Oman

November 2010

It was my 9th visit to Oman and my dad’s 5th (see Oman – Land of the Numpty 2005 for Oman background). Ceri was still holed up as a lecturer, now with the Omani Army, and he had recently moved into a new palace. It was huge, with three bathrooms where the toilets were occasionally ‘emotional’. His ‘kit’ was spread out over various rooms. Every room seemed to be double the size of an average English room with taller ceilings. It needed fans and air conditioning to keep it cool, but with government subsidies, it was costing Ceri £20 a month in electric bills and he could leave everything on. So much for the ‘carbon footprint’.

We had booked in for 5 days diving at our regular ‘Al Sawaddi Resort’ diving centre, now run by a German company ‘Extra Divers’. My dad was treated as a respected elder. Aged 77, he was the oldest diver that they had had. We did 8 dives seeing all the regular suspects – floods of colourful fish, turtles, cuttlefish, huge stingrays, lobsters, tuna and barracuda, but no sharks this time. One day’s diving was cancelled as we motored towards the islands because it was very rough and we turned back but we didn’t mind. We had dived all the sites and it was quite nice to sunbathe by the pool at the resort instead.

Over the years, we had toured most of northern Oman and the mountains around Nizwa but we had never been to the far south to Salalah, the second biggest city. So we left 3 days at the end of the holiday to do a serious road trip.

The day that we left was a national holiday – it was the 40th anniversary of the accession of the Sultan. The street lights on the main roads and bridges had been adorned with colourful flags, banners, and portraits of ‘Our Great Leader’.

To get a good start, we were up at 4.30am and off by 5am in the darkness. As we left the Rusayl roundabout in Muscat with its large clock tower, there was a sign that said ‘Salalah 998km’.

I drove along the familiar dual carriageway to Nizwa past Bidbid and Samail. The mountains were invisible in the darkness. The Lonely Person’s Guide said “Once on the lonely Highway 31 from Nizwa, there is nothing much between there and Salalah. The eight hour journey between NIzwa and Thumrait is punctuated by one lone limestone hump near Adam and the small town of Hayma”. But the fact that there is ‘nothing’ made it more interesting.

As we left the small town of Adam, just after the sun had started to rise, we came across the first of four army check points. They asked for our passports, assumed we were driving to Salalah and waved us on. There were soldiers in small dugouts with rifles pointing in either direction down the road.

We were entering the Al-Wusta region. “The flat, desolate oil-bearing plains comprise the remotest and least populated part of the country. It tends to be written off as a joyless transit between the mountains of the north and the subtropical south.” (LP)

The thing that first struck me about entering the desert was firstly how flat it was. This may sound obvious, but with most deserts I have visited, they usually have mountains or rocky outcrops or sand dunes – something to break up the monotony of the flatness. But this was just one endless stretch of gravelly sand that went on for about 800km.

The sky looked very big over the desert. There was virtually no vegetation – just an occasional small bush. It was so barren, we only counted 14 camels on the journey – there was obviously nothing for them to survive on. One strange sight was the occasional icnic shelter away from the road with a solitary litter bin. Sometimes, this was the only thing visible anywhere in the desert.

With no obstacles, the roads were long stretches of straightness. Our rental car had a built in speed warning indicator to match speed camera limits. As soon as I reached 120kph, an annoying ding-dong would start ringing until I dropped below this speed. So I attempted to stay around 118km but the bells would go off all the time. Once in a while, I’d just put my foot down and get up to 160kph, while the bell rang as if Quasimodo was in charge of the thing personally.

North of Hayma, there was a second army checkpoint (asking for car documentation as well as passports – but they couldn’t read English so it made no difference) and then long stretches of the road being ‘maintained’ (i.e. resurfaced) by Indian roadcrews who were bussed in 40km from Hayma. A narrow temporary road had been built on one side to get around the road works.

