A Week in Riyadh: My Journal from Saudi Arabia's Rapidly Changing Capital
Day 1 — Landing in the Future
King Khalid International Airport at 11 PM is surprisingly calm. The e-visa I'd applied for online 20 minutes before my flight (480 SAR, roughly $128) processed instantly, and immigration took maybe seven minutes. My Uber to the hotel in the Olaya district cost 55 SAR ($15) and took 30 minutes through wide, immaculately maintained highways that made me feel like I was driving through a video game.
First impression: everything is enormous. The roads, the malls, the buildings, the sky. is flat and sprawling, and at night the skyline looks like someone dropped a handful of glowing needles into the desert.
Hotel check-in, a quick shawarma from a place on King Fahd Road (12 SAR, about $3), and I was out. The jet lag could wait.
Day 2 — Kingdom Tower and the First Awkward Prayer-Time Moment
Morning started with a realization: the hotel breakfast buffet had the best dates I'd ever eaten. Not dried, wrinkled things from a health food store. Fresh Medjool dates, plump and caramel-sweet, served alongside Arabic coffee — light, cardamom-spiced, in tiny handleless cups.
Here's the thing about Saudi coffee. When someone pours it for you, you drink it. When you're done, you shake the cup gently side to side. Otherwise they'll keep refilling it. I didn't know this and drank seven cups before a kind waiter explained.
Headed to Kingdom Centre Tower around noon. The 302-meter skyscraper's Sky Bridge observation deck (69 SAR, $18) offers views that put the city's scale into perspective. Riyadh stretches to the horizon in every direction. The architectural centerpiece of the skyline, and honestly the views from floor 99 are ridiculous.
Came back down to the mall at the tower's base and — everything was closed. Shutters down on every store. My first prayer-time experience. Dhuhr prayer lasts about 20 minutes, and the mall goes quiet. I stood near a fountain feeling conspicuous until things reopened. Download the 'Salatuk' app and plan around it.
Day 3 — Diriyah and the Saudi Food Revelation
Diriyah, the birthplace of the Saudi state, is only 15 minutes from central Riyadh. The At-Turaif UNESCO World Heritage district has been restored into a striking display of Najdi architecture — mud-brick buildings with geometric patterns cut into the walls, courtyards designed to funnel cool air.
Entry is 75 SAR (~$20), and I spent nearly three hours wandering. The museum inside explains the founding of the first Saudi state in the 15th century with actually excellent interactive displays. The kind of museum that makes history feel physical.
Next door, Al Bujairi Heritage Park is where Riyadh eats on weekends. I found Najd Village, a traditional restaurant where a woman in full Saudi dress served me kabsa — the national dish. Slow-cooked spiced rice with lamb, topped with almonds and raisins, served on a massive communal plate. 55 SAR ($15) and enough food for three people.
A man at the next table noticed me struggling with eating by hand (the traditional way) and came over to show me the technique. Scoop the rice, press it against the meat, ball it up, eat. We ended up sharing tea afterward. He insisted on paying for my coffee. I've been told Saudi hospitality is intense. He proved it.
Day 4 — The Edge of the World
This was the day. Edge of the World — Jebel Fihrayn — 90 kilometers northwest of Riyadh. My hotel arranged a driver with a 4WD for 500 SAR ($133) for the half-day trip. You absolutely cannot do this in a regular car. The last 30 kilometers are unpaved desert track, and my driver navigated by instinct as much as GPS.
There are no facilities out here. None. No toilets, no shade, no shops. I brought 4 liters of water, sunscreen SPF 50, a hat, and snacks. My driver had seen too many unprepared tourists to not check.
And then — the edge.
300 meters of vertical cliff dropping into what looks like the end of the Earth. An endless plain stretching below, ancient seabed turned to flat nothing, with the curvature of the planet visible on the horizon. No barriers. No signs. Just rock and vertigo and the kind of silence that makes your ears ring.
I sat on the edge for 45 minutes and didn't take my phone out once. Some things aren't for Instagram.
We drove back via a different route, stopping at a Bedouin roadside stop for camel milk and more dates. The driver, Ahmed, told me he brings tourists here three times a week and watches them all have the same reaction. "First they are scared," he said. "Then they sit. Then they don't want to leave."
He was right.
Day 5 — Museums and Souqs
The National Museum of Saudi Arabia is a genuine surprise. Eight halls spanning from Arabian prehistoric fossils to modern Saudi unification. The Hajj and Two Holy Mosques hall is moving even for a non-Muslim — the scale of the pilgrimage, explained through artifacts and multimedia, is staggering.
Entry: 10 SAR ($3). Three dollars. For a museum that would charge $25 anywhere else.
Afternoon: Souq Al Zal. Riyadh's oldest market, tucked in the Al Dirah historic district. This is the anti-mall — narrow passages stacked with antiques, traditional daggers (jambiya), oud perfume oil, and vintage Bedouin jewelry. The oud merchant made me smell five different grades. I bought the third one for 80 SAR ($21) and I still wear it.
Haggling is expected. I'm terrible at it. But the oud merchant seemed to enjoy the process more than I did, and we parted with a handshake and a small bottle of rose water he threw in for free.
Day 6 — Boulevard Riyadh City and the New Saudi Arabia
I'd read about Saudi Arabia's Vision 2030 transformation, but Boulevard Riyadh City made it real. This 900,000 square-meter entertainment district is part of Riyadh Season, and it's... a lot.
Entry is 30 SAR ($8). Inside: themed zones, concert venues, immersive art installations, and what felt like 200 restaurants. I watched a Saudi family — kids screaming with joy, parents taking selfies — and thought about how this country banned public entertainment venues just a few years ago.
The food court had everything from Japanese ramen to Texan BBQ to Syrian shawarma. I stuck with Saudi food — a plate of mandi (slow-smoked lamb on rice) for 45 SAR ($12) from a stall where the cook looked personally offended when I asked if it was spicy. "It's not spicy," he said. "It's flavored."
He was right. It wasn't spicy. It was flavored.
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Day 7 — Departure
Last morning. Found a small cafe near my hotel serving Saudi breakfast — ful (fava beans), liver with spices, fresh flat bread, and more of that cardamom coffee. 25 SAR ($7). The owner asked where I was from, then asked what I thought of Riyadh.
"It's not what I expected," I said.
He laughed. "Nobody expects Riyadh. That's why you should come."
I grabbed a few spice mixes and a bag of premium dates from a shop on Tahlia Street (40 SAR for a kilo of Ajwa dates — the same dates would be $60 in a New York specialty store), and headed to the airport.
The metro is partially open now — six lines, 85 stations — but I took one last Uber. The city slid past the window. Futuristic towers next to mud-brick reconstructions. Empty desert visible between shopping malls. A construction crane on every third block.
Riyadh is building something. I'm not entirely sure what yet. But I'm glad I came before it's finished.
