DAY NINETY EIGHT - Rub al Khali, the Empty Quarter

There is more than a bit of irony, I think, in that I find myself living for a year in a desert country, in one of the most arid and hottest regions in the world.

You see, for the past two years at least I've had an itch to visit a desert. I've lived in the green, wooded area of the Northeast most of my life, but I've hiked in the Rocky Mountains and visited the Pacific Northwest. I've ridden an airboat in the Florida Everglades, snorkled off Maui and walked in the ash of Haleakalas's crater. And on one very memorable trip with my friend Linda, we hiked through jungles in Panama along the canal and then flew up to the mountains and trudged through a bone-chilling rain in the cloud forest of Baru, a dormant volcano. But I had never experienced a desert, and I really wanted to. What I had in mind was a desert in California. I figured one year when I flew out to visit Jeff in San Diego, we could make a day trip of it and drive to the Palm Springs area or Joshua Tree National Park. But as they say, be careful what you wish for. I would add, be very specific about what you wish for.

A trip to the desert seemed a natural for one of Jeff's U.A.E. Christmas Adventures. I had been planning on going out there with Doug anyway, so it made sense to wait until Jeff was with us so we could go together. I set about picking up tourist brochures wherever I found them and Googling "desert safaris". What I discovered, and no surprise really, was that there were no end of desert safaris to be found. Every tour company offered them, but the vast majority were half-day trips just out of town, starting in the early evening. They followed this general itinerary:

Pick-up and drop-off by 4x4 car

Visit camel farm

Camel riding

Dune bashing as the sun sets over the desert

Drive to a desert "camp" for a BBQ dinner (or some kind of snack involving dates and Arabic coffee)

Shisha smoking (this is the hubbly-bubbly or water pipe)

Henna tattoo

Belly dancer

I read these descriptions, and they just felt contrived and touristy to me. I'm sure they are fun, and clearly they are popular, but what I had in mind was to really and truly experience the desert. So I did more research and found a few companies that offered a full-day safari to the Liwa Oasis which sits on the edge of the Rub' al Khali, the Empty Quarter. 

The Empty Quarter. Just the name intrigued me, and the more I read, the more I knew this is where we had to go.

The Rub al Khali is the largest expanse of desert in the world, encompassing most of the southern third of the Arabian Peninsula. Most of it lies in Saudi Arabia, but it also extends into the UAE, Oman and Yeman. The sand is a characteristic orangey-red due to the presence of feldspar, and the dunes reach enormous heights, more like large hills than what we normally think of as sand dunes. 

The Moreeb Dune in the Empty Quarter is thought to be the tallest dune in the world at around 300 meters. The translation is "scary dune". 

Early on New Years Eve Day we were picked up at our apartment by our driver, a very out-going and talkative young Indian named Aziz. As our Land Rover headed out of the city he told us that we were first going to rendezvous with two other vehicles at a gas station. He said that for safety reasons, they always went out in groups of at least three vehicles. 

The day was bright and sunny, but it was quite breezy and just a bit cool. We brought jackets with us, sunglasses, sunscreen and bottles of water. As we left Abu Dhabi the landscape was pretty flat, and the sand was mostly beige in color. We passed some areas that looked like they were being cultivated with date palms. 

As we got further out the wind picked up and sand blew across the road, looking for all the world like snow skittering across a frozen roadway in Upstate New York. The air was hazy with dust. Off to one side ran a parallel truck road, and as you can see, it was filled with a continuous line of very large, heavy trucks. They just kept coming and going - I've never seen anything like it. It was very clear that there is some huge construction project or projects being undertaken out in the deserts of the U.A.E. 

And then in the midst of all the construction traffic we saw this, a camel train, just plodding along the road. Surreal. It was twice as long as this photo, so there were quite a few camels.

