VagabondsUSA

UNDERSTANDING THE ISLE OF MAN

graynomadsusa — Mon, 16 Feb 2026 20:04:00 GMT

If you are traveling with a car, the only way to get from “mainland” England to the Isle of Man is by ferry. For us this meant a four-hour crossing from Liverpool to Douglas on the Steam Packet vessel “Manxman;” the speedier “Manannan” runs only from March to October. As veterans of some horribly memorable ferry rides, we were a bit leery of facing the Irish Sea in mid-winter but the crossing was especially calm.

We had great views from our seats near “Manxman’s” bow windows, mostly of Irish Sea drilling platforms, wind farms and a few birds we hadn’t seen in a while; Guillemots, Dovekies, Gannets and a European Shag.

Our AirBnB in Douglas couldn’t have a more convenient location—just ten minutes from the ferry terminal and a block from the seaside Promenade. It even offered a much-appreciated washer/dryer. Parking was a little tight, but a car is essential on an island, even one only 30-miles long and a third as wide. Getting around should be a snap.

Everything Manx is confusing—Manx being anything referring to the Isle of Man—like the Manx shearwater or the tail-less Manx cat. In Manx Gaelic, the Isle of Man is Ellan Vannin or just Mannin, a reference, possibly, to a Celtic sea god. The origin of the “Three Legs of Man” triskelion that appears everywhere is equally obscure. Everyone does agrees that its inscription, “Quocunque Jeceris Stabit,” (“Whithersoever you throw it, it will stand”) symbolizes the Islands independence and resilience.

While not part of the United Kingdom, the Isle of Man is a British self-governing Crown Dependency whose head of state is the Lord of Man, formerly Queen Elizabeth but now King Charles III. The governing body, the 24-member Tynwald, is the oldest continuous parliament in the world. It consists of the Legislative Council and the House of Keys—but no one is certain if “keys” is a bastardization of old Norse, Manx Gaelic or, improbably, Latin.

We threw up our hands in despair and decided to explore the island despite our confusion.

WHICH EUROPEAN CITY HAS THE MOST CANALS?

graynomadsusa — Sat, 14 Feb 2026 20:02:00 GMT

A) AMSTERDAM B) BIRMINGHAM V) VENICE

I wore my hat and gloves as we walked along Birmingham’s Waterfront Walk on this Valentine’s Day morning. John followed sheepishly behind, shivering. As quiet and scenic as the canals were this morning, in its heyday the canal system supplied Birmingham with coal, iron and heavy machinery and carried the city’s finished goods to market.

For 170 years the canals were bustling with activity, carrying 8½ million tons of goods by the beginning of the 20th Century. But canals were expensive to build and maintain and their use declined as railroads captured the long-distance transportation of more goods. After all commercial traffic stopped in 1980 many of the canals fell into disrepair. Many have been recently restored and are enjoyed by walkers, cyclists and narrowboat owners. The Waterfront Walk is very “des res,” desirable residence in realtor-speak, with shops, restaurants and bars. Even a Legoland.®

The trivia question answer is “It depends.” Birmingham has more than 100 navigable miles of waterways compared with about sixty in Amsterdam and just twenty five in Venice. But, Birmingham has only six canals, while Amsterdam boasts 165 and Venice claims between 150 and 177.

J.W. EVANS SILVER FACTORY—MADE IN BIRMINGHAM

graynomadsusa — Fri, 13 Feb 2026 19:57:00 GMT

“There was never nothing exported from Britain that there wasn’t a factory in Birmingham that manufactured it, you know.” proclaims a sign in the Birmingham Museum. Late in the 18th Century Birmingham’s “Golden Boys,” Matthew Boulton, William Murdoch and James Watt, transformed the city into a manufacturing powerhouse, “The Workshop of the World.”

A worker’s life during the Industrial Revolution was a hard one; the hours were long, the pay was low and the work was dangerous. In the northern textile factories unskilled men—and women and children, too—worked long hours at machines they did not own producing a single product like cotton fabric. In Birmingham skilled craftsmen also worked long hours but in small workshops, often in their homes. Each worker would carry out one process—drawing designs, making dies, forming the pieces, then assembling, plating and polishing them. Small factories emerged in the 19th century, bringing processes together under one roof. They specialized in finished, high-value metal goods, including guns, buttons, “toys,” brass, electroplating and jewelry, making Birmingham the “City of a Thousand Trades.”

The J.W. Evans Silver Factory English Heritage Site is the reason we are in Birmingham. It was—and still is—located in the Jewelry Quarter, a neighborhood of ordinary 1830s homes with workshops extending unseen from the rear of the houses. The founder, Jenkins Jones Evans, began as an apprentice with a firm that recognized his potential, sent him to art school and loaned him the money to start his own business in 1881 as one of their suppliers. Evans extended his shop into the backyard, bought three houses next door and by 1900 was employing 60 men, women and children.

J.W. Evans specialized in silver and silver-plate tableware—candlesticks, sauce bowls, grape scissors, candle snuffers and much more for Edwardian families who were keeping up appearances. Each piece required a specific “die,” a relief mould of steel with the pattern painstakingly chiseled into it—JW Evans has 15,000! A silver sheet placed above the die was then“sunk” into shape by a guillotine-like drop stamp whose heavy hammerhead with the reverse image of the die is dropped repeatedly pressing out the final shape.

The component pieces then had to be soldered, filed, cleaned and polished. Less expensive pieces that were made with a base metal rather than silver were electroplated with a silver finish. The women that Evans employed used the lighter fly presses for the cutting of designs and intricate patterns.

