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Wandering North

Chronicling my travel adventures since 2007

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Posted inAsia Asian capital trip 2023 Japan

Konnichiwa, Tokyo!

Posted on 12 March 23
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Arrival in Tokyo, Japan

Of all the countries I had already been to, I hadn’t been to Japan. I was excited to visit Japan when I was about 12 (never happened; I just wanted to go) and over time my interest waned. I kept hearing about how great it was, but I remained lukewarm. Sure, I love Japanese horror movies and Hello Kitty, and I am fascinated by their weird porn culture, but none of it motivated me to buy a ticket. And then I was hopping around Asian capital cities and the time felt right. And Tokyo astonished me.

flag of Japan
map of Tokyo

The more I travel, the more difficult it is for me to be surprised by a place. Places start to remind me of other places. I get more savvy. Things get easier. But Tokyo surprised me on numerous levels. Sure, it has a lot on common with other big East Asian capitals, but it was also so distinct. The food, the social interactions, the culture – even basic things like using machines to order ramen or flushing some of the very complicated toilets – so much of it really took me out of my element and I loved it. (I will say right now: yes, the toilets are weird and complicated, and I think heated toilet seats are disgusting but some of the other features were pretty nice.)

I arrived in Tokyo from Kuala Lumpur on a flight that got me in just after midnight, so I was unable to take the train to my Shinjuku hostel. Not feeling too disappointed about that, as I was eager to get to my accommodations, I got into a taxi. It was weird right from the start. The taxi looked like an English black cab and the driver was wearing a black suit, white shirt, and black tie, like a casting room castoff from Reservoir Dogs. He wore a chauffeur’s cap and had short but shaggy grey hair that I wasn’t sure was not a wig. I couldn’t tell if the man was 30 or 70. He seemed like a young man playing the part of an old man in community theatre. He spoke a little English, which he used to tell me long winded stories about animals that turned out to be jokes. The whole thing felt weird.

Sleeping Capsule

We pulled up outside my hotel at about 1:30am on a busy, bright street.  The Shinjuku Kuyakusho-mae Capsule Hotel. Picking it wasn’t difficult. I knew I wanted to stay in Shinjuku, and I knew I wanted to stay in a capsule hotel. This place was cheap and met my criteria. I thought that staying there might be a penance in exchange for a neat experience, but it was great. I was on the women’s only floor and had a floor level capsule, which I found super cozy. It had a roof-mounted, old-fashioned CRT TV that played whatever was on Japanese TV, wifi, and power outlets. Unexpectedly, it also came with pyjamas, slippers, towels, and pretty much every toiletry you could think of was available in the shower/bathroom.

capsule bunks
my ‘room’
Shinjuku Kuyakusho-mae Capsule Hotel

The only downside, I guess, was the common area room had only vending machines, so you have to go out for coffee (unless you want coffee in a can, which I didn’t but drank anyway). In the common area, with so many men and women wandering around in pyjamas (identical, except that the men wore grey and the women pink), it felt like I had joined a cult. And I was ok with that.

I was so excited about the lively neon washed streets and my cool cult sleeping cubby that I didn’t want to sleep at all. But I did. For a few hours. And then it was time to finally see Tokyo.

But first, coffee

My first stop was the Meiji Jingu Shrine, but first coffee and the subway. I was staying in Shinjuku, which, as far as I could tell, was the epicentre of everything I wanted from Japan: tight vertical neon signs, ramen shops, tiny bars and restaurants, lots of young people in cool street style clothes, and cute things. 

3D cat
Shinjuku restaurant
Shinjuku at daytime

I was looking for a café – not something that Japan is known for – but I found an excellent, bright, and modern café where I had a perfect cup of coffee, followed by a French pastry of some sort. I’m not usually a big pastry eater but it was very early, I was starving, and most things were not yet open.  I have to say that it was possibly the best pastry I have ever had. I’m not a foodie. I like to eat but food is not an important part of why I travel; that said, sometimes the food in a place is so great or unusual that it becomes a part of the trip (like Myanmar and Georgia).  Tokyo was awesome for food. Everything I ate, no matter how cheap, was perfect. Being a vegetarian and being on a budget there made things a little more challenging, but I could always find something delicious to eat. The ramen. The strawberries. This pastry.

