Flowers of the Desert

Continues from Into the Forest…

No Nightingale did ever chant 

  More welcome notes to weary bands  

Of travellers in some shady haunt,   

 Among Arabian sands:  (The Solitary Reaper: William Wordsworth)

The experiences in Abhah were definitely uprooting our concept of the desert country. On the third day at Abha, we decided to head to Al Soudha, for the longest cable car travel in Abha. On the way, we missed the route and took a wrong deviation. The wrong trudge was only to present us with some unique views.

A wave of golden grass spread near the mistaken path. The golden waves were outlined by striped mud mounds at the far end. On the other side of the golden stretch, wild flowers in stunning hues marked their edge. Houses in traditional architect stood proudly in their leisurely slumber. 

It was scene out from pictures, classic movies and beautiful dreams. There needed not much time for us to stop our vehicles and to get out exploring this wild land. 

The scene was mesmerizing and the moderate climate added to its charm. It was there that I saw a well for the first time in Saudi Arabia. Protected by a strong wall, the well protected the precious water of the desert at its un-gauged depth.

The clear blue sky made the heavenly sight hypnotic for the spectator. 

Silver clouds floated in an entrancing wave as the golden waves danced beneath. The nameless flowers flushed and amassed the bright golden colours at the bounteous green at the edges.

The whole scene would definitely confuse a desert traveler. It was as if the great painter had put the whole leftover paint after painting his beautiful landscapes onto this land. However this unique landscape is beyond depiction and beyond description. 

I listen'd, motionless and still;

And, as I mounted up the hill, 

 The music in my heart I bore, 

 Long after it was heard no more. (The Solitary Reaper: William Wordsworth)

Into the Forest…

 Continues from Al Habbalah Village- The heaven on Desert

“I never expected something like this in Saudi Arabia. This place is indeed a heaven. It’s time people have to change their attitude on Saudi Arabia as a barren land. I’ve started to fall in love with this country.” These were words of Mr. Tom…. Who had been on a deputation from Holland!

Tom’s words were our thoughts too. As we stopped on the narrow road at the edge of a deep valley and cactus bushes, our minds were echoed with excitement and wonder.

While we were descending through the cable cars, I’d spotted some people walking amidst the green foliage near the Habbalah village. Very soon, as we were sitting in our reverie, Sreejith spotted some men across the ruined house after the small forest. We decided to take walk towards that direction.

We would have definitely missed the essence of our trip if we’d missed that walk. It was a walk in a real desert forest. It was wilderness and beauty everywhere. Birds chirped, insects creaked and many living things were enjoying their privilege out there.

Into the forest

Shreya was thrilled as we were amazed to see such greenery amidst the desert. The path was barren and looked fresh even after the umpteen footsteps. It was a smooth walk till we reached the narrow steps near the Habbalah house. The wide valley lay at one side and a stretch of cactus bushes adorned its stretch. The path was mixed with slippery stones. 

I was not sure to proceed with Shreya and I knew fear was gripping me. It was then Tom and his friends came back from the Habbalah house.  His excitement and warmth pushed me to go further. After five minutes, breathless and with my sprained feet, we reached at the Habbalah house.

I sat at the thatched mud mountains of the home overlooking the valley. Our friends were ready to follow us for this unique tread. Sreejith entered the house to admire the old interiors. But my journey had finished. This walk and the view stretched before were enough for me.

It was post noon time and the mighty mountains slowly embrowned themselves. Though the day stood visible with its blue screen in the sky, darkness started to creep over the mountains. The night was drawing near closing its shade curtains around.

Sunset from Habbalah House

The shaded noon with its mere complexion added the face of twilight to the mountains. The birds flew across the bright sky while, silence was spreading amidst the foliage. It was time for us to return too. As we ascended in the cable car and drove across the mighty mountains back to our hotel, I just thought of the many miracles of the creator. A forest amidst a desert -never heard of such an oxymoron and couldn’t believe even after the experience!

Al Habbalah Village- The heaven on Desert

Continues from Al Habbalah- The Pulse of a City

The steep cable car ride took us to the hanging village of Habbalah within minutes. Even those who were dreading the ride enjoyed it. The slow movement of the cars and the scenery around the deep valleys made us forget everything outside. We were at Habbalah village in Abha, a dreamy land with deep valleys, misty mountains, green foliage and much tramped paths.

As we got out from the car, we stood at the spot for some more time to admire the climb and descend of the cars. In the backdrop of the huge mountains and the in the wide distance between the stations, the cable cars looked like play toys.

It was cold, sunny, steep, adventurous and overall an enchanting village. The children started to get really ecstatic and run to the open and  steps all around. Shreya escaped very soon from our hands and following her I reached the top of the ruins before others.