Business slowed after the Great War when the number of “stately homes” declined due to the high upkeep costs. Inexpensive mass-produced stainless steel items began to replace silver tableware while washing machines, cars and vacuum cleaners became the new status symbols.

Jenkins grandson, Tony, kept the business alive from 1955 until 2008 when J.W. Evans ceased operations. English Heritage stepped in and with Tony’s assistance, the J. W. Evans Silver Factory became an English Heritage Site, one of the most complete remaining factories in Birmingham’s historic Jewelry Quarter. After extensive but necessary repairs—a leaking roof, structural supports, reconditioning the drop stamps, removal of hazardous materials and the like—the decision was made to “conserve as found.” After everything was examined and catalogued it was left just as it was when Tony closed the shop for the last time—tools, dies, sketches, invoices—EVERYTHING!

The second rule for visitors is “Don’t Touch!” The first rule is dress warmly. There was no heating in Edwardian times—and there ain’t none now!

BIRMINGHAM MUSEUM AND ART GALLERY

graynomadsusa — Thu, 12 Feb 2026 19:56:00 GMT

When Connie said there was an English Heritage site in Birmingham she wanted to visit, my mind pictured the steel mills and belching smokestacks of Pittsburgh. It took only one look at our penthouse AirBnB to dispel that notion; a full kitchen, spacious bathroom, a comfy bed and a wonderful view from the balcony. Covered parking meant we could avoid the nightmare of driving in Birmingham. And if that wasn’t enough, a walk along the Gas Basin Canal in the sunshine might make you consider becoming a full-time Brummie. . . if only there were more sunny days.

From the outside the Birmingham Museum and Art Gallery is Georgian. Inside it’s Art Nouveau meets the Industrial Age. And Birmingham’s museum has one of the most eclectic collections we’ve ever seen—from stylish “toys” like vesta cases for lucifer matches to the 7th Century Staffordshire Hoard of Anglo-Saxon gold and sliver; from an exhibit of pre-Raphaelite paintings to a retrospective of Ozzie Osborne plus the very unexpected “Elephant Room” with its collection of things of dubious provenance.

I don’t have to tell you why we skipped the Ozzie Osborne exhibit, do I? We did spend some time with the “pre-Raphaelites,” a group of English painters, poets, and art critics from the mid-1800s who sought a return to the fine details and intense colors of Raphael’s fifteenth century Italian art. I didn’t recognize many of the artists but there were a few paintings that particularly appealed to us.

The Staffordshire Hoard was a revelation, however. Discovered in a farmer’s field in 2009 by an amateur with a metal detector, the treasure is the largest trove of Anglo-Saxon gold ever found in Britain. The collection consist of 4000 pieces from an estimated 700 objects, only two of which were found intact. The hoard was buried between 650-675 AD at a time of spiritual and cultural change, probably to protect and conceal the most valuable things during those uncertain times.

While many of the pieces are from ancient swords, archeologists determined that nearly one-third of the fragments in the Museum’s collection came from a single helmet, similar in construction and status to the one found at Sutton Hoo. I can’t imagine the dedication it took, even with cutting-edge technology, to create a picture of the helmet from more than 1000 pieces, let alone the skill required to recreate the model on display.

The Elgin Marbles at the British Museum aren’t unique; many museums have pieces in their collections that weren’t collected totally according to Hoyle, pieces they wouldn’t—or couldn’t—collect today. While many museums in the US have returned Native American objects to their rightful owners, never have we seen an exhibit like “The Elephant in the Room,” one in which the museum displays objects from its own collection that have dubious provenance. Some were collected without permits or permission; others were legally purchased with funds obtained through nefarious means. Well done, Ms. Curator.

“RAPHAEL CARTOONS” AT THE V&A

graynomadsusa — Mon, 9 Feb 2026 19:55:00 GMT

We braved the cold after lunch and walked to the Victoria and Albert to spend some time exploring the V&A’s goodies. As we worked our way down through rooms of furniture, ceramics, glass, ironworks and about a million other items, we were often lured into the next room, then another until we were completely disoriented. We didn’t visit ALL 145 galleries—I doubt that anyone has—but we were still overwhelmed. Even without reading the signs we were able to recognize furniture designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, ceramic tiles from Iznik in Turkey, glazed Renaissance reliefs by Florentine Lucia della Robbia, sculptures by Auguste Rodin and the distinctive blown-glass of Dale Chihuly.

It was really the Raphael Cartoons we came to see. Not Mickey Mouse or Porky Pig, “cartoons” in the Renaissance were full-scale drawings on paper used as templates to transfer the design onto its final surface. Leonardo used a cartoon to transfer the design for his “Last Supper” to the walls of Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milan; Raphael’s Cartoons were designs for ten tapestries commissioned by Pope Leo X depicting the lives of Peter and Paul, the founding fathers of the Christian Church, to be hung in the Sistine Chapel.

While Leonardo’s cartoon for the “Last Supper” has been lost, seven of Raphael’s ten cartoons are on display in the V&A’s Raphael Court, including all four dealing with Saint Peter and three of the six showing Saint Paul. While created as guides for the finished tapestries, Raphael’s Cartoons stand on their own as works of art.

The original tapestries were woven from silk, wool and gold and silver thread in Brussels in the workshop of Pieter van Aelst, “Tapestry Maker to the Pope.” Other versions were made in other workshops, one of which hangs opposite its cartoon in Raphael Court. It didn’t take us long to realize that the tapestry for “The Miraculous Draught of Fishes” was a mirror image of its cartoon, something Raphael had to take into account when creating the design. Another thing we noticed, the provenance for the cartoons has recently been changed from “Lent By Her Majesty The Queen” to “Lent By His Majesty The King.” Even museums have to keep up to date!

