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Friday, 23 November 2018

Oman (10): To the Edge of the Empty Quarter

A 'Lost' City in a Vast Expanse of Nothingness, Frankincense and the Salalah Museum

Khareef and the Mystery of the Empty Hotel


Oman
For the first time in our stay, a buffet was set out for breakfast. Ful, chilli, eggs and cheese went down well, but we still ate alone. We had learned yesterday that the hotel had seven guests occupying five rooms. Were they busier today or was this for show?

We met up with R and drove north across the arid land of the coastal strip towards the even more arid land of the higher ground behind.

North from Salalah

We asked him about the empty hotel. ‘It’s out of season,’ he said. Salalah’s temperature varies little throughout the year, the average daily high being 27º in the coolest months (January, February and August) and 32º in the warmest (May). We wondered when high season might be. ‘Khareef,’ R replied, literally ‘autumn’, ‘all hotels are full then’. The coastal fringe around Salalah is far enough south to just catch the edge of the south-west monsoon so July and August, among the hottest months elsewhere in Oman, are slightly cooler days of mist and drizzle locally called ‘autumn’. I see enough drizzle in my life and cannot imagine travelling to see more, particularly not hot, sweaty drizzle, but in khareef, visitors come from all over Oman, Saudi Arabia and the gulf to experience rain and enjoy the brief, but dramatic, transformation of the landscape. Proof, if it was needed, that holidays are about different experiences; if sand and sun (and possibly even sea) are your everyday habitat, what is attractive about a beach holiday?

The road north from Salalah during Khareef
Photo by Samadash65, borrowed from Wikipedia

Salalah to Thumrait

Salalah to Thumrait is an 80km drive on a good, if uncrowded road.

The Empty Qarter is a huge dune desert covering the southern third of Saudi Arabia, parts of the UAE, Oman and Yemen.
Its southern edge is some 150km north of Salalah

Camels present a problem but in daylight at least the warning signs are smaller, less obvious and far less frequent than the camels themselves.

Beware of camels on the road to Thumrait

Thumrait is a hot, dusty little town largely inhabited by the nomads who once wandered the desert but now find life easier in settlements around its fringe. The Royal Air Force of Oman has a base nearby but Thumrait mainly makes its living as a truck-stop, a staging point on the route from Yemen to Salalah, though trade with Oman’s war-torn neighbour is not what it was.

Thumrait, basically a truck-stop

Thumrait to Shisr (or Ubar)

A little north of Thumrait we turned onto Route 43 a smaller, relatively recently tarmacked road running 90km north-west to a village called Shisr, though Google maps marks it as Ubar.

The journey started through an expanse of nothing…

An expanse of nothing north of Thumrait

…but further on we encountered some extensive irrigated areas.

Irrigated area on the road to Shisr, the small building to the left covers a well.

Small conical heaps of dark stones started to appear beside the road every few hundred metres. They mark tracks into the desert many of them only a few hundred metres long and all ending at a small cuboid shaped building, like the one in the photograph above. They have an electricity supply and I believe they are wells.

There are two of the 'small conical heaps of dark stones' one on each side of the road

As we neared Shisr there were huge circles of cultivated land. Metal gantries more than 100m long rotate around a vertical axle carrying sprinkler heads to irrigate the whole circle. We had seen identical devices in the deserts of western Washington in the 1980s; Oman, like the USA, can afford to make the desert bloom.

Reaching Shisr

Shisr or Ubar (or Iram of the Pillars)

Shisr is a lonely hamlet deep in the desert. Tamarisk trees grow here without irrigation, and it was once the site of an important well, the last one going north for a very long way. Modern Shisr is a prosperous little place where experimental farms pump water from deep underground. Aerial views show some of the circular irrigated areas are almost 600m in diameter.

Tamarisk trees, Shisr

Shisr also has a roundabout (though very little traffic) a camp site and an archaeological site, with the greeting ‘Welcome to Ubar, the lost city of Bedouin legend’.

There is not a great deal to see apart from some suspiciously newly rebuilt walls…

Recently rebuilt walls at Shisr (or Ubar)

…and a propped up, part-collapsed limestone shelf from which a fort long ago fell into the well below, either because of seismic activity or because the water table dropped. R retreated to the shade to play with his phone, so we read the information boards from which we learned little.

