Arabia Felix - Yemen

There's only one flight a week to Yemen from Italy and on top of that from Rome, so I have to wake up at around dawn to go to Linate and take a convenient flight that will take me to the capital. My meeting with Anna is at Fiumicino around noon. As soon as I wake up my only concern is to check the state of the snow. Luckily not much seems to have fallen yet, so I head to Linate rather serenely. The legendary Alitalia MD80 is waiting for me, but before taking off it is subjected to de-icing treatment. A bored-looking little man starts spraying with little conviction this kind of foamy detergent on the wings and, giving a fleeting glance at the aircraft, gives the pilot clearance for takeoff. The flight is short, just the time to race another plane that is landing on the runway parallel to ours, beating us by half a second, and we touch down by the sea.

The meeting with Anna, who has already arrived, is at Terminal C, I'm at A. There's no sign indicating where to go. I also have to look for a transfer desk because I need to get my boarding pass for the final destination and I can't find it. I wander around and nothing. I call Anna and nothing. I discover that she too is desperate because she's looking for a reference point. In the end, almost at the last minute, I ask a lady who kindly points out where to find the desk to check in with Yemenia. It's a little table hidden behind a column, behind the newsstand.....Ah well!!! I ask to be assigned a window seat, all happy because I'll be flying over Africa, but obviously there's no window, coincidentally only the 4 seats are left, in the middle, on the wing. How annoying. The flight is calm, Anna and I make friends with Riccardo and Nicola, two guides from Kel 12 and Antichi Splendori.

We are interrupted very soon, because the whole plane is in an uproar; we have finally reached the African coast and everyone leans over to see the Egyptian desert. Riccardo gives me his window, after all he's done this route so many times that he knows it by heart. I look at a bit of the Nile, a bit of the Red Sea trying to establish with Riccardo which cataract we are crossing (we decide it's the 4th) and then I go back to my sad seat. Landing is near, the flight is only 5 hours. It's dark, it's about 19:00 and we land without problems in Sana'a, the capital of Yemen at an altitude of 2,250 meters above sea level.

The journey to the hotel is strange, the city around me feels a lot like dejà vu, it reminds me a bit of the outskirts of Trapani, a bit of Amman in Jordan...is it possible that I'm having all these visions?? Have I been here in a past life? We shut ourselves in our room with the barred windows, a bit sad, and wait for tomorrow to come.

Today's day with our guide Sheriff, known as the sheriff, one very sure of himself who seems to be a bit of a character and who even took part in "Turisti per caso", includes an excursion in the Marib area, the kidnapping area par excellence. They don't distinguish by nationality, even though the favorite prey seem to be English, Americans and diplomats. We are precisely in the Rub al khali, better known as the fourth void, practically the desert part of this country. This area is on the border with Saudi Arabia, the only area of Yemen rich in oil, where there are some rebels who are stirred up by the Saudis to cross over to the other side and ensure that this area rich in wells is annexed to the already very rich Arabia. In short, the kidnappings are only a political and monetary matter, nobody cares about damaging tourism or the tourist himself.

You just have to travel obligatorily with a police escort and you shouldn't run any risks. To face a day like this you need an adequate breakfast and so I throw myself into the typical Yemeni breakfast based on spicy bean soup and bread and honey. Not bad, even if a bit heavy on the stomach given the time. The day promises to be very intense. We set off with 4 jeeps numbered in series. Anna and I, together with another Anna and her husband Stefano (the other 2 young ones of the bunch) get into the flagship jeep. Our driver is called Mohamed and is very nice. During these moments spent in the car, more than looking at the landscape, we are busy looking at the road. The Yemenis drive like raging madmen.

Basically you can decide whether to die crashing into a boulder on the mountain roads, whether to blow yourself up against the numerous trucks carrying diesel, or to fly off the cliff between one hairpin bend and another. As if that weren't enough, in this area especially, they are frequently interrupted by military checkpoints. Mohamed, as the Admiral, has the task of handing a sheet of paper with our names and the route to each checkpoint. Sheriff explains to us that this is an anti-kidnapping control method. Basically every tourist must be reported and if at the next checkpoint someone is missing from the roll call, the alarm is triggered. The checks are a nightmare and Mohamed's photocopies never seem to end.

