Boating in the Musandam with Abdul Hameed Alawahdi and Friends

Abdul Hameed, left, is a natural-born host and organizer.

Last year, camping with Abdul Hameed was the highlight of the season, and has remained the all-time most popular blog story. Unfortunately, this year Abdul couldn’t set up the camp because he was unable to borrow Salim, his Bangladeshi man Friday, from the family farm for the season. Salim learned how to cook at camp, and now he cooks at the farm. Without Salim to watch over camp during the week, everything could disappear. And it isn’t easy to hire someone for only a few months, even for the well-connected Abdul.

So instead, Abdul Hameed organized a boating trip in the Musandam with Khasab Travel & Tours.

The Norway of Arabia

Musandam is in the northern tip of the Arabian peninsula, jutting out into the Straits of Hormuz. This Omani exclave, geographically separated from the rest of Oman by UAE borders, shares control of the Strait of Hormuz with Iran. It’s also a tourist destination because of its rugged beauty and opportunities for fishing, diving and dolphin watching. It’s a fantastically remote and peaceful place. You would never know that you were in one of the strategic hot spots on the planet.

The Musandam has Iran as its neighbor to the north, across the Strait of Hormuz

 Our boating trip began in the town of Khasab, which dates to the beginning of the 17th century at the height of the Portuguese naval presence. To get there, we left Abu Dhabi on Friday morning, driving northeast through Dubai to Ras Al Khaimah (RAK,) where we rendezvoused with Abdul, his cousins and the other Arab guys from Mark’s work who were coming on the trip. We had Tom riding with us. Dana and Deb were in Dana’s car along with Dana’s son Jared and Jared’s girlfriend Hollie, who were visiting from Pasadena, California and had spent the previous two days in Dubai. Our boat would leave on Friday evening and return 24 hours later, on Saturday.

The American guests: Hollie, Jared, Deb, Dana, Anne, Mark, and Tom

But first, we made a stop at the Barracuda liquor store, which is located in a run-down looking resort of the same name in the emirate of Um Al Quwain, between Dubai and RAK. Barracuda is quite famous with expats for being the best place to buy alcohol, even if you live in Abu Dhabi, which is hours away. While there are small liquor stores scattered around – we have a High Spirits near our apartment compound – it’s always hit-or-miss depending on what they have in stock. And there is absolutely no packaged alcohol sold in the hypermarkets or anywhere but a liquor store. Just like pork, you have to go someplace special. Although I must admit that it’s easier to get booze than pork.

We bought some of these pre-mixed cocktails
which come in very handy on road trips.

Barracuda has a wide selection of everything. Two rooms of wines from around the world, pretty good selection of beers, and a great selection of vodkas, high quality scotches, the best tequilas – you get the idea. And it’s all beautifully displayed. For me, it’s fun just to get to see the displays, many of which are custom-made, or “bespoke” as they call it here, and really deserve their own blog photo story.

We picked up a few bottles of this and that, a couple cases of beer, sampled some cheeses at the gourmet store, and were on our way again to meet Abdul.

After lunch at a mall food court, we formed a car caravan and headed up along the rugged RAK coastline to the Oman border crossing near Shams. Border crossings are always a crap shoot for expats. With Abdul and the other Emirati nationals patiently waiting, we went inside and found ourselves delayed because they had run out of the forms they require us to fill out. Um, hello, this is the only thing they do here! You would think they could just ask us for the information and type it into the computer but … oh well, the forms finally arrived, we paid our exit fees, got passport stamps, and we were almost through the gauntlet. One more check point, where the Omani border guards looked in the back of our vehicle. We briefly wondered if they would want to know what was inside the telltale opaque bags from Barracuda, but apparently that wasn’t what they were checking for. Sweet relief.

Khasab Travel & Tours is
a large operation with many boats

We wound our way along the coastline to Khasab, pulling into the parking lot at about 4:30 p.m. just as our boat was arriving in port and unloading a group of passengers. In no time, they had hauled all of our belongings across several day trip boats to our modified three-level dhow, and we were motoring out.

What would a boat be
without cushions and Persian rugs?

Meanwhile, we wasted no time getting relaxed. There were several coolers of ice for the beverages, and Abdul had brought several bags of snacks. The guys were still unwinding from a very busy week at the IDEX International Defence Exhibition and Conference, which Mark has said he will write a guest blog about but I'll believe it when I see it, inshallah. They were ready to kick back.

The private bathroom was very nice to have.