Hayma had large white Orynx symbols at the start/end of the town and in the middle. We pulled in for fuel. Petrol was still unbelievably cheap. It cost about £8 to fill the tank and that would last for at least 500km. Hayma is the chief town of the region but it was very modest.

South of Hayma, there were a few sand dunes. We entered Dhofar. “The southernmost province of Oman is a world away from the industrious north and separated geographically by an interminable gravel desert. With its historic frankincense trade, great beaches, a laid back atmosphere and an interesting ethnic mix, it’s a fascinating place to visit” (LP)

Under the midday sun, the desert continued. We passed by the hamlets of Ghaftain and Dawkah where a third army checkpoint just waved us past from inside their air conditioned vehicle. We missed the turnoff for the Wadi Dawkah Frankincense Review which apparently is a large area of frankincense trees, which forms a central part of the Land of Frankincense UNESCO World Heritage Site. More than 5000 frankincense trees have been planted in the reserve, which covers and area of more than five square kilometres. We would have other opportunities to find the most famous tree in the area upon which the area was developed to export the aromatic resin in ancient times (and offered by one of the Wise men to Mary and Joseph at Jesus’ birth).

There was one more checkpoint just before the major town of Thumrait which indicated that we had 50km to go and that civilisation was returning. At this point, we had only passed or been passed by 35 vehicles from Nizwa to Thumrait on our side of the road. In 750 km? Traffic coming towards us was heavier but not by much.

A new road had been carved through the rocks down to the flat wide outcrop by the sea. From the top of the pass we had lovely views of green landscapes and our first camel in 700km.

At the bottom of the pass, on the outskirts of Saladah’s city centre, we were impressed to see a sign indicating our accommodation off the first roundabout at the bottom of the pass. I had booked the Areen Youth Hostel Apartments on the internet using www.laterooms.com before leaving the UK for £50 a night (though 17.5% hotel tax hurts as an extra cost). We checked in and were given a lovely spacious twin room (32fft long) with satellite TV, a table and chairs, air-conditioning/fan and en suite bathroom. There was also a restaurant. It tended to be used by Omani tourists rather than westerners who stayed at the more top end resorts. But we were very happy. Arriving mid-afternoon, we had made the trip in 10 and a half hours and it was more than 1000km on the odometer. With time to spare, we headed off to Salalah to get our bearings.

Salalah – pop 170,000 is the capital of Dhofar – a colourful, subtropical city which was originally linked to Oman’s former territories in East Africa. It had coconut fringed beaches, and banana and papaya plantations. It was very easy to negotiate, mainly due to the fact that all the major tourist sites were well marked with brown traffic signs. The traffic was calmer, slower and politer than their Muscat cousins where there seemed to be a dog eat dog existence on the road and incompetence beyond belief.

Our first sight was the impressive Al Nadha clock tower on the Anzar roundabout just outside the airport. Just down the road, next to the Lulu Shopping Centre was a small mosque and the unusual tomb of Nabi Umran also known as Imran, who was said to be the father of the Virgin Mary, which would make it a very important pilgrimage centre. But, hang on, it is also said that he may have been the father of Moses instead, or somebody good anyway. His stone sarcophagus is 33 ft long, which has given rise to speculation that he may also have been a giant. Anyway, it's a pleasant place. Admission is free. I had never seen a long narrow tomb like it, covered in colourful fabrics. A few Indian tourists came and paid their respects. Outside, a woman dressed in black with just a slit for her eyes, sat on a mat and swayed while she prayed.

We drove a few kilometres to the coast where we came across the Al-Husn Palace (Sultan’s Palace). This was a huge complex built at the beach and off limits to everyone. Supposedly the Al-Husn Soq (Frankincense Souq) is next door, but we saw no evidence of it due to the public holiday. There were however, dozens of tiny tailor’s shops lining either side of the street. There is a museum in Salalah, located in the Cultural Centre, but it is only open between Sat-Wed 8am – 2pm which was no use to us on this visit arriving on a Thursday and leaving on a Saturday.

