I first came to know of the Socotra island when I was in school. A brilliant TV commercial featuring the magnificent blood dragon tree, which is found only in Socotra made my jaw drop and I wanted to visit the island just to see that alien-looking plant. The image and the mysterious island never left my mind and more than a decade later in 2016, when a locale hunt took me to Socotra, I could not believe my luck. The opportunity which seemed too good to be true completely taken me by surprise and I rushed headlong into digging out Socotra island information. Internet, however, yielded very few results, and apart from a glaring TRAVEL ADVISORY on Yemen, I hardly found anything that was usable. It took a year from the day of getting the project to the actual travel date and the last traveler review of the island was dated 2010. Travel help arrived in the form of an ex-colleague, who is an avid angler. Being a commercial airline pilot, he has the opportunity to travel to the remotest corners of the earth, and his photo series of Socotra on a social media site caught my attention. He got me connected with his local Socotri friend and before I knew it, I was off to one of the most isolated islands on earth.

Socotra island is called the Galapagos of the Indian Ocean

Socotra island is isolation personified

Socotra island is isolation personified. Cut off from the Yemeni mainland and located close to the Horn of Africa, this archipelago of four islands is termed as the “most alien-looking place on earth”. Technically it belongs to the small Arabian nation of Yemen, but its language, culture, lifestyle, food habits, and demography differ completely from the mainland. Often referred to as the “Galapagos of the Indian Ocean”, this hard to access island houses some of the world’s rarest flora, which is not found anywhere else on earth. In fact, a third of the island’s incredible plants are endemic and this has lead to Socotra island being designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. At the time of my visit, Yemen was undergoing civil unrest and the entire government collapsed during my stay. The mainland quickly became a big political mess and I flew to Socotra island before to escape the situation. At that time, I had no idea how things would evolve and for me, the Socotra dream was finally coming true.

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A lonely Bedouin woman of Socotra

Ancient Gujarati mariners called it the “island of bliss”

Socotra at that time was accessed only by flight and only two airlines, Felix Airways and Yemenia flew there.  The flight to Socotra went via the arid coastal town of Mukalla and it is a brief journey from the Sanaa. The stark differences between the island and the mainland were clear the moment I landed at the brand new airport. Socotra island nestled in a cocoon of peace and normalcy and it was free from any restrictions and void of any signs of unrest. Socotris also looked completely different from the Arab Yemenis and they had a unique mix of Indians, Malays, and African features. Interestingly, that is not the only Indian connection of Socotra and for centuries, the sailors of Gujarat in India called the maritime route near Socotra, “Sikotro Sinh” or the “Roaring Lion of Socotra”. Many historians believe that the island had got its name from a Sanskrit word “dvipasukhdhara” meaning “island providing bliss”.

This is the island of precious herbs and plants

The island of frankincense and myrrh

However, it is the Arabic translation of its name (souq = market, quotra = dripping frankincense) that brings out Socotra’s real glory and that is the island’s abundance of frankincense, myrrh, and other valuable herbal products. In fact, frankincense and myrrh had put Socotra island firmly on ancient maritime charts ad Socotri folk tales recount bygone days when the island was a huge hub for traders, sailors, and pirates. Human evidence in Socotra island was traced to prehistoric times and inside one of the island’s huge limestone cave, multilingual inscriptions were found. From Indian Brahmi, Greek, Bactrian, Ethiopian to South Arabian languages, those scribbles were left by sailors who visited the island between 1st century BC to 6th century AD, and thus, it is not difficult to understand why Socotra was called the frankincense souq.

Recommended Read: MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA

This island seems to be frozen in time

Socotra island has a frozen in time quality

In modern times, only the Somalian pirates used the island as a refueling stop for hijacked vessels and all this weighed on my mind, as my rental 4 * 4 navigated out of the tiny airport area into Socotra’s vast open sunshine. A straight road went towards the main town of Hadibo and it was the only road on Socotra island. The first thing which struck me about Socotra was its uncluttered open space. The island had a misty cluster of highlands in the center and the blue ocean bordered the road, as it went past the date palm plantations and ancient-looking stone villages. It also had an almost unreal “frozen in time” quality and the simplicity of the islanders’ lifestyle is hard to believe. I stayed on the island for some time and Socotra mesmerized me every single day. Although it was the blood dragon tree, which drew me to the island, Socotra’s spectacular beaches, shifting sand dunes, massive yawning caves, open rolling meadows, and mist-shrouded blue peaks got me wanting for more. The biggest shock and delight was its utter isolation and it was hard to believe that in 2016, there existed a beach, a mountain, a stream, an island on earth, which most of the time, belonged solely to me. The isolation, however, came at a price, and the biggest challenge I faced on the Socotra island was to fight through the shroud of carefully cultivated lack of information about the island and the horrible tourism monopoly which exists there. During my trip, I had to unravel too many disheartening “Why’s, Where’s and How’s” and Socotra at times, pushed my endurance limit to the fullest.

The blood dragon tree of Socotra Island

The blood dragon tree of Socotra island

From sleeping in caves, calling a car home for days, going without a shower, proper food, battling harsh conditions, lack of hygiene, etc, my Socotra island stay tough on the body and easy on the soul. Nothing felt more gut-wrenching than to navigate through the litter choked lanes of its main town of Hadibo and it was equally heavenly to explore Socotra’s gold drenched sunsets, sugar-white beaches, and soft aquamarine water. While the island’s ugly mercenary system of haggling wore me down, I used to regain my life energy by simply hugging the timeless gnarly branches of blood dragon trees. Never before had nature touched me so deeply and I had never so happily detached than in Socotra. Nothing feels better than touching your dream or see it come true and touching or hugging the island’s blood dragon trees always uplifted my soul. There was something about them as they stood on the ancient mysterious cliffs, looking weathered, wise, and yet vital. At times, I spoke to them in whispers, sure that they take it in and I had a lot going on at that time. As crazy as it sounds, in retrospect, I am glad that I spent so much time being a tree-hugger on Socotra island because as a friend of mine said recently, “You do not know when the island will open up for the world again”.

