An Unusual Linear Capital Interrupted by Rocky Hills
Arriving in Muscat
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| Oman |
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| Oman is bigger than you think and covers the eastern half of the bottom of the Arabian Peninsula |
Formalities were straightforward and we quickly found the young man sent to convey us to our hotel.
The airport is in Seeb, within the Muscat Metropolitan Area, but 30km from the centre. We travelled along a series of urban expressways, the traffic flowing freely. Driving was relatively disciplined and considerate, and most remarkably, no one used their horn. Anyone who has set ear on Cairo, Tehran or the cities of India will appreciate how bizarre this is.
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| Urban expressway, Muscat |
Muscat is long and thin, squeezed between the sea and a line of low rocky hills. Sometimes the hills veer towards the coast and the city flows round them – or just come to a temporary halt. It hardly feels like a city at all*; there is no centre as such, just clumps of gleaming white low-rise buildings. We saw residential clumps, an administrative area, undeveloped areas, mosques, a shopping mall, the opera house, a clump of hotels, and another of chain restaurants – Costa Coffee, KFC, MacD, Subway, Nandos, Wagamama but nothing that looked Omani. Nowhere did we see a regular street, the sort you could walk down to look at the shops or compare the restaurants.
We reached our hotel, checked in, had breakfast and went to bed. Resurfacing around midday I had no idea where we were; our room - the bland functional space of mid-range hotels everywhere - gave no clue at all. The view from the window, though, was definitive.
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| Islamic centre and rocky hills from our hotel window, Muscat |
The Sultan’s Yachts and Muttrah Souk
At 2 o'clock, showered and feeling almost human, we met Y in the lobby for a city tour.
You are never far from the sea in Muscat and we had hardly belted ourselves into Y’s huge, land cruiser than we were alighting at what was once the city's main port. It now provides mooring for two vessels I at first took to be cruise liners. 'The one in front is the Sultan's yacht,' Y told us. 'And the one behind?' 'Is his other yacht. It has his Ferrari and other toys on board should he want to play with them.' We were not supposed to take this entirely seriously.
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| The Sultan's yachts, Muscat |
As we crossed the road to the Muttrah Souk Y apologised for taking us there at siesta time. The fragrant, heady scent of frankincense hung over the alleys, though few stalls were open. Not long ago this was a market for the people of Muscat, then one stall started aiming at the tourist market, then another and now it is almost all t-shirts and fridge magnets.
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| Muttrah Souk, Muscat |
‘Old’ Muscat
Nearby is ‘Old’ Muscat, the settlement that donated its name to this vast straggle of not quite contiguous settlements, business districts and administrative areas. Almost nothing in Muscat, Y reminded us, is more than 45 years old (except for some of the residents) and that includes 'Old’ Muscat. Formerly an area of dilapidated dwellings, it has been demolished section by section and the slum-dwellers rehoused at the government’s expense. Like many Muscat houses they suggest that an Omani's home is, almost literally, his castle.
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| New dwellings in Old Muscat |
In 1970 Sultan Qaboos dethroned his dad, a repressive old-school conservative who had kept the purse strings tightly drawn. Qaboos was and is far more liberal – insofar as an absolute monarch can be – swiftly abolishing slavery and using the country's oil wealth for the benefit of the people, as these houses testify. Y seemed genuinely impressed by his efforts and prepared to forgive the extravagance of two enormous yachts. With his 78th birthday (and Oman’s 48th National Day) next Sunday, the Sultan’s face was ubiquitous; with his toothy grin and white beard he smiled down from every available wall, like a better-groomed Richard Branson.
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| The Sultan grins down from a supermarket wall. At night the facade is lit up in the green, white and red national colours |
Bait Al Zubair Museum, Old Muscat
The Bait Al Zubair museum in Old Muscat is a privately-owned collection of Omani artefacts and clothing with a stringent no photographing policy.
Much gold ornamentation for women was on show. Men wear silver, but the huge clunky bracelets looked impracticably heavy until Y pointed out they were hollow.
In days gone by every man wore a dagger and carried his rifle strapped to his back. Most families still keep a rifle at home though only, Y claimed, for target shooting. The curved Omani Khanjar - the knife is not as curly as the sheath - is deeply embedded in the culture, even appearing on the national flag.
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| Omani flag with Khanjar and crossed swords in the top left corner |
The khanjar is still worn on formal occasions - we later encountered a group of elderly men arriving for a National Day dinner at our hotel in Nizwa, all wearing Khanjars. Their Khanjars, like those in the museum seemed more decorative than functional, the sheathes encased in beaten silver.
