Meet Aseel Awwad: the First Woman to Solo-Tour the Arabian Peninsula

We spend much of our lives wondering where we’re headed, what we’re meant to do, and when we’ll finally get there. Most of us fill that uncertainty with the voices of others—family, friends, advice well-meaning but not ours. It’s easier that way. Not for Aseel Awwad. The first woman to tour the Arabian Peninsula solo in her own modified car, she refused to wait for a map someone else drew. Every mile she drove, every route she charted, was her own. “And it was, in fact, all worth it,” she shares with SceneTraveller.  Aseel’s origin story starts within familiar confines: exceptional grades, a traditional Arab family, and the proverbial “choice” between medicine or engineering. “I chose engineering because I could, not because I loved it,” she explains, her tone notably free of resentment. Carrying Palestinian blood and hailing from a small Jordanian town, where she was raised by her grandmother, different blueprints for her life were not visible. Adventure was not attainable. So, she began to speak to her family in a language they understood: travel in the name of education. School exchanges and internships abroad became her Trojan horse, each departure slowly building the case for a different life. Until, finally, her family’s acceptance of her thrill-seeking was no longer a request but a fact. Her strategy ultimately led her to Dubai, where she started teaching. The profession’s three-month summer break provided the perfect scaffold of time and income as she constructed her empire of adrenaline. From then on, her resume began to read like an adventurer’s bucket list: scaling Bhutan’s Alam Peak, conquering Kilimanjaro, training at space camps, mastering endurance horse riding. “I have always been active,” she says, a profound understatement. Yet, it wasn’t until a trip to Oman’s Salalah, where the proximity of Yemen—a mere two hours away—became a tangible temptation, that the adrenaline rush of penetrating countries portrayed as forbidden, of embarking on adventures others deem too daunting, took hold of her. She began by building her own stage: a car modified two years ago into what she calls “The Beast.” This was not a casual project but a year-long manifesto of self-reliance. “My goal was to live anywhere without needing anyone.” The Beast was outfitted as a complete, mobile ecosystem—equipped with everything from a water system and solar power to a winch and reinforced skid plates. It carries her diving gear, her hiking boots, and supplies for weeks of remote travel. It is, in essence, her armour, her home, and her passport, all in one. “It’s where I have lived both my happiest and hardest moments.” The Beast is also what eventually got her to Yemen, as she had wanted from the very start.  After an excruciating visa-process, which took two months and cost a fortune, Awwad made history as the first woman to do this with a motorhome. “I wanted to show the world that Arab women can break even the hardest of bureaucratic boundaries.” Not only that, but as soon as her Yemeni followers found out she had embarked on her journey, they travelled at length to meet her, extending gracious invitations to their cities and ultimately shaping her route. What started as a plan to visit Aden soon became a spontaneous three-week trip to rural towns and cities like Hadramaut and Wadi Dawan where she was surprised by views of ancient skyscrapers and caves where humans first lived. What fueled her throughout was a need to control the narrative long monopolised by Western media. “Nobody knows our stories. Nor do they know about the beautiful nature and complex history our lands have to offer.” Naturally, Yemen made Awwad feel invincible, and gave her the motivation to continue her four-month long journey, checking off Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Iraq, where she was pampered with food, petrol, and even five-star hotel stays. “I have never met a kinder people.” Yet, despite the generosity she found along the way, Awwad’s hardships were far from behind her. A fact that became especially clear when, one night, officers woke her at her mountainside camp, which was, in fact, an infamous spot for cartel meet-ups. After an unfazed Awwad rode with the officers to their military base, it was on to Bahrain and Qatar as planned.  A few more long drives through mountain dunes here, a couple of faith-restoring encounters with strangers there, and Awwad was finally ready to return to Dubai. Her four-month pilgrimage of endurance had come to a resounding end, and with it, her possible return to teaching. Instead, she adopted the philosophy of “adventure as a lifestyle”, dedicating all her time to her travel initiative, Aseel Adventures. Today, she helps travellers experience the same electrifying thrill and unparalleled sense of freedom she found on her adventures.  And, of course, she never loses sight of her core mission: to “see Arab women flourish.” For Aseel, dismantling the tired dichotomy forced upon women—the idea that they must choose between being feminine and being strong—is essential. As she sees it, there are no limitations, no restrictions. Except, perhaps, for one. “They say home is where the heart is, and my heart is in Palestine.” For a woman who has crossed countless borders and broken through barrier after barrier, the final frontier feels almost paradoxical in its simplicity: finding her way back home. And until that day comes, Aseel will keep moving, carrying home with her, wherever the road leads.