friday meditation: my top ten happy memories in the sultanate

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Life, Oman, Travel

Friday, Mary 24: I will carry to America hundreds of wonderful memories of my time here in the Sultanate of Oman.  There are too many to put into one blog post, as I have written over 475 posts during my 20+ months here.  As part of my fond farewell to Oman, here are my top 10 happy memories.

1.  On April 19, 2012, Mario, his Omani friend Sultan and I went on a mis-adventure to Wadi Damm.  It was shortly after a big rainfall and we had to cross about 10 fast-flowing wadis.  It was a foolish exploit, because many people get killed every year in flooding wadis; it rains so rarely here that most of the time the wadis are bone dry and people don’t realize how dangerous they are.  For us on this day, it was a grand & somewhat dangerous adventure.  We laughed a lot and then ended up at my house drinking wine and enjoying the night away ~ high jinks all around.  (an attempted trip to wadi damm ~ foiled by raging wadis)

one of the raging wadis on the way to Ibri

2. On April 26, 2012, two of my friends, Kathy and Tom, and I ventured across the Hajar Mountains in Oman.  We drove over a treacherous dirt road along the edges of steep mountains through Wadi Bani Awf toward an idyllic little village called Balad Sayt.  In order to get to this beautiful village, we had to clamber through a pool-filled canyon to emerge on the other side in an open bowl surrounded by mountains.  The village with all its lush green plantations sits in the middle of this bowl.  Kathy made the mistake of abandoning her shoes beside one of the pools in the canyon.  When she came out on the Balad Sayt side, she struggled mightily to walk over the burning gravelly path up to the village. She devised several methods to protect her feet, using discarded pieces of rotten wood which she tossed ahead of her one step at a time; this painstaking method didn’t work too well.  She finally tied some flexible bark around her feet with old twine.  I know it wasn’t too funny for Kathy, but Tom and I never laughed so hard in our lives! (52 pick up: success (aka overcoming adversity))

Kathy and her bark and twine makeshift shoes ~ at Balad Sayt, Oman

3. On March 28, 2013, Mario and I went up to Jebel Akhdar to see the roses.  The year before, we had tried to see the roses but had come too late.  This time, we were able to breathe in the sweet fragrance and take lovely photos of the pink blossoms.  We had a lovely time walking through the rose gardens and then having wine and dinner at the Sahab Hotel after (the roses of jebel akdhar & a lovely encounter with an irish couple).  We repeated similar amazing experiences on Jebel Akhdar so many other times, I can’t even count them all.

Roses on Jebel Akhdar

Everyone who reads my blog knows that my favorite place in Oman is Jebel Akhdar.  Each time I went up the “Green Mountain,” I had different memorable experiences that I’ll carry in my heart always.  Here are a couple more of my favorite times.

• Taking Beg and Mona Lisa up to the mountain on Valentine’s Day, 2013:  a valentine’s day adventure on jebel akhdar
  

  the terraces of Jebel Akhdar on Valentine’s Day

• Taking Mike, Alex and Adam to the Hanging Villages on January 8, 2013: a hike around the hanging villages of wadi al ayn on jebel akhdar
  

  Alex, Mike and Adam on Jebel Akhdar

• Hiking through Wadi Bani Habib with Mario and his Omani friend Mohammed on Thanksgiving Day, November 22, 2012: thanksgiving day on jebel akhdar: villages of wadi bani habib. {part two}
  

  finding colorful ruins at Wadi Bani Habib with Mario & Mohammed

  

  Mario in the ruins of Wadi Bani Habib on Jebel Akhdar

• Taking Malcolm and his lovely wife Sandy to Jebel Akhdar on a cold December night in 2012: a cold but lovely night at the sahab on jebel akhdar
  

  Sandy & Malcolm on a cold night on Jebel Akhdar

4) On May 11, 2012, Mario and I went hiking on Jebel Akhdar in search of the roses, but we were too late to see them.  However, we had one of many great conversations throughout the course of our friendship.  After our hike, he invited me to come over and share lime-flavored white corn TOSTITOS® tortilla chips (a rare find in Oman), apricot & almond cheese, cheddar cheese and a bottle of wine.  We sat in his air-conditioned living room and talked about the tribal society of Oman and the confining rules under which a tribe must live, a conversation I call “escaping the tribe.”  Sometimes I think I should write a book titled “Conversations with Mario.” (searching for roses on jebel akhdar & a conversation about escaping the “tribe”)

