Like any nation with an important history, the Arab people are proud oftheir past. Not only because of an empire which once stretched from the far reaches of China to the gates of France, or their many great philosophers, scientists, seafarers, soldiers and traders, but because they are one people, sharing a common language and culture and following the same religion, which has become an integral part of their lives and behaviour.

Language

Arabic is a difficult language for us to learn, but it is a beautiful, expressive one, which, in the early days of Islam, came to incorporate all the permissible culture, literature and poetry of Arab society. Small West African children sitting under cola trees write their Koranic lessons on wooden boards, infant Yemenis learn and chant in unison suras of the Holy Book, school competitions are held perennially in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and elsewhere to judge the students' memory and knowledge of their written religion.

So, as in any foreign environment, the traveller would do well to try and learn some Arabic. For without the greetings, the enquiries, the pleasantries of everyday conversation and the ability to purchase one's requirements, many of the benefits and pleasures of travel are foregone. Best, too, to learn classical (Koranic) Arabic, which is understood throughout the Arabic-speaking world (although the further away one is from the Arabian Peninsula in, for example, the Mahgreb countries of Morocco, Tunisia, and Algeria, the more difficult it is to comprehend the dialectal replies one receives).

Not long ago, before the advent of oil, when one travelled in the harsh environment of the Arabian Desert, the warlike, nomadic Bedu tribes would, if they saw you came in peace, greet you with salaam alaikum and afford you the hospitality of their tents. If 'bread and salt' were offered to you, you were 'on their face': inviolate, protected, a welcome guest for as long as you wished to stay. Baiti baitak (my house is your house) was the sentiment being expressed. This generous, hospitable principle still prevails throughout the Arab world.

Bureaucracy

Although they are subordinate to the overall sense of Arabness, each of the Arab kingdoms, emirates, sultanates and republics has its own national characteristics. In those far-off medieval days of the Arab Empire, there were no frontiers to cross, no need for passports, there was a common currency, a purer language. Today it is different. There is bureaucracy abroad in the Arab world - mostly, it can be said, a legacy of former colonial administrations. So be patient, tolerant and good humoured about passports, visas, immunisation, currency controls and customs. And remember that many of the Arab countries emerged only recently to their present independent status and it has taken us, in the West, some hundreds of years to evolve our systems of public administration and bureaucratic procedure.

One has to remember that, in general, the Arab does not have the same pressing (obsessional?) sense of urgency that we do. No discourtesy is meant. Does it really matter? Tomorrow is another day and the sun will rise again and set. Neither in his bureaucratic or even everyday dealings with you does the Arab take much notice of your status, official or induced.

When I was Personal Secretary to the Governor of Jeddah, important corporation chiefs and industrialists used to visit him in his majlis. They were received courteously and served the traditional qahwa. The Arab, however, is a great democrat and even these important people had, often to their annoyance, to wait their turn. Yet on one occasion, a comparatively poor shaiba came straight up to His Excellency, kissed him on the shoulder and extracting a scroll from the voluminous folds of his thobe (the uniform dress worn by all Saudis), proceeded to read its full, eulogistic length in a high-pitched quavering voice.

To the Arab, it is of little importance to know who or what you represent; he is more interested in who you are. If he likes you, you will soon be aware of it. The sense of touch is, to the Arabs, a means of communication. Westerners, who come from colder climates, should not therefore be too reticent, distant or aloof.

Watch and listen, for example, how the Yemenis greet each other: the long repetitious enquiries as to each other's state of health; the handshake, the finger that will sometimes curl towards the mouth to indicate they are merely on speaking terms, casual acquaintances, sometimes to the heart to indicate that they are intimate friends. The embrace, the kiss on both cheeks, which are mainly customary in the Near East and Mahgreb countries... If you allow the Arab to take you as a friend in his way, he may even invite you to his house.

Social conventions

Baiti baitak is the greatest courtesy. Do not, however, be critical or admiring of the furniture in the house. If you admire the material things, your hospitable host may feel impelled to give you the object of your admiration. Conversely, remember that if your taste in furnishing does not correspond with that of your host, don't, whatever you do, exaggerate how much you admire the material goods!

