Oman's first Gulf Cup victory

Steffen and I never made it to an Oman soccer game. It just got too crazy as they neared the finals and there was no way to get in unless you camped out all day. We were definitely fans though, and we made it known. I know that I got plenty of great reactions from people when I wore my jersey, even learning to say "Yullah Oman!" (Let's go, Oman!). 

Here is a picture of the guy that my jersey was a replica for (in red, trying to punch the other guy in the nuts):

Me, in white, always trying to defend my nuts from Steffen's punches: 

We watched two of their matches on TV, one in a hotel in Nizwa with the hotel staff and the other at a Shisha bar in Muscat. 

Shisha: (fruit tobacco is used (which smells amazing, by the way), not weed)

It was fun to watch in both cases, in Nizwa because the staff was so excited we got free sodas and had elaborate toasts and cheers for Oman, and in Muscat because that was the championship game which Oman won in a sudden death shoot out. It was very exciting! They were tied after the first five shots, when the Saudi player missed his shot on the sixth they crowd went crazy. But it wasn't over, the Omani had to make his shot. He did, and the entire country exploded in celebration. Not to mention that the Sultan gave everyone a day off the next day to celebrate. It was the first time that Oman had ever won the Gulf Cup, and I'm pretty sure that it means they are automatically in the World Cup now. For such a small country, it was huge. 

I still think soccer is kind of boring, but I appreciate the passion that fans have in places like Oman. Maybe the US will have that kind of passion someday, but I still probably wouldn't watch anything but maybe the World Cup. And if only for moments like this:

OWNED!

Iraq/Kuwait in the Gulf Cup

Oman was hosting the Gulf Cup right around the time we arrived in Muscat. The Gulf Cup is a tournament of all of the Gulf states soccer teams. Oman was dong pretty well at the time, they were undefeated, so Steffen and I got caught up in Oman soccer fever. We both bought Oman jerseys and planned on going to their next game. 

Being that this was early in our trip, we weren't very good with directions and locations in Muscat. It's a big, spread out city, and we just knew a few landmarks. We got on a minibus in Mutrah, just outside of the Finar hotel. We took that bus to Ruwi (fortunately just to the edge of Ruwi, not deepest darkest Ruwi) where there was a major minibus and taxi place. Steffen went around looking for a taxi willing to take us to the game which was set to start in just 30 minutes or so. He called me over to the cab of this little tiny dude. After some haggling, this guy was giving us a deal on our trip. 

As we drove to the game, Steffen and the driver chatted in Arabic. I obviously didn't understand anything, but soon Steffen turned to me in the back seat and whispered, "I don't think this guy is from here, he doesn't seem to know where the stadium is." This concerned me a little. The Arab cup was all anyone was talking about, how could any taxi driver, even one that had only been on the job a short time, not know where the stadium was? It was free to get into the games (yes, free, to all of the Arab cup games), tons of people had to have been going there! Steffen said, "He keeps asking me if I know how to get there. It's weird." That should have been our big tip off that something was going on, but what could we do at that point? Anyway, we eventually saw the stadium on the horizon, huge stadium lights lit up the night. The little dude dropped us well away from the stadium, on the edge of a dirt parking lot. He gestured in the direction of the stadium and then asked Steffen for more money. Uhhh, no. So we started hiking over to the game, wondering why he dropped us where he did and then watching him drive in the direction of the stadium anyway. It was weird.

We found a gate guarded by a few soldiers. We got the customary pat down and made our way into the stadium. I expected to see the entire city of Muscat there, but instead it looked like this:

 

Nearly empty. Just a few hundred fans. That's a little weird, we said. Steffen talked to one of the guards standing at the entrance and found out that we had been taken to the other stadium in town, the one that was holding the Iraq/Kuwait match-up. Basically the little dude had screwed us over and not taken us to the Oman game like he was supposed to. That's why he kept asking us if we knew where the stadium was, to see if we would notice the fast one he was pulling. The Oman game was in the large Sultan Qaboos stadium, well on the other side of town, while this game was a little closer (and less of a drive for him). 

