“Mountaintop views are fairly good instructors. Most high points in life come quietly and can only be appreciated with clarity.” – Old Sean
A Landing Recap
This post covers my time in Abha, which is segmented by my other road trips in the region. Upon initially landing in Abha and staying at a questionable hotel, I took a road trip to the city of Najran on the Saudi-Yemini border. That blog post can be read by clicking here.
Next, I returned to Abha for a night of exploring the city. The following day, Saturday January 20th, 2024, I awoke early for a morning in Rijal Almaa, driving through mountains and sampling honey refineries. That blog post can be found by clicking here.
However, all my remaining time was spent in Abha itself. This includes hours of touring the city prior to my flight on the 20th. So know that while this article is about Abha and the surrounding region, the timescale is interspaced between a couple of days.
High Urban Fog
After spending a long day road tripping through the deserts of southern Saudi Arabia, I drove back into Abha, where darkness had finally fallen.
In many ways, this was beautiful. There are constant rolls and wisps of clouds overhead which are lit up by the city below. Colors are vibrant and there are many unique restaurants.
However, in other ways, driving in Abha at night is a trial. Saudi Arabians, bluntly put, generally aren’t good drivers. This isn’t all Saudi Arabians, but it is a sizable portion.
I believe that it’s important to understand that there’s an inverse relationship between technically skilled drivers and stringent road rules. For example, in India, everyone scoffs at traffic laws, weaving in and out of busy roads with any variation of transportation. While this is chaotic, it tends to make Indians uniquely skilled drivers with good awareness and reflexes. Their road systems might be agents of chaos, but to survive, drivers must be bold and deft.
On the sheer opposite end of the spectrum is Germany with its famed autobahn system. Generations of traffic laws and clearly-labeled roadways has resulted in a population that, while not as technically capable as the average Indian driver, nevertheless has far fewer accidents. Germany is home to a population dedicated to following traffic rules and safety laws.
Saudi Arabia, in reality, has neither. People swerve frequently. They drift idly on the road, straddling lines. It’s common for pickup trucks to blaze through. People tailgate with concerning frequency, flashing their headlights in a never-ending request for people to slide onto the shoulder of roads so they can squeeze by. Everyone strains the upper limit of speed limits, taunting speed cameras to catch them. Blinkers are non-existent. And through all of this, Saudi Arabians aren’t driving with dance-like precision. They break frequently, swoop in close to other vehicles just for fun and speed up when pedestrians cross the street.
In short, driving in Saudi Arabia is a bit of a trial. With all that being said, the country is getting noticeably better. There are more traffic cams and laws preventing cell phone use. People are developing road etiquette. Saudi Arabians have universally noted that driving is becoming easier as time goes on, with more people adhering to courtesy.
That’s all well and good. But it makes navigating a bit tricky on arrival to the country. When I returned to Abha for my first night, I let out a sigh of relief when I finally got out of my car. Traffic had ratcheted up my stress in a way desert driving hadn’t.
I spent the next hour wandering around The High City, an upscale shopping center with overlook platforms of the main road loop below. It was pretty expensive, so I simply walked around instead of buying anything, but the views were impressive.
Quiet Keeper Park
After my time at The High City, I followed a pedestrian footbridge into a series of lovely green areas where groups of people dined quietly and enjoyed their evening.
One thing I truly appreciate about Saudi Arabians is the love they have for picnics. There is nothing more common in the winter than going outside to find crowds of people laying on blankets, chatting with one another while overlooking nice scenery.
I slowly rotated through the green space which is called Abu Kheyal Park. There, I gazed over the sparkling city below, watched the Green Mountain glowing in the distance, petted white cats and brushed my hands through vibrant garden greenery.
The park was blessedly quiet, the sounds of traffic muffled to the point of elimination by tall trees. I spent a full hour ghosting through the park, sleepily relaxing on various ledges.
Teatossed
After my time at the park, I decided to seek out a cup of tea before bed. I ended up walking and driving around much of the downtown area of Abha. But I found traffic frustrating. The city isn’t badly designed or anything. In fact, navigation is doable enough. But Saudi Arabians are usually most active during the evening, so the streets were crammed.
In the end, I threw up my hands. I only made one stop on the way back to my hotel. I gathered a large jug of water which would serve as my shower. I was still staying at a hotel with odd-smelling tap water and didn’t want to dunk my head into it anytime soon.
Night spent, road trip to Najran complete and water obtained, I retired for the day.
Rue Rise
The following day, I awoke early to visit Rijal Almaa. As previously mentioned in other posts, the trip was wonderful and can be read about here.
But the mornings in Abha were notoriously cloudy. Even when I stopped at overlooks, I couldn’t see anything. Even while driving out of the city, the fog was too dense for sightseeing. So I didn’t have much to report on.
The Terraced Lifelines
However, when I drove back to Abha, the clouds had lifted. I realized I had bypassed huge swaths of territory with interesting features.
The area, namely Al Soudah, is a juniper-dense mountain region with buildings following the rolls of mountaintops. However, the truly impressive features are the terraced fields.
Abha, for all its fertility and elevation, is still a relatively arid region. As such, people have performed ingenious water-retention methods in the high mountains for generations.
There are generally two main water retention methods for an area: Pooling and rooting. Pooling involves finding ways of trapping water in containers and using it as needed. Rooting involves growing plant life in order to store water and prevent evaporation.
