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Letters from the Oman Trail – The Batinah plain

Letters from the Oman Trail – The Batinah plain

Nothing around, absolutely nothing. No roads, no shops, no neighbors, no farming activities, no nothing.”

arid solitude

It’s early morning, the Border is now behind me and I’m flying on the Oman Batinah plain. It is so hot, the sky is a white haze pressing heavily on the ground. To find any sort of life around is a miracle. Small Acacia trees, a few goats, a family of donkeys and a camel are what I expected, but what always surprise me, are those isolated houses in the middle of this absolute emptiness. Nothing around, absolutely nothing. No roads, no shops, no neighbors, no farming activities, no nothing. What do they do? What do they survive on ? Water is brought by trucks and stored in plastic tanks standing outside under the sun. Some have electricity, but not all. There is often a pickup truck which has seen better days parked in front. You could think they have been here all along, leaving a life they always have. But all those houses have been built recently, and have the same odd pastel colors you see again and again in Oman. They are new, but already crumbling. Another typical aspect of local low-cost construction.

I need to slow down. Either I’m gonna hit something and brake the car, or miss a turn and get lost again. I’m here to see, not speed. The mountains are now near by again.

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