6132 miles, 16 countries, Qatar to the UK

[jeepstertim]

2 years ago I drove from Qatar in the Middle East back to my home in the Dorset, UK. What follows is the story of the trip to inspire, inform and keep the overlanding bug alive in me. I'll update regularly, I hope you all enjoy it.

QATAR TO DORSET

It was always part of the plan after my time working in Qatar, I’d treat myself to the long overland drive home at the end. Almost as soon as I’d settled into my apartment in Old Al Ghanim, a slightly less glamourous part of the busy and hectic Doha, I started planning. I also had to decide on the vehicle I’d use for the journey and how I’d sleep, eat, wash and cook.

Jeep introduced the JT Gladiator, a pickup version of the Wrangler, in 2019 and as a log time Jeep fan, it was a simple choice. My Sting Grey Gladiator was a Rubicon version and with solid axles, locking front and rear differentials, a sway bar (roll bar in English) disconnect, it was expedition ready out of the box. Over the next two and a half years I upgraded it slightly with a very mild lift, rear spring assist airbags to cope with the planned weight, larger all terrain tyres, snorkel (mainly to help mitigate the sand and dust of the Middle East), spotlights and rear sway bar reinforcement. To make it liveable, I had a half height canopy made locally in aluminium with 3 access doors, I fabricated 2 full length drawers in wood in the basement of the apartment and bought a rechargeable fridge. Living accommodation was an ARB Esperance 2 hardshell roof tent mounted on the canopy, a large foldable table, 2 chairs, a portable shower and a twin gas cannister powered cooker completed home comforts.

For the next 2 years I bounced this combination across the dirt, dust and sand of Qatar trying to refine my solution. Planning where everything would go was a case of trial and error as in addition to the stuff I needed for the journey, the rest of my apartment’s contents had to squeeze in too.

Day 1, Monday 1st Apr 24

The journey was planned to start, aptly, on April Fool’s Day 2024, about halfway through Ramadan. Fully loaded and provisioned with 5 days of food, 40l of water and up to 60l of additional fuel capacity (I only ever actually carried 20l filled and never needed it), I headed to the Qatari/ Saudi border down the immaculate tarmac of the Q5 Salwa Road I knew well from Doha.

Mentally, the Qatari border was my biggest hurdle. I had told a small white lie to retain my Qatari ID card, without which I could not own the Jeep in Qatar and would normally have been surrendered prior to departure and although I still had my QID, it was with some trepidation that I approached the border crossing. The border was deserted with no sign of life and as is typical in the middle east and no sign of directions, where to go or the process for crossing either. I eventually found someone who pointed me to the right building and with photographs and fingerprints taken, I moved onto the next building. Process, delays, endless stamping of bits of paper and disinterested security were to be hallmarks of all border crossings up to Israel.

I emerged into Saudi euphoric that it was all underway, mentally my biggest hurdle cleared and the adventure of a lifetime ahead of me, an adventure that would cover some 6000km, take me through rivers, deserts, up a volcano, across 13 countries and to places of spectacular wonder.

Saudi

Regardless of one’s thoughts or preconceptions of Saudi, it was undoubtedly the highlight of the entire journey. I travelled northwest towards the first night’s stop in the town of Al Hofuf and after an hour or so and with initial ultra vigilance waning, I came unexpectedly across what was to be a feature of the middle east. The ninja speed hump, unseen, stealthy and deadly effective, I regularly found myself launched skyward, cursing, by these invisible humps with the heavily laden Jeep complaining and groaning as we came back to earth with a shock. The fact the Jeep, my back and my cargo survived these repeated launches is nothing short of a miracle.

I arrived at Al Hofuf (25°25'34.8"N 49°41'35.0"E) about 4 hours and 160 miles after the border and set to finding a camp for the night. The first night’s camp was remote and quiet and after a simple tuna pasta, I took the opportunity to have an early night.