Steffen and I fumed for a minute or so, then realized that we had been had by a little scrawny taxi-driving bastard, and laughed. We decided to root for Iraq, and sat in their vocal section of the stadium. 
I don't remember much about the game, except all the yelling. Steffen bought an Iraqi flag to wave. I took some pictures of the game:

At half time we decided to bust out. I know that I had gotten my fill of soccer. Unfortunately once we were outside the stadium we couldn't find any cabs or mini-buses. The side of the highway that we were on was going the wrong way. So, in the dark of night, we crossed about 8 lanes of high speed (70+ mph) traffic. It was a long and scary process of trying to judge which gaps in traffic were large enough to risk running through. But we made it, and got home before the Oman game ended, pouring tens of thousands of people onto the streets. It was a good night, Oman won! We knew that because the people were going crazy on the streets after we got back to the hotel, horns sounded and people were cheering. 

It turns out that the taxi driver probably did us a favor. We found out later that the stadium for the Oman match had filled up five or so hours before the game started. There was no way that we could have gotten anywhere near the game at the time we were trying. At least this way we got to see a little soccer action and not have to fight the crowds. So take that, little tiny taxi driver!

Our first weeks in Oman

First of all, here is a map showing just where Oman is in the world.

It's on the edge of the Arabian peninsula, bordered by the United Arab Emirates, Yemen and Saudi Arabia. It's capital city is Muscat, the place in Oman where I spent nearly my entire trip. 

 

Here are two rough street maps of Muscat (click to enlarge either of them):

Muscat isn't one continuous city, its more like many smaller cities that are linked up by the Sultan Qaboos Highway (which is the main route through town).  It's sort of odd driving through a capital city that has so many areas that are undeveloped because of terrain. You literally transition to different parts of the city through passes in the rugged hills, going from one part of town to the next with only the highway connecting them. Steffen said that the passes used to be how invading tribes from the inland would try to attack Muscat in the past. Those once useful defenses are now a hinderance to development. 

Steffen and I met in the airport after we arrived, I was just a few minutes behind him coming out of security. It was good to see a friendly face after so many hours of traveling. I was definitely a minority in Seeb International Airport and the sounds of Arabic washed over me. It was night and I was a little disoriented. Steffen grabbed us a taxi, and soon we were driving all the way across Muscat to Mutrah (or Muttrah), the port area of the city. Mutrah is in the far NE corner of Muscat, and is one of the older parts of Muscat. We passed the Sultan Qaboos Mosque, a large structure lit up at night:

 The Lonely Planet recommended the Naseem Hotel, at only 20 dinars a night it was a "steal!" It actually wasn't all that bad, and it was right on the corniche (which is what they call water front roads).

Mutrah from the hills above

The next morning we were up and at it pretty early, trying to fight off jet lag. Our first destination was the Mutrah Souq, (souq = market). This tunnel-like market place was covered from the elements and packed with shop after shop of trinkets and do-dads. Some specialized in jewelry, others in fabric, still others in frankincense (yeah, like the stuff in the Bible). Not to mention tons of other things you never knew existed and probably don't care that they do.

Part of the ceiling of the Souq

More of the ceiling

Steffen and I spent a good chunk of the day looking for places to eat and kinda browsing through the junk that was for sale. Then something strange happened, all of the shops started to close. It was like 1 pm, prime shopping time in my opinion. It turns out that Omani shops (not the large chain stores however) close during the hottest parts of the day, from 1 until 4. Even in the dead of winter (which it was in January and February - a chilly 75 degrees during the day!) they still close up and go home for 3+ hours. We were a little surprised by this, but took the time as an opportunity to walk down the corniche to old Muscat (the region of greater Muscat which houses a bunch of the government buildings) where the entire region got its name. This is where the Sultan's palace is located. It didn't seem that far on the map, but in practice it was quite a jaunt. My little feetsies hadn't worn sandals in months, leaving them torn up by the harsh straps as we walked. I soon developed some hard calluses, but that first week was murder.

It was a scenic walk along the coastline. On the hills stood the famous watchtowers that seemed to dot just about every other hill in Muscat. It was a reminder of the invaders throughout history in this region of the world. Soon we passed through the gates of Muscat and were on our way to the Sultan's palace.

