Part 29

It's Sunday late morning when I wake up and I'm still dreaming of the midnight picnic in the desert. My British colleague is already awake and packing. I need something to eat. After showering, I go search for the others. Some have already gone for breakfast, a few are still here packing. We go to the nearest shop and buy something for breakfast. Then we go to the suite of Bengalis and have a leisurely breakfast. Sadness is surrounding us. Then we say goodbye. My colleagues go later in the evening to Mecca for a few days. And the Brit is flying to Cambodia.
I'm going to Al Khubar to the east coast near Dammam to visit an old friend whom I have found after many years on LinkedIn. Originally, I wanted to travel by train. There is one train line in Saudi linking Riyadh with Dammam. Also, the trains are very luxurious and fast. They have a system like the airplanes. You have to check in your luggage, you may take only certain kilos, there are different classes to choose from and at the end of the journey you collect your luggage like in an airport. Hand luggage is allowed. In addition, it is very convenient to travel by train. Unfortunately for me, it is holiday time and it's all booked up. Since I do not want to fly, I decide to take the bus. There are VIP buses that pick you up at the hotel or wherever you are and deliver you at your final destination at the front door. In the bus, there are more or less half of the seats of a normal bus and a comfort is offered like in a First- or Business class of an airplane. Indeed, it is expensive, but I want to treat myself. Unfortunately, no one answers the phone. I try it ten times and give up. So the normal bus remains.
I go to the bus station by taxi. I flag down a taxi outside the hotel and ask how much it costs. The taxi driver looks at me and calls an overpriced price. I negotiate like crazy, but he does not go down. Then comes along another cab and I flag it down. Again the same game. I urge to go by the meter and the driver agrees. At the end of the half-hour ride it costs me about 8 Pounds Sterling. At the bus station, some Asians are waiting with luggage trolleys. For two riyals, about 40p my luggage is transported for me. The Asian man takes me to the ticket counter and because I'm in a hurry and don't want to miss the bus that leaves in a few minutes, he goes to the counter and tells the ticket seller something I do not understand. Then he turns around and asks for the money. I pay and get my ticket. Then we run through the hall to the bus. At the bus I'm one of the last ones to get on it. Here I give the Asian a good tip for his service and get on through the back door. Barely in, I see that it is full. That'll be a hell of a ride! On the ticket is no seat number. I look around for a free seat, but already I hear the driver call: "Doctor! Doctor!" He makes a gesture to indicate that I should move forward. He sends an Arab to the back and places me behind the driver's seat. Next to me is a Pakistani and directly opposite his wife and daughter.
The journey begins. We drive through the desert. Approximately 300 miles nothing but desert. It is gorgeous and stunning. I am as happy as a little kid and I'm probably the only one who feels like this on the whole bus.
I am talking for a while with the Pakistani and he provides me with cool drinks from the cooler of the bus that is the front of the seats of his wife and daughter. Eventually we both fall asleep. After three hours the driver drives off the motorway for a break. There is a service station in the middle of nowhere. There is a mosque, a tea shop, a small supermarket and a restaurant with a snack bar. I want to eat something, but there is only Kabsa. So I refrain from it. The passengers go to different directions. Some go to pray, others for tea and others to eat. I go for a little walk and enjoy the views. Then an African comes along and starts a conversation. He is from Eritrea, he says, studying in Riyadh and is now on the way to Dammam to visit some friends. He wants to know about me and asks if I know where Eritrea is. Yes, I know. When I tell him that I have a sponsor child in Ethiopia, he looks at me with big eyes. Readers of my novel "At Night ... .." (in English available towards the end of the year - so far available in German under the title 'Nachts.....'), know the story. The driver is calling us to gather and continue the journey.
Again three hours later we arrive in Dammam. There I go out of the station in search of my friend coming to pick me up. In front of the entrance are taxi drivers who call all sorts of names of cities: Riyadh! Mecca! Medina! Everything in the middle of nowhere. Are there really people who want to be driven 1000+ Miles in a taxi? Then I discover my friend. We go first to eat something at the heart of Dammam. We go to a steak house. All noble in there, a whole other world. A Western world, nothing like Ar'ar. Also, the prices are more western oriented. With about 10 - 13 Pounds per person, it is still cheaper than in Europe, but much more expensive than in Ar'ar. Then we drive to the compound where he lives. It's my first time in a compound. I have read and heard a lot about it, but now I must say I am disappointed. Nice to have a pool outside the front door, possibly a fitness centre, a snooker room, etc, but that looks too sterile. In addition, here live only Westerners. There is no contact with Arabs and the Arab world. Not like we were in Ar'ar, where we lived with the Arabs.
The next two days pass quietly. Since my friend has to work, I'm until the early afternoon alone. I go for a little walk in the area, but discover nothing interesting.
In the afternoon we go out to eat in a restaurant. Western chain. I do not want to reveal its name. Here I see a tremendous difference to Ar'ar. As it is prayer time, we are not asked to leave the premises. The door is locked, the curtains are drawn, and inside is business as usual. Oh! The same I experience again a day later. Apparently this is normal here.
Then we meet a friend of my friend. We pick him up at the Sheraton Hotel. While we wait in the parking lot we marvel at all the Ferraris, Maseratis, Porsches, Lamborghinis, all in white. When the friend is finally here we drive around a bit, go for coffee or tea and go to the Corniche and drive through a luxurious residential area. Gee what palaces are standing here! Since there is most of the oil in the eastern province, many rich and the super rich live here in this area. I feel a little strange. Until yesterday I was in an Arab town in the middle of the desert and now I'm surrounded by luxury. Crazy! And fascinating. I'm in awe and amazement and can't get out of it.

This blog is available on Amazon:
Theo of Arabia ebook

Theo of Arabia paperback