Somehow Oman isn’t anything like what I expected. To the degree that I ever thought about the country before this trip, it was to lump it together with Yemen and think of it as a poorer, strife-ridden cousin of a place like Dubai or Kuwait. Well, I have a new perspective. It appears very modern, prosperous and peaceful.
Sailing into Muscat is beautiful. High mountains ring the city. The waters are clear. The old earth colored fortress and the white minarets of the mosques define the skyline.
We decide to take a daylong tour titled the Enchanting Forts of Nizwa. This tour of four forts will take us a hundred or so miles inland and through the Hajar Mountains.
As the bus wends westward, the landscape reminds me of Palm Springs and its environs. Tall mountains circle a sere, flat valley bisected by a broad freeway. There is little vegetation, and there are broad, dry washes from when it does rain. The many modern housing developments favor a heavy planting of palm trees. On the outskirts of Muscat, there is a long row of lavish car dealerships, representing every European, American, Japanese and Chinese car manufacturer (and a couple I don’t know). And don’t forget the Pizza Hut, McDonalds, Burger King and Hardees franchise restaurants along the highway.
Just add a heavy dose of crenellations to the house rooftops (Omanis seem to want everything to look like the old fortresses that dot the landscape). And instead of encircling the developments with gates and walls, they separate each property with its own tall wall and entry. And change all the highway and store signs to display both English and Arabic. And, of course, dress the men in white robes and cover the heads of all the women.
Oh . . . and ensure that there is no sign anywhere of litter, graffiti, poverty, homelessness, or potholes. And then tell me that there are no taxes of any kind and that gas sell for about $1 for three liters. Okay, I guess it’s not so much like Palm Springs after all. When you sit on a pool of oil and have a benevolent Sultan, life is different.
But back to the forts. We visit the 17th century fort called Nizwa and the major souk, or marketplace that borders it. We also stop at the very impressive Bahla fort and tour Jabrin Castle—which has a particularly impressive set of painted ceilings. This castle was once the palace of the emir. All of the stops offer impressive views and lots of staircases to clamor about.
In addition, every fort we visit is either beautifully restored or in the process of reaching that state. Apparently, the current Sultan is a strong proponent of restoration and preservation. However, some of my fellow passengers disapprove. Apparently they prefer decaying ruins. They complain it looks too much like the Morocco pavilion at Disney’s Epcot; incredibly they think things look too clean and grumble that like in Disneyland, you can’t buy a drink. (I give them a pass. I’m sure they’re just trying to be clever, and that’s why I pass along their words.)
In the meantime, I am eager for our next stops in Abu Dhabi and Dubai, which promise to show off spectacular modern architecture.
Robert adds: I have just (more or less) recovered from the small cold I caught. There is something that is jokingly referred to as “cruise ship croup”—especially on ships with predominantly older passengers. It’s basically a phlegmy and rheumy cough that makes its way from cabin to cabin, deck to deck. Honestly, in one of the lectures last week, I felt like I was sitting in the middle of a tuberculosis ward in an asylum back in the 1880s. But do these people stay in their cabins to recuperate? No they do not.
My own illness was just a day of sore throat followed by the inevitable (for me) cold. Nothing a good dose or two of Nyquil couldn’t conquer, but I did spend almost an entire day indoors and sleeping. Thanks to my medical professional siblings for always stressing that advice to me over the years.
But because I was only just starting to feel chipper, I did not go with Dennis on his 9-hour tour, but instead took the shuttle into the heart of Muscat town and walked around for a couple hours. I got to take my time and really watch the people go about their business. The souk marketplace was mostly crowded with tourists. (Our ship was just one of three docked in the harbor that day, and we are currently chasing them on our way to the next port. I hope our paths diverge soon because it just overwhelms some ports when there are multiple ships at the same time.)
I was able to concentrate on small details like the ornamentation around a window, the shape of a street lamp, and the decorative concrete tiles of the sidewalk. And as I’ve done on previous worldly visits, I found a couple street cats to sit down with and exchange a few meows. It’s a nice international language. We ended the day with a glass of champagne under the stars on the back deck of the ship, looking out at the colorful lights of the Muscat harbor. Just then, the minarets came alive with the musical call to prayer over their loudspeakers. It was a perfect way to end the day in Oman.
To check out Dennis’s novels, visit www.amazon.com/author/dennisfrahmann
frahmannthoughts 