OMAN: Between sands and ocean

By Enrico Bo

Another s-guide to travel that the author uses as an excuse to narrate his time spent in Oman, an extraordinary country balanced between sea and desert. Here, he seeks the people who inhabit it, their habits, coasts, and lighthouses. Its architecture reminiscent of tales from One Thousand and One Nights. Alongside the classic directions for trip planning, it also offers tales, encounters, impressions, emotions, and experiences gathered firsthand. A read more than a mere reference. The book also features several photos by the author.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9781446777213

Book preview

The Fake Travel Guides

J

ENRICO  BO

OMAN

Between sands and ocean

Edizioni e-BO

The cover photo

and those inside are by the author.

©2023 – Enrico Bo. All rights reserved

First edition – May 2019

English edition – August 2023

ISBN: 978-1-4467-7721-3

These and other stories on: www.ilventodellest.blogspot.com

To Iapo and all

the friends of Casa Oman

who introduced me to this country

The red sand

It overlooks the sea

Ancient balcony

Preparations

Well, enough of lying on the beach, waiting for the evening to come. It's too convenient to take it easy. Let's say tomorrow is the limit. We still have a long way to go to get back home, two or three days, you could call it a stretch, an excuse to prolong the time for those who just don't feel like going back home and want to extend their vacation as much as possible, as if I'm not always on vacation anyway, just to make the usual annual visit to my beloved Douce France, in some still undiscovered little place. I was thinking about the Vercors Park near Drôme, just so no one can say I'm just a retired beach bum. And then we need to get going because time is running out and we'll be leaving in a few days. I must say I can't contain my excitement about heading to this place, this new destination. It has been on my mind for a while now, and now that the suitcases are practically ready, packed even before leaving the Côte, we just need to hit the road to the airport and hop on the plane that's about to take off. Light suitcases since it'll be warm there, and besides, we have less time than usual, so just the essentials. Travel in total comfort because there are people waiting for me down there who will take care of me. Well, at least it should all be under control and problem-free. It's a world that has always fascinated me, precisely because of its solitary and empty allure, despite being faced with another void, that vast expanse of boundless water, so captivating for someone like me who hates boundaries. Even my idol Marco (Polo) passed through there a long time ago, and perhaps back then there was more activity in those parts. In fact, in the 13th century, it was one of the crossroads of the world, just as it had been in the Roman imperial era, on the spice and incense route, you know, no big deal. But I don't think all that traffic left many traces, just like in other places.

I'm not sure if it will be as relaxing as I think. Well-deserved breaks are planned, but trouble always seems to find me even when unnecessary. This time, it should be a calmer experience, with endless landscapes, sunsets painting the skies, beach barbecues, castle ruins, and quaint white villages. We'll see. It will be another new experience, full of expectations, and I'll keep you informed as always. It'll be my 108th country, just for statistics' sake. A number that doesn't say much, but it means a lot to me. We're delivering the final blows, superstitiously, hoping for a few more punches. Truth be told, everything is already prepared here, and there's very little to get ready since someone else in the family takes care of the practical stuff. But I must confess, I'm already preparing for the 109th trip. It was supposed to be at the end of October, but it got canceled, postponed to who knows when, maybe next May. Instead, it was replaced with something much more thrilling in January, and the itinerary is already taking shape. It's a bit more complex this time, and I can confirm that I've already made the first contacts. We're starting to build something exciting, and if conditions permit, it should be another very interesting adventure. But for superstitious reasons, I don't want to talk about it too much yet. For now, let's focus on this one.       

Deserted beach

They graze the surface

Proud feet

Applying for a Visa

Traveling is getting more complicated by the day. Guess what? Now they don't grant visas upon arrival at the airport anymore, oh no! We have to do everything online in advance. And let me tell you, it's not as easy as it sounds. My buddies, who have fingers as clumsy as mine and struggle with PC keys, had to turn to a fancy agency (not in Italy, mind you) to get their India visas. It cost them a whopping 361 Euros for the two of them, just to give you an idea. As for me, I sat down yesterday at 9:00 a.m., all fired up, and finished at... 11:00 a.m. A solid two hours of work to get those precious pieces of paper that we need to show at the airport. Of course, I had to have passports and photos ready and scanned, along with credit card, PIN, password, and all that jazz. But hey, can't all these tech geniuses and startups come up with some nifty apps to make this digital ordeal a bit more user-friendly? I'm telling you, they would make a fortune. Instead, we're stuck with these cursed government websites that seem designed to confuse, mislead, and frustrate us. The correct path is always hidden deep within the labyrinth of their homepages. And just when you think you're making progress, everything crashes and you're back to square one. Nothing gets saved, so you have to type it all over again. And let's not forget about the long strings of numbers and letters you have to input manually. One wrong move and you risk paying for nothing, because, of course, every payment is non-refundable. It's like throwing money into a black hole. And if that's not enough, you might even stumble upon one of those shady fake sites that gobble up your cash and vanish into thin air. First, you have to sign up and come up with a new password. And just like that social media joke, your suggestions are never good enough. It needs a bunch of characters, including at least one uppercase letter, one special character, and a whole lot of frustration. Oh well, let's not dwell on that. The good news is, I'm done with all that now. I just need to make a quick stop at Decathlon to grab a few things for my adventurous endeavors. Don't worry, I always fall for their temptations. Then I can proudly say I'm ready, well, almost ready. There's always that nagging voice in the back of your mind, reminding you of the essential things you might have forgotten. But hey, once you hear the engines roaring and the wheels leaving the runway, all worries fade away. Here I come, Iapo!