CHERRY-PICKING THE BRITISH MUSEUM

graynomadsusa — Sun, 8 Feb 2026 19:53:00 GMT

Maybe our time in Africa and the Middle East thinned our blood but I felt chilled to the bone as we walked from the Metro through Russel Park to the British Museum. It seems, though, that the crocuses and daffodils hadn’t gotten the word that it’s still winter.

The Museum was open for business today, as it is almost every day of the year—except when we tried to visit in December. This would be our fourth or fifth visit and there were only a few things we really wanted to see—some again and others for the first time.

The first thing that caught our eye was “Hoa Hakananai’a,” a ‘moai’ from Rapa Nui. We have been to Easter Island and seen the giant moai statues but Hoa Hakananai’a is different. It has been in the Museum for more than 150 years, protected from the elements. And unlike the moai on Rapa Nui, Hoa Hakananai’a has carvings on its back, something we’ve never seen.

Our friend Rose, the archivist, gushed about the Museum’s recently re-opened Reading Room so we had to take a look. Rose wasn’t the only one impressed—there are comments on display from Virginia Woolf, Carl Marx and even Sherlock Holmes.

The dispute between Greece and the British Museum over the Parthenon Sculptures has been on-going since Greek independence in 1830. Previously known as the Elgin Marbles, the sculptures that once adorned the Parthenon were “given” to Lord Elgin by the Ottoman officials who occupied Athens in the early 1800s and Elgin later sold them to the Museum. Greece claims the Ottoman’s had no right to surrender the sculptures and the Museum says they were obtained legally and are better protected right where they are.

While British archeologists have long had a reputation for taking things that are not theirs, the Sutton Hoo treasure is truly a part of British history. The Sutton Hoo hoard, like the famous Lewis Chessmen which we had also seen in Edinburgh, were discovered on (or under) British soil. Both the Chessmen and the Sutton Hoo helmet were part of the Museum’s “History of the World in 100 Objects” which aired on BBC Four back in 2010. It’s worth a listen if you can find the podcast.

LONDON REPRISE

graynomadsusa — Sat, 7 Feb 2026 19:51:00 GMT

Even though getting our visas for China isn’t in the cards, there is plenty to keep us busy in London. After all, nine million people call London home—and 40% of them weren’t born in the UK. Add the visitors from around the world and it isn’t surprising that English isn’t one of the more common 250 languages spoken in England. I actually did a double-take when I heard the little girl ask, “Daddy, can I have some more?”

We are staying at Courtfield Gardens in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, just around the corner from where we stayed in December. It’s an upscale neighborhood of traditional “terraced” houses, so posh that there is a Morgan dealership in one of the nearby mews with a dozen new and vintage cars costing up to $175,000! Our studio flat is on the pricey side, too, but it has a real kitchen with an oven and induction range and I have been cooking up a storm! And with two metro stations just minutes away, we can go anywhere easily.

A straight shot on the Circle Line took us to Jewel Tower, strategically tucked away between the House of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. Not to be confused with the Tower of London’s Jewel House where the Crown Jewels are stored, Jewel Tower was built in the mid-1300s and has served many roles, from housing the personal treasures of England’s monarchs to storing and testing the official weights and measures of the kingdom. Henry VIII had the treasures moved elsewhere but some of the original weights and measures that make the metric system so logical are on display. The Cubic Centimeter, for example, can be converted directly to liquid volume and weight. One cubic centimeter of liquid equals one milliliter and 1000 ml is a liter. If the liquid is water, one cc or ml will weigh exactly one gram so a liter weighs in at one kilogram. Why the Brits weigh themselves in stones is still a puzzlement.

With umbrellas held high we walked past the recently scrubbed Elizabeth Tower with its clock and the 13 ton Great Bell called Big Ben, stopped for a photo of the London Eye and continued up to Nelson’s Column in Trafalgar Square before the cold rain sent us scurrying back to the Tube and home.

AL ZUBARAH FORT AND ARCHEOLOGICAL SITE

graynomadsusa — Tue, 3 Feb 2026 19:49:00 GMT

Yesterday the hotel arranged for Faisal to drive us to the Al Zubarah Fort and Archeological Site about 100 kilometers from the city. The roads are amazingly good, traffic after rush-hour non-existent but there isn’t much to see. A thriving pearl fishing center in the 17th and 18th Centuries, Al Zubarah became Qatar’s first UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2017, but it still has some issues to work out. We two and Faisal were the only visitors but we had to wait nearly two hours to take the guided tour of the archeological site. During the down-time we ate lunch and watched a well-done video explaining the Al Zubarah story. Most impressive was the factoid that only one out of five thousand oysters produced a pearl! If they had only known that a dozen on the half-shell at Grand Central Oyster Bar in NYC are going for $20!

Al Zubarah is a huge area mostly surrounded by limestone walls dotted with crumbling guard towers to protect the wealthy pearl merchants from marauding pirates. Some of the buildings must have been palatial with 40 or more rooms. I can’t imagine working as an archeologist at Al Zubarah. It would be daunting—an endless job like Sisyphus and his rock.

We had planned on visiting the National Museum of Qatar today to see some artifacts from Al Zubarah, only to learn it’s closed on Tuesday. Oh well, only two of its galleries are open and bits and pieces from the 18th Century can’t be very interesting he said, echoing Aesop’s fox and the grapes.