The steps were adorned with  bougainvillea on one side and wild bushes. The shrubs looked so similar to shrubs from our home country. It was truly a nostalgic sight. The barren desert mountains glazed in the afternoon sunlight across the ruins.

The ruined house also consisted a mountain cafeteria whose kitchen, store room and restroom were on the top of the house. The terrace in front of that was unkept and opens to the wide chasm below the mountains. As I stood at the edge of the terrace, my heart raced both with fear and excitement. 

Can you spot the cable car?

However, the real shock to my heart came very soon. I relaxed while Shreya got out from the terrace and ran to play with her friends. However, while climbing the steps, she lost the balance and was falling back to the narrow gap of mountains leading to the above mentioned chasm. I am sure that there was a divine hand that steadied her at that moment without which we I would have lost myself too.

 I was sitting shocked and numb for some time before Sreejith found out something to rejuvenate us.

Continues in Into the Forest…

Al Habbalah- The Pulse of a City

Continues from The Mountain Market! 

It took us around 20 minutes of drive from the traditional market of Abha to the Habbalah village. The winding mountain roads presented sceneries that had been unique to the country. Every picturesque spot were fresh and a pleasure for our eyes. Even the dirty looking monkeys that so often ventured the fast driven roads entertained us. 

We were in fact driving through the part of the country that held a different pulse of the culture. All along the way we could see houses in traditional architecture. Though we wanted to stop and photograph them, the sun and the time constraints detained us.

The native people of the place were much friendlier and helpful that their counterparts in the capital city. Though they were reckless in driving, some of them took all pains to take us to our destination. We reached Al-Habalah by 11a.m. 

Al Habbalah

The mountains were mitigated with the fairy mist. The bronze valleys held the golden sun rays under their cold blankets. The beauty was heavenly and serene.  The calm moments were pelted by the mountain monkeys who threatened the visitors into their own land.

The children were definitely not in a mood to enjoy this calm bliss of their parents. We very soon found a café table overlooking the valley. The Arabian burgers tasted good as never before at that mesmerizing location. 

After the short time at the mountain tops, we were ready to travel down to Al Habbalah Village, once inhabited village of the the Qahtan tribe. This village was inhabited until 1970s. The people were relocated to the King Faisal Village in the 1970s and the place remained untouched for many years.

Al Habbalah

The main transportation method to Al Habbalah Village in the early days was ladders and ropes now replaced by the cable car. From above the village seemed to hang from a cliff above a wide valley. Someone explained to us that the village was also called ‘the hanging village’ owing to its appearance.

We were ready for the steep descend. I felt goose bumps as I saw the cable car approaching us.

Continues in Al Habbalah Village- The heaven on Desert

The Mountain Market!

 Continues from The Green Mountain

When we’d wake up in the next morning we were really drowsy enough to have any excitement about a visit to the local traditional market in Abhah. Yet, in concern for other travel companions, we dragged out of the bed. After a refreshing continental breakfast, we headed to the local market.

The cool morning in Abhah reminded me of the Garden city of India during the year 2000. Huge green leafy trees walled the medians. Whenever we stopped at a signal the sound of the twittering birds could almost overpower the buzz of vehicles.  Wherever the median lacked the trees, they were beautifully gardened with date palm trees, green lawns or flower bushes.

“After all, did we come to see this?” That was my first reaction as we entered the Abhah market. Most of the shops remained close owing to the morning slumbers. The men in the group went into a traditional honey shop where they sell, honey combs, old leather water bags and native pots.

I was definitely fascinated by the leather water bags. I had so far seen them only in the childhood picture comics of Arabian Nights. My childish mind wanted to own one of the bags but my reasonable mind stopped me even from expressing that wish.

The Honey combs

White honey combs were soaked well like delicious halwas in the golden honey. The vendor offered us some combs to taste. It was much sweeter than my palette can savour. As the men bargained with the vendor, the children darted into the then empty market paths and we followed them. 

Many shops were stacked with home accessories for a day today life. There were also spices, colourful pots, mats, souvenirs and traditional accessories on sale. We got into a shop of a Bangladeshi vendor. As we rifled through many of the traditional souvenirs, we were interested to see that many of them resemble our native accessories.

Abha Market

We had a small chat with the vendor. He informed that the market is comparatively less crowded on the day being a working day of the week. In contrast to our assumption, he was not the owner of the shop and most of the shops in that market are owned by women of the place. This market was a symbol for woman power in the Arab world. 

The sun was getting hot and it was soon time for us to continue to our next destination. As we got out of the market, I thought, “each native market in a country hold pulse of the people dwelling there.  The vendors may watch many people from diverse cultures walking through their own paths. But in the mornings of silent openings and nights of calm closings, they all have a unique language and feeling.”

Continues in Al Habbalah Village-The heaven on Desert