Oman? Oh, Man! Part III: 7,580 miles…

Friday February 19^th, 2010.   I was astonished when I saw the distance of my flight from Atlanta to Dubai.  7,580 miles.  Since I already knew the flight time was fourteen hours it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but such an absurd distance.

The marathon flight provided zero comfort and the sterile environment of the Atlanta airport wasn’t helping either.  I love JFK because the terminal passengers put on a wonderful parade of world humanity, but my Dubai gate in Atlanta was stuffed with stuffed shirts that made it feel like I was leaving on a business trip.  Fortunately I was buoyed by the anticipation of exploring Oman and held no doubts that fascinating discoveries were near at hand.

As disgusting as a fourteen hour flight may sound, at least you get it over with at one shot and it’s amazing how excited I felt when realizing there was only five hours left!  There was a good omen for Oman as we landed: the person in the row ahead of me was watching “Witness” on their monitor.  This movie was filmed in Lancaster, PA, where I grew up, and Harrison Ford actually consulted with Mark’s father, a local surgeon, on how one would be handicapped by the bullet wound his character suffers in the flick.  An appropriate ending as the adventure begins by meeting Mark at the Dubai Airport.

Clearing customs was pretty basic, although I was disappointed when I got my entrance visa.  Several guide books had recommended getting a joint entry visa for the UAE and Oman when you land at Dubai Airport.  It was supposed to be available if you planned to drive into Oman from the UAE, so I asked.  The agent, who spoke little English, was only prompted to inquire what hotel I would be staying at when I posed the question.  Scrutinizing my passport afterwards confirmed no Omani visa had been added – John had a very similar experience when he landed and made the same attempt an hour later.

Unlike Jordan, connecting with Mark on his home turf was effortless, but we had to hurry.  Samia was waiting in their 4WD at the taxi stand and was being harassed by a local cop to move along.  We jumped in and took off, the officer following us until we exited the airport – we suspect he wanted to be sure we didn’t just circle back.

Back at their apartment, we stayed up several hours gabbing and catching up.  I also gave Samia the books she had ordered to my home address (much cheaper for me to pack them along than to pay the exorbitant rates for shipping to Dubai) and discovered the next morning she stayed up until 3AM reading them.  One of the books was a cultural history of Bahrain and Samia was enthralled over the evidence it presented supporting her hypothesis that the Manama Souk (Manama is the capital of Bahrain) runs perpendicular to the creek it lies on due to fear of invasion: the Dubai souks confidently stretch out right along the creek.  If only my mind could make such amazing connections!