The road followed the coast a few miles inland, the terrain a bit more mountainous, after trekking along the roadside until well into the night I was picked up by a man and his family in their little red Honda. He asked where I was going and I explained I was on my way to the Yemen border, as luck would have it, he lived walking distance from the last checkpoint before entering Yemen.

I jumped in and he offered me something to drink, his English was broken, my Arabic still under construction, but we managed to make light conversation: I explained how I had walked from Abu Dhabi and the length of his country; he thought I was crazy.

After getting stamped out, I was lucky enough to meet a man heading into Yemen, a rich man who spoke English. My last Omani friend waved goodbye, and told me this man would take care of me from here out. The border was heavily guarded and fortified, fifteen foot chainlink fences with razor ribbon around them, and just a few feet on the other side Yemeni nationals were sleeping, I walked through the gate and got into a truck with my new friend. His English wasnt as good as my last host, but we were able to make a few exchanges.

The difference between Oman and Yemen was night and day, the lights in the distance were dim, and flickering, the lights behind me, bright and powerful. I had a moment to assess my choice, and it wasnt too late to turn back, but I really wanted to be here, and took that mindset further into Yemen. After driving down towards the coast the truck stopped at what looked like a hotel, a few insomniac businessmen roaming around taking stock of me, and leering as if I was some sort of oddity.

The immigration official was a short man with a thick mustache, his shirt unbuttoned and boots missing laces, they did things a bit differently here in Yemen. After a minor ordeal with immigration about one of my pages in my passport being torn they sent me on my way, as we piled back into the truck, myself and two others, we stopped at a small gatehouse, minus the gate. And spoke with the man there, he handed us each an assault rifle resembling an AK47.

My eyes probably bugged out of my head, but it was too dark to notice, things were much different on this side of the border. The men on either side of me removed their clips, checked the ammunition and placed the clips back into their rifles and pulled back the bolts, ready for action! We cruised along a seaside road towards a clump of lights on the coast, when we arrived the scene was quite grim, buildings halved by explosions, bullet holes and rubble everywhere, roofs missing, bare light bulbs dangling from their cords flickered in windows.

The truck made its way up to a well lit structure which I found out later was the police station, an open air square arena, lined with rows of beds in the courtyard, my companions got out and told me to remain in the truck, when they came back bringing more guns I couldnt help but wonder what was going to happen next. They piled the guns into the bed of the truck and we began to navigate the maze of leveled buildings, we came to rest outside a house, some light snuck through a crack in the massive steel doors, the driver honked the horn and the doors slid open, another man came out, and the two or three that had accompanied me got out of the truck, the man I met at the border told me that this new man would take care of me and that he would see that I got to a hotel before the night was over. The men emptied the guns out of the trunk and left 2 in the vehicle with me and my new driver.

He propped them up in between us, the barrels facing the roof and introduced himself, he spoke next to no English and again my Arabic was still in its infancy. We left my companions and got out on the main road, heading along the coast; it was hard for me to stay awake, even with all the excitement of the day I was pretty tired from walking ten hours earlier. The next time I woke up we were still driving but in the middle of the road was a flashing light, as we grew nearer and slowed down I could see a man in all white with a cape and goggles standing in the middle of the road holding a lantern switching it on and off, as the truck stopped the man picked up his rifle and approached the window.

As he did on either side of the truck the ground  began to move, two men - one on each side - flung off blankets and came up to the window, the driver spoke with them and soon all 3 were in the back of the truck and we were moving again. I began to doze off again and caught myself trying to keep my head up. I cant be sure how much time passed but when I woke up I was in a city, a city I still to this day cannot identify, the lights on the larger buildings near the city center kept my attention, soon we were stopped and I was at what looked to be the only hotel in the city. I thanked my driver, shook hands and was led inside.

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