Your Oman itinerary, day 2

Greetings from Muscat...you will end up here on day 3 of your Oman adventure, but there is still plenty to do in the Hajar Mountain region, using the beautiful fort town of Nizwa as your base.

On Day 2, get up and enjoy the breakfast buffet at your new and improved hotel that has a clean bathroom, clean sheets and a floor without several layers of dust (not to mention a breakfast buffet with bowls of fresh pineapple and watermelon!). Rejoice that you are able to take a shower without worrying what will crawl under your skin and fester there for years, possibly.

After Day 1 (see previous entry), JL and I drove about an hour to the town of Sinaw, southwest from the mountains and into the scrub-and-acacia-tree desert. The town of Sinaw has a market where Bedouins (who still exist in Oman) have long visited to sell their livestock and buy supplies they can't make themselves. JL was psyched about seeing the Bedouins, though neither of us knew any identifying features that would allow us to spot them. Nonetheless, we set out, gamely, as you will when you come to Oman, point your own car toward the acacia trees and hope for the best. We got an early start, always a good idea, as most markets get going around 7 a.m. and close with padlocked finality around the noon call to prayer. (Very cute kids who asked sweetly for a picture at the Sinaw market.)

We got to Sinaw on the look out for Bedouins and, to our extremely pleasure, saw camels right off the bat (they are also much easier to identify). There was a row of them, slotted like SF parkers along the low wall of the livestock souq, which was in the middle of this particular market (rather than outside the souq itself). These were real camels, sold by men wearing real turbans and daggers (the curved khanjar dagger is a decorative part of a traditional Omani male outfit). JL and I (the only tourist in the market as yet) took many, many pictures of the camels as market-goers looked on patiently. For them, it was the equivalent of someone ooohing and ahhhing over a line of cows or horses or any other working animal. In person, camels remain as cute and doe-eyed as they look in photos, with their impossibly long, sand-proof lashes and white or light khaki fur. The camels parked at the Sinaw souq seemed even-tempered, even mellow. Nonetheless, I kept out of spitting distance, and I recommend you do the same.

We made a tour of the souq, then left to browse a nearby market we'd passed on the way into town. It turned out to sell mostly women and children's clothing, a garage-sale-like set up where clothes were spread on blankets or hung on temporary racks. I wasn't planning to get anything until I noticed a blanket featuring the decorative cuffs Bedouin (and other Omani women) wear on their pants. These are intricately embroidered or handsewn with silver- and gold-colored thread mixed in with bright green, yellows and reds. I didn't know (until I saw them displayed on the blanket) that the cuffs were sold separately, sort of like legwarmers and attached (am still unclear how) underneath pants, which stop right above. I squatted down to admire them and ended up being offered a wide variety of cuffs, as well as pants with cuffs attached, by two older women who weren't speaking Arabic. JL and I could only assume they were Bedouin, which was confirmed when a rather snobbish Omani man asked us in English if the women were bothering us (because "these people are illiterate"). We assured him that they weren't bothering us--they were selling us decorative legwarmers with pants attached. In one case, bright pink with gold paisley pants attached (see left of the photo above). Their literacy skills didn't really come into it, plus they were very nice.

What ensued was one of those scenes designed to brighten up a few minutes of a routine market day as a distinctly non-Bedouin in an Old Navy hoodie (me) tried on a series of Bedouin ankle cuffs, discovered that her ankles were too chubby (this despite one fashion evolution that included zippers sewn into the cuffs, much like your pair of acid-washed jeans circa 1988) and ended up being dressed up in scarves by several highly amused women, including the blanket's proprieteress. The hoodie came off, replaced by a lovely scarf I never would have chosen for mysel (but love). Out came other head pieces (gold and jingling, though I passed on those). There were lots of smiles, pictures taken, money exchanged (though much less than in other markets) and for a moment vast cultural boundaries seemed to relax just a bit while a bunch of women sold and bought clothes. Thus emboldened, JL and I returned to the main souq for a go at the traditional Omani caps. We met a man there who was equally pleased to show off his wears as we described our male relatives (and the size of their heads) to the best of our ability. After we had made our purchases, he offered us Omani coffee, strong, black and flavored with cardamom. (me and the hat guy with coffee cup)

As the market was winding down, we headed off to our next stop, the ghost town in the middle of the still-bustling area of Massah. The traditional walled, mud-brick town had been gradually abandoned over the years, yet was still standing near the city center as the modern town grew up around it. JL and I had the place to ourselves (we got the info from tourist booklet issued by the Omani Ministry of Tourism, not the Lonely Planet--and now you know, too!) We walked the narrow streets, stuck our heads into crumbling former houses and businesses, and took lots of shots of pointed archways leading to more archways and out into the ever-present date palms on the far side of the wall.

We returned to our wonderfully pleasant and sparkling clean hotel for a few hours of reading and relaxing before driving into town to find dinner (the buffet of the previous night was delish, but pricey).

Next on the itinary: mellow Muscat, the Muscateers, walking through Omani history and souq shopping extraordinaire.