Muscat, Oman

Muscat, Oman. This place too, was very mountainous. It is very clean and far more built up then Fujairah. It was not the ultra resort city of Dubai, but still very nice in at least the places we were shown. Like most other Muslim cities, there were Mosques every 500 meters as required by Muslim law. The beaches were very nice and there were many green areas. Most of the shopping was at bazaars or souks. We saw no shopping malls like those at home. As the literature says, this place is much more the real thing and not artificial like most of the resort areas in the region.

As usual in places we have not been and know nothing about, we took a bus tour. First was a drive through a nice residential area and then on to the Grand Mosque.

This thing is unreal. Inside and out everything is the finest marble. Floors, walls, columns, and ceilings inside and out. The interior is the size of a football field. The four entrances outside are each equal in size and they too are all in marble. The interior is carpeted in hand woven materials and runs from wall to wall taking three years to finish. There are hand carved doors, mosaics on the walls, stained glass windows, and highly decorated domed ceilings with elaborate crystal chandeliers. Everything was gorgeous and very tastefully done except they make you take off your shoes to walk inside, but socks were okay. Everyone had to wear shirts with sleeves and the women’s had to be down to the wrist. No shorts were allowed and men and women had to wear clothes that covered the ankles. Women had to also wear something to completely cover their heads and hair. Bobbi was really neat in a black long scarf covering her head and most of her face. She looked like and could have passed for a real Muslim.

Almost all the mosques, everywhere we have been, do not allow us infidels to enter. This one not only allowed it, but encouraged it and even allowed picture taking with flash and movie camera.

Next was back the same way we came along the ocean. We passed by the ship on our way to the museum. This one was a Private, real museum unlike some of the junk warehouses we previously witnessed. Not only did it have very good and interesting displays, it had a real American style, fairly clean men’s room, which I was now badly in need of.

Even though the place was very crowded, I immediately made it too said room. Upon entering I made it toward the one and only sit down facility at the aforesaid location. A few standing in my way did get trampled but it was in good cause as no one would have wanted to witness the alternative, had I waited much longer. I had thought my infirmity of the days before had subsided as I had no symptoms that night or this morning. Wrong! Even though I was in a well separated stall, people could be heard coughing and gasping as they stampeded from the room.

After the museum we drove through various areas of the city and we stopped at the palace of Sultan Qaboos called the Al Alam Palace overlooking Muscat bay. It is built between two medieval forts built by the Portuguese toward the end of the 16th century.

Next it was back along the coast and the ship to a souk that carried all kinds of items for both the locals and tourists. If we had the time, it had very narrow alleys in many directions where we were warned it was easy to get lost. There was really nothing for us to buy but Bobbi bought stuff anyhow. I wanted one of those big curved swords with the hand carved silver and gold scabbards, but after finding out they were real silver and gold and real expensive, I forgot about it.

After about an hour of looking around, the bus came back to pick us up. It was only a five minute ride back to the ship. It was about 1:00 PM and we were not due to leave until 6:00 PM.

The guide had been a Muslim wearing the usual dress as did everyone in Muscat. Most of the people there were friendly and he was very friendly. As we were entering the port area he asked us how he did while thanking us and explaining this was his first time as a tour guide. As we left the bus and gave the guide his tip I told him I would have never known it was his first time. I had thought it had to be his second time. It took him a while. They are not very swift or maybe they don’t get American or Sherman humor. Whatever, he was still mumbling something to himself as we walked away.

At 4:00 PM the doctors office opens again and I was third in line. Art had been first. He just needed another blood pressure check and did not take much time. He said the doctor told him he would live. The lady who was next, took very little time also, then it was my turn. Probably because he is 6 foot 3 inches, the doctor asks everyone to sit down as he talks to them. As I mentioned in a past log, the doctor is Russian or maybe Slav and barely speaks English. He points to the chair and says what sounds to me like
sh - -. I guess he must have meant sit, as he gave me a very funny look when I said, “no, I can’t now, I just did.” Maybe you had to be there? Anyhow, he said it sounds like something I picked up in India and he gave me some meds and a menu to follow for the next 24 hours. There wasn’t much on that menu.

We went to the main restaurant for dinner. I was able to get chicken broth with a matzo ball in it, sherbet, a cut up banana and I was allowed rice. The waiter, Joey, was real cute and brings out this huge whole jello mold of rice that had to weigh three pounds. I did eat a lot of it and had sugar free jello for dessert.

So far so good. The meds and or the food is working, however, that little bit of food was not the usual hog trough full I have become accustom to. Late at night, in my sleep, I became very hungry and without bothering to wake up, I went foraging for something to eat. I obviously didn’t bother to open my eyes either, as I tripped over the desk chair and fell on my head. Luckily it was my head as there is nothing to worry about damaging there but it did leave a big mark on the side of my forehead where it bounced off the desk. When asked about that mark I just explain that my wife is very mean and beats me a lot.

Wife Beaten Sherm Out.