Ancient civilisations, sandscapes, and secrets in Saudi Arabia

Saudi Arabia was not a country I imagined visiting. Until just five years ago, it wasn’t even an option—the country was not open to tourists. Cinemas and concerts were banned, and restaurants enforced gender segregation. Women did not have the right to drive, apply for passports, or hold the same jobs as men. In a few short years, under the reforms of the new Crown Prince, much of that has changed, bringing an influx of foreign investment and curious travelers. So when a business opportunity arose earlier this year, I decided to go with an open mind and experience the country firsthand.

Most visitors arrive in either Riyadh, the capital and largest city, or Jeddah, the second-largest city and Red Sea port. I had applied for an eVisa online a week prior, and immigration was a breeze. I then took a domestic flight to AlUla, a desert oasis on the ancient Nabataean Spice and Incense Route, in the northwest of the country. 

Caravan AlUla

Two hours later, I was driving my Budget rental car across vast sandstone landscapes, snacks from a local supermarket in hand, on my way to Caravan AlUla by Our Habitas. (Note: I strongly recommend downloading an offline map of the area on Google Maps before travelling, as signal strength can come and go.)

After checking into my sleek airstream trailer set in a desert “campground” featuring an open-air tent with breakfast in the mornings, food trucks in the evenings, and an open-air cinema projecting films nightly onto the surrounding cliffs, I drove a few minutes to the main area of the hotel, Our Habitas (caravan guests have full access to the facilities). From there, golf carts take guests to all areas of the grounds, including the stunning infinity pool framed by red-hued mountains. Baking for thousands of years in this unforgiving desert climate, these mountains stand as silent witnesses to the rise and fall of centuries of civilisations, and they will remain long after we are gone. Floating there as the sun began to set, I reflected on just how small we are in the sweep of history. 

The infinity pool at Our Habitas, AlUla

An art installation at Our Habitas, AlUla

The grounds are also dotted with art installations, including a series of trampolines nestled in the sand between a pair of cliffs. My inner child joyfully emerged as I bounced and bounced, higher and higher. At night, under a dome of stars, the place felt almost otherworldly. Daily exercise classes and evening sound baths added to the sense of calm.

A tomb at Hegra, AlUla

A tomb at Hegra

A tomb at Hegra

The next morning, I explored Hegra, Saudi Arabia’s first UNESCO World Heritage site. Hundreds of towering Nabataean tombs carved into the sandstone stand as echoes of the kingdom that once thrived there. Visits are only via guided tours (in both English and Arabic) and must be booked in advance online. Nearby, the archaeological sites of Dadan and Jabal Ikmah feature centuries of ancient inscriptions etched into the rock, while the mirrored facade of the newly built event space Maraya appears as a mirage in the desert landscape. 

Elephant Rock, AlUla at sunset

View of AlUla and surrounds from Harrat viewpoint

For sunset, a popular spot is Elephant Rock, a natural arch with a few food trucks and ample seating. Afterwards, I headed to AlUla’s Old Town, a beautifully restored maze of narrow alleys winding among centuries-old mudbrick dwellings. The main market street cuts straight through the town, lined with cafes, boutiques, and cultural spaces. String lights give the streets a magical glow bridging past and present, and I watched both domestic and foreign visitors stroll past while enjoying a hearty local meal at Grandma Recipe. I marveled that this entire experience has only become possible in the last few years.

Mural in AlUla Old Town

AlUla Old Town

Enjoying a non-local bite in AlUla Old Town

AlUla Old Town at night

In contrast, Riyadh is all about scale and ambition. With a population of eight million (about the same as New York City), the city buzzes with construction cranes, symbols of its rapid modernization. Projects like Boulevard World—which will feature miniatures of global landmarks—and Bujairi Terrace blend Saudi traditions with modern flair. At the stylish Flamingo Room, we lingered over dinner as a sudden sandstorm swept through, savoring tea and desserts until the skies cleared enough to leave. Air quality is a frequent issue in the city. 

