Oman - unexpectedly

I decided the day before the national Eid-ul-Adha holidays at the end of last year to take advantage of my few days off and make a trip to Delhi. (I really haven't updated this blog in so long... A sign of how busy my professional and social life has become!). I had a couple of friends in Delhi to visit. So, all packed up, I was taken to the airport but on arrival was told that the Indian Airlines flight for that day was cancelled. Apparently this happens often. There was no guarantee of the plane coming the next day either. 

Having mentally prepared to leave, there was no way I was going back home. I asked about tickets to other destinations such as Dushanbe (Tajikistan) and Urumqi (China), to where there are direct flights from Kabul. But there were no flights on that day so after some more thought I opted for the next flight to Dubai on Ariana Airlines - not the usual carrier of choice and I wasn't even sure if I was allowed to use it - and hoped to get an onwards flight to Delhi once there. Surely there would be loads of airlines from Dubai? Ariana Airlines - despite being "the national airline of Afghanistan", was operated by the Tbilisi-based Air Batumi and hence staffed by a team of surly and stern Georgian stewardesses. This, coupled with the predominantly Afghan passengers (unlike Safi Airways and Fly Dubai, which are normally full of expats) made for a fairly interesting flight.

In Dubai I made my way from Terminal 2, which seems to be mainly for failed, or failing, state destinations (Erbil, Baghdad, Mashhad, Kabul), to Terminal 1 to buy my ticket for Delhi. Much to my surprise, I was told that all flights were full for the next 2 days, apart from a 1st Class ticket to Delhi that was available. Willing neither to fork out for that nor to stay in Dubai for the holidays, I asked the ticket agent to give me options for any other flights leaving ASAP for anywhere in the region where I did not need a visa. Options given included Istanbul, Tel Aviv and Beirut, but then he told me there was a flight to Muscat (Oman) leaving in 1.5 hours. A prompt decision later and so Muscat it was! Before I knew it I was on the almost-deserted Swiss Airlines 30 minute hop to Muscat, arriving at around 1am. 

With no hotel booked, I made for the airport bookshop and browsed some guides and asked the cashier for recommendations. As is often the case in these countries, he thought I wanted to stay in a resort in expat-land. Having settled for a fairly-decent looking place in the book, I sped through the Muscat night along super modern highways - passing the incredibly colourful Sultan Qaboos Mosque, which was illuminated - and checked into the Safi Suites Hotel. This had the coldest air-conditioning I have ever experienced (and I am someone who loves air-con). The next morning, I opened my curtains into the dazzling sunshine to see what Muscat looked like, but I was confronted by a gigantic highway and a giant homestore. 'Can this really be it?!' I thought, wondering if I had made a huge mistake. I accosted the waiter in the restaurant at breakfast to ask where the action in this city was - because it certainly wasn't in the vicinity of the Safi Hotel Suites.

I settled on Muttrah, on the Corniche by the sea, and this was absolutely stunning! Approaching the curved shore lined by a slick avenue, white-washed buildings and backed by mountains, I felt I was in Monaco or at least the Costa del Sol. The hotel wasn't very nice (Hotel Corniche, I think), but I walked and walked endlessly in the sunshine, free of all the Kabul security restrictions, in awe of the beautiful architecture. The warmth and the open spaces were blissful.

The Corniche in Muttrah

Some interesting architecture along the Corniche

The next few days in Muscat were spent doing typical touristy activities. There were far more tourists than I had expected. A highlight was Bait Al Zubair, a museum of Omani heritage, which was excellently curated and a 2 hour introduction to all things Omani, ranging from history to artefacts to clothing.

I checked out the famous Muttrah Souk, which was full of winding lanes selling perfumes (especially frankincense), jewelry and gold ornaments. It was fairly interesting, but nothing on a par with bazaars in India or markets in China. In fact there was very little that I considered buying.

I also visited Sultan Qaboos mosque, which was an awe-inspiring feat of Islamic architecture, checked out the huge shopping malls that aspire to be like Dubai, and hired endless taxis t ferry me around this surprisingly spread out capital.

The food was a disappointment, mainly because it seemed difficult to actually eat Omani food. There were so many Indians in Muscat (almost all male migrant workers) that getting chai and samosas was easy, but to eat Omani food I had to make a trip to the other side of the city to a specialist restaurant. It wasn't really worth the trip - I had baked fish and some kind of spiced stew, but none of them were that memorable.

At Bait al Zubair - Museum of Omani heritage

Sultan Qaboos Mosque

Fort at Nizwa

On my last day I hired a car and made a trip into the desert south of Muscat, to the ancient capital city of Nizwa. The landscape was beautiful and the skies a gorgeous turquoise blue, but generally similar to Afghanistan (brown, mountainous, desert-like). Nizwa was a treat, and beside the fort there was the souk, which, although closed for Eid, still had several shops open. The pottery was impressive, if slightly unrefined, and I couldn't resist buying a chunky frankincense burner, which I use to burn Japanese incense in my room in Kabul.  After Nizwa we visited some more forts, such as Jebrin, and villages that were built on scraggy hillsides, defying the forces of gravity (Misfah al Abreen). The combinations of shadow and light in the forts, in particular  the silhouettes created by the sculpted walls, made the biggest impression on me by far. 

The highway back to Muscat

                                                                                       

Oman was completely unexpected, but turned out to be a pleasant surpise. Despite the evident new wealth in the country, you can feel the richness of the heritage and, importantly, the way that it is a source of pride for Omanis. This was evident in the preservation of traditional architecture (some air-conditioning units are even covered with white patterned boxes for aesthetic effect) to the shining white dishdasha robes the men wear. This was the lasting impression I got from my few days there.