This is part two; part one is here.

The best travel experiences are those that open my mind and heart to people, places, and causes that I was previously unaware of or that I misunderstood. Socotra is a place that is so unique to anywhere I have ever been—the geography is unique, the geology is unique, and the plants and animals are all unlike anywhere else I’ve been in the world. But perhaps the most memorable thing about visiting Socotra was the cultural experience. The men and women of Socotra have a culture, life, and beliefs so different from my own—but as a solo Western female traveler, they made me feel so welcome, respected, and cared for. 

I had come to Socotra a little uneasy about the idea of going to this mysterious, isolated island and leaving my health and safety to... well, random men. But after meeting and spending the first few days with my guide, Rafat, and driver, Abdu, I felt silly for ever having any worry or doubt about my safety. Rafat was so warm, kind, and helpful—and instantly more like a friend than a guide. I felt safe in the remote, inhospitable places we visited with Rafat as my guide. We hiked, swam, and shared conversations together as friends, opening up and comparing the challenges of each wanting to live untethered, adventurous lives within the constraints of our very different cultures.

DAY 4

HAJHIR MOUNTAINS HIKE

I woke up to my alarm at 5 a.m. to it already being too warm to stay asleep. Rafat offered me tea, eggs, and flatbread for breakfast, and then we got ready for our hike. I filled my hiking pack with a few liters of water and some fruit and snacks, and I grabbed my trekking poles. Because of how limited cell service is on the island, there was no way to research the distance or difficulty of the hike we were about to do (not that there would be any information on AllTrails, anyhow). To my disappointment, Qoronful the camel would not be joining us on the hike, since the trail was too narrow and steep for such a beast. As the sun started to rise, I followed Rafat and Ali up a trail into the wild unknown of the Hajhir mountains. The trail was bushy and surprisingly steep, with big, rocky steps. I was impressed at the speed and ease with which the local guide, Ali, navigated the terrain. Despite wearing the most basic and ill-fitting rubber sandal slides and appearing to be in average shape, Ali hiked up the trail at a speed I could not keep up with. Despite all the hiking I do, Rafat and Ali were fast and effortless hikers, and they scaled up the trail while chatting nonstop, only stopping from time to time to wait for me to catch up and catch my breath.

After a few hundred vertical feet of climbing, stunning views came into view of the surrounding rocky crags, speckled with the occasional dragon’s blood tree. I was surprised to discover some structures—stone walls and primitive huts up here—maybe for farmers and keeping livestock. We came across several goats and then a shepherd. I’m not sure where he came from or how he got up here, but I assume he lives in one of these huts for stretches of time while the goats graze up here. We hiked just a little further and arrived at our destination, an overlook from where we could see the city of Hadibo and the ocean beyond. The view was a spectacular payoff after a pretty short but steep climb (I recorded 1300’ in 1.6 miles). The three of us found comfortable places to perch on the rocks while I flew my drone. It was really fun to show Rafat and Ali the perspective from my drone; it reminded me of how great it was to fly my drone at times and places when or where the technology was still new and exciting (over my ten years as a drone photographer, attitudes have shifted just about everywhere). 

HADIBO, OMAK BEACH

The hike back down took just an hour, after which we packed up back into the 4Runner and 4-wheeled back down the dirt road, this time all the way back to Hadibo. We had started the day so early that it was still morning when we got back to the city. Rafat and I discussed the plan for the day and decided that it would be nice to take a break at his house. There I was able to shower, do laundry, charge my devices, and take a nap while Rafat ran errands. It was nice to have some downtime indoors for a few hours, and it was very interesting to see how a local person lives in Socotra. Rafat’s place was built of stone, with a partially open-air layout with individually enclosed rooms. His home had all of the necessary comforts of home, including electricity, a washing machine, a cold shower, and internet, which was decent enough to send and receive messages to catch up with Jason back home. The air conditioning was working very hard to keep the room just barely cool enough for me to rest, but by this time I was getting somewhat acclimatized to the heat. 

Rested, washed, and recharged, we got back into the 4Runner and drove a ways to our next wild destination: some sand dunes near the coast. The dunes were photogenic and made for another nice place to fly my drone. After a little droning and exploring, we drove just a little further and arrived at Omak Beach to set up camp for the night. Omak Beach was one of a few places where you could tell camping had been established for tourist groups. There were shade structures for eating and primitive outhouses with toilets and tanks of water for washing. Here we had another communal Iftar and dinner with the other guides and groups. That night I set up my tent in the sand dunes, with a glorious panoramic view of the ocean.

