West Asia

There’s something uncomfortable about discussing recreational travel to West Asia – more commonly known as the Middle East. How do you talk about holidaying in a region that is so racked with conflict and suffering? Even the term "Middle East" is a colonial hangover, an imprecise catch-all for a vast, complex, and deeply misunderstood part of the world. But travel, when done right – curious, respectful, free from cliché – is one of the best antidotes to ignorance. And for those willing to look beyond the headlines, there is more here than conflict and oil wealth.

Jordan alone could be an entire itinerary: the magnificence of Petra, of course, but also the wild beauty of Wadi Rum. There's Iran, a country of immense cultural and historical riches, where tourists are welcomed with warm hospitality. For adventure, Oman offers deep wadis and lonely dunes, dramatic coastal drives and markets that have yet to become stage sets for tourists. And Egypt, still too often reduced to its pyramids, is a whole world in itself: the alleys of Islamic Cairo, the deep south where Nubian culture still holds, or the vast Western Desert.

Then there’s West Asia's other reality: the gleaming, hyper-commercial mirages that sell a sanitised, frictionless version of the region to those who prefer their travel without challenge. Dubai is the worst offender, a place that exists almost entirely as a tax haven, shopping mall, and social media backdrop, built by migrant labourers who will never see the luxury they construct. It is the least interesting thing about this part of the world, and yet, for many, it is the only thing they see.

The real Middle East, the one worth travelling for, is not found in five-star hotels or artificial islands. It’s in the family-run guesthouses, the roadside cafés, tea in jasmine-clad courtyards, the shy smiles and enduring hospitality.

If travel has any meaning beyond hedonism, it is in its power to challenge perception. West Asia is not a monolith, nor a perpetual war zone, nor a billionaire’s playground. It is cities, histories, landscapes, and, most of all, people, too often reduced to abstractions.