Speaking of history and architecture, because this after all is the purpose of the trip, we visit the Temple of the sun and the moon, which for the Arabs have their genders reversed and are actually "the sun" and "the moon". They vaguely remind me of the viaducts of the Autostrada dei fiori since they are 7 squared columns of reinforced concrete. Meh.....Is that all?? Millennia of history enclosed in 7 blocks of concrete? Anna and I are very disappointed by the first contact with what many have defined as the most beautiful country in the world and we try to console ourselves with the first tasting of qat. This is the local "drug", after all every country has its own, legal locally and illegal if exported. Since it's actually a natural plant, and not a drug, I decide to try it, after all 4 lettuce leaves never hurt anyone, right?.

Well, it's disgusting, it's like eating tree leaves and I don't think it produces any particular effects. In fact it seems that to get the desired effects you need to chew tons of it for hours.... In the afternoon we head towards the most famous dam in the world. It's from the 8th century BC and irrigated what today is the 4th void. It seems to have been a masterpiece of engineering and intelligence due to its structure and position, but honestly I didn't even understand what the 2 remaining sluices were.....to me it looked like a useless pile of ruins. We have no choice but to head towards the old city of Marib, destroyed by bombings, always escorted by men with machine guns. Anna and I detach from the guide and decide to climb to the top of one of these ruined buildings of the abandoned and bombed city.

About 4 floors on foot await us in a dilapidated building at risk of collapse, with rubble and dirt inside, but it's worth it because the view is magnificent. After handing over the 30th papyrus at the checkpoint, we return to the hotel covered in dust

Today's day is entirely dedicated to visiting the capital of Yemen, the famous Sana'a. Meanwhile the kidnapping bulletin informs us that we've reached 5. Right where we were yesterday a family of German diplomats was kidnapped, but it seems it's just a symbolic gesture, in fact the 5 are released immediately without problems. Sana'a is a UNESCO world heritage site and was in the running to become one of the wonders of the world in 2001. I don't know how the voting ended, what's certain is that it truly is such. It's worth taking Yemenia just to come here. At this point I decide that whatever the rest of Yemen is like, the capital is worth the trip. You feel the same emotion you feel in a city like Venice or like Pompeii, you feel the history, you are surrounded by the most extraordinary art. And as if that weren't enough the shopping is fantastic and very cheap.

In the old city, surrounded by walls and an old wadi, there's a souk worthy of the Moroccan ones, indeed by far better. There's a melting pot of little streets where you walk packed like sardines among all the locals who go and work at the market. You have to be careful not to get lost and not to be dragged along by the crazed crowd. There's the artisans' district where iron and wood are worked, where frames are made and sabres are sharpened without which Yemeni men would never leave the house, there's the spice area with myrrh, incense, coffee, saffron, cardamom, and colorful baskets of undefined spices, the fabric area where they sell very colorful fabrics a bit too flashy and in bad taste, (apparently the Yemeni women under the black crow-like shroud, by reaction, use the most impossible colors).

Then there's the food district, the vegetable one, and obviously an entire district where qat is sold, obviously it's the most chaotic one. It's hard not to stop at every stall and make purchases of lanterns, frames, colorful boxes, spices, and it's hard for 12 people to stay tightly together. In the end Anna gets lost...luckily the Yemenis are extremely honest, reliable and warm people, in fact she is rescued by a 12-year-old boy named Salid who even goes into a call center to spread the word that an Italian woman is lost and ask the merchants where Sheriff's group is...In less than 10 minutes he brings her back safe and sound. Legendary Salid, he really deserves a prize. We stop to drink green tea with mint on the walls, observing the exhausting movement of the city from above and waiting for dusk. This city is magical.

Today we head towards the south of the country, almost on the extreme tip of the Red Sea. Several interesting km await us up to Hodeidah, and when you go by car the fun is always guaranteed. Unfortunately Mohamed has to leave us, the drivers are changed and we are bounced onto jeep number 3 with a guy with an unpronounceable name. This guy shows up with an enormous dagger stuck in his belt, at the front, in the Yemeni manner. He won't even take it off to drive, because after all driving with a 30 cm blade stuck in your balls is more macho, right?? We go to visit a village called Al Hajjarah. It's beautiful, perched on the hill, with the typical houses of Yemen and the cultivated terraces just below. Exploring this village forgotten by civilization, however, unfortunately we are set upon by the inhabitants who chase us to sell us necklaces, belts and Barbies dressed as Muslims.