Instead we wandered around the massive Souk Waqif. In addition to stalls selling “many things you do not need,” textiles, ornate abayas, pots, pans, stoves and more, Waqif Souq has a an entire section devoted to falcons and falconry. Evolved from Bedouin survival hunting into a modern sport symbolizing Arab heritage, pride and status, falconry has been a cultural tradition for 5000 years. In addition to the hoods, jesses, leashes, gloves, mews and other paraphernalia of falconry, the Falcon Souk sells birds; from tiny kestrels to coveted peregrines and giant gyrfalcons. There is even a government-funded hospital for treating falcons.

Nearby we found the stables where the horses and camels Connie had seen on display on her early morning walk. It was refreshing to see well-treated camels with simple hobbles to keep them in check, rather than the cruel way they were treated at the Camel Market in Buraidah.

And speaking of birds . . . we hiked to Al Bidda Park where Connie had a tip on some recent sightings of Masked Shrikes. And, yes, we saw one—even got photos. Along with the seven she bagged in Saudi, her total now is 6466 and the last eight were free!

TWENTY YEARS LATER

graynomadsusa — Sun, 1 Feb 2026 19:47:00 GMT

The State of Qatar has been independent only since 1971. Along with Bahrain, Qatar decided against becoming another United Arab Emirate and the road less traveled has paid off royally. Like its Gulf neighbors, Qatar has grown rich on fossil fuels, especially natural gas but when we briefly visited twenty years ago, it seemed to have just lifted its head out of the desert sand. I say “briefly” because with the Doha 2006 Asian Games only days away—who knew?—hotel rates had tripled from what we expected. All the taxi drivers were in training for the expected crowds. The looks we got from the men just after Friday noon prayers—we saw no women that day—made us feel like the infidel outsiders we were. So, tails between our legs, we hotfooted it back to the airport and flew to Oman.

Doha today is a much different place—more people live in Doha now, about one million, than were in the entire country back in ‘06. Only one in five is a Qatari citizen so we don’t feel too out of place. Expats, who do all the heavy lifting, can make around $3000 a month while Qatari families average more than $200K annually, giving Qatar the fourth-highest GDP in the world. Doha—the entire country, for that matter—is modern with an impressive skyline, shopping malls and a burgeoning tourist industry. And it’s still growing!

Doha’s corniche is pristine compared to that of Cairo. Lots of green, no crumbling walkways, dhows of all shapes and sizes and the ever-present Doha skyline across the water. Memorializing the pearling history of Qatar is a giant oyster with a one-in-5000 pearl.

Ramada Encore is a bit out of the way but just a 15-minute walk from the restaurants and shops of Souk Waqif. The I. M. Pei-designed Museum of Islamic Art, where we spent much of Sunday, is across the busy road from the souq on the Corniche. There are scads of mom-and-pop groceries around and the Ramada even has a decent room service menu.

Whatever we missed in Riyadh with Thamer’s lectures on Islam and Mohammed (PBUH!) was covered in minute detail in the Museum of Islamic Art. And then some! Truth be told, we wanted to visit as much to see the architecture of I. M. Pei—who designed the Louvre’s (in)famous Pyramid—as the art itself but the museum turned out to be a gem. In addition to countless pages of Islamic calligraphy from the Qur’an, there is the actual textile which decorated the tomb of the Prophet in Medina, another that covered the door of the stone Ka’ba in the center of the Masjid al-Haram in Mecca and an actual Umra scroll recording a pilgrimage to Mecca.

JEDDAH

graynomadsusa — Fri, 30 Jan 2026 19:13:00 GMT

Our final day on the bus was relatively short—just over six hours from Al Bahah to Jeddah. I calculated the road distance between the cities that we visited from Riyadh to Jeddah at around 2000 kilometers. Adding in all the side trips and back-and-forths, the driver said he actually drove nearly 3500 KM. That’s almost 2200 miles in less than two weeks!

We arrived in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia’s second largest city, just before four yesterday afternoon, dropped off our luggage and set out with Lynn to stretch our legs along the corniche. We weren’t alone. Young couples and Saudi families spread out their carpets, unfolded beach chairs and laid out picnics on the grass while kids cavorted on the jungle gyms. As we were on our way to McDonalds for Double Cheeseburgers and Fries—pathetic, isn’t it—King Fahad Fountain across the bay began shooting water more than 1000 feet into the air making for a great sunset photo.

This morning we joined a local guide on a sightseeing ride around Jeddah, ending at the Central Fish Market. While the guide pointed out this building and that hotel most of us were busy taking photos of the sculptures in the roundabouts, something we’ve noticed throughout the Gulf Countries.

While the Central Fish Market is busy every day, the Muslim holy day of Friday is especially chaotic. Friday is fish night and everyone wants the freshest. I could identify tuna, grouper, parrot fish, sardines and some others along with tons of shrimp, squid and even crabs. In one section workers—expats with curved knives—gutted, filleted and sliced the catch; even the heads and guts are saved for chowder. Surprisingly, there was no fishy smell, attesting to the freshness of the seafood.

Many sites in Saudi Arabia have a thing against “professional cameras,” basically anything other than a cell phone, so I didn’t bother going into the Floating Mosque which seems to float only at high tide. Instead I drooled over the boats docked at the Jeddah Yacht Club.

Following an afternoon break at the hotel we picked up another guide for a stroll on the corniche and a walking tour of Jeddah’s Old Town. Through the haze we could see Jeddah Tower which will be the tallest building in the world when finished in 2028. Towering more than a kilometer, it will be two football fields taller than Burj Khalifa in Dubai.

