2024: Year of Sincerity~Oman 4 'Dipping into Decadence'

I am glad Mahmoud was assigned to our tour. He is a freelance tour guide. Although he never met Sultan, they co-worked together seamlessly, understanding the crucial roles that make a trip successful, especially making the guests happy. In the end of our trip the tips were rolling in, mainly in US bills. I hand them the Saudi bills leftover from my Saudi trip. Sultan can use them when he drives Muslims who journey to Mecca, Saudi Arabia for their homage. 

Back on the bus, one of the tourist says, 

You should write a book about your travels. Many people would like to hear about it. 

I smile. Oh you think I should? 

Little did they know that I was trying to get something on paper, journaling in my composition book to remember the highlights of my travels but nothing seemed to capture the essence of my experiences. 

At the end of the tour Mahmoud asks, 

Which hotel will you be staying at?

Mysk Al Mouj

Oh that is a nice area. It is the same region in Al Mawaleh, but north. Everything is new there, the town is by the marina. You will like it. Please stay on the bus as my boss says that we will transfer you to your new hotel. I am personally driving you. It is on my way home. 

Oh that would be wonderful. 

And the boss said that someone will take you to the airport when you are ready to leave Muscat.

Oh very nice. I appreciate it. 

His boss is responding to the driver who didn't show up at the airport upon my arrival to Muscat. I felt as though the company was doing right by me, a nice gesture to compensate for my rough start. Letting me know that they care about me as a guest. There are myriads of ways that something can fall out of place in a trip such as in life but there are always opportunities for humans to make adjustments with patience and care. And each experience can be valuable to our growth.

Mahmoud instructs me. 

Please stay on the bus until everyone gets off and then we will transfer to my car.

Ok, I say.

We arrive at the same hotel that we checked into on Day One of our Oman tour. The rest of the guests will all stay another night before their flights back home tomorrow. Meanwhile I already booked a luxury hotel in Mawaleh by the Marina,  dipping my toes in decadence. A taste, to see what’s to come for 2025: The Year of Decadence, only a couple months away. The icing on the cake as this trip has already been incredible.

Planning to pamper myself I wonder how? Perhaps a soothing massage. Then I stare at the old polish peeling off of my nails and think of adding my first visit to a nail salon. I began painting my nails since my last trip because I noticed that a fresh coat disguises my scaly wrinkling hands. As the guests exit the bus they notice me still sitting in the front and look worried. They ask. 

You are not spending a night with us? 

Where are you going?

Throughout the trip the Laotians and Filipinos on this bus have been trying to coddle me by sitting next to me at meals and including me in their group photos. Telling me you don't talk like us, laotian and tegalon but you are one of us, we will adopt you and include you.

While touring, I asked some to take a photo of me when I found a lovely spot. Especially Ricardo, the Filipino man who lives in Canada. With his Sony DSLR strapped around his neck, I was sure he would take a frame worthy shot. As he’s about to exit the bus, Ricardo asks, 

Give me your number so I can send you your photos. 

During our tours some commented, 

You are so brave to travel alone!

I want to travel more but my spouse doesn't want to.

I am afraid to travel by myself.

Aren't you scared? 

Last summer when I was traveling through Moldova, my Moldovan driver who acquired an irish accent from 15 years in living in Ireland said, 

I would not travel alone, even by myself! 

I didn't understand their fears as I have been traveling alone since my thirties and probably would have done sooner if I had the money. Perhaps because I was raised in New York City where we acquire street smarts knowing how to take precautions hiding our precious metals and avoiding dark alleyways. I don't know, but traveling solo gives me freedom to explore the world in a semi…free way.  

The last passenger to get off was another Laotian lady also living in Tennessee in her late 70s. She came with her niece who was not enjoying the trip with her face squashed. The other day she said, I want to go home, fanning herself with a napkin. The older woman leans over to me and whispers, 

I enjoy traveling solo too. As our lips widened we embraced Goodbye. One kindred solo traveler to another.

Everyone is off the bus and Mahmoud returns. I gather my things ready. With my backpack dangling off my shoulder I want to hug Sultan, but refrain, recalling Mahmoud’s instruction at the beginning of this trip on social distancing with men who are not your husband. 

If you are a woman please do not hug me because it is not customary for a woman to hug a man. And Please don't stand too close to me because that would make me uncomfortable. 

Instead, I extend my hand and grab Sultan’s warm plump hand standing a couple of feet away. It's been a learning curve because I will hug anyone. 

Shukran! The trip was amazing. I say.

Afwan. he says for the last time. 

He was my little Omani brother on this trip and am a bit sad to depart.

 Mahmoud grabs my luggage and leads me to his Honda Sonata, The car is clean inside with a musty smell. Being Korean I joke, 

Nice car.

Yes, Korean cars are popular in Oman. 

An extra day in Muscat is a gift, I would like to make it special. 

Mahmoud? I have one more day in Oman. Do you have any suggestions for me? I ask.

Yes you can take a sunset boat ride from the marina. It is a nice short ride and the view will be nice.

