Breakfast at the Khasab Hotel is definitely the worst of our trip (so far, I should say, but we’re in the home straight now). It consisted today of white bread, some of which was toasted, and some individually wrapped portions of jam, butter, cheese and honey.
Only after eating most of it did we discover that an ommelette could also be ordered, albeit it at extra cost. We were in for a long day, so we ordered a couple anyway, but this made us a little late for our 09:00 pick-up for our dhow cruise.
Down at the harbour, we boarded our dhow and were delighted to discover that we had the entire boat to ourselves. In fact, we are virtually the only people staying at our hotel, too. There’s only one other guest, as far as I know.
Part of the reason for that is that Oman Air has flights to Khasab only on Thursday and Friday, so anyone who wants to fly here from greater Oman either has to stay one night or six. Dubai, on the other hand, has daily flights (although I’m unsure which airline operates them; probably Kish), so Musandam is a popular weekend destination for expats.
Anyway, aboard the dhow, cushions flanked either side of the boat and carpets were draped over the remaining areas in the middle, so the boat looked comfy and inviting. We took up position along the left side.
Our crew consisted of two men, an older Omani gent and a younger one, probably in his twenties. Neither spoke a word of English and we speak no Arabic, so sign language would have to do.
We headed out into the Khor Ash Sham, a long and sheltered fjord (then again, which fjord isn’t?).
Before long, we saw the village of Nadifi in the distance on the south side of the fjord. We passed by at quite a distance, however. The boat doesn’t land at any of the villages on this trip, in order to respect the privacy of the locals. These are very remote communities, accessible only by boat.
Nadifi has about a hundred inhabitants, mainly fishermen. Because there’s no access by road, the children travel by boat to school in Khasab and stay over from Saturday to Wednesday.
Next up was Qanaha, which we passed by more closely. Stone houses could be made out in the distance.
At this point, Telegraph Island (a.k.a. Jazirat Al Maqlab) loomed up ahead, the former site of a British telegraphic relay station in the 19th century.
The sheer isolation of the island, behind a bend of this remote khor, apparently drove many of the workers stationed there to madness. The saying “to go around the bend” still persists to this day. So now you know.
Ahead lay the village of Maqlab on the right-hand side. This is a mountain village, where the people earn their living from goatherding and fishing. Maqlab comprises about ten or so houses and can also be reached by climbing over Jebel Maqlab.
At this point, the men on the boat brought us into the shallows and made it clear we could jump off the side and go swimming here in the beautiful green water, but we indicated that we didn’t want to swim and were offered a slightly longer journey along the fjord instead.
We gratefully accepted and fared on towards the end of the fjord. Seebi Island could be seen in the distance.
To our great astonishment, some kind of flying fish would periodically leap out of the water and literally run across the water for a good 10 – 20 m using its tail fin as a leg. It was one of the strangest sights I have ever witnessed first hand and it was totally unexpected.
We now turned, looped around Telegraph Island and passed by Sham, which we passed by more closely than any of the other villages on our cruise. Again, this village is home to about a hundred residents, but not a soul was stirring, as had been the case in each of the other villages. They could have been deserted, for all we knew.
Along the route, we were kept watered with tea, Arabic coffee, water and soft drinks; and nourished with fruit.
On the return voyage, we stopped at a cove to observe dolphins swimming in formation at the left side of our boat, then in front of it, then off to the right and finally behind. I think this was the high point of Sarah’s day, as she had been very excited at the prospect of seeing dolphins and was even more jubilent now at having got to see them so close.
Eloïse seemed to enjoy the trip, too, and was very well behaved. By the time we made it back to Khasab’s harbour, she had fallen asleep. Sarah expertly managed to get her into her car seat without waking her.
With only one more full day in Musandam, it was important to make good use of the afternoon, too, so we decided to head up into the mountains. It was now 13:30 and the guide books made it sound like a tricky 4×4 drive, with narrow roads hugging the mountains, precipitous drops, and vertiginous views.
We decided to see for ourselves; we could always turn back if it got too hairy.
As we began the drive, signs at the side of the road warned of the steepness of the gradients and cautioned owners of non-4×4 vehicles not to attempt the ascent.
The road probably was the most difficult we have tackled on this trip so far, but at slow speeds it was still comfortable (mentally, that is; physically, it was somewhat less comfortable). A handful of incredibly steep switchbacks put the car under considerable strain, but we eventually made it to the top of Jebel Harim, the tallest mountain in the area. We parked near the radar station to rest.
On the way to the summit, we had passed the wonderfully verdant Sayh plateau, where goats wandered without a care in the world and some obvious agriculture was being cultivated. If you looked at that plateau out of context, you would have no idea it was high in the mountains; it looked like a meadow at sea level.
At the stop of the mountain pass, we took some time to take photos and change Wiesje’s nappy, after which we began the descent. On the way dowm, we passed a convoy of Hummers, doubtless ferrying cruise line passengers on a mountain excursion. We had seen a liner docked in the harbour that morning and surmised that that could be the only source of enough tourists to fill six or seven Hummers.
The descent, which I imagined might be hairier than the ascent, was made quite quickly, as we were now familiar with the terrain. We found ourselves back down at the base of Jebel Harim by 16:30.
That left enough time for the 10 km drive to Khor Najd, the only khor accessible by car, which rewarded us with a glorious view of the surrounding mountains and fjord.
We made it back to Khasab with enough time to stop off at a beachside park, where Eloïse could tire herself out, prior to going to dinner for the second night in a row at the Golden Tulip Hotel, just outside of Khasab.
The advantage of eating there was that there’s an office of Khasab Travel & Tours located in the hotel. After dinner, we arranged to charter a large speedboat tomorrow, which will take us to the remote settlement of Kumzar.
This is the northernmost settlement in Oman and reputedly the remotest on the whole of the Arabian peninsula. There are no roads and a two hour speedboat journey (or four hour voyage by dhow) is the only way to get there. The villagers of Kumzar speak a language known as Kumzari, which is a mixture of Farsi, Arabic, English and Portuguese and Hindi. I think it’s going to be a fascinating visit to an area of the world that has almost certainly retained its own character and remained largely impervious to the onslaught of the western world.
The voyage will take us out into the Arabian Gulf and then into the Strait of Hormuz. Somewhere in the distance to the north will be Iran, but that’s as close as we’ll get on this trip.
Today was possibly the highlight of our trip so far, but tomorrow has a sporting chance of surpassing it. Either way, it’ll be a terrific day, I’m sure.