Our first stop in Old Town was the brand new Red Sea Museum, nicely done but a little short on exhibits. Once through “Bab Makkah”, the Mecca Gate, Old Jeddah was crowded—remember, it’s Friday—and was pretty much what we expected. One surprise was that our guide used to live there with her grandparents. Their house is still standing, barely, but is on the Tourism Board’s list of those to be restored.

After the requisite coffee stop and 40 minutes for shopping we, too, went out for a Friday fish dinner on the corniche. We shared grouper, sea bass, prawns, pita and fries served family-style—careful to avoid fish bones. It must have been a good meal—no one even hesitated at Baskin-Robbins for ice cream on the walk back to the hotel.

THE HERITAGE VILLAGE OF THEE AIN

graynomadsusa — Wed, 28 Jan 2026 19:12:00 GMT

The thirty-kilometer drive from Al Bahah to the Heritage Village of Thee Ain took us more than an hour this morning. The vertigo-inducing road has 25 tunnels, countless switchback turns, crosses 60 bridges and descends nearly 1500 meters from Al Bahah.

Thee Ain (or Zee Ain or Dhi Ayn or ذي عين) has been around since the 8th Century and is named for the continuously flowing spring, ‘ain,’ that supplies water to the oasis. After a tour of the brand new, multi-media museum we hiked up the narrow alleys, climbed steep stairways though two- and three-storey houses and past the marble slab that supplied the white stone decorations around the village. The current town is dates to Ottoman times but one inscribed lintel is thought to be 2000 years old. Several of the homes are being repaired using the original stone and building techniques including some very strange stairways. Some of the nicely decorated wooden doors and windows appear to be original, too, as does the tiny mosque with its two niches—the mihrab which faces Mecca and another for the imam to sit.

After an obligatory climb to the source of the spring, we were treated to an al fresco lunch along the stream overlooking the oasis. Yannis says this is the only place in the country where he has heard the sound of burbling water.

Back on the bus we followed our local guide’s Land Cruiser where we transferred to some waiting 4X4s for the cork-screwing climb up the narrow—sometimes paved, sometimes rock—nearly vertical road to the Caves Resort, 1700 meters high in Jabal Shada Nature Reserve. Stuck in the Toyota’s “way back” I had all I could do just to hang on tight.

Caves Resort is a bit of Bedrock without Fred and Barney. The en-suite rooms are either carved into the rock or natural caves—charming, but not my style. During the welcoming coffee—dark roasted local beans—and dates the old man playing the flute told us he was born in one of the caves.

Sometimes our short hike through the rocks felt like we were bouldering, other times like we were spelunkers and we constantly had to watch both our step and our heads. A few of the group said this was their favorite part of the whole trip. Afterwards our hosts fed us small portions of chicken and vegetable stew with a very tasty traditional homemade bread followed by a farewell cup of tea. We said our “Shkrans” and Asalamas” and took the 4X4s to the bus, then up the winding canyon road, over the bridges and through the tunnels to our hotel in Al Bahah. Another long day—but a good one.

YANBU TO AL BAHAH

graynomadsusa — Tue, 27 Jan 2026 19:11:00 GMT

Yesterday was pretty much a fill-in day—some swimming and snorkeling followed by an overnight in Yanbu on the Red Sea. Connie and I skipped the swimming—it was quite comfortable in the shade on the boat. There was nothing formal planned for Yanbu so after checking in to the Canary Beach Hotel we walked to the historic part of town, searching for the home of T.E. “Lawrence of Arabia.” His home has been renovated and the rest of the neighborhood will be charming with a little TLC. We exited the tiny souk right into a pizza stand—kismet?—and had a veggie pizza on the corniche before retuning to the hotel.

The long drive from sea level Yanbu to Al Bahah at nearly 7000 feet in the mountains was made even longer because non-Muslims like us must detour around Mecca via Taif where we stopped to stretch our legs with a stroll through the souk. We were anxious to get to the hotel after so many hours on the bus but Yannis had another stop planned. Bakrosh Ben Allas Heritage Castle was constructed as a defense against a Ottoman attempt to retake Mecca and Medina from the First Saudi State. Worn out as we were, we all were glad we braved the chilly wind and climbed to the top of the site, the only worthwhile stop of the day. But it meant we didn’t arrive at the National Park Hotel until nearly eight o’clock. The wonderful buffet almost made up for the long day.

MEDINA

graynomadsusa — Sun, 25 Jan 2026 19:10:00 GMT

It was bitter cold this morning when we gathered for a group photo before starting the long drive to Medina. Along the way Yannis organized a brief stop at an isolated station on the Ottoman-built Hejaz railway, interesting only because a similar train was destroyed in the Battle of Abu el Lissan by none other than Lawrence of Arabia. Guess we’ll have to watch the movie again.

Al-Madinah al-Munawwarah, "The Enlightened City of Medina,” is Islam’s second most important city. The area in front of Masjid Shuhada Uhud, Mosque of the Martyrs of Uhud, was crowded with Muslim pilgrims from all over the globe when we finally arrived. The men all wore traditional thobe and the women were dressed in abayas, all except one of our own who refused and shall remain nameless. Rula, our local guide, soon found us among the crowd—not that we stood out or anything—and explained the significance or the Mosque of the Martyrs and the battle fought on nearby Archer’s Hill. We men removed our shoes and followed Yannis through the main entrance while Rula led the ladies to their side of the mosque.

