AlUla: Walking Among Ancient Giants

The First Glimpse

I arrived in AlUla just before dawn, which turned out to be the perfect timing I hadn't planned for. The bus from Medina had been delayed, and I'd spent most of the night half-asleep against a rattling window. But as we descended into the valley and the first rays of sunlight hit those ancient sandstone formations, every minute of discomfort evaporated.

AlUla isn't just a destination—it's a geological and archaeological miracle spanning 7,000 years of human history. The valley stretches for about 22 kilometers, flanked by towering rock formations that shift from gold to deep amber as the sun moves across the sky. The ancient Lihyanite, Nabataean, and Roman civilizations all left their marks here, creating what feels like an open-air museum where every rock tells a story.

Hegra: Saudi Arabia's First UNESCO Site

Let me be honest—I thought I was prepared for Hegra. I'd seen photos, read descriptions, even watched documentaries. None of it mattered. Standing in front of Qasr al-Farid, the "Lonely Castle," was a humbling experience that no amount of preparation could replicate.

This massive tomb stands alone, carved from a single outcrop of rock, its facade rising 22 meters high. The Nabataeans sculpted it in the first century CE, and it was never completed—you can still see the chisel marks where workers stopped mid-carving. The morning I visited, I was completely alone with it for nearly twenty minutes. Just me, this ancient monument, and the desert wind that's been carving these rocks for millennia.

What struck me most wasn't the tomb's size or its intricate facade with those perfectly proportioned columns. It was the door. A simple rectangular opening, human-sized, leading into darkness. I couldn't enter—the tombs are protected—but I spent a long time just looking at that doorway, thinking about the last person who walked through it nearly two thousand years ago.

The Living Landscape

Beyond Hegra, AlUla offers experiences that blend natural wonder with human history in ways I'd never encountered before. Elephant Rock (Jabal AlFil) is exactly what it sounds like—a massive rock formation that looks like an elephant drinking from the sand. I camped near it one night, part of a small group arranged through my hotel.

As darkness fell, the rock transformed. The setting sun painted it in shades of orange and crimson I'd never seen in nature. We cooked simple food over a fire, and our Bedouin guide, Ahmed, shared stories his grandfather had told him about traveling these same valleys with camel caravans. The stars that night were so bright they cast shadows. I've traveled to remote places before, but I'd never experienced darkness so complete or a sky so alive.

Old Town AlUla: A Village Frozen in Time

The old town of AlUla village sits on a hillside, a labyrinth of abandoned mudbrick houses that were inhabited until the 1980s. Walking through its narrow alleys felt like stepping into a time machine. These weren't museum pieces—until recently, real families lived here, their lives shaped by the same landscape that hosted the Nabataeans.

I spent an afternoon exploring the old town with a local guide named Fahad, whose grandparents had lived in one of the houses near the mosque. He showed me the cooling systems they built—clever ventilation shafts that created natural air conditioning in the brutal summer heat. We climbed to the rooftops where families used to sleep on hot nights, and from there, the entire valley spread before us: ancient tombs, modern hotels, date palm oases, all existing simultaneously in this surreal landscape.

The Food That Grounds You

Travel writing often skips over food unless it's exotic or unusual, but I found that some of my most meaningful AlUla moments happened over meals. At a local restaurant called Suhail, tucked away in the newer part of town, I had mandi that redefined what I thought rice and meat could be. The lamb had been slow-cooked underground for hours until it fell apart at the touch of a fork, served over fragrant rice with a complexity of spices I couldn't identify.

The owner, Mohammed, sat with me after the meal and explained that his family had been serving travelers in AlUla for five generations. "We fed the pilgrims going to Mecca, the merchants on the incense route, and now we feed people like you," he said with a smile. That continuity—the thread connecting ancient trade routes to modern tourism—made the food taste even better.

What They Don't Tell You

AlUla is expensive by Saudi standards. The government has invested billions in developing it as a luxury tourism destination, and prices reflect that ambition. Budget travelers will struggle here—there aren't hostels or cheap guesthouses. My mid-range hotel cost more per night than I'd normally spend in a week elsewhere in the Middle East.

Also, AlUla is controlled. You can't just wander into archaeological sites; everything requires tickets, often booked days in advance. Part of me appreciated the protection this offers to ancient treasures. Another part missed the spontaneity of just stumbling upon history. It's a trade-off, and I understood it, but it's worth knowing before you go.

The climate is extreme. I visited in November, supposedly the ideal time, and afternoon temperatures still hit 35°C (95°F). Summer would be genuinely dangerous without proper precautions. But those same harsh conditions that make modern visits challenging are exactly what preserved these sites for millennia.

Why AlUla Matters

On my last evening, I sat on the terrace of my hotel watching the sunset paint the valley in impossible colors. A group of Saudi families was there too—parents, grandparents, kids running around. They were just as amazed as I was, photographing everything, exclaiming over the views.

That's when I realized what makes AlUla special beyond its obvious archaeological significance. For Saudi families, this is a rediscovery of their own heritage. The country opened to tourism so recently that many Saudis are exploring these sites alongside foreign visitors, learning about civilizations that existed on this land long before Islam, long before modern boundaries.

AlUla represents a bold statement: that Saudi Arabia is more than oil and Mecca, that its history stretches back thousands of years, and that it's ready to share these stories with the world. Whether this grand experiment in heritage tourism succeeds remains to be seen, but standing in front of those Nabataean tombs, feeling that connection across centuries, I couldn't help but hope it does.