February 7th, 2020 Oman part II

Hiya...

All Oman part II.

On our third day, we headed to the airport for an hour flight to the city of Khasab.  Khasab is located on the Musandam peninsula which is at the narrowest point in the Straight of Hormuz.  The Straight of Hormuz at this point is 20 miles wide and separates Oman from Iran and connects the Persian Gulf to the rest of the world.  2/3 of the world's oil passes through this channel and so it is a geopolitical chokepoint and the scene of a lot of history.  This peninsula is not contiguous with the rest of Oman (hence the flight) as they kept possession of this strategic land when the UAE was granted its Independence in 1971.  Here is one, but you should really dial up a  larger map just to see the neighborhood that this place lies.

Note that the Persian Gulf reads as Arabian Gulf.  Depends on what side of the Sunni/Shia fence you're on, but I grew up with it being the Persian Gulf so will refer to it as such going forward.  None of our friends had ever gone there, but as students of international relations, this was a major draw for Betty and I.

As far as things to do, the web said to take a dhow cruise through the fjords, so we booked a company to take us on a 6 hour trip.  They were great (Khasab Dolphin Tours).  They grabbed us from the airport and it was a magical day.  We hung out in the town for a half hour waiting for our 10am departure and then went back to the office.  It appeared we were gonna be the only ones on the boat that day, but the dude says that we need to wait a couple of minutes as another group that was coming from Dubai was delayed.  He then says that it is a group of 10 Chinese and I wish I had a photo of Betty's face when she heard that.  The dreaded Decibel of Chinese.  The boat guy smelled a rat as the guide leading this group was saying they were 15 minutes away but that didn't jive with the location he was giving, so he sent us out without them and said they would join us via speedboat when they arrived, which was two and a half hours later.  That gave us two and a half hours to commune with the area in peace.

Side note...as we are driving from the office to the dock, we pass by a soccer field and on it is herd of goats.  I ask the driver, who spoke some English, if that was the Omani National team.  Not sure if he got it but he laughed.

A dhow is the local form of boat and always find it interesting that wherever you go, the traditional boats all have a certain design unique to them.

These boats were traditional fishing vessels, but in the form of a tour boat, they are built to chill.

Our morning sans Chinese was delightful...we saw a bunch of dolphins, dove into the water and explored a tiny island the British used as a telegraph station.

For me, the best part was cruising on these calm seas in this amazing ship and meditating on the scenery.  If lush forest is your thing, you may not care for the severe lack of vegetation, but I find that staring at the geology and colors of the desert contrasted with the deep blue of the water soul soothing.

The Chinese showed up about lunchtime and they did not disappoint.

They immediately busted out their tupperware full of Chinese food.  We said to ourselves that, here we are, in a remote spot of the world, far removed from the quarantines of the coronavirus, and sure enough we are gonna catch that shit from a a pile of recently arrived mask wearing mainlanders.  This crew was an extended family of 5 adults and 5 kids and to be fair, they were not as bad as feared.  Contrary to stereotype, most of them ended up eating some of the local fare the boat provided, and a few of them even jumped into the water.  By getting on before them, our clan had staked out the primo spot at the front of the boat and I got to lounge most of the afternoon sunning myself on the bow.

After spending the night at a well appointed hotel in Khasab, we booked passage on the ferry back to the main part of Oman.  I based our itinerary on this guys blog entry.  In it he mentioned that in the mornings, at the harbor you can see speed boats leaving the port loaded with goods like goats and medical supplies to take across the straight and deliver them to people in Iran that cannot get certain things due to sanctions.  We were not disappointed

The ferry ride takes four hours and you glide by much of the same type of scenery as the day before, but the experience that I wanted to have was to travel through the flashpoint that is the Straight of Hormuz just to say I did.  You could see giant tankers sailing through, and at one point we passed through a type of parking lot for those ships waiting their turn.