It's frustrating. How did these people who live isolated from the world become worse than the Egyptians who have been suffering for years from tourism on a considerable scale??? Whose fault is it? Of the tourist who gives away candies and pens to the children, to the point that by now they associate the tourist with these objects and chant bon bon and kalam (the pens) in a singsong, without perhaps even knowing what they are? By doing good you have in reality done greater harm. The truth is that you should never do charity in this way. Dignity is never asking; if you don't ask and you're in need, you will still be given: this is the conclusion we try to reach, right or wrong as it may be. Finally since we've been in Yemen we go to eat in a typical restaurant. Yemeni cuisine, contrary to what I expected, is truly superb.

There's always a base of rice and mutton and chicken, but the strong dishes are the salta (bean soup with a concoction of green Greek hay on top), the bread similar to pita, but 10 times bigger, flaky and thin, baked vegetables quite tasty, a kind of baking dish with potatoes, eggs and tomatoes and, dulcis in fundo, a dessert with the exotic name "the girl on the plate". It's a dough like brioche pastry baked with honey and poppy seeds on top. Guys I think I had 6 pieces, exceptional!!! At the end of lunch the women are involved in a dirty dancing (the courtship dance) with some Yemeni boys. What an effort dancing with all those lentils and slices of cake on your back!!! And what a fear since you dance with sabres in hand, but it's truly a unique moment. I really had fun. We set off again, but 2 of our jeeps, it's not clear how, decide to rear-end each other.

Big scare, but luckily no one was hurt, just a big nasty damage to the car up in smoke. If it had happened 100 meters further on the 2 cars could have ended up without brakes in the ravine. Sheriff tries to throw water on the brake pads to try to recover the unrecoverable, but nobody helps him because nobody knows anything about engines. The km remaining are too many and in the middle of the desert of the mountains nobody can help you. Luckily the car starts again without apparent problems, apart from the dent. With a bit of difficulty and an avoided 2nd accident, we arrive in Hodeidah. The landscape is extraordinary and varied. We went from 2,500 meters, to the plateaus, from oases with palms, to gorges like that of Todra in Morocco, from the pre-Saharan landscape, to the savanna.

We are practically in Africa, on the coast, just opposite Eritrea and it really feels like you've changed continent. First of all the climate changes; we go from the dry heat with nighttime temperature swings of Sana'a, to the humid and unbearable heat of Hodeidah. The appearance of the inhabitants changes too. Here it seems there was an invasion of Abyssinians and Ethiopians, in fact the features of the inhabitants are black, no longer Arabic-looking and the women, although veiled, are dressed with flowery and very colorful veils. You can smell the scent of the sea which is a few meters from us. The seagulls fly high in the sky. We stay in a rather unsettling hotel that hasn't seen the light of day for years and a cleaning lady for centuries, but at least it's spacious. There's no hot water, but in the end with the heat it's no big deal..

We have to escape from there and so we decide to go with Sheriff and Carlo to the seashore to smoke Narghilé. It's a fairy tale, the Red Sea is in front of us, the sky is full of stars, we sip mint tea smoking a strawberry-flavored narghilé. A one-sided discussion begins about the Koran, women's rights, progress, stonings, about the Arabs and the fundamentalists. Very serious discussions, but seen from 2 completely opposite and irreconcilable points of view.

We are in Hodeidah on the Red Sea and, being in a seaside location, we go to the most famous fish market in the country. It's a spectacle. There are the strangest fish laid out on the ground everywhere: sharks, hammerhead sharks, groupers, snappers, prawns, etc. The haggling is exhausting, the fishermen are shouting everywhere, the fishing boats keep arriving overflowing, the children fill the baskets to unload the fish. Here we really are in Africa, the boats are brightly coloured, like the local people. Everyone looks at us amused. It's enchanting. After the fish market, with an incredible muggy heat and a sun that doesn't forgive, we reach Zabid, the place where Pasolini apparently shot the film "A Thousand and One Nights".

