Arrival and a tour of Muscat.
Oman chapter one
I arrive in Muscat near midnight, a short flight from Dubai after a long layover, where I had the opportunity to meet up with a friend I made while touring Armenia. We end up at the Dubai Mall drinking coffee and eating Chinese dumplings before she drives me back to the airport.
I take a cab to the apartment, the driver driving around a series of buildings to find the parking lot in the back. I text the building manager who meets me with the keys and takes me up to the apartment, two large rooms near the top of a high rise looking out towads the Mall of Oman and the surrounding hills.
I’ve nothing planned for Sunday, giving myself the opportunity to rest and acclimate to the weather. What errands I hope to accomplish can all be done at the mall.
I sleep in, enjoying the cool air conditioning, curious what heat the day may bring. When I finally rouse myself from bed I shower and put on a long-sleeve shirt to head out to the mall.
I’m staying in the Bawshar neighborhood, what looks to be an up-and-coming area with new developments on the way. There are a few malls in the area in addition to the Mall of Oman and a prominent IKEA that I spotted the night before.
The Mall of Oman is the largest mall in Muscat and walking distance from my apartment. On my way I pass an Indian bakery and stop for an aloo paratha. I wait as they prepare and it bake it in the tandoor. It comes out hot and I feel it burn my fingers as I pick up a piece and put it in my mouth, the warm bread and spicy potatos a fantastic start to the day.
To get to the mall, I have to cross a highway connector, but it seems surprisingly less traveled. There’s also clear paths in the medians where people have trod indicating that I’m not the only one who has made this walk. In fact, I end up following someone all the way to the mall and watch as he enters a service entrance. I imagine he’s bringing lunch to his coworkers.
Inside, the mall gleams. It’s soft opening was in September of 2021, but the official inauguration ceremony wasn’t until February 7, 2023. It’s incredibly clean and modern and cool and I enjoy the respite from the heat.
Snow Oman (I feel like they missed a branding opportunity with SnOman) anchors one corner of the mall. The largest indoor snow park in the Middle East, Snow Oman boasts an ice rink, a colony of King and Gentoo penguins, and simulated blizzards. From a second-story window I gaze down at a group of schoolchildren who are all dressed in matching winter outfits engaged in an impromptu snowball fight.
In the mall, I treat myself to an ice cream.
I buy groceries and walk back home, picking up more bread from the Indian bakery along the way. It’s all I can do to stop myself from eating it all while it’s still hot and steaming up the plastic bag they’ve put it in.
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The next morning I get a WhatsApp message at 08h38. I’ve booked a city tour for the day with an 09h pickup. I text Yahya that I’ll be right down and meet him in the front of the building.
Yahya lives 100 km to the north of Muscat. He tells me he rose at 06h30 to come down to pick me up. He has three children, two boys and a daughter, who’s turning two on June ninth. He tells me she’s the queen.
Our first stop is the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque. Opened in 2001, it’s the largest mosque in Oman, the third-largest in the world. Inside, it boasts the second-largest hand-woven carpet in the world, woven by women in Iran before being transported to Oman and finished in Muscat. It had been the largest before being overtaken by one that adorns the floor of the Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque in Abu Dhabi.
We enter the courtyard and begin our tour of the complex. There are a number of tours visiting, but the crowds can’t diminish the grandness of the mosque itself. The heat also seems to discourage tourists from lingering, and the courtyards feel almost empty at times.
The mosque is constructed from approximately 300,000 tons of Indian sandstone, and it gleams in the sun. The hall itself holds over 6,500 worshippers; if you include the women’s prayer hall and exterior grounds and courtyards the mosque can accommodate up to 20,000 worshippers in all.
Yahya leads me into the hall, an expansive space with large columns pushing the ceiling heavenwards. An immense chandelier hovers over the center of the hall suspended from a domed ceiling.
We’re drawfed by the immensity of the building. Yahya finishes telling me about the mosque and leaves me to walk on my own towards the mihrab. The Persian-style tiles were handmade in Iran and I stand and gawk at their intricate designs when I get the opportunity to approach.
I look for Yahya and see him in a corner of the mosque to my right. I follow the carpet over to him and we circle the edges of the hall to the exit.
He leads me out and through the exterior courtyards to the exit. We walk along the edge of the courtyard to the car, following a different path than when we entered.
