So there I was in Al Ula. A little town hidden in a strange landscape of yellowisch desert, dotted with sharp contoured rocky outcrops, some of them several hundred meters high. It doesn't matter if you are an expat or a traveller in the Kingdom, this is the one thing you need to visit. Al Ula itself is a small 'twelve-in-a-dozen' sleepy Arabian town. Different to other Saudi towns, is that its original core has been preserved. Or better is still there. A minimal effort has been done to clean up a couple of small streets in the maze created by the small traditional mudhouses. The rest of the old town is just delivered to the elements. The ever blowing wind and the occasional rains ensure that the houses are slowly reduced to the original building materials used to erect them.
Ashes to Ashes, dust to dust. Amen, oh no Blasphemy, Ins'Allah.
Before climbing the fort that towers above the tiny ancient settlement I wondered around the small streets for half an hour, unable to grasp its long gone soucq activity. From the tower looking down to where I just was, I took a picture. Later that day I was glad to note that that picture captured the enclosed feeling I experienced, wanderering through the deserted alleys. The frame is fully filled with the contours of the little one-room roofless houses, there is no horizon, reflecting the disorientated feeling you feel in the midst of that ghost town.
That could not be said about the Mada'In Saleh site. This historical site (the real reason to come out to Al Ula) is a vast area (plenty of horizon here) just 20 km to the North of Al Ula. Here the Nabataeans have carved over a hundred graves and tombs out of the solid sandstone rocks. The permit was carefully inspected before I was granted admission, free of charge. Because the site is so big you just enter with your own vehicle, in my case an orange motorcycle. I felt a bit as a king entering a foreign country, with my personal police in my tracks (yes yes, later that day he would even follow me to the supermarket). You enter and there is sand, dirt tracks and rocks, big rocks and although you know more or less what you will see, the first sight of a tomb is an experience. The Nabataeans also built Petra in Jordan. The Saudi 'Petra' is not as grand and impressive as Petra (I have been told, I am still on my way to see Petra), but it is a marvel. The tomb facades are all relatively simple, all designed in pretty much the same way. Their size and the setting made a stronger impression on me. Going around on the dirt tracks in the soft evening light I admired the tombs from a distance and tried to fill the empty landscape (yes no other tourists there, try to experience that, visiting Petra...) with the activity, sounds and smells of the vanished Nabataean society. The Nabataens are a rather obsure people (to me anyway) that were masters in desert survival and cunning traders. Mada'In Saleh was founded at the crossroads of important trade routes going from Africa, through Yemen and Saudi to Egypt, Jordan and Syria. Precious spices, mire, gold, frankincense and even slaves were transported on these trading routes. The Nabataeans would, at the height of their power, control every aspect of this trade. Taxes, transport caravans, protection...it was all in the hands of the Nabataeans. It is said that they developed the art of carving rock through a technique of water storage in this dry and harsh environment (and believe me it is dry and hot, AC is not an option on my bike). The Nabataeans preferred to retreat in the desert, rather than fight enemy armies. Because the invading armies lacked the necessary survival skills the Nabataeans would be safe. One of the means of survival the Nabataens developed, was to hollow out rocky outcrops from the surface down, creating subterrain reservoirs. These would be filled with rainwater and carefully closed so, unless you would know (as they did) what you were looking for, they would never be discovered. Later on they used their carving skills to create monumental tombs to honour their death. Nonetheless at some point the Nabataeans vanished (I have not the 'Paul Theroux' patience nor the intellect to find out what happened to them), but not before leaving two spectacular sites for future generations.
The next day I returned to climb one of the mountains surrounding the graves and just sat there until a sandstorm shooed me away. Who said there is nothing to admire in the Kingdom?
Back in the hotel I met a Dutch couple driving a VW camper van from Bahrein to Holland (they bought taxfree in Holland, shipped it to Bahrein and were now driving it back to Holland to import it -again taxfree-, cunning cunning cunning). A couple and three kids. Respect. Having a camper van and tents, they mostly camped out. Their security escort was not to keen on that (same story on bears and wolves...), so they ended up in the hotel. However, they only rented one room, the pater familias would sleep with one of his sons in the camper parked in the hotel parking, I smiled, not everyting is lost in this world, dutchmen will be dutchmen.... I ended up receiving a shit load of information on Jordan and Syria. The father had it all sorted out, routes, places to see, places to sleep, gps way points, interesting URL's.... I felt rather lost when I had to admit that I only had some lonely planets, maps and a GPS, which I don't even know how to operate (well I can switch it on and tell the rescue helicopter the coordinates so they can pick me up, handy no?).