After I had my coffee and perfect pastry, I went to the subway station to go to the Meiji Jingu Shrine.

In a Station of the Metro

The Tokyo subway system can be a little bit daunting. There are numerous lines and as far as I could tell it was difficult or impossible to get a ticket that would be good for all of the subway lines all day. When entering the subway station, you’re confronted with banks of machines that sell you tickets, but different ones in different spots, and it wasn’t entirely clear to me whether each machine would sell you tickets for all the lines or not, but I never had any trouble buying a ticket and figuring out where to go. It just took a bit of time of staring at the map and plotting out routes. I know it’s not fashionable to have paper maps anymore, but having a paper map of the Tokyo subway system was super convenient for me. All in all, the subway was amazing. It wasn’t very expensive, it went almost everywhere in the city I wanted to go, and it was a joy to ride.

Tokyo Subway Map
Scenes in the Metro

Sometimes I felt like a big oaf, not knowing where to stand (some trains have different queues for different trains at the same time on the same platform) and being taller than everyone else, and being one of the only people not wearing a mask but no one gave me a look – well, except one time when I accidentally knocked a man over and his CANE fell out of his hand. Yeah, that wasn’t my best moment. I just repeated “I’m so sorry” over and over as I helped him up. Even then though no one really acknowledged me, except the man I toppled. Weirdly though he seemed to apologize to me.

That was one thing that stood out to me about Tokyo. I felt invisible No one looked me in the eye or spoke to me or acknowledged me in any way unless we were engaged in a commercial transaction or unless I specifically spoke to them, and in the latter case they didn’t seem too keen to talk to me.  It was bizarre.

Shrine Time

I arrived at the station near the Meiji Jingu shrine (Harajuku Station) and walked to the shrine.

Harajuku Station

I walked through Yoyogi Park with its tall trees. It was very quiet; it was hard to believe that it was right in the middle of the city. The shrines (dedicated to the Emperor Meiji and his wife and built in 1920) were lovely. Peaceful. There were places where people could write down what I assume were prayers or wishes and tie them to structures around trees. It was lovely. I’m not in any way a spiritual person, but I certainly can appreciate beautiful trees and serenity.

Yoyogi Park
Meiji Jingu shrine
Meiji Jingu prayers?

There was one astonishing tree near the middle of the temple complex. It was enormous and so perfectly round that it almost looked like a cartoon tree. It was one of the first of what I can only say are extraordinary trees that I saw in Tokyo. When I hear people talk about Tokyo, I never hear them talk about the trees, but I saw several trees there that were so beautiful that they look like they should have been in paintings. It really stood out to me.

a perfect tree

From there I walked over to the Harajuku neighborhood, famous for its youthful wacky fashions and cafes. Admittedly, I was there too early. I should have gone later in the day. A lot of the stores were closed or just opening when I got there. So the street was quiet and didn’t have a lot of what I imagine is the energy that it would have later in the day, but I still enjoyed walking around. It was interesting to see the odd cafes that they had, like an otter café, a micro pig café, cat cafes, dog cafes…it was random.

Takeshita Street
Sign for an otter cafe
Harajuku

And cafes for Sanrio characters, and stores selling cute costumes and wigs and so you can dress up like a living doll. It was interesting. What was also interesting was walking around that neighborhood off Takeshita Street where there were some cool cafes (without animals) and clothing stores. I stopped and had coffee and looked at some random art and window displays.

me in the vicinty of Harajuku

From Harajuku it is just a short walk to the Shibuya crossing; That famous intersection that gets flooded with pedestrians walking in every direction imaginable. The best way to get a view of it is to go to the roof of the building. but that wasn’t open when I was there, so I went upstairs to the Starbucks in a record store and from there I got a view of the intersection. I have to say it wasn’t as dramatic as I expected it to be, but it was a lot of people walking in all directions and it’s a quintessential Tokyo sight, so I had to see it.

Shibuya Crossing

Ah, Ramen

I made my way back to Shinjuku, and had a bowl of ramen en route. I’m not usually a ramen fan, but in Tokyo I am. I am ashamed to say that I needed help ordering from the machine the first time. (I don’t know how I was screwing it up; pushing the buttons in the wrong order or something.) It seems that in most ramen joints, you order from a machine before sitting down and then your ramen is wordlessly delivered to you. Excellent. No perky server bothering you to ask, “How are the first few bites tasting!” Just leave me in peace to slurp my soup.

