Bedu Hospitality And Searching For Caves.

For some reason I have been enjoying Riyadh just recently.  Maybe it's the weather.  Or maybe it's the fact that we had a good break with the family over Christmas that I'm still buzzing about.  Or perhaps it s the attention that The Husband has been paying me recently.  Whatever the cause, life has felt rather upbeat just recently.  And in this positive frame of mind The Hubster was more than happy to go in search of some caves out on the Dhana Dunes.

There are a group of cavers (or spelunkers if you'd prefer) in Saudi.  We are not one of them.  But after having read about caves in Saudi, I decided the idea of roaming around caves in the desert sounded kind of cool.  So, for the past few years I've been attempting to find the location of two caves on the Dhana Dunes that don't require spelunking gear.

For very good reasons like vandalism, the dangers associated with caving and the general brainless activity of wrecking anything they find, cave locations aren't published to the general public by the spelunking crew.  It has taken a good deal of Googling to find what I was looking for. Or at least I thought I'd found it. (If I knew any spelunkers I would've just asked, but I don't, hence the need to Google).

As the dunes we needed are only three hours away and we presumed to know exactly where we were going, our departure from Riyadh was left till late in the afternoon in our rented Fortuna packed with some of our new camping gear.  This was a perfect weekend, we decided, to test out our new purchases - namely some great big heavy duty swags that don't actually fit anywhere in our apartment, so are stacked on top of each other in a corner of the lounge, next to our bicycles that also don't actually fit in the apartment, but there's nowhere else to put them except in the lounge.

Hubster was guided directly to the Google co-ordinates I'd unearthed.  It turns out the co-ordinates were to a RawDhat - or park area -completely fenced all the way round obviously to keep people out so that plant life has a chance to grow.  Initially I thought we'd stumbled on a local cemetery so wasn't that keen to go find a cave in the middle of it.  It took driving almost the entire circumference before Hubster and I decided we'd come to far not to go traipsing through looking for our cave.  We didn't find it.  (And it wasn't a cemetery).

It must be around here somewhere, I said to Hubster as we were retracing our tracks toward the highway.
Why don't we ask the people in that tent, says Hubster.
What people, I said given that there weren't any people to be seen.

And there, parked by the tent that on our arrival had been flapping in the wind, was a Ute.

We drove around the tent, as you do in Saudi, and nobody was there.
But a little way off was an SUV.  And just beyond that were makeshift metal pens with a number of goats (or sheep - I can't quite tell the difference with the animals up this end of the world.  NZ sheep look like sheep.  ME sheep could be goats and vice versa!)  And outside the pens was a Saudi bloke. We drove over and he came to the car to say hello.  We managed to communicate thanks to his daughter whose English was sufficient that between us we could all get our messages across.

We are looking for caves, we said.

He was surprised and there followed, in pigeon English and Arabic between the four of us, this conversation...
Him:  It is late in the day.  The sun will be setting in just over an hour.  You can't go into caves now.
Us:  We'll find the cave and then camp beside it and go searching through it in the morning.
Him: What! Camping!  You can't be camping out tonight. No, no, it is too cold to be camping.  Come back to our place, eat, sleep and we can take you to the cave tomorrow.  It is too far tonight.
Us (to each other): What do you think?  I don't mind if you don't mind.
Us (to Him): Ok, that is very kind of you.
(Obviously the entire conversation wasn't quite as black and white as all that, but as a summary it's spot on).

Once the invitation to his home was settled he called us over to the pens to meet his wife who was busy with the hired help, a young bloke from India, attaching baby goats to adult females that were tied to the pen fencing so they couldn't argue with the fact they were there to feed.  (On closer inspection I decided these were goats).

The wife was given the news that there would be extra company tonight and she seemed perfectly OK with the idea.  It was as though this family were quite used to strangers rocking up late in the day and being invited for dinner.  And soon we were being shown how mothers are attached to fences and kids to mothers.  (I wish I had taken more photos!)