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[jeepstertim]

Day 2, Tuesday 2nd Apr 24

Al Hofuf is a non-descript town, made worthy by a visit to the rock formations. The Al Qarah Mountain (Jabal Al Qarah) sandstone rocks were an interesting introduction to what was to become an increasingly awe-inspiring feature of Saudis geography. Climb completed (after several failed attempts to find the way down), I headed West, in the direction of Riyadh, the country’s capital city, but ultimately heading for Edge of the World.

I had spent the best part of 3 years planning the drive and had mapped in detail, down to dirt tracks, my route using the Gaia software and app so all I had to do was follow the line on the Jeep’s screen. So far, on tarmac, the Gaia had worked faultlessly so about 260 miles later, as I turned off-road, I was looking forward to seeing if the off-road tracks element of my planning would work. I had learnt in Qatar how much reducing tyre pressures helped driving off road improving comfort, floatation and traction and once off the black top, I reduced tyre pressures to about 18psi. I drove on for another 2 hours in the direction of the Edge of the World, coming across a Land Cruiser (the modern ship of the desert) bellied out on a berm, its occupants (about 10 Chinese) standing around scratching their heads. I stopped short, handed them a couple of shovels and watched them dig away to free the stuck Toyota.

Edge of the World, known locally as Jebel Fihraynhad (24°57'20.6"N 45°59'58.0"E), had fascinated me during my planning, it’s part of the much longer Tuwaiq Escarpment, stretching for 1000km across central Saudi and drops down 1,000 feet into an ancient ocean bed. The views are stunning and it’s easy to visualise the ancient sea below, stretching out to the horizon. After walking around this incredible spot, chatting to the 3 bored police in their Toyota FJ cruiser and watched the Chinese (who had now changed into wedding dresses for photographs), I pitched camp for the night, lit a fire and revelled in the isolation, sunset and eerie quiet.

Day 3, 3rd Apr 24

I had hoped to continue through the Edge of the World on my planned route but the police refused me and I had to retrace my steps East before heading South towards Riyadh. I hadn’t planned to stop in the capital but cruised through its centre on wide, busy motorways, dodging erratically driven 4 wheeled missiles. I can’t say Riyadh seemed particularly notable from my route; it felt very much like any other middle eastern city; new, dusty and bustling. What Riyadh does have is some spectacular countryside and as I emerged from the outskirts into Martian red sands, granite towers and wide open views that made me feel like I was in a western movie, I refuelled and settled into what was always going to be the longest single drive of the trip, over 9 hours and 600+ miles towards Thee Ain in the South West. With one of the Flashman audiobooks playing, the miles on the blacktop slid by effortlessly with the ever-changing Saudi landscape passing with each bend or dip revealing some new rock, vista, vegetation or animal to keep me enthralled. As I travelled South, the weather changed from the sun and showers of the day and began to become very stormy with vivid shocks of lightning floodlighting the wide-open plains. Sensibly deciding this was not the place to camp on top of the Jeep with little to no cover, at 1930hrs I pulled off into the town of Al Bishah, took refuge in Air B&B and a slept safely.

 

[jeepstertim]

Day 4, 4th Apr 24

Mid-morning I came across Wadi Ranyah (20°05'06.4"N 41°52'39.8"E) in full spate on the border of Al Bahah and Aseer provinces. The tarmac road had been washed away by the previous night’s storms and I paused, scratching my head to work out what next. The wadi was about 200m across and flowing fast, to my left I could see a pick-up and a van stranded in the middle with people knee to thigh deep labouring to extract them. I dropped off the road to the left and edge towards the banks, waving and halloos came from the people in the water and lots of gesticulating. A teenager came over to the Jeep and through hand signals, he assured me I would make it through and by the way, would you mind towing us out? He jumped onto the side steps and proceeded to act as my guide, in 4wd the Jeep had no problems and although my guide’s feet were getting wet, mine weren’t. I stopped in front of the van and with the water raging around the Jeep, deployed the tow rope and pulled. Nothing. The van was sitting on its belly; the wheels having dug deep holes in the gravel bottom of the wadi so the shovels were deployed again (good job I’d brought 2). Low 4wd with the diff locks in and using some of the rope’s kinetic energy we tried again, the van bounced out of the ruts and I dragged it to the far bank to evident celebration. Much chatter, the obligatory selfie, the naming of football teams being a seemingly common language and I was on my way again.