Ruins at Wadi Bani Habib on Jebel Akhdar

5) On January 13, 2012, my sons came to visit me in Oman, and all of us loved our excursion into the watery cave at Wadi Shab (cliff-jumping in the hidden caves of wadi shab).  Stunningly beautiful.

The entrance to the pools at Wadi Shab that you must swim through to get to the cave

6) On April 11, 2013, Mario and I went to explore Wadi Bani Kharous.  Not only did we explore the multitudes of picturesque villages in that wadi, but we experienced some great Omani hospitality along the way. (a trip to wadi bani kharous)

Omani hospitality at Wadi Bani Kharous

7) On Tuesday, February 21, 2013 Mario and I went on a huge road trip, where we explored Wadi Dayqah Dam, among other places, and ended up in Wadi Arbiyyin on the east coast of Oman.  Then we headed to Muscat and had a sushi buffet.  It was the road trip to beat all road trips, and perfectly lovely, except for the gunshots that scared us out of our wits. (wadi arbiyyin >> quriyat >> sushi in muscat. {the road trip: part 3})

Wadi Arbiyyin on the east coast of Oman

8)  When I first arrived in Oman, I coudn’t find anyone who wanted to go exploring Oman on the first National Holiday, so I went by myself. I had a great time at Al Areesh Desert Camp meeting random people and listening & dancing to the Bedouin music. (national holiday chapter 3: sharqiya sands & al-areesh desert camp)

Bedouin singers at Al Areesh Desert Camp

9)  When I went to Jordan over the 2011 Eid, I met an Italian guy, Guido, who came to visit me in Oman in December.  We had a great time going to Wadi Tiwi on his visit here on December 2, 2011. (cathy takes guido to wadis tiwi & shab…and up the coast to muscat)

Exploring Wadi Tiwi with Guido

10) The first time I went to Nakhal Fort, had lunch with an Omani family, then drove through Wadi Mistal to Wekan was simply magical. (nakhal fort, lunch with an omani family & a wild drive up wadi mistal)

My first magical time in Wekan

I’ve been to some of these places many times, and each time was wonderfully special.  I’ve picked my favorites based on a feeling of peace and contentment I experienced during those specific times.

My time here in Oman is coming to a close.  I am ready to leave, but I will carry many happy memories with me. 🙂

travel theme: multiples

Sunday, January 6:  The travel theme for this week, by way of Ailsa of Where’s my backpack?, is multiples. She challenges us to: Go forth and multiply find multiples to photograph.

This picture was taken just outside Camp Al Areesh Desert Camp in Sharqiya Sands in Oman.

multiples of camels near Sharqiya Sands

And at Mutrah souq, here is a display of kummar, the intricately embroidered cap worn by Omani men.

multiples of kummar…

the morning after: camp al areesh

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Oman, Travel

Friday, January 4:  In the morning, I linger in bed a bit while Mike and the boys go outside to climb the dunes again.  They’re too late for sunrise, but they are able to enjoy the cool morning air and the beautiful glow that the low sun casts on the landscape.

At the top of the lower dune near the dining area, they find some snowboards which people are using to slide down the dunes.  They meet the Indian couple from last night and they all do a little dune-boarding.

Vikram and Alex

Vikram and his wife

After, they join me for breakfast, which is not very impressive: boiled eggs, pita bread, and baked beans.  I seem to remember much more extensive breakfasts in my previous visits, but maybe my mind is creating a fantasy that never existed.  After our leisurely morning drinking coffee and eating, we pack up the Terrain and head west, toward Sur and Wadi Shab.

Click on any of the images below for a full-sized slide show.

