Taouil, February 29
Finally, I praise a small local bike, a Chinese 125 cc up like a Harley with lots of small lights on the front and a colorful leather skirt in the back, with which I am walking for three days in the arid mountains of the west Sanaa, sometimes missing off the road by force to admire the scenery.
Kaukabam I visit, and Thoul Taouil, spectacular fortified villages built on rocky peaks which they espouse the ocher. I begin by Kaukabam, the impregnable position if we said he never yielded to a seat. But now it is falling apart.
the evening, I came across a marriage. While the women gathered in the home, men are partying outside. They dance in circles and waving at regular intervals their famous dagger flit about themselves. When, after seeing those big moustachioed gunmen in the alcove, I grate being tenderly held the hand while they cut the end of fat, they seem suddenly much less formidable. Below, the newlyweds surrounded friends (note the subtle swelling of the cheeks due to the ball of qat).
And here is the famous dance of the knife, photographed from behind.
is the turn of Shibam (not to be confused with his famous hononyme of Hadramaut, the "Manhattan of the desert"), which applies especially to its market.
Thoul Here, probably the best I've seen Yemeni village, built around its citadel.
At the top of the citadel, with an Indian traveler.
Qat is better with friends.
A goat that disdains my spoiled banana skin ...
... and a cute little ass too.
Taouil, another beautiful village built on a rock.
Sana'a, March 2
Romain Gary
I stick by Sanaa, where I read Milking a life ahead of Romain Gary, who won the Prix Goncourt in 1975. This is the story of an old Jewish prostitute who, upon retirement, opens in Belleville a pension for the children of his former colleagues. Between her brood and neighbors, this is a nice mish-mash of Arabs, Jews and blacks, all seen through the eyes of the little Momo tells it all with his reasoning of a child. It's simple, original, funny and tender. It was not long that I came across such a good book. On my return to France, I'll strip the rest of the work of Romain Gary.
Sana'a, March 3
I go for a ride to Wadi Douar, the attraction that the Yemenis are most proud. It is indeed a beautiful house Imam hung on a rock inhabited since prehistoric times.
AL Hodeida, March 5
I'm leaving for a large loop motorcycle southwest of the country, starting with the villages of Manakha and Al Hajar. I'm with three other French a six-hour hike in the mountains, passing through steep trails and steep ridges above the terraces of qat and coffee down to the river dried up in the bottom of the valley . Magnificent.
Al Hoteip We cross a village Ismaili surprisingly opulent. The houses are renovated, the boys in uniform spend the brushes in the street and the white marble mosque is reminiscent of the Taj Mahal.
The guide tells us that the money comes from the Ismaili community in India, but also that all the villagers are working and that the use of qat is here forbidden, which probably improves productivity. On the way, by cons, we meet a young shepherd who apparently believes that this small pleasure does not affect its performance.
At the end of hiking, we have a small demonstration of what people can afford in a country as macho as Yemen ... The French woman who is with us a little behind the back, which gets on the nerves of the guide which can throw him squarely stones to make it go faster! It's a joke, of course.
ride mountain
the afternoon, I go back on my bike towards Al Hodeida on the banks of the Red Sea. I drive on roads on a mountainside or at the bottom of gorges carved by sculptors like giants, listening to the monumental compositions of Selected Ambient Works 2 Aphex Twin. In villages, women wear large straw hats over their headscarves, it is very beautiful.
I arrive at their destination at the dusk. There, by cons, not much to say about this great port city of half a million people. Oh yes, anyway: in a restaurant, a guy sits down carefully at the mine in front of me at the end of my meal, and shakes my hand while I put my nose in my book, remains the most complete my Naturally the world!
Zabid, March 6
Well, it's time to put myself in the local color. Yesterday, Al Hajara, the hotel gave me a bundle of qat steep premium, a 33cl bottle. It seems that it is excellent for driving and I just have a long road ahead of me. The first gulp goes well, the taste is less bitter than when chews. Hodeida I leave and find myself quickly in a straight line with no end in the middle of a desert scrub vaguely that scans a strong wind. After an hour and a half, I still feel nothing, boredom and hunger are starting to take me. I stop for a bite to eat and finish the rest. On the way I install my cheich comfortably to protect myself from the sun while the wind sheltering my ears to better hear the music. I send a garage craziest mix of Frankie Knucker you die, which makes me happy despite the gusts of sand, but on a live house planing James Holden I realize I am focused on my unusually conduct.
googly eyes well, I feel hyper vigilant, I mastered my line right. I had boundless energy, if I had time I m'arrrêterais happy to do a little soccer with kids on the roadside. James Holden continues to send its synthetic sheets, dunes march, I'm firmly. However, contrary to what I told the Yemenis, one can not say I'm really relaxed. In fact, I could run like this until morning. I stop to capture the moment, sofa bed, and I take my way.