Riyadh

Riyadh

My final stop was Jeddah, smaller and more relaxed, with a distinct cuisine and culture. Breakfast at Tofereya introduced me to the city’s flavours, and wandering Al-Balad, its UNESCO-listed old town, felt like stepping back in time. Traditional coral-stone houses with ornate wooden balconies overlooked souks brimming with everything from textiles to trinkets, and local men socialised over shisha and dominoes.

Al-Balad, Jeddah

Al-Balad, Jeddah

On my last evening, we feasted on smoky grilled meats at the popular 7 Ribs. Afterwards, we headed for a sunset stroll to the Jeddah Promenade, which stretches for miles along the Red Sea. Families, couples, and groups of friends gathered along the waterfront, the refreshing breeze carrying conversation and laughter. It was in these daily moments of connection that Saudi Arabia revealed itself most fully: a place of true hospitality, warmth, and astonishing transformation. 

I left with the sense that I’d only skimmed the surface of this vast country (the world’s twelfth-largest) but also with deep gratitude for the openness with which it welcomed me. Saudi Arabia is changing with dizzying speed, and for travelers willing to come with curiosity and respect, it offers a truly unique experience. 

Al-Balad, Jeddah

Where to eat

Tama at Habitas, AlUla

Grandma Recipe, AlUla

Okto at Harrat Viewpoint, AlUla

Flamingo Room, Riyadh

Tofereya, Jeddah

7 Ribs, Jeddah

Where to stay

Caravan by Our Habitas, AlUla

Dar Tantora, AlUla

Novotel Sahafa, Riyadh

Miyakojima: Japan’s remote island paradise

On my latest visit to Japan, after a few indulgent days in Tokyo feasting on omakase sushi, flavourful bowls of ramen, and uni (sea urchin) in every possible form, we hopped on a nearly three-hour flight south to Miyakojima. Miyakojima, or Miyako island, is part of Japan’s southernmost prefecture of Okinawa, comprising 160 islands (of which just 49 are inhabited). Four more islands—Kurima, Irabu, Shimoji, and Ikema—are connected to Miyako via bridges, making exploration of the archipelago refreshingly easy. 

There’s an undeniable allure to remote islands—their unique customs and traditions, the stories of those who call them home, and the resourceful ways in which people weave the island’s natural bounty into the fabric of daily life. Miyakojima is all that, and more. Over four days exploring the island group, we sampled local delicacies ranging from sea grapes to coconut crab, met artisans who embody deep pride and excellence in their craft, and stumbled upon white sand beaches so pristine and empty they felt like secrets. 

One of Miyakojima’s many beautiful beaches

Scuba diving off the north shore of Irabu island, Japan

Underwater, the islands are just as breathtaking. While scuba diving with Penguin Divers, we found ourselves face-to-face with sea turtles drifting gracefully, moray eels peering from crevices, an octopus unfurling in the shadows, and flashes of boxfish, mantis shrimp, and tuna weaving through coral arches. Many sites are also snorkelling-friendly.

One of our favourite meals was lunch at Rainbow Fish, a restaurant literally built from the ground up by the chef. Each dish is cooked to order from an Italian-inspired menu with a Japanese twist. I ordered the homemade spaghetti with mentaiko cream sauce, topped with shredded nori—easily as good as anything I’d eaten in Italy a month prior. It was so good, in fact, that I ordered it again. Afterwards, we chatted with the chef about his journey to the island, and he turned out to be as humble as he is talented.

The vibrant octopus at Tako Park, Kurima island, Japan

Afterwards, we strolled to Tako Park, where a giant red octopus statue offers welcome shade and sea breezes on hot days. From there, we made our way to another animal-shaped structure, the Makiyama Observatory. The massive concrete structure, said to resemble a bird, commands sweeping views of the surrounding area, including the iconic Irabuohashi Bridge, its waves undulating over the surrounding shades of turquoise sea. A short drive away, Toguchinohama beach unfurled in a long crescent of white sand, dotted with just a handful of visitors on a national holiday weekend in August.

Toguchinohama beach, Irabu island, Japan

Even more spectacular was Sunayama beach, a short walk downhill from the car park. Its signature rock arch is now covered with netting for safety, but its true allure lies in the dazzling array of aquas and blues stretching to the horizon. We spent the afternoon wading through crystal clear shallows leading to sand banks and secluded coves. The best part? We had it all to ourselves.  

