We left for Muscat around 9:30 Friday morning, the first day of Eid, a big Muslim holiday. It was supposed to take 5 hours at the most. We had all of the necessary papers for crossing the border between the UAE and Oman, so we went forth confidently, anticipating no delays or hold-ups. We imagined the border to be kind of like a toll both where you stop and show papers out of your window. We thought, worse-case scenario, they'd search our car.
When we were nearing the border we saw some buildings with lots of cars parked and lots of people lined up. There were no signs stating what the station was or indicating that we needed to stop. We didn't want to get out of our car or wait in lines, so we kept going. Woohoo! No one is stopping us – that station doesn't apply to us! Then ten kilometers later we got to another station. This time we thought it wise to ask someone what we needed to do. They told us to park and go by a nearby building, so we did. It was around 1 P.M., and the holiday travel traffic was in full force. The parking lot was packed, and people were driving crazily. We went into the building, which reminded me of any government building back in the States. It was tall and white with columns out front. Inside were marble floors and officers behind glass windows stamping documents. There were people wall-to-wall, and the lines weren't moving at all. Woody got in line while Griffin and I went upstairs to stand in line for Pizza Hut, the only restaurant in there. We were thankful for it, however, because we had forgotten to eat lunch.
Woody finally made it to the window around 3:30, where they told him that we were missing our “exit stamp.” Yep. That station ten kilometers back? That was where we were supposed to get the exit stamp. So the officer told him, “No problem, just drive back only ten kilometers to get it. Then come back here and come right to the front of the line and I'll process you quickly.” So we got back in our car still with high spirits, thinking it wouldn't take long to go back ten klicks to get the exit stamp. But then as soon as we left the parking lot, we hit the bumper-to-bumper standstill traffic.
For those of you who live in Jackson, imagine County Line Road on Christmas Eve Day. Or for our Arlington friends, South Cooper Street during lunch time. It took us two hours to drive ten kilometers. When we were almost at the exit station, Griffin announced that he had to poop. “We're almost there,” we told him. “You'll have to wait until we can go in and find a bathroom.” But he said, “It's an emergency!” We realized that we were going to have to get creative. We were surrounded by conservative Emiratis who surely wouldn't take kindly to us allowing Griffin to poop on the side of the road at the border of their country. So Woody desperately told him to squat down and poop on the rug of the car. I spotted a plastic grocery bag in the back seat and told Griffin that he could poop in that. “No!” he cried, “Daddy told me to poop on the rug!” (I will remember that sentence for the rest of my life, by the way.) So Woody told him to ignore his previous command and go with my idea. So I held the bag open like a toilet, and he squatted down and eliminated the problem.
I thought I was going to vomit. I know that I used to change diapers multiple times a day, but either I've gotten desensitized to it or the oxytocin from nursing was stronger than I gave it credit for or something! It was so bad I started gagging. That will by far be my most memorable parenting moment of Griffin's childhood. Before you have a child, you never in a million years imagine that you'll be holding a bag for your child to poop in on the border between Oman and the UAE.
Finally we reached the exit station, and an officer told us to park in some gravel and go to a little booth and stand in line outside of it. Griffin and I waited in the car. I crocheted; Griffin pretended to drive. Over the course of the hour and a half it took Woody to wait in line, we witnessed a near-accident, which I later learned was caused by us! The officer had told us to park in a place that blocked the flow of traffic. A guard later told Woody that they had been looking everywhere for him to move the car. I was sitting in it with the windows open – they could've just asked me to move it! Something I've noticed in this country is that men sometimes will only talk to the husband and not the wife. Not everyone is like this, but I've witnessed it on several occasions.
So anyway, Woody got to the front of the line and was then told that Griffin and I had to be with him, so he begged the man in line behind him to save his place, ran to get us, and then we ran up to show our faces. With that stamp attained, we drove then ten kilometers back to get our Oman tourist visas. By this time it was around 7 P.M., and there was hardly a line. Finally, after almost seven hours at the border, we got our visas and continued on into Oman.
By this time it was dark, so we couldn't see anything, but it was a relatively easy drive parallel to the coastline. The biggest driving hazard was the men jumping across the street the whole way there. Even close to midnight, Omanis would jump out of nowhere to cross the busy highway on foot. It was stressful for Woody driving after the long day we'd had.
We finally got there around midnight, and we were able to move a sleeping Griffin right into our beautiful room. The bed and breakfast stayed up and waited for us, and they were very helpful and accommodating.
We had a nice stay in Oman. We went to the Corniche in Muscat where I bought some silver earrings that I love and a Pashmina scarf from Kashmir. And back-alley merchant tried his darnedest to swindle us out of ten riyals for a toy for Griffin, but we stood our ground and walked away with the toy for only 3.5 riyals. We also ate some of the best Indian food ever. The drive around the Corniche and back to our b&b was beautiful; a perfect blend of sea, mountains, and beautiful Omani buildings.