About an hour outside of Abu Dhabi we came to a traffic light, which completely took me by surprise as we were seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Then I could see what looked like a pyramid behind some scrubby trees and and entrance. Our small parade of Land Rovers turned in, and we found ourselves at the Emirates National Auto Museum. The pyramid is actually a warehouse which stores the private car collection of Sheikh Hamad bin Hamdan Al Nahyan. Apparently visiting this museum was part of the day's tour.

In the front of the museum were parked these two giant...... RV's??? I am not sure what they are really. I think they were gifted to the Sheikh. What do you give the sheikh who has everything? A globe on wheels, I guess.

Here's another view of the "globe". You could walk up and have your photo taken at the top of the stairs, but you could not enter. Don't you wonder what it looks like inside??? 

The cars were displayed very nicely. The "road" wove back and forth throughout the entire warehouse, and most cars were labled which was very helpful. Many cars were originals like the VW Bug, but most were customized in some way.

One of the many, MANY, rainbow Mercedes, and note the gold trim. Some had all the colors of the rainbow like this one, but the Sheik also had solid-color Mercedes, each in a color of the rainbow, one for each day of the week. 

World's biggest Dodge truck, sans engine. You could walk under it and not wack your head. 

I don't think this is an original. I believe it is a replica of the very first Mercedes, but cool nevertheless.

And just for good measure, there was a jet and a giant Jeep parked out back because.... why not?

How's this for scale?

As we wandered through the museum I wondered about all the rainbow-colored cars, of which there were many. They would be ideal, and I do mean ideal, for our Gay Pride Parades - there were enough to make up their own parade -  but considering that homosexuality is illegal in this country, I doubt the rainbow colors and imagry have quite the same connotation as they do in our country. Later when I read up on the museum I discovered that the Sheikh is known as the Rainbow Sheikh. I guess he just likes rainbows a lot, which is cool. 

We drove for another hour. The color of the sand changed from beige to a distinct orange-red, and the dunes grew taller. Finally the lead Rover slowed down, pulled off the road into the open desert and took off. We were last in line and followed. We drove for a few minutes, leaving the highway well behind us, and then at the base of a large dune we all slowed to a complete stop.

All three drivers exited their Land Rovers and proceeded to let air out of all the tires. Apparently this is what one does when driving in the desert because it gives the 4x4's more traction. They also lifted the hoods so the engines could cool down. We passengers took the opportunity to stretch our legs.

I could tell from Jeff's expression that he thought this was pretty awesome.

And then we climbed into our Land Rover and we were off!

Dunes as far as the eye can see.

The contrast between the clear blue sky and the rust-colored sand was striking.

On the flat the Rovers moved along pretty quickly, carving their way across and up dunes.

When we came to a very steep dune, like this one, the strategy was a little different. Note that the dune is at about a 45 degree angle to our Land Rover's window sill (bottom of frame). We would stop at the bottom, and wait while the vehicle in front of us gunned it and fish-tailed its way up the dune. Clearly timing was important because the driver needed just enough momentum to get to the very top of the dune, and then he would stop, perched on the crest. It was a little nerve-wracking for me because you could not see over the crest and didn't know how tall and steep the dune was on the other side. 

Now when I say "perched" on the crest of the dune, I mean perched. It's hard to tell from this picture, but the Land Rover in front of us is literally teetering on the dune, it's rear wheels in the air. Imagine how I felt looking up at this vehicle, watching it sit there precariously, and then slowly disappear over the other side. After a few minutes our driver gunned the motor and up the dune we went. When we reached the top and paused, it was just like being on a roller coaster and finding yourself at the top of first big dip, waiting to plunge over. The difference between dune bashing and roller coasters, though, is that when we went down the dune, the driver pretty much inched his way down very slowly and carefully. Aziz told us that the sand in the desert out near Liwa is very fine, unlike the courser sand closer to Abu Dhabi, and this makes for more treacherous driving. As we were going down these dunes I looked above me and for the first time noticed the roll bars, and I was very glad to see them.

