Doha

Doha is young as a capital and old as a place. Before the oil age the site was a cluster of fishing and pearling villages on the east coast of the Qatar peninsula, and in the 19th century the main one was known as Al Bidda. The peninsula had no rivers and almost no farmland, so life here meant the sea: pearl banks in the summer, fishing and dhow trade the rest of the year, and small caravans that brought sheep, wool and ghee in from the desert.

Power in the region was contested. The Al Khalifa family ruled Bahrain and claimed the Qatari coast; the Ottomans held a garrison at Doha from 1871 until 1915; and Britain, which policed the Gulf for its route to India, mostly cared about ending piracy and keeping the peace at sea. After a conflict between Bahrain and the Qatari towns in 1867 and 1868, the British treated Qatar as separate from Bahrain and recognised Muhammad bin Thani of the Al Thani family as its leading figure. That is the start of the modern state.

His son, Sheikh Jassim bin Mohammed Al Thani, is remembered as the founder. In 1893 his forces beat an Ottoman column at the Battle of Al Wajbah, just outside today's Doha, and although the Ottomans stayed on paper for two more decades the Al Thani were now the real authority. In 1916, with the Ottoman Empire gone from the Gulf, Qatar signed a treaty that made it a British protectorate; foreign affairs passed to Britain, and the family kept the inside of the country.

The 1930s were hard. The world depression cut demand for pearls, and cultured pearls from Japan finished the trade; many divers were in debt and left. Oil, found at Dukhan on the west coast in 1939 and first shipped in 1949, turned that around. In 1971 Britain withdrew from the Gulf and Qatar became fully independent on 3 September. The giant offshore North Field, found the same year, later made Qatar one of the world's largest exporters of liquefied natural gas.

Since the 1990s the story has been about rapid change. Al Jazeera started here in 1996, the Emir's court funded museums and a university district, and in 2010 Qatar won the right to host the FIFA World Cup, which it did in November and December 2022. Between June 2017 and January 2021 Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Bahrain and Egypt cut land, sea and air links with Qatar; the country turned to Turkey and Iran for routes and to its own farms and ports, and the dispute ended with an agreement signed at Al Ula. Visitors today see the result: a capital that is only a few decades old in its current form, and very conscious of building a story.

Until the 1930s pearls were the country's main business. From about June to September, when the water was warm enough, dhows left the coast for weeks at a time. Each boat had a captain (the nokhada), divers (ghawwas) who went down on one breath with a nose clip and a stone weight, and pullers (saib) who hauled them up. There were no wages: a share of the catch went to the captain, and advances taken before the season often left a crew in debt for life.

The industry ended fast. The Great Depression cut demand, and Japanese cultured pearls undercut natural ones; by the 1940s the banks were empty of buyers. That is why the oil years matter so much in Doha's story, and why the city's older residents speak about the 1950s and 1960s as the time when money first arrived.

Oil and then gas changed the balance. Oil exports began in 1949 and paid for the first schools, roads and hospitals. Gas was the bigger prize. The North Field, shared under the sea with Iran's South Pars, is often described as the largest gas field in the world. From the late 1990s Qatar built liquefaction plants at Ras Laffan, north of Doha, and it now sells liquefied natural gas by tanker to buyers in Asia and Europe. That income is why a small country with about three million people can run a national airline, a sovereign wealth fund and a museum programme.

The other side of the economy is labour. Roughly nine in ten residents are foreign workers, from South Asia, the Philippines, East Africa and the Arab world, and they staff the building sites, hotels, shops and taxis. Under the older sponsorship system an employer controlled a worker's exit and job changes, and human-rights groups documented abuse and unpaid wages, especially in the construction boom before 2022. From 2020 Qatar changed its rules so that most workers no longer need permission to change jobs or leave and introduced a minimum wage; how well these rules work in practice is still debated, and visitors will hear both views.