Smoking Cigars in Shinjuku

I went back to my hotel my capsule to get freshened up. I had plans for the evening.

Shinjuku at dusk
bar in Tokyo

About 20 years ago I worked at a La Casa Del Habano (cigar store) in Vancouver and the manager of the store at the time was a fellow whose family was from Hong Kong. We didn’t stay in touch, and he had since move back to Hong Kong. But on the day that I arrived in Tokyo, he and his wife happened to be arriving in Tokyo from Hong Kong (discovered via Facebook). He messaged me to see if I wanted to get together. I did. This turned out to be one of the best parts about my trip to Tokyo, not only because I got to see my friend from so many years ago, but because he and his wife are very familiar with Tokyo and speak a bit of Japanese and they were able to introduce me to some things that I probably wouldn’t have been able to do on my own. Thing one: finding may be the best place to smoke cigars in Shinjuku.

We went to a bar on the 4th floor of a building in Shinjuku that looked completely unremarkable. If I didn’t know there was a bar on the 4th floor I would have never known to go upstairs, but once upstairs it was one of the most perfect bars I have ever been to. It was tiny (sat about 12 people), it was dark, it had an incredible selection of whiskeys and drinks, it was long and narrow like a train car, it played excellent jazz music. The bartender was dressed almost identically to my taxi driver the night before: black suit, white shirt, black tie. And of course, the best thing, you could smoke cigars inside. I met my friend and his wife up there and we sat and smoked cigars and caught up, reminiscing about old times and catching up on new ones. It was so much fun and felt so civilized to be able to smoke cigars inside.

me with friends old and new in Tokyo

We left the bar and went over to one of Tokyo’s yokocho (alleyways) that are lined with tiny restaurants. This one: Omoide Yokocho.

Omoide Yokocho

More commonly known in English as “piss alley” for reasons that I probably don’t have to explain.  It is a tiny little alley near Shinjuku station, lined with teeny tiny little eateries. The eateries are just counters (no tables) and the chefs cook up the food in front of you and serve it on tiny plates. I guess it’s like izakaya, but there seems to be a distinction between izakaya and a yokocho eatery that I don’t understand. Almost everyone sitting at those counters is smoking and drinking beer or tiny thimblefuls of what I assume is saki. It’s so charming and so picturesque that is exactly the sort of place that I would have wanted to go and eat but would have not really been able to eat on my own.

eateries in Omoide Yokocho

None of the signs are in English, of course, and I speak no Japanese. Even looking at the food that they are serving I couldn’t figure out what it was. Is that tofu or fish or egg? I had no idea. But fortunately, my friend did, so we sat down at a bar in a tiny little eatery next to a man gleefully and drunkenly polishing off a pack of cigarettes with his drinks and snacks. My friend ordered me a tiny little plate of objects that vaguely resembled food. He assured me they were all vegetarian. And they tasted great.

dinner

It was a wonderful introduction to an area that I would have not been able to fully enjoy on my own. It was a good reminder of the fact that as much as I think solo traveling is the absolute best, it is excellent to be able to connect with people in local areas and have a different experience.

close quarters on Omoide Yokocho
pics of posing for pics

We parted ways and I went back to my capsule, totally content after one day in Tokyo. Had this been my only day in Tokyo, I would’ve been pretty happy, but I had more time and there was more to see. The next day would bring more sights, more ramen, and a new weirder accommodation.

Godzilla Street, Shinjuku
Shinjuku at night

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Tags: Asia cigar food Hostel hotel Japan Shinjuku solo travel temple Tokyo transportation Travel travel blog
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Posted inAsia Mongolia-Kuwait-Bahrain trip 2025 South Korea

Hello Kitty to the Rescue: A Layover in Seoul

I don’t know why, but in the last few years my travel planning has become a little bit more chaotic. I used to book my trips many months in advance, and I would spend time refining the itineraries and learning phrases in the local language and getting organized. But more recently I find myself booking the trips with just a few weeks’ notice. I still make a good itinerary, but it all feels a little rushed. I don’t think I can conceive months in advance of actually being able to take time off work, but then something happens and I just need a holiday and then I book it without much planning. This was one of those trips.