We would stop at regular intervals so the drivers could lift the hoods of the Rovers and let the engines cool. They picked spots with a "view". Here Aziz pointed down excitedly, telling us there was an oasis. I approached the edge cautiously because it looked like it just dropped off, and I imagined myself losing my balance and rolling down the dune. Scary thought. 

When I peeked over the edge, this is what I saw. I guess when I heard "oasis" I was expecting something bigger.

I edged over a bit more so I could see a little better. The wind was blowing briskly as we stood looking down, grains of sand blowing across the tops of the dunes and into the air. I wondered how is it that these little oases survive? How is it that the desert doesn't overtake them and bury them in sand?

In places the sand drifts away exposing dark gravel below, and from a distance it can look like a lake.

Doug and Jeff in the expanse of the desert. Humbling.

It was well past noon and my stomach was rumbling with hunger. We crested yet another dune, and down below us was an oasis, this one considerably larger than the one we'd seen earlier. 

This oasis was our rest stop. Not to be confused with a pit stop, because there were no "facilities", and believe me I looked. No, we were stopping for a little snack and to have the opportunity to walk around an oasis. 

Apparently an oasis is a prime piece of real estate, and this one, like all the oases in the country, was owned by a member of the Royal Family. It was surrounded by fence, and I'm not sure why..... just to define the border? Or maybe wild camels wander in and munch the date palms? Anyway, there was a full-time staff at this oasis, tending to the date palms and doing whatever else one does at an oasis. When we arrived one of the men got busy rolling out some dough. Then he picked it up, pizza style, and stretched the dough even more. Our hungry crowd gathered round. 

There was some kind of heat source inside this nasty black, rusty-looking barrel because our cook draped the thin "crepe" over it with his rolling pin. He let it sit for a few minutes and then he flipped it over with the rolling pin. He repeated this several times until he deemed it done.

He told us it was roti, and he plunked it on a rough wooden table (if you could call it that) along with a plate of small dates which he said were harvested from the date palms at the oasis. We all helped ourselves to the flat bread by ripping off pieces. Flies had to be shooed away to get to the dates. 

Jeff is not an adventurous eater, so it is a testament to how hungry he was that he even ventured a taste. See how tentatively he's nibbling at it? The roti turned out to be quite good, and Jeff went back for seconds. He did, however, pass on the dates.

I wandered around and inspected the oases. Irrigation hose ran everywhere. In addition to the grove of date palms, there were several palm frond buildings, all of which were pretty primitive looking.

But..... there was a generator on the premises, and I spotted this A/C unit tucked into the wall of one of the huts. Doug said he spotted a TV dish too.  All the comforts, right?

One of the oasis caretakers had a small garden protected by a palm frond fence, and he ushered us all over to see it. He was clearly very proud of it.

I took this photo as we drove away. You can see the dune in the background that we drove down to reach the oasis. 

After our oasis visit we headed back across the desert and towards civilization. The Range Rovers intersected the highway at an ADNOC (Abu Dhabi National Oil Company) petrol station where they stopped to add air to their tires. It was only a short drive from there to the city of Liwa and our lunch destination at the Liwa Hotell.

Even though it had been a day of mostly sitting, it was still nice to relax poolside for an hour before heading back home. Doug got his double-shot espresso.

So now I've seen a desert, and it was awesome.  I think that word is used so casually these days that it's lost it's true meaning and power. I almost hesitate to use it, but I can think of no better word. 

I told Jeff I still want to visit his California deserts because I know all deserts are not the same, not by a long shot. Rather than think "now I've done deserts", I am motivated more than ever to visit Joshua Tree or Palm Springs or the Mojave Desert. I would love to see what they're like - in what ways they're similar to the Empty Quarter and how they differ. 

I don't think I'd want to spend the rest of my life living in a desert region, but I surely do enjoy visiting them. 