Oh that sounds lovely. Mahmoud? Do you think that your wife would want to visit the salon and get her nails done with me tomorrow? if she is not busy?

 I will ask her and contact you through Whatsapp this evening. 

Ok.

In front of the hotel, I wave goodbye and thank him for the ride. The porter greets me and takes my luggage and leads me into the hotel. The clear glass spiral stairs lead up to the upper floor. The atrium opens up to the top floor with three gold chandeliers. Then through the wall to wall glass there is a clear view of the Marina. The thin receptionist is dressed in a neat violet suit says,

Welcome to Mysk al Mouj and hands me a key card.

My room is on the 7th floor. The closet is filled with beautiful camel colored bedroom slippers, too bad it's 3 sizes too big. An oversized matching camel colored robe is hooked on the bathroom door. As I enter and look past the king size bed something is off, it's dark and there are no windows. Where are my windows? Only white walls. For the price of this room it should come with natural light? I call the front desk, staring at the walls wondering if I could change my room with windows?

Yes mam can I help you and how can I make your stay better? 

Oh yes, Can you.. , 

Holding the phone, I look closer and notice long metal drawstrings dangling next to what appears to be thin blinds like a movie projector screen. 

Oh wait a second. I put down the phone.

Peeling the blind back there is a huge window and I hop back to the phone. 

Never mind, I found the issue. Sorry to bother you. 

Feeling silly I hang up the phone. Ashamed, I shake my head at myself then pull the metal cord and wallah! The city view is before me. I pull another cord lifting the film and Wallah! The marina is below with a full view of sailboats on the water. Wow! With the bedroom on this level, I could keep the windows open and no one would see me undressed. Now that's what I paid for! My breath was taken away with the view of the city lit up and the sky streaked with colors before me.

I put my things down and decide to walk on the boardwalk and pass luxury yachts lining the marina with the water glistening in the night sky.  A dog? I have not seen a person walk a dog since I got to the Gulf. The owner has blond hair and shorts on. Not a local I guessed. As we get closer I ask,

Do you live here?

Oh yes! We moved here 5 years ago from England. 

A good place to live?

Yes we love it. 

A little girl with twirly blond locks stops behind her. I kneel down to pet her dog, then miss our schnauzer who passed away a few years ago. My hand strokes the soft fur enough to soothe my aching heart. Then thought, shedding some of my clothing and wearing shorts would be a relief. To be respectful and mindful of the Middle Eastern conservative culture I have been traveling covered up in the heat with sweat running down my legs and armpits. Even the scented body spray and underarm deodorants couldn't withstand this sort of heat. 

The morning is all mine. No alarms buzzing curtailing my sleep. With a full rest, I check my Whatsapp and read         

Ms. April, my wife can join you tonight and ride the boat to watch the sunset. 

Yay! I squeal.

As I would love to spend time with his wife. I could only imagine how sweet she must be because Mahmoud talked so endearingly about her. 

Honestly this is wonderful. I text him back to confirm. 

After 7 flights down the stairs I am famished trying to keep fit while traveling I avoid the elevators. At the restaurant  my eyes blink twice as there is not one, or two but four cappuccino machine stations. The trays are full of vegetables, meats and an array of desserts. Through the glass doors the patio overlooks the marina. With one plate in one hand, I grab the large door handles and walk outside. Already warm but nice enough to sit out. I plant my meal down on a table with the best view of the water.

Coffee mam?

Yes, two lattes please and she doesn't flinch, it's not extra, it's included.

Feeling decadent and geering up to 2025, the year of decadence. Where I take a full year to learn how to live in decadence and appreciate the fruits of my labor instead of squirreling my nuts away. This is good practice for me adorning myself in luxury, surrounding myself in beauty. Breathing the air and taking in my surroundings. It feels magnificent. My life's work is coming to fruition. It feels good, it feels decadent.  

After a lovely breakfast, I walk to the mall with the intention of getting my nails done. A lady directs me to the salon and figures it would cost about 75 usd. At the salon a rack of nail polish, on sale, taunts me. I pick a color I want, then talk myself in and out of getting my nails done professionally. I can do my own nails, I convince myself. decadence will have to wait as I revert back to scarcity. Who knows when I will need 75$, what will I do if there is an emergency, my frugality winning over again! So robotically I take a bottle of pink and clear polish to the counter. Pay for them and they put them in a pretty purple bag. But now how do I get my old polish off? I sheepishly ask, 

Do you have nail polish remover I can use?  

Three ladies are sweet from the Philippines. The shortest on sets the table while the other sweeps around her. Feeling sorry I say,

I can take it off myself. 

It's ok mam. Please sit down.

As she wipes off my old polish with care, I am embarrassed especially since I am not getting a new polish. I thank her and quickly walk away.

Outside, my eyes close shut with guilt and shake my head. “You just couldn't go through with it? Then remembering self-care I tell myself, Well at least you are trying. You have had a couple of decadent moments on this trip. Baby steps I say, baby steps.’