**Our Trip & Itinerary**

We spent just seven days in Oman, but in that short time we fell in love enough to already start planning our return trip! We landed in Muscat and drove straight into the mountains towards Nizwa, where we spent our first two nights exploring the old city and its surrounding towns. From Nizwa, we drove south through the desert and mountains to Sur for one night and then on to the Ras Al Jinz Turtle Reserve near Ras Al Hadd, the furthest East point on the Arabian peninsula. After spending one night at the Turtle Reserve we drove up the coast to Muscat and spent our final two nights at the magnificent Al Bustan Palace hotel. We explored all of what Muscat had to offer while finding time to relax and snorkel as much as possible, before leaving Oman for our summer break in Switzerland.

Nizwa & Al Hamra

We landed in Muscat and picked up our rental car at the airport then immediately began our trip by driving two hours southwest towards Nizwa. Driving out from the airport, we were immediately reminded of southern deserts in Arizona and California. Barren, rocky mountains rose on either side of the highway, with flat sandy desert intermittently filling in the gaps between ranges. It felt good to be back on the road, driving a real car, after our past several months relying on unpredictable buses, unreliable Grab rides, and short hops on scooters. One of the first things we realized about driving in Oman is how much the Omani government loves a speed camera; there seemed to be one every 500 meters to 1 kilometer. In isolation this wouldn’t be an issue, just drive under the limit and we’d be fine, right? Wrong! Drivers on Omani highways love to constantly change speed, accelerating to 30 or 40 kph over the speed limit in between cameras, then braking right before the cameras to go by at the limit. If you’re not driving in the same manner, drivers will come up right behind you, almost nudging your car faster with their bumper. Once we got off the highway, we no longer had to deal with these speed cameras, so drivers were free to constantly speed, passing us at any given chance to surpass our 100 kph crawl. Yet this wasn’t the end of our problems. On the secondary roads, we learned about the Omani road authority’s second love; speed bumps. I’ve driven all over the world, but I don’t think I’ve ever experienced as many speed bumps as those littered across Oman’s B-roads. The worst part was that many of these bumps are no longer marked, as the signs on the side of the road have been removed, or lost, and the painted stripes have all faded away. This all culminated in us hitting the first speed bump we found at speed, 80 kph, sending us and our tiny rental car airborne, so much so that it caused our left blinker and windscreen wipers to come on when we landed. Suffice it to say that Sarah was not impressed with my driving at that moment and would go on to spend the rest of our driving in Oman continuously scanning the roads for speed bumps to warn me of impending doom.

Before reaching Nizwa we stopped at Birkat Al Mouz, an old hillside town that was abandoned 100 years ago, left to be consumed by the desert. Nowadays, it is in the middle of its journey back to the sand and dirt from which it came, but you can explore the ruins of this once bustling town all on your own. We entered through the Bait Al Sabah Heritage Inn, which has been built in the best-preserved building in town at the bottom of the hill, and made our way up the first passageways towards the old town’s center. Amazingly, while the whole town is falling apart, the one thing that has remained perfectly intact, and still in use by other settlements today is the falaj: a perfectly sculpted, ancient waterway canal. Flowing through the center of this old town, it still brings lifesaving water to the homes and date palm farms further down the valley, thousands of years after it was built. Oman’s mountains and valleys are criss-crossed by thousands of these falaj, which were mainly built in antiquity over 5,000 years ago. Exceptionally, even after all this time, they’re still the primary source of water for most of the small villages and towns spread in the Al Hajar, as well as Jebel Akhdar mountains and their foothills. Within Birkat Al Mouz, we explored many of the town’s footpaths and alleyways, peeking into the old homes, in various stages of decay. We were amazed to find that a few of the homes still had their original painted ceilings in-tact, a living example of what these homes would’ve looked like for their inhabitants several hundred years ago.

