Category Archives: Travel

Travel post: The sultanate of Oman

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We’ve reached that glorious time of the year when travel around the GCC is a blissful mix of perfect temperatures and vibrant culture. Oman, with its mountain ranges, wadis and dramatic landscapes, is hard to beat. Right on the UAE’s doorstep, the sultanate is still infused with the spirit of deepest Arabia and welcomes tourists with a warm and genuine hospitality.

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Grand scenery: Oman’s Empty Quarter lives up to its name

Gold, frankincense and mirth in old Arabia

Once a sleepy backwater of the Arab world, Oman has been transformed over recent decades by the modernising zeal of Sultan Qaboos bin Said Al Said.

When he rose to power in a palace coup in 1970, there were only 10 kilometres of paved roads, and the sultanate was suffering from rising poverty and illiteracy rates. Today, the picturesque country boasts an extensive network of highways, up-to-date facilities and a rapidly expanding service sector.

Yet, despite the modernisation drive, Oman still offers a refreshing reminder of a bygone age. A wonderfully exotic winter-sun destination, it is one of the best places in the Gulf to experience traditional Arabia, complemented by a natural beauty and a variety of climate and geography unrivalled in the region.

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Sandstone: The Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque can host up to 20,000 worshipers

City tour
The capital Muscat is in fact three smaller towns that have grown together over time: Muscat, often referred to as the ‘walled city’ and the site of the royal palaces; Muttrah, originally a fishing village; and Ruwi, the commercial and diplomatic centre.

Swarovski crystal: The enormous chandelier in the grand mosque weighs 8.5 tonnes

Swarovski crystal: The enormous chandelier in the grand mosque weighs 8.5 tonnes

Don’t leave the capital without seeing the Royal Opera House Muscat (the first opera house in the Gulf, built from Omani desert rose stone and stucco wall coverings, and surrounded by landscaped gardens); the Sultan Qaboos Grand Mosque; the Portuguese forts in the Old Town; and the Bait Al Zubair Museum, containing a wealth of information and exhibits on the country’s culture, tradition and heritage.

Shopping in Muscat’s ancient Muttrah souk is an unmissable experience, with bargains to be had, especially sumptuous pashminas and gold jewellery. While in Muttrah, step into the fish market and stroll along the corniche, taking in the beautiful merchant houses.

Exploring the sultanate
While a city tour is fascinating in itself, and a dolphin-spotting cruise off Muscat’s coast is sure to delight the family, you’ll also want to venture further afield.

Varied: From the fort-dotted mountains of the interior to the beaches of the east coast and the monsoon-kissed greenery of Salalah, the sultanate offers an exhilarating mix of splendid scenery and cultural discovery

Varied: From the fort-dotted mountains of the interior to the pristine beaches of the east coast, the sultanate offers an exhilarating mix of untouched beauty and adventure

Head inland to Nizwa, the old capital, which is surrounded by mountains on every side, or for a classic desert encounter with towering dunes, make your way to the magnificent Wahiba Sands.

Jebel Akhdar, Oman’s Green Mountain, encompasses the great Saiq Plateau, at 2000m above sea level, along with a labyrinth of spectacular wadis and terraces. You’ll need a 4WD to explore this area, which isn’t green like the name suggests, but enjoys cooler mountain air (temperatures during December to March can drop to -5°C) and increased rainfall (including hailstones). Look out for prize pomegranates, apricots and other fruit.

Zighy Bay: Feel like you're in Thailand, without the flight

Zighy Bay: Like you’re in Thailand, without the flight

The far north of Oman, the Musandam Peninsula, is a mountainous exclave separated from the rest of the sultanate. Within easy driving reach of the UAE, the scenic strip of land treats visitors to a combination of hideaway resorts and rugged coastline. You could opt to pamper yourself at Zighy Bay (www.sixsenses.com) or go trekking and diving from the Golden Tulip Resort in Khasab (www.goldentulipkhasab.com).

Between June and October, Oman’s southernmost province of Dhofar is lightly touched by the monsoon winds that drench India each year. Life here is more traditional, and the coastline bordering the regional capital, Salalah, was once the site of the Frankincense Trail, considered in ancient times to be southern Arabia’s most important commercial route.

Monsoon-kissed: A Frankincense forest during the summer khareef rains

Monsoon-kissed: A Frankincense forest during the summer khareef rains

The beachside Hilton Salalah Resort is set in a wonderful location, or try the Salalah Marriott Resort at Mirbat. You can travel inland to see the trees from which the ancient perfume is harvested, and make sure you don’t miss the markets, or the 3,000-year-old lost city of Ubar, at one time the frankincense export capital of the world.