The day took me onto more rural roads, passing through villages and farmland where the damage and rain from the storm was all too evident. Descending the mad, wiggly King Fahd Road from Al Bahah with its ‘Do not feed the Baboons’ signs had the brakes beginning to lose their effectiveness and I was relieved to reach Thee Ain (19°55'55.4"N 41°26'34.2"E). Nestled in the highlands of Tihamah, the 8th century village of Thee Ain captivates with its 49 regular square buildings piled on top of each other. Built on a rocky hilltop 800 meters above sea level, its ancient builders using early forms of blueprints to ensure that the buildings, some reaching up to four stories, fit perfectly with the available space, perched atop the marble rock. The site is amazing, surrounded by verdant farmland, echoing to the noise of baboons (who, whenever I met them, scarpered long before I could get a camera out – I suspect they may not rub along with the locals all that well) and kept immaculate (for the M.E) as they try to gain Heritage status.

One thing that had noticeably changed by the time I reached Thee Ain was the temperature, it was now hot and with the humidity up, I thought I’d deviate from my planned route and head for the coast. What a mistake…..

The lower I dropped and the closer to the Red Sea I got, the hotter and more humid it became. Deviating from my route, I had no planned stop for the night and at 1815hrs began to cast around for a likely looking spot, settling on a quiet area next to an almost dried out riverbed away from the road (19°36'12.5"N 41°15'28.4"E). Within a minute of stopping and starting to set camp, I was sweating. The night was mostly sleepless, hot and clammy in the roof tent and beset by barking dogs and knackered Toyota pickups driving past. I had unwittingly parked close to a farm and chastising myself for route deviation I resolved to get back up into the cool, green mountains.

Day 5, 5th Apr 24.

Over breakfast, I consulted the Gaia app and planned a route, avoiding tarmac for the day, back into the hills. What a day! After reducing the tyre pressures down to 15psi, I headed for the brown stuff (19°39'06.8"N 41°17'39.2"E). The track was severely washed out in places but as I started, the view was staggering and a little awe inspiring for the solo traveller, get it wrong or break down here and I was going to be exceedingly remote and alone. A couple of times I considered stopping and going back, washed out culverts made for axle twisting progress while the steep drops to the side were genuinely alarming, a rolled Jeep here would signal the end to my adventure. The first couple of miles done, the route picked up a dry-ish riverbed and now came the risk of getting bogged in loose, wet soil. Worries aside, the background was stunning, water, flowers, trees, camels and sheep all passed by out of the window. The Camel’s Thorn bush (or bastard bush as I called it from the scratching noise it made down the side of the Jeep or my swearing from after-dark sorties) became a regular feature, its vicious, long talons begging for a lapse in driving attention to leave pin-stripe trails along the bodywork.

I was elated, this is what I had hoped for, the remoteness, the challenge and the experience. I had started at 180m above sea level and we now climbed out of the riverbed and started ascending into the hills eventually stopping for a breather and brew at 2300m. The cool air that came with the altitude a welcome relief from the stickiness of the morning. Joining the road that ran along the spine of the hill range, the views were stunning. The rest of the day was spent driving the ridgeline North through lush green countryside with the shy baboons scurrying out of the way and passing villages and ancient forts. I was back on the planned route and had a stop in mind for the night, the 600 year old Bani Saad Fort, part of the Alkalada Heritage Village (20°54'01.4"N 40°46'47.4"E). The village sits at 2200m and is on the ancient Yemen to Jordan trade route. I arrived early, mid-afternoon and set up camp under the lee of the fort’s tower, levelling the Jeep on some rocks. Within an hour a couple of farmers I had asked directions of turned up and invited me for supper, having set up and with the Jeep being unable to move without collapsing everything I politely declined. They left and as dusk arrived, a car turned up and spilled out a noisy family who started to clamber over the ruins of the village. The father told me it had all belonged to his family many years ago and took me on a guided scramble over the stones. Tour over, he invited me to join his family for supper which again I sadly declined.