I admit to being “mosqued-out.” After visiting mosques in Abu Dhabi, Jerusalem and Istanbul there aren’t many that can impress us. Even Masjid Quba, on the site of the first mosque established by Mohammed, was built in 2017. The Prophet’s Mosque, while impressive in size, is off limits to us non-believers. We watched as the faithful poured by and the men queued up to enter—women must pray outside of the mosque—then sampled dates from the line of shops across from the mosque.

The itinerary had us dining with a local family but I must have missed the part where it said it was Rula’s house in an upscale suburb of Medina. Over welcoming coffee and dates, Rula told us about her life and her five kids while her husband dutifully stood by. Dinner was wonderful with a variety of traditional dishes but the downside is we didn’t return to the hotel until nearly ten.

OLD TOWN AL’ULA, MARAYA THEATER AND SOME OTHER STUFF

graynomadsusa — Sat, 24 Jan 2026 19:07:00 GMT

In 1983, with the mud-brick buildings crumbling around them, the last inhabitants of “Old Town” moved to the new Al’Ula city center. Much of the old town is still crumbling but a few of the buildings have been restored for tourists. We followed our guide through a maze of alleyways, eventually coming to a steep stairway that led us to the remains of the Nabatean fort where the views of the oasis with its date trees contrasted with the fallen roofs and crumbling walls of the town. Back at street level we were free to wander until lunch when we would gather at the Pink Camel for an over-priced lunch. While Connie and Lynn ate fruit taken from the breakfast buffet, I splurged on an $18 grilled cheese sandwich and a peach iced tea.

With time to kill before our timed visit to the Maraya Theater complex, Yannis suggested stopping at Desert X Al’Ula, an exhibition of contemporary art installations in nearby Wadi AlFann. The 50 Riyal price included golf carts to reach the more remote sites but even so we walked nearly four miles. And it was worth it! I used the Rick Steves’ method of art appreciation and just reacted to the pieces and not trying to figure out what the artist had in mind. We could hear some of the art long before we saw it, some were more meaningful than others but just the concept of making art this large in such a remote area was mind-boggling.

Maraya Theater is billed as the largest mirrored building in the world—and I can believe it. But our visit seemed mandated—Maraya was funded by the government after all and the Royal Family has a permeant box in the theater. It would be an embarrassment if no one came, much like the performers who have cancelled dates at the once-and-future Kennedy Center in Washington DC.

Some folks in the group were adamant that we stop at Elephant Rock, a formation that supposedly looks like, well . . . an elephant. We were skeptical but as it turns out Elephant Rock is a big evening attraction for Saudis. It is lighted at night with seating recessed into the ground to deflect the ever-present wind. There are numerous coffee shops, food stalls and places offering shisha water pipes to enjoy while chatting with friends. We didn’t stay long, just long enough to say that, yes, it is an elephant.

HEGRA

graynomadsusa — Fri, 23 Jan 2026 19:05:00 GMT

The Saudi Arabia trip really began for me in Al’Ula, an oasis that encompasses both the old and new towns of Al’Ula, the UNESCO World Heritage site of Hegra and a few attractions we weren’t aware of. Think of it as Canyonlands NP meets Monument Valley with a little Mesa Verde thrown in for flavor. Each excursion begins and ends with the bone-jarring 20-minute bus ride from our base at Arch Mountain Camp to the main road.

Al’Ula has been settled for more than 7000 years, from the time when today’s underground water was an actual lake. Hegra, Saudi Arabia’s first World Heritage site, like its more famous big sister, Petra, was an important stop on the Incense Road from Yemen to Istanbul. Hegra, like Petra, is known for its many elaborate tombs carved into the sandstone.

Our local guide, Omar, met us at the Visitor Center and shepherded us onto the smaller tourist bus to the “Parliament Building” at the end of a short, narrow canyon—a miniature version of the iconic, mile-long siq to Petra’s “Treasury.” Yannis started the day as just another tourist but quickly began filling in the gaps in Omar’s rendition. The other tombs in the area were well done with intricately carved cornices and several, like Jabal Alahmar, Al Banat and the Tomb of Lihyan son of Kuz, were named. The museum had an AI-generated likeness of Hinat, a prominent female leader who was interred in the “Women’s Rock.” As Connie and I walked around the Lonely Castle, one of the more impressive sandstone monoliths, we could see the erosion from the flash-flooding that happens with heavy desert rains. Hegra’s future may be in jeopardy.

For some reason the “Lion’s Tombs” of Dadan seem to attract more attention than the others at Hegra. Seen from a distance they are just a few holes carved into the face of the cliff. Even up-close, it takes a bit of imagination to discern the four lions carved above the openings.It is believed that the lion carvings indicated the importance of those entombed there and protected them.

It was a bit of a hike to the “Open Library,” an extensive area of rock carvings, many showing bas-relief examples of pre-Arabic writing. One of the our favorites was of a very life-like cow. Our final stop was a hands-on opportunity to make our own rock carvings but Connie, Lynn and I bowed out. It seemed kind of hokey and I, for one, have no artistic talent.

The road back to camp seemed even rougher in the dark and we ate another late dinner before climbing into a very cold bed. Thank the gods for the heater and the hot shower.

