Kuwait

Kuwait is one of the smaller monarchies in the Persian Gulf. Aside from Kuwait City, there are only a handful of other cities in the country; vast desert expanses stretch out between them. Sandwiched between Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Iran, and the sea, this wealthy oil-producing nation lies with its flanks exposed in the midst of a region that is often politically tense.

During the Second Gulf War, Iraq invaded Kuwait and mined large parts of the country. In the Iran-Kuwait War of 2026, Kuwait once again found itself involuntarily caught in the crossfire between the fronts. And yet, Kuwait is considered a relatively safe country today – though not necessarily a classic travel destination. There is hardly any tourist infrastructure; most foreign visitors are expats working in the oil sector.

For us, Kuwait was the first Arab country we ever visited. Although we were welcomed warmly everywhere, we found ourselves in a completely different and thoroughly exciting world.

Cars in Kuwait

The morning market in Kuwait City offers a few little treasures – and quite a few curious finds. Piles of carpets tower almost to the ceiling of the hall, which offers us at least some shelter from the sun at 54 degrees in the shade. Next door, meter-long tables are lined with gold-plated and copper-colored metal goods laid out like offerings: teacups, teapots, figurines, knives, tins, coasters, coffee grinders, plates, carafes, swords, and daggers. A few steps further on, vacuum cleaners are piled high; at the next vendor, old speakers and stereo systems. And so it goes on and on – it seems that there is nothing here that isn’t to be found. Anyone looking for secondhand bargains or overpriced one-of-a-kind items will find what they’re looking for here.

After less than an hour of leisurely strolling through the market, we’re drenched in sweat and exhausted. We’re drinking water every minute, but our two-liter bottles have long since run empty. The air-conditioned interior of our car, into which we flee shortly afterward, feels like paradise – comfortably tempered at twenty degrees.

Our host Aladdin, a journalist who migrated from Egypt to Kuwait and now runs several Airbnbs, grins at us. “It’s a bit warm today, isn’t it?” Then we drive on to the next stop on our city tour.

At the Market in Kuwait

The beach is deserted – as is apparently the case everywhere. With temperatures well over fifty degrees Celsius, hardly anyone ventures outside. Even the shortest distances are covered by car. Apartments, offices, and shopping malls are air-conditioned; during the summer months, no one voluntarily leaves their cool refuge. Outdoor work is postponed until the early morning hours or the evening.

As a result, the wide streets of Kuwait City resemble a ghost town. Only the hum of thousands of air conditioners fills the air – like the furious buzz of a giant bee colony, a ceaseless background noise. It is therefore not surprising that Kuwait ranks among the countries with the highest per capita CO₂ emissions worldwide.

Not far away, the Kuwait Towers rise into the sky. The three water towers are arguably the country’s best-known – and perhaps only – landmark. On this August evening, the towers’ iconic spheres are illuminated in the colors of the Spanish flag. Two days earlier, a jihadist attacker had driven a delivery van into a crowd in Barcelona. Fourteen people were killed.

Swimming in Kuwait
Kuwait Towers
Kuwait Towers
Skyline of Kuwait City at Sunset

The setting sun casts a golden glow over the dusty evening sky above Kuwait City. To the east, over the sea, the blue night has already fallen. The skyline is lined with cranes; as in many Gulf states, constant change and the ceaseless pursuit of more and bigger things are the essence of life and the economy. Finally, with the last rays of the desert’s scorching sun, Kuwait City begins to glow with colorful lights.

The restaurants and shisha bars fill with men in white dishdashas. The fish market is now bustling as well. Old men sit on street corners, drinking tea and engaged in lively conversation. They follow our every step with sullen expressions and narrowed eyes. Women give us a wide berth, start whispering, and point at us when we film or take photos. We feel watched – and like outsiders.

We finally find a good dinner at a restaurant by the water. The temperatures have finally dropped below fifty degrees – almost pleasant, even though sweat is still dripping from every pore.

Skyline of Kuwait City at Night

By now, we have visited nearly every country in the Arabian-Persian Gulf. Of these, we found Kuwait to be by far the least touristy; gaining access to the country and its people proved the most difficult here. Kuwait City exudes far less glamour than, say, Dubai or Doha. The skyscrapers seem shorter, the desert stretches farther, the streets emptier. A strange calm lies between the glass facades, as if the city were less a stage for visitors and more a workplace for those who live and work here.

Everywhere we go, veiled eyes follow us with their gaze; everywhere we encounter people with a mixture of curiosity, reserve, and caution. The typical foreigner here is not a tourist, but an expat – an engineer, technician, or manager at one of the major oil companies. Tourists like us are rarely seen. Perhaps that is precisely where the feeling of being an outsider lies: we are not part of the routine that repeats itself every day in this city.

Kuwait doesn’t seem staged like some of its neighbors in the Gulf. There are few or no spectacular megaprojects, no artificial islands, or perfectly choreographed theme parks. And perhaps it is precisely this lack of fanfare that makes Kuwait so hard to access – and at the same time so interesting.

Info about our trip