On the blue sea's wave

White sandy beach glistens bright -

Distant mountains stand

What's Missing?

Isn't it funny how, when you have to pack in a rush before a trip, even though you've done it a hundred times and you're the supreme organizer with handy checklists to make it easier, you still end up searching and not finding what you need? I'm not saying everything should already be neatly packed, from medicines to electronic gadgets, photographic and climbing gear, clothes, shoes, and whatnot, but at least not having to go crazy looking for the same things every time! The problem is always the same in the end: you never know where you put them last time you used them, and tired and a bit down after the trip, you just dumped them somewhere, and of course, you don't remember where. Where did the emergency charger, the UK plug, and lens cleaning wipes go? And the head torches? Not to mention the Imodium, that's essential. Instead of reading the guide pages I diligently downloaded, I have to tear the house apart because I wasn't tidy enough when I last got back.

Then there's the anxiety of forgetting things, and of course, you always end up forgetting something, and naturally, it's the one thing you'll need this time, while all the others will just weigh down your backpack. There's a list for this too, but somehow, there will always be that little thing you said, I must remember to bring that if that thing happens, and now you can't recall it, and you'll have to wait until the moment the wheels leave the ground to remember, there it is, I forgot it. Money, tickets, passports, photocopies, credit cards, parking vouchers, 2 photos, and then? I'm anxious. Well, let's let it settle for a moment, it's like when you're stuck on a Sudoku and can't move forward. Leave it for now, pick it up tomorrow, and that combination you didn't see before will jump right out at you, even though it was right in front of you, like Poe's letter. Anyway, we'll think about it tomorrow.

Looking all around,

Sometimes quite uncomfortable,

Enjoying the journey.

The Return Syndrome

And here we are, back home, the trip is over, things, thoughts, emotions, to be cataloged, filed on the shelves of the mind. A few days to recover from the physical fatigue of having fun, oh yes, having fun gets more tiring every year, and then, once you've dealt with the various pending matters that await you on the table and in the mailbox, ready to drive you crazy as soon as you open the front door, you must begin, as I'm used to doing, to put in black and white, or at least that's what they used to say, what you manage to materialize from this experience, which, in fact, I'm already doing.

I just reread it; I wonder why my prose is so convoluted, full of digressions and subclauses, almost as if it's deliberately meant to tire the potential reader and discourage them from continuing? Cicero-like, perhaps, eh! Exactly the opposite of what's prescribed for writing on the web, where it seems almost impossible to capture the attention of someone who lands on the page beyond the third paragraph. Yet, without invoking the keyboard gurus, my Italian teacher used to tell me the same things: simplify, break down sentences, prefer coordinates over subordinates, after all, you won't become the new Manzoni, my dear little hack writer. But what if I like expressing myself in this way or at least, it's the only way I know how to do it? I'll keep going my way like any average Joe, confident in my insane certainties, after all, I'm not ruining the country this way, am I?

Anyway, back on track, this trip is over, and I have to put it away. However, the first thought that comes to mind is that the more I travel the world, the less I find reasons to be disappointed by what I see. Everything seems beautiful, exciting, surpassing expectations. But logically, as I gradually visit the most beautiful or interesting places on the planet, which are obviously the ones you tend to see first, there should be more room for disappointment or at least a decrease in enthusiasm due on one hand to a natural decrease in encountering unique and exceptional things or situations, and on the other hand, to a predictable habituation to beauty, the exotic, and empathy. Instead, it seems to be happening the other way around.

Once, I used to be more critical, but now very little disturbs my satisfaction. In fact, appreciating the little things seems to grant me even greater pleasures. There are two possibilities: either I'm saving the best for last, or old age, instead of making me more bitter like the usual jealous elder longing for lost youth, has completely softened my soul. I don't know, the fact is that once again, I came back enthusiastic about this experience, which I would wholeheartedly recommend to all my followers. I'd say it's a perfect and comprehensive two-week break for what you aim for when preparing this type of trip. The enveloping and unusual nature, the intertwining of sea, mountains, and wadis make it truly unique.