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| Y in his dishdash |
There was also a display of clothing. Y may have called Sultan Qaboos 'liberal', but wearing a white dishdash is compulsory for government employees during working hours and students in class or lectures. It is also worn voluntarily by many others; we never saw Y in anything but a gleaming white, freshly laundered, crisply ironed dishdash. The design is simple and there is minimal decoration (if any) except for a 15cm tassel hanging from the collar beneath the right ear. The museum’s collection included assorted regional variations like the Emirati dishdash which has a much longer tassel centrally placed. You may wear any colour hat, Y added, pointing to his cylindrical headgear, but the designs are always similar and the colours muted.
The women's clothing on display was brightly coloured and voluminous, though we found many women actually wear black. There was also a collection of veils and masks - no longer worn according to Y, though we would see several veiled women and one in a mask, but she was running a tourist tat stall and I suspect it was her USP. Throughout the trip we saw far fewer women than men, but Y was keen to point out that educational opportunities were the same for boys and girls at every level.
Across the yard was a preserved mudbrick house. The rooms were simple and the furnishings minimal but the most interesting room was the date store. Fresh dates are available for six months of the year, after that the surplus is stored for the ‘winter’; in the past it was sometimes the only food available. Stored in sacks on a specially channelled floor the dates ooze syrup (Y called it ‘date honey’) which is collected by the channels. It is immensely sweet, deeply date-y and utterly lovely.
We drank excellent Omani coffee and nibbled dates at a table outside. Omani coffee is made like Turkish coffee but filtered into a coffee pot onto cardamom, saffron and/or rose water and drunk unsweetened in tiny cups.
Al Alam Palace, Old Muscat
The Al Alam Palace is a couple of hundred metres away. As new as the rest of 'Old' Muscat, it was constructed in 1972 on the site of an older palace. The square outside was almost empty and there was little obvious security. The King does not live here – he has a palace in his walled farm north of the city – but uses it for entertaining visiting dignitaries. It has hosted King Juan Carlos of Spain and Queen Beatrix of the Netherlands, but stands empty most of the time.
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| The entrance to Al Alam Palace, Muscat |
The other side of the palace is by a harbour overlooked by two 16th century Portuguese forts.
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| The Al Alam Palace and the Portuguese Al Jalali Fort - Muscat's jail until 1970 |
Muscat Sunset Cruise
Y was concerned that we would be late for our 'sunset cruise' – which seemed odd at twenty to four - and whizzed us the short distance south to the harbour in Sidab. Here the hills approach the coast and the main part of the city is on the landward side. Sidab, crammed between the sea and the bare hills resembles a small seaside community rather than a suburb of a major city. Y's family live here, but there is no room for expansion so he and many of his generation have moved away.
We joined half a dozen other Europeans on a boat large enough for twenty and made our way out of the harbour past a moored dhow.
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| Dhow, Sidab Marina |
The open sea was choppy and the boat bounced around as we turned South along the coast.
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| Outside Sidab harbour |
We pottered along looking at the rock formations...
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| Heading south along the Muscat coast |
.... and pulling into coves, some occupied by fishing villages...
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| Fishing village (within the Muscat Metropolitan area) |
…while other were accessible only from the sea. In one is a graveyard, the last resting place of European sailors who died along this coast
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| Portuguese graveyard, Muscat coast |
Resort hotels dominated some coves. The most spectacular on a promontory, its glass fronted guest accommodation connected by a lift to an almost sea level dining area. Further out was a hole in the rocks…
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| Resort Hotel, Muscat coast |
….which we approached…
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| Approaching that hole in the rocks |
….and slid through.
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| And coming out the other side |
Oman became wealthy from gas and oil, but they are backing tourism as the next big earner and these coves are being made available to developers on advantageous terms. This coast could become like Sharm El Sheik, lined with all-inclusive resorts so people can holiday in Oman without ever visiting Oman. This cannot be the right way to go.
After a pleasant hour we turned and headed back. Our youthful captain opened up the throttle and the powerful outboard drove us through the choppy water at speed - and with some discomfort. We slowed after passing our starting point and at 5 o’clock we were in station to watch the sun set behind the coastal hills.
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| The sun thinking about setting |
It slipped away surprisingly quickly. 'Bye, bye, see you tomorrow,' said our captain as the last rays flickered and he turned back South.
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| Bye, bye, see you tomorrow (Muscat 5.11pm) |
The Sultan's Visiting Book, Al Alam Palace from the Sea
On the way back we dropped in to see Al Alam palace from the sea...
