Al-Baha, on the shoulder of giants

"It is much warmer down in the valley. But up here, on the top of the mountain, it can be cold and very foggy. Sometimes we can find ourselves standing above an ocean of clouds. It’s this variety of climate that makes Al-Baha such a unique place. And that’s why we have all this agricultural wealth." Facing the horizon, 2,700 metres above sea level, Muhammed Alghameli adjusts his red ghutrah, blown away by a gust of wind. Beside him, Salem Alghamdi nods his head in agreement . The two friends, each with their own farm, share a pas- sion for their home region. "There is so much to discover and love in Al-Baha," Salem insists. "Whenever we can, we escape to the mountains and enjoy the beauty of nature."

The day began with a classic Saudi breakfast of camel’s liver, baked eggs, tamees (a type of flatbread) and fuul (fava beans cooked with spices until creamy). Sharing food is a corner-stone of hospitality in a country where community ties are sacred and where hosts rarely take "no" for an answer. At his Almond Orchard Farm, which has been in his family for more than a century, Salem grows a variety of organic fruits: peaches, figs, lemons and, of course, almonds. After drying in the sun for five days, they are ready to eat, once their shells have been removed with a simple stone, as Salem demonstrates in the soft morning sun.

The unbearable lightness of beans
It is an hour’s drive to Al-Makhwah Governorate, where one of the coun- try’s most exclusive and secret coffee plantations is located, facing the majestic peaks of the Jabal Shada mountains. From a local roadside fruit vendor, Muhammed and Salem pick branches of fragrant berries to attach to their ghutrahs. The mountain road passes a waterfall and winds through cloud shaped rocks. At the end of a final narrow bend, Khader Al-Hawi is waiting with his son and his colleagues.

Al-Baha Province is home to Shadwi coffee, a unique variety considered by specialists as the very best in the country. The small Coffea arabica trees thrive in the cool mountain environment, where rainfall and springs provide the necessary water. After the picking, which takes place in the first weeks of winter, the small red beans are dried for 10 days using a traditional method. "We put them in the sun all morning and in the shade for the rest of the day, in closed containers, to deprive them of oxygen," explains Khader Al-Hawi. "This process ensures a good fermentation of the beans and allows them to develop their full range of aromas and flavours."
Another distinctive feature of Shadwi coffee is the utilisation of the husks. Once the beans have been separated from the husks, they are ground and used either on their own or mixed with coffee. "You can immediately taste the difference from other Saudi coffees," adds Khader Al-Hawi, walking along the narrow walls surrounding the nursery where young plants are carefully grown. "After a year, they reach a height of 1 meter, but it takes two years before we can harvest them. At full maturity, the trees can reach 3 meters." The farm follows a mixed cropping system to maintain biodiversity and fertilise the soil. Banana, chilli, guava and mandarin trees stand side by side, while flocks of sheep wander among them. Jabal Shada guards them, just as it guards the precious Shadwi beans, the wondrous treasure of Al-Baha.

The knight, the twins and the yellow dates
Two tall square towers loom up against the deep black sky. Muhammed stands before them in full traditional Al-Baha costume, a long ancient sword at his side. Following the gestures of the ceremonial welcome reserved for distinguished guests, he loads his decorated 1853 musket and fires it in an explosion of golden sparks. "Al-Malad Castle, the Twin Fortresses, has stood guard for centuries over the capital of Al-Baha, on one of the three main trade routes between Syria and Yemen. I have turned it into a museum of history and of daily life."

A popular figure on social networks, Muhammed dedicates his time to preserving and promoting the cultural and culinary heritage of his region. Removing the hood from his hunting falcon, he explains: "Al-Baha used to be called the fruit basket of Makkah. Over the years, there has been an exodus of young people from the area to the big cities and a decline in agricultural production. With the support of the government, things are changing, and new projects are emerging. In the museum I also collect objects that tell the story of Al-Baha’s culinary traditions. For example, dallah coffee pots. Visitors can see how coffee was roasted over the fire and ground by hand, and how this still defines our relationship with Saudi coffee today."

A little further on, sheltered by a bridge, half a dozen food trucks line the side of the road. One of them stands out from the usual crowd of classic international food stalls. Behind her high counter, chef Sarah Alghamdi offers pure traditional Al-Baha cuisine of the most authentic kind, which can be enjoyed sitting on carpets and cushions in a very homely atmosphere. One of the highlights is Daghabees, a signature dish of the region. Different types of flour are mixed with water to form small discs of dough, which are then cooked in a rich broth of meat and spices. Served with vegetables, it is eaten piping hot and is particularly appreciated in the winter months. Typical of the Al-Ghamdi tribe, it is at the same time comforting and subtle in taste, with a deep, lingering yeasty flavour.

