With Nassir, our taxi driver we drove the 250 km to Sohar. We were surprised how built up the costal area is the moment we left the hotel. Cities and villages flow into each other with no clear seperation. The cosmopolitan area of Muscat has almost 2 million inhabitants. Nearly the entire population of Oman lives along the coast. Its the flat area between the mountain range and the Golf of Oman. Behind the mountains is desert and except for certain tribal people and oil workers, there is not much habitation there.
We arrived at the gates of port Sohar, where we were supposed to have an entrance pass or someone waiting for us with a pass to let us in. None of the above. However, the policeman at the gate recognized our taxi driver and he let us through. Huge oil and gas installations are part of the port area. Oman receives most of its wealth from oil and gas exploration. The Government of Oman and the head of state, the Sultan, invest the revenue in infrastructure and public services of the country. Focus is now also on sustainability and diversification of the economy.
Nassir dropped us off at the office of our customs agent and we loaded all our luggage Into the office. The ladies of the frontdesk in their habeas, looked at us like we came from Mars. Carrying our big luggage bags ourselves is already a strange thing, where are our porters?
The last stamp I needed was from the security office and they had a hard time to understand that our number plate is a real number plate. Explaining him that Sint Maarten is like Zanibar (a former island colony of Oman), he finally understood and gave the last stamp.
Now it was time to meet our Zetros again. How would she look, what condition would she be in, all in one piece, nothing taken? Between buses, trucks, excavators, there she was. And exactly the way we left her in Antwerp Belgium. What a relief!
We loaded the luggage and off we went. First thing was to find a gasstation, since only a minimum of fuel was allowed when being transported. And for the first time this year, I was happy to fuel up the truck, only Euro 0,65 a liter. What a difference with Europe with a price of Euro 2,25! Then we discovered that we forgot to get back our Carnet the Passage, the important paper you need when you do cross country traveling with your own vehicle. So we had to drive back to the port. In the meantime the person we were supposed to meet with the gate pass (a representative of the office in Oman), was contacting us, that he had that particular document and we met at a gas station. We met and he invited us for a drink……in his car. We stepped in the car and drove 5 meters to the door of the gas station. He honked his horn, a guy came running out and he ordered some drinks. Guy comes back and then our man drove slowly around the gasstation while we were zipping our drinks and were chatting with him. The trip took about 10 minutes and we arrived at our truck again. Remarkable little tour!
We said goodbye and we drove off. Then at a roundabout I crashed with a young Omani guy who was overtaking me with speed on the roundabout. Well, that’s not a good beginning! Driving around on this planet for almost 40 years without accident, and now this…..in Oman. Anyway, we stopped after making a circle on the roundabout and try to locate the other party. He was a bit upset (not at all what I expected from an Omani) and in his opinion I was wrong. I looked at the damage and it was not even that bad, our truck had nothing at all, since it was our front bumper hitting his back fender and tail light.He started calling all kind of people and I expected a whole ”tribe” arriving soon to deal with us. A car indeed stopped – coincidently – and an older gentleman stepped out and started talking with the young guy, looked at the damage and asked me where we were from and if I was insured. After some up and down talking the older guy suggested to go to the police station. (And I still didn’t know who that guy was and what relationship he had with the young guy).We arrived at this brand new fort with a huge gate with armed guards, watch towers, walls and a lot of buildings. I had to come with the two guys alone and Marja had to stay in the truck. I thought this is it…What I have heard about or seen on TV, ”locked up abroad”.
We followed a big police officer in khaki uniform and black beret into the main building. Inside this cathedral size reception area, was this long oval counter, with behind It eight police officers, all with the same uniform. The 2 guys (the young driver and the older guy), started talking to the police officers (mind you, all in Arab, so I was standing there like a little puppy, waiting for judgement day). Then I had to come forward and tell my side of the story. I thought thats just for formality purposes, I was convicted already. I had to show my drivers license, passport, vehicle insurance and registration. The officers made a nice drawing of the whole incident and despite the fact that I was of the opinion that I was not wrong, I decided not to argue with anyone. Didn’t want our adventure to stop here within the the walls of the largest police station I had ever seen. (not that I come in many police stations).