Empty beaches of Omak

The vast sand dunes

Gorgeous lagoons

Timeless wadis

And solitude,

This is Socotra,

The island with just one road.

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE

“You will be staying at the Taj of Socotra”, beamed my affable guide to me. We were out of the tiny airport and driving towards Hadibo, the main town of the island. “You must be knowing the Taj..you are from India”. Anwar’s proud words made start dreaming of a comfortable BnB sort of place; nothing fancy, but something cozy with beach access, some hammocks, and a garden, perhaps. After all, the entire island was more than half empty and my expectations seemed just natural. The reality hit hard when Hadibo arrived with generous piles of trash and the Taj of Socotra or the Taj Socotra shattered all my dreams of a comfortable stay. My room overlooked the market, so I could hear, smell, and see the buyers, sellers, and the trash at any given time. The shared bathroom that was located at one end of the corridor perpetually looked into someone’s courtyard and one had to precariously position themselves on the privy to guard the door since the lock was broken. The half-torn curtain brought in wafts of cold air from the mountains and the tap had a mug chained to it. Taj Socotra, however, had moody wifi, an in-room TV that played Bollywood soaps dubbed in Amharic (the national language of Ethiopia), and from my balcony, I could see the blue strip of the ocean.

Hadibo is the capital town of Socotra

My dashed hotel dreams at the Taj Socotra

The hotel breakfast consisted of locally made bread, cucumber, and tuna sauce, and lunch and dinner were also the same. Hadibo, despite being the main town of Socotra island did not offer much tourist infrastructure and the other Summerland hotel was a more concrete version of the Taj Socotra, albeit with higher rates. While the Taj Socotra cost 50 USD per night, the Summerland charged around 190 USD for the same facilities. Quite understandably, most of the islanders did not eat outside and the rich people of Socotra lived in large date plantation estates, had open kitchens in their courtyards, and roasted several whole goats when entertaining guests. Men and women were segregated and there was no alcohol available on the island. There were plenty of cigarettes available and most Socotris were addicted to smoking, fancy mobiles, and Bollywood.

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View from my room balcony at Hadibo

Hadibo is a one road capital city

To call Hadibo a town would be a joke, however, it was indeed the biggest populated space in that otherwise pristine island. It had about 100 houses, one main road, and around 15 shops that sold whatever arrived by flight or boats. The town stood at the base of the stunning Hagghier mountain and Socotra’s biggest shops lined the main asphalt road.  These shops sold everything required for modern human sustenance: make-up, electronic goods, blankets, furnishings, utensils, groceries, ladies’ fashion, wild bees’ honey, canned tuna, mobile batteries, and tours. Hadibo also held a weekly market in the square and every Saturday, the little bazaar would get crowded with buyers and sellers jostling for space with old Socotri men drinking endless cups of tea, Bedouin ladies selling natural henna, coops of hens and lots and lots of goats.

Recommended Read: MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA

Socotra has only one road

The biggest town was an urban mess

The island was overrun with bleating, nimble-footed skippy creatures, and there were more goats than humans in Socotra. Apart from the goats, old tea-sipping old men, and Bedouin women, Hadibo had three short alleys, two kiosks that primarily sold candies and cigarettes, and the whole place was badly trashed. In the mornings, hawkers peddled fish, crabs, fruits, pottery, and vegetables from open baskets and the mountain Bedouins left the coast leaving trails of litter. Big, yellow Egyptian vultures swooped over garbage piles, and during my stay, I learned that these birds were named Socotra Municipality in jest. Endangered in most parts of the world, Egyptian Vultures were strangely plentiful in Socotra and they fed on the massive waste that the island produced every day. Thus, I began my Socotra adventure in the main town of Hadibo and it was a place where I escaped from as quickly as possible. My favourite place to go from Hadibo was Delisha Beach and I enjoyed the beautiful sunsets there.

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The pristine Delisha beach near Hadibo

The daily escapes from Hadibo

Delisha had been just a 30 minutes drive from Hadibo and most Socotra visitors begin their trip from there. It is like a small sneak peek of what is to follow and the preview itself is spectacular enough to get anybody hooked to the island for good. Socotra’s only road looped along the blue sea, past Hadibo lagoon, small boat sheds, and ramshackle hutments before reaching the broad Delisha Beach. The beach was beautiful with a small green crab filled lagoon, solitary powder white sand dune, and glistening pink sand. Seabirds swooped in and out of the crashing waves and it seemed surreal to spot only my footsteps being traced all along the entire beach. Trash left it’s ugly marks there too and Delisha indeed was the apt preview of what Socotra encompassed; sharp contrast between urban mess and natural beauty all packed in one of the remotest places on earth.

A Bedouin woman of Socotra

The pink-white sand of Delisha beach

Some beautiful shells

Seen at the Delisha beach.

To Delisha, my escape spot from Hadibo.

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE

Wadi Dirhur was a strange-looking peaceful place. We reached there by driving along Socotra’s only road through the Diksam Plateau and it was wonderfully empty drive. Diksam Plateau looked out of this world and apart from alien-looking plants, no signs of life were visible for miles. I had never before experienced a place so isolated and to my imaginative mind, it seemed like a post-nuclear aftermath world. The craggy granite mountains stretched in rows as far as eyes could see and amidst their deep folds and grooves stood bristly the shadows of the blood dragon trees. For some reason, these grand trees nearly always seemed to stand apart from the crowd. At some spots, though they grew like scrubby forests and created funny circular shadows on the rough rose coloured gravel at their feet.

