Stars and City Lights: A Journey to Jebel Hafeet

The stunning beauty of the United Arab Emirates' mountains doesn’t just stop in the north—it stretches all the way to the southern edge of the country. Nestled near the border with Oman is Jebel Hafeet, the second highest peak in the UAE. As soon as I learned about it, my love for all things mountainous had me itching to pack my bags. After my incredible experience at Jebel Jais in Ras Al Khaimah, I knew I had to make my way to Al Ain and see what Jebel Hafeet had in store. Spoiler alert: it didn’t disappoint.

I have to admit, I always thought Dubai was clean, but after seeing the peaceful, spotless streets of Al Ain, I was in for a surprise. My dad’s friend joked, “This place is so clean you could eat off the floor.” Don’t worry—we didn’t test that theory—but honestly, he wasn’t far off. Mosques seemed to grace every corner, and as we made our way to Jebel Hafeet, I could hear the Adhaan echoing in the distance. It had been months since I’d heard it so clearly, and the peaceful sound brought everything to a gentle, tranquil halt.

It was around 8 p.m. as we made our way to the mountain, and from a distance, the winding road up Jebel Hafeet was lit with yellowish lights, giving it a snake-like appearance as it slithered upwards. Since it was dark, the surrounding peaks were hidden in the shadows, making it look like the lights were floating in mid-air. The effect was mesmerizing—like driving toward a glowing, magical path suspended in the night sky. An absolutely stunning view!

As we reached the base of the mountain, we started our ascent up the winding road. This had to be one of the most unique mountain drives I’ve ever experienced. The road felt like it had been literally carved into the mountains, hugging every curve and bend. The streetlights were just bright enough to reveal brief glimpses of the rocky surroundings before we curved again, the headlights catching new parts of the mountain. About halfway up, I glanced over my shoulder and caught sight of the city lights twinkling in the distance. With the windows down, the cool breeze brushed against my face, and I got a sneak peek of the dazzling view waiting for me at the top. Of course, that’s when my brain decided to toss out a wild thought: "Wouldn't it be amazing to jump off from here... with a parachute, obviously!" In reality, I’ve always dreamed of flying throughmountainous terrain in a wingsuit, like those daredevils on YouTube like 'Dom.e Wingsuit'. Unfortunately, I think you need years of flight experience to attempt something like that.

On our way up, we passed a hotel near the summit, and to my surprise, there were way more people than I had expected at the top. As I walked toward the gated edge, I glanced to my left and saw a family casually kicking around a football, while others were seated at picnic tables, enjoying dinner with a view. To my right, there was an entire children's playground—on a mountaintop! At that moment, I realised something: Arabs will build anything, anywhere. Mountains? No problem! They’ll pop a playground right on top. As I approached the edge, the city lights started to peek through, until suddenly, the whole breathtaking panorama unraveled before me.

The view from the mountain peak at night was absolutely breathtaking. Picture this: standing at the summit, wrapped in the warm night air, with the city sprawling below you like a glittering tapestry. The lights twinkled like stars, some much brighter and bigger than others, hinting at skyscrapers in the distance. It was then I realised—we were much farther away than I had thought. The streets were lined with moving headlights and streetlamps, creating thin, bright lines across the landscape. But then, in certain areas, there was complete darkness—no lights at all. My guess? A lake or some other body of water. Even though I was miles away, I couldn't help but feel a tiny chill thinking about what it would be like to suddenly be dropped into that inky black water. Weird phobia, I know... don’t judge me! But imagine this: one minute you're chilling in your bed, and the next, you're hurtling through the gas clouds of Jupiter! No? Just me? Alright then, carry on.

Being so high up, and with the lack of air pollution in this part of the city, I could actually see the stars in the sky more clearly. It almost felt like a mirror image—the twinkling lights of the city below and the sparkling stars above, as if the sky and earth were reflecting each other. It was a striking contrast between nature’s beauty above and the man-made beauty below.

I’ve always been fascinated by the moon. There’s something so captivating about it—the way it changes shapes, casting its soft glow over the world each night. Naturally, I searched for it and quickly spotted it, bathing the entire scene in a silvery light. From up here, the sounds of the city were muted, leaving only the faint laughter of kids playing behind me in the playground. It felt like we were separated from the rest of the world, perched high above, just watching it "exist." What was happening in every corner, on every road, down every street below? I had no idea, but from this vantage point, it all looked magical.

And once again, I couldn’t help but think: Arabs will build anything, anywhere.