THE SOLO TRAVELLER
Your world. Your way.
Cultural immersion
Catherine DeVrye shares a moment of friendship with local women in Yanbu, reflecting the warmth and hospitality she encountered during her travels through Saudi Arabia. Image courtesy Catherine DeVrye.
Beyond Timbuktu: Journeys of Hope and Humanity
Bestselling author Catherine DeVrye has travelled through more than 150 countries, often independently, discovering that people are frequently kinder than the headlines suggest. Endorsed by Lonely Planet founder Tony Wheeler, her latest book, Beyond Timbuktu: Journeys of Hope and Humanity, takes readers on an alphabetical journey from Albania to Zimbabwe.
Having started life in a Canadian orphanage, Catherine earned a master’s degree in the USA before arriving in Australia with $200, grieving the loss of both adoptive parents. From trekking to Timbuktu and Everest Base Camp to swimming off Yemen and sharing meals with royalty and refugees, her experiences reveal the generosity, humanity and unexpected connections encountered along the way.
In this extract, Catherine recalls travelling solo through Saudi Arabia, discovering a country of contrasts and hospitality that challenged her expectations.
Words by Catherine DeVrye. An extract from Beyond Timbuktu: Journeys of Hope and Humanity (Hardie Grant Custom, 2026). Reproduced with permission from Hardie Grant Custom, November 2026.
“To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other countries …” Aldous Huxley.
Saudi Arabia suggests sexism, suppression and intolerance to many Westerners. “Why would you go there, as a woman on your own? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? Are you naive or just crazy?” Surely there’s a difference between crazy and curious. I went simply because I’d never been. A country long maligned had just opened to tourists and I wanted to see it for myself.
Landing in a spotless modern airport with free Wi-Fi, no queues, and courteous customs officials who barely glanced at my online visa, I arrived dressed in black, headscarf included. Although no longer required, I wore it most days. Women behind veils, their dark eyes smiling, greeted me warmly: “Welcome to our country. Thank you for respecting our culture.” I also met men who practiced polygamy, though most hastened to clarify: “I only have one wife. More is too expensive.”
Not a drop of alcohol passed my lips, but my thirst and curiosity were fully quenched with Arab coffee and mint-lime juice, as refreshing as the glimpse of Saudi itself.
Except when golfing in an expat compound, I saw almost no other Westerners, but with more than 97 per cent of Saudis speaking English with varying fluency, communication was easy. I felt comfortable and never harassed.
Riyadh, with 7.5 million residents, offers limited public transport, but a metro was under construction. Few locals walked. E-scooters made it easy to glide through newer neighbourhoods. Elsewhere, you had to watch your step on crumbling footpaths, unless you wanted to qualify for one of the country’s disability parking signs: “Handicapped Access – People of Determination”.
From the ninety-ninth floor of the Kingdom Centre skybridge between Riyadh’s own Twin Towers, I looked out towards Diriyah’s old town and Deera Square, once known as Judgement Square, where public executions took place. That evening, I witnessed only music and kindness during a local festival and reminded myself to be less judgemental – a work in progress I’m afraid.
In the adjacent Al Zal Souk, stalls overflowed with gold, perfumes, carpets, knives and coffee urns. Once a litre of water cost more than a litre of oil here. Today, Saudi still holds one of the world’s largest oil reserves – and not a single river. It’s clearly trying to reinvent itself to be modern – but not Western.
Left: Catherine at the Edge of the World, where dramatic limestone cliffs rise above the desert landscape near Riyadh; and traditional architecture and brightly lit shopfronts in Jeddah’s historic old town, Saudi Arabia. Images courtesy Catherine DeVrye.
In Jeddah, flashy Grand Prix billboards read “Overtake the future” and everyday drivers took it literally. On the fourteen-lane highways, white lines seemed more decorative than directive. I wondered if the women who’d qualified as fighter pilots, before they could legally drive, ever paused to reconsider what they’d wished for.
I opted for ever-present, affordable Ubers, one driver even letting me take a spin around a car park, simply because I now could. “To make you welcome, dear lady,” he said, fumbling with his phone to play the Australian national anthem via Spotify, while changing lanes at 120km/h. That was the most dangerous moment of my entire visit.
I feasted on falafel and flatbread hot from roadside ovens, savoured breakfast buffets in five-star hotels, and grabbed tacos at a fast-food Mexican joint. Some restaurants and banks still had separate areas for men and women, but mall food courts were open to all, with a mix of local dishes and global chains. I visited in winter, with mid-twenties temperatures, but shopping centres offered air-conditioned refuge from the brutal 55°C summer.
Just before my visit, Saudi Arabia upset Argentina in the first round of the 2022 World Cup, and a national holiday was declared. With gleaming infrastructure and bold ambition, I suspect this nation will keep scoring goals, as more travellers discover a land rich in oil, culture and contradiction.
So was it crazy or naive to visit solo as a woman? With people as warm as the weather, let’s just say I felt safer in Saudi than in Sydney on a Saturday night.