Socotra has only one road

The hidden valley of Wadi Dirhur

Hardly any Bedouin villages could be seen at the Diksam Plateau and the blazing sun made the shepherds rest in cool flowery shades. At one point, a dirt track bifurcated away from the road, and Anwar drove headlong on it until he stopped at a precipice. Gorgeous Wadi Dirhur spread below like a mirage and from our bird’s eye viewpoint, it looked like a hidden world. A lovely slender stream ran through the valley and it sparkled like jewels in the bright afternoon heat. A short, steep downhill drive took us to the canyon and the world seemed more and more unfamiliar as we went downhill. Dry, harsh land peeped underneath white ghostly Cucumber Trees and potbellied Desert Roses bloomed like grotesque pantomime dancers.

A desert rose tree in Wadi Dirhur

The alien-looking trees of Socotra

Apart from being an alien-looking place, Socotra is also a terribly harsh environment to survive. The island is sunburnt and windswept and drought-like dry conditions pervade all areas. Some areas are particularly more arid than the rest and the island’s flora has adapted to its conditions in the most unique ways. When Sting had sung the sultry notes of the song “Desert Rose”, I am sure a squat, rather ugly looking tree with a swollen belly had not been on his mind and Socotra’s Adenium Obesum is as much a rose, as I am an elephant. Although these funny trees are found in some parts of the Arabian mainland and Africa, the ones in Socotra bulge larger than their African counterparts. They have wonderfully adapted themselves to Socotra’s harsh aridity and use their distorted, bloated trunks to store precious water. They supposedly do not require soil and their unique shapes are their means of anchoring on rocks, on which they grow. The desert roses bloomed earlier that year and the hard, brown monotony of the canyon was dappled with their pink blossoms.

A massive cucumber tree of Socotra

Desert roses and cucumber trees of Wadi Dirhur

Wadi Dirhur arrived in a steep gradient and in spite of my seat belt, my back got brutally jolted during the entire ride. Dry scrub forests provided shade in the valley/wadi where apart from Anwar, I was the only human. It was completely silent and the afternoon heat stifled the breeze that blew in from the stream. The little green brook was a sheer utter delight and I scrambled into its crystal clear water for a refreshing swim. The colour of the water was emerald green and it was free from any algae, oiliness, and muck. Date palms bordered it in lush forests and smooth golden pink rocks created beautiful natural stepping stones. The canyon walls rose steeply along the shallow stream and desert rose and cucumber trees covered the slopes in profusion. Their white ghostly trunks stood out in the harsh sun and I could locate cucumbers growing under their floppy thatch of green leaves. The cool, watery garden vegetable, which is usually found dangling from vines in every other place on earth, takes a whole new shape and size in Socotra and they are as alien-looking as the desert rose.

The green clear stream of Wadi Dirhur

The feeling of being alone in nature

Happily isolated and with the treasure of time on my hands, I the beauty of Wadi Dirhur to the fullest. I swam in the stream, sunned on the palm-shaded stones, and spent my time spotting different coloured crabs among the fishes in the stream. It was paradisaical and apart from Anwar, who was cooking lunch, further downstream, the gorgeous canyon was completely mine. Large yellow Egyptian vultures stared at me from their rocky nests and all-around desert rose trees bloomed in profusion. Now, I am a bit of a tree hugger and Socotra’s unique flora had made go a bit bonkers. I hugged as many rarest of the rare trees in the world as possible, knowing that I may never return there again.

One of the goats brought by the locals

And then came the happy picnickers

It was at lunch when a group of local Socotris came trudging down the slopes of Wadi Dirhur. A well-known picnic spot for the locals and visiting expat Socotrans, Wadi Dirhur in some places were scattered with hooves, horns, and discarded goat skins. Picnic is a very popular activity among the islanders and they usually include barbecuing freshly slaughtered goat meat, eating rice pulao (rice dish speckled with dry fruits and spices), drinking umpteen cups of tea and gossiping. Socotrans love gossiping and they huddle for juicy conversations at tea shops, at dinners/lunches at someone’s house, in the middle of the road, and on carpeted date palm groves on the island’s hidden wadis. The locals picnic in big groups, carry sumptuous lunch baskets (and personal chefs), and buy the festive meat from the small Bedouin villages. That was why perhaps I had spotted a few nomadic settlements in the initial part of our drive and why the Bedouins always ran up at the sight of a passing car. When I say, nomadic settlement, I mean it in the Socotran standard and that includes a maximum number of 4-5 houses/ families and maybe a couple living in caves with their 2-3 dozen goats and cows.

It is not too difficult to lose your time here

Losing time in Wadi Dirhur

The island’s biggest attraction was its isolation and at times, I pinched myself into believing that such a place still existed on earth in 2016. By the end of the Wadi Dirhur day, we were the only humans staying at the canyon and Anwar rustled up a cook dinner before it became dark. Dinner came from an assortment of tuna cans and tomato sauce jars, and food was definitely the biggest let down of Socotra. Dusk fell fast dinner and Wadi Dirhur got engulfed in complete darkness. Stars burst open in the vast inky sky like massive diamonds and silence descended like heavy sleep. We spread out our mattresses under the broad strip of the Milky Way and the only sound of the night was of our own breathing. The entire canyon seemed strangely devoid of any nocturnal creature and no buzzing of crickets, flapping wings of bats, or hooting calls of owls broken the dark heavy silence. Time got lost there; slipped through the crevices of the canyon and wandered off in the night and that was one of most liberating sensations of my life. Being controlled by our watch, we forget how easy it is to unwind and it is only when we lose time, that the real relaxation sets in. Time has no meaning when cocooned in the dark in the midst of an empty canyon on one of the most remote places in the world, and so I slept in a timeless, deep slumber among the canyon, stars, and desert roses of Socotra.