If it is an old-style house, you must always take your shoes off, and may be expected to sit on the floor supported by cushions. Then all manner of unfamiliar, exotic dishes may be served. If it is painful to plunge your fingers into a steaming mound of rice, and difficult to eat what are locally considered to be the choice pieces of meat, forget your inhibitions and thin skin, eat everything you are offered with your right hand and at least appear to enjoy it. Remember, your host is probably offering the best, sometimes the last remaining provisions in his house.

Once, in the Jordan desert, I was entertained by an important tribal sheikh in his black goat-hair tent. An enormous platter, supported by four tribal retainers, was brought in and put in our midst. On the platter, surmounted by a mound of rice, was a whole baby camel, within that camel a sheep, within that sheep, pigeons. Bedu scarcely talk at all at a meal; it is too important, too infrequent an occasion. So we ate quickly, belching often from indigestion, with many an appreciative Al hamdulillah, for it is natural to do so. When replete, rose-water was brought round for us to wash our hands and we men moved out to the cooling evening sands to drink coffee, converse and listen to stories of tribal life, while the tribal ladies, who had cooked the meal, entered the tent from the rear with the children to complete the feast.

In some Arab countries, alcoholic drink is permitted. In others it is definitely not. From my two years' experience in Saudi Arabia and three in Libya, I know it is actually possible to obtain whisky, for example, but it is at a price - perhaps as much as £70 a bottle - which, for me at least, is too expensive an indulgence, even if it were not for the penalties for being caught.

Coffee and tea are the habitual refreshments: in Saudi Arabia, as was the custom in my municipal office, the small handle-less cups of qushr are poured from the straw-filled beak of a brass coffee pot. 'Arabian coffee' is also famous: almost half coffee powder, half sugar. One should only drink half or two-thirds, however, and if you are served a glass of cold water with it, remember that an Arab will normally drink the water first (to quench his thirst) then the coffee so that the taste of this valued beverage may continue to linger in the mouth.

In North Africa, tea is a more customary drink. Tea nuss wa nuss with milk in Sudan, for example; tea in small glasses with mint in the Mahgreb; even tea with nuts in Libya. Whoever was it said that the English are the world's greatest tea drinkers? Visiting the Sanussi tribe in Libya, I once had to drink 32 glasses of tea in the course of a morning. The tea- maker, as with the Arabian coffee-maker, is greatly respected for his art.

Dress

In most of the Arab world, normal European-type dress is appropriate, but it should be modest in appearance. Again if, as we should do, we take notice of Arab custom, which is based on sound common sense, we might do well to remember that in hot, dusty conditions, the Bedu put on clothes to protect themselves against the elements, not take them off, as we Westerners do.

The question of whether one should adopt the local dress in the particularly hot, arid countries of the Arab world is probably a matter of personal preference. The thobe is universally worn in Saudi Arabia, the futah in the Yemen and South Arabia. I personally used to wear the futah; in Saudi Arabia, however, the Governor suggested I should wear the thobe, but I felt inhibited from doing so as none of the other expatriates appeared to adopt it.

Religion

The final, and perhaps most important, piece of advice I can offer to the traveller is to repeat the need to respect Islam. The majority of Arabs are Muslim, and Islam represents their religion and their way of life, as well as their guidance for moral and social behaviour. In the same sense that Muslims are exhorted (in the Koran) to be compassionate towards the non-believer (and to widows, orphans and the sick), so too should we respect the 'Faithful'. Sometimes one may meet religious fanatics, openly hostile, but it is rare to do so and I can only recall, in my many years in Arab countries, one such occasion. Some schoolboys in south Algeria enquired why, if I spoke Arabic, I was not a Muslim, and, on hearing my answer, responded: "Inta timshi fi'n nar" (You will walk in the fires of Hell).

In some countries you can go into mosques when prayers are not in progress, in others entry is forbidden altogether. Always ask for permission to photograph mosques and (in the stricter countries) women, old men and children.

Respect, too, the various religious occasions and that all-important month-long fast of Ramadan. My Yemeni doctors and nurses all observed Ramadan, so one year I joined them, to see exactly what an ordeal it was for them. Thereafter, my admiration for them, and for others who keep the fast, was unbounded, and I certainly do not think we should exacerbate the situation in this difficult period by smoking, eating or drinking in public.