Today we moved further in our Greek adventures, down the coast to the small town of Parga. We decided to do our loop of Greece anti-clock-wise. From Parga we continue onto the only Iodian island that you can drive onto via a pier. We made it around to the south to Poros Beach. The campground there was closed but the owner allowed us to stay anyway…and for free on top of it all.
I had worked myself up into a ripe old mood. What a horrendous campground. I knew of the downside (one looong line, with facilities only on one end), but I did not expect the price. 10€ “festival extra”, only that no one had told us on the phone about it. So we paid the extra with no time to even maybe go and enjoy the reason. Bottom line: Most expensive night so far, for a farcically bad camp. The view was good, but everyone was drunk – snoring and farting – and the loo was so far off that everyone else kept going there by car! To top it of, of course they would drive all the way past our end to turn their cars around noisily.
Breakfast and packing was enhanced by the sound and utter stink of the next door camper’s diesel started up and then left running unattended for 25 minutes! What is wrong with people?
I was not a good husband or cheerleader that morning, but we powered through it and got to Ireland’s northernmost point, Marlin Head, by 10am. There was a promise of great coffee and pastries served by a legendary food truck in the Lonely Planet, and when pulling into the parking lot, the truck at least was there on top of the hill. After a friendly chat we took off for a little 1km cliff walk to be (hopefully) finished off by second breakfast on top of the hill.
Hell’s hole was maybe less impressive than usual, thanks to the brilliant weather and 23° C “heat wave” currently hitting the North of Ireland. Usually, water pushes up this narrow rift in foaming gusts, but with almost no wind, there was not much of a show. Still a very scenic walk.
The top of the hill did not disappoint and once again, we had some treats, coffee and tea before heading off again. The treats were pretty good, but the coffee was excellent and the service world class. Back at the car park we even managed to settle some of our eternal karma debt after chatting with an older Dutch couple on two sharp looking road bikes. She had slipped on the fresh split seal and cracked an indicator – something our handy supply of duct and electrical tape could help sort out in no time.
Lunch was a touch late, but we were well prepared. Even without picknick tables, the Grianán of Aileách along the way was an almost perfect backdrop. We dropped our picknick blanket and had sandwiches in this place that immediately made obvious why it had been the site of some sort of fortification for at least 2000 years. The views over Lough Swilly and Lough Foyle were spectacular, all the way over back the Inishowen Peninsula and to Northern Ireland.
We thought there might have been another opportunity for a stop on the 1 hour and 20 scenic drive up to our camp for the day, but with kids falling asleep and potty breaks, we just kept going. After all, the camp for the day promised to be an attraction in its own right. And for once, it held up.
The camp was set up in terraces up the slope of a hill with great views of a golden sand beach. The spot we got was great, with a serene view. There was enough time left for the kids to spend some time at the beach, getting their feet wet in water way too cold for my taste. To round it off, we had a beautiful dinner once again from a vegetarian travel cook book very good friends gave us as a present a few years ago. Halloumi and black beans, delicious!
Now hanging out, catching up on blogging and trip planning while the kids are asleep. The weather is still nice enough to be out without wishing for a pocket oven and a shelter. Good times.
P.S.: Oh, I forgot, the title: The Agent of Entropy has learnt that sheep are interesting as roadside attractions. Plus, black sheep are extra special, as they feature in two of their children’s books. So every damn black sheep we pass triggers about 25 hyped up: “black sheep, black sheep! Mama! Black sheeeeeeep!”. As a reminder, we are in rural Ireland … 😀
Leaving our camping spot near the sand dunes in the morning
It was still hot in the morning, probably even 30°C. The ground did not cool down either and still felt warm to the touch. We got up as early as we could and went through our morning routine in a hurry. Back on the road it was just bearable. We really chose the last possible time to do Oman reasonably comfortable on a motorbike. Temperature-wise it would be perfect December to March, but at least so we dodge most of the other tourists.
We reached Nizwa by about 10 am. We could have had lunch then, but decided to do the tour of the old town first, this time.
Looking down into the inner yard
The local fort and castle were pretty impressive and very neatly restored and presented. We also had a stroll around the old town, with its mud-brick houses and gardens full of date palms and vegetables. The equally renovated souq had to wait a bit though, since by then our stomachs were loudly demanding attention.
With a full stomach and an equally saturated mind, we were ready to tackle the road up the Saiq plateau on Jebel Akhdar. The road is a famously tough drive and only permitted by 4WD. We wanted to camp up there and explore a bit more tomorrow. We should not get any further than the police check-point at the foot of the pass, though. Only 4WD … no motorcycle … why? Because these are the rules. Of course he believed our bike could do it … we did too, we have ridden in Timor-Leste and Sumatra. No, the rules. Could have gotten a special permit from the Ministry in Muscat, but did not know.