The entrance to Sunayama beach, Miyakojima, Japan

Sunayama beach, Miyakojima, Japan

That evening, we splurged on dinner at the newly opened Rosewood hotel, where the menu showcases local ingredients in simple preparations. Looking over the ocean as the setting sun colored the landscape in hues of deep indigo, we reflected on how lucky we are to be able to experience such an incredible place. 

Uni-no-hama sandbar, Miyakojima

The following morning, we set out with Jet Cruise to Uni-no-hama, a sandbar that emerges only at low tide just south of the Irabuohashi bridge. Surrounded by endless shallows and only a scattering of visitors, it felt like a fleeting mirage. Afterwards, we cooled off with some of the best mint chocolate chip ice cream I’ve ever had (made with locally grown mint) at Miyakojima Fruit Parlor, picked up sea grapes and salt at Island Station market, and headed to the airport, buzzing with the thrill of discovery. Miyakojima may be far-flung, but that is precisely its charm. Here, nature, tradition, and hospitality come together to create the kind of place that stays with you long after you leave.

Frolicking at Uni-no-hama sandbar, Miyakojima

Where to eat & drink

Rainbow Fish, Kurima island

Rosewood hotel, Miyakojima (multiple restaurants; reservations required)

Miyakojima Fruit Parlor, Miyakojima (ice cream made with local ingredients)

Bar Think, Miyakojima (amazing cocktails served by a very friendly 70-something-year-old bartender)

Island Station, Miyakojima (for groceries and items to bring home)

Goya Izakaya, Miyakojima (for local specialties, including noodles or rice with pork, tofu, and sashimi). It’s on Nishizatoo street, which is lined with many restaurants and late night spots.

Where to stay

Miyakojima Tokyu, Miyakojima (Note: while the setting by Yonaha beach is beautiful, and the included breakfast buffet was varied and filling, the thin walls meant we heard our neighbours’ every move)

Greenland: among the giants

Greenland always loomed large on the maps I spent hours poring over during my childhood. This is partly due to its actual size (it’s the largest island in the world) and partly due to land mass closer to the poles appearing more vertically stretched on common map projections. One of the first fun facts I learned about Greenland is that the Vikings named it so to entice more settlers. In reality, the vast majority of Greenland (80%) is covered by an ice cap, and its 55,000 inhabitants live predominantly along its western coast. While Greenland is geographically part of North America, it is politically part of Denmark (and autonomous in a number of ways). 

Kangerlussuaq airport, Greenland

Getting to Greenland requires some time and dedication, as the best way to reach it is via a nearly 5 hour flight from Copenhagen to Kangerlussuaq, a small town of about 500 inhabitants and the only airport in Greenland able to handle larger aircraft (originally built as a military base during World War II). Kangerlussuaq is a good jumping off point for visiting the polar ice cap (as a day trip, or more commonly an overnight camping trip), or for internal flights within Greenland. Note that the weather is notoriously fickle; delays and cancellations are not uncommon, so plan accordingly. Upon landing, I took a short flight to Ilulissat, a town further north on the western coast. There are no roads between towns in Greenland—just airplanes, boats, dog sleds, and snowmobiles. I booked all my flights directly (including the roundtrip from Copenhagen) via Air Greenland.

Colourful buildings in the town of Ilulissat

Walking around Ilulissat

While Ilulissat is the third largest town in Greenland, its population is 4,600, so you’ll need to plan ahead for your accommodation and transport. You can visit any time of year, but the summer months, during which the sun never fully sets, tend to be most popular (conversely, during winter there is little daylight). The town itself is a colorful sprawl of houses and buildings made to withstand the harsh winters, with the color of the building indicating its use (yellow for doctors and hospitals, red for teachers and churches, blue for fishermen and fish factories, etc.). After settling into my centrally located Airbnb, I went for a walk through town, finding my way to one of the western viewpoints over the bay. I enjoyed lunch at Cafe Iluliaq, which offers a range of different meals, with both locals and tourists seated outside to enjoy the summer sunshine. For dinner, Inuit Cafe offers perhaps some of the best food in Ilulissat, including a range of local specialties. You’ll also find a couple of supermarkets with a decent array of products, though keep in mind that Greenland imports almost everything except for fish, so prices are high and selection is limited. Note that everything closes quite early, even in summer (unless you happen to be invited to one of the local all-night parties). 