DAY 5

CAVE

After packing up camp, we drove a little down the road from Omak Beach and came to a place from where we could see a huge cave in the cliffside. The day was a scorcher, and the short ten-minute walk from the car to the cave was insanely hot. I was very glad that I had packed my sun umbrella in my luggage, as it was getting a lot of use here. The cave had very interesting stalactite formations, and as I often do, I wished I knew more about geology than I do. Inside the cave a shepherd and his entire herd of goats were napping, taking refuge from the heat and sun. Rafat playfully chatted with a couple of local boys who we said are always at the cave, and they and I did what conversing we were able to do with the boys’ few words of English. Rafat explained the importance of learning English for locals, as it allows them the opportunity to work with tourists and gain opportunities on this island where there are so very few. 

DRAGON’S BLOOD TREE FOREST

Our next destination was a forest of dragon’s blood trees, and it would take a couple of hours to get there. We left the coast and drove inland and upland. We passed through a very small village, in a completely isolated and remote stretch of road. We pulled over, and Rafat walked out to a dragon’s blood tree, perched on the edge of a massive canyon. Under this tree hung a swing, and as Rafat started to swing, a group of little girls came out to greet him. Since the island is a small, sparsely populated place, and Rafat takes visitors to the same scenic destinations during the tourist season, he has come to know many of the locals along the way. Rafat spoke to the girls and introduced me, and we tried our best to ask each other questions with their limited English. The oldest of the girls was about thirteen years old, and Rafat explained that she has become a little bit of a “celebrity” for having her photo taken and shared by photographers who have visited the island. In Socotra, almost all women cover their faces and shy away and decline when asked to have their picture taken. Although it was nice to have the opportunity to photograph this lovely young girl, it raised so many thoughts in my mind about the double-edged sword of tourism, Western cultural influences, and social media. This girl has been receiving attention and gifts from visitors for being receptive to having her photo taken—but where will that leave her in a few years, when she is at marrying age—and inevitably becomes a wife and a mother, and may no longer be allowed to have these interactions? It’s very special to have the opportunity to travel the world and gain perspective from meeting people in very different cultures, often less privileged ones. But it is always bittersweet to be able to come and go so easily and freely, knowing that the local people don’t have that same privilege. 

Before coming to Socotra, I asked Rafat what I could bring to give to local children. I didn’t want to give children money or candy, but instead something that would be useful and not create any plastic litter. Rafat said that kids always need pencils and notebooks, so to bring some school supplies. I used my free 2-bag allowance on my international flights to bring out a big stack of notebooks and several boxes of crayons and pencils that I had ordered on Amazon. Before driving onward, I gifted this group of girls and their little brother some of the supplies I had brought. I will never forget how excited these children were to receive some of the most basic school supplies—that most Western kids have already tossed aside in favor of staring at screens.

We continued driving and stopped at a canyon with a small creek for a short, refreshing swim. The water wasn’t very deep, but just deep enough to cool off and freshen up. I was surprised again to discover dozens—if not hundreds—of little crabs watching me from cracks in the rocks. I became convinced that I was feeling my butt getting pinched, but I’m not sure if that really happened or I was imagining it.

When we started driving again, the dragon’s blood trees started to multiply. A landscape that was dotted with the occasional dragon’s blood tree, little by little became denser with the umbrella-like trees, until the road was eventually winding through an entire forest of them. We made a stop for lunch along the way and then kept driving higher to a large open area on a plateau. This was our destination for the day and night, the Firmin Forest. The plateau is said to be home to a million dragon blood trees, and up here it certainly felt like it. Since we were here for the night, I searched around for the best place to set up my tent. I wanted to find a place that was surrounded on all sides by the trees, where I’d be fully immersed in the sights and sounds of the forest.

While I set up my tent, another small group arrived, and the guides joined forces with us to cook a big dinner together. This dinner was a special event, as there was a live lamb that they captured to slaughter and prepare. I am glad that I wasn’t aware that this was happening until after the slaughter had already taken place. Although I support the need and resourcefulness of using the island’s goats as a food source, the actual killing was not something that I would have been prepared to witness firsthand. I did, however, watch as they butchered the carcass and prepared it into stew. I was not eating meat at the time, so it wasn’t easy to watch… but as someone who had eaten meat (and would again in the future), I thought it would be a beneficial experience to see the process. In the end, the soup looked very tasty, the meat scraps were tossed to the birds, and I ate my very delicious pescatarian dinner of tuna, tomato, and quinoa soup.

