Christmas in Oman

Four days have flown by since our arrival in Oman. The weather has been unrelentingly glorious, throwing up day after day of cloudless blue sky and warm temperatures in the mid-20s. We’ve spent most of our time crashed out by the hotel pool, napping in the sun and ordering the occasional cocktail. In fact we’ve yet to leave the hotel grounds.


Our hotel is wonderful. It sits on a the edge of an almost vacant beach front, surrounded by simple, low-profile white buildings that stretch as far as the eye can see along an uncluttered coastline. All of Muscat seems to consist of white, low-profile buildings; neatly framed by a coastal range of stark, barren mountains. As I type, the local mosque is calling for evening prayer as a golden sun slowly sets.


Muscat is a rare find. I don’t think we could have chosen a better place to unwind. The overall impression here is that of a sleepy seaside town; one spared the character destroying over-development so common along the English Channel coast or anywhere along the Mediterranean. At times Oman feels so removed from reality that it's almost a caricature. It’s as if we’ve stepped into the pages of a classic Tintin comic book. Yet the buildings really are white, capped by jagged battlements, and the locals really are walking around in crisp, clean, white disdashas robes and red-check Gotra headgear.


Today, we spent Christmas with 500 other guests enjoying a sumptuous outdoor Christmas buffet. The entire central lawn of our hotel was given over to decorated tables and buffet stations offering roasted meat of all forms, salads and some of the most exotic dishes I’ve ever seen. Roast Wild Boar or Guinea Fowl anyone? In keeping with Australian tradition, after lunch, we wandered down to the beach for a quick paddle in the sea. Merry Christmas everyone!