You might also like: 48 hours in Hong Kong; Therapeutic tourism at the Dead Sea; and Bangkok – The Big Mango

Travel post: The Big Mango

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I was quiet last week because the stars aligned and I had the opportunity to go to work with DH, to Bangkok. We were last there 23 years ago, as teenage sweethearts, so I jumped at the chance to take a trip down memory lane. This post is the next in my series of travel columns, published in a local magazine, and adapted for the blog.

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Teeming with golden temples, palaces and colourful markets, Bangkok treats visitors to a kaleidoscope of sights, sounds and smiles. Set to become the world’s most visited city this year, beating London, Paris, Singapore and New York, the Thai capital is a huge, cosmopolitan hub, brimming with energy and a sense of fun that’s earned it the moniker Asia’s friendliest city.

While plenty of the visitors deplaning in Bangkok will be headed to Thailand’s beautiful beaches, those arriving for a Far Eastern city break won’t leave disappointed. The sprawling metropolis  might overwhelm at first, with its frenetic pace, scores of high-rises, pollution-choked air and grid-locked traffic. But look beyond the billboard-clad skyscrapers, traffic jams and neon, and you’ll find quiet, tucked-away shrines, Saffron-robed monks, authentic canals, and people so sweet natured it’s almost love at first sight.

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photo-196Bangkok is located just under 14 degrees north of the Equator and enjoys a tropical climate that favours the growth of jungly plants, orchids and delicious fruits. Bougainvillea and frangipani bloom in abundance. Thai cuisine is justifiably world-renowned (and affordable), and a distinct fragrance – a taster of the culinary treats to come – pervades the air.

The sweet smell is noticeable the moment you step out of the airport and is just the first magnificent assault on your senses, all sure to leave you with unforgettable memories of this quintessentially Asian capital. If it does all get too much, you can always retreat to the city’s climate-controlled malls – don’t we all love a megamall with air-con, after all?

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Plan a trip

WHEN: The best time to visit is during the cool season, from November to February. Temperatures soar during March, April, May and June, though by mid-June, the rains usually arrive bringing much needed relief. The rainy season sees fewer tourists, lower temperatures and the occasional flood, and can also be a good time to visit.

photo-194HOW: Much of Bangkok is easily navigable, thanks to the underground system and squeaky-clean sky train, built in an attempt to reduce the number of cars on the city’s snarled-up streets.

While the public transport system is fairly efficient, there are gaps and the city is kept moving by ingenious local solutions, such as the Khlong Saen Saeb canal boats. Taxis are among the cheapest in the world. They’re best avoided during rush hour, though, and make sure the meter is on.

SEE: Two hundred years ago, Bangkok was a small trading centre and port community on the west bank of the Chao Phraya River, and the glory of its past is evident in the city’s spectacular sights.

photo-195The impressive silhouette of the 19th-century Temple of Dawn (Wat Arun, pictured right) is one of the most recognised in Southeast Asia, and is especially stunning when lit up at night. Its towering spires rise on the western bank of the Chao Praya, but don’t miss seeing the temple close-up. The main tower is beautifully decorated with tiny pieces of coloured glass and shards of Chinese porcelain.

Thailand’s most sacred site, the dazzling Grand Palace, is vast, so expect to spend at least a full morning or afternoon admiring the curious blend of Italian Renaissance and Thai architecture. Within the palace complex are several impressive buildings including Wat Phra Kaew, containing the small and greatly revered 14th-century Emerald Buddha.

Nearby is Wat Pho, home to the world’s largest reclining Buddha image and a massage school offering highly recommended traditional massages.

SHOP: Founded in 1782, Bangkok’s colourful and chaotic Chinatown is a warren of narrow alleys and congested roads, offering myriad market stalls, gold shops and vibrant street-side cuisine. Hordes of shoppers descend on this one-kilometre strip and adjacent Charoenkrung Road. If you happen to be in Bangkok during a major festival, such as Chinese New Year, you’ll see Chinatown at its best.

Bargain hunters will also enjoy the stalls on Khao San Road (particularly good for discounted clothing and accessories), and if you’re in Bangkok over a weekend, head to the Chatuchak Weekend Market, the largest market in Southeast Asia with 8,000 stalls.