After dinner I retreated to my tent, which was set in one of the most uniquely scenic campsites I have ever had the pleasure of camping in. I couldn’t actually get into my tent without first taking 100 photos to get the best shot of the tent, the trees, and the starry night sky. Socotra’s isolated location and nearly nonexistent light pollution make it a spectacular place for stargazing and astrophotography. I love my Leica M10 camera, but unfortunately its low-light capabilities are lacking. When choosing a camera to bring to Socotra, definitely bring a good low-light camera (like the Sony A7s series) and a tripod.

Waking up in the Dragon Blood tree forest wasn’t the peaceful awakening that I would have expected. Instead, at sunrise I was jarred awake by the high-pitched scream of a hundred cicadas. The sound was unbearable, a complete auditory assault. The guides have assured us that “they stop after sunrise,” but they didn’t stop. They continued all through breakfast, through packing up camp, and they carried on hours later as we drove away. 

We arrived at a large stone-walled area that contained the dragon’s blood tree nursery. This was a non-profit program started by a group of Dutch foreigners in an attempt to support the growth of new dragon blood trees. These trees have been endangered for decades, as the plants have been unable to grow because of the uncontrolled population of non-native, free-roaming goats, which eat the young plants before they have the chance to grow large enough to thrive. This nursery is surrounded by tall stone walls in hopes of keeping the goats out and allowing the young plants to grow large enough to where goats can’t eat all of their leaves. I was told that the plants need to 15 years to get to where they’re big enough to not be killed by goats. The trees out in the open don’t stand a chance at making it, and for this reason new Dragon’s Blood trees haven’t been growing for decades, or even maybe a century, on Socotr, so the trees that are currently standing will not be replaced when they reach the end of their 500-year life cycles. It’s so admirable the work that is being done by the dragon’s blood tree nursery, and I asked how I or any foreigner might contribute to the cause—but unfortunately at the time of my visit there was no way to donate online, and only cash donations in person were possible. When visiting Socotra, bring more cash than you need. As I learned, you’ll want to have the option to give donations, tips, and to pay for extra luggage fees on the way out. 

DAY 6

DETWAH LAGOON, ABDULLAH’S CAVE

The next day we visited Detwah Lagoon, a massive tidal lagoon on the north side of the island. The shallow saltwater lagoon fills and empties with the tides, and when full, the lagoon is a vibrant blue-green color. When my friend Rozz @heyrozz visited Socotra a few months before me, her stories shared a very entertaining visit and personal connection with a man who she described as “MVP of Socotra,” Abdullah the caveman. Abdullah is a humble fisherman who has spent much of his life living in a cave above the lagoon. Rafat and I waded through the bath-warm water at the low tide shore of the lagoon to Abdullah’s. His cave was in the bottom of a red rocky cliff, elevated up above the lagoon. Abdullah had really made his cave a home, with little areas leveled out to separate an area for cooking, sleeping, and sitting. We entered to a very cozy scene: a boiling teapot of water over a small wood fire, rugs and pillows laid out for guests, and a cute pet goat tied up in an upper corner of the cave. It was stepping into someone’s home, someone’s life, that has somehow remained timeless. Abdullah’s way of life in this cave could be taking place a hundred or five hundred years ago. Except for the fact that Abdullah has a cell phone—and I think also a car, and he splits his time between here and a house with his family back in a nearby town.

Abdullah welcomed us and prepared me some tea, and then we did as we do midday in Socotra—we hard chilled. I found a comfortable zone in an area of pillows and rugs, and I napped. Today was another scorching hot day, the kind of day that melts you into a horizontal puddle for a good four to six hours in the middle of the day if you don’t have A/C or cool water to keep you conscious. Hours later, when we stirred awake, we sat together, and I listened to Abdullah’s story, and I asked questions with Rafat occasionally assisting as translator. He loved to share his story, and you could tell that this wasn’t his first or second time telling it. He was funny, engaging, a born entertainer or salesman. Ripped and spry as heck, Abdullah was a shocking 75 years old. He was born in this cave and had spent his entire life living, fishing, and had even sat out a hurricane or two in this cave. Abdullah had so little, but yet such a uniquely purposeful and plentiful life. Now among the bounty that his cave on the lagoon brings him is wide-eyed foreigners stumbling in in awe and hanging on his every word. 

Abdullah presented me lunch, a carefully plated spread of seafood including crab, scallops, and fresh tomatoes and bread that Rafat had packed along for me. I remember thinking to myself, YOLO, and that I was certain that this meal would give me food poisoning. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Abdullah, but there was no sign of refrigeration in this cave, and I hadn’t the slightest idea when or where Abdullah collected this shellfish. Also fresh water? hand washing? Dishwashing? I didn’t know how any of these things could have been done to a very high standard in… a cave. But my Filipino father didn’t raise me to decline the seafood offered to me by the man who had foraged it himself. I ate the entire meal; it was very plain but good, and I’m thrilled to report that my digestion tolerated everything just fine.

