Assalamualaikum and may peace be upon you.
"Lift‑offs and touch‑downs: they are not just logistics, but the punctuation marks of travel, the moments where movement becomes memory.”
I feel deeply fortunate and blessed to have set foot in yet another Arab country - adding Oman to my earlier travels through Kuwait, Qatar, the UAE, and Saudi Arabia. This journey unfolded as a tapestry of landscapes, heritage, and quiet moments, each day offering its own rhythm and revelation.
Day 01 – Muscat
The trip began gently, with a night walk around my hotel in Muscat. The city’s calm evening air set the tone for the days ahead, a soft prelude to Oman’s layered beauty.
Day 02 – Nizwa & Al Hamra
Exploring Nizwa Souq immersed me in the pulse of Omani trade and tradition, Nizwa Fort a sentinel of history, its towers offering sweeping views of the old town, while Al Aqur revealed the serenity of village life. In Misfat al Abriyeen, the terraced gardens and mud-brick houses whispered stories of endurance and heritage, a living museum of Omani resilience.
Day 03 – Dibab & Tiwi
Nature took center stage: the turquoise depths of the Bimmah Sinkhole, the soft expanse of White Sands Beach, and the adventurous trek through Wadi Shab. In Tiwi, the spiritual presence of Al Farouk Mosque and the lush valleys of Wadi Tiwi offered balance between devotion and natural wonder.
Day 04 – Muscat & Mutrah
The final day was a mosaic of Muscat’s cultural and architectural gems. A morning walk gave way to the city tour and Qurum Beach, followed by the elegance of the Royal Opera House Muscat and its galleria. The grandeur of the Sultan Qaboos Mosque and the heritage-rich Bait Al Zubair Museum deepened my appreciation of Omani identity. In Mutrah, I wandered through the regal Al Alam Palace, the quiet Palace Beach, the lively Corniche, and the bustling Mutrah Souq. The day closed with the sweeping sands of Bousher Valley Point and the playful sight of parrots in free flight - a fitting symbol of freedom and joy.
A Journey Concluded, A Memory Enduring
Oman revealed itself as a land where heritage and nature intertwine seamlessly: souqs alive with tradition, wadis flowing with vitality, and mosques standing as testaments of faith. Each stop was not just a destination, but a reminder of continuity - of how travel connects past journeys with present discoveries.
As I close this chapter, I carry with me not only memories of places visited but also the enduring warmth of Omani hospitality. This trip was more than sightseeing; it was a reminder of continuity; of how each Arab land I’ve been blessed to visit adds another thread to the fabric of understanding and connection.
Our journey home....
We returned to the Ramada Encore by Wyndham Muscat Hotel to pick up the luggage stored there. Around 6:30 PM, the bus arranged by Maher arrived to take us to Muscat International Airport.
Muscat International Airport.
Tribute to Maher, Tour Guide in Oman
Maher carried the spirit of Oman in the way he guided us - gently, attentively, and with a storyteller’s gift. He did not simply lead us through souqs and mountains; he opened windows into the country’s living heritage, where history and hospitality intertwined. His knowledge gave depth to every place we visited, transforming stone walls, desert horizons, and bustling markets into chapters of a larger story.
What made the journey unforgettable was not only his wisdom, but his kindness. He noticed the small things - our wonder, our silences, our need for rest - and responded with care. One of the most cherished moments was when he treated us to steaming cups of Karak tea, its sweetness and spice a reflection of the generosity he embodied. That simple gesture, shared under the Omani sky, felt like an invitation into the rhythm of local life.
Maher’s presence reminded us that travel is not only about landscapes, but about the people who open them to us. His warmth and attentiveness turned our journey into something lasting; a memory stitched with flavor, fragrance, and friendship. Through him, Oman revealed itself not just as a destination, but as a living poem of resilience, hospitality, and beauty.
Drop-off area, Muscat International Airport.
Our homeward path to Kuala Lumpur unfolds on Qatar Airways, with Doha as our midnight interlude. The Muscat flight is set to lift off at 11:15 PM, a departure wrapped in quiet anticipation. We chose to arrive to the airport early, not out of haste but to linger - sharing dinner beneath the glow of airport lights, letting the taste of the meal mark the gentle threshold between journey’s end and journey’s continuation.
