Red Sea Diving - Saudi, not Egypt

Life is now. There was never a time when your life was not now, nor will there ever be - Eckhart Tolle

“How was your week-end?”

“Piece of paradise. Yours?”

Didn’t really care about the answer, cause I knew it could be nowhere near as nice as mine. C’mon – Red Sea diving, live aboard, French company... How much better can it get? Of course, I may have been wrong about the French company. They are a strange bunch. Speak only French and stick to their own kind – big time. Out of the 25 people (excluding the Filipino crew) only four were not French. Forget about the accent – 48 hours of it almost did my head in. Trying to understand the instructor who looked and sounded like Insp Clouseau, was hilarious though.

I’m use to men wearing board-shorts on the beach. But the French, they like their tiny costumes, irrespective of their own shape or size. They put everything on display without shame. Even use the tight-fitting garments to store lighters, Gauloise and i-pods (apart from the obvious). Fricken bunch of characters.

We live in the highest part of Saudi - 3000m to be exact. Driving to the Red Sea means going down the escarpment. It also means hairpin-bends and traffic in opposite directions using the same lane to overtake! Problem is that if you don’t drive as they do, yóú actually become the hazard. I asked the French driver if he was religious and could see the question made him feel somewhat uncomfortable. He mumbled that he was born Catholic. Told him not to worry, as I was religious enough for the both of us and that I had every intention of praying all the way to the bottom. Just as well, cause we passed an accident scene with bodies lying around! Negotiating the mountain takes about an hour. Driving to Al Lith takes five hours. Once down the mountain, the highway along the coast to Jeddah is not too bad. But believe me, some drivers still manage to overturn their vehicles.

My job (self-imposed) was to keep the driver awake. I talked a lot (not a problem for me). When I got tired, I offered food (which only I ate). Then I resorted to intermittent “Are you still okay”-s. Eventually he asked: “Are yóú still okay?”, which is when I realised I was perhaps not doing a very good job.

Finding toilets along the route could be problematic. Here’s a hint – find a mosque! They always have washrooms. Think it’s compulsory. You may perhaps not find a female section, but when in need, I can’t see the problem. Scared the hell out of few men though! Won’t go into the graphics of squatting and hole in the ground stuff, but the thought did cross my mind – how on earth do the old ladies cope?

Arriving at the marina was heaven. Tried very hard not to look and seem too excited and unaccustomed to all of this – but WOW! Boat is called Dream Diver. That it was indeed. My compatriot, Blondie, had rocked up for a dive week-end without as much as a mask. Had to purchase a wetsuit at the harbour before taking off. Quite surprising then that she actually did the max dives – 7 in all. Or maybe not. Probably got youth on her side. And cute blonde looks. (She’s great company, by the way!)

French all had a great reunion. Some of them came from Jeddah. They celebrated with pastis.(an anise-flavoured liqueur and aperitif from France, typically containing 40–45% alcohol by volume) And then red wine. (home-brew) It was the only time they drank, because all are serious divers. We spent the first night on the boat, although we only took off the next morning, just before dawn. We slept below deck, but as the engines started up, everyone was up and on the top (open)deck – the safest place to avoid sea-sickness. Thus we saw the sun rise and set every day for the two days we were on board. For me, already a taste of paradise. Some more magical moments when dolphins showed up. (regular occurrence throughout) Then the first reef. The first dive. Calm sea. Warm water. Gentle entry. Gentle exit. Crew who does almost everything but dress you.

Diving happened morning, noon and night. At 8h00, 11h00, 15h00 and 19h00. It’s wall-diving at its best. People grouped together according to their experience. It kinda just happened, almost like some cosmic unspoken law. I dived with people whom I’d never met before, knew not their names, and yet felt comfortable with.

Diving is exhausting. Ask anyone who dives. It certainly takes it out of me. So we dived, ate and slept and dived again. I got very good at doing the sleeping thing. Diving and boat and (hate to admit it), but yes, inexperience got the better of me on day 1. None of that on day 2. Sooo.oo.oooo needed to have a day 3. (Next time!)

The guys who went deep (40m) saw sharks. At 20m, all I saw was fish – fairly small fish. Lots of them. Thus, on the last day, the last dive, I bailed and went to explore the little island of Mar Mar. It is a breeding ground for turtles. Didn’t see any turtles, but saw all their tracks. (The divers saw turtles) You know, anywhere else in the world, people would not be allowed anywhere near such an island. This seems to be in the middle of nowhere. Like the Life of Pi – in the middle of the ocean, you come upon a sandbank.

I can’t adequately describe what I saw, felt and experienced. Even the pictures do it no justice. All I can say, when asked about it:

I had a taste of heaven, a piece of paradise.