In the meantime, the young guy was calling to get a price for the repair of his car, based on pictures. He came with a price of 300 OHR (about Euro 750.00), which I thought based on European prices and the damage, reasonable. An now it begins. All the police officers and the older guy, turned out to be ”on my side” as they started to talk, scream, shout (at least that what it looked liked to me). They al, definitely, found the price way too high. I was again left completely out of the conversation. Now I also started to see, that the older guy was with me all the time, like he wanted to protect me. I tried to get in the conversation, that I had no problem paying the 300 OHR (even if indeed it was to much). I just wanted it to be over with and start my trip. The police say, ok if you want this ok, but ”my guy” totally disagreed. He suggested to go to a garage (he knew a proper one), and get a real quotation. So, of we went and this time I drove in the pick up with my new friend. He now started to explain me who he was and what was going on. First of all, he was not just an ordinary person. He was the son of an important and powerful man in this area. I think I could consider his father to be a sheik (like a tribal leader). He showed me pictures of his father on his phone and indeed, he was the middle of attention at a lot of different important functions and events. Secondly, he didn’t like the way, the young boy (who was from a different tribe I understood), was trying to scam me. That’s not the true nature of the Omani people. (I read in my book that the Omani men can argue a lot with each other, especially if they consider that they themselves got too much In comparison with others). The police officers also know who he was and had a lot of respect for him, hence they argue in his (my) favor with the young boy (who was constantly on his phone with his older brother, who actually owned the car and was instructing him to get as much money as possible, since he was dealing with a “Wealthy” foreigner).
We arrived at the garage and the mechanics looked at the damage. Maximum 75 OHR, instead of the 300 OHR. Thats a big difference (and I thought car repairs are cheap here in Oman, compared with Holland or Sint Maarten). We drove back to the police station and I was instructed by my friend, to sit and relax. (It was as if I had my own lawyer with me). The negotiations continued (with even more police officers involved). Eventually, we agreed upon 175 OHR, which in my opinion was reasonable and all police officers and my friend, approved as well. It was a real game and I almost blew it, by just accepting the first amount, by comparing from my own perspective. I would ruin the market and let the prices for car repairs rise, also for the local market. The police typed a declaration of acceptance and waiving me from further liability (it was all in Arabic, so I counted on the honesty of the police and my friend). I paid the agreed amount and everybody was happy. The young guy even invited me for diner at his house after the whole ordeal! Unfortunately, we had to say no and thank him for the offer, we wanted to get out of the busy area and see what beauty Oman has to offer.
My new friend said goodbye to us, but not before offering us his coffee (he actually gave his whole coffee can) and a dish with food (he was carrying it all with him in his truck). Omani people are generous people, they like to offer food, drinks and even accommodation to total strangers. They are even afraid for getting too much themselves when they share something between them (we usually are afraid to get too little in our society). Their culture and religion are undervalued and I think the coming months we will learn a lot more and will look at it from a different perspective. We said goodbye and he told us to contact him any time if we need help as long as we are in Oman. And with the experience of the afternoon, I am happy to know him.
Since we lost almost the entire afternoon, we had to adjust our plan of driving out of town. We also first had to do shopping for our fresh produce. Luckily Oman entered the 21st century a while ago, so there are large well stocked supermarkets. We stopped at a Carrefour and got all the fresh fruits, vegetables, meat, eggs and other perishables we needed and could store. Since it gets dark around 6 and we were a bit tired of the excitement of the day, we decided to camp very “romantically” on the parking of the Carrefour. However, around 11 at night (and we were already far away in dreamland), there was a knock on the door. The security guard of the CarRefour, came to tell us that we are not allowed to keep the vehicle on the parking after closing of the supermarket. Not in my best mood after being rudely awakened, I argued with the man about the common sense of waking somebody up in the night on a totally empty parking lot. And not just somebody, no, a customer who just did for a couple of weeks shopping in the establishment he was protecting. He finally agreed to let us stay till sunrise. Aggravated I went back to sleep, what a first day with the truck in Oman! And yes, at 6 in the morning he did it again! Knock knock, there he was again, to remind us sun rise arrived and we had to leave, since also his shift had finished. I thought he was just joking, but no, he was serious. And mind you, the mall in which the supermarket was located, opens only at 10 in the morning, so we were not even taking up any parking space. Anyway, after another round of arguing, he left and we stayed. Since we were awake now, we decided to take a shower, have breakfast and hit the road. Lets make it a long day and get somewhere nice.
