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Even my trusty Lonely Planet Travel Survival Kit: Arab Gulf States was in on the act, calling the Tree of Life the “centerpiece of the ‘Bahrain-was-the-Garden-of-Eden’ theory.”Īt home in Michigan, during the weeks leading up to the trip, I’d become something of a leisure authority on all this Garden of Eden speculation. Various writers had made controversial claims pinpointing the historical location of the Garden of Eden in Bahrain the theories differed widely, but almost all of them made mention of the lonely old tree. In the middle of the desert, the story went, stood an old, old tree surrounded by nothing but vast stretches of sand. I had first heard of the Tree of Life a few years earlier.

“We’ll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes,” he said. “Haven’t you ever heard,” Mohammed replied, “of those people who live in New York and have never seen the Statue of Liberty?” “How is it,” I asked, “that this friend of yours hasn’t seen the Tree of Life if he grew up here?” Mohammed’s friend, a native Bahraini raised in the capital city of Manama, was getting directions to the Tree even as we spoke, and admitted that he himself wouldn’t mind “having a look at the thing.” “It not too dangerous to find, but somehow very difficult,” he told me. The closest thing to a helpful answer I’d gotten so far was from the Filipino bartender in the Diplomat Hotel’s Skylight Lounge. I’d arrived in Bahrain, the tiny island state in the Persian Gulf, earlier that week, and since, I’d been asking around about the Tree.

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Mohammed called to tell me a friend of his knew someone who knew how to get to the Tree of Life.