The well and the remains of the fort, Shisr (or Ubar)

The tourist authorities would like us to believe these are the remains of the lost city of Ubar or Iram of the Pillars whose destruction merits a fleeting appearance in the Qur’an. It might be - and they apparently have Google maps convinced - but probably isn’t. It is a long story so it appears as an appendix at the end of the post.

Into the Empty Quarter

Shisr was Wilfrid Thesiger’s last stop before his epic crossing of the Empty Quarter in 1946. It was also the gateway to the Empty Quarter for our less epic visit to the great arid wilderness. At Shisr the tarmac ended and we took to the sand. At first accompanied by a power line…

Leaving Shisr

….but before long there was nothing but sand, as far as the eye can see. We were not yet in the Empty Quarter, though it looked pretty empty to me - apart from the lines of car tracks, all running in the same direction...

And this is not the Empty Quarter yet!

Half an hour from Shisr we drove through the remains of a desert camp. It was intended as a tourist attraction, like the Thousand Nights Camp in the Wahiba Sands, but now lies abandoned.

Abanadoned camp near the Empty Quarter

A little further on a water tanker, old, rusty and huge, lumbered crossed our path. ‘The Bedu used to sling water skins on to their camels,’ R said (or words to that effect), ‘but that’s how they move water now.’

The Empty Quarter has no ‘official’ boundary, but it is reasonable to say it starts with the dunes, which came into view only ten minutes beyond the deserted camp.


The dunes of the Empty Qarter come into sight

We had entered an area of scrub, dotted with surprisingly large shrubs. These are Sodom Apple (Calotropis Procera), which produces a green fruit about the size of an apple. It is largely filled with air and when ripe bursts ejecting seeds and a small quantity of fine fibres which in days gone by were twisted into matches for guns. The fleshy lobes contain a highly poisonous, sticky, soap-resistant latex. A plant to avoid.

Lynne as close to a Sodom Apple as a sensible person would wish to be

The dunes were heavily marked with tyre tracks, but the only two vehicles on them left as we arrived. R drove round the base of the first set of dunes but was reluctant to venture onto them. Once you leave the flat land at the base….

On the firm ground at the base of a dune, the Empty Quarter

…the sand is soft and it is easy for spinning wheels to dig themselves in. We discovered just how soft it was when we set off on foot up the nearest dune.

One step up, three quarters of a step down, climbing a dune in the Empty Quarter

Our car was equipped with a winch – as should any vehicle that ventures out here - but in the absence of other vehicles there is nothing to attach the winch to. We had to respect R’s decision; this is no place to be stuck on your own.

Climbing up through the soft sand was difficult, every upward step included a downward slide so after four paces your lower foot had arrived where your upper foot had started at pace one, a little like running up a down escalator. In the Gobi we had worn thermal boots as protection from the heat of the sand but here climbing in bare feet was comfortable enough.

I don't care about the top, I'm willing to settle for this little plateau

Finally, reaching a plateau, it was time for a panoramic photo.

Apart from our car, the Empty Quarter looks pretty empty

The Empty Quarter really is empty, but once you have seen that, you must either cross it – a challenging journey even today – or turn round and go home.

Back to Salalah

Black Camels

Somewhere near Shisr, we found some black camels among a small group of ‘normal’ camels milling aimlessly around. There is nothing special about black camels; as with sheep a recessive gene sometimes manifests itself in producing a black coat, but we had never seen one before.

Black camel, near Shisr

Lunch in Thumrait

Back at Thumrait we stopped at the Thumrait Palace – an Indian restaurant, not an actual palace – for a belated lunch. A minibus-full of German tourists contented themselves with the buffet while we ordered chicken biryani, salad, vegetable curry and chapatis.

Indian 'guest workers' made up the majority of the customers. Throughout Oman, Omani citizens make up only 55% of the population. 45% are expatriates (62% in the Muscat Governorate) and we had encountered a substantial number of Filipinos and Indians, though many other nationalities are represented.

A Frankincense Orchard

Nearing Salalah we dropped into a frankincense orchard (or is it ‘grove’) though the trees are far more widely spaced than in any type of orchard in less arid countries.

Frankincense 'orchard' on the way back to Salalah

Despite their resistance to the climate they still need irrigation.

