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.


Tuesday, 20 November 2018

Oman (7): Misfat Al Abriyyin, Wadi Bani Awf and Nakhl

A Charming Village, 50 km Off-road and a Fort of Ancient Origin

Descent from the Jebel Shams

Oman
Having driven up to almost 3,000m yesterday afternoon, our first task after breakfast was drive back down from the sunlit, but distinctly chilly uplands into the warm embrace of the valley below.

Y followed the same (and only) road which sometimes lacks tarmac…

Descending the Jebel Shams

…even quite low down….

Descending the Jebel Shams

….back to Al Hamra, this time driving through the centre rather than seeking out the restored old houses in the backstreets.

Al Hamra

Our first stop would be at Misfat al Abriyyin, the village that can be seen lining the ridge above Al Hamra in the photo above. After that we would make our way back to Muscat, though not by quite as straight a line as the map suggests and with several stops on the way.

From the Jebel Shams are route back to Muscat was not quite as straight as the line on the map suggests

Misfat al Abriyyin

The houses on the ridge are large, new (or still under construction) and opulent, they were not our reason for visiting Misfat.

New builds on the ridge, Misfat al Abriyyin

It is the cluster of houses beyond the ridge, some well cared for, some crumbling…

The old lanes of Misfat al Abriyyin

…and the large well-irrigated cleft in the rocks that drags in the visitors.

Irrigated area, Misfat al Abriyyin

We wandered the narrow lanes between the buildings…

Misfat al Abriyyin

….and the paths between the palms…

Misfat al Abriyyin

….and the irrigation channels.

Misfat al Abriyyin

Some buildings are particularly impressive.

Some of Misfat al Abriyyin's less likely dwellings

As the National Day holiday extended until the holiday for The Prophet’s Birthday, holiday-making locals were arriving bearing picnic baskets.

Going for a picnic (no women required) Misfat al Abriyyin

Misfat is a lovely place even if the name sounds a bit iffy in English, but there is little to do once you have had a walk round so we moved on.

Wadi Bani Awf

After returning to Al Hamra we turned east, back into the mountains, heading for a pass that would take us to the coastal plain.

We followed a well-made road to the top of the pass at around 2000m where it ran out of tarmac...

The tarmac disappears at the top of the pass

….then stopped to have a look.

We'll have a look once we've posed for a piccie

The 50km off-road route would take us down to and along Wadi Bani Awf until we emerged on the coastal plain at Al Awabi. From the top we could see a large part of the route, including the village of Bilad Sayt which would provide a surprise or two. The journey, which takes a couple of hours, is universally described as the most demanding off-road drive in Oman; four-wheel drive is essential, as is the knowledge of how to use it. Conditions were good, it had been dry for months, but I was happy that we had a driver of Y’s experience at the wheel.

The Wadi Bani Awf route can be traced from the village, bottom left, into the centre of the picture before disappearing behind the montains

From the start the route was challenging...

Starting down to Wadi Bani Awf

...but although some sections dropped sharply others were level.

Down to Wadi Bani Awf

The road would have been impassable after rain, but even under dry conditions the lightest touch on the brakes sent the car sliding over the loose surface. The Toyota Landcruiser, so sure-footed in the Wahiba Sands, was here outmanoeuvred by the mixed flocks of nimble sheep and goats who forage in this arid wasteland.

A mixed flock of sheep and goats find something to eat

The descent was never a white-knuckle ride, Y was too calm and competent for that, but it was an exhilarating drive through remarkable desert scenery.

Near the bottom, we saw water flowing from a cleft in the rocks….

Water running, well trickling, from a cleft in the rocks, Wadi Bani Awf

…and where there is water, there is vegetation and people.

Water in the desert, Wadi Bani Awf

Bilad Sayt, Youthful Enterprise and a Remarkable Football Pitch

Two young lads had set up an impromptu stall selling coffee and dates. Y decided to support the youthful entrepreneurs and spent a few hundred baisa (the Omani rial – worth roughly £2 – is divided into 1,000 baisa) on three coffees. I applauded their spirit, but would have preferred a hotter cup of coffee.

Coffee in the desert, Wadi Bani Awf

A couple of kilometres down the road we passed a football field. I did not believe my eyes, so Y stopped the car….

Y stopped the car and I walked back to have a look

….and I walked back and there, all alone in the desert on a rare patch of flat land really was an astro-turf football pitch. Y offered no explanation nor did he tell us it is called Audi Bilad Sayt Football Field. There is, of course, a reason for its existence and the clue is in the name; it was made by Audi for an advertisement. I do not normally link to adverts, but this 4 minute YouTube film explains all – though I doubt Audi actually ‘cares’ any more than any other major industrial concern.