The beautiful desert rose flowers

Dusk falling in the canyon

The rare and big Egyptian vultures

Would you like to get lost in a place like this?

This was my travel dream come true

Follow the rest of the Yemen series here

• YEMEN CRISIS AND MEMORIES OF OLD SANAA
• MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA
• HOW I ENDED UP ON THE SOCOTRA ISLAND
• HADIBO AND URBANIZATION OF SOCOTRA
• THE MOUNTAIN BEDOUINS OF SOCOTRA

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE

Our next stop after the beautiful Wadi Dirhur canyon was the massive Dogub cave. It was a couple of hours’ drive away from the canyon and we started early before the day got too hot. Socotra as I mentioned before, despite being drop-dead gorgeous, is a harsh place and blazing sun and strong winds make it a hostile environment. Dogub cave was located in the southern part of the island and though not as spectacular as Hoq, Anwar guaranteed that it was a very unique place. I did not disbelieve even once since Socotra island has a very interesting and complex cave network. In the past, many archaeological finds have been discovered in the bigger caves and these were telltale remnants of prehistoric humans to ancient sailors’ scribbles.

The drive to Nogid

Dogub Cave in Nogid

Dogub cave was in an area called Nogid and it was dry, red, and inhospitable. At the time of my visit, Nogid had recently received an asphalt road, and Socotra’s only highway connected it with the rest of the island. Huge rocky hills bordered the arid plains of Nogid and a beautiful blue ocean lay on its other side. Dazzling white sand dunes rolled along the coastline and in comparison, the rest of the area looked sparse with dry, leafless, scrubby bushes. Camels roamed Nogid plains in herds and only a few human settlements were scattered along the vast expanse. We were again close to the sea, with the cool highlands left behind, and most of the time of the year, harsh winds blew into Nogid.

The dry arid plains of Nogid

The dry arid plains of Nogid

Nogid was Anwar’s favourite place in Socotra and he simply loved the dry, inhospitable looking landscape of the south. The drive from Diksam Plateau to Doub cave was a very interesting one and the scenery changed rapidly as we neared the ocean. The mountain slopes slowly slanted down to plains that held dry river beds and sheets of grey lava rocks rocky slopes held swollen trunks of the desert rose trees. These grotesquely shaped flowering trees grew in neat rows as if in a plantation and a few small caves hidden behind them held actual homes. Small pieces of cloth strung at the mouth of the caves served as curtains and behind their privacy, standalone families with their entire herd of animals lived.

The desert rose trees of Nogid

The massive shelter of Dogub cave

The most beautiful part of Nogid was its stunning rock formations and Dogub Cave was a yawning hole in one of them. The access to the cave had been fairly easy and the size of the cave took me by surprise. Picturesquely twisted stalagmites guarded the mouth of the cave and the sweeping interior was large enough to hold at least 20 cars. Several small chambers bifurcated inside the cave and dripping thin streams created small natural wells of fresh water. This was a very precious commodity in Socotra and the water streams of Dogub cave attracted many herders, animals, and birds. A severe bat stench also pervaded the interior of the cave and as usual, I shared my mattress and lunch with many inquisitive goats, a lonely sheepdog, and a bunch of curious locals.

The second day at Zahak

Leaving for Zahak

As much as I liked Dogub cave, the bat stench along with some suspicious “turdy” looking things in its background appalled me a lot and I could not wait to get out of there. Our destination for that day was Zahak, an area known for its beautiful snowy white sand dunes and I was very eager to see them in daylight. Massive mountain-sized shifting sand dunes are one of the highlights of Socotra and these mounds shifted in position and size according to the island’s inland winds.

My last sight of Diksam Plateau

A Bedouin hut at Wadi Dirhur

The desert rose tree near Wadi Dirhur

The island gets drier towards Nogid

The stony mountains of Nogid

The dry part of Socotra

The ocean appears as we leave the central highlands

The beautiful Arabian Sea

The rolling dunes of Zahak

Socotra is all about beautiful falling light

Follow the rest of the Yemen series here

• YEMEN CRISIS AND MEMORIES OF OLD SANAA
• MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA
• HOW I ENDED UP ON THE SOCOTRA ISLAND
• HADIBO AND URBANIZATION OF SOCOTRA
• THE MOUNTAIN BEDOUINS OF SOCOTRA
• LOSING TIME IN WADI DIRHUR

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE

We left Omak in a cloud of dust, bumped over the edgy road, and rattled our bones towards Qadama till they felt brittle. Nogid was having a blazing hot day and I wanted to escape the heat before it became unbearable. Our next stop was Qalanciya, which was on the opposite end of the island. Located in northwest Socotra, Qalanciya was more than three hours drive and it was also the island’s second-largest town. It was famous for having one of the most spectacular beaches and after my bland Omak experience, I was excited about exploring another part of the island. The road retraced a part of our initial journey all the way near Hadibo and once again, I gaped at Socotra’s central highland’s captivating beauty. It was a sunny, windy day and the lonely, vast valleys and canyons were deathly still. No goats rushed in front of our car, no Bedouin lady stood out to peddle goat hair ropes and the valley’s wildflower petals tugged out by the wind, floated in the air like handfuls of mad butterflies. Stone houses, devoid of any life movements stood like remnants of abandoned human habitats and frankincense trees perched on stony cliffs. One of the three precious Gifts of Magi, frankincense can be traced back to pre Biblical times.