I had decided that I needed to go somewhere, and I decided to go to Mongolia. But I didn’t just want to go to Mongolia, I wanted to try to visit a couple of other countries. And that’s what I tried to do on this trip. I decided to go to Mongolia and Kuwait and Bahrain. I’m aware that Mongolia is nowhere near Kuwait and Bahrain, but it made for an interesting itinerary. And it started with an overnight layover in Seoul South Korea.

This was my third or fourth time visiting Seoul, although each of those visits has been on some sort of long layover. I’ve never actually taken a trip just to see South Korea. I probably should, but this would be another layover visit.

I don’t love Seoul. I know that Seoul is very popular but, overall, I am not enamoured with it. It does make for a good layover though. I appreciate its excellent public transportation and its affordable accommodations, and that there’s lots going on day and night to fill your time.  As much as I don’t love it, I was happy to be back for my layover this time.

Arex: the fast train into the city. Of course it has a cute mascot.

I arrived at 4:00 PM and I would have to leave again at 9:00 in the morning, so I just had an evening. I booked myself into the Hostel Drip & Drop, which is conveniently located in Myeongdong and right by the Euljiro 1(il)-ga metro station. I took the AREX Express train (which is only slightly faster than the other train) into the city with my backpack and walked to the hostel and dropped it off.

Before I say anything else, I have to say how impressed I was with this hostel. I have fantasies of designing the perfect hostel because there are so many of them that just have design flaws, like having no lighting options between pitch black and blinding white or showers in shared bathrooms with no place to take off your clothes or hang them up outside of the soaking wet shower. This hostel was close to perfect.

It had an immaculate sleeping quarter. I opted for the girls’ dorm and it was one of those ones where every bed is a pod with a proper curtain, a shelf, lighting, and a comfy mattress inside. For the first time ever, I had a little bunk with a window in it. This hostel also had an adjoining room where there were lockers to put your backpack and your shoes, so you would take off your shoes and get your pyjamas, or do whatever you needed to do, and then you could either go into the room with the beds or into the shared bathroom. What this meant was there was no possibility of anybody in the sleeping room rummaging around in their bags, or getting dressed, or crinkling plastic bags because all of that happened in another room. I’m sorry if you’re not here to hear about effective hostile design, but I was very excited by this. And it was $56 Canadian per night. Not exactly dirt cheap, but pretty close.

Drip & Drop Hostel

I don’t know why it’s called Drip & Drop except that it has something to do with coffee and they do provide you with a coffee pour-over situation and they had a pour-over station in the common area. I mean, that’s pretty great. The downsides were no kitchen, and the common area was very sterile and didn’t really invite one to hang around, but that’s OK; I wasn’t there for long. I would 1000% stay there again. 

Once I was finished admiring my hostel, I set out into the city. I decided to wander along the Cheonggyecheon, which is sort of a man-made urban river that runs through the city lined with pedestrian and bike friendly spaces with benches and sculptures. It’s a really wonderful use of public space and provides some serenity into what a busy city is otherwise.

The Cheonggyecheon

I meandered around taking exploring the streets. There appeared to be some sort of festival happening geared towards children and there were a lot of inflatable things and children’s activities. I have no idea what was going on but it did make for some fun photos. It was blisteringly hot in Seoul, so, to cool off, I lingered by the fans set up outside next to some inflatable children’s water park set up for the event, until I realized that a single adult lingering near strange children is creepy.

Seoul sights

I wanted to visit a cigar lounge before it got too late (and I needed an escape from the weather) and so I went to the Resolver Cigar Lounge. It was walking distance from my hostel in a commercial building. The lounge was a little bit difficult to find and I nearly gave up and left but finally I found it and it was worth the effort as it was a beautiful lounge. Dimly lit with comfortable leather chairs, excellent cigar accessories, and a sophisticated atmosphere. I visited the humidor and picked out a Plasencia Alma Fuerte – a cigar made at the Plasencia factory I had previously visited in Nicaragua. They had a decent selection of Cubans and some non-Cubans but the prices were very high, and this was the cigar that I decided best fit my budget and palate. The only downside of the lounge, if there was one, was that it was very quiet. There were a couple of other groups of men smoking cigars, but it didn’t have a very social atmosphere. I’ve noticed this a lot with cigar lounges in East Asia which is that people don’t really seem that inclined to talk to each other. Everyone seems to kind of keep to themselves.

