Reda wanted to get something before our tour today and I figured we’d just stop by the cafe in the lobby. Unfortunately they weren’t open so we wound up at the breakfast buffet… way more than I needed and WAY pricier at 10 rials apiece (about US$26 per person!!).
Then I realized I messed up booking the 2017 Honolulu Marathon. There’s a one day early bird special and with the time zones I missed it. I wound up paying almost twice as much as I would’ve a few hours ago. I’m just feeling stupid.
On top of that, our tour guide never showed at 8 am. The contact numbers we had on my booking voucher were all disconnected. I tried email, FB messengering, anything at all. Reda found a number through google that got us to one of the drivers for Golden Oryx Tours who gave us an office number to try. Apparently the tour guide just never showed up so they are dispatching somebody else to take us into the desert.
Maybe I’ve been on the road too long. Or maybe I’m coming down with something – jet lag plus weird temperature swings plus general wear and tear have resulted in a sore throat and aches and pains. Looking forward to the desert but it’s been a rough start today.
***
A few facts and figures about Oman the nation and Muscat the city as we drove away from it:
- Muscat has a population of 1.4 million, about half of the nation’s Omani live there.
- The total population of Oman is 4.1 million but that’s with migrant workers, visitors, tourists, etc.; Omani number about 2.5 million.
- Though it’s a narrow country, it stretches along the coast for a long, long way — Muscat the city is the same way. It’s spread along the coast so it takes awhile to go from one end to the other. It’s a long line rather than a circular layout.
- Up until 1950, The United Arab Emirates were all a part of Oman. The emirates got their independence from the Sultan but he kept an island within UAE territory that had strategic and economic value.
- We weren’t going that far today but the City of Sur in the south is the home to legendary sailor Sinbad!
On a personal note, I’m having a fat day. Every photo of me looks bloated and pudgy. That’s not helping my headache which may be due to dehydration, lack of caffeine, or lack of endorphins due to yet another day of non-running. But that’s ok. The marathon is Friday. I’ll run then for sure.
Meanwhile, here are some “Pudgy Kevin” pics from the day long tour. It helps that Oman’s tourist slogan is “Beauty has an address.” They aren’t wrong. So focus on the landscapes and not on the fat man in the photos.
Our first photo stop was at Fanja, affording a fine panorama (one I apparently DIDN’T export for uploading… that’s how the day is going).
Unfortunately I missed the “Hollywood” sign style Arabic writing of the city name on the mountainside. But that’s how our guide pitched it to me. The Omani Fanja Hollywood sign. I tried snapping a shot on the way back from the car window but the results are, magic 8 ball style, unclear.
From there we made our way to Wihibah Sands, a dune sea. Here we treked through the desert for a shot or two… or fifteen…
…and afterwards we sat in a bedouin tent that was marvelously cool. By using tree branches they’re able to maintain a far cooler environment inside than any other construction material might afford. Our guide showed us two of his desert friends — a sand snake and a scorpion, all safely tucked away in a water bottle. Not like water bottles ever leak, right? On the plus side, more dates!
We stopped for lunch before visiting Wadi Bani Khalid (more on that in a moment). But the roadside diner was delicious… and emblematic of Oman as a whole. It was on the village’s main drag but nary a car drove by. It was clean, fresh, and inviting. The food was local tuna, served with a delightful sauce. I blew the photo arrangement as it looks like rice is the focus on the meal but that’s because I thought the tuna was a communal plate that we were taking part of apiece; nope, that’s all mine… and I ate every bit of it. Tuna is usually not my top pick for seafood but this was caught that morning in Sur and cooked perfectly.
When he picked us up, our guide asked if we were going to swim in the Wadi. Neither Reda nor I brought clothes to change into… although I had a pair of trunks in my bag in the room. Had I known what we were going to see, I would have run up to the room and gotten them.
Wadi Bani Khalid is an oasis in the desert. Words and images aren’t going to do it justice. But here are a few — it’s a jaw dropping sight to go from the red dunes and rocky mountains and come across this fresh spring. It’s the stuff of adventure tale legend, or of comic juxtaposition for a cartoon character lost in the desert who imagines what an oasis might look like… except this was the real deal.
Further up from the watering hole, there’s a rocky climb to a cave and a waterfall and it’s pretty… pretty spectacular really.
On the walk back to the car, our guide suggested we dip our feet into the water and not move them. The result was an “included in the cost of the tour” special pedicure. The fish snacked down on the dead skin and an exfoliation spa treatment courtesy of nature ensued. I’ve never had a pedicure but it freaked me out to have these little fishes “biting” at my feet. It didn’t hurt but it felt… weird. Super weird…
I’ve asked three or four times our tour guide’s name and I just can’t pronounce it. I’m feeling incredibly racist and ugly American. But in my defense, here’s what I DO know about him — he’s got 12 years experience as a freelance guide. The high season is Christmas to April. The summer is too hot — 55 degrees Celsius and no one wants to be out in the desert. He’s also an archeologist. He’s finishing a degree to be an archaeology professor at one of the 11 Omani universities. For field work, he’s had a lot of contact with Italian archeologists so loves to speak Italian. He also loves Bryan Adams. But I have no idea what his name is. It’s something like “Ashby fa bingo.” But that’s incredibly poor on my part.
On the drive home, we once again cross through the Wadi Algehfi … and “Ashby” once again tells us this is the Valley of the Genies… not your cartoon lamp variety but the proper devilish spirits kind. In ancient times travelers would have to leave someone behind as an offering to the Genii… if he had left one of us on the way out and one of us on the way back, he’d be able to head straight home and not have to take us to the hotel. Always thinking… always thinking…
But he was too nice a guy to leave us out in the desert. In fact, Ashur Farubi, as I finally scribbled down as his name, was incredibly knowledgeable and helpful. I even asked him to detour to the Muscat Marathon Packet Pickup that was a few kilometers out of our way and he graciously agreed… enduring some awful 6 PM traffic to wind us through the seeming timeshare enclaves at the local marina.
The good news is: I’m packeted!
The bad news? Despite downing MANY bottles of water, I’m feeling really dehydrated still. I have a headache that is pounding both from within and without and it just won’t quit. We’ll see if tomorrow’s early morning pilgrimage to the Grand Mosque, open to non-muslims Saturday-Thursday from 8 AM – 11 AM, will provide illumination and relief! Meanwhile, I’m on the hunt for a caffeinated beverage… while the Arak Coffee Ashur insisted I try at the gas station wasn’t half bad, I’m in dire need of a cold diet soda. Heck, I’d even take a Diet Pepsi that’s how despearately jonesing I am.
