by Stieve Adams
it is difficult to eat without blowing in the food. It can not help it to crush between the teeth, one gets out when we are in adventures in deserts and mountains.
Radja, our innovative tour guide, takes out a screwdriver and replaces our Dubai signs for Oman signs. I wonder if it's better to get stuck in a fake jeep than get stuck in an emirat jeep. Probably no difference, rather passeless than unresolved.
At dawn we are aroused that a number of goats do their best to link our supplies of fresh produce. After the goats, an uncle comes with a messy stick and starts treating the goats and on us. Radja trains back and the mouths in an unpleasant way.
"Take it easy, Radja," I say, "we do not want to pay any attention to us."
"He is threatening with the wrath of God and the police force. We will not be here at his best green work, "he says."
Here there was almost no greenery at all, but if you are herded in Oman, you may not be so well-considered.
"You can give him some money," I suggest.
"We only have dirham, it is not good here in Oman. Here is the omani rial that applies. "
"What do you think of English pounds?" I ask.
"Good! Do you have such? "
Surely I have it. The hostess gets in a great mood as soon as he understands what it was for money he received. He even explained how to advance to civilization, the Omani civilization says.
Aside from a pair of buckles on the screens we will shine on a small road. From there it was easy to get down to the main road to the coast. I had expected Oman to be old and rude. The coastal road was almost highway, new, straight and asphalted. On both sides there were planted trees, an allé of 30 miles to Muscat. And to keep them alive, tankers drove with water and released a splash of every tree. Just like a dog that marks the reef.
In the middle of the road we see a smaller castle. It turns out to be a roundabout. Each roundabout was adorned with large buildings, flowers and mosaic artworks. It would be something for road builders in Europe to take care of, I think. On our way to Muscat, we stay at a large hotel on ten floors. We refresh ourselves in the coffee shop in the hotel and enjoy the harp play. In the golden reception with a crystal chandelier that looks like weighing a well-dressed gentleman, playing harp in the middle of the morning.
Radja explains that this hotel was previously one of the summer camps of the Sultan. Nowadays only the top floors were reserved for the Sultan, the rest of the building was used as a conference hotel.
When he built the summer resort there was a small fishing village here. The Sultan moved the village and the fisherman a few miles away because he liked the place. Indeed, the inhabitants of the old village were also happy, they received new and modern housing from the Sultan. Radja had been a tourist guide earlier, so he maintained his traditions and continued to guide.
In Muscat's port it became difficult to get information about when Björn and Jens could come. We had no contacts at all but we got a nice wait. Meanwhile we could admire the sultan's palace at a distance and also the sultan's two boats. They looked like a bigger and smaller cruiser and were both ready for sealing at short notice, it would be possible for the sultan to go out and go for a boat.
It went out on time and it started to be evening. We could not enter a hotel without a passport and visa and we should also have the port under surveillance. We therefore drove the jeep out of town where we had a view of the entrance to the harbor. We folded the back seat so we could lay the sleeping bags there and sleep, two at a time.
Radja had flirted with Valerie and offered to take her first guard with her. We take lighthouse guards, he suggested. Having said that, Maria and I took a seat on each sleeping bag and fell asleep without any problems. Crawling into the sleeping bag was not to be considered in this heat. Even though there was no idle ban, we could not let the engine go all night. And without air conditioning it became hot here.
We thought, of course, that we would be lonely up here all night. But hello what we deceived us. When the evening was later we got company with more cars that also seemed to admire the view. It turned out that it was here as some girls and boys took a trip and were looking for small-haired males.
Both Maria and I woke up because there were cars driving. Not only that, there was also a police car hit up. We were terrified about what the police might want, so we took the place where we came and started to hug and kiss when the police came closer. I enjoyed the game when I got in close combat with Maria. Radja was not worse but attacked Valerie, not without success. But the police knocked on anyway. Now the cooked pork is fried, I think pessimistically.
But Radja is able to speak, he is getting his Omani driver's license and generally looking forward to confidence. If he wants the registration papers on the car, it's driving, I think tired.
