra cover spiritual life there. It was in Iraq that he made his decision “as far as possible, not to travel the same route twice.” Isfahan, Shiraz, Baghdad, Tabriz, Mosul, Diyarbakır, Yemen and Mogadishu -- he certainly took roundabout routes.

In 1331 he visited Anatolia, staying with members of the Akhi brotherhood in Antalya, Kayseri, Sivas, Amasya and Erzurum. From there he went to Astrakhan and Central Asia. In 1332 he traveled west again to Constantinople and then back east to Russia and the Golden Horde.

When young people these days struggle to finance a short gap year trip, how on earth did Ibn Battuta finance such a long journey? He traveled as a Muslim judge and scientist, receiving fees and gifts for the services he provided as an Islamic lawyer and Muhaddith (one who can narrate and interpret the Hadith teachings). He stayed, probably for free, in the various Sufi meeting places dotted along his route.

When he returned home in December 1355 he started to write his “Travels” -- the full title of which is “A Gift to Those Who Contemplate the Wonders of Cities and the Marvels of Traveling." Today we write diaries and blogs en route to remember what we saw and where we went. In those days of oral tradition, Ibn Battuta was able to recall in detail his years of wanderings.

This work by an Uzbek professor who is rector of the Tashkent State Institute for Oriental Studies gives us not only an overview of the travels of this famous Muslim scholar, but also presents the Arabic text and full English translation of the section of the “Travels” related to Central Asia. At first, some of Professor Ibrahimov Nema-tulla Ibrahimovich's spellings of places and names are unusual for the Western reader (Hybraltar and Tinbuktu, for example), and it took me some time to realize that items starred in the English translation are expounded on in more detail in the following chapter, but this is a superb guide to a stunning piece of 14th century literature.

Ibn Battuta's tales give us insight into both historical geography and history of a culture. His work is a heritage left for us to recreate the picture of the spiritual and cultural development of the region. In particular, he focuses on the people first and then the local sights. He tells of mosques, medreses and hospitals and of parties given in his honor. He met Mevlana and other revivalist preachers. Because he always says which Sufi zawiya he stayed in and which pious individual fed him, his “Travels” is a wonderful reference for those researching the position of Islam in the region in the 14th century. He describes in detail the Sufi dynasties, shrines in Samarkand and the split of the law into the religious law and non-religious law. He also extols the plums of Bukhara and the melons of Khwarizm. Maybe he could inspire you to take a trip there to taste them yourself?