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October 15, 2003
The Omani Fort Circuit
Margaret and I met for breakfast around 7:30am before meeting our driver Ali, who would take us on a daytrip to some of Oman's many forts. Forts are to Oman what castles are to Germany; you simply can't drive from point a to point b without stumbling upon some 16th century fortification parked precariously on a stony hillside.
Once in the car, we drove due west past the airport towards Barka, home to a famous fish market and a fort. The highway was dotted with roundabouts, each featuring an amazing clocktower or other edifice constructed for the sultan. Omanis are very proud of their architectural creativity, both in terms of historical constructions and Nouveau Arab architecture, so the clocktowers make for exciting viewing as we head further west. We also passed an enormous, beautiful mosque called al Ghubra -- certainly one of the most amazing I've ever seen. As it turns out this particular mosque is open to tourists for a few hours each day -- perhaps the only one in Oman - but we needed to stick to our timetable if we were to return by sunset. We were covering a lot of ground today.
Heading north off the highway we made the short drive to the coastal town of Barka. Its stout fort sat just off the beach, where an active fish market was taking place. We wandered the market, watching our step as fishmongers cleaned and filleted their catch -- tuna, marlin, swordfish, certainly the most enormous fish I've ever seen at a fishmarket. fortunately we were outside along the beach, otherwise the stench of all the eviscerated fish would probably have been more than I could have tolerated. We were the only westerners present, but no one seemed to mind. People smiled as us, encouraged us to take pictures. A couple of kids wanted 100 baisa each for me to take their photo, but instead I showed them that my digital camera could do a slide show of the pictures I'd just taken, and that was payment enough for them, apparently.
Margaret bought some small bananas and a melon, while I checked out the wide variety of dates for sale. The old men selling the dates each wanted their picture taken, and laughed hysterically when I was able to show it too them immediately on my camera's viewing screen.
Heading over to the fort, we were surprised to get a firm "La" ('no') from the gate attendant. We weren't sure why it was closed so early in the day. As we tried to get an explanation, a British man, apparently an archeologist, came out of the fort with a handful of documents. Apparently the fort had been closed for several months and won't reopen until it's fully renovated. Disappointed, we went outside and appreciated the view from afar. Meanwhile, the archeaologist got on his mobile phone and called the head of the local ministry to see if we could gain access. He came over to us and apologized, and explained that we wouldn't be allowed in, mainly due to insurance reasons. We thanked him for the effort and returned to Ali and the car.
We drove for about 45 minutes through bone-dry hillsides, with more dramatic mountains from the Jebel Akhdar range looming 3000 meters upward to our left. We arrived in Nakhal, a well-to-do village famous for its fort and its hot springs. Visiting the springs first, we arrived in a lush oasis with a rocky stream running through its center. The area was decorated like a nice little park, with umbrella picnic tables and little waterfalls coming down the hillside. The water was pleasantly warm, so you could see why it was a popular spot to hang out and take a dip. Further up the stream we found a flock of goats perched along the hillside. The goats were so accustomed to people we were able to walk right through the flock, marveling at their ability to stand on even the smallest rock, wall or ledge. My favorite goat was standing on a boulder on which someone had spraypainted the name Bob.
Leaving the hot springs and the goat named Bob behind, we returned to the car for the short drive to nakhal fort; unfortunately Margaret got stung by a wasp along the way. Ali found a lime tree and squeezed the lime juice onto the bite; amazingly the juice actually helped ease the sting.
We soon arrived at Nakhal fort. Perhaps the most dramatic fort I've ever seen, the imposing structure was balancing atop a boulder-strewn hillside. It was reminiscent of Hosap Castle in Turkish Kurdistan, which Susanne and I had visited in '99, but this particular fort had also been restored to its original condition, repaired with a fresh paint of adobe. We paid the 500 baisa fee and went inside. Apart from a German family and their three kids, we had the entire for to ourselves -- all four stories of it. We spent the hour going from room to room, marveling at the restoration work the Omani government had recently completed. Each room was decorated with traditional furniture, so whether you were in the governor's bedroom, the meeting parlour, or the prison, you got a taste for what it was like back in the 17th century. Up at the top, we had a commanding view of the countryside and the Jebel Akhdar mountains -- it must have been good to be the governor here.
Leaving the castle, we briefly stopped for some bottled water before continuing our drive to a-Rustaq, a larger town famous for its fort as well. Rustaq was a fairly modern city now, with small shopping malls and beautiful, new mosques, but its fort was still the main attraction. While not as dramatic on the outside as Nakhal's, this fort was more impressive for its inside, with giant vaulted ceilings and dramatic natural lighting. Its highlight was probably the prison; a tall, donut-shaped room, it now had a door on the side so you could enter it. Originally, though, the prison had no door -- only a hole in the roof 25 feet up, where prisoners would be lowered in and sealed for months, sometimes years, with food and water lowered in by rope. No wonder the crime rate was so low.
Outside the fort, we made a brief stop at yet another hotspring, this one bubbling up from an underground cave next to a mosque. From the top of the hole you could see boiling water bubbles rising to the surface. About 20 feet away, there was a set of stairs you could walk down to bath in the water. We put our hands in the water - it was nearly scalding hot. Ali was brave enough to put his feet in it, but he could only manage to for about a minute.
We stopped at an indian restaurant for lunch, where we had platters of biryani with chicken and fish. Ali, to our surprise, started to speak Hindi to the waiters -- apparently he spoke Hindi and Farsi as well as Arabic and English.
From Rustaq, we made the long drive back to the coast, where we stopped along the the Batinah shore, not far from Sawadi island. The island, a limestone hulk jutting out of the water, featured an old fort on its cliff. When the tide was low you could wade across the 300 meters to reach the island. The tide was indeed low, but we weren't dressed for the part, so instead we went hunting for sea shells, which were plentiful along the shore.
We returned to Muscat, pausing briefly at the al Ghubra mosque to take pictures at sunset. Back in Muttrah, we were horrified to discover that Ali expected 50 rials for our trip, despite my repeated efforts to clarify the price as 15, not 50. I thought I'd even written it down at the time and shown him, but exhausted from the heat and jetlag, perhaps I made a fundamental error. Either way, we weren't going to shirk him, but we weren't going to hire him for a second day either, something we'd just been contemplating. So our day trip ended on a down note, and I felt somewhat dumb about the whole thing. But as we ate dinner along the corniche, we joked about the mistake and concluded that everything we saw today was well worth the expense. -ac
Posted by acarvin at October 15, 2003 10:12 AM
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