Kuwait

Next chapter, Kuwait!

We exited Iraq, again the border took a bit of time because of slow bureaucracy.
The Kuwaiti side though, works extremely efficient. Imagine walking to one window for passport control, followed by another for vehicle customs? A process lasting no longer than 20 minutes!? 🤯 Judging by the hours long border process we have become accustomed to in the past months, this highly simplified version seemed outrageous.

In deep awe and excitement, we headed straight to the fuel station. Not because of the fuel, but because it has a café and supermarket at the same time! We got some crisps, cookies and coffee and sat in the sun and were happy. An hour went by and eventually we remembered we were meant to be travelling, so we moved on.

Opting for the back roads, we took the detour through camel lands and then the long long long bridge to Kuwait city. While barely 150 km separate Basra from Kuwait City, the difference in infrastructure was immediate. And once again, people seemed to be overly excited to see us two knights, offering us sweets and fist bumps from the car.
And another thing: a lot of people here seem to be quite well off, regarding the vehicles they drive - but later more.

Once again, the first destination for us in Kuwait was a workshop to give Kismet a wellness treatment. She's been moody in the mornings and pissing oil all over, but nobody has to live with that and we went to the well renowned TriStar shop. And just as we arrived, RidingKismet cleaned the road from pointy things and brought them a punctured rear wheel. Ricki and Mohammed instantly started to punch us questions about Kismet's history and symptoms and said in two days everything could be solved. Alright! And indeed to their credit, next morning they sent us pictures and news of the engine, told us they had found the necessary seals and that the carb is being cleaned. Great service, guys, cheers!

In Kuwait, the currency is strong and everything is quite expensive. The cheapest accommodation we could find though turned out to be an apartment with living room, washing machine, kitchen and uncountable (3) bath rooms in Salmiya, the "working class neighborhood", next to the sea. While Kismet was having a cure, we went to explore the city.

Kuwait is a relatively young state whose wealth came with the industrialization of oil from the mid 20th century onward. Its relationship with Iraq has long been tense, culminating in the invasion and the massive destruction during the Gulf War, 1990. After the Iraqi defeat with help of the US, a fast and thorough rebuild left Kuwait City as a shiny, modern place.
Also, wealth is backed through cheap labor of mainly Indians, but also Pakistanis and Philipinos, who make more than half of the population. That's not the people in the flashy cars, but the people in the workshops, the shopkeepers, the ones keeping the city ticking, clean and tidy. Eager for originality, we went to a worker's restaurant - and found ourselves in Delhi, with chicken and curry and surrounded by welcoming Indians.

Next day, the bike was ready and we came around at the workshop where we met the owner, Jafar Behbehani. This guy is the main importer of BMW and Ducati in Kuwait and the first one bringing motorcycling to the Arabs, as he said - an energetic man in his 70ies, if not working or training, always on the bike. In his office he proudly showed us pictures of him together with George W. Bush and family, with Valentino Rossi, and other figures that shaped politics and motorsports. We went dinner together - touching ground, at the burger shop next door. Thankfully, Jafar gave us a very generous discount on the work, and we proudly signed on Ricki's personal wall of travellers he had helped out. With a healthily beating kismet (the carbs were so clogged, they told us, that the secondary carb barely delivered fuel...) and blinking as they cleaned both of our bikes, we headed out of town to camp close to the Saudi border.

There we found the "once upon a truck" guys we had met some days earlier in Iraq: A dutch family of six, with the youngest being five years old, traveling to south Africa with all the time necessary. We were invited for some delicious pancakes and card playing with the kids, before curling in the tend, in-between the sea and the city....Read more