A couple of kilometers further in we had to turn around at the check point
So once again, we got turned away. Not because there is a good reason or safety concern, but just because bikes like ours are an afterthought and it’s not worth having proper regulation for them. We were so gutted. Jebel Akhdar is the only place in Oman where rosewater is produced, and the roses would be in full bloom right now …
After half an hour of sulking and having insult to injury added by hawkers trying to pimp us a ride in their 4×4 for $140 we decided to continue on with the route we had planned for tomorrow and just pick a camp spot when it was time.
View into the direction we have come from
It got better again then, as we rode up the beautiful road to the mountain village of Hat. It was sealed all the way to the top and down to Hat on the other side and would continue from there as a graded gravel track to the other side up at the coast. But we still wanted to go up Jebal Shams, which is best accessed from the south, so we turned around at the top of the road.
On our way up we saw a bunch of lovely camp spots near the road. Most of them had weekend picnickers when we came up, but a really nice shaded spot had freed up in the meantime. So we pitched out tent on the flanks of a different mountain than we thought. It was lovely and beautiful and nice and cool (up 1500m) and anything we could ask for, so we were happy again. Not even the horrible dinner (spaghetti bought in Muscat a week ago) could spoil it for us.
The morning started out sunny, in more than one way. The sun was actually up and we finally got a chance to really sleep as long as we want. Breakfast was good as well (and also cheap, thanks to the kitchen in our studio). We even fully caught up on blogging, to the point that I am just writing this on the day, as it happened.
Finally got it. Been driving through it for about five times by now!
We booked two nights in Muscat, so this was our day to go back to town to explore and take heaps of photos. Pretty much only take photos, because today is Friday and most museums are closed on Fridays. So we saddled our bike in the usual town setup with empty panniers and a ready backpack and got going some time after 9 am. The plan was to roughly follow a walking tour suggested in the lonely planet.
Since we were not feeling like going to the fish market and had done the Souq last night, we did the first km along the promenade on the bike until we were below Mutrah fort. We parked our bike in the shadow of this impressive piece of Portuguese heritage and made on our way around it to maybe find a way up and inside. We failed, but judging by the works that were going on near the entrance, future travelers might have better luck than us.
Looking out to the harbour
By this point, more and more clouds had gathered overhead. Good in principle because they keep the midday sun at bay, this time the sky looked a bit more serious. Sheets of rain could be seen over the sea and hills to the north-west. We still decided to keep walking a little bit more along the corniche towards Old Muscat. All around, police and workmen were busy preparing for some sort of event along the road. We saw at one point that there would be a show-run of the Red Bull F1 team tonight. Nothing that sparked our interest, though …
There was a bit of back and forth about how far we would walk when I saw another option in the guidebook. Apparently, there was a hiking path from Al-Riyam park back to where we had parked Rocinante. Once back, we could get on the bike and ride the remaining 3 km to Old Muscat and explore further. The guide book recommended sturdy shoes, but how bad could it be in the middle of town?
I’m mostly for scale
As it turned out – the track was really all out hiking. The path was well marked, but went up over steep steps and along a ridge. The last kilometer was down a narrow wadi. It was spectacular! Beautiful views of both the city and the hills, serene peace in little valleys and almost total quiet in some places. Unfortunately, the weather was a bit fickle at this point, with bits of light rain now and again. What really got to Nina though was the building up in the sky a couple of kilometers further, with regular thunder and lightning going. Although we were in a wadi, there was still not much to worry about. We were really close to town (although out of sight) and even in case of flooding could have climbed our way out.
About two thirds in, we were overtaken by a jolly group of four early-twenties Omani guys. They were real charmers and helped to calm Nina down a lot. We even got some wild sorrel they had found to try. It was really good. At one point we spotted a snake – something I had been looking forward to since Australia. It was not too big and pretty shy, so there is no photo, but wohoo!
From the end of the track (ending at the wall of a protective dam) it were only a couple of meters to our bike. We came out of the track just in time for lunch, so we hopped on and made our way to Old Muscat to a recommended cheap restaurant. Along the way, we saw that the preparations along the corniche had progressed a lot. One direction was now completely fenced in and police was setting up checkpoints along the route.
Iconic Muscat photo with Rocinante
The sky got darker and darker during lunch. That led us to decide to modify the walking tour a bit more and do it on the bike instead. The Sultan’s Palace and two more forts framing the harbour were the highlights of this part. When the rain started for real, we were ready to call it a day and head back to the hotel. This time, the police was on the road and directed the traffic onto a back road. Seems the Red Bull party was about to start … shame about the weather.
