After a couple of months of cycling through South America without once seeing the sea it was time to cycle the stunning east coast of Oman.  Along the way I would be offered amazing hospitality by some of the most open and welcoming people that I have met on this trip.   

I had spent the last 3 days in the fantastic company of Amanda, Ingmar and Karen (thanks once again for showing me round and putting me up) but it was now time to start cycling through Oman.

Oman is shaped a bit like a number 7 with the main population centres located in the north along the horizontal line and  the vertical line being the 1000 km road south through the desert to the city of Salalah near the border with Yemen.

At this time of year, given the temperatures in the desert, the journey south through the sand was not feasible on a bicycle so I was going to concentrate my cycling in the northern part of the country.  

When I left Muscat my plan was to cycle along the coast to the eastern most point of Oman to the town of Ras al Hadd.  My departure was a normal Blakey morning and even though I aimed to get on the road early it was gone 10am by the time I had finished packing and setting off.

The only road east out of Muscat was a 4 lane highway and I would be on this for the next 100km.

Not the best introduction to cycling in Oman but if you look on a map there are not that many roads in the country and this was the only one which went along the coastline.

I say it went along the coastline but as I spent the day cycling through the mountains I didn’t actually see the sea until the very end of the day.

Where much of the previous 11,000 km that I had ridden had been through landscapes that were lush and green the foothills of the Hijar Mountains around Muscat were the very opposite

Apart from the odd scrub vegetation the landscape was bare rock and the majority of the wadi (river valleys) that I crossed were bone dry.

The barren landscape had a beauty of it’s own and there was something slightly mesmerizing about it. 

There were many other things to keep me amused along the road though and one of them were the many driving schools that I passed

A series of oil barrels had been set up to mimic tight spaces and the drivers had to maneuver their way through the course with the space between the barrels getting progressively narrower.

This was definitely more rigorous training than getting my motorbike license had been in Vietnam.  What I had to do there to get it was to drive my own motorbike to the test center and then in front of a panel of judges, who were sat in a row at a table, complete a figure of 8.  That was it, as long as I didn’t put my foot down I passed.

A couple of hours out of Muscat and I passed my first target in Oman as crossed the Tropic of Cancer. 

Technically, I was now back in the tropics but the nice thing about cycling in Oman was that without the rain it was a dry heat rather than the humidity that I normally faced when cycling in Asia.

My one concern when I arrived in the Middle East had been finding water in the desert.  It turned out that in Oman water was more widely accessible than in any country that I have cycled through so far on this trip.

As Oman is an Islamic country the one constant in every village and town, plus in random places in the middle of nowhere, was mosques.  At every mosque there is either a tap or a water machine. 

The water machine not only filters the water but chills it too.

Despite all of the negative press that the Muslim faith receives the most important practices are the Five Pillars of Islam.  They are the five obligations that every Muslim must satisfy in order to live a good and responsible life and consist of:

  • Shahadah: sincerely reciting the Muslim profession of faith
  • Salat: performing ritual prayers in the proper way five times each day
  • Zakat: paying an alms (or charity) tax to benefit the poor and the needy
  • Sawm: fasting during the month of Ramadan
  • Hajj: pilgrimage to Mecca

The giving of water is another way that they perform Zakat and the other source of water that I found everywhere were taps that people build into the outside wall of their house for people to freely use.  

It is hard to explain to people who have not tour cycled how much of my journey has been dominated by finding water – I need at least 4 litres a day to drink, plus water to cook, plus finding a water source at night to camp next to in order to wash.

In Oman, water was something that I didn’t need to think about as every village had a mosque and so if I didn’t pass a house with a tap I just looked for a pair of minarets (towers on a mosque from which the muezzin calls the people to prayer) when I needed to top up.

I think the locals also appreciate the nature of the heat more as at least a few times a day cars would pull alongside and ask if I need something to drink

The other thing that has surprised me is just how much fruit there is to buy in Oman.

The guys at the fruit stall by the side of the road thought I was slightly mad to be cycling through the +40C degree midday sun, and just like me they too all wanted a photo to show their friends.