The boat had eight cabins containing two bunks each, and private “heads” – bathrooms, which were equipped with showers. We had three couples on board, and the rest were “bachelors” – which is what we in the U.S. sometimes call men who are traveling “stag.”

Our host and Arab friends

We learned way back when we camped with Abdul last year, and it’s been reinforced in many ways since then, that Arab husbands and wives do many activities separately. American women usually see this leaving the wives behind as unacceptable, but it’s totally normal for them. The fact is, Arab men spend time with their families. And they also do a lot of the grocery shopping.

Limestone layers

If you expect a coastline with at least some vegetation, it will be a visual shock to contemplate the barren limestone of the Musandam peninsula. This place, called “The Norway of Arabia” by the tourism industry, is the definition of stark beauty. We motored out, and as we gazed at the rugged cliffs with their undulating layers, uplifted and bent by the collision of the Asian and Indian tectonic plates, Abdul pointed and said, “There are jinn there.”


Ah, jinn! I’ve been reading up on them, and I am fascinated with their prominence in the Arab culture, particularly in the mountain villages in Oman and the UAE, and how they have transitioned into American popular culture. According to Wikipedia:

The jinn, or genies, are spirits mentioned in the Qurʾān and Islamic theology who inhabit an unseen world in dimensions beyond the visible universe of humans. Together, the jinn, humans and angels make up the three sentient creations of God. The Qurʾan mentions that the jinn are made of a smokeless and "scorching fire" and they have the physical property of weight. Similar to humans, jinn have free will allowing them to do as they choose (such as follow any religion). They are usually invisible to humans, and humans do not appear clearly to them. Jinn have the power to travel large distances at extreme speeds and are thought to live in remote areas, mountains, seas, trees, and the air, in their own communities. Like humans, jinn will also be judged on the Day of Judgment and will be sent to Paradise or Hell according to their deeds.

With Cindy and Mohammed at
Al Bidya mosque near their home

I mentioned that jinn are in the book I’m writing about my American friend Cindy Davis who married her Emirati husband Mohammed Ali Alhammadi in 1982 at age twenty. Abdul knows them well. Cindy once had trouble with a jinn in the house, or some kind of black magic.

“She married a jinn,” Abdul said. What!? Mohammed Ali? A jinn? “What makes you say that?” I asked. “Bad things happen and Mohammed is there,” Abdul replied. I don’t know, because jinn are not human and human are not jinn. Perhaps Mohammed is a jinx! I’ll have to ask Cindy what she thinks of this comment.

Arabian sunset

As we watched the sun sink, the little fishing pangas that were dotting the sea began to race back toward their villages. We were anchored far away from but within sight of the Omani navy base.

The moon, which was a day shy of full and visible all afternoon in the sky, brightened. There was a big discussion about why the moon appears white with grey spots. What color is it, really? People had theories, but the group never could agree.

Dana had an interesting fishing technique.

Then, we fished in the dark. Abdul had brought a few kilos of fresh squid, sliced and ready to go. Personally, I would have been happy to just dip the squid in some batter, fry it up, and enjoy it as calamari fritti. It was that fresh.

Mark's first fish.

Using thick nylon fishing line on large spools, we each baited a couple of hooks and dropped them to sit on the bottom. Pretty soon people started pulling in fish.

Abdul was going to bring more food, to be sure we didn't
run out. Fortunately, the tour company convinced him
not to do it, saying "We have never run out of food!"

We decided to have dinner at 9:30 p.m. and right on time, a buffet spread came out with all of my Arab favorites. Hummus, mutabal (eggplant dip), garlicky yogurt dip, Greek and fattoush salads, rice, chicken, and delicious barbecued fish – not the fish we caught, but larger ones that had been marinating since we came aboard.

Some people got up early to fish while others slept.

We fished more after dinner, there was some talk of card games, but people started dropping off to sleep. In the end, nobody slept in any of the cabins. It was just too wonderful not to sleep out under the moon and stars. Despite the full moon, Mark and I spotted Orion and the Big Dipper although he insisted they were in the wrong place.

The instant Nescafe in little packets tastes really good on a boat. 

I woke up to see the sky getting light as the sun lingered behind the crags. I love seeing the sunrise on a boat even more than I love the sunset. There is a very practical reason for this. I tend to get seasick on overnight races if I see the sun go down and stay on deck until after it’s dark. I lose the horizon, and I lose my equilibrium.








But when the sun comes up, and I can see the horizon, all is well including me. Plus, I just feel such peace and promise in the rising sun.

The boat was equipped with at TV.
That's the Omani Navy outside.