We had a quick pleasant walk along the beach as the sun started to set and then drove around the streets until we found a takeaway restaurant serving excellent cheeseburgers. Back in the hotel, we saw our first BBC news in over a week. Nothing had happened.

The next morning, the sun was up and we drove northwest of Salalah, following signs to An-Nabi Ayyub. It was a lovely twisting drive up into the hills to Jebel Oara with a herd of camels walking down the road. Directions: 30 km north-west of Salalah. If you are driving form the centre of Salalah, take the westbound Mughsail road past Centrepoint and turn right just after the Hamilton Plaza Hotel. The tomb is signposted as the Mausoleum of Nabi Ayub

The tomb is probably the most important religious site in southern Oman. It is the mausoleum of Job of the Old Testament, known as the Prophet Ayub in the Koran. He is probably best known for the misquote "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away."

Both the Bible and the Koran say that he was an enormously rich man whose wealth was taken from him, and who was afflicted with a terrible skin disease, but he never despaired, remained loyal to God and was eventually rewarded by being made even richer and restored to full health. Hence the idiomatic expression, to be as patient as Job. By the way, what Job actually said, according to the Bible, was, "Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away." His simple tomb is on a pretty hilltop overlooking Salalah. There were beautiful red and white bougainvillea flowers blooming at the entrance. We managed to time our visit between two minibuses full of Indian tourists. As we walked into the small complex, we were welcomed by a guardian who showed us what a Frankincense tree looked like (more about Frankincense later). There was a small building with a large plain mausoleum covered in a bright green fabric. An Indian guardian stood nearby. It was very peaceful, with an old ruined one room roof-less mosque outside.

Descending back down the hills into Salalah, we decided to tackle the east side first and headed for Taqah 28km away, a small picturesque coastal town with a tiny castle. This nineteenth century adobe fort has been so well renovated that it looks as though it was built yesterday. It was originally the residence of the wali, or governor, but it now houses a museum which we didn’t bother with. Instead we climbed a flight of stairs to a lookout over the town.

Just outside Taqah, rising high above the coast is the Jebel Samhan plateau, the highest point in Dhofar at 1800 meters. Here you can find the hanging valley of Wadi Dirbat. To get to it, you drove up a hill and then descended into the valley along a twisting road. The famous waterfall that gushes out of the valley was non-existent today and only appears during the rainy season (if they get one).

But the Wadi was a lovely oasis of trees, greenery, donkeys, cows and at least 250 camels. They were grazing like livestock. I think there were some camel herders holed up in shelters. We made our way to the end of the valley where we found the small wadi – a narrow stretch of green water where a sign forbade swimming due to ‘poisonous snails’ carrying some kind of terrible affliction to humans, whatever that was. Nearby were some rock shelters. This valley was where the British S.A.S. holed up in advance of supporting the current Sultan’s attempt to over throw his father in the early 1970s. Since it was the Muslim equivalent of Sunday (Friday), I thought Wadi Dirbat would be packed with families, but it was virtually empty. Recommended.

We drove on to the ruins of Sumhuram, about 40km east of Salalah. It only cost 1 Rial per vehicle to enter. Sumhuram was an important trading port between the 4th century BC and the 4th century AD. Today it is an impressive archaeological site with a beautiful location on a hill, overlooking Khor Ruri and the sea. There are extensive stone walls as well as a temple, residential area, storehouses and gateway to the harbour. We had a stroll around the site and took in the wadi by the sea with storks roosting but no flamingos.