Icebergs in Disko Bay

Midnight colours in Disko Bay

That evening, I embarked on a previously booked icefjord boat tour, which turned out to be one of the highlights of the trip. The tours typically depart around 10pm to take advantage of the summer midnight sun. We glided among sunset-tinted icebergs, spotting numerous humpback whales putting on quite the display, flukes playfully raised and blowholes spouting above the sea. The sunset went on for hours after our return, soon turning into a bright dawn. 

The next day, I embarked on a kayaking excursion with Ilulissat Adventures around Disko Bay. They provide all the gear, including a drysuit—bring some warm wool layers to wear underneath. In general, layers are key to Greenland, as the average summer temperature in Greenland is about 10C (50F) and can fluctuate significantly. While some days were so warm I could wear a t-shirt, others necessitated protective layers against pelting rain and winds so strong I could barely breathe.  

Kayaking in Disko Bay

It felt truly spectacular to be on the water in close proximity to giant icebergs, and a good reminder of how small we are in the larger view. In a similar vein, the spectacular Ilulissat Isfjordscenter (a short walk from the town center), newly constructed and opened in 2021, is also worth a visit. Its unique architecture and informative exhibits are sure to occupy the better part of a couple of hours, and it’s also the start of a couple of short trails to reach the ice cap, a UNESCO World heritage site. Perhaps my favourite part of the whole trip, the Ilulissat Icefjord is at once breathtakingly beautiful, awe-inspiring, and humbling; it will leave you questioning humanity’s role and place on this planet. 

Walking from Ilulissat Isfjordscenter to the icefjord

The views and sounds are stunning: this giant, slow-moving glacier, witness to thousands of centuries past, passes slowly before you, iceberg-sized chunks breaking off and echoing, cracking and heaving, into the abyss. It’s at once both larger than life and disappearing before our very eyes: in recent years, the ice sheet has been melting at record levels. Second in size only to Antarctica, Greenland’s ice sheet contains 12% of the world’s glacier ice. Its melting is predicted to result in significant sea level rises worldwide that will change life as we know it over the next few generations. 

View of Disko Bay on a short hike from Ilulissat

A good place to continue philosophizing is always over great local food and wine. Koks is an excellent restaurant typically based in another Danish territory, the Faroe Islands. I had the privilege of dining there during my trip to the Faroe Islands a few years back. While Koks constructs a new home for their restaurant in the Faroes, they have established a summer residency in Ilimanaq, Greenland, accessible from Ilulissat via a 90 minute boat ride through even more icebergs. Reservations are recommended well in advance, and you’ll book the boat transfer separately through World of Greenland. Koks in Greenland does not disappoint, focusing on showcasing the best of what the area has to offer in ways that are both delicious and surprising. Afterwards, enjoy a magical sunset-hued ride back to Ilulissat at the end of the evening. 

A dish with wine pairing at Koks in Ilimanaq

The town of Ilimanaq, a 90 minute boat ride from Ilulissat

After a few nights in Ilulissat, I caught the local Arctic Umiaq ferry that takes both locals and tourists up and down Greenland’s western coast. I booked a cabin for the 36 hour journey down to Nuuk, Greenland’s capital; while expensive, it afforded a calm and private place to sleep and rest during the day. The ferry is a fun experience and special way to see Greenland, including some tiny coastal villages (some stops along the way required us to launch a dinghy to pick up the passengers and bring them aboard). It’s a basic ship with relatively simple food options (bring snacks and whatever else you might like aboard, including books, games, etc.). It’s typically too windy to be outside for more than a few minutes at a time, though you can disembark at some of the larger ports en route (notably Sisimiut, which was a nice place to stretch my legs and walk around for a couple of hours)—check first on the departure time before disembarking. 