We followed this family out of the desert to their home in the nearby small township.  On arrival Hubster headed to the tent near the entrance of the house to spend the evening with the men while I was shown the way to the ladies hang out, out back.

 The house was not the huge flash triple story buildings that you see in the city.  No. This single level dwelling was a family home.  And the family were quite happy living in it with its collection of comfortable rooms circled around a large central courtyard, in the middle of which was another big tent.

I was taken to one of the rooms alongside the tent that was decked out as a Saudi salon - brightly colored wall to wall carpet with cushions up against the walls for leaning on and covered squares scattered about for added lounging comfort.  Next to that was a large kitchen and a store room (almost like a huge walk in pantry) and next to that was the parents quarters.  Round the corner was the bathroom - a toilet, shower and washing machine were housed in it - a simple yet functional space.  Another large room took up an area on the opposite side of the square that I understand the boys slept in that night, while behind the tent was yet another building presumably providing various rooms for the rest of the family.

Mum organised qahwah and dates and also gave instruction on what was to be prepared for dinner and soon we were joined by other female members of the family - daughters, daughters in law, aunties, nieces and grandchildren most of whom, I learned, lived in houses next door.  We sat around the gas heater that had been lit to warm the room.  Dad had been right.  It was a very cold night. 

Dinner was a simple yet delicious meal served up in the middle of the circle of ladies all sitting croiss legged on the floor (except me...just haven't got this leg crossing position down).  Throughout the evening the women chatted and the kids went running in and out.  They were happy to practice the English they had been learning in school and I used the tiny bit of Arabic I know, turning to the dictionary on my phone for everything else.  The evening passed very pleasantly indeed and I felt perfectly comfortable in this gathering.



The Hubster let me know what went on in the man tent.  He said they asked lots of questions about NZ, were constantly making sure he was attended to with qahwah and dates and were somewhat bemused we didn't have a GPS to assist our travels (a Google Map on iphone doesn't rate as GPS), and just couldn't believe we would go camping alone in the desert.  Although Hubster does not understand much Arabaic at all, he could tell by the warmth of the men he met, and in particular on the face of father who invited us to his home, that we were extremely welcome.

By 9.30pm the dinner things were cleared up, the women bid goodnight and Hubster was brought over to the salon.  It was time for bed and he was going to be sleeping in here with me.  I gather from this family that Saudi in the rural areas go to bed early which was fine with me - I was tired.  We bought gear in from the 4WD - pillows and our backpack of clothes (the swags had to be left for another day) - and settled in for a very comfortable sleep.

I woke around 6am the next morning and, after getting dressed, decided to go for a walk to take some photo's of the area.  Dad was up already and he had the fire lit in the guest tent with thermos's and kettles lined up beside the fire keeping warm.  He waved me in and I curled up by the open fire place while Dad offered qahwa and dates followed by some hot and sweet milky tea and we used hand signals and short sentences to talk about families and work and caves and living in Saudi.  Hubster wandered in later in the morning and then I was called back to the ladies area because breakfast was ready.  It was being served in the big tent.

After breakfast one of the sons, with a few of the kids on board, was charged with guiding us to the nearby caves.  Dad was wanting us to come back and have lunch, but we had imposed enough.  Plus our time was limited as we had another event to attend that evening back in Riyadh.


Hubster couldn't believe the caves when we reached them.  He had been expecting a massive hole in a hillside and was wondering where the heck such caves might be given the landscape we were driving through was relatively flat and sandy.

Desert caves are holes in the ground.  And not particularly large holes either.  The first was just a little gash out of which birds where flying.  If you stood close enough, though not too close else you'd slide in with the sand, you could hear them twittering.  The kids picked up stones and threw them into the hole and we listened to see if you could hear a thud as they landed at the bottom.  (Nope, heard nothing).


The second cave was much larger, but unless you knew where to find it you'd have difficulty locating it because only as you get close do you see the hole in the ground.  We are amazed at how Saudi's know their way in this flat seemingly featureless and always changing desert.  This cave was big enough that we could walk down into it as, it was obvious from the graffiti on the walls once we were inside, numerous others had.  We thanked our new found friend and guide and set about walking down into the cave.