Doha is not just a transit stop but a bridge: a place where departure and return meet, where the threads of one-story knot themselves into the beginning of another.
Muscat International Airport hums with its own rhythm - arches of steel and light, palm trees standing sentinel over the ebb and flow of travelers. For me, airports have always been more than transit points; they are the stages where journeys begin, pause, and conclude.
Departure carries its familiar thrill, a pulse of anticipation as the engines prepare to lift us skyward. Arrival, by contrast, feels like a warm embrace, a welcome that dissolves fatigue into belonging. And the transits - those pauses between worlds - become necessary breaths, a chance to rest, reflect, and reset.
Perhaps that is why my writing always lingers on lift‑offs and touch‑downs: they are not just logistics, but the punctuation marks of travel, the moments where movement becomes memory.
❤️ I’ve passed countless ‘I love…’ signs in airports and cities, usually dismissing them as mere backdrops for selfies, clever strokes of tourism marketing. But here in Oman, standing before its glowing declaration, I felt the truth of it. I do love Oman. This land promised much, and it delivered each promise with grace. The key was Maher - our guide, our storyteller - who gathered the country’s treasures into bundles of delights, reflections, and anecdotes. Through him, Oman was not just seen, but felt: a tapestry of heritage and hospitality, woven into memory.
At Muscat International Airport, amid the quiet of a terminal with only a few restaurants open, we found ourselves discussing where to eat. Then came a small but memorable kindness: a man from Myanmar, who had once worked in Singapore, overheard us speaking Malay. With gentle confidence, he recommended Plenty Café near the check‑in counters. His Malay was careful, a little stiff, yet fluent enough to bridge the gap. We were touched by the effort.
What might have been a small gesture became a memorable moment: a stranger bridging languages and cultures, reminding us that travel is often carried by such unexpected threads of kindness and that travel is stitched together not only by places, but by people. Airports, after all, are crossroads of humanity, where even fleeting encounters can leave lasting warmth.
“Our dinner was simple - Chicken Curry with Paratha and a cup of Karak Tea. I snapped a photo of the tea and sent it to Maher on WhatsApp with the message, ‘I’m having a cup of hot Karak Tea 😊.’ His reply came quickly, just as cheerful: ‘Come to Oman again and I will treat you with it anytime of the day 😊.’ It felt like the perfect farewell to a good friend. Over that aromatic, spiced tea, Maher and I had found a bond that stretched beyond borders. Who would have thought a humble beverage could weave friendship between two men from worlds apart, transcending continents and oceans?
At PLENTY Café in Muscat International Airport, our dinner of Chicken Curry with Paratha and steaming Karak Tea became more than a meal - it was a mirror reflecting the flavors that had carried us across Oman. Each dish we recalled was alive with texture and story. The smoky skewers of chicken and beef Mishkak at Mohsin Burger, torn and wrapped in warm Omani bread, spoke of street corners and laughter. In Nizwa, grilled chicken with basmati rice and a fragrant seafood soup carried the spice of tradition, a comfort against the mountain air. Tiwi offered Hydrabadi Fish Rice, grains perfumed with the sea, a dish that tasted of tides and journeys. Back in Muscat, Ayam Penyet and Bakso at the Indonesian Restaurant brought a familiar Southeast Asian embrace, a reminder of home within travel.
And then, the crowning feast at Bin Ateeq: Laham Shoowa Omani and Shoowa Dijaj, slow‑cooked to tenderness, paired with three rice traditions - Biriyani, Kabsa, and Mandi. It was more than delicious; it was heritage on a plate, Oman’s national dish carrying centuries of celebration and continuity.
Taste, for me, completes travel. Beyond sight, sound, and scent, it is flavor that anchors memory. In Oman, the joy of discovering heritage and culture intertwined seamlessly with the joy of savoring its cuisine. Together, they made the journey whole - each bite a story, each meal a memory, each flavor a thread in the fabric of travel.
Around 8 PM, we made our way to the Qatar Airways counter to check in. There, I struck up a conversation with a fellow Malaysian who was returning to his hometown in Johor after working for a company in Oman. The brief exchange filled me with a sense of home, even though I was still thousands of miles away. Airports are full of such fleeting recognitions, reminders that belonging can surface anywhere.
