R
Middle East




Tucked away on the southeast coast of the Arabian peninsula, bounded by Saudi Arabia, the UAE and Yemen, The Sultanate of Oman was a secretive country until 1970 when the present Sultan overthrew his father and brought the country back from the dark ages.

Oman has had a rich and checkered history. In its heyday, its dhows controlled the seas, and it was a super power sitting on the lucrative "Spice Trade" routes to the Indies. Until recently it was a land full of mystery and intrigue, with a history peppered by conflict and tales of enormous riches.
My visit to Oman was short--only five days--so I decided to stay around Muscat, the capital, do a little sailing, experience an off the road excursion to the mountains and to be pampered in a spa or two!

For North Americans, getting to Oman is easier as Emirates Airlines now flies from the U.S. to Dubai and then connecting to Muscat. A stop over in Dubai is well worthwhile. The contrast between the eclectic planning in Dubai and the quieter Omani approach is well worth comparing. Dubai is overflowing with amazing state-of-the-art buildings. Each year new and more fantastic projects are developed, while in Oman an emphasis is placed on a quieter style of development. No building over seven stories high is permitted, unless it's a minaret. Oman is a Muslim country following the moderate Ibadhism faith, and buildings must fit into the Omani style of architecture.

However, even with vast sums of oil money at its disposal, it becomes clear when talking to young Omanis that getting on the housing ladder is as difficult there as it is in the rest of the world. Local wages for unskilled workers are not high, and the cost of living is eating up any pay rises. The upside is that, as family ties are still strong, relatives often get together to give the newly weds a handhold on the ladder by helping to build their new home.

Life in Oman is also at a slower pace--so laid back. People actually smile and are keen to talk about their country. National pride runs high, particularly where football is concerned. Everywhere one goes boys may be found kicking footballs around. Deep in the interior of the country, on a ridge with the dirt track road running through the middle, I noticed a football pitch neatly marked out among the weeds. No houses could be seen for miles around, but hidden oasis concealed small homesteads. I was told that after school young boys would trek miles for a game.

When shopping in a bazaar complex, I experienced friendly banter with store keepers and other shoppers, exchanging views on everything from how to bargain in Oman to how much oil was costing. I felt very relaxed and safe.

As this was a quick visit, I decided to stay in three different hotels to see as much of the area as possible . On arrival, I went straight to the Al Nahda Resort & Spa a few miles from Muscat. The resort nestles in a stunning Mango orchard. After my long flight and a touch of jet lag, a spa treatment was a restorative. Before therapy, electrodes were placed all over my body, giving a readout of the type of treatment I should receive and purportedly disclosing the general state of my health. A deep tissue massage was recommended. The remainder of the day was spent relaxing by the pool and walking in the lovely gardens before a fantastic evening meal that culminated with an incredible green tea brulée dessert.


The next day, relaxed and ready to go, I met Mahmood, my driver on a 4x4 off-road vehicle for an excursion to climb the highest peak in the land, the Jabal Shams Mountain of the Sun, rising to over 3000 meters. We left the lush grounds of the hotel and drove towards mountains that initially appeared to be a mirage on the horizon. The sparse scrub desert was dotted with houses under construction as locals, pockets probably filled with money from working in Muscat, were gradually building new homes on family land adjoining the main highway. A service station with shiny signs felt incongruous in the rock strewn 'lunar' landscape.

The road follows the same path where endless caravans of camels once stoically climbed the mountain passes laden with trade goods. It's a harsh unforgiving land. Water is at a premium, so the route had to follow the known water course. Vivid splashes of green would occasionally puncture the ruthless landscape where a hidden source of water gave life to the land. Sheltering palms bringing relief from the intense summer heat gave shade to man and beast alike.

Small villages--perhaps an extended family unit eking out a living-- hide in the shade of palms trees close to prized water. To the concern of the older generation, many of the young now work in the capital, lured by a steady wage and an easier lifestyle. The fear is that the majority will never return and a way of life will eventually die away.


We stopped in one village and spoke to the local headman, who was asking for ideas to attract tourists to his village. We sat, under ancient trees, drank wonderful fragrant Omani coffee and discussed the pros and cons of tourism. Would it, for example, change the face of the countryside with vast faceless hotels coming to these remote places? Would it provide much needed work for locals and stop the slow death of villages? How could they help themselves and earn money through tourism?

I made some suggestions: setting up a cooperative, perhaps a small stall selling locally made items such as rugs/jewelry and woven baskets, sending out notices to all the tour companies who drove through the village to the mountains, perhaps adding a few chairs and offering light refreshments, or possibly considering home stays in the future for visitors interested in a deeper immersion into the local culture. He seemed to like my ideas and said they would be discussed at the next village meeting. We mused upon life. Nothing really changes. No matter where we travel in the world, we find that people everywhere worry about the same things: our health, our kids, our future.

As we sat there, an enterprising lady came up and offered some dates for sale. I asked for permission to take her photo, but she shied away. Pointing a camera at the locals can be annoying to many, and, in any case, in rural areas the women are still quite reserved.