Lynne and a frankincense tree, with hoses for irrigation

Frankincense is harvested by slashing the bark, causing resin to bleed out and harden in the sunshine. Trees start producing at 8 to 10 years and are tapped two or three times a year, the final tap producing the most aromatic frankincense. The seeds of heavily tapped trees are reluctant to germinate and current over production is leading to a decline in the ‘wild’ population.

Salalah Museum

The Salalah museum our itinerary had down for our first day in the south had now reopened after the holiday - better late than never.

A frankincense tree dominates the main courtyard, and much of one room is devoted to the frankincense industry.

Salalah museum

Another room covered fishing and sea-faring generally, with models and full sized mock ups of local boats, while a third showed finds from archaeological excavations, including from Sumharam. The information was well-organised and well-presented and the museum gave a fine overview of southern Oman – which would have been even better if we had seen it at the start!

Finds from Sumharam, Salalah museum

Going Home

Then R took us to the airport. Our original plan had been to stay another night in Salalah, and take a morning flight to Muscat to connect with the Manchester flight. By the time we had sorted the details of this trip the only flight early enough for our connection was the only one fully booked.

We spent longer than we would have liked in Salalah airport, including time sitting on the plane while engineers fixed a problem – never a welcome experience. The flight, once it took off was uneventful, but the delay meant we reached our Muscat hotel too late for dinner - never mind, we had enjoyed a good lunch.

Next morning we went home.

And Finally (as promised)…

The Story of Shisr (or Ubar, or Iram of the Pillars or Omanum Eporium)

According to some Islamic beliefs, King Shaddad of  ‘Ad (or Ubar or Iram) defied the warnings of the prophet Hud, so Allah smote the city, driving it into the sands, never to be seen again. The ruins allegedly lie somewhere beneath the sands of The Empty Quarter. The story "The City of Many-Columned Iram and Abdullah Son of Abi Kilabah" in One Thousand and One Nights introduced Iram/Ubar to the west.

In 1930 the British explorer Bertram Thomas, the first European to cross the Empty Quarter, heard tales of a lost city and learned of the location of a track somewhere in the region of Shisr which led to the legendary city of Ubar. He contacted T. E. Lawrence, always an enthusiast of the lost city theory, who suggested exploration by airship. Thomas was never able to return to Arabia.

For a long time Shisr was known merely as a ‘difficult well’, a place where to it took all day to water a herd of camels. Wilfred Thesiger visited in 1946 at the start of his first crossing of the Empty Quarter.

“We watered at Shisur (sic), where the ruins of a crude stone fort…mark the position of the famous well, the only permanent water in the central steppes….At the bottom of the large cave…was a trickle of water in a deep fissure…When we arrived…the water was buried under drifted sand and had to be dug out.” Wilfred Thesiger, Arabian Sands, Penguin

Thesiger made no suggestion as to the age of the fort. I have read that he found some early Islamic pot shards there, but I can find no mention of this in Arabian Sands.

In 1948 a geological party from Petroleum Development (Oman and Dhofar) Ltd carried out a survey of south western Oman. They were unimpressed by Shisr noting “there are no houses, tents or people here: only the tumble-down ruin of this pre-Islamic fort.”

The 1948 survey did not have the benefit of satellite pictures, but amateur archaeologist Nicholas Clapp did and they brought him to Shisr in 1992. His excavation concluded that he had indeed found Ubar/Iram of the Pillars. Sir Ranulph Fiennes was a member of the expedition and in his book Atlantis of the Sands claimed they had discovered the site of Omanum Emporium known only from Ptolemy's 2nd century map of Arabia.

I have no expert knowledge, but in support of Clapp’s or Fiennes’ theory there is definitely something there and the Empty Quarter has been a desert of arid dunes for 7,000 years so no city worthy of the name could have existed for several hundred miles to the north.

On the other hand, the mention in the Qur’an is fleeting. Surah 89, The Dawn deals with the ‘law of opposites, light and darkness, rise and fall, as in nature, so in the lives of men and nations,’ and does so in terms which are opaque, at least to this uninitiated reader. Verses 6 to 13 (of 30) read

Have you not seen what your Lord did to the ‘Ad
Of Iram with lofty pillars erected as signs in the desert,
The like of whom were never created in the realm;
And with Thamud who carved rocks in the valley;
And the mighty Pharoah
Who terrorised the region,
And multiplied corruption.
So your Lord poured a scourge of punishment over them.