By the end of our visit, a few more guides and tourists had gotten word that Abdullah was open for business, so I watched as they arrived and declined the seafood. On our way out, we went down to the lagoon, and Abdullah presented us with a sea turtle that he had corralled in the lagoon during higher tide. The other tourists excitedly held the turtle and posed for pictures, but this bit had me very sad and concerned for the turtle. I can’t imagine that being trapped in warm, almost hot, shallow water in the sun is very good for the health of a sea turtle, and I’m certain that being handled by humans is actually harmful. I don’t feel that I can criticize what is necessary for sustenance by remote cultures… but I do think it’s wrong to harm an animal for tourism entertainment purposes. I know, it’s complicated, and no disrespect to Abdullah here—he’s responding to visitors’ interest and therefore demand. It’s on us as visitors to stop creating that demand; let’s not hold and take pictures with a sea turtle. 

That afternoon we set up camp at Detwah beach within the lagoon. This beach was one of the most established camping areas, with several picnic structures, toilets, and even showers (don’t get too excited; we’re talking outhouse toilets). It felt like every tourist and group that I’d seen over the course of the week was now camped on this same beach. There were a couple dozen guides and drivers together here, and they got together to prepare the biggest feast yet. Today was a special Iftar holiday. From my understanding, this is the final breaking of the Ramadan fast, so it was a big celebration. Most of the tourist groups sat at their own dining rugs, some at tables and chairs that their guides set up for them at each campsite. But I and a couple of the other solo travelers opted instead to gather and eat with the Socotris. There was a long prayer, followed by a huge eating frenzy. Ordinarily at Iftar, the Socotri would eat only a light meal of dates and tea, but today they dug into huge piles of chicken, fish, rice, and bread. I had brought with me a can of my friend’s special wine, and I brought it out to share with the other westerners whom I’d developed a little bit of a friendship with over the course of camping together a few times throughout the week. It is religiously forbidden for devout Muslims to drink alcohol, but it’s ok for foreigners to bring it in to consume themselves. I learned that a few of the guides were not so devout and heard that they had their eyes on my wine that had been chilling in the cooler all week, but I did not offer to share, as I wasn’t sure of the morality of doing so. Dinner was delicious, and it was such a joy to share this meal together in the beautiful place with these very kind and hospitable people. I had a moment of amazement at just how incredible it is to travel so far from home to a distant and mysterious place and to have these moments of connection with people who we would never in a lifetime otherwise get to meet. To share conversations and compare interests and aspirations. To listen to people speak of their hopes and the challenges in the way. I don’t know if it’s because other cultures are different or if it’s because I am this impartial visitor passing through, but I find that I am usually able to speak to people with more honestly, more openly, and more deeply the further I travel from my own Western culture.

DAY 7

Boat TRIP

Socotra is where the desert meets the sea—a place unlike anywhere I’ve ever been. The landscapes are breathtakingly unique. On my last full day on the island, we set out by boat to explore an isolated white sand beach and, hopefully, catch a glimpse of some dolphins. Rafat had hired a local fisherman, who was off work for Ramadan, to guide us. The water was calm and brilliantly blue, and as soon as we ventured out, we spotted a massive pod of dolphins! Dozens, if not more, leapt gracefully through the air and swam alongside us. The fisherman skillfully maneuvered the boat, keeping pace so we could capture photos and videos of the dolphins both above and below the surface. We cruised past towering cliffs and scattered rocky islands, each adding to the stunning seascape.

I had brought my mask, snorkel, and fins to Socotra, so at one point, Rafat suggested I hop off the boat to snorkel. I swam around submerged rocks, where I spotted a cuttlefish and several small fish darting through the water.

Back on the boat, the fisherman opened up the throttle, speeding along the cliffs and expertly navigating under tight overhangs and into a small cave. As we approached our destination—a long stretch of pristine white sand beach—Rafat asked if I wanted to go ashore. A wide, open beach with no shade and little to see underwater wasn’t exactly my style. Instead, I spotted a tiny, secluded beach tucked beneath towering cliffs and asked if we could head there. It seemed like the perfect spot to explore and capture some stunning drone photos.

On the way back, the magic continued. Another massive pod of dolphins appeared, racing alongside the boat. I quickly grabbed my gear and jumped into the water just in time to film the dolphins swimming by beneath the surface—an unforgettable moment to cap off a beautiful day and week!

