Crusader Castles to Ottoman Hammams: Tripoli's 1,000 Years of History

My fascination with Tripoli began where most visitors should start their journey—at the imposing Citadel of Raymond de Saint-Gilles, perched dramatically on a hill overlooking the city. Built in 1103 during the First Crusade, this fortress tells the story of the complex power struggles that defined the medieval Mediterranean.

The citadel's massive walls rise from the hillside like an extension of the earth itself, with later Ottoman modifications seamlessly integrated into the Crusader architecture. What struck me most was how the fortress design reveals the cultural exchange that occurred even during times of conflict—Arab military architectural influences are evident in the defensive innovations added by European crusaders.

During my visit last spring, I spent a full morning exploring the labyrinthine corridors and climbing to various vantage points. Each turn revealed another layer of history—a Mamluk inscription here, a repurposed Byzantine column there. I recommend bringing a good travel journal to sketch architectural details that catch your eye. My own is filled with drawings of the unique arrow slits and defensive positions that made this fortress nearly impregnable.

The entrance fee (about 10,000 LBP/~$6.50 USD for students) is nominal compared to similar sites across Europe, and the relative lack of crowds means you can actually hear the whispers of history without being jostled by tour groups. Take your time here—the panoramic views of the Mediterranean coastline and Tripoli's old city from the upper ramparts are worth lingering over.

After the Crusaders were expelled in the late 13th century, Tripoli fell under Mamluk rule, ushering in one of the city's most architecturally significant periods. The Mamluks relocated the city inland from its original port location and established what is now Tripoli's enchanting old city, Al-Mina.

My architectural background drew me immediately to the cluster of madrasas (Islamic schools) near the Great Mosque. The Madrasa al-Qartawiyya, with its striking black and white stone alternation (ablaq) and intricate muqarnas (stalactite-like decorative vaulting), exemplifies the sophisticated Mamluk architectural style that spread throughout their empire.

What makes Tripoli exceptional is that these buildings aren't museums—they're living history. Walking through the old city, I watched artisans practicing traditional crafts in workshops housed in centuries-old buildings. The Madrasa al-Nuriyya still functions as a place of learning, though now offering different subjects than its medieval curriculum.

I spent an entire afternoon meandering between these architectural masterpieces, my compact binoculars allowing me to study the detailed calligraphy and geometric patterns adorning the higher reaches of these structures. These binoculars have become an essential part of my architectural exploration kit, revealing details that would otherwise remain hidden to the naked eye.

The concentration of Mamluk monuments in Tripoli is unparalleled in Lebanon and rivals collections in Cairo and Damascus. For students of Islamic art and architecture, this compact area provides an open-air classroom spanning several centuries of artistic evolution.

Perhaps my most memorable experience in Tripoli was visiting Hammam al-Jadid, one of the best-preserved Ottoman bathhouses in the Levant. Built in 1740, this hammam operated continuously until the late 20th century and has now been beautifully restored as a cultural center.

The transition from the busy market streets into the cool, domed chambers of the hammam is transportive. Light filters through star-shaped cutouts in the ceiling, creating ethereal patterns across the marble floors. The central bathing hall, with its octagonal washing platform and surrounding niches, speaks to the sophisticated understanding of both architecture and human comfort that Ottoman builders possessed.

What makes these hammams architectural marvels isn't just their beauty but their functionality. The ingenious heating systems—with hot water and steam circulating beneath floors and between walls—showcase advanced engineering that predates modern heating systems by centuries.

While Hammam al-Jadid is the most accessible to visitors, Tripoli boasts several other Ottoman bathhouses in various states of preservation. Hammam Izz al-Din (dating to the 1290s but renovated during Ottoman rule) and Hammam al-Nouri offer glimpses into how these social institutions evolved over time.

I spent an afternoon sketching the transition spaces between the hammam's cold, warm, and hot rooms, fascinated by how the architects used subtle changes in ceiling height and light to create distinct atmospheric zones. If you're interested in architectural drawing, I highly recommend bringing a watercolor travel set to capture the play of light and shadow that makes these spaces so magical.

Transitioning from medieval to more recent history, Tripoli's Al-Tall Square (Place de l'Étoile) represents the Ottoman Empire's late attempts at modernization. The square's centerpiece—a magnificent clock tower built in 1901 to celebrate Sultan Abdul Hamid II's 25th year in power—stands as a testament to the architectural evolution of the city.

What fascinated me about this area is how it represents the Ottoman Empire's embrace of European urban planning concepts. The radiating streets, reminiscent of Haussmann's Paris designs, create an interesting counterpoint to the organic layout of the older medina nearby. This juxtaposition perfectly encapsulates the empire's struggle between tradition and modernization in its final decades.

The square comes alive in the early evening when local families promenade around the clock tower and enjoy ice cream from nearby shops. I spent several evenings here people-watching and sketching the eclectic mix of Ottoman and colonial-era buildings that frame the square.

Nearby, don't miss the Ottoman military barracks (now repurposed as government buildings) and the elegant 19th-century mosques that showcase the empire's later architectural style—a fascinating blend of traditional Islamic elements with European Baroque influences.

As the sun sets, the clock tower is beautifully illuminated, creating perfect photo opportunities. My travel tripod proved invaluable for capturing low-light shots of the square without blur. It's compact enough to carry all day but sturdy enough for long exposures that capture the magical quality of the square after dark.

No historical exploration of Tripoli would be complete without diving into its atmospheric souks (traditional markets), which have retained their medieval layout and function. Unlike the more tourist-oriented souks in other Middle Eastern cities, Tripoli's markets primarily serve locals, giving you an authentic glimpse into daily life that has continued largely unchanged for centuries.

The organization of Tripoli's souks follows the traditional Islamic city model, with specific areas dedicated to different trades and crafts. The Khan al-Saboun (Soap Khan) particularly captured my attention—this 17th-century caravanserai where traders would historically stay with their goods now houses workshops producing Tripoli's famous olive oil soaps. The vaulted stone architecture creates natural temperature regulation, demonstrating the environmental wisdom embedded in traditional building techniques.

As an investor in sustainable tourism ventures, I was impressed by the continuity of traditional crafts here. In the Souk al-Nahhasin (Coppersmith Market), artisans still hammer intricate patterns into metal using techniques passed down through generations. The rhythmic clanging echoes through the vaulted passageways, creating a soundscape that has remained unchanged for centuries.

For architecture enthusiasts, the souks offer a masterclass in vernacular building techniques. Notice how light filters through the ingenious ventilation systems, how the slightly raised thresholds prevent rainwater from entering shops, and how the stone construction maintains comfortable temperatures despite external weather conditions.

I spent hours wandering these labyrinthine passageways, photographing architectural details and collecting small treasures—handcrafted copper items, traditional olive oil soaps, and local sweets. My crossbody travel bag kept my camera and valuables secure while leaving my hands free to examine craftwork and take notes on architectural features.