From Sohar, we took the new 8-lane Expressway, which runs from the UAE to Muscat. A beautiful road which was made to ease the traffic on the congested coastal highway through the metropolitan area. A three hour drive to Muscat, gave us the first glimpse of the natural beauty of Oman. We reached Muscat and drove to the old town, where we entered the old town, drove through the little streets where people waved and smiled to us. Not an everyday sight, a large expedition truck from Sint Maarten taking these small roads. The Corniche was where we came out from the little streets (near the Souq) and from here, we would stay as close to the coast as possible. We past old forts (even Portugese forts) beautiful government buildings and exclusive Arabic villas. For another hour, we still saw houses, commercial buildings and mosques, but it started to be more spread out. Between little towns and villages, there was space, undeveloped land. Some areas were special recreation zones, where the Omanis (especially in the weekends) go hang out with family and friends. Unfortunately, often are these areas heavily polluted with garbage they leave behind.
You can observe that Oman is doing well if you count the number of vacation homes built or under construction along the coast. The mostly single free standing homes, all have flat roofs (used as terrace, laundry dry area and always have a large watertank on top). Everywhere you see blue water tanker trucks driving around, to bring water to the homes. Nearly all houses in Oman are not connected to a water supply network. They depend on water tanker delivery.
Near one of the recreational sites we found a decent place (not too much garbage), to camp. Here we first started to re-pack the truck. We had our suitcases to empty and I had to re-organise my truck compartments. Marja cooked her first real meal again and it was delicious. Due to the heat, we still stayed inside with the AC on. To make up for the short night from the night before, we went to bed early, only to be awake again at 5.30,. Not by a security guard, but by an alarm in the camper unit. The lithium batteries were under voltage. Too low voltage can be harmful for the batteries and that’s bad news. Without proper working batteries, our whole trip could be in jeopardy. So, I switched off all our equipment to lower the power consumption and trIed to prevent to let the batteries from going lower. Since it was still dark (and overcast), we had no solar power to crank up the batteries, so I switched on the truck engine, which in turn is the generator for the camper unit. Via the truck alternator, we can charge the batteries. Luckily, we were able to increase the voltage of the batteries.
We continued to follow the coastal road in the direction of Salalah. For the first time we saw big jeeps and pick up trucks with caravans. Omani people like to camp in the weekend. They go to the beach, set up camp, drink tea, and chia and lots of water. Fish (often their own catch), is prepared on a grill and besides that, they eat a lot of sweet stuff. We passed a little fishing town, where the fishermen just came ashore with their little (often one outboard engine) fishing boats. They come back from sea with full speed and drive their boats on the beach, where (mostly) Toyota Landcruiser Pick ups, tow them further up. Then groups of men come and help the fishermen haul the nets out the boats and by doing so, also take out the fish in the nets and sort them by size or species. Most of the fishermen are from Bangladesh, Omani people hardly do commercial fishing. The Bengalis come and work on a temporary work permit and fish often for the big fishing companies/factories. It all looks like a dis-organized event, but everybody knows what his job is. Once the fish is sorted out, the Land Cruisers bring the blue plastic crates with fish to the many white cooling trucks, which cannot come on he beach. Then the fish is driven to the big fish factories. You see most of the fishermen and their workers with little plastic bags with the fish they need for themselves and go home. Oman is a big fish export country. The territorial waters of Oman are very rich in fish.
It’s also here very unfortunate that the fishermen leave a big pile of garbage on the beach and in the ocean.Empty oil and water bottles, discarded fishing nets are everywhere. During our continuation along the coastal roads (which road cuts the desert from the ocean/beach), we saw many mini shanty towns, where Bengalis live in very primitive conditions. They live close to the beach were they have their fishing boats. And everywhere they leave big piles of garbage in a pristine surrounding. Its was hard for us to find a camp spot without garbage. Eventually we could drive up to a spot (a bit sandy) where there where no fishing boats and it was by far the cleanest spot we found that day. We did a nice stroll along the beach and had a sundowner on our rooftop. In the middle of the night the alarm of the under voltage went off again (since it was still very hot and humid, we had the AC running). Again an early wake up! Now, we were also not able to charge the batteries with the truck generator, so, we switched off everything to save the batteries and made a long walk on the beach and waited till the sun would rise to receive solar power for our batteries. Also that worked out and after breakfast we continued our trip.