The Arctic Umiaq ferry

The town of Kangaamiut seen from the ferry

Nuuk is worth a night or two to get a sense of life in Greenland’s capital and largest town, though it is decidedly less charming than Ilulissat. During my stay, the winds were too strong for most outdoor activities, and the standup paddleboard tour I’d booked was cancelled. This is not uncommon in Greenland, and travelling here during any time of year requires an open mind and flexibility. My flight from Nuuk back to Kangerlussuaq was repeatedly delayed and then cancelled due to the high winds, and I eventually arrived on another flight later that evening once the winds had temporarily relented. As it was after 6pm, nothing was open in Kangerlussuaq (no grocery stores, restaurants, etc., of which there are just a couple to begin with), so be sure to have food with you. I was personally saved by my Airbnb host’s instant ramen supply, for which I am eternally grateful. Kangerlussuaq is largely skippable except as a starting point for an ice sheet tour, a worthwhile experience to see a piece of our planet that may not be around for much longer.

Downtown Nuuk

Downtown Nuuk

Colourful residential buildings in Nuuk

Where to eat and drink

Cafe Iluliaq, Ilulissat

Inuit Cafe, Ilulissat

Koks, Ilimanaq

Killut Cafe, Nuuk

Daddy’s, Nuuk

Godthåb Bryghus, Nuuk

Sarfalik, Nuuk

Restaurant Charoen Porn, Nuuk

Kristinemut, Nuuk

Where to stay

Airbnb in central Ilulissat

Arctic Umiaq ferry (between Ilulissat and Nuuk)

Airbnb in Nuuk

In search of the path less traveled: Nicaragua

It will likely take you the whole day to get to Little Corn Island, a small speck of lush jungle meets hidden beaches, with just footpaths and boats to get around. The island is reachable only by boat from nearby Big Corn Island, itself accessible by ferry or flight from the mainland. Often the more difficult to reach places on this increasingly crowded planet are among the more alluring, and this is no exception.

Arriving to Little Corn Island

After 3 flights, a short group taxi, and a bumpy 45 minute boat ride run by some of the friendliest people around, all our weariness dissipated as we disembarked on Little Corn and walked a hundred metres or so to our lodging. Dropping off our bags, we ran out to the nearby beach to take a dip in the sea alongside the setting sun. Afterwards, we feasted on local seafood and pasta at the Italian-run Cafe Desideri, located among the cluster of eateries and sundry shops in town. By 10pm, every spot had closed, and most of the island was asleep amidst a calmness that is increasingly hard to find these days. No cars or motorbikes zoomed past in the night. Even a bicycle was a rare occurrence on an island on which everyone walks. And electricity on the island runs only at night.

Ferry arriving to Little Corn Island

We woke up early and excited for one of the purposes of our trip: scuba diving! Little Corn is surrounded by a shallow reef that is home to an abundance of sea creatures: octopus, turtles, lobster, crabs, shrimp, rays, nurse sharks, and more. We dove with Las Palmeras Dive Center, which is conveniently located and well-run. They typically offer two dives in the morning and a night dive departing just before sunset. The night dives were some of the best I’d experienced anywhere. We were treated to octopus sightings and flashes of bioluminescence when the moonlight disappeared behind some clouds in the sky above us, leaving us in darkness and better able to see the flashes of light all around. 

Beach cove along the northern coast of Little Corn Island, Nicaragua

Dirt trails run across the island through tropical forest filled with mango and other seasonal fruit, leading to small beach coves framed by palm trees.  Worth a visit are the northern beaches (reachable via a 20 minute walk from town past the local stadium, or via a short boat ride), featuring gentle waves great for swimming, a fish shack, and an upscale restaurant called Erizo (part of the Yemaya Reefs resort, the only one on the island). We savored the rondon, a traditional island seafood stew with root vegetables simmered in a coconut milk broth; a cucumber and kiwi salad with calala dressing; palm hearts and fruit ceviche. 

