From Mabtun to Sawb

Khalid Qeetun – of Funiq, Tawi Attair – came up with the plan to walk along the top of the Jebel Samhan range (from near the TV aerial above Mirbat) to Jebel Kharis and then descend an ancient camel track down the cliff to Sawb on the plains.

Khalid picked me up from Salalah and took me to his home in Tawi Attair. From there, one of his friends took Khalid and I together with Mohammad and Ayoub in his Landcruiser all the way up to Jebel Samhan. Eventually we were let off near the now-abandoned marble mine at Mabtun.

With Khalid's uncle at Mabtun

As we were taking our stuff from the Landcruiser, one of Khalid’s uncles came along. This was rather surprising since we were at least 15 kilometres from the nearest village and 5 km from the nearest house. We posed with him while the driver took a photo of the historic occasion. In the excitement of meeting up with this relative in the middle of nowhere, the driver, sensing his services were no longer required, got into his wagon and  took off. With a sinking feeling in my stomach I realised I’d left my tramping boots in the vehicle. By this time he was too far away to signal for him to stop, and we had no way to communicate – no mobile phones in those days! I would have to trek all the way wearing the lightweight sandals I had on!

We gathered up our packs, maps, water-bottles, walking sticks, and a rifle – supposed protection against wild animals, the likeliest being the endangered Arabian leopard, into whose habitat we were trespassing. It was a big comfort to know that in the event that our lives were endangered, we could prolong our days by killing one of perhaps fifty leopards left in the wild!

So, who was in our group? First, the originator of the idea, Khalid Qeetun, a geography teacher from Tawi Attair. I had known Khalid for two years by this time. On previous occasions he had introduced me and other English teachers at the College of Education (now the College of Applied Sciences) to places he thought might be interesting to us. So it was for our mutual benefit that we went out on shorter trips: us to explore and get to know places around, while he got plenty of opportunities to improve his English. It was a happy arrangement. Khalid was a typical jebali young man. He was of slight built but very fit. He knew of the area we were venturing into although only through various uncles who really did know.

Next was Mohammed from Mirbat. Mohammed was also a keen geography teacher and a friend of Khalid’s. He was the one carrying the 303. Lastly there was Ayoub, also from Mirbat. He was a recent recruit on the oil-fields, and had taken leave for 10 days.  He had been roped in at the last minute, and as we were to discover, both him and I were equally unfit!

Which brings me to the important subject of preparation! What training had we done before we set out on this 2 day 20 hour trek?
After a couple of hours of tramping it became clear that I hadn’t adequately prepared for this serious expedition. Already I was slowing down. It was difficult to keep up the pace that Khalid and Mohammed had set. In part this was due to my footwear. One side of a sandal had pulled out of the sole so when I walked I had to grip the inside of the sandal with my toes to prevent my foot slipping out of the sandal. I tried wearing socks for a time but found that they created problems of their own with my feet sliding up and down inside the sandals. More importantly, I was carrying too much weight in my packs!  Lastly I knew that a couple of kilometres leisurely walking 2 or 3 times a week hadn’t prepared me for this difficult mountain traverse.

Taking a break

We stopped for lunch after covering 8 km of up one rocky hill and down the next. After starting at an elevation of about 1200 metres, we were now at 1500 metres. We found some small almost leafless trees to sit under, as, although it was late winter, the temperature in the day time was still about 25 C. It was very tempting to stay longer than we needed under the meagre shade, but we knew we needed to keep moving if we were to reach our target by nightfall – Jebel / Wadi Kharis. While here Khalid noticed that his backpack was damp. On investigation he discovered that the 4 litre plastic jerry can of water in his pack had split and most of its contents leaked out: our main supply of water had gone! The rest of us had perhaps 5 or 6 litres all told, which had to last the four of us 4 hours of walking that day, plus most of the following day. It was far too little to get us to our destination easily. There were no inhabitants around. No more passing uncles. Not even a lone she-camel we could milk. We had passed all springs – they were at much lower altitudes – and no more fresh sources would be accessible until we had descended the mountains to the plains.

Consulting the map - Jebel Samhan

We stopped for a break on the edge of the cliff to consult the map. There was a sheer drop of at least 200 metres directly below us. However, from the birds-eye view this vantage point afforded, we could trace our path along the cliff-top, down the valleys and on to the plains far below.

Ayub warming himself

About 5 p.m. we decided to stop and get ready for the night ahead. It would get dark quickly and we had limited light power. I was keen to have somewhere against a rock wall to protect us from the cold wind. However, the others were more concerned about snakes coming out of the rocks or, worse still, leopards preying on us. We found a spot out in the open. It was hard-packed bare ground with a few stones and plants. After clearing the area, we spread out our bedding a few metres from where we would build the fire. We collected a large pile of dead trees and broken branches which would, hopefully, serve us with enough heat and light to last the night. We set to and cooked a simple meal of canned tuna and rice served with tea.

Next morning we were all up at first light. I had spent an uncomfortable night on the hard ground. It had been cool, too, especially in the hours before dawn. After a quick meal we broke camp and packed our things. As we were packing up, I noticed one of the others had a couple of cans of tuna. So I asked around. Each of us had brought several tins of tuna! All that extra weight lugged around unnecessarily!