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| Al Alam Palace from the sea, Muscat |
… the names of several hundred ships are painted on the rock beside the Jalali Fort. This semi-official graffiti is known as the Sultan’s Visiting Book and the names of British, Dutch, American and other ships have been painted since the practice started in the 19th century. The HMS Falmouth, prominent in the photograph below was the 9th ship of that name which visited in 1974, though the 8th HMS Falmouth was in the region 1940-1 escorting troop convoys from Karachi to Basra. (For more information see Lilian and Jan Schruers blog)
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| The Sultan's Visiting Book, Muscat |
We returned to our berth as the brief twilight period faded
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| The light goes quickly once it starts to fade (Muscat 5.48pm) |
Back at our hotel the restaurant offered only a buffet, but we found the 'Sportsman's Bar' (it had a pool table!) where we ordered a chicken biryani each (they were good but one between two would have been fine) washed down with a beer. Draft beers were over £7 for a 'full pint' but 500ml cans of Carlsberg were available for a less extortionate £4 - so we had one each. Getting a drink in Oman is difficult and expensive (it is not what my father would have called a ‘drinking man's country'). Hurrah for duty free, we thought, but this issue will need addressing if they are to create a successful Sharm El Sheik style coast.
15-Nov-2018
The Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, Muscat
Before setting off towards Sur we visited the Sultan Qaboos mosque, probably Muscat's finest buildings, but open to infidels only before 11 in the morning, so we missed it yesterday.
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| The Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, Muscat It was crowded as there was a cruise ship in. The man in the white dishdash (centre) holding up a paddle with the number 11 is attempting to collect his bus load of cruisers |
Designed by (often British based) Iraqi architect Mohammed Saleh Makiya, the mosque was built between 1994 and 2001 and was funded from the Sultan 's personal wealth - though a sceptic might ask where that wealth came from. The completed building was given to the nation, so at least the poor bloke doesn't have to pay for the upkeep, too. And that expense must be considerable; the building is immaculate as are the many surrounding gardens.
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| The garden by one of the minor minarets |
With a huge dome, four minor and one major minaret, the mosque is far too big to photograph in its entirety, so here is a picture of a model we saw in the museum in Salalah.
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| The Qaboos Grand Mosque, Muscat (model in Salalah museum) |
With our shoes removed and Lynne's head appropriately covered…
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| Lynne, properly dressed |
…we entered the women's prayer hall. The main musalla can accommodate 6,500 male worshippers, there is space in the courtyards to push the total capacity to 20,000. The woman’s musalla has space for 750 and women can watch the proceedings in the main hall on one of the two television screens. Women should, of course, pray at home and only visit a mosque when travelling with their husbands. After decades of hard work, The Church of England’s treatment of women has arrived in the 20th, if not quite the 21st century, Roman Catholics are quietly fretting about entering the 19th while Islamic attitudes are marooned in the 16th. I find much to admire in Islam, but not its attitude to half the human race.
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| Women's Prayer Hall, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Muscat |
The courtyard and its arches are of gleaming Carrara marble…
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| Courtyard, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Muscat |
…but the main hall is breath-taking. It is not just that you are walking on what was the world’s biggest carpet (there is now a larger one in Abu Dhabi), nor that you are approaching the world’s biggest chandelier, it is the perfection of proportions, decoration and colour. We entered, looked up, stopped and gasped in unison.
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| Dome and chandelier, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Muscat |
The crowds made it difficult to get near the mihrab…
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| Mihrab, Sultan Qaboos mosque, Muscat |
….but it is worth looking more closely at the decorations.
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| Detail of mihrab, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Muscat |
Squinches are the architectural tricks that allow hemi-spherical domes to sit on rectangular supports. Most mosques have them, many make features of them, but never more so than here.
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| Squinch, Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Muscat |
But overall it is the sense of space that make the mosque feel special. Sadly, as a non-believer I can only imagine what it is like filled with 2,600 worshippers.
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| Sultan Qaboos Mosque, Muscat One of the advantages of modern buildings is that you can hide the loudspeakers inside the columns! |
I may have misgivings about Islam’s sexism, but it undoubtedly produces some of the world’s most beautiful buildings.
And with that thought we left the mosque and set off south to Sur…. see next post
*For those like me who appreciate a story told in numbers: Muscat has a population of 1½ million living at a density of 450 people/km². Typically, cities of a similar size are considerably more densely populated - Yekaterinburg 2,700/km², Phoenix 3,100/km² and nearby Abu Dhabi 1,200/km², while bigger cities are often in the range 10,000 - 20,000.
Part 1: Muscat, an Unusual Capital
Part 2: Sur and Turtles
Part 3: Wadi Bani Khalid and the Wahiba Sands
Part 4: Ibra, Birkat al-Mawz and the Jebel Akhdar
Part 5: Nizwa
Part 6: Bahla, Jabreen, al Hamra and the Jebel Shams
Part 7: Misfat Al Abriyyin, Wadi Bani Awf and Nakhl
Part 8: Salalah and the South Coast
Part 9: Salalah, the City
Part 10: To the Edge of the Empty Quarter
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