Juris Zarins of Missouri State University, who is a professional archaeologist said in a 1996 interview "There's a lot of confusion about that word [Ubar]. If you look at the classical texts and the Arab historical sources, Ubar refers to a region and a group of people, not to a specific town. …it was only the late medieval version of One Thousand and One Nights…that romanticised Ubar and turned it into a city, rather than a region or a people."

A fort, though, undoubtedly existed at Shisr. As Wilfred Thesiger tells, the tribes who lived around the fringes of the Empty Quarter were notorious for camel raiding and blood feuds. They largely met (and fought) at wells. Maybe at some time in the past an ambitious ruler built a fort to ensure peace at the waterhole.

When it comes to ‘lost cities’ my instinct is towards scepticism.

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Thursday, 22 November 2018

Oman (9): The City of Salalah

Again we breakfasted alone, the same smiling Indian youth quickly rustling up masala omelettes, vegetable curry, puris, tea, fruit juice, fruit, cake and halva! Whether he could cope if we objected to an Indian breakfast remained undiscovered.

Afterwards, we walked through the polished but deserted corridors to meet R, who went out of his way to avoid shaking hands with Lynne until he had shaken hands with me. He then explained (to me) how important it was to shake the man’s hand first. Lynne was unimpressed.

The Salalah Clock Tower (Burj al Nahda)

The clocktower (Burj al Nahda) stands right outside the hotel. In this low-rise city it is a major landmark, even appearing on the local coat of arms and is obviously modern, though I am unsure how modern. 1985 can be seen on the tower and that may well be the date of construction though it looks newer.

Burj al Nadha - the Salalah clock tower (and the time is correct)

The Sultan Qaboos Mosque

The Sultan Qaboos Mosque was across the city centre from our hotel, and we were there in minutes.

A week ago we visited the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque in Muscat, perhaps the most beautiful modern building I have ever seen. But the sultan was born in Salalah, so once he had completed his mosque in the capital, he set about building another here. It opened in 2009, its minarets and 36m-high dome do not quite dominate the city centre, but in low-rise Salalah, they come close.

As in Muscat the mosque is open to non-believers from 8 to 11, and involves acres of highly polished marble. There was a steady stream of foreign visitors and thousands of worshippers will come to pray later; an unseen army of polishers, sweepers and dusters must exist to maintain the building's immaculate condition.

Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Salalah
Modest dress is expected and women should cover their hair.

Ouside the Prayer Hall, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Salalah
Inside the prayer hall the huge carpet weighs 20 tonnes and has 115 million individual knots.
Prayer Hall, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Salalah
Visitors were required to walk on the blue carpet, though it allowed a good view of the mihrab…
Mihrab, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Salalah
…and of the crystal chandelier hanging from the intricately carved dome. Even if it does not quite have the wow factor of the Muscat chandelier, it is still remarkable. The perfect proportions and the Omani preference for muted colours make the hall light and refreshingly calm.

Chandalier, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Salalah
We encountered a German woman and then a small party of Russians who were not as appropriately dressed as Lynne. They were not challenged, although R had a good ‘tut’. Lynne was as annoyed at them as she had been at R earlier over the handshake. Travelling in Islamic countries requires more negotiation across a cultural divide than other places we visit - and this applies more in the relatively remote and conservative south than in cosmopolitan Muscat. Lynne was adamant that R, with his avoidance of her first hand shake, and the under-dressed tourists were in the wrong. Instinctively I agree, but I cannot understand why we both feel that in the first case western etiquette should have applied and in the second Arab.

Sultan Qaboos and the Al Hosn Palace

We continued to Sultan Qaboos’ al Hosn Palace via a rather ordinary set of traffic lights.

The site of the old town wall, Salalah
The lights stand on the line of the old city wall, demolished after Sultan Qaboos deposed his father, Sultan Said, in 1970. For touristic reasons Salalah might regret losing its wall, but few regret the passing of the old tyrant. A man of extreme and idiosyncratic conservative views – wearing sunglasses was forbidden and those venturing out after dark had to carry a lantern – he had no idea what to do with the oil wealth that was starting to hit the country.

The Sultan’s palace is not far away. Qaboos was born in Salalah in 1940 and educated here to the age of 16 when he was sent to England, Muscat and Oman having been a British Protectorate since 1892. He entered the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst, graduated in 1962 and joined the British Army. After military service he studied local government and took a world tour before returning to Oman in 1966, where his father, like any wise 18th century ruler, put him under house arrest.