A boat came over from the naval base and lurked near us, so we weighed anchor and motored out. We then drifted offshore and fished more. I finally caught a few of the little pink fish that Mark had been catching which Abdul called Sultan Ibrahim.

Mark mimics the way
the fish's tongue hangs out.

Mark threw his first one back, but Abdul said “No, no! it is good to eat. The smaller the better.” I’ve since looked them up and found them in the food blog of an American wife called Emiratican Kitchen which will now be my go-to source for information about how to cook the local foods. Sultan Ibrahim, when they are small, seasoned and deep fried, taste like shrimp.












Breakfast was served. There were eggs three ways – scrambled, cheese omelet, and boiled. Also, fresh fruit – the watermelon and cantaloupes you get here are wonderful. And with every meal, there is delicious yogurt and Arabic bread.

Approaching Telegraph Island

Next we headed into the Elphinstone Inlet, home of the famous Telegraph Island – which I had never heard of but Mark and the other guys knew about. According to Wikipedia:








In the 19th century, it was the location of a British repeater station used to boost telegraphic messages along the Persian Gulf submarine cable, which was part of the London to Karachi telegraphic cable. It was not an easy posting for the operators, with the severe summer heat and hostility of local tribes making life extremely uncomfortable. Because of this, the island is, according to some travel agents and journalists, where the expression "go round the bend" comes from, a reference to the heat making British officers desperate to return to civilization, which meant a voyage around the bend in the Strait of Hormuz back to India.

Today, Telegraph Island is an eerie reminder of the British Empire. Abandoned in the mid-1870s, the island has remained deserted and only the crumbling ruins of the repeater station and the operators' quarters can be seen. As tourism has grown in the Gulf region, so the island is regularly visited by dhows carrying tourists to view the ruins and to fish and snorkel in the waters around it. However, the intense heat (particularly in the summer months) endures.

Our boat stayed in the western Musandam, but around the bend from Khasab, about 60 miles south of the tip, is the town of Dibba. Dibba’s natural harbor is another popular place to catch a boat tour up the eastern Musandam, and there are several 5-star resort and spa hotels along the coast as well.
 

The tip of the Musandam Peninsula

All that yoga paid off.

We anchored at Telegraph Island, and everyone got ready to swim. I inflated my ULI stand-up paddleboard and took a little cruise to the shore. The snorkeling didn’t look that good, which Mark confirmed later. He had brought his scuba equipment, including two tanks that we rented in Abu Dhabi, but he didn’t use them. I gave Hollie a little quick instruction on the SUP, and she turned out to be a natural, which I suspected she would be after she told me how much yoga she does.






Later, Hollie and I paddled across the inlet to explore the shoreline.
 
 
 

The brown dhows are for day excursions. Ours was the white one.

 
I must admit that I didn’t walk on the Telegraph Island – I had forgotten to wear shoes on the board and when I stepped onto land after giving the SUP to Hollie, I could feel the coral slicing my feet, so I swam back to the boat. Warning: be sure to wear shoes when you are walking on rocks and coral anywhere in the Middle East! Tom’s wife Lucy (who in case you are wondering is back in the USA taking care of the two elderly mothers, hers and Tom’s) got a cut bad enough to need several stitches last year just on a tiny piece of coral that was in the sand in the Abu Dhabi mangroves.
 














Next was lunch which was another huge and delicious spread, and then dolphin watching. The Indo-Pacific Bottlenose Dolphin is the most common cetacean in the Gulf. They are slightly narrower and lighter in color than other Bottlenose and are very social, swimming over to the boats and leaping out of the water. We often see the very social Bottlenose when we’re out sailing in the waters off of Abu Dhabi, where they swim around and play with Unwind. We also see the shyer, less common  Indo-Pacific Humpback Dolphin. I believe the dolphins we saw that day were Pacific Humpbacks. Although they did swim alongside the boats a bit, they did not put on the porpoise show that we would expect from Bottlenose, and they had the humps and elongated fins. The Pacific Humpback and even more rare Finless Dolphins are considered endangered.
After the dolphin watching, we cruised around the shoreline, napped, and listened to Tom’s eclectic iPod mix while trying to finish up the chilled beverages in the coolers.

Isolated little fishing towns dotted the coast.

I was fascinated by the remote fishing villages, where ruins of mud and stone buildings crumble alongside newer structures, and I wonder if they have been there for centuries. The only way to get there is by boat. Do families live there, or just “bachelor” fishermen, while their wives and children live in town? Mark and I were curious about what looked like power or telephone lines strung on poles along the shoreline. How and why did they come to be there?




