Sunday, February 22nd, 2004: Mark got me up around 8:30AM for my first full day in unfamiliar environs and we consumed breakfast on their back porch to enjoy his garden. It’s lovely to see the landscaper instinct is intact (we met during college years working summers for a local landscape company). Abandoning the garden has him a bit remiss about the forthcoming move to a bigger (3-bedroom) apartment to accommodate Maya (they have already picked out a name knowing a daughter will be arriving) and Mummy (Samia’s mother, whom I also met at their wedding and is not only wonderful, but a former member of the Pakistani Parliament!) who will soon arrive to help with the baby.
Today was Sunday, so Mark headed off for his office. During this first trip, weekends were Thursday and Friday in the UAE (Friday is the holy day for Muslims, and sadly they have since shifted weekends to Friday and Saturday to close the disparity with the West). But Mark had booked the rest of the week for vacation so shortly after tending to some emergency concerns we were off to an unexpected destination.
Mark wanted to introduce me to the Musandam peninsula, a part of Oman which is severed from the rest of that country by the UAE. Hailed as the “Norway of the Middle East”, Musandam features magnificent fjords on the Persian Gulf. Mark and Samia had ventured down for the first time just a few weeks before and thought it was a splendid destination.
To get there we had to navigate across three emirates. First was Ajman, immediately beyond Sharjah as we proceeded north up the coast. Struck me as rather junky and Mark reinforced that due to the vast expanse of desert immediately outside your door, the locals consider it an enormous garbage can. After this we encountered Umm-Al-Qwain, the tiniest emirate and soon entered Ras-Al-Kaymah…an interesting emirate that borders Oman. I was tickled to learn that this was home to RAK Tiles, which I’ve actually heard of…and now I know where the RAK derives!
In Ras-Al-Kaymah we stopped in the capitol city and lunched at a mall. It was an air-conditioned, very modern affair and exceptionally clean. Many ‘ghosts’ here (this is Mark’s term for Arabic woman completely veiled, with a scarf fully covering their face – he calls those with slits revealing their eyes ‘Ninjas’), though I had seen several as we passed through both Ajman & Sharjah – Mark tells me they are somewhat common outside of Dubai. Need to comment that I’ve seen plenty of unaccompanied women, which casts doubt upon the dread of being female in this Muslim culture (in this very mall there were two Anglo’s in shorts…I assume Brits, but reassuring to sense their comfort level).
On the way towards Oman the towering Harrar mountains came into view. Absolutely nothing but pure rock, these monsters shoot straight up from the desert floor. We passed through, what Mark tells me, is the world’s largest concrete manufacturing facility (ideally located given the massive Dubai projects). And I believe him. As we drove past the complex a myriad conveyors crisscrossed the roadway (about 20’ high) hauling materials back & forth. Funny sidebar here is that they actually have to import sand to make the concrete – the tons present on Emirati deserts are too smooth and concrete requires a coarser grain!
Wee bit of commentary on sights thus far. Plenty of camels spotted roaming about (and I really hadn’t anticipated seeing so many) in addition to even more numerous goats. Saw the Persian Gulf, a beautiful sparkling blue accented by green streaks. And finally, ‘old timey’ bill boards, including the likes of Bim, the Michelin Tire Man…feels like I have been transported back to the 1950’s and I’m half expecting to see a Burma Shave sign soon.
Obligatory camel shot in Ajman...
At the Omani border Mark was concerned I might have difficulty getting across, but no worries. They apparently relaxed the rules dramatically last summer and we just had to complete paperwork and pay fees at two checkpoints. First was to exit the UAE (40 Dhirams each, about $11 US) and next, entering Oman (3 Riyals for me, 1 for Mark…one Riyal = $3 US).
We were on one of the only two paved roads in the Musandam peninsula of Oman – this one wrapping tightly to the shore at the foot of the mountains. The road went up and down steep inclines with violent switchbacks…glad Mark was driving! We passed several small enclaves along the 25 miles and eventually arrived at our hotel, the Golden Tulip Resort (we could actually see it with 6km left to drive…a bend in the road afforded an expansive view and it was obvious that we would be twisting down one side of a long inlet, then back out to reach the Tulip).
The Golden Tulip was a recently built affair in 2004, tacky but modern. A friendly staff greeted us warmly and assuaged any concerns over language barriers – when Mark asked our bellhop if it would be possible to book a dhow the next day, he frowned & shook his head, but smiled and acknowledged once we substituted “boat” for “dhow”. Further discussion revealed he had just transplanted here from Muscat in Oman – don’t they have dhows there?
Next we drove into town and at the Khasab Fort Mark noticed a woman who works with Samia occasionally (this woman is responsible for all fort restoration in Oman and is an Anglo). He couldn’t recall her name, so we pushed on and snaked through the roads of Khasab. This was very endearing with kids running around everywhere (it was 4PM and school was out), all smiling and waving at us. We ran into a dead end at one point, so Mark had to slowly pull a u-turn in a very tight alley. Two Omani men wearing dishdasha’s came along as we were in the middle of the slow turn and their appearance to me was somewhat menacing. However, since they had to squeeze between the car and the wall to get past, they amiably introduced themselves (both actually insisted upon reaching through Mark’s window and across the front seat to shake my hand too), smiled and kept walking.
Which way is Mecca? Our room had stickers ponting the proper direction to pray.
Exiting Khasab, we decided to scramble up a rocky slope just outside of town. A short ascent later we enjoyed a pleasant view of both Khasab and the Persian Gulf. We startled several goats during our climb, but I’m happy to report there were no casualties…though it was somewhat frightening how quickly they scampered along the treacherous paths!
Back at the Golden Tulip, we peaced out and reveled in the incredible view from our hotel porch --- the Persian Gulf, framed on both sides by mountain ranges. Then we took a dip in the pool, but it was freezing cold (unfortunately it was in the shade of the hotel…probably a bonus during the torrid summertime, as Mark shared with me that pools in the summer here are more akin to saunas). We quickly exited and retreated to our room, where we showered and went downstairs for dinner. And a lovely dinner it was: a buffet including falafel, salmon, baba ghannoujh, shrimp, squid and hamour (A Gulf whitefish)….delicious!
Mark & I subsequently retired to the “Private Bar,” which it truly was…the door to it was closed and we both thought it wasn’t open. But when we cracked the door there was a splendid tavern appointed in classic British pub décor. In the US it would have received zero traffic, as I doubt my people would venture past a closed door labeled “private”…but glad we did!
We ended the evening in Oman with three rounds of bulls & cows on the dartboard…all three won by Mark. We were the exclusive owners of the establishment the entire evening and attempted to explain this pastime to our host. Rather intriguing since the scoreboard was obviously intended for the game we were playing, although it was a complete mystery to the barkeep. Pretty sure our host got the gist before we retired…but also positive it will fade away since he has no one to share the pursuit with and reinforce the rules after our departure...
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