Walking path on Little Corn Island

Yemaya Reef, Little Corn

A few coves to the east is Derek’s Place, another lodging option with hammocks and a laid back vibe. Tracking back inland to then join a path leading to the windward side of the island, you’ll reach Little Corn Beach and Bungalow and its restaurant, the Turned Turtle, where you can eat delicious local specialties with your feet in the sand while watching the waves roll in (note: open for breakfast and lunch only). On our last evening on the island, we had dinner by the southern edge of town at the casual, family-run Melissa’s, serving perhaps the tastiest food around. Named after their young daughter, Melissa’s features fresh, locally caught fish and lobster as well as chicken, served as a stew with vegetables and rice. 

Losing track of time, Little Corn Island

We met a number of foreigners who had come to visit Little Corn, only to find themselves still there years later. The appeal of living on what can perhaps best be described as the edge of civilisation is strong, and it was with some regret that we took the boat back to Big Corn Island to continue our trip. We spent just one night on Big Corn, which was decidedly less charming. It did, however, feature one of the highlights of our trip: Bit Coin Island Bar. It’s a floating wooden bar located off of Arenas Beach (not to be confused with the impostor bar floating nearby, created to piggyback off the success of the original), and you reach it by standing on the beach and waving your arms until they see you and send a speedboat. We didn’t wait for more than a couple of minutes before being whisked away, and in no time at all we found ourselves in the care of Ana, the wonderful bartender who insisted on sharing playlists and dancing with us as the sun dipped below the horizon. 

Big Corn Island

Sunset, Arenas beach, Big Corn Island

The following day, we made our way to Granada, located on the shores of Lake Cocibolca, one of many towns known for its colourful architecture, checkered history, and vibrant community in which Nicaraguans and foreigners mingle. Nicaragua’s colonial past is predictably on display, and it’s easy to visit the main sights in a day or two. We stayed at the central and charmingly designed Casa del Consulado, featuring a refreshing pool in one of the courtyards. A block away is the central square, where you’ll find street vendors and the main cathedral. The nearby Garden Cafe is a great option for lunch and has delicious fruit juices and cocktails. For dinner, the more upscale NM Culinary features an inventive take on local specialties, or try one of the many options along the pedestrian-only Calle La Calzada. We enjoyed the old world charm of Hotel Dario, with an open air restaurant and cafe overlooking a lush central courtyard.

Granada’s vibrant central square

Horses ready for a ride, Granada

Calle La Calzada, Granada

Worth visiting are the Church of the Mercy and the Iglesia Xalteva, each featuring a small belltower from which you can see the expanse of the town leading to the surrounding Mombacho and Masaya volcanos. We also enjoyed a cool stroll around Casa Tres Mundos, one of the oldest buildings in Granada, which today hosts contemporary art exhibits. Afterwards, treat yourself to a cold chocolate from the nearby Bate Bate Chocolate cafe, or even a chocolate massage at the Mansion de Chocolate. Nicaragua is a significant producer of cocoa, and it’s a great gift for those back home. It was time for us, too, to head back home, but the country has so much more to offer. I like to leave something for next time in places I’ve enjoyed visiting, and that is certainly the case with Nicaragua. 

The past meets the present, Granada

Where to eat and drink

Cafe Desideri, Little Corn Island

Tranquilo Cafe, Little Corn Island

Melissa’s, Little Corn Island

Turned Turtle (part of the Little Corn Beach and Bungalow), Little Corn Island

Erizo (part of Yemaya Reefs - upscale), Little Corn Island

Bit Coin Bar, Big Corn Island

The Garden Cafe, Granada

Bate Bate Chocolate, Granada

NM Culinary, Granada

Hotel Dario, Granada

Where to stay

Sunshine Hotel, Little Corn Island

Little Corn Beach and Bungalow, Little Corn Island

Derek’s Place, Little Corn Island

Yemaya Reefs, Little Corn Island

Hotel Casa del Consulado, Granada

Uncharted territories: outer islands of the Socotra archipelago

On my last visit to Socotra two years ago, our guide casually mentioned one evening by our campfire that he wanted to organise a scuba diving trip to the outer islands of the archipelago: Abd al Kuri, Samhah and Darsah. The islands are largely uninhabited, save for a few dozen fishermen and their families. More excitingly, no recreational divers had ever been diving off these islands: they were essentially virgin diving territory, something that is next to impossible to find on our planet these days. Needless to say, I was in.

