Kuwait was a bit of a hassle to get to via Kuala Lumpur and Kochi especially without an Indian passport but that's a whole other story. Finally two hours in immigration, another hour on buses and I'm in Kuwait city. By the time I reached my hotel, I felt like I’d already completed an endurance event. But then at the hotel, I was granted early check-in and a suite upgrade because apparently I am a Best Western Gold Member. News to me. I’ve never felt more accidentally elite. The hotel was in Salmiya, right by the Marina, surrounded by endless Indian and Filipino restaurants catering to the workforce. My first official Kuwaiti meal? Chicken skin chicharrón. Not exactly a cultural deep dive, but crispy is crispy. I caught the sunset along the waterfront while booking my ferry tickets, then stocked up on snacks and did the mental conversion that 1 Kuwaiti dinar equals about £2.50. Budget anxiety activated. Day one was done. I was asleep before I could spend any more money by accident.
The next morning I took the ferry from Marina Crescent out to Failaka Island. Once part of the ancient Dilmun civilisation, later a sleepy fishing and farming community, and then in 1990 Saddam Hussein decided to invade. Today it’s a strange open-air time capsule of abandoned homes, bullet-ridden buildings, rusting military vehicles, and daily life left mid-sentence. Poignant. Haunting. Completely irresistible to me. I stepped off the ferry onto a very wobbly pier and was immediately greeted by what looked like a beach resort with heritage style facades. Basically fake. Not the apocalyptic ghost town vibe I came for. A bus tour offered a 45-minute whistle stop at three photo points. Absolutely not. So I walked. In hindsight choosing to wear a pink dress and slippers was perhaps not my finest logistical decision. I had assumed bus tour would morph into beach day. Instead, four hours later, I had wandered along the coastline, down disappearing desert roads, through abandoned towns frozen in the 90s. Bullet-ridden homes. Rusting cars. Half-rotted boats and jet skis. Then I found what I was looking for, a razor-fenced military vehicle graveyard baking under the sun. Tanks. Armoured vehicles. Silence. And there I was. Pink dress. Dusty feet. Climbing tanks like it was a totally normal Tuesday. Desert winds whistling. Metal creaking beneath me. Failaka is a mash-up of eras. Ancient Dilmun ruins. Gulf War scars. Random tourist facades pretending everything’s fine. And actual beautiful beaches thrown in for balance. Spooky, fascinating, and yes, completely Instagrammable. I finished the afternoon arsing about on the beach until my ferry departed, contemplating history and my footwear choices.
Back in Kuwait City, I started at Souk Al Mubarakiya. Suspiciously neat. Fruit and vegetables stacked like they were auditioning for a John Lewis catalogue. I was starving and expected chaotic kebab stalls. Instead? Polite sit-down restaurants. Where was the smoke? The shouting? The skewers? Salvation came in the form of my beloved Lulu Hypermarket. I grabbed lunch and ate it by the harbour, staring at what might be the greyest ocean I’ve ever seen. Being near the port meant endless “No Photos” signs which I ignored.
I attempted to see Seif Palace, but men with guns materialised instantly to inform me in no uncertain terms, no entry and no photos. I smiled sweetly and retreated. I enjoy history, but I also enjoy not being arrested. From there I walked to the Grand Mosque of Kuwait, then along the waterfront to admire the skyline, the iconic Kuwait Towers, the big banking headquarters, the glass and steel ambition.
Back towards Salmiya I went, stopping for my mandatory cat therapy session. The strays of Kuwait City have varying fortunes. Some are fed regularly. Some hustle hard for scraps. All of them require cuddles. I skipped Green Island. I skipped the sculpture park. I chose cats.And honestly? No regrets.Kuwait surprised me. It’s polished and wealthy, strict and controlled, expensive and efficient.
But scratch the surfaceor wander far enough in a pink dress and you’ll find layers of history, resilience, and tanks you probably shouldn’t be climbing.
