Dubai had already proven to be a costly playground—one needs deep pockets to indulge in its luxuries. Yet, here I sit at my table, watching the days slip away, with my upcoming trip to Oman marked in red on the calendar, fast approaching like time’s relentless scythe.
The landing was smooth, and from above, the city unfolded in a neat expanse of low-rise buildings, with asphalt roads snaking through the desert. It was Oman’s National Day—an occasion as grand as a third Eid for the country. The sun shone brightly, and everything looked immaculate as I exited Muscat airport.
On my way to Rozna—a fine-dining restaurant designed to resemble an ancient fort—I noticed the absence of towering skyscrapers. Instead, modern yet distinctly Islamic structures stood with ample space between them, a striking contrast to Oman’s Gulf neighbours. While other countries in the region raced to build ever-taller glass-and-steel marvels, Oman remained steadfast in preserving its vernacularly modern architectural heritage.
Instantly, I knew this trip would be different—one rich in urban experiences, rewarding in culture, steeped in history, and filled with stories waiting to be discovered in ancient alleys, grand forts, and bustling marketplaces. Oman’s charm lay not in shimmering skylines but in its earthy tones, wind-towered homes, and centuries-old souks alive with tradition.
In the vast courtyard of Rozna, business-men, families, tourists, local residents, all ate jovially in the glitz of National Day. The ambient sound of laughter, soft Arabic music and the clinking of cutlery filled the air. The mark of traditional Omani food is measured in the lightness of the dishes as opposed to spicy Indian cuisine. After the feast, I strolled about in the restaurant to ponder on its unique architecture. It draws inspiration from traditional Omani forts and castles, full of high ceilings, robust walls, heavy wooden doors and narrow staircases. The central courtyard, a nourishing element of the restaurant where you can lunch in fresh air under the sun, an element quite integral to the idea of “home” in India, can accommodate over 100 guests at once. I learned halfway through a spoonful at our table that Rozna also received the Silver A'Design Award in Architecture, Building, and Structure Design Category in 2022 for its excellence in architectural design.
Once out of Rozna, we stopped for refuelling. In Oman, everyone drives big cars and “you get petrol for nuggets,” our young local guide, Yaqoob Al Khalili told us. Apart from the fact that the nation has oil, this is owing to the expansive and well-maintained roads alongside the sparse population which has made the use of geographic landscape greatly possible. For a distance of 40 km, it takes a maximum of 30 minutes, Yaqood spoke amid stifled gasps. A fellow traveller and journalist now in lamentation dropped another fascinating tally at the sheikh’s remark. It took him about two hours to drive 40 km from his home to his office in Delhi. (That's desirable on the streets of Bangalore). In these figures, another one that unsettled me was the country’s population. As of 2023, Oman's total population stands at about 4.5 million, among which nearly 43 per cent are expatriates—the equivalent of the population of the southern chunk of Delhi in 2023, which stood at 2.7 to 3 million.
Once on the road again, we cruised through lanes flanked by comfortable administrative quarters and reached the Royal Opera House Muscat. Designed to reflect the contemporary Omani architecture and built on the royal orders of Sultan Qaboos of Oman, the Royal Opera House is a charming modern building which exudes calm through its limestone face and its vernacular motifs. The building covers an area as vast as 80,000 square metres, that is roughly equivalent to 14 football fields – yes! Its interiors are adorned with intricate marble which are at times Italian, carved wood that includes mahogany carvings and hand-painted zonaq decorations, crystal Austrian chandeliers and endless suchlike aesthetic elements that enchant the senses.
On a tour of the insides of the opera house, I figured that the major highlight is naturally the state-of-the-art opera house. Why? Because the opera house is constructed with provisions to convert the stage and seating arrangement to accommodate opera, orchestral concerts and even traditional performances. With a top-notch set of acoustics, the opera houses can seat about 1,100 people at once. Among the notable performances so far, the list includes names such as Plácido Domingo, Andrea Bocelli, the London Symphony Orchestra, and ballet companies such as the Mariinsky Ballet and the Bolshoi Theatre. Depending on the show, seating category and demand, the ticket prices vary from 5 OMR (INR 1,000) to 100 OMR (INR 22,000). The place also boasts dining options in its complex include high-end boutiques and exquisite restaurants, turning it into a cultural hotspot.
Towards the evening, we made for our hotel through streets studded with National Day celebrators. Omani flags, dresses of Omani stripes, fireworks and other such elements marked our way. Light traffic on account of city commuters heading off from Muscat to enjoy their holiday held our way. Soon we were at Crown Plaza, a hotel designed to resemble a ship, situated in the fashionable Al Qurum Heights near Qurum Beach. The idea behind the hotel being a ship is to highlight the maritime heritage of Oman. With a plush and modern feel, the hotel incorporates seafaring elements infused with attributes like mashrabiya (lattice screen) that adds a unique aesthetic while providing functional shading. At night after dinner, I stood at the double-deck infinity pool and absorbed the fresh ocean breeze. The soft lapping of the water felt like the turning of a book’s first page—a quiet promise that the chapters ahead would be filled with adventure and delight.