Leaving Birkat Al Mouz, we completed our drive to Nizwa and checked into our hotel, working up a sweat just taking our bags from the curb into reception. It was now late afternoon on our first day, and we were being introduced to the real daily temperatures in Oman, 44º on our car’s dashboard, with a real-feel of 49º! Sensibly, we decided to spend the afternoon indoors, unpacking and getting settled into our hotel. Once the sun started getting lower on the horizon, we ventured back out, driving towards Nizwa’s old quarter. We parked our car in the town’s riverbed, apparently a sensible action in the dry season, and began walking toward Nizwa’s old fort. Only a few steps from our car we were stopped by Mohammed Zayed Abdul, an elderly Omani man who wanted to welcome us to Oman, ask where we were from, and, in broken English, tell us about all the western countries he had visited in his lifetime. The kind interaction was totally unexpected given the conservative nature of Islam, but was a good introduction to the hospitality and warmth that we would learn Omanis are famous for. We spent the rest of our evening exploring the city’s circular old fort, with a great view for sunset, the attached old castle, and winding passageways through the old town. It was magical to watch the hazy sunset fade over the tan rooftops and palm trees of the city. Nizwa reminded us of other old cities we’ve seen in Tunisia, Turkey, Morocco, or even Greece but with its own unique Arabian flair. We finished our night by walking a restored section of the old city wall, looking over at ancient date palm groves and lotus ponds. In this desert, the amount of flowing water and greenery amazed us, the age-old and durable falaj enriching the barren landscape.

The following morning, on the recommendation of our hotel’s concierge, we woke up with the sunrise and made our way back into the old town for the Friday market at the local Souq. The immediate scent of farm animals and gunpowder told us that this was indeed a ‘can’t miss’ event. We wandered into the market and stumbled into a crowd of Omani men, so packed in the rock-walled square that some were standing on the walls to get a peek at the center of the action. Making our way closer, we realized three things: first, this group was gathered around a ring of dozens of goats and the odd cow, which were being shown off for auction, second, Sarah was the only woman in sight, and third, almost all of the men were carrying rifles. We tried to peek at the action as best we could, but with the throng being so large, we were only able to catch the odd glimpse of a confused goat or the sound of yelling men. We were also unsure of the cultural norms of a woman going to the livestock auction, so we opted for the carefully respectful option of watching from afar and backing off. Instead we turned our focus to the other areas within the Souq. There were fruit and vegetable sellers, sweet stands, and many storefronts selling Khanjars, the ornate knife that has become Oman’s national symbol. Interestingly, not every building in Nizwa’s Souq was created equal, some, like the sweet sellers Souq were modern and air-conditioned, while others, like the spice Souq had simple tin roof covers and were open to the outside. In one of the cooled market halls, we felt ourselves drawn to the stands selling halwa, a type of confectionary originating from Persia made from a combination of butter, saffron, rosewater, milk, turmeric, and sugar. After a bit of a wander of the central market, we found ourselves near an old well that was surrounded by men examining rifles and excitedly debating in Arabic. We later discovered that rifles are a key element to traditional Omani attire, so they are a hot ticket item at each morning market.

Leaving the Souq we drove out to Misfah Al Abriyyin, a time-worn hillside town just outside of Al Hamra. The small town doesn’t have any room for cars, encouraging visitors to instead leave their cars near the edge of the newer extension of Al Abriyyin and walk from there. Our walk into the old part of town felt like taking slow steps through a time machine, seemingly moving further back in time the deeper we went. The main passage entering town runs between two giant, perfectly spaced rocks, seemingly building a natural gate. The rocks curve in such a way that they hide the alleyways that wind their way through the settlement beyond, seducing visitors to walk through to discover the town's wonders. We followed some of the passages down to the date palm terraces on the low side of town until we almost literally fell into the town’s swimming holes. Since Oman is a Muslim country, there are separate swimming areas for men and women, and while anyone can see the men’s swimming area, the women’s area was shielded by a stone wall. The boys I saw scampering in the men’s area were jumping from a nearby roof into a pool larger than 10 square meters, and no deeper than 2 meters, a brave but crazy endeavor. Sarah reported that the women’s area was much smaller than the men’s and didn’t even feature a full pool, just a canal that was deep enough to go into your ankles. With the sun rising quickly in the sky, and the day’s temperature climbing, we left the swimming holes and followed the path out of town, up through many date palm terraces lining the side of a huge canyon. Walking this path it seemed impossible that Oman could’ve changed at all in the past thousand years. All of these terraces were fed by one falaj and the men harvesting dates were still doing so in traditional dress and straw shoes. Just as we were turning around to head back towards our car, a date farmer we passed with his sons offered us freshly harvested dates from his basket. It would’ve been the perfect way to end our visit to Misfah Al Abriyyin… But in a moment of blind stupidity, I declined. Instead of embracing Omani hospitality, I thought of it as unnecessarily taking from his hard earned dates, a decision that was led by my American brain. With a look of confusion on his face, and a look of disbelief on Sarah’s, we dipped our heads and followed the narrow path out of town.

