I think this is my longest post to date. So either your in for a treat, or you’ll just pass over this evening’s brain dump and scan the pictures. Either way though I think you’ll be amazed by the beauty of this country.
Today’s planned adventure was through the area of Oman called Al Batinah. This is the northern coastal region that stretches from Muscat to the United Arab Emirates. Before going to bed, I reviewed my itinerary that I had developed for myself and realized I had myself driving close to 1000 kilometers. (not sure exactly what that converts to in miles, but it’s a lot). There was a lot I really wanted to see, but I suddenly realized, this was not feasible. So I struck Sohar from the list, which was the furthest place on my itinerary.
This focused my trip generally on a circular area known as the Rustaq loop. Generally very rural, with several small villages along the way. On my way to the loop, I stoped at the Bait Na’man.
Today’s planned adventure was through the area of Oman called Al Batinah. This is the northern coastal region that stretches from Muscat to the United Arab Emirates. Before going to bed, I reviewed my itinerary that I had developed for myself and realized I had myself driving close to 1000 kilometers. (not sure exactly what that converts to in miles, but it’s a lot). There was a lot I really wanted to see, but I suddenly realized, this was not feasible. So I struck Sohar from the list, which was the furthest place on my itinerary.
This focused my trip generally on a circular area known as the Rustaq loop. Generally very rural, with several small villages along the way. On my way to the loop, I stoped at the Bait Na’man.
Bait Na'man
Even though my tour book had a map I still had a difficult time finding it. (I think because the book had an error on the map.) Once I got to the general area, and found what looked like it was probably it, and asked some elderly Omanis sitting outside, and they confirmed. Crawling through a 4 foot by 3 foot door inset into the main gate, I entered the courtyard. Two Omanis in their 30s were sitting outside the door to the main building, and I asked them (in Arabic) if they spoke English, which they did. I asked if I had to pay, to which they answered no. I entered and happened upon a group of 6 Europeans of some sort (I think either French or Italian-only a couple of them spoke English) that had just begun a tour of the building with an English speaking Omani guide.
My Guide in Bait Na'man
Side Note: I have found that almost everyone I’ve run into here speaks decent to excellent English. I think there’s only one Omani that I met that didn’t speak English. Many of the Pakistani and Indian expatriates working here however don’t seem to speak English. It is interesting that on this country, where as in the US, it is Hispanic immigrants that fill many of the service jobs, such as hotel cleaning crew, landscaping, etc, in Oman, there is a similar phenomenon with the Indian and Pakistanis. (Haven’t seen anyone Hispanic yet…although oddly enough Ruwi Hotel was having a Tex Mex night in the restaurant. I was really curious as to how Omani interpretation of border area Mexican food would taste.
The museum was an old summer home of an Imam. (A leader in Oman prior to it becoming a Sultanate.) The house also served as a fortress, due to its resident’s high stature. Our guide took us through several rooms, all which were fully furnished with the type of items that would have originally been in it. A library with books, the entry way showcased some weapons, lounging rooms had the mat carpets and pillows for sitting, and the bedroom had a small bed. (Big enough for a man to sleep in though. Our guide demonstrated. It allowed for about half an inch of space above his head and below his feet.) It also housed a women’s prison, which was about 75 feet, with a little bit of light and a normal door. Then there was the mens prison, which was hole in a floor that dropped down about 15-20 feet to a pit in one of the towers. The guide explained that when the building was built (late 1600s) that laws were very tough on women, and men often jailed them for small infractions. (Today in Oman society there is basically gender equality, although I think that may stop when you enter a mosque)
The museum was an old summer home of an Imam. (A leader in Oman prior to it becoming a Sultanate.) The house also served as a fortress, due to its resident’s high stature. Our guide took us through several rooms, all which were fully furnished with the type of items that would have originally been in it. A library with books, the entry way showcased some weapons, lounging rooms had the mat carpets and pillows for sitting, and the bedroom had a small bed. (Big enough for a man to sleep in though. Our guide demonstrated. It allowed for about half an inch of space above his head and below his feet.) It also housed a women’s prison, which was about 75 feet, with a little bit of light and a normal door. Then there was the mens prison, which was hole in a floor that dropped down about 15-20 feet to a pit in one of the towers. The guide explained that when the building was built (late 1600s) that laws were very tough on women, and men often jailed them for small infractions. (Today in Oman society there is basically gender equality, although I think that may stop when you enter a mosque)
Ladies Meeting Room in Bait Na'man
My next stop was Al-Hazm fort which was on the Rustaq loop. Again I had a bit of trouble with this and had to ask a group of Omani’s on the street. I put my Arabic vocabulary to good use here by saying “Where is Al-Hazm Fort” as “Wayn al-Hazm fort?” Yep, couldn’t have gotten by with out that one…. I got to the fort, and walked up to the gate to notice a sign on the door saying it was closed for rehabilitation.