Despite the distractions I still wanted to cover +100km that day and the headwind was killing me. On the one hand it was a saving grace as it cooled the intense heat of the day but I was struggling to average over 15kmph.  I was just hoping that unlike in Argentina the winds would not be constantly from the same direction.

All day the road had gently climbed and towards mid afternoon it was payback time as I started to descend back to the coast towards the town of Quriyat.

A quick check of the map showed that there was a wadi that ran into the sea a couple of kilometers past Quriyat and so I left the main highway when I found a dirt track that seemed to be heading in the right direction.


The wadi turned out to be more of a salt water lagoon where they pumped sea water in before using the sun to evaporate the water and harvest the salt.

At the end of the lagoon was the beach and where I had imagined that I would find gleaming white sand I was sorely disappointed.


What I did see though was a building that looked like a block of toilets which meant that I could have a wash after a long day where I had covered more than 100km in blistering heat.

The only problem was that between me and the building were 500m of deep sand.

If you have never tried pushing a 16kg touring bike loaded with 15kg of kit and food through deep sand let me assure you that it is very very hard.  By the time I had covered the 500m I was sweating from parts of my body that I never knew could sweat.

The building was a toilet block and had everything I would need – cold water to drink and shower.  This toilet had an attendant, Akash who was from Bangladesh, to keep the place clean. 

So far in Oman, every manual worker that I had encountered was from India, Bangladesh or Pakistan, and I suppose the one downside to cycling through Oman was to see how they are treated like second class citizens and often seem to be regarded as mere servants rather than the human beings that they are.

In the USA they recently held a ‘Day without Immigrants’ where immigrants did not attend work, open their businesses, spend money or even send their children to school in protest at the rhetoric that they have had to face since Obama left office.  They wanted to show just how important migrants contribution was to the economy.  If the migrant workers in Oman ever did the same the country I can tell you that  the country would grind to a halt.

Every cloud has a silver lining and in this case it was my stomach – the food was amazing with lots of curry and daal.  That was when I could find it though as on my first day out of Muscat the only place that I had passed all day was a coffee shop.

That night I set my tent up on the beach and as it was so hot at night I didn’t bother putting the fly sheet on. 

I don’t have a stand on my bike and as I didn’t fancy lying it down in the sand I left it further up the beach stood against an old electricity pole.

It was great to be back camping next to the ocean and falling asleep to the sounds of the waves.

In the middle of the night my peaceful sleep was broken by something that I hadn’t counted on – spots of rain.  At first I thought that I was imagining it but when I turned the torch on the top of the tent was wet. 

I could see stars in the sky though and so as it was just spitting rain I didn’t bother getting up to put the fly sheet on.  Instead, I just threw my sarong over the top of me and went back to sleep.

The next morning I was up with the sun and after a quick shower in the toilet block I headed back to the highway.  To avoid having to push my bike through the deep sand I took a track up the side of the lagoon that I  had camped on.

The track started out fine

But soon turned into deep sand

By the time that I had got back to the highway I needn’t have bothered showering as I was again drenched in sweat.

The highway initially followed the coastline that I had just come from but far too soon it was time to climb my way over the edge of a mountain

The good thing about climbing is the view that you get but I was really cycling on the wrong side of the road to appreciate the view.  All I saw most of the time was the concrete divide in the middle of the road.  To see the view I had to park my bike and walk to the other side of the highway

 

Still, on my side of the road I had a great view of the huge wadi’s that descended out of the mountains. 

After 10km I had reached the top of the climb and the road started to descend back to the coast

On the descent I came across my first cyclist – Marlen.  She was on a 2 week tour of Oman and was essentially cycling the same route through Oman as I was but in the opposite direction. We had a great chat across the central reservation of the highway

If this was in Europe we would get arrested but here in Oman everybody pipped their horns and waved out of the window.  One guy even stopped to ask if we needed any help.  The friendliness of the Omani’s really has to be experienced firsthand.

At the bottom of the descent was the first chance that I had to leave the highway since leaving Muscat and cycle through villages and to really get to see the coastline.

The first village that I came across was called Dibab, and this typified many of the villages that I would pass through along the coastline.

Low rise white washed houses dotted higgledy piggledy over hillsides, date plantations and lots of goats and sheep wandering around. 