Adam climbs the dune in the morning

the dining area in the light of morning

Alex & Adam

Barasti huts

a Chirstmas tree at Al Areesh

Colorful wall hangings and shadows

Where the Bedouins sang last night

a little herd of camels

a night at the desert camp of al areesh

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Oman, Travel

Thursday, January 3:  We arrive at Camp Al Areesh just in time for sunset.  Mike is driving the Terrain, and we make three attempts before we’re able to get up the steep hill into the camp.  The boys and I keep telling him to back up as far as possible and push the gas pedal to the floor.  Twice we only make it halfway. We are cheering and whooping, “Go, go, go!!! Woo-hoo!!”  The third time is a charm; however, after we check in, we get stuck again.  Abdullah, the young Bedouin in charge tonight, jumps in the car to take over.  He rocks the Terrain back and forth a bit in the fine sand until he bursts out of the hole we’ve dug and parks smoothly in front of barasti hut #9, a simple dwelling framed in local wood or imported Indian teak, and then filled in with palm fronds.

the Terrain at last in front of our barasti hut

Right behind our hut is a steep dune, which we climb hurriedly so we can see the sun set from the top.  The dune is so steep and the sand so fine that it’s quite a feat to climb it.  We end up scurrying up on all fours.  I feel like one of those turtles that lays its eggs on the beach, digging with all its might to make a hole.  I climb a foot and slide back six inches.  I scramble up, until, breathless, I finally reach the peak.  We sit in the cool sand and watch the sun slide down over the horizon, painting the desert with a terra-cotta glow.

Click on any of the photos in the galleries below for a full-sized slide show.

the Sharqiya Dunes at Al Areesh

Alex

Alex & Mike

Alex & me

Looking from the dune to the camp below

sunset. 🙂

We watch little children roll down the dune, gathering sand in a little storm around them.  Adam gets the idea to try it himself.  We run down while he rolls; then he climbs back up and does it again.  This time I capture him on video.

At the end of his tumble, his face is covered with sand.  He can barely open his eyes because he has sand in them.

Adam after his roll down the dunes

Adam washes his face. We load our stuff into our hut, put on sweaters, and carry a bottle of wine and some beers out to some tables overlooking the desert.  There we get into a long conversation with a young Indian couple from “Bombay.”  He works in Muscat as an investment manager of a wealth fund for the Omani government.  He and his wife have been married only 4 months, but have known each other for 12 years, since college.  This is their first time to Camp Al Areesh.  We talk for quite a long time with them, until dinner is served at 7:30.

Barasti hut #9

Our hut

Alex, Mike and Adam in front of our hut

the communal area where the Bedouins play music

dining tables

the dining area

After dinner, the Bedouin singers begin their performance.  It’s quite a small crowd tonight and the music is mellow and repetitive.  Not many people are dancing, except a couple of Bedouins.  Three Georgian guys are huddled up together, heads on each others’ shoulders, under a giant colorful fuzzy blanket. We grab the blanket I purchased in Ibra from the car and Mike, Alex and I huddle up together under that.  The lanterns and the palm fronds on the roof gently sway to and fro in the breeze, having a hypnotic effect.  Alex and I drift off.

Bedouin singers

Bedouin singers

We’re all charmed and relaxed.  We don’t want to make the effort to get up and go to bed, but finally we do.   We cozy up under our fleecy blankets in our hut and have sweet dreams of endless sand and desert rhythms and golden sunsets.

travel theme: rhythm

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travel theme

Monday, June 4:  Ailsa from Where’s my backpack? created a new travel theme for this week: Rhythm.  She writes:

There is an undeniable rhythm to travel, particularly slow travel, that I adore. The clickety-clack of a train speeding along rails, the gentle (and sometimes not so gentle) bobbing of a boat, and my favourite, the clippety-clop of a horse. The rhythm of air travel is less evident; the pockets of turbulence more staccato than anything else, although I suppose you could find rhythm in the repetition of taking your shoes off and putting them back on, putting your toiletries in a plastic baggie and taking them back out again.

However you reach your destination; once you’re there, part of the joy of discovering a new place is learning its rhythm. In general, islands seem to have a slower rhythm than the mainland; cities are faster than towns which in turn are faster than villages. Each one is slightly different and often, the biggest clue to the rhythm of life in a new place is the music you hear on the streets.