At the end of the boat trip we were greeted by a big group of kids on the beach. It was cute how thrilled the kids were to see and meet a foreigner. We exchanged a few English words that the kids knew, high-fived, and took pictures together. 

HADIBO

As the adventures of the week wound down, it was time to head back to Hadibo. That evening, Rafat had arranged for me to meet and have dinner with his family—a special opportunity that highlighted the advantage of a private tour: the chance to engage in genuine cultural experiences.

Once back in the city, we stopped by the outdoor market to pick up ingredients for dinner. The town was far more active now that evening had arrived and Ramadan had ended. The streets were alive with activity as shops spilled out onto the roads, forming an open-air market filled with spices, clothing, and housewares. Most of the sellers and shoppers were men, but there were also a few women in full niqab. The atmosphere was so vibrant and lively that I wanted to capture it all through my camera lens. However, I knew I needed to be respectful, especially of anyone who didn’t want to be photographed—particularly the women.

While walking through the market, we came across a group of kids playing in the street. To my surprise, Rafat, who I believe is 34, introduced me to one of the boys—who was his youngest brother!

Later, we visited a local craft market. At the time of my visit in April 2022, there were no typical souvenirs on Socotra, and this market, where local women sell handwoven crafts, was the only way to take a tangible piece of Socotra home. As a reminder for anyone planning to visit: cash is the only accepted form of payment on the island, and I was running quite low by that point—so be sure to bring extra if you go!

FAMILY DINNER WITH RAFAT

Rafat’s family home was more like a compound, with multiple structures built around a central dirt courtyard. I lost track of how many family members lived there. Rafat is one of ten siblings, and from what I could tell, all of them—except him—lived in the compound, along with a few of their partners and young children. In Muslim culture, men and women primarily socialize and even dine separately in different areas of the home. I spent time with the women as they made the final dinner preparations, and later, we all gathered to eat together in the courtyard. I was struck by how beautiful Rafat’s entire family was. It felt incredibly special to spend time with the women without their niqab, a rare glimpse into their private lives that made their beauty even more striking.

A family friend named Tina joined us for dinner. She was a young, blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman originally from the southern United States, working in Socotra as a linguistics teacher and expert. Tina had impressively learned to speak Socotri fluently, a rare feat considering the language is spoken less and less in favor of Arabic. Through her, I was able to sit with Rafat’s mother, Sheikha, and have a real conversation. We asked each other about the things we were most curious about in each other's cultures and lifestyles.

The funniest moment came when Sheikha asked why I had traveled all the way to Socotra just to look at the nature. Her bemused attitude was something along the lines of, “What in the world for?” Many of the places I had explored during my visit were ones she had never had the interest—or perhaps the opportunity—to visit herself.

In many cultures I’ve visited, conversations quickly turn to questions about whether I’m married and have children. When I told Sheikha that I wasn’t married but had been with my soon-to-be husband for over ten years, I could see her trying to make sense of this entirely foreign (and likely morally questionable) concept. Her friendly and inquisitive mind tried to reconcile how/why this strange, unmarried 40-year-old woman—childless yet somehow happy—had traveled to her remote island home to employ her son to show her sand dunes and random trees.

In the grand spectrum of lives lived on this earth, the westerner’s quest for beauty and adventure can indeed seem absurd. But it’s these unique cultural exchanges that give travel the depth and perspective that make the journey to far corners of the world truly worthwhile.

It’s taken me almost 3 years to write about this trip. I am a completionist and a perfectionist, which can make the task of sharing my experiences very daunting. A trip as special as this one deserved a very thorough recap… and going through the 1000s of photos I had shot with 4 different cameras (Leica M10, Fuji film, iPhone, and drone) was no small task. Three years later, going through these photos and words, I feel emotional remembering the beautiful experiences and sincere connections I felt on Socotra. Thankfully, my friend Rafat is just a DM away, so I wrote to him today to ask him how he’s doing and to be reminded of the names of some of the people I met that week so I could include their names in this post. Rafat told me he is doing well, as is his family, and he wanted me to know that he operates his own guiding business now on Socotra. So if you have any interest in visiting Socotra (as I’m sure you do after reading this post), then you can contact him directly through Instagram at @socotrarafatours. I had a great experience booking with Rocky Road Travel, and I’m sure that their tours continue to be with the best quality local guides (now that Rafat works independently).

If you’d like to see more of this and my other adventures, be sure to check out my instagram story highlights, where you can watch almost every step of this trip in videos.

@wrenees IG story highlights: Socotra Part 1

@wrenees IG story highlights: Socotra Part 2

@wrenees IG story highlights: Socotra Part 3