THE CHARMS OF OMAN
Chic, peaceful, beguiling — this Arabian kingdom is now a hot ticket
WHeN sprinkling celebrity stardust on your mountain-top hotel, aim high. At the Anantara Al Jabal Al Akhdar in northern Oman, there is a glasssided walkway projecting over a dizzying drop to the canyon below. This is Diana’s Point where, in 1986, the Prince and Princess of Wales were helicoptered in to admire the view, read a book (her) and paint watercolours (him) before being whisked away.
Now, at ‘the highest five-star resort in the Middle east’, 2,000 metres above sea level, there is a table-setting where couples can enjoy a pizza from the Bella Vista restaurant, one of six eateries, before walking it off to a wadi (valley) or trying a spot of abseiling.
The hotel, a dusky-brown complex, is set around the ridge of the canyon, with spa, tennis court, clubs for kids and infinity pools with views fit for a princess. It opened at the end of October.
Oman is currently hot — in every sense. Year-round temperatures stay up in the 20s and hit the 40s in summer, but it’s cooler in the mountains. BA has just launched a new direct service from Heathrow to Muscat.
The Sultanate wants to turn its oil money into more tourism, without changing the low-rise, traditional character of the place.
A two-hour drive through the mountains, interrupted only by the occasional historic hilltop lookout, and we climb to Jebel Akhdar, the ‘green mountain’. Many peaks are made of marble, so the hotel’s devotion to shiny opulence seems appropriate. Authentic luxury is the Anantara motto.
An hour away lies Nizwa, the historic centre of Oman.
On a Friday at dawn, we set off for its most important weekly event, the goat market: hundreds of vendors resplendent in dishdashas parade round a ring, goats in tow, shouting prices.
Off to the side stand Bedouin women with their faces masked. Young camels bought earlier wait patiently in the car park.
There is little window dressing for visitors here. In the no-hassle local souk we buy three sorts of date, but pass on the rifles.
We are in a hurry to get to Jabreen Castle, which dates from the 17th-century origins of the country. From its restored battlements and through its arrow slits you look out across a great plain towards the old spice routes, and get a strong whiff of the strategic importance of this trading nation.
The next day we go hiking in the hills with ‘mountain guru’ Tariq.
Among many mystical insights, I learn how to use shash, the abundant wild herb we encounter, in the preparation of shuwa, Oman’s main culinary gift to the world: lamb smothered in herbs and spices and then buried with charcoal for 24 hours until molten.
On our return, shuwa is on the lunch menu, and it’s as good as advertised.
Oman’s modern history starts in 1970 with the reign of the current Sultan who, despite having Saudi Arabia to the west and Yemen to the south, has created as progressive, developed and safe a country as you will find in this region.
HIS greatest monument is the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque: a vast, opulent, tiled marvel that we ogle as part of a tour of Muscat on our way for a taste of the Omani seaside (and a sight of turtles and dolphins) at the vast Shangri-La resort.
On our first day, we head off for a two-hour cruise around the Gulf of Oman to search for the dolphins that are reputed to gather here in their hundreds. Not this time.
The sea turns choppy and we instead explore the coastline, including historic graffiti by British sailors on the rocks of natural harbours. Poor timing on the turtles, too: the hotel has three beaches where they hatch, and you can register to be alerted 24/7, but we have missed the last of the season. We do see a couple bobbing by in the sea, however. Our Oman experience concludes with a dinner of local lobster, and a belly dance by a lithe and optimistic Lithuanian: ‘No thank you, madam,’ I reply to her invitation, ‘I would rather ride a camel bareback.’
An authentic response, I’d say.