 The cave split in two once we'd clambered over the rocks near the entrance.  Off to the left was a rather steep rock strewn bank disappearing into the dark depths.  The right side was a slightly less steep sandbank.  I decided to step off the solid rock into the sand wondering, as I did, if the whole lot was going to slide down and carry me with it.  Clearly that was just me being freaky, because nothing happened at all.  Except The Husband said, 'watch out for scorpions in the sand'.  I don't even know if scorpions live in the sand.  (I Googled.  They can, though they prefer rock crevices and soil burrows).

The sandbank ended in a rather large cavern that people had been using as a picnic spot, evident, as per usual in Saudi, by the rubbish left behind.

As part of my research to locate caves in Saudi, I'd also been reading the Saudi Caves website and picked up a bit of info on the different formations that can be found underground.  Though not optimistic of finding much because crappy humans had been here making a crappy human mess, I wandered off into the recess with my torch to see if I could spot anything.  I attempted to explain to Hubby why I was taking photo's of the cave ceiling.  It was difficult to create enthusiasm in my caving partner when I don't know exactly what I'm looking for nor precisely why it's of importance.  Perhaps next time I'll bring a passionate speleologist along for the ride who can do all the talking.

After taking a few pics of the cavern  I looked around for my buddy and he had disappeared.  He'd gone over to the other branch of the cave.  Naturally, I followed him over there.

He was nowhere to be seen. And the rock pile at the branch head didn't look particularly easy, nor safe, to clamber over.  I wondered how he got over it!  I gave a shout and he answered when I called.  Come on down, he said.  On closer inspection a narrow strip of a sand bank ran down the side of the rocks.  The quickest way down was to walk and slide down the sand. There was always the thought that loosened sand may destabilize the rock fall, or perhaps I've watched to many Indiana Jones type movies.   Anyway, once that first foot hit the sand there was no looking back.  Getting back up was gonna be a butt and thigh killer!

Hubster was standing on a shelf part way down - among more rubbish.  He'd broken off a tiny piece of white rock from the roof and proudly showed it to me, saying there was a lot of this all over the place.  It has taken a few years, but I have learned that the best way to tell The Hubster something he may not like the sound of is to start with, 'darling I love you but'....I think this stuff takes years to form and breaking it off isn't really what you should be doing in the interests of cave conservation.

Oh, he says.  You're right.  Sorry
(He may not always listen, but when he does he's a quick study).

I took a few more pictures from the shelf.  It looked as though this cave came to an end a short way down - more rubbish was down there.  We decided we'd seen enough.  There was no need to go further.  Apart from the fact it got a bit narrower on the way down and we aren't exactly thinly built, it was going to hard enough walking back up the sand from our current position.

Coming back up to the surface into the bright sunlight you can appreciate why caves were used by Bedu for shelter from the elements.  It's a pity the modern desert visitor doesn't treat the place with a bit more respect.

We spent a bit of time just marveling at what lay beneath the desert.  If we could we may have tiki toured about looking for more caves, but time was not on our side.  We had to head back to the city.  And it would soon be time for lunch.  We still had our chilly bin full of food, having tried and failed to give any of it to our hosts the night before.

Sitting over the smoke of the fire was the only way to eat our meat in peace this day because the wadi we had chosen was full of plant growth which attracted goats, sheep and camels, which attracted flies.  It was funny.  I had to laugh.  What a weekend we had had.  It began searching for caves, wound up finding fabulous bedu hospitality, continued roaming around underground and ended cooking over a fire beside a dried up river bed with roaming camels and evading flies.  Some days, you just gotta love Saudi.



Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Frolicking at RawDhat Khuraim

'Lush' is not a term one tends to use when living in a desert country.  Neither is 'frolicking'.  Yet the other week Hubster, I and a couple of friends went frolicking in the lush growth out at RawDhat Khuraim.  Well, they would have frolicked if they weren't acting so boringly mature.