Al Soudah uses a pooling method by creating large, tilted fields with earthwork lips. They look like fortifications designed to contain rain, forcing fleeing water trickles back into farms. The rocky soil has clearly been managed for generations with sweeps of green crops brightening the ground. Of course, the design also prevents erosion by containing dirt during heavy storms.
Perhaps most interesting are the terraced mountains where no farming is done. These areas are covered in native flora which have taken full advantage of the water-retention system humans have constructed.
Patter Parks
After returning to Abha by way of mountain roads, I parked in the city to walk around. Despite my hikes earlier in the day in Rijal Almaa, I wanted some time to stretch my legs. So I took long, meandering walks around Damside Park, which is a dry concrete riverbed with murals across its walls.
The walk was lovely enough. I visited The Art Street, got a snack at the somewhat-open Thulathaa Traditional Market, gazed at the numerous flowers and stopped at a walk by cafe. I looped around Al Bahar Historical Square and tried to visit the Shada Archaeological Palace, which was sadly closed.
All the while, rain was continuously bursting down at random intervals. Soft thunder rumbled above, never quite booming. It was a relaxing little stroll.
Notorious Shutdown
With my last few hours in town, I decided to try visiting all of the remaining sights on my list, even if only a drive-by was possible.
However, this turned out to be a case of extraordinary bad luck. There’s an upcoming culture event which means virtually every heritage site of note was utterly closed.
I first tried to visit the Abha Lake Viewpoint, but security out front prevented me from ever getting close. Next, I attempted to visit the neighborhood hilltop Shamsan Historical Castle. But this was also shut down, numerous people preparing for an event the following day.
Stubbornly, I tried the Al Basta District which was filled with people wrapping plastic bags around outdoor cultural props. The Al Raqdi Museum was also shuttered.
Getting grumpy, I finally tried the Fatima Museum of Home Decoration and Women’s Clothes.
But that was closed as well. Throwing up my hands, I filled up the gas on the rental car and stopped at an Indian restaurant for a slow, relaxing lunch. With everything shut down and my flight leaving at 5 PM, I decided I’d done enough for one trip.
Sometimes this happens. Not all journeys are filled with events. I think Abha is a nice enough city, even with many of its tourist attractions unavailable. I enjoyed my time there even if I didn’t manage to complete my local bucket list.
All the while, I noticed two things while driving. First, the rain in the region did nothing to slow down other drivers. People tore through puddles sending sprays of water skywards. Occasional sheets of water caked my windshield, effectively blinding me, making my journey far slower than anticipated.
However, also interesting to me was the “soap” on the road. Many of the streams and puddles in Abha were filled with a strange, bubbly, white substance. It looked exactly like soap from a car wash, but it was universal across the entire city. Hilltops, highways and parking lots all had a trickle of bubbles.
I have no idea what causes these prevailing bubbles. As of now, my best guess is that the roads are “scrubbed” with some sort of absorbent to soak up rubber and oil residue, preventing slick roads in the event of rain. My other best guess is that the region has some sort of chalky mineral native to the topsoil which bubbles lightly in water.
Honey, I’m Off
Following my last attempt for tourism, I finally returned to the airport where the car rental return went smoothly.
One of my favorite things to do when renting a car is calculating the number of miles I’ve driven in a set amount of time. I like knowing I’ve gotten my money’s worth for road trips.
When I picked up my rental, the meter read 24,825 Kilometers. By the time I returned the odometer had jumped to 25,659 Kilometers for a total of 833 kilometers driven in just forty-two hours. That’s 517 miles out and back from Abha twice.
That always amuses me. The car rental return company initially had employees arguing with one another, believing their initial odometer recording was a typo. I assured them that I was simply insane and everyone had tracked numbers appropriately.
Apparently, this was funny. I got a few laughs as I handed back my keys. I quickly walked back into the airport, only stopping to grab a quick chicken sandwich before my flight
However, I hit a snag when trying to board my plane. When I was in Rijal Almaa, I had visited a fantastic honey refinery. I was so charmed by the place, I couldn’t resist buying a pair of jars. However, the jars of honey I bought were unable to enter inside carry-on luggage, so I had to plead with security for a time. I had no checked baggage (as I never travel with checked baggage) so my options were slim.
But eventually, security was swayed by some technicality. Since the honey I purchased has verified medicinal properties, I tried to insist that it was a medicine. Then I attempted to argue that honey isn’t a liquid at all, merely a carbohydrate (which is technically true). Afterwards, I made the case that I could vacuum-seal the already-sealed jars in a secondary bag.
In the end, I don’t think any of this worked. Security finally just gave me a special bag and rolled their eyes when they saw me gently lowering the honey into the trash.
So victory by annoyance once again. Perhaps it’s the American in me which makes such triumphs so compelling. We are, after all, a nation which heralds the filibuster.
With another minor victory earned, I quickly flew home, typing this during the flight. Abha turned out to be a spectacular series of trips, so full of events I feel like I’ve been gone for a week rather than a weekend.
I’m certain I’ll have a few moments to catch my breath. But with the end of January comes another series of trips. It’s time to see what’s next.
So until then,
best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written January 21st 2024
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Ten years ago, I abandoned my military surplus store backpack for a Farpoint 40 Osprey Travel Pack. I’ve never replaced my bag since. Two years ago, I bought two more Osprey Backpacks for my younger siblings on their first tour outside the country. I have nothing but praise for Osprey Products.