What a visitor sees is a service economy at work. The person who drives your taxi, cooks your lunch or cleans your room is very likely a migrant worker, and small kindnesses matter: a tip, a greeting, a fair price, and the habit of not haggling hard with a cafeteria cook. The same economy explains why Doha's food is so international, why cheap cafeterias serve dal and biryani beside karak, and why the city changes character with the season: in summer many residents leave, and in winter the museums, beaches and souq fill again.

Pearling is not entirely gone. A few boats still dive for oysters as heritage, the Corniche keeps a dhow harbour, and the Katara Traditional Dhow Festival in November re-enacts the pearling season with boats, songs and crafts. Watching it is the closest a visitor can get to the world Doha came from.

Almost everything a first-time visitor photographs in Doha was built in the last twenty years. That gives the city a coherent look, and a set of buildings that each tell part of the same story: a small state using architecture to explain what it wants to be.

The Museum of Islamic Art, opened in 2008, is the anchor. It was designed by I. M. Pei, then in his 90s, who came out of retirement for the job and spent months travelling through the Islamic world before choosing a site. The museum stands on its own artificial island off the Corniche so that nothing can be built beside it. Pei drew on the fountain in the courtyard of the 9th-century Ibn Tulun mosque in Cairo, and the limestone, the cube-on-cube massing and the stepped dome all repeat that idea. Inside, objects from Spain to India are shown in a way that is calm rather than crowded.

The National Museum of Qatar, opened in 2019, is a different sort of building. Jean Nouvel modelled it on the desert rose, the crystal that forms in salty sand, and the result is a cluster of large, tilted discs that seem to have grown from the ground. It wraps around the restored palace of Sheikh Abdullah bin Jassim Al Thani, which dates from 1901 and was home to the ruler and later a museum, so old and new are joined. The galleries tell the story of the land, the sea and the oil years, with film on the walls.

Msheireb Downtown, close to the souq, is a planned district built on the site of an older neighbourhood. Some houses were kept and turned into the Msheireb Museums; the lanes between them are shaded, narrow and lined with new buildings that borrow the old scale. The idea was a compact, walkable centre that works with the climate rather than fighting it, and the metro interchange sits underneath.

Katara Cultural Village, opened in 2010, mixes performance and faith: an amphitheatre for a few thousand people, an opera house, galleries, and two mosques that are decoration on a large scale, one in blue and purple tile and one in gold mosaic. The Pearl-Qatar, on reclaimed land further north, borrows from Venice and the Riviera, with a marina, arcades and canals, and it is a residential district more than a sight.

West Bay's towers, mostly built from the 1990s to the 2010s, show another Doha again, the global business city, and beyond them Lusail is a whole new city built for the World Cup. The Education City campus, with the Qatar National Library by Rem Koolhaas, joins universities from several countries.

A simple way to read Doha is by decade: the old dhows and souq, the 1970s to 1990s concrete town, then the 2000s to 2020s statement buildings. The metro, opened in 2019, links many of them, and its stations are a small architecture tour in themselves.

Souq Waqif means the standing market. The usual explanation is that the sellers stood, without shops, on the banks of a dry riverbed, the Wadi Musheireb, and sold to Bedouin families who came in from the desert to trade sheep, wool, ghee and dates for rice, cloth and tools. Whatever the origin, the souq was the centre of old Doha, and in the 20th century, as the city moved to new streets and malls, the old buildings decayed.

In the 2000s the state restored the souq to look like an earlier version of itself. Concrete was stripped away, buildings were rebuilt in mud-coloured render with wooden beams, and the lanes were paved. The result is not an untouched relic; it is a careful rebuild, and worth knowing about, because it explains why it feels tidy. Even so it works as a real market, with shops that sell spices, incense, textiles, tools and gold, and it is where many Doha families come in the evenings.

Several markets sit inside the main one. The spice lanes are the best introduction: pyramids of saffron, dried limes, cardamom and cinnamon, bags of dates and blocks of incense. The gold and jewellery shops sell by weight at the day's rate plus a making charge. Perfume shops sell oud, the resinous wood that Gulf perfumers blend into oils, and it is worth trying a few before you buy. The Falcon Souq is a small district with perches, hoods and equipment for falconry, a tradition tied to desert hunting and now a national symbol; the nearby falcon hospital treats birds and arranges visits.

