Monday night I truly experienced sensory overload.
I found myself at the Muttrah Souq (market) which is south of Muscat, towards the Old City and the coast.
We were taken there by Alison and Ewan, who are friends of George and Clare. Alison and Ewan are South African ex-pats, teaching english at a private Omani school, funded by one of the oil companies.
The Souq sits along a corniche on the edge of the water which is beautifully lit up at night by lights of all colours and brightness. In the small harbour here, you can find the Sultans Yacht (or, liner - it's huge!) and various other cruise and commercial ships docking, loading and unloading.
We parked and tempted fate by crossing the road (at the lights) but made it safely inside.
As I entered, my nose was instantly hit by a million over powering smells, which made me, to begin with, feel quite dizzy.
Once I began to come to grips with the smells, I persevered and began to investigate the sights of the small shops and stalls.
The Souq is a series of, I guess, large corridors and alley-ways, both inside and out (covered and un-covered). Outside of each small stall or shop (which is sometimes only wide enough for one person to walk through) are the most insistent salesman I have ever had the pleasure (and pain) of meeting. At first I was, again, overwhelmed with their tactics to get me to try their specific incense, or their shirts, jewellery, herbs, or whatever they were selling. It must have taken me about 40 minutes to get through the first main alleyway (which is only about 25 metres long) as I was accosted by each person outside their shop. But I managed to get the knack of politely saying no thank you and walking on... But, as you know and as I've already written earlier, I love a sales-pitch and lapped up most of the banter as I perused the often weird, yet strangely wonderful warez that was on offer through these brightly lit and busy walkways.
At this stage I stumbled across Clare discussing smells with an indian chap who was selling herbs and the like. He was fascinated as Clare had quite a talented nose and was able to detect the specific scents in certain un-marked boxes and jars and establish what they all were. The shop owner was extremely impressed and asked where she was from. 'New Zealand' she replied and his head tilted to the sky and eyes gently closed while pining 'I must travel to New Zealand... especially if there are more women with knowledge like yourself'.
Heh.
I then spent quite a bit of time looking at the jewellery. This particular Souq isn't renowned for its gold and silver, but still had an amazing array of mostly womens jewellery on show. Particularly the head-pieces and necklaces, which in Omani culture are given to a bride by the groom as a wedding present. The wedding can not take place until the bride has received her particular piece. It's interesting as essentially what is given becomes her 'bank account', where she can then add more pieces to it as time goes on.
They weren't gaudy or obtrusive, instead delicate and quite beautiful.
The good thing also about looking at jewellery is that the stores are air conditioned, which was a nice change from the balmy 29' degrees outside.
After a while I got bored and weaved my way back around to the other small shops and stores. Alison and Ewan were purchasing various things and I asked for their advice on purchases, specifically if tourists paid ridiculous amounts and whether items here, were in fact, trash.
She looked at me rather funny, but I explained that I wouldn't know a good quality pashmina or shawl from a bad one. Like all markets, she started, there are those who are scamming, but generally here, the items are of pretty good, or 'real' quality.
So I continued perusing through the small streets, at times finding it hard to get past the salesmen and shopkeepers, but the thought of food managed to harden my sensitivity (and made me a tad cranky) towards them. I think the others had similar thoughts, so we headed off for dinner, beyond old Muscat.
It was interesting talking to Ewan and Alison. Clare had mentioned that they resurrected the dive centre in Sur, Oman. So I probed a bit on the subject of diving and have obtained some interesting contacts to help me sit my refresher, on top of my open water certification. This is important as I haven't been diving in, about, 7 years.
Once I've got that, they have offered to take me out, which is fantastic as they extremely knowledgeable on local dive spots and have extensive diving experience here and around the world.
We talked about their teaching jobs here, the lines between culture and discipline and getting a bit more of an understanding on local politics, especially the Sultan. I'll write more about that after I've thought about it a bit more and when I have some time.
Anyway it was a fantastic dinner and they were so incredibly friendly and nice. I'll definitely give them a holler once I'm qualified again, which hopefully be in a week... all going well.
Tuesday was Clare and George's last day, so we headed out to the Old City Gates and Gate Museum.
