Oh Man! It's Beautiful

Ahlan wa Sahlan wa MarHabn bekom (I passed my final Arabic exam so now have a certificate in Beginners' Arabic).

For those who don't yet know, the reason for the haitus in writing is that I have been promoted. I am no longer editing other people's writing, instead I am doing the writing: I am a sports reporter!

Sounds glamorous, but unless you consider going three rounds with a professional boxer glamorous then it's actually "bloody" hard work - and quite dangerous! We sparred for a while and although Eisa "the Arabian Warrior" Aldah was pulling his punches, he still had a bit of agression going on. I've also been covering the Masters six-a-side football tournament featuring players such as Frank 'Wheresaburds' MacAvennie, Mark Walters and John Barnes.

I've also had visitors since the last time I wrote: Chris and Fiona came out for 10 days.

We went to a Friday Brunch, which is Dubai tradition. It involves paying a small fee and being served all the food and alcohol you can drink. And I don't just mean pints of Stella Artois, I mean Champagne, Mojitos, wine, beer... Food wise we're talking, lobster, scallops, steak, sushi, pasta, meatloaf, pan-fried chicken in Jim Beam sauce... etc, etc. Scrumptious.

We also took a couple of days out of Dubai and drove to Muscat, the capital of Oman - despite Fiona being initially apprehensive because of the old Middle Eastern adage that is "terrorism".

Anyway, having received a travel diary from Paul and Lyndsey before leaving for Dubai last August, I have been writing in it whenever I've left the emirate. Below is the diary entry for Muscat:

"...we experienced some authentic Arabia, opposed to the man-made monolithic skyscrapersof Dubai.

A six-and-a-half hour drive got us to the Omani capital, but finding our accommodation would have likely taken us a further six hours had we not asked a taxi driver to take us there.

We stayed at the Oman Diving Centre and on arrival we all concurred that the long drive had been worth it. As the taxi we were following slowly climbed the twisting trail through the mountainside, getting higher and higher into the clouds, all we could see in all directions was more mountains. They seemed never ending. Car morale was at an all-time low [Fiona's terrorism fear was probably at an all-time high as we were following an Arab driver out into the middle of nowhere].

When we reached the summit and started our descent, we caught a glimpse of the Gulf of Oman through two mountain faces and our mouths fell open in awe.

To the left of us, between two huge jagged rocks, sat a small paradisical cove; white sandy beaches enticing a gentle tide of clear aqua-blue water up onto the shore, an old wooder boat docked and bobbing calmly just out at sea, a handful of fishermen wading in from the boat with the catch of the day, and a cluster of beautiful wooden beach huts.

The beach huts, on closer inspection, were simply sublime. The whole scene was exactly how I imagined the deserted island in Alex Garland's The Beach to look, but the huts gave an exotic edge to our Arabian adventure.

Myself and Matt [for he also had friends visiting and the six of us made it a road-trip holiday] shared Hut 26. The front door locked from the outside with a padlock and from the inside with a wooden slat slipped through the opposing doors. As for the bathroom, it was outside, but by far the most accomodating outdoor washroom I've ever showered in.

With rocks and boulders cemented together to form the walls and a peaked roof made from bamboo canes, it would be easy to believe the hut was as neanderthalic as it looked, but on investigation, the entire hut was air-conditioned, fully lit and was even stocked with a mini bar (One Beer: 1.5 Omani Riyals, £1.70).

With the temperature reaching five or six degrees higher than Dubai, we spent most of our first afternoon going from beach-lounger to ocean and ocen to volleyball court.

The restaurant offered large portions of food for very reasonable prices and were it not for the plague of flies, the Thai Green Curry that I had would have been near-perfect. Indoor eating is the answer in Oman.

At night, included in the price of the beach hut, we were treated to a three-course buffet that included soup, salad, bread, fresh fish, lamb, rice, beef, creme caramel, jelly and chocolate cake.

The only added expense we faced was that of alcohol, but when you are drinking red wine, or a bottle of chilled beer, taken straight from your own personal mini-bar and paying less than you would in a bar in Glasgow let alone Dubai - and you are drinking it on a driftwood-assembled patio, looking at the stars and commenting on how "the constellations are upside down in this part of the world" and all the time basking in the surreal tranquillity of the silent Omani desert, it is hard to really complain too much."

So that was Muscat: a terrorism free paradise. To quote Chris afterwards: "I think the next time we come out, we'll just meet you in Oman". Two thumbs up.