Slightly soaked we arrived at the hotel. Even though it was only just 3 pm, we called it there. I only went out one more time to pick up fresh veg from the supermarket for a dinner of delicious sandwiches and fresh strawberries with yoghurt for dessert. Tomorrow will be an early start to make it to the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque by 8 am.
Once again, the day was filled with unforgettable moments – amazing and terrifying alike. Although we have been doing this for 8 month now, we are still surprised by how these things work out. Most importantly, we are humbled by the unending friendliness and hospitality of the people we encounter along the way.
Rise and shine. Time to get moving again.
Good thing we got up with Lina and Michael today as the early start gave us plenty of time to pack. After eight stationary days, almost everything was unpacked. We also wanted to be good house guests and clean up a little after ourselves. 😉 There were a lot of administrative things we weren’t up to date with and so on and so forth. Lina had said that she will have time off from teaching from 9.40 am onward for a bit so we could drop by at school to hand back the keys.
Arriving at about 10 am, we handed everything back, showed Lina and Jorge the fully loaded bike and said good-bye until we’re on our way back out of Oman. It is weird to leave again. We’re looking forward to exploring Oman immensely, but catching up with her and Michael and living in a real flat had been amazing. Now, we were heading to Muscat, about 250 km from Sohar, which is the capital of Oman.
Waving goodbye to our temporary home away from home
Being on the road was different from our last experiences in Southeast Asia. For one, traffic is moving really fast with a speed limit of 120 km/h. But most importantly, drivers reacted to us, something which hasn’t happened in Thailand at all. There would be a tentative honk from behind and then a car would pass us on the fast lane, giving us a thumbs up or a wave or a smile. That was actually quite lovely.
When we were just over the half-way mark, we had a coffee stop. Flo enjoyed the roadside coffee a lot – it seems to have been flavoured with spices. I, however, bought a thin, honeyed pancake as a snack and can only approve of that. 😉 English is spoken widely so we had no trouble ordering food and explaining our trip as the interest in the motorbike was incredible. At the gas station, staff studied our world map before we even finished re-fueling so that it took us a moment to get where the “2015…long trip” comment was coming from. 🙂
Over the first hill. Next up, Matrah and Old Muscat.
Moving, the temperature was fine, just standing in the grilling sun was getting to us again. I took a couple of pictures on the road but really, it was getting into the center of Muscat that was eye-opening. The city sprawls for quite a while before you actually see the sea on one side and the mountains on all three other sides.
We headed to the waterfront as this is the “budget” area. The hotel we had seen in the Lonely Planet was closed and under construction so we asked around in the hotels close by. They were all lovely but way more than we need. This fact was reflected in the price. 60 euro for one night? *cough* They all pretty much stuck to this price. There doesn’t seem to be much backpacker tourism going on which makes more affluent people the most likely candidate for the rooms available. We checked Agoda and one of the hotels further inland had a rate of 40 euro per night. When we arrived, we got a gigantic room including a tv, a kitchen and a bathroom with a bathing tub. All of this is very nice but pricey so we will (have to) camp as much as possible from now on.
With enough space for 20000, the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque is a sight to behold.
People were incredibly nice to us though. They stopped on the street to have a chat when I was waiting for Flo next to the bike. Some recommended things, others were mostly interested in our travels. There’s a cruise ship in the harbour at the moment, so the German tourists also came by, had a chat and took a picture. I think the most adorable instance was an Omani asking to take a picture of us and then explaining that he is a motorcycle driving instructor.
By the time we’d checked in and unloaded our luggage, it was 3pm. Very hungry, we went out in search for food. Nothing around our hotel was open (siesta?) so we ended up back at the waterfront. Driving around Muscat revealed pretty views but my camera was packed away for most of it. You go along roads, a view opens up and suddenly there are jagged mountains, often even with a round tower or a fort on it. It makes the whole situation slightly unreal and simply looks like a fairy tale. In between the houses, mosques are dotted and you can see domes everywhere, even on the bus stop shelters.
A lot of necklaces
After “lunch”, it was 4.30pm. Instead of rushing to a museum which would close at 6pm, we went into the Mutrah Souq. I was instantly slightly overwhelmed by all the goods, the smells (mostly incense) and again, the attention we attracted in our motorcycle gear. The souq is a maze of alleyways, more or less covered, with stalls selling just about everything. We already found a sticker of the Oman flag to put on the motorbike plus, I bought all of the postcards I will write from Oman.
Pretty dead from a long day, we bought groceries on the way back to the hotel and crashed.