We got a bit lost on our way out there, but once we found it, Old Muscat was incredibly quiet. I was driving and noticed a large police presence, which I hadn't seen before. There were 'no stopping' cones on each side of the road for about 5 km's and a few locals lining the street, hanging around, as though they were waiting for something, or someone, to come past.
We stopped at a petrol station, filled the car (which cost 3.2 Rials - which equates to about NZ$12!!!!!!) and headed back into old Muscat.
We parked the car at a quiet car park and started walking around. I had my camera with me in my case over my shoulder and behind my bac, so I was looking particularly 'touristy' I guess... Anyway, as we slowly and cautiously made our way around the streets of Old Muscat, I happened upon a large protected gate and three armed guards. I wasn't sure what the entrance was for, but the guards were looking at us quite intently. As this was the case, and me being me, I wandered over, smiling, and asked them if they spoke english. They called one particular guard over (with badges, awards and medals strapped to his uniform) and he asked if he could help.
'Hello! Uhm, we're tourists... just walking around here... it's awfully quiet... why is that?'
He looked at me blankly. I thought I hadn't managed to get my point across terribly well, so I tried paraphrasing, using shorter sentences (which I hate, as I always think I sound so patronising)
'Hi! Why are streets so quiet? Not busy? Lots of Police?'
His ears perked up and he tilted his head slightly.
'Why do you want to know about Police?'
'Oh! We were here last night, driving through and it was busy! I was just curious why it was so quiet and lots of Police......' He continued looking at me, except now with concern and almost a streak of anger. I continued, except now stammering a bit as the other guards were now beginning to circle me. I wasn't sure if it was my paranoia, but I swear they were playing with the safety catches on their rifles...
'Oh, uhm, just..... arrr...... Is it OK that we walk around? I just thought.....well..... I wasn't sure why it was quiet.... I uhh....'
'The Sultan is in the palace today. That's why.' The guard cut in.
'Oh... OK... Is it OK that we still walk around? I... I mean OK I understand...'
'Yes, fine to walk around' he said flatly. 'Where are you from?' he asked, curiously and cautiously.
'Oh! I'm from New Zealand!' (In my worst New Zild accent).
He then looked me the eye, turned around and walked back to the gate, with the guards following him.
I scampered off with my tail between my legs, feeling like a bit of an idiot tourist. But I thought it was probably best to play the dumb-tourist, as I certainly don't want to end up in a cell for asking too many questions.
Well, that day I learned (as Gill had told me) not to ask questions - especially from officials/police/guards.
Heh.
So we continued walking around and saw the back of the palace from the side of the harbour. Sadly I was too petrified to even unholster the camera, let alone take any photos. But it was quite a sight - a man-made harbour, with three gun-turrets strategically placed for protection, sitting in front of the monstrous block that is the palace from the rear. There must have been around 150 rooms. And that was just the view from the back.
I looked out towards the Gulf and could see three boats/ships/whatever - I've been reading that one is a British Cruiser, a US signal boat and the other must have been the Muscat coastguard/Navy. Interesting to see them out, and so close to the coast.
We then headed back up to the Gate Musuem, which by that stage I was on Information Overload as I'm somewhat 'Museumed' out at this stage. So I wasn't really paying attention, but I did press all the buttons and play with the lights.
Coming out of the Museum though, I really could feel the Military/Police presence. On the Museum post alone I spotted 4 along the wall.
I spoke to Gill about it that night and she said she had got stuck in an official cavalcade a few days before. She explained that the government vehicles travel in large groups, line astern, on the roads. And it was quite by accident that she got in the middle of it - as she was going round the roundabout and half pulled out, leaving her to turn off as the rest came in after her. She said it was a bit of a drama as one of the officers in the vehicle in front looked as though he was having a heart attack - realising that some 'western woman' somehow managed to break the ranks and join the official party. But she managed to get out, after traveling quite a way in the wrong direction to which she was going.
Heh. She also mentioned that the roads get shut down, without warning, when the Sultan is 'on the move'. And we experienced that coming back from the Gate Museum - we were on the highway, and then suddenly traffic came to an absolute gridlock, without warning. We sat there for about 15 minutes, watching streams of people running beside the highway (and on the highway - which isn't uncommon here in Muscat), before suddenly being free and able to move again. We looked on, as scores of people were making their way back (again both on and off the road) in the opposite direction to which they were running.... but no accident, no carnage, nothing. So I suspect the Sultan was on the move there....
