Early Morning in Mutrah

Friday 11 April

I woke early and left the house by 5.30. The night sky was turning pale blue to the east and the street lights were still on. I headed east towards Old Muscat intent on seeing sunrise. The normally busy roads were empty; only on Sultan Qaboos Street and the other main roads did I see a few cars.

Muscat is not a conventional coastal city, if there is such a thing. The old city lies to the far east of the modern day urban sprawl which stretches for 30km west along the coast towards Seeb and Barka (the town I visited two weeks ago). Old Muscat nestles on the edge of a natural defensive harbour and is hemmed in on all sides by rugged, impassable mountains. In terms of size the old city is, at a guess, no larger than Westminster and its adjacent parks in central London. Since the reign of the present Sultan, who came to power in 1970, the city has increased a hundred fold spreading out along the coastal plains and valleys to the west. Old Muscat, and the neighbouring 'town' of Mutrah, remain largely cut off from the modern city by the sheer mountains, pierced only by a highway and coastal road which connects it with the rest of the city. 

My principle aim of the morning was to buy lunch at the fish market, but not before taking a quick walk in the nearby hills. I left the car at Riyam Park, between Old Muscat and Mutrah, eventually finding the walking path. It took me all of 25 minutes to clamber up and down the hills and was rewarded with a good view of Mutrah harbour being lit up by the sunrise, the Sultan's gigantic yacht dwarfing the nearby fishing boats. The way down was not straightforward as I had to scramble over a 'wadi dam' which prevents flash floodwater from engulfing the houses below; apparently it did not stop the nearby souk being flooded after a recent heavy deluge. After helping two nervous Indian IT technicians scramble down the side of the dam I headed for Mutrah Corniche.

Mutrah Harbour, overlooked by Mutrah Fort centre left. The Sultans Yacht is on the right.

Being early on a Friday morning almost everything was closed. A few locals were busy line fishing off the corniche, enticing small shoals with breadcrumbs, but it was otherwise quiet. However as I passed the entrance to souk I heard a shout of 'Es Salaam Alaykum, Good Morning', and a middle aged man in a white dishdasha and cap came bounding towards me. I had been spotted by one of the work guards, Talal, who I didn't recognise outside of his uniform. We exchanged pleasantries and news. He was out doing some part-time taxi work. I told him I was heading for the nearby fish market, but that I would buy him a coffee on the way back if he was still there. Muscat is a small place after all.

Mutrah Fort

The fish market lies at the far end of the corniche, and consists of a large dusty car park and warehouse roof. Unlike the rest of the town the market was a hive of activity at 7.30am. Fishermen were hurriedly bringing the nights catch from the harbour in wheelbarrows and many of the stalls were already fully stocked with almost every type of fish you can imagine: huge piles of mackeral; yellow fin tuna; small sharks; eels; sailfish; and a wide variety of different shellfish. The fishermen who did not have stalls under the roof simply set up shop in the car park, selling fish out of the boot of their trucks or tarpalin sheets laid out on the gravel. I wandered up and down trying to decide what to buy before settling down for what looked like a large cod (I know little about fish), and for all of 1.5 rials; about £2.10.

Hungry?

The old fish market is being replaced by a new purpose built trading hall under construction next door. Nevertheless it will remain a fish market. I just hope it retains the same loud and chaotic atmosphere as today.

I left just after 8.00 as the market was becoming busier. Fish in hand I headed back up the corniche where I bumped into Talal again. I offered to buy coffee but being typically Omani he was insistent I was his guest and he would make the purchase. We sat down on the pavement and chatted for a few minutes about how to make Omani coffee and the best places in Mutrah Souk to buy Frankincense. Apparently the best time to shop is early evening when the tourists disappear, in other words you are not overcharged. Tourists normally pay between 5 - 7 rials (about £8 - £11) for one kilo. However if you look in the right place and speak a bit of Arabic you can buy for less than 3 rials. Still I don't blame the traders for making gullible visitors pay a bit more. Just as we finished coffee Talal spotted a couple of American tourists in their late 50s ambling out of their nearby hotel. He rushed off and, I found out later, managed to bag a couple of city tours so he was pleased. I will do a Talal tour of Muscat in due course.

Mutrah Corniche

 
By 8.30 the sun was already beating down so I headed back, via a Portuguese watchtower, to my car. They are common on the Muscat coast; lonely outcrops of orderly rock on otherwise rugged headlands and shadows of bygone European empire. Now they offer another good viewpoint of the harbours below. I like to imagine what the view was like 100 years ago. Probably not much difference, although I don't think the Sultan in 1914 possessed quite such a large yacht.