CARVED IN STONE

graynomadsusa — Thu, 22 Jan 2026 19:04:00 GMT

The UNESCO World Heritage Site at Jubbah may be the largest petroglyph site in Saudi Arabia but all it did was whet our appetite for AlUla. As with rock art we have seen around the world, the the artists will remain forever unknown and the meaning behind the carvings is open for interpretation. The recurring theme is the camel, important even 10,000 years ago. The earliest carvings show one-humped Arabian camels while later versions depict camels with riders. Other panels portrayed hunters with bow and arrow—whether recording successful hunts or as blessings for future success we will never know. There are numerous inscriptions written in pre-Arabic scripts which, of course, we couldn’t read. The most iconic petroglyph in Jubba his of a chariot pulled by two horses, probably carved around 5000 BC after the invention of the wheel.

After another long drive with a stop in the desert to eat whatever was purchased at the petrol station (or stolen from breakfast) we arrived at Arch Mountain Camp where we will spend the next three nights. The final kilometers on teeth-jarring washboard road take nearly 20 minutes but we arrived early enough to take the six-kilometer hike to Rainbow Arch (from whence the Camp gets its name) before dinner. As we hiked out a herd of camels came trotting by followed by a Lawrence of Arabia-type riding a camel. In the fading sunlight the arch wasn’t much to see but the walk, even in desert sand, felt good after the long ride.

Accommodations consist of Bedouin-style tents with carpeted floors. The beds are made of woven palm fibers with a thin mattress pad and thick duvet. At first the beds seemed unreasonably hard but I have seldom slept better—it was very reminiscent of our first years of tent camping. Each tent has an air-con/heater, a mini-fridge and an attached bathroom, partially open to the sky. It’s cold in the morning but the wonderful rain-shower has plenty of hot water. Breakfast and buffet dinner are served in the dining tent. The food is good, varied and plentiful and, to our surprise, Yannis is a skilled omelet-maker.

BURAIDAH CAMEL MARKET

graynomadsusa — Wed, 21 Jan 2026 19:03:00 GMT

Ushaiqer Heritage Village, about 120 mies north of Riyadh, is one of the oldest towns in the Naid region of Saudi Arabia. In its day Ushaiqer was a major stopping point for Kuwaiti, Iraqi and Iranian pilgrims on the way to Mecca to perform Hajj. Now it is best known for its original mud-brick buildings—or what’s left of them. Old mud-brick buildings are a rarity. Without constant care they soon return to their native state, dirt, so some of the homes, the mosque and well have been restored. One house that received a lot of TLC belonged to Shaikh Ibrahim bin Saleh Aleisa and we were able to see how the wealthier folks in Ushaiqer lived.

Besides oil, Saudi Arabia is known for its dates and Yannis was adamant that we stop at the market to sample some before going to the hotel. We’ve eaten “raw” dates in Egypt but had no idea that there were so many varieties and flavors. My new friend Abdullah brought out platters of dates dripping with honey, dates dipped in sesame paste and who knows what else.

The Best Western in Buraidah was quite nice but creature comforts weren’t the reason Yannis picked it. It happens to be about 20 minutes from the world’s largest camel market, open Saturday through Thursday from six until eight. AM! There are about two-million camels roaming around Saudi Arabia but all are owned by someone and this is the place to trade them.

If there was any order to the proceedings, it was lost on us. Small groups gathered around a camel, or a female and calf, haggling over price until the owner raised his stick to announce the winner and collected his money. A truck-mounted craned lifted the sold camel into the new owners truck when the deal was done. Meanwhile camels with hind legs trussed brayed loudly as they struggled vainly to stand. Males in heat literally foamed at the mouth when they sensed receptive females—some even managed to do the deed.

With camel meat selling for $15 a kilo, most of these animals will find their was to the table. Although we didn’t see any, racing camels can fetch hundreds of thousands of dollars. We didn’t stick around long enough to see what happens to the unsold merchandise but I assume it was put back on the shelf for another day.

SAUDI ARABIA: RIYADH

graynomadsusa — Mon, 19 Jan 2026 19:01:00 GMT

As the plane banked over the airport it looked like we were landing on Mars. Brown—pretty much what I had anticipated. Welcome to Saudi Arabia. Connie was here with the Air Force twenty-five years ago but this is a new country for me, #173.On the ground at King Khalid International Airport we zipped through immigration, gathered our luggage and met our driver without a hitch.

Only recently has Saudi Arabia begun courting tourists and our visit was pretty much on a whim. I knew little about the country and had even fewer expectations. Actually, little of note had taken place on the Arabian Peninsula from Paleolithic times until the advent of Islam in 610 AD when Mecca became a major pilgrimage destination. The First Saudi State, founded by King Muhammed bin Saud in 1727, lasted less than 100 years and it wasn’t until 1932 that modern unified Kingdom was proclaimed. Saudi Arabia didn’t become globally significant until the discovery of oil in 1938 and it has become an economic force to be reckoned with.

As if the long driving time between sites wasn’t enough, one look at the traffic in Riyadh reenforced our decision that an organized trip is the only sane way to see Saudi Arabia. Tour leader, Yannis, is actually French but speaks excellent English and passable Arabic he says he learned from bus drivers. The fifteen of us have an entire tour bus so we have plenty of room to spread out. Other than Connie’s friend Lynn, who flew directly from a tour in the Philippines to join us, the only folks whose names I remember are the few I like and those I alredy find annoying.

Thamer, our local guide, walked us from the hotel to Al Masmak Fort where he told us some the history. Slightly more than half of the population are Saudis and nearly all wear traditional robes—“thobe” for men and “abaya” for women. They cut us men some slack—long trousers and shirts are OK—but Western women are required to wear the abaya and a head covering in certain areas, especially Mecca. So we made a stop at “Abayas 'R' Us” where Lynn picked a gray abaya and Connie’s is green.