Resolver Cigar Lounge

By the time I left the lounge it was dark, but that did nothing to reduce the heat and humidity. Sweating profusely, I walked back to the area near my hostel to visit the Myeongdong Night Market.  I was delighted to have a night market to go to. At first, it was terrific to walk around the area with the market. The neon signs were twinkling, throngs of people were out gawking at the stalls and eating things on sticks and there was food and merchandise for sale throughout the streets. It was a fun atmosphere. Except now not only was it hot, but it was hot and I was walking past stalls frying up food and producing clouds of hot greasy air.

Night Market Fever

I quickly became very uncomfortable. I also desperately wanted to eat something but, as is always the problem with night markets in Asia in my experience, it’s very difficult to find anything vegetarian; plus, I had forgotten to get cash from the ATM. After a while I just needed some air conditioning and relief from the weather and that’s when I saw it, like a beacon calling to me. My savior. Hello Kitty.

I love Hello Kitty and I’ve been wanting to go to a themed cafe forever. And there it was: a two-story Hello Kitty café, open late and artificially ice cold.  While I was thankful for the air conditioning, I will say that the interior of the Hello Kitty cafe was so brightly lit that I felt like I was in some sort of alien spacecraft, but I was happy for it. I bought two food items that I’ve never had before and will certainly never have again which was a dragon fruit iced tea and a mango cake that was shaped like an actual mango inside a hard shell. It was delicious; or maybe I was just hot and famished. I sat by the window by myself, my eyes ringed in smudgy black eyeliner; I was looking goth-adjacent smelling of cigar smoke and thoroughly enjoying my Hello Kitty meal.

Hellooo, Kitty!

After that, I took one last spin around the market and then went back to my hostel for a shower and asleep. In a few short hours I would be up again and heading back to the airport to fly to my next destination: Ulaanbaatar.

Temple at sunrise. Headed back to the airport

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Read More about Hello Kitty to the Rescue: A Layover in Seoul
Posted on 28 July 25
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Posted inAsia Yemen Yemen Trip 2025

Yemen – Shibam and Departures

We awoke on this, our last full day, at our beautiful hotel in the valley. The previous day had been our excellent visit to the villages of Wadi Doan. The routine was well established at this point: I woke up, had my cigar, and watched the sunrise, followed by breakfast with the group before we set off on our next excursion.

Today, we would be heading to Shibam. As I’ve said in earlier posts, this was the thing that I most wanted to see. This was the picture that I had seen on the internet years ago, making me think, “Someday, I must see this place.” And that day was today.

The Old Walled City of Shibam is one of the highlights of a trip to South Yemen. The town was founded in the 3rd century, but the buildings that you see today were built in the 1500s. The structures are made entirely of mud brick and stand between 5 and 11 stories tall. They are narrow and built close together. Apparently, this particular design was meant to protect them from Bedouin attacks, but whatever the reason, it looks unusual and beautiful. Amazingly, the buildings remain strong and resilient. While they need regular, fresh applications of mud to the exterior, they have lasted all these centuries. The tallest ones are just over 30 metres high. It is the look of these closely clustered tall buildings that has given Shibam nicknames like “The Manhattan of the Desert” and “the World’s First Skyscraper City.”

Seeing it from a distance the night before was magical, but walking amongst the buildings was equally special. People actually live and work here. We saw pharmacies and honey vendors, little shops selling antiquities, and, of course, men sitting around smoking and drinking coffee. Sometimes, seeing things that you’ve been dreaming of can be a disappointment. This was not one of those times.

me in Shibam in a Madhalla

From Shibam, we drove back to Seiyoun, where we had started our journey; however, we hadn’t seen much of the city at the beginning. This time, we visited a museum in the market. I was delighted to explore the marketplace, finally try some Yemeni coffee, and browse through the little shops. I picked up some small bottles of oud as a souvenir. We sat around a café with our guide and driver, and I thought again about how much I wished I could just explore a little bit on my own. I could have spent all day sitting at a café, smoking and watching the people go about their daily activities.

market photos

We went to a specific spot near the market where they made jambiyas. A jambiya is a large, curved dagger that Yemeni men wear as part of their traditional ensemble, tucked into a thick, embroidered belt and worn on top of their futa. John and Doc had not gotten their jambiyas when they first bought their Yemeni clothing, but now they would. The craftsmen at the shop picked out the right jambiya for each of them and hammered holes into custom-fitted belts so that John and Doc could wear them with pride — right up until they had to go through airport security, I guess. 