We drove up to Ras al Hadd, a little town within the Ra’s Al Hadd Turtle Nature Reserve.Its also the most southern point of Oman. A nice area, were many turtles come to the beach to lay their eggs. After leaving Ras Al Hadd, the weather conditions changed significantly. Form the Gulf of Oman, we now entered the Arabic Sea area. A lot more wind and a least 10 degrees cooler and the humidity was gone. With the wind, no AC was needed anymore and it became pleasant to be outside again. Signs with warning of moving sand dunes on the road were now popping up. (Never seen these kind of signs before). So now we had to pass piles of sand on the tar road and sometimes even go over it. Muscat was no so far, not just in distance, but also it looked like we entered a total different world.
A side road came up leading to a small port, where ferry boats took vehicles and passengers to the largest island of Oman, Masirah. I had read about it and reviews were mixed. The road leading to the long pier towards to port was on a kind of peninsula which was in a marsh (depending on the tide). We had no intention to cross to the island, but we liked the area. Small simple huts were made on the beach where either local fishermen found shelter or families in the area had their weekend pick-nicks. Carefully maneuvering through the marsh paths, we picked a spot and set up camp. A group of 4 Omani women in beautiful local attire passed by and invited us to come to their pick nick spot further down the beach to drink coffee and chai. They left and we thanked them for the invite. Still we were curious and decided to visit them.
A shed made out of parts of a shipwreck, covered with palm leaves was what we found. On the ground big Persian carpets, plates with dades, sweets and cookies. About 8 women were sitting on the ground in all their glory, with golden rings, bracelets and wearing beautiful habayas. There was one man and a lot of children. For them we were the exotic ones, we were given 2 large cushions to sit on and different plates with food were placed in front of us. Coffee and chai were poured in small cups. One younger woman spoke reasonable English and started firing questions (also obo the others). Family is of great importance here in Oman. So we often get the question about our family. How many children, how long married, how old etc. From the young woman who spoke English we understood, that the younger generation wants change. Girls want to be able to go to school, get more freedom and make their own decisions. Its a something what you see growing in more and more Arabic countries. Dubai was the first state, who dared to counter religious rules and give people more freedom. A freedom which can give more prosperity to communities.
Although we were invited to stay and join them to eat diner, we said goodbye. We didn’t realize that after this evening, we would meet a lot more Omani people in a short while. After returning to the truck, I read a little more about Masirah island and we decided to give it a try. We drove up to the pier and when we arrived we saw two ferry boats ready to load. One was a roll on roll off carrier for mostly trucks, the other was one with a beautiful passenger deck on top of the car deck. For us it was about who would go first. It was the first one, so we drove up backwards on the boat, which would leave at 9 in the morning. Just a half hour wait. In the meantime we saw the ferry next to us, loading up quickly and a third ferry came along our ferry and tide up on our ferry. That didnt look right. So we asked again and now the departure time was 11. Thats too long and no guarantee that it would even become later. So we asked the captain of the other boat if it was still possible, since now it seemed like he was leaving at 9. He said that now he was full. So we had to wait. 5 minutes later he signaled, that he had still a last spot, but that we had to buy a ticket at the office, which was a 5 minutes drive back over the pier. So we left the ferry we were standing on and raced towards to office. Just in time we came back and we were really taking the last spot. The ride would take about 80 minutes and we spent our time on the top deck. Not long ago we were standing on the deck of the ferry boat going to the Dutch island of Texel. What a difference! Women in there black abayas and burquas were also standing on the top deck, and the wind was playing with their clothing. It had something magical, but from the other hand you think, wouldn’t they prefer to stand there with a nice blouse and a skirt? We don’t judge, we observe, not too long ago in Europe, tiny bikinis for example were out of the question. Time always tells what was good or not.
From a distance, the mountain tops of Masirah island became visible as well as the big radar dome from the Omani Airforce base. Soon we will find out, that the later would be of great importance to us.
