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Oman will always hold a special place in my heart. I found it a country of immense beauty, and most importantly, of mind-blowing kindness and generosity. We split our time in two phases. We first cycled for almost 4 weeks down the eastern coast and through the desert, and then rented a 4-wheel drive for 1 week, to travel to the places we could not reach by bicycle given our circumstances (a.k.a. our kind of bicycles, the weight we carried, and the overwhelming steep mountains). Both phases were incredibly beautiful, but our time on the bicycle was where I felt that we really got to know Oman. But first–our arrival in Muscat, where we got ready to start cycling. This included finding a bike shop to keep 4 empty bicycle boxes while we traveled so that we did not have to find and adapt boxes for our bikes on our flight out. And it included getting a first taste of life in a big city in Oman–the people, the food, the ways of communicating, the sand in the air, the heat. It all felt very different, which is exactly what we were looking for. Now onto the cycling! To avoid busy highways, we took a bus from Muscat to Sur. Just getting on the bus was an adventure on its own, with other passengers helping us load our (so many) things on and with the bus driver making his way to greet us once onboard. We looked out of the windows as we moved along and started getting glimpses of landscapes that we were yet to explore. Town after town, we saw people sharing coffee, laughing. And excitement starting to build.... Here are a few photos of our time on the bicycle in Oman: And here we go: And check out the camels: It is on the bicycle where one is most vulnerable, where one can sense the changing landscapes by the minute, and where one is face-to-face with people, at all times. Bicycles invite conversations and Oman was yet another proof of this. While on our bikes, we met people every day. Drivers would usually honk as a sign of support; at each stop for water, supplies, or rest, we were greeted and asked about our travels (where are you going? “Mashala!” All on the bikes?, etc.); we were stopped multiple times on the road and given water or chocolates, even if we couldn't possibly carry any more; and we were once stopped by 3 men who got out of their car and shared Omani coffee and dates with us in the middle of the desert-a beautiful and very well received gesture of kindness. On the road is also where we met Mohammed and his family. They literally stopped their car to talk with us, to check if we needed anything, and to invite us over to their beach house. We initially said no, thank you, as it was about 3:30 p.m., and at that time of the day we knew we would soon have to look for a place to camp. But something about their invitation clicked and we accepted. So there we were, following a family who we did not know to their house somewhere along the route, in a country that was quite new to us. And I am so glad we did, as it turned out to be one of the loveliest experiences in our time in Oman. They showed us their house and we had coffee and dates together. We were invited to dinner, to stay overnight, to have a shower, and to have breakfast. We cooked, ate, had Karak tea, talked, smiled, the children played, and Horacio and the kids played music at night. I was so happy to meet them and incredibly grateful to the kindness, warmth, and openness with which we were received. I felt like I was with family and saying good-bye the next day was now saying good-bye to our good friends. Thank you, Mohammed, Khadija, and family, for these very special moments with you! After breakfast, Mohammed and his family saw us off, with a package of dates from Khadija's family farm (the most delicious ones we ate in our time in Oman), all the water bottles we could possibly fit, and a bunch of snacks for the road. We cycled south, inching our way towards the desert and evermore remote areas. Provisions There were times when we had to plan for 2 days of not being able to get provisions, which can be pretty tough in the desert. So we stocked up every time we could. Our food supplies in Oman included dates, nuts, canned tuna, canned hummus, olive oil, bread, ramen, canned fruit, and at least four 1.5 liter bottles each. We also carried hydration tablets that we brought from Portugal, which were very helpful when tired and in extreme heat. We stopped for Karak tea when possible–in gas stations or settlements–and we occasionally encountered restaurants where we could grab something to eat (like rice and chicken or Indian food). Running out of water As carefully as we had organized, we could not avoid running out of water once. We had planned to find a shop that was marked on a map, though it turned out not to be a shop but an abandoned mosque. The next town was several kms further, and it was hot. We continued forward, taking only small sips of water at a time, not knowing how soon we might actually find water. The next settlement had no shop, but alas, it had a mosque and we had read that in an emergency, mosques would be a good place to stop. We were greeted by a group of about 12 young children–smiling, talking, walking or running alongside us on our way to the mosque. I got off my bike to walk with them, and soon enough, one of them was inquiring about taking a ride on it. I would have been happy to, but they seemed quite young and a fully loaded bike can be challenging to control at first. Next thing I know, a car got off the road and signaled to the kids to leave me alone. I explained to him that the kids were not bothering me (in fact I loved being greeted by them). He seemed happy to hear this and immediately asked if he could take a ride on my bike (LOL), which he did and seemed to have a blast. We were all laughing. In the mosque, we were generously provided with plenty of drinking water, for which we were very thankful! Kindness One after the other. Every single day. Smiles. Offers to help. Mohammed's family opening their house to us. People in cars on the road stopping to give us water, dates, or chocolates. In a hotel in Masirah, a family bringing us a platter of home cooked seafood and rice, so we could try traditional food. In Masirah beach Camp, Zaal helping us set up camp and parking a truck next to the tents so as to protect us from the strong winds. Water in the mosque. And it goes on and on. Our days Every day we woke up with the sun. We had breakfast (coffee or Karak, hummus, fruit, tuna, or whatever we had handy), cleaned up, and picked up camp. This would normally take about 3 hours, and during this time, Horacio got caught up with work. We then had to load the bicycles and get them from our campsite to the road, which could take quite a while, especially when our site was deeper in the sand or farther away. By the time we were ready to start cycling, it was usually about 12 pm., right when the sun was at its peak! By then we were already hot, sweaty, and tired, and sometimes even a bit cranky (me at least). But as soon as we started cycling, it was FREEDOM. Right then and there, the heat and the sweat would stop bothering me and in a second I would forget about the hours spent packing up or pushing my bike through the sand. I would feel the wind on my face or helping me on my back; I would maybe catch a glimpse of a camel running free in the distance; I would soak in the color of the sky and the changing landscape; and I would feel my feet sinking into the pedals and propelling me forward. Negative thoughts or feelings have no place while pedaling. It is a time to be fully immersed in what is happening, in absorbing the surroundings, in making sure one is safe, in spotting the possibility of provisions and eventually, of finding a safe place to sleep. Freedom to live, as is. That is one of the things that I love most about traveling by bicycle.
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