According to studies this is also the hottest place on earth, but it's forbidden to complain, because it's "only" winter (I don't dare imagine what summer is like) and according to my mum's daily texts, in Milan you're having a hard time at -5° with snow, right?? So, it's not fair to rub it in…. The heat is not the only characteristic of this little town, it seems that algebra was born down here. Zabid is a Unesco World Heritage Site, a shame it's tremendously decadent, perhaps restored who knows, so it leaves me a bit perplexed, even though I admit it has a certain je ne sais quoi….a unique charm of its own kind. I like it. In this village we visit the market chased by dozens of children who hold our hands. In the end we discover that they act as pimps by holding your hand and stroking you to get you to buy them a ball and give them the usual kalam.

We abandon the colours and scents of Africa to head back up towards Taizz. It's 31 December, New Year's Eve, who knows what you're all doing in Italy…..I can barely perceive the New Year's atmosphere. Here we are so far away in everything that it seems like any other day. I don't even know what day of the week it is, but deep down that's what I want…. Taizz is a huge city. Anna and I play the do-it-yourself-no-Alpitour tourists, because by now we've understood that this, despite what's reported, is the most tranquil and peaceful country on earth and the fact that you're a woman alone in a Muslim country isn't that important, because you're treated with respect, or at most ignored. There is great respect for tourists, especially if Italian, and this is because the old doctor of the Imam was Italian and Italians are taking part in archaeological digs and various works.

Anna and I start wandering around the old city on our own, buying fabrics, tablecloths, perfumes and baskets without stopping, haggling to the point of exhaustion. Not satisfied with shopping for knick-knacks, we decide to throw ourselves into culinary shopping too. Despite all the rules of the good tourist travelling in "particular" countries, which require not eating ice, raw vegetables, eggs, fresh food bought on the street from stalls, we start buying the most banal coffee, fire-red saffron and some seeds (and so far so good), then, not content, we throw ourselves on a whole fresh little cheese, the kind sold on the ground and sitting among the dust and flies to be clear.

At first I'm a bit reluctant because it seems to me that hygiene is lacking, but since fresh cheese is perishable and impossible to transport, we just have to eat it along the way with our hands already dirty with dust, and who knows what else. I'm super happy, the cheese is wonderful, I feel perfectly integrated into the trip, I don't feel like a passive tourist, the kind who just passes through without leaving a trace, I feel like an active and curious tourist. In the evening, thinking they're doing us a favour, the hotel organises a big dinner for us with a cake to celebrate the end of the year, not knowing that if people have chosen to spend New Year's Eve in Yemen, it means they're not all that interested in this festivity. No sooner said than done, it's almost 11 pm. We decide to take another stroll in the souk, where the shops are still open, to see in midnight.

In a little alley of the old market we come across some children playing football with a tennis ball and we let ourselves be drawn into the game. The Italy-Yemen challenge begins, adults versus children. The challenge is hard and gruelling, the children extremely skilful and agile and, incredible but true, they win. The children are called back by their parents and we continue our stroll. It's only 11.40 pm, we're exhausted, yet by now it's become a matter of principle, we have to see in midnight!!! We go up to the hotel roof, order some non-alcoholic beers (the alcoholic ones can't be drunk), the closest thing to sparkling wine we can find, and decide to go out onto the terrace to wait for the arrival of the new year. Everyone has a watch that says a different time…..in short, midnight arrives a bit at random…..

In the morning we go to a market for locals in Ibb. It's perhaps the most beautiful I've visited, because it's not at all touristy. Besides food, here they also sell livestock, cows, goats and camels. We almost get pelted with stones by some little girls because we're photographing them. Indeed it would be forbidden to take photos of veiled women, but they're so beautiful that it's impossible to resist. Having reluctantly left the market, along the way, between one hairpin bend and another, we learn that some Italians have been kidnapped. The last stop of the day is Jiblah, where the mosque of Queen Arwa is located. It's dark and we head back towards Sana'a. The landscape is lunar and evocative. The new moon, which stands out because of the clear, very clean sky without light pollution, reminds me of a grin, and Venus serves as a mole next to it.

I point out to the guys that the moon is "crooked". This sparks a very heated discussion about the hemispheres, about how and why it is crooked.