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DO: A visit to a floating market has long been a highlight on tourist itineraries, and Taling Chan, about nine miles north-west of Bangkok, is one of the most accessible. The canal banks are lined with restaurants and shops, and plied by small sampans (narrow rowing boats) piled high with tropical fruit and vegetables, fresh coconut juice and local food cooked on the floating ‘stalls’.
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You might also like: 48 hours in Hong Kong; Therapeutic tourism on the Dead Sea; Beirut and beyond

Hats off to DH

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A question I get asked a lot is: “So, does your husband always fly the same route?” I guess I can understand why people might think this – bus drivers, ferry operators, London underground drivers, long-distance truck drivers, mums on the school run, we all do the same route. So why not an airline pilot?

I smile and answer politely, “No, he flies to different places all the time.” He could be in New York one week, then Seoul the next, followed by London or Munich the week after. There’s a bidding system, which is too complicated to explain here, but that’s how it works. And it varies from month-to-month, too, with training, ground schools and six-monthly medicals as well.

Often, his trips take him to more than one country, so they’ll go to Sydney, then on to Auckland, or they’ll fly to Bangkok and from there onto Hong Kong. A bit like picking the children up from school, then continuing on to an after-school activity, I suppose. Or not.

Anyway, last week he was at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi airport, preparing to fly on to Hong Kong. Picture the scene, if you will: a busy Thai airport, with nearly 16 million arrivals a year, serving a huge, cosmopolitan capital brimming with gold-spired temples, colourful markets and sà·nùk (fun).

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The crowd pleaser

The flight crew is sitting in a corner before boarding, when a Chinese lady sits herself down right next to DH and asks if it would be okay for her friend to take a photo of them. Sure, says DH, and makes her day by letting her wear his hat for the picture.

The area they’re sitting in isn’t particularly busy, so you can imagine my DH’s surprise when he looks up and sees what’s happened.

Did you guess? Yes, out of nowhere, a line has formed. A 15-deep queue of excited passengers, many of whom are probably travelling on the A380 for the first time, all wanting a photo – with THE HAT.

My DH, who’s very good-natured, obliged. Bless him! And I did have to laugh because it’s not the first time he’s caused a line: a long time ago, when we were 16, he was waiting for me at a train station, in school uniform. I arrived to find DH standing by the exit, collecting tickets. The reason? A passenger had thought he was the inspector and handed her ticket over, causing everyone getting off the train to follow suit.

Proud of you DH, for fulfilling your flying dreams – and for the fact people will actually queue for you!

You might also like: My hat trick on the airplane

Silent Sunday: Capture the Colour

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This post is my entry to a photo blogging contest! Over at Travel Supermarket, they’re inviting bloggers to showcase their five favourite travel photos that best capture the colours red, blue, green, yellow and white. Having just spent a fun evening trawling through my still-to-be-organised, sprawling collection of images, these are my top picks:

RED: Ali Baba store in Baku, Azerbaijan

RED: Ali Baba store in Baku, Azerbaijan

BLUE:

BLUE: Beautiful boy at Jebel Ali, Dubai (peacocks also roam freely outside Zabeel Palace, home of Dubai’s ruler)

GREEN:

GREEN: Rolling mist over Snowdonia in North Wales

YELLOW:

YELLOW: Enjoying a quiet moment with my eldest son, with the Hajar Mountains (marking the UAE-Oman border) in the background

WHITE: Faraya, Lebanon (who knew there were ski resorts in the Middle East?

WHITE: First time seeing real snow for my little (not so sure) boy, at Faraya, Lebanon. Who knew there were ski resorts in the Middle East?

The rules also state that I need to nominate five fellow bloggers who might be interested in taking part. So, without much further ado, here are five blog friends whose travel photos I’d love to see if they fancy entering:

Nappy Valley…Back to Blighty
The Hedonista
Asia Vu
ExPIAtriatewife
G. Gardner Photography & Journalism

Good luck everyone!

Home sweet Dubai

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We arrived back in the sandpit on Sunday, but it’s taken me until today to resurface – because, despite there being a tiddly three hours’ time difference in summer, I always develop a flu-like case of jet lag when travelling eastwards (pathetic, I know!).

My pilot DH has to put up with me lamenting about needing to sleep, but never at the right time (at bedtime, I’m bog-eyed with a fidgety wakefulness for hours), and believe me, he shakes his head at me, absolutely dumbfounded that anyone could be so utterly *hopeless* at jet lag.

While this should only apply to mums travelling back from the US or Canada, with an 8-hour-plus time change, it's not far off.

She’s travelled back from the US. I have no excuse.

“But I think I was still on a mid-Atlantic time zone after the US,” I protest, with a yawn. “You have to fight it,” he responds, at a loss.