Barhi dates are served at the end of the meal. The yellow fruit is fresh, not dried. Under the crispy skin, the flesh is juicy and deliciously sweet. A surprising experience compared to the more common dried varieties. It comes with a cup of Saudi coffee, and Muhammed explains: "There are not many restaurants that serve real traditional food. We mostly eat it at home, with family and friends. But it is important to keep recipes like Daghabees alive."

Through the fields and the ochads
In Saudi Arabia, farms are passed down from generation to generation. Many children continue to work on the family farm, even when they have gone to university or have other jobs. These often small estates create a unique agricultural landscape. The province of Al-Baha produces a wide range of fruits, some of which are surprising in a climate that is still relatively dry and hot. To the north-east of the capital , 40,000 strawberries and blackberries are planted on Faisal’s farm. Thanks to the irrigation system, they grow without any intervention and produce perfectly sweet fruit. Here, surrounded by lemon, fig and olive trees, a hotel is being built. In three years’ time, this Moresque-style palace with its spectacular cupola will welcome guests around its swimming pool. A sign of the development of the region and of the role that tourism will play in it.

A few miles away, Ward Zaytouna, the fully organic farm of Mosleh Muhammed El Rubashi, offers a different perspective. Spread over several levels of terraces, 650 olive trees dominate the small central building. "I chose the Nibelle variety, which produces large fruits that can be eaten or used for oil. The slope makes it difficult for the  workers, so I’ve diversified the plantations. My greatest pleasure is experimenting and trying to plant new species of trees. I produce almonds, pomelos, mandarins, three kinds of figs… but also papaya and jujube, for example. These trees are not native to Al-Baha – nobody thought they would grow here – but I’ve succeeded and I’m proud of it."

A river runs through it
Salem’s jeep enters the shallow waters of the river. Another farm, even more secret and secluded, lies on the bank. It is a dense forest of low trees, hidden behind thick vegetation. These are pomegranates, of a rare variety found only in Al-Baha. "My father planted them 60 years ago,” explains Mohammed Hassan Alzarani. "I started working with him when I was 12. It’s been 40 years, and I know the trees so well that I can tell whether a fruit is sweet, ripe or full of seeds just by touching it." The orchard is entirely organic, and the only fertiliser used is the natural manure from the flock of 120. Pruning is the most crucial part of the cultivation. The 650 trees must be maintained to allow the fruit to develop fully. The Al-Baha variety has a perfectly balanced taste, without bitterness, round and acidulous. The seeds are firm but melt in the mouth. Between the massive trunks, some fallen pomegranates are opened, their bright red flesh contrasting with the green of the clover. "Hedgehogs like to eat them; they sometimes even climb to the first branches. There’s nothing we can do about it; we just let them have their share."

Now it’s time to drink some soothing tea. From the boot of the car, Salem pulls out all the necessary equipment, including a portable gas stove. As the leaves infuse, the men gather in the orange light of the sunset for the Maghrib prayer. Their chanting sounds like a sacred lullaby, rocking the sun away. Nothing ever seems rushed in Al-Baha; time flows at its own gentle pace, in a form of communion with nature long lost to most of us. Food does bring people together here, perhaps more than anywhere else on earth.

Brothers in farms
In the high season of summer, when Saudi tourists seek cooler temperatures in the misty mountains, Salem’s Almond Orchard Farm welcomes them for educational visits and even offers the possibility of staying in one of the wooden lodges he has built around the central orchard. In the kitchen, overlooking the green dovecote, Salem has started to prepare a  Kabsa with camel. "It is probably the most popular and most loved dish Saudi Arabia. We can make it with different kinds of meat, but camel is the best," he adds with a laugh as he throws cubes of camel hump in a large pressure cooker. The very fatty part of the animal will provide the necessary grease to sizzle the meat. Once the fat has melted, Salem adds large chunks of camel loin, a curry-like mixture of spices and black lemon powder. He then tops it off with water and closes the cooker for 40 minutes. When the meat is tender, he removes the excess broth, which is eaten as a side dish. He then pours the rice into the pot. Another 10 minutes later, the rice has absorbed all the stock. Kabsa is ready to be served. We gather around it, sitting cross-legged on the carpet. The melting meat burns the fingers; the rice dampens them with its rich moisture. Finger-licking good, literally. The magic of Al-Baha hospitality in a nutshell. Brothers in arms in the most peaceful of wars, Salem and Muhammed defend their heritage and their traditions with a love that cannot leave anyone indifferent. A love that waits to be shared with the whole world, over and over again.

Peyo Lissarrague