The entrance to Al Hosn Palace, Salalah
We were permitted to drive up to the door without encountering officious security guards
But this was the 1960s not the 1760s and with the encouragement of friends and support, indeed active involvement, of the British he staged a bloodless coup in 1970 and has been Sultan ever since. He took over a country which had 6km of paved roads and where slavery was still legally tolerated. He outlawed slavery immediately, parted company with the British on good terms and took Oman on a long journey from subsistence farming to stability and affluence - as in Muscat there is little in Salalah that predates 1970. He is personally wealthy but the two huge ‘yachts’ aside not outrageously extravagant and has used the oil money for the benefit of ordinary Omanis.

Private mosque inside the Sultan's Palace, Salalah
He has done much good and appears to be genuinely popular, but despite his apparent liberality he is an absolute monarch and permits no opposition. As the ‘Arab Spring’ rattled the region there were some small demonstrations. These were quickly suppressed and the closely controlled press gave no clue whether the protests were anti-Qaboos or concerned with a particular issue. More worryingly the Sultan will be 80 next year and is in poor health. His short marriage (1976-9) produced no heir, so when he dies the royal family will meet to choose a successor. If they cannot agree they will consult a document he has left expressing his wishes. Given Oman’s oil wealth the process could be an invitation for the ruthless and greedy to grab power, or two ruthless and greedy claimants to start a civil war. I hope to be entirely wrong about that.

The Al Hosn Frankincense Souk

The Al Hosn (sometimes Al Haffa) Souk is close by. It specialises in frankincense, by far Oman’s most important export in the centuries before gas and oil.

Al Hosn Souk, Salalah
Frankincense is the dried sap of several species of boswellia trees, most notably boswellia sacra. The trees grow in Oman and Yemen, and also across the Gulf of Aden in Somalia, thriving on the hot, stony slopes where the coastal plain rises to the desert plateau. Most of the world’s frankincense comes from the coastal strip either side of Salalah, though there is some production in the self-declared Republic of Somaliland (largely peaceful and with a functioning democracy, Somaliland separated itself from the failed state of Somalia in 1991).

Frankincense trees either side of a plank, near Salalah
The essential oils are used in perfumery and skin-care, while the resin can be burnt as incense (‘Frankincense’ derives from Old French for ‘high-quality incense’). You cannot go far in Oman without encountering the heady aroma of burning frankincense.

Inside a shop, Al Hosn souk, Salalah
Traditionally Omanis placed their clothes on a wooden frame over a frankincense burner to ensure they smelled sweet. An obvious fire hazard, this is no longer a common practice, though the frames can still be seen in souks - and there are more informal ways of creating the same effect.

Well at least I'll smell nice
Frankincense was once big business – it was even an appropriate gift for the Son of God, though like myrrh (and unlike gold) its star has waned. Perhaps our need for sweet smells has lessened as life has become cleaner.

We made our purchases and retired to a juice bar. Freshly pressed mango is extraordinarily refreshing on a hot day.

R and Lynne with freshly squeezed juice, Al Hosn Souk, Salalah

A Free Afternoon in Salalah

The museum we failed to visit yesterday was still closed for the holiday so that completed the sights of Salalah, or all those R thought worth showing us. We returned to our empty hotel, and shortly made our way out for lunch, walking past the ‘Prestige’ from last night and down to the main restaurant area.

To prove the point Y made in Sur about Europeans sitting outside while Omanis have the sense to be inside in the air-conditioning, we seated ourselves on the terrace outside a Turkish restaurant. Although it was well shaded and the temperature barely 30º we had the terrace to ourselves, while the interior was packed.

After perusing the menu…

Turkish restaurant menu, Salalah
1 Omani Rial = £2 and is divided into 1,000 baisa
…we opted for the mixed sea food. Salad, bread, hummus, chips, olives and tomatoes turned up at no extra cost (well, we might have paid for the portion of chips).

Mixed sea food, and more, Turkish restaurant, Salalah
The grilled prawns, strips of squid and steak cut across a meaty fish, possibly a small shark, were very good.

A little shopping was necessary as we were leaving the next day. After discovering all the baby clothes that might suit our infant grand-daughter were imported from India or China (hardly a surprise) we dropped into the Lulu Supermarket – large and well-stocked there is one (or more) Lulu every town.

