Road Trip: Al-Hasa

By: Bint Khalid

In memory of Al-Hasa, missed you.

Note. The travelogue below is strictly a personal and a completely subjective view point of Al-Hasa.

Note 2. Beware reading-haters, the length is not for the faint hearted.

I love road trips, and Al-Hasa is a city that we usually pass, in passing. We have probably come by this place ten times and not once taken a decent street tour. To be fair, we do always get lost trying to find the exit heading back to Salwa, so we kind of, indirectly, cruise the town (mostly straining to check signs and ask for directions), but we almost, just about, distractedly, get a sketchy idea of what the place is like. 

The usual stereotypes about Al-Hasa are that:

One. The people are gruff.

Two. They have a great market.

Now, after mentioning the city of Al-Hasa in “Forks in the Road”, I became intrigued: how come this city is always vulnerable to stereotypes? And how come we never actually see the freakin’ place?

So we had to go.

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Day 1

It’s hard not to judge Al-Hasa at a glance. If I have to sum up the city in two words they would be “rundown dump”. I have to mentally check myself so that I don’t verbally voice this opinion and make it official.

First of all, every window on every building is barred. Yes, every single window, door, gap, and crack. There is absolutely no exaggeration on this point. It feels like one huge prison community. It does not help that everything is closed most of the time, so, many shops have their doors barred and padlocked. (I learned later that everything opens at night, which is when I was cluelessly (made up word) asleep). But during the day, when ‘normal’ people are ready for business, it seems Al-Hasa just isn’t. I’m not sure how people manage to shop here, since Al-Hasa is famed for its market; I find this system unnatural for my biological clock.

Secondly, all the buildings (ok not all, but ALOT) are crumbling, if not falling apart, and most of them are in dire need of serious renovation, if not a decent paint job. What is worse, in my opinion (‘cause I can take crumbling and falling apart, look at the pyramids), what is worse is that the whole city is one big junk yard. I am not joking when I say garbage is practically everywhere, plastic bottles and plastic bags and dirty wrappers and just disgusting crap everywhere!!!! My eyes cannot handle this; it’s just too much. And the fact that I am wearing sandals the whole time does not help (note to self: next time change to durable boots upon entering Al-Hasa), let’s just say my feet are not pretty.

It’s a shame really. The town is old… thousands of years old. Forget excavating lost archeological sites, forget attempting to limit crawling urbanization on natural wonders, you would think someone would care to put a little investment in cleaning the place at least. And what is even most annoying, is that the famous Al-Qaysaria market was pulled down and rebuilt into a new ‘old’ looking souq, what the?! What kind of monstrous bullying is this?? So let me get this straight… you just forgot about everything else I just mentioned? Forgot the ten inches of dirt covering everything, forgot all the filth, forgot the state of decaying buildings and all those messed up roads, you just chose to conveniently forget about all that…. But you go ‘renovate’ this poor defenseless one hundred year old souq?! I am outraged!! Who do we call?? Who is to be punished and tortured and thrown into a scorpion filled well???!!!

I need a break.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ignore my previous outburst. I’m a little bit in shock. Let’s talk about something worthwhile.

I will tell you about the first thing I am excited to see. It’s obvious. You know what it is. I told you about it before. Obviously, it is The Prison of Slaves (sejn el-‘abeed)*. The legendary prison where countless outlaws, bandits, protestors, and condemned-to-be-executed were thrown. I am rubbing my hands evilly and scrunching my eyes, mwahahahaha! I can’t wait! I can see myself walking in, pretend to be a prisoner! Touch the blood stained walls! Stand on the edge of that dry, skeleton filled well! Imagine the horrors!!!!

After looking, and looking, and looking, and then asking, and looking some more, I found out that the prison was demolished in 1956. Yep. That was a major downer for me, I practically came to Al-Hasa just to see this place… and poof, it just isn’t here. I am over fifty years late. Sorry guys.

But, I get to see the Fort of Ibrahim instead. Apparently the prison was right next to it and there was a secret tunnel connecting the two. Ooooh!

 

Here are the postcards of day one:

 

 

 

Day 2

Up early, I’m loving the view out of the Intercontinental hotel, endless palm trees and a rising sun. Today we are heading to the Uqair port and seeing the Zakhnonia island. I’m thinking of writing something that mention’s the port and the island, so I really want to see these places. They are not far from Al-Hofoof (official name for the city of Al-Hasa).

I need to clarify something, Al-Hasa is actually the name of the whole district, the city is called Al-Hofoof, but people in the region simplify by calling Al-Hofoof Al-Hasa. I’m not sure how this is simplifying when it can be confusing. Anyway, here’s a history lesson for you:

Historically the city was made up of two parts: Al-Hofoof and Al-Mbaraz, each of these two communities had its own wall circling around it. Within Al-Hofoof is the area known as Al-Koot, the ancient political center of Eastern Arabia. Al-Koot itself was a gated community, of a size estimated to be one kilometer in diameter. Outside, surrounding the two areas (Al-Hofoof and Al-Mbaraz) were around forty villages and surrounding those villages were many palm tree plantations, thanks to the wealth of natural fresh water holes.

Anyway, the way to Al-Uqair is interesting, the desert is amazing and there are so many camels on the way. We keep stopping every time because I find that I must feed them and take lots of photos! It becomes a road hazard when more camels keep popping out of the desert for the food.

I am now officially in love with camels! I always thought elephants were the best, and I adore elephants, but now I think camels are my thing! I even hinted that “I want one!” a few times, not sure how that was a ‘hint’ if not a declaration, but hopefully it is taken seriously, because “I really want one!”.