It involves immersing yourself in a culture of great interest, being willing to delve into it to understand its nuances, and surely seeking a travel solution that allows for a proper connection with the people, who are always extremely willing to involve you. The cuisine is especially peculiar, ancient, and essential, and surprisingly captivating and convincing, even for me, who isn't very fond of Eastern flavors (odd, right, considering how attached I am to them).

And lastly, meeting new friends, interesting and delightful people with whom you enjoyed spending time and sharing laughter. Yes, I truly had a great time. Oman is a country that deserves to be seen and known as much as possible. To do so, you must be willing to put in some effort, even physically. There's no point in trying to solve everything while spending fifteen days lounging under an umbrella. So, if you want to enjoy it, as always, you have to work for it, but then you're happy.

Hence, I passed the test with flying colors, with an academic embrace because this country deserves it. Without adding anything unnecessary, this was the 108th country on my list. Naturally, in the next chapters, I'll do my best to tell you what I brought home, inside me - that invaluable wealth that will remain with you forever, and that no thieves or buyers can ever take away from you because it has become a part of your being, except for that damn Alzheimer's, always lurking, insatiably greedy for memories, invented by that malevolent god who managed to create the most severe punishment of all: erasing emotions.

Above the couch's rest,

Shisha smoke swirls gently,

New friends, moments blessed.

Oman at Casa Oman

Well, after dealing with the most pressing issues, here I am finally in front of the keyboard to delve deeper into the topic. You've been waiting for this, I know. It's not just a ploy to make the article longer and increase page count, but making you wait a bit seems to fuel curiosity, so I'll oblige. But let's start from the beginning and the prime reason why my finger stopped on that piece of geography where Oman was written on a rather homogenous surface. We need to go back in time a bit. After our experience in Yemen in 1975, one of the best in our lives, my GS (Gentle Spouse) began subtly dropping hints that her decisions, cunningly presented as mine, included the idea that maybe, just maybe, neighboring Oman could offer similar points of interest, given how enthusiastic we were about Yemen. Then, life's events, other pressing interests, and the silly overconfidence of the male who craves dominance kept pushing this plan further into the future, where it remained in a drawer, along with many others, sadly some no longer achievable. A word of advice: do everything you can while you still can!

So here we are, 43 years later, revisiting the idea of an itinerary in this corner of desert lost beneath the Rub al Khali, examining its feasibility. I must say that seeing this country the way I want to, trying to go beyond the superficial landscapes and monuments as much as possible, is not that easy, and I'll tell you why. Oman is a rich and dear country, where living and getting around come at different costs compared to the Eastern places we are used to. The reason being, it benefits from oil and has a calm and enlightened political situation, resulting in widespread and homogeneous prosperity for the population. Consequently, it hasn't shown much interest in developing tourism, especially mass tourism, which yields little and only creates chaos – something the Omanis, laid-back and content in their millennium-old tranquility, dislike immensely. They have decided, in essence, to avoid becoming like Thailand, Bali, or the Maldives, swarmed by hordes of shouting Chinese tourists or penny-pinching Europeans, who dirty the place and bring minimal benefits to the locals or fill job positions that could only be taken by new immigrants – who, by the way, are currently not needed and could lead to dangerous changes in lifestyle and traditions, something they're not interested in giving up at the moment.

Therefore, the available options to visit the country are currently only luxurious resorts and large hotels where you can be confined, indulging in the luxuries of a beautiful sea, cocktails with umbrellas, and alcohol at your disposal, which tourists love even though it has nothing to do with this country, with occasional outings to see the unique beauty and panoramas from a bird's-eye view. As you can imagine, besides the exorbitant cost, this doesn't satisfy my underlying interests. Another feasible and somewhat less expensive option is a DIY approach, renting a 4x4 (mandatory for seeing the most interesting things), planning a complete tour, and seeking the lowest available range of hotels, which generally still cost over €100 per night. All doable, thanks to bilingual road signs that are somewhat few and occasionally vague but understandable, and the overall sense of safety while traveling. However, I've found that while it may be easy to reach points of interest, it's more complex to navigate the locations, which often involve walking specific paths without the assistance of someone (who can be found, but at Western prices, around 60 Omani Rials per day) to guide you on the right trails, requiring meticulous trip planning. In this case, unless you have chance encounters, it remains difficult to have real contact with the local reality and population, which, for me, remains one of the key points of a journey.

Even when turning to local agencies, I noticed that costs remain high, and the tendency is to slot you into a standard hit-and-run tour. Serendipity and the much-maligned web have led me to the perfect choice that aligns with my needs. The contact and knowledge of Casa Oman came to me through word of mouth from one of the many traveler groups on Facebook. It may be considered an anomaly in the region, as I'm not aware of any similar initiatives. So, it