On my last day in Muscat, we set off for the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque. Completed in 2001, it stands as a strident symbol of Oman's spiritual and cultural identity. It was commissioned by Sultan Qaboos bin Said to mark his 30th year of reign. One of the main features of the mosque is the main prayer hall with its “Carpet of Wonder”. The wonderment behind the carpet is that it's the world's largest single-piece carpet, handwoven by about 600 Iranian artisans over four years. It covers about 47,750 square feet and contains 1.7 billion knots weighing 21 tons! The hall also boasts a chandelier suspended from the grand dome. The chandelier is the largest in the world crafted with Swarovski crystals and weighing 8.5 tons. The mosque can accommodate a whopping 20,000 worshippers simultaneously and the main prayer hall alone can fit 6,500 people at once. The five minarets symbolise the Five Pillars of Islam, all blending Islamic, Middle-Eastern and Omani architectural styles in full glory. The whole place took us two hours to explore and it felt like we’d just begun.
With our senses bombarded with visual magnanimity, we drove in silence for a while, heading for Nizwa, an ancient city famous for its 17th century fort, seasonal rivers and palm plantations. It also happened to be Yaqoob's hometown. Before sightseeing, we decided to get lunch and Yaqoob led us to a local restaurant putting his local awareness to use. In a huge room which was fully carpeted, we enjoyed a grand floor-setting lunch which included various types of meat, including camel, tender lamb and fragrant spiced chicken. Large platters of pulao infused with saffron and dried fruits changed hands. Kebabs, biryani, hummus and shawarma rotated around amid conversations of food experiences. Sitting cross-legged, sharing communal dishes and traditions, soon we were half-reclined and full in the gut. It was a good time for sightseeing.
As you look at the Nizwa Fort, its colossal circular tower instantly arrests your gaze. Standing at 112 feet, it dominates the cityscape with its formidable aura. What amused me most about the fort were the “murder holes”, a defensive mechanism through which defenders could pour boiling oil or water onto intruding opponents. The fort was built by Sultan bin Saif Al Yaarubi in the 17th century at the crossroads of vital trade routes. Just outside the fort is a souq where you'll find things ranging from old coins to incense. However, the most striking feature of the souq was the traditional Omani “khanjar”, or dagger, intricately hand-carved and designed to symbolise Omani heritage.
As the sun slowly dipped and our trinkets and mementos from the souq lay in our bags, we set off for Jabal Akhdar after a cup of Omani coffee, or qahwa. In an 80 km ride, half of which was uphill, Yaqoob slowly slid down the windows at a certain point and an unbidden chill hit our spines. With a grin, Yaqoob announced that we were in Jabal Akhdar, the Green Mountain. I realised how Oman's diverse terrain gives way to microclimates and an ecosystem that goes from plain deserts to fogged-hills within a range of 100 km.
Jabal Akhdar features an elevation going from 4,921 feet to 10,089 feet, with Jabal Shams being its highest peak. The terrain encompasses rugged mountain peaks, deep gorges, terraced farms and traditional, sleepy villages. As such, the terrain makes for a haven for nature enthusiasts and adventure seekers. It was dark when we arrived at our hotel, the dusitD2 Naseem Resort. Unprepared for the frosty weather, we gripped our thickest layers and hunch-walked around until dinner.
Ensconced at 6,561 feet on Oman’s highest mountain range, dusitD2 was cold. During dinner, four fire-heaters on each corner of the table kept us warm. Live Lebanese music also kept us company alongside strong, occasional winds. Other guests, among which a pair of Lebanese couples, danced and enjoyed the music. Mohamed Shoeib, the Director of Sales at dusitD2, an Egyptian who's been long in Oman, spoke about the challenges of running a hotel situated so remotely. “The supplies come in but sometimes we are cut-off, when there is a prolonged holiday,” he noted. Nevertheless, he continued, the cold air, the mountain and the landscape brought people together in ways nothing else could. As the night wore on, more guests joined in the dancing, their movements growing carefree with each beat. Shoeib, beaming with pride, looked around at the celebration. “It’s not something that happens all the time,” he said, his voice almost lost in the music. “When we started, we didn’t know if the mountain would embrace us, the land has its own rules.” His eyes glistened as he spoke of the hotel’s journey. “Oman has a special way of holding you; people come here to find peace and perhaps a part of themselves.” As the music reached its peak, the dancers formed a circle, their joy infectious, the night suddenly feeling timeless, as if it would never end. In that moment, it was clear that this mountain, this place, had become something more than just a destination—it had become a memory in the making, one that would be passed down through generations for all present.
For the second leg of this journey—into the breathtaking realms of Salalah, Jebel Samhan, and Mirbat, where natural beauty and diverse landscapes await—grab our Feb-March 2025 issue from the newsstands.
