I Froze My Italian Ass Off

I celebrated my 52nd birthday on a bus in the desert of Saudi Arabia

Ciao Dear Reader:

I promised you last time that I’d tell a funny story about my 52nd birthday, which came last February. Well, at least I think the story is funny, and sometimes the only thing one can do is laugh. It’s much better than whining about things you can’t change!

Brant and I were wrapping up our visit AlUla, Saudi Arabia, site of the ultra-modern Maraya mirrored building and the ancient stone tombs of Hegra.

We travel on a shoestring budget. That often means catching redeye flights or sleeping in bus stations like a homeless person.

And that’s precisely what happened!

The bus station (Can I call it that?) in AlUla was some sketchy intersection in a bleak part of town, with no sign or a marker indicating we were in the right place. To give you an idea, here’s a video we left for a fellow traveler:

The good news is — the bus arrived on time, just about 10 PM the evening before my birthday! We were so happy to see it.

The bad news is, the bus had no heat, and it was 7 degrees Centigrade (44 degrees Farenheit) inside. That may not seem so bad, but when you are on a bus for seven hours, you start to freeze.

And that’s how I started my 52nd birthday — in a rolling refrigerator somewhere in the middle of the Saudi desert.

But it gets worse.

The “bus station” in Hail (Dare I call it that?) was not much better than the desolate intersection we left. We arrived around 5 AM to find a small, smelly, cold room occupied by what appeared to be Hail’s only two homeless men, one of whom immediately greeted us with a loud “How are you?” He continued to holler, mostly in Arabic, for the next hour. That’s where Brant tried to catch a few hours of sleep.

I was shuffled off to an adjacent room, reserved just for women, but just as cold and bleak.

My last warm day in AlUla

When it became clear that we would not be able to recover the sleep we lost on the cold bus, we left the Hail bus station in search of breakfast. The sun was just peaking up over the city’s buildings. Nothing was open. It was freezing cold. Brant and I, loaded like camels with our backpacks, hopscotched from patch of sunlight to another, hoping to get warm. An hour of fruitless wandering went by. Then another.

Happy Birthday to me.

Finally, fortune smiled on us. A friendly shopkeeper, just opening his store, pointed us toward an open door. It looked promising.

It was.

Inside, it was warm and comfortable. A smiling Yemanese man led us to a private room where we ordered hot, sweet tea and freshly baked bread.

The friendly Yemanese man who helped us. Not great teeth, but a beautiful smile!

If Brant looks weary, he was. He ate something bad in AlUla, and it tormented him for days until we got back to Italy and I gave him some Bimixin. That healed him up pronto!

We did not dwell in Hail. Our purpose there was to catch a train to Riyadh. Knowing that we had hours to wait, our taxi driver offered to host us in his home. That’s typical of the Saudi people — so gracious and hospitable!

We politely declined, and Brant did his best to help me celebrate by sticking a plastic straw in a donut, pretending it was a candle in a cupcake. Then he sang me the birthday song before running off to the toilet for the 100th time!

My birthday “cake”

When we finally settled on the train, we noticed a fluster of activity around us. Apparently, the Saudi women were shy about sitting in the same space as Brant. They kept whispering to each other and giggling, pushing their children into the open seats in front of us. One of those was this handsome young man.

All is well that ends well, and my 52nd birthday is now one for the record books. Brant and I arrived in Riyadh safe and sound, with a new story to tell. After a good night’s rest, we visited the “Edge of the World” you see in these pictures and watched the sun set on a beautiful land with lovely people.

The “Edge of the World” near Riyadh, for obvious reasons

Thanks for reading my birthday story. It’s an experience I’ll never forget!

If you like my travel stories, be sure to check out “Far and Wild” about my 20 years of travel through 100+ countries as a single woman. I know you’ll like it!

Coming Up Next!

Coming up next, I’ll share another birthday story when I was in a really low spot, a bona fide depression.

No, not like that! I was in the Danakil Depression at 125 meters (410 ft) below sea level! Wait until you see pictures of the place. They will blow your mind!

Until then, all the best, my darlings!