The Big Cut - Wadi Kharis

We assessed our water situation. It was critical. We had only about 3 or 4 litres remaining, and it was going to be 10 hours before we reached our goal. So, at 7.30 a.m. we set off not knowing how we were going to cope. And me in particular! We had to walk for about an hour before we came to the ‘Big Cut’, a huge wadi that bisected the mountain transversely. In ancient days this wadi served as one of the main thoroughfares between the frankincense-growing areas to the north and the coast – about 25 kilometres away. Wadi Andhur, one of the major frankincense collection centres from the 3rd century BC until 4th century AD, lay almost 40 kilometres due north. We were going to be following one of the most difficult and dangerous parts of the journey. It was comforting to know that we weren’t the first to go this way. Thousands of camels, traders and soldiers had come this way in ancient times. However, we didn’t have the benefit of a guide who had been that way before. We hoped to descend from an altitude of about 1600 metres  to about 200 metres during the course of the day.

It didn’t take long to find the track down the cliff face. At first it was easy going with a magnificent view towards Mirbat and Hinu. We continued following the track. It was littered with hundreds of huge chunks of limestone that had broken away from the escarpment over the centuries. Looking back and up the cliff we noticed that there were a number of new pieces of stone poised to follow the others down the hill. We hoped it wouldn’t be today that they decided to move on down.

I started out the day feeling energetic and refreshed after the night’s rest. As the day wore on, however, and our water supply ran out, I got more and more tired, becoming so lethargic in the end that I stopped walking and sat down under a tree on a small rocky promontory, and couldn’t go any further. Khalid was very concerned with this turn of events. I explained how thirsty I was. After some discussion among them, Khalid and Mohammad went off to try and find something to drink – for me!

The track down Jebel Samhan

They were concerned for me. They didn’t want their teacher to die in their hands so they marched off looking for that elusive liquid to slake my thirst. They had already talked about the goats they’d seen grazing in the distance. In my comatose state I didn’t think in terms of goats. But they did. Some half an hour later they returned carrying an aluminium bowl of fresh goat’s milk. I was surprised and humbled.  They related how they had wandered around the cliff-side for some time calling out for the shepherd, eventually finding him. He was happy to oblige, fetched his aluminium bowl, and proceeded to catch one of his goats and milk it into the bowl.

In no time this bowl of expensive liquid had rejuvenated me! I drank the warm milk and waited. I got back on my feet and started moving. The others were encouraging me by saying it was all downhill from now on. Additionally, the jebali shepherd gave further directions on how to reach his hut a couple of hours walk away. We could even see it in the distance through binoculars. We set out again. This time my pack was reduced to a couple of kilos. The others distributed the weight between them, Khalid carrying most of mine as well as his own.

It was still a long way to go. Once Khalid and Mohammad were confident that we knew the way, they went on ahead and Ayub and I brought up the rear. It was a struggle but Ayub and I finally arrived at the shepherd’s hut at 5.30 pm. But we made it! I collapsed onto the mat outside the hut next to Khalid. Various refreshing drinks were offered me. I drank any and all – a couple of cartons of juice, 4 or 5 glasses of water, several small glasses of sweet, red tea… Phew, it was so great to be able to drink again! But it was embarrassing just how much I did drink!

We were still a long way from civilisation. However, after some time one of relatives of the family came in his 4WD and took us to Sadh where we stayed the night. The next day we explored Fushi, Hadbeen and Kaisa . It was a very leisurely day. We didn’t exert ourselves too much. That evening we all returned to our respective homes – Mohammad and Ayub to Mirbat, Khalid to Tawi Attair and I to Salalah. Our expedition had ended!
Lessons I learnt about Dhofaris that day
They went the extra mile even when they didn’t have to – carrying my pack. I wasn’t a Roman soldier but they did it willingly; self-sacrifice – nothing was too difficult for them to do for others when required; and hospitality – the jebali shepherd and his family offered what they had to us even though they knew none of us personally.

Baobabs in Dhofar

One of my favourite places in Dhofar to retreat to is Wadi Hinna. Half way up the mountainside you come to a spring – Ain Hashair.

© Ross Hayden. Camel standing beneath huge baobab tree.

The waters of this spring – and the annual khareef – have kept a stand of 30 or 40 baobab trees (Adansonia digitata) alive for perhaps 1000 years. This particular species of tree originates in Africa, but it is found in Dhofar in only two particular locations – here in Wadi Hinna (40 km east of Salalah) and near Dhalkut (150 km west of Salalah) not far from the Yemen border.

© Ross Hayden. Huge baobab tree during khareef

I found it difficult to take a photograph which shows its massive size, until one day an obliging camel posed under its spreading limbs. Among the scattered stand of baobab trees in this valley there is one specimen that is particularly memorable. It is possibly the largest baobab in the region with a girth of 20 metres! I love to sit at its feet, or carefully clamber up its slippery armour-clad trunk to perch in a fork of its gigantic branches.

Pillar of Rock (Dhofar, Oman)

© Ross Hayden. Rock Pillar, Hayur

In days gone by, young Dhofari men used to show their physical prowess by clambering up to the top of this pillar of rock (6 or 8 metres high).

Images are Rights Managed and available for licensing through GulfImages.

© Ross Hayden. Pillar of Rock 2

Kaffirs Rock (Ras Nus)

© Ross Hayden. Kaffirs Rock, Hadbeen, Dhofar, Oman

Local Dhofaris tell the story of shipwrecked European sailors who, many years ago, took refuge atop this large rock shaped like a stack of pancakes. Because their clothes were in tatters after their swim ashore, a local man thought from their white appearance that they were jinn and ran away! Even today it is a very well-known traveller’s landmark. [Note: kaffir = unbeliever = European; jinn = spirits]

Image is Rights Managed and available for licensing through GulfImages.