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ZAKOPANE: Saudi photographer Fahad Alayyash gazed over the Alpine-like panorama of the Tatras, Poland’s highest mountain range — and a surprising new hotspot for Arab tourists.
The 38-year-old is among thousands of Gulf residents spending their summer vacation in Zakopane, a resort known for its ski lifts and hiking trails, where historic wooden houses mix with modern hotels.
“We’ve completely taken over the place,” Alayyash said while standing on Gubalowka, a peak overlooking Zakopane, where dozens of visitors drink coffee, shop for souvenirs and enjoy the view.
Zakopane, located in southern Poland, has become a major summer draw for holidaymakers from the United Arab Emirates, �������� and Kuwait, with up to seven daily flights from the region at nearby Krakow Airport.
The boom started with a Saudi travel agency representative, said Agata Wojtowicz, head of the Tatra chamber of commerce.
She said the official came to Zakopane to scout for a new destination with a direct connection to the Gulf and “was astonished” by the town.
Flydubai launched the first Dubai-Krakow connection in 2018 and Emiratis are now coming in droves — helped by their visa-free access to the European Union.
Last year they were Poland’s fastest-growing tourist group, according to the tourism ministry, with numbers 66 percent higher than in 2023.
Manal Alanazy, a 45-year-old educational technology professor at King Saud University, said Zakopane is well-known among Saudis.
“When I told my dad and my brother that I’m going to Poland, my brother didn’t like it. He said: ‘It’s all Gulf people there,’” she told AFP.
Zakopane uses social media to attract Gulf tourists who have created “a snowball effect” of growing interest, said Wojtowicz.
Over the past three years, Arab influencers have been invited on promotional visits, according to Grzegorz Biedron, chairman of its tourism organization.
Both Alanazy and Abdullah Alotaibi, a 30-year-old Kuwaiti ship captain, learnt about Zakopane from X.
“I saw on Twitter (X) a thread about Zakopane, and how it treats all people the same, and there is no racism about religions, so I liked it and I came,” said Alotaibi.
Arab tourists cite the feeling of safety as one of Zakopane’s key assets.
“It was dark and I was walking... I’m like, ‘You’re not in Poland, you’re in one of the Gulf countries. Just look. Nothing will happen,’” said Alanazy.
For Zakopane’s business owners, the Gulf clientele has been a blessing.
“This year, around two-thirds are Arabs,” Anna Stoch-El Einen, who owns a kebab restaurant and souvenir shop, said of her customers.
“We have very few Polish tourists in the region, perhaps because of the weather,” she added.
The hospitality industry has adapted fast to the preferences of Middle East visitors.
Stoch-El Einen offers menus in Polish and Arabic, and has a “halal” certificate displayed over the counter.
“We also make sure that we have a halal menu,” said Wiktor Wrobel, CEO of the region’s Nosalowy hotel group.
Arab customers constitute up to 30 percent of all summer guests at his five-star hotel in Zakopane.
City mayor Lukasz Filipowicz told AFP “local entrepreneurs are very happy about the presence of tourists from the Middle East.”
He said the biggest challenge was the difference in driving cultures, with visitors often breaking parking and entry laws.
“Every municipal police patrol is equipped with a handbook in Arabic... so that tourists from the Middle East can understand and comply with the applicable regulations,” Filipowicz said.
The day is rainy, but the drizzle did not deter Gulf visitors escaping the infernal summer heat in their home region. Temperatures sometimes top 50C in the Gulf, whereas Polish summers are generally mild.
Alanazy initially wanted to vacation in Paris.
“I canceled because the heatwave hit the European countries,” she told AFP, adding that “the weather is perfect” in Zakopane.
Wrobel said climate change is a reason behind the surge in Zakopane’s popularity.
“The respite that visitors from Arab countries are looking for cannot be found in Italy or Spain, where temperatures have also risen significantly,” he told AFP.
Hanka Krzeptowska-Marusarz, whose family runs a guesthouse in Zakopane, recalled seeing a Kuwaiti in full Islamic attire as she stood in a meadow, arms spread out, soaked in torrential rain.
“I thought it was beautiful,” she said.

TRIPOLI: Nestled among shops in a bustling market in north Lebanon’s Tripoli, Mohammed Al-Shaar is at his workshop making traditional tarboosh hats, keeping up a family craft despite dwindling demand.

With a thimble on one finger, Shaar, 38, cuts, sews and carefully assembles the pieces of the conical, flat-topped felt hat also known as a fez, attaching a tassel to the top.

Reputedly the last tarboosh craftsman in Lebanon, the Tripoli native has been making the hats for 25 years in know-how passed on by his grandfather.

“Our family has been carrying on this craft for 125 years,” said Shaar, who also studied tarboosh making in Egypt.

The brimless hats made with maroon, black or green felt, some bearing floral motifs or embroidered with Lebanon’s national emblem, the cedar, sit on display in the small workshop.

While the tarboosh has been around in Lebanon for several centuries, it became particularly common during the late Ottoman period.

“The tarboosh used to have great value — it was part of day-to-day dress, and the Lebanese were proud of it,” Shaar said, noting the hat now is largely seen as a traditional item or appealing to tourists.

“Nowadays, people barely wear the tarboosh, except for traditional events,” he said.

As well as a onetime symbol of prestige or social status, the hat was used for non-verbal communication, Shaar said.

“When a man wanted to woo a beautiful young woman, he used to slightly tip his tarboosh to the left or right,” he said, while knocking someone’s tarboosh off was offensive.

As successive crises have hit Lebanon, including a catastrophic 2020 port explosion in Beirut and a recent war between Israel and Hezbollah, tourism has diminished.

Shaar said his “work has slowed, and demand for the tarboosh has dropped” as a result.

Sales have plummeted to just four or five of his handmade hats a month compared to around 50 before the crisis, he said.

Recent customers have mainly been music and dance troops, or religious figures who wear the tarboosh covered with a turban.

Shaar said he used to employ three others but now works alone, selling his handmade hats for around $30.

But he said he wasn’t about to close up shop or abandon his passion for tarboosh making.

“I feel like my soul is linked to this craft. I don’t want to shut or to stop working,” he said.