Muscat, Damiyaat Islands, Sur & Ras al Hadd, Oman
Wadi Shab outside of Sur
The lowdown
We had always wanted to travel to Oman, but had resolved not to go there on our trip. It was out of the way and out of our budget (or so we thought). As we were mapping out the last stretch of our trip, we found that flights from Japan to Eurasia were insanely expensive. We tried a bunch of different permutations, but it turned out that flying through Muscat (the capital of Oman) en route to Georgia would save us a pretty penny…
Though we were excited about the possibility of unexpectedly going to Oman, we were a little hesitant. We would be there in late May and early June, one of the hottest times to be in one of the hottest countries in the world. And Jessie doesn’t do well in the heat, especially when she needs to wear pants and sleeves to be culturally sensitive. We decided to roll the dice and go for it, despite the heat, and we couldn’t have been happier we did.
We spent 11 beautiful, sweaty days in Oman road-tripping around the coast and inland to the desert and mountains. At every point, we were amazed by what Oman had to offer. The scenery was gorgeous and ever-changing, the food was better than expected, the culture was fascinating and so different from anywhere else, and the people were some of the most hospitable in the world.
Day 1: Muscat
Traveling from Tokyo to Muscat was our longest travel day since being abroad, with two seven hour flights and a five hour layover in between, so we didn’t arrive at our hotel in Muscat until after 2am. We were planning on getting a good night’s sleep which proved very difficult with the five hour time change from Japan. We were jetlagged – a novel feeling after spending eight months in the same timezone (give or take an hour). On the bright side, waking up early gave us the opportunity to go to breakfast…
The breakfast spread at the Al Bustan Palace (thank you BonVoy points) would have put a smile on anyone’s face. There was something for everyone – Middle Eastern dips, American staples, Indian classics, a selection of pastries better than most bakeries, fruits from all over the world, and more. We filled our plates with the best looking things from the Middle Eastern section and sat down outside, a mistake that we wouldn’t repeat on the following mornings. The Omani sun is hot, hot, hot.
We had a few hours before we were heading into city center, so we decided to work off breakfast with a tennis match. We hadn’t stayed anywhere with tennis courts and were very excited to take advantage of them. When we went to ask for rackets and the court, the woman at the front desk looked at us like we were insane. She told us we couldn’t play because it was too hot out. After some sweet talking, she asked where we were from, remarked “the US is cold” and then forked over the rackets and a few balls. It felt like she was rooting for us to fail…
It was undeniably hot, but we persevered and had a blast sweating and rallying for an hour. When Jessie went back inside to get water, the woman looked at her in horror and said “you look totally different!” A very odd thing to say for someone that works in a gym and must be accustomed to seeing sweaty people, but it was easy enough to shrug off. We cooled off in the ocean, unsurprisingly some of the warmest water we’ve ever been in, and got ready for our day on the town.
Muathar, a 20-something Omani footballer, picked us up. We soon learned that he was a very amateur guide with fairly limited knowledge of Muscat, but a good hang. We made a few stops around the city, starting with Qasr al-Alam, the Sultan’s entertaining palace. The square outside of the palace was empty outside of a few locals, a feeling we quickly became accustomed to in Oman. We strolled alongside the palace grounds, admiring the well-maintained but decidedly old white buildings juxtaposed against the rugged rocky hills.
Our next stop was the Mutrah Souk, one of the main markets in Muscat. Walking through the souk, we learned that most of the shopkeepers were Indians (there’s a sizable South Indian population in Oman) selling imported goods. We stopped by a stand that was selling frankincense – delicious, woody scents harvested from trees in Salalah that are a staple in every home in Oman. On the way out of the souk, we stopped by a sweets shop that was Muathar’s favorite. We happily sampled Omani diwaniya, a gelatinous semi-sweet dish that had different combinations of nuts and spices. We bought a small tin as a snack for our road trip.
