In Saudi Arabia’s green highlands, a different kingdom emerges

ABHA, Saudi Arabia — From the air, Abha’s mountains look like a shock of emerald green rising from a sea of ​​sand. Terra firma brings other surprises: a refreshing wind that makes me grab a jacket, an item of clothing almost ignored in other parts of Saudi Arabia.

Indeed, much of Abha, the capital of the southwestern province of Asir, appears two dozen degrees cooler, a far cry from the parched desert that dominates Western notions of kingship.

I am here as a tourist and Saudi Arabia hopes for much more. The government is spending nearly $1 trillion to make this country attractive, which just over a decade ago was one of the most tourist-avoidant countries in the world.

If you’ve read anything about tourism in Saudi Arabia, you’ve probably seen mention of Vision 2030, the kingdom’s sweeping diversification plan to reduce its dependence on oil; Neom, a sci-fi desert metropolis with plans for an artificial moon and flying cars; or the Red Sea Project, which aims to transform the 92-island archipelago on the country’s pristine Red Sea coast into a network of 50 luxury hotels and nearly 1,000 residences.

These two flagship projects were featured heavily during President Trump’s visit to Riyadh in May, where Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the architect of Vision 2030, led him into a hall with detailed mock-ups of the finished product.

Abha and Asir were not included in the prince’s presentation, but they were still part of the tourism transformation, although for now they offer more grounded and arguably more original pleasures; These are the main reasons why I chose to come here. (The other, less strange reason was that I wasn’t sure I could convince my editors to agree to a $2,500-a-night private “dune villa” at the St. Regis Red Sea for “journalistic purposes.”)

Located almost 7,500 feet above sea level, Abha is sometimes nicknamed the “Lady of the Mist” or “Bride of the Mountain” by the Saudis.

Both names seemed appropriate on the day I arrived, and as fog drifted over a nearby peak, I visited Art Street, home to theatres, music festivals, restaurants and cafés. The lilac jacaranda trees were in full bloom. Then, just outside Abha, I drove 20 minutes to Al Sahab Park, which was packed with people admiring the evening mist shrouding 3,892-meter Jabal Soudah, the country’s highest peak.

“People come here to touch the clouds,” said Hussein al-Lami, a 42-year-old pharmaceutical company worker who lives two hours away. He smiled when he saw Harley bikers parked near the cliffs and men and women milling about with Asir’s traditional wreaths made of orange marigold, dill and artemisia, a grey-green herb that resembles sage.

“I left my children and wife at home for a few days’ visit here,” he said. “It’s a good place to clear the mind.”

Men gather for a wedding in Abha, the capital of Saudi Arabia’s Asir province.

(Tasneem Alsultan)

The next morning, I went for a walk along Souq Al Thulatha, a central shopping street that, despite its name (which means Tuesday Market in Arabic), is open every day of the week.

One stall was selling mango slices brought from Jazan, a fertile southern region famous for its tropical fruits, wheat and coffee; others sold raisins, spices, nuts and gourmet honey from Yemen. Traffic was still light, but vendors told me that during the height of the summer season (when many Saudis flee the bonnet-egg-frying heat of Riyadh and Jeddah to Abha), you don’t even have room to stand.

In its push to become a must-see destination, the kingdom is being ecumenical about its audience and hopes to attract not only Saudis who have traveled elsewhere in the past and will spend $27 billion on international travel in 2024, according to government figures, but also international visitors.

There are signs it’s working: A report from the International Monetary Fund noted that annual tourists exceeded Vision 2030’s 100 million target seven years ahead of schedule.

Work on the touristic transformation of Abha is currently ongoing. All over the city you see signs for advertising projects sponsored by the Public Investment Fund, the oil-backed sovereign wealth fund overseeing massive investments in the kingdom’s boundless metamorphosis. Construction to improve the airport will begin soon.

Locals pose in front of a mural in one of the many parks in Abha, where efforts are being made to attract more international tourists.

(Tasneem Alsultan)

The fund plans six tourist zones in the most exclusive locations of the region beyond the city limits; They will take advantage of the area’s majestic landscapes to focus on wellness spas, yoga pavilions, meditation centers, golf courses and glamping pods, according to promotional materials.

“We are in a transitional phase for now, so there is construction and it might be a bit demanding, but things are already looking up,” said Mohammad Hassan, 36, who owns a cafe called Bard wa Sahab (Cold and Clouds) in Abha, near an Instagram-ready mountaintop lookout.

Hassan acknowledged that the development wave will likely increase competition and has already led to an increase in rents. But he seemed happy about what the changes would mean for his business.

“Previously, Abha hosted mostly Saudi visitors or people from Arab countries. [Persian] “We are already seeing more foreigners, but the government’s plans will ensure that Abha is recognized internationally.”

Other residents say the construction has made Asir’s most beautiful parts off-limits and that the focus on luxury will change the free character of the area.

“We would go to the mountains and camp for days. The authorities stopped all that, and of course we won’t be able to do that when the resorts open,” said Nasser, a city employee who gave only his name for privacy reasons.

“Maybe everything the government does will make the situation better, but it’s impossible to go back to the old way of life we ​​had here,” he said.

Another potential break from the past is the possibility of alcohol being allowed in the country. But crossing the Rubicon is not an easy decision for officials who are acutely aware of the kingdom’s status as the birthplace of Islam, which bans alcohol and takes a cold view of those who drink and sell it.

Rijal Almaa, an ancient village about 24 kilometers from Abha, is a popular destination for tourists in Saudi Arabia’s Asir province.

(Tasneem Alsultan)

Still, many believe it will come. Staff working on construction designs for the Red Sea Project say hotel rooms at various resorts will be equipped with elaborate minibars. And the Four Seasons in Riyadh has opened a tonic bar — but no booze — that asks you to “enjoy a symphony of handcrafted cocktails meticulously crafted to stimulate your senses.”

Despite the hundreds of billions of dollars spent by Saudi Arabia, there are skeptics. They point to falling oil prices, which mean the government is unable to balance its budget or keep up with the rising costs of Vision 2030. Several projects have already stalled; Architects working in resorts say that layoffs are increasing and the scope of work is shrinking. Other flagship projects, including Line, have seen their once fantastical goals grounded in the realities of physics and finance.

Whatever the fate of Vision 2030’s grand plans, Abha’s charm awaits.

Rijal Almaa heritage village, Century The state is more than 900 years old.

(Tasneem Alsultan)

One afternoon, I decided to challenge Jabal Soudah, thinking a short walk was in order. I started on a path that was barely there, with a vague plan to return soon. In fact, I was so ill-equipped (with ill-fitting walking shoes, a small bottle of water, and a severe cold) that I had to do it. But I kept going, wondering what the next bend would bring.

Four hours later, sunburnt and windier than I’d like to admit, I reached a village and then hitchhiked back to town.

However, before finding the vehicle, I ignored my tiredness and lingered for a while in this corner of a country known for its deserts rather than the dense forests I passed through. In front of me, the mountain range stretched out beyond the mist. Mist gathered around the peaks, and the last rays of sunset transformed them into a landscape of delicately billowing golden veil.