Muharraq is the old island city of Bahrain, joined to Manama by causeways, and for most of the last few thousand years it was the place where the country's real wealth came from. That wealth was pearls. The natural oyster beds of the Gulf were among the richest in the world, and in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries the merchants of Muharraq exported pearls to Bombay, Paris and beyond. The money built houses, and a handful of those houses are now part of a UNESCO-listed trail that follows the pearling economy from boat to dealer to home.
The Jalahma house belongs to that group. Houses of this type were built of coral stone and gypsum plaster, with thick walls to keep out the heat, and they were organised around inner courtyards where family life went on out of sight. Roofs were carried on mangrove poles brought from East Africa, carved teak doors came from India, and wind towers caught the breeze and sent it down into the rooms. A wealthy merchant's house was designed to impress from the street yet remain private inside, with a majlis, a reception room, where business was done over coffee and dates. Some of these houses have been restored with care and others are waiting for their turn, so you may find open doors in one lane and shuttered windows in the next.
The area around is a maze of narrow lanes in the old quarter, where cars crawl and bikes can squeeze, but heat and glare reduce the appeal of riding in the afternoon. Go in the morning, when the sun is low, or after sunset, when the lanes are lit and the cafés fill with men playing dominoes. The best season is November to March, when daytime temperatures are pleasant. Summer is brutal, with heat and humidity that can top forty degrees and make metal too hot to touch.
Fuel is cheap and easy to find, with stations on all main roads in Muharraq, and the island has plenty of small restaurants and cafés where you can try fish with spiced rice. Dress modestly, particularly around mosques and in the old market, and ask permission before photographing people. The call to prayer, rising from several mosques at once in the evening, is the proper soundtrack to the old town.