At 5:00 p.m. we pulled back into the harbor at Khasab, and it was over all too soon. But I heard a rumor that Abdul is already planning another trip in April, for big game fish. Maybe we'll go "round the bend!"

Watch for the next post, in which we spend a night at the Golden Tulip Hotel in Khasab, have lunch at Abdul's home in Dubai, and meet his Moroccan wife and children.

Thanks for reading, and try not to step on any jinn..

Boating in the Musandam, Oman VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

Above It All–A Perspective

 

I have come to appreciate Earth from above. Whereas I once dreaded flying – we could crash, and all surely die! – I am coming to think that the safest place to be, perhaps other than home in bed, is in the air.

It’s well documented that the drive to and from the airport is more dangerous than the flight. Not to mention the bicycle riding, sailing and other risk-inherent activities I engage in on a regular basis. But flying – and diving, for that matter – are in a different class for me. They both represent a leap into an abyss, separating myself from Earth and air.

 

My first glimmer of my new thinking paradigm came in the summer of 2011. I was flying home from a visit to my parents in Michigan. It was a bumpy ride, which most people would find disconcerting. The reason: deadly tornadoes below us. It was just days after the devastation in Joplin, Missouri.  Just a month before, a tornado had swept through downtown Kansas City.

This day, tornadoes were threatening St. Louis, where I was catching a connecting flight. But the pilot could see the storms, and he assured us that we were landing in a gap between the systems which were raging across the Midwest. I couldn’t get back in the air fast enough!

The recent “Nemo” snowstorm on the East Coast reminded me of my scariest airplane takeoff, and my epiphany – in the Urban Dictionary sense. I was in Reno, Nevada, on a plane going to Oakland, California – a trip which should take inside of an hour. The problem was, it was snowing heavily in Reno and the wings needed constant de-icing. Because of the weather, there was a backup for takeoff, so each time our turn came up, we had iced up and needed to return for more de-icing. My seatmates were two fun women a bit younger than I. We called our husbands and then joked uneasily about needing a drink or getting off the plane. On the second or third try, as we lined up on the runway, I could see from my seat that the wings were again covered, and I wondered if we would take off. This could be it, I felt. I mean, my last flight. But at that moment the pilot walked into the cabin, looked out the window and said, “Nope. Sorry folks, but I’m not comfortable with that. We’re going back for one more try.” Back to de-icing.

By that time it was so late that most planes were gone – we were about three hours behind schedule. My seat mates were still talking about getting off the plane, but we all felt that after all that time, we were committed. So I – expert that I am! – said, “All we need to do is just get into the air, and the wind will evaporate the snow off of the wings. Then, we will be above the clouds. If only we can just take off!” I couldn’t believe that I myself was talking like that. But I realized that it’s what I had learned. And then we finally took off, and sure enough we watched the wings dry, the little bit of ice and snow evaporated, and next we were in the air, headed into the last vestiges of the California sunset above the clouds. Everyone on the plane cheered.

 

 

Since then I’ve realized that, while I still don’t relish takeoff and landing, I do appreciate a good, clear view from above. So often it’s just clouds, which aren’t always interesting. It’s when you can get a good clear view of the landscape below that you realize how amazing this planet Earth is, with evidence of its geologic past, and all the evidence of human activity that it shows – and hides.

 

 

 

I’m amazed at how mankind has managed to divide up flatlands into squares and rectangles, and how inaccessible the mountains appear, until you notice ribbon-like roads in the most unlikely looking places. And these days I fly peacefully over places where where more than the weather is bad – places where some of humankind’s biggest problems fester. I look down on the lights in the Arabian Gulf – oil platforms so numerous that you would think you are flying over inhabited land. It’s a piece of the planet I had never expected to see.

 

I’ve never been a person who likes heights, but maybe that’s changing. Now that I have (finally!) conquered my fear of flying, I can suddenly imagine what it would be like to be in space. I could never before imagine being an astronaut, but now maybe I can. How peaceful it would be, floating in space next to Earth.

 

 

I will probably never venture into outer space although if life continues as it has, I won’t say it’s impossible. Maybe if I get into my 90’s and the price comes down, I’ll go on a Space Cruise. Until then, I’ll consider what my Dubai sailing friend Michal did recently – skydiving. Not that I will be up for it any time soon, but you never know.

Thanks for reading!

 

 

Above It All -- in the Air VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

Why Do Ladies Cover?

