Hegra boasts more than 110 elaborate ancient graves.
May the Lord of the World curse upon anyone who disturbs this tomb or opens it,” reads the hex carved into the apex of the crypt.
When the curse was etched into these rock cliffs in the wilderness of the Arabian Desert 2000 years ago, its inhabitants had lived and died at one of the Middle East’s great crossroads. Where traders dealt in frankincense and gold, camels and ideologies. Where pilgrims paused gratefully beneath lush date palms after more than 40 days of toil toward the sacred site of Mecca.
The crypt is found at the edge AlUla oasis, in north-western Saudi Arabia, one of more than 110 elaborate graves that comprise Hegra, the country’s first UNESCO World Heritage Site.
“We used to play among the graves when we were kids, watching the foxes and camels and telling ghost stories to try to scare ourselves,” says Layla, a local AlUla woman who is my rawi, a storyteller-guide, as she leads me through the vast archaeological complex on the edge of the oasis.
Hegra’s stunningly preserved tombs are a big visitor drawcard since Saudi Arabia opened to foreign tourists.
Fast-forward 2000 years, and Hegra and AlUla are back in the spotlight as Saudi Arabia opens its borders to allow independent travellers to explore its beauty, and its stories.
“People said you had to get out before dark, or you’d see the ghosts from the tombs and hear the voices of people screaming,” she confides.
Despite the hot sun, a delicious chill runs up my spine, and not just for the ghost story alone, but for the sensation of simply standing here.
Before late 2019, foreign tourists were forbidden to enter the kingdom – only those with business visas or pilgrims to Mecca could visit this notoriously reserved country. So, after years of skirting its lengthy borders with my feet planted in Oman or Jordan, or from the Egyptian coastline looking across the Gulf of Aqaba as the sun set on its mountaintops, Saudi’s decision to tap into the lucrative international tourism market finally allows me to cross that line.
Visiting Hegra is, to me, like clipping in an integral piece of the jigsaw that is the Middle East – deeply satisfying and fabulously illuminating. Incredibly, Hegra is the long-lost sister city to Petra, in neighbouring Jordan. The Saudi-side Nabatean city was forgotten by the outside world after its heyday from 4th-century BC until the first century AD, when the wealthy trade-based civilisation fell beneath the cloak of the Roman Empire.
Qasr al-Farid or “the Lonely Castle”.
Its signature site is the romantically named Qasr al-Farid, “the Lonely Castle”. Standing solitary, away from the clusters of tombs that comprise Hegra, the towering, unfinished carving dominates the landscape and we few tourists who gather in its elongated shadow.
“It’s the jewel of the country, the icon of tourism industry,” says my Australian friend Zoe, who is one of many foreigners working on the AlUla tourism project. “It’s the Uluru of Saudi.”
The Nabateans lay their city over the paths of even older civilisations, the Dadanite and the Liyhanite kingdoms, whose own tombs, guarded by regal stone lions, remain carved into the desert cliffs. These tribes parked their caravans here to protect their incense route, and the canyon walls of Jabel Ikmah are covered in inscriptions in the Dadanitic alphabet, painstakingly chipped into posterity nearly 3000 years ago.
Layla leads us along a path lined with wild lavender and spiky acacia, and through her guidance, we discover ox, deer, ostriches and even harps, carved and in relief from the Dadan kingdom.
“Of all the sites, this is my favourite, because it’s quiet and peaceful. We call it the open library.”
Mirrored structure Maraya is the most striking addition to the oasis.
The desert likes to hold its secrets, and Hegra’s stories are still not yet uncovered: we spy several live archaeological sites still being excavated today as we jaunt between tombs on a faux-vintage, open-top teal Land Rover with our driver and guide, both clad in mirrored aviators and flowing robes. In this era of neo-tourism, I don’t have to cover my hair, and while ‘modest’ dress is politely requested, it is also very sensible, as we layer up against the juxtaposition of the desert’s early morning cool and, later, its powerful sun.
The site is dotted with little open-air cafes, where we sip Arabian coffee while lolling on floor cushions, and a stall allows visitors to try their own hand at rock carving – my misshapen bowl is a disgrace, too poor even to serve as an ashtray, and has the female staff giggling behind their niqabs.
While the history is old, there are plenty of new shoots in this desert. The wildest, most unexpected addition to the oasis is Maraya, the world’s largest mirrored building, set in the nearby Ashar Valley. Sensibly, its name in Arabic means ‘mirror’, and this evening, as the heat subsides from the sand, I walk to its doors through a guard of white Arabian horses – doubled by their reflection – their riders in traditional robes, ceremonial swords raised in the moonlight.
Maraya includes a 500-seat concert hall and a restaurant by top British chef Jason Atherton, Maraya Social.
The building includes a 500-seat concert hall, which has already hosted international stars including Andrea Bocelli and Alicia Keys, and tonight, we are treated to a performance by acclaimed Egyptian conductor and pianist Omar Khairat. The rousing performance is joyous – no stilted applause here. The row of Egyptian women in front of us dance in their seats, jewellery-clad arms thrown in the air. By the finale, they are singing along while Face-timing their friends back home, and the full house emerges flushed and happy from the performance.
Many of us in the crowd are going upstairs for a late dinner atop the vast mirrored building. Here, British chef Jason Atherton, formerly of the Kensington Street Social in Sydney, has an outpost, Maraya Social, serving European cuisine using local produce – with plenty of truffle action – beneath the stars.
Even later, I reach my accommodation, Habitas AlUla, under the velvety cloak of a very dark night. Stepping through the lantern-lit reception, a little electric buggy quietly zips between the 96 thatch villas to reach mine. The bed looks to a tent-like canopy outside, embroidered floor cushions and ottomans waiting for morning, where I can drink in the views as I drink my tea.