The Sultan's Palace is a unique looking building, unlike anything I've ever seen before. It is flanked by numerous government buildings and has a long boulevard leading to it.

The day that Steffen and I were there, we saw a guy with one of those big floor polishing machines working on the marble along the parade ground. For outdoor marble, that's pretty serious maintenance.

One of the funniest things I noticed about the Sultan's Palace is the front gate's intricate lock. It appears to be a bike lock, check it out:

No doubt there are more defenses than this lone lock, such as the numerous guards around, but it's still kinda funny. I've been to Buckingham Palace - where the queen of England lives, and her front gate was a little more hefty than the same sized lock I use on my Schwinn. 

We hiked back to our hotel, both of our feet a little worse for wear. A few nights later we moved farther down the Corniche to the Finar Hotel, a relative steal at only 15 rials a night. What does 5 extra rials a night buy you (the Naseem was 20 rials)? Well, for one it buys you a tub to shower in. And a toilet seat. And includes toilet paper. And clean sheets every morning. The Finar lacked all of these things. The beds were ok though, which was the most important thing. 

One night stands out in particular. It was late, sometime in the early morning hours. Someone started pounding on doors down the hallway, yelling something in Arabic. The person soon was pounding on our door as well. I was more than a little freaked out that maybe the place was burning down and this was our fire alarm, so I pulled my pants and shirt on and opened the door. A little bald dude stood in front of me saying something. I told him (in English) that I had no clue what he was saying. He then started making a movement with his hands like he was trying to light a cigarette, and asked "lighter?" He just kept repeating this motion and saying "lighter?" while I stared in disbelief. This dude was actually going to wake the entire floor up to use a lighter? Steffen couldn't take it anymore. I'm not sure how awake he was (or how awake I was, for that matter) but he started shouting all sorts of threats and obscenities at this guy from the darkness of our room behind me. The guy got pissed and said something under his breath while walking down the hall. But it shut him up. I laid in bed for awhile wondering how long it would take for this dude and a bunch of his friends to come pay the Americans a visit, but it never happened. Just another night in the Finar. 

Funny pics of Steffen and others

Here are Ibrahim and Steffen on the night that I left Oman.

Ibrahim (a doctor, and one of our roomies) is demonstrating some of his surgical techniques.

Steffen, doing super, thanks for asking.

Extreme close up of Elizabeth.

Extreme close up of Steffen.

I'm not going to neglect funny pictures of me. 

Here I am wearing the ENTIRE soccer outfit that I bought. It's a little snug...

Wahiba Sands

The Wahiba Sands is a stretch of desert south of Muscat, seen below in a satellite photo (here they are called the Sharquiya sands, but the traditional name is Wahiba).

Dave, Steffen and I went in Dave's car, while Elizabeth and her dad, Paul, rode in their car. This wasn't something that a bunch of Gringo's like us should do alone. We joined up with a group that goes across the sands like once a month, led by a bunch of locals who know where they are going. In our group we had a few Austrian tourists, a prince from the United Arab Emirates, an Omani general, a super weird Canadian with his weird elderly mom, and about 40 cars of people. The first night we met up at a restaurant on the western edge of the sands. They provided a meal and got everyone set up with radios. We then drove a ways into the desert to camp for our first night. 

The next morning we got started on the serious dune bashing. In the picture below you can see us following the La Bella's red Ford. 

At first it was just rolling dunes, still pretty hard-packed sand. The driving was almost as smooth as the road, just with more ups and downs. Then the dunes started getting softer and taller, with more and more risk of getting stuck. The guides weren't pulling any punches either, they were taking us on an aggressive course. Instead of always searching for the easiest way, they tended to just try to go up and over everything. Sometimes it went well, sometimes it didn't!

Example of it not going well for Dave.

We took the high side of the dune and ended up going over the other side, getting stuck axle deep. Steffen and I piled out of the car, trying to push from the back while Dave gave her hell. We weren't going anywhere.

But our guides were more than a little experienced getting people unstuck. They dug out our front tire and had everyone push the car downhill. That didn't work at first, so they got the Hummer with the tow cable to pull the car until it was free. Steffen and I got used to this drill over the next few days. If we weren't pushing ourselves out we were trying to help others.

