We were on our way! We were heading for a camp in the Wahaiba Sands. That’s the name of the sandy desert in the heart of the Sultanate of Oman. We had driven down from the capital city – Muscat to our rendezvous at a town called Sur. Now as Ahmed accelerated, the town became as spec of dirt in the horizon. Ahead we could see the outline of dunes and we girls kept up an excited chatter. The men it seems were too busy gazing into Jamila’s eyes – there seemed to be no reaction from them!
Suddenly Ahmed turned into a kacha road and there we were. Stretching ahead of us was miles and miles of sand. We sat there amazed as Ahmed took the plunge and steered the vehicle expertly on the silky smooth water-like sand. Inspired by our admiration Ahmed increased speed and even put on a raunchy Arabic number on his rickety music system. Our entreaties to shut off the music (noise??) were swallowed by the avid Arab singer. We gave up after a while and concentrated on the scenery. It was indeed amazing. Kind of like being in deep sea – when you see nothing but water and the myriad shades of it. Here we could see sand all the way to the horizon. I had never seen so many lovely shades of brown in my life! We drove deeper and deeper into the desert and soon lost all sense of direction and time. Finally our camp came into view. There were about 10 tents arranged in a large circle. In the centre was a bonfire ready to be lit up. We could see makeshift toilets a little distance away from the tents.
“This looks cosy!” I yelled to my companion above the music. She nodded, looking equally thrilled. As soon as Ahmed stopped the vehicle we jumped out to inspect the camp.
“Wasn’t that super?” I asked the guys
“Excuse me…but next time you ride with Miss Universe here. I was so tense. All through the journey she kept trying to sniff my backside. I had to keep wriggling out of the way. It was a good thing she was on a tight leash and could not get up or move.” My irate husband burst out.
But good humour was soon restored as we were escorted to the reception area (also a tent) and served khajur (dates) and kahwa (aromatic Arabic black coffee). This is the traditional Arab way of welcoming their guests - we did indeed feel welcome and revived.
We dumped our bags in our cosy tent – lined with colourful sheep wool blankets to keep out the cold.
At the reception area we had seen some sand skis and we ran off to grab them. It was a challenge to climb the dune – the harder we stepped the lower we came. After struggling for over 15 minutes we were right where we started! At last we got the knack of climbing and huffed-puffed our way on top of the dune. For almost an hour we frolicked in the sand, gliding down, climbing up, gliding down, climbing up. Finally, exhausted we gave up.
It was starting to get dark. Our next agenda was to sit atop the tallest dune and watch the sunset. The mission was soon accomplished and we sat breathless drinking in the breathtaking scenery. The sun was an orange ball and the sand took on the hues of the setting sun. The whole place was glowing gold. A serene silence set in and we all watched spell bound as the sun made a spectacular exit.
As the sun went down the sand started getting cooler and cooler. It became suddenly dark and cold.
“Time to head back guys.” I declared shivering. In our enthusiasm to come up we had not carried any woollies with us.
Everyone got up slowly reluctant to let go of the magical moment. By the time we got down, it was totally dark.
“Hey, which direction is the camp?” asked Sonia.
“I don’t see any lights.” I declared looking around.
The guys were scanning the area too.
“Lets head back the way we came.” said Babu wisely
“Yes but which way did we come? I’m totally disoriented?” my husband said scratching his head
“Oh no…don’t tell me we’re lost!” I cried
“We’re lost.” They all said in unison
We debated and finally agreed on one direction. We set off in what wepresumed was the direction of the camp. The sudden drop in temperaturewas amazing. Our teeth were chattering as we struggled through the coldsand, which seemed intent on swallowing our feet.
“I don’t know ifthis is the right direction guys. You should have listened to me andwalked the other way…why are you grunting like a camel?” I askedirritated as I heard a loud grunting sound.
“You can tell me to stop talking you know…no need to make these animal sounds!” I continued
“Run for your lives! It’s Miss Universe! She’s coming for us!” Screamed my husband suddenly as he whizzed past us.
(Click here to go to part 3)