Wadha and me, in her home

The following is my own personal take on and understanding of the subject of women “covering” in the Middle East, based on observations, discussions, and reading. I am in no way presenting myself as a expert. I’m just reporting on what I have seen and heard since I began living here some 15 months ago.
The concept of covering is anathema to Westerners. Without meaning any disrespect, I must admit that to us, the Arab women gliding around dressed in black abayas with shaylas covering their hair and sometimes their faces remind us of certain symbols in our own culture – Oz’s Wicked Witch of the West, Dickens’ Ghost of Christmas Past or, perhaps, the Grim Reaper. Add to that the idea we have that it’s a way for men to repress and control women.

During my time in the Middle East, I have met and talked with a number of Muslim women, and the subject always comes up. Why do women cover? The answer always boils down to the same thing: personal choice. Usually. Sometimes, they always admit, the decision is influenced by pressure from one or more males in the family.

Irrepressible young Emiratis

As I understand it, after the death of his first wife,The Prophet Mohammed took many wives from many tribes, and bade them to cover for their own protection against enemies. That’s how the practice got started, and after The Prophet’s death, it spread. Over the centuries its meaning has shifted, as is the case with cultural and religious practices throughout human history. Recently it’s been taken and used by extremists so that now, for Westerners, it represents repression.

I’d like to share conversations with two women who cover and have helped me understand it a little better. The first is a woman I met as a sub at the American school. She’s Emirati, 35 years old, and a widow with five children, ages 20 to about five. She’s a student at the women’s college at Zayed University, studying to become a social worker in the schools, which is what we might think of as a school counselor. Her name is Wadha. I won’t identify her any more than that, because I want to respect her privacy. Maybe after I get to know her better, I’ll write a story about her, inshallah.

Wadha is the embodiment of what I have come to think of as an Emirati lady – and by the way, the Arab men refer to them as “ladies,” not “women.” She is soft spoken and demure, gracious and graceful, and welcomes my friendship. When I met her in the hallway at school, she was wearing her black abaya and shayla, with her face covered with the niqab, as you see in the photograph above, which she removed once she was inside the classroom when there were just women or children present. However, whenever she ventured out of the classroom she put the niqab back on.

Wadha told me that, when she was observing in a classroom with a male teacher and wearing her niqab, the students who didn’t know her made fun. Many expats in Abu Dhabi, such as the parents and children in the American school, often don’t have much, if any, contact with Emiratis. So there is a cultural divide.

Wadha’s brother was sitting with us as she told me the story about the children laughing at her. He spoke up and said, “I told her not to wear it, just take it off, but she wouldn’t do it.” This surprised me, because I had heard that sometimes it’s the husbands or brothers who insist that their sisters cover. But this obviously isn’t the case with Wadha. So that leaves only one other reason for her to cover. It’s her culture, her custom, how she was raised and what she is comfortable with.That’s it. Nobody is forcing her. She would feel as uncomfortable going out uncovered as I would if I were going out in skimpy or overly tight clothing.

Not all women wear a niqab, which is the black face covering with an opening to see through. Some ladies find it more convenient to just drape their sheer shayla over their face when in public, and other ladies don’t cover their faces at all.

The birqa is a symbol of beauty

Wadha told me a story about how she began to wear the niqab. One time, she was out shopping with her family and had thrown her sheer shayla over her face to temporarily cover. She spoke to a strange man about the shopping, thinking he was her husband, and was humiliated when she discovered her mistake. From then on, she has worn the niqab, with its eye opening, which is easier to see through. The other option is the burqa, which is the metal or leather mask worn mostly by older women. Wadha told me that the burqa is a symbol of beauty, and older women like to wear it because it covers bad teeth or aged skin. Before you judge, compare this to Western vanity – our anti-aging beauty treatments include Botox injections and surgery, the effects of which sometimes resemble a mask! Wadha doesn’t like to wear the birqa because it’s not comfortable – to hot and sweaty.



(The burqa is not to be confused with the burka that women in Saudi Arabia and Afghanistan wear, which drapes from the head to the feet with only a small space directly in front of the eyes to see through.)

Cindy and me at the Emirates Palace Theater

My friend Cindy is American, and has been married to an Emirati for 30 years. Cindy is a Muslim, having converted about a year after she and Mohammed married. Cindy wears the abaya in public, and she covers her hair with a shayla but she never covers her face. Not all ladies cover their hair completely these days but Cindy does, even though she is sometimes asked why. She’s been told by other Arab ladies that it’s “the old way.”

