The previous evening, I had contacted Faisal through Instagram to ask if he would like to come out in the early morning to do some photography. We arrange to meet at the inn at 6am before he has to head off to work at 7:30am. He arrives promptly at 6am and he says he’s embarrassed for his English but wants to show me some parts of Old Nizwa. He tells me he learned English by playing video games.
“What!” I exclaim. “How do you learn such good English from a video game?” I don’t understand how this is possible when I’ve used Babble to learn Spanish and I haven’t gotten past a greeting.
He goes on to tell me that he has 6 brothers and 2 sisters. We determine that I’m old enough to be his mother as he’s just 23 and he kindly informs me that his mother is just 51 after asking how old I am. Great. I’m actually older than his mother :(. Faisal is young but looks forward to marriage once his parents find him a fiancé and wants to be a police officer. Although he doesn’t particularly love living in Nizwa, he will stay because his family is here.
I get out my camera and give him a quick lesson. He’s a natural and takes a few photos with limited corrections given by me. He says he uses his IPhone to take photos and video but really prefers making short video montages. He shows me one and it’s really good. I encourage him to keep doing it as he has real talent. He beams with pride. We exchange phone numbers so we can share photos as he’s taken a really nice one of me and I’ve got a couple of him. I thank him for joining me and we part ways.
We’re on our way into the mountains but our first stop is a UNESCO site, Jabreen Castle, built in the 1600’s. We explore the fascinating, historical spot for 2 hours and have the place to ourselves. It’s been beautifully renovated and I’m in charge of photographs while Becca provides the history. The engineering feat alone is remarkable. It’s been constructed with hidden rooms and passageways, a small stable on the second floor for the Imam’s prize horse, a “whispering room” for secret meetings and a separate interior well in case marauders attempt to poison the falaj water system running into the castle.
An elderly gentleman is throwing pottery in one of the shaded courtyards and he shows me a water jug that has no top opening. The opening is in the bottom. I don’t understand. How will the water stay in the jug once you fill it and turn it over?? He demonstrates by plugging the spout with his finger while filling it, then quickly turns the jug right side up. The water stays in the jug. What?! How does that work? He pours water out the spout but still nothing is comes out the bottom. Ingenious!
We stop at Bahla Fort and opt to go inside despite it being over 40 degrees and not much shade. I enter a dark room, look up, give a small shriek and say, “bats!” while pointing into the corner. A couple of them fly off. Oh Lordy, they are so creepy hanging there with their beady little eyes. Apparently I won’t be entering any dark rooms in this fort. We’re wilting in the heat so find a little coffee shop for refreshments. It has separate little rooms for each group of guests so you have the option for privacy. The air conditioning is divine.
Continuing on to Al Abriyyin, we make a stop in Al Hamra which is an ancient town in an oasis. The remains of a souq has crumbling walls and collapsed roofs. Date palms grow in standing water and banana and mango trees dot the lush landscape. Paved walkways meander through the greenery beside cool water running in the falaj.
A steep, winding road leads us to Al Abriyyin where we’ll stay for the night at Harit Al Misfah Inn. The small village is built into the mountain, the stone buildings rising up over the palm trees. It’s a maze of stone stairs and pathways through the buildings and it takes us a few minutes to find it. Our inn is in a renovated building with 4 floors and a view overlooking the terraced mountainside. Stunning. I’m wishing I opted for a backpack instead of a suitcase now that I’m lugging it up and down a mountain, and by the time I reach the reception I’m drenched in sweat and huffing. And that was going down stairs, not up! The return trip to the car is going to be a workout.
We’re offered a room upgrade since there’s only one other room booked but unfortunately there’s only one double bed and I tell the hotelier that we need separate beds. This isn’t the first time Becca and I have been mistaken as a couple. Our room is cosy with our own bathroom and twin mattresses on the floor. The windows are shuttered and there’s a stone shelf for our luggage. Breakfast and dinner are included as there aren’t restaurant options in the area so we go for a wander on the surrounding trails before dinner.
We come across a tethered donkey who gives a loud bray as we walk past. A stone “swimming pool” has been carved into the mountainside and filled with the cool water pouring out of the falaj. Several young men are splashing around and yell out a friendly greeting. Continuing on, we see a man cutting and bundling grass with a small scythe before loading it onto his head and walking away on the path. Another man is maintaining the date palms and shows us how he climbs up the trunk with bare feet and a small strap attached to his waist. The area is lush with terraced plantations of date palms, grass and various foliage. Small inns dot the mountain side and we see several groups of visitors. Finding a rooftop patio overlooking the mountain, we purchase fresh fruit juice and enjoy the view in the peace and quiet. I go through my photos while Becca listens to a book before we head back to the inn for dinner.