And so it goes on: me plodding through the day, which has a surreal, otherworldly quality when you’ve just landed in the post-apocalyptic 43° heat of the desert, and unable to sleep at night; him business as usual despite having flown to six different time zones while we were away.

Aside from the insomnia (which the kids also have. Ugh.) and the wading through hot treacle, the other thing about arriving back in Dubai after a long period away is the brain dump that takes place while travelling. Simple things, like the route to your local retail centre, making a packed lunch, or locating the cupboard in which mugs are kept, require deep thought, while grocery shopping feels like a thousand-piece 3D puzzle.

Still, even though I drifted onto the highway today in a daze rather than into the supermarket car park, and have climbed the staircase a total of eight times tonight to soothe the two riving insomniacs upstairs, it feels good to be home.

EDITED TO ADD: At 11.30pm and decamped to the children’s room with my laptop, I can now say, hand on heart, jet lag is the SCOURGE of summer travel. Sigh.

The expat mum endurance test

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The best thing about summer leave is, of course, seeing family and friends, and this year, more than any other, I’ve marvelled at how certain members of my tribe are becoming super fit. There’s my sister-in-law who went for a bike ride, and can now do 60 miles from London to Cambridge, and my cousin, who’s doing a triathlon this weekend.

But for us expat mummies, it’s not so easy over the summer, is it? Aside from being ‘on the road’ for 6 weeks or more escaping the Dubai heat, there’s the small matter of all that good food in your home country, the shelves of wine in the supermarket and the ‘holiday’ treats you deserve because you’re solo with the kids.

So, I’ve been having a little think, about some of the endurance contests that expat mums across the world are competing in this summer, so we can pat ourselves on the back too.

Ready, steady….GO:

Pole-position passport queuing: With a child desperate for a wee

Sprint to the toilets: Before the inevitable

The bath-book-bed triathlon: With wide-awake time travellers

The time zone leap: No napping

The sweat-athon (in a British heat wave): Where will you hide?

The cross-country: How many relatives / landmarks / toilets can you visit en-route?

Team-member down: When DH breaks away from the pack and streaks to the finish line a month before you

The last hurdle

The last hurdle

The stamina test: After 5 weeks of children’s activities, August shows up with a wry smile and a “So, how will you entertain ’em for ANOTHER FIVE WEEKS?”

Hitting the wall: How long until the noisy / messy / hazardous things our offspring do to fill their days get too much?

14-hour cycle: Two weeks to go and too tired to go anywhere, the 14-hour cycle of front garden, back garden, side garden kicks in

The home straight: Just THE PACKING still to do [shudders]

Crossing the finish: And time to play beat-the-body-clock again

Good luck everyone – bonus points for putting petrol in yourself.

Watching the world go by

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So, I’ve just got back from London’s Heathrow airport, seeing DH who was on a flying visit from Dubai and who I miss terribly during the summer.

I never thought of Heathrow as romantic, but places can surprise you. Plus, when you’re not staring down the barrel of 8 hours in a metal tube with small children, airports can actually be fun – not least because you can watch the travelling public, fresh off the plane from far-flung corners of the world.

Missing you, DH!

So good to see you, DH!

Today, among the crowds, there was the blonde Virgin flight attendant in pillar-box red, who’d climbed onto the highest scarlet heels I’ve ever seen and must have decided her regulation skirt didn’t offer enough leg room (fabulous legs, though, so the short skirt was forgivable).

And a little Japanese boy banging away to his heart’s content on one of the pianos dotted around the airport as part of its ‘Play me, I’m Yours’ scheme. (What were they thinking?)

Funny, though, how when it’s your kid bashing away at a piano, you hear it with your teeth, but when it’s someone else’s child it doesn’t grate so much.

My people-watching reached new heights of hilarity, however, on the airport bus back to my parents’ town. It was a National Express coach service and stopped at Terminal 5, where it was boarded by a lady who actually needed the underground, and a man who hopped on and asked: “I’ve got a car booked with National. Can you help?”

“That’ll be the car rental office you need,” replied the bus driver (who must field dumb questions every day). “Over there.”

I felt kind of sorry for him (intrepid, he wasn’t) and heaven help him when he’s flung into orbit on the M25 motorway.

You might also like: The Six People You Meet in Travel Hell

Our world … and their world

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“LOOK out the window!”

I don’t know how many times we’ve said this to our children in the car, and in how many different countries, but however amazing the view, it falls on deaf ears.

