On this segment, I was all awake. I watched on the Airshow as Salzburg, Trieste, Zagreb, Belgrade, Athens, Damascus, Ankara, Al-Jawf and Riyadh scrolled by. It was either overcast or dark, so this was the only reference to new (for me) territory. Arrival in the dark at Dammam was something else. About 40 minutes out, all the liquor was secured. We landed on schedule, and as I deplaned on the Jetway, there was a man holding a sign with my name on it. Without a word we went out the door of the Jetway and walked down the rickety steps to a waiting Lexus. The airplane loomed above us in the dark. I got in the car. We drove about 300 yards. We got out; I got my luggage and was ushered into an ornate arrival hall — just me. A man welcomed me. I was given some tea. At least I think it was tea. Next I was ushered into a room with some military personnel. My passport was scrutinized, my fingers printed and my teacup collected. Out the door I went to another waiting car for the 45-minute drive to the hotel.