My next stop was Al-Hazm fort which was on the Rustaq loop. Again I had a bit of trouble with this and had to ask a group of Omani’s on the street. I put my Arabic vocabulary to good use here by saying “Where is Al-Hazm Fort” as “Wayn al-Hazm fort?” Yep, couldn’t have gotten by with out that one…. I got to the fort, and walked up to the gate to notice a sign on the door saying it was closed for rehabilitation.
Al Hazm Fort
Side Note: It seems that many of the attractions here frequently close for rehab work. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of communication or warning about it (that I know of) and many of these attractions only get a dozen or two visitors a day on week days (although much more on weekends).
I poked my head in to confirm with an Omani man inside the complex gate. He said yes it was closed, but I could look at the entry way if I wished. I went in and looked at it, and turned to leave. Internally I was quite disappointed as I really wanted to see this attraction. As I walked towards the gate, the Omani called to me and said “Will you have some coffee?” I have read that this is an offer that you cannot refuse, without causing offense. So I obliged. He invited me over to mat under a tree, where he and another Omani (this one a few years younger than me, but didn’t speak English-so I didn’t have much to say to him beyond “Hello-do you speak English.” Had I spilled on him I knew how to apologize, but I decided it wasn’t worth that just to further the conversation) were sharing coffee and fresh(?) dates. (They were dripping with date honey, but I’ve never had fresh dates, so I don’t know how/if they are prepared.) He opened up a Tupperware type container and shooed away a flock of a couple dozen flies, and picked up a date and put it in my hand. So I ate it. Then he gave me another, then 3 more at once. Faster than I could stuff them in my mouth he was stacking them up in my hand. At one point I went to put some in my left hand and remembered that is also a no-no. I sat for about 45 minutes talking with this gentleman named Rashid. We discussed Oman, politics, terrorism, Islam, plus a smattering of other topics. I noticed with him, as well as Thamir from the plan ride, that they take a lot of pride in their country. I told Rashid that I found it to be stunningly beautiful, and he thanked me with such graciousness you would think I paid him a personal compliment. Rashid spent some time, (as Thamir did) railing against the terrorist that have twisted Islam into something it should not be, and denounced them for the thousands of innocent lives of all races that they kill mercilessly. You could see the disgust and anger in his face.
Side Note: It seems that many of the attractions here frequently close for rehab work. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of communication or warning about it (that I know of) and many of these attractions only get a dozen or two visitors a day on week days (although much more on weekends).
I poked my head in to confirm with an Omani man inside the complex gate. He said yes it was closed, but I could look at the entry way if I wished. I went in and looked at it, and turned to leave. Internally I was quite disappointed as I really wanted to see this attraction. As I walked towards the gate, the Omani called to me and said “Will you have some coffee?” I have read that this is an offer that you cannot refuse, without causing offense. So I obliged. He invited me over to mat under a tree, where he and another Omani (this one a few years younger than me, but didn’t speak English-so I didn’t have much to say to him beyond “Hello-do you speak English.” Had I spilled on him I knew how to apologize, but I decided it wasn’t worth that just to further the conversation) were sharing coffee and fresh(?) dates. (They were dripping with date honey, but I’ve never had fresh dates, so I don’t know how/if they are prepared.) He opened up a Tupperware type container and shooed away a flock of a couple dozen flies, and picked up a date and put it in my hand. So I ate it. Then he gave me another, then 3 more at once. Faster than I could stuff them in my mouth he was stacking them up in my hand. At one point I went to put some in my left hand and remembered that is also a no-no. I sat for about 45 minutes talking with this gentleman named Rashid. We discussed Oman, politics, terrorism, Islam, plus a smattering of other topics. I noticed with him, as well as Thamir from the plan ride, that they take a lot of pride in their country. I told Rashid that I found it to be stunningly beautiful, and he thanked me with such graciousness you would think I paid him a personal compliment. Rashid spent some time, (as Thamir did) railing against the terrorist that have twisted Islam into something it should not be, and denounced them for the thousands of innocent lives of all races that they kill mercilessly. You could see the disgust and anger in his face.
