Double trouble in Saudi Arabia

Posted Sunday, March 25, 2007, 6:05 PM by Lonely Planet

Frances Linzee Gordon has just completed an unprecedented research assignment in Saudi Arabia for Lonely Planet's forthcoming guide to the Arabian Peninsula. As the first person ever to be granted a visa to visit the Kingdom as an independent tourist, she kept a diary of her adventures. In the sixth of eight blog posts, Frances wonders whether she's seeing double...


Were the long days and drawn-out journeys beginning to take their toll? Was I imagining the cars behind us, and vaguely familiar faces? At first Abdullah denied it, but one day confessed: we were followed wherever we went.



Abdullah's natural Saudi taciturnity (and perhaps intrinsic fear of the authorities) prevented him from telling me exactly who they were, though I suspected it was the Ministry of the Interior (those in charge of the Kingdom's internal security).

Though notorious, the Saudi secret police apparently operated in a much more subtle way. So ubiquitous and all-pervasive are they that even immigrant street sweepers and loo cleaners are said to be in their services. So effective is this network that suspects are apparently apprehended within hours of murder.

Abdullah explained that they followed us for our own security; I suspected it might have been for theirs. The Saudi take any criticism of their precious Kingdom extremely personally and so quake in the trail of writers or journalists - the very few they let in, that is.

It was also a fear of more Western killings. In 2003 and 2004, a spate of murders of
Westerners had led to the direct departure of no less than 50% of the 10,000 American resident expats, and 30% of Europeans. The Saudis, desperately dependent on them for their technical expertise, were terrified of scaring off more.

Though Abdullah feigned frivolity and fun, even he appeared to follow a tight procedure. Whenever he got out of the car (even to buy petrol), he would lock me tight within. He also insisted on accompanying me wherever I went - including to the portal of the ladies.

Every day, a 'Mr Saad' would call to check on our movements. Sometimes Abdullah would pass me the phone. Feigning belief he was a friend of Abdullah, we would talk the most ludicrous trivialities as Abdullah covered his mouth to contain his laughter:

'How is Saudi, Ms Frances?'

'Oh very beautiful, Mr Saad, and the camels are very handsome...'



One episode in particular caused Mr Saad the most terrible upset. As visitors are only ever granted a one-month visa to the country, I had to sneak out and then back in in order to keep my visa valid. I decided Bahrain was the place and to Abdullah's enormous anxiety jumped in a taxi. We sped off to the border and back in less than an hour. As soon as I returned, Abdullah's phone began to ring:

'Ms Frances, she go to Bahrain for 46 minutes! What she do in Bahrain for 46 minutes?'

Without flinching, Abdullah told him that I had all my life wanted a photograph of 'beautiful Bahrain'.

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