 

[JTdiRtyD]

This is awesome!

I am all too familiar with those ninja desert speed humps.

 

[AstroZombie]

Amazing and you are solo ? #winning

 

[jeepstertim]

Solo for a lot of it but joined by my 2 brothers for various legs.

 

[Neomonk21]

Oh wow, this is awesome! I'm tagging this so I can come back and finish reading everything later. Thanks for taking the time to post it all!

 

[Jcw7897]

Incredible!! Thanks for sharing!!!

 

[Jteakus]

Looking forward to more posts, incredible trip.

 

[Flyin6]

a most impressive and inspiring journey!

It seems to me you Brits have a flair for adventure. I was stationed in Kandahar alongside the British Royal Marines and got to know them somewhat.
Good little jog you had there. Where to next??? Britain to Japan???

 

[RenegadeBI]

Day 4, 4th Apr 24

Mid-morning I came across Wadi Ranyah (20°05'06.4"N 41°52'39.8"E) in full spate on the border of Al Bahah and Aseer provinces. The tarmac road had been washed away by the previous night’s storms and I paused, scratching my head to work out what next. The wadi was about 200m across and flowing fast, to my left I could see a pick-up and a van stranded in the middle with people knee to thigh deep labouring to extract them. I dropped off the road to the left and edge towards the banks, waving and halloos came from the people in the water and lots of gesticulating. A teenager came over to the Jeep and through hand signals, he assured me I would make it through and by the way, would you mind towing us out? He jumped onto the side steps and proceeded to act as my guide, in 4wd the Jeep had no problems and although my guide’s feet were getting wet, mine weren’t. I stopped in front of the van and with the water raging around the Jeep, deployed the tow rope and pulled. Nothing. The van was sitting on its belly; the wheels having dug deep holes in the gravel bottom of the wadi so the shovels were deployed again (good job I’d brought 2). Low 4wd with the diff locks in and using some of the rope’s kinetic energy we tried again, the van bounced out of the ruts and I dragged it to the far bank to evident celebration. Much chatter, the obligatory selfie, the naming of football teams being a seemingly common language and I was on my way again.

The day took me onto more rural roads, passing through villages and farmland where the damage and rain from the storm was all too evident. Descending the mad, wiggly King Fahd Road from Al Bahah with its ‘Do not feed the Baboons’ signs had the brakes beginning to lose their effectiveness and I was relieved to reach Thee Ain (19°55'55.4"N 41°26'34.2"E). Nestled in the highlands of Tihamah, the 8th century village of Thee Ain captivates with its 49 regular square buildings piled on top of each other. Built on a rocky hilltop 800 meters above sea level, its ancient builders using early forms of blueprints to ensure that the buildings, some reaching up to four stories, fit perfectly with the available space, perched atop the marble rock. The site is amazing, surrounded by verdant farmland, echoing to the noise of baboons (who, whenever I met them, scarpered long before I could get a camera out – I suspect they may not rub along with the locals all that well) and kept immaculate (for the M.E) as they try to gain Heritage status.

One thing that had noticeably changed by the time I reached Thee Ain was the temperature, it was now hot and with the humidity up, I thought I’d deviate from my planned route and head for the coast. What a mistake…..

