Nothing compares to Makkah

What do I write about a city that has had its story told a thousand times over? How can I explain how I felt when I entered the city that I had dreamed about for so long? How do I even make sense of the feeling of seeing the Holy Kaaba in person for the first time?

These are the questions that confounded me when preparing this post. It seemed almost inappropriate to be posting about Makkah at all, because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to encapsulate my entire experience in one, or even two, humble posts.

Nevertheless, I knew that I wanted to somehow write about Makkah, and that I couldn’t simply leave it out of my writing work. I had already published a vlog about my umrah, the pilgrimage to Makkah, so perhaps it was time to write, five months after the fact, about the standout memories and moments from my trip to the centre of the Muslim world.

Praying in the streets

This is no major surprise to anyone who has travelled to Muslim countries, but to be right in the centre of the geography of the faith is something altogether different. Nearly everyone in Makkah except those born there has been brought there by religion; even if a person is working in a cafe, it’s mostly likely pilgrims who pay their wages.

This is in fact what led, indirectly and in part, to the city’s renaming. “Makkah” is not only closer to the city’s proper Arabic pronunciation, but it’s also a move away from the English spelling Mecca, which is now a byword for anywhere that attracts a huge crowd (from “a shopping Mecca” to a “Mecca for drug addicts” – there’s no limit on the usage of this word in English, and little consideration for the sanctity of the actual place).

By definition, all of the inhabitants of Makkah must be Muslim, and at prayer time in the immediate surrounds of the Grand Mosque the city simply stops dead in its tracks and begins praying.

Prayer takes place everywhere; people simply line up on the streets, partly that being the place where they were at the time of the azan (call to prayer), partly that being as good a place as any when they’re standing on hallowed turf, and partly that just being the next row out as the mosque’s congregation spills out on to the surrounding streets.

The other thing which was incredible to witness was the tight curves in which the lines were formed; usually mosques outside of Makkah have just one tangent line to pray along (the Qibla); radii on a giant circle around the kaaba which spreads out across the world. Due to the proximity to the kaaba, in Makkah the lines form distinct arcs, even a couple of hundred metres outside the mosque.

The Grand Mosque; grand yet utilitarian

The Grand Mosque of Makkah is grand; there are no two ways about it, however it’s also surprisingly utilitarian.

Having already visited the Prophet’s Mosque in Madinah, it is tempting to compare the two. While Madinah’s central place of worship is a glorious gilded affair, Makkah’s mosque is somehow simpler; probably a result of years upon years of intensive use by millions of pilgrims, and also probably a result of continuous (and ongoing) reconstruction efforts to cater to those pilgrims.

The spectacle of the Kaaba bowled me over

You expect it to be amazing, and it is – in every single way.

The views at night time, across the harem area towards the new clock tower building are simply incredible. Divisive though that giant building is, it can never take away from the glory of what goes on at its base; the tawaf (circumambulation) of the kaaba by thousands of faithful at any one time.

Makkah is very much a modern functioning city

Ok, so this one shouldn’t come as any major surprise; millions of pilgrims can’t turn up to nowhere. However what is often left out of the discussion is how significant a city Makkah is aside from its stature as a centre of faith.

Makkah is the third-most populous city in Saudi Arabia, and facilities exist for the approximately two million permanent residents; as well as being a city of pilgrims, it’s a place of commerce and trade, tall office blocks and shopping malls, motorways and huge tunnels through the rugged rocky hills which famously ripple through the suburbs. The only thing missing is an airport – that’s in Jeddah, 70 kilometres away (presumably the rugged rocky terrain, combined with huge security obstacles mean that there won’t be any planes landing in Makkah any time soon).

It’s not that I thought that Makkah wouldn’t have any of this; it’s that beyond the significance of the kaaba and the Grand Mosque, I (like many others) simply hadn’t thought about it.

The valley at Mina and the plains at Arafat are vast and lonely out of Hajj season

Again, it’s not exactly breaking news that the areas which are visited on hajj are quiet out of hajj time, but what is surprising is just how lonely and deserted they are.

Like, if you wanted a place to do burnouts in your car (and, presumably, had no appreciation for the sanctity of the place), then this would be it. When we visited there was literally no-one for kilometres.

And that’s the other thing – it goes on for kilometres. Considering the number of pilgrims it caters for, it should. The tent city of mina is a sight to behold – identical tent roofs as far as the eye can see, and scattered like piece of lego throughout the adjacent valleys and seemingly every crevasse in the mountain range.

The only place where there were signs of life was at the mount of Arafat, which is spiritually significant even outside of hajj season; this is the place where Adam and Eve were apparently reunited after they fell from heaven, where the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ delivered his final sermon to the world.

Nothing can ever prepare you for approaching the kaaba for the first time

You’ve heard it before, but it’s true – nothing can prepare you for seeing the kaaba for the first time. It feels like it happens too soon – you approach from the forecourt of the Grand Mosque, through the building, and then suddenly it’s right there.

By the time I had joined the tawaf (circumambulation) I had tears silently streaming down my face, but I hardly even realised I was crying. It’s simply such a sensory overload – the spiritual, the visual… even the smell of the rose-fragranced water used to wash the kaaba.

I begin the tawaf, and in almost no time it was over… it all seems to happen so quickly. In fact no amount of time would probably have been enough. I kept having to remind myself to be mindful of what I was doing, not to get so swept up in the moment that I would forget it entirely. I still don’t know how much of what I remember is real and how much is simply a dream.

Everywhere you turn, there is significance; Ibrahim’s (Abraham’s) footprints, the black stone, the golden spout to carry blessed rainwater off the kaaba‘s roof… walking felt like being carried by another force as I drifted around and around…

Nothing compares to Makkah

Late one afternoon my friend Ragi (a Makkah local) and I climbed Jabal Noor, the hill in the suburbs of Makkah where it is said that the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was sitting in a small cave, deep thought one night when he began to receive his revelations from Allah.

The ascent is one to wreck your legs, but reaching the top feels like being on top of the world.

The Hira Cave isn’t exactly at the top – it’s a small niche formed by leaning boulders about ten metres below the southern face of its peak. We clambered down, read a few supplications, then sat and watched as the sun set over the most incredible city in the world.

Is Makkah my favourite city in the world? I don’t know. I love Lahore, Paris and Tokyo, but Makkah is commensurable. To compare Makkah to other cities is missing the point; Makkah is not a city like others. The gravity, the vividness with which my experience there is etched in my memory, and what made it special to me are all unparalleled. And perhaps that is what daunted me most about putting this article together.

There is, quite simply, no place like Makkah.

Have you been to Makkah? Or perhaps another city that defies comparison? Tell us more – comment below!