As we walked down the cornice along the ocean, we chatted with Muathar about life in Oman. He was deeply appreciative for his life which he attributed to the natural beauty of the country and his commitment to Islam. He told us that most Omanis practice Ibadi Islam, a minority sect that preaches peace and tolerance. When we got back into the car, he put on his favorite Quranic reciting. It was the perfect soundtrack for our drive across the white city to the Opera House.
The Opera House itself was closed, but luckily the air-conditioned mall next to it was not. After a bathroom and AC break, Muathar took us to a local beach to watch the sunset. We strolled down the beach while Muathar recounted his crazy times in Phuket. He told us that many young Omani men travel to Thailand to party and do things that would be frowned upon in Oman. It was an interesting end to the city tour!
Day 2: Snorkeling in the Damiyaat Islands
We rang in the start of our 27th and 28th years with another delicious Omani breakfast spread and some birthday cake, sent by our lovely friends Sinead and Emily. Then, we suited up and hopped in a car to head to the port. We had a great conversation with our taxi driver, Souleymane. He told us about how life in Oman had dramatically improved under the last sultan who brought the country into modernity. We learned that the first ever income tax had recently been levied on Omanis at the modest, flat rate of 5%.
We boarded our boat for the day and set sail for the Damiyaat Islands, a 45-minute ride from Muscat. Our captain was Ebn, an incredibly sociable, easygoing, hardworking Ghanian who had just moved to Oman. He had some choice words about Allah and the Omani sun. We were joined by three lovely, sharp American women who worked at the embassy and told us all about their lives abroad.
The water around the Damiyaat Islands was the most beautiful water we’ve ever seen. It was bright turquoise, a color that we didn’t realize naturally existed, and completely transparent. We eagerly jumped into the water, snorkles and flippers in hand, and swam to a point where we were hoping to see sea turtles. We came across a group of 13 turtles munching on coral at the bottom of the sea. It was like nothing we had ever seen.
We watched them for long enough that nearby snorkelers made their way over, including a group of poorly behaved men. They encircled the turtles, diving down so they could get close to them and take GoPro pictures. It was egregious to the point where Jessie yelled and told them to stop. They didn’t speak English and definitely didn’t care. We swam away from the other snorkelers and found another group of turtles alongside colorful schools of fish and purple coral.
We climbed back onto the boat, ready to eat and reapply sunscreen. The water helped cool us down, but it was still super hot. We gobbled on pitas while learning about Chips Oman from our new friends – the ubiquitous chip around the Middle East. They tasted like a cross between Lays and Pop Chips to us.
Chips Oman gone, it was time for our second snorkeling spot. Ebn told us we might see sharks if we were lucky. We didn’t see any sharks, but we did see more turtles (which we would have rather seen than sharks), even some that were sleeping. We liked this snorkeling spot much more than the first as we found ourselves alone with the turtles and in an expansive reef with cylindrical coral.
After a fantastic day doing one of our new favorite activities, we made our way back to the hotel. We were wiped and completely torched, but unanimously agreed that this would be a tough birthday to beat. We were lucky enough to catch up with our families and a few friends before heading to the beach to catch the sunset. We ordered celebratory drinks, played a few games of Yahtzee, and took in the views as the sun dipped down to the Arabian Sea.
To top off our day, we popped a bottle of Prosecco (thanks Em and Sinead) and ordered healthy helpings of daal fry and paneer butter masala that we enjoyed from the comforts of our room.
Day 3: Muscat to Sur
One last wake up at the Al Bustan Palace, one last breakfast feast. We were sad to leave, but it was time to get back to “reality” (aka non-luxury accommodations). Reality hit us hard at the airport when we went to pick up our rental car. It turns out we had rented an AWD car instead of the 4WD car we needed to get up into the mountains. We paid up and went on our merry way to Sur.
Driving in Oman was off to an easy start. The roads were big and well-maintained without any obstacles. We drove for an hour and a half before stopping in Qurriyat where there was meant to be a nice viewpoint. We didn’t manage to track down the viewpoint, but we did have a fun off-road adventure. It was good prep for the desert!