Eating Dates and Drinking Arabian Coffee (Rashid not show-He is taking the picture)
He asked me what most American’s think of Oman. I told him that honestly, many Americans unfortunately don’t even know where it is, and when they do, think it is a dangerous place because it is in the middle east. He then directed me to tell them what a peaceful place it is. “All Omanis is peaceful. Everywhere, everytown, every place. We are peaceful people. No Americans should ever be afraid to come to my country. They are very welcome here. America is good friend of Oman.” Before I left, he made me give him my cell phone number, and he provided me his, and traded phone calls to ensure that we had them. He said to tell my friends to come to Oman, and if they need anything call him, as he will help. Even if its not right away, even if it’s a few weeks. After pigging out on 20 dates or so, he poured me some authentic Arabic coffee (served in a coffee cup a little less than an ounce in size. A little different tasting than normal coffee, and served black. I believe it is made with cardamom as well, although I read that….I have no idea what cardamom is, but I’m guessing most of my readers do.) I graciously thanked him for the hospitality and conversation, but told him I had many more sites I hoped to visit today. I left the courtyard of Al-Hazm fort much more fulfilled than I had expected to.
After this point, I noticed the culture of friendliness that seemed to exude from all the residents here. On streets, as I passed by, they would smile and wave as I drove by. If I was walking, they would tap the horn and smile and wave as they drove by. And people on the street would go out of their way to make small talk, young and old alike. Something I’ve seen and experienced only on occasion in the US…not continuously as here.
My next stop was Rustaq fort. This is one of the oldest in Oman. It was estimated to have been built about 400 years before Islam came to Oman, which would place its age at roungly 1800 years old. This fort is huge. Coincidentally, while this fort is about 100 kilometers (sorry everyone, that’s the local unit of measure, and since nothing is stated in miles, I’m not trying to figure out the conversion for your benefit) from Bait Na’man, and it was now 2-3 hours later, I happened to walk in with the same group that I was with at Na’man.
He asked me what most American’s think of Oman. I told him that honestly, many Americans unfortunately don’t even know where it is, and when they do, think it is a dangerous place because it is in the middle east. He then directed me to tell them what a peaceful place it is. “All Omanis is peaceful. Everywhere, everytown, every place. We are peaceful people. No Americans should ever be afraid to come to my country. They are very welcome here. America is good friend of Oman.” Before I left, he made me give him my cell phone number, and he provided me his, and traded phone calls to ensure that we had them. He said to tell my friends to come to Oman, and if they need anything call him, as he will help. Even if its not right away, even if it’s a few weeks. After pigging out on 20 dates or so, he poured me some authentic Arabic coffee (served in a coffee cup a little less than an ounce in size. A little different tasting than normal coffee, and served black. I believe it is made with cardamom as well, although I read that….I have no idea what cardamom is, but I’m guessing most of my readers do.) I graciously thanked him for the hospitality and conversation, but told him I had many more sites I hoped to visit today. I left the courtyard of Al-Hazm fort much more fulfilled than I had expected to.
After this point, I noticed the culture of friendliness that seemed to exude from all the residents here. On streets, as I passed by, they would smile and wave as I drove by. If I was walking, they would tap the horn and smile and wave as they drove by. And people on the street would go out of their way to make small talk, young and old alike. Something I’ve seen and experienced only on occasion in the US…not continuously as here.
My next stop was Rustaq fort. This is one of the oldest in Oman. It was estimated to have been built about 400 years before Islam came to Oman, which would place its age at roungly 1800 years old. This fort is huge. Coincidentally, while this fort is about 100 kilometers (sorry everyone, that’s the local unit of measure, and since nothing is stated in miles, I’m not trying to figure out the conversion for your benefit) from Bait Na’man, and it was now 2-3 hours later, I happened to walk in with the same group that I was with at Na’man.
Rustaq Fort
We had a guide for this museum as well, however, he seemed to be in a hurry and kept disappearing, so we ended up doing more wandering on our own. Interesting comparison of a site such as this in a land untouched by tort litigation. Every section of the fort was open: A wooden ladder up to one of the highest towers, our guide said go ahead and climb it.
