I noticed the pack of dogs out of the corner of my eye as I stepped over a small wall separating the road from the deserted beach. They were far away, with four dogs following a much larger pack leader. I hadn't seen the Red Sea since I was in Elat (Friday 29th March 1985) over ten years previously, and, although it seemed inhospitable, I decided to walk along the gravel parallel to the softly breaking waves.
After something like five minutes pottering along the by the sea without really focussing on anything in particular, my body suddenly became completely alert, and in one movement, I made a fist with my left hand and swung it around in a violent and completely instinctive movement. The leader of the pack, a large black mongrel, was in mid-air, flying towards the back of my neck with its slavering jaws open ready to snap shut on the top of my spinal column. My fist, which had picked up considerable impetus as it moved in an arc, made contact with the black dog's left ear with a 'thwack'! The dog, its trajectory interrupted, flew off to my left and landed in a scrabbling heap on the sand. The other four dogs were in a semicircle ready to join in the attack if had been successful, but now they were unsure how to proceed. I quickly located and picked up some large stones from around me and prepared to throw them. My adrenaline was firing through my system, and I'm pretty sure that I would have hit whatever I aimed at (see 'darts' and 'early years'). The pack leader had also noticed my next move and decided to move off along the beach at a nonchalant canter, the other dogs turned tail and followed after their leader. I was in a town called Hudaydah on the Red Sea coast of the Yemen Arab Republic, and my interest in Red seaside walks was over. I decided to head back to town and human company straight away. I arrived back in town without any more excitement thankfully!
It was the Eid Al Fitr holiday in April 1990, and I had a week's holiday. I was working at the Omani oil company, Petroleum Development Oman (PDO) as an English teacher, and decided to explore a country which had a rich history, but of which very little seemed to be known by the general public, certainly where I had lived. I had heard in bar room conversations that South Yemen was the only Marxist Islamic state which had existed in the Middle East, and had also heard stories of a secret war which took place in Southern Oman and South Yemen between 1972 and 1975. So off I went to investigate this fascinating country as it was in the last decade of the 20th Century and, in fact, just one month before the countries of the People's Democratic Republic of Yemen joined with the Yemen Arab Republic to become one country (later to be divided again by a vicious war). The first stage of the journey was a flight from Muscat to Dubai, where my good friend from Kuwait days, Nick, picked me up from my hotel and took me out for a drink at Biggles Pub (a place I would return to many times in the future), and then, the following day, a taxi to Sharjah, where my flight to Yemen would depart. I remember how in those days, the taxi would leave the Emirate of Dubai, drive through desert for 20 minutes before arriving at Sharjah airport. When I arrived back to live and work in both Dubai and Sharjah 25 years later, most of the desert between the two Emirates had disappeared and they had become close to fusing as one giant city, physically if not administratively. It was already dark when I arrived in Yemen.
In my background reading, I had found out about a plant which apparently had some kind of psychedelic effect if chewed, called Khat (or Qat), so after I had taken a taxi from the airport in Sanaa, capital of the then Yemen Arab Republic to my hotel in the old town, I went out to try to buy some to see what it was like. The first thing that struck me was that all the men were carrying knives, the mostly ceremonial Khanjar in Oman, in their belts. At the time I felt that this might actually be a deterrent to violence, as a simple fight between two men would be much more likely to result in severe injury or death, than one between unarmed people. I bought a quite big plastic bag of khat and wen I got back to my hotel room I started cramming it into my mouth. I continued doing this for about three quarters of an hour, and after feeling no effects whatsoever, decided to give up!
The next morning I set off to explore the city. Sana'a is the seventh highest capital city in the world at a height of 2,250m and the old city is a UNESCO world heritage site. There were imposing gates (two photos) to the old city, but the city walls viewed from the outside seemed very dilapidated; apparently they dated from before the birth of Christ, and little seemed to have been done in the way of renovation. The buildings near the ancient walls however had a distinctive architectural style which was completely new to me, and I was surprised to see an ancient version of high-rise flats! Some of the building had been designed in a way I had never seen before and it was impossible to resist taking photos of them.
Back at the hotel, when I mentioned to the receptionist that I wanted to visit Al Hudaydah and Taiz, I was told that I would need a government pass for the trip, so the next morning, I followed his directions in search of the required pass. It was reasonably easy to get, and I was told that on the bus journey between Sana'a and Al Hudaydah I would need to get at least three stamps on a form he gave me. "Why is that?", I asked. He told me that I would pass through areas controlled by various tribal groups, and if I disappeared, the form would help the police find out where I was! I was travelling in the middle of a religious festive holiday, so the Yemenis on the bus all seemed friendly and happy. As usual, I was travelling alone and spoke very limited Arabic, so unfortunately I wasn't able to communicate more with the friendly people.
I only spent one night in Al Hudaydah. I wasn't sure how safe the hotel was, so I'd asked to leave my money belt with passport and traveller's cheques in the hotel safe. The next day, after the events at the beach mentioned earlier, I checked out and got a taxi to the bus station in order to buy my bus ticket to Taiz. I bought the ticket and was having a coffee while waiting the half an hour before departure when I suddenly froze and a tingle went down my spine: I'd forgotten to collect my money belt from hotel reception! The bus station was uphill from the hotel on the same road, and I hurtled down it, running at full speed! I entered hotel reception breathlessly, and asked a surprised receptionist for my things. They were returned, and he called me another taxi to get me back to the bus station in time to board! So far, that has been the only time I have ever lost contact with my passport and money while travelling in that way, and I hope it never happens again!
I only spent the afternoon in Taiz before catching a bus back to Sana'a again, but I seemed like a wonderful city. Like Sana'a it had cool mountain air and beautiful architecture, especially the mosques. I hiked out of the city and up a hill to get a better view of the town, before it was time to eat something and complete the last leg of my Yemen trip. I returned to the same hotel in Sana'a old town and had one more morning to explore Sana'a and take a few more photos of this wonderful city before my flight back to Dubai, and then onwards to Muscat.
But what to do about the plastic bag now still nearly full of khat? Rather than risk questions by airport security, I decided to leave it in my hotel room as a gift for whoever came to clean my room. :-)
