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.

Oman, Kingdom in the Desert

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

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.

Oman, Kingdom in the Desert

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