Trip to Al Ula

My colleague, Heather, and I were supposed to go to a wedding in Hyderabad, India that week in January 2022. However, COVID was still very much on the national consciousness and rumors were flying that if we went to India, we were not going to be able to return to Saudi. A year earlier, Heather and I were among the first 60,000 or so women to have received our Saudi driver’s licenses. It was time to put the licenses to better use than just our daily commute between Khobar and Dammam. (Licenses for women became possible on June 24, 2018.) There is much in Saudi we hadn’t seen yet, and of all potential destinations, Al Ula seemed the most doable to drive to during our January break.

I am no stranger to long car trips, but this trip felt intimidating. I would be alone for the first four hours of the journey – from Khobar to Riyadh. Heather and I would meet up in Riyadh and then head to Al Ula via Routes 65 and 70, through Buraydah and Hail. Although no one we knew had driven to Al Ula that did not keep anyone from dispensing advice. “Stop for gas, EVERY TIME you see a gas station.” “Make sure you wear your abayas when going through small towns.” “Call me if you have a problem, I know people who can help.” Our friends seemed as excited as we were about the trip. When Heather and I started driving in Saudi, in January 2021, it was rare to see women drivers on the road. A year later, women on the road were much more common; but a journey of this sort – 1400 km through the desert was (and probably still is) an unusual experience for both Saudis and especially two expat women.

The road from Khobar to Riyadh is well-traveled and it was an uneventful trip to meet Heather to start our ten-hour (1045 KM) drive to the southernmost tip of the Nabatean Empire. Leaving Riyadh in the rear-view window; Dakar rally-car sightings, the ever-changing desert landscapes, camels and camel crossings, the ubiquitous Saudi-themed statues at the entrance to small towns, and a quick lunch at McDonalds in Hail kept us amused throughout the journey. Cars passing us on the road rarely gave us a second look. We found ourselves stopping about every two hours to refuel the car and here is where we received some attention. Gas stations in Saudi almost always host a mosque, restrooms, a bakala (small shop), and a restaurant. Small children in parked cars would hang out the car window – sometimes trying out their English, but often just staring, mouths open. A woman wearing niqab (face covering) smiled at us with her eyes and then shyly asked in English what we were doing. Her eyes beamed when we said we were driving to Al Ula and she welcomed us. Men appeared unsure of what to do when we were in line at the bakala. Should they ignore us and push ahead of us? Or be solicitous and offer us lots of space?

When we finally arrived at what the map app claimed was our final destination, we were quickly besieged by a troupe of children asking if we were crazy. We were unsure if they were asking because we were two Western women driving a car or if those were the only English words they knew. Their father showed us where Google Maps had failed us, and we quickly settled into our true destination. Rural Tents offered a close facsimile to a Bedu tent but was outfitted with electricity, comfy twin beds, heaters, carpets, tea kettle, and a coffee maker.

In order to preserve Al Ula’s antiquities, the Royal Commission restricts each heritage site to 600 visitors a day. Heather plotted our daily excursions to keep us interested and busy, but with a modicum of free time built into each day. The morning of our first day found us exploring the ruins of Dadan and Liyhan, the Lion Tombs, and ancient petroglyphs (inscriptions at Jebel Ikmah). We decided to have lunch at Otka, which Google Maps said was 30 minutes away, despite looking like it was just up the road. It turns out that Otka was at the top of the steepest, curviest mountain ever (and I’m used to driving in the Adirondacks and Catskills). Upon arrival at Otka, the maître de looked at us skeptically and asked if we had a reservation. We looked around the empty pop-up restaurant, slowly shaking our heads “no.” We ended up eating at the bar, learning the next day why he was so reluctant to let us in. After an afternoon of touring Hegra and some of its 110 tombs, we finished the night with shisha in front of our tent, watching the same stars the Nabateans observed 2,000 years ago.

After breakfast the next day in Old Town, we drove out to see Elephant Rock. Unfortunately, the sand outside the rock is less packed down than one might imagine with so many visitors…. And with other tourists standing in the way, it is completely possible to get stuck in the sand. However, the Special Forces are always nearby and ready to pull you out.

We drove into the town of Al Ula looking for something to explore while we waited for our tour of the Castle and Old Town Al Ula. And there it was – a souq. The souq from a distance appeared a little off. Old Saudi hands know what a souq should look like. Vegetables displayed with vegetables, cooking oil with cooking oil, random stuff with random stuff and never the twain shall meet. This, in contrast, had cooking pots stocked next to oil, next to vegetables, next to random stuff. It was also incredibly neat and tidy. We parked and walked over. Meanwhile, Heather noticed the Nesma Film Truck…. And I saw the cameras and the guy with the clipboard who came over to quickly shuffle us out of the “souq.” We had wandered onto the film set of “Kandahar” starring Gerard Butler. He was the reason Otka didn’t want the likes of us at the restaurant the day before – he and his group had a reservation for two hours after our arrival.

Old Town Al Ula is in the process of being restored and preserved. The castle, high above the city, offers a magnificent view of the city and surrounding date farms. Restaurants and shops line one of the streets and here is where Heather and I had our final dinner. Sitting at the restaurant in our abayas, we were agog to see a parade of cruise-ship tourists coming down the street. It amused us that we were more flabbergasted by the tourists in shorts and wearing ghutras as sarongs or scarves than the local shop owners and restauranteurs were. Tourism really is coming to Arabia.

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