Our destination that day was back to Muscat, but the ferry only goes so far as the port of Shinas three hours by car north.  There is a public bus option, but it took 4.5 hours and people told us that hiring a taxi was not much more expensive and much faster.  We get off the boat and waiting for our luggage see a guy that is offering that service.  I am put in charge of negotiating and make the deal for 25 Omani Rials.  He seems to speak little English and later find out he speaks nothing but how to say 25 Rials.  He leads us to his vehicle and it is a small pick-up truck.  Getting closer, it is not only small, but old and filthy.  Getting inside, we can tell it isn't used for human transportation often and smells like his usual passengers are goats.  Babydoll is sensitive to smell and she spent the whole ride with the window cracked and her nose sticking outside the window.  How this dude could even see traffic through the dirt on his window was impressive.

Here is something I learned about cars...the maximum speed limit anywhere in Oman is 120 kph and they have a law that cars can only be sold if they have a warning light/beeper that signals the driver when they go over that limit.  I had never heard of such a thing but Betty says she has seen it in Jordan before.  I suppose that is a good feature to have, but it would drive me crazy.  Our pick-up was an older model and did not have that feature, but this hunk of crap was so beat up that when he hit 120, the whole car would shake as if the wheels were gonna fall off.   As a self proclaimed master behind the wheel, feel it my responsibility to critique the driving habits of places where I spend time on the roads, and I consider the Omanis to be above average.  They have the benefit of being able to use an excellent road system with well paved and lit streets and highways.  They keep to the right to allow faster traffic to pass and stop appropriately for pedestrians.  Other than a tendency to tailgate a bit too much, give them a solid B+.

Our time in Oman slowed down a lot after this as two days were budgeted to be "free" in Muscat.  Our first three nights were spent at the Sheraton in the city.  It was lovely, had one of the best breakfast buffets in memory with a dosa bar being a highlight, and at 14 floors is the tallest building in the country.  Our last leg of the journey we were fortunate (by virtue of Betty's accumulated points) to stay at the W Muscat.  I am not lying when I say it is the nicest hotel I have had the pleasure of staying.  It didn't hurt that Platinum member Betty got us into an upgraded suite, but this place was not only lavish, but the design was an attraction in itself.  On the last afternoon we had one of the talent (they call their employees that instead of staff) take us around to show us the artistic touches featured.  In every corner there were flourishes that on the surface were attractive, but we learned that they were done so to represent the land and culture of Oman.  You are welcomed at the entrance by a steel sculpture of a tree that is frankincense, which is a prime export and national symbol of Oman. 

It went like that throughout...the pool bar inspired by a famous wadi, bases of tables that are goats and camels, a ceiling light instillation based on the Omani mountains, and the roof deck lounge that had an infinity pool overlooking the beach with the decor of a desert camp.

Marvelous.  The staff/talent were drawn from all over the globe and we were told more than once that there were people from 49 countries working there.  We had a game where we would try to guess their nationalities and they were all more than happy to engage in conversation.  We know one lady was Hispanic after hearing her speak Spanish at breakfast, so we all guessed what country she was from and asked her the next morning.  None of us got it right (she was from Mexico), but in talking to her, it came out that Betty had Argentine origins and as soon as she said it out loud, this dude at a table nearby head swivels and he comes over.  Turns out he is the chef and is from Buenos Aires.  I have seen this scenario dozens of time when Betty meets another Argentine...the Spanish gets all flowery and they connect like they are family.  It is quite a sight to behold. 

The hotel is ideally located 5 minutes along the beach from this outdoor mall area that had several great food options (we fell in love with a Persian food joint called Cherry Bistro) and were gonna go back there this night, but Argentine chef said that if we wanted a nice steak that we should try the place in the hotel called Char.  We had tried to avoid eating at the W cause it is not cheap, but when Betty hears 'nice steak', game over.