Corridor in Rustaq Fort
One of the other group challenged him thinking he was kidding, but he insisted we could. He then chickened out, so I tried it, and climbed the 18 feet or so up to the tower (although there was nothing exciting up there---the walls were high enough you could only see out of the small windows.) Some areas had staircases with no railings that went up 15 feet to the lookout which was a catwalk between 8 and 3 feet wide, that you could walk around to your liking. I took 4 steps on to the narrow part, and then my acrophobia kicked in and I grabbed the wall and shuffled back. Amazing piece of history this fort was.
View from the Top of Rustaq Fort
Next I took a quick trip to the Nakhal springs. Located behind the village of Nakhal, you have to navigate through some of the village streets to get there. Village streets are very interesting here. Almost every house has a wall or gate around it that is 5-6 feet high. So the streets are winding corridors in and around all the houses. Some are wide enough for 2 cars to barely squeeze by, some you have to crawl through and watch both your mirrors to make sure they don’t scrape. I have ended up down some that went on for a couple miles, where I wasn’t sure if I’d ever find my way out.
Nakhal Springs
Side Note: I recently watched a video about one of the US military units that was sabotaged in Iraq. I suddenly understood the immense fear and unease of having to navigate the streets of Iraq, which are very similarly setup. Except in some areas of Iraq, the locals are not waving in smiling, as they do everywhere here. There they are glaring and waving guns. I could only imagine being in that situation, heading down a road that you hope will open up on to a main road, and after a mile or two, it narrows down to the point that it is impassible to vehicles. Now the worst part is, that every individual in town that you drove past, have now gone back to their houses, and got their weapons, and are waiting for you, and in the meantime have blocked the road, because they knew you couldn’t get out. I can not even imagine.
Once I got to my destination, I suddenly found water running over the street, and a small falaj along the side of the road with water running through it. There was a place to park, and several picnic tables with umbrellas set up, and several tiny falajs leading from the rocks with water rushing out. Towards the back of this area was a large pool that had been formed with natural spring water pouring into it from out of the rocks. I dipped my hand in, and it was hot! (OK, I’ve never been to a hot spring, so if you have, I guess your not surprised by this.) Probalby about 105-110 degrees. There were several boys in their teens and twenties bathing in the water, and one repeatedly invited me to join, and as tough as it was, I declined, as I still wanted to see more Oman. But it really looked nice….
Right down the road was my final archaeological site that I wanted to see for the day. The village of Muslimat.
Old Muslimat
The small village itself is not spectacular, but within the city of new brick and mortar homes, are the ruins of some old mud homes. I have many such sites on my itinerary for Wednesday, but this is the first one I got to look at. The sun was quickly setting, so I got out of my car, and began briskly walking in, around, and through the remains of theses old houses. Amazing.
Doorway from home in Muslimat
I have never seen anything like this, it was utterly surreal, and I don’t know how else to explain it. These homes are not that old, my guide book says they are only a few decades old. Because they were made of mud, they don’t hold up long term against heavy rains. One building which had half collapsed, now had exposed the shelves in the upstairs room, and the yellow and red paint on the walls. Looking at the picture now, there is something sitting on the shelf. I don’t remember seeing that, but now I wish I had looked closer.
Ruined Home in Muslimat
Many of these I was afraid to look too closely, as they looked to be potentially very unstable, and didn’t want to become a news story about an American trapped under a ton of mud in Muslimat. At this point I had a 2 and a half hour drive in front of me to get to Nizwa where I am staying Tuesday night.
The scenery throughout the hundreds of kilometers of driving around the Rustaq loop was absolutely breathtaking. The road snaked around all the jebels, so that many times,every direction you looked there were huge rock formations scraping at the sky, so that it looked like there was no possible way out. Also interesting, that there were dozens of wadis (valleys where the runoff water flows) that crossed the road, and you could see the erosion of the pavement where water periodically runs over this. They say that rain in the mountains may not even be seen down on the ground, but that a flash flood can suddenly occur in the wadis. The thought of suddenly being stuck behind all these mountains was more than a little disconcerting….
