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Being back home again feels so weird we can't hardly describe what went through us. After having lived in our camper for so long the space of our
house felt huge. The first two days we didn't unpack anything only the things we needed to continue living in our house. Talking Dutch again to family and neighbours was a weird experience. After speaking &
writing English for so long, having learned a bit of Turkish and Arabic, our conversations at home with others was so easy now.
Setting our thoughts to our next destination, Yemen, was almost unbearable. We
were overwhelmed by mixed feelings. Adjusting to the western way of life felt real hard. We felt like strangers in our own house. But leaving again? Adjusting to yet another country with again a different culture,
different people, different money and so on. The thought only couldn't fit in our heads. But staying home for the remainder of the time felt like such a waste.
On the 3rd day home we managed to book a last
minute flight for Sanaa (Yemen) with the Emirates and a Hotel room at Sultan Palace Hotel through Internet. Having done that we unpacked the dusty insides of our camper in a single day and packed our backpacks to
leave again. The Annapurna trail in Nepal had learned us what to pack and what things to leave at home. With two backpacks of 13Kg each we were physically prepped for Yemen. Our minds however still crunching on the
remains of the 'coming home' shock.
After nearly one week at home we left in the evening for an early flight the next day. Closing the door behind us felt real strange, however after an hour we were almost
back into our long practised travel mode. That evening we stayed at the home of Arno's sister in Amsterdam, chatting till midnight.
The next day we got air lifted from Amsterdam to Frankfurt ending up in Dubai
at midnight. The first sight of Arabs in the arrival hall felt almost like arriving at home. Our house in the Netherlands was far away again in distance and in our minds.
During the waiting hours in Dubai we
sat in the Irish pub pondering about the past months while sipping an insane priced drink. What will Yemen be like? How will we manage to travel backpack style after having been spoiled rotten by the way we've
travelled the past months?
In our weary outdoor clothes we certainly didn't fit into the leisure scene at Dubai airport. The place virtually breathes money, everything looks perfect using the best materials,
the trendiest colours and designs. The tax free shopping area is presented like paradise, with smiling Chinese, Thai, Japanese salespeople behind the salesbooth to help you unload your cash.
Many western
package tourists and some expatriates with their kids walked around in tooth grinding colours wearing snow-white sneakers and plump shorts, exposing their red skin like a trophy while carrying incredibly bulky fanny
packs looking like they've stuffed all their belongings in there. Certainly not the kind of people who go for a hands in the dirt trip through the desert, but more likely to spend their time on the beach frying in
the sun like sausages in hot oil.
Entering the boarding room of our flight to Sanaa completely changed the scenery. The people waiting there were dressed like the Bedouin we've met in the Jordan and Syrian
desert. Wearing dusty worn shoes, their Arabic clothes a bit stained and checkered cloths wrapped around their heads in all sorts of styles. They looked at us with weather beaten faces smiling like there was some
sort of understanding between us and them. We felt more at ease in this room than at the whole airport of Dubai.
Together with one other foreigner we boarded our plane to Sanaa in a small crowd of Yemeni
people. During the 2 hours flight we noticed that many Yemeni people talked to each other almost yelling through the body of the plane. We realised that this would almost never happen on a flight filled with western
people. On western flights we sit silently minding our own business, sometimes wondering where the other passengers might be going or hoping the moaning of the child on the lap of desperate parents behind us will
stop. The first signs of entering a completely different world emerged and we started to look forward to meeting Yemen.
The moment the door of the plane opened at Sanaa International Airport we immediately
smelled the sharp scent of wood fires in the cold air. Flashbacks of Nepal quickly rushed through our minds, reliving the Annapurna trek. Walking down the stairs we saw the glow of the sunrise behind the horizon
enlightening the dry rocky landscape of Sannaa. Being transported by a 2nd hand airport bus with Portuguese numberplates to the arrival hall, the Yemeni people where visibly excited of being home again.
In
the arrival hall we first had to obtain our visa. Through small hand cut holes in a window we got our 70 US$ visa after having paid the amount to another guy carrying a small briefcase packed with money. The border
officials were incredibly kind, the kindest people we've ever met at any border. As the last people in line they welcomed us in Yemen and happily stamped our fresh Visa while wishing us good luck on our trip.
The baggage claim area was almost empty and suddenly we feared having arrived without our backpacks. Somewhere in a corner we found the backpacks in their plump army sacks fully blended in with the weary dusty
environment. We could leave the baggage claim area without a full inside out check of our stuff. The official just marked our bags with some chalk, including our small plastic bag from the Dubai shopping area.
Standing in the arrival hall we looked for a taxi to Sultan Palace Hotel. The first quotes we got where a bit on the high side (20-30 US$). Negotiating the normal price (about 10US$) didn't help at first.
However outside the terminal we negotiated a ride for 1500 Rials (9-10US$) which is a fair price considering the time of night.
In a worn down Peugeot stationcar we were rushed through the centre of Sanaa bashing
speedbumps and military checkpoints. The few military out there looked really really cold with their heads almost completely wrapped in checkered 'Arafat' cloths. At first glance they looked like roadside
robbers wearing heavy automatic weapons, ready to pump their bullets through us. A sight that probably would scare the hell out of 'first timers' in the Middle East, but to us it was a deja-vue of the military
shows-offs we've seen in Syria, Iran and the Kurdish region of Turkey. Somehow we got used to seeing this, but again we'll never think about these military show-offs as a normal thing.
Driving through the
small streets of the old city centre we got the feeling our driver didn't exactly know where our Hotel was located. Stopping at two different hotels we managed to explain that we had a reservation at the Sultan
Palace Hotel. This because our driver sort of tried to indicate that other Hotels would also be fine.
At some point we got out of the car and walked through a narrow and dark street in an attempt to find our
Hotel. During the walk we encountered a few locals on their way to the mosque, and to our surprise a western looking woman walked with them. Of course we asked if she knew the Hotel, even suspecting it might as well
be non-existent. But to astonishment she pointed out that we were real close and explained to our driver in Arabic how to drive. Five minutes later we were banging on the doors of Sultan Palace.
Again to our
surprise a group of three men opened the door welcoming us warmly at the Hotel. Till then we didn't realise that half the world was already up and preparing for the mosque. 30 minutes later we crashed in our beds
sleeping through the loud calls for prayer from the Mosque a few blocks away. We had arrived in Yemen and the first two hours already felt like an adventure, a very pleasant one with friendly people welcoming us to
their country.
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