We had a lovely meal there and it wasn't too outrageously expensive, but the reason I mention it was that during dinner, which was our last in country, we were commenting on how often the staff/talent asked us how everything was.  Most of the time you hear it and it is really just chatter...but these guys were obviously not only trained to inquire but to follow up when someone had a criticism.  At the pool this day after getting our daily banana smoothie poolside, Babydoll and I lamented at how it was not smooth but full of ice.  Our pool talent (from Zimbabwe) asked us how it was and we told him our feelings.  After promising that tomorrow's would have less ice, we are back in the room and get a call from the desk asking about it.  We are recounting this and all the questions about quality at dinner and we call back to a famous dinner in Taipei years earlier.

At that dinner at an Italian joint with friends, one being our local celebrity Wine Master friend, Wine guy says that he had an issue with the cut of meat and how it wasn't the right one to be prepared in the fashion the restaurant did so and during the meal, we debated the merits of telling an establishment if we found something wrong with our meal.  We agreed that if something was really off, that it should be brought to their attention, but something a bit more esoteric like the current meat preparation issue should be left alone..  The proprietor comes to our table after the meal, we suspect cause he knows Wine guy and his taste in things matters, and Wine guy blurts out his opinion on the meat  I can still see the guys face fall in slow motion and it's obvious he is crestfallen.   He goes away and we decide against dessert and are getting ready to ask for the bill when the dude shows up with a dessert medley on the house due to our friends dissatisfaction.  I know our friend feels bad but we all laugh as we enjoy our lovely chocolate whatever.

As we are having dinner this night in Oman and talking about this social situation, we all agree our meals are excellent.  I say to Betty that I knew her piece of meat was good cause she inhaled it and she says it was good but she ate it fast cause it was not served on a hot plate to help keep it warm as is done in top quality steakhouses.  5 seconds after she says that, the waiter comes by to ask how dinner was and if there was anything that could have been better, so I offer up her suggestion.  The waiter thanks us profusely for our input and goes away.  As with the above dinner, we had some cookies in the room to enjoy for dessert so were not going to order any here, and the chef (very Turkish) comes out to talk to us.  It was at least a 5 minute discussion as to how right we were and that a plate warmer is on order and that he appreciated our insight so much that dessert was on them.  We then laughed as we enjoyed as nice a piece of cheesecake that Oman has to offer.  The lesson, if you want a free dessert, always complain.

I budgeted free days in Muscat knowing this was gonna be a nice place, and also that the girls work really hard and value time just to flop out and do nothing.  As doing nothing is my job, vacations are my time to be busy.  Fortunately, not only is the W on the beach and by some delicious food, but the Royal Opera House is across the street.  They have tours so talk the girls into a walk over for a tour of the place.  Touring opera houses is a thing that we do often as they are typically where art and architecture in a town meet as that city's showpiece.  The kids and we have seen some of the best the world has to offer, but it is to the point where it is a lot of same same, so were not expecting this to be any more than a thing to do. 

We were not only pleasantly surprised but were wowed by the building.  From the outside, it had the box like look of an Omani fort and our guide confirmed this was on purpose as a nod to Omani culture.  She also added that the stone used was Omani stone that could withstand the brutal heat and sun of the country.

Stepping inside, the sensation was of wonder.  The lobby was grand in the finest tradition of opera houses, but fresh and expansive and in a style that was both classic and immediately recognizable as Middle Eastern....not stuffy in an old world way.  We paid the 5 bucks for the tour and were told that the marble floors were of Italian stone and the buttery woods on the ceiling were from Burmese teak.  Crappy cell phone photos don't do it near the justice it deserves.

The concert hall itself was equally impressive.  Built from 2011-2014, they not only spared no expense on the decor, but incorporated all the latest technology in staging, seating and acoustics so that they could expand/contract the space to fit any kind of performance.  A touch that they claimed was new to their building was a screen on each seat that translated whatever language the opera was in into Arabic and English for the audience to follow along.  Not a bad diversion for an hour on a free day.

To get to the Opera House from our hotel, we walked through the Opera Galleria, which is a high end shopping center built to complement the theatre.  They had very nice stuff and who doesn't like to window shop.  As we are walking back to the hotel, we pass by a shop that has scarves and things that look really nice.  Betty is ready to flop out at the hotel, but remind her she just lost her favorite scarf and it doesn't hurt to take a peak.

