Saudi Uncharted
The Saudi context has stripped itself from reality. Most of the truths people have lived by in the Kingdom have been overhauled overnight — and they are tasked with defining new norms. Some have drawn parallels to the Wild West — a state of lawlessness, ambiguity and experimentation. This transitory space is equally terrifying and enthralling; keep the wild, drop the west. In an attempt to make sense of this changing landscape, travelling through these uncharted territories might offer the best passageway for understanding.
Saudi tourism crescendoed in late summer of 2019, with the stellar #whereintheworld campaign to mark the launch of the first ever tourist e-Visas. Prior to this, domestic tourism was seldom explored. Communication was needed about what was out there, infrastructure to get people there, and education about the need to go there. Today, the landscape is being pieced together at rapid rates and scales — where the journeys of travelers are crafting the story and shifting the narrative. The only requirements are a sense of adventure and an open awareness.
In preparation for my first Saudi weekender, I needed a farwa for warmth. A few weeks prior to my trip, I met a guy at MDL Beast with a really strong farwa game. I danced my way to him, complimenting him on his sartorial sense. Our conversation and chemistry had legs that led us to Souq Al Zal in old Riyadh. He picked me up between Maghrib and Isha prayer — because that’s how time is framed in this country — we shopped around, drank some sugarcane juice and visited Al Masmak Fort. Six months prior to this encounter, I would’ve never been out with a man who isn’t my father, nor my non-existent brother or husband; let alone dive into the eye of the storm, the old headquarters of the religious police. This is the Saudi context that has stripped itself from reality.
Much of the tourism across Saudi has functioned under state-led activations, experiences, festivals and “Seasons”. For a country undergoing a massive transformation — with tourism as one of the leading industries — this path makes sense for turbo-charging of the landscape — but seems unsustainable in the long-run; a game of one-upmanship from regional Season to Season. This fly-in-fly-out entertainment approach to tourism can also be detrimental to the local economies being “activated” for a set period, as opposed to a longer-term investment in the local economy. What would community-led, sustainable tourism that starts and ends with the locals look and feel like? Both locally and globally, there are prime examples of such tourism, with awe-inspiring potential.
In early January, I made a pillowy landing into Al Ula — an endless red desert in the north-west of the country — engulfed with sandstone rocks, dotted with palm oases and populated with locals waiting to greet you. Al Ula’s historical significance dates back to 6th Century AD — from the Dedanites and Nabateans, to Islamic and Ottoman times. These historical civilizations come alive through remnants of tombs, rock art and abandoned structures. As Saudi’s first UNESCO World Heritage Site, and the consequential establishment of the Royal Commission for Al Ula — there is still much to be unearthed and preserved.
Surrealism and ambiguity reign in Al Ula. The Winter at Tantora festival has pulled in international artists, Michelin-starred restaurants, equestrian shows and hot air balloons. Maybe this is the ultimate symbol of Saudi luxury — ostentatious and natural, all at once. Yet, with much of the logistical information and future plans locked in a black box — a visitor’s trust in the unknown is key for surviving the Saudi landscape. Life postseason closing is unclear; but the effort and magnitude are clear as day.
In vintage Land Rovers, we drove into the depths of the desert; humbled by the lonely rock formations, standing grandly under the beaming sun. On a half-day excursion, we hiked, did a short breathwork exercise, connected with local guides and bashed around in dune buggies. As I rode in the passenger seat next to Bandar — an adventurer par excellence — each dusty inhale felt expansive. I was falling in love with this place and its people. I was merely following the footsteps of romantics that predated me — namely the Najdi poet Qays Ibn-Al Mullawah — who inscribed his poetry on rocks, to his unrequited love, Layla. As Gill Charlton said, “Al Ula is wrapped in the seductive silence of the desert and the romance of travel.”
Our desire for exploration continued east, west and south of the Kingdom. On a train ride from Riyadh to Alhasa (Eastern Province) — I turned to my sister Reem, and asked “should we be concerned that we’re two women hosted by a Saudi man we’ve only met once in Svalbard (Arctic Circle)?” She looked at me quizzically, raised her eyebrows and shrugged. Guided by our intuition, we found ourselves in the hands of a young, passionate and personable man, Mohammad — with no visibility on our weekend schedule, other than knowing it was bound to be epic. We spent every waking hour together; driving through the 2.5 million palm trees, munching on date bread, taking humorous jabs at each other. In a matter of 36 hours — we went from acquaintances, dancing around with the idea of working together; to dreaming up experiences framed by limitless thinking. Over the span of a weekend, Reem, Mohammad and I, went from a distant hello in the lobby, to hearty goodbye hugs in the parking lot. This is revolutionary in itself.
Since the early 1980s, the Kingdom went through a period of religious conservatism — with gender segregation as a key societal characteristic. Though public spaces were accessible by all; men reigned the streets, while women were more constrained in their mobility. With Vision 2030 — the country’s transformation program — women have taken the wheel, (wo)manned checkout counters and taken up space on dancefloors. Simply put, the men and women of this country are in the throes negotiating their interactions in public spaces.
Fast forward a few weeks, Reem and I made our way to the coastal town of Jeddah — speculatively translated as the grandmother of the Kingdom. As a port city, Jeddah has long been an eternal pitstop for traders and pilgrims; both immigrants and locals have created a social fabric that is incredibly diverse and vibrant. The urban character is most strongly felt in Al Balad (Old Jeddah) — another UNESCO World Heritage Site — with 400 year old homes undergoing restoration and preservation, led by the Ministry of Culture. The magic of the city is most strongly felt during sunset prayer, with over 30 mosques calling for prayer in messy unison. Perched on the rooftop of Beit Nassif, we were silenced by the city’s spirituality.
Next stop on our journey was Asir — a mountainous region in the south; rich with art and culture. Again, we were greeted by another Mohammad — donning his Emirati “Issamah” (turban) and black thobe. We were welcomed a thousand times over (مرحباً ألف) with Mohammad’s breadth and depth of regional knowledge, spanning across time and space. Our first stop was Alia’s Cave — an inlet with over 4000 year old inscriptions that Mohammad found the coordinates for in a research paper. Go figure.
For dinner, we made our way to Abu and Umm Khaled’s home museum and studio. Umm Khaled (Fatima), is a renowned Al Qatt artist, who has showcased her work around the world, and has taught over 400 girls the skills to keep this art alive. Sitting in their home, sipping on coffee and tea, nibbling on dates and honeycombs — Abu Khaled (Ali) likened his sense of hospitality to the expansiveness of his heart. The nuances of their generosity are apparent through physical gestures, age-old sayings and insistence on feeding you more. Wrapped up in the warmth of their kindness, I felt a strong sense of familiarity — though on the outset, the setup was completely different to anything I’ve known. Ali’s command of the Arabic language brought me to tears; a philosopher, a radical thinker — unfiltered in his thought — he leaves much room for reflection and contemplation. I’d spent 3 hours in their company, and was already yearning for more.
The overwhelming generosity of Saudis is humbling. This is a confirmation that beyond the places to be explored, it’s the people who are waiting to welcome you into their hearts and homes. Famed Saudi singer Mohammad Abdo got it right; “الأماكن كلها مشتاقة لك — all of the places yearn for you”. I’ll continue my explorations throughout Saudi with my rose-tinted glasses — because after all, I am a romantic that approaches the world with a sense of curiosity, playfulness and love.
As my sister and I set up our vehicle for Saudi exploration, we’ll be waiting to welcome you home.