To Cindy, wearing the shayla or hijab to cover her hair is a symbol of her Islamic faith and her solidarity with her husband. “I don’t do anything halfway,” she told me. “I don’t understand these girls who only cover their hair partway. You either do it the way or not at all. Why don’t they just take it off, then?” And she also said, “I kind of like it that Mohammed is the only (man) who gets to see my hair. And, you know,” she said happily, “I think it’s as soft as it is because it’s been protected for all these years.”

So there you have it. I have seen their world through their eyes, and I understand. Not that I have any inclination to cover myself. I am thoroughly Western. In fact, Wadha’s story of the encounter at the store reminded me that the exact thing happened to me just a couple of weeks ago, just because I was not paying attention. “Oops,” I apologized to the man. “Sorry, I thought you were my husband!” A little internal cringe, and it was over.

Oman’s Coast–Yiti, As Sifa, and Bandar Khiran

The Samman beach restaurant, sunset

It was hard to pull ourselves away from the Hajar Mountains, but coming to the beach eased the pain. We were returning to the scene where we spent our 12th wedding anniversary last year, the Sifawy Hotel at As Sifa, on a section of Oman’s coast just south of Muscat.

Last year when we stayed there the Sifawy had just opened, there were very few guests, and we were upgraded to a deluxe suite with a balcony. On the downside, when we got there they didn’t have their alcohol license yet – at least not until the next day, which was Christmas Eve and our anniversary. Suddenly they had acquired the license and we could order a bottle of wine with dinner.
 

Sunrise, view from our room

I can now report that the place has been discovered, and there were plenty of guests relaxing poolside during the day. We didn’t get the upgrade, but we had a nice room on the pool deck with a little outdoor patio which was the only place where the Internet worked. This time they brought a complimentary bottle of wine to us right after we checked in. The breakfast buffet was great, with a traditional Arab spread of dips, olives, tomatoes, and other veggies, European style sliced meats, smoked salmon, and a selection of cheeses, an egg station where they cook you an omelet or eggs any way, Arab or American pancakes, chicken and veal sausages, beef and turkey bacon, curried potatoes, foul - pronounced “fool” which is beans, a popular Arab breakfast food – the list goes on. The only thing they didn’t have was anything made with pork.

I must do a food blog. Inshallah!

We still like the hotel very much, and recommend it. As a boutique hotel, it’s reasonably priced, compared to some of the luxury hotels. And we are getting spoiled by the service in these Arab countries.

Sifa Marina

The new marina has a few boats now, including two sailboats, one from Australia. We didn’t spend much time hanging around the hotel, though. We had brought our inflatable kayak, and we had our 4WD, so we went exploring.

We decided to drive south from As Sifa, to see how far we could get, and maybe find an interesting beach to launch from. What we found was that there is lots of construction going on – more luxury hotels – and a small village at the end of the road, with schoolboys wondering what we were doing turning around in their schoolyard. No beach access.

Bandar al Khiran

Next we drove north. On the way from Muscat to As Sifa, the road passes a network of tidal bays called Bandar al Khiran, which reminds us of some places on the West Coast, with the tidal flats against soaring cliffs. With mangroves and who knows what else to see, we thought this would be a fun place to launch our inflatable kayak and explore.

The government is taking control
of tourism activities

Unfortunately for us, the area is now being managed by the Ministry of Tourism and is off limits to tourism activities without a permit. We weren’t sure if this included our kayak, but we didn’t want to take a chance. A couple of months ago, we took the kayak into some mangroves on the UAE’s eastern region at Khor Kalba. We were apprehended, told “Problem!” and threatened with a fine of 10,000AED, or about $3,000.

Ash Shaykh beach

We looked into the little bay at the fishing village of Ash Shaykh, which was nice but by that time it was after noon, the sea breeze had kicked up, and we decided it was too windy and rough to be any fun. Mark chatted with a local fisherman, who came down to the beach to see if we wanted to take a boat ride.

Happy Anniversary

For our 13th anniversary dinner on Christmas Eve, we went to the open-air fish restaurant, which was closed when we were there last year. This year, they were open every day for both lunch and dinner, with coffee available at 10:30 a.m. We had a delicious hammour dinner. Hammour is a very popular locally caught grouper, and unfortunately it’s being overfished. Every hotel, restaurant, fish market and supermarket has it. I order it once in a while, as a special treat.

Al Bustan auditorium

That night we drove into Muscat to see a concert of traditional Omani oud music at the Ritz Carlton Al Bustan hotel. The audience was mostly Arab, although we did spot a few other expats.







There were a few very ornately dressed women in the orchestra. At one point, the entire orchestra left the stage and the women returned to perform alone without any men. The audience erupted in ululations – a high-pitched sound that we also heard at the Emirati wedding we went to, when the bride arrived.




