Mutrah Souk and Wadi Dayqah

Following my trip into the mountains I decided my Kia required a proper service; it needed new tyres, radiator, aircon filters and brakes. I took it to the garage on the Wednesday in the hope I would go camping again with some colleagues on the Friday. Sadly this was not to be, and my temporary Renault Megane would not be suitable for the route they were taking, back through Wadi Ban Auf and up the steep gravel road to Hat.

I filled a bit of time on Friday evening by visiting the main souk in Mutrah, a sprawling maze of alleyways lined with small shops selling everything from gold jewellery, exotic perfumes, colourful garments and shawls, cardamon coffee, real and replica khanjars (daggers) and all manner of antiques, artifacts and tat for passing tourists. The souk has a main entrance on the corniche where most visitors make the mistake of buying their trinkets and paying double or treble the usual price. The trick is to keep walking, taking a few lefts and rights before you start shopping. I did not bring my camera as I would be charged more so there are no photos for now.

After a long wander through the alleyways I found a row of four Frankincense shops, their elderly Omani owners sat outside looking thoroughly bored. I entered the first one and, after some bargaining, purchased a kilo of Frankincense, charcoal, two small clay pots and a miniature blowtorch for all of 8 rials and 500 basers (about £12). At the rate I am burning it my supply will last a good few months. Either way it does a good job of covering up the smell of curry in the house, my main staple since moving here. And it beats buying those preposterously expensive candles and diffusers you find in John Lewis; for the price of one candle you can purchase 5 kilos of the stuff. So if any wise men happen upon the birth of a new prophet, it is no longer an option for impressing the mother!

On Saturday I woke up to a scorching hot day. Summer has arrived, albeit the intense humidity has not yet taken hold. I decided to drive south east towards the coastal town of Quriyat, about 30 kilometres further down the coast from As Sifah (but only accessible from the main coastal road). The carriageway is an impressive feat of engineering, winding its way across several valleys before meeting a barren plain, passing through the sprawling town of Al Hajar, and then following the edge of the impassable mountains which stretch for 50 kilometres east from Muscat along the coast.

After an hour I spotted some brown signs (tourist site) for "Wadi Dayqah Dam" and decided to take a look. The road cut across a few ridge lines before the huge concrete structure came into view, towering over the nearby town of Al Mazara. The dam was about 80 metres high and 400 metres across with water tumbling down the face. At the bottom of the dam local people were cooling off in the water (it was 43 degrees), whilst the more adventurous were scaling up the dam and sitting on the steps.

Wadi Dayqah Dam

One way to cool off.

Since the dam was completed it has became a major tourist attraction and boasts a large car park, visitor centre, restaurant and helipad. I saw a few Government Officials and some visiting Saudi and Emirati nationals (you can tell by number plates and / or dress) whilst I was there. In one of the driest countries on earth the sight of a blue freshwater lake surrounded by mountains draws large crowds, old and young generations alike. Despite advances in technology and increasing numbers of desalinisation plants, water is still of great importance to people across Oman and Arabia, especially many rural communities still dependent on the ancient natural Falaj systems for their irrigation. The coming of rain is still much anticipated even if it is just a passing shower. I think the complete opposite can be said of my home country.

The resulting lake stretches 6km back through the wadi.

An oasis of date palms fills the valley close to Al Mazara.

I left Wadi Dayqah and headed north to Quriyat. At 1530 in the afternoon the town was empty, apart from the hundreds of tired goats hogging every available spot in the shade. I eventually found a small dishevelled cafe where I ordered a chicken sandwich and orange juice. I regretted the decision after the owner spent half an hour dissecting dozens of oranges and carefully removing bread crusts. From there I decided to head back, although I ended up taking a wrong turning and following a windy (and very fun) mountain top road which eventually met up with the main carriageway. When I arrived back in Muscat I stopped by Ruwi district to catch the sunset. Between 1830 - 1900 the whole valley lights up as numerous calls to Maghrib prayers from the mosque loudspeakers echo over the rooftops.

Once prayers were over everybody hit the shops and I spent another half hour stuck in the chaotic traffic out of Ruwi. Unlike the chicken sandwich, I didn't regret it for seeing sunset.

Could you bring the Curry?