I tried to find a coffee shop to get a drink but one of the locals told me that there weren’t any in Dibab.  I still haven’t worked out where most of the villages that I pass through buy food to eat as most have no shops or restaurants. 

Here in Oman most businesses close between 1pm and 4pm, presumably because not many people go shopping during the hottest part of the day, which adds to the ‘abandoned feel’ to many of the villages that I was cycling through. 

About 10km down the coast road from the village of Dibab was Hawiyat Najm, or, as it is better known ‘the Dibab Sinkhole.

There are various stories behind its formation and the local legend is that it was formed when a meteorite fell to earth. (the name Hawiyat Najm in Arabic translates as ‘the falling star’)

The true, and more mundane, explanation is that the crater was formed as a natural consequence over time of water dissolving the underlying limestone rock which resulted in the collapse of the overlying rock. 

It was a great place to stop for a swim and the perfect place to get out of the midday sun

The sinkhole was set in a landscaped park area with covered seating areas that I made use of to have lunch  (I still hadn’t passed a single place to eat). 

There was also a toilet block with a water machine which dispensed ice cold water.

After lunch it was time to get back on the road and go in search of the white sand beaches that I knew were along this coastline

I didn’t have to go far before I found what I was looking for


Another fantastic spot to spend a couple of hours splashing around in the sea while the sun did it’s best to fry me.  As I was by the coast there was a lovely breeze which made the heat bearable.

The other great thing about the wind was that overnight it had swung around 180 degrees and was now a tailwind.  This was so nice after spending a month cycling through Argentina in South America knowing that everyday I would be battered by a strong headwind. 

By the time I left the beach it was late afternoon and at this time of year in Oman the sun sets at around 6pm so it was time for me to start thinking about where to sleep. 

Camping is another thing that I haven’t had to think about in Oman as you can camp anywhere.  The only advice that Ingmar gave me about camping is that don’t camp next to the main road – not because of safety but because you will continually have people stopping to say hello and to see if you need anything. (this is true by the way as the one time I camped next to a road lots of cars stopped to see if I was okay)

One of the apps that I use on this trip is called ‘ioverlander’ and on the map people had marked that there was a nice beach to camp at called White Beach which was 25km further up the coast.

I decided to head there for the night and on the way I needed to pick up some water as I only had about half a litre left. The coast road ends at the village of Fins and this would be my last place to fill up with water before I took a dirt track in search of the beach that I planned to camp on.

As I cycled into the village I could see the minarets of the mosque where I knew that I could get water but next to the road was a coffee shop which at this time of the day was open so I pulled over to get a cold drink.

To describe the place that I stopped as a ‘coffee shop’ was a bit misleading as the only coffee they sold was Nescafe.  What they did sell though, and which I have become slightly addicted too, was Omani/Massalla Tea.

Everybody has their own recipe but the basic ingredients are water, sugar, loose leaf tea, fresh or powdered ginger, powdered cardamom and evaporated milk.  You put all of the ingredients in a pot and bring to the boil.  You then strain the tea and keep it hot ready to serve all day.

The ‘coffee’ shop that I had stopped at was run by a Bangladeshi family (another norm in Oman) and they served food.  Dinner that day was goat chickpea curry and daal served with freshly cooked roti.

In Oman, whenever you order food at a coffee shop it seems to automatically come with a simple salad. 

As I was sat eating people kept coming over to say hello and were very curious about what I was doing. One of the people who I chatted to, I didn’t get his name, was an engineer from Bangladesh who was working in the village installing a new electricity line.

When I finished my meal and went to pay I was told that the engineer had already paid for me when he had paid his bill which was amazing.

After an early dinner it was time to go in search of a place to camp and I was told by the owner of the coffee shop to follow a track next to the coast for about 5km and I would come across a white sand beach where I could camp. 

The track took me along the cliffs next to the sea

It was Thursday evening and the start of the weekend in Oman. The weekend in Oman was Thursday and Friday (Friday is the Muslim day of prayer) but after Saudi Arabia changed its weekend, in 2013 so did Oman.  The weekend is now Friday and Saturday to come in line with the rest of the Gulf States.