DAY NINETY ONE - The Eastern Mangrove Lagoon of Abu Dhabi

It was during my second day in the United Arab Emirates that I first glimpsed the mangrove lagoon. Cathy Harborow, the NYU Abu Dhabi Manager of Community Support, was taking me on a whirlwind tour of the city. After visiting the Grand Mosque our car sped up Salam Street on the eastern-most edge of the island city of Abu Dhabi, and as far as the eye could see were mangroves. I could not have been more surprised. Date palms I expected, and lots of sand, but mangroves? No.

Seeing my look, Cathy told me I was looking at the Eastern Mangrove Lagoon. And then she added the magic words, "you can go kayaking out there". I immediately started a mental list of Things I Want to Do While in Abu Dhabi, and first on that list was "Kayak in the Eastern Mangroves". 

I've lived in the Northeastern U.S. all my life, so mangroves are a novelty for me. The first time I saw them was only a few years ago when I went to Naples, FL, with my friend Susan for her Birthday Getaway. The hotel where we stayed had a lovely boardwalk that wound its way through a mangrove forest on the way to the beach. The second time I saw them was a half a year later when Doug and I went to Key West for vacation. We booked a half-day cruise which included paddling in a clear plastic kayak through mangrove islands. I found it exotic and fascinating. 

On the Florida Keys kayak trip Doug and I shared a kayak, and he steered. Yes, this is me trying to untangle ourselves from the mangroves. Need I say more?

When it came time to come up with ideas for Jeff's Christmas visit, I immediately thought this would be the perfect occasion to go on that kayaking trip in the Eastern Mangrove Lagoon. My goal for Jeff's visit was to have him experience the entire region: the cities and the countryside, the wide open deserts of the interior, and the shore and wetlands along the Arabian Gulf coast. 

I did some investigating and booked a 2-1/2 hour eco-tour with Noukhada Adventure Company because I liked the idea that all of us could learn about mangroves and their unique role in the ecosystem while having a nice paddle. When I called they gave me the option of single-seat kayaks or two-seaters. I said we'd all like our own kayak, please (see photo above). 

You've heard me whine about how challenging it is to find places in this country, especially if they're a bit off the beaten path. Well, this was another one of those challenges. The launch point, as best I could tell from the directions and map on the website, was off a highway on an unmarked dirt road. Doug's smartphone said it was an 18 minute trip. I said "Uh huh" and had the cab pick us up an hour before the launch time. 

The cabbie was confused, and who could blame him?  We drove down the highway and then doubled back over an overpass per the website instructions, but we saw no dirt road - just a LOT of construction and very large machines and workers. I could see the mangroves through the dust, but where, where where was the launch point? I tried calling Noukhada, but I went right into voicemail. So we retraced our route, and throwing caution to the wind we pulled up into that construction site. The cabbie gamely bounced through potholes and headed in the general direction of the lagoon. 

We rounded some bushes, and there it was. A few SUV's were pulled up to the shore with boat trailers hitched behind. A young woman sat on a folding chair at a card table, looking over what I assumed was a sign-up list. Several very tanned and very fit young men in sporty sunglasses were handing out life preservers to the dozen or so people milling about. As our taxi disappeared down the dirt track in a cloud of dust I vaguely wondered how we were going to get home again, but for the moment I was just happy to have found the place. 

Doug cleverly brought along a plastic bag so he could stow his cellphone, money, etc. We also brought along jackets because it was a cool morning, but the paddling kept us warm enough that we didn't need them. 

I will confess to enhancing the color of this photo a little bit, but truly the waters in Abu Dhabi are turquoise. I just love the glimpse of the city skyline in the distance and the clouds reflecting in the lagoon. 

Kayaks were pulled up along this small rocky beach. It took a little bit of doing to clamber down the slippery boulders to get to them. 

Our naturalist guide was an Aussie, and I think he must have been the owner of Noukhada Adventure Company. As he climbed nimbly into his kayak, a lab bounded over the rocks, jumped onto the bow and took what was clearly his place. We were all introduced to Edison. Then we paddled out into the lagoon for several minutes, putting distance between ourselves and the noise of the highway.