Habitas AlUla: glamping, Saudi-style.Credit: Kleinjan Groenewald
The next morning, breakfast is by the infinity pool, and the restaurant is alive with accents from London to Los Angeles. There is also a strong showing of cosmopolitan Saudi families – with this country also affected by years of lockdowns, Saudis have, like us, begun to explore their own backyard more thoroughly.
“People hear that Hollywood movies are being filmed here, and they see princesses, influencers and football stars in AlUla – it’s become the hot place to visit,” one local tells me.
Jabal AlFil, or Elephant Rock.
Sure, Hegra is a lure, but so too is the spectacular sunset lookout on the hilltop of Harrat Uwayrid, with its beanbags and adjoining open-air, lantern-lit Greek restaurant, Okto. And the canyons hiding low-slung five-star hotels, its wind-carved sandstone piles form elephants and rainbow waves. Giant art installations or wild zipliners appear on hilltops, a cluster of food trucks open in the early evening at the feet of Jabal AlFil (“Elephant Rock”), where diners sink into cushion-lined conversation pits carved into the desert floor.
Hidden in desert canyons, you’ll find luxury hoteliers Banyan Tree’s low-slung villas are inspired by Bedouin tents – if Bedouin tents ever had a private plunge outside – and I notch up a life-affirming moment spent watching the sun rise from its spa pool, wedged in a small canyon high up on the property’s ridge. The new 35-room The Chedi Hegra is set within the Hegra railway station, built by the Ottomans to link Istanbul and Mecca, and what will surely become the oasis’ signature stay, French architect Jean Nouvel’s ambitious rock-cut hotel, is still being painstakingly carved from the landscape. Dar Tantora is the first boutique hotel to open in the mudbrick Old Town and, in a clear case of bringing ice to Eskimos, or caravans to the caravan, Habitas hotel also has an RV park filled with silver Airstreams.
New luxury resort Banyan Tree has an outpost in the desert.
Across all projects, the design ethos is low-profile and sustainable, while extravagant and playful, and always, always beautiful.
“We are very proud of our land, and we are proud to show people our traditions,” Princess Noura Al-Faqir later tells me.
A member of the Saudi royal family, we have met at her citrus farm, Al-Helwah, whose name translates as “beautiful” or “sweet”. Surrounded by groves of olives and oranges and a pretty date garden, she offers a vivid, healthful citrus tea as we talk about how this wave of tourism has affected this traditionally very private society.
“Everything is now open in [in Saudi Arabia] but not so that it affects our religion,” she affirms through a translator, though she understands English perfectly. “We’re changing, but we’re not frightened of who we are.”
A sleepy Friday morning finds me wending between the dramatic rock pillars of Gharameel atop Shaheen, a truly enormous white camel. Led by a smiling young cameleer clad in his white robe and red-and-white chequered ghutrah, as the distinctive headscarf is known here, we lope toward the horizon before returning to camp as a platter of hot kabsa is placed in between us, and we dig into the golden mountain of spiced rice and lamb with our hands, Saudi style.
A more upmarket exploration of Saudi cuisine is found amid the rustic chic mudbrick walls and date palms at Tawlat Fayza, while dessert is date and cardamom cookies fresh from the oven of the new Wacafé, nibbled while wandering the main street of the Old Town. Lined with tiny shops that sell embroidered cloaks, handmade jewellery and heavy Arabian perfumes, it is packed with locals and visitors, all fuelled on excellent flat whites from Wacafé or brews from the pumping Dunkin’ Donuts outpost, which is carefully camouflaged in a mudbrick hole-in-the-wall.
Old Town: visitors can now explore the labyrinth of tightly packed streets.
While I’m window-shopping antique timber chests and a moringa face oil that promises eternal youth, the town square fills with a procession of camels and white horses, their riders swathed in gorgeously vivid robes and turbans. It’s one of the regular live performances in the Old Town, this time telling stories of Ibn Battuta, the great North African traveller and diarist who passed through in 1326. This being Saudi, there’s no skimping on the props: it’s like I’ve stepped into Aladdin’s town of Agrabah – it’s literally bigger than Ben Hur.
The epic movie comparisons don’t end here – my last morning is spent not in the oasis, but above it. Too early for the annual balloon festival, which takes place each winter, my ride this morning is a five-seater helicopter flown by the cool, calm Captain Nasr.
Up high, we spy a straight line drawn on the landscape. It’s the railway line, which once connected Damascus to Medina until it was subpoenaed by the Ottoman army in World War One, and subsequently destroyed during the Arab Revolt, aided by the dashing British officer TE Lawrence, aka Lawrence of Arabia.
A railway once connected Damascus to Medina.
From my eagle’s viewpoint, I witness the austerity of the pale orange desert bleached by gruelling sun and excoriated by hot winds. And I espy sanctuary, as the underground springs provide refuge for ancient explorers and howling ghosts, of sunburnt pilgrims and canny traders, and of travellers like me seeking to step off the beaten path – but actually stepping on a timeworn trail. And I see the preservation of a thousand and one tales, safe in AlUla’s keeping.
The details
Habitas AlUla’s tent-villas are hidden in a sandstone canyon in the Ashar Valley, 20 minutes from AlUla. The restaurant by the infinity pool seals the deal. Costs from SAR1111 ($460) a night, ourhabitas.com
Fly
Low-cost carriers Flynas and Flydubai fly from Dubai to AlUla International Airport, flynas.com, flydubai.com
Visas
Australians can apply online for a tourist e-visa, visitsaudi.com
More
The writer was a guest of AlUla, experiencealula.com