This meant that Thursday night was the start of the weekend and it seemed that Omani’s like to camp and had left Muscat en mass.  All along the cliffs convoys of huge 4 wheel drives were starting to make circles (think cowboys and Indians) and lay out carpets in the centre.  This is where they would spend the night eating before sleeping on another area that they also laid out carpets.

I stopped to say hello at one of the camps that were being set up and they said that they were expecting about 40 people to join them over the course of the evening and that they would be partying all night. (obviously without alcohol).  They invited me to join them but I fancied getting some sleep and so carried on to find the beach.

I descended off the cliff and found a beautiful spot on the sandy beach next to the sea to set up camp.

As the sun went down over the mountains behind me I virtually had the beach to myself.

The wind had picked up over the course of the day and as I was camping without the fly sheet I had nothing to keep the tent anchored to the ground until I got into it to sleep so had to  put rocks inside to stop it flying away.

Around 8pm first one car arrived and then another and before long there was a whole stream of vehicles descending on the beach that I had had virtually to myself.

It seemed that the rest of Muscat had now finished work and had come to the beach for the weekend. All around me 4 wheel drives were being arranged in circles and camps cool boxes full of food were being unloaded.

Let’s just say that it was very late by the time I got to sleep that night and I should of joined the party on the clifftop.

Here is a 3 minute video to show you the kind of scenery that I had cycled through since leaving Muscat:

In the morning when I woke up most of the camps were already packing up and by 10am I once again had the beach virtually to myself.


After breakfast, I went for a quick dip in the sea before packing up and continuing my journey east.

As the track that I had followed to the beach was a dead end I had to backtrack over the cliffs to the village of Fins.

The landscape in the daylight was beautiful as the track passed a series of dry wadis where shepherds were tending their herds of goats.

Once back in Fins I picked up the coast road which would take me back to the highway

Thankfully, I only had to ‘suffer’ the highway for 10km before I was off it and back to the beach.

In northern Oman there are only really two roads which go east to west – the coast road and the inland road.  Separating the two roads are the Hijar Mountains which run parallel to the coast. 

The way that you get into the mountains is to follow the wadi’s (river valleys) and my side trip that day was to hike up into Wadi Shab.

Most of the wadi’s in Oman contain water only after rainfall, but there is an underground spring which feeds into Wadi Shab which means that it contains water year round. (the highway bridge across the entrance of the Wadi kind of kills the aesthetics)

To hike in you need to cross the water at the head of the wadi, and you can either wade your way across,  or much easier, is to take one of the boats that for 1 OMR will transport you the 200m or so across the pool.

In Arabic, Wadi Shab translates as the ‘gorge between cliffs’ and that is what it is

Once the boat drops you off on the other side it was time to start hiking up the beautiful wadi.

All along the side of the wadi there are terraced plantations growing crops.  The plantations are fed by an an ancient falaj (irrigation system) where water from the top of the wadi is funneled through a series of channels that run for kilometres down the side of the wadi.

All over Oman ancient irrigation systems are responsible for channeling precious water from the mountains to the drinking wells in the lowlands below (they have even been given Unesco Heritage status).

There are more than 4000 of these channels in Oman, some of which were built more than 1500 years ago. The channels have been cut into mountainsides and run through tunnels, the longest of which is said to run for 120km under the desert area known as Sharqiya Sands, where dunes reach up to 100m in height.

The hike up the wadi was stunning  as I walked next to emerald green pools

You are not allowed to swim in the lower pools as drinking water is abstracted from them but you can in the upper pools.

At the very upper reaches of the pools you can dive under an overhanging rock into a submerged cave, complete with waterfall.

This was a fantastic place to spend the day, and as it was Friday there were a fair few people hiking through the wadi, it was big enough not to feel crowded.

At 4pm I headed back down the wadi and caught a boat back across the lower pool to where I had left my bike. 

In Oman, crime isn’t an issue and even though I had left my bike with all my luggage on it in the car park for the day I wasn’t remotely worried that somebody would steal anything off it and when I got back it was just how I had left it. 