My final stop for the evening was dinner at bin Ateeq restaurant in Nizwa. This is a restaurant chain in Oman (6 throughout the country) that serves dinner in a traditional family style. Which let me say that going to any kind of a family style restaurant by yourself really makes you feel like a big dork. Not to mention, it amplified my feeling of homsickness sitting down to such a nice family dinner without my family. It certainly would have been great to have experienced it with them. But I couldn’t leave Oman with out it. They lead you to a private room, split off from the hall by a sliding door, and the neighboring room by a 5 foot wall. You remove your shoes before entering. There is a round carpet on the floor, and pillows leaning against the wall. Dinner had quite a few options. I requested the Lobster Biryani, but they were unfortunately out of lobster, so I settled for the same meal with prawns. It was a large mound of rice similar to what I had in India with prawns mixed in and a variety spices mixed in.
The scenery throughout the hundreds of kilometers of driving around the Rustaq loop was absolutely breathtaking. The road snaked around all the jebels, so that many times,every direction you looked there were huge rock formations scraping at the sky, so that it looked like there was no possible way out. Also interesting, that there were dozens of wadis (valleys where the runoff water flows) that crossed the road, and you could see the erosion of the pavement where water periodically runs over this. They say that rain in the mountains may not even be seen down on the ground, but that a flash flood can suddenly occur in the wadis. The thought of suddenly being stuck behind all these mountains was more than a little disconcerting….
My final stop for the evening was dinner at bin Ateeq restaurant in Nizwa. This is a restaurant chain in Oman (6 throughout the country) that serves dinner in a traditional family style. Which let me say that going to any kind of a family style restaurant by yourself really makes you feel like a big dork. Not to mention, it amplified my feeling of homsickness sitting down to such a nice family dinner without my family. It certainly would have been great to have experienced it with them. But I couldn’t leave Oman with out it. They lead you to a private room, split off from the hall by a sliding door, and the neighboring room by a 5 foot wall. You remove your shoes before entering. There is a round carpet on the floor, and pillows leaning against the wall. Dinner had quite a few options. I requested the Lobster Biryani, but they were unfortunately out of lobster, so I settled for the same meal with prawns. It was a large mound of rice similar to what I had in India with prawns mixed in and a variety spices mixed in.
My Dinner at Bin Ateeq
It also came with a salad, and I ordered a fruit smoothie to drink. The meal was of course closed with to staples of Omani dining: Arabic coffee and more dates. All this for 4.80 Rials, which is about $12. It was quite good.
More Dates and Coffee
Looking back at the day in summary, I am truly amazed at the hospitality and friendliness that all of the locals seem to be brimming with here. When you look at areas like Afghanistan, Iran, and Palestine, and see how poverty, instability, and power struggles have resulted in an innate aggression and violence in the people that live there, it is amazing to me that a country such as Oman, which from what I understand has gone through much of the same. Oman turned a huge corner in 1970 when His Majesty Sultan Qaboos bin Said staged a peaceful coup against his father, and took over the country at the age of 30. Yet, from corner to corner, it seems to be filled with compassionate, friendly people. Truly an amazing place. I also find it interesting that all the sites I have gone to, most are free, and at most, I’ve paid $2.50 to enter. Some of the forts are government owned, but even the ones that are held by individuals. They are offering the tours for free, without even a donation box. It is just another sign of the tremendous pride they have in their country, and how much they want to share it with others.
3 comments:
I felt bad you had a shitty time in Bangkok since I think it is a great city and recommended it so highly to you. But I felt better (even though I had nothing to do with this) when I read this post. Sitting and having coffee and dates will be a memory that will last longer than all the buildings combined. That type of thing is what traveling is all about.
Hi,
And to think at one time you and Anthony lived on cheese pizza and hamburger, because you wouldn't try anything else. Has anyone offered you scrambled eggs yet?
We're all loving your blog. Even grandma is getting computer savvy, reading it with me.
We think you could be the next "Rick Steves"
Nope-still won't eat eggs. This morning I had a very light breakfast, and am still hungry because I got to the hotel restaurant at 10 minutes to 10:00am (when they stop serving-I didn't get in to my Dubai hotel until 3:00am, so I tried to sleep as long as possible) and all they had left was eggs and toast. So I stuck to toast.
Grover-no worries. What fun is a round the world trip without at least a little bit of "the revenge". I think I would have had a great time, had it not been for the stomach thing.
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