Kuwait City

There are few ways more memorable-or bafflingly badass-to spend an afternoon in Jahra than watching elegant birds of prey hurtle through the sky at terrifying speeds, then nonchalantly returning to perch on a leather-gloved hand, looking smugly satisfied with themselves. Falconry, that astonishingly aristocratic Middle Eastern pastime once favored by Bedouin nomads and wealthy sheikhs alike, has been practiced in the Arabian Peninsula for over 4,000 years-long before anyone thought Netflix binges were a sensible way to spend weekends. Aim to join a demonstration early in the morning or just before dusk, when these feathered assassins are most impressive (and photogenic). Reserve your spot at least a week in advance, and expect to shell out between $50-$100 USD per person, which, honestly, isn't terrible considering you're watching nature's top-tier predators flap inches above your head. Bring sunglasses, sunscreen, and water, to survive Jahra's unyielding sun, along with a camera-because selfies never look cooler than with a falcon glaring menacingly at you from your arm. Above all, falconry demonstrations are worth attending simply because there's nothing quite like casually dropping into conversation that time you spent face-to-beak with the desert's most regal hunters.

There aren't many places you can stroll casually among Bronze Age ruins one minute and dodge the enthusiastic goats of a sleepy fishing village the next-but Failaka Island cheerfully offers both. Sitting just an hour-long ferry ride from Kuwait City's bustling shoreline, this tiny, history-laden outcrop saw everyone from Mesopotamian merchants to Alexander the Great's foot soldiers pass through-though presumably they didn't leave behind quite as many disposable water bottles. Your guide, probably named Ahmed and almost certainly armed with a droll sense of humor, will eagerly share tales of ancient Dilmun civilization, abandoned Greek temples, and a quirky yet oddly captivating set of rusted tanks-remnants of more recent and rather less charming invasions. Get there early, because Failaka's sunrise turns beige stones to pure gold (and, anyway, you'll beat the midday sun, which is less "picturesque" and more "oven broiler"). Plan about a week or two ahead, as ferry spots go faster than shawarma at lunchtime, and budget around 20 KD ($65) including transportation, refreshments, and whatever shady souvenir antiquities you impulsively haggle for. Bring along sunscreen, sturdy hiking shoes, and your finest Indiana Jones hat, if only to make your Instagram followers envious. Even if your archaeological interests tire quickly and you're left staring blankly at pieces of broken pottery, Failaka Island promises unforgettable charm, surreal contrasts, and enough quirky tales of history and goats to keep your dinner companions entertained for weeks.

Camping in Kuwait's Salmi Desert isn't merely sleeping outdoors-it's willingly submitting yourself overnight to the whims of nature on acres of endlessly shifting sand, where Bedouins once navigated by stars long before GPS made everyone lazy. Arrive an hour before sunset, armed with ample water, sturdy tents, and snacks that won't crunch too loudly (lest you offend the desert's profound nighttime silence). Don't skimp on blankets, because despite the daytime sun's bravado, nighttime desert temperatures drop faster than a reality TV star's popularity. Budget about 20 Kuwaiti dinars per person for the essential comforts-firewood, shisha perhaps, and decent coffee-to elevate the experience from mere "sleeping rough" to "sand dune chic." Go between November and March for temperatures that won't scorch you to medium-well, and book a guided local outfit at least a couple of weeks ahead unless you're Bear Grylls or have an incurable fondness for getting lost. Even if your tent blows away at midnight or sand infiltrates every crevice of your belongings, enduring a night beneath a vast, star-studded Arabian sky in the Salmi Desert makes for unmatched bragging rights and an irreverent anecdote you'll gleefully retell at dinner parties for years.

At first glance, bird-watching in Kuwait might seem as delightfully unexpected as finding a Michelin-starred sushi joint in Nebraska, yet Jahra Pools Nature Reserve defies all feathered expectations. On the dusty outskirts of Jahra lies an oasis, teeming with flamboyantly plumed guests-from elegant flamingos that strut as though auditioning for Paris Fashion Week, to irritable-looking herons, the ornithological equivalents of cranky gourmet chefs. The real spectacle occurs near sunrise, when the first golden slivers of daylight ignite the pools and the sky fills with flocks of migratory birdlife in transit mode-think Heathrow Airport at rush hour, minus the overpriced coffee. Plan to arrive painfully early (insomnia helps), and bring binoculars, sturdy shoes, insect repellent, snacks, and a good sense of humor. Budgeting here is delightfully minimal-entry is often free, generously subsidized by nature-but reserve your visit a week ahead if you're hoping to snag a guided tour. Ultimately, the joy of bird-watching at Jahra Pools goes beyond ticking feathered friends off checklist apps; it gives you bragging rights to having traversed marshy terrain at ungodly hours, just to glimpse a rare migratory bird that couldn't care less about your existence. And isn't that alone worth the price of admission?