This was another example of how reality is sometimes different from what is portrayed in the ‘western’ press.  Yes, throughout the world there are a small minority that tarnish the reputation of followers of the Muslim faith but my experience of Islamic countries is that they are the safest countries to travel through; the people are among the most generous, honest and open people in the world. 

I can assure you that I wouldn’t just be leaving my bike with all my luggage on it for the day in a car park in most ‘western’ countries, and would just say that please don’t blindly believe all of the rubbish that is printed in the press about Islamic countries.  I would urge you to go and see for yourself what you are missing.

Once I had retrieved my bike I headed for the village of Tiwi to find a coffee shop to get a cup of Omani tea

As it was Friday afternoon I couldn’t find anywhere open so gave up and headed back to the highway to cycle towards the town of Sur which was a couple hours ride further east along the coast, and where I planned to spend the night.

As I reached the outskirts of Sur it was getting late so I decided that I would set up camp and visit the city the following morning.

Along this part of the coast there seemed to be a lot of industry – gas and petroleum plants, an electricity power plant, a desalination plant and so instead of camping on the beach I took a side road off the highway which took me a couple of kilometres up into the foothills of the Hijar Mountains where I set up camp for the night in a wadi.

The next morning it was time to go and see what the city of Sur had to offer. The city is located on the coast and the road into the city took me past beautiful white sand beaches.

First stop on my tour of the city were the dhow boat yards which are located on a lagoon at the far end of the city.  The passage into the lagoon is marked by a light house and series of watch towers on the shores of the beautiful village of Ayjah which is situated on the far side of the lagoon.

In times gone by the light house and towers would be lit at night to mark the safe passage for boats to safely sail into the emerald green lagoon.

Along the shore of the lagoon there are many ‘shipwrecks’ that time has caught up with

In Oman, the tradition of building traditional boats by hand has not been totally lost though and there was at least one shipyard that was making dhow’s using methods that had been handed down over the centuries.

One of the workers, who were all Bangladeshi by the way, said that they were currently building 3 boats for a customer in Dubai and each boat would take about 14 months to build.

It was beautiful to see that although we live in a ‘digital’ world that boats are still being constructed by hand in the traditional ways as they have for centuries before.

After visiting the shipyard I crossed the bridge over the lagoon and cycled through the stunning village of Ayjah. 

This was Oman at its finest.

There was even a fort in the village but sadly it was closed.

After enjoying an Omani tea by the water’s edge I cycled back across the lagoon and into the centre of Sur.

This is where the souq was located and unlike the one that I visited in Muttrah, which was undercover, this one was a labyrinth of streets that I soon got lost in.

The other thing that amuses me in Oman is that the shops don’t really have names and the signs out front will often have Arabic writing with an English translation.  Small shops which sell drinks and groceries are advertised as selling:

While other specialist shops tend to tell you exactly what they sell

As the next shop wasn’t open when I passed I will never know what it sold:

That night I wanted to stay in Sur as Ireland were playing England in the final game of the 6 Nations.  I had already found a hotel who said I could use their wifi to watch the game, but at 80 GBP I didn’t plan on sleeping there the night. 

I asked a few taxi drivers if they knew of anywhere cheap to stay and one of them took me to a private apartment that was just off the centre of the souq.

At 20 GBP this was much more reasonable and after a quick shower I walked back into the centre to get some food.  The locals had finished work for the day and with what looked like 20 people per side they were having a kick about.

In the main square the Bangladeshi workers were gathering for their nightly chat.

The food offerings were once again South Indian/Bangladeshi and that night I had vegetable chickpea curry, rice with freshly baked flat breads. I was loving the food in Oman !!!!!

After dinner I walked across the bridge to Ayjah to watch the rugby on my laptop at the Al Ayjah Plaza Hotel.  It was a low scoring game which saw Ireland the victors, and even though they won the battle you could say that England won the war as they were still crowned 6 Nations champions at the end of the match.

At least my Irish wife was happy, and as it was Saint Patricks Day weekend when I spoke to her after the match she was still out celebrating at 4am back in Vietnam !!!!

The next morning would be my final day cycling east as by the end of the day I would reach the Arabian Sea at the town of Ras al Hadd which is the most easterly point of Oman.  

On my way out of Sur I made a bit of a rookie error as I pulled up to a water tap.