We could have moved on to Ain Razat to find the natural hot springs and then on to the town of Mirbat but we wanted time to take in the west side as well, so turned around and drove back to and then through Salalah where we came across the the Al Baleed Archeological Park which is only 4km east of the centre on the coastal road. This was the remains of the 12th century trading port of Zafar. From here, frankincense was shipped across the sea to India in exchange for spices and is, to quote the tourist blurb “a stimulating ancient site to explore the conspicuous antediluvian charm of Salalah with its early Bronze Age settlement ruins and Iron Age home vestiges. The earliest settlement here is rumored to date back to 2,000 B.C. Al Baleed has witnessed several excavations since the 1970’s and an expansive pathway snakes through the relics to help visitors explore significant structures like the Citadel, City Wall and Grand Mosque. The heritage attraction is gorgeously illuminated with flood lights at dusk and looks even more resplendent in a warm tangerine glow. The best time to visit is in the late afternoon but visitors should stay until sunset to enjoy the site in natural and artificial light.” Whatever. It was closed for lunch and peering over the wire fence at what was on offer, we felt that the ruins at Sumhuram were a much better option. There is also a Museum of the Frankincense Land on the grounds.

Heading west from Salalah, there were low lying hills bordering the flat coastal area which were covered in vehicle tracks – so the locals were obviously keen on 4 wheel driving.

48km west, Mughsayl Beach stretched for 4 kilometers and was a magnificent sandy beach outlined by sculptured cliffs and blow holes formed in the limestone rocks, where plumes of water can reach a height of 30 meters or more. It is popular bathing resort and picnic spot. At high tide the sea bursts dramatically through the rock slabs jutting out from the cliffs revealing many blow holes, the largest of which are covered with metal grids. The view along the coast where the mountains meet the sea is spectacular. Since it was low tide, there was no action from the blowholes but we could hear the sea crashing around beneath the rocky outcrop. This area was popular again with Indian tourists. Later on we realised that we hardly saw any Omanis in the Salalah area.

We followed the Sarfait Road towards Yeman which had been cut through a mountain range with long steep climbs and drops. It was an impressive feat of engineering zigzagging 1000m to the top of the cliff, and the view of the mountain range once we reached the top was just as impressive.

En route, we hunted for Frankincense trees. I had read that there were some 8km from Mughsayl in a small wadi. We found them and realised why most people found them uninspiring. Wikipedia says (abridged) “Frankincense is tapped from the very scraggly but hardy Boswellia tree by slashing the bark and allowing the exuded resins to bleed out and harden. These hardened resins are called tears. There are numerous species and varieties of frankincense trees, each producing a slightly different type of resin. Differences in soil and climate create even more diversity of the resin, even within the same species. Frankincense trees are also considered unusual for their ability to grow in environments so unforgiving that they sometimes grow directly out of solid rock. The trees start producing resin when they are about 8 to 10 years old. Tapping is done 2 to 3 times a year with the final taps producing the best tears due to their higher aromatic content. Dhofarif frankincense is said to be the best in the world.” So we were in the right place. I had never seen them before.

We also took a side road down the cliff edge towards Fizayah for coastal views but would have needed a 4-wheel drive to get back up had we gone all the way down to the sea. On this route right on the cliff edge, we did find a decent sized fully blooming frankincense tree.

Leaving the views of the mountain ranges, we passed through another army checkpoint and pushed on another 10km near to the Yemen border and then turned around and retraced our route back to Salalah. It had been a long 10 hour day of touring. We ate at the hotel restaurant that night and prepared for another early start.

We were up at 4am and off by 4.30am. One of the biggest problems about night driving in the desert are camels sleeping on the roads. As we climbed up through the hills towards Thumrait along the new road with street lighting, I spotted one walking down the middle of the road. Other than that we pushed on in the darkness until the sun started to rise properly at 6.30am. We only saw 5 vehicles on our side of the road in the first 400km (and 3 of these were an army convoy). Back across the desert. Back to Hayma to fill up. Back through all the army checkpoints. The only difference this time, was that when we reached Nizwa, we could see the mountain range we were driving through. We were back in Muscat by 2.30pm – another 1000kms in 10 and ½ hours. The next day we were in the air flying home.

I’d thoroughly recommend Salalah. I suppose you could fly there from Muscat and hire a car, but I think you’d miss a real experience of crossing a barren desert. It is a unique experience. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but unless you do it, you will fail to realise just how empty most of Oman is.

Oman Roadkill: 1 camel, 8 cars