All around the city are pictures of the sultan of Oman, Sultan Qaboos. With his grey beard and friendly eyes, he reminded me of Gandolf from Lord of the Rings, helpfully looking over the city through a crystal ball. We sort of fell in love with Qaboos while we were there, not knowing much about him. Woody loves his name. Just the idea that there is a “Sultan Qaboos” in the world makes Woody happy. And I loved his friendly face and colorful pictures all around the city.
On the ride home I read about Qaboos in a travel guide. Since he took rule of Oman via a peaceful coup in 1970, he's made great improvements on the country's economy and education and has modernized it while preserving the Omani culture and traditions. He is a much loved and celebrated sultan. This confirmed our adoration of him.
If Sultan Qaboos weren't reason enough to love Oman, the country is out-of-this world beautiful. We left the sea at our backs when we left Muscat, and we drove deeper into the Al Hajar Mountains. You can see a wide array of minerals in the mountain and cliff faces: copper, iron, rose quartz, and so many others that I'm unqualified to guess at. I wished I'd had my geologist friends with me to shared in my excitement and identify what we were seeing. These geological wonders were also apparent on the beach by our bed & breakfast. Abundant were sea-smoothed stones in every color I've ever seen on the earth. Rosy pink, deep green, true black, jasper red, and cool grey. I typically love collecting shells when we go to the beach, but they were boring compared to these stones. Each one I saw was more unique and vibrant than the last. I did collect a few, but I wanted to leave Oman in Oman, so I resisted my urge to make a coffee table out of them.
Alongside the colorful mountains we saw lots of long-haired mountain goats and several camels. We've seen camel crossing signs in the UAE but had never seen a camel crossing at one. However, during this trip we saw camels crossing at several points, sometimes back and forth across the road indecisively.
We made our way through the Hajars toward Nizwa, one of the oldest cities in Oman. Most everything was closed for Eid, so we just drove around the city center and then headed up to Hoota Cave. This was a beautiful country drive. It took us out of traffic and down winding mountain roads. Unfortunately, when we got to the cave, it was two hours until the next tour through the cave itself, so we just walked around the museum instead. Fortunately, there was a buffet; we were all starving. If you ever go to Hoota Cave, eat at the buffet. It's a little on the pricier side at 5 riyals per person (and I think this was discounted from 8 riyals due to the holiday), but it was a fantastic buffet. I think it was Omani food. We don't know exactly what Omani food is because foods from other cultures such as Indian and Lebanese are prevalent there. However, the dishes were similar to Emirati cuisine with some differences and dishes I hadn't seen before, so it felt authentic.
After Hoota we went down to Bahla because we heard there were castle ruins that were interesting to see. I expected a guided tour much like at Hoota Cave. We spotted what looked like a castle, so we parked in a lot and walked up to it. Inside the “rooms” were rubble and trash. There was part of the castle with scaffolding that was being renovated (part of Qaboos's initiative). We climbed up a muddy path and found a pillar of smoke and pungent smell. Then I looked in one of the “rooms” of the castle and saw a family living in there! They came out and talked to us and said they didn't mind us looking around. They explained that they were roasting goat to celebrate Eid. They all spoke English, and there were little girls dressed in pink who flashed heart-melting smiles.
(Sorry the pictures aren't in order and are all together rather than placed appropriately in the text. I'm having trouble moving them.)
The fire pit where they were roasting the goat.
Standing in front of the castle ruins.
Woody and Griffin at the top.
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On our drive to Mettrah (near the Corniche). |
The toy that we bargained for. You can see that it was worth it.
View near the Corniche.
Our B&B: L'Espace
Beach in front of b&b
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| Souq where we bought toy |
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| Our room |
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| our room |
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| Woody relaxing in our room |
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| climbing to the top of the castle with Griffin |
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| The Hajar Mountains |
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| Bahla castle ruins |
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| Hajar Mountains |
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| camel that crossed twice :) |
Then we climbed up to the courtyard of the castle and found some men and boys. Griffin played with the boys a bit (although I wouldn't let him walk along the wall like they were). And Woody talked to the men and learned a bit about the city. There is a crumbling wall around the city that, the men told him, stretches twelve kilometers around.
We hated to leave, as this was our least-touristy experience so far in Oman, but it was late afternoon and we still had several hours to drive home to Dubai. It was a good thing we left when we did, too, because right after we arrived in Al Ain in Dubai it rained, which accounts for some of the 2 inches of rain that the UAE gets each year.
We made it home just after dark, exhausted but grateful to have discovered Oman. We have plans to go back to Bahla again as well as the southern ports of Oman, Salalah if we're up for the drive. At least this time we'll know enough not to cross a border on a busy holiday. Woody and I agree, however, that although it took us fourteen hours to get to Muscat from Dubai on Friday, it was worth it. Oman fills the holes that Dubai leaves in our hearts. Dubai has bad traffic; Oman isn't quite as bustling. Emiratis keep to themselves, whereas Omanis are friendlier and more prevalent in the culture (working in businesses, etc). Dubai's air is polluted; Oman provides crisp country air. Above all, Oman is beautiful in a way that can't quite be described.