I emptied my bottles of the water from the day before and turned on the tap to fill them up but nothing came out. However, as there were lots of houses around it wasn’t a problem finding another tap. Lesson learned though, and if it had happened later on when I was in the middle of the desert it could have been a bit of a problem.

The road out of Sur followed the coastline and all along it there were huts where you could sit in the shade and enjoy the view of the sea.

Under one of the huts were two Omani men sat on a carpet drinking tea (they keep a carpet in the boot of their cars for such an occasion).

When they saw me they invited me over to join them which I did.

After a very enjoyable half an hour chatting with them while drinking tea and eating fruit it was time to say ma’a as-salaama (goodbye in Arabic).

Even though it was still mid morning when I got back on the bike the temperature was scorching and it was only the sea breeze which made the heat bearable.  I was so glad that I had changed my routing and arrived in the Middle East in March as there was no way I would have been able to cycle in another month or so as the thermometer would reach over 50C degrees.

The coastline that I was following was beautiful with small villages dotted along the white sand beaches.

None of the beaches were ‘developed’ and the only thing that was built on them were small huts that provided shade where you could sit and enjoy the view. 

As it was now 1pm I pulled off the coast road just outside the village of Shiya and took full advantage of the huts that had been built as they would provide the perfect shade for a lunch stop.

As with many of the other beaches where huts had been built there was a toilet block to wash and get fresh water from and this one had even built a kids playground. 

To give you a better idea of the setting here is a short video that I shot:

After lunch there was only I thing to do – have a swim in the ocean.

It was then time to finish my cycle east along the coast road.  

There are no towns along this stretch of the coast, just a series of small fishing communities.

After another 10km or so the road left the coast as it turned inland and climbed its way back into the hills.

The road was not steep and was more of a roller coaster ride than an out and out constant climb

Along this road I passed a confusing sign that at first I thought I had misread and had to turn around and cycle back to read it again.

Now you would think that somebody would have proof read this road sign but as there are so many grammatical mistakes I think that it is brilliant. For the next few kilometres I kept an eye out for the sketch of the Tiger but I never did find it.

I had now been cycling for over 4 hours and as I entered the village of Khawr al Jaramah I came across my first shop and stopped to get a cold sugary drink as the heat was stifling.

At this village the road splits as it heads around the different sides of a large saltwater lagoon.  It looked a lovely spot to camp but as I wanted to reach the most easterly point of Oman which lay on the far shore of the lagoon I continued heading east.

After another 10km or so I reached a T junction which marked the end of the road for my journey east as in front of me was the Arabian Sea. (although I couldn’t see it as a small hill blocked my view)

I was now at the most easterly point of Oman.  To my north was a short peninsula on which the town of Ras al Hadd sits, and to my south was over 1000km of desert before reaching the town of Salalah and the border with Yemen.

I decided that as it was getting late I would stay the night in Ras al Hadd rather than starting my journey south through the desert.

Ras Al Hadd is famous for two main things – its beautiful beaches 

And the estimated 20,000, yes 20,000, turtles which migrate annually from the shores of the Arabian Gulf, the Red Sea and Somalia to lay their eggs on this 10km stretch of pristine white sand.

There are seven species of sea turtles in the world and you can find five of them in the waters off Oman’s coast: The Green Turtle can be found on most Omani beaches; the Loggerhead Turtle that nests on the southern shores of Oman; the Hawksbill Turtle that nests on the shores of Muscat; the Olive Ridley Turtle that nests on Masirah Island; and the Leatherback Turtle which although found in Omani waters does not nest on it’s beaches.

During the main breeding season, which is between May and December, turtles can be seen queuing up to get a spot on the beach as they drag their heavy shells out of the water onto the beach.  Once on the beach they dig a hole in the sand with their paws/flippers (not sure what you call their limbs?) to bury the eggs that they lay before returning to the sea.

I did not take the picture above.  It was taken from the website of the Turtle Reserve which is located in the fishing village of Ras Al Jinz a few kilometres down the coast. (Ras Al Jinz Turtle Reserve

Every night at 9pm and 4am the Turtle Reserve organises small group tours to watch the turtles arrive at the beaches to lay their eggs, or after about 55 days, the eggs hatch and you can watch the baby turtles nightly dash back to the sea.  Numbers are strictly limited and so their website advises people to book ahead.