The lower I dropped and the closer to the Red Sea I got, the hotter and more humid it became. Deviating from my route, I had no planned stop for the night and at 1815hrs began to cast around for a likely looking spot, settling on a quiet area next to an almost dried out riverbed away from the road (19°36'12.5"N 41°15'28.4"E). Within a minute of stopping and starting to set camp, I was sweating. The night was mostly sleepless, hot and clammy in the roof tent and beset by barking dogs and knackered Toyota pickups driving past. I had unwittingly parked close to a farm and chastising myself for route deviation I resolved to get back up into the cool, green mountains.

Day 5, 5th Apr 24.

Over breakfast, I consulted the Gaia app and planned a route, avoiding tarmac for the day, back into the hills. What a day! After reducing the tyre pressures down to 15psi, I headed for the brown stuff (19°39'06.8"N 41°17'39.2"E). The track was severely washed out in places but as I started, the view was staggering and a little awe inspiring for the solo traveller, get it wrong or break down here and I was going to be exceedingly remote and alone. A couple of times I considered stopping and going back, washed out culverts made for axle twisting progress while the steep drops to the side were genuinely alarming, a rolled Jeep here would signal the end to my adventure. The first couple of miles done, the route picked up a dry-ish riverbed and now came the risk of getting bogged in loose, wet soil. Worries aside, the background was stunning, water, flowers, trees, camels and sheep all passed by out of the window. The Camel’s Thorn bush (or bastard bush as I called it from the scratching noise it made down the side of the Jeep or my swearing from after-dark sorties) became a regular feature, its vicious, long talons begging for a lapse in driving attention to leave pin-stripe trails along the bodywork.

I was elated, this is what I had hoped for, the remoteness, the challenge and the experience. I had started at 180m above sea level and we now climbed out of the riverbed and started ascending into the hills eventually stopping for a breather and brew at 2300m. The cool air that came with the altitude a welcome relief from the stickiness of the morning. Joining the road that ran along the spine of the hill range, the views were stunning. The rest of the day was spent driving the ridgeline North through lush green countryside with the shy baboons scurrying out of the way and passing villages and ancient forts. I was back on the planned route and had a stop in mind for the night, the 600 year old Bani Saad Fort, part of the Alkalada Heritage Village (20°54'01.4"N 40°46'47.4"E). The village sits at 2200m and is on the ancient Yemen to Jordan trade route. I arrived early, mid-afternoon and set up camp under the lee of the fort’s tower, levelling the Jeep on some rocks. Within an hour a couple of farmers I had asked directions of turned up and invited me for supper, having set up and with the Jeep being unable to move without collapsing everything I politely declined. They left and as dusk arrived, a car turned up and spilled out a noisy family who started to clamber over the ruins of the village. The father told me it had all belonged to his family many years ago and took me on a guided scramble over the stones. Tour over, he invited me to join his family for supper which again I sadly declined.

You got some balls man!

 

[Adobehome.judy]

I, too, thank you for posting. Well written and great pics!

 

[S JEEPN]

Thanks Great adventure and account of it. I used to like when they had similar stories in the off road magazines of adventurous journeys by Jeep, Land cruiser, land rover, Nissan patrol, truck or motorcycle.

 

[jeepstertim]

a most impressive and inspiring journey!

It seems to me you Brits have a flair for adventure. I was stationed in Kandahar alongside the British Royal Marines and got to know them somewhat.
Good little jog you had there. Where to next??? Britain to Japan???

It's the Dutch that seem to have the greatest wanderlust, bumped into them all over the drive home!

The 'Booties' are a breed apart I've always enjoyed serving with a Marine.

 

[jeepstertim]

Next instalment.

Day 6, 6th Apr 24.