Last Thursday I was invited to go camping with some colleagues and their families. But on one condition: would I be able to transport a large vat of curry from Muscat to Fasah, a small village 180km away in the middle of the Al-Jabal al Akhdar mountain range? Some of my colleagues were leaving the day before and the curry would probably dissipate after 48 hours in their cars. So, armed with a brand new red Coleman coolbox, I accepted the task.

What made it challenging was my car, a second hand Kia Sorrento which has had one problem after another. Vehicles suffer out here and a combination of high temperatures, dust and Muscats road system ensure good business for carmechanics. Indeed garages and repair shops in Oman are as common as garden centres in Hampshire so if you do break down there is normally somewhere close by you can have it fixed. At least the petrol is only 17p a litre.

I left at midday on the Saturday following the road west out of Muscat, past Barka before turning left at Al-Muladdah and continuing south-west to the town of Rustaq. The car started well but as I passed Barka the road began to feel suspiciously more bumpy and 5km shy of Rustaq my front right tire burst. After changing the tire in the sweltering heat the brakes started to make a racket and, after limping to Rustaq to find all the garages closed until 4pm, I thought my journey was over. Miraculously whilst being taken to an open garage by a friendly local the noise ceased (some dislodged grit perhaps?) and despite an increasingly leaky radiator I took the chance to go on.

The only way through the otherwise impenetrable Al-Jabal al Akhdar mountains is the Wadi Bani Awf. The alternative route to Fasah would be a 200km drive from Rustaq via Ibri in the west, or back east to Muscat where you take the main road via Bidbid and Nizwa. So the narrow pass was busy and chaotic with vast engineering works taking place inbetween the small villages hidden behind date palms.

Wadi Bani Awf

Roads in Oman are regularly washed away by floodwater. For most of the year the wadi is a small trickle but for one or two days it becomes a deadly torrent which destroys everything in its path. The engineering work is an attempt to channel natures power. Whether my Kia made it through was another matter; I saw at least two cars with infant daughters sat steering on fathers lap, negotiating the noisy columns of lorries and trucks.

The wadi opens out on to large plateau surrounded on all sides by the mountains. Immediately to

the west was the small town of Fasah, mostly hidden amongst an oasis of irrigated date palms. The rest of the plateau is barren, littered with a few patches of withered trees and dry vegetation. More sporadic building was taking place as well, mostly new roads but also a few houses and schools were being constructed close to Fasah and Amq. In the distance further to the west is the summit Jebal Shams (literally 'mountain of the sun' in Arabic), a tower of jagged brown rock which soars 5000 feet above the plains and foothills below. It is one of the few places on earth where rock deep within the mantle has been forced through the crust, the enormous pressures giving the mountains their omninous, twisted and beautiful appearance. 

Jebal Shams in the Distance

We found an area to camp in a small valley not far from the village of Madruj, about 3 - 4km south west of the summit. The children were kept busy foraging for firewood in the nearby scrub and as the sun set we settled down for dinner. Upon opening the coolbox the curry was thankfully (and literally) in one piece, frozen inside the container. After a long days drive it was a welcome meal amongst good company. We spent the rest of the evening sat around the warm campfire watching dusk give way to a blanket of stars, Orion emerging briefly to the west above the ridgeline before disappearing. Being closer to the equator the stars move more quickly and I had my first go at filming them. At midnight the moon rose in the east, flooding the valley and mountains above with pale light. At this point I turned my camera off and managed a few hours sleep under canvass.

Is there a pub nearby?

Our Camp

I woke early the next morning. The valley was earily silent, broken only by the occasional call of a bird and loud snoring emanating from a nearby tent. I crept out of the camp and headed for a nearby hillock to catch the sunrise. On the way down I bumped into a friendly goat herder, an elderly gentleman probably in his early 70s wearing a white dishdasha and a pair of worn out reebok trainers. We exchanged greetings and seeing my camera asked if I could take his photo. He was possibly after a bit of money although I could not be sure. I showed him the photo and on he went, his goats slowly following him back down the valley.

The south eastern flank of Jebal Shams

The mountains soon lit up with sunlight and before too long the cool night temperatures gave way to blistering summer heat. After a hearty breakfast of scrambled egg and Arabic bread we packed our tents up and headed back towards Rustaq to visit the Fort. I will write about this at a later date, although I will say the vast battlements make for a good game of hide and seek. From there it was back to Muscat. Until next weekend, inshallah.