We were in this place for another hour...the lovely guy running the place showed us all kinds and explained that each pashmina is hand embroidered from Kashmir.  They were so beautiful that Betty had a hard time narrowing it down to buy just two, and even Babydoll was able to talk herself into one.  After deciding on the pashminas, start looking around at the rug selection and he has loads of gorgeous ones.  I thought we took a picture of it, but the one he had on the wall was a masterpiece (and cost US$50,000).  Amazingly, Betty resisted purchasing any.  During all this we are talking to the guy (Mr Parry) and learn he is from Kashmir and all of this amazing stuff in the shop is from Kashmiris working out of their homes.  Not gonna go into the political situation there but Kashmir is one of those places that is always in the news as being one of the most likely origins of war, and potentially nuclear war, between India and Pakistan.  Mr Parry had just spent a month there and while his description is of a land with immense beauty. the place now is in a state of martial law...no internet, intermittent electricity, troops roaming everywhere...and that he barely left his family's home during his stay.

This kind of encounter happened all the time during our week in Oman and while there are lots of countries similar to that, this felt most unusual..  Having chats with the South African server, or the receptionist from the Philippines, the entire world lives in Oman and they all seem really happy they are.  The population of the country is 4.7 million with half of that being foreign nationals.   I don't know it first hand, but in places like Saudi Arabia or Qatar, there are loads of foreigners doing all the work cause they all are rich from oil and don't need to do the menial stuff.  I wrongly suspected Oman to be similar but was corrected by several people who said that the Sultan Qaboos (that guy again) specifically did not want the people to live off of oil handouts but had to work.  All taxi drivers must be Omani by law for instance.  It is apparent that they all do OK cause there was not a single sign of poverty to be seen anywhere.

I know this is getting long but have one more thing.  In between free days, booked a day trip to see Wadi Shab.  We had been told this was a must and saved it to the end.  Located 1.5 hours south of Muscat, we were picked up by our guide Yusef.  We liked him immediately as he got all the jokes and pitched in with some of his own.  His brother is at university in Kentucky and Yusef had spent several weeks touring the States.  Before we came to Oman, many people asked why we would go to such a dangerous place and Yusef related he recieved the same questions from his friends before going to America, what with all the shootings and violence on TV.  Relatedly, on the ferry we met a European couple that were bike trekking around the world for the last three years and had just been to Iran for the last month.  She said how great it was and that all the people she met were lovely but said to them, "don't blame us".  The Europeans replied with the exact same thing.

Yusef has also traveled to a bunch of other places we have and haven't been so had plenty to talk about.  Omanis love to go to Thailand for example cause they can booze and chase girls.  Yusef was also very candid about Omani life and his own, telling us about the mechanics of his arranged marriage (and how his wife is just an OK cook) and what was the deal with the style of beard the Omani mean wear.  Noticed it early and often, but the men had facial hair that looked like it was between 3 and 4 days old, and manicured like a Japanese bonsai.  Not once did I see any long hair or neck beards.  It appeared to me that it smacked of a lot of effort.  He told us he didn't remember when it became the style, but that they get the perfect lines of the beard by using lasers. 

Anyhoo, Wadi Shab...a wadi is a river that is fed by mountain water.  This particular one has carved a steep valley out of the mountains and after a good hour hike up the valley, you get to a series of clear pools where you can float and such.  Another one of those places that is hard to capture the majesty of the canyon, and we didn't take our phones in the pools, but have to say that this was the most beautiful place we'd seen during our visit.

I said it was an hour hike...took us at least 1.5 cause this was not easy.  For a good 2/3 of the way, the path was uneven at best, and mostly it was climbing up and down bolder fields and around cliff sides where the rocks were smooth as glass from erosion.  That last snap you can see Babydoll giving me support and she had to do so the entire way.  I felt cartilage sheering off on several drops and there were two points when I looked at her and said "no more".  She looked at me like a drill sergeant but said in a kind voice "you can do this."  Yusef was also by my side and helped the entire time too.  He mentioned casually earlier that he is also a paramedic and does this for extra cash on his days off, so that made me feel better. 