Encounters like this remind me of the quiet strength of those who choose to live apart from their families in pursuit of livelihood. I have always held deep respect for such resilience, for the courage it takes to live apart from family to carry both distance and duty.
In that brief exchange, distance folded in on itself, and home was suddenly near.
Heading to the Boarding Gate A8.
At 10:00 PM, passengers of Qatar Airways flight QR 1125 bound for Doha were called to board.
Unlike my earlier hop from Doha to Muscat on a narrow-body jet, tonight’s journey would be aboard a wide-body Boeing 777‑300ER, its spacious cabin promising a more comfortable ride.
Right on schedule at 11:15 PM, QR 1125 lifted off from Muscat, beginning the short 1 hour 10-minute flight to Doha.
A light snack was served as we crossed into UAE airspace - just enough to tide us over on this brief sector. Soon after, the cabin lights dimmed, wrapping the night flight in a hushed calm.
We touched down at Hamad International Airport at midnight, Doha time - an hour ahead of Muscat.
Our aircraft parked on the apron, and buses ferried us directly to the terminal.
To our relief, transit passengers like us were spared additional security checks. It was a welcome contrast to my past transit in Dubai, where a long trek through the terminal ended only with another round of screening.
Our onward flight to Kuala Lumpur, QR 852, was scheduled for 2:30 AM from Gate C10, leaving us a modest 2½‑hour layover. With little to do at that hour, we simply waited at the gate.
Boarding began early, at 1:40 AM. I noticed that few Malaysians were on this flight - perhaps many had opted for the Malaysia Airlines codeshare that departed an hour earlier.
As scheduled, QR 852 departed at 2:30 AM. I fell into such deep sleep that I missed the takeoff entirely, only waking when the first meal service began as we flew past the UAE.
The seven‑hour journey to Kuala Lumpur was made easier by the comfort of the 777‑300ER, which felt almost brand new. Its seats invited rest, and I drifted in and out of sleep until dawn.
A second meal was served as we crossed the Bay of Bengal, with choices like chicken gravy with Japanese rice or cream cheese chive fritters.
By the time trays were cleared, the descent had begun. At 2:45 PM, we landed smoothly at Kuala Lumpur International Airport, right on schedule - home at last.
The wheels touched down at Kuala Lumpur International Airport at 2:45 PM, and with that gentle thud came the quiet certainty of return. After nights of airports, dimmed cabins, and fleeting meals above the clouds, the familiar humidity of home pressed softly against the windows.
As I stepped into the terminal, I felt the journey fold into memory: Muscat’s souqs, Oman’s gardens, Maher’s guiding presence, Doha’s midnight layover - all threads now woven into a single tapestry. Travel had carried me outward, but it also carried me back, reminding me that departure and return are two halves of the same circle.
The Knot of Homecoming
As our journey ended, Muscat becomes memory, Doha a bridge, and Kuala Lumpur the embrace awaiting us. Airports, flights, transits - they are not just logistics, but the punctuation marks of travel, the moments where movement becomes memory.
In Muscat, we shared dinner beneath airport lights, a quiet farewell to Oman’s warmth. In Doha, we paused between worlds, a threshold where departure and return meet. And in Kuala Lumpur, the touch‑down will feel like continuity, the familiar woven back into the new.
Yet what endures most are not only the places, but the people - Maher, whose kindness and guidance stitched Oman’s heritage into our hearts. His presence reminds me that journeys are carried not only by planes, but by human bridges, gestures of hospitality that linger long after the lift‑off. Homecoming, then, is not an ending but a knot in the thread of travel, binding memory to movement, gratitude to return.
Home is not only a place on the map; it is the moment when the journey exhales, when the stories gathered abroad find their resting place. And so, with gratitude and quiet relief, I walked forward - homeward, at last.
Alhamdulillah.
To be continued.
Till the next coming entry, inshaAllah. Meanwhile do take care.
No photograph or videos may be reproduced, downloaded, copied, stored, manipulated, or used whole or in part of a derivative work, without written permission from Syed Amran. All rights reserved.
No comments:
Post a Comment