Here are some photos for rhythm in Oman.

Bedouin music-makers at Al Areesh Desert Camp in Sharqiya Sands, Oman

at Camp Al Areesh

This is one of my favorite places to go in Oman, this desert camp at Sharqiya Sands, with its Bedouin experience.  I love the drumbeat rhythms and the liveliness of these evenings in a large tent under the stars.  People often dance and clap along with the singers in this throwback to earlier, and simpler, times.

boys meet bedu at camp al areesh

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Oman, Travel

Thursday, January 26:  This morning we wake up at Christian’s house, where we spent the night after our late night at the Intercontinental in Muscat.  He conjures up a sumptuous breakfast of pancakes and eggs and then drives us to the GMC dealer so I can pick up my car.  This service is a killer; it’s the major service for 100,000km, and it costs me 240 rials!!! This is the problem with having an American car in Oman.  It’s not a common vehicle here, and it’s expensive.  I walk away in sticker shock, but at least I won’t have another service like that for another 100,000km!

alex & adam at camp al areesh

me with Alex

We go home, and to be honest the boys are not feeling so great after their wild night of dancing and drinking beer.  We laze about for a couple of hours, watching continuous episodes of Parks & Recreation and even napping.  Finally, around 3:30, we leave for Camp Al Areesh in Sharqiya Sands.  I’ve been warning the guys that we must make it to the camp by 5:00 to see the sunset in the desert, but I know that by leaving so late, we probably won’t make it.

We don’t.

the dining area at camp al areesh

The drive is a long one, 2 1/2 hours, and it’s not easy, especially once you get off the Nizwa-Muscat highway.   The road to Ibra, and ultimately Sur, beside which Sharqiya Sands sits, is not a good one:  two lanes with no shoulder and endless caravans of slow-moving trucks that need to be passed.

adam & alex in front of our barasti hut #55

Sadly, we arrive at the desert camp after the sun has set.  We move into our barasti hut #55, which is the only one left remaining in the entire camp because of a Mitsubishi Pajero group of off-roaders who have taken the camp hostage.  We’re on the outer fringes of the camp, but since we don’t plan to hang out in our room, I guess we’ll survive.  Adam thinks it hilarious that our hut is #55, as he’s seen a funny YouTube video about that number:  Schfifty Five.  Here is it for your, uh, enjoyment (??)…. 🙂

We load our stuff into our hut, remove our shoes and walk through the cool sand to the communal tent.  I’m always surprised at how refreshing the sand feels once the sun goes down.

inside of barasti hut #55

We hang outside for a while, looking at the stars and drinking tea, until the buffet is served at 7:30.  The food is great, as always, lots of vegetables and rice and fruit and hummus, which the boys love, and even lamb and chicken.  I load up on an eggplant vegetable dish that is so delicious I have to go back for more.

the Bedu singers

After dinner the Bedouin boys sing and bang out rhythms on their drums.  Their singing is more like a chant, but that doesn’t stop people from cavorting. Where there is rhythm, there is dance.  The mostly Indian Mitsubishi crowd is dancing fluidly and rhythmically, as Indians are known to do (at least in Bollywood movies!).  Adam is still in a partying mood after his first clubbing experience last night, so he dances away with the crowd, on and on, even after Alex and I decide to go early to bed; he wanders into our hut after the music stops around 1 a.m.

We don’t set any alarm in the morning but wake with the sun.  The breakfast buffet surprisingly doesn’t have any fruit, much to the boys’ disappointment.  Next stop: Wadi Bani Khalid for another day of exploring.

breakfast in the desert

an italian drops in for a week-long visit: a day of snorkeling, wine and a desert camp

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Oman, Travel

Thursday, December 1:  On November 19, eight days after I return to Oman from my Eid holiday, I receive a surprise email from Guido, an Italian I met on my last day in Jordan. (Yes.  His name is really Guido!)  We happened to be thrown together randomly on a tour that day to Jerash, Ajloun and Umm Qais in the north of the country and we ended up having quite a nice time together.  (see jerash, ajloun, umm qais and a couple of italians thrown in for good measure)  Since we only met that one day, I am quite taken aback by his email:

Guido at the Oman Dive Center

CIAO CATHY, HOW ARE YOU? ….IF YOU WILL HAVE TIME FREE FROM SCHOOL AND OTHER …J’M THINKING TO COME IN OMAN, BEFORE END NOVEMBER-MAXIMUM HALF DECEMBER. WRITE ME ALSO THE CITY IN WHICH YOU LIVE AND THE PLAN OF YOUR WORK ..AND SEE SOMETHING, IF YOU HAVN’T BEEN, ABOUT DAMANAYAT ISLANDS. HERE IS NICE WEATHER AND TILL NOW IT’S NOT COLD…BUT A JUMP IN A WARM SEA IT WOULD BE A DREAM. …ALL THIS THINGS CAN BE FOR TWO PEOPLE….WAITING YOUR NEWS, J SEND A BIG KISS. GUIDO

at the Dive Center before snorkeling

I can’t help but be flattered that someone I met for just one day would make a special trip to Oman just to visit me.  Of course, there is the possibility he simply wants to visit Oman and I just happen to be someone he knows here.  Either way, we hit it off in Jordan mainly because of his cute and enthusiastic personality, his love of history and travel, and not a little physical attraction.  I am happy to have him visit.

on the boat with the divers and snorkelers

Despite my initial disbelief that he will actually come, he in fact does follow through, buys the ticket, and arrives on my doorstep (well, at Seeb International Airport) at the crack of dawn on Thursday, December 1.

heading out in the boat from the Oman Dive Center

taking off in the boat from Oman Dive Center

In our email correspondence he expresses a desire to see the Damanayat Islands, some government-protected rocky islands about an hour’s boat ride off the coast of Sawadi.  Rich in marine life, they’re supposed to be great for snorkeling and diving.  I tell Guido I will arrange the boat trip for the Thursday of his arrival, but when I call Extra Divers at Al-Sawadi Beach Resort, they tell me that one of the Ministries will be occupying the islands for 3 days, December 1-3, for clean up. 😦  The Ministry has thus rescinded all permits for visitors to the islands for those three days.  Since during Guido’s visit, I only have off the weekend of December 1 & 2, that means I will not be able to accompany him if he decides to go later during the week of his time here.

going past Shangri-la in the boat

I tell him the scoop and then I make arrangements for us to take a snorkeling trip from the Oman Dive Center, a short drive from Mutrah.  We go directly there from the airport, change into our bathing suits and go out in the boat at around 8:30 a.m.  The boat has about 12 people on board, 8 of whom are deep-sea divers.  The other four of us will snorkel.  Though the weather is hot and sunny, as always in Oman, the sea is quite rough and the wind is a little chilly on this December morning.

snorkeling in the little cove

We make a stop at a little cove and all of us jump out of the boat to explore. Guido has bought an underwater camera just for this trip and he is busy snorkeling about and snapping pictures.  I realize I haven’t been snorkeling in about 24 years, since a trip to Hawaii where Mike and I snorkeled all around Hanauma Bay in Oahu, Hawaii.  It takes me a little while to get into the swim of things. A big coral reef hugs the rocky coastline.  We see beautiful funnel coral and blue coral, several green turtles, lined butterfly fish, regal angelfish, sergeant major fish, humbug damsels and powder blue surgeon fish, among other unidentifiable schools swimming all around us.  It’s so peaceful to float above this underwater village with all its ethnic inhabitants and watch them go about their daily business.  I stay mostly near the surface, but Guido is like a fish and keeps taking deep dives to capture the glimmering sea critters and turtles on his little camera.

At one point I come to a large coral formation that is like an underwater mountain.  In one of the little caves made by the coral, I spy the black and white spots of a honeycomb moray eel.  I signal to Guido, but I’m surprised that he backs off when he sees it.  Later he tells me he was a little afraid to go near it.