Even though it was March, and outside the main laying season, you still can’t camp on any of the beaches around Ras al Hadd so when I arrived in the town I went in search of a hotel for the night.

I was slightly delayed in my search by the hospitality of the people as outside many of the houses men were sat on carpets drinking tea and they kept inviting me to join them.

It would have been rude to refuse

None of the men that I sat with spoke English but they would call somebody over who did and they were very interested in my cycling journey around Oman. 

The other thing that I have found is that the men seemed very happy to pose for a picture and here it was no different.

After enjoying a few cups of Omani and ginger tea around town I still needed to find somewhere to stay so said my farewells.

I didn’t get very far before I was again side tracked by the beautiful fort that sits in the centre of the village.

Although the fort has been recently renovated, with a new skim of plaster, the original walls underneath are in fact nearly 500 years old.

The entrance walkway is accessed through a small gate

The length of the entrance passageway gives you an idea of just how thick the walls of the fort are

The end of the passage opens out into a central area.

The fort consists of a castle and two towers that are connected by a large defensive wall that are a few metres thick at its base. (The minaret in the photo is the mosque behind the fort)

In the main central area of the fort there is a well that is bored into the aquifer below to give a fresh water supply.

The castle, although built within the walled perimeter, would be the final refuge if the out wall was breached.   It had canons facing in a 360 degree arc.


Hopefully, nobody would be shooting at my bike

At the base of the castle building there are a number of rooms that would have been used for different purposes that today are full of trinkets and artefacts. 

Again, there are no members of staff on duty at the fort or signs telling you that the room is being monitored by cameras but here in Oman nobody pinches them.

There is also a quiz for people to do with the questions written on one side of a piece of wood with the answer on the back.

I was not too sure about the clarity or grammatical accuracy of their answers.

Time was now ticking on and I still needed to find somewhere to sleep so after visiting the fort I called at a Coffee Shop to ask for directions.

One of the staff told me that the only hotel was at the very northern end of the headland next to the runway. 

Thankfully, the airport has long since closed and all that is left are the old north/south and east/west runways which seemed slightly odd but are still used as roads today.

When I checked they had a room for me and after dropping my bags off I cycled to the beach at the end of the runway to watch the sunset.

It seems that the beaches to the north was where the local fisherman keep their boats

But on the beaches on the eastern side of the peninsula signs indicated that all access was prohibited in order to protect the nesting sites of the turtles which lay their eggs along the coast.

That evening I sat on the beach without a care in the world and watched the sunset behind a hill that I had cycled across earlier that day.

It had been a great day on the bike and here is a short video to give you a flavour of the coastline that I cycled through that day:

The next morning I had planned to leave to start my cycle into the Hijar Mountains but mother nature threw a spanner into the works and when I woke up a sand storm was raging through the area.   I have no idea what the wind speed was but when I went outside after breakfast I knew that I wouldn’t be able to cycle into it.

To give you an idea of how strong the gusts of wind were here is a video that I shot but you may need to be able to lip read to understand what I’m saying !!!!!

As I had a bit of time on my hands here is another short video about toilets in Oman. It may seem a strange topic to shoot a video about but good toilets are such a godsend to the tour cyclist, and have been such a benefit to my cycling experience in Oman:

Still, there are worse places to spend the day and in the afternoon the winds dropped off enough for me to head to the beach for a swim without getting totally sand blasted.  

The colour of the sea was amazing and the sand pure white

At the strand line (the highest point of the tide) there were thousands of tiny pink shells

and the odd ugly fish that had got beached and the sun had baked it rock hard

And as the locals didn’t seem interested in coming to the beach the only company that I had that day was a flock of seagulls.  

It was so beautiful that I just wandered along the beach all afternoon until the sun went down.

A stunning way to finish my ride east along the beautiful coastline of Oman and in the morning, as long as the winds eased, I would leave the coast and start my journey into the mountains and west towards the United Arab Emirates.

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Cycling The East Coast of Oman
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