Our final stop in the Nizwa area was Al Hamra’s old village. As you drive into Al Hamra today, you would be mistaken for thinking it’s just another bustling town, but cross the newer areas and suddenly you smack right into the crumbling, old town. Similar to Birkat Al Mouz there is a falaj that runs through the bottom of the decaying village and many of the homes still have their ornately painted walls. Yet unlike Birkat Al Mouz, we could walk for blocks, and blocks, and more blocks until we reached the other side of the old area. The most amazing part of these ruins is that there are no ropes, restrictions, or ‘do not enter’ signs stopping us from exploring the insides of any of the crumbling structures. Walking into these buildings gave us a much more comprehensive view on what life must have been like for people in Oman over the past several hundred years.

Sur & Ras Al Jinz

Next, we swapped the tightly wound streets of Nizwa for the breezy oceanside city of Sur. Driving through the barren desert, we spotted camels grazing among the scarce shrubbery and the occasional mosque roof glittering in the harsh sun. Once in Sur, we were met with a wave of humidity as we stepped outside the car. Quite an unexpected experience in the desert, but the salty sea air brought moisture to the still very sandy city. That evening, we drove towards town for dinner, making a stop at the beach to watch locals enjoy the bathwater-warm waves. The beach was completely full – children giggled in the gentle sea, teenagers jumped off of rocky cliffs across the bay, and women in hijabs gleefully dipped their toes in the sand while watching their children. Feet in the water, we watched the glowing, tangerine sun dip below the city. After a delightful dinner at a vegetarian restaurant, we intensely (and sadly) watched Switzerland lose to England in the European Cup quarter-final.

The next morning, we made a stop at the old ship yard that continues to build traditional Omani Dhow ships. These ships trace back to a time when the Arabian Peninsula was a hub for trade and exploration. Each element of these impressive vessels is hand-crafted and carved, meaning the men working at the site are highly-skilled and rare craftsmen. After spending some time wandering the ships under construction and playing with the resident gang of puppies, we were set to leave for Ras Al Jinz, despite feeling like we could have spent another day or two in Sur. Still, we felt the building excitement for what lay at the end of the road: TURTLES! We arrived in Ras Al Jinz in awe of the moon-like landscape, just a mere kilometer from the deep blue ocean. That evening, we had dinner in a quiet Indian restaurant in Al Hadd, serving as a bit of an attraction for the locals. Once the sun faded beyond the hills, we gathered in the reception area of the hotel to meet the few other hotel guests and tour visitors. The group came out to about twenty people, but our guide assured us that peak months can bring up to three hundred visitors a night – an unbelievable headcount that would surely strain the experience. Luckily, we split our already small group into two, ditching the children and their parents for a solely adult troop. We walked through the darkness with our guide, feeling the ground beneath our feet change from hard and rocky, to sandy and cool. Once on the beach, we encountered one of the reserve’s rangers, who was quietly checking the holes for turtles. Interestingly, these little craters are recycled among green sea turtles – one might begin digging only to realize that the sand is too loose and move on to another area. The next day, another turtle may find the sand suitable and settle in the pre-dug hole. Immediately, the ranger flashed his light in our direction, motioning to our guide to bring us to the first turtle. As we approached, we could see wisps of sand being lifted into the misty air and eventually, the massive turtle burrowing beneath it. It was incredible to watch her take a deep breath, preparing every minute or so for the next digging push. Every now and then, she shuffled her back flippers to move out of the hole and clear more area to cover with sand. As quickly as this first turtle was spotted, the ranger discovered another mama who, this time, was laying her eggs! We moved over a few meters and watched her calmly pushing out her ping pong-like eggs. Our guide respectfully switched his white light to red, as this color is not visible to them and allowed us to watch her without upsetting her. After watching her for a while, we were called over by our guide to watch the first turtle make her way back to the ocean. Having safely covered up her nest, the turtle slowly flippered her way towards the sea. As she went further into the waves, she was swooped up, her crawl turning into a glide.

