I
t’s twilight in Seeb, an old fishing town on
the outskirts of Muscat, and the souk is back
in business. Evening prayer has ended, and
men in dishdashas and kuma caps gather
and stroll among the stalls. Pyramids of dried
anchovies and prawns and trays of glistening
cuttlefish vie for attention with bags of dried limes and
fragrant cardamom, jars of golden ghee and masses of
local dates. We’re offered a cluster of pale fresh dates
still on the stem. They’re crunchy, astringent, with no
more than a hint of sweetness.
There’ll be plenty more to try during our
adventure in the Sultanate of Oman, from the
capital hugging the serene shores of the Arabian Sea
to the jagged peaks of the Al Hajar mountains, and
then south, following bone-dry frankincense trade
routes, to the incongruously lush and tropical coast
of Dhofar. Dates are not just a staple in Oman, used
in cooking and turned into vinegar and syrup for
marinades and curries; they’re the flavour of Omani
hospitality, offered as an essential accompaniment to
conversation and spiced tea or coffee during almost
every encounter, no matter how casual.
Oman is an exceedingly hospitable place, but it
wasn’t always so. The fabled home of the Queen of
Sheba existed in isolation until relatively recently,
largely undeveloped. Until 1970, the city gates ofMuscat were closed at dusk and a curfew imposed.
That was before the palace coup, when Sultan Qaboos
bin Said, the current monarch, overthrew his father
and ushered in a new era, spending the spoils of oil
discovered in the mid-1960s on infrastructure and
opening the nation to the world.
The oil rush could have turned ugly, but instead
the Omanis have managed to embrace modernity
and maintain a strong sense of their heritage.
The magical Chedi Muscat, set on the beachfront
overlooking the Gulf of Oman, beautifully embodies
this synthesis of old and new. The engaging doormen
wear formal traditional dress: white, ankle-length
dishdasha, turban and a khanjar, the short, hook-shaped
ceremonial dagger worn tucked under the belt. And
while the design is contemporary, the resort has a
bewitching air of the exotic. The almost blindingly
white suites are scattered through eight and a half
hectares of tranquil gardens and decorative pools,
where domed pagodas are likely to be occupied
by dishdasha-clad guests tapping on laptops. Inside, the
suites have arabesque touches in metal fretwork lamps
and sculptural sunken stone baths, and that famed
hospitality comes in the form of decanters of gin, vodka
and whisky, along with plates of fresh fruit, jars of nuts- and dates, of course.
On a Saturday night our guides, Issa and Ahmed,
take us downtown to eat like locals. Muscat is a low-
slung city bound by the sea on one side and mountains
on the other, its white and sand-coloured buildings
no higher than eight storeys by royal decree. Where
Oman’s flashy neighbours Dubai and Abu Dhabi
are forests of high-rises, here the Islamic identity is
maintained, most buildings bearing Arabic flourishes
and the broad streets lined with curlicued streetlights.
Beside a small mosque in the Ministries District,
a café called simply Tea House is the go-to for Oman’s
crêpe-like flatbread, khubz rakhal. It’s folded over
savoury fillings such as cheese and egg, or a combination
of the two with chips, then grilled, and served along
with frothy karak tea, enriched with condensed milk
and saffron. The tables are full, inside and out, and
waiters ferry takeaway orders on trays to a constant
procession of cars that pull up outside.
Closer to the corniche we try mishkak, the
popular grilled skewers of various meats and seafood
sold on the streets. Trucks and vans congregate on
roadsides all around the city at dusk, and the drivers
set up makeshift grills, illuminated by humming
generator-powered lights. We juggle sticks of grilled
beef and lamb, doused with spicy tamarind or chilli
sauce, and watch the parade of pimped-up cars cruise
by. It’s Saturday night, after all.
Like many Omanis, Issa is proud of what his
country has achieved in less than 50 years. In 1994, he
tells us, Omani women became the first in the Gulf
region to be given the right to vote and to stand in➤
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PAGES The town
of Birkat Al Mawz
at the foot of the
Jabal Akhdar
range, Oman.
Left: a mishkak
vendor near the
Seeb souk in
Muscat. Far left:
prayer time
at Muscat’s
Grand Mosque.GOURMET TRAVELLER 129