I found this photo on the web. The sprawling and cushy Anantara Eastern Mangroves Hotel & Spa is in the middle of the shot, with the mangroves on one side, and the highway and city on the other. Our launch point was out of frame to the left of the shot, but this gives you a sense of how close the mangroves are to the city. The launch point was located in a place where the waters open up and the mangroves are not so packed together as you see here. 

Once we rounded the first large clump of mangroves the skyline disappeared, and it was like we were in another world. The only sound was the dipping of paddles and the gentle swoosh of kayaks cutting through the water. Our guide stopped or or slowed down periodically to point out features of the lagoon. 

Photo courtesy of the web. The water was very shallow amongst the mangroves. If you pushed your paddle down you could easily touch bottom. We glided in and out of winding Mangrove "lanes", ducking under the occasional overhanging branches. 

We learned that the Arabian Gulf has one of the highest salt contents in the world because it has a relatively small opening out to the ocean (Straits of Hormuz), it is on the shallow side, and the high heat causes lots of evaporation. As a result there is only one species of mangrove growing in this area, the Grey Mangrove. Unlike the mangroves I saw in Florida, this species is relatively short and shrubby. 

The development of the past few decades - building construction and dredging - resulted in the natural mangrove lagoons being decimated in many areas. Fortunately the value of the mangroves has now been realized, and steps are being taken to not only preserve the lagoons that exist, but to replenish and expand them. Abu Dhabi has a long-range and very comprehensive plan (which I need to read up on and learn more about) called Abu Dhabi 2030. This plan includes establishing five national parks, the first of which is the newly designated Eastern Mangrove Lagoon National Park.

Twice during our kayak adventure, we pulled up on dry land for a little lecture and walk about. Our guide pointed out the roots of the mangroves which push UP out of the ground, rather then digging into the sand, so they can reach air and breathe. I was particularly fascinated to learn that mangroves remove the salt from the water and  "spit" it out through their leaves. 

In this new National Park the mangroves are supposed to be protected, and fishing is prohibited. As our guide lectured us (see photo above) a government patrol boat, the first of several, roared by, sending a damaging wake into the mangroves. He paused and noted dryly that this happens all the time. He said the day before he'd even come upon one of the government boats pulled into a quiet cove so the crew could fish! So while the government and biologists recognize the importance of the mangrove lagoons, clearly there is still much education that needs to be done, not only with the public, but perhaps first with the people hired to patrol and protect them. 

After 2 hours we headed back to the launch point, and as far as I was concerned it was the perfect time. My arms were beginning to give out, and I fantasized briefly how nice it would be to lean back in my kayak and be towed to shore. 

Doug, Jeff and I turned in our life vests, thanked the guide and assessed the situation. The kayaks were the kind where you sit on top of the boat, rather than tucked into it. As a result the water had dripped (poured, really) off the paddles and squarely onto our legs. We were all soaked from the butt down and did not have a change of clothes. Not that it mattered since there was no place to change. 

As we watched our fellow kayakers go off in their cars, Doug looked at me and said, "Now what?", and Jeff's eyes and expression echoed that very excellent question. "We walk", I replied, because really, what was our option?  

We headed toward the highway, dodging giant dump trucks and bulldozers, and turned in the direction of the Anantara Resort. I recalled it being not all that far away, and I reasoned that since taxis pull into resorts all the time, we could easily catch one there. 

The traffic roared by at our elbows at highway speeds as we trudged in the sun. Well, I thought optimistically, at least our pants will dry out. But they didn't. They just got caked with dust. The resort looked further away than memory served me, and we were running out of anywhere to walk. We could see construction fencing up ahead.  When we came upon a large patch of sandy dirt adjacent to the road, Doug, who was pretty disgusted and a little bit desperate at this point, turned and faced the oncoming traffic and raised his arm. Miraculously a cabbie saw him, pulled over and picked us up. 

