Oman

You might find it hard to believe, but once you leave the city, there seems to be a herd of these long-legged creatures every five kilometres. There’s nothing wrong with camels themselves, except that they are terrified of the sound of motorcycles and tend to run unpredictably in every direction when you pass them. We are advised to ride past them with the bike in neutral so they don’t notice us coming. The second thing to watch out for is the abundance of speed bumps in the villages. Many have become so weathered that they are almost camouflaged, making them particularly good at catching you by surprise.

Apart from these minor hazards, Oman ticks almost every box on a motorcyclist’s wish list. The paved roads are superb and Omani drivers are remarkably disciplined, putting to rest the cliché about traffic behaviour in southern countries. Our ten-day itinerary combines luxurious accommodation with nights spent under the stars. Quite a contrast, and instinctively I was already leaning towards the camping. Unfortunately, I’m the kind of person who needs to experience things before believing them. Everyone knows that desert nights can get seriously cold despite pleasant daytime temperatures of around 25°C. Yet I thought it would be a brilliant idea to bring along a lightweight summer sleeping bag from my long-forgotten festival days.

Brett provides all the camping equipment, but for hygiene reasons participants have to bring their own sleeping gear. On our first night, a strong wind picks up and the temperature drops to levels my amateur equipment simply wasn’t designed for. Rarely have I been so happy to see our natural source of heat appear on the horizon. The next day, I stop at the first shop I can find and buy myself a warm blanket.

Where we spent the first night in a desolate rocky desert at altitude, the following evening we pitch our tents in the mighty Rub’ al Khali. Also known as the Empty Quarter, this vast desert stretches across parts of Saudi Arabia, Oman, Yemen and the United Arab Emirates. It is the largest continuous sand desert in the world, with dunes reaching almost 300 metres in height. Despite the dry climate, the open plains are dotted with shrubs, adding little patches of green to the otherwise beige landscape. A cyclone passed through the area the previous year, bringing enough water to temporarily sprinkle parts of the desert with life. That evening, Brett once again produces his barbecue from the back of the truck and treats us to a fantastic meal.

A proven performer

The challenging washboard surface waiting for us early the next morning is enough to wake everyone up. Unfortunately, the terrain also takes its toll on the machinery. The Land Cruiser and one of the Africa Twins need new tyres, but the two brand-new BMW F850 GSs are in even worse shape. Both BMWs have had a brief encounter with the soft sand, resulting in punctured radiators. There is nothing we can do but keep topping them up with water.

I end up on the oldest motorcycle in the group, the KTM 990 Adventure, but I’m far from disappointed. Despite its age, it is obvious that this old beast has nothing to fear from its younger rivals. In fact, after three days of mainly off-road riding, I start to suspect that I may have drawn the winning ticket. The mechanical problems cost us valuable time. We have 600 kilometres to cover today and are determined to visit at least one frankincense site, where Boswellia trees are cultivated. That may not mean much to you, but these trees produce a unique resin which forms the basis of incense and perfumes.

Throughout Oman's history, frankincense has been a product of enormous value. During strongly religious periods, its value even exceeded that of gold. It is no coincidence that the Bible mentions frankincense alongside gold and myrrh as one of the three gifts brought to the baby Jesus. Many traders travelling along the Silk Road, including Marco Polo, visited this region to transport the precious resin to all corners of the world. The lost city of Ubar was once the epicentre of this trade. Unfortunately, the name is rather more spectacular than what remains of the UNESCO-protected site today. Apart from a few crumbling walls, there isn’t much left to see. Most of the city has been swallowed by the desert and will probably remain buried beneath the sand forever.

When the Arabian Sea comes back into view, we turn left and follow the coast north. Around 100 kilometres beyond Salalah, I discover one of the most beautiful roads Oman has to offer. Every parameter for a perfect motorcycle ride is pointing in the right direction. The setting sun paints everything in warm colours, the temperature is ideal and the KTM is the perfect playmate for the bends ahead. Best of all, there is virtually no traffic to interrupt our newfound friendship. But it is the spectacular coastal road itself that leaves me speechless. It constantly climbs and descends, flirting with the mountain range that runs alongside the sea. As the final touch to this dream ride, we set up camp right on the beach and continue enjoying the evening.

A natural shower

Throughout Oman, you regularly come across signs reading “Wadi”. The word refers to a valley or ravine shaped by water, and these signs are an open invitation to turn off the main road in search of a green oasis where water springs from the earth. That morning, we give in to the temptation and leave the coastal road for a small 20-kilometre detour inland along an excellent track. At the end of this strada bianca, we find the promised land. In the middle of an otherwise barren landscape, vegetation crowds around the water source, fighting for every available patch of ground. Crystal-clear water trickles down the impressive rock formations, giving us the perfect opportunity to wash the sand and dust from our clothes. Unfortunately, duty calls and we cannot stay for long.

While the south had left me in a state of constant excitement, the landscape becomes less spectacular as we continue north along the coast. With little more than a straight road ahead of us, the group gradually spreads out and we ride individually towards the agreed checkpoints. Riding alone brings an unexpected experience. For the first time in four days, I get to experience the friendliness and hospitality of the local population first-hand. There is very little traffic on these roads, but not a single car passes without stopping to ask whether I need help when I pull over at the roadside. Around lunchtime, I walk into a small grocery shop to buy some water. Almost immediately, an Omani man approaches me to welcome me to his country. “Can I offer you anything from the shop?” he asks. Sceptical as ever, I politely decline and buy something myself. An hour later, I stop again for a quick stretch. Within two minutes, another car pulls over. “Is everything okay?” the driver asks. He invites me to his home for tea or coffee. I politely decline once again and get back on the bike.

That evening, I ask our local guide Youssef whether people expect something in return for all this generosity. He looks at me in surprise and explains that offering these people money would actually be considered insulting. Hospitality, it turns out, is deeply ingrained in Omani culture. It immediately moves to the top of my list of reasons to come back. Unfortunately, there is also an uninvited guest at the party. As we continue along the coast, wind gusts of up to 70 km/h begin to pick up. The already long riding days suddenly become considerably more challenging. We not only have to watch out for sand blowing across the road, but also for sudden blasts of wind trying to knock us off the bikes. We are therefore more than relieved when we finally turn inland towards our overnight stop in the magnificent Wahiba Sands.