The straight road to Qalanciya

Qadama to Qalanciya

In Socotra, although the frankincense trees are found in lush abundance around the Homhil Plateau, we passed a few stray ones on our way to Qalanciya. To help me enjoy its perfume to the fullest, Anwar lit a small twig inside the car, and immediately a softest, heady aroma engulfed us like a cloud. After leaving the arid rocky reds of Nogid, we drove non stop until Qadama appeared. The desolate area arrived immediately upon descending from Diksam and it was a pit stop between Hadibo, the main town, and nearly every other part of Socotra. Qadama features a long coastline, stunning, desolate plains, shadowy mountains, and one of the island’s only two gas stations. A few lagoons lay scattered along the way and the island’s camels, goats, and humans showed up here and there. Salt production workers looked busy loading blocks of sea salt on their battered old trucks while fishermen cast their nets in the lagoons. Blue-green in colour, the lagoons were filled with catfishes, barnacles, and big red crabs. Small fishing villages dotted the beach and colourful boats bobbed on deep blue water.

Qadama coastline

This is Qalanciya, a stark difference from Qadama

The sight was a sharp contrast with Nogid’s emptiness and Qadama’s afternoon showed the signs of human activity. The sun was at its peak, by the time we passed through Qadama and sometime around three, Qalanciya appeared. It is Socotra’s 2nd largest town and needless to say, heavily littered. Apart from a brand new hospital, Qalanciya seemed like a smaller, dirtier version of Hadibo. Stone houses stood in rows on dusty unpaved lanes and a brand new village mosque featured on the main square. Date plantations circled the houses of the wealthier like gardens and rubbish heaps drew the Egyptian vultures. We passed through Socotra without stopping and speeded dangerously until Anwar screeched the car to a halt. Urging me to get out, he stared into the distance holding his expansive arms in a dramatic pose and pointed out with a silent smug smile, the absolutely stunning Detwa Lagoon beach of Qalanciya. White, translucent blue and completely empty, it was breathtaking and I was to camp there on a beach hut for a few days.

Somewhere in Qadama

Socotra’s second-largest town has 20 houses

My Qalanciya days can be broadly divided into two parts: the unbelievable beauty of the place and the unimaginable warmth of the people of the little fishing town. Although Qalanciya is officially Socotra’s second-largest town, in reality, it had in 2016, about 15-20 houses, a mosque, a school, and a brand new hospital. Rocky mountains divided Qalanciya into the isolated Detwa Lagoon and the littered, humming fishing village community and the residents of the two usually did not cross over into each other’s territories. While traditional fishermen and date farmers lived in the village, the Detwa Lagoon was more of the tourist’s zone. Beach huts lined the crescent-shaped lagoon and apart from occasional gawking, villagers always respected the privacy of the holidaymakers.

The Detwa Lagoon of Qalanciya

The gorgeous Detwa Lagoon of Qalanciya

Detwa was a gorgeous blue-green shallow lagoon which reduced and increased with tides and craggy amber coloured mountains circled the water body. Sharp, sculpted with a beautiful glistening coat of sand, the mountains were simply spectacular. They seemed to change colours depending on the time of the day and cloud cover made them look like something out of the world. Several caves ringed along the circular sugary mountains and these housed several interesting characters and stories. One of them was Abdullah, a friendly wiry fisherman whom I met immediately upon reaching Qalanciya and till today I am conflicted whether it was his offer to cook calamari for me, his outrageously entertaining lies, or his happy, infectious smile, that made me his fan.

We left the arid Nogid in the morning.

The long straight road to Qalanciya

Was mostly empty of traffic.

Qadama was one vast empty space.

Diksam Plateau with its

Frankincense forests

Came and went in a flash.

Qadama stretched along the long coastline

Where lagoons held crabs and cuttlefish,

And salt workers camped

beside the lagoons and date plantations,

This was my first view of Detwa Lagoon.

The sugar-white sand coated mountains

And vast stretches of snowy white sandy beach.

This is Detwa Lagoon of Qalanciya.

Follow the rest of the Yemen series here

• YEMEN CRISIS AND MEMORIES OF OLD SANAA
• MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA
• HOW I ENDED UP ON THE SOCOTRA ISLAND
• HADIBO AND URBANIZATION OF SOCOTRA
• THE MOUNTAIN BEDOUINS OF SOCOTRA
• LOSING TIME IN WADI DIRHUR
• CAVE ESCAPADE IN SOCOTRA
• THE SHIFTING SAND DUNES OF ZAHAK
• GETTING BURIED IN SAND IN OMAK

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE

The amber hunter of Detwa Lagoon! My Qalanciya days can be broadly divided into two parts: the unbelievable beauty of the place and the unimaginable warmth of the people of the little fishing town. Although Qalanciya is officially Socotra’s second-largest town, in reality, it has about 15-20 houses, a mosque, a school, and a brand new hospital. Rocky mountains divide Qalanciya into the isolated Detwa Lagoon and the littered, humming fishing village community and the residents of the two usually did not cross over into each other’s territories. While traditional fishermen and date farmers lived in the village, the Detwa Lagoon was more of the tourist’s zone. Beach huts lined the crescent-shaped lagoon and apart from occasional gawking, villagers respected the privacy of the holidaymakers, though except for me there was no other person on the lagoon.

The beautiful colours of Detwa Lagoon

The gorgeous Detwa Lagoon

Detwa Lagoon was a gorgeous blue-green shallow lagoon that reduced and increased with tides. Craggy amber coloured mountains circled the water body. Sharp, sculpted with a beautifully glistening coat of sand, the mountains were spectacular and I could never enough of their beauty. They seemed to change colours depending on the time of the day and cloud cover made them look surreal. Several caves ringed along the sand coated mountains and they contained several interesting characters and stories. One of them was Abdullah, a friendly wiry fisherman whom I met immediately upon reaching Detwa Lagoon and till today I am conflicted whether it was his offer to cook calamari for me, his entertainingly outrageous lies or his happy, infectious smile, which made me his fan.