RoadTrip to As Sifah

I left early again on Saturday this time heading immediately east from Al Khuwair towards Ruwi. The roads were quiet again but markedly busier than Friday. Until last year weekends began on Thursday before it was changed to Friday to be more aligned with Western calenders. The UAE and Qatar were the first in 2006, and after Oman made the switch Saudi Arabia soon followed.

I stopped just before Ruwi for petrol. It cost just 7 Omani Rials or about £12 to fill the tank of my Kia Sorrento from near empty to full. I found my way through the bustling shopping streets in Ruwi to the As Sifah bypass road, although getting through Ruwi puts alot of people off using it. On the plus side I didn't see another car for about half an hour and there was a good view of the urban sprawl which has filled the valleys like water.

Al Kabir District, Muscat

From there the road cuts through the seemingly endless labyrinth jagged brown mountains, winding its away across ridge lines and valleys. It was the most fun I had driving in a long time negotiating one corner after another. About half way to As Sifah I took a detour to see Yiti beach, passing a couple of small townships and farms. All had seperate small mosques for men and women.

The beach at Yiti had been overtaken by a large resort development, although this has seemingly been put on hold for some time now. Much of the bay has already been filled in ready for construction. However the beach at the far east side remains untouched and the fishing village there continues to thrive. Tourism is part of the diversification strategy for most Gulf economies; oil and gas, or the demand for it, will not last forever unlike the sunshine. But part of the charm here is the continuation of a traditional way of life in many coastal and rural areas; the local fishermen have little need for change and seem content to live as they have always done.

I left Yiti and continued for another half hour east through the mountains. The road briefly meets the sea near a series of tidal bays called Bandar Al Khiran where you can hire small fishing boats and explore the waters. I arrived in As Sifah early afternoon and stopped for lunch at a small fish restaurant called As Sammak, literally the fisherman in Arabic. The fish was delicious, fresh caught the same morning. Also the restaurant sits on the edge of the beautiful sandy beach. With the afternoon sun beating down I stayed at As Sammak for a couple of hours, reading two more chapters of Travels in Dictionary Land before heading along to the beach to the fishing village, trying not to tread on the small purple jellyfish washed up on the sand.

As Sifah village sits at the north end of the beach. About 3 - 4km to the south is another resort, "Jebel Sifah", which unlike Yiti is partially complete and thankfully far enough away from the village not to notice. This was the reason why such a good road had been built between Muscat and here.

As Sifah Beach - the Jebel Sifah resort is in the distance.

As Sifah Fishing Village

The village is sizeable, perhaps 500 - 1000 occupants and has a couple of small stores and two sizeable mosques. It is dominated by a medieval Portuguese watchtower which nests on a small round hill at the south end. The Portuguese colonised Muscat and much of the coastline in the 14th Century, and numerous ruins can be found near the towns and harbours. I will write about this period later.

Watchtower on the left, mosque at the bottom of the hill on the right.

I arrived just before afternoon prayers so many of the villagers were slowly congrating around the main mosque situated below the watchtower. I attempted to find a way up to the watchtower but the only clear path was (I think) close to the mosque. I did not wish to disturb prayers so I walked back through the village, attracting the interest of the numerous goats and donkeys roaming freely on the empty streets. There were no vehicles or traffic, the only sounds being the calls to prayer, grunting of animals and waves beating on the sand.

As close as I could get.

Goats in boats.

A fishermen repairing his nets at dusk.

As the evening light drew in I walked back along the beach greeting the local fishermen as I went and always receiving a friendly smile back. En route back to Muscat numerous football pitches I failed to notice en route came alive near every town and village, small crowds gathering to watch their teams. Part of me wanted to stop and watch, however the light was closing fast and I was keen to get back to Muscat before dark. I drove back through Ruwi again, its streets alive with activity after more prayers, all the men wearing spotless dishdashas and embroided caps.

This will be my last post for a week or so as I will be busy moving into my house this weekend. I may also be deprived of internet for a few days. However I will hopefully be heading out again next weekend. Until next time.