Once safely home, showered, and dressed in clean, dry clothes, we looked back on the morning and gave it a unanimous thumbs up. Like me, Jeff had not anticipated coming to a desert country and having an Adventure like this, and he loved it. 

Just thinking back on that day has me smiling from ear to ear!

DAY EIGHTY TWO - Oh me, oh my, Oman!

Doug has been so busy and consumed with his job at NYU Abu Dhabi that it is not surprising that some personal matters have slipped off his radar. Thus this conversation one evening a month ago:

Doug: S**t! I just realized I have some frequent flyer miles with Etuhad that are going to expire tonight. 

Me: Tonight?!?!?!

Doug: Yup. Guess I'll just have to lose them.

Me: No way! Let's book a flight. Somewhere. Anywhere. Doesn't matter. 

And just like that we booked an overnight trip to Muscat, Oman. 

Oman is about the size of Italy 

Oman borders the U.A.E. to the East, and it's only a short 50-minute flight from Abu Dhabi to the capital city of Muscat. I had a window seat so I could see the desert below me for the first half of the trip. At first the dunes were small and in shades of beige, and then they abruptly changed to a rusty red and grew dramatically in size. I knew we'd reached the border with Oman when the desert gave way to jagged mountains. 

The view from my window as we went over the mountains. I've flown over the Rockies many times, and these mountains are very different.

As we approached Muscat, we descended through the clouds. The mountains were close enough to reach out and touch. Not really, but it felt that way to me. 

It didn't take us long to pass through the airport. Step 1 was to buy our tourist visa. As I stood in line I heard a cellphone go off right behind me, and I smiled as I recognized Elvis Presley's crooning. "Ah, another American", I thought, but then I heard the owner of the cellphone answer in an unmistakable Arabic accent. When reached the counter Doug and I went up to one attendant, and the man behind me walked to the attendant right next to us, so I was able to glance over and see that he was a middle-aged gentleman in Western business dress. The first question we were asked was our country of origin, and I heard the gentleman answer "Iran". Apparently The King's fans know no borders. I like that. 

Once through Passport Control, we collected our one bag, got a cab and pulled out into the bright blue sky and sunshine of Muscat. The city is long and narrow, situated between the mountains and the shoreline of the Arabian Sea. Like Abu Dhabi and Dubai, most of it is fairly new construction, but unlike those two cities, Oman made the very deliberate decision to not go the high-rise route and imposed a strict height restriction. As we flew down the very modern highway I was taken with the low-slung, white-washed architecture, the traditional crenelated roof-lines, mosques with blue-tiled domes and minarets (a very different style from what I've seen in the UAE), and beautiful landscaping of palms and flowers and swaths of green grass. The city of white and green contrasted sharply with the mountains, but at the same time it fit right into the landscape. To me Abu Dhabi feels like it was dropped from the sky onto the flat sands bordering the Arabian Gulf, but Muscat feels like it grew out of the earth. 

A fellow ex-pat had advised me to find a hotel in the city rather than on the outskirts, saying Muscat was fascinating to explore, that it had a more "Old Arabia" vibe to it, far different from Abu Dhabi and Dubai. So I heeded the advice and almost randomly picked the Grand Hyatt. I had company for most of the past month and didn't have a lot of time to do research. 

When I checked in I was surprised to hear the concierge tell me she was giving me a room upgrade. I loved the place already! Doug and I followed the bell boy as he trundled our suitcase down hallway after hallway, for what seemed miles. Finally we rounded the final corner, and as he unlocked the door he said, "You will love the view".

I walked into the room and gasped. The room was the biggest hotel room I've ever been in, and through a large french door opening to a balcony I could see the blue expanse of the Gulf of Oman. I think I danced across the room, flung open the door and stepped out. All I could hear was the gentle roar of waves crashing on the beach. 

This was the view from our 4th (top) floor balcony. The main pool was beneath our window, and the beach was a short walk away. 