My basic camp at Detwa Lagoon

Basic comfort amid the Detwa Lagoon beauty

Beach huts of Detwa Lagoon were equipped with absolutely basic modern comforts. These were four postered thatched structures that allowed an unhindered view of the lagoon and freshest sea breeze throughout the day. There were no doors, attached bathrooms, or toilets, but at night it felt better to go to sleep without the fear of getting buried under shifting sand. Rudimentary bathrooms and toilets stood at a distance and they were concrete four walls that enclosed a squat toilet and a showerhead positioned right over the hole. An attached water tank made the unit functioning and I kept mine jealously secured with lock and key. My folding mattress consisted of my only piece of furniture and in the evening, a portable electric lantern (along with an extended electricity connection) made things comfortable. Only the kitchen posed to be a problem and the biggest irk was the dual task of flapping away thieving Egyptian Vultures while cooking. Our small camp stove was very much used at Detwa Lagoon and Anwar and I experimented with many seafood dishes there. While Anwar’s trials were positively tasty, most of mine were of questionable taste, look, and odour.

The locals look for cuttlefish when the tide goes back

When Abdullah came to the rescue

Needless to say, it was my culinary skill, rather the severe lack of it, which drew Abdullah to my beach hut. I was trying to cook the lobsters that we bought in Omak and he came rushing to save the sacrificial crustaceans with a disapproving loud “tsk tsk”. Abdullah grabbed them from my hand before I massacred their edibility for good. As expected, it was my Hind (read Bollywood) connection which made him shower me with a huge sunny smile and after that, we were fast friends. He was so enchanted by my squeaky renditions of popular Hindi songs that he sealed our friendship by cooking us big, slippery calamari which he had freshly plucked out of the lagoon. Thus begun my Qalanciya sojourn, with Abdullah, Detwa lagoon, hiking the sugary sculpted mountains every morning and at night getting lulled to sleep, without the fear of being buried alive.

The stunning Detwa Lagoon

Abdullah, the amber hunter of Detwa Lagoon

Abdullah was a fantastic character. An expert storyteller, he loved fishing, hogging the limelight and regaling people with his notorious, and a bit embellished tales. According to him, he once discovered amber inside the belly of a beached whale and sold it for a fortune. With the sudden downpour of wealth, he chased women, lived the life of a high roller, drank, dined, and in general had a pretty good time. For his family, he built a concrete, comfortable house and sent his father for the annual Mecca pilgrimage to purge his sins, in his place. He bragged about his various ex-girlfriends, while cooking our lunch and how they disappeared after his fortune went bust. A dreamy smile played on his lips as he reminisced of his erstwhile days of wealth and he confirmed that they were all nice, vivacious ladies. It was around four in the evening of my first day at Detwa Lagoon when Abdullah spun his outrageous stories and I listened to him in dazed hunger.

The beach with the ebbing tide

The colourful imagination of Abdullah

Post lunch, I mentally credited his stories to vivid imagination when Anwar suggested a small hike to Abdullah’s cave. As atrocious as his stories of wealth had been, the reason behind his forced exile to the cave was even more hilarious. The little Qalanciya fisherman apparently was sentenced to spending some parts of his time in the cave after his wife lodged a civil complaint against him. The poor, overburdened woman had borne him six children, and Abdullah, who aimed at having a perfect dozen, refused to listen to her objections. In the end, the harassed, good lady sought the local village council’s help, and thus Abdullah was barred from having any more children. It was a hot Detwa lagoon afternoon when a post-lunch drowsy me and Anwar hiked up to the cave and I unwillingly dragged my heavy feet behind the two Socotra men.

A local fisherman looking for calamari in Detwa Lagoon

Reality vs Imagination of Detwa Lagoon

By then, I liked the lovable fisherman enough to not harbour any intention of finding out the truth behind his stories and a nice siesta tempted me wildly. Abdullah’s cave arrived at the mouth of the Detwa lagoon and the yawning entrance totally blew my mind. Decorated with a huge whale jaw bone and pair of massive ribs, the cave housed all the telltale remnants of his fantastic adventure and I slumped down on the turtle shell stool in open-mouthed amazement. There’s more to what meets the eyes and Abdullah of Detwa Lagoon certainly was the epitome of it.

This is one

Of the most beautiful

Places of Socotra

And certainly,

The most gorgeous places

I have ever seen

In my life.

Follow the rest of the Yemen series here

• YEMEN CRISIS AND MEMORIES OF OLD SANAA
• MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA
• HOW I ENDED UP ON THE SOCOTRA ISLAND
• HADIBO AND URBANIZATION OF SOCOTRA
• THE MOUNTAIN BEDOUINS OF SOCOTRA
• LOSING TIME IN WADI DIRHUR
• CAVE ESCAPADE IN SOCOTRA
• THE SHIFTING SAND DUNES OF ZAHAK
• GETTING BURIED IN SAND IN OMAK
• DRIVING FROM QADAMA TO QALANCIYA
• The amber hunter

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE

I left Qalanciya with a heavy heart. Our destination was the Moumi Plateau. Qalanciya was such a perfect place. We drive towards Hadibo again. Homhil, Di Hamri, Arhar, etc were yet to be explored and I missed out visiting on the spotlessly white Shoab Beach. Accessible only by a short boat ride, Shoab Beach is famous for dazzling white sand, azure blue water, and a ring of cucumber trees which grow along its sea-facing cliffs. Only two or three fishermen live on that beach and a jutting headland makes driving/walking over to it nearly impossible. The water around Shoab is supposedly teeming with marine life and loggerhead turtles and playful dolphins fearlessly come close to the swimmers.