That night I got a call from Naseeb letting me know that the next day we were off to Wadi Shab and to camp for the night at a white sand beach. Awesome! I began packing my bags and prepping for the adventure that was about to follow.......
'Hello! Uhm, we're tourists... just walking around here... it's awfully quiet... why is that?'
He looked at me blankly. I thought I hadn't managed to get my point across terribly well, so I tried paraphrasing, using shorter sentences (which I hate, as I always think I sound so patronising)
'Hi! Why are streets so quiet? Not busy? Lots of Police?'
His ears perked up and he tilted his head slightly.
'Why do you want to know about Police?'
'Oh! We were here last night, driving through and it was busy! I was just curious why it was so quiet and lots of Police......' He continued looking at me, except now with concern and almost a streak of anger. I continued, except now stammering a bit as the other guards were now beginning to circle me. I wasn't sure if it was my paranoia, but I swear they were playing with the safety catches on their rifles...
'Oh, uhm, just..... arrr...... Is it OK that we walk around? I just thought.....well..... I wasn't sure why it was quiet.... I uhh....'
'The Sultan is in the palace today. That's why.' The guard cut in.
'Oh... OK... Is it OK that we still walk around? I... I mean OK I understand...'
'Yes, fine to walk around' he said flatly. 'Where are you from?' he asked, curiously and cautiously.
'Oh! I'm from New Zealand!' (In my worst New Zild accent).
He then looked me the eye, turned around and walked back to the gate, with the guards following him.
I scampered off with my tail between my legs, feeling like a bit of an idiot tourist. But I thought it was probably best to play the dumb-tourist, as I certainly don't want to end up in a cell for asking too many questions.
Well, that day I learned (as Gill had told me) not to ask questions - especially from officials/police/guards.
Heh.
So we continued walking around and saw the back of the palace from the side of the harbour. Sadly I was too petrified to even unholster the camera, let alone take any photos. But it was quite a sight - a man-made harbour, with three gun-turrets strategically placed for protection, sitting in front of the monstrous block that is the palace from the rear. There must have been around 150 rooms. And that was just the view from the back.
I looked out towards the Gulf and could see three boats/ships/whatever - I've been reading that one is a British Cruiser, a US signal boat and the other must have been the Muscat coastguard/Navy. Interesting to see them out, and so close to the coast.
We then headed back up to the Gate Musuem, which by that stage I was on Information Overload as I'm somewhat 'Museumed' out at this stage. So I wasn't really paying attention, but I did press all the buttons and play with the lights.
Coming out of the Museum though, I really could feel the Military/Police presence. On the Museum post alone I spotted 4 along the wall.
I spoke to Gill about it that night and she said she had got stuck in an official cavalcade a few days before. She explained that the government vehicles travel in large groups, line astern, on the roads. And it was quite by accident that she got in the middle of it - as she was going round the roundabout and half pulled out, leaving her to turn off as the rest came in after her. She said it was a bit of a drama as one of the officers in the vehicle in front looked as though he was having a heart attack - realising that some 'western woman' somehow managed to break the ranks and join the official party. But she managed to get out, after traveling quite a way in the wrong direction to which she was going.
Heh. She also mentioned that the roads get shut down, without warning, when the Sultan is 'on the move'. And we experienced that coming back from the Gate Museum - we were on the highway, and then suddenly traffic came to an absolute gridlock, without warning. We sat there for about 15 minutes, watching streams of people running beside the highway (and on the highway - which isn't uncommon here in Muscat), before suddenly being free and able to move again. We looked on, as scores of people were making their way back (again both on and off the road) in the opposite direction to which they were running.... but no accident, no carnage, nothing. So I suspect the Sultan was on the move there....
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| Old Muscat Gates |
That night I got a call from Naseeb letting me know that the next day we were off to Wadi Shab and to camp for the night at a white sand beach. Awesome! I began packing my bags and prepping for the adventure that was about to follow.......
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