But everything is fine, Radja has talked out of the situation and the police go on.
At dawn a black and red tugboat comes slowly towards the harbor. Without doubt, Sitting Bull is the well-known tugboat from Singapore. We go down to the harbor and Valerie is beautiful. When Sitting Bull adds to the quayside, it is met by an individual dressed in the typical Oman headwear.
Valerie walks quickly to the tugboat and goes aboard. We stay out of sight but see how she threw herself on her throat, the persuasion has begun. Björn seems to be very minded. He tries to discuss with the Omani while keeping Valerie at arm's length. Jens is in the background and looks nervous.
Bear throws away and slides from the dock, Valerie is still on board. We get a little nervous, Valerie may have gone over to his old friend Björn and left us at the stake. But it turns out to be unjustified concern. Bear makes what has become a habit, he throws Valerie overboard and increases the speed from the port.
I recognize the situation, it was not long ago that I was thrown over board from the same boat. I flatter Valerie when we pick her up from the wet but hot water.
"Do not you welcome on board?" I wonder.
Valerie outbreaks in a number of West Indies swords who do not seem well-behaved.
"Operation persuasion ceases," she proclaims buttert.
We put Valerie in the sun so she can dry, it does not take long before she's pretty dry so we can let her get into the jeep.
"Absolutely unsuccessful trip, apparently," agrees Maria.
"And we'll try to get us out of Oman?" Radja asks.
Undoubtedly it is. Again the same way we came. Everything goes well until we approach the border. Radja is careful and inspects the border crossing through binoculars before we reach the border. And luck is well. In Wadin we came through, there is now a Oman army army. And not enough, we are discovered! Radja has not been careful, the Omanians are looking at us in his binoculars.
Radja runs back to our jeep and tells us to run out of just that.
"Sure," I agree, "but where?"
Radja knows the terrain and has an alternative route. I wonder what he has been doing beside the tourist guide. Smuggling, maybe. For example, smuggling whiskey into Oman could be a profitable but risky business.
The Omani jeep has raised the persecution and approaches even though I drive as a rally driver. Radja sits nervously alongside and gives directions on how to drive. He would rather take over the wheel but we do not have time to change. The short dusk approaches, maybe our rescue. Or our ruin. In dusk and darkness it becomes increasingly difficult to drive without ramging one of the countless rock blocks in the terrain.
We follow the mountain range along the border with the aim of another wadi that can take us out of the sultanate. Radja directs us into a ravine that he believes will lead us out of the country. But the army is still approaching. In light terrain, we can pull away by superior power, but as soon as it becomes more difficult, we lose ground. I dare not drive how tough, I'm trying not to quarrel our Pajero.
Omanians start shooting at us. Warning shot on both sides of our car. Now it's only the dark that can save us. This ravine is narrow and crooked, sometimes our follower disappears behind a ben
d. After another quarter, it's almost dark and I see the chance to fool the pursuers. I swing in behind a large rock block and stop the engine.
"Thank you for not having a white jeep," I breathe. Most vehicles in the desert, and even the human inhabitants, are predominantly clad in white.
The omanjeepen comes with a creepy motor around the curve - and continues past the next curve. We see the brake lights disappear, we have managed the first step to deceive the pursuers. We open the doors and listen when the other jeep disappears in the distance.
"Now I'm driving," says Radja.
Gladly, I have a cramp in the brake foot. Despite the help of servo steering and servo rigs, it is stressful to control such a vehicle in rugged terrain.
"Remember not to brake," I say, thinking that the brake lights look long in the dark. We have to sneak out completely without light and hope that the sound does not betray us. There is no danger as long as our pursuers are in their jeep. Then they will not hear anything, but if they return the same way, the light can betray us.
Then we get puncture! The reserve is on the back door so there is a disaster. We raise the jeep and start changing wheels when we hear a foreign jeep. With a light headlamp and a searchlight, the army jacket returns the same way. Hope they think we got away. We are completely behind our jeep and hope for the best.
They do not see us, but they stay behind the next hill. We screw the