The dry part of Socotra

Heading over to Moumi Plateau

As tempting as it sounds, for a solo traveler, a return boat trip to Shoab cost around 200 USD, and unfortunately, at that time, being the only tourist in Qalanciya, I had no one to share that cost with. Thus I spent my last Qalanciya day with my friends and the evening especially was pretty eventful. By a stroke of good luck, it was Abdullah’s eldest daughter’s engagement ceremony and I was invited over to his house to join the celebrations. I got along very well with Abdullah’s wife and her brood, and the eldest daughter was my favourite. So while not totally unexpected, the invitation was touching and I spent the day with the family, participating in all the auspicious rituals. The hard-working Socotran ladies in the privacy of gender segregation enjoyed henna painting, singing, dancing, and making horrendously lewd jokes, while their men sat in another room smoking, feasting, and discussing Yemen’ political situation and fishing woes. The next day, we left for Moumi Plateau at dawn and it was another peaceful early morning in Socotra.

Socotra at dawn

The dawn drive to Moumi Plateau

In the silvery morning light, a quietly smoking Anwar drove in peace and we picked and dropped his fellow islander en route. Transportation was a major problem in Socotra and the residents had to wait for hours by the highway to travel even to the next village. Hitchhikers dotted the Socotri road, just like it’s other omnipresent sights and we always helped them as long we had space. A grey, cloudy day welcomed me to Hadibo where familiar sights, sounds, and chaos once again choked my senses. A fine rain thankfully smothered the rising dust and the looming Hagghar mountains looked nearly indigo in the blanketing mists. The heavy, rain pregnant clouds bore down on the tiny city and after a quick breakfast, we sped towards Moumi Plateau. I re-experienced the familiar relieving feeling immediately upon leaving Hadibo and the widespread sunshine in the open areas beyond the capital city was a welcome sight. The weather moodiness was another typical Socotra feature and the rugged topography gave rise to the unique constant play of sun and shade. Anwar, who had drooped into a fatigued silence at Hadibo, brightened up once again we discussed our Moumi Plateau plans excitedly. Our initial plan was to visit Moumi Plateau that day, with a possibility of camping there overnight and the next morning drive over to Arhar Beach.

The Moumi Plateau shepherd village

The vast emptiness of Moumi Plateau

Located on the eastern part of Socotra, Moumi Plateau is a vast rocky limestone area with many hill and plains. The entire area is covered with endemic and rare plants and it was a very scantily inhabited region. Only a few ancient shepherd villages pockmarked those open spaces and there were a few incredibly beautiful lagoons. Keriya was one of them. It was a seasonal one and at the time of my visit, because of the dry weather, only a thin stream emerged from between the deep red canyons. The stone villages and date plantations bordered the water body and a deep blue sea dashed in the distance. For such a small island, Socotra was packed with natural attractions and the eastern part was certainly one of its prettiest areas. Di Hamri Protected Marine Area was on the way and we stopped there for some lunch and snorkeling. The marine park teemed with fishes and the coral reefs were unbroken and spectacular. A whole crowded colourful world existed underneath its glassy water and the warm sun made the experience even more pleasurable. I unwillingly left Di Hamri in a rush and the result was drying my wet clothes on me during the rest of the drive. The air became considerably colder as we went up the hills and plains and by the time Moumi Plateau arrived, I had a slight temperature.

The date plantation harvetor of Socotra

The desert rose forest of Moumi Plateau

Moumi Plateau was very pretty and large tracts of flowering bottle trees were the first sight that met my eyes. A sea of pink flowers ran along a small gorge and a green stream gushed past wild date trees. It was vaguely familiar with Wadi Dirhur with the exception of a small multi-tiered waterfall that tumbled into a green rock pool. The Wadi ran deeper into the folds of the canyon and the steep red rocky slopes were covered with profusely flowering trees. Homhil Protected Area was not been too far and the frankincense, myrrh, and dragon blood trees made their presence felt. Known and popular for its rich bio-diverse flora, overnight camping was not allowed in Homhil and my initial plans to camp there were dashed. Homhil was a stunning place with much endemic fauna, insects, and reptiles and it was one of the prettiest places in Socotra.

The beautiful seasonal lagoon

The realities of remote traveling

Spotting the chameleon (Chamaeleo Monachus), the carnivorous beetles, strange land snails, the bright red freshwater crab (Socotrapotamon socotrensis), etc were on my Homhil list, but my fast-rising feverish feeling made me drop the idea. Soon along with the fever, a raging earache came, I made a very worried Anwar leave Moumi Plateau and rush back to Hadibo for medical attention. By the time we reached the town, it was pouring rain in Hadibo and apart from popping a few Egyptian medicines (with Arabic written instructions on chemicals, date of expiry, etc), prescribed by the local pharmacist, I had no option of any medical help. Anwar bought me a hot plate of food, sat silently as I pushed a few forkfuls in my mouth, handed me the prescribed pills, and tucked me safely at Socotra Taj Hotel. He left for the night soon, with a promise to check up on me at the earliest and I stayed awake throughout the rainy Socotra night in pain. Nothing feels worse than falling sick in a foreign country and in spite of being a paradise island, Socotra was the last place I would have ever liked to get ill.