The next morning, we woke up before dawn to join the morning turtle viewing session. Much to our surprise, we were the only ones to brave the early hour! So, we loaded into the hotel car with our new guide Nasser, this time making our way to the further beach. As we pulled up, the sun began to paint the sand a pale pink. While spotting turtles in the morning hours is more difficult, we quickly saw our first turtle, vigorously burying her eggs to beat the sunrise. After a few minutes, she decided she was done and scooted her way across the sand and into the sea. We watched two other turtles finish their journey on land as the pale sun turned vibrant and hazy, marmalade light brightened the beach. Since we were on our own, we were able to quietly approach the sea turtles and witness their arrival back in the ocean. With one final lift of their head above the waves, they dipped into the sea to return home.

Muscat

We left our new ocean friends behind and arrived in Muscat, immediately checking into our hotel: the magnificent Al Bustan Palace, a Ritz-Carlton Hotel. We used two free night awards out of our five night sign-up bonus from our Marriott Bonvoy Boundless credit card, meaning we paid nothing to stay at one of the best hotels in the region. Thanks to our American Express Platinum card, we also have Marriott Bonvoy Gold status, entitling us to some perks like room upgrades when available and free breakfast. Since it was the low season when we visited, they didn’t just upgrade us, they gave us basically the best room in the house: an Executive Suite. The room was probably bigger than our entire Brooklyn apartment, and came with enough free water to fill a bathtub, a real plus in dry, hot Oman! The one downside of this amazing room, was that instead of leaving the hotel straight away to explore Muscat, we decided that 45º was too warm and we should probably soak up this luxury living as a heat precaution. Once we started to get hungry, we reluctantly left our chateau and drove to the nearby Mutrah Souq. Hoping to find a Souq as unique as Nizwa’s or with as many beautiful fabrics as Sur’s, we were disappointed to enter a world of tourist souvenirs, knockoff bags, and aggressive shopkeepers. Instead of wasting our time here, we drove to Ubhar for dinner, an authentic Omani restaurant near the huge Royal Opera House. We were a bit nervous walking in and finding the restaurant almost totally empty but persevered, which turned out to be a great decision. Sarah sampled a number of cold appetizers and regional starters, while I tried Madrooba, a traditional fish dish that I absolutely loved despite its pasty consistency! One thing to note with Omani portions, is that dishes are typically meant to be shared, so dishes may be larger than expected and a bit excessive for one person.

The following morning our first stop was at our hotel’s breakfast buffet, though simply saying ‘buffet’ does not do this breakfast spread justice. I think it would’ve taken us a week to get through everything on offer. From endless hot plates cooked on demand, to the most extensive hummus and labneh spread we’ve encountered, to an entire section of freshly baked pastries, it was truly heavenly. We could only indulge ourselves for so long before we felt the tightening of our pant’s waistlines and knew it was time to move on. We would, of course, be back tomorrow anyways. Leaving our opulent hotel, we drove into modern Muscat, heading for the Sultan Al Qaboos Grand Mosque. The mosque itself is relatively new, only completed in 2001, but was designed and built with a focus on traditional Muslim architecture. Entering the main hall of the mosque, it’s impossible not to be in awe of the chandelier hanging in the center – made up of 600,000 Swarovski crystals – or the enormous single carpet stretching 230 meters across the space – made from 1.7 billion individual knots. Each detail in the space draws your eyes in, each column and ceiling painting captures your attention. It would have been so easy to stand in awe of the space for hours, except for the islamic-education representative who wanted to have a “conversation” with us. Although he had been busy when we had arrived, he was now looking for something to do, and spotted us quietly taking pictures underneath the Mihrab. Approaching us at a hastened speed, he struck up a conversation under false pretenses, framing it as a debate around Islamic vs. non-Islamic beliefs. However, we quickly found ourselves in a scripted Islamic conversion pitch, with many references to why the Muslim world was better equipped for modern times than the Western world. Sarah and I quickly threw up our internal defenses, but still listened to what this man had to say, finding it interesting to hear how he described the freedom Muslim women faced versus our perception of their reality. Sensing he wasn’t going to tally two more successful conversions today, he graciously bowed out of the conversation after about fifteen minutes with one final kind gesture, taking our photo in the middle of the hall.