With a population of seven million, Riyadh is a burgeoning architect’s dream canvas and we had plenty of time to admire the buildings as our bus inched through the traffic. While most of the Saudi homes are boxy structures there is none of the Bauhaus “form follows function” nonsense here, Riyadh’s skyline is pure whimsy. Taking the project from the architect’s concept, through blueprints, structural engineering and final construction boggles the mind. From the helix of Al Majdoul to the Al Faisalih Tower with its globe at the top to the undulating KAFD Metro station, a drive through Riyadh is a trip into the future.

All this is in contrast to the mud-brick buildings of Diriyah, Saudia Arabia’s first capital, and the UNESCO World Heritage Site of At-Turaif Historical District where we were forced to follow Thamer’s scripted history of Saudi Arabia which had little to do with my agenda. There was too much “Now we go this way” and way, way, way too much basic Islam. If he said “The Prophet Mohammed, Peace Be Upon Him” one more time I thought I would scream. Even the signage which I would have preferred to read if we hadn’t been force-marched along, began abbreviating “PBUH.”

We finished the long day with a trip to Skybridge at the top of of the 99-story Kingdom Tower. With its reflective glass and inverted parabolic arch it is probably the most iconic building in Riyadh. We missed the sunset but the nighttime views of of the city more than made up for it. It was a little disconcerting to see the elevator operator fingering his worry beads but at least he didn’t get lost. After viewing the traffic mess 303 meters below us, we were all glad that we voted to dismiss the bus and take the metro back to our hotel.

KHALĀṢ

graynomadsusa — Thu, 15 Jan 2026 18:59:00 GMT

(This is for those who think we’re “Living the Dream” every day.)

“Khalāş” is my go-to reply in Egypt. Enough! It works with touts, begging kids and even dogs. And it sums up this visit, too. Khalāş!

We needed an onward flight from Accra to get our Ghana visas and Cairo seemed like a good idea. We enjoyed our two previous visits to Egypt, especially the pharaonic sites along the Nile and the more remote oasis towns. The new Grand Egyptian Museum was finally open and we had a week to kill before our Saudi Arabia trip.

I wasn’t counting on still being sick. Nor did I realize that the 4-star hotel we booked “only 5 minutes from the Grand Egyptian Museum” wasn’t what was promised on-line. Nor that our hotel- supplied driver had no idea where it was. Twenty minutes to GEM was more like it, $25 by taxi Mohammed said. The taxi we hailed on the street the taxi cost £E200, about a buck and a half. People around the world tell us “We love Americans, but not your country.” The opposite applies here—we enjoy Egypt. Egyptians, on the other hand . . .

Our mood didn’t improve when we found out our on-line tickets for the Museum were only for expatriates, not general tourists and, sorry ‘bout that, the other tickets are sold out. We did arrange without haggling for Imam, our taxi guy, to drive us to Alexandria for a reasonable fee on Wednesday where we were booked for four nights.

Imam, as it happens, doesn’t have GPS in his vintage Chevy. Nor on his battered Nokia. Cell service in Egypt is terrible unless you have a local sim, so our contribution was spotty. We had an actual street address written in both English and Arabic but Alexandria, Egypt’s second-largest city, hasn’t yet gotten around to installing street signs. Imam was getting frustrated, his car was acting up and we were getting pissed. Khalāş!

In desperation we asked Imam to use his phone to call Mohammed, our host. After banging the Nokia on the steering wheel a few times to get it working, Mohammed directed him nearly there. Then the car stalled, fortunately right at the Egyptian Post Office, a landmark we could recognize. Mohammed found us, we paid Imam plus a 20% tip—of course he asked for more—and found our apartment.

No complaints. Thirteenth floor of an old building in a very busy barrio only a block from the corniche. The elevator is old and slow but so far, reliable. Likewise the washer/dryer but the view over the corniche to the east harbor is spectacular. We can see Fort Qaitbey standing on the site where the Lighthouse of Alexandria, one of the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World, stood until an earthquake in 1303 sent it tumbling. There are a couple of kiosks selling soft drinks and chips, our favorite fruit lady and you can follow your nose to the busy fish market.

I am getting better but don’t feel up to fighting the city to see the sights. We visited Alexandria 20 years ago and it doesn’t look like much has changed. We have been out walking along the corniche in the chilly wind, searching for food we can recognize and a working ATM—after the first 3 attempts failed we thought it was our card. Things look a little rosier now with clean clothes, Egyptian pounds in our wallet, Micky D’s Double Cheeseburgers in our bellies and our exit date approaching. And we found a Pizza Hut.

Khalāş!

MASHA ALLAH

graynomadsusa — Mon, 12 Jan 2026 18:56:00 GMT

The overnight Emirates 777 flight from Accra to Dubai was packed. I felt so terrible that I strapped into my middle seat, put in my earplugs and slept the entire way. With less than two hours for the connection to Cairo it was up to Allah whether our luggage arrived with us. Insha Allah. By the time we de-planed, boarded buses and turtled to the terminal even we had to hustle to the gate for the flight to Cairo.

The Emirates AB380 to Cairo holds around 500 passengers and owing to several Oriental tour groups, not a seat was vacant. Again I slept most of the way and awoke feeling weak but nearly human. We had gotten eVisas online and quickly did the immigration thing. On to baggage claim.

The scrum around the carousel was unbelievable. While Connie watched and watched for our luggage to come around, Doubting John preemptively headed to the the Emirates lost luggage department to begin the now familiar claim process. The woman scanned our baggage stickers and cheerfully said, yes, out luggage was on the flight. Masha Allah!