Flying in over the white-domed roofs of Muscat at night, I was already experiencing a gentle surge of pleasure at returning to one of the most attractive capitals in the world. The drive from the airport cruises into town along flower-lined freeways, almost empty at this time. It is a revelation of what recent wealth can do for a country, with its ministerial buildings, for instance, exemplifying Modern Mughul style—a blend of creative contemporary architecture and satisfactory Moorish aesthetics—think Alhambra. Exquisitely tiled mosques glitter between more austere yet gilded banks; luscious roadsides and parks are evidence of the conscious greening of the Arabian desert.
This was my ninth visit to Oman. Why? It’s laid-back to the point of languor, so different from that ode to commerce, Dubai—not a steel and glass high-rise in sight, not a whiff of the sex‘n’shopping culture that has come to define tourism there. Oman retains a sense of pre-oil ancient Arabia, especially beyond the capital, and in Muscat too, history is still tangible. Despite rapid redevelopment, life never seems to be rushed in this haven of unspoilt, small-town charm. Its people have self-respect and evident pride in their distinctive heritage, as well as the modernization introduced over the last 40 years by their benevolent sultan. In the past, Oman was isolated from its neighbors by deserts, mountains or sea, and this has had a subtle effect on its inhabitants, who tend to be reserved and contemplative, yet with a relaxed bonhomie.
With its vestiges of past civilizations and intriguing old cities, castles and forts to prove it, sunset cruises in wooden dhows (sailboats), and sleepy atmospheric fishing villages hardly touched by time, it’s the perfect environment for high-class tourism to flourish. Oman is calm, chic and safe; Conde Nast Traveler magazine chose it for its list of 10 must-visit places. Clearly a “now” destination, it’s not for slim wallets or indeed, lager louts. However, Oman is easy-going (alcohol accessible in hotels and some restaurants), and it is possible on a budget to explore the epic scenery, which includes a 2,000 km-long coastline of pristine, secluded beaches, spectacular mountain ranges and hidden wadis (river valleys), with their crystal-clear streams and pools.
If your ambition is simply to chill out, then Muscat’s beach hotels are for you—your most energetic pursuit would be to watch the waves of the Gulf of Oman lapping onto soft sand. Some of these hotels are seriously stylish, with their own private bays. An air-conditioned limo had brought me to the Barr Al-Jissah Resort & Spa. Against a darkly impressive mountain backdrop, the complex has its own bay, perfect beach and acres of landscaped gardens. Its architects and interior designers have been inspired by traditional themes based on Oman’s cultural heritage. I also stayed at The Chedi in unabashed luxury and tranquility—the style is Zen minimalist with a color palette edited to white, grey and black, and then the azure ocean beyond.
The first morning I descended on Muscat, where until 1970 the gates of the old walled town were locked at night and its inhabitants had to carry lanterns. Now the capital has spread along great swathes of the coastline and hinterland in one tranquil valley after another, linked by highways dramatically swooping between the mountains. Old Muscat is still intensely atmospheric, dominated by two 16 century Portuguese forts high above the harbor. They flank Sultan Qaboos’ fairy-tale Al-Alam Palace, its Pharaonic-style blue and gold columns soaring upwards.
In the narrow alleys of the ancient souk, the evocative fragrance of incense mingles with spices, sandalwood and wonderful woody Arab essential oils like Oudh, some of it so valuable it is kept in safes. Donkeys loaded with bundles of Indian pashminas (shawls) edge between women, some of whom are dressed in bright East African kangas, a legacy of the time Oman colonized Zanzibar, and which make great beach sarongs. Shopping opportunities are legion—look out for old silver khanjars, the traditional curved daggers worn on ceremonial occasions to this day. Antique amber and silver jewelry and old chests from Zanzibar are also very collectable. A friend on our shopping foray successfully bargained for some fine old lithographs of the 18 century mansions which front the souk, their elegant latticed windows, Indian inspired. Ocean-going dhows sailed there to deliver incense and horses, importing spices and teak. From the crescent-shaped sweep of Muttrah’s Corniche, one can see working dhows anchored in the harbor between modern shipping and edgy little motorboats bringing in the catch to Muttrah’s Fish Souk, a great place to take photos first thing in the morning. In Omani restaurants, try the sea bream, kingfish, hamor, tuna and the most intensely flavored lobster in the world.
Leaving Muscat I travelled between the mountains and the sea to the ancient town of Sur, once the main ports for trade with Oman’s East African empire, with a racy past running slaves and trafficking in arms, along with importing ivory, cloves and ostrich feathers. Now the creek is lined with listing, half-built dhows, their pitch melting under the blazing sun.
The next evening, from the top of an enormous sand dune, I watched the colors of the desert deepen as the sun set, and tuned into total silence. I had arrived at the edge of the Sharqiyah desert, known as Wahiba Sands, where the dunes ripple along over 200 km, some of them 100 meters high. After a boys’ toys session of dune bashing in which my gung-ho guide revved his 4x4 almost vertically up and down the giant waves of sand, we cruised down to the valley below. On this occasion I stayed at the luxurious Desert Nights Camp, my mini air-conditioned suite quite a contrast to the barasti (palm-frond) hut of another camp on a previous visit to Wahiba. On that occasion, traditional lamb kebabs were followed by live Arab music to which we danced under the stars. This time, walking back at night across the sand from the restaurant, the silence was infinitely profound, the constellations above impossibly bright.
So much more to experience in Oman—Musandam in the north, Dhofar in the south, but sadly I was leaving, determined however, to pay my respects to the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque. The world’s largest mosque, accommodating 20,000 people, was inaugurated in 2001 by His Majesty praying on the world’s biggest Persian carpet of 28 colors, lit by 35 chandeliers of Swarovski crystal and gold-plating. Quite simply, it is stunningly beautiful, and one of the few mosques open to non-Muslims, as long as women visitors cover their hair. As Sultan Qaboos said, “Tourism, yes, but not any kind. What we want is quality, not quantity. We have a culture to take care of.”
Juliet Highet – A writer, photographer and curator, Juliet Highet specializes in Middle Eastern heritage and contemporary culture. Ms. Highet is currently working on her second book, “Design Oman,” having published her first book, “FRANKINCENSE: Oman’s Gift to the World,” in 2006.