It's the last day, so to speak, and we have to make the next day last since the plane for Rome will leave the following day at 3 in the morning. We spend the whole morning exploring the Palace in the rock at Wadi Dahar, the one that was once the summer residence of the Imam. This palace is simply extraordinary and majestic. Imagine a mountain with a palace on top that was built following the shape of the rock, making use of its natural cavities, wells and cisterns included. The climb to reach the top is tiring, but it's truly worth it. After finally seeing something "rich", we return to extreme poverty and go to visit another series of typical villages. The first is Thula, and it's built on a water basin where the women are busy doing the washing and it seems like a kind of "Venice of the poor".

As soon as you enter the walls you're assailed by hordes of kids who have learned Italian from previous tourists (and then they say Yemen is a destination for few) who, under the pretext of showing you the village, try to drag you into their shops trying to sell you junk. Having left the town we head towards Shibam.

and this is Kawkaban, a village that enjoys a spectacular view, since it's on top of a mountain and from which you can set off for a trekking excursion inside its gorges with arches, where it's better not to look at the ground because of the filth there is (I fear it's used as a dump by the locals), but above all famous for The Flying Dutchman, which is not the famous DJ Nick the NightFly, but rather an unfortunate tourist who wanted to lean out too far to look at the view, despite having been warned of the danger, and who took a nice flight of a few hundred metres crashing onto the rocks below…. Having finished the trekking in the dump, we return to Sana'a, aware that the trip has truly come to an end, but fully satisfied with the extraordinary places visited.

To see in midnight Anna and I decide to enjoy the market of Sana'a on our own, aware that if we were to get lost in the alleys of the souk, we could still find Salid, or another child who would come towards us to help us get out. I'm truly satisfied not to have been a sheep and to have followed a safe guide, because by now I wouldn't have seen the real Sana'a. Anna and I in fact, wandering at random and letting the children help us, have explored every remote and absolutely non-touristy corner of this enormous and marvellous city with buildings with alabaster windows and very colourful stained-glass windows rich in decorations.

We bought honey, biscuits and, to conclude this fantastic experience, we also threw ourselves into a splendid mixed fruit smoothie (again despite the hygiene rules of the experienced and cautious traveller) at a little stall we came across along the road, among the amazed and friendly looks of the locals. After the last dinner (excellent) based on very fresh grouper in a Yemeni restaurant for locals, we sadly head towards the terrifying Sana'a airport. It's a life experience, believe me…..First of all no one checks your tickets and passports, and luckily no one at check-in checks my suitcase which in the meantime has reached 27.9 kg. On the other hand you have to be careful, because the guy at check-in sticks the destination tags on the suitcases at random because he doesn't know English and doesn't understand where we're heading.

Luckily I notice and save my suitcase at the last moment (he was sending it to Venice), I take the strip with the stickers on my own initiative and stick the Fiumicino/Linate tag on by myself. After check-in there's the metal detector check. If you're a woman and you set it off, you end up behind a curtain where 2 pseudo-policewomen, veiled Muslims, pat you down.

Finally we are boarded (an hour early) on the legendary Airbus 320-200 that will take us home. I have the window seat this time, which I'll use as a headrest since it's the middle of the night and you can't see anything outside. Three seconds later (even though to me they felt like hours) and I'm in the world of dreams, when the idyll is interrupted by a little voice at the microphone shouting "good morning", (the only sentence in English spoken) and all the plane's lights come on. Damn, I only slept 3 hours and there are 2 left until arrival, couldn't they grant us an extra half hour??? And besides it's still dark, ugh.... After breakfast consisting of omelette and beans for me, rice and meat for Anna, and rice and chicken for the neighbours, we land in Rome.

(you should know that another characteristic of Yemenia is the on-board service: basically depending on where you're sitting you get a different thing, but you have no right to choose. Even the drinks are different, in the sense that if you're on the left they give you drinks in cans, on the right in bottles). This was a truly incredible trip. What is certain is that I will never forget the extraordinary, friendly, funny people I met, confirming the fact that in the end, if you want, you can live under the same roof while having completely different ideas and habits, respecting each other. I will never forget this people and above all the smile of its children. Now I finally understand why Yemen is called Arabia Felix.