We drive east towards the Mutrah Corniche and souq. The city is spread out and it takes a little while to get to our next stop. I ask him what his plans are for the weekend. He tells me he wishes he could continue with me on my next tour to Wadi Shab and then to Nizwa but he already has another tour planned. I wish he could be my guide for my next few trips as well.
He tells me he’s also planning a shopping trip to Dubai with his family. It’s not that far from where he lives, he tells me, only a three-hour drive. Sometimes they’ll spend the night, sometimes they’ll do it all in a day.
As we approach the corniche I notice two ships in the distance. Oh, I didn’t know there were cruise sihps here, I say. Yahya corrects me. Those yachts belong to the sultan. Though he’s thinking of converting one to a ferry to shuttle people down the coast from Muscat to Salalah in the south. He tells me the sultan has a smaller yacht being built in Italy which he will keep.
Speaking of Salalah, Yahya recommends I visit if I have the time. I ask about visiting the north and he tells me I’d have to go through Dubai in order to get from where we are to the north. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to visit either area and make a note to include at least Salalah on my next visit.
He parks the car and pays with his phone before leading me to the souq. He gives me an overview of the area and a rough sense of they layout of the souq. He tells me not to wander too far off the main path and asks me not to get lost before giving me time to wander alone. He tells me he’ll be waiting at a cafe near the entrance and to come find him when I’m done.
There’s a main boulevard that runs through souq from the waterfront and I follow it to the end before turning around and heading down a side street. From there I see if I can get lost. A smaller alley runs off of this one through the gold souq and I follow that path to see where else it may lead.
I wander some of the smaller lanes and find that they keep circling back to the main area. It’s almost impossible to get lost; the souq isn’t so large and it’s a pretty quiet afternoon. At one point I emerge out onto the waterfront a few blocks from the entrance but I head back into the souq and quickly find my way back to the main street.
I walk back to the far end of the souq to admire the roof and a large space that marks the southern entrace before heading back to the waterfront entrance to meet find Yahya.
With a little more time allotted I take a stroll along the waterfront. I’ll be in Muscat for a few weeks and consider coming back in the evening to see how popular it may be for a post-dinner consitutional.
I find Yahya seated in the shade at a cafe. He bids me to sit down and offers me a menu. I order a juice and welcome the opportunity to relax before we continue our tour.
Once I’ve finished we head back to the car and Yahya drives us to a viewpoint over the city so I can see the city nestled between the rocky mountains, a sliver of the sea just visible beyond.
We drive to the Bait al Zubair Museum, a museum set in an old private house with exhibits showcasing Oman’s history and heritage. I’m particularly drawn to the exhibition of traditional clothing.
Outside I admire the architecture and a scale model of Omani village set alongside a walking path between the museum and the cafe.
Outside the museum Yahya tells me he’s talked to the head office. They were having issues processing my credit card and we’ve agreed that I will pay them cash. I ask him to drive me to an ATM to withdraw the necessary funds and we try two before one is able to dispense the cash I need.
From there he drives me to Al Alam Palace, a relatively new construction having been commissioned by Sultan Qaboos bin Said and completed in 1972. It replaced an old palace, damaged in 1895 by tribal insurgents., and left untouched due to lack of funds. The new palace was designed by Indian architects Shapoorji Pallonji, who are also responsible for one of the largest convention centers in the city.
The grounds themselves are off limits but Yahya parks and I’m allowed to walk to the gates for a photo.
On the way back I ask to be dropped off at the Mall of Oman. Yahya asks if I’ve been and suggests I check out one of the other nearby malls, the Muscat Grand Mall. I ask if I can walk home from there. I can, but may not want to in the late afternoon heat. The walk also isn’t particularly scenic.
I thank him as he drops me off. He tells me he might see if he can swap dates and join me for my other excursions. He suggests when I go to Wadi Shab that I go first to the wadi and then hit the sinkhole on the way back because of the heat, leaving as early as I can.
I ask about spending a night in Nizwa and he tells me it’s a good idea; it’s nice to be there in the evening. Given the excursions I have planned it seems like it would also save time from me heading into the interior then back out to the coast only to return to the interior to see the forts.
The mall is big, but it’s not as nice as the Mall of Oman. I walk the halls to familiarize myself with the stores at the mall before heading to the food court for lunch. I order a Thai noodle dish and eat in the somewhat dated dining area before heading back to the entrance to hail a cab home. 🇴🇲