A group of boys also performed, to the delight of the mostly Arab crowd. We found the music to be a bit redundant after awhile, but we enjoyed the concert.

Our inflatable on As Sifa beach

On Christmas Day we decided to launch the kayak on As Sifa beach, where we explored the coastline. The tide was high, so there weren’t many fish, but we saw lots of rock crabs and sand crabs, which scurried away as we approached. What a beautiful place and, again, it reminded me of the northern California coast.


Another interesting place on this stretch of coastline is Yiti. This would be another great place to camp and again, it reminded me so much of places I have been in California. Yiti is also now a construction site. Another resort. So, who knows how long it will be accessible. But I can’t complain, because I am taking advantage of the beautiful resorts that are now on Oman’s coast. You can’t have it both ways.

Yiti, As Sifa, Oman Coast VIEW SLIDE SHOW DOWNLOAD ALL

Or can you? Oman does seem to be striking a good balance. A huge part of the charm, for me, of the entire coastline is that the small fishing villages are relatively untouched, and the people there continue to fish and raise goats, even a few turkeys, at least for now. Some of their accommodations have changed; many people live in much bigger houses, with high walls for privacy. But they still come out in the evening, squat in small circles – all men or all women, never mixed – and talk or make trinkets around a little fire. It remains to be seen how long it can stay this way.
Thanks for reading!

Jebel Al-Akhdar and the Sayq Plateau, Oman

Diana's Viewpoint

There are powerful landscapes, and then there are landscapes that leave you breathless  – you can’t even think, and you don’t need to. Your mind goes blank, and you just gaze. Such is the power of Jebel Akhdar and the Sayq Plateau.

Bait al Ridaydah at Bikat al Mouz

We diverted to Jebel Akhdar for a few hours on our way from Nizwa, the ancient city and former capital of Oman, to Muscat, Oman’s current capital on the coast. Taking the Birkat Al Mouz exit from the new four-lane divided highway or “carriageway,” as they sometimes call it here, we wound through the town, driving past one of Oman’s 16 magnificent castles and forts that are operated by Oman’s Ministry of Tourism.




We didn’t stop to tour the fort, because we wanted to get as high up on Jebel Akhdar as we could in the time we had. We could do a whole tour of the country, just seeing Oman’s castles and forts – but that’s another story.

Steep turns, steep grade

Near the base of the mountain, we stopped at a checkpoint, beyond which only 4WD vehicles with low gears are allowed. Even though the road is paved, it’s unbelievably steep and sharply curved; far more so than a comparable mountain road in the USA. Starting at about 1500 feet altitude, the road climbs 7,000 feet to 8500 in about 13 miles.

I compare it to Kingsbury Grade, the steep and winding road we take from our home in Carson Valley over Daggett Pass to Lake Tahoe. It’s 8 miles from the intersection at Foothill Road, 4800 feet altitude, to Daggett Pass, 7350 feet. That’s a rise of 2250 feet, or 318 feet/mile or 6% grade, the maximum allowed in the U.S. Compare that with 538 feet/mile up Jebel Akhdar, a 10% grade – almost twice as steep, and 50% longer.
“Stay in low gear on the way down,” we were told. “Don’t use brakes. Use low gear.” Brakes will heat up, then fail.

Terraced mountainside

Up we went, slowly winding up Jebel Akhdar and onto the Sayq Plateau. I had read about this area with its many villages, but what I was most interested in seeing were the terraced slopes where the rose bushes are grown. Distilled rose water is a special product of the mountain communities; it’s used in coffee and sweets, and as an air freshener. I have an Arabian cookbook, and the exotic watermelon, feta cheese and mint salad recipe, which I have yet to try, calls for a drizzle of rose water.



The name Jebel Akhdar means “Green Mountain.” In addition to the fragrant roses, the mountain terraces support a variety of fruit and nut trees – apricot , pear, plum, peach, fig, olive, almond, walnut, pomegranate, and citrus, among others. The mountain climate is temperate with warm, balmy summers and cooler winters when temperatures sometimes drop to freezing, especially during rains. Tourism peaks in March when the trees flower. I’d like to visit in spring but also in the summer, when the Gulf Coast heat is so oppressive.
Incidentally, the Hajar Mountains are a popular destination for mountain climbing and trekking groups. A few months ago I signed up on UAE Trekkers, an Abu Dhabi hiking group, thinking it might be fun to meet some other hikers. I soon discovered that a primary focus right now is training for an upcoming Kilimanjaro climb, although all are welcome on the many hikes they do. UAE Trekkers organizes camping and trekking trips all over the Arabian Peninsula, and I enjoy seeing where they are going next.