The rhythm of the day matters. Shops open in the morning, then many close for the midday heat and reopen around 16:00, staying open until 22:00 or later. After the sun goes down the terraces fill: families with children, groups of friends, couples, visitors, and Qataris who come for tea and shisha. On Friday, shops close for the midday prayer and reopen in the afternoon, and Thursday and Friday evenings are the busiest.

Bargaining is expected in the small shops but is gentle. A first price is often 30 to 50 per cent above what settles; smile, ask for a better price once or twice, and if you do not agree, thank the seller and walk on. Compare two shops for saffron, gold and perfume. Do not haggle over food in a restaurant or in a mall, where prices are fixed.

The etiquette is simple. Dress modestly, ask before photographing anyone, do not touch the birds without permission, and accept a coffee or a sweet with the right hand if it is offered. Alcohol is not served in the souq, which is one reason it is so comfortable for families, and one of its charms for visitors who want a slow evening rather than a bar.

Doha's food has three layers. The oldest is Qatari and Gulf: rice, dates, fish, lamb, chicken and spices carried by the pearl and spice trade. The second is the region's cooking, Lebanese, Syrian, Yemeni, Persian and Egyptian, brought by migrants and businesses over the last fifty years. The third is the cooking of the expatriate workforce, above all South Asian and Filipino, which fills the cafeterias and is often the best value in the city.

Machboos, sometimes written majboos, is the national dish: rice cooked with lamb, chicken or fish, tomatoes, onion, dried lime and a spice blend that usually includes cardamom, turmeric and cinnamon. It is served on a big platter, and it is meant to be shared. Mandi, from Yemen, uses meat cooked slowly in a pit or oven, and the rice takes on a smoky flavour. Harees is a porridge of wheat and meat that is beaten until smooth and is common in Ramadan and at weddings. Thareed is bread soaked in a meat and vegetable stew, and madrouba is a thick spiced rice porridge with chicken.

Breakfast is its own tradition. Balaleet is sweet vermicelli with saffron and cardamom, topped with an omelette, and it looks strange until you taste it. Chebab are thin sweet pancakes with date syrup. Khubz, the bread, comes fresh from tandoor ovens all over town. Fish is a Gulf staple; hamour (grouper) is the well-known local fish, grilled, or cooked with rice.

Drinks matter as much as dishes. Arabic coffee, or gahwa, is light, cardamom-scented and served in small cups with dates; if you want more, hold the cup out, and if you have had enough, shake it gently. Karak, the sweet cardamom tea boiled with milk, came from the subcontinent and became the national street drink, sold in tiny cups for a riyal or two at counters everywhere. Juices, laban (salted yoghurt) and lemon-and-mint drinks fill the gaps where beer would be elsewhere.

Sweets are a large part of hospitality. Luqaimat are small fried dough balls in date syrup, dates come filled or plain, and a plate of sweets often arrives with coffee. Ramadan brings its own patterns: at sunset the fast is broken with dates and water, and then a big meal, iftar, with harees, samosas, soups, grilled meat and desserts.

For a visitor the practical rules are simple. Lunch is the main meal, and at Souq Waqif the best time for machboos is before 15:00 when the pots are fresh. The cheapest good food is in cafeterias, where a paratha and karak can cost under QAR 10. Higher-end restaurants in hotels serve alcohol and cost far more. Service is often added to the bill, so check before tipping. Eat with the right hand or a spoon, share the platter, and say no politely if you are full.

Qatar is a conservative Muslim country, and much of what surprises visitors comes from that. The call to prayer sounds five times a day from mosques all over Doha. Prayer times follow the sun, so they move through the year and are published in newspapers and apps. Many shops close for a short time at prayer, especially the midday prayer on Friday, when the streets go quiet and stay that way until the early afternoon.

The weekend is Friday and Saturday. Friday morning is slow; families go out in the late afternoon and evening, and Thursday night is the busiest evening for restaurants and the souq. Government offices and banks run in the morning; malls stay open until late.