A local Socotri man in Moumi Plateau

A view on the way to Homhil

A young cucumber tree growing on a rock in Moumi Plateau

Moumi Plateau is beautiful

A grocery store in Socotra

Follow the rest of the Yemen series here

• YEMEN CRISIS AND MEMORIES OF OLD SANAA
• MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA
• HOW I ENDED UP ON THE SOCOTRA ISLAND
• HADIBO AND URBANIZATION OF SOCOTRA
• THE MOUNTAIN BEDOUINS OF SOCOTRA
• LOSING TIME IN WADI DIRHUR
• CAVE ESCAPADE IN SOCOTRA
• THE SHIFTING SAND DUNES OF ZAHAK
• GETTING BURIED IN SAND IN OMAK
• DRIVING FROM QADAMA TO QALANCIYA
• THE AMBER HUNTER OF DETWA LAGOON
• LIVING A BIT OF LOCAL LIFE IN QALANCIYA

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE

My last few days in Socotra Yemen were spent holed up in my Taj Socotra Hotel room. I alternated between feeling horribly sick and homesick. The fever, which started because of a fast spreading ear infection, got diagnosed as malaria and it took a whole bunch of weakening antibiotics to help me feel strong enough to get back home. The medicines gave me delusional thoughts and the confinement of my room nearly driven me mad. Yemen’s and global political situation started making me feel very anxious and I counted days to get back my strength to be able to return to India. Only once, Anwar took me for a drive to the beautiful Arhar Beach and as spectacular as it was, weakness made me enjoy its panorama from the comfort of the car. That enjoyment too was short lived as aching body made me crave for a bed. So we rushed back to Hadibo before the fever became too high. Ill health wrecked havoc in my travel plans and I changed my Socotra-Sanaa-Dubai-Mumbai tickets for a later date. So, technically speaking, although I stayed in Socotra Yemen longer than my original plan, I ended up doing nothing special except being violently sick, sleeping, healing, missing my family and India.

Socotran ladies enjoying a picnic at Arhar Beach

Crisis clouds loom over Socotra Yemen

Yemeni mainland was undergoing rapid political changes during that phase and uncertainty hung like a death pall. I remember TV channels showing repeat telecasts of the small Arab country burning in discontent and my entire sick period was filled with apprehension. The Yemen government fell apart and their entire parliament along with all peripheral ministries also collapsed. Houthis officially took over and news channels showed fearsome civil riots spreading across Yemen like wildfire. News of disruption of services, peace etc trickled down to the island and embellished horrifying stories added to my woes. Socotra Yemen at that moment only had seven foreigners (including me) staying on the island and among us, four were South African missionaries, who were stationed there on duty. Every evening, they huddled in my room, to check up on the sick tourist, watch news in silent anxiety and each faced a deep fear of not being able to go back home in a long time.

Desert rose flowers of Socotra

The blood spilling over the world

Incidentally, at that time, extremist groups in Syria and Iraq were executing captives in the most inhuman manner and Japan and the rest of the world were vowing revenge. News of constant drone attacks at the off limits Hadramout mountains and the surrounding desert towns of Marib and Shibam were terrifying and we counted fearful days before ISIS made its presence felt in Yemen. In retrospect, those were some of my most emotionally disturbing and mentally taxing travel moments and to fall sick in a country where Al Qaeda, Houthis and armed Sunni tribes were vying for power, was a real nightmare. All these thoughts, disturbing media telecasts and an ill body made feel extremely homesick and my most evenings were spent crying myself to sleep. I remember, how images from my home, my city and the safety net of my family flashed in front of my eyes and immediately gorgeous Socotra Yemen sunsets faded into dull monochromes. A really slow internet also did not help my cause and I managed to leave messages of my safety to my family back home. Indian embassy’s glaring Travel Advisory to Yemen made things scarier and I feared my consulate leaving the country, before I got better.

An unique natural rock near Arhar Beach

Travel notes from Socotra Yemen

To keep myself from falling into pieces, I started writing again; scribbling endlessly on pages and pouring out my thoughts through a proper fountain pen till I used to fall asleep on my open diary. Strangely the act helped in venting out and healed me, while I counted days to go back home from Socotra Yemen. I always enjoyed writing and preferred a fountain pen to electronic devices and once again the curling, wet letters soothed my mind. Today, reliving those nightmarish moments seem impossible and the pressure of the anxiety faced then, is hard to pen down. So I am attaching excerpts from my travel diary to help explain the situation in a more poignant way. The next post is taken directly from my Socotra Yemen diary during the war. Inane, insecure, frustrated, hysterical, at times borderline crazy, selfish, scared, heartbroken, anxious and lonely; solo traveler’s thoughts at the time of uncertainty are a direct giveaway on how difficult it is to be responsible for your own self, in an unfamiliar surrounding amidst situation beyond our control. The intense homesickness and frustration felt in such situations are at times too much to handle and even the simplest of things result in extreme mood swings. Falling sick and of course, being a woman adds a whole new dimension to  the entire mess and you find asking yourself, why on earth did you ever have to do this anyway.

The beautiful pink cliff and blue ocean

Grassy meadows near Arhar Beach where goats come to graze

The one and only road of Socotra Yemen

The massive sand dunes of Arhar Beach of Socotra Yemen

The Arhar Beach of Socotra Yemen

The old stone hut of Socotra Yemen

Children slide down the gigantic dunes on mattresses

An old and sick solo traveler in Socotra Yemen

Follow the rest of the Yemen series here

• YEMEN CRISIS AND MEMORIES OF OLD SANAA
• MEMORIES OF SOCOTRA
• HOW I ENDED UP ON THE SOCOTRA ISLAND
• HADIBO AND URBANIZATION OF SOCOTRA
• THE MOUNTAIN BEDOUINS OF SOCOTRA
• LOSING TIME IN WADI DIRHUR
• CAVE ESCAPADE IN SOCOTRA
• THE SHIFTING SAND DUNES OF ZAHAK
• GETTING BURIED IN SAND IN OMAK
• DRIVING FROM QADAMA TO QALANCIYA
• THE AMBER HUNTER OF DETWA LAGOON
• LIVING A BIT OF LOCAL LIFE IN QALANCIYA
• EMPTY MOUMI PLATEAU: THE DESERT ROSE FOREST

RESPONSIBLE TRAVELING-BECAUSE I CARE