After awhile snorkeling here, we all hop back in the boat and motor off to another cove where the current is stronger and the water rougher.  This particular spot has interesting table coral, different from the coral at the other cove.  Again, we see the same types of fish here, but this is not as relaxing because of the rough water and the current pulling us where we don’t necessarily want to go.

along the coast of oman

After swallowing a lot of water and being bounced around in the livid sea, we all climb back in the boat and head back to the Dive Center.  Another boat zooms up beside us and the two drivers embark on a mad race back to the dock.  It’s crazy because we’re all freezing anyway and now the water is coming into the boat as if we’re in the midst of a tempest.  We’re all getting sprayed and soaked though the towels that we’ve wrapped around ourselves to keep warm.  We can’t help but laugh at the crazy antics.

guido the fish

Back at the Dive Center we both take hot showers, get dressed and then sit down for lunch, accompanied by two good-sized carafes of red wine.  The dive center restaurant, called the Odyssey, has quite a lovely setting amidst palm trees and flowering bushes and we sit and enjoy the breeze and the view.  The only negative is the pounding bass of some techno music that the little palm-leaf bar beside the restaurant is playing at high volume.

smoking shisha at al-areesh desert camp

I’m thankful for the wine. Especially since Guido’s English is not good.  I realized it that day we met in Jordan, as he talked constantly in unintelligible English. I thought maybe it would just take some patience on my part; that if I listened carefully enough I would get used to it, learn to understand it possibly by osmosis.  His pronunciation is bad and his vocabulary is very limited, and it doesn’t help that when he doesn’t know an English word, he tosses in Italian, Spanish and even German words.  On top of that, because he thinks his English is good, he talks non-stop, telling long and convoluted stories about his mother, who he lives with in Genoa; the lady who takes care of his mother, Elena; his travels (with every detail such as numbers of kilometers between destinations); people he works with; his job cleaning at a big marina; his Mexican ex-girlfriend and her son who is not Guido’s.  While he talks I catch only random words and phrases.  I miss whole paragraphs, even whole stories, or the gist of them anyway.

the #16 barasti hut at al areesh ~ bigger than my last room here….

Sitting at lunch, he talks and I nod.  He doesn’t ask me anything about myself.  I ask him questions when I can get a word in edgewise.  I ask about why he didn’t marry the Mexican girlfriend, whose name is something like Chiquita.  Or Chinchilla.  A name that makes me think of bananas and rodents that scrounge around in the twilight.  He says she came to visit him in Italy and something about how she wanted to spend money and more money, wanting to buy the most expensive things when cheaper things would do.  His mother didn’t like her and was saying nasty things about the boy, whom she called “bastardo or illegittimo.” As Guido tells about this, he shakes his head, says this behavior is totally unlike his mother and she seems to have deteriorated in her old age, but what can he do?  It’s his mother and he cares very much for her.  He lives with her and she is ill and he pays Elena to take care of her so he can go off and travel.

al areesh desert camp

Then he tells all about Elena and how she never goes out to clubs or to restaurants; all she ever does for herself is smoke cigarettes and save every bit of money she makes for her sons.  He wants to encourage Elena to go out but he cannot talk her into it.  She only wants to work and give money to her children.

He tells me his father died when he was 4 years old and he’s an only child and thus must be there for his mother, who fell a couple of years ago and broke her leg or hip and now is afraid to be alone.  When he travels he doesn’t tell his mother he is going abroad; he just tells her he is going somewhere within the country.

the camp

So.  I guess I do understand some of what he says, but believe me, it is painful.  And sitting there at the Oman Dive Center, with that techno music pounding in our ears, it is really difficult to hear, much less understand, anything he says.