The pools were amazing...water was cool, but not cold, and the remoteness of the place made this wonder not overcrowded.  Getting in the water made me feel better too cause it was deep in spots, but I can swim.  Some of the other visitors were not strong swimmers and I was able to help them get across the deeper spots so was able to give back help that I had received on land.  There was this one guy from Uganda, huge built dude that could wrestle a lion, but he was tripping out when he got to spots that the water was deeper than he could stand.  There were four interconnected pools but my knees wouldn't allow me to climb over to boulder to the last two.  Babydoll went and said that there was a cliffside on one where you had to climb up a rope and could dive 20 feet into it.  The Ugandan guys guide attested to the fact she did it and was impressed by her courage.

Getting down the valley was no easier, and we got passed up a lot cause I was so slow and B-doll and Yusef were literally carrying me over some rough spots.  I made it without falling once but realize that there won't be many more times I can pull something like that off.  The knees were bad before, but they are a different and worse kind of bad now.  We get to the car and the girls go to the bathroom to change and I am waiting by the car when a woman who must have seen my struggles on the trail comes up to me, flashes a big thumbs up and says, "Monsieur...Bravo!".   Classic.

Time for the ride home but we make a quick pitstop a a sinkhole nearby.  I was not ready to go down the steps to go in but saw folks swimming and snorkeling.  At the carpark when we pulled up were a couple of hippies that looked straight out of High Times were changing a tire to their well worn and lived in Volkswagon Vanagon.  Spent a good 20 minutes trying to describe what a hippie was to Yusef. 

One thing I have not mentioned about Omani men is that they all, literally not metaphorically, all wear this outfit called a dishdasha.  Took a photo with Yusef wearing his.

They are pretty cool and look damn comfortable.  Notice that little tassle off the neck line...it is not just decorative but one puts a perfume on them to make them smell good.  The hats are part of the outfit and have a name that I forget, but there are a million different designs and colors, but all the same shape.  Thought about investing in one but knew I couldn't pull it off.  Yusef didn't wear the dishdasha on the hike but rather changed into shorts and a t-shirt.  The transformation from one to the other was jarring, so took a photo of him in that too.

On the ride back to Muscat, we were treated  to a sunset that turned the mountains a fiery red.

As I use this space as a travel guide and often share entries of places with people that are going to spots we have been, feel it important to list the things that we didn't do but would have had we the time or had heard about them before we went. 

Everyone told us to spend a night in the dessert.  You can get that uninterrupted view of the stars and learn about Omani nomads.  We consciously passed on doing that cause we have done similarly in other spots before.  I regret not doing it here cause we fell in love with the people and their culture and know we would have been filled with knowledge (and dates) had we gone.

Another thing we passed was going to the turtle reserve, which is another 45 minutes to an hour south of Wadi Shab.  All the info says that the turtles are the giant kind and not only can you swim with them but that they lay their eggs on the beaches where you can also see the babies make the life or death dash to the ocean avoiding being eaten by the birds.  Would have done that in a second, but this time of year isn't the mating season and we would have been lucky to have seen even one.

Lastly, I think a trip to the city of Salalah would have been neat.  You can fly of course but it is a 10 hour drive across the desert from Muscat and is a few miles from the border of Yemen.  Just being a few miles from the border of Yemen sounds intriguing, and a 10 hour roadtrip in deserted desert with the tunes cranked appeals to yours truly.  They have a lot of adventure things to do there and it is the one place on earth where frankincense grows. 

Maybe another time?  Seems pretty clear from writing up these notes that I really liked the place and feel certain the girls did too.  Clean, modern and safe, with a population that was not only interesting intellectually and culturally, but as friendly a group to outsiders as I've ever met while also giving off a sense of confidence and self assurance without any hint of arrogance or superiority, and natural wonders that rival most anywhere. 

Stay hydrated my friends.