Sometimes it was just a matter of flooring it and hoping that you got where you needed to go, before you got stuck. 

Even the Hummer had issues. It was one of the original Hummers, like the kinds that the military uses. It belonged to the entourage of the Emirate prince, and it was a beast. Except we found out that Hummers aren't always invincible. In the picture below you can see the Hummer jammed up in a dune (Steffen is waving):

Long story short, the prince's entourage got a little cocky and managed to drive his Hummer directly into the bottom of a dune. In an effort to get out, he floored it and proceeded to tear two of his tires off of the rim. He still managed to get the Hummer out, dragging his torn tires with him. 

Our trip went on like that, we'd get stuck or someone else would, we'd push them out and keep moving. It was pretty fun, the scenery was amazing, and the driving was unlike anything I had experienced. Just to see SUV's doing what they were designed for - driving offroad in intense situations and not getting stuck - it was pretty amazing. This was the only time I thought it would be cool to own one, otherwise my Saturn is more than enough car for me! 

Here are some random pictures of the trip:

A picture of prayer during the trip:

By the end of the trip we had lost a few cars along the way. Even the La Bella's had a close call, when their radiator managed to slip it's housing and their car started to overheat. Fortunately our guides managed to get it back into place with some MacGyver-type maneuvering. 

Soon we were out of the sands, and at the ocean. After a few days of not showering, I was happy to get into the water. Steffen, Elizabeth and I swam for awhile in the Indian Ocean, dodging all sorts of trash floating out there. We then drove back down the coast to a little fishing village where our tour guides had one last meal set up for us. From there it was back to Muscat, our adventure was over.

Some little village in the middle of the Omani mountains

Toby, one of the friends that Steffen and I made in Oman, was visiting Oman for a few weeks - right around the time that Steffen and I arrived. We met him at the Obama inauguration party that Elizabeth and her parents had. Toby used to live in Oman and worked for one of the adventure companies in Muscat. In this capacity he had helped arrange trips for the company and was also a driver. Now that he was back in Oman, and had most week days free, he wanted to go back to some of the places he had visited with the adventure company. Coincidentally Steffen and I wanted to see many of those same places, which led to us taking more than a few driving trips with Toby.

One of those trips with Toby was into the mountains, up some of the most twisty mountain roads I have ever seen. The type of roads that require a good 4WD and a great driver (which Toby was). The scenery was beautiful, with harsh mountains and blue sky.

Our destination was this little mountain village many miles from the main roads. It was the type of place that until recently would get blocked off the rest of world anytime there was any significant amount of rainfall, due to the flooding in the wadis (valleys). 

Steffen riding shotgun

I can't remember the village's name, but it was awesome. We came around the side of this mountain and we were suddenly looking down into a valley. In the middle of the valley was a small hill on which the village was built, surrounded by a swath of green. There were fields and date groves, all watered by a series of canals.

Up until this point we hadn't seen anything but rocks and more rocks, and suddenly we were face to face with a little oasis. Toby had a connection in the area, a young guy who is apparently being groomed for leadership of the village. We parked under some trees and waited for this guy to come out and meet us.  

We all shook hands when he arrived and we walked into town. Once inside his sitting room, we partook in the traditional routine of greeting guests in Oman, sharing tea or coffee and eating dates. Steffen spoke to the guy in Arabic for awhile then we all talked in English about living in this part of the world, so far from the rest of the world. He told us about how they have helicopters in case of emergency, and how the Sultan is building a better (paved) road out to them and some of the other nearby villages. Then he took us on a tour of his amazing town.

After walking through town, he took us into the fields and date groves surrounding the town.

Soon we were walking along the canal system they have in place to water the fields. 

We walked through fields that smelled of garlic. The water came from the caves and pools above the city, filtering quietly through the small canals that we walked on. You could see the different ways that the water could be routed, depending on the needs of the fields. I followed a little behind the guys, taking pictures and just enjoying the bright sunny day.

When people think of the Middle East, I wish they would think of places like this little village before making broad generalizations. 

The village, in the distance

We eventually left the village and headed farther up the mountain, to the summit. The nice thing about these little traveled mountain roads is that at any point you can stop and have your own little scenic viewpoint!