I bided my time at one of the nearby gun shops. This is another moment where I must emphasize that my trip to Yemen felt completely safe, and that the people were extraordinarily nice and hospitable, but there is a tremendous amount of guns. This little shop, which was no bigger than a single parking stall, sold an astonishing assortment of handguns, machine guns, and rifles. They even let us handle and pose with them—without any ammunition, of course. I couldn’t resist posing for a few photos. I had mixed feelings about sharing these pictures online, but I think I’ve been clear that Yemen is not a scary or dangerous country. I just really like this picture of myself with the machine gun. I’m not someone who does online dating, but if I did, I think this would be a fun picture to use in my profile.

Next, we made a specific visit to the honey market, where rows and rows of small shops sold an incredible variety of locally produced honey. Yemenis are very proud of their honey, and we had been eating it every day, but I had no idea there was such a wide variety. We got to sample different types and were told about how different varieties of honey were good for various ailments. Each of the three of us picked up a tiny little bottle of the most expensive honey (sidr) to take home. It was thick, a dark amber colour, and very strong-tasting. I think it was about $5 USD.

honey merchants

But there was still more sightseeing to do. We drove to the nearby city of Tarim, walked the streets, and took in the Al-Mihdar Mosque and some Sufi shrines.

We returned to the Hawta Palace Hotel (the place where we had stayed on our first night in Yemen) for our final night. We were called to dinner and told there would be a special surprise. A group of men arrived and set up for us just before we ate. There were about 8 men dancing and another 10 men playing musical instruments and singing as they put on a performance. It was wonderful, although admittedly, I was trying to juggle a bit of remote work during the show. My companions, John and Doc, were called up to dance with the performers. John tried to call me up as well, but it was very quickly made apparent to me that this was a men-only situation. No problem. I sat outside with my cigar and just watched the show. It was a terrific end to an incredible trip.

The next day was the day of our departure. We got up, had a leisurely breakfast, and went into the city to walk around the market a bit more. We even went to a sort of Western-style coffee shop for iced mochas and lattes. These fancy coffees were not included in the trip budget, and I think this brought the total amount that I spent on the entire trip to about $30 USD—not including the tips that we gave to our guide and driver, of course. I had no idea how much spending money I would need and had brought a lot more with me; it is always better to be safe than sorry. If you are bringing money to Yemen (and you should) make sure that it is crisp, new US bills. They won’t accept anything with any imperfections.

At the airport, we said our goodbyes to our guide and driver and headed through security. There was little to no fanfare or hassle at immigration. Once we were through, we found a little seating area with a café, and we spent the last of our local money on snacks. I realized at this point that I was no longer really in the country and no longer had to wear my abaya. I had thought earlier in the trip that I might bring it home with me, but after six days of wearing it in the heat, it was crusted with sweat and dirt. I was completely sick of it, so I took it off and left it behind.

We boarded the plane and said goodbye to Yemen. It was an amazing trip. While I wouldn’t visit those same sites again (simply because I think we did them justice) I would be happy to go back to the country if the northern part ever reopens to tourism, as I would love to see the capital, Sana’a.

leaving Yemen

We shared a quick overnight layover in Cairo before John, Doc, and I went our separate ways. Next was a short layover in Cairo where we spent the night and I got interrogated at the airport.