The weather has been fabulous in and around Riyadh these last few months.  The winter and coolish spring lingered on much longer than usual and, as the temps were so favorable, we decided a drive to the Kings Forest for a weekend break out of town was in order.  The morning dawned dusty and windy so we decided to wait till the afternoon when things looked a little better (though not much) and packed the Yarris with our lunch and picnic gear  (Hubster decided not to hire the Yukon this time, much to my disgust).  We had invited Mr Oz and Ahmed along for a ride too, as they had never been to the Kings Forest before, so the car was rather full.

Saudi is changing at a rapid pace.  That is obvious every time we return to a previously visited location.  Almost the entire drive Hubster and I were commenting on the development that is everywhere.  Newbies might think we are a bit barmy calling the tents, trailers and real estate huts that have popped up along the roadside 'development', but when you compare these sights with the barrenness that was here before, 'progress' or 'development' are exactly the right terms.

RawDhat Khuraim is obviously a very popular place to visit in the spring, as evidenced by the number of cars lined up along the fence line and the tents available for groups to hire.  As the wind was still whipping about we decided to leave our picnic gear in the car, thinking it would be too uncomfortable attempting to cook over a fire under the circumstances.  The blokes determined they would only go for a short stroll and then find somewhere else to settle for a cuppa.  It's unfortunate that bloke minds aren't really very flexible.  The further we walked in toward the Kings Forest, the calmer the air became, diffused no doubt by the lush greenery growing in abundance.

I was amazed.  Absolutely amazed.  Especially when I compared this trip to our first visit three years ago, and I wished we had carried the chilly bin and blanket in with us, so we could sit back and really enjoy moment.  The closest I got was a sit in the grass while Hubster snapped a quick photo before all the men folk decided they'd 'Been here, done that, now it's time to go.'  I don't think Mr Oz and Ahmed realize how much of a treat they were getting seeing RawDhat Khuraim so beautifully covered in plants.  The locals, however, knew exactly how lucky they were, and had come out in force, setting up picnic spots all over the place among the grasses, daisies and various other foliage.

Though the boys were in a hurry, I wasn't, so they had to wait about while I took photo's.  After all, one has to remember this day!  Now, when someone says to me 'RawDhat Khuraim is beautiful and green in spring' (something I admit I used to doubt given the state of the place on our first visit here),  I have photographic memories of that fact.

The boys, who had found the RawDhat a little ho-hum, were quite keen to inject a little excitement into their day, so when a suggestion was made to hire quad bikes from the 'entrepreneurs' renting them on the roadside, everybody was up for it.

It turns out that Mr Oz had never ridden a quad before, but after a brief lesson on 'This makes it go and This makes it stop' from Hubster, he was having a fine old time buzzing along on the bike.

Ahmed, who had grabbed the bike by the horns and was off like a rocket, ended up on his arse!

About now is when I say something like: Quad bikes aren't toys and, if you aren't careful you can hurt yourself on them.  Of course, you hurt yourself even more when you fall off onto hard, stony ground, (as out by the Rumah) than you do carping off onto sand!

We picked up the bike, payed a bit extra to the entrepreneur for bike repairs, and then headed into Rumah to get 'The Fallen One' cleaned up at the nearest gas station with washroom facilities.  Around behind the gas station we found a perfectly sheltered, quiet spot to set up our table and chairs, pull out our thermos and munch on our sandwiches while debriefing about the day which, I have to admit, mainly involved laughing about 'Ahmed's Antics'.

Directions to RawhDhat Khuraim.
RawDhat Khuraim is so easy to find.  Head out along the Dammam highway and simply follow the signs.  Or key in the co-ordinates from my Kiwi In Saudi: Tiki Tour Map  (25.336579N, 47.304382E).



View Kiwi In Saudi: Tiki Tour in a larger map

I suggest you go visit RawDhat Khuraim before the summer heat takes it all away again.  And enjoy frolicking, if the mood strikes you :)





Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Camping Ground in Riyadh

 Winter is a great time to go camping in the desert in Saudi Arabia.  The nights are chilly and the days are cool and provided you get far enough away, the desert is just so quiet.  One of our more recent camping excursions was out Janadriyah way, over beyond the airport in a paid camping ground.