There are just a trillion ways to travel, but only one freedom to choose.
Ashes to Ashes, dust to dust. Amen, oh no Blasphemy, Ins'Allah.
Before climbing the fort that towers above the tiny ancient settlement I wondered around the small streets for half an hour, unable to grasp its long gone soucq activity. From the tower looking down to where I just was, I took a picture. Later that day I was glad to note that that picture captured the enclosed feeling I experienced, wanderering through the deserted alleys. The frame is fully filled with the contours of the little one-room roofless houses, there is no horizon, reflecting the disorientated feeling you feel in the midst of that ghost town.
That could not be said about the Mada'In Saleh site. This historical site (the real reason to come out to Al Ula) is a vast area (plenty of horizon here) just 20 km to the North of Al Ula. Here the Nabataeans have carved over a hundred graves and tombs out of the solid sandstone rocks. The permit was carefully inspected before I was granted admission, free of charge. Because the site is so big you just enter with your own vehicle, in my case an orange motorcycle. I felt a bit as a king entering a foreign country, with my personal police in my tracks (yes yes, later that day he would even follow me to the supermarket). You enter and there is sand, dirt tracks and rocks, big rocks and although you know more or less what you will see, the first sight of a tomb is an experience. The Nabataeans also built Petra in Jordan. The Saudi 'Petra' is not as grand and impressive as Petra (I have been told, I am still on my way to see Petra), but it is a marvel. The tomb facades are all relatively simple, all designed in pretty much the same way. Their size and the setting made a stronger impression on me. Going around on the dirt tracks in the soft evening light I admired the tombs from a distance and tried to fill the empty landscape (yes no other tourists there, try to experience that, visiting Petra...) with the activity, sounds and smells of the vanished Nabataean society. The Nabataens are a rather obsure people (to me anyway) that were masters in desert survival and cunning traders. Mada'In Saleh was founded at the crossroads of important trade routes going from Africa, through Yemen and Saudi to Egypt, Jordan and Syria. Precious spices, mire, gold, frankincense and even slaves were transported on these trading routes. The Nabataeans would, at the height of their power, control every aspect of this trade. Taxes, transport caravans, protection...it was all in the hands of the Nabataeans. It is said that they developed the art of carving rock through a technique of water storage in this dry and harsh environment (and believe me it is dry and hot, AC is not an option on my bike). The Nabataeans preferred to retreat in the desert, rather than fight enemy armies. Because the invading armies lacked the necessary survival skills the Nabataeans would be safe. One of the means of survival the Nabataens developed, was to hollow out rocky outcrops from the surface down, creating subterrain reservoirs. These would be filled with rainwater and carefully closed so, unless you would know (as they did) what you were looking for, they would never be discovered. Later on they used their carving skills to create monumental tombs to honour their death. Nonetheless at some point the Nabataeans vanished (I have not the 'Paul Theroux' patience nor the intellect to find out what happened to them), but not before leaving two spectacular sites for future generations.
The next day I returned to climb one of the mountains surrounding the graves and just sat there until a sandstorm shooed me away. Who said there is nothing to admire in the Kingdom?
Back in the hotel I met a Dutch couple driving a VW camper van from Bahrein to Holland (they bought taxfree in Holland, shipped it to Bahrein and were now driving it back to Holland to import it -again taxfree-, cunning cunning cunning). A couple and three kids. Respect. Having a camper van and tents, they mostly camped out. Their security escort was not to keen on that (same story on bears and wolves...), so they ended up in the hotel. However, they only rented one room, the pater familias would sleep with one of his sons in the camper parked in the hotel parking, I smiled, not everyting is lost in this world, dutchmen will be dutchmen.... I ended up receiving a shit load of information on Jordan and Syria. The father had it all sorted out, routes, places to see, places to sleep, gps way points, interesting URL's.... I felt rather lost when I had to admit that I only had some lonely planets, maps and a GPS, which I don't even know how to operate (well I can switch it on and tell the rescue helicopter the coordinates so they can pick me up, handy no?).
There are just a trillion ways to travel, but only one freedom to choose.
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