A few more pictures from that final day in Yemen.

i accidentally snapped a photo of the most handsome man in Yemen

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Posted on 29 April 25
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Posted inAsia Yemen Yemen Trip 2025

Yemen – village life in Wadi Doan

On our third day in Yemen, we awoke at the hotel in Mukalla, and after a morning cigar and breakfast, we were back on the road. This would turn out to be both the best and most trying day of the trip so far. We drove to our next accommodation, the Haid Al-Jazil Hotel. It sits pretty much in the middle of nowhere—but what an incredible nowhere! Approaching the property, it simply appeared to be sitting isolated in the middle of a dry desert plain. The hotel itself consists of a series of landscape-appropriate bungalows alongside a main building housing the reception and dining area. However, stepping just past those bungalows revealed the most extraordinary view.

Haid Al-Jazil Hotel

view of Wadi Doan

Before us lay a massive desert valley with a thin ribbon of green slicing through the bottom, marking where water flows at certain times of the year. Rising up from the middle of this valley was a large, round plateau topped by a tiny town. A compact cluster of mud-brick buildings sat perched high atop this rock, isolated in the heart of a desolate landscape. It was one of the most remarkable sights I have ever seen, and our accommodations offered a front-row seat.

This was Wafi Doan (aka Wadi Dawan). A wadi is a desert valley, and Wadi Doan cuts through the larger Wadi Hadhramaut region. It is globally famous for its distinct architecture and premium honey production. Looking down from the hotel’s vantage point, I could see tiny people leading tiny creatures along the valley floor. I suppose they were actually regular-sized people leading regular-sized animals, but from that immense height, they looked like miniatures. It was simply amazing.

After taking in the view, we got back on the road to visit some of the local villages. We hiked down into the wadi, but after that point, I get a little confused about the exact order of the places we saw. Trying to piece it together later by looking at my photos and searching online didn’t make it any clearer. I know that on this day we descended into the valley and visited Ribat, Qarhat Ba Humaish, Qarn Majid, Al-Hajjarain, and Sif, but distinguishing between them in memory is difficult because they sit relatively close together.

We began with the descent, which was probably the only low point of the entire holiday. The plan was to hike down to the valley floor to visit that charming village on the rock. No problem, right? I was told it would take about 90 minutes going downhill. I love hiking, so I wasn’t initially concerned. Where it became an issue was the dress code; while the guys were exempted from wearing traditional clothing for the hike and could wear shorts, I was still required to wear my abaya.

As a result, I was hiking through an exposed desert landscape with absolutely no tree cover while wearing leggings, a t-shirt, socks, heavy boots, a thick fabric abaya, and a hijab. I don’t know exactly how hot it was, but I would estimate it was well over 40°C. I overheated very quickly, and the climate took a massive toll on me. Furthermore, while the hike wasn’t overly technical, the terrain was covered in loose rocks. I had to be incredibly cautious about my footing to avoid twisting an ankle. Perhaps other people wouldn’t be so worried, but I have a historical habit of falling off mountains, so I was trying to be careful.

On the way down, I just grew hotter and hotter. My abaya kept catching on thorny bushes, which was incredibly frustrating. The closer I got to the bottom, the more lightheaded I became, to the point where I actually collapsed a few times. Frankly, it felt humiliating. Despite that, the views were beautiful, and descending into the valley remained exciting. When we finally reached the bottom, I allowed myself to collapse onto the stones to drink some water before we walked into the village.

The village itself was incredibly charming: dirt roads lined with three-story mud-brick structures, and small market areas where locals hung out in the shade of palm trees. It felt like a true oasis, even though I didn’t see any actual water. We walked through the paths, stopping to admire the goats and the fruits and vegetables for sale. There was a little open-air, covered structure where a group of men had gathered to play dominoes. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to see us, and a few people even asked us to take their pictures. It was astonishing.

There are not many places left in the world where you can travel and feel like you are truly somewhere different—where there is no mobile phone service, no recognizable Western businesses, and people do not dress the way they do back home. As much as globalization is likely beneficial for the world overall, it does chip away at these unique pockets of cultural experience. But here, at the bottom of a valley within a valley in Yemen, it felt entirely distinct.

Our driver met us at the bottom, picked us up, and drove us through the various towns and villages I mentioned earlier, stopping so we could explore points of interest. We saw small palaces clinging inexplicably to sheer rock faces, brightly coloured buildings, beautifully carved wooden doorways, and winding paths through mud-brick neighborhoods where children peered down at us from windows. Everything we saw was beautiful.