We were fortunate enough to go there at the invitation of a Saudi family.  The wife informed us that the journey to the camping ground would take about an hour.  Her husband said it takes that long whenever she is in the car, though when he goes there with mates, the drive time is a lot quicker.

Early one weekend morning we met outside their home before driving convoy style to Thumaama National Park where, after checking in at the gate, we received mapped directions to our campsite.  Thumaama Park, we discovered, houses the King Khalid Wildlife Research Center and the Land and Space Aviation School where you can learn to fly or hire a Paramotor.  As Hubster has always dreamed of getting his pilots licence so he can fly his spitfire (also on the dream list), I suggested he make a few inquiries  at the school - to date naught action has been taken, but it cannot be said wifey isn't supportive of the idea!

Driving toward the camping area we passed a bloke out on a paramotor and it wasn't till I wound down the window to snap a quick photo that we realized how darned chilly it was this crisp, clear morning.  Foreigners can often forget that the desert can get extremely cold during the winter.  We also decided you have to be keen or a fruit loop to be flying around in the chill air.

We were stopped at another gate and our details were checked before entering the camping area itself.  The surrounding landscape till this point had been as barren and flat as ever, except for the hills over in the distance.  Eventually we turned off the tarseal and headed toward the base of said hills down a graded road that wound its way through undulating terrain.  Each campsite is numbered and ours revealed itself as we followed arrows directing us over the brow of a hill.

One can't help but compare this landscape with the campgrounds we're more familiar with back home, and the initial reaction is 'errrr, it's brown'.  Nothing like the seaside or forest camps of home.  However, by the end of the day, we had come to love our little patch of desert camp.

The camp site was divided into two areas, both a reasonable distance apart presumably to cater for the country's segregation rules, each with two tents.  Between the tents, landscaped into the rocky ground, was a small kitchen and a couple of toilets.  As these camps are often used by large extended family groups out for a day of feasting there was also a place to hang and quarter a sheep.  We'd bought steak and kebabs from the supermarket - slaughtering was not required. 

Visiting a new place always requires exploration and so it was that, after deciding we would have a non-segregated day, we set up in the tent with the best outlook, disgorging the vehicles of kids, chilly bins, camp seats, a bicycle, the Braai and various other food and camp related items, then we went for a walk to explore the area.  The kids got to run around in the great outdoors and loved it.

To keep things entertaining, later that day our Saudi wahine (Maori word for 'Woman') asked if we'd give her driving lessons.  So, with her husbands blessing, we did.   I'd forgotten how stressful giving driving lessons can be, but those memories came flooding back as the car was thrown into reverse and the accelerator depressed with more gusto than was required and the car came to a skidding halt to yells of Brake! Brake!   A huge collective sigh went up from all of us in the car - because driving lessons that day were a family affair and a bit of entertainment for the kids - that's when I remembered how stressful driving lessons can be. 

Later in day, the driving made for a lot of story telling while the qahwah and dates were being passed around.  Even the kids got involved with stories of how good, or otherwise, Mama and we western ladies were at driving.   (Yes we got behind the wheel as well and went for a bit of a drive along the deserted track to see the other campsites).  The men shook their heads at the embellished tales and, now that we were safely outside the moving vehicle, we females chalked the whole episode up to 'a bit of an experience'.  Then someone decided it was time for lunch.

And so it was the boys set up the Braai and we girls did girly food prepping things while the kids ran around.  When everything was ready we sat down to eat an enormous spread.  A lot of it was covered and left for the next meal.

After lunch we had a game of footy with the kids, then some of us took turns riding the bicycle to explore a little further along the firm desert flat lands and tracks.  I have to say, there wasn't much to see, but the exercise was appreciated.  Later in the day, Arabian carpets were dragged out of the tent into the glorious winter afternoon sunshine and the kids settled down for a bit of a rest while we adults enjoyed cups of mint tea and chatted about, well, everything.  As the sun started to go down we polished off the lunch left overs, then lit a fire (a ute had turned up with a delivery of logs) and we sat talking while warming our toes amid the hills, outside our tent.