On I started, I Zabid exceed more than fifty miles, but that does not undermine my good mood. I retraced my steps and arrives at its destination at nightfall. She is really beautiful with its fortified gates, its winding streets, its mosque and its citadel that served as backdrop to the Arabian Nights Pasolini.
I meet on the evening of local youth, delighted to present me their city, who invited me to the restaurant where I managed to swallow something despite the appetite suppressant effect of Qat. By cons, there it is three o'clock in the morning and I sleep well. But of course, impossible to close the eye. And the combined attack of the bugs and mosquitoes do not help me relax ...
Al Khawkha, March 7
Know
limit his conversation
funny day. I began meeting with young people the day before, take me to Al Jazah, a beautiful wild beach beside the Red Sea. On the way, is almost African. I see black women with uncovered faces, dressed in colorful dresses that change the usual sinister black veils. A little later, two boys prepare to bathe with their large buoys ...
... a little guy shows me his big knife (really) ...
... and a driver turned the car he has built with three steel tubes and a motorcycle engine.
But things go wrong with my three new friends when we discuss issues of substance. They are orthodox Muslims who advocate the full veil without being able to justify it, would it be theologically (and because the Koran does not require it), and I want to say as many wives as possible, without wondering what they would think one second to be well placed to compete. But the worst thing is when I sing the praises of Saddam Hussein without knowing anything about the Iran-Iraq war or the gassing of the Kurds. I know I'm stupid, but I can not accept that I talk to people with limited which I have to adjust the level of conversation. Below, one of them is training to become an imam. That promises.
On leaving, I tell myself anyway, I'd finally have a real discussion with someone a little change to better understand the issues this country.
Yemeni disillusioned
This occurs the same night, a little further south to an idyllic beach, where I met the head of a tourism agency, 35 of which 18 went to Kuwait, a licensed French language . He tells me about the corruption of the elites and the economic crisis that would follow, the stiffening of society influenced by Saudi Wahabism and popular support for Saddam Hussein since the Gulf War, motivated only by the solidarity against the U.S. invasion then that Kuwait has supported for years by building schools and hospitals. He explained also that the bases of Al Qaeda are in Yemen, a country of origin of the family of Bin Laden, and tells me how to place the two latest attacks tourists. Unlike previous episodes, it would be more kidnappings carried out by tribes in exchange for equipment for their village, but not even claimed murders allegedly committed by young enthusiasts. Last summer, the seven Spaniards were simply locked in their Jeep before it was dynamited, and in January the three Belgians and their driver were lowered one by one Kalashnikov, without any explanation. The story has been told by one of his guides, who lost two fingers in the attack. In the aftermath, New Frontiers has canceled all his visits and he is laid off, why he finds himself drinking beer on the sly under the stars with me, cursing the extremists who are ruining his country.
All this is not very funny, but do not think it still keeps me show you some pictures of the beach of Al Khawkha and these birds a bit overwhelmed by the gusts of wind ...
Al Mukalla, March 13
The Manhattan of the desert
Not much to report on the ascent to Sanaa. Apart from some beautiful mountains at the start of term, the long road that passes by Taiz, Ibb and Dhamar has no interest. Oh yes, there is still this panel, which pleases me well.
After making the bike to its owner, I go by bus to the eastern part of the country. During the journey, the driver passes an episode of Indiana Jones or Harrison Ford zigouille Arabs behind each other without asking him any question of conscience. I, for cons, I do not feel very comfortable, only Westerner among the relatives of those who are massacred on the screen nicely. After seven hours of driving, we arrived in Hadhramaut, Shibam location, the famous Manhattan of the desert with its tall buildings ochres a dozen floors constructed entirely of mud brick, its residents have with care since sometimes seven or eight centuries. Traditional techniques are always appropriate, because the new town opposite the former was built with the same materials and houses are almost as beautiful.
I spend the next two days to visit and Tarim Seyoun: not bad but not amazing either. It cons by the opportunity to meet a charming young man, former member of the local dynasty (he wears the name of the palace below), who invites me to dinner and introduced me its region. Since it seems well educated and open minded, I asked his opinion on the confinement of women. I replied that it is to preserve the villainy of the outside world. Nobody does them wrong, nobody wrong, so they arrive perfectly pure and innocent at their wedding, and it is a great pleasure for men to marry such women. I understand his kif, but even this story that reminds me of Kobe beef. By late evening, we find his brother, much less educated, who is flabbergasted when I tell him it is conceivable that Carla Bruni has not submitted his recent marriage to virgin.
the way, I show you this cobbler whose hat I well done laughing.
The next day, I can not find anyone to share the exorbitant taxi fares
requested to visit the valley of the Wadi Doan, yet
deemed beautiful. It is true that it is there that the three
Belgians were killed two months ago. This is the
region of origin of the bin Laden family. Too bad I'm leaving directly south to the port of Al Mukalla, where I unearthed the smallest bathroom in the world ...
Then I fly to the island of Socotra, known in antiquity for its frankincense myrrh and now known for its stunning scenery and its unique biodiversity.
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