One site of historical significance we visited was the ancestral Bin Laden family home. I don’t think it is a house Osama ever lived in, but it belonged to his father. We couldn’t go inside, but we looked at the exterior and took a few photos. While we were there, a young boy rode by on a motorbike and stopped to gawk at us. John asked him if he could try riding the bike, and the kid nodded. It is not clear if he actually understood the request, because when John took off down the road—going maybe 50 feet—the kid panicked and ran after him yelling, thinking he was being robbed! Thankfully, the misunderstanding was quickly resolved, and everyone had a good chuckle.

Bin Laden House

Driving between the villages, we occasionally spotted women minding livestock. While the task itself is common, their outfits were extraordinary. These women wore full black abayas, niqabs, hijabs, and what appeared to be gloves. I didn’t find the coverage unusual, since I also prefer to stay covered up in intense sun, but their hats were completely eye-catching. They wore comically tall, peaked, brimmed hats that looked exactly like witches’ hats, except they were straw-coloured. Some had the very peak and the band around the brim painted black or red. We passed them too quickly to get a clear photo, though we tried.

The hat is called a madhalla. They are woven from date palm leaves and can stand up to two feet tall. Apparently, the extreme height is designed to keep the wearer’s head cool by creating an insulating pocket of air. I have no idea how the women balance them so effortlessly while navigating that rugged terrain and tending to goats, but it looked incredibly stylish.

Walking through the villages, we also noticed a number of locals carrying firearms. We were already somewhat accustomed to this, as our tour group traveled with a guide, a driver, and an armed guard. Our driver carried a semi-automatic handgun, while our guard carried an older automatic rifle. Because a few days had passed and we felt more comfortable, we finally asked if we could take pictures with our guard and his weapon. I understand that people in Yemen do not want their country portrayed as a scary, gun-crazed society; it isn’t. That is America. Our guard carried his weapon strictly for our protection. I am not certain we actually needed protecting from anything, but if it provides a job to someone in an economy where employment is scarce, I am all for it.

Our last stop of the day was another village whose name escapes me. We drove to the end of a road and sat on a rocky outcropping looking out over the valley, and there before us was the skyline of Shibam. Shibam was the city I was most excited to visit on this trip. Because we were scheduled to tour it the next day, I will save my full description for the next entry. However, looking out over that cluster of tall, narrow, ancient mud buildings in the middle of the valley, washed in the warm glow of the setting sun, was a truly special experience.

Shibam

In the early evening, we returned to our beautiful hotel with its commanding view of the valley we had just explored. We had dinner, and I sat outside at leisure, enjoying my cigars and watching the landscape until the view completely dissolved into the blackness of the night.

At one point, while I was relaxing at the hotel in my regular Western clothes, four young girls approached me. One of them spoke a little bit of English. They were fully dressed in abayas, niqabs, and hijabs, so I couldn’t see their faces. They walked up to me, said hello, and giggled. They asked me where I was from, and giggled. They asked if I liked their country, and giggled some more. I asked them a few questions about themselves, and they kept giggling. Eventually, they asked to take a photo with me. I agreed, on the condition that I could also take one with them on my own phone. Finally, twittering with excitement, they all flipped up their niqabs to show me their faces, smiled warmly at me, dropped the veils back down, and ran away giggling.

making friends

It was a wonderful interaction. I suppose they don’t see many foreign women. I thought it was incredibly neat that they felt it was appropriate to show me their faces. Personally, I am all for people wearing whatever they choose to wear, but I struggle with the idea of anyone being forced to wear certain attire because a government, culture, or religion dictates it. Even that is complicated; if your religion prescribes a dress code, and you love your faith and genuinely want to follow it, then there is nothing oppressive about that choice. Still, I certainly have mixed feelings about societal systems that imply women must be covered up. I don’t know what the exact situation was for these girls, but I was simply happy to have met them.

This was by far the best day of the trip so far. While the first two days were great, today was truly amazing. By this point, all the money we spent and the bureaucratic hoops we had to jump through to get here felt completely worth it. The next day, we would finally visit the ultimate highlight of the trip: the ancient city of Shibam.

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Read More about Yemen – village life in Wadi Doan
Posted on 27 April 25
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About Wandering North

Welcome to Wandering North, where I have been blogging about my travels since 2007.

Dale Raven North

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