This sounds crazy even to me, but when I booked this hotel, I had failed to notice that it was actually on the water, so to find this outside my window took me completely and utterly by surprise. Instantly my plan to drop our bags in the room and head back out to the city evaporated. The sound and sight of the water and the tranquility of this place enveloped me. Exploring the city could wait till tomorrow.

It was the right decision. Look at Doug, pants rolled up and shoes in hand. And doesn't he look so relaxed?

We explored the pool area and the gardens, and then we walked to the shore. It was clearly a public beach, and it stretched from horizon to horizon. We took off our shoes and waded into the water. By Jersey Shore standards, it was warm. The air temperature was maybe in the low 70's, so with a brisk breeze blowing, it was a bit cool for swimming. Good thing too, since I had failed to pack swim suits! 

We walked and walked and walked, and apparently I was still in bird-watching mode as I found myself checking out the terns and gulls. We even spied a heron wading in the waters, and I am proud to say I identified it as a Western Reef-Heron, having recently seen it with Linda at the wildlife sanctuary near Dubai. I emailed Linda this photo and several others, and she confirmed it. 

Western Reef-Heron on the hunt. 

After our long walk we stopped by the hotel poolside bar/restaurant for a drink. I was feeling tropical what with the water and palms and all, so I had a Mai-Tai. By this time it was cooling down, and I was very glad I had packed a wrap in my handbag. 

We stayed put that evening and dined at one of the hotel restaurants, an Italian one called Tuscany. It was fabulous. The service was excellent, and the food absolutely delicious. That evening we slept with the french doors open so we could hear the sea. 

We slept in a bit the next morning as Doug was seriously sleep-deprived. This will surprise no-one who knows him. After coffee we got a cab and headed to the Mutrah Souk, which is pretty much the #1 place to go when visiting Muscat. 

This is the Mutrah neighborhood. This picture (off the web) shows how it's tucked right between the mountains and the water. There is a sizeable port to the left (out of frame), and I am told small cruise ships come in regularly.

I like this photo as it clearly shows the blue-tiled minaret of a mosque. Most of the mosques in Muscat are decorated in similar fashion, which is quite different from the mosques I see in Abu Dhabi. Note the street lamps - they are very pretty. And look how close the mountains are! This is not an optical illusion - they are that close.

This is the main entrance to the Mutrah Souk. Do not be deceived by its modest appearance as the souk stretches beyond this in all directions, like branches off a tree trunk. It goes on for blocks and blocks. 

The souk was dimly lit, the floor irregularly paved, and it was lined with colorful shop after shop. Small alleys went out in all directions, and it was packed with locals and tourists. Oh yes, this was the real McCoy, just as I'd imagined it.

I loved the brightly-colored pottery and brass coffee pots stacked up on an alley stairway

All along the way the vendors called out to me, "Madam (accent on the 2nd syllable) I have a beautiful pashmina for you!" Another approached me with a bottle of perfume, offering to dab some on my wrist. Yet another gestured toward a table saying "Buy some frankincense, Madam!" 

This made me think of Carrie in the "Sex and the City" movie. Didn't she end up buying a pair of these????

Oman is more traditional than the UAE, and the shopkeepers follow the custom of closing at 1:00 and re-opening at 4:00 for evening hours. We had only 1 hour to shop before the souk closed for the afternoon, and Doug appeared greatly relieved. A shopper he is not. I suggested we walk along the roadway to the historical district of Old Muscat, which I thought was just around that bend. Note the pretty plantings. Most of the main roads looked nice like this, even well beyond the city limits.

It turned out Old Muscat was not just up the road. After a few kilometers we came upon a small park and this bike share. I immediately thought of my friend, Mary Jo, who loves to bike and took this photo for her. I would deem Muscat and the surrounding area very "bikeable" indeed.

Finally we came upon this - the gate to the city of Old Muscat. An honest-to-goodness city gate. I loved it! I read in my guide book that up until a few decades ago, these gates were actually closed at night.

