"Hasn't it ever occurred to you to just go for a simple walk?" I asked - "you know, without always being perched on the edge of some gut-wrenching crevice."
"Well, I used to do that sometimes with my girlfriend," admitted Justin. "She wasn't much of a climber...but to tell you the truth I always found it a bit boring."
Justin Halls left a job as one of London's most daring tree-surgeons to lead trekking and climbing tours and he clearly seems to be finding more than enough excitement and thrills to keep him interested in Oman.
At its most mundane, walking in Oman's Hajar Mountains might only be unforgettably dramatic: at its best it is nothing less that a once-in-a-lifetime adventure.
We were following a narrow trail - known as 'the balcony walk' - along the edge of Wadi Nakhr. The going was not difficult but just five feet from our right boots there was a dizzying drop of a vertical kilometre into what is known as Oman's 'Grand Canyon.' Out ahead, our little pioneer column of trekkers seemed incredibly insignificant in the scale of this majestic landscape.
The geologist Sue Hutton described this area as 'a huge anticline flanked by hard limestones and ophiolites, enthrusted mantle rocks, revealing angular unconformity between tilted Palaeozoic rocks and overlying Permian limestones.' Looking around, I took this to mean that it is really, really craggy.
The peaks rose up in great rearing slabs, cracked and crumpled by the tectonic forces at the spot where Africa and Asia quite literally collide. Wadi Nakhr does indeed bear a startling resemblance to the other Grand Canyon...if you ignore the absence of car-parks, T-shirt stalls and unsightly security fences. Far below us, a few shrinking waterholes glinted in the sunlight, marking the course of what is grandly considered to be a river in this part of the Gulf.
Water is an overwhelming priority for any trek in Oman. Even in mid-winter the tropical sun has the power to quickly dehydrate anyone foolhardy enough to be out for long periods. But in the summer it can be a problem to carry sufficient water even for a half-day trek. Apart from a few scraggy juniper bushes, shade was almost nonexistent and above us a couple of Egyptian vultures seemed to be watching us optimistically as they wheeled on the thermals. We kept our hats pulled low and took frequent sips of water from the tubes that led to our Camelbak water-carriers. In the dry 45-degree desert heat our sweat was evaporating even before it could form into beads on our skin.
We had risen before dawn to take advantage of the cooler hours. I rolled out of my sleeping-bag, checked my boots for scorpions and boosted the campfire. The desert night had been surprisingly chilly and the cloudless sky still revealed the faint ribbon of the Milky Way. By the time the sun rose to throw a peach-coloured wash over the distant peak of Jabal Shams – the aptly named 'Mountain of the Sun' – the coffee pot was empty and we were already breaking camp.
It was important to get much of our day's trek behind us so that we could make it to the head of Wadi Nakhr before the pounding heat of early afternoon. Once or twice I saw the tracks of goats and marvelled that anyone should find it worthwhile to drive their flocks along this precipitous and apparently barren mountainside.
Think of the word 'oasis' and you tend to imagine a cartoon vision of a little blue pond and a couple of picturesquely bowing palm trees. In Oman oases come in all sizes: there are the great palm-groves like that at Al-Hamra, which covers a whole plain and there are narrow, shady canyons like that down on the coast at Wadi Shab, which stretches for miles inland along a river which actually flows. Then there are tiny green enclaves, which have been hacked out of the desert by sheer sweat and labour. Decades, or even generations, of hard work might have gone into preserving every precious trickle of water that passes through cleverly laid-out system of tanks, channels and terraces.
On a rocky ledge in the northern wall of 'the Grand Canyon' we came across a uniquely impressive little manmade oasis. The story behind the hidden village of Sap Bani Khamis is - like so much in mysterious Oman - unknown. The little collection of stone huts that were built into a shallow cave in the canyon wall would once have been home to about fifteen families. Sap Bani Khamis was abandoned thirty years ago, at about the time when the forward-thinking Sultan Qaboos came to power and began to promote the progress that would make life easier for the mountain people.
Why these families had decided to farm such a difficult location in the first place is very likely to remain a mystery (there were few historians in the old Oman) but it is clear at a glance that this position would be wonderfully defendable even for a tiny clan. In front of the village, the canyon wall drops five hundred metres down to the wadi and, above the cave, a sheer cliff rises for another two hundred. The only access to the village is along the narrow path that brought us. If, as seems very possible, these people were renegades who took part in the rebellion against the previous sultan then they found as good a refuge as could ever be hoped for.