The prospect of being the first people to explore a small corner of the Earth had me excited for months prior to the expedition this spring. The diving off Socotra had been spectacular, with underwater fields of hard coral gardens exploding with color, shipwrecks slowly being taken over by the sea, and large schools of tropical fish unaccustomed to and unafraid of visitors to their depths. What would we find even further afield?

Fishing boats in the port of Qalansiyah, Socotra

The logistics of getting several divers, gear, tanks, a compressor to refill the tanks, a supply of food, and a vessel to transport it all to the outer islands turned out to be formidable. This is, after all, Yemen. Fortunately, our organiser, Piotr Pazola, speaks Arabic, has been to Socotra seven times, and knows what it takes to get things done. There is just one divemaster living on Socotra with a couple dozen tanks and a compressor, so we brought the rest of our gear. In recent years, the United Arab Emirates have been funding numerous development projects throughout Socotra, including a new military airport base on Abd al Kuri. As a result, after much back and forth over dinner and tea and more dinner and more tea, we received permission to travel to Samhah and Darsah aboard the dhow we had previously secured for the week.   

Our dhow near the port of Qalansiyah

We met the dhow at noon the following day in the port of Qalansiyah on the western end of Socotra, a few hours’ drive from the main settlement of Hadiboh. The captain, a half dozen or so male crew members, and three armed Yemeni soldiers helped load all of our supplies onto the dhow, and we set sail for Samhah. The dhow had an underbelly where everything was stored; a main level where we ate, lounged, and napped; and a small upper area that received much of the engine fumes and was as a result uninhabitable while the dhow was in motion. The “bathroom” was an open air semicircle, roughly waist height, attached to the outside of the main level with a hole in the middle. As there was no privacy on the dhow, we opted to camp on the islands at night.

Sunset from the dhow, Samhah

The bathroom on the dhow

After about six hours, we reached Samhah just as dusk enveloped the island in darkness. We stopped at the main fishing village on the island to declare our arrival to the local sheikh, an ancient-looking man who extended to us every kindness during our stay (though he did try to barter for one of the other female travellers to remain on Samhah as his companion). We set up camp on a beautiful stretch of beach backed by semi-desert and immediately jumped in for a night swim to cool off. To our delight, the sea around us came alive in numerous shades of bright blue in a grand display of bioluminescence. We fell asleep lulled by the sound of the waves crashing just beyond our sleeping bags. 

The beach where we camped on the island of Samhah

Local children, Samhah

For the next few days, we explored Samhah and Darsah, diving three to four times a day from morning to night and enjoying meals of freshly caught fish on the beach in between. The diving did not disappoint: we saw turtles, rays, moray eels, barracuda, curious white-tipped reef sharks, nudibranchs galore, stonefish, scorpionfish, bubble algae, and more. On one dive, a pair of sand sharks chased each other round in circles; on another, an enormous school of glass fish ebbed and flowed around giant coral heads. In these moments, there is nothing else but the now as you breathe, take in your surroundings, and recognise how lucky you are to exist in this beautiful world.

Coves on Darsah

Returning from a dive all smiles

We named one particularly beautiful site Polish Garden, as the first recreational divers to ever dive the site. We also dove the wreck of a giant bulk carrier that had run aground 10 years prior and was now distributed just below the surface at about 10m, encrusted with coral and giant clams as the sea slowly took it over. Schools of grunt hovered around the former bridge of the ship, and we moved to and fro with the waves as we approached the shallows of the wreck. In between dives, we enjoyed being the only humans for miles as we walked along deserted, postcard-perfect beaches, explored sea caves, and watched the sun set over the mountainous interiors of the islands. Our days finished with simply grilled fish as we watched a multitude of stars migrate overhead before falling asleep on the sand. 

Lunch

Scuba diving a shipwreck off Samhah island

On our final day, as we motored away from Darsah, the clouds above the island briefly assumed the shape of a vintage tea kettle, with a genie billowing out from it in white wisps. Make a wish, the genie beckoned. Anything you want. 

I made my wish. A few minutes later, the cloud was back to a simple tea kettle, giving off a few puffs of steam.

A deserted beach on Darsah island