Lulu supermarket, Salalah

When it was a little cooler, we walked south towards the coast. Cities in Oman struggle to be entirely urban and our route passed plantations of bananas, mangoes and coconuts.

Banana plantation, Salalah

We were headed for a road that runs parallel to the coast where we had seen fruit stalls selling tender coconuts – a drink of coconut seemed an attractive idea on a hot afternoon. We reached the road in the middle of a long stretch devoid of stalls of any sort. Disappointed, we trudged back into town, stopping for a coffee on the way. Small cups of strong, black, sweet, cardamom flavoured Omani coffee are available everywhere and if not quite as refreshing as a coconut, they keep you alert.


We walked out again in the evening, past the Rehab Palace (residences, apartments and suites) which looks a little odd in English…

Rehab Palace, Salalah
…and the mosque and tomb of the Prophet Imran (or Nabi Umran). Some believe he was a local prophet, others that he was the father of Mary the mother of Jesus, or even the father of Moses. The first of those stands some chance, but whoever he was, what does he need with a tomb 33m long?

The mosque and tomb of Nabi Umran, Salalah

We found a Lebanese restaurant that we thought would provide a light snack, though we were badly mistaken. A small kebab order magnified itself as bread, pickled carrot and cauliflower, hummus and tabbouleh turned up as well. There are two things I know about tabbouleh: 1) it is traditionally made with bulgur wheat and 2) every Lebanese grandmother had the perfect recipe and every Lebanese adult regrets that they will never taste one as good again. As I lack Lebanese grandparents, and do not usually have bulgur wheat in the cupboard I use cous cous – and so do all the restaurants where I have previously encountered it, though none of them claimed to be Lebanese. What I learned now was that in ‘real’ tabbouleh, the grain plays a minor part; we were brought a plate of mixed herbs with a sprinkling of bulgur wheat. For us, it was not quite right in flavour and entirely wrong in texture – and for that remark I could be banned from Lebanon.

Burj al Nahda, the Salalah Clocktower
I started this post with a picture of the clocktower, so I have finished it with the structure at night, lit up in Oman’s national colours.

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Wednesday, 21 November 2018

Oman (8): Salalah and the South Coast

A delayed flight from Muscat meant we did not reach our hotel until after midnight. Although Salalah is Oman’s second city and the capital of the south, our drive from the airport suggested it was quiet, dark and low-rise. Around 100km from the Yemeni border, Salalah has a population of 300,000 most of whom appeared to be asleep.

Salalah, Capital of the south
In the morning we found the restaurant empty and no buffet laid out. We were wondering if we were in the wrong place when a young man appeared and asked what we would like for breakfast. ‘Puris and dahl?’ he suggested when we hesitated. We said that would be fine and he looked delighted. Clearly an Indian ‘guest worker’, perhaps he was pleased by us choosing an Indian breakfast, or maybe that was what the chef had already made. He quickly rustled up fruit, puris, dahl, boiled eggs, cake, juice and tea.

Taqah

We saw no one else in the restaurant or on our walk to the lobby where R, our driver and guide for our time in Salalah introduced himself. We wasted no time in setting off for Taqah, a small coastal town some 30km east of Salalah.

R drove us up a hill behind the town for an overview.

Taqah
Salalah and Taqah were different from the northern towns we had seen, where every dwelling had its own extensive compound. Here, lacking compounds the buildings clustered together rather than expand haphazardly into the desert. As in the north there were many new buildings, and plenty of old buildings in a state of dilapidation.

Dilapidated buildings, central Taqah

Our reason for visiting Taqah was to see its small, but perfectly formed fort. The real reason we were looking down at it from the hill was that we were waiting for the bus tour to go away.

Taqah Fort
Eventually they went. The fort is too small to share with a busload, not that it is really a fort, even less a castle as it claims over the door. It was built in the 19th century as the private residence of tribal leader, Sheikh Ali bin Taman al-Mashani. Who he? He was the grandfather of Mazoon al-Mashani, and she was the mother of the current ruler, Sultan Qaboos, no less. She is buried in a nearby graveyard.

Inside Taqah Fort
The residence became the property of government in the 1920s during the time of Sultan Qaboos’ father and the walls and towers were only added in the 1960s.