Here is what they say about hiking:
A hike is NOT just a walk outside in the mountains.  The nature of these mountains here in UAE and Oman is profoundly different to those in other parts of the world.   There are NO marked trails - anywhere. There are no maps. The hiking route can even change over weeks due to flooding and rains. Navigation and exploring are mandatory and - in our opinion - a big part of the fun! 

I haven’t hooked up with the group yet. For one thing, everything they do is on weekends or evenings, and my weekends are for sailing and doing things with Mark. Plus I could be wrong, but I suspect that the group is generally younger, and singles. And many lot of their hikes involve some climbing, which I am not into.

Wait. I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right: I don’t really operate that way. If I were here on my own and not so busy I would be there in a heartbeat, no matter what my age, as long as I could hike. What a great way to meet interesting people!

Ok, I just made a resolution: when I get back from the USA in February, I will find a way to do one of their basic hikes. I see comments from people all the time saying, "I'm not experienced, but want to try it ..." And I AM experienced. Plus last time I went home I brought back good hiking shoes.

Now back to Jebel Akhdar …

Wadi Bani Habib

Up at the top, just after the Jebel Akhdar Hotel, we turned left onto a smaller road which took us past a military installation to Wadi Bani Habib, where we took a short walk to one of two abandoned villages. This is one end of another Village Walk like the one at Jebel Shams, that I would like to do when we come back. You can read and see photos of the lovely village in the Wildcardtravels post Dispatch from Oman: Wadi Bani Habib.

Arabs spare no expense
when it comes to parks

We ate a lunch of cheese, crackers, apples and a sip of white grape beverage at a park with a nice view of the rocky Sayq Plateau spread before us.

Sahab Hotel

Since we had time for one more thing, we decided to go to Diana’s Viewpoint, unofficially named in remembrance of a helicopter visit by Princess Diana in 1990. On the way, we noticed a brand new luxury hotel, perched right on the edge of the mountain. High-end eco-hotels are becoming more common in the Middle East. Maybe when we come back we can splurge on a night at the Sahab Hotel.






Still, I would love to camp; there are plenty of great camping spots near Diana’s Viewpoint. If only more people would embrace the eco-idea of just cleaning up after themselves.

Diana's Viewpoint

At Diana’s Viewpoint, we pulled into a parking area where we were rewarded with a stupendous view of the vast array of terraces, roads, and villages below and on the adjoining slopes, not to mention the procession of peaks and valleys stretching off into the distance.

We'll see this in bloom in March

I knew that the roses would be dormant. We need to come in the spring to see them in bloom. I was actually glad for the opportunity to be able to view and photograph the structure of terraces themselves, which I imagine are pretty well hidden when the vegetation is in bloom or leafed out.

One of many escape ramps

The ride back down the mountain was remarkable. With the car in low gear, we wound our way past signs in relatively flat looking areas that warned, “STAY IN LOW GEAR.” When we stopped at a pullout to rest the Cayenne, we could smell burning brakes. Not ours, though – there were three or four other cars there, and it was them.








We marveled at the effort and expense it took to construct the road. Not only are there extensive concrete guard walls and rails, but a huge portion of the roadside has been covered with some kind of concrete mixture. Much of the rock is conglomerate -- sedimentary rock that is easily weathered and eroded, and big boulders.The entire road is prone to slides.



“This road must be The World’ Most Something,” Mark said. We speculated: it could be The World’s Steepest Paved Road, or possibly World’s Most Expensive Road for the Amount of Traffic.



Or maybe World’s Biggest and Most Numerous Escape Lanes. The further down we got, the more frequent the escape ramps were. But I could see why, because not only does the road bring tourist vehicles and locals in their Toyota pickups to the mountain, but we saw water trucks and other heavy vehicles toiling up and down the road. I kept thinking of those smelly brakes.





Finally, we saw a ramp near the checkpoint that had been used, although obviously by a smaller vehicle, not one of the big heavy trucks. And what a dropoff beyond it! Somebody must’ve had to throw away their knickers afterward.









Probably one of these guys.









Back on the road to Muscat, we enjoyed looking at the bent and folded layers of Earth’s crust, exposed for us to see. I am so thankful that we have the mountains to come and visit in Oman, just a few hours from Abu Dhabi. It’s time to get serious about doing some hiking, while the weather is still cool!

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