The Audi Bilad Sayt Football Field

This part of the route runs alongside Snake Canyon a deep, narrow, sinuously twisting canyon that can be walked by the adventurous in 5 or 6 hours, though the ‘walk’ involves abseiling, 5m jumps into pools, some swimming and maybe a few of the snakes that gave the canyon its name.

The opening at the top of the Snake Canyon, a long twisting cleft in the desert

Our route twisted and turned along the valley sides…

Wadi Bani Awf

….but eventually the valley began to widen out and dwellings became more frequent.

The valley widens, Wadi Bani Awf

Finally we emerged alongside the Wadi that gave the route its name and reached Al Awabi, a small town where we stopped at an Indian restaurant for a late lunch of dahl, pickle, vegetable curry, chicken curry, rice, and the inevitable salad.

After lunch we drove on 40km to Nakhl (sometimes Nakhal).

Nakhl Fort

Nakhl Fort was built round an irregular shaped rock by the Sassanids rulers of Persia (ruled 224-651 CE) to protect their empire from marauding Arabs. It has undergone many changes since and most of today’s fort was built in Omani style in the 17th century when Nakhl was a stronghold of the Imams of Nizwa. The gateway and towers, though, date only from 1834.

Nakhl Fort

Despite all the changes, the influence of the irregular shaped rock still remains.

The irregular rock determines the shape of the battlements, Nakhl Fort

We have seen a number of Omani forts and the interiors are generally similar, the rooms furnished with carpets and cushions and, in this case, a peg to hang your rifle.

and a peg to hang yoyr rifle, Nakhl Fort

Nakhl has a rare example of a bed.

Bedroom, Nakhl Fort

…and a room with the ubiquitous studded chests, a mirror and, unusually, some pottery.

Room with studded chests, a mirror and pottery

One particular jug caught my eye.

Jug, Nakhl Fort

My grandmother had a large collection of Welsh lustre jugs, made, I believe, in the 19th century at Creigiau pottery north of Cardiff. When we cleared her house I went through the collection, discarded the many chipped jugs and kept the other three. They are, I have to admit, rather crude and worth little (you can get one on eBay for £5 or so) but I like them.

My Welsh lustre jugs

The similarity with the Nakhl jug is obvious; the flower decoration is identical in style, colour and technique, though theirs is a bit classier. So, how did a Welsh lustre jug end up in this corner of Arabia? I have no idea.

Outside, the battlements are more varied than most of its type,…

The battlements, Nakhl Fort

..the cannon must once have been threatening,…

Cannon, Nakhl Fort

…and there is a fine view over the town to the mountains beyond.

Nakhl and the moutains beyond from the battlements of the fort

Ain A'Thawwarah Hot Spring

We left the fort, and on the way out of Nakhl sat for a while in the only traffic jam we encountered in Oman. Unlike other Middle Eastern traffic jams we have experienced no one was leaning on their horn or attempting to prize open gaps in the traffic by inching forward into imaginary spaces; all was orderly and calm, as is the Omani way.

We eventually reached a crossroads beside a stream, the cause of the congestion.

All water is attractive in the desert, and this stream was full of children and surrounded by cars, some parked, many more touring around looking for somewhere to park. Suddenly a car pulled out in front of us, a parking space opened up and with deft alacrity Y put us in it. ‘Ain A‘Thawwarah,’ he said. He may have added that it was very popular in the holidays, but we could see that.

A stream full of children, Ain a'Thawwarah

We picked our way along a crowded walkway. On the far bank families had driven up the stream and chosen their picnic places. Many had finished eating and the men were packing away while the women supervised the children in the water.

Picnics and water play, Ain a'Thawwarah

We passed a water-seller dressed like those in Morocco, except sporting Oman’s national flag – I was unsure if we were still on the National Day Holiday or whether it was now the Prophet’s Birthday Holiday, but nobody really cared.

Y and a flag flying water seller, Ain a'Thawwarah

We finally reached the source of all the excitement, a warm spring gushing from a hole in the rock. The resulting pool was full of men, boys and young girls. In a few years the conventions of Omani life will cut these girls off from such freedoms; men may act like boys if they wish, and many here were, but women must never act like girls.

Ain a'Thawwarah hot spring

Back to Muscat and on to Salalah

The drive back to the big city was straightforward. Y suggested we have coffee before he dropped us at the airport for our internal flight south to Salalah, though a café round the back of a petrol station was not the finest setting for a farewell. We had a snack of thin, crisp Omani bread and melted cheese, which we enjoyed without knowing it would be the only dinner we would have that day.

Coffee, bread and melted cheese with Y

Our flight was delayed and we reached Salalah well after dark and transferred to our hotel in time to go to bed.