Inside Taqah Fort
It is now a small museum, which means it has more contents than most real forts…

Inside Taqah Fort
…and the shrub Lynne is inspecting in the courtyard is a frankincense tree - I will discuss frankincense at greater length later.

Lynne inspects the frankincense tree, Taqah Fort

Wadi Darbat

The Salalah region is the only part of Oman far enough south to catch the edge of the south-west monsoon.  The rainfall is small by monsoon standards but July and August, ‘the summer’ in most of the northern hemisphere, is locally called khareef (autumn). They are the coolest months of the year and the days are filled with mist and drizzle; for a while the land turns green and enough rain falls in the mountains for streams to flow throughout the year.

Living in a shrivellingly arid country, Omanis find fresh, flowing water irresistibly attractive and R drove us north from Taqah towards the mountains where Wadi Darbat descends to the coastal plain in a sizeable waterfall we were frustratingly never quite in the right position to photograph. The road climbed into the hills, reaching the Wadi at a scenic riverside reserve, unsurprisingly a prime picnic and barbeque site for locals.

A gentle cascade on Wadi Darbat
The stream continues to the edge of the hills,...

Wadi Darbat heads towards the drop to the coastal plain
….drops to the plain and makes its way to the sea near Khor Rori (spellings vary) via a silted up lagoon, once southern Arabia’s most important harbour.
Khor Rori
Sumharam and Khor Rori

 The road down to the plain was infested by camels, which is not unusual in this area.

The camel-infested road down to Sumharam
There are those round here who love their camels like cowboys loved their horses, but the look on this fellow’s face suggests he has enough self-love not to need anyone else.

Am I not beautiful? 
The city of Sumharam on the edge of the inlet was established in the 1st century BCE as an eastern outpost of the Kingdom of Hadhramaut, which ruled what is now eastern Yemen and south western Oman. The Salalah region produced most of the world’s frankincense and by developing Sumharam next to a large natural harbour the Hadhramites hoped to control the trade in this expensive and much sought-after commodity.

The zig-zag entrance to Sumharam
The city thrived for several centuries, but eventually declined, was deserted and buried by the sands. It was rediscovered in the 1890s by British explorer and archaeologist James Theodore Bent. American excavations in the 1950s and those of the Italian Mission to Oman more recently have established the ground plan of the settlement and found evidence for contacts with the Ḥaḑramite homeland to the west, India and the Mediterranean.

Among the old stones, Sumharam
We learned this from the film in the visitor centre [and two days later saw some artefacts in the Salalah museum.]
Recently recovered artefacts from Sumharam in the Salalah museum. Maybe age makes them look rough-hewn, but the carving of the ibex is sophisticated. It is dated 'iron-age'.

 After the film we had a wander.

Rebuilding parts of Sumharam
…and a look at the lagoon, but despite Sumharam being part of the "Land of Frankincense" UNESCO World Heritage Site there is not a great deal to see.

The former harbour at Sumharam
One of the larger buildings became known early on as The Queen of Sheba’s palace - every archaeological site in and around Yemen has been associated with her at some time or another. The Queen of Sheba is a problematic figure, but if she did exist, she would have met the equally problematic King Solomon several centuries before Sumharam was founded.

Defences above the harbour, Sumharam

Mirbat

Mirbat, 40km east of Taqah, is the next settlement along the coast.

The Tomb of Mohammed Bin Ali


On the edge of the town we stopped at a tiny mosque built over the grave of Mohammed Bin Ali. Y told us the saint, a descendant of the Prophet, had brought Islam to the area. Other sources say he died in 1160 CE, when Islam was already well-established, and had founded a madrassa. His memory is respected, even if there is some confusion over what he is remembered for. His tomb, with the usual embroidered green covering, largely fills the mosque. No photographs were allowed inside, so here is one of Lynne outside.

The tomb of Mohammed Bin Ali, Mirbat
Churches and graveyards almost always go together; this is rarely the case with mosques but here we have an exception. Muslim tradition does not favour elaborate headstones, but simple stones have been laid in abundance, three marking the grave of a woman, two a man. In Muslim burials the body is placed on its side with the face pointing towards Mecca but many of the older graves here are on a different alignment, suggesting they are pre-Islamic and well over a thousand years old.

