“Are you going somewhere nice?” I ask the sales assistant at Boots as I hand her the hefty tube of sunscreen on a cold January afternoon. I give him an honest answer, which means I’m not so sure.
After all, who would go to Saudi Arabia? According to the latest available estimates, around 80,000 Britons make the trip a year. However, the majority of these are religious visits and business trips. In fact, the ultra-conservative desert kingdom didn’t even issue tourist visas until 2019. So what changed?
In one word: money. As much of the world tries to transition away from fossil fuels, the world’s second-largest oil producer can no longer rely solely on black gold for its economic future. Instead, a modernizing Crown Prince wants to invest nearly $800 billion (yes, billion) to build a world-class tourism industry. So is Saudi Arabia really ready to welcome visitors?
Anyone who wants to learn this may face an immediate hurdle: getting a visa. In theory, traveling with a UK passport qualifies you for a visa on arrival at the airport. But there’s a catch: it’ll cost you around £100. Instead, we were told it was best to apply for an “electronic visa waiver”, which costs just £30. However, when I try to fill out the mandatory form online, the whole system crashes.
For any casual traveler, this kind of clunky manager is annoying at the best of times. But this is especially frustrating given that Saudi Arabia was inspired by the success of the UAE (and Dubai in particular) – a country that essentially abolished visas for Western travelers years ago. If you want to start a tourism industry, why bother with bureaucratic procedures?
Things start to look up when you arrive in the Red Sea destination Jeddah, considered Saudi Arabia’s more liberal city. After flying with the national airline Saudia (from London), we go directly to a stylish new terminal. As is often the case, I am filled with shame when I think about the congested and crumbling infrastructure in my hometown. Meanwhile, the immigration process goes smoothly as a friendly veiled border officer welcomes me to the Kingdom.
For most of its history, Saudi Arabia was among the most devout Islamic societies in the world. But current Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (or “MBS”) has embarked on a controversial modernization drive, including removing the powers of the religious police. Some changes, such as allowing women to drive, made global headlines. But it is the less reported changes that are likely to impact tourists.
Take restaurants for example. Ten years ago, every organization in Saudi Arabia was tasked with maintaining gender-segregated spaces. These days, Jeddah’s well-heeled residents can mingle freely at venues such as Nobu and Novikov, or hang out in Shoreditch-style cafés with odd names (walking along the gorgeous coastal path, I spot one called ‘Overdose’). Even small local restaurants have thrown out the old rules.
Similarly, religious dress codes have also been greatly relaxed for both locals and tourists. Except for visiting mosques, visitors are advised to keep only their knees and shoulders covered. Women who choose to eschew the once-mandatory headscarf will encounter few problems; Many younger residents will make the same choice.
Will tourism trigger further liberalization in Saudi Arabia? I’m not so sure. After all, the Saudi monarchy appears to have taken a page from the book of another conservative Islamic country, the Maldives, and green-lighted the construction of a series of private resort islands where Westerners can frolic in bikinis without offending any local sensibilities.
The first is the St Regis Red Sea, which opened in January with room rates of more than £1,000 per night. Since it was only accessible by boat or seaplane, I decided to choose a different option that would allow me to see more of the Saudi community. With this in mind, I booked the magnificent Park Hyatt Jeddah at the southern end of the promenade.
As far as five-star hotels go, it’s as luxurious as anywhere I’ve stayed in the Middle East, but a little more conservative. Unlike similar hotels in Dubai or Muscat, for example, there is no opportunity to buy alcoholic beverages. Likewise, the hotel’s fitness facilities are strictly segregated by gender (but far from being a sexist decision, the manager assures me that the facilities for women are even better).
After exploring Park Hyatt’s luxurious grounds, I take a taxi to Al Balad, Jeddah’s historical district. The old town, with its ancient coral stone buildings and small alleyways, is both fascinating to look at and exciting to explore. Even better, it’s completely free of the inconveniences I’ve encountered in other destinations in the Middle East; “good price!” The sales patter you get in the Dubai souk, or the dangerous swarms of mopeds like in Marrakesh.
With burqa-wearing women and worshipers flocking to mosques, Al Balad certainly feels conservative but not oppressive; At least for a Western man passing through. But just when I thought I had a feel for the place, I came across something completely unexpected: an outdoor comedy show.
Chatting with the organiser, a young Saudi woman representing a local arts charity, I learned that the comedian on stage was actually teaching a lesson: he was teaching a handful of locals the art of writing jokes. To my pleasant surprise, I tell the story to a local person at the hotel. “This is nothing,” she says. “I was invited to a salsa lesson there a few weeks ago.”
Jeddah may be a city in progress. But is anyone really going to make the seven-hour drive from London to go on holiday here? Luxury hotels seem confident enough: Four Seasons and Raffles will open in Jeddah this year. While the Saudi monarchy spends lavishly on sporting events, including the 2034 men’s football World Cup, the people are clearly optimistic about its future.
While I was enjoying my last Jeddah sunset presentation at the Park Hyatt, I receive an email from Saudi Arabia about my upcoming flight. It says that due to the amount of available seats, I can enjoy a second seat, or even the entire row, for a little extra payment. By the standards of modern airlines, this is a thoughtful and enterprising touch. But as an indicator of a healthy tourism industry, this doesn’t bode well.