As it turned out, once we got into this old section of Muscat, we discovered that it's not just the shops that close down in the afternoon. It's pretty much everything. No museums were open. None of the historical sites either. Big bummer. Doug was hot and a bit cranky by now, and we were hungry for lunch, so when he saw a cab coming in our direction, he raised his arm. And that's how we met Hassan. 

In the U.A.E. the majority of the population, 80%, is ex-pat, and they comprise most of the work force. In Oman it is the reverse. As a result you find Omanis in all lines of work, including driving cabs. I was delighted to actually meet and talk with a local. And talk we did. 

We told our young cabbie that we wanted to go for lunch, and Doug had the idea we should drive out to the Shangri-La Resort for the sake of the ride and the scenery. The cabs are not metered in Oman, so you always ask first about the cost. Hassan said it was about a 20-minute ride and would cost 10 Rials, which sounded fair to us. His English was very good, and he chatted all along the way, which is totally unlike the cabbies in Abu Dhabi who say nothing. Hassan wanted to know where we were from and what brought us to Abu Dhabi and how long we were staying. He told us about Muscat and pointed out different sights along the drive. When I exclaimed about a particularly breathtaking view, he immediately pulled over to the side of the road and ushered me out so I could take a photo. He loved that I loved his country and positively beamed when I told him how beautiful I found it. "You come back again," he told me. 

I took this photo as we approached the Shangri-La Resort which is several miles south of Muscat. The land is rugged, and there are many coves such as this one. Hassan pointed out several marinas - sport fishing and diving are very popular in this country.

When we reached the resort, Hassan asked how long we would be. He said he'd be happy to wait for us. We hesitated because of course in NYC the meter would be running, and we were quite sure it would be easy to get another cab at the resort when we were ready to leave. But as it turns out, it is not customary to leave the meter running - they don't have one - and cabbies routinely wait for a customer, whether they are dining or shopping. So we said sure, and when we were done, there was Hassan at the entrance as promised. 

On the way back to the Hyatt, Hassan asked if we "had time" because he had ideas of places we might like to see. By now we were feeling comfortable with him and thought why not. Our flight wasn't till late that evening, and we for sure had time. 

Hassan pulled up to the entrance of the Bustan Palace, an opulent hotel, and instructed us to "Run inside and look. Two minutes. I'll be here." So we ran in as instructed, and oh my goodness! It was absolutely amazing. I gawked, but for only two minutes. Then back we ran.

Next up was Old Muscat, which was where we'd hailed Hassan to begin with. It was after 4:00 pm. so everything was open, and Hassan suggested we go into the Bait Al Zubair, a private museum complex which contained Omani artifacts that spanned centuries: clothes and jewelry, swords and daggers and antique firearms, pottery and weaving. It was fascinating and beautiful. 

The front entrance

The palm frond house and gardens

There were also gardens with a traditional palm frond house, well and irrigation system. In and about the garden and in the courtyard was a temporary art exhibit of painted goat (I think) sculptures.

I really liked this "King Tut" goat

When we were done we walked back to the street but could not find Hassan. Did he get tired of waiting for us? We wandered around, found a parking lot, but still did not see him. Then there he was walking toward us. He'd gone into an adjacent mosque to pray, he said. 

It was dusk when we got back to the hotel, and Hassan asked when we were going to the airport. He'd come back and take us there when we were ready. He gave us his card, and several hours later we called him. It seemed the right thing to do.

I've been in this part of the world for almost three months now, and this is what I think. If you want sparkle and glitz, and if clubbing or shopping is your thing, then Dubai is your destination. If you want to visit a capital city that has lots of sporting opportunities and events and tons of 5+ star hotels and restaurants, then go to Abu Dhabi. But if you want to go to a place that is smaller and quieter, that manages to feel old and new at the same time, where you can simply relax amidst incredible natural beauty, then I recommend Muscat, Oman. 

I love Oman.