Though we have slept out under the stars a couple of times since moving here (and love it), camping in Saudi doesn't have to mean staying out all night.  Simply spending a pleasant day off the main highway with friends provides ample opportunity to experience camping in the desert.  We had asked our Saudi hosts if the intent was to stay the night and were informed by the wahine that she never spends the night out at a camp.  So, later on that evening when the kids had settled, the fire was burning low, and the Braai had cooled enough to be put into the Yukon, we packed up and headed for home.

We intend to go back to this camping ground in Riyadh one day because this day had been one of those you remember a long time for it's simplicity - good food, good company, good times.

Happy Camping in Riyadh :)


Ka Kite,
Kiwi

Return to The Edge Of The World

We've been to The Edge of The World a few times since arriving in Riyadh.  Now that we know how to get there, it's a quick and relatively easy drive in a 4x4.  One day we drove past a few blokes who were struggling to get motorbikes through the sandy spots.  Given they had taken road bikes off road it wasn't surprising they were finding the going a bit difficult!  It seems the Edge of the World is a popular desert trek that expats like to take on whatever vehicle they have to hand.  Lord knows we tried it once in a Camry.  We didn't make it!

This weekend we headed out there again in our trusty, hired Yukon.  Mr UK is leaving at the end of this week and it was decided a trip to the Edge was required as neither he nor Mr Oz had been yet.  We were joined by a Kiwi couple who were also Edge newbies, and Little Oz, a newbie to Saudi, along with the Braai Master and his wife who thought spending the day with us in the desert sounded like a good plan.

We couldn't believe the changes that have taken place on the way to this popular desert destination.  Mostly in relation to the towns we drive through.  They are expanding.  It's an indication of the money the government is spending on the country.  We've seen the little settlement of Uyayna, just before The Edge Of The World turn off which, by the way, still lacks an actual signpost (though there is a pink skip now marking the turn off point), grow from a scraggly hick town to a place that is a lot more lively with a new Othaim Market and a fancy handbag shop, among others.  (Fancy handbags strike me as an indicator of wealth creation in this country, much like increased lipstick sales is a sign of a country going through economic recession).  We've seen the road connecting Uyayna with Sadous become a smooth dual carriage highway.  And our favorite fruit and vege road side stall is concreted out front.

Off the main road, the trail out to the Edge of The World has also gone through a few changes, the most obvious is the graded road that takes you all the way to the new gateway located next to the dam.  There the road splits with the left side continuing toward the army post we found on our first trip out this way.  Don't take that road.   Go through the right hand side complete with a brand new shiny, metal gate posted right next to a tent with flag.  Today, a chatty bearded man and dog were sitting in attendance and waved us through when we asked if entering was OK.  Past this entrance is a second gateway and soon after you'll find the soft sanded river bed has had truckloads of gravel laid down to make the way a little easier to follow, though you can always get out of the soft sand and follow on firmer ground if you prefer. ( I usually get to drive to the Edge of The World and did take the wheel for a while later in the day, but Hubster wasn't very keen on giving up the driver's seat this time.  What's with that!)

The window in the escarpment hasn't changed much, though there appears to be new rock fall off the sides.   Dandelions and other flowers were blooming on the hillside, a welcome change from the brown barrenness from previous visits.  The walking tracks leading to higher and more precarious viewing vantage points have become more worn as the popularity of area has grown.  The Edge still manages to attract people as close to it as they dare to look at the desert beyond...

Thanks for this pick Hilary -
and for more on Hilary Travels in Saudi visit her blog

...or they pose for photo's pretending to be near the edge..

(the boys were much less adventurous than us girls when it came to edgy views.  Chickens!)

...and then there's the guy who just wants to throw stones over.

