Musings of Muscat

Nov 5-8, 2007

All the way I was looking forward to the meetings at Muscat. Though the week just before departing I must say I was musing a lot over it. Some courage had to be mustered. There was a cyclone alert for Oman. Last year’s images of cyclone Gonu and the damage it had caused must have imprinted some daunting memories in my mind. Luckily enough the winds seemed to pass and hit the coast of Yemen instead and leave Muscat peacefully to us.

The flight was so short and uneventful that I remember every detail. I could barely finish the coffee or the conversation. The price I had to pay for ogling at the Palm Jumeriah and ‘The World’ islands from the window since we were flying at such low altitudes.

Reaching Muscat was faster than driving to the Mall of the Emirates. The drive to the hotel was our first feel of a country shrouded in Mountains and ocean on one side and veiled in tradition on another. All I knew of this country was the pictures I used to see on my stamp collection.

The car zipped on the impressive roads, brushing aside the few other big and imported cars on the road. The Omanis make the most of their oil reserves by driving around in style. We did maintain a constant speed of 120 kmph. At this speed, we could still catch glimpses of Islamic architecture, imaginative roundabouts and the beige mountains.

There was no rain or wind but it was nice and misty. The clouds were like nature’s umbrella keeping us from the glares of the ferocious Middle East Sun. The weather played perfect host. And I did thank the elusive cyclone that so ideally evaded us. It was a blessing in disguise.

We drove into Hotel Shangri-La. It did completely live up to its name. A hotel resort village nestled in rugged mountains and pristine beaches. It exceeded my imagination. A really dramatic setting completely cut out from the hullabaloo called urban life. True to its name the hotel was idyllic and did pamper our senses.

Organising the meetings, participating in them and praying that nothing goes wrong for four days does take some time and energy. Strangely enough I did manage to squeeze in some sightseeing. It would be a sin not to look at all the beauty around. After briefly getting things into place we did go downtown.

The drive itself was breathtaking. Driving through arid and rocky terrain albeit on excellent roads with no signs of life on either side was an experience. The mountains were completely lifeless - no flora or fauna. The only solace is the traces of the city that is visible from up the hills. Qantab beach was our stopover. With rocky mountains flanking the ocean and hardly any human beings on the beach to blotch the charm of the Arabian Gulf it was a photo op that we did not want to miss.

Muscat, the town itself is like Dubai 50 years ago where people hit the bed after sunset. And those brave men who were awake while their countrymen slept sold wares of woe of the Arabian land. We walked through Matrah souq, a traditional Arab market. It was felt like stepping into the pages of the Arabian tales. Shops proudly displayed traditional Omani daggers, Aladdin lamps, chunky jewellery, traditional perfume and bright coloured clothes with the drone of Arabic music heard in the background. Of course side by side they also had the fake Rolex watches and the fake Gucci hand bags.

At the centre of the city is the palace. The Al Alam palace is the ceremonial palace of the ruler of Oman – Sultan Qaboos Said. Set against the backdrop of the Arabian Peninsula, this white and gold building looks imposing and elegant at the same time. The marble hallway of the palace is brightly lit and the beautiful lawns are neatly manicured. The two forts called Jelali and Merani guarding it in medieval style, completed the picture.

Slightly away from the palace was the corniche. It is a nice stretch of walkway with a long water fountain set with colourful lights. The breakwater stones overlook the little Muscat port and we were struggling to keep our hair in place with the cool evening breeze.

Muscat is a little city that has to cradle a meager population of 600,000 people. It is completely unspoiled by high rise buildings and huge shopping malls. The traditional Islamic architecture is kept alive. The men still wear the customary white robes (Dishdashas) while they whizzed past in their Audis and Mercedes on the super highways. The roundabouts particularly caught my eye. Each one of them is aesthetically made. Some examples were - an Arabian teapot, a traditional Arab boat called a Dhow with a little water fountain beneath it and a design of earthenware pots. They did their part in beautifying the city.

Next day we did wake up to the most gorgeous sunrise at the beach.

From behind the cliff ascended the red ball -

The Arabian sands shine until fall.