High in the mountains of Oman and along its beaten coastline, I stumbled upon an unexpected slice of heaven thanks to a friend’s recommendation. I even started for a few extra amenities for a mishmash of poor meets paradise.
I first visited Oman in 2018 after making regular one or two day stopovers in Abu Dhabi, Dubai or Qatar to break up long flights between Europe and Asia. And although it’s about an hour’s flight from these bustling and hot cities, Oman can feel almost removed from time, whether you’re in the Hajar Mountains that cut a strip through the northern tip of the country or plunging into the choppy waves of the Arabian Sea further south .
I had read about the country’s wild and often empty coastline that stretches nearly 2,000 miles, but mountain hiking in the Bay Area was a new experience for me. What I discovered was a cinematic “Dune”-like landscape of deserts, mountains and steep canyons punctuated by centuries-old terraced cultivation. The landscape then plunged into the vast desert of the Rub’ al-Khali (“the empty quarter” in Arabic) and rivaled anything I had ever seen.
Bordered by Yemen, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, this country of nearly 4.7 million people was transformed over the decades by Sultan Qaboos bin Said, who died in 2020. He had ousted his father with a bloodless coup, supported by the British. embraced modernism — and a host of oil and gas fields — in the 1970s.
The country has a fascinating maritime history – the Omani empire once stretched as far south as Zanzibar in the late 17th century – and a relaxed and accepting atmosphere rooted in Ibadism, which is often seen as a more moderate branch of Islam.
It has ostensibly maintained political neutrality for decades, despite being located in an at times volatile region. The northeastern tip of Oman is about 1,500 miles from Sana’a, the capital of Yemen. Salalah, closer to Yemen to the south, is about 900 miles from the mouth of the Red Sea, a body of water where attacks on cargo ships have been reported. (The US State Department currently advises “heightened caution” for travelers, and Britain says “travel advice for Oman could change at short notice.”)
And old-world charm lurks throughout Oman, particularly high up on Jabal Akhdar (loosely translated as “green mountain” in Arabic), one of the highest peaks in the Hajar range, 70 miles southwest of the capital, Muscat. Although these mostly limestone mountains are usually barren and beige, the lush green farms inspired the name. (Think Bali’s rice paddies on the sides of rocky canyons.) Snowfall in winter and fog from clouds caught on the high peaks create rainfall and the country’s complex ‘aflaj’ irrigation systems, believed to date back to ancient times. maximize the effect of water in this forbidding landscape.
Local growers sell their garden’s bounty to residents as well as resorts, including Alila Jabal Akhdar, which says most of the food on its menu is grown on the property or bought from rooftop farmers.
At Anantara Al Jabal Al Akhdar, perched atop a plateau at 6,500 feet above sea level, hiking or cycling through the mountains and valleys is offered on organized tours. At an overlook called Diana’s Point, where Diana, Princess of Wales, once stood to gaze at the stars, you can hear the Muslim call to prayer echoing from two villages several times a day.
Both resorts, with rooms from about $500 to $600, offer guided tours of 400-year-old abandoned villages with stunning views of the emptiness of rolling canyons.
Although I flew on a commercial airline in Oman, guests with a bigger budget than mine do have the option of paragliding. Six Senses Zighy Bay offers the option of a bird-like arrival from a nearby mountain peak on the last leg of a two-hour journey from Dubai International Airport.
Nestled among the gorges framed by the turquoise waters that define Oman’s narrow, northernmost tip in the Straits of Hormuz, this resort has come to define Omani seclusion at its most exclusive, with rooms starting at around $1,500. (It’s known as a celebrity honeymoon getaway, including for Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra in 2018, and Lindsay Lohan spent part of her pregnancy there last year.)
Further south, the largely undeveloped coastline of the Arabian Sea attracts a large crowd of Europeans in winter, and in summer Gulf residents flee the searing heat for the monsoons that shroud this coast in mist. The climate allows for miles of coconut palms and banana trees that serve as a sort of tropical backdrop to the beaches that are never crowded.
Salalah, the main city on the southeastern tip of Oman, is home to several resorts, but its crown jewel is the Anantara Al Baleed with its endless beach and private pool villas, which will set you back about $650 a night. Regular rooms start around $350 to $375. (About an hour’s drive east of Salalah, the Alila hotel group, a Hyatt luxury brand, opened its second property in Oman, in secluded Hinu Bay).
A visit to Anantara Al Baleed in December offered a study in tourism meets local color. Four camels went wild in the surf one day to the delight of a few of us splashing in the water. Two days later, dozens of fishermen casting handmade nets caught thousands of sardines, carrying them on their backs from the relentless waves and onto trucks. The resort is adjacent to the Museum of the Frankincense Land, which offers a fascinating look into the history of this coveted aromatic resin that was once as valuable as gold.
Most trips to Oman, including mine, start in Muscat, which has its charm despite its Dubai-like traffic and urban sprawl. My two-day stopover included attending a performance at the Muscat Royal Opera House, which was a complete revelation for this lifelong opera fan. Tours of the site are also available for about $7.50. Built in 2011, the layers of white stone and marble Arabic arches evoke a grand Middle Eastern citadel. In my black jeans, blazer and tie, I felt a bit of elbow-crunching with perfectly framed men in traditional plates (the white formal wear) and masars (the colorfully embroidered cloth headdresses).
Even more opulent is the city’s opulent Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque with its 8.5-ton crystal chandelier and expansive carpet, said to have taken four years to weave by hand. The mosque was opened to the public in 2001 to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the Sultan’s reign.
But I wanted to get out of the city and into the nature I had heard so much about. I booked a car and driver (for about $120) to drive me three hours through the wild landscape the next day. It was like being transported to mountains on the moon, but in a luxury four-wheel drive vehicle on smooth paved roads. My driver, Saud, drove the winding coastal highway past blue coastlines with huge rock formations that jut like islands out of the sea, eventually turning right onto the steep road to rugged Jabal Akhdar.
Saud told me that in his youth, he and his grandfather traveled by camel from their gardens to Muscat twice a year to sell fruits, vegetables, garlic and roses. Theirs was a two-day journey and along the way they ate pomegranate seeds. Now, some 50 years later, Saud leads tourists who want to walk the empty canyons of his youth and enjoy the food from these gardens in the sky.
That night at dinner, my salad was sprinkled with pomegranate seeds. In the warmth of Alila Jabal Akhdar’s cozy dining room, I thought about Saud and our drive to a piece of paradise. I’ll probably never go paragliding in Oman, but I felt like I’d winged something good.