Stepping outside of the main hall, we realized just how hot the day had become, about 40º by this point, so instead of walking around the outside of the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque, we drove to one of his other gifts to the people: the grand Royal Opera Hall. Opened in 2011, this hall is another stunning piece of Islamic architecture, incorporating different regional touches from many Muslim countries. Our guide walked us into the main Opera Hall and started blowing our minds with some of the cutting-edge features of the space. For starters, the forward guest boxes can be turned 30º depending on the size of the stage, which itself can be adjusted by moving the enormous organ at the back of the stage 20 meters forward or backwards along hidden tracks. The modern touches didn’t even stop there, with a small screen at each seat that translates the show as it’s happening into English, Arabic, or Italian depending on the viewer in each chair’s preference.

Determining that we had sufficiently explored Muscat for the day, and in an attempt to stay out of the oppressive heat, we drove back to our stately hotel and changed for a quick snorkel in the ocean. Our original plan for today had involved an afternoon trip to the Daymaniyat Islands, allegedly one of the best snorkeling spots in the world. Unfortunately, during our time in Muscat, the sea was too rough for small boats to make the journey to the islands thanks to strong summer winds blowing north through the Gulf of Oman. Therefore, instead of taking a rather expensive (and potentially disappointing) trip out to the Daymaniyats we picked up some free snorkel gear from our hotel’s sea activities center and went straight out from our hotel’s beach to the reefs nearby. The sea was pretty choppy, up to one meter waves when we got a decent way out, and visibility was quite poor, but the small peeks at the sea life was worth it. We were able to catch fleeting glimpses of pink whiprays, giant pufferfish, and dozens of parrotfish. The real prize of our swim was the brief moments when we were able to spot Olive Ridley sea turtles up close. We saw 3 or 4 (not sure if we saw one twice or if it was two separate turtles) happily swimming around some of the distant reefs. Unlike Green sea turtles, Olive Ridley’s are rather skittish and are quick to nervously dart away on approach. We returned to shore once our arms got tired from fighting the sea, happy with what we had seen, but hungry for our last traditional dinner in Oman. Sarah found Ramssa Omani for our final supper – a hole in the wall, local haunt with dining areas on the floor and a tasting menu that took us through every region’s culinary specialities. The food was all very tasty, including a new addition to Jackson’s menu: camel meat. Receiving our massive platters, we once again ran into our problem of having too much for our seemingly ever-shrinking bellies. Luckily, our gracious waiter was just happy we’d enjoyed the food and didn’t mind taking back half of each plate he brought us. We persevered as best we could through each course, until we were relieved at long-last to see the dessert arrive. Nibbling on Omani sweets, we reflected on another busy day in this amazing country.

On our final morning in Muscat we ventured back into the sea for a repeat of yesterday’s snorkel, then feasted once again at our hotel’s tremendous breakfast spread. Soaking up our palace for as long as we could, we stayed indoors until our precise check-out time at noon, not wanting to leave the opulent luxury of the Al Bustan Palace behind. Our only destination today was the National Museum of Oman, a relatively new construction, and another flagship cultural investment from the late Sultan Qaboos. Expecting to only spend an hour or two exploring the museum’s limited space, we were amazed to find that by the time we left, almost four hours had passed! Spread over two floors, the museum delves into the history of Oman from the prehistoric through the present, and dedicates large spaces to the industries that are the foundation of the country like fishing and desert architecture. The museum is excellently curated, with simply too many small, unique pieces of Omani history to explore to get through quickly. With our minds as full as our tummies were from breakfast, we departed for the airport and our long flight on to our summer break in Switzerland.