Still.  As frustrating as he is, he is easy-going, cheerful, adventurous and a good sport about everything.  I like a person who has this kind of personality, a person who is always good-spirited and happy and enthusiastic about life.  So, in the moments when we are able to sit quietly, or when he’s not telling one of his painfully drawn-out stories, I feel a happy companionship with him.

the French couple, Francis and his wife

After our lunch, we get in the car for a long drive to Al-Areesh Desert Camp.  I already went once to this camp during the National Holiday and I adored it.  I figure Guido will like it too.  We drive about 2 hours from Muscat, and we arrive just after the sun goes down, too late to enjoy the sunset.  We find upon arrival that the place is deserted.  Last week, when I was here for the National Holiday, there were over 70 people here.  But tonight there are a total of 4 of us.  Guido and I, and an Omani couple.  Because of this, the dinner, which is included, is a much smaller buffet than what I experienced, and we also find, much to my disappointment, that no Bedouins will be playing music tonight.

me with Guido at Al Areesh

So.  What will we do all evening?  We sit outside and drink coffee and tea looking out over the dark desert.  I could use another glass of wine, but these Bedouin camps don’t serve alcohol.  Guido talks.  And I listen.  Nodding and nodding as if I understand what he’s saying.  We eat our dinner, which only has a small array of dishes.  We sit outside again after dinner and see another couple arrive, too late for dinner.  Luckily they pass by us and we strike up a conversation with them.  They’re on vacation from France; the man’s name is Francis but I don’t catch the wife’s name.  I ask them why they decided to come to Oman and they say they spun the globe and their finger landed on Oman.  I love that.  They join us and though Francis speaks excellent English, a nice reprieve from Guido, the wife doesn’t speak any.  She takes off for bed, but I don’t want to let Francis go.  At least I can understand him!  He tells us he’s a film director in France, making some movies but mostly commercials. He keeps Guido and I occupied for a couple of hours.  Sweet relief.

my GMC and hut #16

Finally, I am tired and while Guido and Francis talk, I take off for the little barasti hut and climb into bed.  I savor the sweet silence while Guido sits outside with Francis, talking man talk.  I imagine Francis, frustrated, struggling to understand this Italian fellow, trying to decipher his foreign and garbled tongue.

national holiday chapter 3: sharqiya sands & al-areesh desert camp

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Oman, Travel

Friday evening, November 25: Friday afternoon, I decide to go on a road trip, with my first stop being the Sharqiya Sands and the Al-Areesh Camp.  Kathy and Anna tell me it will take about 2 1/2 hours to get there from Nizwa and that I should try to arrive before sunset so I can find it.  I pack enough stuff for 2 overnights and 3 days and head out at 2 p.m. into the far-flung territories of Oman.  Well, maybe not far-flung, but definitely new destinations for me.

Al Areesh Camp in Sharqiya Sands

I drive about an hour on the nice highway between Nizwa and Muscat and then turn off onto the two-lane highway that goes through Ibra and on to Sur, the 23 road.  I drive and drive and it’s a kind of desolate road once I’m off the main highway.  Once I get to Al Qabil, about 30 km past Ibra,  I follow the camp sign near the Al Qabil Rest House or some such thing.   I can see the sand dunes to the south, so I know I must be heading in the right direction. I turn right down a paved road for a while into the sands of the desert, until I see the camp situated on a dune on the left side of the road.

my barasti hut #36

The camp has bunches of barasti huts, tent-like rooms made of palm fronds.  They provide shelter from the sun and allow breezes, if there are any, to cool the insides. Charpoy are scattered around the camp area outside the tents. A charpoy is a bed used especially in India consisting of a frame strung with tapes or light rope.  These are obviously for sleeping outside under the stars.  There is also one huge rectangular communal hut that has a huge dining area and another communal area covered in carpets; one of the areas is for prayer and another is where the nightly entertainment takes place.  As I come upon the camp during the waning sunlight, these huts seem like a natural outgrowth to the red desert sands.

the inside of my little barasti hut

I can see the camp up a steep sand dune and a number of vehicles are parked at the bottom.  A bunch of four-wheel drive vehicles are parked up the dune at the camp.  Anna, who has been here before and who has a Jeep, gave me this advice: “At the bottom of the dune, just put your foot to the floor and gun it with all you’ve got to get up the hill.  I mean like 60 mph; you’ve really got to put it all the way to the floor.”  She told me she got stuck the first time when she didn’t do that, but when she gunned it she made it up.

