Sailing to Saudi Arabia on One of the First Cruises to the Country

On the rare occasions I would think of Saudi Arabia over the course of my life, my thoughts were of camels trekking across the vast Arabian desert. Of Malcolm X's visit to Mecca as depicted in the 1992 Spike Lee film. Of oil wealth. Of controversial policies on gender and sexuality. I would never think of water.

Water surrounds the Arabian Peninsula and brackets the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia on two sides: the Persian Gulf to the east and the Red Sea in the west. For centuries, Arab seafarers plied the waters around Arabia, harnessing the winds in triangular lateen sails and ferrying fish to shore; spices and manufactured goods from East to West and back again; the Arabic language and Islamic faith to lands along the Indian Ocean; and treasures—as well as enslaved people—back to Arabia and beyond. With some 1,640 miles of coastline, Saudi Arabia is as much an ocean kingdom as it is a desert one—which is why the cruise industry has arrived here just as the kingdom is opening up to international travelers.

I landed in the Red Sea port city of Jeddah, long the gateway and entrepôt to Arabia: The holiest city in the Islamic world, Mecca, is 55 miles to the east. My journey brought me and 149 other passengers aboard one of the first international cruises to depart Jeddah, calling at ports foreigners had rarely been able to visit before. The very act of visiting a place unknown to so many stoked in me an exhilaration tinged with anxiety.

Our vessel was the ultra-luxurious Scenic Eclipse, an expedition-style yacht: intimate at only 551 feet in length, with eight passenger decks and 114 suites; elegant in its sleek design, spacious restaurants and lounges, and personal butlers; audacious with its two helicopters and six-passenger submarine; familial with its gracious, witty crew, hospitable to a person. We departed on a special one-off sailing on the Eclipse, after which Scenic's sister brand, Emerald Cruises, plans to use Jeddah as a starting point for its Emerald Azzurra itineraries. The uniqueness of the moment settled in as port officials and immigration officers in the small, newly built passenger terminal processed, photographed, and welcomed our group.

Smiles and nods, curiosity and affection, greeted us at every port. In the narrow streets of Jeddah's historic quarter, Al-Balad, flanked by ornate coral limestone edifices with latticed windows and arabesque doors, a group of older men sat on cushioned platforms, chatting and drinking tea. They laughed warmly, saying “Welcome” repeatedly as we roamed the streets, admiring mounds of saffron-colored spice in a shop window. I wondered how many travelers like myself had ever strolled these quarters or interacted with these men. As the evening call to prayer began, we returned to the Eclipse, a cool, dark respite from the radiant thrill of our first day, and set sail as mariners have done for centuries on the moonlit waters of the Red Sea.

After a day of beach-bumming on Marmar Island, ringed by coral reefs accessed only in scuba gear or the Eclipse's submersible, we sailed north to Yanbu, a small port city with a refurbished marketplace. Once the worst heat of the day had subsided, we walked to the marketplace, and children greeted us with flower necklaces and exuberant attempts at English. In the marketplace, a group from the ship accepted some friendly locals' invitation to sit down to coffee and pastries, language barriers dissolving like sugar cubes in coffee. Laughter sparkled throughout the area, full of Saudi families, shopkeepers selling fabrics and sweets, and our group of sunburned wanderers.

Early the next morning, with the Eclipse anchored, we flew from Yanbu to AlUla, an ancient town in the sandstone deserts of the northwest. Our tour buses coursed through a Martian landscape of beige, rust, yellow, and gold, first arriving at Hegra, a collection of more than 100 ancient tombs carved into the ochre-colored sandstone rocks. Built some 2,000 years ago by the Nabataeans, best known for their capital city, Petra, Hegra's tombs loomed above our heads as grand portals to other dimensions: a time of exploration, perhaps, when places and experiences were still new, when wonder and surprise still came easily. In Hegra, I stood in wonder and surprise, which may be the greatest gift a destination can give a traveler.

In the afternoon, we wandered the labyrinthine warren of medieval mud-brick houses in AlUla, all pale orange and beige under a pale-blue sky. I split off from my shipmates, stepping into room after room and imagining the lives of the people who'd once dwelled there: families with children, shopkeepers, travelers from far away. I felt a familiarity with the place, where people throughout the ages have lived and loved for millennia.

As I walked back toward our bus, I passed two young local merchants sitting along the path. They looked me straight in the eyes and nodded. One of them said, “Habibi.” Beloved. And I was at once reminded that culture is merely cosmetic.

How to travel to Saudi Arabia

In 2019, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia opened up to commercial tourism for international visitors, as part of a plan to lessen its dependency on oil and diversify its economy. A visa is required to enter the country; Americans are among the 49 nationalities that can apply for an e-visa online. While some travelers may jump at the opportunity to explore the antiquities and natural wonders of this ancient, unfamiliar land, Saudi Arabia's history of human-rights abuses may give others pause. “I would encourage any American to travel to Saudi,” says writer Ernest White II, whose biggest takeaway from his visit was the warmth of its citizens. His tip is to be respectful. Abide by etiquette rules, such as no public displays of affection. Find our complete primer on everything to consider before traveling to Saudi Arabia here.

This article appeared in the April 2022 issue of Condé Nast Traveler. Subscribe to the magazine here.