We continued on for a few more hours before stopping at the Bimmah Sinkhole, the highlight of the day. It was a huge sinkhole with clear salty water in the middle of a little park. We descended down the precarious staircase, happily shed our sweaty clothes, and went full steam ahead into the water. We had the whole place to ourselves for most of the time and had a blast floating around. When we were ready to get out, we sat on the rocks near the sinkhole and got complimentary fish pedicures with the bottom feeders that were eager to eat the dead skin off our feet.
We drove for another hour into Sur, our resting place for the evening. We found a small, unassuming joint for dinner – Al Wajabat al Suriyya – that was run by a friendly group of Bangladeshi guys. We sat at the only table inside, surrounded by stock images of Oman that looked like they were from 1980s tourism adds, carpets that had probably never been cleaned, and a random assortment of weapons on the wall.
We ordered in piecemeal Arabic, not exactly sure what would come out. It turned out to be an absolute feast and one of our best meals in Oman. We had a whole fish, cuttlefish and shrimp curry, spiced biryani with chickpeas, a fresh salad, and fresh mango juice. While we were eating, the call to prayer went off and all of the men came into the room we were sitting in to pray. It was a neat moment.
After dinner, we checked into the Grand Sur Hotel, a hotel off the highway that closely resembled a Best Western with its outdated carpet and aerated pillows. We hadn’t stayed anywhere like this in the past 8 months and it felt like a friendly reminder of home.
Day 4: Sur to Wadi Shab to Ras al Hadd
We woke up at the crack of dawn, ready to get out of the not-so-Grand Sur Hotel. Lucky for us, heading to Wadi Shab early meant fewer people and milder temperatures (if you can call 95 degrees mild). When we pulled into the parking lot, we were the only ones there outside of a mother and son duo who were traveling around Oman for seven weeks. They came prepared with water shoes, something we quickly realized was a veteran move. We all took a boat across the river to the trailhead where our hike to the wadi started.
It was a paradisal hike with beautiful cliffs that reminded us of the ruggedness of the Pamirs, palm and date trees, and a bright green stream flowing through the valley. We had the whole wadi to ourselves as the mother son duo sped past us with their water shoes. It seemed like a choose your own adventure type of hike and the adventure we chose led to bouldering, wading in the water, and even throwing our backpack and shoes across the stream at a few points. After an hour of making our own path under the beating sun, we arrived at the first wadi pool sweaty, tired, thirsty, and definitely ready for a swim.
We scouted out a few places to jump into the water, none of which seemed like promising places to climb back up, before deciding to take the least risky route. We trudged through reeds, including some that were home to terrifying-looking bugs, and immersed ourselves in the seafoam green water. We swam to the second pool and then the third before running back into the mother son duo. They warned us about the strength of the waterfall ahead and wished us well.
We spent a few minutes floating in the third pool before working up the courage to go into the cave that led to the waterfall. We could hear and see the force of the waterfall from the current coming out of the cave and psyched ourselves out a few times before deciding to commit. Luckily, we were able to squeeze through a tight space that led to the cave instead of going under the water, something we were both concerned about given the strength of the current. Once we were inside, we spent a few minutes marveling at the hidden waterfall and its force before going back into the pool.
The hike back to the trailhead was much more straightforward and efficient, something we were thankful for as the day had really heated up. By the time we got back, we were ready for water, air-conditioning, and food. We made a quick stop at the supermarket to pick up toothpaste and some roadtrip snacks (Oman had a great selection of Indian snacks which we were thrilled about) and happened to be in there when the call to prayer played over the speakers. Fascinating.
We settled on a Turkish restaurant, Forum Istanbul, for lunch that was located in a strip mall on our way out of Sur. We way over-ordered and had enough food for a small village between the mutabel, tabouli, hummus, Turkish flatbread, and small mixed grill (there was nothing small about it) for the modest price of 5 rial. Post-feast, we drove along the coast, a bit inland, and then back along the coast to Ras al Hadd for the next stop on our roadtrip.