Kids! You're missing so much by not looking out the window... it's boring.com to them

Boring.com to my children. But, kids, you’re missing so much by not looking out the window!

I’ve long since learnt that if someone pipes up, “Sheep!”, they’re not looking at a flock of fluffy animals grazing on grassy meadows outside the window. There’ll be a pixelated sheep swimming across the small screen in whatever world they happen to be inhabiting on Minecraft.

And, another thing, the vast swathes of life that took place in our BC (before children) world? No interest to them. Whatsoever.

In Florida, we drove by the apartment we used to rent when DH and I were newlyweds. “Look, boys, that’s where mummy and daddy lived before you were born!” I said, pointing excitedly at the grey-timber building, nestled in lush landscaping.

There was a flicker of interest, a brief glance out the window, with one eye still on the square-headed sheep.

Then Son1 says, nonchalantly: “C’mon, let’s go! You don’t live there anymore!”

And returns to his electronic stimulation.

If my eyebrows had risen any further, they would have shot past the atmosphere.

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Fessing up to being a space nerd

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Can you remember what you wanted to be when you “grew up”?

Until I was about 15 and had to start filling in careers advisory forms, I dreamt about being an astronaut [laughs head off now].

It might have been because my mum sat me in front of the 1972 moon landing when I was a baby, but whatever the reason, being something of a space nerd definitely played a big role in knowing my husband was the one.

Excuse me while I digress and remember the moment: On a date (in a light aircraft), he flew us at a low altitude down the 4.5km-long runway at Nasa’s Cape Canaveral. ‘Wow, this is what you see when you return from a mission,” I thought to myself, amazed.

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With 33 space flights under its belt, and still covered in space dust, the Atlantis will spend its retirement ‘wowing’ visitors to the Kennedy Space Centre.

(It was the closest I’d ever get to being an astronaut, because, the truth is, I wouldn’t last five minutes in space with all that bird-legged bouncing around, zero-gravity puffiness and endless freeze-dried food.) And, obviously, if we attempted to fly low over the space shuttle landing facility now, we’d be shot down. Pronto.

But my fascination with space is still there and bubbled over on a visit to the Kennedy Space Centre on holiday. My most memorable moment of the entire trip took place when the doors to the new $100m Space Shuttle Atlantis exhibit opened.

“Is it real?” I gasped, eyes wide as I walked slowly up to the black-and-white space shuttle. Presented as though it’s in mid-flight, the Atlantis still bears all its scuffs, scorch marks and space dust from her last mission. “Yes, it’s real,” confirmed DH (who used to see the shuttle zoom past while buzzing around Florida airspace years ago).

In awe, and so close I could almost touch it, it was as much as I could do to not start clapping.

Operation Longvac

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This is a stolen term, from a writer in the Times newspaper, but I’m borrowing it because she was talking about a six-week British school holiday. Anyone reading this in the US or expat-land will be thinking, ‘Six weeks? PAH! That’ll be over in the blink-of-an-eye!’

Try 27 June – 2 September for size, presently yawning in front of us like a gaping hole – a mind-bending vortex that needs to be filled with activities, every.single.day, to prevent my children’s boredom from toppling us.

Happy (long) holiday, kids!

Happy (long) holiday, kids!

And because Dubai is as hot as Hades at this time of year, many of these activities need to be planned in another country, maybe even two or three different countries, if you’re going to get anywhere near the romantic notion of happy, rosy-cheeked kiddies hanging off the farm gate.

So, right now, we find ourselves in the UK – then tomorrow, we head off again, for our annual trip to the US. This year, to Florida, where we lived as newlyweds.

Something tells me we’re destined to meet Mickey Mouse and his motley crew, and obv. this means peaking far too early in the holiday, because when we return to the UK, and DH disappears off over the horizon to the blue yonder of Dubai, there’s still another six weeks to go. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Grandparents rock!

There’s also the small matter of keeping my newly founded Writing Inc. going – it has to take a back burner, of course, but still demands attention, at times like a hungry child. So, I’ve packed my career in my suitcase and, this week, worked remotely from my parents’ dining room.

With this as the view (mum’s garden, a 20-year project that was a field when we moved here), and sausage rolls in the fridge, it’s been such a lovely change. Best of all, the ankle-biting whippersnappers can be thrown outdoors for lengthy and wholesome, energy-burning games of hide-and-seek.

And by the time we get back from the States, the British schools will nearly have broken up - so we'll find playmates at last!

Office with a view: And by the time we get back from the States, the British schools will nearly have broken up – playmates wanted.