But it was time for Mahmood and me to continue our spectacular drive to the summit of Jabal Shams. Towering mountains, distorted and fractured, hid gaunt river valleys (wadi) with stones and rocks strewn all over the dry river bed, giving testimony to the seasonal floods that sweep violently down the gulleys. Markers along the route indicated the height of the torrents - the jeep would have been covered twice over if one had swept over us unexpectedly. A feeling of emptiness came over me as the jeep drove deeper into what to me was unknown territory. I realized how fragile we all are. For most of us living here would be impossible. Yet, the overwhelming stillness, interrupted only by the rattle of rocks under the tires of our 4x4, left me with an intense impression of peace and tranquility.
When we reached the top, the view was amazing; mile upon mile of barren rock spread out beneath us. Yet, even in this bleak place there was life: birds flew overhead, goats daintily picked at dried grasses, and all the while, the wind moaned softly as it blew down precipitous gullies.
Coming back down the mountain, Mahmood and I stopped for a picnic. Goats came helter skelter down the rugged hillsides to greet us, well aware that Jeeps with tourists in them spell rich picking. Their manners were immaculate. Waiting a few feet away they stood patiently, bleating occasionally or head butting a late comer, hoping for us to throw a few crumbs. I couldn't resist, and soon the goats were finishing off my sandwiches, licking the hummus from the containers and merrily munching on apples.


The next day we visited the carefully restored 17th century Fortress of Nakhl, spectacularly perched on a rocky outcrop to guard the verdant oasis below. Using local skilled craftsmen, the Fort is slowly being returned to its former glory. When we arrived, the silence inside the Fort was ghostly. It was noon, the sun fierce, and--except for Mahmood, myself and the caretaker--not a soul stirred; all were quite sensibly taking a siesta. However, for me, it was perfect. Here was an ancient Fort to wander in at will and a place in which to indulge imaginary journeys to the past. Inside the building, I found many delightful vignettes: the small stool holding the Holy Koran was touchingly simple and quite beautiful; a spoon or bowl, everyday artifacts that revealed a rustic lifestyle in their down-to-earth design; and canons, quiet now, once loudly broadcasting the might and power of the Fortress of Nakhl.

Close by are the famous mineral-laden hot springs, which flow year-round from clefts in the mountain rock. At the week end, the locals come to relax and enjoy the waters. During the week, tourists in 4x4’s do what is called ‘wadi bashing’, as I was doing.


Later I returned to Muscat to stay overnight in the Intercontinental before Mahmood drove me out of town to the Shangri-La Barr Al Jissah Resort and Spa. En route, I stopped at the Bandar Rowdha Marina for a scheduled sail in a Turkish gullet or ketch, a usually well-appointed, sometimes luxurious class of wooden boat, for a dive and dolphin watching. Unfortunately, due to a mix up, I ended up on a motorized, inflatable rib or zodiac storming through cerulean waters in search of dolphins and secret coves. It was quite astounding-- 40 knots flat out, screaming over the ocean. I was hanging on for grim death as we soared through the air bouncing off waves. Being a yachtsman I wasn't too keen on the noise, but the exhilaration was amazing!

We slowed down at last and started slowly circling to see the dolphins. Watching them ride the bow waves, only a few feet away, was one of the most thrilling encounters imaginable as they cavorted, twisting and turning, leaping out of the water for the sheer joy of it. We missed seeing the whales. I imagined their serene passage would have been a sharp contrast to the merry dolphins. What makes boating so special in Oman is the crystal clear, blue water. One can see the marine life virtually without having to dive or put on a mask. The Omani coastline is pristine. No pollution. Any development has to pass very strict eco guidelines that include waste and water recycling.

Later, we motored gently along the coast, searching for hidden coves and tiny deserted islands to stop for a swim. In one bay I was entranced as a group of fishermen threw nets for sardines. Working as a team, the men gathered overflowing nets writhing with darting fish. Had we been having a barbecue, Mahmood said we could have bought some of the fish and grilled them. On the way to the hotel we stopped for a much needed retail therapy break in a small bazaar where local jewelry and tiny ceramic cups with coffee beans and spices were displayed to entice the tourists.
Later at the Shangri-La I did indulge in sardines for supper. I wondered if they had been caught that very morning as I watched. The hotel was right on the beach front, ideal for a walk on the sands in the cool of the evening after the heat that blasted us while we were at sea. Another spa treatment and my 'fire body' was brought back to its proper balance by a Balinese massage, followed by a delicious tisane, an herbal infusion drunk for its mildly medicinal effect.

Unfortunately, this journey was too short, merely hinting at what Oman has to offer. However, I fell in love with the stark beauty of the mountains, blindingly blue sea and above all the genuine kindness of the people. For those with more time, a tour deep into the interior of the country is highly recommended to visit the many historic old castles and forts, to explore the country's archaeological sites, some dating back 6000 years, to watch dhows being built and even to admire the Sultanate's irrigation systems. So precious is water in this region that UNESCO has included five of Oman's irrigation Aflaj oases on its World Heritage List. Finally, of course, there is the return to the Arabian Sea to see the dolphins.

Additional Information:

Emirates: www.emirates.com

Oman Tourism: www.oman.org/tourism.htm www.omantourism.gov.om/wps/portal/tourism

Al Nahda Resort & Spa: www.alnahdaresort.com

The Shangri-La: www.shangri-la.com

Photo Credits: Deborah Ratecliffe, Photo of Jabal Shams Courtesy of Oman Tourism


© 2008 ROMAR TRAVEL GUIDES