Graveyard by the tomb of Mohammed Bin Ali, Mirbat

Mirbat, Dhow Repairs and Fishing


Between the tomb and the town, Mirbat’s beach is used for servicing and repairing dhows. As we learned at Sur, the days of the heavy wooden dhows are numbered, but the newer fibre glass boats are still built to the traditional design.

Dhows on the beach at Mirbat
 Like Khor Rori, Mirbat was once a major frankincense exporting port but here the harbour still functions and was busy with fishing boats of various sizes.

Fishing boats in Mirbat harbour
We watched a group of fishermen sorting out their catch…

Sorting out the catch, Mirbat harbour
… and a ‘fisherbird’ waiting its opportunity.

Heron on a fishing boat, Mirbat harbour

Central Mirbat


Like most Omani towns the old centre is falling down…

Old centre of Mirbat
…and once treasured windows look sightlessly onto an abandoned square.

Old Mirbat
But this is a sign of wealth, not poverty. On the edge of the decaying area is a shiny new mosque…

New mosque on the edge of the old town of Mirbat
…while one street away the modern centre is clean and propserous.

Mirbat's modern centre

The Tomb of Job

We drove back to Salalah where R chose an Indian Restaurant for lunch. The chicken and vegetable curries were all right if uninspired, the beef dish was Chinese. On its own it would have been fine, but the combination was weird. Gulab Jamun for dessert provided some redemption.

Leaving the coast, we set off north. At Beit Zarbij, on the edge of the desert plateau 27km from Salalah, is the tomb of the prophet Job.

Outside the Tomb of Job, Beit Zarbij
A sign outside tells us the grave is 4m long, but who was this chap who required such an extravagantly sized plot?

The Tomb of the Propher Job
Job, the Islamic Prophet and the eponymous hero of the Old Testament book are one and the same, the Bible and Quran stories of his obedience to God being tested through many trials are very similar. The Job mentioned in Genesis (Ch46v13) as the son of Issachar and grandson of Jacob (aka Israel) is generally agreed to be someone else. Helpfully a genealogy of the prophets hangs on the tomb wall so we can see that Job is a descendant of Esau, the son of Isaac and grandson of Abraham.

Genealogy of the Prophets, Tomb of Job
Some Muslims and Christians love to take all this literally, and the lack of mention of Hebrew law persuades some Christians that he lived, maybe 500 years before Moses, which would be 600 years after the Flood. I am no Biblical scholar, and know less of the Quran, but some who study these things suggests the Book of Job was an allegory written for teaching purposes and there never was a historical Job. That must be wrong as we were standing by his grave – and he has other graves at Haroun in Syria, Urfa in southeast Turkey and in the El-Chouf mountains of Lebanon, so that proves it!

Mughsayl Beach

We returned to the city and headed out to the west, past the busy, container docks and out to Mughsayl Beach some 10km from the city.

The long sandy beach was empty…

Mughsayl Beach
…but the man in the camel meat stall obviously expected custom, perhaps later when the heat had subsided. We tried some cubes of meat; as we found in Birkat Al-Mawz, camel is tender, pleasant but not strongly flavoured.


Camel meat stall, Mughsayl Beach
The blowholes, the main attraction of the beach required us to follow a walkway across the low but rugged cliffs.

Across the cliffs to the blowholes, Mughsayl
Before we set off R told us something important. The blowholes at the end of the walkway, which launch water so spectacularly into the air, only do so at high tide. Currently, the tide was out. I thought R should have checked this before we set out and arranged our visits in a different order, but it was too late now. On the plus side, Lynne could peer down the gratings over the blowholes with no danger of getting a face-full of high-pressure briny.

Lynne peers safely down one of the blowholes, Mughsayl

Dinner in Salalah

Once we had watched the blowholes not blowing, we returned to Salalah. Later we set out in search of a light dinner. Walking towards the street with most of the city’s restaurants we passed the ‘Prestige Restaurant’ and deciding we needed prestige as much as food we dropped in.

Sharing a big fish seemed a good idea, but although the menu was long, much of it was aspirational rather than on offer. Kingfish, our first choice, was off, so we enquired of the friendly waiter how large a sheree fish might be – we would not want to share a sardine. We were reassured it would be fine, and indeed it was.

So that's what a sheree fish is, Salalah
I have no idea what a sheree fish is – google has never heard of it, though I did find an obituary for someone of that name. On the plate – and in the picture above – it looks like a turbot, but they prefer cooler waters. Perhaps it has relatives.
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