Your Oman itinerary, day 3 (and 4)

Dream of camels and old mud brick, but wake up to your last morning in Nizwa. On your way out of town, make a stop at the Nizwa fort, which you may have been putting off cause it's right there, and there were other things to see.

The Nizwa fort is definitely worth a stop, regardless of the number of forts you've already seen. Unlike Jabreen Castle, it is fully developed as a tourist site, complete with interpretive panels throughout the building, and a museum that details Omani traditional crafts and farming methods. The round tower still has the slots which they used to pour boiling date juice down on invaders, as well as the trap doors built into the stairs, also meant to slow invaders.

After exploration and excellent photo ops of the mosque and town, JL bought a hand-woven goat-hair rug in the gift shop, which was something she'd been looking for all trip. Apparently, those lucky enough to rent a 4WD have the chance to be sold a rug at the very top of Jebel Shams (see day 1). Those of us without the gear power have to resort to the market.

We headed for Muscat after the fort and made good time through the mountains. I kept expecting the contours of the land to smooth as we neared the ocean, but the jagged hill followed the freeway through the extensive suburbs all the way to the Mutrah neighborhood with its corniche and semi-traditional souq.

Muscat is unlike Abu Dhab in almost every way. Where Abu Dhabi is a bustling metropolis filled with skyscrapers, chrome and Lexus SUVs, Muscat is a sleepy port town with low apartment blocks, old-fashioned wooden doors and dusty Toyota Corollas (ours didn't feel out of place).

Lonely Planet has a lovely walking tour that takes the visitor from the fish market at the top of the corniche, through Mutrah and the port area to the old town where the disco palace of Sultan Qaboos (pictured left) and the original city gates are located. Until 1970 these gates were closed each night at dusk, and handily shut the inhabitants of Muscat (Muscateers?) inside. Today, as I mentioned, Muscat sprawls for kilometers, but the old city remains. The corniche (and walk) offers a lovely view of the harbor, several surrounding forts, two well-manicured city parks and a huge, white viewing station shaped like an ornamental incense burner. Every city needs one. Right off the corniche is a jewel of a museum on the history of Muscat and Oman, which includes interactive exhibits on prehistory all the way through the modern renaissance. There was also an amatur photography exhibit while we were there featuring stunning photos of the landscape and people.

The highlight of any trip to Muscat, though, is a trip to the Mutrah souq. I called it "semi-traditional" because it looks to the Western eye exactly like an old-time souq. It has narrow, covered alleyways lined with shops selling Omani handicrafts as well as necessities like shoes and plastic buckets (and mosque alarm clocks). In fact, its ceiling and stucture aren't all that old, though a souq has stood on the same site for centuries. JL and I spent many a hour walking the alleys shopping for souvenirs like scarves, wool or raw silk jackets from Kashmir (JL bought two and I bought one) and a variety of silver jewelry, woven tops and wooden frames.

I loved the vibe of Muscat. I loved the low buildings, the cute, tiled mosques in the old town, the souq and the museum. I loved the slower pace of life and the rooted intentionality of the place. There were a few building cranes in Muscat, but none of them were along the corniche, arguably the tourist center of town. This part of the city isn't being developed (at the moment). It's the way the Muscateers think it should be--and it remains as anchored as the sultan's yacht, the unloading container ship and the dhow floating in the harbor, all symbols in their own way of the capital of Oman.

Spend a day or two in Muscat, but don't leave without seeing the Grand Mosque, which is open to non-Muslims from 8-11 a.m. It has a large central dome, colorful tiled niches, a huge carpet, stained glass in geometric patterns and a huge central chandalier. And while they didn't have abeyyas to hand out, they did have a woman guard who wrapped my scarf tight enough to nearly cut off the circulation in my neck. Nary a wisp of hair escaped.

At the end of our Oman adventure, JL and I pointed the rental Corolla back toward the mountains and the UAE. Though we had only driven six hours, I felt as though I'd been to a different world. I found myself looking at the UAE differently, too. I saw less of what reminded me of the States and more of what linked it to the truly foreign country I'd just visited.