Billions into the mud?

“Billions into the mud” – it’s the first thing that comes to mind when you look at these monumental, clay walls rising straight out of the sand. But when you stand there, in the very heart of Ad-Diriyah, during the golden hour of Ramadan, the answer comes on its own, simple and ruthless to the cynics: identity is worth any price.

We arrived at 5:00 PM. The sun was already low, turning the harsh white of the day into a honeyed, thick shade of gold. This isn’t just a matter of aesthetics. For a landscape architect, it’s the moment of truth – the moment when light either exposes every flaw or turns a simple place into magic. Here, in At-Turaif, the latter happened. But the magic of Ad-Diriyah doesn’t come out of thin air. It comes from an almost obsessive attention to detail.

The scale doesn't take your breath away; the precision does. You walk for miles among restored palaces and won't find a single accidental element. There’s no room for a neglected garden or random metal railings. Instead, there are simple fences made of wood and rope. And it is there, in that raw weave, that you find what is hardest to capture: the "truth" hidden in a piece of rope.

Everything here is thought out, balanced, grown into the landscape of Wadi Hanifah with a humility often lacking in modern metropolises. As a designer, I look at this with reverent admiration – someone here was able to brilliantly design the "silence" between buildings. This silence is not a void; it is a breath of history that allows the architecture to resonate fully.

As night fell, the walls took on depth. Warm, precisely placed illuminations brought out the texture of the dried mud and straw. Then, something else happened. From hidden speakers came the steady, dull thud of horse hooves. That sound, combined with the narrow, winding streets, made time stand still. You could feel that suspended time in the air, those ancient emotions. For a moment, it seemed as if the shadow of ancient lovers, silent in official chronicles, would emerge from around the corner. An old jar by the well stopped being a prop; it became a silent witness to the life that once pulsated here.

But the most important thing came with the sunset. We arrived during Ramadan, and that was a crucial decision. It was then, in the midst of these historical ruins, that we felt the true magic of celebration. It is not walls that build a national community – it is people. But these walls provide them with a frame.

We saw entire families feasting at great tables set on the Bujairi Terrace. It’s a rare sight: modernity bowing respectfully to tradition, and luxury meeting authentic hospitality. After miles of sightseeing, resting in one of these restaurants was the culmination of the entire experience.

Ad-Diriyah: Where Identity Meets Landscape Architecture This reportage explores the intersection of Saudi Arabia's heritage and its modern transformation through the eyes of a landscape architect. Beyond the monumental mud-brick walls of At-Turaif lies a profound lesson in "designing silence" and the "truth of materials." By analyzing the contrast between the public austerity of Riyadh and the vibrant, sensory-rich private lives of its people, the author reveals how the restoration of Ad-Diriyah serves as a strategic return to national roots, reclaiming a cultural identity that predates decades of fundamentalism. It is a story of how architecture and community bating together to create a new, authentic soul for a nation.