the dining room in the communal hut

So, what do I do?  Like a little pansy who’s not used to driving a 4WD, I push my foot partly to the floor and get up a decent speed, but nowhere near the 60 mph Anna recommended.  Of course, I get stuck and have to back down the dune.  I think for a minute.  Maybe I should just leave my car at the bottom.  But then I have to haul up my bag.  Besides, why did I spend all this money to buy a 4WD if I’m not going to use it?  So, I back down the dune with a running start, and I floor it with all the gusto I’ve got.  And!  I make it up the dune, drive over the sand to the reception tent, and get assigned barasti hut #36, a kind of sad lopsided hut within a short walk from the communal bathroom.

another part of the communal tent, where the Bedouins play music after dinner

I tell the guy at the camp that I just got this 4WD vehicle and the manual is in Arabic and I don’t have a clue how to even use it.  He gets in the car and tells me the car is always in 4WD mode and that if I want to use it manually I can.  He shows me how and then shows me some other buttons to push to get better traction in sand, etc.  Thank goodness for him!!  I start to feel a little emboldened about my new vehicle, which I admittedly felt a little tentative about before.

After parking near my tent, I head to the communal tent to take some pictures of sunset and drink some tea.  It’s only about 5:30 and dinner isn’t served until 7:30.  I sit at a terrace table overlooking the edge of the dune to the desert below. I read that these beautiful dunes were formerly known as Wahiba Sands and are home to the Bedu (Bedouin).  The sands give a glimpse into a traditional way of life that is fast disappearing as modern conveniences limit the need for a nomadic existence.  The Bedu specialize in raising camels.  Bedouin women wear colorful clothing, unlike the simple black abaya of the Omani women.

I sit here before dinner chatting with a bunch of Danish architects

Later a bunch of Danish guys start filling up the 4 tables beside me.  They overflow onto my table and I end up having a long conversation with one of the Danish men about their study trip. They are all architects and engineers studying architecture and helping to consult on the new international airport that Muscat is spending millions of dollars to build.  He says that Muscat wants to be a hub for all the major airlines, much like Qatar and Dubai are now, and the country wants to expand the airport to achieve that capability.  We talk about all our travels and the Danes share some of their gin with me.  Later, dinner is served and it’s quite good, and warm, unlike the food at I had at the Seven Wonders Bedouin Camp in Jordan.

yummy dinner at Al Areesh

After dinner, I have a seat in the communal area where some of the Bedouin boys are beating on drums and singing.  After a bit, two young Omani guys and an older British guy named John, who says he’s lived in Oman for over half his life, join me.  John says he loves England but hates the weather there.  Here in Oman, it’s always warm and sunny, which he likes.  And he says, sweeping his arm over the view of the desert below us, “Look!  The scenery here is marvelous!  I never get bored with it. Never.”

One of John’s friends is named Salim, and Salim keeps saying he wishes he could speak English.  He wants to know do I have a tent all by myself tonight, could he come and join me in my tent later?  I say “No!  I don’t even know you!”

Bedouins play music for the guests in the communal hut

It never ends, these kinds of approaches by Omani men.

As the night progresses, I note at the other side of the communal tent that my office mate Vicki is sitting with a group.  I see some other people from the university I’ve met briefly before, Francois and Giles and some other familiar faces from the other colleges in Nizwa. We all exchange greetings and I’m finally able to meet Vicki’s Omani boyfriend Hilal. The Bedouin boys are playing their music, very mellow yet with a nice beat, and the Omanis start dancing.  The other groups in the tent join in and everyone is dancing around in circles to the rhythm.  John and his friends share a beer with me and I’m just soaking in the ambiance and loving every minute.  This is probably one of my favorite nights so far in Oman.

my GMC 4WD and my little barasti hut 🙂

I go to bed eventually and sleep soundly in my little hut.  The camp has a generator which they run only in the evening until 1 a.m.  After that, there are no lights and no electricity.  The only shower it will be possible to take in the morning is a cold one.  I’m not keen on that idea.

In the morning, I get up and throw on my clothes, eat the breakfast buffet that’s included in the 20 rial price (single) and take off for the next chapter of my National Holiday adventure, Wadi Bani Khalid.

the communal bathroom ~ it looks like a cartoon character to me 🙂

If you want to make reservations at Al-Areesh, you can call: 99450063.