My Budget trip to Muscat gone over board

Muscat is a small city lying along the coast of Oman. The city is covered with roughly shaped mountains and elegant Islamic architecture. Muscat is one of the thriving capitals of the world where high rises have really not reached. Houses are still the traditional type along tiny and well connected pathways but confusing enough for the average traveler to get lost. The city is filled with Omani’s (the locals), Indians (mainly Keralites), Bangladeshis, Pakistanis and couple of other nationalists.

This article will revolve around my personal trip in Muscat; the fun I have had and list of precautions one should take on trip like this.

Time of Visit: Eid break I took from office (October).

Currency for Expense : Major- Omani Riyal in denominations of 1, 5, 10,20,50,100 , Minor- Baisa in denominations of 25,50,100,500.

1 OMR = 111 Rupees = 9.5 AED = $ 2.6

Day 1 (October 1, 2008)

I started my trip at 7 am from home in hurry to catch a flight at the Sharjah International Airport to Muscat at 8 am. It’s a 1 hour flight to Muscat and the city looks boring from the top with brick and mud houses painted in white.

With a little research on Google managed to figure out that inexpensive hotels can be found near Muttrah Round About. The drive from the Al Seeb International Airport is about 40 Km, takes 20 minutes and costs about 9 OMR. A friendly taxi driver (mind it they all are friendly when they are paid what they ask for) whose speedometer needle never fell below 120km/hr took me Muttrah Round About and was with me till I found a hotel room. After surveying the over booked Corniche, Al Mina, Al Marina, Fanar hotel I finally took shelter in a culturally decorated Naseem Hotel with the help of Sam (the Keralite hotel manager), who advised me to stay in hope a Pilipino was leaving and would vacate my room of two nights. He asked me to hand over my passport to him for the details; when I asked for it back made me pay my 30 OMR in advance to be safe on his front. At the reception I met Dr. Kattan, an Iraqi Nationalist and Ex Director of Graduate Program - Engineering Systems and Management of the American University and thanks to the book I was reading I could speak, connect and understand what the Doctor was really saying. He was there a day earlier with his wife, daughter and a son who suggested Ruwi was a nice place to visit.

My hotel room had a neat double bed, a desk to read, warm lights, and a 1985 Toshiba TV connected to a digital receiver (my only source of idiotic visual entertainment for the next two nights). After a quick refreshing bath I head straight for lunch to fast food joint. Lunch at fast food joints really isn’t one should have on trips like these but seeing a couple of foreigners sipping juices offered in huge glasses I couldn’t really resist the temptation. I bought myself a medium sized Mix Fruit juice with Chicken Egg Cheese Omlette Burger costing me 1 OMR 900 Baisa (will be referred in the form of 1.9 OMR ahead). I spent the rest of my afternoon in bed waiting for the sun to get cold and set in the water front right opposite my hotel.

Evening I change into comfortable shorts with sneakers on and go for a 1.5 km walk along the coast shifting my eye from the clear waters on the left and 100 ft ranges on the right. Muscat has an open port and containers docked bring in mainly cars like the Land Cruiser, Corvette, Toyota (the city favorite), Mazda, Hummer, Porsche etc. There is a small ride park made by carving and smoothening one of the mountains for the children with decent rides for kids aged 10-16 years. Evening was again spent in the same food joint but this time with a huge glass of Grape juice (1.5 OMR). Early dinner was shortly followed at a local restaurant - Hummous, Kapus (local bread), delicious Chicken roasted leg and a salad entirely costing just 1.1 OMR. I take my regular post dinner walk eating chana. The rest of the time is spent seeing CNN with bombing news somewhere, an update on Somali pirates, an unnecessary quick relief 700 Billion Dollar bail-out plan proposed for the US banks and then The Rocketeer on Fox Movies (a yester year fictional movie of a flying man with combustible rockets as back packs which more is a reality today).

Day 2 (October 2, 2008)

Today began early at 6 am with a walk along the water front and a live view of the Battle of Sexes between egg laying crabs. Crabs were climbing up the bank wall of Muttrah and laying tiny white eggs in the sea bed. There was a point when two crabs crossed the same path leading to a tussle causing one of them to lose balance and fall in the water, the fallen one climbs again and continues. There were steps going down to the sea bed to get closer to the crabs but a group of 10 crabs and a hungry stomach made me retrace my steps and head back to the hotel.

After an expensive English breakfast of toast, omlette and tea (1.2 OMR) I took a local transport (200 Baisa) to Madinat Al Qaboos mosque – it contains the world’s largest single piece of Persian Carpet capable of seating 6000 people at any time. Sultan Qaboos is the ruler of Oman. I was so mesmerized by this mosque that I forgot to visit the Alam (Royal) Palace and the Al Merani & Al Jalani twin forts which I really do regret.

On my return ride to the hotel I stopped by at Ruwi (little India of Muscat) giving me a feeling for the first time that I was in a city; holding the Muscat Securities Market, Ernst and Young office and a couple of prominent corporate offices and malls. After a regular boring brunch at KFC, I took a taxi back to a shut fish market at Muttrah Souq which looked no different than the standard Indian fish market. Again heading to the Fast food joint and this time with another Mix Fruit Juice doubled with Ice cream.

