Day 324. 77km (70973kms 6yrs)
In the morning I returned the key to the village man who photographed me and was very eager that I leave promptly. It’s his place of worship though and I am grateful to have been allowed to stay there. Despite turning over a new leaf to be grateful for the traffic cops, this morning’s escort was rather rude and impatient even telling a shop to turn their wifi off because he wasn’t willing to wait! Consequently I may have taken a little longer over breakfast than was completely necessary.. On the way out of town he drove right up my arse, his brakes squeaking as he almost went into the back of me every time I slowed for a speed bump. I repeatedly asked him to back off which he countered by turning his headlights on. Well played traffic cop!
My passport has not been checked for a few days now, instead my photo is taken presumably as proof I have been safely delivered to my next destination. Even without ID checks I can hear from general chatter that everyone knows I am Australian (occasionally misheard by some as Argentinan)
The desert here is interspersed with extinct low volcanoes rising from the otherwise flat earth. Turning towards the Al Waba crater at last the wind was at my back enabling me to glide the final few kilometres to the vast, salt encrusted hole in the ground. A couple of 4x4 vans indicated that I wouldn’t be camping alone and the visitor centre would provide protection from the unceasing wind. During the afternoon I was invited to a very windy picnic with some particularly spicy and enjoyable Arabic coffee. I hadn’t put my tent up or got changed as there’s always a possibility of an invitation, and true to Arab form towards sunset I was invited by a man to stay with his family back at his village 10kms away. It was a pity not to camp at the crater but an invitation to a home trumps most things I reckon, plus I was a little concerned about the increasing gale.
The family home took almost an entire block with 2 or 3 huge houses within the compound walls. My male host led me to the women of the house and immediately departed. At first I was led to a Bedouin-type tent where I hoped I might sleep, but instead we drank coffee together here before moving into the ENORMOUS main house belonging to the grandmother. Together we sat on the floor where all evening a parade of snacks and drinks were laid out by the house maids and passing visitors. All the while there was no music nor TV, but instead - I believe - the words of the Quran sung by a male voice.
Come bedtime I was led to a very fancy reception room and left with a tablet playing this same Quran chanting which I think I was expected to sleep listening to. Before this though I was handed a phone for a lengthy chat with an English speaking friend who set about trying to get me to convert to Islam by repeating the line that is the first pilar of Islam. Both times I told him - truthfully - that this is a decision that should be more considered than impulsively on a phone call. It’s a delicate dance remaining honest but also doing my very best to not cause offence in such situations.
If you enjoy my vlogs, blogs, and photogs please consider joining me on Patreon 😃
[ Ссылка ]
#saudiarabia #travel #cycling