Uqair is beautiful, and then we go south to the Zakhnonia security post by the beach. My only comment here is that this place has a serious problem, where is the municipality? The whole beach is trashed with litter washed up from the sea. There isn’t a patch of sand that is not filled with garbage. It makes me sad to see this really, I don’t think we can stay that long.

On the way back to Al-Hasa, we are exhausted and hungry. Now the culinary scene in the area is not the finest to be honest. If I have to rate the food, then I would give it a 4.5 or a 5 out of an overall score of 10. Even the hotel’s food is below average for me. But to be fair, I am told that I wasn’t going to the right places. Apparently I should not be looking for Italian, where I should be looking for oversized stuffed greasy samosas in hidden ally kitchens. How was I supposed to know? Though I did try freshly baked bread covered in olive oil and thyme, which I thought was the best thing I ate so far. (Note to self: next time try the samosa).

After this long day I was as dead as a rock at the bottom of the sea.

 

Here are some postcards for day two:

 

Day 3

Going through some touristic brochures about places to see, I pick these three: Jawatha mosque (the second mosque built after the Nabawi mosque in Madina – the Prophet’s mosque), Garah mountain, and an old pottery. They are all around the same area.

Forgoing breakfast and opting for hot bread, straight out of a tanoor oven of a tiny bakery along the way, we find ourselves on a long road lined with palm tree plantations on both sides. Reaching Garah mountain we can  see that it is a prime example of nature’s artistic talents. Beautiful. Exquisite. Mesmerizing. You can’t take your eyes off it. So, it’s disappointing to see these ‘smartly located’ new buildings being erected right on top of it, literally. Why? I have no idea.

After going in a huge circle, all around the mountain, the pottery is next on our way. I like this creative stuff that you make with your hands. I love handmade ‘stuff’. I am obsessed with them. The little shop is perfect, the old man making these things has his khoos baskets hanging outside, and inside are shelves of his pottery work and the larger khoos baskets. The whole place feels like an ancient cave of wonders. The floor is a dirt floor, the shelves are old and rickety, and there are so many things hanging around. Lamps, pottery jars in all shapes and sizes, baskets, little souvenirs and trinkets… I love it. I am all alone living this surreal atmosphere… until the old man starts screaming foul language, cursing at someone riding a bike near his ‘porch’. That killed the buzz.

The next thing is The Hunt for Jawatha Mosque. I say this because we have spent almost two hours looking for it, when it should have been within a ten minute vicinity. It is preposterous! We ask for directions, like ten times, and every single time we get some absurd description that involves a lot of hand waving, and something that goes like this: “just keep going here, then go there, then turn this way, and then to this side, keep going, and you will find it”. After the fourth time, I cannot help but think: “are we being punk’d?”. It’s becoming somewhat bizarre. Finally someone else voices my opinion and puts it simply by saying: “emhag wasf”.

Later, a friend of mine commented about this ‘behavior’ (before I even told her about our escapade with our failed attempts at wheedling out precise directions). Her comment was that: “they do this intentionally”. What? Really? Why? What kind of twisted joke is this? No wonder we never find the exit leaving this maze of a town, the city itself must be playing some sick game!

Then again, to be fair, most of the people would tell us to “be welcome” and have coffee with them. A lovely heartwarming  hospitality trait I am thrilled to report (almost stops you from going crazy over bad directions).

At last, finding the elusive mosque (I was starting to think it does not want to be found), it’s closed. Its location is inside a gated area and hidden behind dense trees so we could not even see it behind the fence. Strange since it is listed as a must see place during this Eid break.

On our way to the hotel, I notice two other interesting things in Al-Hasa.

First I will tell you about the thing that I enjoyed, which is that every building has an iron gate with its own characteristic designs and colors; one of the few lively things here (even if many of them are rusted to pieces). I especially like the blue ones.

Second I will tell you about the thing that is unexpectedly curious to see, which is that all the store signs have funny lookin’ names. The Spring Butcher. The Pearl Necklace Pharmacy. The Son-of-the-Sheikha Center. The Hungry Rabbit Restaurant. The Immortal River Plantation. The Socks Only Selling Place. Oh, and a KFC type of eatery, disturbingly named Katkoot, which means Baby Chick.

Talk about inventive. I guess the Hasawis are not entirely dry and humorless (as the stereotype goes), we already found out (the hard way) that they like to prank.

Back at the hotel, we pack our things and get ready for our journey back to Qatar. On the way, I insist that we stop somewhere in the desert to enjoy ‘a walk’. It is so easy to forget what is really important if you’re immersed in modern life’s fussiness. The desert may seem boring to many, when it’s just a heap of dull ugly sand. But let me share this secret: it has the power to heal. And if I had to compare the two, the Saudi desert is astonishing compared to Qatar’s.

 

Here are some postcards for day three:

 

My road trip to Al-Hasa was great, but the state of the city was essentially sad and disappointing. I had certain expectations so maybe it was on me. The place used to be the capital of the whole of Eastern Arabia, once upon a time. It has so much history that it was really a shame to note these observations. I would have loved to present you all with a glorious description of what it looks like now. I could almost sense the city itself feeling humiliated to be seen the way it was, almost hear it apologize for its miserable state. I blame the people. Do they hate their city? Or their history? Or do they hate nature? The environment? Or even (shock) sanitation?? I find it hard to believe. Maybe they’re just lazy? Maybe I just had to see Al-Hasa to appreciate Doha a little more. In any case, both stereotypes were incorrect.

1. The people like to prank, they are imaginative and would not hesitate to invite a complete stranger over.
2. The market sucks (at least for now).

Then again, I was there for two and a half days, so what do I know?? 

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*It was not called sejn al-qalaa (The Fort Prison) as I stated in Forks in the Road, but was actually called “The Prison of Slaves” . According to my new findings I have made changes to Forks in the Road.