Striking camp at 0845hrs I resumed the journey North along the ridgeline on blissfully uncluttered roads through quiet village with the hilltop forts watching my progress. By lunch I reached the Al Wahbah crater (22°53'41.6"N 41°07'52.1"E). 250m deep and 2km across, the crater is stunning, the bottom sparking white with salt. Originally believed to be caused by a meteorite strike, it is now accepted it’s a volcanic crater. Arriving on a Saturday during Ramadan, the recently developed tourist information office was all closed up with one caretaker type lounging in the shade. He lazily raised an arm in greeting and suggested I didn’t climb down into the crater as it was hot and he evidently had no interest in coming to help should I get into difficulty. Having walked to the various provided lookouts to view the crater I moved the Jeep to the North of the crater, flew the drone for some pictures, confirmed it was 2km across and made a tuna and egg salad for lunch. Lunch was eaten, in the heat of the day, perched on the rim of this amazing volcano, gazing out over the like of which I have never seen before.

Lunch over I resumed the journey North, heading for Medinah and a quick sojourn back the UK and then to resume the journey with a passenger, Nick, my youngest brother. The rest of the day was non-descript save for the increasing presence of lava-like rocks. As the sun lowered, I pulled off the road and set camp in the lee of tall volcanic rocks (23°47'55.5"N 40°41'32.1"E).

Day 7, 7th Apr 24.

Today was a tarmac day of little news, edging closer to Medinah. The evening was spent camped between 2 small dormant volcanos.

Day 8, 8th Apr 24.

I arrived in Medinah and having booked an economical hotel via booking.com explored a little of Saudi’s 2nd most holy city and sought refuge in KFC for a decidedly unhealthy supper. The hotel staff were most helpful, the receptionist agreeing to keep the fridge charged for my return and another offering parking at his house. In the end I opted to leave the Jeep at the airport, under cover and pay for the privilege. Having spent the last 8 days on the road, covering 1563 miles, I was reluctant to now put the adventure on hold and head home but Lucy, complete with skiing injury, was feeling isolated so home it was for a fortnight, even if I did squeeze in a couple of days in Zakynthos on the way!

Day 9, 25 Apr

I arrived back into Medinah, relieved to see the Jeep still in the parking lot, untampered with and dusty at about 0100hrs. The Jeep started; I paid an extortionate amount to cover the time I'd been away and headed for the hotel where my new passenger, my brother Nick, was already sleeping. The following morning was relaxed as we loaded the Jeep with water, food and fuel and took the time to have 3 weeks of Saudi dust washed off as I introduced Nick to a Karak, the sweet, spiced tea that had come to be a feature of life in the ME.

We left Medinah heading NE towards Saif on smooth black tarmac for the next hour and half before turning off the black stuff in a northerly direction, reducing tyre pressures and headed towards the white mountain. It was fantastic to back on the adventure, this leg with my brother for company. The tracks were good and we initially made good, if dusty, progress north. After about 3 hours the terrain began to change and the open sandy plains became black with old lava flows which with their jagged hard form began to lacerate the tyres if I lapsed in concentration. The countryside was spectacular with old volcanoes raising up from the lava flows, some dark and menacing, other still pristine and white. We stopped at 1700 hrs to set camp in the lee between the black and white volcanoes. The evening sun warming us, an epicurean supper of tuna pesto was demolished and as the sun slowly withdrew, we began to notice earwigs flying haphazardly by. The earwigs caused no initial worry other than highlighting the fact our boyhood education didn’t include the fact that earwigs had wings! As darkness descended and harassed by the bombing earwigs, we retired to our respective tents and so began the uncomfortable night of 10,000 earwigs.

On climbing into the tent, I noticed a couple of the angry looking insects but once removed, I thought no more about it and after reading briefly, the light went out. After 15 minutes, I was startled out of semi slumber by something falling on my face, light on and I was confronted by something out of Raiders of the Lost Ark. The roof of the tent had become a wriggling, crawling, orgy of earwigs, my sleeping bag was covered and the walls heaved with life. Faced with the thought of a night in that mass of insect-life, I escaped, shaking bugs off like a wet dog and took refuge in the driver’s seat of the Jeep. Uncomfortable, but at least insect free, I managed to nod off behind the steering wheel.

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