When we arrived at Salem’s Guest House, we were met by a friendly guy who we presumed to be Salem. In typical Omani fashion, he offered us coffee, tea, dates, and even diwaniya. He turned out to be Sanoos, a very kind Sri Lankan man who helped Salem out around the guesthouse.
A few hours later, Salem came back to the guesthouse, introduced himself, and asked if we were interested in going to the beach. We got into a rundown Nissan 4×4 filled with sand that Salem affectionally referred to as his “beach car” – a car he exclusively used to drive to and from the beach. Within minutes, we were at the beach. It was beautiful and completely untouched with hues of pink sand, dead blowfish all around, and no one else in sight outside of the fishermen on the water. We ran into the sea which was a little cooler than in Muscat, but very pleasant for an evening swim.
Walid, Salem’s younger brother, showed up and Salem motioned for us to hop into his boat. It was time to fish! Salem and Walid hooked us up with two hooks (pun intended) on the ends of very long fishing lines, no poles needed. We flew over the choppy seas as Walid steered the boat on a hunt for tuna. We were super pumped when Doug caught a fish, but Salem was disappointed. He told us that it was a tiny tuna and we’d have to do better.
After another 30 minutes of flying around, Jessie hooked the catch of the day: a massive, 12-15 lb tuna. Salem seemed a little more pleased and said we would have it for dinner. As the sun set over the Gulf of Oman, we made our way back to shore. We probably had crazy smiles plastered on our faces – it was such an unexpectedly awesome greeting to Ras al Hadd and one of those afternoons that felt emblematic of the trip.
We returned to the guesthouse for coffee and story time with Salem. He was excited to tell us about his extensive travels to Europe over the years, his many friends, and his escapades with women overseas. We got a real kick out of his crazy stories and loved hanging out with Salem. Sanoos prepared an amazing dinner with the tuna that we caught, biryani, chapati, and some delicious spreads. We sat around the table with Salem, Walid, and Sanoos who collectively made us eat more than we thought we could. It was an amazing day!
Day 5: Snorkeling in Ras al Hadd
We woke up wishing we had a few more days in Ras al Hadd, but promised ourselves that we would return someday. One of the coolest things about the area is that each season brings a different amazing event – turtles mating, laying eggs, baby turtles on the beach, dolphins, etc., so we’re determined to return to witness more of those things. We started the day outside drinking coffee with Salem in his Bedouin tent. He chalked up his hospitality to his bedouin heritage and told us about how his family had moved to Ras al Hadd from the desert generations ago.
After fueling up on Omani coffee, it was time for another adventure: snorkeling. This type of snorkeling was much more DIY than the snorkeling in the Damiyaat Islands. Walid handed us two old cloudy masks, pulled us up on the boat, and shouted “yalla” whenever it was time to jump into the water. Immediately, we saw many sea turtles peering out of the water. Some of them were even pairs of turtles that were mating – an amazing sight. The first few times we jumped into the water, we saw huge turtles. We tried our best to follow them through the water, but it was deep, choppy, and cloudy. We were exhausted swimming against the current and getting bruised up when we tried to pull ourselves back up into the rusty, metal boat.
Walid took us to a calm cove where we could swim freely. We saw little fish and even a few baby turtles from afar. I communicated with Walid in broken Arabic, something that made all of us smile and led to a few laughs. On the way back to the beach, we spotted and followed a few huge manta rays and many more turtles. During one of our last jumps, we followed the biggest sea turtle we had seen all around the sea. The turtle graciously slowed down to let us keep up and even came very close to us.
After snorkeling, we showered, packed up, and said our goodbyes to Salem, Walid, and Sanoos. We were sad to leave Ras al Hadd, but it’s already on our list of places that we want to go back to. We have no doubt that we’ll meet Salem again!
