The road out of Muscat to the north west is clear and moving and taking the main highway to Nizwa I discover it to be in excellent condition – almost Autobahn like, except for the speed cameras every kilometre. Initially I was expecting Oman to be an arid desert full of oil pumps; but it’s rich with some amazing sights. At such an early point of the trip I am aghast at the sheer scale of the mountain range I am driving through. The road feels it’s way up and through the range, the sun high on the east and now on my left.
I was surprised to find I could buy petrol today as I assumed that this being Friday, everything would be closed. There doesn’t seem to be anything open apart from the petrol stations, which aren’t busy either. With fuel at seven litres a Rhial you can get your money’s worth and the tank filled for just over a fiver.
Apart from the highway east and south and then one towards UAE this is the only one – primarily to link what was the ancient capital of Muscat – Nizwa.
This is where the highway converts into a single lane tarmac road. I arrive in Nizwa while it’s choked with traffic and somehow end up on a road heading to Bahla. Back into Nizwa and I turn off at the “book roundabout”, and within three hundred yards I am in the centre and spot the only space.
The town is filling up as the two central points in this town are the mosque and the fort. Each draws its own crowd.
Really picked a bad day and the town is filling up with men coming into the mosque for Friday prayers.
Dressed in their finest white dish-dash they arrive in cars, buses, scooters and walking. Before long the cars are all double parked and the mosque has spilled out onto the streets with open pavements being covered with prayer mats and occupants
Walking up past the mosque there is a sea of sandals, just thousands of them placed on the walls, shelves and the floor. It looks like a brown earthy puddle against the clear sandy mosque entrance.
Back on the Bahla road, still not sure where to go or what to see as I have completed almost 200 kilometres since departing this morning.
Spotting a brown road sign on the right indicating Wadi Taruf I follow this until I come upon the old brown remains of the town, Tanuf, sitting at the entrance to the gorge. Bombed by invitation of the Sultan bin Taimur the RAF obliterated the town as a reprisal for the ongoing civil war, Jebel war. The inhabitants fortunately escaped into the gorge and it’s high walled protection.
There are signs of plenty of recent rains as the gorge is green and the water is still held behind the small 2 metre dam.
Further up the Wadi pools of water remain where people, mainly women and children, are picnicking (if there is such a word). Obviously the men folk are all in town at the Mosque.
The Wadi road runs out and now no longer tarmac, it’s a mix of gravel and stones. At points the Wadi is entirely in shade as the sun cannot penetrate the deep chasm, at other points it opens out where the Wadi meets other small gorges. Here the penetrating needles of the gorse which the goats can eat, tear through anything around. High in cliffs are numerous caves where the escaping inhabitants of Tanuf hid on those devastating air raids.
The track slowly worsens with the gravel turning to stones and the stones to small boulders. The 4 wheel drive comes into its own, grinding through the Wadi, eating up the most obvious blockage for any ordinary car. Then it stops, blocked by boulders the size of houses. There is no way that any vehicle could access that. So after 8 kms I have to turn and follow my path back. Needless to say it was much quicker as I had the confidence and could recollect the turns and pitches.
This is one of a hundred of Wadis that run through the Jebel mountain range, each more magnificent than Cheddar Gorge. A venue that David would love to explore with his climbing gear.
Muscat comes alive at night, well nothing is awake between 1 pm and 4 pm, shops shut and the roads are empty. At night everything including cars and shops are alive. All the boys in their clean sharp cars from Toyota Starlets to Mercedes are up and about. Cruising along the causeway between the Crowne Plaza and the beach front, they stop at the parking areas or at the isolated Starbucks. I must get down here during the day to see the view.