Once we more adventurous types had had our fill of standing on the point, we headed back to the truck to find the boys had been scoffing coconut muffins and were wanting lunch!   The best place for a picnic is right  in the middle of the natural window, though remnants of picnic fires can be found in more perilous looking nooks and crannies.  We have, once or twice, carted our chilly bin and magic carpet up the shale hill to rest in a shady overhang.  This time, however, we opted for a picnic spot neath a beautifully spreading tree back along Acacia Valley, just far enough off the river bed not to get dust from passing cars and close enough to bush coverage for walks to the toilet.

Carpets were spread on the ground and chairs opened up for the, ummm, more mature who have difficulty with ground level (both getting there and doing anything useful once down there which, come to think of it, was most of us!)  Tea and snacks were passed around and salads prepped while the master chefs all got busy with their respective Bar-B's: a braai for the meat (this master chef is extremely good at his job), a fire for the Hallumi, tinfoil wrapped spuds, and roasting marshmallows, and a camp burner for hot water.  Why we had so many cookers going is beyond me - but boys will be boys when they are in 'Great White Provider' mode.  Regardless, it was a delicious feast in the desert.

All the while we were entertained by a herd of camels having fun taking dust baths in the sand while being dutifully watched over by a hobbled male.  And every now and then entertainment of the Saudi variety drove past in utes calling, waving and drifting in the sand.  We hoped they didn't hit a log hiding just under the sand because that would have meant running to someones rescue and upsetting our day.  The funniest thing was a ute pulling up and asking in broken English if we had a drink.
'A drink?' we said
'Yes. One glass. Black', they said.
'What?', we said.
'Black Label.  Johnny Walker'
'Ohhhh, we said.  Uh, no.  Sorry.'
It's bizarre to think in this Muslim land that locals not only presume we expats are all soaks carrying booze into the desert (we only had mint tea, cold water, soft drink and and bad coffee), but that they are not averse to asking to participate.


After our meal the carpet came in handy for those who needed a bit of a nap and then it was time for marshmallows over the coals.  Little Oz had never tried those before (What kind of Ozzie are you mate!)  But once shown how he was hooked cos they were delish! (Taking over the cooking and consumption of toasted marshmallows was suitable redemption from further ribbing.)


What topped off the day was Mama Camel coming over to investigate our picnic site.  Because she was sniffing the air filled with smells of spuds and steak and toasting marshmallows, Hubster wondered if she might like a freshly baked potato.  She loved it.  So, he tried her on a baked onion - not so happy with that.  Then he thought, how about some chips.  Mmmmmm, nummy she thought.  And then a couple of the other girls came over, so they got a spud too.

Though the other girls moved off, Mama was perfectly happy to hang around for a scratch and photo opportunity, before slowly making her way back to the rest of her crew.  Our crew were feeling rather chuffed with themselves having that experience.

It was a beautifully relaxing day.
And though it would have been great to stay into the evening with a log fire burning (lord knows we had enough food to last till the morning) as dusk was approaching, it was time to up sticks and head home.  Maybe we'll stay a little longer out near the Edge of the World next time.

In Case You Haven't Been Before Here's a Map with Edge of The world. 

,
View Kiwi In Saudi: Tiki Tour in a larger map




And Here's Directions to The Edge Of The World.

The Edge of The World Co-ordinates N: 24 56' 31.9" : E:045 59' 31.2" 
If you don't have GPS then, starting from Kingdom Tower, Olaya, take Uruba Road (west).  Watch for the signboard 'King Khalid Eye Hospital' (KKEH), when you see it, move onto the service road.  Go straight through the traffic lights and veer left onto King Khalid Road. Follow King Khalid Road to exit Route 5762 to Salbukh/ Sadous/Jubayla. Take this exit and head to Sadous. You will pass by Jubayla, Uyainah and Sadous.  24.5 km from Jubayla (before the road goes up a rise and passes between two hills) turn left to an off-road. Soon after entering this path, on your left you will find an iron and wire fence. Follow the track until you reach a fenced area with a gate. Enter the gate and follow any convenient track for 22 km heading west.  




Ka Kite,
Kiwi