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic year and moves about eleven days earlier each Gregorian year. From dawn to sunset Muslims fast, and visitors are asked not to eat, drink or smoke in public in daylight. Many restaurants close by day, opening again at sunset; some hotels serve meals to non-Muslim guests out of public view. Office hours shorten. After dark the city comes alive with iftar tents, late shopping and family visits. Eid al-Fitr ends the month with a public holiday of several days.

The rules for visitors are strict but not hard to follow. Dress modestly: shoulders and knees covered for both men and women, in malls, museums and the souq. Swimwear belongs on the beach and at the hotel pool. Public displays of affection are not accepted, for couples of any kind. Alcohol is served only in licensed hotel bars and restaurants, and you cannot buy it in shops as a visitor; being drunk in public is an offence. Drugs carry severe sentences, and some medicines that are legal elsewhere are controlled here, so keep them in their original packs and carry a doctor's letter. Photograph nothing military or governmental, and ask before you photograph anyone. Same-sex relations are illegal.

Hospitality is the other side of the rules. Qataris and long-term residents will offer coffee, dates and a seat, and it is polite to accept. Greetings matter: say as-salamu alaykum, and wait for a woman to offer her hand before you offer yours. Use your right hand to eat and to pass things. Do not point the sole of your foot at someone, and do not lose your temper in public.

Everyday life is shaped by the heat. From May to September temperatures reach 40 degrees and the city works around it: air-conditioned malls, indoor entertainment, activities after dark, and many families leaving for the summer. In winter, from November to March, the weather is mild, and Doha is at its best: a walk on the Corniche, an evening at Katara, a dhow ride, dinner at the marina.

Nine in ten residents are expatriates, so Doha is a mix of languages and food. English works almost everywhere, Arabic is the official language, and Hindi, Urdu, Malayalam, Tagalog and others are common. Metro trains have a family and women area. Nothing about this needs planning: a few respectful habits, and you will find people friendly and helpful.

Qatar is small: from Doha, almost anything of interest is inside two hours by road. The peninsula is mostly flat limestone and sand, with a few rocky ridges in the west, mangroves in the north-east, and dunes in the south. Half a day or a full day is enough to see the main sites, and a driver or a licensed tour makes the trip easy.

Al Zubarah, on the north-west coast, is the country's only UNESCO World Heritage site, listed in 2013. It was a planned trading and pearling town in the 18th and early 19th centuries, with a harbour, streets, houses and a mosque behind walls, and it was abandoned after a series of wars and raids. Much of it lies beneath the sand, and what visitors see are low foundations and the fort, built in 1938 on older ground. It is quiet, windy and a good place to understand what Qatar looked like before oil. Allow about an hour there, and up to a half day with the drive.

Zekreet, on the west coast, is known for limestone cliffs and rock formations, an old fort and film-set ruins, and for Richard Serra's East-West/West-East, four large steel plates set in the desert over about a kilometre, which draw the eye across the flat land. Late afternoon in winter is the best time, when the light is low and the temperature is bearable.

In the south, Khor Al Adaid, the Inland Sea, is a sea inlet ringed by dunes near the Saudi border, reached only by 4x4 and best visited with a licensed operator who knows the routes and lowers tyre pressure for the sand. Dune driving is loud and bumpy, and it is not for everyone, but the meeting of sea and sand at sunset is what many visitors remember longest. The season for it is November to March.

Al Thakira, north of Doha, has mangrove channels that you can explore by kayak, and the Purple Island area is a good place for birds. Al Wakrah, south of the city, has a small souq and a beach, and is an easier evening trip than the desert. Al Jassasiya, on the north-east coast, has ancient rock carvings, though access rules can change, so check first.

Plan carefully. Outside the cool months, desert trips are miserable and sometimes unsafe. Book a licensed operator, take water, tell someone where you are going, and do not drive off the road without local knowledge. In winter the desert is at its best, cool, clear and quiet, and a day out of the city makes a good counterweight to the museums and the souq.