After a 2 hour nap I take a sharing taxi to Qantab Beach at 5pm in hope for a swim. Seeing the crowd I get intimidated and wonder where so many people turn up from suddenly. The overall cleanliness was commendable which one can never expect in any Indian beach. The funniest part was Indians formed a major set on the beach. To avoid the crowd I head straight to the one end of the beach, climb the rocky terrain and sit above at 40 ft on uneven surface matching my Khaki pants staring at the beautiful island the size of an iceberg filled with houses. It was painful to see how badly human intervention has made a mark in this city so mild, quiet and peaceful.

It turns dark pondering, realizing which I start making my way back to the coffee shop where I quench my thirst with Masafi (mineral water available in UAE). I call Abdul, my taxi driver of from Muttrah to Qantab and for 3 OMR he agrees to drop me back to the hotel.

After a quick shower I head straight to Ramee Guestline Hotel and enter the Rock Bottom Café (15 OMR for couples/singles). Suresh Gonzalvez, 32 is the Keralite bar tender whom I trust after a 5 minute conversation and handover some OMR bills and ask him to refill till I go rock bottom on my credit. A firangi band play soulful English music in three shifts taking breaks for people to digest the music and give the DJ a chance to play some standard hippie tracks. After a couple of drinks and little bit of coaxing Nichola, the brunette Lebanese band vocalist agrees to play me the last song of the evening - Hotel California which made my stiff body dance at the bar. They do have a community on Facebook but assume Tony the electric guitarist couldn’t pronounce that very well.

The DJ goes on till 3 am and I sit in one corner, watching a couple married for not less than 50 years dance Congo style to foot tapping music which was nowhere in sync. J This makes go to the floor and just shake my head. I was taken by surprise when two Koreans wanted to dance. I offered them a smile, did a quick Bhangra move and headed straight to the bar to avoid any unpleasantness.

I take a cab back to my hotel quietly agreeing to the price the driver suggests and head straight to bed after changing the shirt smelling of tobacco from the innumerous drunkards making me passively smoke.

Day 3 (October 3, 2008)

It starts as expected late at 10 am and I land up in Qurm Beach with the help of the local transport. I change into beach shorts there and enter the warm waters. The floor bed was knee deep at all times till 30metres inside away from the beach but still never managed to reach waist deep water. I get tired of trying to go further into the sea and try to enjoy myself in the calm waters. One of the travelers teaches me to lie dead on my back on water. After a relaxing time in the water for about an hour and a half I buy myself Strawberry and Vanila icecream and leave for home; rather I call it the hotel.

Lunch today is Chicken Biryani and Shari fish fry at another local restaurant. I check out the hotel as promised at 2 pm; Sam prepares my bill, returns me the passport, offers me Omani Halwa from his share and the taste tempts me to wait back at the reception to pick up some of the delicious Halwa when the Souq opens at 4. I while away time listening to my favorite tracks on my Sony MP3.

After some leather purchase, post cards and souvenirs for family, I rush to purchase Omani Halwa (2 OMR) at the fruit market just at the other end. I pick up two varieties one made of Black sugar and the other of white. I sit in a sharing mini van driven by boy who looks no more than 18 years for a 40 km ride to the airport for an agreed price of 600 Baisa. He picks and drops people at various points just like a normal mature taxi driver and treats Bengalis (Bangali is what it sounds like) a little harshly. For company I have a Pakistani trailer driver sitting beside me wearing a prominent red stone ring with Muslim hat heading back to his labor camp at Seeb. After a couple of stops and a 45 min ride I reach the airport, and pay of the boy and he leaves greeting Salaam Valequm. I reply saying Walequm Asalam.

At the airport after making quick calls with balance from a 2 OMR pay phone card, I meet two pretty girls - an Indonesian and Indian at the food counter at Papa Johns. My flight being the earlier one I parcel the meal and board in at 8:00 pm. My pilot was a woman from Spain and the crew attendant smiled at me reassuring it is absolutely safe to which I smiled and said nothing (as reassurance was not needed).

I smile again to see familiar faces on the flight (maximum were the ones who flew with me from Sharjah to Muscat) and meet a careful and intimidated Barclays Retail Banking executive, Indian with an accent sounding like an American’s, who also happened to be at Rock Bottom Café the previous night who had seemed to have a nice evening with his companion.

I order myself a coke on the flight to go along with my meal and before I am finished the crew inform all (courteous attendants do the formalities) except me to prepare for landing. I am sure it must have been my sleeveless shirt which made them think I was a regular flyer and used to this.

At Dubai Immigration instead of standing in the scary long line I head straight to Duty free and pickup a couple of things for office fellows and join the line which by now looks shorter for Passport stamping and feel bad that I am back in Dubai (even though it precisely 2 months 3 weeks old).

Outside I see colleagues, Shankar and Rajesh waiting for me and we head straight to home after refueling at a fuel station.

This journey is one of my bravest things I have done to date where I have argued with the Dubai Immigration, lost my return tickets (procured it, with giving access to mails to a friend, courtesy Kedar), traveled to unfamiliar land and made friends with people who in my country are hated. This experience will not remain too long in memory lane as I am planning more like this soon, but to other places.

Till then, plan this trip out with spending more time in the city!