What is also clear, even three decades after the last old farmer moved up to the nearby village of Al Khateem, is that they built what must have been a relatively idyllic little paradise here. At least for people who were forced to live 'life on the edge.'
The old cistern still collects rain-water from the ridge above and the ingenious falaj irrigation system would still be capable of channelling water to terraces on which wild olive and pomegranate trees still bear a rich harvest. Behind one hut we found an old millstone that was once used to grind wheat for bread. It seems that in their unique little oasis these hard-working people also managed to grow lemons, chilli-peppers, onions, tomatoes and even water melons. The palm trees have died but the big stone tanks that once stored dates are still standing and beneath them is a sort of well where the date juice that trickled out has long ago turned to dusty black toffee.
The few visitors who come to Sap Bani Khamis usually walk in and out along the balcony walk but these days there is one other access to the village. Our second option was to scale the cliff above (using safety harnesses) up two hundred metres of wire that had been bolted into the cliff. Footholds are plentiful but the ascent takes about an hour and I had been warned that it can be tough in the midday heat.
"So, what would you prefer?" asked Justin. "Shall we go up the interesting way or just walk back out?"
It was a rhetorical question. I knew I could never look him in the eye if I even considered taking the easy way out.
OMAN'S BEST TREKKING AREAS:
'Grand Canyon balcony-walk' (5 hours): Starting and finishing in the village of Al Khateem this is a relatively easy walk with very little change in altitude. A good head for heights is needed though since this 'balcony' is little more than a rocky ledge almost a vertical kilometre over the Wadi Nakhr gorge. For the more adventurous there is a 200m via ferrata climb (not technical but requiring reasonable fitness) from the village to the cliff edge. It is a fairly long, hot walk from there back to Al Khateem though so this is best done if you can arrange for a vehicle to meet you at the top.
Wadi Mistal walk (4-5 hours): One of the most popular walks in the Western Hajars is from Al Manakhir to Hadash. You take in the gently undulating (and surprisingly verdant) landscape of Sayq Plateau and walk to the rim of the great natural amphitheatre that is known as Ghubbrah Bowl, from where you have a fantastic view over Wadi Mistal and down to the oases of Wakan and Hadash. This easy walk is particularly enchanting in spring when the fruit orchards are in blossom.
Wadi Bani Kharus walk (2 days): This walk leads up to the Sayq Plateau, with a height gain of about 1300m. It can be a strenuous hike but the views more than compensate for the effort. Do the walk in the opposite direction and the pools at Al Ulyah (coming towards the end of the trek) offer an irresistible temptation for a dip. The walk can be completed in a long day (5-7hrs) but there are some great camping spots on the way and the middle section is rarely visited so it makes for a splendid sense of isolation.
Al Misfah circuit (1 day): Al Misfah is one of the most picturesque villages in Oman, with narrow alleyways and houses merging into rocky buttresses. The lime groves of the village provide a cool, shady place to rest. The route starts and finishes in the Al Misfah plantations and makes for a long day's trek, taking 8-9 hrs with light packs.
Wadi Bani Khalid walk (2 days): This is a classic crossing of the Eastern Hajar Mountains from the oasis of Wadi Bani Khalid to the coastal village of Tiwi, along an ancient donkey trail. Highlights include breathtaking views from a height of over 2000m into the green wadis and dramatic canyons...and wild donkey herds. This 18-mile walk could be done in 12-14 hours with a light pack, but will take more if you’re carrying camping equipment. While it’s not difficult, it is a long, rocky mountain trek with a few steep sections.
Wadi Shab walk (3 hours): Starting at the fishing village of Tiwi this is a gentle stroll up a beautiful wadi, with flowing water, whispering palms and lots of bird-life. At the end of the wadi you can climb the waterfall and swim...or alternatively you can make your way back out and retire to the beautiful and secluded White Beach that is just a few kilometre farther up the coast.
CONTACT: Muscat Diving and Adventure Centre (www.holiday-in-oman.com / tel: +968 24485663) operate tours throughout almost any part of the country and can arrange logistics for independent trekking, caving, climbing groups.
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