Qatar - where everything comes together

Said I wanted to visit my friends, no matter if I had to travel halfway round the world or on to Siberia. Fortunately it was a lot easier than that - the neighbouring country of Qatar. Beautiful Doha, where the old and the new come together in perfect harmony.


I remember getting rid of the compulsory black abaya as I stepped onto the plane in Riyadh. I felt such a sense of freedom, and I felt that way the entire week that I was in Doha. This little country in the Middle East where one can actually be oneself without offending. Nobody stares. Everyone does his/her own thing. It is so amazing to see diverse cultures living together, untroubled and unfazed.

The airport was a happy place. It felt open and friendly. My companion on the plane was an Egyptian nurse, working in Riyadh and visiting friends in Qatar. She phoned the driver who had to pick her up, and said: “I’m wearing a black abaya and headscarf” How is that gonna help him?!!! At least another 100 also looking like that. I could have said: I am wearing jeans and an orange t-shirt. A lot more helpful, I would imagine. But I enjoyed her company and we were together on the return flight, chatting away like old friends.

In Doha I was welcomed by my dearest friends who had made a poster to welcome me. It was soooo..oo..oo special. The guard kept pointing me to the exit door, and I thought: I know, I can read...but then I saw he was pointing at the poster. That obvious, huh?

I have many memories and at first all the images was rushing through me at 100 mph. So much to see and take in. You can’t miss the skyline filled with skyscrapers. You can’t help but notice construction of new buildings. Its bubbling and vibey and spells: growth. Some kind of a future – 2022 and beyond! I still smile when I think of the World Cup night when they won the bid. Of course money is involved in any such bidding, but hey, I still think it was pretty amazing that they managed to pull it off. Go Qatar!

On Friday morning it was brunch-time at the Movenpick Hotel. I could have stayed at the sushi table all morning. But then Beef Wellington... how can you not say yes? And a chocolate fountain with fresh fruit to dip in. And a cheese platter to die for. Haven’t seen proper cheese in any form, shape or size for ages. Not part of the Saudi bouquet. Add to that copious amounts of bubbly and red, great company – and I can’t imagine it being more perfect than that. In good Welsh lingo: it was LUSH.

There was a day spent on the beach. Bit of a drive through barren landscape. And yet, the road was excellent - a modern highway with multiple lanes and clear signposts (in English) at every turn-off. God knows where it leads to! The signpost could be bigger than the place it’s indicating. Don’t have any preconceived ideas about the beach. Long stretch of sand that meets an ordinary-looking sea. Apart from us, we had half of India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka (whatever) enjoying it with us. Again, freedom to wear costumes and skimpy tops and simply be. I was so enjoying the beach and sun-worshipping, I never actually went into the water. Pity. I was leaving it till later, but the weather changed. How the hell does the weather change in the Middle East! Blown away by wind. Unreal! But I remember nursing a cup of tea (gotta love the British for that) and eating chicken off a barbeque made without the help of firelighters – Jay the miracle-worker to thank for that. Funny how good something tastes if you almost didn’t have it!

Qatar has got nice shopping malls. I’m not a Mall-rat, but having been deprived of it, I thoroughly enjoyed frequenting those. The joy of trying on clothes, drinking coffee, having MacD’s, window shopping, pretending to be very rich (didn’t fool anybody). In my own country I expect to be free and have almost everything available at all times. It’s not a treat. In Qatar, neighbouring Saudi, I didn’t know what to expect, and was therefore totally overwhelmed. To put it mildly: pleasantly surprised.

We did have a trip planned to the dunes – the singing sand dunes. Unfortunately that never happened because of all the unusual things one could experience, I also experienced rain in Qatar. Not a drizzle – proper rain. Bucketsful. And the dunes don’t sing when wet!

We spent a rainy day at the Souk Waqif. Now that is something to behold. I like the old stuff. Little alleys and shops and Bedouin-style jewelry and rugs. A street full of cafes and sisha’s where women are as welcome as men. The ambience is out of this world. Of all the places to be when it rains, we chose the best – holed up in a sisha cafe. Another perfect day. Must also make mention of the falcons and Arabian horses that fills a separate corner of the Souk. Tell you, if I had to live there, I’d skip the hotels and high rises, and head for the Souk as often as possible. That would be the place I’d like to hang out at.

I ate too much, drank too much, slept too little and talked too much. It was only a week, but felt like a month. It was worth it. Absolutely worth it. On the last day we went to the corniche and the Dhow harbour. The day before I went to The Pearl – super smart marina with luxury yachts. Nice to see, but once only. As for the Dhows and the simple fishing boats, that’s more my style. We went to look and take pictures, but my friends had a surprise in store – a ride on one of the dhows, impromptu, cheap, and the best way to end my visit to Qatar.

So many places to see and so many things left to do – not sure whether my journey will take me back to Qatar, but I’d like to think so.